Chapter 1: Climax
My fingers trailed through the rows of twine-bound books that lined the dusty alcove I called my temporary quarters. It was a nest of sorts, in the bowels of the seminary—away from prying eyes and too-close judgment. I drew out a well-worn, leather-bound copy of Augustine's Confessions and nestled into the musty armchair. Guilt and passion tussled in the pit of my stomach.
The moment I heard the rustle behind Validus's Book of the Dead, that naked, swinging tongue darted through my mind. I clutched Augustine close to my chest, tainted with sinful thoughts, closing the old man's words in his moment of faith, nakedness, Validus's turgid flesh still tainting my thoughts.
The air in the dimly lit library, which seconds as the swinging door for the shadows of the darkened underground chamber Validus called home, tasted of aged mystery.
My fingers shook as I traced the spine of Augustine's bible, prohibited desire wresting with my very being.
Quickening footsteps. Validus materialized like a man-shaped serpent from the abyssual shadows, shudders skittering down the rungs of my spine. Wanton smoldered in his demonic eyes; the obscenely large bulge in his leather loincloth protrudingly clear; my heart jackhammered against my ribcage.
What was I doing here? I was a man of the cloth! Yet, the thought of his coiled, muscular body, the promise of those colossal, throbbing shafts, the two—no, three menacing heads coaxing desire from me—I was a man of the cloth who could not forsake this daunting challenge to my faith. I slammed Augustine shut, words of passion and divine redemption smothered against coarse, judgemental leather.
Validus stood, tattered loincloth framing the sinful prospect of his two slick, upright cocks. I glanced away, only to fall victim to the seductive curve of his serrated, black lips. Smirking, the demon took a slow, teasing step in my direction, muscle-hard thighs tensing beneath worn leather.
"Why resist, Thompson?" He purred lasciviously, low and commanding. His finger traced over the inkwell on the desk, trailed over my quivering hands.
"You want it, Thompson. Confess."
Deny it guilty as I might, the thick allure of temptation - forbidden both by man and deity - hung between us, colluding over the dark chamber. I gulped, taking in the towering bulge in the loincloth, Screams of carnal lust both terrified and allured; a potent elixir that matched the core of my being, pounding with captivating anticipation.
"Leave," I murmured.
A guttural chuckle.
"Thompson, my sweet innocent, we both know you don't mean that." He unfastened the leather knot, letting his loincloth fall away, freeing the fat, bouncing members. My mental confliction deepened, the ominous growls beckoning me like a siren call into the night. Validus lowered to a crouch, his talon-like fingers weaved through my hair, gripping tightly against my skull. His forked tongue snaked out, darting against the seam of my lips, uninvited yet yearned for.
I gasped, the iron sweetness of his breath entwining me in an indecent noose. The devious appendage plunged in, violating sacred spaces as the impish, wicked seducer shrugged off the last vestiges of the loincloth, laying bare his lustful intentions.
His cocks pointed towards the sunken chamber, daring and defiant, the fat heads releasing a silky, predatory essence at my anguished weakness.
The lowermost, more humble flesh-pillar swayed, seemingly pleading for attention and I couldn't help but be drawn in, sigils of lechery burning into the very flesh of my soul. Validus, the diabolical demon, snarled triumphantly as I leaned forward, drawn to the fleshly, pulsing lewdness of the hell-bringer.
The split tongue plunged deeper into the sacred recesses of my trembling mouth, awakening the slumbering ends of pleasure I never knew existed. I was but a moth, entrapped by the wicked mastery of the demon, his iron grip entrapping me within the ends of his claws – marking me the venal prey I was to become.
I could feel his other hand splay across my thigh, the sharp, blackened nails digging into my trembling leg – leaving crescent imprints across the now flushed skin beneath my cassock.
An obscene groan rumbled from his chest, smothering my gasps and moans as he dragged his vulgar tongue deeper into my throat.
The bastard had me: salivating at the illicit salaciousness of his imposing hardness. He rolled his lower shaft against the side of my still clothed leg, smearing my skin with a sticky, indecent fluid.
My heart beat erratically, and I could no longer differentiate between terror and lust. I braced myself against the bombardment of sensations and the delicious guilt suffusing my every nerve.
"Look at yourself, Thompson," he crooned, the wicked roughness of his voice spreading warmth down the inner sanctums of my thighs. That flippant grin surfaced as my eyes found his enormous shaft grazing my leg.
Resistance at this stage was a piper's dream: non-existent, unachievable, and altogether forgettable. The beckoning growl in my loins had won this round, and I could not deny my part in this atrocious rendezvous.
"S-stop," I protested poorly, even at my own ears knowing full well the hypocrisy that dripped from each syllable.
Validus's fingers twisted in my hair, his vile tongue pressing further into my mouth, owning it completely.
The lower appendage of his two cocks ground itself against my trembling leg, marking me with his demonic seed.
"Thompson!" I choked against the vile appendage. It was futile to fight anymore. I willingly opened my mouth, accepting him as the sinful creature's tongue twisted and curled against mine, exploring me intimately.
He released my hair and tugged the fabric of my cassock aside, baring my trembling thigh. The obscene organ rubbed against my skin, sticky and pulsating. My will to resist snapped.
I surrendered to the filthy serpent that was Validus's tongue, twirling and tying around my own—a wicked dance I was now too captivated to reject. I sucked and gasped, moaning my compliance against our sinful embrace, while Validus's demonic laughter echoed around the dimly lit room. He pulled back, leaving only his two cocks to demand my attention.
"Your body craves sin," he sneered, teasing my mouth open with the threatening head of the only cock that remained.
My tongue darted out to taste the veined hardness that had invaded my dreams since the day I arrived at that forsaken seminary. Pre-come oozed through my lips, and I moaned, detesting and relishing my fall from grace.
"I want your cocks in me."
His absolute, self-satisfied smirk sent a signal to his hips, jabbing the quivering shaft into my mouth. My hands gripped his thighs, steering the unyielding length towards my engorged throat.