Because Blogger's "Adult warning" often goes into a perpetual loop (isn't working properly), I will be making all new posts at my WordPress blog. You can follow it even if you do not have a WordPress Account. There're also my Twitter and my Tumblr blog, my Facebook and my Google+ page and my group.
(Update: Blogger hasn't fixed its problem with the "adult warning". Will go back to posting at my WordPress blog)

Sunday, January 1, 2012

Majorca Flats -- 275



The Watcher stared through the binoculars at this group. The escape of his latest victim had left him unsatisfied and angry. This was the first time one of his chosen had ever escaped. And now The Lord was angry with him because he had failed. That morning when he had prayed, he had felt His eyes on him, cold with anger. Failure, he'd heard whispered behind him as he knelt in front of His candles and His image. Useless vessel. Worthless.
So why was he looking at the twink and the old lady and her new friends? The twink wasn't even gay. The Lord didn't want him to waste time on straights, even if they had sex before marriage and were filthy fornicators. No. The Lord wanted him to rid the world of the evil of homosexuality. Staring at straight young men would not help that cause. He must not take the first easy steps down the path to sin and perdition.
But his tension remained unassuaged. God let him have sex with his victims as a reward for ridding the world of homosexual evil. He knew that. God had told him. And when he killed he would always cum, more copiously and more profoundly than he ever otherwise did. This was God's reward for his arduous task. This time, though, he'd been baulked of his reward.
He watched Jason and Keith, and imagined them under him as he thrust into them. Careful! he warned himself. You are forced to consort with filth but you must take care you do it with a long stick, or you will be defiled yourself. He remembered Father McAlister's beatings, his lectures and rebukes while he'd been made to stand for hours in his underwear on the icy flagstones of the manse. He had Father McAlister to thank that he'd turned away from sin. He wondered for a second or two whether the voice in his head was Jesus's or Father McAlister's. The Irish burr in it …. but he rejected that suggestion. Satan was ever ready to turn him from The Lord's path, to seduce him down into the furnace.
He would start again tonight, selecting a new victim. God's work was never done.






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Episodes 1 to 220 (without pictures, 10 episodes per chapter)

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