Chapter 7

Draft

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The priest devotes his life to God, and those who choose to serve God aren't allowed to join marriage.

It's not right to have sex with women before marriage, and it's wrong to have sex with men. When the succubus first circulated among the rich, your father also warned you to not have intercourse with that beautiful and filthy monster. But 177's neither a woman nor a man, and obviously not a succubus.

No one has said that you can't fuck it.

You looked at the bathtub and then at the ground, thought for a moment, and left the bathroom. You take the plastic sheet back and spread it on the bathroom tiles, spreading it in two layers. 177's Adam's apple moved, the anxious expression just now disappeared, leaving nothing but a blank.

You adjusted the position of the shackles and pulled 177 out of the bathtub, placing it on the plastic sheet. You fix the chain that connects its collar to the concrete column, the tension is moderate so that it won't be strangled by a small displacement, or move outside the plastic sheet. Stains on your robe aren't easy to clean, you take off your robe and leave the underwear inside. Your shirt and trousers are very light in colour, but they are relatively close-fitting. If you pay attention, they won't be contaminated.

177 kneels on all fours, it has its elbows against the ground, like a dog. While you take off your robe, it always looks back at you. When you roll up your sleeves and knelt between its separated legs to hold its waist, it buried its head and pressed it against its forearm, not looking at you anymore.

Your father isn't your biological one, he's also your teacher, a pious priest- so you have never heard of the "birds and bees" story from your teacher. In theory, you know where children come from, but you have no idea how about the specific process. But coincidently, you know how to fuck the devil.

You've been on the battlefield for many, many years.

The door's unlocked. You stand on the steps of the utility room and look down. The soldiers gathered are in a circle, gasping like wild beasts, and a demon knelt in the middle. "Damn it, it's starting to grow back!" You heard the soldier in the middle complain loudly, he picked up the broom and stabbed the broomstick between the bloody legs of the devil.

They have prepared plastic sheets, the soldiers don't need to clean the utility room, but you need to clean the bathroom afterwards. 177's kneeling posture is correct, and your position is also correct. The broomstick is too long and inconvenient to use. Instead, you use a medicine pestle, which is about the same thickness.

It took a small breath when the medicine pestle pressed into the opening, probably because the medicine pestle is stone, unlike the broomstick, with a cooler surface. The muscles on its buttocks were as tight as rocks. After a while, it relaxed a little, but the entrance was still tightly closed; the prodding pestle was sinking, it just didn't open. With your other hand, you open its buttocks to make sure that you're in the right place and forced the stone pestle in slowly.

You worked hard, so hard that you once again doubted whether the broomstick that the soldier grabbed was actually a mysterious instrument. He didn't seem to be strained at the time, was it because soldiers were stronger? You think of the first day you brought 177 back. Its anus was smooth and soft, you could pry it open with your fingers. Ah, there's the difference. Fucking the devil should be a group activity. If you want to do it alone, you'll have to spend more time and effort¹.

Sweat beads on 177's back, its muscles are fully contoured, shiny as if they have been coated with oil. The sphincter was finally stabbed, only halfway through it, it was stuck there as if bitten by the buttocks. You pull out the medicine pestle a little bit and press it in again. With this short pump, the medicine pestle is inserted deeper, almost all of it is in. 177 scrambled forward like it had been hit, it almost slipped and the collar on its neck tightened.

It hurriedly supported its body again and coughed. You wonder if you should relax the chain a bit but felt that it's not necessary. After all, you won't let it hang on the ow concrete pillar. You pull the pestle outwards, the sphincter that resisted you with all its strength just now is holding u back with all its strength. The stone seems to be coated with mucous membranes and feels like it's stuck in asphalt. When you finally took it out, the surface of the pestle was warm to the touch.

177 didn't say a word.

You realize that this will be a difficult project, like pitting a piece of hard ground. You have to repeatedly coax that muscle ring, like a rubber band that's too tight, and may need to create some tears. In that case, it'll take some time to cultivate. Those soldiers definitely don't need to think about this. The devil is a one-time disposable consumable for them, it can be seen everywhere. 177's yours.

Your soul is blessed, what do you think of.

There's a translucent bottle of medicated oil next to the mortar matched with the medicine pestle. You take it and apply it to the stone pestle. The stone-like thing shines under the oily light, the front end is as smooth as a loach. This time, it was much easier to get in than before.

Indeed, you're right, rusty machines need to be oiled. You apply more medicated oil; with the help of this slippery liquid, the in and out of the medicine pestle becomes smoother. Your movements become bigger and bigger, there's a subtle sound of water from the medicine pestle and the sphincter, a small layer of white foam is formed at the joint. The excess liquid drips down 177's crotch.

It's almost ready, at least you think it's almost. Your eyes have been staring at the small piece of flesh that was revealed, the pink intestine is a bit exposed, it caught your eye and hooked it. You don't know why you stare at it. How different are the viscera of a devil and that of a fish? You pull your eyes away and turn to look at 177's back. Its muscles tighten and bulge as you push inside it, moving like waves. You secretly thought that it looks like the back of a statue depicting God's suffering. If your father knows that you think so, he'll surely be heartbroken.

You unzip your pants, take out your own sex organ, and found that it hardened, like every morning. You pull out the medicine pestle and put it aside. You learn from the soldiers and slap your penis a few times, holding it and replacing the medicine pestle.

You feel your scalp tingle.

The inner walls of 177 envelop you, hot, firm, and slippery because of the medicated oil. You've only stuck in the tip yet a terrible heat ignites from the base of your spine, so intense that it makes you restless. You subconsciously want to silently recite scriptures to concentrate, but your waist seems to be self-aware, slamming forward.

Your penis became buried inside 177's body at once, from tip to root, its buttocks flaps against your testicles. It was as if a flash bomb hit your face, you felt your brain roar, and countless white light spots exploded into a firework show. "Omniscient and omnipotent Lord..." You blurt out, the name of God made 177 twitched, and it arched its back like it's been whipped.

Its body cavity shrinks, the soft and sweet inner walls sucks you fiercely, an intense pleasure that you have never felt before rushes to your head, exploding with a bang. You're a good apprentice, you're a good priest, it's not right to be indecent. You treat every morning erection with cold water, the first experience of this level is obviously too much, even for you. You hear the buzz of flames cutting through the air, the devil's fireball landed beside you, and the shock wave lifted you and threw you to the ground. You are dizzy, your eyes are blank, tinnitus invades you, and you see heaven and hell at the same time.

You think about that day again, the group of soldiers have finally found you, there was no sound in the utility room for a while. The way they stare at you reminds you of the time you broke into a group of demons feasting. You found it interesting; the scene of a group of demons surrounding a human corpse is so similar to the scene of a group of humans surrounding a demon.

Your brother walked out of the soldiers, he tidied up his robe in panic and gave you an ugly smile. Ah, ah, Enoch, why are you here? He says. You tell him that father is looking for him, he looks even more flustered.

"That's not a human!" He said, hurriedly gesturing, "It's just a demon soldier, the evil entity that devours our brothers and sisters! This isn't— this isn't indulgence; this is a trial, yes, this is a trial! They kill our brothers, rape our sisters, can't we do the same thing to them? This is fair! This is to get rid of pests!"

You didn't say anything but your brother's voice became louder and louder, as if he was angry with himself. His eyes roamed wildly, shallow anger floated in them, spreading like mist. There was greasy sweat on his nose, he bent down to look at you and said in a low voice, "Don't tell father, alright?"

You are breathing heavily, almost lying on top of 177. 177 was also breathing heavily, he had been flogged by the Holy Words just now- the name of God can also act as an exorcism in the mouth of a sufficiently trained priest. You are sorry about this, you didn't mean it, but your tongue is as soft as your legs, and you couldn't say a word for a while.

A hint of sweetness appeared on your tongue.

Don't tell teacher, your brother said. You don't know why he wants to hide it—the holy book doesn't say you can't fuck the devil—but you nodded. Your brother laughed in relief as if thinking of something. He fumbled through his pocket hastily and took out a candy, stuffing it into your hand.

"It's our little secret, no one will tell!" He pulled out a huge smile, you secretly wondered if his cheek was going to cramp.

Its toffee, like chocolate, it's also munition. It can barely fill the stomachs of the soldiers, but it more importantly stabilizes the spirits of soldiers and refugees. This is very important in battlefields where supplies are never sufficient, so they should be given only to those in need. You aren't hungry and don't need to get calm, so you shouldn't eat the sugar. It's wrong to consume it for pleasure. You know this very well, but occasionally, when watching your peers chew candies contentedly, you feel a guilty desire.

"Eat!" said your brother, anxious again, as if your rejection of the candy made him upset, "Eat, eat it!"

He peeled off the candy wrapper and stuffed the candy into your mouth. The sweet and greasy taste of industrial flavouring spreads on the tip of your tongue. You're obviously not hungry or afraid, but you can't help feeling happy. This isn't right, but it's very sweet. You're reluctant to chew, and just hold it in your mouth. Your brother smiled and took you out of the utility room. You look back for one last time. The soldiers have also finished their work. They broke the devil's neck and fired a shot at its lower body. Even if the body's found, no one will know what happened before it died.

You ran into your father not long after you went out. Your brother was scared to death. The candy in your mouth hadn't been eaten yet, so you were also scared to death. You chewed up the candy in a hurry but bit your tongue too quickly, the pieces of hard candy pierced your mouth at the same time. It hurt terribly, the sweetness disappeared completely, leaving only blood.

Your mouth became full of blood, so your crime was discovered by your father. He punished you and asked you to keep the wound in your mouth as a warning. In half a month, you won't be able to taste any taste. Until now, you've never eaten sugar again.

Your salivary glands produce saliva as if waiting for something to fall on the tip of your tongue. You stroke 177 with your palm; from the back to waist, from lower abdomen to thigh. A certain impulse makes you want to lean over and lick its back; from the back of its neck covered by hair, all the way to its small stubble of a tail. You know that sweat is salty, but you think 177 will taste very sweet, like a huge toffee.

You want to stick out your tongue, but you're afraid to taste pain and blood.

In any case, you have an erection again.

You fucked it four times on the bathroom floor that night, and felt that your mind became filled with cotton. You don't know the meaning of your actions, but you just couldn't stop at all. After you finish, you untie 177's chain and prepare to clean it and yourself. When you pulled 177 from the ground, it suddenly laughed.

"Father." 177 chuckled, "A kind, magnanimous, and pious priest."

You waited for it to follow, but 177 just shook his head and laughed with its hoarse voice.

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Notes:

1-Emitted stuff that didn't make sense.

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PastTimer: Planning to update semi-regularly, on another note, my social life has just come back to life.