BLINCOE’S CASEBOOK:- 1) THE CROSS MURDERS 8

By Pueros

Chapter 8 - Ceremonial

(August 1999, somewhere in England)

Cycnus and Hyacinthus departed with the cassette player, dildo and food tray, with its empty dishes and soiled thong, after subjecting Per to his three discomforting and degrading enemas. The young Dane was now required to wash and groom himself again before redressing in fresh clean garments from the clothes rail, the same type that he had worn for his investiture. Per was particularly concerned about his thong for it was the version that had two bumcords running along the edges of his buttocks and he had discovered what this permitted the previous night. Once the boy had finished, he performed the now usual homage at the usual spot and adopted the usual stance to await his central role in, for him, a very unusual and nasty ceremonial event.

The High Priest, and the same two Priestly escorts who had guided Per to his investiture as the new tribute to Diabolus, eventually came to collect the deeply apprehensive boy and lead him to the temple, but only after he had consumed another goblet of stimulant. The temple set-up was slightly different from that experienced by the lad during his last visit. The number of worshippers was less as, to their regret, not all cult members were able to attend every evening rite. The front pews, either side of the aisle, were also now exclusively occupied by boys, although some youngsters shared other rows with the older spectators. However, Per noticed that the location of the cameraman had not changed.

Per was led onto the altar platform, where he was turned to face the assemblage before kneeling to kiss the sacred symbol embossed on the wooden floor. His tunic was removed and, whilst the High Priest moved to his lectern on the left and the two escorting Priests resumed a position by the cupboard on the right, the organ music changed to the opening tones of ‘Show Me Hell’. The lyrics were now sung by the boys at the front of the congregation, apparently a choir. The young Dane started his erotic dance, outwardly attired in just his tight short shorts, revealing a nice bulge at the front. His first public show actually went quite successfully for he was encouraged to perform well by fear of the pain collar. The boy was also beginning to display a natural affinity for dance. All of the more mature cocks amongst the watchers, and many of the younger ones, rose in appreciation.

After Per had finished, the scene again became more sinister. The Priests returned to the platform and the boy was first manacled by one of them, as on the previous evening, between the front two crosses with his unchained feet on tip-toe. His shorts were removed, revealing the lad in just his skimpy briefs. The other Priest, having collected the items from the cupboard, attached the familiar ball gag to Per’s mouth and severe nipple clamps, linked by a light chain, to the boy’s tits, carefully avoiding the new piercings. The pain that immediately seared through the lad’s body was acute, causing him to bend his legs at the knees, so lifting them from the floor of the platform. Tears started to stream down the young beautiful face. However, such reactions were ignored as the Priests departed to leave the platform to the distressed tribute and the High Priest, who began his customary monologue.

Per’s suffering meant that he paid little attention to what was said until the pain in his chest eventually began to lessen and he returned his toes to the floor. He then began to hear such phrases as “Welcome our new acolyte initiate” and “Communion for the liturgy and seniors” amongst much mention of the great satanic lord, Diabolus, and other seemingly indecipherable nonsense. After the conclusion of the devilish sermon and the restarting of organ music, the Priests returned to remove the clamps and gag. Per experienced intense pain again as blood poured back into his tortured nipples but fortunately this soon passed, leaving a dull ache. The young Dane was released from his bondage to perform the usual homage, after which it was indicated that he should remain kneeling. He, shamefully, and all the spectators, happily, recognised the indications of intense arousal confined by his sparse coverings as he now waited to service cock.

The Priests collected a pretty boy, aged 11 and dressed like the others except for the fact that his short tunic possessed no pentagram motif. The acolyte initiate was escorted before the kneeling Per and the black garment was removed. The 14 years old saw that the 11 years old was wearing tiny black briefs, plain apart from a zip at the front. The Priests stood either side of the initiate, with their backs turned away from the congregation. One held a gold pentagram medallion whilst the other possessed a black tunic with insignia, the former worn by all confirmed acolytes under the latter. The worshippers started chanting. The 11 years old now carefully unzipped his briefs and a little erection popped into view. Per was rather attracted to what he had to do and soon had his lips encasing the small smooth penis, whilst his own became harder, and it did not take long to induce the younger boy’s dry orgasm.

The 11 years old rezipped and was adorned with the medallion and tunic before being restored to his pew by the Priests, who returned to the platform for their own oral communion with the tribute. They stood before Per, one behind the other, and unbuttoned the lower halves of their robes to expose their own hard cocks, much bigger and less palatable than that of the new acolyte. The young Dane blanched when he saw the obnoxious sight of the first large, hairy and sweaty object that he was required to pleasure with his mouth but, remembering the pain collar, overcame his distaste and slowly lowered his lips towards it. However, Per was too slow for the eager Priest who, gripping the boy’s ears, forced his engorged cock down the lad’s throat. The man did not wait for Per to try to lick or suck but instead brutally raped the boy’s beautiful face before eventually filling the oral orifice with sperm. The young Dane, the back of his throat now very sore, could not prevent himself from spewing most of the white liquid onto the floor when the cruel penis had been withdrawn. The Priest smacked Per across the face for not consuming his communion offering and ordered that this be rectified forthwith. The 14 years old obeyed by licking up the horrible substance in its entirety.

The Priest rebuttoned and left the platform to allow his companion the pleasure of Per’s mouth. This second Priest permitted the young Dane’s ravished orifice to take the lead and the resultant careful licking and sucking probably gave him more pleasure than his predecessor had achieved through using more proactively savage methods. Certainly, his climax was, for the man, delightful and this time no communion offering was spilt. The cameraman left his camera on auto so that he could also indulge, whilst the congregation restarted the chanting to replace the organ music whilst the organist, the fourth and last Priest on duty, stepped forward to enjoy himself. With the lesser cult liturgy satisfied, four senior celebrants then advanced from their pews, one by one, to commune with the new tribute.

This particular form of ceremonial ritual now over for the evening, Per re-performed homage before his briefs were removed and his manacles were reapplied, this time to his ankles as well as his wrists so that he was spreadeagled off the floor, facing the worshippers. The shamed boy’s thong again displayed clear evidence of barely concealed guilty excitement, and this intensified when the High Priest applied liberal dollops of grease, obtained from a jar offered by the smiling Cycnus, to 14 years old anus. Per thought that the man would now fuck him and he was right, the young Dane suffering almost as much initial pain as he had done when he had lost his virginity on the previous evening. However, this time, he only soiled his thong with embarrassing precum as his prostrate was eventually tickled and his erection became full. The High Priest concluded his own anal communion with the customary ecstatic declaration of “For our great Satanic lord, Diabolus!”

The Priest, whose semen Per had at first been unable to retain, brought a gift for the boy from the cupboard onto the platform and gave it to the High Priest. It was a short, single-stranded narrow whip, made from toughened leather. The High Priest declared that the tribute had to learn to perform the sacred rituals without mishap before landing four heavy strokes across the boy’s bum and a similar number across the lad’s back, creating eight parallel vivid red stripes down the young posterior. Per screamed and begged for mercy but the only reaction he gained in response was giggling from the younger elements amongst the congregation. This became outright laughter when, with the delivery of the fourth stroke, a large stain appeared at the front of the sobbing boy’s thong for the second successive day.

(5 days later, Thimblewick, Cotswolds, England)

DCS Blincoe and DCI Burrows were now attending their own ceremonial event for they sat in a rear pew as the Sunday morning service proceeded at Thimblewick Parish Church. They had been in the Cotswolds for the previous four days, trying to ascertain whether there was any connection between the crimes and the fact that grandparents of two of the abducted boys lived close to each other. Per’s maternal grandparents lived in Thimblewick itself and Michael’s paternal grandparents in nearby Chissleton. Unfortunately, investigations had discovered no links. The two sets of grandparents had recognised each other by face but had never spoken to each other and did not know each other’s names, let alone the fact that they shared similar grief. As far as anyone knew, the boys had never met. They had visited their grandparents in the Cotswolds but at different times.

Chissleton was much smaller than Thimblewick, the former being no more than a group of cottages. The latter had shops, two pubs, a church and a twice-weekly market. Neither had a scout group. Both sets of grandparents shopped and worshipped in Thimblewick, the latter fact tempting the police officers to the Sunday service in one last desperate attempt to find a connection to the crime. For a country church, the service was very well-attended. The DCS and DCI had been told that this was because the local Vicar was very popular, with some worshippers coming miles in preference to staying in their own parishes. After the service was over, many of the congregation reconvened in the nearby church hall for tea, biscuits and gossip. Blincoe and Burrows joined them.

“What brings you both to our humble village?” the New Scotland Yard detectives were asked by the silver-haired Reverend Quigly, sipping his tea. “Some investigations,” the DCS replied, “concerning the gruesome murder of three boys and the disappearance of another who, we fear, might be the fourth victim if we don’t find him soon.” “Oh,” declared the Vicar, “you mean those terrible cross murders that have been the main subject of media interest for over three months. I now recognise you from your T.V. appearances. Dreadful case, especially when you consider that the grandparents of two of the victims are parishioners of mine!”

“You know about that then,” responded Blincoe, “I didn’t think that it was common knowledge.” “Yes,” replied Quigly, “both sets of grandparents contacted me independently about their sad losses. It is part of my function to try to console people at such times to help them overcome their grief. I try to advise that the good Lord works in mysterious ways and that there will be a divine reason for it all.”

“Did you ever meet the boys?” asked Burrows. “I met Michael a few times,” the Vicar answered, “when he came to stay with his grandparents a few times and they attended church. However, I never saw the other boy, whose name escapes me. Never have been good at recalling names!” “Per,” Blincoe informed helpfully. “Ah, yes, the young Dane,” Quigly recalled, “he never accompanied his grandparents to church so that we never met as far as I can tell.” The churchman was then diverted from his conversation with the policemen by a tug on the arm from a little white-haired old lady. “Ah, Mrs. Smith,” the Vicar said pleasantly, “you’re looking well. What can I do for you?” The woman held up a photo envelope and announced “Holiday snaps of the grandchildren!” “Ah, delightful,” declared Quigly kindly, “you’ve brought them then. Let’s find a quiet corner so that you can show me the pictures and tell me all about your vacation.” The Reverend then wished the detectives luck with their investigations, excused himself by saying “Duty calls” and strolled off, his free arm draped around the diminutive woman.

Burrows’ mobile phone rang and, after hearing the message, he said to his boss “Interpol, Sir, they have a report of another handsome 14 years old blonde-haired blue-eyed boy disappearing in Bergen, Norway. The Norwegian flag displays a cross.” “Let’s get back to London then,” said Blincoe, “as, on the surface, there doesn’t seem to be anything here for us, although I’m still convinced that there’s a link to be found.” He added “Strange, I didn’t expect another disappearance so soon. It’s out of sequence with the others.”

After his experience on Monday, Per was subjected to exactly the same ceremonial format over the subsequent five evenings so that, by the time the Saturday service concluded, he had orally communed with all the cult members in descending order of seniority, averaging eight acts of fellatio on each occasion. He had found that the last two nights, Friday and Saturday, were the least unpleasant as he had pleasured the boy acolytes. However, Per was soon to discover that Sunday ceremonials were by far the worst of the week.

(To be continued in Chapter 9 – ‘Sundays’)