Monster Anthology [MxM]

Sacrament

CONTENT WARNING: Bondage, leather play, toys, voyeurism

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned," Wolfram purred, his deep velvetine voice washing over Sebastian as the priest sat in the confessional booth. Wolfram's dark brown hair gently curled down to caress his sun-kissed shoulders, the tanned skin on show with Wolfram's dark tank top. Just above his tank top hung a raven's skull on a black cord; gleaming crystals hung from the same cord on either side of the carved skull. Shimmering honey-gold eyes fixed on the platinum bleach-blonde Sebastian, who did not face him.

Sebastian sat ramrod straight on the confessional bench in his black slacks, black button down, and the priest's collar.

But it wasn't the priest's clothing or the setting that made him sit straight as a board.

It was the leather beneath the clothing that hugged against his skin and his throbbing ass. Leather stretched over his flesh tight enough that he could feel the bite of it every time he breathed or twitched, hard enough to leave indents, but not hard enough to bruise or be excruciating.

The leather caressed his skin, rubbing against his nipples with every breath, and the metal ring in the center of his chest made sure that any of the three straps rubbed him constantly. The black straps wrapped around his waist and over his hips and thighs, holding his legs with the strength of a lover.

Swallowing with some difficulty as he got himself under control, Sebastian said, "Tell me your sins, so that God may have mercy on you and forgive your sins."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the stubbled jaw smile—that curling, predatory smirk with the two silver rings in the center that had first drawn Sebastian to the man. The tilt of his head made his dangling silver multi-feather earrings clink as he pressed closer to the lattice work.

"I have lusted for a man," Wolfram began, his voice low and rumbling in the booth, "and I have lain with him, many times. Too many to count. Just last night, Father, I drew him into my arms. I kissed his pliant, plush lips. He welcomed me into his mouth, and I ravaged him. I peeled his clothing from his slender frame and kissed every inch of his body, but I remained clothed. We tumbled to a blanket by my fireplace, one I had prepared just for him. I laid a cushion under his head and under his hips. Father, I lusted after his body... I drank his naked frame in as the fire danced across his skin..."

Though the lattice barrier of the confessional booth kept him from touching Sebastian, the priest's mind had no trouble imagining—remembering—the caresses and the way Wolfram had gazed at him. He could still hear the crackling of the fire, could still feel the rough wood beneath the blanket.

"I bit his inner thigh," Wolfram continued, "sucked on the flesh, and left a hickey that I'm sure is dark and purple..."

Sebastian's cheeks heated; yes, the hickey this morning was purple, and the straps pressed against the mark, making him feel the bite all over again. His cock plumped in his pants, and Sebastian squirmed on the bench seat—but squirming made the thick intrusion press against his prostate, and the priest had to bite down on his lip to keep himself from moaning.