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Here's Chapter 6 of Brandon's adventures.
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Over the next few weeks, Brandon continued to break records and win medals in various swimming competitions. As his success grew, so did his popularity among the lecherous old men who couldn't resist being around him. Despite his initial disgust and attempts to resist their advances, Brandon found himself increasingly drawn to the power he held over them.
Brandon's experiences with the control he wielded over these lecherous, aged men had grown into an addiction, their worshipful gazes fueling a deep-seated pleasure within him. Yet, there is a small part of him that yearned for release from this bizarre cycle of desire. He knew he had to find a way to resist the pull of this perverse world that seemed to ensnare him at every turn.
As these thoughts swirled in his mind, the distant tolling of church bells echoed through the serene suburban street, a stark reminder of the calm and peace he felt was slipping away from him. It seemed like an eternity since he last stepped foot inside a church, and the memories of his childhood flooded back to him. The scent of incense, the melodious chanting, and the cool, dark interior had always provided a sense of comfort and solace in times of distress. Perhaps he could speak to a religious figure of authority who could provide some guidance as he grappled with the confusing desires that Coach Thompson had awakened in him.
As Brandon entered the church, he looked around at the empty hall and sat down on a pew. Sitting in the quiet, Brandon's heart raced as he recalled the intense experiences he had with Coach Thompson, Mr Steamback, Mr. Jenkins, Uncle Leong and all the other men that suddenly appeared in his life. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine he would find pleasure in the company of older men, let alone be addicted to their desires. He couldn’t shake off the feeling that he was being manipulated, but at the same time, the sense of power he felt whenever those lecherous eyes devoured his body was intoxicating.
Rev Father Johnson enjoyed the quiet afternoon of the church. As a 75 year old priest that has served in this parish for over 3 decades, Father Johnson knows this community very well, particularly the hundreds of alter boys that served over the years. As Father Johnson strolled through the large hall, he saw a muscular back of what looked like a sturdy fit young man. Father Johnson adjusted his glasses and his heart beat a little quicker as he walked towards Brandon. At the sound of Father Johnson's footsteps, Brandon turned around at and looked at the old priest standing over him with his handsome face and puppy dog eyes.
Seeing Brandon for the first time, Father Johnson's eyes widened as he took in the sight of Brandon, his mind racing with thoughts that were far from priestly. The young man's muscular frame and innocent gaze stirred something deep within him; he needed this stud and he needed him NOW.Â
"Can I help you, my son?" Father Johnson's voice was a husky whisper, his eyes locked onto Brandon's muscular frame.
Brandon hesitated, his gaze flickering around the empty church. "Hi, Father... Can I... seek your advice?"
Father Johnson nodded eagerly, inching closer. "Of course, my boy. But perhaps we could discuss this more intimately? In the sacristy, where we won't be disturbed."
Brandon's brow furrowed, a flicker of doubt crossing his features. "I don't know, Father. Is it really necessary to go somewhere so private?"
Father Johnson placed a lingering hand on Brandon's shoulder, his touch electric. "It's just that sometimes, certain matters require a more... confidential setting. Trust me, my son. It will be for the best."
Brandon swallowed hard, the weight of his recent experiences making him wary.
Father Johnson's heart pounded in his chest, desperation creeping into his voice. "It's a ...perfect spot for a private ...conversation."
Brandon stood up, his muscular frame in full view of the priest. "Alright, Father."
Father Johnson's face lit up with a leery smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Thank you, my boy. This way." As they walked towards the sacristy, Father Johnson couldn't help but imagine the possibilities that lay ahead and the thought of having this young stud alone in a private room was too tempting to resist.
As Father Johnson led Brandon to the sacristy, Brandon felt a wave of relief wash over him. He finally found someone that would be able to listen and allow him to pour his heart out without fear of judgment. “My son,” Father Johnson’s voice boomed through the small room in a show of false authority, “speak freely and God will guide us towards the path of righteousness.” Father Johnson began rubbing his hands in expectation.
Brandon took a deep breath and began to recount his story, starting with the first hypnosis session with Coach Thompson. He spoke of the lecherous art teacher, Mr. Jenkins, Uncle Leong, and all the old men who had taken advantage of his vulnerable state. Father Johnson listened intently, his breathing growing heavier as Brandon described the intense sexual encounters he had been pulled into.
“My sweet boy,” Father Johnson said, his tone laced with sympathy, “it seems you’ve fallen prey to the desires of these sinful men. They have corrupted your innocence and exploited your vulnerability. But fear not, for God’s love and forgiveness are boundless.”
Brandon felt tear begin to well up as he pathetically uttered, “But Father, I can’t seem to escape this world. I’m repulsed by it yet addicted to the power over these lecherous ugly old men... And I’m addicted to the sexual gratification at being worshipped by them.”
Father Johnson’s voice softened, “My child, addiction is a powerful force, but it can be overcome. Together, we will find a way to break these chains that bind you and guide you back onto the righteous path. But first, we must address the root of your addiction.”
Brandon nodded, feeling a glimmer of hope but as he noticed Father Johnson gazing at him with an intensity that hope quickly evaporated.
Father Johnson leaned in closer to Brandon, his eyes locked onto the teenager’s toned body. “My child, it seems to me that you have been through quite an ordeal. These men, they have taken advantage of your youth and innocence,” Father Johnson said an underlying tone of excitement. “However, I believe that there might be a way to turn this situation around.”
Brandon’s eyes widened apprehensively as he awaited Father Johnson’s guidance. The old priest’s words echoed in his mind, and he couldn’t shake off the feeling that Father Johnson was somehow reveling in the sexual exploits that Coach Thompson had put him through.
“My son,” Father Johnson continued, “I believe that in order to overcome this addiction, we must first understand it. We must delve into the depths of your desires and confront them head-on.”
Brandon felt his heart race as Father Johnson’s hands moved closer to his body. The old priest’s fingers first gently traced the outline of Brandon’s nipples through his tank top and then caressed his shorts, causing the teenager to shudder. “Father, I don’t think…” Brandon tried to protest, but his words were cut short by Father Johnson’s rebuke.
“Shhh, my child. Trust in me,” Father Johnson whispered as he continued to explore Brandon’s body. “You must let go of your inhibitions and embrace the pleasure that these men have given you. Only then will you be healed.”
Father Johnson cleared his throat, feigning concern. "My son, it's important to understand the full extent of your experiences. Sometimes, physical touch can help us process emotions more deeply." He reached out, his fingers trembling slightly as they hovered over Brandon's tank top. "May I?"
Brandon hesitated, his instincts screaming at him to pull away, but the priest's insistent gaze held him in place. "I... I guess," he stammered, his voice barely a whisper.
With a swift motion, Father Johnson pulled the fabric up, exposing Brandon's muscular chest. The teenager flinched as the cool air hit his skin, but the priest's hands were already moving, tracing imaginary lines across his pecs. "See, my boy, this is just a way for us to connect more intimately with your feelings," Father Johnson murmured, his voice dripping with false sincerity.
Brandon felt a mix of revulsion and arousal as the priest's fingers continued their exploration, dipping lower to circle his nipples. Each touch was calculated, sending shivers down Brandon's spine. "Father, please..." he began, but the old priest cut him off.
"Shh, trust me, my child. This is all part of the healing process," Father Johnson whispered, his hands now sliding down to caress Brandon's abs. The teenager's breath quickened, his body betraying him as it responded to the unwanted attention.
Father Johnson's eyes gleamed with a predatory light as he watched Brandon's reactions. "You see, my boy, by allowing me to touch you, you're reclaiming your power. You're taking back control from those who have exploited you." His words were a twisted logic, a justification for his own lecherous actions.
With Brandon looking confused but increasingly aroused, Father Johnson noticed the bulge forming in Brandon’s shorts and smiled deviously. “It seems that your body is eager to explore these desires further,” he said, his voice low and husky. “Allow me to guide you, my child.”
Brandon bowed his head in submission, his breath coming in ragged gasps as Father Johnson continued to touch him. The old priest’s hands moved expertly, twisting Brandon's nipples and fondling Brandon's cock through his shorts, eliciting moans of pleasure from Brandon’s lips. As Father Johnson leaned in for a kiss, Brandon couldn’t help but wonder if he was truly being set free from his addiction or if he was simply falling deeper into its grasp.
In that moment, Father Johnson made a mental note to get in touch with all the old lecherous men who had been involved in Brandon’s life thus far. He schemed a way to bring them all together, perhaps in some sort of twisted rehabilitation program. After all, if Brandon’s addiction could be turned into a tool for their pleasure, there was no telling what could be accomplished.
As Father Johnson continued to explore Brandon’s body, the teenager found himself on the brink of surrender. He knew that he should resist, that he should fight against the allure of these older men and their perverse desires. But as he felt Father Johnson’s hands on his skin, as he tasted the priest’s lips on his own, Brandon knew that he was lost and he desired to be worshipped once again. The power that these men held over him was simply too great, too intoxicating. With a heavy throb, Brandon’s cock jutted straight from his groin trying to break free from the thin fabric of Brandon's shorts, craving the attention of Father Johnson’s hands. The old priest seemed to know exactly what Brandon needed, as if he could read his mind. Still, the conflicting emotions raged within Brandon. He wanted to break free from the addiction to these lecherous men, yet he found himself longing for their touch, their possession.
Father Johnson stood triumphantly over Brandon, ushered him to the bed and told him to lay down. Father Johnson proclaimed with conviction, “My son, to be free from your sins, you must give in to the desires of the men who seek you out. Only then can you be cleansed.” Suddenly, Father Johnson cuffed Brandon's wrists and ankles to the bedposts. His lecherous gaze devoured every inch of Brandon’s vulnerable body.
"What are you doing, Father?"
Brandon struggled against the restraints, but they held him firmly in place. He felt a surge of panic as he realized there was no escaping the perverted priest's twisted desires.
Father Johnson's hands roamed over Brandon's body, tracing the outline of his toned muscles. "You are so strong, so powerful," he said, his voice husky with desire. "But even the mightiest of men must submit to the will of God." With that, he grabbed the scissors from the nightstand and began cutting away at Brandon's shorts. The fabric gave way easily, falling apart in tattered pieces.
"No!" Brandon cried out, humiliation burning in his cheeks. "Please stop!!" But his protests fell on deaf ears, as Father Johnson continued to explore his body with eager hands.
"Be still, my child," Father Johnson said, his lips brushing against Brandon's ear. "Resistance only prolongs your suffering. Accept your fate and embrace the pleasure I am about to give you." His fingers dug into Brandon's hips, holding him in place.
Brandon closed his eyes, trying to block out the reality of the situation. But the sensations were too intense, and despite his efforts to resist, he felt his arousal growing. Father Johnson noticed the change in Brandon's body, and a smile spread across his face.
"See? Your body craves this," Father Johnson murmured, his voice dripping with a perverse sense of victory. "It thirsts for the experienced touch of an elder. You've confessed it yourself—your longing for the unique release that only we, seasoned in life's pleasures, can offer. Embrace it, my son, for through this act of submission, you shall find purification."
He leaned closer, his tongue licking Brandon's lips and mouth before he continued his twisted sermon. "Each time you spill your seed under my guidance, each time you succumb to the desires awakened by these men, you chip away at the chains that bind you. This is not merely indulgence; it is liberation. Through repeated surrender, you will gradually cleanse your soul of the taint that clings to it."
Father Johnson's hands moved with deliberate intent, one stroking Brandon's cock with a practiced rhythm, while the other tweaked and twisted his nipples, sending jolts of pleasure-pain through his body. "Feel the power in your submission, Brandon. Each gasp, each moan, each shuddering climax brings you closer to freedom. Let go, let yourself be consumed by the ecstasy I now provide. Only then will you truly understand the path to redemption."
Brandon's heart pounded wildly in his chest, a mix of terror and arousal swirling within him. The priest's words, though cloaked in religious rhetoric, were a thinly veiled justification for his own lustful desires. Yet, despite the clear manipulation, a part of Brandon found himself inexplicably drawn to the promise of release, the allure of being freed from his own conflicted desires through the very acts he sought to escape.
Suddenly, Father Johnson shifted his position, his face now hovering over Brandon’s crotch. He grasped Brandon’s throbbing member and began to suck on it with an intensity that surprised the young man. Brandon couldn’t stop himself from moaning as Father Johnson’s mouth worked its magic on his aching veiny cock. The priest’s hands roamed over Brandon’s body, exploring every inch of his skin. His nimble fingers continued to pinch and twist Brandon’s nipples, sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout his body.
As Brandon felt himself approach climax, he opened his eyes and looked into Father Johnson’s. The old priest smiled, his eyes filled with lust and triumph. With a final thrust, Brandon released his pent-up desire into Father Johnson’s waiting mouth. The priest swallowed greedily, savoring every drop of his seed. Brandon felt drained, as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. But even as he lay there, panting and spent, he knew that this was only the beginning.
Father Johnson wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smearing a trace of Brandon’s semen across his cheek. He looked at his naked conquest, bound and vulnerable on the bed, and knew he needed more than one ejaculation to quench his lecherous thirst.
As Brandon lay panting on the bed, his body still tingling from the intense release Father Johnson had given him, he couldn't help but feel a sense of dread. He knew that this was only the beginning and that the priest would continue to use him for his own twisted desires.
Father Johnson crawled up next to Brandon, his breath hot and smelling of Brandon's cum. "You see, my child, you have been chosen by God to please old men," he said in a low voice, his words chosen carefully. "Your body is a temple, and it must be regularly worshipped and cleansed."
Brandon turned his head to look at the priest, confusion and disbelief clouding his features. He asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "God wouldn't want me to do this?"
Father Johnson smiled, an eerie light dancing in his eyes. "Oh, but He does," he said with a nod. "Old men like me, we have spent our lives serving Him, and now it is time for us to receive His blessings. And you, my dear Brandon, are the vessel through which we will receive those blessings. This is your destiny, whether you like it or not."
Father Johnson placed his head on Brandon's chest and he circled his wrinkled finger around Brandon's nipple in a perverse post-coital cuddle. Brandon felt the warmth of Father Johnson's touch on his skin, he couldn't help but feel a sense of defeat wash over him. He knew there was no escaping the priest's twisted desires, and as much as he hated to admit it, he felt strangely drawn to the pleasure he experienced in the old man's hands.
"But why me?" Brandon asked, his voice barely a whisper.
Father Johnson leaned in close, his tongue now in Brandon's ear. "Because, my dear boy," he said softly, "you have the power to make old men feel young again. You have the ability to bring them joy and pleasure unlike anything they've ever experienced. And in return, they will give you the one thing you've always craved: power and adoration."
With that, Father Johnson moved his attention to Brandon's nipples, his fingers circling the sensitive buds while his tongue darted out to taste their salty sweetness. Brandon moaned softly, his eyes fluttering closed as he gave himself over to the sensations coursing through his body. He knew that resisting the priest was futile; the old man's touch had an intoxicating effect on him, making him crave more of the forbidden pleasure.
As Father Johnson's hands roamed over Brandon's body, he couldn't help but marvel at the young man's toned physique. His fingers traced the lines of Brandon's abs, the muscles contracting beneath his touch. He moved lower, cupping the swimmer's firm ass cheeks in his hands, squeezing gently before slipping a finger between them to probe at the hidden entrance.
Brandon tensed at the unexpected intrusion, but Father Johnson simply smiled and whispered, "Relax, my child. This is all part of God's plan for you." Slowly, Brandon began to loosen up, allowing the priest's finger to slide deeper inside him. The sensation was strange and new, but also oddly pleasurable. He moaned as Father Johnson massaged his prostate, sending waves of pleasure radiating through his body.
Father Johnson continued to molest Brandon, his hands exploring every inch of the young man's body. He took one of Brandon's nipples into his mouth, sucking and biting gently before moving on to the other one. Brandon arched his back, his breath coming in ragged gasps as the priest's expert ministrations pushed him closer and closer to the edge.
As Brandon felt himself approaching climax once more, Father Johnson slipped a second finger inside him, stretching him open even further. Brandon cried out in shock and pleasure as the fingers thrust in and out, hitting that sweet spot deep inside him. The sensation was almost too much to bear, and he felt his orgasm building faster than he could control.
With a final thrust, Brandon came hard, his seed spurting onto his stomach and chest. Father Johnson licked his lips, grabbing a handful of Brandon's cum and bringing it to his mouth. He greedily lapped up the sticky fluid, slurping the taste of Brandon's essence.
As Brandon lay panting on the bed, Father Johnson smiled down at him, his eyes shining with satisfaction. "You see," he said softly, running a hand through Brandon's sweat-soaked hair, "this is your purpose. This is what God intended for you."
Brandon didn't respond, too lost in the haze of pleasure and confusion to formulate a coherent thought. He knew that Father Johnson's words were twisted and wrong, but he couldn't deny the intense pleasure he had just experienced. He lay there, his body limp and spent, his limbs still bound by the bed, wondering what would become of him now that he had succumbed to the priest's perverse desires.
Next Chapter: It's gonna be fun!
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