Part 35 - The Iron Republic(4)(NSFW)

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March 23, 2020

The boyYesterday at 4:17 AM

Able had been a little less than comfortable when he woke up. The deacon seemed to have left a little earlier than he was expecting. It was a bit off, but he figured there was something of interest. Beyond that Able felt... well a little bothered. He couldn't exactly get it to go away so he was a bit thankful that the deacon had left. It didn't help.

Able tried and tried but every time he cleaned up and pulled his pants back on he felt the movement and his member just sprang to life again. Able got tired of it, and was starting to get a little exhausted relieving himself. He cleaned up one final time and just decided to ignore it. He would certainly have to check those public facilities though, but he wasn't so keen on doing so. Able figured at this point he was going to be late to the deacon's sermon, and set off to head there. He was getting a little keen on what this place was about, so he assumed, as long as he looks for the church he'll find it eventually.

Able notices though, that there were an increasing number of eyes watching him as he walked. It wasn't that many, but enough that he knew he was being pursued. Able quickened his pace, and finally does make it to the steps of the church. Maybe they'll leave once he's inside? Able steps through, annoyed.

March 24, 2020

Numerical AnalysisToday at 3:44 AM

The church on the outside is. . .rather modest, actually. The church looks to be very similar to the one the deacon has in London, though the walls are inset with glittering brass decoration that moves of its own accord. Inside, however, the church is splendorous. Rivalling the ballroom of a socialite's second house in size, the architecture is styled after the interior of Dante's.

Overhead, there is a large metal ring with a huge amount of candles arranged along the brim, evoking the image of the haloes commonly drawn around the saints of Christianity in images of old. Above that, there is a ceiling depicting a vivid fresco of the Neath's supposed saints, depicted in the manner in which they died (supposedly) and holding the object of their patronage. Around, the pews are filled; while not crammed, there are a decent enough number of people of various colors and heads sitting down, the chatter lively. They're moving along in their seat, the circular pews slowly spinning as the patrons encircle the center of the church like celestial bodies in an orrery. Below, there is a circular stage made of severely cracked marble. In-between the gaps of the stone, there's molten brass burbling up and spilling over, running down the steps like blood into a recessed trough feeding it back into the stage.

The deacon can be seen pacing around the stage, wearing their formal robe. Evidently, the robe is fire-proof; the hem closer to the ground is covered in molten brass, making it look like his robe is bleeding metal. The room seems to glitter amber; Able can see many, many amber eyes (concentrated usually higher up along the pews and as far out of the view of the deacon) peppering the pews, staring at Able. The deacon is speaking loudly, their voice clear if mildly distant.

Virgil: -Intense; standing in place as they look upwards.- Merely because you have the forms of animals does not mean you can act like animals!

The boyToday at 3:52 AM

Able seems to be a bit in awe, not noticing his face shifting with his discomfort into an opossum, a clear indication of stress in this place for him it seems. Able tries to seat in the back best he could, though it is a bit difficult to find a spot with so many people about. He manages and sits properly. He wonders what sort of sermon this is, it seemed to get him rather heated though. Able was always surprised how loud the deacon could get, he was always so quiet and reserved. Perhaps it is merely built up energy from dealing with others so often? It seemed awfully cathartic, Able thinks.

Numerical AnalysisToday at 4:35 AM

Able is seated between a well-dressed man(?) with a pear obscuring his face and a woman who's eyes peel off and form a butterfly with eye patterning, the butterfly settling on Able's shoulder and peering at him.

A Stranger: You look right nervous; a Londoner, then? Wot's a fellow like 'oo doing here? Virgil: -Agitated.- This is a place to be free from all laws, not all morals! Here, you are permitted to be free of all inhibitions and explore your desires. . .

The deacon pauses, their arm frozen in a raised gesture for a moment before they scowl and start walking across the stage, addressing the audience.

Virgil: -Intense; echoing a small bit.- . . .but you are all still persons! Your own freedom of what was holding you back does not mean you are justified in violating the freedom of another!

The deacon spins furiously on the spot, addressing the opposite side as their robe peeks streaks of maroon between the robe's folds; molten brass flies off, peppering the marble walls in the recessed pit in metal droplets.

Virgil: -Yelling louder.- The man, woman, or others who will their whims onto the unwilling is no better than a tyrant, and is deserving of the punishment of a tyrant! The one who wishes to have their desires of another person gratified by any means is one that ought to be willed into pieces! To be turned into cobblestones and walked upon with neither voice nor hope to be heard, so that they may understand the false choice they gave to another!(edited)

The boyToday at 4:42 AM

Able looks at the stranger, smiling a bit. He was feeling off.

Able: Ah.. Do I?

Able looks forward at Virgil, seeming to smile a bit more genuinely.

Able: The deacon is someone I respect, and his sermons are always lively. I wouldn't want to miss it.

Able watches Virgil with a bit of admiration. He seems to always speak of good things, Able mused. Who wouldn't respect this man? He shifts himself in his seat a bit, still a bit nervous about all these people, though the various heads seemed to ease him a small amount for whatever reason.

Numerical AnalysisToday at 5:17 AM

A Stranger: Well, you're face, it's. . .why, it's rather unclear, and the Londoners are known for being rather emotionally closed, right hun? Are 'oo shocked? Scared? You need to work on your face, dearie.

The deacon continues addressing the crowd, pacing a bit more furiously; near the end of the trailing, they're facing towards the back of the church.

Virgil: -Quieter, but still clear- Many of you believe that you are above this, for what you do is those you know well. Perhaps, you are here with your partners, as I suspect most of you are. Perhaps you think, for a moment, that you are above wasting your breath in asking.

The deacon turns sharply, addressing the front with gloves hands gesturing angrily. The people nearer the bottom swoon, and the council higher up turn their heads, covering their coughing fit with a closed fist.

Virgil: -Passionately.- That is the talk of despotic bastards! Oh, cease your chatter, up in the front! Sit up in your seat! Sit up, I said! I meant what I had said, for that kind of talk is the ramblings of the self-important bastard who wastes his breaths on justifying after to save the single breath on asking before!

The stranger leans over Able, ignoring his presence.

A Stranger: -To the man across Able.- Dear, we should go; is getting rather noisy, innit? . .ooh, I heard there was a patch of sunlight northerly of here. . .

The pear-faced man turns to the woman, and nods silently; noiseless, the two stand up and head out of the pew, the butterfly on Able's shoulder fluttering along and following them. Quickly, the vacancy on Able's right is filled by a young man dressed in navy-blues and a tight, brimmed cap. They sit back, lounging a bit too comfortably.

A Navy-Dressed Devil: -To Able; lazily.- . . .why, you seem to be out of place.(edited)

The boyToday at 5:24 AM

Able doesn't know how to "work on his face" he thought it was just fine. He doesn't like how it was phrased or what it was even about. Able gives the devil a side glance before looking back at the deacon.

Able: I am exactly where I want to be, thank you.

Able huffs, trying not to give the devil too much attention. Last time he talked to a devil at the deacon's church they caused a whole mess of trouble. He was too preoccupied anyhow.

Numerical AnalysisToday at 6:00 AM

A Navy-Dressed Devil: Your face says. . .well, not quite otherwise. . .actually, your face doesn't emote very well; you're from London, then? . .tell me, are you here alone?

The deacon whirls in place, scowling as they hold their hands to their chest, brushing their hand aside as they address those in the higher pews.

Virgil: -Intense; echoing.- I trust that you all know how to ask? You all are capable of vocalizing, yes? Then I expect that all of you ought to be able to use your voice to form the simplest words: "is this okay?" There is no excuse for ignoring the interests or wants of another, and deciding to do as such eschews understanding!

With the impact, the pews spin a little bit faster for a brief moment; the devil dressed in navy-blues uses this opportunity to scoot closer in Able, leaning their back against the pew while their side is up against his.

A Navy-Dressed Devil: Your type of folks usually come here for one reason. . .so what sorts of things are you thinking of?

The boyToday at 6:05 AM

Able looks at the devil, now annoyed that he's gotten even closer. He scowls at the man, his maw pulled back in an extremely bothered snarl that indicates pure disdain.

Able: I'm thinking that maybe you should bother someone else.

Able looks as if he's moving to get up, miffed.

Numerical AnalysisToday at 6:21 AM

The devil lazily lounges back, wrapping an arm lazily around Able's shoulder and pulling him closer.

A Navy-Dressed Devil: Ah, but you're interesting. A bold type, aren't you? . .playing with devils. . .

The boyToday at 6:24 AM

Able grips the devil's wrist, a bit more crushing than he'd usually exert. He pries the arm off of him.

Able: Not with the likes of you.

Able hisses, venom catching the edges of his words.

Numerical AnalysisToday at 6:48 AM

A Navy-Dressed Devil: -Holding their arms up.- Tsk, touchy, aren't you? . .is that what you like, then? Playing hard to get?

The devil moves towards Able, apparently unaffected by Able's tight squeezing and trying to wrap another arm around Able. . .

A Navy-Dressed Devil: Really, now, you could've been less easy. . .do you like being hunted, th-

. . .before their head swings back, their back slamming against the back of the pew; a large, molten chunk of brass hits the devil in the side of their face, pushing them back. They wipe at their face, apparently unaffected save for their face warping into the face of an agitated, spotty-faced bee. Able isn't so lucky, however; several droplets of brass have broken off of the large chunk, landing on his hand and peppering his wrist and the back of his hand in small burns. Down below, the deacon is looking up at Able and the devil with contempt, wiping molten brass off their hands onto their robe.

Virgil: -Through gritted teeth; buzzing noticeably.- I see that someone had decided they were above listening to the sermon.

The devil dressed in navy scowls, flicking molten brass off his hands and inadvertently burning portions of the pew and Able's forearm. He looks down towards the recessed pit at the deacon.

A Navy-Dressed Devil: -Sneering; buzzing.- Marvelous aim, deacon.

The boyToday at 6:55 AM

Able looks like he was about to take a bite out of the devil before the man was knocked back. Able looks as surprised as an opossum can look. His maw hangs open before he grits his teeth and hisses, brushing the molten brass off as quickly as he can, but it certainly takes a good layer of his skin with it. Able quickly moves away, not wanting more burn marks that he now has. He figured it was most certainly second degree. It stung like hell, and even the gentlest breeze brought new pain.

Able: Christ.

Numerical AnalysisToday at 7:31 AM

The deacon looks up, their face filled with contempt for a moment. . .

Virgil: -Gritting their teeth.- Why. . .

. . .before trailing off as they notice Able moving away and brushing their hands. Their face flits a bit between the face of a bee and their husk's face.

Virgil: -Pausing, before speaking coolly.- -. . .have someone's consent, and don't treat further than that. Today's sermon is dismissed. Everyone go home.

The council in the pews chatters among themselves, with plenty having the typical happiness at being able to move after a sermon; the devils up near the top are chuckling among themselves, tittering like attendees to a display of animals. Meanwhile, the deacon steps upwards, the pews splitting a bit and creating stairs to accommodate as the deacon heads upwards.

A Navy-Dressed Devil: -Sneering.- Ah. . .for him, then. What poor taste. . .

The devil rubs their cheek lightly, turning upwards to join the gaggle of devils staring at Able a little too closely before they head out to leave through the front. The deacon, meanwhile, has headed up towards Able, their face solidly fixed to be the face of a bee as they quickly check on Able.

Virgil: -Humble; quietly buzzing.- I apologize for that. . .outburst. . .show where you got burned.(edited)

The boyToday at 7:36 AM

Able looks extremely uncomfortable with all the stares and comments, though it's a bit hard to tell. Able pulls up his sleeve, showing off the burns both on his hand and arm.

Able: -Quietly, miffed.- The hell was that about.. Able: -to Virgil- Ahh, it isn't so bad, but it will certainly need to be covered.

Even so it looks red and some loose skin that had been blistered off was still hanging around the edges. They were small burns, but certainly deep ones.

Numerical AnalysisToday at 7:37 AM

The deacon grabs Able's wrist, inspecting them as the eyes on the bee head dilates a small bit.

Virgil: . . .we're heading back to the room. You can't be walking around with wounds. Not here.

The boyLast Tuesday at 7:37 AM

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Numerical AnalysisLast Tuesday at 6:58 PM

The deacon had dragged Able back to the room, their footsteps light as they ran along the road. The deacon was gripping onto Able's shoulder rather hard, guiding them and pushing forward along their back.

The travel was a quick blur.

Presently, the deacon is cleaning Able's arm; he's pressed his arm up against the mirror that currently existed by the bed, causing the glass to break like the surface of water and running clear water to run his elbow and across the hand. The room smells of sour cherries, the deacon merely holding onto Able's forearm and letting the mirror's water run along his hand and making sure he doesn't move.

Virgil: -Strained sighing.- . . .I'm going to have to check if this place has any bandages currently. . .perhaps the wallpaper will do. . .

The boyLast Tuesday at 7:08 PM

Able: Tss.. It stings..

Able hisses. He wasn't really new to burns, but even cool water hurts quite a bit. He was a little confused by such a quick response to his injury, and even more confused by the urgency the deacon was taking after. He felt sore.

Able: Mh.. So much fuss.

Able seems to still be uncomfortable, his face still not shifting back as it usually did. He wondered why they were so aggressive this time. Perhaps it was just one unkempt devil?

Numerical AnalysisLast Tuesday at 8:21 PM

Virgil: Of course it stings. You got burned by molten metal.

The deacon is lightly moving their hand to let water run along all parts of Able's upper arm. He pauses for a moment. . .

Virgil: . . .I don't know what you expected, when you're playing games with a devil. . .

. . .before grabbing a portion of the wall; they peel off the wallpaper, the patterning falling limp like fabric as they slowly tear away strips of gauze-like swatches. The deacon uses a bundle of fabric, lightly drying Able's hand and forearm as they quietly scowl.

The boyLast Tuesday at 8:33 PM

Able: Yes well, points for obvious statements I suppose..

Able seems irritable, a little more that he would be. He didn't like the attention, and it certainly made him more aware of his body than he'd like. He muses about where to deal with that, perhaps. Able blinks, looking at Virgil.

Able: I don't. As far as I or anyone should be concerned the only devil I do anything with is you.

Numerical AnalysisLast Tuesday at 9:57 PM

The deacon pauses, in the middle of wrapping Able's hand and palm, before wrapping it faster and tighter in gauze; they finish tying a knot, but they still hold onto Able's wrist.

Virgil: Ah, is that the point of this whole game, then?

The deacon pushes forward, easily knocking Able onto the bed before quickly holding their injured hand up, hissing.

Virgil: Was that what you hoped for, then? Toying with and provoking a devil? Until you got what you wanted?

The deacon leans into Able's face, their breath scalding his cheeks and nose.

Virgil: Because I'm not a fool; I can smell it on you; I thought that you had gotten into some business, but no, that's what it is, isn't it? . .

The deacon's head flickers between the face of a bee and the face of his husk, scowling as he starts gripping onto Able.

Virgil: -Feeling Able's shoulders.- You couldn't just ask? Do you think you're above asking for it?

The boyLast Tuesday at 10:15 PM

Able hisses, miffed to be handled so roughly. He looks up at the deacon, confused.

Able: I don't know what you're going on about.

Able feels a very sudden and intense emotion wash over him, a pang of guilt and fear, and a familiar yearning he'd tried so very hard to keep down. This closeness was too much, and he didn't know what the deacon was saying. He had to stop this, he had to end this, but he already felt it. He didn't have time to properly process it before it floods into anger. His face shifts and darkens, the same as before he came here. There was no denying how he looked like this.

Able: Get off.

Numerical AnalysisLast Tuesday at 10:45 PM

The deacon pauses, staring at Able with dilated pupils; his head flickers into the face of a bee. The mandibles clicks as he suddenly lets go, their arms raised defensively in the slightest recoil while they stare at Able.

Virgil: -Dilated pupils flickering.- I. . .don't understand. What was the point of. . ?.

The boyLast Tuesday at 10:53 PM

Able sits up slowly, refusing to look at the deacon for a long time. Able stands quietly, slowly, he was trying to contain himself. He couldn't swallow the lump in his throat. He doesn't face Virgil, he really couldn't at this point, his face burning with anger and a sadness he wanted to forget.

Able: I thought I could trust you.

Able glances back. He quickly moves towards the door, not looking back.

Able: Didn't think you would toy with my emotions as well.

Able feels the words sting himself, and he instantly regrets it, but he leaves, quickly. He couldn't let that man see him fall apart a little.

March 25, 2020

Numerical AnalysisLast Wednesday at 12:35 AM

Virgil: . . .what. . ?

The deacon stands for a moment, staring at the door Able passed through. The smell of cherries intensifies in the air as the deacon sits on the bed, their head solidly apian. Their mandibles are slack, their eyes snapped back to being slits. The deacon raises their hands, closing them for a bit. He breathes, the tension in the air slowly wicking away. This was not what he had expected. Certainly, now he recognized that he had not reacted properly, but now he had to understand what had gone wrong. The deacon counts on their hands, sitting back and leaning against the headboard of the bed as they follow their chain of reasoning.

Virgil: -Muttering.- . . .had ingested pheromones. For what purpose? . .well. . .certainly interested in something more; why else would any Londoner head to the Iron Republic. . .naivety, perhaps. . .

The deacon leans forward, their legs hanging over the edge of the bed as they sit deep in contemplation. Something clicks.

Virgil: . . .toy with. . .

An air of dread slowly permeates the room (which, apparently, smells like zee flotsam caked in salt deposits).

Virgil: -Sitting up.- . . .no, they smell of lust. For what reason would you put that on yourself? . .but. . .the response. . .

The deacon leans forward more, their elbows resting on their knees as they hold the chitinous plate in-between their slowly dilating eyes.

Virgil: -Slowly buzzing.- . . .something amiss. . .

The deacon sits, their mandibles clicking together as the room slowly shrinks. The smell of saltwater and the zee slowly grows, until the deacon clicks loudly suddenly.

Virgil: -Buzzing louder.- . . .they're not lusting. Virgil: -Sitting up; pupils shakily dilated.- . . .they're smitten.

The deacon stands up for a moment, stumbling for a bit before seating himself again.

Virgil: -Quietly; buzzing loudly.- I've irreparably toyed with something I vowed I wouldn't. It was infatuation, not lust.

The boyLast Wednesday at 12:37 AM

Able took a very long time to get a halfway decent sob out, but found he kept literally falling apart, and had to both literally and metaphorically pull himself together. Able kept trying to get away from the rooms. The housing kept being brought back into view. He disliked this. He didn't want to see the deacon right now, he needed to think. He walked a great deal but got nowhere, trying to figure out what was even going on, though when he thought too hard he found himself stuck in the ground. Able was unamused.

Able: Haha... very funny.

Able digs himself out and decides to sit just outside the room. He didn't know what he would say, but he knew his words must have hurt. He tries to think about what he would do, perhaps just sit down and discuss? Would he even want to discuss with him after that? He sighs. He would have to head back in wouldn't he? He had nowhere else to go, and besides. He did stop when he told him to. That wasn't really the issue now though was it? Able loudly knocks on the door before opening it.

Able: Oy I'm coming in. We need to talk.

Numerical AnalysisLast Wednesday at 12:58 AM

The room is currently dripping water. Overhead, saltwater is dripping down onto the floor, the room smelling of salt and pier. The room is vaguely smaller, the walls slowly becoming waterlogged in. The deacon is seated at the bed, their palms covering their eyes; they don't seem to be rubbing at their eyes so much as merely covering them. The deacon sits with perfect posture at the edge of the bed.

Virgil: -Clearly.- I understood. I understood as soon as you had spoken. Virgil: -Clearly; buzzing loudly.- . . .or rather, I didn't understand. That was precisely what was wrong.

The boyLast Wednesday at 1:04 AM

Able looks around a bit, grimacing. He manages to keep his composure enough to walk towards the deacon, and manages to keep himself together long enough to slump down on the bed next to him. Able looks away a bit.

Able: You stopped, though. That's more than I can say for most.

Able sighs shakily, losing himself a little, swallowing that lump in his throat.

Able: I thought we'd cleared this up, however, I don't... think we have.

Able doesn't look at Virgil still, focusing more on the walls.

Able: Tell me what happened.

Numerical AnalysisLast Wednesday at 1:41 AM

The deacon sits, their palms still over their apian eyes.

Virgil: I had misunderstood you. For quite some time.

The vaguest glimmer of amber can be seen peeking at the corners, a warbling, scratchy reflection peeking through. The deacon turns their head towards Able, their eyes still vaguely covered.

Virgil: . . .you are an associate of Thomas, and I had presumed that your mannerisms, while certainly much more polite, followed his in the same vein. Virgil: -Pausing.- . . .lust, mostly.

The deacon lifts their head with their eyes still shaded, the smell of salt permeating strongly in the room.

Virgil: -Clearly.- I hadn't realized you were infatuated.

The boyLast Wednesday at 1:45 AM

Able: ..Ah. I... should have been more clear then..

Able looks at Virgil, sighing.

Able: Infatuation is a way to put it... I suppose. Though I wouldn't call it that... I... Able: I care for you a great deal, I did not want to put you into an... uncomfortable situation by being too obvious.

Able bites his tongue, trying to stop his voice from shaking.

Numerical AnalysisLast Wednesday at 2:19 AM

Virgil: Of course you should've been more clear. You understand that I work in a church, with a replete of persons who would wish to see me in barely clad decadence purely because of my taboo position.

The deacon gestures in exasperation; their eyes are fully dilated, the pupil-like opening behaving more like fluid swirling in an amber globe.

Virgil: And you came to confess about touching yourself to a thought of me. What in Neath was I supposed to think? It was a neighborly type of self-satisfaction? That. . . Virgil: . . .why are you shaking?

The boyLast Wednesday at 2:28 AM

Able laughs a bit, and its a sort of hoarse tired laugh, but it's a laugh.

Able: -Chuckling- Ahhh.. Cruelty bringing that idiocy up.

Able looks directly at Virgil, looking a bit serious.

Able: ..Because it's all.. brought up again. You're wonderful, do you know that? You in all your faux terror and "oh how dreadful the infernal deacon"

Able looks away, flushing.

Able: I am, being made a bit too aware of how much, I appreciate your presence.

Able sighs.

Able: Ah, apologies, I.. I suppose I should ask shouldn't I? Properly?

Numerical AnalysisLast Wednesday at 2:42 AM

The deacon's pupils stay dilated, though the edge of the eyes is less warped; he elbows Able.

Virgil: -Quietly, but clearly.- . . .this infernal deacon still has a reputation to hold up, mind you. Virgil: -Staring at Able.- . . .what do you want to ask?

The boyLast Wednesday at 2:50 AM

Able: Oh I'm sure your reputation will be fine, you did rail a devil with molten brass, if they don't respect and fear you now... Hmm..

Able looks at the deacon.

Able: Feel free to think about it, or say no, given your position, ah... Able: Would you want to engage in a more, romantic partnership?

Able looks very serious, but he looked extremely flush. He was steeling himself for the worst.

Numerical AnalysisLast Wednesday at 3:43 AM

Virgil: . . .I thought you said you'd ask properly.

The deacon leans forward, their pupils dilating as they stare at Able.

Virgil: You are aware that you're asking a devil, particularly one with a healthy involvement in the soul trade, while you're still in a territory of Hell, mind you, to become dangerously intimate with you? Virgil: -Buzzing.- And you are fully aware that you risk a lot of attention from others, both infernal and ecclesiastical, if this happens?

The boyLast Wednesday at 3:51 AM

Able doesn't move, raising an eyebrow.

Able: Of course, Such things can't be avoided if I become involved, I'd assumed? Certainly I'd agree to that.

Able leans in just a bit, his tone shifting.

Able: Are you willing to be involved with a man who may possibly stain your reputation by mere involvement alone?

Able smiles, leaning in a bit more.

Able: I know that I adore you, but what are your thoughts?

Numerical AnalysisLast Wednesday at 4:23 AM

The deacon sits back, resting their back against the headboard.

Virgil: Well. . .I hope that us having tea for a while says enough about us, but, apparently, we are not the best at communicating.

Their mandibles unconsciously click as they muse, a chittering buzzing coming from deep in their chest.

Virgil: I think that you are a decent person. I won't claim you're a wise man, but you are morally and mentally sound; you are physically healthy; you're doing well enough to keep a place. . .your soul is pleasant to look at. . .my reputation won't degrade terribly, if only due to good public reputation. . .

The deacon sits back, closing their eyes for a moment.

Virgil: -Opening their eyes; looking at Able.- Infernally speaking, I see no advantage in denying this agreement, given current circumstances. Virgil: . . .and, personally, I agree.

The boyLast Wednesday at 4:32 AM

Able places a hand on the deacon's arm.

Able: You take a very long route to say "Yes, I do in fact wish to be in a relationship with you."

Able laughs a little, but seems fairly happy. He stares at Virgil, tilting his head a bit.

Able: Jokes aside.. Ah.. I do wish ask you something else.

Able moves so he's more in front of the deacon.

Numerical AnalysisLast Wednesday at 4:35 AM

Virgil: -Flatly.- You offer an agreement to a devil and you're wondering why the answer is roundabout? Perhaps I should leave.

The deacon stares at Able, their eyes dilating.

Virgil: . . .ask, then.

The boyLast Wednesday at 4:37 AM

Able: Oh you're not just any devil though, are you?

Able snickers. He sighs, amused, but getting closer.

Able: May I kiss you?

Numerical AnalysisLast Wednesday at 4:38 AM

Virgil: -Eyes squinting; flatly.- . . .sure, if you can figure out how to make it work when your face has a snout and I have mandibles.

The boyLast Wednesday at 4:50 AM

Able touches his face. Ah. He shrugs.

Able: Are you challenging me deacon?

Able sighs dramatically, pulling the man down onto his back by his legs with a bit of effort. He props himself above Virgil, looking directly at him.

Able: Didn't anyone teach you not to poke and prod at animals?

Able says flatly, before pushing aside the deacon's mandibles, and pressing his muzzle a bit messily against the opening between them.

He finds the tongue he has can press deep into Virgil. He holds tightly onto the mandibles but only to keep them moderately in place as he quickly learns how to move his muzzle so it's not so uncomfortably pressed into the deacon and more around the mouthparts.

Numerical AnalysisLast Wednesday at 5:08 AM

The deacon is surprised by Able's movements, their eyes dilating widely; in the next moment, however, their gaze sharpens into a solid line. Two hands push harshly against the back of Able's head, gripping and forcing his head harder into their apian maw. Their breath and the space between their mandibles is incredibly warm; the cavity past the mandibles feels like a scalding oven, the heat quickly warming Able's face, lips, and mouth.

A chitinous tube pushes against Able's tongue, the stiff material lightly scratching against the broad of his tongue. The deacon breathes. His eyes dilate; in the next moment, the mandibles clamp hard, pinching the broad of Able's muzzle.

The boyLast Wednesday at 5:13 AM

Able enjoys the encouragement, pressing in deeper and trying to explore the deacon. But he did not enjoy the sudden sharp pain in his muzzle, pulling back quickly. He rubs at one of the spots he was pinched, hissing.

Able: Tss.. sharp..You have to be careful with those.

Able whines a bit.

.

Numerical AnalysisLast Wednesday at 5:18 AM

The deacon gasps as Able pulls back, their mandibles clicking as they buzz loudly.

Virgil: -Wheezy; buzzing loudly.- Hhf. . .you're the one whose breath smells like lust.

The deacon sits up, their eyes waveringly dilated but slowly settling back.

Virgil: Your mouth smells of nothing but pheromones. What are you thinking, trying to get every devil to jump you. . .how'd you even get it?.

The boyLast Wednesday at 5:19 AM

Able looks confused, tilting his head.

Able: I... Have no clue what you mean.

Numerical AnalysisLast Wednesday at 5:22 AM

The deacon is rubbing at their mandibles, their eyes slowly returning back to their usual dilation.

Virgil: -Slowly wheezing less.- You smell like a bee in heat, Able. Virgil: -Buzzing loudly.- It's in your mouth and nowhere else, so you must've eaten something. . .you must've paid a fortune, buying infernal pheromones. . .

The boyLast Wednesday at 5:25 AM

Able: Erm? Is.... that a thing folks do...?

Able looks off to the side, trying to figure out what he could have eaten.

Able: Hrm...

Numerical AnalysisLast Wednesday at 5:27 AM

Virgil: It's a thing people do unwisely. They double-seal that sort of stuff in bottles inside bottles inside wax layers..

The boyLast Wednesday at 5:28 AM

Able slowly looks at Virgil. He knew exactly what he was talking about.

Able: -Quietly.- ..Agatha.....

Numerical AnalysisLast Wednesday at 5:29 AM

The deacon pauses in cleaning their mandibles, their hands scraping at the chitinous claw.

Virgil: . . .pardon?

The boyLast Wednesday at 5:30 AM

Able: Agatha sent it to me.

Numerical AnalysisLast Wednesday at 5:37 AM

The deacon pauses, before slowly holding both palms to their head, covering their widely dilated eyes.

Virgil: . . .that woman has. . .not changed at all.

The boyLast Wednesday at 5:38 AM

Able: I can... leave if it's unbearable I...

Able looks a little uncomfortable.

Able: I don't want to take advantage of you.

Numerical AnalysisLast Wednesday at 5:43 AM

The deacon quickly grabs Able's wrist, their eyes dilating again as they stare at him intently.

Virgil: -Squeezing hard.- Come now, that's unwise. Unless you'd rather get jumped by a host of devils, you're not going anywhere.

The boyLast Wednesday at 5:51 AM

Able forgot about that. He looks at the deacon and then at his wrist.

Able: Ah... If you insist.

Able notes the pain in his wrist but doesn't say much, firmly pulling it away to grab the deacon's leg with one hand and pressing him back by his shoulder with the other.

Able: Though we shouldn't let you get out of hand, mh. How far are you wanting to take this? Specifically, what can I do to help you along? You certainly seem tense, but I wouldn't want to assume.

Numerical AnalysisLast Wednesday at 6:09 AM

Virgil: -Buzzing.- . . .good to know that you listened to the sermon; I'd presume the tenseness is because you smell like a devil yelling to be fucked. I can taste that smell in my mouth.

The deacon leans forward, resisting Able's push back and leaning forward into their face, their apian eyes dilating and their mandibles clicking.

Virgil: . . .what you can do for me then, right now, is to open your mouth, and let me scrape that taste out of your throat.

March 26, 2020

The boyYesterday at 4:20 AM

Able's face shifts as he looks away a bit. He wondered if that was wise, as he would be getting more of it in his system. Able did enjoy this thought however. He was a little unsure though.

Able: Ah... Hm.. If that is what you want... though I have some.. stipulations..

Able gets fairly red, he wanted to just go for it but he was already feeling a little overwhelmed. He needed to take things a lot more slowly.

Numerical AnalysisYesterday at 11:19 PM

The room smells strongly of cherries, the previous scent of saltwater quickly dissipating. The deacon leans forward, their amber eyes reflecting the light of candles.

Virgil: -Buzzing.- What is it, then?

The boyYesterday at 11:24 PM

Able moves so that he's straddling the deacon's legs, placing his hands softly on his shoulders. He was still feeling a little concerned, but he was more at ease with more out into the open.

Able: Ah... Slowly.. Gently.. I am still getting used to things..

Numerical AnalysisYesterday at 11:35 PM

The deacon sits up a little higher, their mandibles clicking as they slowly settle down. His breath is warming Able's cheeks as he leans forward, their eyes dilating slightly as they breathe in before exhaling scalding air across Able's face.

Virgil: -Mandibles chittering.- . . .ease yourself into it. . .mh.

Something shifts underneath the deacon's robe; he slides up more along the headboard of the bed, sitting forward and gripping Able's shoulders to pull them forward.

The boyYesterday at 11:49 PM

Able moves his hands to Virgil's neck, pressing his now proper mouth more tepidly between his mandibles, kissing gently and extremely slowly. He is a little surprised each time the deacon breathes, it's so hot he winces a bit in pain, but it is still in some way nice.

Able is trying to gently figure this out, at least for himself. He can't help but move his hands to the deacon's mandibles, feeling along the sharp edges, a little worried knowing how easily it would be to get injured like this. A little bit of fear was good, Able was finding out, pressing his mouth in the deacon's mouthparts, finding it a little different to explore now, taking his time figuring out what was where.

Able: Mh. You're so.. wonderful..

Able sighs a bit pulling back, calming himself. He was getting a little too much, it was a lot in one day.

March 27, 2020

Numerical AnalysisToday at 12:21 AM

The deacon quietly groans, the mandibles squeezing around Able's head a bit before he pulls away.

Virgil: Mhh. . .really, now, you shouldn't be saying that sort of stuff, if you're wanting to go slow. . .

The deacon wraps their arms around Able, hooking around and pulling him close; he pulls forcefully, closing the distance between their

Virgil: -Buzzing.- You might provoke something you're not ready for.

In the space between their bodies, Able can feel something throbbing underneath the deacon's robe, the pulsing slowly coursing upwards along his chest.

The boyToday at 12:28 AM

Able gasps gripping the deacon's shoulders, he was a little confused at first and then the fear settled in. He is a bit too aware of his own body a bit, pressing his groin against the deacon a bit instinctually before quickly stopping.

Able: Ah.. Ah... Is that..

Able gets a little dizzy, a bit worried, slumping a little against the deacon, wrapping his arms around his back.

Able: That's...

Too much, was his first thought.

Numerical AnalysisToday at 12:40 AM

Virgil: Finish your sentences, Able.

The deacon leans forward and sighs hard onto the top of Able's head, warming his scalp as he pushes his hip forward. They wrap their arms tighter around Able, pushing his chest harder against the pulsing mass.

Virgil: -Buzzing.- . . .mh. . .I did warn you, didn't I. . ?.

The boyToday at 12:46 AM

Able squeezes tightly, wondering if such a thing was even possible. It must be, right? He pulls away a little to look at the deacon, sighing.

Able: Is it uncomfortable like that..?

Able looks a touch worried, but his face was red.

Numerical AnalysisToday at 1:01 AM

The deacon clicks their mandibles, pushing their chest up and rubbing the bulge against Able's. . .

Virgil: . . .mhh, not as much as you'd think. Much more flexible than you're thinking, I'm sure. . .

. . .before sitting back, sighing nonchalantly.

Virgil: Ah, but. . .

The deacon holds hands up to their robe, unbuttoning two buttons in the middle of their chest; underneath, Able can see a faint red color peeking through the white undershirt's knit.

Virgil: . . .I suppose I should let it breathe. . .unless you'd rather not see it?

The deacon stares at Able, amber eyes boring a hole through Able's eyes as he lightly fingers a pair of buttons on his undershirt.

The boyToday at 1:08 AM

Able wheezes a little, looking a little shaky. He watches the deacon intently, focusing on his hands with a bit more interest than he might've wanted to show.

Able: Ah.. you may.. If you're alright with.. showing.

Able places a hand over his mouth, in a small attempt to hide how flush his face had gotten, but he might as well have done nothing with how it tints his whole face, spreading to his ears.

Numerical AnalysisToday at 1:30 AM

The deacon wastes no time, shifting and sitting back; they unbutton one, two, three buttons on their chest, sitting back as they sigh comfortably. A large, black-tipped tube of maroon is peeking through the layers of fabric. The tube is split at the end, the twin-tips lightly diverging and coming together as the throbbing ripples up along the clothed mass. It looks to be about half as thick as Able's wrist, and the space in front of the opening smells vaguely of salt. The deacon sits back further, spreading their legs a little as they sigh; their mandibles are flexing unconsciously, slowly opening and closing as they cut air.

Virgil: -Sighing.- Mmmhhh. . .that feels better..

The boyToday at 1:36 AM

Able is watching carefully, trying to keep himself together, but his head already feels fuzzy. He finds this difficult as he realizes the scope of it all. He doesn't last long, letting out a little gasp before his body slumps to the side rather suddenly. He seems to have passed out.

Numerical AnalysisToday at 1:46 AM

The deacon's eyes dilate, sitting up as they quickly move their arms, anticipating Able to fall further; he grabs onto Able's shoulder, preventing him from falling off the edge of the bed but leaning a bit uncomfortably far.

Virgil: -Buzzing.- Ah! . . really. . ?

The deacon lightly grabs Able, holding his limp body up into a kneeling position close to themselves as they lightly shake him by the shoulders.

Virgil: -Chittering; muttering.- . . .I thought passing out is for afterwards. . .

The boyToday at 1:51 AM

Able doesn't seem to be out very long, his breath catching in his throat as he very suddenly snaps awake. He looks around, gripping onto the deacon's wrists, a little confused.

Able: Ah?! Oh.. Goodness...

Able sighs, looking back at the deacon, and then down a bit. He is immediately flush again.

Able: Oh. Oh.

Numerical AnalysisToday at 1:58 AM

Virgil: -Flatly.- Yes, ogle it for a bit more.

The deacon grips onto Able's shoulder, pushing him forward and pressing the exposed bulge into his chest; a sigh later, and Able can feel a small wetness on his shirt.

Virgil: -Buzzing low, mandibles spreading.- . . .now, I've had enough waiting, Able.

The deacon pushes his head forward, the mandibles reaching easily past Able's cheeks without the old muzzle being in the way; in a moment, Able can feel his lips being prodded at with smaller mouthparts, the deacon staring at Able with amber, unblinking eyes. His pupils widen as he breathes in, the scent in Able's throat reaching his body; the mandibles clench unconsciously, lightly squeezing his cheekbones.

The boyToday at 2:06 AM

Able is a bit surprised, but wraps his arms around the deacon's neck, falling back and taking the deacon with him. He happily opens his mouth, a little tepid still about kissing deeper. Able seems fairly content, only making a displeased sound when Virgil's mandibles pinch at him. It's nothing more than a mild miffed sound, and he still pulls him closer regardless.

Numerical AnalysisToday at 2:17 AM

The deacon pushes forward, the mandibles opening and resting on the bed on the side of Able's head, acting like small supports as the deacon adjusts their positioning above Able. At Able's mouth, he can feel two mouthpieces prodding at his lips, slipping their way in as soon as Able parts his lips. The appendages blindly feel at the inside of Able's jaw, their barbed texture catching lightly on the roof of his mouth and his tongue.

The deacon talks, the mouthparts in Able's mouth buzzing as they do so; they make audible speech, and the resonance with Able's jaw makes it sound like the deacon is talking inside of Able's head.

Virgil: -Muffled buzzing.- Mmh. . .let me make myself. . .comfortable. . .

The deacon lifts their hip up a bit, supporting themselves on the mandibles piercing the bed around Able's head. Their hands move to their robe, unbuttoning it a little more; then, the undershirt underneath. Able can feel a hot, thick warmth resting onto his chest; as the deacon rests their weight back onto him, he can feel the tube-like warmth spread in a straight line from the midriff down to the groin.

Virgil: -Muffled buzzing.- There we go. . ..

The boyToday at 2:28 AM

Able makes a muffled complaint, but seems to be settled as soon as the deacon is back on top of him, allowing him to wrap his arms around him again. Able seems a little miffed any time Virgil moves away from him, gripping him tightly. He makes an unamused face, even though he's completely red and pressing himself up against the deacon.

Numerical AnalysisToday at 2:40 AM

The deacon sighs, a rush of hot air coursing into Able's mouth and lungs as they push their head closer. Inside, the secondary mandibles dig a little harder, separating as Able feels the deacon press deeper, the mandibles parting to accommodate. The deacon grunts, warming Able's mouth as they push their chest down, squeezing the warmth against Able's chest for a moment. Then, Able feels movement; he feels the deacon's waxy hands tugging at the bottom of his sweater, lingering there for a moment.

Virgil: -Muffled; inside Able's mouth.- Mhh. . .grunt for me if you're okay with this. . .mmh. . .I want you to feel it better. . ..

The boyToday at 2:45 AM

Able is trying to explore and move about the deacon's maw, a little bit of a confusing endeavor, but he is certainly trying. He feels the movement, blinking. He thinks about it for a moment before giving a little grunt of approval, nodding a bit before returning to the task of figuring out how to navigate his mouthparts.

Numerical AnalysisToday at 2:59 AM

The deacon sighs, lightly scalding Able's tongue as they lift their torso a bit. In the next moment, Able can feel his layers of shirts being lifted up, exposing his torso; then, an incredibly warm, fleshy tube slithers its way the happy trail on Able's chest, the tip settling comfortably in the upper part of his midriff before his shirt is pulled back.

Virgil: -Muffled.- There we go. . .mmph.

The deacon pushes their hip forward, a moist, scalding sigh lightly nipping the inside of Able's mouth. A small streamer of warm, numbing liquid spreads across the space between Able's pecs, warming it as if he was sitting in front of a furnace.

Virgil: -Muffled chittering.- . . .unf. . .you're softer than you look. . .mh.

The boyToday at 3:08 AM

He sighs, a little comforted by the new direct warmth, and feeling exactly how deep such a thing would get into him while its pressed so directly against him. Able presses his groin up, feeling himself getting more and more heated as the deacon pushes against him. It is a bit much. Able makes a little muffled groan that's something indicating a bit of impatience.

Numerical AnalysisToday at 3:20 AM

The deacon lowers themselves, pressing their body hard onto Able as they tuck their arms underneath and reaching around his back.

Virgil: -Buzzing in Able's mouth.- Mmh, alright. . .

The deacon digs their hands into Able's back, squeezing their member in-between their chests as they lower their weight onto him; another spurt of warming precum smears Able's chest.

Virgil: -Buzzing louder.- Unf. . .mmmh, happy now? . .

The deacon raises their head, their mandibles moving back to grabbing Able's cheekbones and squeezing lightly.

Virgil: -Clearly; in Able's mouth.- Now tilt your head back.

The boyToday at 3:24 AM

Able seems fairly pleased, wrapping his arms around the deacon. He makes a happy little hum, enjoying this closeness. He does as he's asked, moving his head back. He keeps a tight grip on Virgil, however, not wanting to let go.

Numerical AnalysisToday at 3:32 AM

The deacon moves their head along with Able's, craning their neck as he tilts his head back.

Virgil: -Buzzing quietly.- Good. . .mmph. Relax your jaw. . .

Able can feel the secondary mandibles in his mouth slowly separating, the empty space being filled by another lengthening appendage; it's hard to ascertain what it is by oral feel alone.

.

The boyToday at 3:37 AM

Able sighs, his hands moving along the deacon's back. He was a little unsure, but he trusted the deacon, shifting himself a bit so he can properly keep his mouth open without strain, which wasn't more than a slight move. He does find it hard not to prod at the new mouthpart with his tongue, oral fixation kicking in and overriding a little bit of his attempts to relax.

Numerical AnalysisToday at 3:44 AM

Virgil: -Muffled buzzing.- There you go. . .mmhhh.

The deacon moves a hand to Able's forehead, tilting his head further back. Inside Able's mouth, he can feel an odd, tapered tube starting to fill the cavity in his jaw. As he feels his tongue around, he can feel the stiff, glossy-feeling tube slipping its way towards the back of his throat. There are three small separations running along the length of the tube, and, inside, Able can feel something buzzing loudly, the material vibrating with it. The tube pauses as it's felt by Able's tongue, and a sigh of scalding air nips the inside of Able's mouth.

Virgil: -Slightly irritated; buzzing in Able's mouth.- . . .unf. Relax, Able. . .unless you'd rather I stab your throat on accident? . ..

The boyToday at 3:50 AM

Able makes a bit of a miffed sigh, but resigns to keeping his tongue still. He had to actively thinking of not doing it, which only made him want to do it more. Able instead focuses on pressing the deacon down closer onto him, feeling fairly uncomfortable with how he lined his dick up earlier to keep it from being noticed. He shifts a little before just wrapping his legs around the deacon as well, which seemed to shift it just enough to make it bearable.

Numerical AnalysisToday at 4:02 AM

The deacon sighs slowly, filling Able's mouth with almost scalding breath as the tube-like appendage in Able's mouth starts slipping over his tongue, sliding into the back of his throat. The secondary mandibles flutter wildly, the buzzing tickling Able's tongue.

Virgil: -Buzzing louder.- Mmh. . .relax. . .I want to taste that scent, and it's going to be deep in your throat. . .

The chitinous tube starts slipping it's way past Able's tongue; despite the obstruction in his throat, breathing is still easy. . .at least until the appendage slides a little bit deeper, the chitinous tube starting to fill his throat. Breathing is still possible though, but it's very difficult with the hot, moist air the deacon is breathing into Able's mouth. The chitinous tube slips its way along, tickling the inside of Able's throat. . . The deacon adjusts their hip, lifting their legs up and curling their back a bit; their member shifts with them, the slight curve at the base pushing into Able's member with direct pressure.

Virgil: -Muffled; buzzing against Able's tongue.- . . .relax. . .mmph. . .you need to relax. . ..

The boyToday at 4:09 AM

Able makes a bit of a sound, but tries to keep himself from gagging, its a bit difficult, and not entirely successful. He does gag a bit, but tries to keep it under control. He makes a little whimper when he feels his member get attention, the pressure quickly making him a little closer, but not enough. He sounds frustrated at this.

Numerical AnalysisToday at 4:18 AM

Virgil: -Muffled; in Able's throat.- Mmh. . ? . .ah, I see. . .

The deacon pulls a hand from Able's back, lifting their hip a little. Able can feel a hand grabbing around his groin, and then a tugging that frees his member; his cock pushes against a hot, slightly moist tube of flesh, the sharpest curve in it pushing hard against the head of his cock as the deacon lowers his hip back onto Able. . . .then, a hand moves to grasp his member and squeezing it snug against the deacon's girth.

Virgil: -Chittering; muffled.- Unf. . .content now?

The chitinous tube in Able's throat slips deeper, deeper. . . The tube pauses at a point right above his vocal cords; deep inside, Able can feel a fluttery buzzing in his throat, the vibrations slightly ticklish but mostly warming.

Virgil: -Muffled; quiet.- Mmh. . .I can taste it deeper down.

The deacon grips around both his member and Able's, tugging on both and forcing a small burble of precum onto Able's pecs.

Virgil: -Clear; deep in Able's throat.- Hold your breath..

The boyToday at 4:23 AM

Able suddenly tenses, not expecting the squeezing and warmth, his body shudders before he relaxes again. He pushes his hips up, letting out a low and quiet groan, and settles again. He returns to laxly feeling the deacon in him, though it is not exactly as he expected. He does ask he's asked, and makes sure his lungs are filled, pressing his palms against the deacon's back.

Numerical AnalysisToday at 4:35 AM

The deacon quietly pumps Able's member against his own, their throbbing overwhelming Able's twitching and enveloping him with warmth.

Virgil: -Muffled; deep in Able's throat.- There we go. . .mmhf!

The chitinous tube in Able's throat pushes itself down into Able's throat, the tube filling out the back of his mouth; even if he wasn't holding his breath, he wouldn't be able to breathe. The deacon grabs Able shoulder, squeezing it tightly.

Virgil: -Quietly; buzzing in a spot right above Able's chest.- . . .tap. . .mmh. . .if you need to breathe. . .

The chitinous slips its way further. . .further. . .further down, feeling like it's going to a spot right above the middle of Able's pecs. Deep inside, Able can feel an excited buzzing, and something fluttering about inside.

The boyToday at 4:43 AM

Able presses his groin up into the deacon again, quietly whimpering, knowing he was already close but that it was out of reach like this. He is quickly running out of breath like this, his head growing a bit dizzy, but he knows he can likely go further. He shudders and twitches against the deacons own member, it was so close but he didn't know if he had the focus to properly finish with his head so fuzzy. He grips the deacon's shirt, trying to keep himself in focus.

Numerical AnalysisToday at 4:48 AM

Virgil: -Muffled; shifting lower in Able's body.- Mmhf. . .you're doing good. . .unf, relax. . .relaaax. . .

. . .the deacon suddenly groans, their exhalation almost perilously scalding Able's gums. Their grip tightens around Able's cock, smothering it against their own member as it burbles a streamer of numbing pre onto Able's chest. Inside, something grips at the inner walls of Able's throat, fluttering madly.

Virgil: -Quietly; deep in Able's chest.- Mmnf. . .I found it. . .mmhf. . .god. . !

The deacon's outer mandibles suddenly clamp down onto Able's cheekbones, the claws bruising small patches on his cheek; inside, Able feels the buzzing grow to a loud intensity, the vibrations reverberating across his ribcage and tickling his lungs.

Virgil: -Muffled; deep inside.- Mmh. Mmhhf. . .god. . .I can taste it. . .

The deacon suddenly lifts their head; the mandibles continue gripping onto Able's head, lifting his head up a little as well. In his throat, the chitinous tube is quickly retreating, tickling the walls of his throat as it slides back quickly.

Virgil: -Muffled; in Able's mouth.- I can taste the lust.

The boyToday at 4:57 AM

Able's arms move to the deacon's neck, clinging onto him as he takes slow breaths, his focus suddenly clearer. It's a bit too much for him, and he very quickly finds his release, his member twitching intensely before he's finished. It wasn't even enough fluid to note of, but enough to tell. Able groans, very quickly relaxing his whole body, now lazily finding himself exploring the mouthparts of the deacon again. He seemed fairly excited again about Virgil's need, his member hardening in the deacon's grasp once again.

Numerical AnalysisToday at 5:20 AM

The mouthparts in Able's jaw grip and grab at Able's mouth as he explores; in a moment, however, the deacon pulls their head off of Able, the secondary mandibles gripping Able's tongue for a moment before retracting. A warm, slick fluid is left in Able's mouth, not quite saliva but ever so slightly thicker.

Virgil: -Mmmhf. Your taste. . .mmmhhh, your taste is overwhelming. . .

The deacon pulls away from Able, flipping him over with ease so he's lying on his front. Immediately, he pushes his weight back onto Able, pulling at his pants and baring his lower end as his cock slips against Able's rear.

Virgil: -Buzzing; scowling.- I want more.

Able feels the deacon's broad, twin-tipped cock push against his rear for only a moment; however, it slips, pushing downwards and smearing a warmly numbing fluid across his crack and taint as the deacon's cock slips underneath Able. The deacon hooks arm around, squeezing Able tight and pinning them down. Their other arm moves to Able's member, smothering it against their own cock. Something drips onto Able's shoulder and neck; behind the back of his head, Able can hear manic chittering and mandibles clicking. The deacon sounds. . .less articulate, speaking with a very loud buzzing undertone. . .

Virgil: -Buzzing loudly; slightly unintelligible.- Just. . .one more. . .taste. . .

. . .before, suddenly, Able feels something clamp down hard; a pair of mandibles is wrapped at an awkward angle around Able's neck, slightly askew with one claw pushing into the nape of his neck and the other jabbing into his shoulder, hard.

The boyToday at 5:31 AM

Able's first thought is miffed that he can't hold onto anything, the next is a bit of fear. This fear seems to grow, and so does his excitement as he feels the deacon press himself against his rear, a small relief when it merely slips under him. The fear stays and intensifies as he feels the deacon bites down on him rather strangely. He hisses in pain, but grinds into the deacon's member, huffing a bit. It was close again, Able could feel himself already start to tense up.

Able: Gh... V-Virgil... Gentle..

He says, purposefully quiet. He tries not to make it too audible, he wasn't sure he actually wanted gentle. The fear burned a bit too nicely. He shudders, pressing himself a little bit up, so slightly into his mandibles.

Numerical AnalysisToday at 5:39 AM

Virgil: -Buzzing.- Taste. . .mmhhzzz. . .

The mandibles release for a moment before clamping down harder on Able's neck with enough force to break the skin; secondary mandibles tickle the nape of his neck, and something rough and wet flicks at the small amount of blood being drawn from Able's broken skin.

The deacon isn't speaking coherently; all that Able can hear is an unintelligible buzzing coursing through the mandibles, the sound reverberating in Able's neck and shoulders and leaving his head and neck sore. The hand clasped around Able's member squeezes tighter, the thumb massaging the head of Able's cock madly.

Virgil: -Buzzing.- Here. . .keep. . .

Able feels the deacon's cock push against his front and the mandibles on his neck pinch harder (drawing a bit more blood in the process); the deacon is leaning back, lifting Able up with only their hard cock and by their neck alone.

The deacon sits back, their arms hooked around Able's body and squeezing tight. Able can now see the entire length of the deacon's cock, which, fully aroused, reaches the entire length from his groin to an area right below his pecs. The color is a blend of maroon and black, the twin-tips feeling around unconsciously and rubbing against Able's chest lightly.

If Able were to turn his head back, he would see the deacon's apian eyes had entirely glazed over, the former pupils an indistinct cloud of red swirling in amber globes.

.

The boyToday at 5:49 AM

Able gasps, an oddly familiar feeling, he muses for a moment. Ah, he has bitten before hasn't he. Able is a bit more pleased this time, however. He can't quite pinpoint the emotion exactly, but he certainly feels fuzzy and scared, his head a bit light. He can feel himself close again, and its all over so suddenly, somehow release with even less fluid than last time.

He takes a small initiative, gripping the deacon's member into his hands, feeling along it, happily pressing it against himself. He doesn't make a lot of noise, stifling his whimpers and moans exceptionally well, though having a bit of assistance from the mandibles around his neck. He feels trapped. However it was nice? He would have to explore that later.

Numerical AnalysisToday at 5:55 AM

The deacon buzzes loudly, the mandibles pinching Able's neck and falling backwards as they slide their back along the headboard, such that they end up lying on their back on the bed.

Able sees the huge cock straddling his front twitch and swell in his hands, the tips parting with each throb; in the next instance, he sees brackish, black fluid spurt in thick streamers, spattering across his hand, catching in the hairs on his chest, and staining the sheets of the bed. The volume is large, enough to put Able to shame many times over.

The massive length throbs for a moment, leaving the bed moist, and caking Able's chest. Eventually, however, it slows down; once the throbbing ceases, it starts receding slowly. The arm hooked around Able's stomach slowly relaxes, trailing to the side; the hand wrapped around Able's member slowly releases, moving to lightly rest in his pubes; and the mandibles biting Able slowly relaxes, leaving two puncture wounds (one on the left side of his neck, and one on the back of his right shoulder).

Virgil: -Buzzing slowly trailing off.- . . .zzhhhrrff. . .zzmmhzz. . .mmnnf. . .huff. . .

The boyToday at 5:59 AM

Able sighs, a little relieved. His fear slowly fading, though his curiosity gets the better of him, tasting just a bit of the fluid. He blinks.. Of course.

Able: -Wheezing a bit.- hhf...ff.. That... was a bit more than I expected..

Numerical AnalysisToday at 6:00 AM

The deacon is lying on their back, breathless. The cloudiness in their eyes slowly solidifies into proper pupils, the glazed amber globes slowly clearing up.

Virgil: -Quietly.- . . .hhhff. . .mm. . .

A hand moves to Able's shoulder; the deacon props themselves up, lifting Able up with ease. Fingers run along Able's shoulder and neck, lightly feeling the puncture wounds.

Virgil: -Quietly.- . . .I shouldn't have done that..

The boyToday at 6:04 AM

Able turns around, looking a bit worried. He seems to forget his wounds for a bit, his brow furrowing.

Able: Are you alright?

Able completely turns his body, sitting now facing the deacon. He gently touches his mandibles, making a very serious face.

Able: Is your head clear?

Numerical AnalysisToday at 6:07 AM

The deacon stares at Able, raising a hand to hold Able's wrist.

Virgil: -Buzzing quietly.- . . .as far as I know, it is. For all I know, I could lose my head in the next moment, given. . .the environment. . .

The deacon raises their hands, tentatively fingering the wound on the left side of Able's neck.

Virgil: -Quietly; to themselves.- . . .it's not deep. . .but there's blood. . ..

The boyToday at 6:11 AM

Able: Tss.. Well don't poke at it.

Able hisses. He grips the deacon's wrists, sighing.

Able: You've done this before and I've survived, do not worry.

Able muses.

Able: I think perhaps you were more rough last time. Ah.

Able looks at himself, a little... coated.

Able: Certainly more fluids this time however... Hrm...

Numerical AnalysisToday at 6:14 AM

Virgil: -Dryly.- Come now, it was worth it before if only to terrify Catharine. . .

The deacon observes Able, sighing.

Virgil: . . .you'll have to wash yourself. Again. Focus on your neck and shoulder, this time.

The boyToday at 6:16 AM

Able: Oy. I wash fine. I am not going out in this though.

Able starts undressing. And complaining.

[

6:16 AM

]

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