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Subject: {ASSM} "Teacher - Part 52" (nc, mc, m/b, b/b)
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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. 

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-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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