Date: Wed, 20 Nov 2019 12:32:56 +0000 From: encolpius1@protonmail.com Subject: Devil Boys part 9 DEVIL BOYS By Encolpius DISLAIMER: This story is fiction. Any similarity to actual persons or events is purely coincidental. eal. Compliments, complaints, comments to Encolpius1@protonmail.com Remember to donate to Nifty. I have more stories to tell. NINE BUCK'S STORY In Key West, by a pool. The Professor had asked me if sex is a sacrament. For us it is. We like this place. Four of us live here now and we are regulars for the weekend and Wednesday parties. We are known for partying. All of us can pass for legal now, including the three amigo's: Davey, Little Bit and Red. I pointed out Little Bit to my new professor friend and he remarked that it must be an ironic name as he is most assuredly not little anymore. He's not tall but he is built fine and hung. I assure tim that back in the day, the name fit. He just outgrew it. This place -- Island House -- is like holy ground. It is a pressure cooker of gay sexuality, not as intense as a bathhouse. more modulated but still it is completely gay. That is us. Yes, sex is a sacrament. "And you are a Devil Boy?" he asks I nude. "You know more about us than you let on. Yes, I am a Devil Boy. In a way, I am an origianl Devil Boy" "And you're a priest" "In a manner of speaking. It's much more that we commit our lives to the ideal of Adonis. I suppose you could say that we are priests except we are more the living expression of the ideal of Adonis" "And never had sex with a woman?" "Never have, never will" I answer. "That's a rule" "And you know all the Devil Boys?" "Of course. It's like a plural marriage. To be a devil boy, all the others have to agree" -------------------------------------------------- I have a younger brother, Sam. 14 months younger. My mother found out I was gay because Sam found out and told her, she told my father and he forbade it. It was a futile gesture. She asked for prayer from her circle of prayer warriors. Less than a day later, I was the subject of all the gossip in my small town. I was shunned at school and at church. Some of the football team, my brother blocking the door, beat me in a bathroom. I was sent off to be cured. I walked away. A car - an Audi - stopped and a man and a boy stopped and drove me to the woods near the Floida border. There on a riverbank I was touched sexually for the first time. Touched and I touched. Then, in a bedroom, I watched gay porn and I lost my virginity. Now I haven't had clothes on in three days and I am in bed wedged between Skeeter, hot green eyed boy, and Big John, a grown man not yet silver but hard like a board. All of us are hard, dreaming away. That first morning after, Skeeter dressed and Big John drove him to school, a place I suppose I'll never go again. Since Skeeter didn't go far from home, he never had to change schools and nobody thought to ask him about his changed liveing conditions. I gathered he was a bit anonymous, a poor kid no one paid attention to. When Big John returned, we continued my education. I smoked marijuana for the first time. We discussed books and he would pull them off the shelves for me to read. I thought I might be learning more here than Skeeter was. Big John rejects Christianity. He is a Satanist. He made it clear that he didn't believe in a literal Satan but in an idea. From what I could tell, he was less sure what he did believe than he was in what he didn't. He attacked my faith in Jesus Christ and he found fertile ground. Rejecting what I was taught was easy. It was the stupidest thing that did it too. I had been taught that the first 5 books of the Bible had been written by Moses. Big John said no. It was a committee cobbling together older sources. There were two creation stories. He said it and I read it and he was right. And Moses would have had to write about his own death and burial, which seems unlikely. Maybe it shouldn't be such a big deal but they make it a big deal. Skeeter told me about his acid trip. He told me about his vision. He told me about Adonis. It surprised me at first that Big John was, basically, a criminal. He made drugs. I asked him about it and he denied nothing. I told him that I wanted to try it and he said that I could. In fact, me and Skeeter could do it together on a Friday night and he would make sure we were okay. Even though I knew it would be unlikely that I would experience the same vision that Skeeter did, I really wanted to. I wanted to meet Adonis, this new god, this old god. It was a warm night and the hunidity stuck to us. We were naked, not then but wore little. I was more comfortable in my own skin than before. It took a while for it to kick in but when it did it was like being drug down a track by a freight train. It was intense. All the colors in the shade of darkness were vivid and undulating. The walls breathed, the trees moved. The air sang. Big John played music, old Southern rock, long jamming songs and the music flowed over us. We walked in the night time, to the rectangular building as Skeeter described being baptized with semen and urine. We talked, some, disjointed but profound, and the muscic played and the universe played tricks on us. I didn't have a vision. But I did have a revelation. Like Paul on the Damascus Road, I became a committed Adonist. I wanted them to penetrate me. I wanted to bottom. And then, when the time came, I too would be baptized the same as Skeeter. That was essential. That hard nut of perverts and child molesters were our disciples. They were the perfect vehicles for our faith.A faith defined by freedom and by male sexuality. "I think you like this" Skeeter said, grinning as he rubbed me down there. Big John, also naked and hard, laughed "Yeah" I admitted ""Wonder now why you waited, huh?" Big John said I loooked over at him. "Wonder why I thought it was wrong" The way I'm being touched can't be wrong. It can't be. Every fiber in me says that it is right. Skeeter strokes my hardness. I am anxious with anticipation, afraid that it will hurt. But I am hard and the blood is flowing and I am not merely anxious. I am anticipating too. Skeeter loves it, after all. He's equally happy on top or bottom. Of course, Skeeter is also just happy, untroubled. I feel his hand going down and I catch my breath. He toys with the hole and I shiver. Then a finger goes in. "Mmmmmm" I purr. I feel a shiver as he massaages my prostate. Big John leans over and begins to suck my hard member. It's even better than normal with the finger inside me. I sigh a little. Skeeter wiggles it around some, I guess loosening me up but it feels good. I didn't know there was so much sensation. Then a second finger. It felt tight but not bad. Good, in fact. Good with Big John licking my shaft. Then a third finger and he began to move them in and out. "Uhhhh" I groaned. "You ready?" Skeetrt asked I nodded. I waas. I turned over and got on my hands and knees and Big John told me to get my legs as far apart as I could. Skeeter played with my hole some more, putting lube in there before lubing his own hard member. "Go slow" I said "I will, Theo. I want you to enjoy this. I want to do it with you lots and lots." I couldn't take the first time. I yelled for him to stop. It hurt. It was a searing awful pain. He said we didn't have to and Big John agreed but I wanted to. He got all the way in the second time before I stopped him and made his pull out. That was a mistake. It meant I had to get penetrated again. I bit my wrist as he tried a thrid time. And it hurt. He stopped when he waas in. He had gone slow and I don't know if that's better or not but he stopped when he wsa in and let me get used to the fullness.I did feel full down there. Like when you need to go to the bathroom. There was an urgency to the sensation and it wasn't pleasant He wiggled around, more sid eto side than anything, and the movement did help. "Okay" I said He begun to move in and out. It was uncomfortable but not painful. Weird feeling. I was having trouble processing it. I thought I desperately needed to urinate, as if he was hitting my bladder and, of course, it was like you feel when you need to defecate. But it was also like you feel when you need to orgasm. It was a confusing senstaion. But less unpleasant as he moved. Definitely less unpleasant. Big John got in front of me and I took his erect member in my mouth, blowing him as Skeeter sodomized me. "Man, you are so fucking tight" he said. He continued to move back and to and I reached down and I wasn't hard. It wasn't that I wasn't turned on because I was but I jest wasn't hard. I was alive wiht senstation down there and, when I touched it, it was almost too sensitive to bear. He began to move faster and I groaned. For some reason, I wanted him deeper inside me. "Harder" I heard myself whisper. "Harder" "Liking it?" Big John asked, smirking a little "Harder" Skeeter did and not because I told him to but because he was losing control. He grunted and I grunted but I kept sucking. Big John needed to stay hard and I figured it wasn't as easy for him as for us, since we are younger. What Skeeter was doing was hard now and I bore it. I took ti. He was on the verge. "Fuuuuck" Skeeter called out I felt his warm liquid inside me. It felt slimy. Some of it oozed out as Skeeter pulled out. I looked up at Big John with pleading eyes "Next?" he said, again with a smirk "Please" He is bigger than Skeeter but it didn't hurt as bad. He was gentle as he entered me and I didn't want him to be. I wanted him to pick up where Skeeter left off. He did begin to pick up the pace and I began to rub myself hard. I could just put my head down and close my eyes and live in the sensation of what was happening down there, back there. I had to try to remember to breath as I stroked my erection. I would groan just a little when I couldn't take it anymore "Yeah, fucking tight" Big John said. "Virgin ass" It was moan, a whimper that escaped my lips. He was pounding me hard. I stroked it. Then in a blaze of light more intense thana a thousand suns, flushed with the heat of a thousand suns, I exploded. It was the most intense orgasm of my life. But Big John wasn't though. He was demanding his pleasure and, despite my own orgasm, I didn't begrudge him. I didn't want it to stop. Keep on, keep on. "Oh yeah, fuck" he called out, shoving it in once more. The three of us layed there, on the bed, me in the wet spot. "Did you like it?" Skeeter asked. I shrugged. "I don't know. I either thinks it's the greatest thing ever or I hate it. I don't know" "You want to do it again" Big John asked "Not right now" I answered. "I'm still trying to process" "Tomorrow?" "Maybe in a little while" I answered. Skeeter turned to me. "Theo means God, right? But God is evil. You need to a new name for a new life. I think I'm going to call you .... Buck. Buck as in fuck" Buck it is. ------------------------------------------------------------------------- This is a vision There was a boy who was a pure soul. He shared what he had. what he was freely. He gave and he took pleasure. By conventional morality, he was decadent or hedonist or immoral but he was a pure soul and couldn't help but show love and affection, couldn't help intumacy. Nor did he want to. Why should he hold back? There is another boy, a little older, agnrier. He sees the purity and he wants it. He responds to it but he is hamstrung. Limited by history and by rejection. Limited by the thought that he is no one special and of little importance. They are together on a forest path. They are in the presence of a god. Tall, golden haired. The shoulders broad and hips narrow. his body carved of marble and luminescent. "Why not tell the whole world?" the older boy asked, demanding. Adonis but smiled. The younger boy waited for it as it seemed a perfectly reasonable.question. "Well? Why not shout from the rooftops, tell the whole world? They are worshipping evil and don't know it. You are the path to freedom, to true happiness. Why not broadcast it?' The younger boy thought about it. "Because he may be the God of Freedom but not everybody wants to be free. Not everybody wants to be good. They would just eventually twist around what's said into being something else" "There are gay kids dying everyday and you're worried about orthodoxy?" "Aren't those the biggest problems, the fundamentalists?" the younger boy asked. Adonis turned and left. As he did, he turned and looked back. "Winning is slow work" This is what I believe