by C. M. Knox
He was closing in on climax, in the tape. Video Justin had moved in close to the camera, lying back in the chair to keep his panting face in view as he worked his cock in a frantic rhythm. He watched the viewership number tick up, slowly, and then crest a thousand.
“You see how many people saw this?” Father Burke murmured. “Saw what a disgusting, lustful creature you are? All cock and hunger.” He stood and reached down across Justin's twisting body, his fingers closing around the youth's dripping cock and working down it delicately. “Thinking only with this. I bet you'd come right now, if I kept doing that. Wouldn't you?”
Justin gurgled, staring up at the bulge poking out harshly against the tailored lines of the priest's trousers. Father Burke wasn't even attempting to hide his erection now, and the weighty thing bumped into Justin's throat as the priest shifted in time with the painfully light touch of his fingers.
Justin strained against the rosary, struggling up, his mouth hanging open. He managed to brush the head of Burke's cock with his chin, but he couldn't quite reach it, couldn't get it to his mouth.
“I'm going to come,” moaned his voice from the video. “Watch me... watch me...”
Burke's hand closed around his balls, squeezing them painfully tight. “These are mine,” he warned. “Did you forget that, Justin? Mine. If you spill this seed I'm going to be very annoyed.”
Justin groaned and tried desperately to reach the priest's cock, but Burke kept it just out of reach, the fabric tenting out over it and brushing against Justin's face. They both knew how the video was going to end, how it had to end, and there was nothing Justin could do to stop it now.
“You know what I'll do if you come, Justin? If that little slut in your video creams himself in my chair until he's dripping with it, shares it with those thousand other whores?” Justin was moaning under the onslaught, his balls trying to pull in against the dubious protection of his body, but Burke held them in merciless hands. “You know what I'll do?”
The priest stepped over him, enfolding his head between powerful thighs. Justin strained up hungrily, desperate to please, burying his face in the folds of fabric that separated him from Burke's massive cock. The boy's nose pressed into his taint and Burke sighed, clenching his legs together, forcing the mewling student to stillness.
He couldn't see the video, but Justin heard it anyway, heard himself moan as he came, and Burke's hand tightened painfully around his balls as the priest watched it. “Oh, Justin, Justin,” he sighed, and Justin shivered in anticipation. He knew what came next in that video. In all of his videos.
Burke watched, fascinated, as Justin slathered his come all over himself in the video, rolling it over his balls and coating his young cock with it, working himself a few extra strokes until the last few drops drooled up to the surface and slimed his hand. And then Justin looked up at the camera – looked up at him – grinned a feral grin... and licked it off his hand, finger by finger, his tongue teasing into the gaps between fingers, leaving nothing behind.
“You little deviant,” Burke groaned, involuntarily settling his weight down on the straining youth below him, his balls pressing down against Justin's face through the dampening layers of cloth. “Oh, you little come-slurper...”
He reached down, unzipped his pants with trembling hands, fully conscious that he was crossing some threshold over which he could never return. Justin strained up eagerly, sensing the moment, feeling the fabric slide down over his face as Burke's massive hardness swung free of it.
The priest stepped back and let the pants fall to his ankles, stepped out of them with the weight and gravity of a man walking to the gallows. His cock slapped against Justin's stubble and the youth twisted hungrily, that pink tongue stretching out to taste it.
“You want it, Justin?” he said. His hands cupped the youth's head, pulling him up until his shoulders were cramping with the stretch. “You cock-hungry slut. Then have it.”
He pushed it into Justin's waiting mouth, forcing inch after inch in too fast, not letting the poor student acclimatize to the girth as it stretched his jaw wide. Justin gagged on it, tried to pull off, but Burke held him in place as he slammed his huge cock home into the youth's throat until his balls slapped up against Justin's face. He held it there, listening to the gurgling noises coming from his trapped slave until Justin was moaning and thrashing involuntarily, then finally pulled out and let the youth breathe.
Tears were springing to Justin's eyes and he licked desperately at his lips, trying to keep spit and Burke's precum from dripping out, but a trail of it wet his cheek anyway when Burke popped free. The priest swung his cock in a pendulous arc, slapping it hard enough against Justin's face to sting, then jammed it home in his mouth again, pumping into him with force.
“You like the taste of come, whore?” Father Burke murmured, burying himself in Justin's convulsing throat. The youth tried to reach up, to grab the priest's hips and rock him back to a more comfortable angle, but the rosary still held him trapped. “I'll give you a taste. I'll fucking drown you in it, you pathetic bag of hormones.”
He pounded into Justin, feeling every gasp and spasm as the youth struggled to take him in. The youth had no experience with this, and there was no skill to his motions – but Burke didn't need skill, not from Justin. The mad scrabbling desperation with which Justin was struggling to take him in, struggling to please him – that turned him on more than any amount of skill ever could.
He opened a drawer, found the paddle. Ever since that night a week ago, its placement in the office had been upgraded – he liked to trace the lines of the knobby handle when he had a few spare minutes, to visualize the way it had pushed into Justin's quivering tight hole until the paddle part stuck out of him like a ridiculous tail.
His hand closed around it, in the same place that Justin's ass had, and he pulled it free of the drawer, bringing it down hard on Justin's unprepared abs. The youth coughed and gasped, his mouth clamping tight around Burke's cock, and the priest jammed into that tighter wetness with glee.
Justin couldn't see it, had no warning when the paddle came down again, this time right over his nipple. His chest burned from the impact, a red mark raising almost instantly, and Burke struck again, laying into him in irregular intervals, keeping him guessing. He couldn't concentrate on anything else, his stomach muscles clenching and unclenching involuntarily, flinching away from impacts that sometimes landed hard, sometimes barely stroked him, sometimes didn't land at all.
He almost gagged with surprise at the sudden pain when Burke slapped his delicate balls with it. The blow was light, much lighter than it had been on his torso, but Justin's balls were so sensitive that even as hungry as he was for punishment he still flinched away from it, closing his thighs and twisting.
Burke just reached down and yanked his legs apart, shucking the pants down entirely until they dangled ridiculously from his ankles, and hit him again. He mewled in pain and cowered, but he could feel the way Father Burke's cock jumped in his throat at the helpless sounds, and he knew he wasn't going to get away from it. The priest was enjoying his weakness too much, enjoying exploiting this one chink in his armor.
Then, abruptly, the slap of the paddle relented, and the priest pulled almost all the way out of him, just the head holding Justin's mouth wide while he played his tongue across it, trying to please his tormentor.
He heard a moan that definitely wasn't Father Burke and froze. The video wasn't over, he remembered. There was more. And Father Burke was watching.
The priest pulled off him entirely and rough hands grabbed a handful of hair, pulled him up to squint at the monitor. He was rocked back in the chair, a finger toying with his taint as his legs stretched up to display his tight young ass. “Like the view?” Video Justin prompted, his finger sliding down precipitously.
“Oh no you don't,” Father Burke groaned. He reached down and unhooked the rosary, pushed Justin off the side of the desk so that he crashed painfully against the floor before he cou
ld catch himself. “Get over here, you,” he spat, anger sparking in his eyes.
Justin complied, cowed by the sudden heat in the priest's expression. As soon as he was in reach the priest grabbed him, forcing him down against the desk on his stomach and grinding his face into the familiar wood. He twisted awkwardly, his shoulder aching where it pressed into the desk, but the rosary held his arms trapped together and there was no way he could slide them up over his head in this position.
He watched himself tease open, watched the ring of muscle in his ass twitch and relax, watched a fingertip disappear into his hole, and Burke watched with him.
The priest's hand released him suddenly and he took the chance to raise his arms, leveling his chest flat on the tabletop, but Burke didn't leave him alone for long. The hand arced in unerringly against his bare ass, slapping it hard and then rubbing the welt it raised, slapped it again. “You've been showing this around?” he growled, and Justin moaned with fear and a perverse kind of victory.
The hand crept up, cupping his taint, fingertips swiping up against his balls, and then Burke's thumb was pushing painfully into him, slick only with the half-dried precum it had wrung out of Justin minutes before, but the priest was relentless. He strained to open around the invader, feeling it pull on his hole.
Father Burke's arm moved powerfully, lifting, and Justin clawed at the table as the thumb forced into him. The priest was raising him up one-handed, forcing his entire weight up off the table by the taint, his palm grinding furiously into the hard ridge between balls and hole.
“This is mine,” Burke whispered, his thumb wriggling its way deeper. “Only mine.” His other hand stroked Justin's back, almost soothingly, then pressed down hard against the side of his head, keeping him looking at the view of his own hungry hole as his video double spread it and showed it to the hundreds of strangers, as he slid a finger slick with lube into it and teased it open.
Father Burke looked down at the writhing youth pinned down below him, water leaking from his eyes and his back red where it had been ground into the desk by the painful spread-out position he'd tied Justin into, and took pity.
“Say you're sorry,” he intoned. “Beg forgiveness, and the punishment ends. Just say the word, you little punk. Say 'I'm sorry, Father Burke, I promise I'll be good,' and I'll let you go back to your room and we'll forget this ever happened. Say it, and starting now we go back to regular punishments... and next time you pull something like this, I throw your little slut ass out on the street, and you can see how well your future turns out with a last-minute expulsion on your record and none of your aunt's inheritance money.”
“I can... take whatever you dish out,” Justin spat out. He fixed a rebellious eye on the priest, glaring up at him, fear and pain mingling freely with desire and eagerness. “Give it to me, Father Burke. Punish me like you... like you know I deserve.”
The priest's teeth flashed in the dimness. He teased his thumb in again, forcing a gasp from Justin, then withdrew it carefully, teasing the ring of muscle with it as his fingertips massaged Justin's taint. “Are you sure?”
Justin licked his lips. “Yes. Only...” He hesitated. He didn't want to ask this of him, to show this weakness. The rebel streak in him, the one that loved goading the priest and reveled in it every time he wrung another angry slap out of the stolid Father Burke, didn't want to give up this ground to the enemy. It was the first step towards total submission.
But of course, that was what the rest of him was craving. He wanted the priest to force him to heel, to utterly overwhelm him and turn him into a pet. He just wanted it to be real, to have Father Burke own him because the priest had claimed and mastered him. He wasn't some puppy to roll over for a treat.
Not yet.
“Only?” Father Burke prompted. His hand was soothing, the stroke sending ripples of pleasure up through Justin's body that he couldn't ignore entirely as hard as he tried.
He didn't want to cave, even on something so small. But at the same time, he knew he couldn't take what was coming without this concession. And it was going to cost him a step, a patch of the battlefield between them that he knew he'd never get back.
“There's some... lube in the top drawer,” he muttered, defeated. “From when I... come here. I...”
The priest pushed into his hole again, just the slightest bit, catching on the muscle. “Are you asking me for something, Justin?” he gloated.
Justin glared venom back at his tormentor, but the feel of Father Burke's massive cock pushing insistently against the flesh of his ass gave him pause. “Just this one thing, you sadistic bastard,” he groaned. “You can do this one thing for me.”
“Ask me nicely,” Father Burke grinned. “Say, 'Father Burke, when you fuck me with that massive rod until I'm a quivering mound of disobedient young man flesh piled up on your desk, please, please lube me up first.'” He leaned down over Justin, his breath rasping against the youth's ear as chest slid against back, their hips grinding together, the priest's cock sliding up into the groove between Justin's cheeks and dripping wetness onto the small of his back. “Beg me. I want to hear you beg.”
Justin's cock was so hard it was painful, trapped against the desk by the weight of two bodies. “Please,” he groaned, defeated. “Please, Father Burke.” The priest was making no move for the drawer, though. “Please, Father Burke, when you... please lube me.”
“When I...?” Burke prompted.
“Please Father Burke when you fuck me please please use lube so that your massive priest cock doesn't tear a hole in me so I can still take it when you fuck me again tomorrow,” Justin groaned, the words pouring out of him so fast it was like one long moan.
Burke pressed his face into the place where Justin's jaw met his ear, kissed the cheek with rough tenderness. “Of course, lad,” he whispered, stroking Justin's back, and the youth shuddered with desire underneath him, a desire totally unlike the taunting dares of their previous encounter. “Of course.”
The priest released him entirely, rummaging around in the drawer while Justin lay on the desk, nothing restricting his movement now but the loops of rosary that shifted loosely around his wrists. He could be free in seconds, could simply walk out the door. They both knew he wouldn't.
Father Burke found the lube at last, dragged the little container seductively down Justin's back before popping the cap open and drizzling it onto his fingers, working them gently into the youth's hole. It opened for him immediately, welcoming him home into that secret place.
The video had long since ended, but Burke glanced at the computer anyway, reminding himself that it wasn't a private pleasure anymore. Hundred of men had seen that perfect hole, had hungered for it the same way Father Burke did. The thought rose the anger in him again and his fingers twitched inside Justin, making the boy moan and pull involuntarily into the desk.
Good. This was meant to be punishment, after all.
Justin was panting with need by the time Burke finally worked his cock into him, the huge shaft forcing him open, burrowing into the tight flesh, constantly moving. The priest didn't let him relax, didn't give him a moment to breathe, but he wasn't brutal. Not at first.
“Good?” he murmured, stroking Justin's hips, his shoulders, running his fingers through his hair. “You like that, my little whore? You like knuckling under for me and taking it?”
“I fucking love it,” Justin groaned. “You call this punishment? This is fucking playtime.”
“Watch your language,” Burke chided. It was as much an invitation as a warning.
“Fucking make me, bitch,” Justin forced out, already struggling under the mixture of pain and pleasure Burke's huge manhood was fucking into him.
Father Burke shook his head in wonder. You filthy pig whore, he thought. His hips pounded home, brutally, fucking a cut-off scream from Justin's throat. The boy's arms spasmed against the desk, the rosary beads scraping against the wood. You beautiful, strong man.
“Oh... oh God, Father Burke... o
h, unghhh...” Justin was panting helplessly, rubbing his face into the wood, delirious with feeling. “Yes, yes, oh God yes, harder, harder...” He scrabbled to reach his dripping cock but Burke beat him to it, wrapping the youth's hardness in an iron grip.
He leaned in, pounding hard, and whispered in Justin's ear. “You want me to move this hand?” he murmured. “Yohopeu want me to stroke you, help you feel as good as I feel buried in your slut ass, want me to let you shoot semen all over yourself?”
“Y-yes,” Justin moaned, bucking into the hand. “Yes, yes, do it...”
Father Burke was reckless, flush with victory. “Beg me,” he commanded. “Beg me to cream inside you. Beg me to fill you with my seed, beg me to jerk you until you writhe and shoot helplessly under my hand.”
“Please!” Justin screamed. “Father Burke, please, stroke me off, fuck me, please, make me come... yes...”
Justin's ass clamped down so hard around him that Burke had to force his cock back in, the tightness clenching his cock so hard that his balls tightened instantly, the crest of orgasm leaping into view on the horizon. “Good... good boy,” he groaned.
Justin shot first, moaning and rolling his body against the desk in helpless spasms as the priest worked his cock, and the priest didn't last much longer. They shot together, semen filling Justin's hole and splattering against the side of the desk for the second time, but Father Burke didn't relent until they were both exhausted with pleasure and Justin's moans had turned to weak mewling sounds of need.
He pulled free, finally, threads of semen dripping off him as Justin's hole flexed and tightened, closing up over the load Burke had fucked into him. He watched it happen, transfixed, stroking the closing bud with a reverent thumb.
Justin panted on the desk, spent. Father Burke eased him up gently, unwrapped the rosary from around his wrists. The naked youth looked at him with wonder, a guarded kind of hope mirrored behind his eyes.
“Father Burke...” he whispered, uncertainly. He cock swung between them, still half-hard, as confused as the young man was.