The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The heat was unbearable.

The boi gasped, throat dry, as his muscled, naked body seemed to melt in the heat. His caramel-coloured body glistened with sweat as he writhed on the bed, unable to move. Why couldn’t he move?

It was only then that he seemed to notice the chains biding his arms and legs.

He was bound to the bedframe in a messiah-like T-pose, except for the fact that he was laying face-down. In the back of his mind, he noticed that this wasn’t his own bed; it was a Queen size-for one, and the sheets were far too soft for his liking.

But none of that mattered to the boi right now. Right now, he was only focused on one thing: his own raging erection.

The boi humped the bed like a rutting animal, his only purpose to expel his seed. Yet, no matter how much he bucked his hips, moaning in literal heat, he could not reach the orgasm he so desired.

Had it been minutes? Hours? Days? He could only moan, humping the mattress underneath him. He had never been so hard in his life. His 7inch cock felt like a steel rod, hard enough to break through the mattress, if he tried enough. And at this rate, he thought it might.

And yet, here he still was, a bitch in heat, sweat and pre-cum soaking the sheets under him. The air stank of sex and perspiration, turning the boi on even more.

“Please...” Carlos moaned to no one in particular, “Please...”

Something seemed to pass over the boi’s naked body at that moment, giving shade from the unbearable heat. Momentarily surprised, the boi gasped, still trying to fuck his sheets.

Despite not being able to see him—and somehow, the boi knew it was a ‘him,’—the boi felt that the being smiled at him.

“Not yet, babygirl,” the voice was deep and rumbling, sending electric shivers through the boi’s body. His asshole twitched involuntarily.

“Not yet...”

And Carlos woke up.

These dreams had been occurring more frequently lately, Carlos noted as he got ready for the day. He was only now getting his routine back to normal, after what happened six months ago. However, today was a special day. A good day. A day he had been looking forward to even before the tragic accident.

Today was the day Carlos moved to college.

As Carlos stepped out of the shower and surveyed himself in the mirror, he smiled bitterly.

Would dad be proud of who I am now? Carlos wondered.

Six months ago, Carlos’ parents passes away in a car accident. It had been sudden and life-altering to Carlos, especially since it happened on the very day he turned 18. All of a sudden, Carlos had to figure out how to be an adult, and actual proper adult; with adult responsibilities. Since Carlos didn’t have any other blood relatives to lean on for support, he had no-one to teach him. Of course, he had picked up some things through osmosis, but the sudden absence of a guiding force in his life left a deep impression in Carlos’ mental state. After all, it had been the very first time in his life that Carlos had been well and truly alone.

Luckily, Carlos’ parents had been good, hardworking Christians, and had instilled Carlos within the loving local Church community. Carlos did not know how he could have dealt with all this without the weekly sermons, the Sunday events, and Father Jamison’s wise words. He even grew to appreciate Old Myrtle’s stnadard lemon pie—everyone knew it was store-bought, but it had a comforting effect on Carlos; something that stayed the same amongst the sea of change.

However, not even church could completely fill the hole in Carlos’ heart.

Seeing himself in the mirror, all Carlos could see was how much he had changed. His looked more mature now, his usual playful smile now morphed into something a sadder. His usual, clean-cut face was unshaven, and his deep green eyes seemed to be hiding something dark behind them.

He had also let himself go a little, physically. Before the accident, Carlos had regularly worked out, sculpting himself a body worthy of Adonis. However, the past six months had taken it’s toll. His former, well-defined muscles had lost some of their, shape, smoothing out. He was less bulky, more wiry now, slimmer. Carlos had managed not to gain any fat; as routines went, dieting and core exercises weren’t too time consuming, and they kept his mind off the terrible sense of loss.

As he inspected himself, Carlos turned around. His ass was just as bubbly and juicy as before, jiggling as he moved. However, what put Carlos’ mind at ease was the strange birthmark just above his ass, on his lower back. To Carlos, it looked like a pair of bat-like wings exteding from a small heart, with short fangs portruding upwards from the centre. His father had always said it looked like angel wings and a halo to them, and most everyone else who had seen it had agreed. Carlos supposed he just had a different way of looking at things. Possibly because he was gay.

Carlos briefly wondered if he looked at the world differently because he was gay, or he was gay because he looked at the world differently. He thought about this more often than he realised, and most of the time, he decided it was the former. Being gay was never a choice for Carlos; he had never had the slightest sexual attraction to women. As such, even as a child, Carlos had felt that there was something missing inside him, like there was something everyone else had that he didn’t.

Of course, feeling this way, all of this been quite overwhelming when Carlos first discovered his sexuality. When he came out to his parents, he had done so crying, believing his very being was a sin; that his own existence was an abomination. Surprisingly, his father had been nothing but understanding, and helped Carlos better understand himself and his place in the world.

“You were created the way you were for a purpose,” his father had told him, “But the choice is still yours; you can live a life of purity and chastity, or a life of sin. Whichever you choose, son, we will give you our complete support.”

Carlos smiled at the memory of his father’s words. It was from then on that Carlos believed that being gay was his Test from God. His father had taught him so much, how could Carlos ever repay him? How could Carlos ever become the man his father wanted him to be? But even as he thought these thoughts, Carlos couldn’t help but feel comforted by the lofty goals of his father.

Absentmindedly, Carlos began to stroke his birthmark, sending shivers through his body. It had always been this way. Carlos did not know why, but his birthmark seemed to be some kind of soft spot for his body. It wasn’t so bad that he couldn’t wear shirts or anything, but if had seemed to have gotten more sensitive lately...

Carlos shook himself out of his thoughts. This was no time for mindless wondering. He needed to get ready.

Sixteen hours, a plane ride, and an uber later, Carlos found himself on campus. The main walkway was already bustling with students, most just trying to find their place. Another large portion of the students seemed to be handing out leaflets and flyers for...well, pretty much everything.

Fallhampton University, New York. Carlos had only come here once before, with his parents to check out the campus. At the time, his father had looked down on it as being “too liberal.” Eventually, Carlos had managed to get him to admit that the bioengineering programme was one of the best in the world. However, that was about as far as he had gotten to having him come round...

Still, Carlos thought, I know what’s best for me. This is what I want.

Ever since his parents had died, Carlos had given a lot of thought to what he wanted. He knew what his father wanted from him; to be a good Christain, and after a lot of thought, Carlos found that he too, wanted that. Not because his father had told him it was the right thing to do, but because Carlos himself felt that being a good Christian was a moral choice. To Carlos, a Christian meant someone who loved God, and all his Creation, and thus did their hardest to bring out the best in everyone. Carlos truely believed that Christianity was the way to lead a good, happy, and fulfilling life.

However, he wasn’t as dogmatic as his father. Carlos knew of the realities of the world, and how even non-Christians could find happiness in this world. It was the next world that non-Christians needed to consider, yet they did not believe as Carlos did. However, while Carlos believed that he should do his best to guide others on the right path, he also knew that ultimately, it was an individual decision. He could not convince someone who did not wish to believe, and thus, he did not try. He did try to understand the beliefs of non-Christians however, and did see their thoughts as something worth considering. After all, if Carlos did not have an open mind to the masses, how could he expect the masses to open their minds to him?

As such, Carlos adopted a policy of making nice with everyone, keeping everyone happy. It did not matter what they believed or didn’t believe. As his father had taught him: Do unto others, and they do unto you. But never be cruel, or cowardly. And, as his mother used to say: “Always take the initiative to bring the light to another’s world.” This was Carlos’ ideal man; strong, protective, and cared for others. And also buff. Nothing wrong with looking good, although he did need to be wary of vanity.

“You seem like a godly fellow,” said a voice from behind Carlos, making him jump.

Carlos turned, to find a large, smiling student with a clipboard, and a large handful of flyers ready to hand out.

“We’ve just met. My name is Jude,” said the student, holding out a hand. Carlos instinctively took it.

“Carlos. Carlos Ramirez.”

“Solid grip there, Carlos,” said Jude, “Someone taught you how to give a good handshake.”

Carlos smiled at that, letting his guard down a little.

“Although...Carlos Ramirez...” Jude looked down at his clipboard, looking for something.

“Ah! Here it is, Carlos Ramirez, age 18, from Houston, Texas?” Jude looked up to a confused Carlos.

“Every year, our affiliated Church does a draw for underpriveleged students. The top five winners get free accommodation for their first year.”

This was a lot of information at once for Carlos.

“Free accommodation? For a year? I don’t remember signing up for something like that...”

“Did you sign up for campus boarding?”

Carlos nodded.

“Then your name was automatically put in the draw. It is strange you don’t know about it, an email should have been sent out...”

“I might’ve missed it. Or it went to junk,” said Carlos, rationalising the situation. After all, free boarding sounded like a dream. Almost too good to be true...

“Well, it does say you haven’t confirmed your place in the draw,” said Jude, “Would you like to do that now?”

“Can I pull out of it?” asked Carlos.

Jude gave Carlos a quizzical look, making Carlos smile.

“It’s just that it seems a bit too good to be true.”

“Ah, being wary of worldly rewards. Good man,” said Jude.

Carlos smiled. Being complimented by a good looking guy like Jude wasn’t a bad feeling.

“The catch is that the place is right next to the Church, and a little far from campus,” said Jude, “Not a lot of people are open to that sort of thing.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” said Carlos suspiciously.

Jude put up his hands in mock defeat.

“There is also a catch,” he confessed, “The winner will be asked, and highly encouraged, to come to the Church’s new school year party—which we call our ‘New Beginnings Party.’ It’s on the 31st of October.”

“On Halloween? Isn’t that a little late?” said Carlos.

“Well...it’s more to draw people away from the more...y’know...” Jude seemed almost sheepish.

Carlos smiled at that. He figured he knew how to deal with Jude’s type.

“Well...alright. When’s the draw?”

Carlos figured he was going to check out the local church anyway. Might as well get some free accommodation, if he was lucky. And if he was, church events were fun. At least, if the ones here were anything like the ones back home. And surprisingly, it seemed like they were. Carlos had not expected to meet Jude’s type of churchgoer here in New York. Maybe college wouldn’t be as lonely as he thought it would be.

The boi was naked, kissing another man, on a park bench. The weather, as always, was blisteringly hot, the smell of sweat permeating the air.

In the back of his mind, the boi was worried. What if someone came along? What if others saw? What would they say? And yet, as the man’s tongue gently met with the boi’s, he couldn’t bring himself to move. The stench of sweat seemed to dull the boi’s mind making him more receptive to the man’s advances.The boi’c cock was already at full mast, jutting awkwardly from the boi’s tightly closed legs. He was so hard...

Yet, the boi resisted. He kept his arms down his sides, gripping the park bench. He kissed the man back passionately yet kept his hands to himself. The man had no such qualms, and was exploring the boi’s slippery, taut body with his own rough hands. The boi couldn’t help but moan as the man held him closer, hand moving down to the small of his back, where the brand was. As usual, the boi felt his body shudder as the man touched the brand on the small of his back. The man began to caress the brand, stroke it, then press into it, making the boi moan, and-

“Ooooooooh!”

It was like a switch had been flipped inside the boi’s mind and body, as he let out an uncharecteristically feminine moan. He spread his legs open almost as if on instinct, letting his boi-cock bounce freely, and moved himself onto the man’s lap.

The man chuckled into the boi’s ear.

“That’s a good boy,” he growled, “Think with your hole. Let the Mark take over.”

The boi could only moan into the man’s neck, desperate to feel more of His masculine body. He began bucking his hips on the man’s lap, but not to satisfy the heat in his cock.

The boi’s skin felt like it was on fire, every touch sending shocks of electricity through his body, and into something buried deep within his twitching asshole. The boi didn’t care about his cock anymore, though it was still harder than ever. This spot deep within him seemed to pulse with need; with a flaming desire to be touched, felt, wanted. He grinded the ass into the man’s thigh, sitting on his lap, desperate for some kind of satisfaction.

“Who am I?” the Man growled, making the boi gasp. His voice seemed to reverberate in his skull, sending shocks down his body, making his asshole twitch. Was the smell of sweat getting stronger? The ever increasing heat seemed to be melting the boi’s brain, down, down, down, into that pulsing, heated spot inside his ass.

“MmmmmmmmmmmIII...y..yuuu...”

The boi slurred his words, his mind unable to completely catch up. Thinking was so hard...he just wanted...he knew...

“...youuuu...”

BEEEE​EEEEE​EEEEE​EEEEE​EEEEE​EEEEE​EEEEE​EEEEE​EEEEE​EEEEE​EEEEE​EEEE-

EEEEE​EEEEE​EEEEE​EEEEE​EEEEE​EEEEE​EEEEE​EEEEE​EEEEE​EEEEE​EEEEE​EEEEE​EEEEE​EEEEE​EEEEE​EEEEE​EEEP!

Carlos’ slammed his hand onto the snooze button of the alarm cock. Alarm clock. Clock.

It took a moment for him to remember where he was; his apartment—the one he had won in the church raffle. Carlos had thought it would be a simple, one room deal, with a small kitchen and bathroom, and a bare, spartan bed. The actual apartment was quite comfortable; with it’s own full-sized kitchen, two sinks in the bathroom, a decent living room with a 4K TV hanging on the wall and a comfortable but worn sofa, and a wall-sized mirror opposite a Queen-sized bed in the bedroom. Apparently, the Church was going to sell the bed and swap it out for a more economic one at a later date, but until then, Carlos was sleeping in silk and satin sheets. It was still quite uncomfortable for Carlos to be sleeping in what seemed like shameless decadence, compared to what he was used to. After all, his father had taught him that true happiness came from God, not from the material world. However, Carlos accpeted the fact that this was the situation now, and there was nothing he could do about it. Besides, it wasn’t as if this had been his choice. And it helped that the place had been set up to have a cross in every room—although, Carlos felt that having on in the bathroom was little overzealous. Plus, the crosses were a little strange. Instead of two rectangular sticks coming to make a ‘t,’ these crosses were cylandrical in shape and spherical at the end, looking like a comic sans version of the cross. Even so, Carlos learnt to deal with it.

However, luxury did come with a price. Carlos found that in order to maintain such a place, he needed to be constantly cleaning. Everything from the dusting, to the cleaning of the bathroom had to be done by him, and him alone. Not that he minded the work, as it helped him think less about the lonliness he felt. However, it did take time away from Carlos’ other responsibilities, such as schoolwork, and even friends. In the two weeks he had been in college, Carlos had not had the time to go out and enjoy himself, simply because he needed to clean.

Which was why he had set the alarm for today. Today was Sunday, and he was going to church and making some friends. Hopefully, he’d run into Jude again.

But Carlos wasn’t thinking about any of that right now.

He groaned as he tore the wet sheets off himself, panting in bed. He turned over and lay there, shirtless with pyjama pants, as he contemplated his latest dream.

This latest one had been the most vivid yet. Up until now, the Man had simply watched him squirm, or if He had interacted with Carlos, Carlos had been able to resist a little. But this time, the Man had used Carlos’ weak spot against him. His lower back—specifically his birthmark—had always been quite sensitive. Yet in the dream it felt like it had been crackling with electric desire, ready to blow at the slightest touch.

Absentmindedly, Carlos let a finger graze his birthmark.

“Oh!”

He gasped involuntarily, as sparks seemed to spread from the Mark and into his cock. His dick had still been throbbing from that dream, and this had only made it harder.

However, the more worrying thing was that it seemed to again awaken that spot in Carlos’ ass that cried out so desperatly to be touched. It pulsed with forbidden desire, tempting Carlos to rub his birthmark again.

The alarm rang again, and this time, Carlos got up. The cool air against his skin dimmed the fire in his loins somewhat, and he went to get a glass of water.

This is getting out of hand, thought Carlos, gulping his water down with a single motion, These dreams might be trying to tell me something. But what?

Try as he might, Carlos could not think of the reason why he was suddenly having stupidly hot dreams about a mysterious, faceless stranger. Carlos’ fantasies, when he allowed himself to have them, usually involved a kind and considerate husband, who was submissive to him in bed. And yet, Carlos couldn’t deny that these dreams, where this sexy stranger dominated him...

As Carlos leaned back onto the counter, another, sudden spark of heat pulsed through his loins. He twitched forwards instinctively, away from the source of the pleasure—his Mark coming in contact with the side of the counter.

I must be really frustrated, thought Carlos, pouring himself another glass. Usually, when Carlos got like this, he just got into a cold shower until the thoughts went away. So he figured he would do just that...right after he fnished this water...

Unconsciously—and still downing his glass—Carlos pressed his legs together, sqeezing his buttocks, trying to make the pulsing sensation in his ass go away. He stood there for a while, tesning his buttocks and releasing, until he finished his water, and slammed the glass onto the counter. Ooooooh, that felt good...He gripped the edge of the counter, taking in a deep breath, as he pushed his back and ass out, clenching and unclenching...clenching and uncleanching...legs slowly moving further apart...moaning...

A full hour passed before Carlos realised he was going to be late for his first day of church.

“...and that is the truth of compassion: hate the sin, but love the sinner.”

The students in the crowd stirred as the priest gave his sermon. His loud sonorous voice easily filled the room, and his dark, Nubian features made him stand out against the white of his robes.

As the black priest continued his sermon, some members simply got up and left. However, the priest could see that some of the faces had listened intently to what he had said, and were nodding in agreement. He noted a particular new face in the crowd, a handsome young Latino man, was nodding quite vigorously.

In truth, Carlos was trying very hard to concentrate on the priest’s words. His cold shower earlier had a strange effect on his body. While his cock had calmed down, the consistent torrent of water on his birthmark had built up a veritable black hole of desire in Carlos’ ass. It had taken all of his willpower to come out of the shower, sphincter tightening and looseing, as desire throbbed inside Carlos. It had not stopped when Carlos tried on clothes; even the smallest touch of fabric against his birthmark sent an ache of longing into Carlos’ ass. However, he couldn’t look unpresentable to church. So he sucked it up, and wore his Sunday best, making sure to tuck it in. The constant feel of fabric against his Mark was starting to get Carlos hard again.

However, as the priest went on to talk about the nature of sin and mankind, Carlos found himself listening more on his words and agreeing with most of what the man said.

“Sin in an innate part of our being. God created us all with sin within us. However, he gave us the capacity to overcome sin, and become truly among His Chosen.”

Yes, sin was part of who Carlos was. He remembered his mother had told him that once, when he was very young. However, Carlos could overcome it. His father had taught him that.

The question was how.

After the sermon ended, Carlos found himself mingling with the crowd of people outside. He felt a little lost, as everyone already seemed to know each other.

“Hey! Carlos Ramirez!” said a familiar voice.

Carlos followed the sound, and found a smiling Jude making his way towards him.

“Hey, Jude was it?” Carlos felt a the desire in his ass throb as Jude took his hand.

“You made it here! I’m so glad!”

“Yeah, I like going to church,” Carlos admitted.

“Oh? So what do you think?” said Jude, smirking.

“It’s not bad,” said Carlos truthfully, “Father Toff seems like a pretty nice guy.”

Jude smirked a little.

“I dunno,” said Jude, “I like Father Toff’s lectures a lot, but I just don’t know about ‘loving the sinner.’”

Carlos laughed at that. Yeah, he knew how to deal with these guys. Let them talk, and soon enough they’ll get to what they really mean.

“I mean, take gay people for example.”

There you go.

“Gay people aren’t sinners.”

...wait, what?

Jude saw that Carlos was confused at that. He shrugged.

“God made Men in his image, and some men are gay. God doesn’t make mistakes, so I guess that means that God is a little gay yeah? So that makes it fine if some dudes like dudes, you get me?” explained Jude.

Carlos nodded. He himself used that argument sometimes.

“But faggots aren’t like that. Faggots don’t have a fucking choice.”

“Wait, wait wait. Back up,” said Carlos, “Faggots?” said Carlos.

“Oh yeah, there’s a difference between faggots and Gays,” said Jude, “Gays are just guys who are attracted to other guys. Yeah, they like guys, but they can control themselves.”

Carlos nodded, a little confused.

“But faggots? Nah, they’re sinners through and through. They don’t fuck, they get fucked. They get fucked and like it.” said Jude, “Can you imagine getting fucked in the ass by some big, fat dick, and liking it?“

Up until recently, no, thought Carlos, and he shifted his stance, sending another pulse of desire up his ass. Jude’s general attractiveness and his description of cock was not helping Carlos’ predicament.

“Uh...nah, I guess,” Carlos managed to get out, but Jude wasn’t listening.

“See, if a gay guy fucks a faggot, he can repent. He can be forgiven. Being gay is his test from God, after all,” Jude went on, “But a faggot? They are the test. They’re born from Satan, to tempt Gays. How else would they like getting stuffed with cock?“

“Mmmmmhmmm.”

“Like can you imagine? Thinking with only your hole? Getting hard because of some guy’s cock? Wanting to stuff your greedy hole with big dicks like it’s some pussy? You’re not a man, you’re a fucking faggot, right?”

Carlos was finding it harder to concentrate as Jude’s language became more and more vulgar.

“But I dunno,” Jude suddenly backpedalled, “I mean, I’m not a priest, right?”

“I mean...I don’t think you are?”

Jude laughed.

“Nah I’m not. And if Father Toff thinks faggots and sinners can repent, maybe they can,” Jude shrugged, “Better to ask him I guess. Hey, Mickey!”

Jude waved at someone in the crowd.

“Hey, take my card, it has my number on it. Gimme a call if you wanna hang, okay?”

And with that, Jude left, leaving Carlos horny and confused. What was that? That was weird, wasn’t it? Jude suddenly talking about faggots and Gays like the difference was something universal. It wasn’t right? Then again, Carlos had lead a pretty sheltered life. He had occasionally looked at porn, but he had never masturbated. And even though Carlos had often dreamed about a husband and a domestic life, he had never actually looked up any gay help sites, or visited any gay forums. His knowledge of all this had been extremely limited, partially because his mother had forbidden him from looking those things up.

Was there a difference between a faggot and a Gay man? Carlos wasn’t so sure anymore, but he had a strange feeling in his stomach. Was he...was he becoming...

No. He couldn’t be. Could he? No. But if he was...

As such, Carlos found himself waiting in line for confession. Unfortunately, there was nothing to distract him as he waited, and thus began to squirm from the desire his birthmark sent to his ass. Carlos was last in line, and as the line got shorter, the people in the building slowly filtered out. In the end, as the person in front of him confessed their sins in the box in front of him, Carlos could not take it anymore. He leaned back onto the corner of the box his crack pressed at the edge, back arched as to not let his lower back touch anything. Carlos leaned his head back and raised a knee, rubbing his pants-covered crack against the corner of the booth. It granted some small relief, but mostly made his ass want more, more pressure! That spot was soooo deep, and it needed to be touched, felt, lo-

The confessional door opened, and Carlos immediately went inside. As soon as the door closed on him again, Carlos undid his belt, and untucked his shirt. The moment his birthmark felt the fresh air upon it, Carlos sighed with relief. His ass was still pulsing with desire, but it was more bearable now.

“Greetings, my child,” said the warm voice of Father Toff, causing Carlos to flinch. He had almost forgotten why he was here.

“G-Greetings, Father,” said Carlos.

“How long since your last confession?”

“A few weeks, Father,” answered Carlos. He held his shirt up as he spoke, exposing his flat midriff.

“Tell me, child,” said Father Toff.

Carlos gathered his thoughts. Where to begin?

“I-I have something to confess.”

Silence. Well of course he had something to confess. That was the point of this confessional booth, wasn’t it?

“I have...been having...some dreams lately,” said Carlos.

“What sort of dreams, my son?”

“Lustful dreams,” Carlos confessed, “...with other men.”

The priest stayed quiet for a moment.

“I see,” he finally said, “And this troubles you?”

“Yes, Father.”

“How so?”

“Well...that is a long story...”

So Carlos explained how he knew he had been gay before the dreams, but ever since his parents died, these dreams had been growing more and more frequent, and more and more lustful.However, he did not mention how he was suddenly developing a tendency to bottom.

The priest was quiet for a moment.

“It seems, my son, your lust is interfering with your daily life.”

“Not as of yet, Father. But if this continues...”

“Have you thought of giving in to your desires?” Father Toff asked.

For a moment, Carlos was shocked. Was Father Toff suggesting...?

No, Carlos admonished himself. Father Toff was simply asking a question.

“Yes, Father,” admitted Carlos, “But I have not.”

“Oh? Why not?”

Why not? Carlos frowned at the question.

“Because it’s a sin.”

“what is? Being gay? Were you not created gay?” questioned the Father.

“No, not being gay. Acting on gay desires...and thinking...gay thoughts...”

“Oh? Even the act of thinking gay thoughts is a sin?”

“Is it not?” Carlos began to seriously question the legitimacy of Father Toff’s priesthood.

“Hmmm, I see. You must have been raised in a very Christian household.”

Carlos relaxed a little, smiling.

“My father taught me right from wrong. He said that as long as I followed the path of God, I would always find myself in His care.”

“Your father was very wise,” said the priest, “You must miss him greatly.”

A pang of lonliness stabbed at Carlos’ heart.

“I believe that maybe your current situation has something to do with the passing of your father,” continued the priest.

Carlos frowned at that. This was starting to sound weirdly Freudian.

“What do you mean, Father?” said Carlos warily.

The priest chuckled. Perhaps Carlos had shown his wariness a little too readily.

“I understand your caution, my son,” he said, “What I have to say is quite different than what you might think. However, before that...I believe I have a temporary solution.”

“Oh?” A temporary solution?

“Something to keep your mind off your desires, so they do not consume your day,” explained Father Toff.

With that, there was the sound of movement, the crinckle of wrapping paper, and Carlos noticed a little slot open up between them, at around Carlos’ hip. Through it, Father Toff pushed something round, and wrapped in brightly coloured wrapper.

“It’s a popsicle,” said the priest.

A confused Carlos took it gingerly, holding up his shirt by pressing his arms down his sides, so it wouldn’t fall past his chest.

“Suck on it, and tell me what you think.”

This was certainly the strangest thing that had happened to him in a confessional booth, Carlos thought as he unwrapped the popsicle. But then again...given what had happened already today...things were alreadt quite weird.

The popsicle was thick, long—about 8 inches—and red. It reminded Carlos vaguely of a penis, although ever since this morning everything seemed to remind him of penises...cocks...dicks...

Shaking himself out of it, Carlos began to suck.

!!!

Oh, this was heavenly. Carlos felt bliss as he sucked on the popsicle, gingerly at first, then greedily as he realised how good it felt. The feeling in his ass was still there, but it lessened over time as Carlos sucked on the beautiful red popsicle.

“How is it? Is it helping?”

“Mmmmm! Yes, Father!”

Carlos could not get enough of the taste, nor the feeling of the popsicle in his mouth. It was cool and wet, yet also surprisingly soft? Carlos made care not to touch it with his teeth; he didn’t want to accidentally bite into it and lose flavour.

“Very good my son. Like I said, this is only a temporary solution. You cannot, after all, be sucking on a popsicle all day, although I’m sure you would love that.”

Father Toff was right. Carlos would love to suck popsicles all day.

“As I was saying before, I believe that these desires have something to do with your passing dad,” the Father continued to speak, and it was all Carlos could do to listen. He wanted to hear what the Father had to say, but the taste...the feel...it was so good...

“I believe that a lonliness has been created within you, and emptiness inside which opened when your dad passes away, am I wrong?” said the Father.

Carlos moaned in agreement. He was about halfway done with the popsicle, and his thoughts were beginning to fuzz a little from brainfreeze.

“Then what I imagine these dreams are is your gay body trying to fill the emptiness left behind by your dad. However, because of the nature of your body, it has tended you towards sin; something which you do not want. Am I correct?”

Carlos couldn’t disagree. Everything the Father had said up until now was technically true, so maybe his hypotheses were also correct? Mmmmm...Carlos didn’t want to think...he wanted to suck...

“What I am saying is that your spiritual and physical being are still being affected by the loss of your dad. You are out of balance. The solution, therefore, is to find that balance once again.”

Carlos found he agreed with the Father.

“One suggestion would be to fill up your time with something physical. Aerobics, or yoga, or dancing. Something different from your usual hobbies, in order to open your mind and increase your flexibility. That way, you can satisfy your physical self.”

Carlos moaned in assent. Yoga...aerobics...dancing...

“As for your spiritual side...I suggest masturbating while praying.”

Carlos frowned at that, sucking the popsicle. Wait...that didn’t-

“Masturbation is a sin, no?” Father Toff chuckled, “That is what you are thinking, is it not, my son?”

Carlos moaned in agreement. He was glad he didn’t have to stop sucking, although the popsicle was now almost finished. He was also a little glad he didn’t need to think so much anymore, now that the Father had said it for him.

“Masturbation is a sin, not because of it’s inherent desire, but because it wastes semen,” explained Father Toff, “The waste of semen, the bringer of life, is tantamount to infanticide.”

“However, you are gay, are you not? A faggot. Your semen will never fertilise and egg. You will never plant your seed, or see it grow. Your genetic code will never be passed on. Your semen is already a waste, and thus, masterbation is not a sin for those who have been created as you have.”

“Mmmm yes, Father,” Carlos moaned as he finished the popsicle. The pulsing in his ass had died down to a dull, faint buzz. His lips and throat however, were buzzing with numbness from the cold—as was his mind. Father Toff’s words felt like they were bouncing around in Carlos’ brainfrozen mind, digging into it until it felt like a natural thought.

“...will neber...pass...on...”

“Not to mention, it will help some with your physical being as well, no?”

“Y-yes, Father.”

Carlos shook the freeze from his mind, the words still embedding themselves into his psyche. Yes, the Father was right. Why hadn’t he thought that before? Since God made him gay, his semen was already a waste. It should be fine for him to masterbate.

“As long as I cum like a man, not like a fa-faggot.”

“Hm?”

Carlos frowned. Why had he tripped over the last word? He was gay, right? Not a fa- fag. Faggot.

Father Toff also seemed a bit surprised at this. After a while, he said:

“It’s important to keep an open mind, my son.”

And with that, confession was over.

The boi lifted his body with ease holding himslef perpendicular to the pole.

As usual, it was swealteringly hot, and so, the boi only wore light blue and red knee socks, as well as a blue, yellow, and red jockstrap. The boi liked this particular jockstrap, because while it nicely cupped and showed off his ass, it also had a hole for his cock to peek through when he got hard. And he was always hard.

That wasn’t the only change to the boi’s body. At some point, the boi realised he was losing bulk, and was becoming more slender and twinkish. He still had his muscles, but they were slim and taut, giving him an almost girlish frame. In fact, with the right clothes, people might’ve thought that the boi was actually a very muscular girl.

The boi carefully moved his body in time with the music, bringing his legs around the pole and spinning himself around. He then pushed out his ass, until he was basically touching his toes, parallell to the ground, showing off his twitching asshole to the men in the crowd. As they cheered and whistled, the boi moaned, growing harder. As he waved his ass to the crowd, he felt the Mark on his lower back heat up, as if it were soaking in the sexual energy of the room. As such, the boi’s hole twitched more violently, pangs of need and lust pulsing deep within him.

“You can make a lot of Men happy with a girly body like that,” said the Voice.

the boi couldn’t help but gasp as the words seemed to vibrate in the air, entering his mind. he continued to dance, shaking his hips and smiling coyly at the crowd, but his eyes were focused on the Man all the way in the back.

“You can make a lot of Men happy with that girly body, boi.”

The Voice seemed to now be coming from within the boi’s own head, as if the first thought spawned another within his mind. It shook him, such a powerful Thought, sending waves of static pleasure throughout his body. The crowd cheered as the boi hugged the pole, legs suddenly weak and wobbly, cock dripping with sweat and pre-cum.

“Don’t you want to make Men happy?”

the boi’s legs gave out underneath him; he sank to the floor, the pole riding up his crack, cock twitching like mad, body shivering with pleasure. The words in his head seemed familiar...like they were his own thoughts...

“Come.”

Carlos gasped as he woke up, humping the mattress, asshole twitching. He moaned as he rubbed his engorged member on the fabric, the cool air of the night faintly tickling his bare ass.

He slept naked now, facedown, without sheets, as to not irritate his ever-sensitive birthmark. In fact, it was becoming such a distraction that Carlos was having a hard time at school. It was so difficult, trying to keep a clear head while clothing rubbed against his birthmark. But if he always had a popsicle in his mouth, he wouldn’t be able to engage in class discussions. Carlos had not yet figured a way to solve this problem yet, but he had found a solution while he was at home; Carlos started to walk around the apartment in only his underwear, and sometimes even naked.

Carlos also began to notice some changes with the birthmark. Before, it had always been a dull brown colour. However, the more and more he looked at it in the many mirrors in his apartment, the more it seemed to be changing colour. For now, it looked like it was going to pink, possibly a light shade of red.

However, despite these trivial changes, and no matter what Carlos did about his birthmark, he did not seem to be able to get rid of the dreams.

But praying helped.

Carlos reached out for the cross on his nightstand. It was one of the bigger ones around the apartment, the main mast being about 10 inches long. Luckily, it’s cylandrical shape made it easier to grip.

He gripped the cross in his left hand, and turned over, making sure to arch his back to his birthmark wouldn’t touch the mattress. With his right hand, he began slowly pumping his already slick cock, and started to murmur:

“I pledge my Body to my Lord and Creator and pray he aid me for my sins. I pledge my Mind to my Lord and Creator and pray he aid me for my sins. I pledge my Soul to my Lord and Creator and pray he aid me for my sins...”

Carlos repeated the prayer Father Toff had taught him last week as he slowly built up a rhythnmn for his cock. Soon, he was rubbing himself and bucking his hips as he repeated the prayer like a mantra, barely stopping.

“I pledge my Body to my Lord and Creator and pray he aidmeformysins. IpledgemyMindtomyLordandCreatorandprayheaidmeformysins.IpledgemySoultomyLordandCreatorandprayheaidmeformysinsIpledgemyBodyto—”

His body was at a fever pitch now, his cock leaking pre like a fountain, his newly slimmed body slick with sweat. Dully, the ache in his ass began to grow, as Carlos couldn’t help but begin to whimper in his prayers.

“IpledgemyBodyohfucktomyLordandCreatorahh!ndprayheaiii!idmefoooh!mysinsIpledgemyMaaaii!ndtomyLordandCreatorandprayyyyy!heaidme—“

This was it, this was where it happened, where Carlos usually came. But this time, he couldn’t. Usually, at this point, Carlos let go of his cock and grabbed a lollipop from the stash he kept near his bed and began to suck. For some reason, the simple act of sucking something made Carlos cum. He simply couldn’t without it. In his more lucid moments, Carlos rationalised that this was probably why sucking on popsicles helped abate the pulsing desire in his ass; although, the priest had said that anything would work, not just popsicles. Hence the lollipops. However, he had sucked the last one praying last night, and hadn’t thought he would be so horny in the morning.

And now he couldn’t stop. Carlos could only keep jerking, keep moaning, keep praying as he went faster, and faster.

He needed it. He needed the release. He prayer harder and harder, his cock wet with pre, sheets damp with sweat. The cool night air heated, as the scent of sex permeated the room. The scnet drove Carlos even wilder, reminding him of his dreams, of the Man, of being the boi-

Suck

Immediately, Carlos plunged the bottom of the cross into his own, gaping mouth. It had been three weeks since that day with Father Toff in the booth, and Carlos had been sucking on popsicles and lollipops every day since. Carlos had found that the effectiveness of sucking seemed to diminish over time, however sucking deeply seemed to satisfy his lust for longer periods. As such, with daily practise, Carlos found that he could now take eight thick inches without gagging.

The cross, however, was actually a bit thicker than Carlos was used to, so it took some work and two hands to get the 8 inches up to the t cross. Nevertheless, he managed to get it all in, and began deepthroating the cross like one of his popsicles. His other hand then instinctively moved back down, but stopped at right nipple. Carlos had never played with his nipples, but ever prayer had them standing to attention as stiffly as his cock.

Carlos had never felt so tortued before. Tortured by pleasure. he could feel the realease building up in his balls, but that damn spot below his lower back, deep in his ass still yearned to be touched. At this point, the mantra Carlos was reciting was on a non-stop loop in his mind. As pleasure built in his balls and tension grew up his spine, Carlos instinctively began to pinch and play with his nipple, sending more shocks of pleasure to his ass. It was all so overwhelming, Carlos accidentally let his back fall onto the mattress.

“Hammmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmhhhhhhhhh!!”

Carlos’ squeal was muffeld by the cross in his mouth as waves of pleasure rocked his body, making him arch his back once more. He kept his thighs together, but he couldn’t help his lower legs from spreading out and toes from curling. The next few minutes Carlos’ mind was blank, save for the mantra on loop, as he came, shot after shot all over himself; the hot, white substance sprayig all over his chest, face, and the cross. Carlos momentarily lost consciousness as he came his brains out...almost literally.

When he came to, Carlos removed the cross from his mouth, and giggled stupidly.

“I plejj my Bodi tu mai Lordd an Creeaydur an praiy he aid me fo mai sinz. I plej...”

Carlos prayed himself back into a dreamless sleep.

That afternoon, Carlos felt guilty for what happened in the morning.

Masturbation was one thing, but fellating a cross...that was bad, right?

It had been a month since he had first come to to college, and Carlos felt that he was changing in slight ways. First, the masterbation, although, when Carlos thought about it, that was fine. Carlos now understood he needed to pray that way, because he way gay. Father Toff had explained it all so well to him over their confessional sessions.

What was more worrying was the dreams.

They hadn’t stopped, no matter how hard Carlos prayed. In fact, they only seemed to get hotter, and dirtier. A small part of Carlos was happy about this, since it made his prayers so much more...fun. But Carlos could not shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Would his dad be okay with this? Carlos wondered.

However, when Carlos brought this up during confession that day, Father Toff had shut him down.

“Did we not establish that the root of your problems is the hole left by your father?” he said.

“Yes, but—”

“Suck.”

Carlos resumed sucking on the popsicle.

“But nothing,” said Father Toff, “You cannot fill the hole in your soul with your dead daddy. You need to move forward, and find something new to fill it.”

Carlos found he could not argue with this logic, and when Father Toff asked if he had done anything new recently, Carlos reluctatnly admitted to fellating the cross.

After a moment of silence, Father Toff continued.

“This is a good step forward.”

Huh? What?

“I understand how you may feel what you have done was blasphemous, but let me assure you, it was anything but,” began the Father.

“You feel like what you did was blasphemous, because you took the symbol of God, and used it to perform a sexual act, no? However, your act was not purely sexual. Yes, it had sexual elements, but at it’s purest form, it was a prayer, no? Furthermore, you did this act in order to fill the hole in your soul left by your dead daddy. Basically, you were trying to fill your soul with God. How is that a bad thing?”

Once again, Carlos felt he could not argue with the Father’s logic. He giggled as he finished his popsicle, licking his lips. These confessionals were also getting hotter lately, Carlos thought dully. However, he just couldn’t seem to care. Carlos found that there were more and more things about like he couldn’t seem to care about, like classes, and like...thinking about stuff. Carlos just couldn’t seem to care about using his brain for more and more things. At one point, he realised that he could’ve washed all his clothing with a washing machine together instead of putting it in one by one. He had laughed at himself at the time, god, he was so stupid.

The fact of the matter was, Carlos was also finding it harder to think. There just seemed to be a permanent haze over Carlos’ mind, making his thoughts sluggish and dull. Lately, Carlos had also found himself staring dully as he cleaned, lost in the pink haze of thoughtlessness.

“You understand, my son?”

“Mmm? Yes, Father,” said Carlos, wiping away a drop of drool.

“Very well. A quick question before you leave, however. How goes your aerobics sessions?”

For the past month or so, Carlos had taken up aerobics. The reason? Carlos felt that he needed a routine to really get back into the swing of things, and Father Toff had suggested to do something out of his comfort zone, to open his mind. So, Carlos went to a daily aerobics class.

In the beginning, he had been quite out of shape, due to stopping his workout sessions after his parents had died. However, Carlos has steadily improved over the weeks, so much that his physique had already changed quite a bit. He had lost some of his bulk, and had become much slimmer over the past month. His juicy ass somehow managed to stay bubbly, but the rest of his build was becoming more taut and flexible, like a dancer. To use gay terms, he had moved from a hunk, to more of a twunk.

Furthermore, Carlos found that he was quite enjoying the atmosphere of an aerobics class, despite it being quite different from what he was used to. Since Carlos was the only boy in the class, the room held a mostly feminine energy, quite bubbly and perky. He found that it was a lot more liberating than he masculine, oppressive atmosphere of the gym where he used to work out, although there were times he missed it a little. But for the most part, Carlos found himself getting carried away by the femininity of the place. After a lesson, he would often join the girls at the juice bar and chat about cute boys and funny dates. Carlos found he didn’t mind the mindless chatter about boys and clothes; it was nice to put his feet up and relax once in a while. He didn’t even mind the nickname Alejandra—the class’ only genderqueer participant, and only other Latinx—had given him: Lindo Carlito, which translated roughly to “Cute Little Carlos.” It was funny after all; he was getting smaller.

In the back of his mind Carlos knew that before, the idea of getting smaller would be...bad...for some reason. But he didn’t know why. It was something to do with...something about becoming...becoming who he wanted...

“Hey! Carlito! You there?” a feminine voice called out.

Carlos snapped himself out of his reverie. What was he thinking about? Ah, it wasn’t important.

“What?”

The girl laughed, as did the others around her. There were five in total surrounding Carlos’ mat, as they had just ended an aerobics session. Carlos, as usual, had spaced out towards the end. He found that the classes usually made him space out about halfway through. Something about the music and movements seemed to fill his brain with fuzzy thoughts and make his body work on autopilot. Carlos didn’t mind though, he just called it a “workout haze” and moved on.

“God, you’re such a ditz Carlito,” she slapped him playfully on the shoulder.

“We were just complaining about this new time,” said one of the other girls. Everyone made noises of agreement. Their usual morning sessions had to be moved to the afternoon now, because the old instructor had left and the new one could only make this time.

Honestly, though, Carlos didn’t mind. In fact, he was secretly glad. He had been finding it harder to get up in the mornings lately, due to the increasing hotness of his dreams, and he subsequent increasing...intensity...of his prayer sessions.

“Yeah, but the good thing is, we finish the same time as the wrestling guys...”

“Urgh, no, I can’t stand smelly guys,”

“Yeah, but it’s nice to see them in those leotards...”

The girls and Carlos giggled as they headed to the changing rooms. Although the girls had said it was okay if Carlos used theirs, since he was gay, Carlos kept using the mens. His father had taught him that there were separate places, just for men and women, and these should not be ignored, not even if Carlos was gay.

As such, when they reached the rooms, Carlos headed over to the mens, promising to catch up with the girls after at the juice bar. However, as soon as Carlos stepped into the changing room, he could feel his plans changing.

At the previous time, Carlos had been alone in the changing rooms, with no other men stinking up the place. As such, he had no distractions from showering and getting out. But now...

The first thing that hit Carlos was the smell. The stench of men and sweat hit Carlos’ brain like a truck into a wall, halting him dead in his tracks. Did men always smell this good? Carlos wondered absently as his mouth began watering.

No, he needed to wash up, he needed to...needed to...leave...

Carlos made his way to his locker, instinctively swaying his hips as he walked. The guys noticed, and looked his way. Some sneered at him , while others seemed to check him out Carlos realised this was because of the way he was dressed.

In order to minimise the amount of fabric against his birthmark, Carlos had started to wear loose and baggy shirts. However, when working out in aerobics, there were still times when the fabric would brush against him. Therefore, Carlos had taken to tying his shirts with a knot in the front to keep it from falling down. This, of course, exposed his flat midriff, as well as the birthmark on his lower back. The girls when they had first seen it thought it had been a tramp stamp, which Carlos had laughed off, although, when he looked at it in the mirror again later that night, he did see where they were coming from. The birthmark had gone from a pinkish colour, to a more vibrant, unnatural red, which really did make it seem like Carlos had a tramp stamp of a heart with bat wings and horns.

And now, in a room full of hot, sweaty men, Carlos became very aware that he was wearing basically a tie-front crop top and gym shorts, with a birthmark that looked like a tramp stamp.

For some reason, Carlos was starting to get hard.

“Hey, Carlos, right? Carlos Ramirez?”

Carlos almost jumped out of his skin as he felt the hand on his shoulder. He turned to find Jude, standing there, naked but for a towel.

Carlos’ mouth went dry as he immediately took in Jude’s muscled physique. He was almost as buff as Carlos had been before, and with a much more defined sixpack. Carlos’ eyes lingered on his wide shoulders, them moved down to notice Jude’s suggestive Adonis Belt.

“Oh, you probably don’t remember me,” continued Jude, “I’m Jude? From Church.”

“Oh. Oh! Yeah! Jude! From Church!” Carlos giggled.

Jude frowned a little as Carlos mentally kicked himself. A giggle? Why was he giggling? God, it was so hard to think...

“Sorry, I um—” began Carlos, “I just had a lesson, and I’m like, totally wiped, y’know?”

Carlos noticed that his voice was higher than usual, and he was still talking like one of the girls. It was so hard to think! If he could just clear his head for second...get rid of the smell...that sweet...sweaty...

“Ah, I getcha,” said Jude, sitting back down, “I’m just getting ready for a shower myself, y’know?”

Carlos’s jaw dropped as Jude casually undid his towl, to reveal a semi. Oh my god, was that...but no he couldn’t...he was...

“Working out just gets me all...y’know?” grunted Jude as he started to rub himself.

“Um...like...are you gonna...here?” Carlos couldn’t take his eyes off Jude’s steadily growing member. The smell of men was getting to him, filling his head, pushing everything else out.

“Huh?” said Jude, “Yeah. It’s fine. We’re all guys here. Right guys?!”

Everyone else grunted in unison, going on with their things as if nothing was wrong. A large, bear of a man on the other side of the room even picked up a sock and and began stroking his own growing member with it.

“But...masterbation...”

“Oh? I’m gay,” said Jude nonchalantly, “So it’s fine, y’know?”

Jude? Gay?

Carlos’s birthmark seemed to burn for a moment as Carlos felt his asshole twitch. His own growing cock was starting to tent too. Jude noticed.

“Dude, you getting turned on?” said Jude, pausing and looking up, “You gay too?”

Carlos instinctively pressed his legs together and arched his back, embarrassed, biting his lip. He nodded.

“Fuck man! Then help me out here!” Jude grinned as he let go of his cock and leaned back, allowing the full 8 inches to bounce up. It too every bit of willpower for Carlos to look away from the bouncing, juicy cock.

“Help you...out?” Carlos’ voice was almost inaudible, but Jude seemed to know what he was saying.

“Yeah, just a handjob is fine, but if you want you can blow it. I’ll do the same for you after.”

Blow...blow Jude’s cock? With his mouth? Carlos could hardly wrap his mind around it. Except, it was so hard to think with the scent of sweaty men in the air. In fact, thinking made Carlos’ head hurt.

“What, you never done this before?” said Jude, his voice ringing in Carlos’s head, “It’s just two gay guys masterbating each other.”

Two gay guys...masterbating...two gay...each other...

Jude’s words swirled around Carlos’ head along with the stench of sweat. Wasn’t this fine? Since they were gay, and their semen was useless, this was fine to masterbate, right? Carlos knelt down before Jude, the huge, white cock almost poking him in his face. The scent was extraordinary, musky and sweaty, masculine. It made Carlos’s asshole and cock twitch with desire. The desire to reach out and touch it, lick it, was overpowering...

But his father...his father...would he want this? Would he be proud of him for this? For taking such a huge...magnificent cock...

Without thinking, Carlos found himself reaching out and stroking Jude’s cock. He closed his eyes, mouth watering as he felt it throb under his hand. It was so different, holding another man’s cock in his hand, like he was holding a live animal.

“Fuck...yeah...” Jude moaned, “Yeah...that’s it.”

Carlos could not keep his eyes off the cock as he stroked it, conflicted. His father...

But then again, Father Toff had said that his dead daddy was holding him back...keeping him from filling his hole...

And Father Toff did say to try new things...keep and open mind...one sniff would be alright, right? One nice sniff of a man’s cock...Carlos leaned in a took in a deep breath of musky, cock-tainted air.

All of a sudden, Carlos remembered his mother’s words.

Always take the initiative to bring the light to another’s world

Carlos remembered asking his mother after how he was supposed to bring light to someone’s world. She had smiled sweetly before answering:

“Take care of their desires. If they want something, give it to them. After all, this is just the mortal plane. Everything you have here is free to give.”

Jude wanted a blowjob, right?

“Don’t you want to make Men happy?”

The rest of Carlos’ doubts were crushed under the scent of Jude’s manhood as Carlos began licking the impressive white rod. It tasted sweet, and a little bitter; the taste of sweat and hard work. Carlos couldn’t help but drool all over Jude’s cock.

“Oh, fuck that’s good...” Jude moaned, “You’re a fucking cocksucker aren’t you?”

You’re a cocksucker...cocksucker...

Carlos couldn’t bring himself to disagree, as he took Jude’s cock and started sucking on the head. He used his tongue to swill around the slit, savouring the salty precum, before taking Jude’s impressive member deeper into his throat. A few moments later, all nine inches were buried in Carlos’ mouth.

“Fuck! Oh fuck not even faggots can take my whole dick like this! Fuck...yeah, that’s good, suck on it, like that...”

Jude started thrusting in and out of Carlos’ throat, almost making him gag. Jude kept a hand on Carlos’ head, pushing down to make sure he kept his thick member inside his throat.

“Fuck yeah, like that, fuck yes, fuck—”

As Jude began swearing and thrusting more, Carlos felt himself getting harder. The feeling of the thick, pulsing, hot, juicy meat sliding down his throat, making his eyes water...the scent of sweat and balls filling his nose...Jude’s manly grunts and moans...it all made Carlos so fucking hard. His asshole twitched as he pushed his ass out instinctively, grinding his hips against the floor. With one hand, Carlos reache up under his shirt, and began playing with a nipple. As he did, he looked up at Jude.

Jude. With his wide shoulders and muscular frame. Jude. With his cocky smile and laid-back attitude. Jude. With his sharp jawline, slight five o’clock shadow, piercing blue eyes and brow knotted into a grimace of pleasure...He was so fucking manly. So fucking sexy. Carlos could feel the pressure build up in his balls.

Jude noticed Carlos looking up at him, and immediately grabbed his face.

“That’s fucking hot,” he grunted, before thrusting into Carlos’ throat faster and faster, never breaking eye contact as he skull-fucked the boi.

Suck

Carlos had to suck.

That’s fucking hot

This was so fucking hot.

You can make a lot of Men happy with that body, boi

With a grunt, Jude came in Carlos’ mouth.

The sudden taste of salty, manly cum in Carlos hit Carlos’ sensed like a truck. The overpowering manly scent, the sweet saltiness of semen-

“MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!”

Carlos moaned on Jude’s cumming cock as his body seized up, back arching, asshole tightening, and cock cumming. Wave after wave of pleasure rocked Carlos’ cumming body, seizing him up. The sensations were too much, so much, that Carlos lost conciousness for a moment.

When he came to, Jude was panting above him, his cock softening in front of Carlos. Carlos’ head was still between Jude’s legs, and Jude didn’t seem to have notice Carlos pass out.

“Damn,” said Jude, “You are a fucking cocksucker.”

Jude grinned that cheeky grin of his, making Carlos’ heart skip a beat. He suddenly remembered that there were people around. Most of them milled about as if this was completely normal. Some had clearly just finished jacking off to the scene. For some reason, Carlos found that this made him feel...sexy.

But then, the mood shifted, as Jude noticed something.

“What’s that?” said Jude accusingly, looking at Carlos’ ass. Carlos turned, and realised with horror that Jude was talking about his birthmark.

His hot red, heart-with-bat-wings-and-horns birthmark. On his lower back.

“Th-that’s—” Carlos stammered as he hastily got up, “That’s a birthmark.”

Jude raised an eyebrow skeptically.

“A birthmark,” he stated.

Carlos nodded furiously.

For the first time, Jude seemed to look at what Carlos was wearing. He seemed to be looking at Carlos in a completely new light. His expression twisted into something Carlos had never seen on anyone directed at him before. It was an expression of utter and complete disgust.

And lust.

Carlos bit his lip as Jude stood up, and walked up to Carlos.

“Carlos,” he said, voice even, “Why are you dressed like a slut?”

“I’m- I’m not,” Carlos mumbled back.

Jude was right up in Carlos’ face now, close enough that Carlos could count his eyelashes. Close enough to smell again...

“Oh? You sayign sluts don’t wear clothes like this?”

Jude leaned forward, making Carlos move backwards. This kept going until Jude had Carlos up against the call. Carlos immediatly arched his back against it, holding up a knee and biting his lip.

“Hm? I asked you a question, faggot.”

“I’m not a faggot!”

Carlos’ answer was so quick, it surprised even him. Jude blinked in confusion as Carlos tried to gather himself up.

“I’m not- I’m just,” Carlos stammered, “I don’t know what- I’m not—”

Jude just stared as Carlos fumbled for a bit, his expression slowly morphing into a grin.

“Aaaah,” said Jude, interrupting Carlos’ stammering. Carlos only then noticed the light in Jude’s eyes had changed.

It now held a wicked gleam, matched by an evil smile.

“I get it baby,” the change in attitude was as infectious as it was sudden. Carlos was confused, but he also coulnd’t help but feel a little...turned on...

“You’re not a faggot are you, baby? You’re just a gay man, right?” Jude was suddenly all smiles and sweetness. Carlos’ heart couldn’t help but skip a beat.

Carlos nodded vigorously.

“You’re a good, godly gay, aren’t you? A gay that helps people with whatever they need?”

Yes. Carlos was definitely godly. He definitely helped people. He just wanted to make people happy! Carlos smiled. Yes. It was good that Jude thought Carlos was good. It made Carlos very happy.

“Then how about you come help me shower, huh?”

“Ummm...okay!” What a good idea. Carlos could help Jude shower, right? It wasn’t sinful to shower with another man, right? Besides, they were both gay, so it was fine.

Right?

Carlos felt Jude’s (and several other people’s) eyes on him as he undressed. He was slightly ashamed to reveal his sticky underwear.

“Damn, you came from just sucking me off?” for a moment, there was a flash of disgust across Jude’s face, but it was quickly replaced with another boyish smile as he leaned in.

“That’s pretty rare for a gay guy. It kinda turns me on,” he growled into Carlos’ ear. Carlos’ face burned with embarrassment, as well as pride. The idea that Jude was turned on...by him...it made his cock twitch.

Just then, Jude slid his arm around Carlos’ waist.

“Ah!” Carlos gasped as Jude’s arm made contact with his birthmark.

Jude looked at Carlos quizzically.

“I-It’s my birthmark,” explained Carlos, embarrassed, “It’s sensitive.”

“Oh?” said Jude, looking at it again. Without warning, he slapped it.

“Ah!”

Carlos’ cock stiffened immediately, drawing a grin from Jude.

“That is one, sexy body you have there, baby,” he said, eyeing Carlos’ now-hard cock. If Carlos could blush, he would. Everyone was staring, and it was clear that they were aroused.

He sucked off Jude again in the shower.

“...however, for she was a woman, and weak in her will, the wife of Lot looked back upon the city...”

Father Toff droned on and on as usual, as his congregants listened, rapt with attention. Unlike at the beginning of the year, the church was not nearly as full, with only the first few rows being filled, before tapering off in the back rows. Carlos and Jude, however, were still in attendance, like the good, godly men that they were; with a few small differences.

For one, they both sat at the back of the church, where no one else would notice them. For another, Carlos lookes a lot slimmer, his body lithe like an effeminate dancer. His clothes were also a lot more...revealing; he wore a sexy, green, tie-front crop top which showed off his flat stomach and vibrant red birthmark, and black bootyshorts that barely seemed to cover his ass, and strained to hold back Carlos’ hard member. All of this was accented with black, plastic rimmed, rounded square sunglasses atop Carlos’s head, which would’ve covered half his face if he wore them normally. If the current Carlos was seem from behind, many might think he was a sexy girl.

“That’s good, baby,” whispered Jude to his boyfriend, casually caressing the birthmark on Carlos’ back.

Carlos bit his lip to keep himself from moaning, and stroked Jude’s cock faster. His eyes stayed on Father Toff as he jerked his boyfriend off, so as not to draw attention to themselves. They were in the back row alone, sitting next to eacch other, Carlos jerking Jude off. Halfway through the sermon, Jude had wrapped his arm around Carlos’ waist, and unzipped his fly. “Get me off,” he had whispered, and then began rubbing Carlos’ “Slut Mark.” That was what Jude called Carlos’ birthmark.

“It’s a mark that makes you look and act like a slut, baby,” Jude had explained, “So it’s a fucking Slut Mark.”

Carlos had been against calling it that at first, but as usual, he was protesting to it less as of late.

It was just...so hard to disagree with Jude sometimes! He was just so cute, and so well-meaning, Carlos couldn’t help but let it slide. But only this one time.

Although...Carlos had been saying that for quite a lot of things lately.

Ever since that time two weeks ago, when Jude followed him back home from the gym, Carlos’ life had been changing more and more obviously. After cumming in the showers once more, Carlos had been weak and giggly from all the manliness around and inside him. Jude, being the gallant gentleman he was, helped Carlos back home, then stayed the night, making sure he was okay. That night, when Carlos awoke from yet another dream, Jude had helped him pray by giving Carlos his cock to suck on, and slapping his ass after every line of the mantra. Carlos could tell this was very effective.

And from there...Jude never really left. Not that Carlos minded. Jude was so helpful! He suggested that Carlos just start wearing more crop tops to help with his Slut Mark’s sensitivity, and after a couple days of trying it out, Carlos found it really liberating. It was so nice to have his Slut Mark out in the open, uncovered by his clothes, feeling the fresh air against his bright red Mark and flat stomach. Jude had also suggested that Carlos start wearing bootyshorts everywhere. When Carlos asked why, Jude had simply rubbed Carlos’ Slut Mark, and said, no growled, that he liked men in bootyshorts. Whenever Jude got all cute and growly like that, Carlos had a hard time disagreeing with him.

But Jude always backed up his demands with facts and knowledge. Jude also explained that gay couples had a hard time being godly, because god had created women to sate men’s needs. Therefore, for a gay couple to work out, there needed to be one man who was more effeminite and weaker, so they didn’t become ungodly.

Carlos had been a little confused at that.

“Are you saying we’re a couple?” he had asked.

Jude grinned, making Carlos’ heart skip a beat.

After sucking him off twice that night, Carlos had to concede that they were a couple.

As the days went on and Jude stayed around, giving more suggestions, Carlos found that he was starting to appreciate Jude’s clarity of thought more. It was so nice to have a man around who could take charge, especially since Carlos’ head seemed to get fuzzier and fuzzier as the days passed. With Jude at the house now, the scent of Man was just stronger, not that Carlos noticed. All he noticed was that he was getting spacier lately, and thinking was harder...like his dick. Jude had suggested Carlos stop going to school, just until he felt better, and Carlos had thought that was a great idea. Now, Carlos spent all his time cooking, cleaning, and paying Jude back for being so wonderful to him. He started making little concessions for Jude, doing things that he normally wouldn’t do, for him. Like when Jude told him to wear only jockstraps, or when Jude told him to get laser hair removal for anything below his neck, or when Jude told him to start going to a poledancing class instread of aerobics.

However, there was one concession Carlos couldn’t make for Jude. No matter how much Jude growled, ordered, and rubbed Carlos’ Slut Mark, Carlos would not let Jude fuck him in the ass.

“Only faggots get fucked in the ass,” said Carlos. They had been lying on the sofa, Carlos the little spoon, watching a movie when Jude asked.

“No, only faggots like getting fucked in the ass,” corrected Jude, rubbing his covered dick against Carlos’ crack Slut Mark. Of course, Carlos was only wearing his newly bought MASSIVE Flash City Arch Jock.

“Unh!” Carlos couldn’t help but let out a small moan as he felt his asshole twitch.

“You saying you’ll like it? That you’re a faggot?” taunted Jude.

“N-noo...” Carlos’ reply was weak with desire. He didn’t really like it when Jude played with his Slut Mark, because it made that part deep inside Carlos’ ass throb with want. However, Carlos trusted Jude not to betray him like that, which surprised him. Carlos never thought he could feel like this for another person; like he could trust them with his soul. It made him feel very small, and weak, and yet...

“C’mon baby,” Jude crooned in Carlos’ ear, “You wanna make me feel good?”

Carlos bit his lip. He did want to made Jude feel good...

And Carlos loved the way Jude made him feel when they were together. The way Jude wrapped his arm around his waist, rubbing against his Slut Mark, made Carlos feel owned and protected. The way Jude’s eyes would hungrily devour Carlos whenever he looked at him made Carlos feel sexy, wanted. The feeling of Jude’s hand on his head, forcing him down on his cock make Carlos feel safe, guided. Jude was just so...masculine...protective...

“Gimme some of that ass—”

“No!!”

Jude had started to push up against Carlos’ asshole, and Carlos immediately turned and slapped his boyfriend. Then, before realising what he had done, he got up and left in a huff.

A few hours later, Jude came crawling back and apologised, by letting Carlos suck him all night long. Carlos was happy that he had such a caring boyfriend, even if he was such a dummy sometimes.

But ever since then, Jude had been slowly pressuring Carlos more and more about anal, saying that he needed it, as a Man. Jude even said that if he wasn’t going to get it from Carlos, he might have to get it from some faggot slut on the street. Carlos panicked a bit at that; he didn’t want to share Jude with anyone, especially not some godless, heathen, faggot slut. But he knew that if he didn’t do something soon, then Jude’s beautiful, manly cock might find itself in some loose, faggot pussy. After all, a man had needs. And usually, women attended to those needs.

But Carlos wasn’t a woman. He was a gay man.

Being a gay man wasn’t a sin, but for a man to be fucked like a woman...that was simply unnatural, no?

After Carlos jacked his boyfriend off to completion (squirming in his seat as Jude played with his Mark), and the sermon ended, Carlos headed for the confessional booth. As usual, he was last in line. Jude had left already, saying that he was going to the gym. Carlos only hoped that he wasn’t going to find some faggot’s ass to pump into, and waited impatiently for his turn in the booth.

Carlos jumped inside the booth as soon as the last person left, and slammed the door shut.

“Welcome, my son.”

“Yes, Fath- Daddy Toff.”

“Please my son. We can be less formal,” chuckled the priest.

“Okay, Daddy Topholes,” Carlos smiled. He loved going to confession exactly because Daddy Topholes was so nice to him. Carlos felt that he could tell Daddy anything, which was why he came to him for advice.

Carlos explained to Daddy his problem, how Jude wanted to fuck him in the ass, and how Carlos was uncomfortable with that because only faggots got fucked up the ass.

“No, only faggots like getting fucked up the ass,” corrected Daddy Topholes, “Do you like you will like getting fucked up the ass.“

Carlos squirmed uncomfortably for a moment. The truth was...

“Daddy...inside my ass, there’s this...this...burning feeling. Always. Ever since I lost my parents, it’s been there, slowly getting hotter and hotter, Daddy. I can feel it every time I move, every time I walk, ever time I sit. Every now and then it throbs and pulses, and I know I want someone, somthing to touch it, to feel it, Daddy. It’s like a constant itch, Daddy, except it’s more like an emptiness. It’s like...a black hole, wanting to pull everything in, filling...filling itself...up...”

As Carlos spoke, he could feel himself getting hard, and his hole throbbing like he described. He pressed his thighs together, grabbing the edge of the seat, moaning, back arching. The Slut Mark seemed to flash with heat for a moment.

“Mmmhmmm. Suck.”

Carlos immediately got on his knees. The little slot opened, to reveal a large, black cock throbbing in Carlos’s face. Immediately, Carlos took it in his mouth, and moaned, relieved.

Ever since Carlos got a boyfriend in Jude, Daddy Topholes had given him his Holy Cock instead of popsicles. The reason was because Carlos was getting close to faggotry; as long as Carlos didn’t cross the line, he would be fine, but Daddy Topholes thought that Carlos should at least be purified by Holy Semen at least once a week, just to be safe. Carlos didn’t mind; Daddy Topholes said that this wasn’t cheating this was praying. He also ordered Carlos not to tell Jude, because there was no need for him to know how Carlos prayed.

“Now, there is a way to solve your problem, however first, you must understand some nuances of you role as the “female” in the gay relationship. It is a given that in this world, the powerful, and therefore Men take what they want. However, since both partners in a gay relationship are male, both cannot take without giving. Therefore, your role as the “female” means you must give all you can, in order to keep the natural order of your Man partner in check. However, it does not change that you are a man, no? You must also take from your partner something, no?” said the Father.

Carlos moaned, a little absentmindedly.

“What you take from the relationship, is his weakness. His doubts, his fears, his subservience; these are what you take from him, and make your own.”

As Carlos easily deepthroated Daddy Topholes’ thick 9 inches, he felt the familiar sensation of his thoughts slowing to a mush. Carlos’ eyes became unfocused, and his movements mechanical. The big, black, dick seemed to push every thought out of Carlos’ head, leaving only cock, cock, and Daddy Topholes’ words. Carlos drooled on the throbbing, hot member, moaning as pleasure built within Carlos’ body. Instinctively, he played with his nipples as he deepthroated, never once touching his own, stiff rod. Carlos’ dick was still an impressive 7 inches hard, same as ever, even if the rest of his body had slimmed down.

“...that is the first step.”

Daddy Topholes came, and Carlos swallowed while continuing his rythmn. Carlos never came from deepthroating Daddy Topholes. Sucking Daddy Topholes only made Carlos hornier and hornier, until he was an unintelligible puddle of desire. Once Carlos was in such a state after a confession, Daddy Tohpoles had to drive Carlos home, where Jude had been waiting, horny. As soon as Jude slapped Carlos’ face with his cock, Carlos had cum hard in his pants, leading to Carlos apologising by wearing only thongs for the next couple of days.

An hour later, Daddy Topholes pulled out his phone.

“Jude? Come, your boyfriend needs you.”

Carlos giggled, hanging onto his boyfriend’s arm, swaying as he walked.

“You smell sexyyy,” he giggled again, looking up at his boyfriend.

Jude sighed as he recalled what Father Toff had told him. Apparently, after confession, Carlos had stayed in the booth, masterbating to the thought of Jude. When Father Toff came back and found him, he was already in this gooned up state.

Well, Jude thought, at least I can get something out of this.

“Juuude I wanna cuuumm,” complained Carlos. Jude grinned as they reached their apartment.

“Alright baby, alright,” said Jude, “Let’s get inside and let Jude take care of you, okay?”

“Mmmmm,” said Carlos.

Jude loved seeing Carlos in this state. It made him so hard to see the manly Carlos, the Carlos from the first days of college, reduced to this. Usually, it took Jude an entire afternoon of teasing and playing to get the prudish Carlos to become like this. Of course, lately it had been a bit easier, but still. It took a lot of work. Jude could only thank the priest for making his job easier now.

He also thanked the priest for giving him a way to finally get some of Carlos’ sweet, sweet ass.

As soon as they got into the room, Carlos fell to his knees, giggling. He started to undo Jude’s pants.

“No, wait,” said Jude gently, pushing Carlos away.

“Juuuuuuude!” whinged Carlos, “I want Juuude Dick!”

“You’ll get it,” said Jude gently, “but first, go get the Praying Cross.”

Carlos pouted, a little, making Jude’s dick somehow even harder.

“Fiiine.”

Jude couldn’t help but watch as Carlos got up and walked away from his, swaying his hips sexily as he went off. He loved watching that fucking Slut Mark wave from side to side as Carlos’ bubble butt bounced away from him.

As soon as Carlos was in the bedroom, Jude took off his clothes, and went to the bathroom. He grabbed the lube he had stashed, and came back to find Carlos holding the cross upside down and sucking on it.

“No, no no no no no,” said Jude gently, pushing Carlos’ hands down. Sucking made Carlos’ mind clearer, and Jude wanted him to be nice and suggestible for what was to come. He grabbed Carlos by the chin, and kissed him hard. Carlos instantly melted against Jude, pulling in close and kissing him back. Jude easily too the Dildo Cross from his loose hands.

What a slut, Jude thought disdainfully, breaking away from the kiss.

“Stand against the kitchen counter, and bend over,” ordered Jude.

“Mmmm...oki...”

Carlos was so far gone, he was like putty in Jude’s hands. Jude turned over the Dildo Cross, holding it by the top end of it, like a sword. He called this cross the Dildo Cross, because this fucking slut prayed with it by deepthroating it, like his God was dick.

As Carlos bent over sexily, pushing out that ass like the slut he was, Jude briefly wondered how the manly Carlos he had met on the first day of semester had turned into this whore in just a month and a half.

When Jude met Carlos for the first time, he had liked him. He thought he was a good man, who knew the difference between right and wrong, black from white, good from evil. He had been pleasantly surprised when he had ran into Carlos at church, and found he was truly godly along all of that. Jude had hoped they could become friends, maybe even suck-buddies, although Jude had suspicions that Carlos was actually straight. He had been disappointed when Carlos hadn’t called, and had therefore been pleasantly surprised when they met at the locker rooms two weeks ago.

However, as soon as Jude saw that Mark, and how Carlos reacted, Jude knew that Carlos was no godly man. No, he wasn’t even a man.

In that locker room, Jude realised that Carlos was a homo faggot, through and through.

What surprised Jude, however, was how much Carlos seemed to be fighting it. These days, most faggots didn’t even hide it, getting fucked and bragging about it like it was something to be proud of. Jude couldn’t stand faggots like that, they had to go around shoving their identities in everyone’s faces. This was because Jude had a particular thing for “flipping” guys. That is to say, Jude loved the idea that his cock could turn a good, Christian man into a faggot. However, he knew that was not how sexuality, or even reality worked. Therefore, his next best shot was to make a faggot who didn’t know he was a faggot, realise that they were one.

Jude thanked God that they had made his fantasy a reality.

Jude walked up to Carlos’ jiggling ass, and pulled down the bootyshorts covering them, down to his ankles, revealing an Andrew Christian Electric Pink Stripe Jockstrap. Jude gently stroked Carlos’s Slut Mark, making his hole twitch and the faggot moan.

“Ooooh, Juuuude...”

Dick harder than ever, Jude leaned over the bowing Carlos, wrapping an arm arounf Carlos’ stomach, leaned in close to his ear, and pressed a lubed up finger to his hole.

“Ah! No!”

Immediately, Carlos tensed up, but Jude simply held Carlos’ body harder.

“Shhhhh, it’s okay,” said Jude, “I’m just purifying your hole.”

Carlos was confused, as Jude continued to work his finger into the slut’s tight hole.

“P-purify? My...hole?” murmured Carlos.

“That’s right,” growled Jude, “Like the Father said, remember?”

“Mmmm...?”

Carlos frowned, trying to think with his mushy, pink brain, but as Jude lubed him up some more, Carlos just moaned.

“Fa...Daddy...Daddy Tooooohhhhh!!!!!”

Carlos didn’t finish his thought as Jude jammed his finger up Carlos’ aching hole. Carlos’ legs instantly locked up as he had a small orgasm.

Jude didn’t think it was possible, but somehow, this bitch managed to get him even harder.

“Yeah, that’s right, call me Daddy,” ordered Jude, “Call me Daddy you slut!”

Carlos was still recovering from the orgasm produced by a finger in his ass, when Jude was already working him up again.

“D-Daddy...Daddy Jude?” Carlos moaned, unsure of what was happening.

“Yeah, baby,” growled Jude, working another finger into Carlos’ hungry asshole, “Daddy Jude is gonna purify your hole and fill it with his seed!”

Daddy Jude...Daddy Jude...Daddy Jude...

Carlos was so confused. Ever since confession, Carlos’ brain had turned to mush, unable to process what was going on anymore. He remembered Daddy Topholes telling him he needed to give himself to Jude...he needed to take Jude’s weakness...by giving Jude what he wanted...to make Jude happy...everything in this world, he should give up...to make Men happy...

Carlos wanted to make Jude happy. Even though he wanted to suck Jude so he could clear his brain, he had done what he was told instead, trusting Jude to take care of him. After all, he was playing the “female” role...he was weak...and needed to be taken care of...

But he was Daddy Jude now? Jude was religious, but was he a priest? Carlos couldn’t seem to remember. It was so hard to concentrate when Daddy Jude was playing with his hole so goood...

Hole...Carlos had a hole he needed to fill..left by his dead daddy, no?

Daddy Jude is gonna purify your hole and fill it with his seed!

Didn’t Daddy Topheles also say that Carlos needed to move on from his dead old daddy, and find a new one to fill the hole left behind?

Daddy Topholes did say that he needed to play his role...and to make Jude happy...and to let him fuck him...but first he needed to purify Carlos’ hole so it wasn’t a sin.

“I ask my Lord to bless my Hole, may it be used how He sees fit,” Carlos began to chant, the words flowing through him. Jude immediately noticed, grinning. This was what Father Toff told him to look out for.

Jude lubed up the Dildo Cross, and started pushing it into Carlos’ hole.

“With this Symbol of the Holy God, I sanctify this Hole for Men to use,” chanted Jude, “With the Light of the Fire he rules, I sanctify this Hole for Men to use.”

As Jude pushed the cross in deeper and deeper into the hole, he could feel the slut’s body begin to shudder.

“I ask m-my Lord t-to bless my H-Hole—”

Fuck the faggot was even starting to stammer. Jude could feel the heat of this bitch’s body rise the further in he pushed the cross. Jude could not deny it anymore; Carlos Ramirez was a fucking slut of a faggot.

“...May it be used h-h-how H-He sees fit!”

Carlos was on his toes as the final inch of the 8 inch cross buried itself into his ass. Jude let it stay there a little, getting Carlos accustomed to it, before-

“With this Symbol of the Holy God—”

-Jude pulled back half the rod immediately-

“—I sanctify this Hole for Men to use!”

-and thrust it all back in!

“AAAaaaaaah! I! Ask...my Lord!”

Somehow, Carlos kept chanting, even as Jude repeatedly thrust in the cross, faster and harder. With each successive thrust, Carlos’ grip on the table tightened, and he found himself being thrust onto his toes. His asshole loosened with each repeated thrust, making it easier and smoother to fuck him with the cross.

It was heavenly! Finally, something was going in, reaching towards that spot inside Carlos’ ass! Every thrust seemed to reach closer, closer, pressuring it slightly, finally relieving it! If Carlos weren’t chanting the mantra, he would’ve been moaning, groaning, whimpering with ecstasy! His knees turned inward as he pushed his ass out further, trying to get as much of the Holy Cross into his ass as he could.

“May! It! Be! Used! How! He! Sees! Fit!”

Carlos was shouting the words now, his voice higher and shriller for some reason. His cock flopped up and down, harder than rock, balls churning with cum. Corlos could feel the orgasm building up in his balls, at the base of his spine, the tension churning, building.

“I! Ask! My! Lord!”

He looked like such a slut.

“To! Bless! My! Hole!”

Such a fucking faggot.

“May! I! Be! Used!”

There it was. The truth. The moment Jude was waiting for.

“As! He! Sees! Fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit!”

Carlos came, dick twitching, spraying white, hot cum all over his arms, his crop top, and the edge of the kitchen counter. His mind went completely blank, eyes rolling to the back of his head, mouth opened stupibly in an ‘O’ shape. His body shuddered for a couple of moments, before relaxing as Carlos came to.

“Ah! Hah...hah...”

Carlos panted, his mind seemed to clear up a little. Daddy Jude...wait...no...

Suddenly, Carlos felt something slip out his hole, leaving just emptiness.

“Nooooooo~!”

Carlos moaned as the sensation of lonliness in his stomach returned. Oh, fuck he felt so empty!

But before he could even properly feel that, something grabbed Carlos by the stomach, flipped him over, and slammed him on top of the kitchen counter. Still confused, Carlos felt something take off the bootyshorts that had been around his ankles, and spread his legs wide.

Holding Carlos’ feet apart and grinning madly, Jude looked down at his boyfriend, and slid his lubed up cock inside him.

“Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah~!”

Carlos was not ready for the sensation of warm, juicy meat sliding into his ass. It was completely different from the cross; this felt hot, alive, throbbing inside him.

“Ready to make Daddy happy?” Jude thrust hard at the end, getting in about half of his 9 inch dick inside.

“Fuck, you’re a tight slut!”

Carlos could barely speak. His body writhed and twisted with pleasure as Jude thrust into him.

“You...! Daddy...”

“That’s right, Daddy Jude owns your hole, slut!”

Jude punctuated the sentence with another thrust, causing the words to lodge themselves somewhere deep in Carlos’ brain.

Daddy Jude...Slut....Daddy Jude...

Carlos giggled suddenly, before Jude thrust in again.

“Ooooh, Juuuuuude...” Carlos cooed, “You’re soooo biiig...”

What a fucking faggot! Jude thought.

“Come for Daddy!” grunted Jude, finally thrusting in all 9 inches.

Immediately, Carlos came.

A stiff breeze passed through the Church, disturbing the naked Father Topholes. He slid out of the boyslut, who whimpered with desire, before cumming hard as Father Topholes ordered him to. Once the boyslut came himself unconscious, Father Topholes looked out of the window, teeth gritted.

“Goddamned fuckboy!”

“I love you Daddy!”

the boi bounced on the Man’s dick like he was born to be fucked, like he was nothing more than a tool to be used.

And that was all he was. A hole. A hole made for Men.

No, made specifically for one Man.

“Who am I, bitch!”

the boi couldn’t. his little boi brain had been turned to mush by the Man’s superior Daddy Cock. Although the boi also had quite a good cock, in terms of size, it was still a girly thing, no better than a clit that came without even needing to be touched. the boi had no use for such a big clit, but Daddy let him keep it, because Daddy wanted to know exactly how many times He had made the boi cum his brains out.

“You fucking hole, say my fucking name already!”

The Man had pushed the boy onto his back, and was now fucking him deep and hard, faster and faster. the boi whimpered, body wracked with pleasure. Daddy’s dick not only reached but repeatedly hit against that black hole within his ass, filling it with Dick. Every time Daddy slammed against it, the boi couldn’t help but feel his mind crack and shatter under the pressure.

“My name, bitch! Say my name!”

“D-D—!”

“—Daddy S-aaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!”

Carlos woke to the feeling of being filled up. Something had just plunged itself into Carlos’ asshole, filling the emptiness he had been dealing with for months now.

“That’s right, bitch,” growled a voice from behind, “Your hole belongs to Daddy now.”

Daddy? Wasn’t that Jude’s voice?

“Daddy...Jude?”

“That’s right, slut! You’re Daddy Jude’s slut from now on!”

Daddy Jude’s slut...Daddy Jude’s Slut...

Carlos moaned as Jude kept pounding his ass. He was so confused. Jude’s dick was soooooooooooooooo goooooooooooood. It filled Carlos’ hole so good it made him see stars with each thrust. But Jude wasn’t a Daddy, was he? Carlos seemed to recall Jude saying he wasn’t a priest...but the feeling of the name “Daddy Jude” just felt sooooo right...

“But...I’m not...faggot...” Carlos moaned out.

“You still going on about that, bitch?” grunted Jude, “I purified your ass!”

Jude...purified...Carlos’ ass? His hole? Like Daddy Topholes did?

That’s right, Daddy Jude did purify Carlos’ hole before, didn’t he?

So that must mean...

“I’m getting sick of your shit, bitch!” growled Jude, grabbing Carlos by the hips, and pressing his thumbs up against Carlos’ Slut Mark. Carlos moaned, his hole spasming on Jude’s thick rod, sucking him in deeper than it had ever done before.

“From now on, I own your ass! Get it, bitch?“

Jude thrust hard as he made his demands, making Carlos’ knees weak and mind wobbly. This was all getting too much for him; the purification, the dreams, the cock in his ass! Jude kept playing with his Mark, which only made Carlos’ hole hungrier, sucking him in deeper, and deeper. Carlos couldn’t tell what was happening, what was right, who was the Man, who was Go-

“Get it?? Bitch??”

“Yeeeeees!”

Something broke inside Carlos as Jude finally hit the spot that had tormented Carlos for so fucking long. Carlos came immediately, mind blanking. His ass clenched tighter on Jude’s cock, only making him harder and hornier. The rest of Carlos’ body went limp for a few seconds, and Jude continued to dig into Carlos’ hole.

“Yes what? Yes what, slut?”

“Yhhheeeessss...Dadddyyyy...”

As Carlos slowly came to, the world began to click into place. It was all so clear now.

Daddy Jude was the Man. The Man Carlos had been looking for ever since his dead daddy died and left a hole inside Carlos.

“That’s right, slut!” grunted Daddy Jude, “And you’re gonna do everything I say from now on, right, slut?”

Of course he would. Daddy Jude was also Godly, as proven by how he could purify Carlos’ hole for use. Daddy Jude was even Godlier than Daddy Topholes! How else would Daddy Jude be able to fix Carlos without just his Holy Cock? Not even Daddy Topholes could do that.

“Yes, Daddy!” said Carlos, with more enthusiasm.

“Fuck yeah, Carlos!” groaned Daddy Jude, thrusting harder into his bitch, “No, wait...Carlito is a better name for a girly slut like you!”

“Y-yes! Daddy!” moaned Carlito. With that, Jude slapped his bitch on the ass, making him gasp.

“What’s your name?”

SLAP!

“Carlito, Daddy!”

“And who do you belong to?”

SLAP!

“You, Daddy!”

“Who?!”

SLAP!

“You, Daddy Jude!”

“FUCK!”

Jude’s throbbing, 9 inches burst inside Carlito’s hole. The heat from Daddy’s cum, filling his hole up even more, mingled with the smell of sex and manliness in the air was more than enough to bring Carlito to another climax.

Panting and sweating, Jude slowly pulled out of Carlito, as the bitch whimpered with need. He flipped Carlito over, reaveling the slut’s wet, but still hard cock. Jude sneered as he moved up, sitting on Carlito’s chest, his dick poking at his slut’s face. Without instruction, Carlito immediately began cleaning the cum-covered Daddy cock with his mouth.

Jude sighed with contentment, closing his eyes and smirking. Things were gonna get a lot more fun around here.

“Stay quiet, bitch,” whispered Jude, taking notes with his right hand.

They were in a large auditorium for a college lecture, all the way in the back, where it was dark where the slackers and perverts sat. Jude took notes with his right hand as the professor droned on, as his left hand was busy stifling Carlitos’ moans.

Carlito was sitting on Jude’s lap, squirming slightly, as he tried and failed not to draw attention to himself. All eyes had already been on him when he entered the class behind Jude, due to the fact he was wearing an orange extreme crop t-shirt, with the word “SLUT,” emblazoned in bold white across the chest, paired with a black, 7 inch pleated miniskirt, barely long enough to cover Carlito’s ass, and about the same size as Carlito’s hard dick. Before, when Jude had Carlito not wear any underwear for easier access to his hole, Carlito had a lot of trouble trying to hide his erection from the public. He had ended up walking with his hard dick shoved between his legs, making his strides short and dainty. However, that just made his dick completely visible to the people behind him. The authorities almost banned Carlito for indecent exposure, shouting at him, making him feel dumb, until Jude came and saved Carlito. However, now Carlito had to wear some kind of underwear, something that tucked Carlito’s dick away when it wasn’t in use.

Unlike now.

Carlito’s lacy, bright red thong hung around his knees as he squirmed on Daddy Jude’s cock. With one hand, he pushed down his iron hard 7 inch dick, so it wouldn’t pop through his skirt. With his other hand, he pinched and played with a nipple under his crop top. Carlito could feel the eyes of several other students on him as he tried to look natural, shaking his ass on his Daddy’s cock.

“Good bitch, milk it out now...”

God, Carlito loved it when Daddy Jude called him a good bitch. Carlito loved it whenever Daddy Jude called him “good” anything. Daddy Jude called Carlito a lot of things now; bitch, slut, hole...but Carlito didn’t mind. After all, Carlito wanted to make his Man what He wanted, and Daddy wanted to call Carlito names. And although Carlito didn’t like being called names, when Daddy Jude growled them into his ear, or shouted them as he cored out his hole...Carlito felt so safe in his big, masculine arms, being filled with his strong, manly cock. Daddy Jude was just so...Carlito couldn’t explain it. Whenever he was with Daddy Jude he felt safe. Whenever he was away from Daddy Jude, he wondered when he’d be back. Daddy Jude was just so hot, and smart, and reliable...

Carlito could see now that before he had been living his life wrong. Before Daddy Jude, Carlito had been so empty from the hole in his soul, so lonely from being gay and Christian, so tired of trying to be happy and failing. Daddy Jude made him happy, telling him what to do, what to wear, how to act, who to talk to. Carlito didn’t even need to think anymore, because Daddy Jude was around. Not that Carlito could even think. Carlito was so dumb now, whenever he tried to talk to Daddy Jude about not-sexy, or not-dom-es-tic (Carlito had to sound out the word, even in his head) things, his brain just hurt. Daddy Jude didn’t mind though, he just laughed and patted Carlito on the head, then let him suck his Cock.

Carlito’s hole clenched as Jude’s cock twitched inside him again. Carito’s dick throbbed with tension, his balls churning. Carlito let out a small, sexy moan. He could feel Jude breath quicken, faster, faster, then suddenly stop. Immediately, Carlito let his dick go, letting it bounce up and poke through his mini skirt, pointing up-

If it was Daddy Jude, Carlito felt safe. If it was Daddy Jude, Carlito would let him do anything. Even if that was fucking him in public.

-as Jude exploded in Carlito’s hole.

Carlito came at the same time, legs shaking, cock spurting onto Carlito’s chin and top. Immediately, the slut wiped it off himself and licked it all up. Jude panted slightly behind Carlito, but continued to take notes.

He slapped his bitch once on the ass. Carlito immediatly sprang off his Daddy’s cock, turned around, and fell to his knees. He leaned forward and began to suck Jude’s cock with his mouth, pulling up his thong as he cleaned his Daddy’s slowly deflating member.

As Carlito looked up at Daddy Jude, sitting there taking notes, he couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest guy in the world.

Jude walked out of the class with Carlito hanging off his arm. He liked having the slut hang onto him like some decoration to show off. The bitch was sexy enough to make even straight guys jealous, a fact that made both of Jude’s heads swell.

In the back of his mind Jude noted that this wasn’t normal. In his experience, even the most liberal of college campuses had some homophobes just waiting for an excuse to hurl abuse; doubly so if they saw trans women or crossdressers. And yet, no one seemed to care. Well, that wasn’t true, they cared. They were all jealous. Jude could see it in their eyes. All the faggots and girls wanted to get with him, he could pratically feel the lust burning in their bodies. And the real Men? They wanted to be him. All of them, even the ones that Jude knew were homophobic pricks from experience, looked at him with respect. These factors vastly outweighed the small, niggling worries in Jude’s mind.

Plus, ever since that night three weeks ago, the slut did everything Jude ever wanted. He didn’t even pretend to be godly anymore, he just kept saying that if “Daddy Jude” said it was okay, then it must be. Jude’s cock always twitched whenever he was called “Daddy Jude.” The faggot kew exactly how to make him hard, make him horny, make him sin. And Jude knew the fucking faggot was doing it on purpose.

How? The fucking slut always kept saying he wasn’t a faggot, which drove Jude mad. This slut, this fucking, girly sissy faggot slut said he wasn’t a faggot? After cumming from sucking Jude’s cock? The fucking nerve!

Jude knew exaclty how he was going to get the slut to break.

“C’mon baby,” Jude whispered as he grabbed Carlito’s ass, “Let’s go somewhere more private.”

They ended up in a library bathroom stall. Good enough.

The fucking bitch was sitting on Jude’s cock, squirming, trying not to moan as Jude took out his phone. The slut’s phone, that is. He opened up Snapchat.

“Hey babe,” Jude murmured.

Carlito just moaned.

“Babe,” said Jude.

“Y-yehhh?” Carlito exhaled.

“What are you doing?” Jude asked. Carlito spasmed as he felt his Daddy’s dick stiffen further up his ass.

“Mm...I’m...g-getting...f-fuckedd!” Carlito moaned, voice small.

“In a bathroom stall?”

“I-in a...bathroom..stall!” Carlito confirmed, gasping.

“Like a slut?” Daddy Jude growled.

“Such...a slut...” Carlito whimpered.

“Say it to the camera.”

Carlito looked ahead, noticing the camera for the first time.

“Wh- Oh!”

Jude thrust once up Carlito’s pussy, rubbing his Slut Mark with a thumb.

“Shhhhhhhhhhhhh...just say it for the camera...” he whispered.

“B-b-ah! Unnnhh...”

“For Daddy...say it to the camera...for Daddy Jude...”

“I...I...”

Carlito moaned, his dick hard. It felt so good to have Daddy Jude inside him, filling him up, making him feel safe...so good...

“I’m...”

Carlito looked at the camera.

“I’m such...a slut...for Daddy...Jude...” Carlito mewled.

Jude came the same time he posted the video to Carlito’s story.