stnscubb

Chapter 6: Origin's Story Father John cums in Paul's ass, screaming like a wild beast. I watch him, petrified, as I see his ass cheeks contract as he injects all his poisonous cum into my boyfriend's ass. This lasts for more than a few minutes, the cum is so much that the ass can't contain it all, so it starts to drip out. Pink drops of cum mixed with blood come out. My Paul's blood. He's passed out in the meantime. After Father John finishes unloading inside my boyfriend, he pulls out his huge cock, still dripping. He's all sweaty, his hands are covered in blood from digging his nails into Paul's ass, whose hole is torn, swollen. I'm sitting on the floor, unable to speak, or move. Father John takes a shirt of mine from the closet and dries himself. "Your shirt smells good. Your boyfriend smells good too...do you want to smell it?" He brings his big cock closer to my face. The smell of cum and blood is nauseating, yet I can't move. "Tell him to come to church, as soon as he wakes up. He's part of the community now." Father John looks out the window, and sees Luka, who runs to hide. The priest smiles. "I see you've made a new friend too. Be careful hanging out with certain people!" Father John gets dressed and leaves, satisfied and arrogant. Luka waits a few minutes and then comes in to help me. We try to wake Paul, but nothing happens. He's exhausted. Luka says to let him rest. In his sleep, Paul still moans a few more, and moves his butt, as if he's still carcasses Father John's cock. I put a blanket on him and we leave the room. "What the fuck happened?" I ask Luka. "I'm sorry, there was nothing we could do anymore. This is not a normal town, Mark. It is said that a couole of centuries ago, the priest of the time sacrificed the souls of the community to a demon, to have power and eternal life. To achieve this, he began to feed on the men of the village, brainwashing them, and promising them the same things, that if they had sex with him, he could pass on this power to them. In reality, he became stronger and stronger, feeding on their lives. In the meantime, the pact made with the demon begins to corrupt faster both his soul and his body, so he begins to fuck more and more and harder with all the men of the village, to stay alive. They have orgies, rituals where all kinds of perversions happen. The thirst for power and life mixes with lust. The men begin to fuck each other every day. They leave their wives to dedicate themselves only to this. Meanwhile, their bodies begin to rot. They need to fuck to take lifeblood from the other, but a once they are all cursed, they only decay faster. Soon even the priest has no pure one to feed on, and he becomes a sort of living corpse: the demon does not let him die, but he is no longer alive. Since then, his brothers took care of him, locked him in their monastery, and sent another priest to the city, to bring order. But since then, the poison spread by the demon continues to make new victims. For this reason, only the priest in charge is allowed to suck the life from the faithful. No one else can have sex, or they would die faster. Paul has been cursed. Father John will use him, sucking his soul out little by little, until he has nothing left. Father John is the priest who replaced the first one, over two hundred years ago." "This is all absurd! But how can we stop Father John?" "It is impossible, he is immortal. The only solution would be to find the first priest and burn his body. Only then could we break the curse." "How do we find him?" "We have to investigate. Father John will surely want to throw a party for Paul's conversion. He will invite all the faithful to take turns abusing him. Just once, so as not to finish him off right away. We could infiltrate and investigate. They will all be dressed as friars, our faces will be covered." "Why are you helping me? And why does Father John hate you?" "I told you. I don't go to church anymore. Father John...He converted me and all the males in my family. Among them, my twin brother. During the post-conversion party, Father John fucked him for days without ever letting go. He took all his life energy, and at the end of my brother there were only bones left. He liked it a lot. I'm afraid Paul might end up the same way, he can't control himself with those he really likes." In the meantime, Paul wakes up and comes out of the bedroom still naked. Walking like a zombie towards the exit. They are calling him. They are calling their new brother to donate his body to them. Luka and I follow him discreetly, in the dark of the night.

@Frddol on Telegram, add me to your groups!

I have always been monogamous. I know it is unsustainable, but open relationships aren't my cup of tea either. It is like bareback sex while being on prep. Most of the pleasure comes from the risks you take to get it. That's why I am still in a monogamous relationship, but I take bare cocks all the time and my hubby doesn't suspect anything. I have even been fucked by his friends, a couple of them are poz (undetectable, unfortunately) but one of them put frozen cum in my ass as i was on the phone with my bf telling him I loved him so so much.

New Chapter coming out today😈. I feel so inspired and horny right now! And the worst is yet to come!! Feel free to comment what should happen next, so that I can include your suggestions!

Chapter 5: Poor Unfortunate Soul I couldn't stop watching. I've never seen Paul so submissive. He's the top of the couple, and he told me he never had any intention of getting fucked. Instead, he's moaning like a bitch, his eyes rolled back, and his ass moving on the priest's big cock, wanting it more and more. Father John mounts him like a bull, digging his nails into his smooth, round, white butt of a young rugby player, and pulls him onto his cock. Paul screams in pain for a moment, but it quickly turns to pleasure again. I see blood coming from the flesh, Father John has literally dug his claws into my poor boy's ass. And he lets it happen. I'm paralyzed with terror and disgust, Father Paul's blue eyes were filled with evil lust. As if sensing my presence, he turns abruptly to the window. He sees me and smiles evilly. He starts fucking Paul even more brutally. His shirt is soaked through with sweat, so he takes it off. He reveals a perfect body for a man his age. Muscular, tanned, thick white hair everywhere. He has a huge tattoo on his back: a pentagram, and in the center the biohazard symbol. I recognize that symbol immediately. I know it means HIV. I start screaming, telling Paul to stop. Father John looks at me and laughs, my screams are drowned out by his laughter and Paul's groans. I run to the front door, Luka, who has been standing next to me the whole time, tries to stop me. "It's too late for your boyfriend. Soon he will be one of them. One of us." Upon hearing this sentence, a primal rage takes hold of me, and I punch Luka in the face, who faints on the floor. I enter the house, I run to our bedroom: Father John, standing, with his back to me. His dirty tattoo moves in rhythm, as he fucks my boy. Paul is lying on the bed, his moans are fainter, he is exhausted. The sheets are soaked in his blood, Father John continues to keep his claws in his round ass. "Leave my boy alone, asshole! You disgusting monster!" Father John turns calmly, as he continues to fuck him. "Paul, my beloved, do you want me to stop?" Paul opens his eyes with difficulty, and can only whisper "N-no... please.... don't stop...." "Paul, your boyfriend is here, maybe we should stop" he continues to say with that evil grin plastered on his face. "N-no...I want you....I don't give a damn about him....I love you...." Hearing those words, Father John starts to fuck harder: "Oh yeah? You love me? Do you know that your loser boyfriend is watching us now?" "Y-yes, he finally sees me enjoying myself" "I'm going to make you become like me, boy. Do you want to sacrifice your life to the purest and darkest pleasure?" "YES MY LORD" "Let my poison pervade every cell of your body, and you will finally be free! HAIL DARK LORD, I GIVE YOU ANOTHER LOST SOUL" They both explode in an incredible orgasm. Blood, cum and sweat merge with their bodies. And I can't help but watch. My poor Paul.

Thank you for the amazing feedback guys, really appreciate it! I got my inspiration back for this story I started almost one year ago. Your support is helping me keep on writing. I used to go on and off this site, but I always come back. Last year has been tough on a personal level, but I consider this as a "safe" (Lol) place, with an amazing and supportive community. A new chapter is coming very soon! Feel free to Dm me or comment here about suggestions and elements you would like me to include in this story! Love you all, you filthy pigs!

Chapter 4: Home visit Paul and I go home. I walk in, slamming the door: "What the fuck was that??" "What do you mean?" "All those weird people, Father John who looks like the head of a cult and invites himself to our house, you, who gets your brain washed with a smile, and I saw that your dick got hard." Paul turns red, he's embarrassed to talk about certain things. Growing up in a Catholic family fucks with your brain. "What are you saying, is it weird if a priest wants to help two kids who just arrived in a new city? And anyway, yes, I really like Father John. He ... understands me" I shake my head in disbelief and leave. "I have to go for a walk." I walk through the streets of the city, I don't know where I'm going. I think of Father John, of his lascivious smile while he touches and massages my boyfriend's bicep....Paul, who looks at him dreamily....what the fuck is going on? I walk into the first bar I come across, I need a drink. I sit at the counter, I grab a beer. The bartender, skinny and weak, struggles to pour it. At a certain point, someone sits down next to me. "You're new here, right?" I turn around, and I see a young man in his 30s, black hair with a few white streaks, blue eyes sunken into their sockets. Pale, like everyone else. Thin lips that show off his large, white teeth. "Is it that obvious?" I reply. He laughs, we both know what I mean. "Well, yeah. I'm Luka by the way. Nice to meet you." "I'm Mark. I don't think I saw you in church today." Luka pulls back, staring at me with a wild look: "I don't go to church. Not anymore. And you must not either." "Oh, you don't have to tell me. My boyfriend and I are Catholic, but he's really devout. Then today we met Father John. He's a nice guy, but he gives me the creeps." "Father John? Don't let him into your lives. Where's your boyfriend now?" "At home....Father John was coming by later..." Luka lowers his voice, and with a firm and decisive tone he says: "We have to go. Now." We walk towards the house. We quicken our pace, even though I notice that Luka is struggling to keep up with me. We arrive. I see that the light in the living room is off. The door is locked. Strange, I remember I had left it open. I think maybe Paul went out. I'm about to go look for him, maybe in church, when I hear moans coming from inside the house. Luka and I look at each other, my heart is beating fast with anxiety and anger. I walk around the house, I see a light in the bedroom. Luka says, "Too late. Mark, don't look, please." The moans are getting closer and more insistent, they are becoming screams, joined by deeper sighs. My eyes are covered in tears, my heart is pounding out of my chest. I look out the window: Father John, wearing only his black shirt, fucking my Paul, completely naked, in our bed. Father John towers over Paul, who strangely seems so small. I can only see the priest's muscular thighs, his skin glistening with sweat, pushing himself into my boyfriend with such force, like a starving man who hasn't eaten in months. Paul's face was one of Pure Ecstasy, like the statues of those saints pierced by arrows and tortured in various ways. Their suffering was so high that it reached God.

Well, of course this can't be possible because as you'll see the story has very little to do with reality, but being raised as catholic in a small town, most inputs are in fact, real. You just have to keep reading 😉

Hello, I am not sure where I can post this. I am 30yo, Italian, otter type. I am looking for new connections. I am really into older men, bears and poz would be great! If you wanna chat or whatever, hit me up :))

I love getting fucked in saunas! Where I live, there is one with mainly old men, which I love. Last time i was rinding a cock, I left the door of the room open because I like being watched. Well, I feel more pressure on my hole, I turn and I see this skinny old man just entered and was trying to double penetrate me! Needless to say, he did. It was amazing. I don't know if his emaciated look was due to aids, but I like to think it was

Charter 3: Mass is over After the mass, the faithful shuffle out. Father John shakes hands with each of them. The wives hold up their husbands who don't seem to be able to stand on their own, but they find the strength to shake hands with the priest, looking at him with total admiration. The wives thank him, and have to drag their husbands away who don't want to let go of him. This was really strange, I was about to say something to Paul, but he was already in line to greet Father John. This really annoyed me. Our turn comes, Father John's face lights up when Paul introduces himself: "Hi Father, I'm Paul, I just moved here. I have to say that your homily was incredible, I've never felt so much passion!" "Hi Paul, it's a pleasure to have a new faithful. The community always needs new blood! And who is your friend?" Father John's gaze falls on me, but he seemed decidedly less pleased to see me. "I'm Freddie, his - " " - Friend. He's my friend. We share a flat." "I bet you share more than just a flat..." Paul's eyes widen and he laughs nervously, Father John smirks and puts a hand on his shoulder, massaging it. "Don't worry, you don't have to hide anything from me, I get it. No one will judge you here, you'll soon find out we're very open-minded here." Father John winks at me as he continues massaging Paul's shoulder. Enough is enough. I grab Paul's other arm and drag him away, while Father John says: "I know you live in that B&B, if you want I can find you another place. I'll come by tonight, so we can talk about it more!" Paul turns and smiles at him, the I notice his bulge: he's horny as fuck.

Chapter 2: Father John We met Father John a few days after our arrival in the new city. We settled into a bed & breakfast that was draining our last savings, we were alone, and we didn't know what to do. Despite our sexuality, we had always been very religious, so it was natural for us to seek comfort and concrete help in the only Catholic church in the area. We went to Mass one Sunday morning, and to our surprise, we noticed that there weren't many people. As soon as we crossed the threshold, we felt the gaze of the few faithful all on us. It was no wonder, two strangers in such a confined environment stand out immediately. We tried to keep a low profile and sat in the back pew. It was incredible how they continued to stare at us unabashedly, especially the men: the few women were next to what I believe were their husbands or fathers, keeping their heads down. The men, however, stared at us intently, some with curiosity, others with amazement, still others with disdain, to the point where I thought they had immediately realized that Paul and I were together. I felt uncomfortable, as if we had crashed a secret club that didn't want us there. I tried to hold their inquisitive gaze, and then I noticed something that sent shivers down my spine: the men all seemed like they were veterans of a war or a rave party, they were pale, with sunken faces, glossy eyes, so much so that at first I thought I was at a funeral. They all seemed old, even though some were not. Fortunately, the staring contest was interrupted by the sound of a bell, and we all stood up for the arrival of the priest. The singing began, and the altar boys came out from a door with the priest following. Even the altar boys seemed strange, they were adults, or so it seemed to me, and they too had a sad and emaciated appearance. They seemed to drag themselves wearily to the altar. The priest, on the other hand, was in great shape, a handsome man in his 60s, taller than Paul, broad-shouldered, I couldn't see much of his body because the robe covered him, but you could tell he was muscular. He had cold, blue eyes, perfectly combed white hair with a part on the side, and he sang too, smiling. He passed us by and immediately noticed us. At that moment, he stopped singing, gave me a quick glance, and then moved on to Paul. He smiled at him, showing his very white teeth, and motioned for us to sit further forward, then went toward the altar. Paul stood up immediately and obeyed, I followed reluctantly, preferring to stay secluded. I took his hand, but he moved it away nervously. Given the reception of the faithful, it was indeed better not to attract too much attention. Once seated, the priest began his homily. He was very emphatic, knew how to modulate his voice well, he seemed like a soap opera actor, or one of those motivational speakers who make you quit your job and invest everything in cryptocurrency. In short, he didn't make a good impression on me. And yet you could see that everyone hung on his words, finally the men and the few women present seemed happy to be there. I whispered to Paul, "Certainly it's different here..." "What do you mean?" "Have you looked around? These people seem like they stepped out of a Tim Burton movie!" Paul stifled a laugh. "True! But if we're so few, we can't make enemies. This is our new community, they might lend us a hand." "Yeah, probably if you ask them for a hand they'll tear it off their arm." "What an idiot! And stop making me laugh, the priest is speaking." Father John glared at us, then melted into a smile as charming as it was unsettling. From the pulpit, he began his reading: "From Matthew 16:21-27 From that time on Jesus began to explain to his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer many things at the hands of the elders, the chief priests and the teachers of the law, and that he must be k1lled and on the third day be raised to life. Then Jesus said to his disciples, “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me will find it. What good will it be for someone to gain the whole world, yet forfeit their soul? Or what can anyone give in exchange for their soul? For the Son of Man is going to come in his Father’s glory with his angels, and then he will reward each person according to what they have done.” Upon hearing those words, and the way Father John pronounced them, slowly, with his warm and deep voice, I understood why everyone looked at him with such admiration: he was very charismatic, I couldn't stop looking at him either, yet there was something false about him. "Paul, this is the moment when – " “Jesus predicts his death,” Paul replied, moved, still gazing at Father John.

***Hi there! This is my first attempt at writing a story here, plus English is not my first language, but I had this twisted story in my mind that I had to share! This first chapter is just setting, so please be patient since it isn't anything exciting YET! P.S. I am open to any kind of comments or suggestions, even bad ones, they could be all really useful in the future! Enjoy :)*** Chapter 1: The Beginning of the End We made it: we finally had a home of our own, rented, sure, but far enough from both our families to start a new life from scratch. Paul and I met in high school, neither of us had come out yet. He was very popular, good at sports, six feet tall, with big, sweet brown eyes, dark blond curly hair that cascaded down to his shoulders. Being a rugby player, he had that classic physique: massive, solid, huge arms and thighs, a round and perfect butt that protruded under any kind of pants. In a way, his cherubic face, white skin, and full lips clashed a bit with the macho rugby player physique, but this dissonance made him even more attractive in my eyes. Now, at 23, he hasn't changed much, which is why he proudly flaunts that light blond fuzz on his legs, armpits, and face, and what he calls a "beard" but is actually just a couple of mustache hairs and a few on his chin. He thinks it tones down the angelic features of his face and makes him look "tougher" on the field, yet it's precisely these features that are his strength, and will be his downfall. On the other hand, I am much more anonymous: slightly shorter than him, slim, I just go for runs with him early in the morning when I feel like it. My family is Italian, so I never had to pray for a beard to grow, since I was already shaving at 14. In the gay classification, I completely fit into the otter category, not that I boast about it, but Paul loves my Mediterranean colors, so I'm fine with it. We started dating when we were 16. Secretly, of course. Rumors about me being gay were already circulating, but I didn't understand the origin, since I didn't do anything to draw attention to myself, my only two friends were as straight as they come, and besides, I was born into a Catholic family, where certain things are taught to be hidden even before you're aware of them. Paul was also Catholic and we attended the same church. I was an altar boy, so we knew each other since we were kids. During mass, our eyes would meet, I caught him when he was distracted or about to fall asleep, so when he looked back, I smiled at him or pretended to admonish him, from my position as the incense bearer. So, seeing each other even outside of school, we got closer and closer, until we exchanged our first kiss in a cemetery, during our parish priest's funeral. From then on, we were a steady couple for the rest of high school, without anyone knowing about us. It was very difficult, frustrating, yet beautiful. There were other gay couples happily out in the open and no one cared much. We hid mainly out of fear of the reaction of our Catholic and super-conservative families. But after seven years, it seemed absurd to keep lying, so we came out to our parents, result: we ran away to a new city on the opposite side of the country, without a family, without a home, and without a job. Not knowing what to do, we turned to the Church. We got an audience with the only Catholic priest in the area, we told him the whole truth and that we were desperate. He promised us he would take care of us. Oh, he did. That meeting was the beginning of our end. God, if you exist, have mercy on our souls, and give me the courage to tell the story of my poor Paul, and of Father John.

I have always done bb with my boyfriends, never with hookups. After my last break up 4 years ago, I had great sex with a random bear, we kept texting days later and he confessed he stealthed me because my ass felt so good. I was angry and scared, but I asked him to meet again and just do bb thus time. From that moment I used condoms less and less, and now it is one year I only do bb. I started going to saunas and dark rooms, do all the things they tell you not to do to keep a healthy life but hey, I have never felt so alive! It's still a bit scary, most of the times I don't even see the face of who's breeding me, but I am accepting that this is who I am, and I will never go back to using condoms.

frddol