The organ

Three teen scouts find themselves in a gothic nightmare.

Patrons can access downloadable PDFs of most stories, 4K versions of many images, and content that I chose not to publish publicly here.

Please consider donating to my Patreon in order to receive access. Click here to find out more.


The organ

“I can’t believe that there are still towns like this. It’s like something straight out of a Dracula movie!”

Mike looked at the gothic architecture as he walked along the street with his two friends. Their hiking boots clumped on cobblestones that had been lain 850 years earlier. On either side, oppressive gothic buildings lined the road.

“Yeah man, it’s insane,” his friend Jacob said, looking around at the ancient buildings.

“It’s fucking creepy!” the third teenager said, with considerably less sense of wonder than his friends. “Hold up a moment.”

The boys stopped walking, and Arjun studied the map he was holding. After a couple of minutes, he said, “I don’t know where we are but I can’t find it on the map.”

“Let me have a look,” Jacob said, reaching for the map.

“I know how to read a map Jacob!” the Indian boy said with some annoyance.

“Really, then how come we got so lost?” Mike asked, with a grin on his face.

Arjun looked at him, disgusted that his friend had pointed out the obvious. He handed Jacob the map.

“It’s not like you two doofs did any better,” he said with a wry grin.

Jacob took the map and started looking at it. The other two huddled in close and looked with him. He traced his finger over the map. The street was deserted. There were no people, no animals, not even any parked vehicles.

“We started here,” he jabbed at the map, “and we can’t have walked more than 30 miles.”

“I dunno, we’ve been walking for two days.”

“Okay, well let’s say 50 miles and that’s way more than we can possibly have covered. But even if we say 50, there’s no towns here except for Voineasa, and we know this isn’t that.”

Arjun placed his orienteering compass on the map with the zero point at their start location, then pivoted it in a circle to show the locations that fell within the 50 mile radius. The land beneath the compass was all green and mountainous except for the small town of Voineasa.

“Man I wish I had my phone,” Arjun said.

“For the fiftieth time!”

“I know. I just think it’s dumb that they didn’t let us take our phones. What if we got lost?”

“Dude we ARE lost!” Jacob retorted.

“Right, but we wouldn’t be if we had our phones and Google Maps.”

“Yeah, but it wouldn’t have been much of an orienteering challenge then would it?”

“No, but at least we wouldn’t be lost in the middle of nowhere now.”

“We’re not in the middle of nowhere now, Arj,” Mike said.

“No, we’re in creepy town,” Arjun said, looking apprehensively at the small leaded windows that looked down on them silently from the buildings on either side of them.

“Yeah, I will definitely give you that,” Mike agreed.

“Let’s find someone to help us,” Jacob said, looking up the street.

Arjun nodded.

“Good idea. The sooner we get out of her the better.”

The three boys walked on up the street, and it opened onto a town circle with four streets intersecting at right angles to each other. There were people in the cobbled circle, and a fountain in the centre.

“Man, these guys look like they got their clothes in an antique store,” Arjun said in a low voice.

Mike said, “I guess that’s just how people dress around here. Doesn’t look like they’re all that bothered about what the rest of the world is wearing.”

“What’s that weird music?” Mike asked.

He was referring to strange tones that were wafting on the wind. It was like listening to slow motion bottle blowing music.

Jacob strained to identify the sounds. They gave him the creeps. He shivered, although it was summer.

“I don’t know. Let’s just find a phone and call skip.”


The boys approached a villager. He was the youngest looking one there. He looked about 40. The man looked at them suspiciously as they approached. Jacob spoke.

“Excuse me, do you speak English?”

The man frowned and tilted his head to the side.

“Dooo… youuuu… speeeeak… Eengliiish?”

Jacob enunciated as though he was taking to a small child. The man showed no sign of comprehension.

Jacob made a circling gesture that included himself and his two friends.

“We… looost…. neeeed… phoooone….”

He mimed talking into a phone. Comprehension dawned on the man’s face.


He pointed at the boys, then copied Jacob’s mime.

“Yes, telephone!” Jacob said, glad to have been understood.

The man shook his head.

“Nu telefon.”

“No telefon?” Jacob repeated, copying the Romanian word for “phone”.

The man shook his head.

Jacob spread his arms to encompass the surrounding town?

“Telefon?” he asked.

The man’s expression lightened.

“Da. În biserică.”

He pointed in the opposite direction to where the boys had come.

“În biserică?” Jacob queried.

“Da!” the man responded, smiling, apparently thinking that he had been understood.

It was Jacob’s turn to frown.

“You show us please?”

He gestured to the man and then at himself and his friends, then did a walking finger mime.


The man got the message and nodded.

“Da. Da. Biserică.”

He pulled at Jacob’s shoulder, and Jacob allowed himself to be lead. As they passed the fountain, Arjun saw that it had four black wrought iron gargoyle faces, each squirting water from their mouths in different directions, and facing upwards at an angle of 45 degrees as though they were singing.

The man lead them along the street, it curved and then opened up onto another straight. At the end of the straight, a couple of hundred yards ahead, heading and overlooking the street, was a church. It was no cathedral, but it was far grander than any of the other buildings.

The man stopped and pointed to the church.

“Biserică,” he said, and gestured towards the church.

The man turned and walked away with smile and a wave, leaving the boys alone in the middle of the street.

“I guess that means “church”,” Arjun said.

“Guess so,” Jacob agreed. “Maybe the priest has a phone.”

They walked towards the church.

“That music is getting louder,” Mike announced.

“I know,” Jacob agreed. “But I don’t think I’d call it music. It’s more like wind chimes. No not chimes. You know when wind blows in a small space and makes a noise. It’s more like that.”

“It’s creeping me right out,” Arjun announced.

“Yeah, me too,” Jacob agreed.

“Let’s find a phone and get the fuck out of here,” Mike said assertively, to break the mood.

“Yeah!” Jacob agreed, galvanised by his friend’s tone.

The boys strode purposefully down the street, eager now to find a phone and a way back to their 21st century world. They reached the church, and opened one of the two the heavy oak doors. They walked in past the vestibule and into the nave. The roof was nearly 50 feet high, and high stained glass windows arrayed along either side cast unearthly shafts of light into the church, catching in sparkling multi-coloured glimmers, on the motes of dust that floated in the air.

The unearthly music was loud now, yet the church seemed still. The warm air outside did not penetrate the building. Its stone floor and walls emanated chill.

The boys paused for a moment, unsettled by the strangeness. Arjun looked up at the windows. There were pictures of creatures, and epic battles, and in several adjoining panes, what appeared to be a choir singing, surrounded by an odd contraption. Their faces did not appear joyful.

Arjun nudged Mike.

“Why is that choir naked?” he asked looking up at the panes.

“Man that’s freaky,” Mike answered, without offering an answer.

“Look, we don’t need to do this. Maybe we can just try again with the map?” Arjun offered.

Jacob and Mike exchanged glances, clearly considering the idea.

“No, we’re here now,” Mike said. “Let’s just find the priest, use his phone and get the fu..”

He checked himself. He wasn’t religious, but it seemed like the wrong time and place for profanity.

“…and get the hell out of here,” he finished, wishing immediately that he’d used a different expletive.

The boys walked forwards between the dark wooden benches, looking for someone to speak to. They were quiet, reverential. The place seemed to demand it. The notes were clearer now. More distinctly tonal, yet occurring in only the vaguest musical pattern.

They looked up ahead, past the chancel to a lecturn. There was no-one there. Then Jacob sensed movement. Behind the lecturn and to the right was a large church organ, with huge pipes extending from it. There was a figure sitting at it, with his back to the boys. Jacob wondered how he had not immediately seen the figure. He tapped Arjun’s shoulder to attract his attention. Arjun stopped walking and turned to where Jacob was pointing. Mike stopped too. The man was playing the instrument, but it was clear from his movements that he was playing incredibly slowly.

“Hello? Sir?” Jacob called respectfully.

The figure sat bolt upright, then swivelled on his stool to see who had disturbed him.

The boys half expected to see Count Dracula, but in fact, the man who faced them was ordinary, in his 30s, with brown hair. He was dressed in a black clerical shirt, complete with white collar. His expression was initially one that said, “What on earth are you doing here?” but it was quickly replaced with a smile. He stood and walked over to the boys.

“Alo. Eeenglish?” he said with a thick Eastern Romanian accent.

Jacob looked at Mike with a smile, relieved to have found someone he could communicate with. Mike grinned back.

“No, American sir. We’re lost. Can we use your phone please?”

“Looost. Can’t find your waaay?” the priest enquired with drawl.

“Yes sir. We were hiking, but we got lost.”

“From howww faaaar?”

“How far?”

“Yeeees. Howww faaaar you hiiiking frooom?”

The man’s drawl had a musical quality.

“We’re not quite sure. We’ve been walking for two days. Maybe 30 miles or more.”

“Verry sad. No-one knows where you aaare.”

Jacob misunderstood the comment as a question, rather than a statement.

“No sir, that’s why we have to phone our skip; our leader, to let him know where we are so that he can come and get us.”

“Goooood. I see. I get telefon. Pleease to wait heere.”

The priest walked went through a door at the side of the transept. A few moments later, a figure came back through the door wearing a brown cowled robe, followed by another, and another, and another. The figures were small – perhaps the size of a seven year old child, their heads were bowed, and the boys couldn’t see their faces. Over a dozen of the small figures entered the church silently. The boys looked at each other uneasily, and backed away from the front of the church. The small figures continued moving towards them. The boys turned back towards the vestibule ready to leave, and were unpleasantly surprised to see even more of the figures flowing into the church from that direction. The boys huddled together as the figures moved towards them, surrounding them.

The priest entered through the door from which he had exited.

“Boooys, I thought youuu would liiike to see our church ooorgan?”

The boys looked at each other apprehensive.

“Umm, not really sir,” Jacob said, looking down at all the hooded figures around him. “We just want to use the phone and go home.”

“Not befoore you see ooorgan,” the priest said, walking towards the front of the church. The brown-robed figures shuffled forwards, and the boys were forced to move towards the front of the church with them. Mike was becoming increasing unsettled by the fact that they could see none of the figures’ faces.

Behind the organ, there was a huge crimson curtain that reached from the ceiling to the floor. It was divided in the middle. The priest walked to the side by the organ and started to pull down on a rope. The curtains swung apart and what the boys saw behind terrified them.

There was a wall, 80 feet wide and 40 feet high at its lowest point. Secured to the wall were dozens of males. Each of them was naked, and they were secured in a sitting position with their legs apart and each wore an expression of terror.

The boys looked at the wall, eyes and mouths wide, for what seemed like an eternity, but in reality was no more than a few seconds.

“Iiimpressive iiisn’t iit?”

As one, the three boys broke for the door, desperately trying to wade through the mass of small figures that surrounded them. The figures reacted instantly, surging underfoot and over them like a wave. They were surprisingly strong, and the boys were felled like deer beneath a pack of hungry lions. The hoods fell back on a number of the figures to reveal faces that were not quite human: hairless, pale skin, black eyes with no whites, pointed ears, and teeth like piranhas.

As they glimpsed their attackers, the boys writhed and struggled even harder, but there were at least 10 creatures to each Scout and the teenagers had no chance against such odds.

The creatures tore at them, pulling at their clothes. Backpacks, shirts, boots, socks, shorts, and last of all, underwear was ripped from the teenagers with no regard. The boys screamed, and yelled, struggling as though their lives were on the line. As the small clawed hands tore at their underwear, shredding it into ribbons, the boys redoubled their already herculean efforts in an almost superhuman attempt to maintain their modesty, but they were leaves before a hurricane, and in less than two minutes, they were pinned, spread-eagled and naked on the cold stone floor slabs.

The boys continued struggling futilely, as more figures arrived carrying metal frames covered in brown leather. The frames were chair-like, with tall straight backs connected to arm rests. The “seats” were made of two flat pieces of metal forming a wide V shape with its base missing, and it was connected to the rest via thin metal bars beneath the arm rests.

Arjun was pulled onto a chair, and a strap was pulled around his waist and his chest, forcing him to sit upright on the seat, with his naked bottom pulled in tight to the base. He discovered that the missing piece left his butt exposed and dangling, but he had no time to think about it, as his arms were pulled down onto the arms of the chair and strapped by the biceps, elbows and wrists, with his palms facing upwards. Even as his arms were being strapped, he felt his legs being secured as well. They were pulled wide apart to an angle beyond 90 degrees so that they rested on the metal V, then secured at upper thighs and just above the knees. The base was six inches longer than the distance to his knees, so the creatures shortened the adjustable base until each side stopped a few inches short of Arjun’s knees.

A leather face mask was pulled onto him that only covered his mouth and wrapped around to the back of his head. There was an inward facing copper rim, an inch deep and slightly oval in shape, attached to the mask, that was forced into his mouth, preventing him from closing it. His lips were stretched tightly, forming a seal around the metal. Straps were passed through flat metal loops stitched into the face mask, and tightened to the rear of the back, holding his head tightly against it. Apart from his lower legs, Arjun was now completely immobilised.

His chair was lifted by four of the creatures and carried towards the wall. Four feet in front of the wall, a chain with a hook on the end descended from the ceiling, and one of the creatures connected it to a loop at the rear of the chair. Arjun could see his two friends being similarly secured into chairs. He was almost apoplectic with terror, and he screamed hysterically. The man approached and looked down at him with an expression of gentle amusement on his face. The man grabbed the other end of the chain, and pulled it, effortlessly lifting the 170 pound boy off the floor with just his left arm. As Arjun’s eyes rose to meet the man’s, the boy was screaming himself hoarse.

“Quieet. Save your breath,” the man cooed.

Arjan’s screaming didn’t abate one iota. The man looked down at Arjun’s low-hanging balls in his dark brown scrotum. He flicked underneath the left one with his right middle finger. The boy’s testicle leapt upwards as though it had been hit with a bat, and slapped against his stomach before dropping back into his sack. Arjun’s eyes shot open in pain and he yelped like a kicked puppy.

In a low tone, the man calmly said, “I saiiid quieet.”

Arjun looked at the man, his eyes creasing with pain, and he started sobbing, controlling his instinct to scream. Instinctively, he tried to close his legs to protect himself from further assault, but he couldn’t move them at all. He knew that he was totally exposed and at the mercy of the man. Arjun  looked at his captor, wishing that he could find something to say to persuade the man to give him his freedom, and only too aware, that even if he came up with something, he could never make himself understood with the copper pipe in his mouth. Much as he wanted; no needed, to be optimistic about his fate, the presence of the other males on the wall made it abundantly clear to Arjun that he was in serious trouble, and escape was unlikely to be an option. As he thought about all those other guys, he was filled with deep despair.

The man pulled the chain and Arjun was lifted higher and higher, his left testicle aching as though it had been kicked by a mule. When he was nearly 30 feet off the floor, the chair stopped ascending. The man was below Arjun’s peripheral vision and he could not lower his head to see where the man stood. Two of the creatures scrambled up the wall behind Arjun, clambering as lithe as monkeys over the other captives. When they reached his height, they pulled his chair back towards the wall and locked it into place with pre-prepared fixings, then they clambered back down the wall and out of sight.

To Arjun’s amazement, the priest rose in front of him. Arjun looked downwards. The man not standing on anything – he was floating!  Arjun’s terror rose to new heights, and he lost control of his bladder. He could feel the urine pouring from him, but he was so horrified that it was on no concern to him. The priest smiled at him and slid a curved and hollow needle, some six inches long, into the vein on underside of the boy’s left arm. Arjun’s blood oozed from the tube. The man reached to the boy’s side. There was a thin plastic pipe with a valve on it poking out of the wall. The man twisted the valve to open it and brown nutritional fluid started to drip from the pipe. When the man was happy that the pipe was delivering a steady flow of fluid, he pulled it further from the wall and attached it to the needle sticking out of Arjun’s arm. The man lifted his right hand and rubbed his index finger repeatedly against the side of his thumb. A thin wisp of smoke drifted up from between his fingers. The man reached forwards and pressed his thumb briefly against Arjun’s arm where the needle entered. Arjun felt searing pain as the wound was cauterised, sealing the feeding needle into his vein.

Reaching for the wall between Arjun’s legs, the priest pulled out an extendible arm. On the end of the arm, were two pairs of small silver metal clamps with wires that lead back into the arm. The clamps looked like chicken feet. The man raised the right clamp beneath Arjun’s scrotum, then carefully closed the claws around the youth’s large right testicle. The man repeated the procedure, closing the other clamp around Arjun’s deeply aching left testicle. Then the priest tightened each clamp until each of the boy’s testicles was under firm but not uncomfortable pressure.

Arjun’s already immense sense of foreboding jumped into overdrive as he felt his balls being squeezed between the claws. The clamps were not tight enough to cause pain, but visions of having his nuts crushed flooded Arjun’s imagination.

The man reached deeper between the boy’s legs, and to Arjun’s alarm, he felt something hard and slippery squeezing between his buttocks. The man aimed it carefully, targeting the boy’s unprotected sphincter. He pressed the object against the boy’s hole, and then pushed it upwards. Arjun tensed his sphincter muscles, but with his legs spread wide there was nothing he could do to stop the object from stretching his hole and slipping inside. In his short years of life, Arjun had never had anything pass through his sphincter in that direction. He’d never had a thermometer there because of childhood illness; had never been moved to explore his body cavities with a finger; and had certainly never allowed anyone else to insert part of their bodies, so having a lumpy metal dildo forced up inside him was an entirely new experience. The sense of violation was overwhelming. The feeling of his sphincter lips opening and slurping at the hard objected as it invaded him was unique and disturbing. Arjun was unsettled at how the nerves in his sphincter responded as the bumpy surface of the object slid across them. Despite his immense disgust at being penetrated, his body responded with a kind of excitement; eagerness even, as nerves he’d never even been aware before, were tantalised.

The man pushed the dildo up into the boy’s hole until he encountered firm resistance, then locked the dildo’s thruster arm, calibrating it so that it could go no further, then he pulled it out of the boy. Arjun felt considerable relief as it exited him, but his relief was to be short lived.

The hovering man pulled a U shaped bar down over the front of the teenager’s head. It was hinged as the base behind his head, and came around either side of his face. At the front, in the middle, was a hollow tongue-like protrusion, 6 inches long, three inches wide and an inch deep at its thickest point, with a large hole at the tip. The man pushed the U shaped bar back towards Arjun’s head, as a theme park worker might lock a passenger into a ride, sliding the copper tongue through the hole in the face mask, and into the boy’s mouth. The priest pushed it right to back of the boy’s throat. Arjun gagged as it touched his uvula, and the man pulled it out half an inch. If the boy vomited, he might choke, and that was not part of the man’s plan for him.  The man pinched Arjun’s nostrils shut, forcing him to breathe through his mouth. The sound of Arjun’s breaths was amplified by the hollow pipes connected to the copper tongue. The man released Arjun’s nose, satisfied that the boy would be able to breathe through the mouthpiece, and placed a small sprung clamp over the boy’s nostrils, holding them permanently shut.

Arjun stared at the man, his eyes bush baby wide with horror. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t speak, his balls and nostrils were clamped, and his mouth was filled. He wondered what else the man had planned for him, but to his relief, the man floated to the side out of his view. Even if his head was not strapped to the back of the chair, the metal tongue would have prevented Arjun from turning. The teenager heard his friends screaming as they struggled for freedom. He imagined the scene as they both fought like wildcats, against impossible odds. Then he heard a yelp. Arjun wasn’t certain which of his friends it was, but he guessed by the high pitch, that it was Mike. Then only one voice was shouting, and Arjun knew only too well how the other person had been silenced. His own testicle was still aching as a reminder.

Although he could see nothing, Arjun was trying to work out what was happening just by sound alone. After ten minutes, his friends became as quiet as he was. Then the curtain was pulled in front of him, and he was left to his miserable thoughts…


The following morning, the curtain was drawn back. Jacob looked down and he could see dozens of people sitting in the church pews. He was two rows below Arjun; barely 15 feet from the nearest person. Although he could not identify anyone specific that he’d seen the day before, they looked like the townspeople that they had passed in the town circle earlier. In spite of his humiliating nudity, Jacob’s emotions leapt. Surely now these people would free him, or inform the authorities? His optimism quickly plummeted as he realised that the villagers were looking at him and the other victims, not with shock, but simply with the mildest of interest.

The priest appeared in front of the church and started speaking. None of the boys could understand a word.

In ancient Romanian, the man said, “My flock, today is a special day, for we have three new notes.”

He gestured towards each of the boys in turn, and the villagers looked where he indicated, nodding and murmuring. As the priest finished pointing out the last “note”, the villagers clapped heartily to show their approval.

Now we have 63 notes. Just 25 more to go. According to tradition, this morning, I will perform the Sonata of Pleasure.

He went and sat at the organ, and turned a dial at the side. The boys felt a tingling sensation in their balls. To their dismay, sitting right there in front of dozens of people, legs spread wide, they quickly developed fierce erections. Jacob’s circumcised 4 inch chub curved upwards tightly against his belly, as did Mike’s 5.5 inches. Both boys sighed softly into their mouth pipes as they were forced against their  wills to get the  hardest erections of their lives. Arjun’s thick 8 inch brown log also hardened and rose, coming to rest at an angle just over 90 degrees. His long, thick foreskin peeled back to reveal a surprisingly pink glans that contrasted sharply with the nearly black skin of his penis. Around them, the boys could hear the other soft groans of teenagers and men being similarly stimulated.

The priest began his slow performance. He pressed a key and Mike heard a young man next to him moan. His heavy breath passed into the now open pipe, and across a reed, making a note. A boy close to Arjun provided another note, then another man added another. Then Arjun added his own note. The slippery, lumpy metal pole pushed up into his hole, and at the same time, the tingling in his balls increased tenfold. Humiliating or not, he could not resist letting out a moan of pleasure as the pole penetrated him.

The priest continued to play his slow sonata, and within a few minutes, every one of the 63 notes was drooling precum, knowing that their bodies were the maestro’s to command.

And so, as the priest played his sonata, his three new notes looked out over the congregation, and involuntarily added their ecstatic voices to the resident choir. As always, the sonata reached a messy climax.

In eight hours, the Scouts would add their voices to the Symphony of Pain…


  • What lucky boys.

    This is a masterful piece. I truly envy these boys. To be naked on display to an entire town of strangers while humiliated and forced to cum must be wonderful.

    • Thank you very much – I’m glad you enjoyed it!

Leave a Comment

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.