Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Dennis knew he'd always been different from others. It wasn't just because he was the youngest and frailest child in the Whitaker family, spared from heavy labor. Nor was it solely because he was the smartest, learning to read and write faster than anyone else, prompting his parents to allow him to finish high school and even consider seminary later. It was that his body seems inherently different from birth. Dennis knows he was unquestionably a boy, yet his body somehow differed from his brothers' and father's. His older brother and dad always call him Denise, which always upsets him, though he couldn't get them to stop. Only his mother and fourth sister call him Dennis. Fourth sister Patricia's voice is sweet and clear, and Dennis loved the way she calls his name—he loved Patricia most of all. Five years older than Dennis, she had already dropped out of high school to help at home while he still carried his backpack to class. Sometimes Patricia would pick him up at the school bus stop. Wearing her hand-me-down plaid shirt and old jeans, Dennis would follow her along the muddy country path, humming a tune as they walked home.

Dennis had just started seventh grade, and the other boys at school loved picking on him. Many times, they'd throw his backpack outside or tear up his new textbooks. Dennis didn't dare tell his family because he felt lucky enough to be able to attend school and do less farm work. He didn't want to cause them any more trouble.

One ordinary day during lunch break, Dennis lay on his desk after eating, trying to nap. The discomfort from his developing breasts made sleep restless. Suddenly, someone grabbed him by the collar from behind. He struggled to break free, but it was useless. This was Patricia's shirt—if it got ruined, she'd be heartbroken. He knew it had to be Richard causing trouble again. Richard's farm was close to his home, and Dennis suspected Richard had heard rumors about his physical secrets, which was why he kept picking on him. Richard's intense, staring gaze made Dennis deeply uncomfortable, not to mention the crude, vulgar jokes.

Dennis was now being dragged by the collar toward the restroom by Richard, flanked by his henchmen. Dennis tried kicking them with his skinny legs but missed, losing his balance and crashing to the floor. Richard pinned him down on the bathroom tiles. The impact made Dennis's vision go black for a moment. Richard's hand slid inside his shirt, kneading his newly developing small breasts. Dennis bit down on the hand, enraging Richard. Richard yanked Dennis's collar, tearing open the patched floral shirt. Buttons flew off as Richard's henchmen joined in, ripping at the fabric. In the chaos, Dennis felt his chest being pinched and squeezed repeatedly. Dennis pushed himself up and wrestled with Richard, only to be pulled apart by the henchmen. His right arm was pinned under a foot, his left arm held tight. The soiled undershirt barely covered his chest beneath the torn fabric. Richard, his right eye socket bruised purple from Dennis's blow, screamed in rage, “Today I'll let everyone know you're a freak!” Then he yanked open Dennis's belt and pulled down his jeans. Panicked, Dennis tried kicking Richard to stop him, but the enraged man's strength was terrifying. Soon Dennis's bare legs were exposed to the chilly air. Richard pinched the soft flesh on the inside of Dennis's thigh, sliding his hand down between his legs. Dennis struggled helplessly, trying to clamp his legs together, but Richard forced them apart. Tears welled up quickly in Dennis's blue eyes. Hot tears of humiliation and fear streamed down his cheeks, blurring the face of his tormentor. Dennis tried to kick Richard, but the pants piled around his ankles made it difficult. Dennis felt Richard's hand grab the waistband of his underwear while the other hand slid up his thigh toward his crotch. Dennis closed his eyes in despair, trying to escape the inevitable pain.

A sudden roar interrupted the assault. Richard's fingers stopped their descent. Dennis's eyes snapped open in shock. It was Dr. Robinavitch from the community hospital. What was he doing here? Robinavitch had come to examine the principal today. Afterward, passing by the restroom, he heard the sounds of a struggle and burst in. Seeing Dennis disheveled and pinned to the floor, Robinavitch instantly grasped the situation. He grabbed Richard by the collar, then tossed him aside like a pillow by the shoulders. The henchmen, recognizing the situation, wisely fled. Robinavitch quietly closed the bathroom door, then crouched down to help Dennis sit up. Dennis's right arm was covered in large bruises, his left wrist dislocated from being wrenched, and his lips still bleeding from Richard's attack. With trembling hands, Dennis struggled to pull up his pants. Robinavitch had already turned away, sparing him the last shred of dignity. Dennis smoothed his torn shirt, now lacking any buttons to fasten. Wiping tears from his eyes with the back of his hand, he said to Robinavitch in a trembling voice, “...Thank you.”
——
The burning sensation on his fingertips snapped Dennis back to reality. He'd zoned out again while lighting the candles, his mind drifting back to meeting Robby for the first time four years ago. After that, with Robby's help, he'd left middle school and gone straight to study under his close friend, Reverend Abbot. Now he served as an acolyte. Abbot treated him kindly, and under the Lord's protection, Dennis no longer faced bullying. Back then, when Robby suggested Dennis go straight to the church to study under Reverend Abbot, Dennis couldn't believe they would accept him. He was a freak, he knew he was “odd,” different from the other boys. But Abbot just smiled at him, rolled up his pant leg to reveal his prosthetic leg, and said, “Kid, I'm a freak too.”

Dennis learned that Abbot had once been a military doctor in the army. After retiring, he chose to become a pastor. Abbot rarely spoke of his past military career. After work, Dennis often saw Abbot smoking in a corner, seemingly lost in endless memories. Most of the time, Abbot was serious, seldom smiling. Only occasionally would he offer a small smile to the children attending church or to Dennis. After that incident, Dennis moved into the church to live with Abbot. The Whitaker farm was simply too far away, and living at the church was more convenient. Dennis and his family now only saw each other once a week. He only got to see his mom, dad, and older siblings on Sundays. Dennis missed his mom and sister terribly, and they missed him dearly too. Yet they all agreed that having Dennis stay with Reverend Abbot was better than letting him endure bullying at school. Each time they visited, his sister would bring a small bag of snacks for him. His mother would stroke his round little face over and over, kiss his long eyelashes, and say, “You seem to have grown a little taller since we last saw you.”

Dennis's life as an acolyte at the church was peaceful. Except for Sundays, which were busier due to worship services, Dennis was only responsible for basic cleaning and maintenance tasks. Beyond that, he focused on learning from Abbot. Dennis was a diligent student with an excellent memory. Abbot was amazed by his ability to quickly read and comprehend the Bible. The Abbot, who relied on a prosthetic to support his missing right leg, was always hampered in his movements. Each time he shifted his body, the heavy prosthesis scraped against the floor, emitting a sharp, grating sound. The Abbot loathed feeling like a useless shell of himself, but he dreaded even more the thought of his rationality being consumed by impulsive rage. So he gritted his teeth, swallowing his pain and resentment, and donned a mask of stern, unyielding composure.

His military background and current clerical role made Abbot one of the town's most respected figures. The faithful residents readily trusted this calm, composed pastor. Under his protection, Richard and his henchmen never troubled Dennis again. Yet the scars of bullying still haunted him. When he first moved here, Dennis had nightmares every two or three days. In them, Richard stripped him naked, and the entire town laughed and humiliated him. Or a great blade sliced him clean in two between his legs, and he watched all the blood slowly drain from his body. Dennis would scream and cry in his sleep, waking drenched in cold sweat. Then he'd hear Abbot shuffling toward his room on his prosthetic leg, the creaking of old wooden floorboards echoing through the hallway. Abbot would push open the door, see the terrified boy sitting on his bed, and pull him close, wrapping his arms around the boy's frail frame. Abbot's embrace felt stiff—this former army medic clearly wasn't built for tenderness. His calloused hands gently patted Dennis's back as he whispered, “It's okay. I'm here.” Dennis buried his face silently in the pastor's chest, wiping his tears on the pastor's shirt, enveloped by the scent of tobacco and wood. Abbot would often quote a passage from Isaiah: “Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall, but those who hold hope in the Lord will renew their strength and soar on wings like eagles.” This became Dennis's favorite passage. Whenever the cruel waves of memory crashed over him, he would silently recite these words in his heart, as if still holding the warm hand of Abbot.

Chapter Text

Dennis was sixteen now and hadn't had nightmares for a long time, but for some reason he'd started having dreams that were, well, embarrassing to talk about.

They were dreams within dreams about Abbot. Dennis would first wake up from some indistinct nightmare, then Abbot would come into his room just like before and hold him close. In the dream, Dennis would press his forehead against the pastor's chest seeking comfort, just as he used to. The Dennis in the dream was braver than the one in reality, because the dream Dennis did what the real Dennis wanted to do: wrap his arms around Abbot's neck and kiss his lips. Most of the time, the dream abruptly ended right there.

But once, Dennis dreamed he straddled Abbot's lap, unzipped his fly, and held the priest's cock then sat on it. Dennis shot upright in bed, convinced he'd lost his mind. He gripped his hair tightly, trying to expel those absurd thoughts from his mind, but he knew his lower half was soaking wet. The juices flowing from his pussy had drenched his white underwear.

Dennis burst out of the room and ran outside, splashing cold water on his face to calm himself down. In his panic, he'd forgotten that Abbot always got up early. Seeing Dennis rush out of the room wearing only his underwear and a thin shirt, washing his face with cold water, Abbot asked with concern, “Kid, what's wrong? Another nightmare?” Hearing the familiar voice, Dennis nearly jumped out of his skin. He waved his hands frantically. “No, no, I'm fine, Pastor Abbot. Thank you.” He forced an awkward smile.

Abbot was still unaccustomed to the young man suddenly using his formal title. “Kid, I've always told you to call me Jack. Why the sudden change today?” Abbot chuckled, then inadvertently caught sight of Dennis's collarbone exposed through his wide-open collar, his breasts like a pair of young chicks, and the creamy fullness of his thighs spilling out from beneath his shirt hem. Abbot immediately averted his gaze, staring out the window.

“Dennis, you're grown up now. Stop acting like a child...” Abbot didn't realize when he'd unconsciously clenched his fingers. The Dennis before him truly seemed different all of a sudden—suddenly grown up.

Abbot cleared his throat, then turned and walked straight out of the washroom, leaving behind, “I'm heading to the nearby village today. You stay here and mind the house.” "Abbot knew this wasn't urgent. He didn't need to leave first thing; going a few days later would be perfectly fine. But he suddenly felt he shouldn't stay at the church with Dennis right now. This boy trusted him, looked up to him, depended on him. He owed it to his friend Rooby and to this child's expectations.

Watching Abbot suddenly turn and walk away, Dennis felt less tense, but a wave of disappointment washed over him. Why was Abbot suddenly avoiding him like this? Had he done something wrong? Was he being too childish, fumbling around like a kid and disappointing Abbot? Dennis bit his finger, then silently walked back to his room, silently resolving to take good care of the house.

All day, Dennis didn't allow himself a moment's rest. Since it wasn't Sunday, few parishioners visited, so he only needed to handle basic cleaning and maintenance. He polished the church pews until they gleamed, swept the floors spotless, watered the vegetables in the backyard, and then tidied up the Abbot's room.

The mayor had once suggested building a proper residence for Abbot outside the church, but Abbot had politely declined. Accustomed to the austere life of a soldier, he lived in a simple cottage in the church's backyard. Four years ago, when Dennis arrived, Abbot had given him a small room. The two rooms were separated by Abbot's study and bathroom. Dennis entered Abbot's bedroom. It was immaculately tidy, with a Bible, two cigarettes, and a half-empty bottle of whiskey on the desk, though a thin layer of dust covered the floor. After sweeping, Dennis didn't leave the room but found himself inexplicably drawn to Abbot's wardrobe.

Opening the wardrobe door, the familiar scent of tobacco and wood filled the air. A surge of excitement welled up inside Dennis. He slowly ran his fingers over each garment, feeling the texture of the fabric. Taking a deep breath, he felt a wave of relaxation wash over him, almost like a reflex. Then he noticed an unassuming gray shirt buried in the middle. Pulling it out, he saw it was worn and tattered, never once worn by Abbot. Dennis rushed into his room clutching the shirt, hugged it, and took a deep breath before tucking it under his pillow.

Abbot probably wouldn't notice. It was just an old, unworn shirt. If asked, he'd just play dumb. At this thought, Dennis chuckled to himself, only to be interrupted by doubt and self-loathing.

Why did he do this? Was this stealing? Was he a thief? Was he a bad kid? Dennis covered his face with both hands, feeling his cheeks burn hot with shame and confusion. No, no, no. He hadn't done anything wrong. It was just... he just liked Abbot so much. Liking someone wasn't wrong. Everyone in town liked Abbot. Why couldn't he? And... and Abbot always treated him so specially... At that thought, the images from last night's absurd dream began flooding back into his mind. Dennis's heart raced. He jumped out of bed and went back to the church, cleaning over and over again.
——
The rain began in the afternoon, and by dusk it had grown so heavy that Dennis could barely make out the view outside the window. Hearing the sound of Abbot's car, Dennis dashed out into the downpour without a second thought.

Before he could even open the door, he heard Abbot's pained groan. Dennis hurriedly helped Abbot out of the car, shielding him with an umbrella as he guided him inside. Abbot's trouser legs were soaked from the rain, but Dennis was drenched from head to toe. To avoid dirtying the floor, Dennis left his shoes outside, kneeling barefoot on Abbot's bedroom floor in just his trousers and a rain-soaked white shirt to help Abbot remove his shoes. Dennis knew Abbot's sudden phantom limb pain must have flared due to the abrupt weather change, compounded by forgetting to bring enough medication. After removing Abbot's soaked socks, he hurriedly fetched painkillers. Abbot washed the pills down with whiskey, gradually regaining his senses from the agony.

But when Abbot clearly saw Dennis before him, he began regretting his decision to return. Dennis's brown hair was plastered to his forehead in rain-soaked strands, making his endearing doe eyes appear even bluer. His lips were frozen red, his entire body shivering slightly, not to mention the figure wrapped in a soaked white shirt. For the first time, Abbot saw those soft, petite breasts so clearly.

Abbot gulped down another large mouthful of whiskey and waved Dennis away. Yet for some reason, the usually gentle boy stubbornly refused to leave today, repeating over and over, “Let me take care of you, Abbot. You look in pain. I wanna to help.” As he spoke, his hands pressed against Abbot's thigh, clumsily attempting to ease his pain through massage. Abbot felt his blood surge uncontrollably toward his lower body. Seizing the boy's wrist, his eyes reddened by the whiskey, he barked, “An order is an order. Get out!” Dennis, startled, stumbled out.

Chapter Text

Last night, Abbot lay awake all night. He swallowed over a dozen painkillers with whiskey, drank every last drop of the remaining whiskey, yet still couldn't sleep. He knew he must have frightened Dennis because he hadn't been able to control his ugly desires. He loathed himself for it. Moving his prosthetic limb as silently as possible, he crept to the boy's door. His hand hovered over the knocker for a long time, but he never brought it down.

As Abbot hesitated, the door opened from the inside, revealing the boy's haggard little face. His eyes were still swollen—he must have cried all night. Abbot sighed deeply, furrowing his brow before saying, “I'm sorry, Dennis. I... I'm unworthy to be your teacher. I'll contact the church to arrange for you to study under another pastor...” Hearing this, Dennis felt his blood freeze. He stared at Abbot in shock, eyes wide, but Abbot kept avoiding his gaze.

“You... what did you say? Why? Why??!! WHAT DID I DO WRONG?! WHY!!!” Dennis lost control, grabbing Abbot's shoulders as his eyes quickly filled with tears. "Please, Abbot, I'll change anything you say! I'll do anything you say! I won't act like a child anymore! Please, just give me one more chance!!"

Watching the boy break down suddenly because of his words, Abbot's heart ached terribly, yet it only strengthened his resolve to send the boy away. Dennis was the last person in the world he wanted to hurt. Abbot swallowed hard, gripping the boy's wrist. “Dennis, you have to go.” He stared straight into the boy's tear-filled eyes, meeting that heartbroken gaze. Abbot never imagined his heart could shatter like this again after witnessing so many comrades die. He released the boy's arm, turning to walk away, wanting to hide his own tears.

But the frail boy summoned unexpected courage. Dennis grabbed Abbot's shoulders and pressed his lips against the priest's. Abbot froze, struck dumb with shock, forgetting to push the boy away—though deep down, he knew he could have.

The boy deepened the kiss awkwardly, his small tongue tracing the pastor's lips and teeth. When Abbot finally snapped back to reality, he pushed the boy away. Dennis's cheeks were flushed pink, his lips swollen from the kiss, slightly parted, his gaze hazy as he looked at the pastor.

The inexperienced boy hadn't imagined his body would react so intensely to a mere kiss. Abbot intended to push him into his own room and flee before things became irreversible. But the sixteen-year-old Dennis was no longer the malnourished little bean sprout. He seized the momentum during the struggle, shoving the already immobile Abbot onto his bed before straddling him.

Abbot tried to push the boy away from him. “Dennis, you don't know what you're doing. Stop this!” But the boy ignored the priest's words, stripping off his shirt and underwear as he pleased. Abbot felt his sanity burning away when he saw this boy.

The boy's breasts jiggled like pudding with each movement, and between his legs lay a smooth, hairless virgin pussy, pink swollen lips dripping wet. Dennis pressed his naked body against Abbot's, sobbing, "I don't care! You don't want me anymore! You've abandoned me! Why should I listen to you!”

He clumsily kissed Abbot's lips while sobbing, his legs tightly wrapped around Abbot's body, grinding against him. Desperate, Abbot felt his desire slowly rising. “Please, Dennis, stop! This is wrong! You're only sixteen. You don't know what you're doing. I don't want to hurt you!"

Dennis wiped his tears with the back of his hand and shouted back, “I know! Farm animals do it! Dad... Mom and Dad do it too, because I like you... and you like me, so we should do it! I'm grown up now, I... I can!” Then he fumbled with Abbot's zipper, rubbing his own crotch against Abbot's penis. Abbot felt his last shred of reason vanish. One hand gripped Dennis's waist while the other pushed his own body upward. Dennis hadn't braced himself, and Abbot's penis thrust in a third of the way with little lubrication. The pain made the boy scream, tears streaming down his face.

Abbot quickly adjusted his position to pull out a bit, one hand wiping Dennis' tears while the other rubbed the boy's clitoris. His thumb, calloused from work, rubbed up and down the boy's small clitoris, then slowly stroked over the two labia. Dennis' thighs trembled uncontrollably. Abbot asked softly, “It hurts so much, do you still want to do this?”

The boy nodded through his tears and actually guided Abbot's shaft back inside. Only halfway in, blood gushed out, and the pain made the boy cry even louder. Abbot quickly grabbed the boy's waist with both hands to stop his foolish attempt. “Kid, this isn't how you do it. We have to take it slow. This is your first time.”

Abbot then removed his prosthetic leg. Dennis saw the horrifying scar on his right thigh and curiously reached out to gently touch it. Abbot smiled, then laid the boy flat on the bed. Kneeling between his legs, he licked the boy's freshly deflowered pussy, still dripping blood.

The iron-rust taste of blood reminded Abbot of the battlefield, but in this moment, he didn't need to worry about his own life or anyone else's. All he needed to do was care for this seemingly fragile yet resilient boy before him. He thrust his tongue inside, slowly probing and sucking, making wet slurping sounds. His fingers rubbed the boy's clitoris, then slid up and down the labia, listening as the boy's whimpers gradually transformed into moans of pleasure.

Dennis pressed one hand to his forehead while the other instinctively reached for Abbot's hand. The priest's strong, large palm enveloped his small one tightly, like two sole survivors clinging to each other amidst endless waves. The boy got orgasm faster than the priest had anticipated. With a joyful shriek, a stream of clear fluid mixed with traces of blood sprayed onto Abbot's face. Abbot smiled as he wiped his face, watching the boy—flushed crimson from his first orgasm—lie back with eyes rolled upward.

“You... you're not going to send me away...” Dennis gasped, his fingers reaching for Abbot's, his tone laced with pleading and caution. Abbot grabbed the boy's hand and kissed the back of it. “No one can separate us.” “Shouldn't we continue?” Looking at the boy's still-bleeding little pussy, Abbot shook his head. “Kid, you should rest.” “Then at least let me help you...”

The boy obediently crawled closer, pressing his face against Abbot's erect cock. His innocent blue eyes met Abbot's. Abbot felt certain that the boy will be the death of him. He spread his legs wider to allow the boy to take him in. Abbot's large hand stroked the boy's fuzzy hair as he felt the boy's tender mouth envelop him. Dennis was so petite, Abbot suspected he could practically fuck his way into the boy's esophagus.

The inexperienced Dennis certainly couldn't take the whole length in one go, and every few licks he'd have to pull Abbot's cock out to catch his breath. So he settled for licking the head like a lollipop, kissing and sucking it like a little whore. Dennis was far too inexperienced. In the end, Abbot had to finish himself off with his own hands. The boy obediently pressed his face closer, extending his pink little tongue, waiting for Abbot to shoot his load onto his long lashes and into his mouth.

Chapter Text

The little boy, having tasted the sweetness, began to lose all sense of restraint. Many times, when Abbot worked late into the night at his desk, he'd hear the boy creaks open the door. Clad in his pajamas, the boy would climb onto the man's lap, his chubby thighs rubbing against the pastor's trousers. He'd wrap his arms around Abbot's neck, rubbing his fuzzy hair against the man's chin. The priest tried to push him away, but Dennis clung like an octopus, refusing to let go.

When Abbot attempted to scold him, Dennis's doe-like eyes would well up with pitiful tears, and Abbot couldn't bring himself to continue. Looking down at the spoiled boy nestled in his arms, Abbot sighed softly with a smile. He pinched Dennis's shoulder and pressed a kiss onto the boy's peach-like cheek.

“Why aren't you sleeping? It's very late.” Abbot wrapped one arm around the boy's waist to steady him while flipping through the Bible with the other hand. “I'm not sleepy. I miss you so much, I want...” The boy stared blankly at the pastor's face, then shyly swallowed that word. Abbot understood perfectly what the boy was hinting at.

His ears began to flush as he placed a hand on the boy's thigh, caressing his soft, pale skin. Leaning close to Dennis's ear, he whispered, “Does it still hurt?” His warm breath tickled the boy's neck, making him shiver violently. “No... it doesn't hurt anymore...”

Before the boy could finish his sentence, Abbot's hand slid beneath his nightgown, moving upward to knead the pair of small breasts that haunted his dreams. The touch was slightly too rough, and Dennis couldn't help but moan and gasp, his tiny hands clutching at Abbot's clothes. The priest's other hand reached between the boy's legs, finding the wet little pussy without any cover. “Why aren't you wearing any underwear, Kid?” Abbot asked, feigning ignorance. The boy blushed, stammering for a moment before finally muttering with his head bowed, “For... convenience.”

“Convenient for what?” Abbot scooped the boy up, placing him on his desk. Standing between Dennis's spread legs, he gripped the boy's thighs and bent his body forward, exposing the dripping wet little pussy to the air. Seeing Abbot like this for the first time, Dennis was both excited and nervous. Swallowing hard, he covered his face and stammered, “Convenient for you to... put it in.” “What did you say? I didn't catch that.” “It's convenient, it's convenient for you to thrust in me!” Dennis pulled his hands away, his face flushed as he repeated his words loudly. Abbot couldn't help but laugh, but his hands remained firmly pinned the boy's legs to the desk. The boy's body was even more supple than he'd imagined, yielding beneath his touch like an opened clam, obediently exposing itself.

You know what to do, right? Show me. Abbot watched the shy boy calmly as he slowly slid his hand between his legs, awkwardly rubbing his clit. When the juices flowed more freely, he spread his labia with his fingers, slid his middle finger inside, and began shallow thrusting. With each stroke, he let out sticky moans, his mouth agape, his hips going limp, his blue eyes losing focus in pleasure. Abbot, his pants straining to the point of bursting, asked Dennis, “Ready?” “Mmm... y-yeah... ready.”

Abbot leaned down, taking Dennis's nipple into his mouth. He licked the boy's breasts that like a pair of baby rabbits, feeling the nipples slowly harden under the stimulation of his tongue and teeth. More fluid flowed from below, and the boy arched his back, pushing his chest into Abbot's mouth, his moans growing increasingly lustful. Abbot eagerly unzipped his pants, gripped his hard cock, and rubbed the tip along the boy's soaking wet, tight slit, drawing a small shriek from him. “Please... please put it in...” Dennis's face flushed crimson, his lower lip bitten as he begged Abbot.

Abbot took a deep breath, aimed at Dennis's little pussy, gripped the boy's plump thigh with one hand, and slowly pushed his cock inside. The stinging pain at the point of entry made the boy's eyes widen. His body arched as he cried out, “It hurts!! It hurts so much... I can't do this, please, I can't!”

Abbot covered the boy's eyes with one hand while pinching his thigh with the other, leaning close to whisper, “It won't hurt for much longer, Kid.” Then he thrust his hips forward, driving himself deep inside. The sudden, searing pain made Dennis gasp sharply, tears streaming down his face as he began to sob uncontrollably with Abbot's slow, deliberate thrusts. Too deep, too full. Dennis felt as if Abbot had thrust straight into his womb. Tears slid from the corners of his eyes, disappearing into his brown curls.

Could he get pregnant? Could he bear Abbot's child? Would that mean he could stay with Abbot forever? Dennis stared up at the ceiling, his arms still wrapped around Abbot's neck, silently pondering these thoughts. The initial pain gradually subsided, replaced by a strange, aching fullness gathering in his lower abdomen.

Abbot spread Dennis's legs wider, each thrust accompanied by lewd wet sounds. Blood and juices of Dennis provided perfect lubrication, and his cries of pain slowly transformed into sweet, syrupy moans. Through tear-filled eyes, the boy gazed at the priest. The priest responded with a kiss, savoring Dennis's lips as soft as petals, swallowing his cries mingled with pain and pleasure.

Abbot easily discerned the boy's sweet spot from the shift in his voice, ensuring each thrust aimed precisely at the spot where the boy clenched tightest. The boy's continuous moans filled the small room and drifted out the window. If not for the secluded location of the churchyard in the town's outskirts, the entire town might have heard this scandal. Still, Abbot cautiously covered Dennis's mouth. If he wanted to stay with his boy forever, he needed to take this secret to the grave.

The boy whimpered, his unfocused blue eyes staring blankly at Abbot, his tight little pussy still clenching. Abbot held one hand over Dennis's mouth while grabbing the boy's ankles with the other, thrusting deeper. The boy's beautiful blue eyes began to roll back, long lashes trembling. His mouth instinctively opened to lick Abbot's palm, his pussy clenching tighter still. His tits jiggled with each thrust, his entire body worked raw, glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. Like a rabbit in heat, he trembled, legs splayed wide, waiting for cock to plunge inside.

The once-shy boy who always carried a Bible, dressed in shirts and trousers, blushing at the slightest exchange with strangers—now lay spread-eagled on the table like the most depraved whore, naked and pinned down. legs spread wide, his swollen pussy spurting bloody juices as he was fucked. His moaning mouth was gagged, yet he shamelessly licked the gag with his tongue. Everyone—even Dennis's parents and siblings—had only ever seen his shy boy side. But this little whore impaled on his cock belonged solely to Abbot. For the first time in his life, Abbot felt such an intense, almost twisted possessiveness toward another person. He was astonished by his own thoughts—even toward his wife before the war (Abbot's wife divorced him during the war), he had never harbored such maddening desires.

Abbot felt as if a light had pierced the darkness of his long-suppressed soul. He began to gloat inwardly, yet couldn't help but grow tense. Too much had been taken from him already. This time, he must protect Dennis, ensure the boy belonged to him forever.

With this thought, Abbot instinctively tightened his grip, thrusting harder and deeper until the boy's face flushed crimson, contorted in pain as he struggled to push Abbot's hands away. Only then did the priest regain some clarity, slowing his pace slightly. Dennis gasped for breath, coughing as he gulped down hard-won oxygen. Then, whimpering, he told Abbot, “I... I need to pee.” Shamefully covering his eyes, Dennis remained pinned beneath the relentless pounding.

Hearing the boy's shy words, Abbot flashed a satisfied smile before sealing his lips with a kiss. He quickened his thrusts against the boy's sweet spot once more, muffling the boy's wanton moans within his mouth as the boy's entire body shook with increasing intensity. Dennis felt his lower body grow increasingly sore and swollen until he completely lost control. Abbot's coarse pubic hair relentlessly stimulated his clitoris and urethra until he squirted onto Abbot's cock, then lost control and urinated. “I'm sorry...” Sweat-drenched and slightly dehydrated from being fucked, Dennis tearfully apologized to Abbot, collapsing onto the wooden desk like a broken doll, sobbing softly.

But Abbot hadn't come yet. He gently bit the boy's collarbone, leaving his own mark, and continued thrusting into the boy's stretched-open pussy. The mixture of blood and juices had foamed from the pounding, coating their joined bodies. After dozens more thrusts, he shot his load deep into the boy's womb. He then lifted the exhausted boy off the desk, carried him to his bedroom, laid Dennis on the bed to rest, and brought him a glass of water. He watched as the boy gulped it down in one go.

Chapter Text

That night, Dennis slept soundly. Before bed, Abbot gently carried him to the bathroom, lowering the slender boy into a bathtub filled with hot water. The boy closed his eyes in comfort, stretching his body in the tub, exhaling tiny bubbles beneath the surface, and smiling at Abbot. Abbot slid his hand between the boy's legs, carefully using his fingers to scoop out the semen he'd ejaculated inside him. The priest's curved fingers scraped against the boy's sensitive inner walls. Before he could push his fingers deeper, Dennis covered his mouth and climaxed again.

Watching the corners of the boy's eyes flush crimson with lust, a complex wave of emotion surged within Abbot. It was a mix of ecstasy at possessing this pure soul completely, disgust at his own indulgence of desire, and deep anxiety about the future. He had lost control like this, ejaculating inside the boy. Though he had later removed his own semen, there was no guarantee of 100% contraception. Watching the boy fall asleep, Abbot returned to his own room. Pacing back and forth while smoking, he thought: This child was destined to become a priest.

Back then, Abbot had sat across from Dennis's parents and his close friend Robby, looking into the couple's earnest eyes and Robby's resolute expression as he promised to take good care of the Whitaker family's youngest son, Dennis. How had things spiraled out of control today, leading to this situation in bed? The man sighed heavily. Contraceptives weren't freely available; they required a doctor's prescription. That meant he'd inevitably have to turn to Robby. Anyone else would only complicate matters further. Abbot took a long drag on his cigarette, rubbing his temples in frustration as he pondered how to explain all this to his friend. His hand instinctively reached for the liquor bottle on the table, only to discover the whiskey had already been drained dry.

Meanwhile, the exhausted yet satisfied boy had long since drifted into sleep. In his dream, Dennis's belly swelled like a balloon until he gave birth to a tiny infant. Before Dennis could discern whether the baby inherited his blue eyes or Abbot's brown, or his light brown hair or Abbot's dark brown, he was jolted awake. Abbot looked weary, his eyes rimmed with red. “Kid, I need to head out to the surrounding villages. There's unfinished business from last time. I have to go.” Seeing the boy's face ready to burst into tears, Abbot quickly planted a kiss on his cheek. “Don't cry, sweetheart. I'll be back in three weeks. I'll call you every day.” Watching the man make his earnest promise, the boy finally held back his tears and nodded. “You better not go back on your word.”
——
Sitting in the car, Abbot took a long drag on his cigarette. For the first time, he felt like a coward. The man who had never flinched on the battlefield now felt anxious and uneasy in the presence of a sixteen-year-old boy.

He knew he was running away, but he needed this time to figure out where the path he was walking truly led, and what consequences it would bring to this innocent, naive boy. He needed time to think, yet he had already contacted Robby to get the birth control pills. He'd made up an story: an unfortunate girl had sought his help, raped but too afraid to report it, dreading the social fallout yet unwilling to abandon her studies. So she'd asked Robby to prescribe her a high dose of birth control pills. (According to records, Nebraska had oral contraceptives at that time, but they required women to take them regularly over the long term. Emergency contraception wasn't available. Taking regular birth control pills after the fact was essentially useless. However, there was a method involving a short-term high-dose contraceptive regimen for emergency contraception, with a success rate of about 75%). After Abbot left, he can secretly hand it to Dennis, who would then deliver it to the nonexistent girl. Before leaving, he also instructed Dennis: take the pills Dr. Rooby gave without any questions, and consume them on the dates he specified.

Robby agreed over the phone, believing that aiding a violated, innocent girl far outweighed protecting a blood clot carrying rapist genes—a principle universally acknowledged as common sense.

Yet after the call, Robby and his colleagues were urgently dispatched to nearby Sutton Village. A village of barely over a hundred residents. A gang of heavily armed, violent fugitives passed through, killing 13 people. What pained Robby most was that the victims were mostly elderly and children with limited mobility. Despite Robby and his colleagues giving their all, they were powerless against the gunshot wounds—fatal injuries that even young adults would struggle to survive. By the time everything was handled, three days had passed.

Robby bitterly recalled his promise to Abbot, keeping a watchful eye for any troubled young woman seeking treatment. But to his sorrow, despite questioning every colleague, there was no trace of her.

Disgusted with his own incompetence, Robby took leave from his superiors and went alone to the church. He needed to temporarily distance himself from the antiseptic and blood. Though Robby and Abbot practiced Judaism and Protestantism respectively, they were first and foremost dear friends, and only secondarily adherents of different faiths. Abbot had always tacitly allowed Robby to enter his residence at any time, even stay in his room. Long ago, they had shared more than just a bedroom, a cigarette, or a glass of whiskey...

Only when Robby unlocked the door did he recall Abbot's recent absence. What met his eyes was the slender boy he had once saved, Dennis, who offered his rescuer a shy smile.

Chapter Text

Abbot had left. The villagers knew the pastor hadn't been around lately and rarely visited the church. The Whitaker farm had been busy too, leaving Mom and his sister no time to visit him. Dennis felt terribly lonely.

With Abbot gone, he'd forgotten the task the pastor had entrusted to him before leaving, since Robby wouldn't be arriving for several more days. Hearing a noise outside, Dennis rushed to the door, thinking Abbot had returned early. Only to find Robby standing there, Dennis's slight disappointment was replaced by a quiet sense of joy.
——
After Dennis began living at the church to study under Abbot, he occasionally helped Robby at the town's community hospital. Before that, Abbot, a former military medic, had always made time to assist Robby there. With Dennis's arrival, they now had an extra pair of hands.

Though young, Dennis approached his tasks with remarkable diligence and treated patients with thoughtful care. Robby was eager to mentor this eager learner, assigning him basic nursing duties. Robby and Abbot had even considered funding the young man's medical school education, though they weren't sure if the Whitakers would support their son pursuing that path. Clearly, becoming a pastor was the best choice for this son of poor farmers. Yet mastering basic medical knowledge could only be beneficial. Thus, Robby spared no effort in teaching this promising young man during his free time.

While Dennis was helping out at Rooby's place, a few amusing incidents happened. Once, a few rats broke into the community hospital, giving Rooby's colleagues quite a scare—especially Dr. Colins. Most of them came from middle-class or higher backgrounds and rarely encountered rats in their daily lives. But for Dennis, a farm boy, this was nothing out of the ordinary. Santos gave him the nickname “Huckleberry,” and every time Robby thought of that moniker, he couldn't help but chuckle.

Another time, Dennis went to help pick up medicine. Before Dr. Mohan could remind him to tighten the cap before shaking the bottle, the milky-white liquid splashed all over him.

Robby happened to walk by and saw the boy's shocked and flustered expression—both pitiful and amusing. Looking closer, the gelatinous white liquid had landed on the boy's long lashes, trickling downward. He awkwardly wiped it away with the back of his hand to keep it from getting in his eyes. Following its path downward, the milky liquid had also trickled into the boy's slightly parted lips. Further down, it flowed along his slender neck toward his collarbone, finally disappearing beneath his collar. Robby froze for a moment, realizing he'd stared for too long. Clearing his throat, he said, “Go change your clothes,” then walked away quickly.

But the hospital had no spare uniforms left for Dennis to change into. Dana found the boy a clean hospital gown, and seeing him in the loose-fitting garment only made Robby feel more unsettled. The loose collar exposed large patches of the boy's creamy skin and collarbone. The back of the gown was held together by only a few ties, allowing glimpses of his delicate shoulder blades and slender waist through the fabric. White briefs hugged his firm, rounded buttocks. As he walked, the soft flesh on his thighs jiggled with each step. Robby felt his throat tighten. He took a few long strides to catch up, his hands moving almost involuntarily to grip the boy's shoulders. Robby could smell the faint scent of myrrh and frankincense wafting from Dennis's hair.

Dennis was still adjusting to the oversized hospital gown when suddenly he felt large hands grip his shoulders. Robby's touch was so warm, sending a flutter through the boy's heart. His cheeks grew hot as he turned his head, meeting Robby's gaze with clear, confused blue eyes. Robby's throat tightened again. Patting the boy's shoulder, he said, “You should go home and rest today. You've done more than enough.”
——
Dennis had never seen Robby so distraught before. The Dr. Robby he remembered was always calm, dependable, and methodical—always offering an approving smile at Dennis's efforts and progress, always eager to unlock the boy's potential. Dennis liked Dr. Robby.

But now, the doctor who always smiled at him looked like a walking corpse—his eyes dull and lifeless, his expression filled with anguish, muttering incoherently. Dennis clasped Dr. Robby's large hand tightly, gently stroking it, and recited the phrase Abbot had taught him, his favorite: “Even youths grow tired and weary and young men stumble and fall, but those who hold hope in the Lord will renew their strength and soar on wings like eagles."

A flicker of light returned to Robby's eyes as he forced a bitter smile. “Abbot taught you that, didn't he...” The man gripped the boy's hand tightly. “I don't know if I actually believe in God, especially on days like today.” Seeing the exhaustion and sorrow in Robby's eyes, Dennis's heart ached. He stood on tiptoe, wrapped his arms around the doctor's neck, and held him tightly. He felt the doctor exhale a long sigh and return the embrace, his arms closing around Dennis's shoulders. Dennis sensed Robby's body relax. They clung to each other, their spirits nestled together, souls melting into one, as if in that moment, the vast universe held only them.
——
The panic slowly receded. As his awareness gradually returned, Robby found himself seated at the dining table. The aroma of stew wafted from the kitchen—Dennis had made dinner for him. The boy carefully placed the steaming pot on the table. Robby felt his eyes sting, attributing it to the hot steam—or so he told himself. He didn't want to show too much vulnerability in front of Dennis, knowing the boy still needed him. Robby took a bite. The savory blend of potatoes and beef awakened his taste buds. Meeting the boy's expectant gaze, he smiled. “It's really delicious. Thank you, Dennis.” Dennis beamed with satisfaction.

Chapter Text

Dennis heard about the tragedy that had struck Sutton Village from others, and understood why Dr. Robby had suddenly appeared at the church in such a distraught state. Knowing that Robby and Abbot had been close friends for years, Dennis simply watched as Robby moved into Abbot's room. In Dennis's eyes, Robby and Abbot were both similar and different. As a former military doctor, Abbot possessed a more intense and volatile temperament; war had left an indelible mark on his soul. Robby, however, was more subtle and profound, his expression always tinged with compassion.

Back then, Abbot and Robby were kindred spirits who became close friends, but differing ambitions led them down separate paths. Abbot, determined to defend his homeland, resolutely headed to the battlefield, while Robby, chose to stay behind and treat the townspeople. After the war, Abbot's youthful vigor faded, replaced by a broken body missing his right leg and a soul shattered by trauma. Robby, too, was no longer the hopeful young doctor of old. Having witnessed countless deaths and his own profound helplessness, the bright light in his eyes gradually dimmed beneath shadows of exhaustion and sorrow.

Dennis could read the sorrow deep within Robby's soul, just as he had once read Abbot's. He wanted to spend more time with his grieving benefactor. When Robby sat on Abbot's bed, lost in endless thoughts, Dennis would sit beside him, squeezing his small, soft hand between Robby's large ones and holding on tightly, silently telling Robby he was not alone in that moment. Robby found himself somewhat surprised that with this quiet boy's presence, he seemed to emerge from his loneliness and helplessness more quickly. So each time the boy's small hand grasped his own, he would clasp Dennis's hand tightly and look into those beautiful blue eyes.

During the days Robby spent sitting on Abbot’s bed deep in thought, he ate little, Dennis took on the task of cooking because Dennis wanted to take good care of Robby, which made Robby feel quite embarrassed. One afternoon, watching Dennis head toward the kitchen as usual, Robby called out to him, “Dennis, let me cook from now on. You've taken care of me more than enough.” Dennis gave a small smile and went to sweep the house.

In the kitchen, Robby heard several urgent, rough knocks on the door. He thought it might be a villager, but a sense of unease crept in. Everyone knew the pastor wasn't around these days—who would be knocking so late? Recalling the massacre in Sutton Village by fugitives days prior, Robby retrieved the 12-gauge shotgun Abbot had stashed in the closet.

Just then, he heard Dennis open the door, followed by the boy's muffled scream and a string of vicious curses. Robby fired directly at the dark figure, who spun away and fled. Robby chased after him only to find the man already mounted on a horse. Robby fired another shot, seemingly hitting the fugitive's thigh, but the startled horse bolted at full speed, vanishing into the darkness within moments.

Hearing the gunshots, nearby villagers rushed over to check if Robby and Dennis were injured. Soon after, the police arrived. Only then did Robby learn that the man was indeed a fugitive, though his current whereabouts remained unknown. Dennis hadn't been able to see the man's face beneath the mask either.

After asking their questions, the police and concerned villagers departed. After everyone left, Robby knelt on the ground, holding the boy tightly. His eyes filled with tears, as if the boy might vanish the moment he loosened his grip. The boy's trembling body, shaken by fear, gradually calmed. He clung to the doctor, burying his face in the crook of his neck and repeating over and over, “I'm okay.”

Dennis sensed Robby was still trembling. He gently pushed Robby's shoulders back until he could meet his gaze. In those brown eyes, Dennis saw vulnerability and unease—a look that reminded him of Abbot's eyes. Looking at Robby, Dennis spoke softly yet firmly: “I'm not hurt, Robby. I'm right here.” Then Dennis closed his eyes and pressed his lips to the doctor's trembling mouth.

He felt Robby's body stiffen, trying to push him away, but Dennis wrapped his arms tightly around Robby's neck, holding him close and deepening the kiss. The startled doctor slumped backward onto the floor. The boy straddled him, his legs clamping tightly around Robby's muscular waist as he kissed him passionately.

Robby's last shred of sanity urged him to stop this absurd drama. He reached out to grab the boy's thigh, intending to pull him off, but the moment his hands touched the smooth, plump flesh, they refused to let go. Sensing Robby's distraction, the boy seized the moment to push the doctor completely onto the floor, pressing himself tightly against Robby. A pair of still-developing small breasts pressed against Robby's broad, firm chest. Robby could feel his own heartbeat resonating in perfect sync with the boy's. At the same time, Robby felt his cock straining against his pants, nearly bursting free because of the friction against the boy's thigh.

Robby rose, effortlessly reversing their positions. One hand cradled Dennis's nape as he pinned the boy beneath him. Thankfully, Dennis's thighs had shifted away from Robby's crotch, allowing him to regain some clarity. The doctor yanked the boy's hands away from his body, one hand clamping both wrists to the floor while the other braced his upper weight. “Dennis, what are you doing?” Robby didn't know why he asked this obvious, stupid question. The boy's face flushed red as his legs wrapped around Robby's waist. He bit his lower lip. “I... I just want to stay with you forever... Please... please...” His voice cracked, on the verge of tears.

Seeing the boy's tear-filled expression, Robby's heart softened. He scooped the boy up in his arms, the boy's legs wrapping even tighter around him. Robby tried to set him down on the sofa, but Dennis refused to let go, clinging to him like a koala while crying even harder.

Robby tugged at his hair, sighed, and settled for supporting the boy's small bottom with one hand while gently patting his back with the other, letting the tears and snot smear across his chest. The boy's thighs clamped tightly around the doctor's waist. A wave of confusion washed over Robby. Logically, Dennis, with his monotonous life, should still be a virgin. How could he be so forward...

“Dennis, can you tell me if anyone has done something to you that made you feel uncomfortable?” Robby looked worriedly at the boy in his arms, wiping away tears. Dennis shook his head, then leaned in to kiss Robby. Robby pushed him away, frowning. ”Who taught you to do that?" “Nobody taught me.” Dennis began gazing at Robby again with that look—both lustful and pitiful. Robby sighed once more. Sitting on the sofa, the boy still clung tightly to him, sliding effortlessly onto Robby's lap.

Robby cleared his throat awkwardly, then gripped the boy's shoulders, forcing him to look him in the eye. “You don't have to answer this, but I'm worried about you. I need to know... um... have you made out or had sex with anyone…..?” Robby watched Dennis's eyes go blank. After a moment of dazed silence, the boy lowered his head and mumbled, “I did it with Jack... I asked him to do this...”

Robby felt as if he'd been punched in the gut. He never imagined Abbot would “care for” the child he'd entrusted to him this way. Rage surged through him. “When did it start?” “A few days ago...” Robby felt the world spin again. He didn't know what was happening to him—disappointment and rage toward Abbot, mixed with a hint of... jealousy?

Robby and Abbot had shared a passionate youth, but growing differences had driven them apart. After the war, they reconciled, yet only as friends, bound by an unspoken understanding. He never imagined Abbot, who always appeared restrained and patient, would secretly be involved with Dennis. Suddenly, Robby recalled the pitiful girl Abbot had asked him to help. Then, looking at Dennis sitting on his lap, he found his answer.

Noticing the shifting shadows in Robby's eyes, Dennis spoke cautiously: “Jack didn't hurt me or force me. It was all my choice. I seduced Jack...” I like Jack, and I like you too..." With that, Dennis leaned in to suck on Robby's neck, gently biting with his small canine teeth. His arousal soaked through his underwear, shamelessly rubbing against Robby's erection beneath the fabric.

Robby gripped the boy's nape, forcing him to meet his eyes. “Tell me, how did you seduce Jack?” Robby didn't know why he was doing this, but the boy slipped off his own shirt, pressing his lips back onto Robby's while undoing button after button on Robby's shirt. Robby swiftly stripped off his own shirt, one hand gripping the boy's slender waist while the other kneaded his firm buttocks. They kissed with abandon. Dennis felt Robby's thick stubble graze his cheek, tickling him slightly, but he adored the faint scent of antiseptic lingering on Robby's skin.

Robby pulled down the boy's already soaked underwear. A silver thread of Dennis's own juices stretched between his pussy and the fabric. Robby first rubbed the boy's clit with his thumb, then slid his entire palm rapidly over the boy's pussy until lewd squelching sounds filled the room. Dennis's juices splattered everywhere. The boy let out a kitten-like cry, his body as ripe as a peach.

Then Robby cupped his hands, hoisting the boy's legs onto his shoulders. He buried his face between Dennis's thighs, parting his labia with his tongue and thrusting his tip inside. Robby's coarse stubble ground relentlessly against the boy's sensitive groin and pussy, driving Dennis's moans into a frenzy of depraved lust. His entire body trembled with pleasure, his hands clutching Robby's shoulders helplessly as his legs clamped tighter, terrified of losing balance and falling. Robby gripped the boy's soft thighs firmly, thrusting his tongue deeper while grinding his nose against the boy's clitoris, swallowing every last drop of his juices.

Robby carefully laid the boy on the sofa. Dennis, still reeling from his climax, was limp as a ragdoll, sprawled across the couch with his legs splayed wide. Robby rolled the boy over, gripping his hips to position him kneeling on the sofa with his back to him.

Dennis, his thighs aching and weak, struggled several times before managing to kneel. The doctor gripped the boy's hips with one hand while holding his own cock with the other, thrusting it all the way in. Dennis let out a sharp cry, his balance lost as his head slammed into the sofa cushion. But Robby grabbed his waist firmly, pinning him tightly onto his shaft. Holding the boy's hips to keep his ass raised, Robby began slowly accelerating, Each thrust hit the boy's cervix, his coarse pubic hair rubbing against the boy's swollen clitoris and labia. His pubic bone slammed against the boy's supple buttocks. Robby spanked the boy's buttocks with each thrust, and with every slap, Dennis whimpered and trembled, clenching tighter.

Robby lowered his body, his muscular chest pressed against the boy's slender, beautiful back. He held him tightly from behind, then thrust faster and deeper. Dennis nearly screamed. Then the doctor gripped the boy's neck, squeezing just hard enough that the slight oxygen deprivation doubled the pleasure. Dennis's blue eyes began to roll back as he neared climax. His back arched, his thighs tensed, and he came, squirting over Robby's thrusting cock before collapsing face-first onto the sofa, burying his head in the cushions.

Robby simply grabbed the boy's thighs, hoisting him up like a wheelbarrow. The boy's lower body hung in the air, his little pussy still pulsing and squirting, tears streaming down his face from the pounding. It felt like the doctor's cock was about to pierce right through to his abdominal cavity. Robby felt himself close to climax. He lowered the boy's legs, pressing his entire weight onto him, nearly fucking him into the sofa. One hand covered the boy's mouth as he thrust dozens of times before exploding inside the boy's tight hole.

Robby dozed off holding Dennis on the sofa. When he pulled out to shower, he could still feel the boy's insides reluctantly clinging to him. A popping sound echoed as he withdrew. Robby chuckled softly, teasingly pinching the boy's clit, eliciting a faint moan. In the bathroom, the doctor pinned the boy against the wall for another round. His voice, already hoarse from screaming, could barely make a sound. Only his trembling thighs and the pussy that kept squirting told Robby how much he was actually enjoying it.

Chapter Text

Meanwhile, in the surrounding villages, the abbot felt increasingly unsettled as he faced his congregation. He was ashamed of himself, for his attention had strayed from his duties—constantly drawn back to Dennis's blue eyes and childlike smile. He felt like a coward, unable to face the faithful who trusted him, too afraid to return to Dennis, and utterly incapable of accounting for his actions to his God.

By nightfall, lying in bed, Abbot saw Dennis's every expression vividly before him. He reached for the phone, desperate to hear the boy's voice. But on the other end, the boy—exhausted from the encounter and drugged by the pills Robby had given him—was already asleep. Abbot heard Robby's voice instead: “Hello, this is Dr. Robinavitch. Reverend Abbot isn't available right now. I'm a friend of his and can take your message.” “Robby, it’s me……”

Robby froze, his other hand still resting on the boy's slender waist. He instantly regained the doctor's usual composure and restraint, though deep within him surged anger at Abbot's concealment of the truth and lies, along with an indescribable jealousy. Suppressing his emotions, Robby spoke to Abbot in a low, steady voice: “I'm in your room right now with Dennis. He's exhausted and needs to rest.” Robby told Abbot, enunciating each word deliberately.

Hearing Dennis's name, Abbot felt his heart skip a beat. “Robby, you... what did you do to him?”

Robby struggled to contain his rage. “I did what you should have done but didn't dare. I took the medication you had me prescribe for that ‘girl’ back then. Abbot, it turns out that girl never existed at all, right!?”

Abbot plunged into despair and rage, his voice trembling. Yet he couldn't deny it—his own avoidance had inflicted secondary harm on Dennis. “I... I... I never meant to...”

Just then, Dennis stirred awake at their voices. Groggily catching Abbot's tone, the boy instinctively reached for the phone. Dennis took the phone, his voice still hoarse from sleep and tinged with the sweetness of recent intimacy. “Jack, why aren't you coming back? I miss you so much. When will you return? I took the medicine Robby gave me like you told me to... What kind of medicine was that?”

Dennis's words, dripping with longing for Abbot, only confirmed Robby's suspicions. Robby wrapped his arms tightly around Dennis from behind, his large hand squeezing Dennis's waist deliberately, provoking an intimate sigh meant for Abbot to hear—a declaration of war. Abbot's composure shattered completely. He couldn't bear hearing Dennis call out to him while in someone else's embrace, especially Robby's.

Abbot slammed the receiver back onto the cradle, his chest heaving violently. The phantom pain in his right leg felt like a red-hot branding iron. The priest finally understood what he had fled from—and what he had lost. Grabbing his car keys, his eyes blazing with rage fueled by betrayal and jealousy, he knew he had to go back. He had to take his boy back.

As he dragged his heavy prosthetic leg and pushed open the house door, the sound of the rain seemed to be quiet. He saw Robby sitting on his bed, wearing a worn gray shirt—an old piece from his wardrobe—holding the half-naked Dennis in his arms. Dennis's head rested in the crook of Robby's neck, his arms wrapped around his shoulders, his face streaked with tears and flushed with the aftermath of passion, like a tamed little animal.

Robby lifted his head at the sound, his gaze calm yet tinged with defiance. He didn't release Dennis; instead, he tightened the arm encircling the boy's waist.

“You're back, Jack,” Robby murmured, his voice low and tinged with exhaustion.

Abbot felt the blood rush to his head. Limping, he approached step by step, each heavy footfall pounding like a hammer against Robby's heart. “Let him go. You promised to take care of him.”

Robby snorted, a smile born of years of unspoken understanding and the fury of this moment. “I am taking care of him. You asked me to help get the medicine, but I discovered it wasn't for some unfortunate girl at all. You ran away, Jack. And Dennis needed someone to stay.”

Dennis was flustered by the tension between the two men. He lifted his head from Robby's embrace, tears welling up again. He looked at Abbot, then back at Robby—he didn't want to lose either of them. Gently slipping from Robby's hold, he stood up, his bare chest exposed to the air like a fragile bridge connecting two mountain peaks.

Dennis walked toward Abbot, tiptoeing to cup the priest's cheeks with his hands. He pressed his moist lips to the dry ones. Abbot's body stiffened, but he didn't push him away. Dennis turned toward Robby and pressed a kiss to the doctor's lips.

“I don't want anyone else to leave me,” Dennis's voice cracked with tears, yet held unexpected resolve. “You're both staying. I... I like you both.”

Robby watched the fleeting flash of pain, jealousy, and finally, the helpless, profound love for Dennis in Abbot's eyes. He understood that the boy's innocence and greed had utterly shattered all the defenses they had built over the years with morality and reason. Abbot and Robby locked eyes. The anger in their gaze gradually faded, leaving only the deep understanding between lifelong friends and a shared, intense desire for the same boy.

The pastor sat on the bedside, watching the boy obediently kneel between his legs. With his teeth, he pulled down the zipper, opened his small mouth, and carefully licked the pastor's penis. First, he circled the tip with his tongue, then, keeping his teeth back, he took it deeper. His face flushed crimson, tears streaming down as he gazed up at the priest with pitiful puppy eyes. Abbot cupped the boy's face, wiping away the tears at the corner of his eyes with his thumb before thrusting his hips forward, driving deeper inside.

Meanwhile, Robby stripped off the boy's recently pulled-up underwear from behind. The boy's crotch was still red and swollen from the earlier intense sex. Robby gave the boy's dripping wet pussy a light slap, then slapped it several more times. The boy whimpered, feeling another orgasm approaching.

Robby gripped his own cock, teasingly rubbing the tip against the boy's entrance without penetrating. The boy tried to spit out the cock in his mouth, begging Robby, but the priest's hand pressed down on the back of his head, forcing it deeper into his throat. More tears streamed out, while the wetness flowing from behind.

Seeing the boy's pitiful state, the doctor finally decided to show a shred of mercy, thrusting all the way in. The boy let out a strangled gasp before being fucked from both ends. Nearly suffocating, he tried to catch his breath midway, but both men held him tight, pinning him firmly onto their cocks. Dennis patted at Abbot's arm and kicked Robby's thigh, but neither reacted. His jaw felt like it was dislocating, his pussy felt like it was being torn apart, yet he lacked the strength to struggle.

Oxygen deprivation robbed him of bodily control. Suddenly, Dennis felt a warm surge between his legs—he'd pissed himself from the penetration. The pastor finally allowed the boy a brief respite. When Abbot withdrew his cock, a silver thread of his own precum and the boy's saliva still connected the boy's tongue to his glans. The boy slumped his head limply onto the pastor's thigh, still being relentlessly fucked from behind by Robby. Dennis' throat was too sore to even moan. He let the priest rub his cock against his face, brushing against his eyelashes and lips.

Ever since the boy had been fucked until he peed, every time Robby thrust inside, he'd pull out a trickle of wetness. Robby could feel the boy's little pussy had been thoroughly stretched open—each entry met no resistance, meekly welcoming his cock. A couple slaps on the ass made it clamp tighter, squirting more.

Watching the boy's breathing steady, the priest thrust his cock back into the boy's mouth. Dennis protested with only a few kitten-like whimpers before obediently taking it in. The boy's mouth and pussy were the most perfect cock sleeves in the world. Dennis's legs were too battered to kneel, his knees bruised in several places. Robby gripped the boy's plump thighs and thrust deeper, the juices squirting from Dennis's pussy in waves onto the floor.

Dennis truly felt like he was about to die, about to be fucked to death. He was so exhausted, so sore, so stretched to limit. His lashes coated with Abbot's precum and his own saliva, blurring his vision. His pussy ached dully from being fucked too many times, still in the refractory period after his recent climax.

Yet he felt profoundly happy—finally united with the ones he loved, free from strife and separation, just the three of them. The boy drifted in and out of consciousness, wondering what their future children might look like. Then that familiar aching sensation built in his lower abdomen, and he came again from being fucked...

Before the boy lost consciousness, the priest and doctor finally came. Abbot shot deep into Dennis's throat, Robby deep into his womb. The boy collapsed to the floor, gasping for air but choking on semen, curling up in agony. Abbot and Robby gently lifted him onto the bed. Lying on the soft mattress beside the men he loved, Dennis felt an unprecedented happiness for the first time. Though he wouldn't be able to speak or get out of bed for the next two or three days, he still felt profoundly joyful and fulfilled. All he wanted was to live undisturbed with Abbot and Robby forever. And so, the semen-covered boy drifted into a sweet sleep.