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From: "Honore de Ball Sack" <honoredeballsack@cumy.com>
Subject: {ASSM} LITTLE EUSTACE'S VISIT TO THE VATICAN
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Date: Thu, 9 Aug 2001 08:10:02 -0400
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   <1st attachment, "vatican.txt" begin>
   **LITTLE EUSTACE'S VISIT TO THE VATICAN**
   By Honore de Ball Sack
email: HonoreDeBallSack@cumy.com
   "Golly, I just can't believe I'm going to meet the Pope himself!" said
ten year old Eustace.  "I'm ever so lucky to have won the Vatican's 2001
Smooth Boy contest!  I mean, my skin is quite soft and smooth, but I can't
help but think that the Lord Himself wanted me to be the winner.  Every
night before bed, I prayed to Him that I would win, and my prayers were
answered!"
   Eustace was sitting on a baroque, gilded chair in an office deep within
the bowels of the Vatican.  The walls were covered from floor to ceiling
with priceless masterpieces of art, and the floor was covered in polished
Jew-teeth.  Hanging from the ceiling was a chandelier made with shiny
diamonds.
   "I'm so excited I have to go pee-pee," thought Eustace.  He looked over
at the muscular Swiss Guard standing by the door in 15th century attire and
gripping a razorsharp cutlass.  "Excuse me, sir," said Eustace timidly.  "I
need to go pee-pee.  Where is your bathroom here?"
   The Swiss Guard looked at him with a sadistic grin.  "I think-a you
should hold it," he said in a strong Italian accent.  "The boss would-a
like that very much for you to hold it."
   "Oh!  Okay," said Eustace.  "Whatever his Eminence would like!" He
wondered, though, why the Holy Father would like for him to hold in his
pee-pee.
   After a long wait, the Swiss Guard received a message on his radio and
ushered little Eustace into the private bedroom of his holiness Pope John
Paul II.  The guard bolted the door behind him as he left, and Eustace was
left alone in the ornate chamber with the Pope lying on a silk-upholstered
settee.  The Holy Father had a strange look in his eyes, Eustace thought.
   "Come here, leettle boy," beckoned the elderly Polack.  His breath
reeked of vodka, like Eustace's father when he came home late.  "I vant to
see you closer."
   Eustace obeyed the commands of the senile Pope, and was honored and
pleased when the old man gently stroked his smooth boy-cheeks.  But he was
shocked when John Paul suddenly kissed him on the mouth, vigorously using
the holy tongue.
   "What are you doing, sir?" asked Eustace.
   "Shut up, leetle boy," replied the horny Pontiff.  "Eef you disobey me,
you vill go straight to Hell!"
   Eustace was terrified of Hell.  He had read about its horrible sulphuric
torture pits, eternal fires, and vengeful daemons.  "Oh, no, sir," he said
timidly, "Don't send me there!  I'll do anything.  But please, I don't want
to go to Hell!"
   "So you vill do vhat I say, leetle smoothboy.  Eef you please me vell,
you vill go to ze other place.  You vill go to the Heaven."
   Eustace nodded submissively.  He wanted ever so badly to go to Heaven.
"Okay, your Eminence," he said, "I will do whatever you please."
   "Good," leered the drooling Pope, "Now take off your clothing.  I vant
to show you ze love of God."
   Eustace slowly took off his shorts and unbuttoned his shirt.  Standing
naked before the Pope, he felt both shame and the strong passion of the
Lord.  John Paul, lubricating his jewel-encrusted scepter, told the boy to
bend over.  Eustace suddenly felt a horrible pain in his poo-poo hole.  The
Holy Father was violating his most private orifice.
   "What are you doing to me, sir?" he squealed.  "The Bible says this is a
sin!"
   The Pope roughly removed the scepter.  "Shut up you leetle fuckboy!  Eef
you speak again, I vill send you to Hell!  I vant to spank you now."
   The Pope took out a well broken-in cat o'nine tails and started flogging
the small boy's ass.  He cackled with sinful glee as he whipped little
Eustace's virgin ass cheeks.  "Foock, my arm is so tired," he said, "I need
to take the rest.  But I do have a leetle surprise for you.  Do you like ze
puppies, boy?"
   Eustace smiled and nodded yes.  "Puppies are so cute!  I love them."
   "Good," leered the smelly Polish pedophile.  He blew into a gold whistle
and a team of Rottweilers charged into the room.  The snarling hounds were
wearing platinum studded collars with hanging bejeweled crucifixes.  They
sat at attention and stared at Eustace menacingly.  "Seeck him!" shrieked
John Paul.  The dogs lined up and mounted the young boy one at a time,
fulfilling their primeval dog-lust.
   Eustace was not upset by the violent bestial rape.  He just thought
about the joys of Heaven, even as his colon was being pumped full of filthy
dog-seed.  The Pope was masturbating himself with a vile smirk on his
wrinkled face.  Eustace was filled with joy at the Pope's pleasure, and
felt so special that he was bringing His Eminence such happiness.
   The hairy, muscular Swiss Guard escorted the no-longer virginal boy to
meet his parents in Saint Peter's Square.  Eustace's mommy and daddy were
eager to hear about their little boy's meeting with the Pope.  Eustace
beamed with pride.  "I met the Pope himself, mommy and daddy!  It was
wonderful.  Maybe one day I can grow up to be the Pope!"
   He said nothing, though, of the sickening acts that went on in the
deepest recesses of the Holy Father's residence.  The Pope had instructed
him not to speak a word of what happened there, under penalty of Hell.
   ---THE END-- <1st attachment end>
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