Craig opened a trapdoor in the floor of his garage, revealing a staircase which descended into the ground below. Paul followed him, no longer able to think of doing anything beyond following the stink of the older man’s sweat down into the depths. The stairs gave way to a ramp, the tunnel linked up with other tunnels, and soon they emerged into a broad, high ceiling cavern. In the center of the room was a dias poised a story and a half off the ground–it looked ancient, and far too well crafted to have been made by anything crude–rather, it seemed to have erupted from the ground as a fluid mass, before something froze it in place. Paul reacted instinctively, tugging back when he saw it, but Craig yanked the lead, and he followed him up a winding stair to the surface above.
The men of the neighborhood were already there, milling about, finding their places around the circle. Paul saw Jason there, limping, but he wouldn’t look at him. Unlike the other men, who all bore plain robes, he was naked aside from a solid ring of steel around his cock and balls. Paul wanted to cry for help, but his jaw was slack. He didn’t think he could even muster a single word. The surface of the dais was perfectly even, yet bore an intricate pattern of metal inlay, winding around the black rock, glinting in the torchlight. However, as soon as Craig stepped into the circle, the metal began to glow a dull red, the other men hurrying to the edge of the circle, where they knelt in a ring around them both.
He waited for them to settle, and for the cavern to return to silence, before booming out, “Welcome, my Men.”
“Glory to the Master of Men,” they replied, in unison.
“Today, my men, is a very special day! A day all of you know well, a day when we welcome a man into our midst, the day we elevate another to our height, a day when we add another to our service. Jason, come here, come, stand tall and be joyful! Today is your day, a day you have been working toward for such a long time.”
Jason stood, he limped into the circle, head bowed away from his brother, and stood on the other side of Craig.
“You have completed your duties, as an initiate, and you have provided a worthy sacrifice. Today, you will claim what you seek, the true manhood you desire. We shall witness your re-manning, and we shall welcome you into our midst.”
Craig waved his hand over the floor, and the metal shimmered, slithering up as though it were alive, before grasping Paul’s neck, ankles and wrists, tugging him down to his knees, and then all fours, holding him in place on the floor. He tried to fight against the enchantment addling his brain, but he couldn’t, just drool on the stone, as Craig turned to his brother.
“Your brother has failed to use his gifts. You shall make better use of them than he has. But the Beast in him will not give up easily–a true man must be firm of hand and strong of spirit. If you want to join us, you must take from him what he has abused.”
Craig stepped to the edge of the circle, leaving the two brother’s alone in the center of the platform. Jason stood still for a moment, and then walked around behind Paul, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, but I…I can’t…”
“Ja….son…” Paul managed to force from his slack mouth, but it dissolved into a moan, as his brother’s thick fingers slid into his sweaty hole, loosening him, and then he felt Jason’s cock push into him. It was hot, it was so hot, and he wanted to crawl away, but the metal held him tightly in place, as Jason fucked him. Craig began a chant; the men around them were soon following him, and floor began to glow a brighter red. Jason was panting, but he was close. The chant grew louder, and he groaned loudly, cumming into his brother’s hole, and Paul felt a searing force push it’s way into him from his brother, twisting him, destroying him. He fought it, he but it was so strong–it ripped his defenses to shreds. His body was gurgling, and his muscles began to fade as fat filled up the place they left behind, his barrel chest dissolving into a heavy gut and two pendulous moobs, and his knee. His right knee, it hurt–a desperate, searing pain. Is this what Jason had felt? Is this what he’d suffered with for so long?
The force ebbed, the tatters of himself settling within him, and Jason withdrew, standing up. Craig approached, “Welcome! Welcome, my newest Man!” he said. Paul couldn’t turn his head with the metal clamped around his neck, but Craig led him around his fat body, and he could see his brother–he was huge. At least seven feet tall, and packed solid with muscle, far more muscle than he could have simply stolen from Paul. He was sobbing. He was sobbing, and he fell to his knees before Craig, “Master…Master, thank you. It doesn’t hurt. The pain–”
“I know,” Craig said, caressing his bearded face, “I know, and you are a Man now. Your sacrifice was great–you should be proud.”
“I promise…I promise to serve you, to obey, anything, anything for you Master, anything, I swear, for what you’ve given me…” Jason tried to continue, but he dissolved into wrenching tears, and Paul could only watch. Craig stepped away, the men of the neighborhood came forward and helped Jason stand, bringing him back out of the circle. But what about him? What about his sacrifice? Paul was broken too–why should he be forced to carry Jason’s burdens as well as his own? How was that fair?
Craig walked back to him, and kneeled in front of Paul. His face was kind, and that only made Paul angrier. “You provided your brother with a great thing, you know. You should be proud.”
Anger. Anger greater than anything he’d ever felt in his life, greater than anything he’d felt in war welled in him, pushing Craig’s musk from him. He screamed and cursed at him, his body tensing, but the metal refused to give an inch. In that moment, he felt like all of the layers of himself were being stripped away, and he was simply an animal. Craig didn’t flinch, he waited until he stopped, heaving for breath, before standing up and turning to the men behind him. “All men are broken. All men are flawed, are deficient. They are prone to vice and sin. This man, is more than broken however. He was welcomed the Beast into his heart. It is not his fault–he has been trained to shurg off empathy and fellowship, to replace them with hatred and rage. This, my Men, is no man at all, but a beast in the guise of a man. But I am the Master, and I can free him of his self-imposed illusion. Bear witness to my miracles.”
“We are the men who witness,” the men reply.
Bracken's Corner 