I began to explode, unable to contain him as his power
spurted forth into me, coating me for faster, more powerful
thrusts and explosions. My every cell was inundated with his
lust, heated to white-hot, until I could take it no more and lost
consciousness.

I awoke the next day, and knew that now, I was truly a
Templar. I felt the power of the demonseed filling me, and knew
that I could release it at will, that I had the true power within
me, and I was Baphomet’s, now and forever.

Baphomet’s grin was terrible to behold.

He held out his hands, inviting the challenge. The power
rushed back through me, and I accepted, locking my fingers with
his, using all my strength in the age-old game. He towered above
me, pushing down, but still I held, and pushed back. His
strength doubled, and doubled again; still I held, and forced
back. I became a statue, exerting all my strength while his
doubled and pressed ever down against me. Then, his height
became in relation to mine, and his cock curved up from his crotch, engorged with blood, to my mouth. To break my
stance would be to be crushed. The head of his phallus pressed
hugely against my lips, rubbing and wettening them. With his
strength ever doubling, I could not help but open my mouth to
breath, allowing the cock entry. Shifts of his body and torso in
attempts to dislodge my stance rubbed the head against my helpless, panting, licking tongue, overwhelming me with the power of
his scent and taste.

The fourth circle held the Giant, who looked down at me and
grinned evilly. He threw a boulder at me, which I shattered with
a slap, and then I raised him off the ground as Heracles did to
Antaeus, and crushed the life out of him, redoubling my strength.
In the fifth circle, I slew the Minotaur by taking each of his
horns in a hand, and breaking open his skull. I was imbued with
the powers of a demigod at least by this time, walking into the
sixth circle, the one holding the dragon. The fight was hard,
the flames of the dragon almost enough to make me falter, but
then I realized that they were power too, and took them for my
own, absorbing it into my shield while I made my heart’s thrust
with my blade. The dragon’s blood fountained out, covering me,
and by its power my skin was made invulnerable like that unto the
skin of Achilleus.

“Is this Brad Carson?” The voice asked.

“Yes,” I replied.

“I’ve been watching how you’re into alien bestiality with that
cat and YOU’RE SICK!” he said, hanging up.

I blew up. What the snippy little queen didn’t realize was that
I made enough money to afford one of those phone attachments that
display the number of whomever is calling you. I dialed him
right back.

“Listen you gutless faggot,” I said when he answered, “why don’t
you take your anger out on whoever made you so hostile instead of
dumping on other gay people? Go home and beat up the bullies in
your school yard or your parents if they abused you. Take up
martial arts training if you aren’t able to do it now.”

“Fuck you,” a snippy-sounding voice replied.

“You can say ‘fuck you’ for the rest of the evening,” I snapped
back, “and it won’t change the fact that you’re no better than a
straight bigot who makes obscene phone calls to gays. If you
ever wonder what motivates them to go out of their way to hurt
someone who hasn’t done anything to them, you only have to look
at yourself. Well, if it takes fear of the straights to keep
some of you faggot snips civil, I’m letting you know that I’m
just as capable as a straight guy of giving you a busted lip if
you mouth off to me.” I hung up with a bang.