Message-ID: <55345asstr$1171433402@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Original-To: ckought69@hotmail.com Delivered-To: ckought69@hotmail.com From: Daemon Way <daemonway@yahoo.ca> MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit X-Original-Message-ID: <913912.84712.qm@web51103.mail.yahoo.com> X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Tue, 13 Feb 2007 23:19:22 -0500 (EST) Subject: {ASSM} "Teacher - Part 52" (nc, mc, m/b, b/b) X-Original-Subject: ST: "Teacher - Part 52" (nc, mc, m/b, b/b) Lines: 1060 Date: Wed, 14 Feb 2007 01:10:02 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2007/55345> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: dennyw, emigabe TEACHER - PART FIFTY-TWO By Daemon Way daemonway@yahoo.ca Jonathan Winthrop, kneeling there on the hardwood floor before the pulpit, looked up at the statue of the crucifixion and prayed for the thousandth time, "Please Lord God in Heaven, in the name of all that is holy, I beg of You, exorcise this demon that has possessed my soul. I beg of You, rid me of this evil for I know not how to rid myself of it, and I do not know how much longer I can resist the foul temptations that daily plague my mind and my heart and endanger those I love. Please Heavenly Father, help me, not for my sake but for the sake of my family. Give me the strength to fight this demon. Oh Lord, help me understand why this is happening to me. I will do whatever You expect of me, please, just give me a sign. This I beg of You in the name of Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit, Amen." "Reverend Winthrop?" Jonathan spun around, his heart rising in fear at the sound of the voice. It was the sweet, high-pitched voice of a child, but one that had been unexpected the church having been empty when he'd entered, and he not having heard anyone come in. Of course considering his despair and tortured state of mind, a herd of elephants could probably have rampaged through the church without his notice. It was indeed a child, standing there so close he could reach out and touch him, but not a child he'd seen before. From his deep reddish-brown skin and facial features he was probably Mexican. There were a lot in Riverside, migrants working in the fields in the surrounding orchards and vineyards, many of them in the country illegally, but they lived mostly over on Canal Street or in Baldwin Park so there were none in his congregation. He was a slight boy, four foot three, sixty pounds, with full cheeks, long jet black hair and dark brown eyes. He looked to be about the age of his youngest son, Jonah. "Yes?" he said suspiciously. His kind were always looking for a handout or to steal something the moment your back was turned. "My name is Ramon Carlos. I am here to help you." The sun at that precise moment broke out of the clouds and shone in through the stained glass window and down upon him, illuminating him much like the renaissance artists depicted the saints and angels. With his sweet innocent face he could easily be a cherub, or . . . . "You what?" "I've been sent to help you." Still on his knees, Jonathan Winthrop looked up at the boy. The stained glass window had broken up the beam of sunlight into a rainbow of colours which spilled down over the boy. A feeling of wonder and hope passed over him as the boy smiled, a wide, tooth-filled, innocent grin as only a child can have. His earlier thought returned. Why not? God's messengers appeared on earth in many forms in the Bible. At that moment Jonah entered the church, accompanied by a man Jonathan did not recognize, a distinguished looking man who looked to be around thirty with a thin moustache and a European air about him. He was smartly dressed with an expensive suit and shirt and leather shoes that had to have been imported. He was carrying a large black case. "I'm here to help all of you," Ramon said seriously, looking at Jonah and then up at the stranger. The tone of his voice and his manner reflected a maturity and confidence far beyond his years and which confirmed for Reverend Winthrop that he was in the presence of no ordinary boy. Reaching out with both arms outspread, Ramon embraced Jonah and the two young boys kissed, a long, tender kiss on the lips that surprised both men, and that sent feelings of love through their hearts, and of lust through their loins. As their lips parted, the two boys, one dark, one fair, one brown-eyed, the other blue, one with long, blond, curly tresses, the other with long, flowing, black hair, looked into each other's eyes and smiled, the purity and fondness in their hearts needing no augmentation from the one up above looking down upon the four of them-no, not God, but one who was becoming as omniscient, and one who was known by all four of them. That was, of course, Cory Wilson, who had entered the church before the Reverend, and was at the moment hiding in a recess high above the altar where he had an excellent view. When Jonah had shown up at his house on Sunday six days ago, two weeks after the little incident Cory had arranged in Riverside Westbank Park with Jonah, his father, Father Henry, and Goosey Gilles and his nephew and the dogs, his first thought was that his plan had not worked and Reverend Winthrop was again caning his son to beat the evil out of him and subjecting him to his rants about the devil and the wickedness of boys. Jonah had quickly relieved him of that concern, telling him that his father had stopped doing those things, just as Cory had said he would. Cory did not need his headband to sense the seven-year-old's sadness, nor to find out what Jonah had on his mind. Looking up to Cory as a younger brother might look up to an older, and Cory being the only one he could talk to about such things, besides being filled with gratitude for Cory having stopped his beatings and the torture of listening to his father's lengthy sermons, and even more so for having introduced him to the joys a boy could have with his dinky, Jonah readily opened up to him. It had been Cory who had introduced him to the joys of jerking off on Interfaith Day five months ago, and then later to the pleasure of finger fucking and the fun he could have with dogs. It had also been Cory who'd gotten his father to let him attend the wild overnight party at his house where he'd been rimmed and sucked off by Kenneth Ballard, and then the second party where he'd fucked his first ass and had engaged in an all night orgy of jerking and sucking and being jerked and sucked. Of course unbeknownst to him the day he had been introduced to sex, the day he'd discovered Julius and Lad in the park and Julius had sucked him off to his first ever orgasm, had been Cory's doing also. The problem, he explained as he sat there in Cory's bedroom practically in tears, was that his father now totally ignored him, and, in fact, seemed to be avoiding him, which to Jonah was even worse than the caning and the lengthy lectures. That came as a big surprise to Cory. Having left the Reverend with a post-hypnotic craving for rimming and sucking his young son's asshole, something the thirteen-year-old actually thought quite ingenious besides terribly funny, he'd thought Jonah had been spending the last two weeks being thoroughly tongued to ecstasy every night by his father. What had gone wrong with his plan he had no idea, but he knew he had to find out, not just for Jonah's sake, but to make sure any of his little pranks in the future didn't flop also. Putting on his headband, he headed back to Jonah's place with the seven-year-old trotting beside him. In Jonah's agitated state of mind, it was easy for Cory to pick up the boy's sadness and his apprehension about what was going to happen, and his excitement and gratitude that once again Cory was going to help him, and his thoughts of making Cory's dicky feel good in payment. Cory put his arm about his shoulders and told him not to worry, that he was just going to see if he could figure out the reason for his father's behaviour, and assured him that things would be all right, accompanying his words by pinging him with feelings of hope and relief through his headband. He'd come a long way since that first day he'd discovered the band and in a burst of anger had sent his mother scurrying to the bedroom to frig herself with the pepper mill without a clue what he'd done, and his early, awkward experiments with the band working at a conscious level and labouriously projecting a single thought at a time and linking it to his target's long term memory, moving in small steps and carefully adding related thoughts and watching for acceptance of the idea by the flicker in his target's eyes, like when he'd told Goosey to teach his boys how to do a strip dance way back in September. By reading his great-grandfather's diary and the web sites Ben Hanson had given him on mind control and telepathy, he'd discovered how to gradually connect real memories and desires of his targets to desires that were not theirs by making small logical connections and overriding their conscience. He'd since then learned how to broadcast not just his thoughts but his feelings to several others at the same time. He'd also learned that the better he knew the person the easier it was though to his frustration his influence was limited by the other person's morals and beliefs. Also like his great-grandfather he'd learned that he could induce a trance when he and the other person were both in a highly emotional state during which time the person would do almost anything, but unlike his great-grandfather who thought the headband was cursed when he'd lashed out at others in anger and made them do things he later regretted, Cory knew from his readings on the Internet that when a person went into a trance it disabled barriers like free will and judgement, making the person more suggestible and less critical of new ideas. He also found he could send a simple message direct to another person's mind instead of using the labourious method of going through their conscious mind as he'd been doing, something his great-grandfather had also discovered and had described as "putting one's thoughts and the material world aside and concentrating with all one's might on the ethereal plane." Again from his reading on the Internet, a resource his great-grandfather didn't have, Cory figured the explanation of it being a matter of clearing his mind of thoughts, sensory input and emotions and thinking about his target was a close explanation to his great-grandfather's, and he marvelled at the insight and intelligence of his unknown ancestor for coming up with the answer. He had a feeling he and his great-grandfather would have gotten along well. He had, by accident, discovered he could read minds, something his great-grandfather apparently had not discovered, which from his reading apparently worked the same way as when he sent messages directly. He discovered that by using the same method he could scan a person's mind for surface thoughts like what the person was presently thinking, or probe a person's mind deeper for inner thoughts like memories upon which he could add his own. He'd done both two weekends ago when he'd helped his classmates get revenge on Molly and Trang. That had been exhausting and he still had to perfect the skill, along with his ability to use the band to sense another's moods and to send them his own moods as he was doing at the moment with Jonah. He had come a long way in using the band in the past six months though. Cory had the answer to the problem seconds after arriving at Jonah's house. Jonathan Winthrop was in such a state of emotional turmoil Cory had no difficulty picking up the man's thoughts. He was indeed avoiding Jonah, and to Cory's surprise and dismay, it was the result of Cory's post-hypnotic thought in the park that whenever he saw his son he'd feel the need to rim and suck his backside. Instead of driving him to his son as Cory had intended, it had driven him away. Knowing he'd not be able to control his urge, not after the filthy, obscene things he'd done in the park, he'd made a point of never being alone with his youngest son, and as much as possible avoiding seeing him at all. That was not difficult in that he now spent all day every day in the church praying for help. With his active imagination, it had not taken the thirteen-year-old that long to think of a way to undo what he'd done, and the beauty of the plan was that it would not only make it up to Jonah, but it would get back at the Reverend for his recent neglect of his son too. Implementing his plan had not been difficult either and the only reason he'd waited until the following Saturday was because it was the best day to get all the players together, and because Saturday afternoon the Reverend's wife would be out shopping and the rest of his children would all be away doing their things. "You were sent to help us?" Reverend Winthrop asked, struggling with the wave of love and lust that had passed over him. "Yes. To teach you how to love," Ramon said as Cory had told him to. Jonathan looked at the boy incredulously especially considering the feelings he'd just had, and then up at the adult who had entered the church with his son. The man looked just as perplexed as he felt. A prepubescent boy, and a coloured one besides, was going to teach him, a forty-one-year-old Baptist minister and father of seven and how to love. "Who sent you?" "He did," Ramon said, looking up at the recess in the vaulted ceiling where Cory said he'd be hiding and would help him out if he needed help. None of the others, not even Jonah, knew he was there, and of course given they were standing in a church, the three arrived at a far different meaning than Ramon had intended. "Momma says the greatest love of all is God's love for mankind. Do you think that is so?" he asked, looking at Reverend Winthrop. He had mentioned that to Cory when Cory had come over and told him he needed his help to teach a man about sex, and Cory had said it would be a good thing to remind the preacher. "Yes, yes, of course." Cherubs had mothers? He'd never thought about it, but he supposed it would be so. But why was the boy here talking to him about God's love? Was God punishing him for some reason? "She said if people on earth loved each other as much as God loved them this would be a much better world." "That is true." Despite their many faults, he had to admit that the Mexican people, at least the peasants, were much more religious than the average American. It was too bad they were Catholics. "Then why would my making love to your son upset you?" he asked, following the script he and Cory had worked out as he looked up at the man with the wide-eyed innocence of a child, his sweet looks and age at variance with the question he'd just asked. "Many reasons," Jonathan snorted, impatient with the conversation and finding the topic uncomfortable, especially with a child. "There is a difference between love, and making love." "But did John not say, `let us not love in words, neither in tongue; but in deed and in truth'? Isn't making love a way of showing love, a very special way?" Ramon asked, again quoting his mother. That wasn't how he and Cory had decided but it seemed right to say. Pastor Winthrop looked at him in surprise. What child not only knew but was able to quote Chapter 3, Verse 18 of the first Epistle of John? "Well, yes, but you are children." "When the disciples asked Jesus who was the greatest in Heaven, didn't He tell them it was children and that they wouldn't enter the kingdom of heaven unless they became like little children?" he asked, recalling his mother's response when their neighbour had complained about him not knowing his place, whatever that meant. Now Chapter 18 of the Gospel of Saint Matthew. What manner of child was this that stood there and quoted the Bible to him, even if taken out of context? And if this was no ordinary boy, what was his purpose? "Well, that may it be, you are both boys. That type of love is something to be expressed only between a man and woman who are married to each other." He could not believe he was having this conversation with a child. "But Peter said, `Seeing ye have purified your souls in obeying the truth through the Spirit unto unfeigned love of the brethren, see that ye love one another with a pure heart fervently'," Ramon said, not sure what that meant but having heard his mother say that when asked about his uncle liking guys instead of girls which usually shut people up. Now the Epistle of Peter! What next? The boy paused for a moment and then looked up, as if concentrating, or, perhaps listening? Jonathan was afraid to raise his eyes. "But let me show you with deeds, not with my words, so you might understand and believe," Ramon said, the words having formed in his head. Turning to Jonah once again, he again pressed his lips against his and pulled his shirt out of his trousers. "Let's get naked." "Stop!" Jonathan shouted, getting to his feet. "I don't know what is going on here, but this is enough." As Ramon ignored him and began to unbutton Jonah's shirt, Jonathan stepped forward and placed his hand on his shoulder to spin him around. It was not just God who appeared in many forms on Earth, and it was evident now who this child was. What better way to deceive him and to catch him off guard than in the guise of an innocent child? "Leave them be," said the stranger, stepping between Jonathan and Ramon. "Just who are you, and what are you doing here?" "Who I am doesn't matter. As for what I'm doing here, I'm here to stop you from interfering with what these boys have to do." "Then you are a minion of the devil," retorted Jonathan as he tried to push past the man. He was ten years younger, and in remarkable shape. Opening up the case he'd brought with him, he soon had the preacher handcuffed to the first pew. "Uncuff me this instant!" demanded Jonathan. "This is a House of God! You will pay for this indignity!" Taking out a cock gag, Jacob inserted the rubber penis in the man's mouth and strapped the gag tightly around his head. Jonathan lashed out with his feet and tried to leap up out of the pew. Ripping off his trousers and his boxers, Jacob roughly pulled him to the edge of the seat and threw his legs up in the air, and taking out a leg spreader from his bag of toys, he extended it and attached it to the flailing man's legs and tied the ends to the pew so that his legs were spread apart and raised above his head like a whore's. Finally, he took out a buttplug shaped like a cock, lubed it, and shoved it up the preacher's asshole and strapped it into place. He stepped back and looked down at the flushed, struggling man. It was a position he'd seen in many porno videos and photographs, and was a bit surprised it was the position he'd remembered and chosen to tie the man up in. Jonah and Ramon looked over at the preacher staring at them between his outspread legs red-faced with shame and with anger. The two boys were taken back by Jacob's roughness and the humiliating position the preacher was in, and a little frightened though they' known Jonah's father would likely have to be restrained. Jonah was particularly concerned of course, it being his father who was naked from the waist down and tied up in such an indecent pose, but Cory had said to trust Ramon, and he knew he could trust Mister Schuller from the fun time he'd had at his home thanks to Cory, and he especially knew he could trust Cory. Exchanging glances to see if the other wanted to continue, and seeing from the look in each other's eyes that the other was, the two boys resumed stripping each other. Standing there totally naked before the altar, the two young boys, seven-year-old Jonah and ten-year-old Ramon, kissed and caressed each other, the younger boy taking the lead of the older. Their sweet, tender lips met and as Jonah felt Ramon's tongue enter his mouth, his dicky began to swell in response to his first French kiss. As Ramon's tongue caressed his and the tip ran along the inside of his gums, he caressed Ramon's back, running his hands along the boy's firm deltoids and down to his waist and back up, his soft, pink hands contrasting with the young Puerto Rican's bean-brown skin. When Ramon finally removed his tongue, Jonah's followed, and he found his dicky swelling even more as he inserted his tongue into his new friend's hot, spit-filled mouth. Ramon ran his fingertips over Jonah's smooth chest, still rounded and soft with baby fat, and he encircled his nipples, tracing a circle about both with his fingertips, circles that drew tighter and tighter until he gently ran his fingertips over the two tiny buds, sending a thrill of pleasure until then totally unknown to the seven-year-old through them. Jonah trembled and sucked in his breath, locking his lips with Ramon's with his tongue firmly sucked into the older boy's mouth as the strange new thrills, as pleasant and as arousing as the thrills he only six months ago had discovered he could create by playing with his dicky, rippled through his tender little nips. Speaking of his dicky, it was now jutting up in the air stiff and aching for attention, as was Ramon's, obscene evidence that even at their tender age they felt lust. Three years older, Ramon's was thicker and longer than Jonah's, and of course a reddish brown like the rest of his body compared to the light pink of the younger boy's member, a little Puerto Rican pork sausage and a little cocktail weenie. As the two boys kissed and caressed each other, the tips of their stiff cocklets brushed against each other's smooth, flat belly. Reaching down, Ramon began to caress the smooth buttocks of the younger boy, and again following the older boy, Jonah did the same, squeezing and caressing the dark-skinned globes of his mentor. Then, taking the lead, he ran his middle finger up the older boy's smooth crack, and finding his hairless little pucker, he caressed it with his fingertip. Ramon of course quickly opened up to him, and Jonah slowly inserted the tip of his finger into the dank, moist hole of the older boy. This time the older boy followed the lead of the younger, and as he felt the seven-year-old slowly sink his middle finger up his ass, he similarly ran his along the boy's smooth crack and caressed the boy's pink little pucker with his fingertip. Jonah too immediately opened up to the probing finger, telling the older boy that this was not the first time the boy had felt a finger up his asshole. He slowly inserted his finger up to the last knuckle, and as he slowly began to finger fuck him Jonah rested his head against the older boy's smooth, bony chest and closed his eyes with the pleasure pulsating through his rectum and causing his dicky to jerk and itch with desire. The pleasure the two young boys were feeling, and the love pulsating from their hot, naked bodies, was undeniable and nobody needed a headband to tell. Jacob Schuller stood there wishing he'd brought along a cam recorder as his stiff cock throbbed and ached in his trousers. He could make a killing on the black market with a video of these two cute young boys. Unbeknownst to him, Cory had the foresight to have brought his, not with the intent of selling it, but to use it for some hot jerking sessions, and of course to record the event for posterity for young Jonah and for Ramon. He zoomed in on the finger easing in and out of each boy's ass, the two fingers slick and glistening with ass slime, and then up to the faces of the two young boys, their eyes closed and lips curled with sexual pleasure. He panned out and then zoomed in on Jacob Schuller, the thirty-year-old German teacher's desire and lust evident in his eyes and in the bulge in his trousers. He then panned over to the preacher exposed, bound and gagged in the front pew, staring at his young son and the young Puerto Rican boy, at their stiff little dickies, at their fingers easing in and out of each other's hole. He could not deny the evidence of their pleasure as their hairless little cocklets jerked about with excitement. A combination of disgust from long-held beliefs instilled in him since his own childhood and of lust instilled in him through Cory's much more recent intrusions into his mind was reflected in the look on his face and the look in his eyes. Disgusted and incensed by their lewd act but finding it disturbingly arousing, he wanted to look away but he could not. The two boys dropped to the floor and as Jonah lay on his back Ramon began to kiss him, working his way down his neck and along his chest, stopping to lick and kiss and suck the boy's tender nipples until they were as rigid and aching as his little cocklet and the boy was squirming on the floor like a snake. He continued down, down along his ribs to his belly button where he tongued the depression and sent the seven-year-old into spasms of ecstasy once again, and then along his flat stomach and naked pubes to his stiff, aching dicky. Swinging around so they were head to toe, or more appropriately, head to cock, he slipped his lips over the slender, velvet smooth cocklet and gently sucked on it as he bathed it with his spittle. Jonah, with Ramon's stiff cock sticking up before his eyes, readily opened his lips and slipped them over the ten-year-old's aching bean-brown sausage. It was not his first experience at sucking cock, having in the past six months sucked off grown men, preadolescent and teenage boys, and having been sucked off himself, but it was his first sixty-nine experience, and he found it was twice as pleasurable having his own cocklet sucked while he was sucking the other guy's. Looking down at them from up above, Cory knew exactly how Jonah was feeling and he didn't need any headband to tell him. He himself had been the recipient of one of Ramon's blow jobs, and he knew that the boy would give young Jonah a far hotter blow job than the boy had ever yet received, and would bring him to his peak several times before bringing him off. He could not think of a more deserving recipient. He didn't need his headband to tell how Jacob Schuller was feeling either. Although he was thirty and had been peddling porn for over ten years and had been studying abnormal sexual behaviour for just as long, his sexual experiences had been limited and until recently he'd smugly considered himself above the carnal lusts of those men he studied, past and present. Meeting Cory had changed all that and at the moment he was standing there just as horny as some schoolboy as he watched the two youngsters eagerly going down on each other. Cory had known that the man's collection of toys and his knowledge of bondage would come in handy that afternoon, and he knew the man would be a willing participant having already sampled the delights that Jonah could provide. As for Jonathan Winthrop, the man's torment was evident on his tortured face. He was lying there bound and obscenely gagged with a buttplug shoved up his ass in his own church while before his very eyes his youngest son was being seduced. Despite all he'd been told and popular belief that a boy his age had to be forced or drugged to engage in sex with another boy, his son was engaging in the perverted act willingly and with evident pleasure. His own son, whom he'd raised to fear God and himself. If what he'd been taught and believed was true, it should not be so. Even more disturbing were his own thoughts and the feelings he himself was experiencing. It was a filthy and sinful act that the two young boys were engaged in, and yet he could not help feeling a sense of arousal knowing the pleasure the two boys were feeling between their legs. As much as he believed that sex should only be between a man and woman, and only for procreation, he could not deny that sex was pleasurable nor that the two young boys were experiencing pleasure, a very intense pleasure. As Jonah felt himself approaching that strange and wonderful peak of ultimate physical pleasure for the third time, he trembled and ached for it to happen like he'd never ached before. Never had he had that pleasure postponed for so long and so frequently, and never had his little dicky felt so swollen nor ached so badly. Following Ramon's lead again, he'd copied his actions, sucking and working his lips up and down his swollen dink, relishing the unique taste and fragrance of the Puerto Rican boy's bean-brown sausage, and pausing and clamping his lips tight below his knob to quell the desire that he knew was also welling up between the boy's legs. Now, as he approached his orgasm for the third time he hoped that Ramon would not stop it again. He ached for it so badly it hurt, and yet the throbbing and tingling between his legs was so pleasant it was making his whole body tingle. And then it happened. He felt the familiar twang he'd been aching for deep in his loins and his leg quivered and spasmed as the first jolt of pleasure shot up his swollen dicky, quickly followed by another and then another. As wave after wave of pleasure struck him, he felt Ramon groan and his dick seemed to swell and pulsate rapidly as he too reached his peak, his dry orgasm shooting through his loins and up his swollen cocklet with the same intensity and pleasure. What was happening to the two boys was evident and again undeniable proof of the sexuality of young boys, and the pleasure a boy can find in another despite public opinion. Jacob Schuller was close to creaming his underwear as his aching cock throbbed and strained inside his trousers and pre-cum oozed out the tip and soaked into his boxers as he witnessed the pleasure of the two boys and still another real life experience was added to his growing knowledge about was labelled as abnormal behaviour, thanks again to Cory Wilson. High above, Cory was so dizzy with the pleasure assaulting his mind, his own pleasure from his own swollen, leaking cock combined with the intense physical pleasure of the two boys sucking deeply on each other's throbbing cock and Jacob Schuller's pleasure just watching the two boys being picked up by his headband, that he almost fell out of the niche under the vaulted dome in which he was hiding. Only Pastor Jonathan Winthrop could look upon the two squirming boys and see it as something perverted, sinful and disgusting, feelings easily picked up by Cory through his headband in the emotionally-charged church. The two boys lay there for a long time enjoying their combined pleasure, the physical pleasure throbbing through their hot, naked bodies, and the mental pleasure of knowing he was responsible for the pleasure the other boy was feeling. They finally separated and rolled over on their backs and stared up at the vaulted ceiling as their thin chests rose and fell with their laboured breathing. "That was awesome," Jonah finally sighed as he lay there flushed and dazed. "Would you like to show Mister Schuller what love is really like?" Ramon asked. "Sure," Jonah replied with a grin as he looked up at the evidently aroused German teacher. The man had been kind to him at his house when he and Anton Gilles had gone to his place to play and he was eager to show him his appreciation. Besides, the man was one of Cory's friends, and that was reason enough to make him feel as good as Ramon had made him feel. Jacob Schuller was torn between stopping the youngster from performing the lewd and illegal act or allowing him to proceed and do what he clearly wanted to do as he shuffled over to him on his knees. It was wrong, and even more so there in a church, and still even more so in front of his father. Four months ago there had been no doubt in his mind about that, but since meeting Cory what was right and what was wrong was no longer so black and white. As for the church, he'd always had mixed feelings about the good it did and the harm, and as for engaging in sex with a seven-year-old boy in front of his father, he was beginning to see how a man could desire such an act. Besides, Cory had said the man whipped his boy, and that was not an act he could condone. The man deserved what was happening. Reaching up and pulling down Jacob Schuller's fly, Jonah unbuckled his belt and unhooked the clasp of his trousers. As he pulled down Jacob's pants, the man's arousal was evident from the way his boxers were sticking out, and from the large wet spot in the front. His protruding cock caught on his boxers as Jonah tried to pull them down and the boy had to struggle to free them from the stiff, unyielding poker, revealing his innocence and youthfulness. When he finally managed to get his boxers free, his cock jutted up in the air, slick with pre-cum and rigid with arousal. Although it was not the first time he'd seen it, Jonah marvelled at the man's size, and Ramon, no stranger to man cock admired it openly as only a boy who'd been raised to see no sin in what they were doing could. Jonah had been raised in a totally opposite environment, but he loved pleasing others, especially men, and he loved the pleasure he got from his own dicky so he knew even at the age of seven that a sure way to bring pleasure to men was through that mysterious and delightful appendage hanging between their legs. As he knelt there admiring the man's cock, knowing the pleasure he felt with his little dicky, he could only imagine how immense the pleasure must be for a man with a dicky so much larger. Jacob Schuller was well hung, and as the seven-year-old boy wrapped his fingers about the base of his stiff cock, his fingertips didn't quite meet. His shaft and knob were glistening and sticky with pre-cum and Jonah stared at it with unabashed curiosity. Then, sticking out his tongue, he ran the tip up the shaft of the thick, hot cock, licking up the sweetish clear sap and causing another bubble to form at the tip of the long, throbbing cock. Slipping his tongue in his mouth and savouring the sticky glue coating it with the curiosity and delight of a seven-year-old, he stuck his tongue out once again and ran the tip along the groove on the underside of the man's cock and up to the tip to lap up the latest dripping. Jacob Schuller was in ecstasy as he stood there before the altar, the blond-haired, blue-eyed cherub on his knees before him and eagerly and willingly licking the pre-cum from his aching, throbbing cock. As he watched the sweet-faced boy slowly slip his tender lips over his knob until it was engulfed, it was all he could do to prevent himself from cumming right then and there. Jonah knew how hot the man was and immediately clamped his smooth lips down below the knob tightly, cutting off his desire to shoot. He knelt like that a long time as he'd just learned from Ramon, and then proceeded to gently suck on the organ as he slowly worked his lips and up and down the shaft. Jacob had found getting blown by Anton Gilles the hottest thing he'd ever experienced, but now, standing there in the Riverside Evangelical Baptist Church being sucked off by the blond-haired seven-year-old son of the Pastor, who was handcuffed beside him to the first pew, he could not believe he could possibly engage in anything hotter. Jonah sucked deeply on the stiff organ in his mouth and worked his lips up and down the shaft slowly, pausing frequently to swirl his hot, moist tongue over the man's knob and along the sensitive rim, causing him to tremble and moan with the exquisite pleasure, and pausing frequently and clamping his lips below the man's blood-engorged knob to quell his desire to shoot off. He'd learned well from Ramon, who stood there beside them watching approvingly, his slender, hairless dick slowly beginning to rise once again. Jonathan Winthrop could not believe what was happening. His seven-year-old son was kneeling there willingly and enthusiastically sucking the stiff cock of a stranger, he and the brown-skinned boy whom he had never seen before both stark naked and both once again sporting erections themselves. Why had the devil targeted him and his family for such obscene and unusual punishment? As he half sat and half lay there in the pew, his legs obscenely spread and raised over his head and his naked ass hanging over the edge of the seat, he could think of several reasons. His sermons and his petitions and letter writing to the newspaper and to politicians against the gay community and especially against gay marriages, his stand on pornography and the growing acceptance of the portrayal of sex in print and on television and movies, and his active role in condemning the child molester and paedophile Bob Moser had evidently been perceived as being dangerous to the designs of Satan even if the people of Riverside ignored his warnings about the gay agenda and porn and the courts had wrongfully cleared Moser of all charges. What other reason would the Prince of Darkness have singled him out for such foul and sickening treatment than if he saw him as a threat? Well, if the devil thought he could win this way by seducing and perverting his son before his very eyes, he was sorely mistaken. He scowled with anger and in defiance as the stranger the coloured boy had called Mister Schuller threw back his head and trembled violently as he finally released his load and Jonah eagerly swallowed his seed. His eyes blazed with hatred for the Prince of Evil as he watched his son eagerly swallow the man's vile offering and as the man in his lust filled his young son's mouth to overflowing so that his seed oozed out from between his puckered lips and down and around his chin. The foul, perverted scene hardened his resolve to fight the gay menace spreading through his community and through his country and especially those men who sought delight in perverting and having their way with children. "You still don't see the love in what you are witnessing, do you?" asked Ramon, addressing the trussed up preacher. "You think such love as this is the work of the devil, not of God, don't you?" he asked, the two questions he'd asked having come to his mind of course by way of Cory picking up the Reverend's thoughts and relaying them to Ramon. So close were the two boys in contact in the sex-charged atmosphere that Cory easily transferred the minister's thoughts and his own and Ramon easily accepted them as his own observations and his own thoughts. "Love?" snapped Reverend Winthrop, glaring at him with his cold blue eyes. He looked even more hawkish and sterner than he ever did despite his obscene position. "That is filth that I have seen, not love." "I guess that shouldn't be a surprise since your idea of love is whipping your son's backside with a willow branch should it?" Ramon asked. When he'd come to seek his help, Cory had told him about the Reverend whipping his son to beat the evil out of him. Now as that fact was raised in his memory and the decision to voice the question was relayed by Cory it was as if it were his own decision to ask it. His own anger over what the man did to his son was doubled when combined with Cory's anger which Cory inadvertently pinged Ramon with, causing his eyes to flash with as much anger as the Reverend's. "Spare the rod and spoil the child," Jonathan retorted. "Yes, what I have done has been in love, love for my boy and the determination and faith that I can drive out the devil who would possess him." "And do you consider yourself possessed?" Ramon asked, Cory knowing full well that the man did as he pinged Ramon with the thought. "Yes. But I will not yield. I will not foreswear my beliefs and principles no matter what you do to me or my family." There was no question about his determination, his anger and resoluteness practically knocking Cory from the recess in which he was hiding as he picked up the man's thoughts. These beliefs and principles were deep and long-held, going back in many cases to the man's own childhood. "Then by your own definition of love, you would have no problem with your son whipping the devil out of you, would you?" asked Ramon. He really had no idea why such thoughts were coming into his head, but they seemed logical, and he was incensed by the idea any man would hurt a boy, and especially that a father would hurt his son. Jonathan Winthrop didn't answer as the man the boy had called Mister Schuller almost moving robotically as if in a daze removed the belt from his trousers that he'd dropped on the floor after ripping them from his body, and handed it to Jonah. Jonah hesitated, struggling with his conscience, the one side telling him this was his father and that it was wrong to strike him no matter what he'd done, and in fact it was wrong to strike any man, and the other side, which sounded remarkably like Cory's voice, telling him that his father had beaten him supposedly out of love, and that if he really loved his father, and wanted his love and attention, then he had to treat him as he'd been treated. Jonah slowly drew back the belt. That was after all part of the Lord's prayer, to do unto others as you would have others do unto you. His father had beat him with that very belt. Jonathan winced with the pain as the leather belt smacked against his upraised and naked backside. Jacob Schuller suddenly stopped the boy, and as he approached, the Reverend thought for a moment that the man had finally come to his senses. Unstrapping the buttplug and pulling it out with a pop, he undid the cock gag and before Jonathan could say anything, exchanged it with the buttplug, inserting the shit-smeared rubber penis into his mouth and buckling it into place. He stepped back with that same stunned look, as if surprised by his actions. Actually, from all the porn he'd seen and all he'd read about abnormal sexual behaviour, that the idea had suddenly popped into his head had not been a surprise. That he'd acted on the idea, on the other hand, was. As Jonah continued to whip his ass with his belt, Jonathan bit down on the buttplug with pain, his mouth filling with spittle that oozed down his throat and out from the corners of his mouth, bubbly and rich brown from the shit and slime from his asshole that coated the plug. He almost gagged on the foul taste as the absurd thought that he deserved it suddenly popped into his mind. Over and over Jonah whipped his backside as if the boy was in a trance until his buttocks were glowing a bright red and felt as if they were on fire. He could sense the boy's anger and his belief that he beating the evil out of him just as he'd tried to beat the evil out of the boy as if the boy's thoughts were his own. At last he dropped the belt and accepted the whip that Jacob Schuller handed him from the black case he'd brought. There was no hesitation in his eyes, no doubt, as he gazed down at his father and thought about the hundreds of times his father had struck his backside with the willow branch, a thought that Cory picked up and transferred to his father. For that moment Jonathan Winthrop knew exactly how his son had felt during those frenzied whippings. And then the whip landed and that thought was replaced with searing pain ripping through his already painful ass. Jonathan winced with the sharp pain each time the whip lashed into his tender, sensitized cheeks. Despite the pain his resolve only became stronger, much to Cory's surprise as he perched up in the recess under the dome of the church, his mind linked with the preacher's so closely he could feel the preacher's pain as if it were his own. To block out the searing pain, Cory called up the greatest pleasures he could remember, his revenge on Goosey and his sons these past six months, fucking Goosey's wife and getting her pregnant, taking Dominic's prune, the fun he and Ben had with his mother, the hot night he'd spent with Ramon. He thought of the pleasures that had pulsated through his body and through his cock, and with each whip of the lash and flash of pain he pinged the Reverend back with a blast of pure sexual pleasure. It was like two powers battling in some video game or some epic movie, good vs evil, his pleasure vs the Reverend's pain, his delight in all things sexual and the Reverend's twisted version of sexual morality and propriety. As the whip repeatedly lashed the Reverend's tender ass until it was criss-crossed with red lashes, along with the searing pain in his backside he felt a growing lust in his loins. As his asscheeks burned and ached with a deep pain, so did his dickhead as his cock slowly rose in response to the feelings of lust. Whipping his boy had been done in love. Being whipped by his boy was being done in love too. Thirty-five years ago his own father had whipped him as a six-year-old boy in need of training in love too. Sometimes you had to hurt the ones you loved. Pain was pleasure. He loved the way his ass was smarting. It had given him a hardon. Love was lust. How else could he explain getting hard? The thoughts didn't make sense. They were jumbled and striking him without a moment to consider them, hitting like machine gun fire. He knew he was fighting with Satan who was trying to take control of his mind and he gritted his teeth, biting into the shit-smeared buttplug and sucking on it, sucking on the shit-coated rubber prick and swallowing the foul brown spittle as his ass burned and his cock throbbed and his mind and body were filled with undescribable pleasure. He was going mad. He fought hard but his thoughts blurred as if the devil himself was in his mind and he could feel himself losing and he could hear the devil's shouts of triumph in his mind, his shouts like that of a young boy. At some point, he was not sure when exactly in comparison to when the real event stopped, but he became aware that it had and that Jonah was standing there between his legs, looking down at him, his face filled with love and concern and worry, and with carnal lust. As he looked up at his blond-haired, blue-eyed son, he was slowly aware that his shirt had been ripped open and that his anus was being prodded, prodded by something hard and hot. As he opened up, he felt something hard and slender penetrate him, something barely more than the thickness and length of a finger. Ever so slowly he realized it was his own son, and it was not his finger that had entered his body. He looked up at him, his forehead beaded with sweat and his fine blond locks plastered to it, his eyes closed, the cloth-draped pulpit behind him, and beyond that the stained glass window with the sun still beaming in through it and down upon them. He closed his eyes but the image remained just as sharp and clear. He tried to block out his son's rhythmic, laboured breathing but he could not, and he found his own breath being sucked in and expelled just as deeply and in time with his son's. He tried to block out the throbbing pleasure of his anus as his son's little dicklet pumped in and out of it, but he could not, and the harder he tried the stronger those feelings became until he could think of nothing else but the hot, pleasurable throbbing of his anus, the throbbing of his son's little cocklet as it worked in and out of his body, the pleasure of having a stiff, aching cock surrounded by hot, moist flesh, the pounding of blood through the slender shaft and the little knob still encased in its tight foreskin, just as his blood was throbbing through his own stiff, aching cock. His bone was throbbing in time with his son's and in time with his rectum, jerking as his son stabbed his little cocklet repeatedly up his rectum, bringing them both closer and closer to that blissful point of orgasm, that most pleasurable feeling a man can feel, that most pleasurable feeling a man can share, that most personal, pleasurable, wonderful thing a father can share with his son. That was love. Getting off together, father and son, united in an undeniable act of love. Jonathan Winthrop trembled with pleasure and with fear as the foreign thoughts repeated over and over in his mind, assaulting his mind as his son was assaulting his asshole, thoughts and vulgar words he knew were not his but thoughts that rang so true and convincing, pulsating through his mind just as the blood was pulsating through his rectum and through his stiff, aching cock and through his son's stiff, aching cock up his rectum. Son and father united in that perverse act of love, united in the same feeling of ecstasy that only the male can know. And then he was jerking and spasming with his climax, his stiff cock waving about wildly as it flung his seed in the air, the hot, thick, slimy streamers striking his chest and his face as his son trembled and gasped with his own dry orgasm, his naked seven-year-old son. The two of them getting off together, father and son, that was love. Staring at his son's sweat-stained, flushed face in a daze, he was vaguely aware of being unbound and he dropped off the pew to kneel on the floor before his son there before the altar. He loved his son. He loved him more than anything else, even more than his wife. He'd never had an orgasm as pleasurable with her as he'd had with him. Sex with his wife was a duty. Sex with his son was a pleasure. The thoughts were perverse and wrong, so very wrong. Yet he found himself being drawn to the boy. As if controlled by another his hands reached up and grasped the boy by his thin waist and his mouth opened as he bowed his head. Struggling with disgust and revulsion and lust and love, he began to suck on his son's hard little cocklet, sucking his shit from his boy's stiff little cock, the cock that had just fucked him to his climax. Those were not his thoughts. That was not his vocabulary. With each breath he drew in he found his desire growing, his delight more intense. Why fight when it was so pleasurable? He sucked on the boy's slender dicky eagerly, hungrily, pleasing the boy and pleasing himself, sucking the boy with love, with desire. He turned the boy around and sucked on his sweet asshole, something he'd been aching to do for the past two weeks. He ran his tongue in the boy's tender, fresh pucker, forcing his tongue into the dank depths of his bowls and rimming him, licking out his shit, eating his ass, sending spasms of pleasure through the boy. Why had he waited so long for this? Why had he resisted? This was love. Not the beatings, the beatings of his son, the beatings he'd received from his father as a boy. That had been the work of Satan, not this. This was the work of God, showing him the true love of a father for a son. It was so simple, that love was nothing more than bringing another pleasure. With that thought he collapsed there before the altar in total exhaustion, his lips glistening with his spittle and his son's shit and ass slime, his face and chest spattered with his seed, his cock still erect. High above in the recess below the dome Cory too collapsed, exhausted but filled with a sense of pleasure and accomplishment. It had been a hard battle, combatting years of false beliefs and deeply held principles, more mentally draining than anything he'd yet done, but he owed it to Jonah, and to Ramon and Jacob Schuller. The man had to be taught the truth about love. He could only hope that he'd been successful. As he lay there, catching his breath, he did not see the aurora of pulsating purple and blue surrounding father and son below him. Nor did he see the Reverend's wife standing at the door in shock at the scene before her. ************* I hope you enjoyed this chapter. What else would you like to see happen? What further fun and havoc can Cory create with his growing awareness of the power of his great-grandfather's headband? Have you ever had someone you hated and wanted to get even with? Email me your idea and I'll write it as part of this story and if you wish add you as one of the characters. Anything goes, the hotter and more perverted the better, except I don't write snuff and torture of kids and anything involving player characters will need their collaboration. Non player characters available for your amusement and abuse include the Gilles family, Vice Principal Stewart Millburne, Baptist Pastor Winthrop and his family, Kenneth Ballard and his mother, Father Henry, Calvin Cosher and his daughter Stacey, the WCHS gang, the 14 RGAB soccer players and their families, the cops Eric O'Malley and Mike Polanski, and Anton's RGAB classmates. Player characters created by readers so far are Dominic, Terry, Anthony, Bob, Billy Dean, Ben Hanson, Jacob Schuller, Benji Gilles and Callie Dean with a supporting cast of Jonah Winthrop, Lane and Spence, Nicole Halder, Molly, Trang and Ashley, Nick Dawson, Nat and Darien Wilson, Emma and Elijah Dean, Aunt Rosa and Uncle Rafael, Juanita, Luther, and Lucy, Ramon Carlos, the nerds of Lincoln Junior High (Fats Fortillini, Peter Manchester, Dwayne Hainsworth, Jerome Eisenstein, Wilbur Thornton and Dylan Ingles) and of course Lad, Rocky, Shep, Dobe and the star of the series, Cory Wilson. __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Tired of spam? Yahoo! Mail has the best spam protection around http://mail.yahoo.com -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>| | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> | |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}| +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+