Atonement | APPRENTICE SHEPARD | Chapter 4

When they informed me that I’d been called to attend my Atonement Ceremony, I felt confused. Atonement means just one thing to me, and that’s the acknowledgement of sin. I mean, I know we’re all sinners. I’ve read the Bible. I’ve heard the people with megaphones on street corners.

But within the context of this order, the word made no sense to me. Since arriving here I’ve done nothing but try to be a better version of myself. I’ve worked hard. I’ve certainly always presented myself as positively as possible. What was I actually atoning for?

More upsetting was the knowledge that my ceremony was to be overseen by Master Snow. To be honest, I was rather hoping to spend more time with Master Weston. I kinda thought—or maybe hoped—that we had something going.

And then it struck me… Perhaps I was atoning for my interest in him? I’ll confess to having repeatedly pleasured myself while thinking about him. I’ve also fairly regularly found myself hanging around in places where I know he’ll be, really just to catch his eye. Perhaps the truth is that I’ve embarrassed Master Weston in some way? That is a sin of sorts, isn’t it?

The ceremonial room was in a different wing of the complex, one which I’d never been given permission to enter. I was escorted there by one of the chamber servants who didn’t seem to want to speak that much. Our feet echoed loudly as we walked down the darkened corridor; I felt increasingly uneasy. The servant stopped outside a large, ornately carved, wooden door and told me, rather sternly, to wait until I was summoned. Then he vanished into the darkness. I must have waited for at least five minutes, heart pounding in my ears, before hearing my name being called from inside…

I entered, expecting the place to be clean and blindingly white like the other ceremonial rooms, but this one was quite different: This room was filled with flickering, guttering candles, and so dark I had no idea how big it was. It felt like some sort of temple and in the middle of the space there was a long, low table with a black silk sheet stretched over it.

As my eyes became accustomed to the darkness, I noticed Master Snow sitting in a suit and tie at the head of the table. Two other Masters were also present: Master Figata, and… yes! Master Weston.

My heart, of course, leapt. It was exciting to see him there; maybe I hadn’t embarrassed him after all. I turned and looked at him, expecting a smile of encouragement or at least some sort of acknowledgement, but he looked straight through me, like he didn’t know me.

My instinct was to style it out; to stand upright, affecting an air of casual confidence, like I didn’t care what he thought. This approach proved worthless rather severely when Master Snow instructed the other Masters to prepare the table. They pulled away the silk fabric to reveal what can only be described as a series of dildos of increasing sizes attached to the table top. I didn’t know what was about to happen, but it certainly made me nervous.

Snow then instructed Master Weston to prepare me. Time froze as the man I’d become so attached to stood up and walked over to me, undoing my tie with a distant, dispassionate look in his eye. I felt rejected, but there was no way I was going to show it. If Master Weston was no longer interested in me, I’d simply make him aware of what he was missing by totally nailing whatever crazy challenge was heading my way.

Weston stood behind me and undressed me slowly. I didn’t allow myself to feel intimidated. I know I have a body which men want to see. In fact, I’ve worked very hard to make sure this is the case. I remained stoic and proud, even as Weston fetched a silver tray with oil dispensers on it. I started to realize the nature of the challenge I was about to endure, and tried not to let that fact show on my face…

I know Master Weston enjoyed rubbing the oils into my body but I remained aloof. There was no way I was going to give him the benefit of seeing a chink in my armor. I knew my duty was to lower my ass down onto the first of the pegs, and I did so as unflinchingly as possible. It actually felt rather good, and so I rode it, defiantly staring Weston in the face before deliberately turning my full attention to Master Snow, who instructed me to continue to the next peg.

This one was bigger, and it certainly made me groan. I stared Master Snow in the face. I don’t really understand what happened, but in that very instant I felt a rush of insane sexual excitement. I knew I wanted Master Snow. The thought hit me like a thunder bolt—it was a visceral desire which blind-sided me. I found myself staring at him, watching him arrogantly sitting with his legs parted, and I rode that peg imagining I was riding him.

The third peg was a little more problematic, but I managed it well enough, even though it sent shivers through me. At one point I felt Master Weston’s hand on my shoulder. I figured he was trying to be reassuring or caring, but then I realized he was pushing me down further onto the peg so my ass would take the entire thing.

Master Snow asked if I was ready for the next peg. It seemed considerably wider than the one I was riding, but I knew I’d be able to take it. I was right—it took a lot of will-power and it hurt like hell, but I succeeded and I knew Master Snow was impressed. He asked if I thought I could keep going onto the penultimate peg and I nodded, despite not being entirely convinced myself…

This next peg was considerably larger and the moment I started to lower myself onto it, I felt a crashing sense of empending failure. I am, however, proud to say that I pursued the mission, even though every last part of me was screaming not to do it. I pushed myself down onto the peg, shaking uncontrollably and feeling like my butt was being torn apart by some sort of bizarre self-inflicted wound. The sensation was beyond intense. It was like nothing I’ve ever experienced. It was almost as though my body were shutting down.

There was one more peg. It was wide and not at all penis-shaped. My own dick was plainly up for the challenge—I’ve seldom been so hard—but my brain knew it was going to be impossible. I shuffled along the table and hovered over it, taking a deep breath before tentatively dropping down. I was desperately willing my hole to expand and take it, but try as I might, it just wasn’t happening. I had to acknowledge defeat, and embrace the notion that consequences were undoubtedly heading my way.

Master Snow then informed me that I now need to prove my worthiness through sacrifice. His words freaked me out, but I remained as calm as I could. Before I’d had time to process what was happening, he’d stood up and was running his thumbs over my nipples. He undid his tie and I felt my dick bouncing and dripping with pre-cum. I was nervous as all hell, but I have never felt such excitement.

He pulled down his suit pants, exposing his enormous penis, which tented obscenely in his semi-transparent garment. I had seldom seen a more beautiful thing. He instructed me to turn around and bend over and I heard the sound of him lowering his underwear and squirting oil onto his dick. He wasted no time whatsoever, slowly, but very surely, pushing his big dick into me until I thought I was going to explode. It made me yell out loud in a mixture of shock and pure ecstatic desire. He brought his leg up onto the table, wrapping his thigh around mine. I knew at that point that I wanted Master Snow more than I’ve wanted anyone or anything in my life. It sounds bizarre, but I knew he held the key which would unlock the next exciting chapter in my journey of discovery.

He fucked me mercilessly—and I never wanted it to stop. Each stroke was majestic and magical, amazing and animalistic. His dick hit places inside me that I never knew existed. I couldn’t even bring myself to look at Master Weston. My desire for him was a thing of the past. I just wanted Snow. From now on I was his and his only.

He stood me up and really hammered me. So fast. So hard. So rhythmic. He slammed his entire body into me until it was all I could do to keep myself standing upright. Then he pulled out of me and started to grunt. I felt his semen spraying up my back—all the way to my neck. It must have been the most impressive sight imaginable and I was so pleased that I’d triggered such an intense reaction from him. He pushed himself back into me and I jerked myself like a crazy person as his twitching dick continued to fill me with tiny droplets of cum.

I exploded everywhere—all over the table—all over the dildos. His dick literally pumped the semen out of my body. Then, as he kissed me with breathtaking passion, I knew I was hooked.