Non-Hodgkin's lymphoma, and the worst kind of it there is. At least you got a better prognosis. His was, basically, plan the funeral. He beat the odds...by lasting two years. He was eight when he died. I was eleven." I took a breath. "You know I live alone with my father?" He nodded. "That's why. When he was diagnosed, my mother left. Couldn't deal with it. Just took off. I haven't seen her since I was 9." I needed to take another breath. "So, when I was between the ages of 9 and 11, I had to. I asked what are you thinking which he replied " I want to put my dick in you and see if it feels the same" It took a little convincing but he talked me into letting him put it in just to see what it felt like. We didn't have lube but he found some baby oil and put some on my hole and his dick.Granted Steve was probably only about 6 inches and average thickness but without knowing how to do anal there was no prepping and it hurt like hell when he forced his head into my hole. After a few. “Your loyalty is high, but it is not enough, not yet. You still have a ways to go and I am waiting.”Marshall’s eyes dart from the shadow to the artifact perched on his night stand, glistening from its use before his shower. Then he looks back to the figure. “What do I need to do to gain your trust?”“Build me an altar,” the shadow says. “You must show your loyalty through your worship to me. Prove to me that you are worthy.”Marshall swallows hard. “I can do that,” he mumbles. “I will get it. ?When it's finally all over, you'll beg for more..." ?I threw away the letters. ?After a while, they stopped and I thought it was over. I began to wonder... ?What would it have been like to be at the complete mercy of a dangerous man? ?What would it have been like to have his thick cock pushing down my throat, blocking off my air? ?What would his hands have felt like, on my body, around my throat? ?Would my cunt be as wet for him as it is now? The fateful day came not long after my wonderings..