Date: Fri, 7 Apr 2017 08:54:54 -0400
From: Orson Cadell <orson.cadell@gmail.com>
Subject: Mud Lark Holler 9

Please see original story (www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/rural/mud-lark-holler/)
for warnings and copyright. Highlights: All fiction. All rights
reserved. Includes sex between adult and young-adult men. Go away if any of
that is against your local rules. Practice safer sex than my
characters. Write if you like, but flamers end up in the nasty bits of
future stories. Donate to Nifty **TODAY** at donate.nifty.org/donate.html
to keep the cum coming.

*****

"Preacher, I could feel the demons leave me as the Holy Fire washed my
soul. I cain't thakee enough." He gave a pointed look at the corner where
the iron candlesticks stood. "I'm afraid I'm plumb outta candlesticks,
Reverend Waite, some boys musta got into my case and stole em. I will say
that I have a right nice censer coming in, and I hope you'll find the
coffers full enough to buy it in, say, two weeks? Assuming that I can get
more of your help and that of your fine soldiers with my demon problems?"

*****

Mud Lark Holler 9: Revelation 19

By Bear Pup

T/T, M/T+; rural; preacher; anal; serious blasphemy; serious CBT

Dr Hiram was right distracted and neither Billy nor I were about to remind
him when we suddenly found ourselves dressed and deployed without
tormentuous armour. Cooter were even faster out the gate, cases on cart and
mule moving at a mighty pace afore Billy and I even got to the door. We
waived away the dust and just stared, one warrior to another.

The dust vanished quick as a drizzle started, and the skies heralded a real
rain coming. "Aw, shucks, Billy. I was right looking forward to us talking
the Theology at the crickside!"

We stood for a moment in the shelter of the eaves and turned as one when we
started hearing another battle begin to brew in the Fortress of the Lord.
Deacon's Conner's voice begging his fellow warrior, the Lay Minister, to
pierce the enemy deeper and harder, and Dr Hiram urging that same Lay
Minister to take his own Holy Weapon deeper, all of them praising God in
loud and fervent voices -- save for Minister Parker, of course, whose
throat was otherwise engaged by that point.

Billy turned to me with the wickedest grin I ever done saw, to the point I
was about to ask if'n a demon or three done took him. But no. "Jeremiah, I
think we need to continue this battle in the other true Fastness of the
Lord God... the Chapel." I smiled wide and wondrous as we chased each other
to the other end of the building beneath the wide porch at the front.

"Now we's just takin shelter if'n anyone looks. You make sure to keep yourn
eyes peeled and nudge me if you see even a sparrow. You with me Warrior?"

I jest nodded and started to stare around as casual as possible, lookin for
all the world like a kid pretending he weren't raiding the sweets drawer. I
heard some right interesting noises before the door creaked open and Billy
yanked me by the belt through and into the gloom. Twere like a stage trick
at the Carnie. That door couldn't'a been open more than a second before we
was both inside and the door locked again.

In a hushed voice, I asked, "What we doing here, Billy?" The echoes moved
the dust in the wan light coming through the mullions.  It were right
spooky, truth told.

"Look at me, Jeremiah." I met his green eyes glowing in the gloom like twin
lanterns, alight with the Holy Fire. "Think back on everything the Book has
to say about the Sin of Onan for me. You're better at the Theology, and
that's true. Now Onan sinned cuz his sacred seed feel to the profane
ground, true?" I creased my face and nodded. "And Dr Hiram done made it
clear that the dust of the floor tain't no better?" Another slow and
careful nod from me. I thought over all the words most careful.

"Clothes is profane, too, Billy, and spilling on sheets and such is right
terrible sin. Nothing about water, though, thus our Holy Triumph at the
crickside last."

"Jeremiah, think hard for me, fellow warrior. Depositing that Sacred Seed
in another Warrior during battle is Holy, ain't that right?"

"Sure, that's true, brother."

"But they's other things even less profane than a fellow sinner, ain't
there?"

We both turned to the Dais and the Altar itself. "Jeremiah, there ain't
nuthin less profane than a consecrated Altar, true?"

My answer was quick and firm. "You're wrong there, Billy." I watched his
face fall. "True it is that the Altar is sacred and pure, but there is one
thing even less profane... the Word of God hiself." His eyes followed mine,
locked on the giant, red-leather-bound tome of the Holy Bible as it set on
the right hand of the Altar.

I had to forcibly restrain my fellow warrior as he tried to dye-vest hiself
of all adornment. "No, Billy. This requires slow and reverent thought and
true purity of spirit." I pulled him upon the Dais and we bowed before the
Altar and I said one of the prayers we all knew by heart, begging for His
Holy Grace to guide us.

I moved us around to the True Face of the Altar, me facing the Congregation
and Billy leant back against the Altar proper, and proceeded to reverently
remove his Earthly raiment, taking true care with each button and
pin. Billy's eyes were wide in awe, but I was steadfast, feeling the Holy
Spirit suffuse me. I folded his shirt, then pulled and coiled his belt. I
pushed both pants and drawers down as one. Before he could step out of
them, I lifted Billy bodily upon the Altar, channelling the strength of the
Spirit, his face a mask of awe.

I picked up and folded his pants and set his somewhat worse-for-wear
drawers atop the pile. Billy stared, open-jawed as I did the same for my
own coverings, until we were both in the only armour that the Lord God had
given us by his own hand. Billy's bright eyes followed my movements as I
kissed the leather binding and opened the tome carefully to Genesis
38. With that same Holy Strength, I flipped Billy so his Holy Sword,
already plump, pointed to verse 9.

I leant forward, feet still planted beside the altar, and proceeded to do
something that I ain't never thought nor saw fore that very instant, but
which the Lord set within me. I prised apart the plump muscles of his
flanks and began to lick and teases the tight pucker I found
within. Billy's back arched HARD, head thrown back and keening, fundament
pushed as hard into my face as he could manage. I reached forward and
stroked and teased his tenders with one hand and his engorged Sword with
the other, then plumb went to town on Billy's tender back door.

Billy's voice became high and tight (much like his backside) as my tongue
invaded, tickled and stroked the hidden flesh, driving the boy plumb wild
with need. He began to sing the Praises of the Lord of the Heavenly Host in
a fervent voice that was a fair match to the most-holy utterances we'd ever
heard in the Reverend's study, even those of vaunted Warriors like Deacon
Conner. Interspersed with prayers and whines and moans and gibbering noises
were words that I ignored, words begging me to take him, to fill him to do
so much more.

Higher and higher they went until with a might oath and declaration of the
Glory of God, Billy's Sword began to erupt in Rapture. I held his hips in
one hand and made sure that no drop of seed fell outside the Holy Words of
Genesis. Billy was crying softly in thanks and praise.

I pulled the Holy Word from beneath him but kept a steadying hand on his
quivering hip. I gathered up some of Billy's holy offering before flipping
quick-like to another important passage. I slid the Word of God back
beneath Billy, Leviticus 20 in the middle of the page, Billy's sword now
pointed to the mid-teens.

I mounted the Altar myself and Billy started to beg me, this time I fully
intended to giving everything he asked for. This was a Holy Mission, and
there was no doubt or shadow in my mind. The message stamped upon my soul
by His Holy Spirit guided me as I rubbed half of Billy's Sacred Seed into
his ass and other only my own Spear of the Lord.

With slow and delicate reverence, I parted the folds of Billy's inner
sanctum with my Spear. A huge, resounding shout of, "PRAISE GOD ALMIGHTY!"
erupted from us both as my spear found its target, and erupted again from
Billy even louder when my spearhead found that lump of holy flesh deep
within. I stroked his nipples and sawed in and out slowly, reverently, with
every shred of God's Love I could muster: the tenderness of the Shepherd,
the heat of the Burning Bush, the strength of Samson, the vengeance of the
Tenth Plague of Egypt. All of that was wrapped within as I gave unto Billy
that which he beggeth for in this House of the Lord.

And me oh my did he beggeth! Twere like he done turned into a wild man. He
corkscrewed his nethers round my Spear like I never did think possible,
spoutin the most holy (and occasionally unholy; I'd take that up with my
brother Warrior at some later date) words to motivate me. Twas not no
problem, as the Holy Spirit did move me, loins and all. And durned if every
other stroke didn't nip that nub of flesh deep in there, driving Billy to
new heights of worship and vocal praise of the Lord and ever bit of His
creation.

And verily did Billy cry out to the Lord God as my Holy Spear fucked him
senseless on the Altar of the Lord, and he did throweth back his head and
he did bellow the praise of the Most High, and did thusly erupt again (and
again and again) upon the pages of the Holy Word.

Without withdrawing and in spite of Billy's pleas, I tugged the sodden
pages of the Altar Bible and flipped again, a final time, to the Letter of
Paul to the Romans, chapter 1. I edged it under the shivering Billy,
further back this time, and began to pummel that sweet, luscious ass with
wild (but reverent) abandon. As I felt myself get close, I pulled out, much
to Billy's consternation, and began to slide my Spear of the Lord downward
through his crack.

Billy suddenly understood and began to clench his behind in a truly
spiritual rhythm. I plunged down faster and faster, the slickness of
Billy's old cum and ass-water and sweat rippling the nerves across my
manhood. It was my own turn to shout praises of the Lord Most High, and I
screamed a steady stream of adulation as I finally, finally reached my own
Rapture, pouring a massive, chunky load of sacred seed on the pages of the
Holy Word.

Spent, body and soul alike, I moved off the Altar and helped Billy to a
nearby pew onto which he sank and squelched. I returned to the Altar and to
the open Bible and made sure that my own seed had thoroughly coated verse
27, then closed the sacred tome and returned it to its rightful place. I
used my drawers to wipe away all trace of sweat (from both of us) and the
huge puddles of drool (from Billy's own Holy Fight), making sure that the
sanctuary was right and ready for the next service aid in His Holy Name.

I set myself next to Billy on that pew and he snuggled into my arm. "That
was one fine battle, brother Warrior." I murmured. "What's it like, though?
You know, reaching what would otherwise a'been sin without touching your
own self none?"

Billy tilted his face up to me and smiled most angelic. "The Lord God done
made wonders, Jeremiah. The bees that buzz and the birds that sing, the
crick that splashes and tree that shades the bower. But there ain't nuthin
that man done made that's a match for that tiny something deep up in
there. When the Reverend first took that there part of me, he did say the
most terrible things bout my enjoyment thereof, Jeremiah, that it twere
proof of my corruption and need of his ministration.

"But I swear and aver right here in the House of God, Jeremiah, that I done
come to doubt the Theology taught by Father Waite. The Lord God don't make
mistakes, does He?"

"No, Billy, he shore don't. Fact is that God done made everything there is
*other than* a mistake. It's pert near the only thing that we True
Christians have in common with all those charlatans and fakers, the
knowledge that God don't make mistakes."

"Then, Jeremiah, can you give me one good reason He would have put the
bestest feeling in the whole world right up there where the only way to
tease it is with your Spear, there? Then have folks like Father Waite tell
us it's wrong and sinful to use that Holy gift?"

I looked down into his bright green eyes and thunk long and hard. I thought
everything from Genesis to Deuteronomy, Joshua to Maccabees, Job to
Daniel. Not one blessed thing. The Gospels, the right and true story of
God's own son? Lots a talk of loving your brother, but nary a word bout
which way you *ain't* supposed to do it. All them letters? Nuthin
clear. And Revelation? Not mentioned nowhere!

I came back to them bright green eyes staring up at me, content to be held
in my arms as we sat embraced by the Lord. "Billy, you are a true marvel
and a prophet to boot. I need to sleep upon this, brother, and we'll talk
again in the morn."

Billy pulled his magic trick at the door, only in reverse, and we were
magic-like on the porch watching that rain taper and fade. Billy headed to
the Millikan Steading, and I found myself in a deep and serious study as I
made my way long the muddy track to home. Ma asked about it when I got to
the steading and for the first time since never, I just shook my head and
didn't answer, walking straight and true to the copy of the Good Book above
the hearth.

I read til dark then ate what must have been a fine dinner (Ma was cookin,
so it couldn't be nuthin less) under the watchful and slightly-scared eyes
of six sisters. I curled up under the lamp, right next to Ma's own chair as
she mended, flipping thought chapter after chapter, verse after verse. I
set the Holy Word back on the hearth and proceeded to bed, the only words
spoke tween the Chapel and the loft were the words of grace over the meal.

I was up with the rooster, dressed and out afore Ma even had breakfast
started. I grabbed some bread and cheese. Ma just looked at me, smiling, as
if'n she knowed what was going on within me. I was at the Milliken Steading
as the morning chores were done and the family was sitting to table. I
knocked right polite and a surprised Mrs Milliken appeared.

"Ma'am, I know it's early and far from regular, but I need Billy. It's a
right important thing." Her brow creased but something in my voice seemed
to ring with His Truth. She nodded to Billy (who grabbed bout six biscuits
and a jam-jar) and we went off to the clearing by the crick.

We talked through everything for near three hours, long enough that we
barely got to the Chapel in time for service. I scooted in next to Ma just
afore Dr Hiram rose to preach. Soon the "Amens!" and "Hallelujahs!" rang
forth and any number of the women were come across in tongues. I did notice
that the preacher moved his sermon toward a certain subject a few times,
but then veered off when I couldn't get the pages apart in Leviticus,
Genesis and Romans. I gave a sidelong glance to Billy who simply sat there,
white with terror.

The service wrapped with a crescendo of praise and admonitions. Dr Hiram
greeted the parishioners, shakin hands and kissin babies at the door. Billy
and I rushed round to the Vestry long before Widow Pruffrock got to the
Reverend; she always made sure to the be last one to leave and latched onto
his hand like a tick on a hound.

While Billy jittered and jinked by the inner door that we expected Dr Hiram
to use, I made a thorough search of that hutch. Me oh my did I find quite
the Holy Arsenal. I could just barely guess at how a few of them-thar
things might be deployed. The important bit, the bit we'd counted on, was
that Dr Hiram hadn't changed the Altar setup since Cooter was here. We'd
guessed it would be so since he'd been so prayerful with the Conner and
Parker, but we smiled wide at each other when we found we'd been right.

We were seated nice and proper when Dr Hiram finally came through the door,
his scowl left over from the Pruffrock conversation replaced like a thrown
switch with a bright and beaming smile. "Young Warriors! It warms my heart
and soul, it does, to see you so eager to meet the Great Enemy in Holy
Battle. Let me get out of the vestments."

"While you do that, Reverend, I could sure use your help with a quandary
that Billy and I done found."

"Surely, surely! Ask away, Brother Jeremiah!"

"When you done probed my demon Ose it felt right wonderful, and Billy shore
seemed to enjoy it when you deployed your own Holy Weapon up his behind to
chase the Demon of Defiance out. Why did the Lord God see fit to put
something so wondrous where it's plumb hard to reach? And it do seem that
the only way to get to it is for two men to cooperate, cuz it shore cain't
be done by any part of a woman I know of."

Dr Hiram laughed. "You are a treasure, Jeremiah, and a quick study to
boot!" Dr Hiram came out from behind the screen in nothing more than God
gave him. How bout you two young Warriors get yourselves ready for battle
while I explain it to you."

Billy and I moved behind the screen together.

"You see, young Warriors, the Holy Work in which we involved ourselves is
mighty secret. Now, God don't give you weapons and armour galore, but some
he stowed deep to prevent them from being abused by the unworthy. That
nubbin in there is just such a weapon. If'n it's used out of the service of
the Lord, It's a true danger to all, so he put it where only Holy Battle
can reach, and then only when that Battle is well and truly fought."

Billy and I came out and a scowl crossed Dr Hiram's face as he realised
that neither the Cage of Job nor the Girdle of Peter Damian were in
evidence. His face cleared as he recalled that he'd been so deep in
worshipful praise with the Deacon and the Lay Minister that he plumb
forgot. His eyes roved up and down, devouring us with what I could now
clearly see was not Holy Zeal but the basest lust. There was still one
thing I wanted, though.

"Dr Hiram, you found that demon Ose deep within me, feeding me those
tormentuous thoughts. Can, um, sir, can we go after him today?"

His eyes right popped and I could see his Adam's apple bobbing in time to
his manhood. "That's a right fine battle plan, son. You, you know that's a
mighty sacrifice, right? That demon's gonna howl a mighty thunder and, I
won't lie, it's gonna hurt bad at first?"

"I'm ready, Reverend." Before He could position me otherwise, I moved to
the end of the Altar and grabbed the edges, spreading my legs wide. I
watched the Reverend's eyes take in my ass and the tenders hanging below
and his weapon begin to leak dogwater like a sprung bucket. Billy had
already gotten the cruet and dish of oil from the cabinet. Dr Hiram looked
like a man in a trance... or possessed by the worst band of demons. Billy
and I had spent a long time in holy contemplation and deep discussion; we
knew the latter to be true.

To set the snare proper, I looked over my shoulder and wiggled my behind a
little. "Go gentle, Reverend, please?"

He near moaned and his hand shook as he began to massage the oil into my
most-private area. As with the first time, his finger teased and caressed
the entrance before proceeding. This time, though, his goal was not that
hidden treasure where Ose waited, but the oiling and stretching of the
portal itself. The finger came and went, came and went, pushing more and
more of that oil into me. Billy was diligent in refilling the oil dish over
and over. I do admit to a yelp when the second finger tricked its way
inside, but by that time it was more surprise than anything.

Now Dr Hiram's long, thin fingers wove a kind of magic that left no doubt
that me and Billy was right. Nothing short of a whole passel of demons
could make a body feel this wondrous-nasty and still wanting more. By the
third finger I was moaning, and tweren't no demon neither.

I did truly whine aloud when those fingers left me and I looked over in
need, almost forgetting my Holy Mission. I watched as Dr Hiram oiled up his
dagger, the railroad spike with the wide, blunt head and the narrow, long
staff. I felt him shuffle in behind me and POW! he punched inside and I did
howl this time. That plumb HURT!  My howl was matched with his rich voice
screaming praise unto the Lord.

And that there hurt twas right forgotten not a moment later when Dr Hiram's
dagger found that magic spot and began to press. I made sure to wiggle
about to keep his attention close, but it weren't hard to do as, me oh my,
did he work some wonders deep up in there with every stroke. The Reverend
might be a boiling cauldron of sin, but whoo-whee could he work that fleshy
weapon! There was a loud squeal, cut short that near deafened me.

I felt more than saw Billy clamp the bridle-bit Dr Hiram had used on Cotter
the day before into place. Suddenly, the demons within that man could no
more curse us than cure us. But he could sure squeal like a stuck pig as
he, well, became a stuck pig. Billy had endured four years of back-door
visits in the infernal cage, so he was in no mood to be gentle. He'd
slicked himself cuz otherwise it might have hurt Billy, but he plunged hard
and deep into the man we had thought of as the Reverend. He started to saw
into the man, hitting the same spot that Dr Hiram was hitting in me with
each of Billy's thrusts.

The man grunted, hunched and hollered for near five minutes afore Billy
tapped me on the shoulder. Okay, truth told, popped me upside the head as
tapping, poking and even slapping any other part of me got not attention at
all atal.

I pushed my nethers back as hard and quick as I could (getting a moaning
whimper from me and a groaning growl from Dr Hiram) as his manhood drove
full into me and his own nethers were impaled upon Billy. When Billy (and
thus he) pulled back again for his next thrust, I pulled quick forward and
down, slipping beneath and to the side and Billy stepped well back with an
odd squelching sound.

Twas then that the Doctor Reverend Hiram Waite suddenly noticed that his
hands seemed curiously indisposed to grab me back into an
appropriately-rutty position. It took his lust-filled eyes a moment to
focus on the firmly-buckled straps round each wrist, ones that a day before
had secured that salesman type name a Cooter for his own demon-spelling
session.

Dr Hiram's face became a red mask of outrage and betrayal and he opened up
to let fly all the curses known to demonkind, but that bridle and bit made
short work of that. Billy and I sat for a moment (me a wee mite tender in
the sitting parts) until Dr Hiram ran out of squashed epithets.

"No, Mister Waite, or the demons who infest him. We know for true now that
you are no more a preacher of the Lord God that that there horsefly. But
don't you worry none, we are Warriors of the Lord and know just how to
chase them demons out. First of all, though," I went to the hutch and
extracted those blue spectacles as Billy loudly shot home every bolt on
both doors and went so far as to wedge a chair beneath each handle. I
continued, "we's got to find out which ones is where!"

The false prophet's eye bugged as that collection of demons suddenly
realised just how much we knew. Billy already held Ezekiel high and while
the man's face was still showing the horror as he looked at me, Billy did
bring that mighty weapon right crashing down. It was pure music to hear how
much them demons tried to howl now that they were no longer the ones
corrupting and defiling the Weapons of the Lord for their unholy
lust. Those mighty Weapons were back in the true service of the Lord.

One thing we did find quick: Them demons gave a man some serious
strength. Billy's arm was plumb wore out long afore I could get a bead on
all of the wriggling things the spectacles showed. I spelled him as he
rubbed some sense back into his muscles. The demon-infested nethers were
bright red and tender, true, but not near enough.

I used a two-hand grip like I would and axe on a stubborn tree truck. I'll
tell you true, me oh my, did Ezekiel make a thunderous sound and the man
we'd known as Dr Hiram came clear up off'n the floor. I stepped back and
looked through the spectacles. That one worked. I made a note and laid in
again, harder if anything. It took nine such Holy Blows to get the last,
and two more strokes to be certain. My hands stung and my elbows ached like
the fire of hell, but I was a Warrior. I could take it. That poor man who'd
masqueraded as a preacher, though, he was sadly done in, trying to find a
way to rest without his fire-red fundament touching nothing at all.

I sat and Billy wiped the sweat away from my brow. Durned if leading a
battle tweren't more draining than being a mere Warrior in the Service of
the Lord! I caught my breath and informed Billy, who scratched it onto a
pad. His letterin always had been better'n mine.

"We was right on a few, Billy, but me oh my were there some powerful
surprises. We was right about Agares, the demon of tongues and the
corrupter of words into immoral expression. And we was right about Xezbeth,
the eternal master of lies and legends, the persuader of the innocent. We
were guessing something like Azazel, he of infernal armour and weapons, as
some of the things in that there hutch could not have come from Holy Men,
including that da--durned Girdle of Peter Damian!

"Now for some surprises, Brother Warrior. He has a triumvirate of
power. Fufur, the liar and lust-inducer we were worried might be a foe and
he is, but it's much, much worse. Furfur is backed by Eldonna and no less
than Asmoday hisself." Billy yelped in fear and awe as he wrote.

"Oh, Jeremiah, what we gonna do?"

"We gonna fight on, Brother Billy, fight on and win this day for the Lord
Almighty. But those three together? It will be a true and epic battle, my
brother. Eldonna, the queen AND king of all sexual perversion guards and
feeds Furfur, and the Great Demon of Ultimate Lust, Asmoday, stand behind
them both. It will take some true Power to reject them, but we have
that. Billy, we HAVE THAT in the Holy Spirit itself!"

"Amen, Brother Jeremiah!"

"But there's worse to come." Billy blanched at the thought.

"Yessir, two that I never could have imagined together are in there, not
battling but driving each other and this poor man to greater heights of
evil. Léonard is the master of orgies of demons, and Flauros is the
demon The Great Enemy calls forth to wreak vengeance on other demons! Both
inside this poor, poor mortal man." The aforementioned was sobbing but
coming back to himself, beginning to pull himself up to the side of the
Altar.

"Now I know that the Theology and the Demonologie ain't yore suit of cards,
Brother Billy, but this one's name and form even you know.

"The last demon in there, the one who mastered all of the others and
brought this budding antichrist into our very midst is the demon angel of
soldiers, armies, armour and weapons who on that fateful day will return to
the Service of the Lord. And when he does, Brother -- brace yourself -- he
will ride a pale horse."

A mighty gasp then Billy whispered in stunned awe, "Sabnock? Not Sabnock!"

"Yes, brother, Sabnock himself. I saw one more thing, Brother Billy, and it
may not come as a great shock. Look yonder and tell me what you see."

"Why, that the switch called Moloch, Jeremiah."

"No, my brother, that IS Moloch, the Demon Prince of idolatry and child
sacrifice. It's why it stung so bad; every stroke allowed a little of that
feared demon to feed, not fight, the demons within us all. Why, You'd'a
been free of the Cage of Job in a matter of months were it not for this
fraud of and man and the demon incarnate switch that he carried with him."

I've never seen a fiercer expression, true, than I saw as Billy considered
what Moloch had cost him. He stood slowly and fished in a drawer of the
desk/altar until he found a cup-shaped iron censor half-filled with
sand. Using a price of cloth, he gingerly removed Moloch from his infernal
hooks and jammed it down into the sand where it stood tall and
unabashedly-proud. I watched bemused, unsure of what Billy intended, until
he began to anoint Moloch with the same Holy Oil that was durned near
gluing me to my chair. It took three matches afore the flame caught.

The False Prophet's eyes burned and he screamed and tore at his bonds as
Moloch was consumed in the Holy Fire. Billy opened the high windows to
clear the smoke until Moloch had been completely consumed. He removed the
smouldering stub, that last remnant, and ground it to dust in the sand of
the censor. The whole operation took perhaps ten minutes, the demons in the
poor man weeping and crying their loss with every flicker of flame.

I shook myself, realising that my transfixation on the flame that consume
Moloch were getting this Holy War noplace. I went to the Hutch and began to
assemble what we'd need for the forthcoming Battle as Billy secured the
windows once again to contain the Battle to this here fortress.

The man who'd I always called Reverend was lying belly-flat on the Altar
hand still locked, and I watched the demons react to each weapon, armament
or utensil as the came forth, using their dismay and horror as a guide to
which would be most effective. I was right shocked with the array before
me.

I moved behind Mister Waite and he started dancing and jigging like a man
possessed. Well, okay, he WAS a man possessed. I gave it a thought and
decided to start with a different weapon. I still couldn't remember the
name of the da--durned thing, but it was the one heavy metal one with burrs
inside that wrapped tween the tenders and the manhood. I put a quick stop
the squirming as I stretched back the sac in which this demon-infested man
kept parts that not even the demons wanted to put at risk. It was a matter
of moments afore it was locked in place. I dropped it and he howled through
the bit, cut short as his jump sent that weight dropping HARD against his
eggs.

That took care of the dancing, but not the squeaky pleas and moans and
whines of the demons desperate to make us give up this skirmish. We paid no
never-mind as Billy helped me figure out a right-strange thing. Twas a ring
perhaps an inch across of raw, rough metal. I looked all over the
former-Reverend and had three possible ideas. I discussed all three with
Billy. Big toe and thumb seems unlikely, but when we moved toward the man's
most-prized part, he began to squeal high and mighty, proving our guess
correct.

Billy skinned back his foreskin and I fitted the ring round the head of his
rather-impressive manhood but it would go no further. I whispered to Billy
and he smiled assent. With a massive, open-hand slap upon the fake
preacher's ass, the man lunged forward as I thrust back and the ring was
suddenly locked, rough burrs and all, just behind his cockhead. A high
keening began when I skinned his sheath back over it, locking it in place
and ensuring maximum contact all round.

Next came my personal favourite, one that no way could have been designed
by a Man of God, only be a demon-infested fool. Billy helped me snug the
Girdle of Peter Damian tight against his package, tucking the massive
weight into the pouch and securing it firmly.

Next was a real puzzler. It was a pair of round rings perhaps half a
finger-width wide. They were linked with a long chain, with another
dangling from the middle. When you twisted a little knob, these shiny teeth
protruded further and further in toward the centre. The demons were making
the man shake his head and beg around the bit, trying to persuade us not to
use this weapon, so we were right sure it was a powerful one.

I looked long and hard and noticed that the budding antichrist was doing
everything possible to keep hisself flush to the desktop/Altar. AH! Even
the false prophets can spout wisdom. The man we'd thought was Dr Hiram had
told us clear that the demons would show their own downfall if you let
them.

I had Billy pull him back. When he howled around the bit and resisted, I
made a suggestion. Billy took a firm grip on the Girdle of Peter Damian and
YANKED. I'd seen the effect it had on Cooter the day before and knew the
potential from my own experience, and was not disappointed. The poor
demon-host was up and straining as far back as he could with every muscle
in his frame. I got the little things in place and secure before he
noticed.

Well, that is until I used the knobs. THAT was noticed most attentively by
every cursed demon in there! Oh me oh my, how they howled and whined around
that bridle. I got it to the point that it were clear that another turn and
those teeth my pierce the right nipple, then repeated the procedure on the
left to similar sounds and noises. The was no noise at all, cept for one
that only dogs could hear, when I pulled the dangling chain down and
connected it to the Girdle of Peter Damian.

There was one more item, one looked upon with utter dread by the demons
infesting this poor mortal. I sat with Billy for some minutes turning it
that and that while the demon-preacher tried in vain to find any position
what would give relief to titties, nuts, manhood and reddened ass at the
same time. Billy whispered a bizarre question and we both turned to the
demon-house body and frowned. I whispered back and we cogitated for a
minute.

The thing in question was a long, curved piece of polished-smooth metal. At
one end was a wide nub with lots of little bumps; at the other was a
weight. In the middle was a sudden flaring like a spearhead pointing to the
nub and away from the weight, perhaps an inch wide at the base where it
abruptly vanished back to the thin, curved rod. I balanced it at the flare
and realised the weight was meant to force the bumpy-nub hard downward
into... something. Realisation dawned at the same time in both our faces.

The fake preacher screamed in negation when we slicked the thing up with
oil and started to insert it into his nether hole. It was tiny and smooth,
so it slipped in with no resistance no matter how he clenched and
tightened. When the flange got to the critical point, we all three stopped
breathing for a moment and the former Dr Hiram got eerily still. I punched
it forward, seeing no reason to delay the process and suddenly there was a
real show in progress.

When the demon-infested man lunged forward, the weight crushed his tenders
and ever single horsehair in the Girdle of Peter Damian stabbed like an
angry bee, but the new device swung forward and up. When he pushed back,
the weight below that new thing drove it hard into the nub of flesh deep
inside, sending a surge of delicious pleasure through his body as the
nipple were yanked hard by the chains. The cycle continued until there was
a steady stream of moans and yelps.

I reached out and locked the man's hips. "Now, then, sir. We're gonna take
care of them demons what got hold a you. It is truly gonna enrage all of
them, but it's true needful. This is holy work, you poor demon-ridden man,
but you's gonna get a lot of blowback on the torment those demons
suffer. Now don't hold it in, sir. We're Warriors and want nothing but to
help.

My first double-fisted smack of Ezekiel was a thing of holy beauty. As if
slowed by the Angel of Time so's I could be sure it landed true, Ezekiel
right flew through a perfect arc to land four-square on the poor man's
bee-hind. I watched in slow-time as the ripples of the blow moved out
across his fundament, a wave of little circles rushing out from the point
of impact.

At that one same time, I knew that the heavy weight had just yanked hard
and firm against his sore tenders, and ever prickle-poke of that infernal
Girdle turned into an angry ant biting some part of his manhood, crotch or
balls. The skin sheath would have moved and scrrrrrraped the little ring
across ever single nerve on the back of his cockhead and the sensitive
inside of his foreskin. That sudden jerk would radiate up through that
tight chain to YANK teeth into both nipples.

But last of all would be that unnamed thing, the blow would have lifted it
free from that nubbin of wondrous flesh deep within, but at the final point
of the reaction, the weight at the nether end must have punched hard and
amazing against his sacred pleasure place yet again.

A demon-spawned bellow of sudden pain as each demon in turn howled, then
erupted in exultation from the final punch of pleasure, echoed in the close
room.

And it did thus echo again and again and again as we engaged this Holy
Battle. Every few minutes, Billy and I would switch off. Within perhaps
three such cycles, we heard the demons start to get truly frantic. The
voices went higher and higher, the breathing quicker and quicker, the
whines and whimpers crawled up the scale.

Whack after whack after whack. He finally turned his head full round and
started to beg through the bridle. The screaming and howling seemed done,
so we stopped for a minute. He went plumb crazy at that and started
crying. I reached up and undid the bit and the person who we'd mistake for
a true man of god began to beg and plead.

"Oh, sons, don't stop. Don't stop. The demons are on the ropes, sons. Gag
me again but get back to your work!"

So we did. I watched as he writhed and thrust and realised that something
dangerous was about to happen. I left Ezekiel in the able hands of Billy
and flew, truly flew, into the chapel itself and snatched up the book of
God's Holy Word. I returned, flipping frantically, and found the right
place and spread it beneath him.

Of a sudden, a loud tumultuous pounding erupted from the outer door. Billy
and I shared a look and redoubled our efforts. I took to Ezekiel and put
every ounce of the Power of the Holy Spirit into each stroke. The rhythm
worked and of a sudden, the man known as Waite expelled his demons and
screamed into the bit, wailing and praising the Lord God as his seed
erupted into and leaked though the horsehair of the Girdle of Peter
Damian. Each drip fell as intended, preventing the sin of Onan as the Holy
Word caught his seed, straight upon the Book of Revelation.

Revelation 19:20, to be exact, and the year of the Lord in which we lived:
"And the beast was taken, and with him the FALSE PROPHET that wrought
miracles before him, with which he DECEIVED them that had received the mark
of the BEAST, and them that WORSHIPPED his image."

Abruptly the inner door from the chapel shattered and Deacon Conner and Lay
Minister Parker erupted into the room in a cloud of plinters. They took in
the scene, the demon-infested man still dripping his seed onto the Holy
Writ and weeping in Holy Release; Billy and I, drenched in sweat from the
most-intense battle any of us had ever seen. Deacon Conner's hand shot out
and impacted the advancing Lay Minister's chest.

"Calm thyself, Lay Minster Parker, I think we are in the presence of
holiness, of a new man to take up the Mantle of the Lord. A fresh,
newly-minted man who can lead us to victory against the Great Enemy, a man
to replace the one we believed, in error, to be the True General of the One
True God.

"Brother Parker, one look at the Holy Book and precisely how this young man
has prevented the grievous sin of Onan tells us what we need to know, and
true. Brother Parker, Brother Billy, Let's welcome the Right Reverend
Jeremiah Herrod. We know he's got the Theology. He's showed he's got the
Demonology. Now we just got to get him the Doctor in front a his name.

"Let's get the poor demon-infest man straightened away. I'm right sure that
the new Reverend will be able to tell us just how many more sessions are
required to rid this man of..." He looked down as the list Billy
held. "Whoo-Whee, no fewer than nine demons, at least two of them Great
Princes. I'm guessing at least another dozen. The former Dr Hiram put his
forehead against the Altar and simply sobbed at the news.

"And now we need to check the strongbox. It takes serious coin to get that
Doctor afore a name. Reverend Jeremiah, you've got a long journey ahead of
you, sir."

<eof>

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