Loyal Servants of The Holy Church

I had been a guard for the Church for 4 summers and 3 moons, and in all that time I had fought in the failed attack by the Eiyurites who tried to reclaim their kingdom from the ruthless Church, I had fought the Army of the Dead, that had been summoned from the Aimken Sea to destroy the Church, I had even fought a faction of the Church that tried to dethrone the High Priest from his throne.

Yes, I had seen bloodshed, torture, and backstabbing by the power hungry Church. And yet through all that time I had maintained my purity and kept myself from the temptations of the flesh. After all that restraint, what finally broke me, is a small job I took up the mountain with a young Deacon and his slave.

I remember it like it was yesterday. A hand fell on my shoulder as I slept, I immediately jumped awake, and my hand went straight to my dagger.

“Come with me,” a raspy voice said. I knew it belonged to a Priest even if I couldn’t tell who it was, but the sureness of the voice made me comply immediately. There was only one reason a Priest would enter the Guards’ quarters: to find a dagger to play with.

The Priest held my hand and led me outside to the Gates that led from the Guards’ quarters, and out of the palace walls into the alleys of the market. It was still too dark to make out much of anything, but I could just make out the shape of two horses and maybe a rider. How far was this Priest prepared to go for discretion? I wondered

The Priest led me to the horses and gripped my arm, so he could pull me close to him. He placed his hand over my neck and pulled me closer to him and started to sniff my chest and my neck with his face so close to me he was practically groping me with his face.

I didn’t move a muscle. I didn’t want him to know I was inexperienced.

He brought his other hand down my back and I could feel him dragging it down into my trousers.

He pulled me towards him again. This time aggressively and he squeezed one of my buttcheeks.

“Ahh!” I muttered quietly as I realised there was a man on one of the horses in front of us.

“This is Deacon Mirrho,” the Priest said. “Take him wherever he wants you to go. Do whatever he asks of you. Guard this man with your life,” the Priest said. “And his...” This time, the Priest pointed to the young slave who had been hiding behind the other horse.

“But whatever you do, keep this,” The Priest placed his big hands over my half swollen shaft.

“Aargh!” I cried out as the Priest clenched a fist over my heavy bollocks.

“Make sure this does not go anywhere near the Priest. Or his slave.”

“Yes, Father.” I replied still wincing as he was still squeezing me so hard that I could feel the blood myself throbbing against his the palm of his fist.

“Don’t worry guard. I’ll give you all the attention you need when you come back from your mission.”  The priest said, and he let go of my shaft and gave my behind a light spank.

I let a sigh of relief and evenly matched disappointed. Tonight, wasn’t the night. “Yes, Father. Anything for the Church, Father.” I replied.

“Now, jump on this horse and follow the Deacon. Go!”

But before I could jump on the horse, the Priest pulled me close to him again and whispered in my ear, “Guard! Be warned. That slave is more dangerous, than any enemy you have fought for the Church. Now go!”

And with that, the Deacon and I rode off through the market street, past the town gates and onto the long road to Somon, and the slave followed along running on his feet with surprising ease despite the speed of the horses.

We rode in silence until the sun was almost halfway over the sky.

We had covered great ground and the forest that marked the end of the Eiyur Kingdom was in sight over the horizon. If we could keep this speed, I was sure we would be in Somon in less than 3 days.

“We will stop here and feed the slave,” the Deacon said.

“Yes, Father.” I responded even if I didn’t know what the Deacon meant. Usually it was the slave that concerned himself with feeding the Priests, but it was clear now, that this was no ordinary slave.

Now that we were no longer riding I was able to look at the Deacon and his slave more carefully.

Like most Priests, the Deacon wore a robe made of bright blue and gold fabric that draped over his shoulder. The robes always left enough of the chest and upper abdomen exposed that left little to imagination. The Deacon, much like his fellow ordained Brothers kept a strict ritual of physical exercise. The Church believed Priests were descendent from Gods, and it was their duty to keep their bodies as pristine as the sculptures of their divine ancestors that filled the temples. A Priest’s body was truly worthy of worship, and this Deacon, was no exception. The brown hairs on his big chest which ended suddenly where his navel started, made me drool.

The Deacon spotted me watching him and I suddenly felt the blood rush to my cheeks with shame. But that didn’t seem to bother him, in fact, he started to untie the strings on his robe and he pulled out a his soft member, even though it was soft and floppy it had that heftiness to it that made me want to flop it around in my palm to see how heavy it was. It seemed glorious over his thick thighs that glistened in the sky. With enough hairs around the base of the shaft, that I desperately wanted to catch a whiff of him.

The Deacon stared dead in my eyes as a jet of piss started shooting out of him. Without thinking I fell to my knees, and even though I was quite a distance away, I hoped the wind would carry even just a drop to my face. But I did not dare get any closer, for I remembered the Priest who had forbidden me from  succumbing to the Deacon.

The Deacon stopped pissing and started putting together the slave’s lunch. So I turned my attention to check out the slave.

He had no more than 19 or 20 summers behind him. But his eyes looked wise beyond his years. They seemed to be drawing me towards him. Suddenly without even thinking about it, I found myself pulling my trousers down to my ankles. I was fully engorged and stroking myself while the slave stared at me. Beckoning me towards him with his eyes. He brought the tip of his fingers to his face, and stroked his soft, lips and spit on his fingers then he reached under his robe behind him and I could tell he was rubbing his spit around his hole.

It was as though the slave had penetrated my mind. I could almost feel how soft his skin was, how tight he was, how good it would feel to slide myself inside his body. I had never touched him but it was as though with one look he had shown me everything I needed to know about the pleasures of his body. I was harder than I had ever been and desperate to pin him down and ravage him on the grass. I didn’t care if the Deacon punished me for it.

I started charging towards the slave, who held his gaze, and kept touching his hole, beckoning him. I would have him no matter what. Just as I was about to grip his shoulders and spin him around, I felt a strong arm grab me by the chest and lift me away from the slave.

“Guard! If you cannot control yourself then turn around and return to the palace.”

“I’m sorry Father, I don’t know what came over me.”

The Deacon was still holding me in his arms, and I could feel his member pressing against my backside. It seemed he could read my thoughts because he let go of me immediately and I fell down to the ground on my back.

“Listen, Guard. All we have to do is get that slave to the Temple On Mount Somon without succumbing to temptation.” The Deacon said.

“It’s not him I’m worried about succumbing to Father.”

The Deacon’s face almost turned purple with rage, and his eyes seemed to turn even blacker than they were. He gripped both his arms tightly around my throat and pushed me to the ground.

I could barely breathe, as blood pounded under the Deacon’s tight grip trying to flow to my head. But with him sitting firmly on top of me, I could feel myself get even harder than I had been with the slave. The Deacon felt my hardness as I was rubbing it against his body and he released his grip around my neck. Before the blood returned to my face I felt his big hand land a heavy smack over my face. The sting that smack left on my face left me so delirious it was as if I left my body for a moment.

When I got back to my senses, I realised I was failing at the one job the Priest at the palace had tasked me with.

“Forgive me Father. I fell for temptation but it will not happen again.”

“Listen to me Guard. We must stay strong or neither of us will survive this journey.” The Bishop pulled his rosary that was resting between his two hairy chest muscles and handed it to me.

“Go to the bushes to tame your beast, Guard.”

I took one last look at the Deacon’s body which was practically still shaking from his fit of rage earlier and then I dashed off to the bushes and whipped my member out so I could pray for restraint.

With the Deacon’s rosary in one hand I started to go through each bead.

Gods, my Gods, Gods of the Church, chase away temptation from my body.

I slapped my member as hard as I could and moved on to the next bead.

Gods, my Gods, Gods of the Church, chase away temptation from my body.

Slap!

Gods, my Gods, Gods of the Church, chase away temptation from my body.

Ow!

I fell to my knees and felt deep sorrow, for each slap only made the blood rush down where it didn’t belong.

But by the time I had finished my prayers, I had pulled myself back together and the Gods had tamed my beast.

I went back to the Deacon who was now standing by his horse with the slave behind him. I fell to my knees before his feet and prayed that he would forgive me.

“Get back on your horse, Guard. I can still see sin in your eyes. You are unworthy of the Church’s forgiveness. ”

“Yes Father,” I responded and jumped back on the horse.

We rode in silence for a while and then the slave started to talk.

“Father, where are we going?” the slave asked, even though he had been walking behind the horses for what seemed like ages, he was barely out of breath.

“Shut your mouth, Slave!”

“Father, will you not say my name?” The slave asked sounding hurt.

“I know all your tricks Slave.” the Deacon responded quietly.

We rode in silence again for a while.

“I know your sin!” the slave said out of nowhere.

For a moment I thought he was talking about me but then the Deacon stopped his horse and he climbed down from it. He went to the slave and slapped him on his cheek.

“Keep your mouth shut. Whore.” The Deacon spat a thick wad onto the slaves face.

“But you like whores, don’t you, Father?”

“Hush!” the Deacon cried out. This time he looked at me as though he was angry at me for simply being there to hear the slave’s confession.

“Guard! We will spend the night here.” The Deacon commanded.

“But we can still cover three more miles before the sun sets.”

The Deacon started to stomp towards me and though I was mounted on the horse and he was only on his two fit I felt smaller than I’d ever felt my whole life.

He just stared at me, clenching his fists and I could see the blood filling the big vein on his forehead.

“I’ll go hunt for dinner Father. This is a good place to spend the night.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Later that night, as the last light of day faded, the Deacon, the slave and I sat around the fire almost equal distance from each other as though we couldn’t trust ourselves to have even the slightest bodily contact.

We ate some rabbits I had caught in silence. But the Deacon kept his eyes locked on mine the whole time and he kept touching himself under his robe from time to time as though he couldn’t contain himself. It was all I could do to keep myself from begging him to get it over with. But we had already finished one day successfully without sin and we had to stay strong until we reached the temple.

Finally it was time to sleep. It seemed the slave was as useless as the Deacon for I had to make dinner, find water, and set up the sleeping area for both the Deacon and the slave myself. I made sure to prepare three spots that were fairly apart to avoid any temptation. When I was ready I lay down over my spot and pulled my coat over my body and face. I saw the Deacon and the slave fall into their spots. And it wasn’t long before the slave started to snore quietly.

I was starting to dose off myself when I felt the Deacon crawl onto my spot and lay behind me so I could feel his chest heaving with each breath against my back.

“Guard,” the Deacon said affectionately. “The slave was right you know?”

“About what?” I asked, any sleepiness I had felt before had left my body. I was wide awake.

“It’s true.” The Deacon paused. “I like whores.” The Deacon whispered in my ear so I felt his hot breath goind down my eardrum then he lightly bit the tip of my earlobe. He started wiggling himself even closer to me and of course he was hard as a rock. The only thing keeping him from sliding into my hole was the loose fabric of his robe. He wrapped one arm around me and held me tightly as though he didn’t ever want to let go.

“I remember my first time with a dirty whore.” He whispered in my ear.

“I had been called by the mayor to pray for his heir. His only son. He was maybe your age. And already married. When I arrived the son was sleeping in his marital bed. Alone.”

The Deacon slowly ran his hand down my chest and groped at my own hard shaft then when he was satisfied I was hard enough he went back to his story.

“It was my first summer as Deacon. I had never been alone with a man before. But I knew this was no normal man. This was a whore. A dirty, sinful, godless whore.

“Even without any words exchanged the whore and I both knew what was supposed to happen in that room. I knew he would be my first but I had no idea there would be many more married whores, too horny and unfulfilled by their husbands that only the touch of my hand, the kiss from my lips, the seed from my loins,  could satisfy.

“I climbed onto the bed and into the covers behind the Mayor’s son. He didn’t even turn to face me, he just lifted his robe over his behind so I could see where he wanted me to enter him.

“I never even saw his face.

“As I started to ride him and he started to grunt from strokes, the Mayor, the most powerful man outside the Church walked into the room. His jaw almost dropped to the floor.

“I looked the Mayor straight in the eyes, I could tell he was angry and yet powerless, and disappointed to watch his own son ruined, used like a cheap whore and there was nothing he could do about it. I made him watch me as I filled his only son with my seed deep inside. And left him without giving the prayer for salvation he desperately needed. I had used his son and I felt no remorse.

“I walked towards the door and as I passed the Mayor I looked him in the eye. And told him: ’Tell your boy, I will be back for more tonight. He’s my whore now.’

“’And you,’ I placed my hand on the Mayor’s chest and I swear I could feel his heart pounding in his chest- he was stunned. I ran my hand down into his trousers, I could tell my presence was making him excited.

“’Actually, I think I will have the Mayor of Eiyur tonight. What do you think, Mayor?’

“’I serve at the pleasure of the Church, Father,’ The Mayor told me in that shameful voice that all weak men use. I could tell he wanted a taste of what I had given his son, and Guard. Believe me when I say I gave him what he wanted.’”

The Deacon finished speaking, and it was at that point I realised he had managed to slip himself inside my tight hole while he was speaking. Now as he started to stroke deep inside me and my senses returned to my body I felt, each glorious deep, slow stroke. I knew the Gods would never forgive me.

The Deacon moaned as I started to writhe up and down his shaft, any resolve that I had had left my body and I was ready to give myself completely to the Deacon.

“I like whores.” The Deacon repeated. “Are you a whore, Guard?”