Save the Sinner
(© 2004 by the author)
The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent.
Which I am saddened to say can no longer be obtained! (Effective August 14th 2007)
Brother Bill Bennett drove his pickup truck down the country road towards the
white wooden chapel in the hills. The brothers had just called him and told him
he had to come over now. They had caught another sinner in town, another
disgusting sodomite who had to be dealt with. And now the time had come for the
brothers to try to save the sinner's soul.
It seemed what happened was this. The Reverend Phelps, after a hard day stacking hay in his field, had driven into town to get a few cold beers and joke around with the brothers, maybe even get a little pussy. And lo and behold, he walks into the bar and there's a stranger at the bar. And having a glass of white wine.
The Reverend sat down next to the young man at the bar and ordered his first beer. "Ya new in town?" he asked the guy.
"Just passing through. I'm driving down to Florida, but I was getting tired, so I figured I'd stop off here in your nice little town and rest up. You got a hotel here by any chance?"
"We sure do," said the Reverend taking a big gulp from his glass. "The Spofford Arms just down the road a little."
"Great," said the guy. "I could use a little shuteye."
And the way the guy was speaking and using his hands was making the Reverend suspicious. He would have to investigate this stranger. Maybe there was a lost soul here begging for redemption. The guy was more like a teenager. Around eighteen or nineteen years old. He was medium height and thinly built, and had a fresh smooth face. It looked like his body was probably smooth too.
"What ya gonna do in Florida?" he questioned.
"Oh, just hang out. Have some fun. Maybe do a little swimming on the beach, and then at night go to the clubs." He said.
"What kinda clubs is they?" The Reverend probed. He thought he knew.
"Oh, just clubs," the young man answered.
"Can I buy ya another glass o' whatever it is you're drinkin'?" offered the Reverend.
"Why, thanks," the young man answered.
""What's your name, son?" The Reverend asked.
"Les. Les Woodward," the boy answered introducing himself. And put his hand out to shake. The Reverend shook his hand.
I'm Reverend Phelps," he said. "Harry Phelps. But you can call me Reverend."
"Okay, Reverend," Les happily agreed. "What kind of Reverend is that?"
"I'm the Reverend of the chapel out there in the hills. Course I'm a farmer too. But my chapel work is real important to me. I just love the chance to save a sinner's soul from hellfire and eternal damnation.
Just clean it up and get it ready for the great Father. Where are you from, young Les?"
"I'm driving down from Connecticut."
"Oh, you live in Connecticut. Ya live with your ma and pa?"
"No. I go to school there," Les answered. "I'm on spring vacation. And my parents were killed in a car crash last year." A few tears filled Les' eyes and rolled down his cheeks.
"Oh, you poor little guy," Reverend Phelps said reaching out and pulling Les against his chest. He put his arm around him and pressed him tightly. Les took out a Kleenex and wiped his tears. Reverend Phelps was a really nice man, he thought.
"But come on now, we're gonna get you set up for the night."
"That's okay." Les didn't want to be a bother. "I can find the hotel by myself. Just tell me which way."
"Hotel? Shit. I ain't lettin' you stay in no hotel. That would be against my religion. `When you meet a stranger in trouble, take him in.' That's what the Book says. You're gonna stay with me at my place."
"Oh, no. I really couldn't," Les protested. "I don't want to put you out."
"You ain't puttin' me out. It's my joy to help you. It's my chance to show the Heavenly Father what a good believer I am. You don't want to take that away from me, now do you?"
"But nothin' You just finish that glass and we'll get goin'. My truck is outside."
"But I have my car," Les said.
"Leave it where it is. I'll drive you back to it in the morning. No sense both of us driving out to the farm. That's just a waste o' gasoline."
"Okay," Les conceded. "I give in." He swallowed the last of his wine and stood up. "Let's go."
"Okay then," said Reverend Phelps.
"Oh, wait. I just remembered. All my stuff is in my suitcase in the trunk of my car."
"You know. My toothbrush. My pajamas."
Phelps laughed. "Hell, you don't need no pajamas. We don't wear pajamas out here in the country. That's sissy stuff. " Phelps cocked his head slyly. "You ain't a sissy now are ya?"
"No," Les said uncomfortably.
"Course, you ain't. And I got an extra toothbrush out there in the farmhouse, so you'll be jes' fine. Come on, let's go now," he encouraged. "My truck's right out front."
They left the bar, and Les climbed up into the passenger seat of the farm truck. The Reverend got behind the wheel, dug into his pockets for the keys, and finally finding them, started the engine. Sitting in the truck next to him, Les looked over at the Reverend. He was a big man. Not that tall, maybe five foot ten or so, with a big chest and maybe a little bit of a beer belly. His arms and his hands were big, and powerful. Les probably could have fit both his hands in one of the Reverend's palms. Les looked down. The guy's legs were thick and strong too. Probably like iron. His face was tanned from working outside, no doubt, and he had a rugged, wild looking brown beard. He was a real bear of a man. The Reverend turned to him and smiled.
"Just you relax. We'll be there in half an hour."
"Half an hour?" Les was amazed. "I didn't realize you lived that far away."
"Well, yeah. I told ya I got a farm. You're gonna get a nice fresh breath o' real country air."
"Okay," Les said. It was too late to complain. They were in the truck on the way to the farm.
Finally the Reverend turned down a long narrow dirt road and pulled up in front of a small wooden house which was badly in need of a fresh coat of white paint. A similar shabby looking barn could be seen further down the road. The Reverend stopped the car in front of the house. "We're here," he announced. "This is your hotel for the night."
"Great," said Les. What else could he say?
The Reverend helped Les out of the car and they climbed the rickety front steps.
Phelps opened the door, which apparently hadn't even been locked. "Come on in," he invited.
He led Les up the worn wooden staircase and into a room right at the top of the stairs. "Only got one bedroom." The Reverend said. "Hope you ain't gonna mind."
"That's fine," Les said. What else could he say? He looked across the room at the single double bed.
"Only got one bed," said the Reverend. "Hope you ain't gonna mind."
"Won't it be a little crowded for you?" Les asked timidly.
"Shucks no. I'll be fine. You're just a skinny little guy anyway, ain't you?"
"I guess so."
The Reverend took him down the hall to the bathroom where he could wash up before retiring. When he was finished, he returned to the bedroom and sat on the end of the bed while the Reverend used the bathroom.
"I guess we might as well hit the sack," said the Reverend.
"Isn't it a little early?"
"No it ain't a little early. I get up at four a.m. to milk the cows, and besides we might just as well hit the sack. I don't got no television or nothin'."
Les shrugged his shoulders and started to get undressed. When he was down to his little white jockey shorts he started to climb under the covers.
"Now come on, boy. You can't wear your underwear to bed. It just ain't sanitary.
Take `em off."
Les heard a dictatorial tone in the Reverend's voice and felt pressured. Why was he starting to be afraid of this big gruff man who was being so kind to him? He stepped out of his jockeys.
"There that's better, now. Feel the cool country air on your balls and on your smooth little white ass. Don't it feel good?"
"Fine," said Les tightly and climbed into the bed, pulling the covers over his balls and smooth white ass.
The Reverend started to disrobe. His body was massive and thick. He looked even more intimidating in the nude than he had in his clothes. He marched around the room doing a couple of things, and Les watched his round hard rear end, as he bent down to the bottom drawer of the dresser. After closing the drawer, he came back towards the bed, his large limp cock and balls swinging left and right, hitting one leg than the other. Slap. Slap. Slap. Slap. He got into his side of the bed, but he didn't pull the covers up. "My cock and balls always get so damned hot when the weather starts getting' warm."
"Uh huh," Les assented not really wanting to get into a big conversation on this. He looked down at the fleshy bulk and started to feel uncomfortable.
"So damn hot. Feel how hot they are," the Reverend said.
"I don't think---"
"Feel how hot they are," the Reverend raised his steely voice.
Les was beginning to feel truly afraid of the man. Nervously he put out his hand and let a finger touch the man's penis."
"Not with your finger," the man yelled. "You can't feel nothin' with your finger. Use your hand," he insisted and with that he flattened Les' whole palm over his big steaming organ.
Les felt consternation. He had never before remotely been in a situation like this. He didn't know how to behave. He couldn't just up and leave. He was miles from nowhere without his car and he didn't even know in which direction the town lay. He was also afraid that the man might hurt him. He let the Reverend wrap his smaller hand around the big penis. "Now don't that feel really hot to you?"
The penis was little by little opening out. Like an accordion. Getting larger and larger and stiffer and stiffer as it inched its way up the Reverend's abdomen `til it almost touched his belly button. "That's it," the Reverend encouraged. "You just keep your hand on it like that and move it up and down, up and down. That's a good boy. You like that?"
"Well I don't---"
"You don't what?" The Reverend asked harshly. "You don't like it?"
"I like it fine," Les said softly, hoping to pacify the big man.
"Oh, baby, that's it," the Reverend crooned. "That feels so good. So good."
He stretched out enjoying the hand work. Les continued to jack the large prick
up and down, trying not to look at it. Trying to look across the room at the dresser. But his own penis was starting to get stiff, which was really embarrassing. The Reverend noticed him getting hard, and commented. "You're getting' a little hard there boy. You ain't getting excited, are you?
"No," said Les.
"I sure hope not. Cause I wouldn't wanna have no queer here in bed with me or nothin'. It's okay for a guy to help another guy out. But he don't have to go and get all excited about it. Right?"
"Right," said Les, willing his disobedient dick to go down. But it wasn't going down. It was getting harder and harder. It was almost starting to hurt. He could have used his helping hand on himself. But it was busy.
"You know what?" The Reverend suggested. "I'd like to feel those soft lips around my big thing. I'd like to feel that wet mouth suckin' at my dick like it was a cow's teat, suckin' out the sweet milk."
"You what? You gonna help your friend out or not?"
Les was sitting there, trying to decide what to do, when the Reverend grabbed his hair and forced his face down upon the thick fleshy hammer. "Go ahead, friend. I'm waitin'."
Les sighed in resignation and took the thing into his mouth. It had a sweet salty taste and a hot musky odor. It wasn't that bad. He tried to fill his dry mouth with saliva, and then began to move up and down on the thing. He stood on his knees with his head bent over the Reverend's lap, fulfilling his task.
"Oh, Father. What sweet lips this boy has. What a sweet mouth. Thank you, Heavenly Father, and praises unto you for this great gift. Make him suck my balls for a little bit now, Heavenly Father." Les took his cue from the words and moved down onto the man's heavy ballpouch, licking away. Ingesting the man's sweat.
"Oh, Father. I am truly a blessed man to receive this gracious bounty. Let him take each of those balls into his mouth and tongue them one at a time. Let me hear him moanin' with pleasure. Okay, Father?"
Les sucked a large testicle into his very wet mouth and slurped on it. After a few minutes, he moved to the other one. Then he went back to the sack, licking all over it, and then moving his mouth down to lick the smooth flesh under the man's balls, while the Reverend firmly directed his head with his giant paw. And he moaned while he slobbered as the Reverend had instructed.
"Oh, sweet Father," crooned the Reverend. "Sweet lovin' Father. Let your lovin' disciple get a big hot load off tonight." He turned his attention from heaven back to Les. "Now suck that dick. Come on now.
Suck it!" Les was sort of beginning to enjoy it a little.
He made Les suck him all over, up and down, front and back for the next half hour. Then he said, "Turn over on your stomach."
"What are you going to do?"
"I said turn over on your stomach. Are you deaf, boy?" He forcefully flipped Les over onto his belly, and as Les was lying there, the big man spread the boy's legs.
"Please don't," Les begged.
"You mean you don't wanna help a friend out? Is that what you mean?" He sounded very intimidating.
"I wanna help you out. It's just that----"
The Reverend cut him off. "Without a big dick in it, that little mouth of yours just runs on and on, don't it?" And he climbed on top of Les, then got between Les' legs and began to expectorate gobs of spit into his hand which he rubbed all around his cock. The he spit some more gobs onto his fingers and began to work them one by one, then two by two, then three by three into Les' narrow little virgin hole. He worked his hand at the entrance, slowly stretching the tight muscle, opening it, opening it, until now he could move the head of his wet dick into the hole and begin pushing, just a little, now a little more, a little more spit, now the head was inching in a little at a time and yeah, now the head had gotten through the door. Les moaned. He tried to relax but the man's penis was invading him, hurting him, killing him. He took a deep breath and tried to bravely bear it, and after a few minutes with the head sitting just inside his hole, he was beginning to get used to it and the pain was going away. It was really going away. And then the giant hammerhandle pushed in further, now further, now deeper. Oh, no. No. No. Down. Down. Les felt perspiration on his forehead, and now he felt the man's oversided balls hitting his asscheeks and his own balls. He was all the way in. That giant dick was all the way in his body. And now it started to move, up a little, down a little, up a little, down a little, then the head moved back up to his entrance, now the whole thing plunged down and filled him again. Filled him completely. "Ooohhh," Les groaned, expressing his pleasure though against his will. He liked it. How could he? But he liked the big rammer working its way deeply into him. And he liked the commanding weight on top of him.
The Reverend was fucking and sweating, and it felt great inside this cozy asshole. "Feel's good? Don't it, boy?"
"Yes," Les cried. "It feels great. I love it. Fuck me. Fuck me."
"I bet you liked my big dick in your mouth too? Didn't you?"
Les gave himself up to the thrill of the moment. "Yes, I loved it. I loved it. Fuck me. Keep jamming your big hot cock up my hole. I love it. I want it. Fuck me. Just keep fucking me." Les worked his ass trying to masturbate the pole in his delighted rectum. His insides sucked and pulled on the fantastic plunger.
Les had always been a calm cool person, but now he was almost out of his head with ecstasy as the big tool kept sawing up and down tickling his sensitive membranes.
"I knew you loved it," the Reverend said contemptuously. "I knew the minute I saw ya you would love it." The Reverend now began clenching and unclenching his own asscheeks grinding his prick deep, deep, deep, feeling the hot churning in his heavy eggs as they were fixing to spew out his boiling cream into the boy's burning funnel.
They lay there for a few minutes. Then the Reverend slowly withdrew his softening dick and climbed off the boy. "You disgusting scum," the Reverend said. You unrepentant unredeemed sinner."
"What?" Les was shocked at the sudden change in the Reverend.
"Don't act so surprised. You know what you did. You sucked on my cock," he accused.
"But you wanted me too," Les protested. "You made me..."
"And you fuckin' liked it," the Reverend continued. "You fuckin' liked suckin' on my cock, and then if you didn't go and take it up your ass."
"And you loved it, you freakin' male whore, you said you loved it. And then you even let me cream in your ass. I don't know how I can even stand to look at you."
"But you did it too."
"I didn't do nothin' but what the Father meant a man to do. Fuck and get sucked. A man's supposed to fuck and get sucked, not suck and get fucked. The Heavenly Father didn't create men for that. He created ladies to suck and get fucked. Why you're nothin' but a lady-boy.
Les started to cry. "I'm sorry. I'd better go."
"You ain't going nowhere. There ain't nothin' more horrible in this earthly kingdom then the presence of a sodomite. You're goin' to hell, boy. Do you know that?"
"No, I'm not."
The Reverend crossed the room and took something from the dresser drawer. But Les wasn't watching. He was crying. "Yes, you are. You're goin' straight to hell, unless we can figure out some way to save your eternal soul." And with that he jumped on Les, and used the rope he was holding behind him to tie Les' hands behind his back. He crossed the room and got more rope, and then returned to tie Les' feet together.
"What are you doing?" cried Les.
"I'm gonna try and save your soul, boy," he said. "Now you just hunker down for the night, and tomorrow we're gonna try and purify you." He picked up the phone at the side of the bed and dialed a number. "Brother Abel. This here is Reverend Phelps. We got us another poor sinner in town. Another faggot sodomite in need of a soul-saving ceremony. Call all the brothers to meet at the chapel tomorrow morning at nine for a soul-saving. No. I'm all right. I got the queer tied up here. I'll bring him down to the chapel in the morning. Yeah. Good night to you, too. " He hung up the phone.
"See. I don't want a nice boy like you to go to hell. It's against my religion. I'm gonna do everything I can to make you see the error of your ways and accept the sweet Father. And you gotta start reading the Book, boy. You know the Book has a lot of good advice in there for people like you. Like the eleventh commandment-`thou shalt not suck cock,' and the twelfth commandment-`thou shalt not take a cock into your ass'. Bet you never even heard of those commandments, did you, boy?"
"There. I know'd it. No wonder you're doin' all those sinful things." He shook his head. "It's gonna be the brothers' task to redeem you, to purify you. Tomorrow morning we're gonna have a little soul-saving service over at the chapel. Now just you go to sleep now, boy. Don't you worry. We're gonna save you from damnation." He lifted the blanket and pulled it over Les. Then he crawled in himself, and turned off the lamp next to the bed. "Night. Night," he said. In the darkness Les thought he could hear the mooing of the cows over in the barn. But he was exhausted and fell asleep.
The next morning the Reverend untied his hands so he could use the bathroom. Then he fed the boy a piece of toast and a cup of coffee, and retied his hands.
He wouldn't even let Les get dressed. He just threw an old sheet around him and dragged him down to the truck, lifting him inside without even straining himself. The truck took off and bounced around on the bumpy country dirt roads on the way to the chapel.
"Ya all ready to be saved?"
"Yes," said Les. He decided he'd better be as cooperative as possible and let them have their religious service and pray for him. Then the Reverend would let him go and he'd continue on to Florida. Why had he ever stopped here in the first place? "Big mistake," he thought bitterly.
When they got in front of the chapel, the Reverend parked the truck and opened Les' door. He draped Les over his left shoulder and carried him into the small shingled shack. He carried Les past all the pews up onto the altar. There he laid out a large red coverlet and placed Les squarely in the middle of it, before removing the sheet from the young man's naked body.
Slowly the chapel started to fill with worshippers. The brothers were coming in one by one or two by two. They were all rugged looking country men. Farmers with rough skin and shaggy beards. They were all bears. Deeply religious strong country bears. They sat down in the pews, starting in the front, and gradually filling the rows, waiting for the Reverend to begin the ceremony.
There were more than sixty of them.
Finally, the Reverend stepped up to the pulpit, with his back to Les and addressed the congregation. "Bothers. We got us a real serious situation here. We got us a sissy non-believin' faggot. But I've explained to him the error of his ways, and promised him that we're gonna save his soul and offer it to the great Father so that someday he can get into the heavenly realm up there. Are you brothers up to the task here? To save this boy's eternal soul. To de-queer him?"
"Yeah," they recited in unison.
"Brothers. We've had to perform this ceremony before. And you all know how the service is conducted. We don't need no books to perform a soul-saving. We do that with our own prayers, and hearts, and bodies. Now let's fold our hands and pray for this fallen transgressor. And may the Heavenly Father accept him unto him." Everybody folded their hands and prayed not quite silently.
Les was nervous. He had no idea what the service would entail. A few prayers certainly wasn't so bad. The ceremony was getting off to a good start.
"Okay, it's time to begin," the Reverend said. "You brothers just take off your garments and lay them down on the pew where you are. And none of you touch no one else's wallet. This here's a chapel, and we are holy messengers of the high one."
Les turned his face sideways and saw that all the brothers down in the main part of the chapel were stripping off their clothes. Finally, they stood there naked- tall, short, thin, fat, each with an impressive instrument dangling in front of him, a few of which were already starting to stretch out, as the excitement of the religious event forced blood down into their members.
They stepped onto the small altar, (as many of them as could fit) and crowded around Les' supine body. After removing his own clothes, the Reverend picked up a knife and came towards Les, who was terrified. Would this be a blood sacrifice? Were they going to murder him? But the Reverend only cut his bonds, and pulled the rope away.
"First, I think, this boy needs a good whuppin. Now we don't got no horsewhip here, and we don't wanna leave no scars on that clear skin anyhow, so we'll just whup him with our hands. Turn him on his belly." They turned Les face down. "Now every brother kneels down and gives him five good smacks on his little white behind, so that it gets nice and warm and red."
Potch. Potch. Potch. Potch. Potch. Potch. Potch.
One after another, the brothers were spanking him. And at first his ass felt warm and nice, and he was even getting a slight erection, even though it stung a little. After the tenth brother though, it was starting to really hurt. But they kept coming. There were more than fifty brothers to go, and after a while Les kept jacking his painful red ass up down and around, and tears were rolling down his cheeks.
"AAAGGGHHH," he moaned and cried and sobbed. "AAAGGGHHH."
"Now comes the disgustin' part. We have to put our dick's into his ass." There was a murmering. "Now come on. This ain't no surprise to you all. This ain't the first faggot soul we've had to save. We can't let his boy go before the Father still bein' a homo. I know it ain't no fun. But I had to do it last night to make sure he was a full-fledged queer. I had to let this piece of trash suck my cock and I had to put my cock into his little homo asshole to make absolutely positive that this boy was a lost sodomite. And I found out quick enough," he laughed bitterly. "That fag couldn't get enough o' my big dick in his mouth or his asshole. He was beggin'for it. So now we're gonna save him in the most humane way possible. We're gonna give him so much of what he loves and craves that he'll be begging never to have to have it again. Right, boys?"
Right," they all shouted back.
"I'm real proud of all you boys, with your pure hearts and your pure souls to give of your time and bodies. To come down here to the holy chapel, so you could all put your big dicks into this sinner, and fuck him silly, and make him suck your cocks, until he never wants to see a cock again. Ain't that right, boys?" "Right," they cheered.
"Okay. Now you form two lines. One at his faggoty ass and one at his cocksucking mouth. And you don't leave him till you shoot a good wad of cum into whichever hot hole you got. Understand?"
"Right," they cheered
"You start at the bottom, Henry. And Phil, let him give you some head."
Brother Phil kneeled in front of Les' face. He clasped his hands and raised his eyes skyward. "Dear Heavenly Father. We thank you for the blessing we are about to receive, and pray that you save this poor sinner from his evil ways. Let him see the divine truth as printed in the all-truthful Book, and join the army of the born- two- times men." Then he pulled Les' face up by his hair, and forced his mouth down on the hard giant peg jutting up from his hairy lusty loins. The more Les choked and gagged, the more Brother Phil pushed his head down until the blunt round end of the flesh banana was stabbing the back of his throat, causing him to choke and gag and drip spit as it plunged in and out, each time crashing against his esophagus.
At the same time Brother Henry straddled his smooth round rear end and began to jab that thick needle into his still tight behind. Brother Henry clasped his hands and gazed heavenward. "Great Heavenly Father. Let this cock go in where it's supposed to go so we can bring this sinner's soul to you." He rammed his cock into the tender lips of the boy's closed sphincter muscle and jabbed. Finally under the painful onslaught, the muscle started to give way. Brother Henry spat a few times and wiped it on his dick to ease the passage, and then it began to inch along. The thick bulbous head worked in, fighting back against the tight ring gripping it. A few more jabs and Brother Henry sighed as his long dick went down and down. Brother Henry lay down flat on the boy's back to begin the cumbersome task of saving the young man's eternal soul. Plunge, plunge. But the Heavenly Father was making Brother Henry's cock feel wonderful, so that he would be able to complete his mission and cum in the boy's ass as required. "Thank you, Heavenly Father," Brother Henry intoned and picked up the pace as the sound of hips slapping against ass cheeks filled the holy chapel.
Brother Phil's long dick was starting to send signals as it stabbed into the back of the young sodomite's throat. "MMMM. MMMMM. MMMMMM," he jubilated through his closed lips as his hot milk worked its way down his long dick only to be expelled deep within Les' gullet. Les started choking again as the scorching liquid flooded down his throat into his stomach. But he had liked it. After he got started he had wanted to suck Brother Phil to completion. He had wanted to swallow all that cum. And he was now starting to really enjoy Brother Henry feeding it to him in his ass. But wait. What was this? Brother Henry's movements were getting frenzied. Les felt the thick meat in his anus expanding, and knew Brother Henry was about to shoot. He clasped his ass muscles down on the meat to work the cum out and down into his bowels. And there it was. The hot soothing liquid pooling down into his insides. Oh, how great. Really great. These stupid country boobs thought they were punishing him, but they were teaching him to love it. He wanted more. Lots more.
As Brothers Phil and Henry withdrew their shriveled cocks from him, the Reverend said. "Good work, boys. Now step aside and make some room.
Brother Austin, you take the top half, and Brother Willie, you get the bottom half.
The two new brothers got into position, offered a short prayer to the Heavenly Father and stuck their big dicks into the two hungry willing holes. "I'm doing this for you," Brother Willie yelled loudly. "I'm fucking this boy's ass for you, sweet Heavenly Father. Bless me and give me a good cum." He was on his knees with his cock buried, watching his princely engine continuously entering and then not quite leaving the soft warm clutching receptacle inside the boy's butt hole.
"Put some suction on it, boy," Brother Austin ordered pressing his hands on Les' facial cheeks. "That's it. That's it. Blessed dear sweet Father," he cried in jubilation feeling the jaws suctioning the cum from deep in his balls. They each set off their explosions inside Les' body. And Les' body as if starved for the nourishment, ate it all up. He wanted more. He wanted much more. Thank you Heavenly Father for all these sweet delicious big hard cocks. "My mouth and ass are yours, Heavenly Father. Take them," he offered silently. He was starting to fall under the strong spell of religious devotion. Even religious fanaticism.
Then it was Brother Mitch-face and Brother Zeke-ass. More delicious pounding. More sweet cream. At around the tenth pair, Brother Michael and Brother Ken, Les started to tire. His mouth felt strained from being used so much, and his asshole was starting to feel just a little raw. But they kept coming. And after ten more sets, it was really starting to hurt. His jaw just ached, and his mouth was getting so dry that it was becoming difficult to suck. His ass had gone completely dry too and now the cocks were not feeling so wonderful up there. They were hurting him, scraping against the dry, now swollen walls of his rectal passage. This was becoming too much of a good thing.
"Please. Please. Stop" He begged.
"No, boy." You ain't nearly done yet, the Reverend said. "There's lots more brothers here, and until we can be sure that you'll never wanna see another cock again in your entire life, we gotta continue. The holy service ain't over."
Now it was Brother Luke and Brother John. And Brother John was tearing his ass. Les was sure his ass was bleeding by now. But they were relentless. Brother Luke suddenly gave him a hard crack across the face. "Now, you watch them teeth. Ya hear me?"
"CCCCHHHHAAA," Les choked, trying to keep his teeth away from Luke's thick pole as it stabbed his tired mouth time and again. "It hurts! Stop! Stop!" He pleaded, but they wouldn't stop. They kept hammering away at his exhausted body. Slam. Slam. Slam. Les started to cry. It was really hard to suck a dick when you were crying and sobbing, but they just kept jamming it in and making him suck cock after cock. And his ass was totally raw. He didn't know when he'd ever felt this kind of pain. He had to be bloody. He needed a doctor. He needed a hospital. "Oh, sweet Heavenly Father, please make them stop. Make them stop, " he cried.
"The Heavenly Father ain't ready for the service to conclude," the Reverend said.
"We still got more brothers here. They gotta feel a part of the soul-saving. It just wouldn't be right to not let them shoot their holy fluid into your mouth and ass, now would it? Keep goin', boys."
Ten brothers later at each opening, Les was like a rag. Torn, wounded, sobbing.
A battle casualty. The naked Reverend leaned over his body, his hot cock jutting out. "Just one more, boy, and the ceremony is over." And he plunged his enormous stick into Les' swollen, puffy, angry red asshole. But he knew Les was in agony so he tried to bang the boy as gently as he could. He was not a mean man. It's just that this had to be done for the sake of the boy's soul, and for the gratification of the great Heavenly Father. Finally he felt that exquisite tickling and as the scummy fluid gushed out of the end of his dick, he roared "This one's for you, sweet Heavenly Father. My cock is cumming for you.
Bless me, Father. I'm shooting my load as a tribute unto you." When he withdrew and stepped away, Les lay there with rivers of cum bubbling noisily out of his asshole, running over his ass cheeks, down his thighs, into his pubic hairs. It just kept bubbling out. There must have been a gallon or more filling his intestinal tract. And he was slightly nauseous from the other gallon of cum which he had ingested, and was now trying to digest.
The brothers began to leave the altar and go down into the pews to retrieve their clothing. As each one stepped into his overalls he left the chapel. Finally only Les and the Reverend remained inside. Les was lying face down on the red mat, sobbing. The Reverend walked over to him, his big limp jewels swaying, and then he bent beside the boy, his big limp jewels dangling. Les waved him away.
"No more, please, no more. I just can't take any more," he sobbed.
"The service is over, boy. You been saved. Your purified soul's gonna fly straight up to the Heavenly Father on your final day." He began to put on his own clothes. When he was dressed he again threw the sheet over Les. "Come on now. We're gonna go home."
"Could you please let me get my pants and then take me to my car."
"You got no car, boy. I had it sold this mornin'. You're comin' home with me."
"That's right. We're goin' home now."
"No, please. Let me go. You've gotta let me go. I can't stay here." He was a prisoner.
"Sure you're gonna stay here, boy. You're gonna stay with me in my house. The Heavenly Father says `take a stranger in distress into your house and into your bed', and that's what I'm gonna do. That's commandment number thirteen and I don't break no commandments." He started leading Les out to his truck.
As they were driving home, the Reverend continued. "Yes, sir. You're gonna be my new assistant on the farm. You're gonna get up at four every morning and milk the cows and feed the chickens and help old Reverend here stack the hay, and cut the wheat, and pick the stringbeans. You're gonna love it here. In the good fresh country air. Getting' in touch with Mother Nature. Prayin' every night to the Heavenly Father. And now that you got the devil out o' you, I know you're gonna be a good boy and be a real man. And I'll be right there to check on you and make sure you don't slip back into faggotry."
"I won't slip back. I'm saved. You can let me go."
"Now, now. That's what you think now when you're sitting here with a sore ass. But you got a little bit o' woman in ya, and you know women. They go through all kinds of pain and agony when they're having a baby. And darn it, if right away a few months later, they don't wanna go and have another baby. This pain's gonna go away, but that dark desire in your asshole's still gonna be there. No, sir. I gotta watch you like a hawk. Keep you by my side at all times."
Les sat hunched over in the truck, listening. He was trapped forever. His life had taken a new turn and he was in despair. He knew there was no escape.
"But the Heavenly Father is good, boy. You're allowed a little slip here and there as long as your soul's in the right place. In fact, the Heavenly Father is gonna let you slip 4,999 times. It's only when you get to 5,000 that there's trouble. The 5,000th time we're gonna have to have another religious service and save your faggot soul again." The Reverend drove with one hand on the wheel, and little by little his other hand drifted tenderly down and under Les' smooth round ass, which he gently rubbed and rubbed with deep affection.
At last he would have a life partner. Someone to eat with, someone to work with, someone to pray with. And soon, very soon the boy would come to love him and cling to him. It had to happen. After all he was all man, and the boy---well, the boy did have a little bit o'woman in him.