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It was either go of his own will or be forced to go. Samuel’s stomach dropped as he stared at the church’s exit. At the very least, he had nothing to burden him on his one-way journey. Yet he couldn’t help but think how nice it would’ve been to at least act like there was some hope of him returning from this ordeal.
A cold breeze jolted Sam out of his reverie. His legs began moving without his permission. He wasn’t alone in the sanctuary: two guards stood in the center of the room, monitoring his slow meander towards the open door. Nobody else had bothered to come see his departure, because nobody wanted to risk being infected by his sin.
Sam started walking a little faster upon remembering his companions. The idea of being kneecapped and dragged out the door like a dog just didn’t appeal to him. If The Order would give him no dignity in life, then he would at least claim some dignity in death. It was a miracle that they hadn’t decided to burn him; but he supposed that was a punishment reserved for those whose sins were somehow greater than his. After all, gasoline was a precious resource.
He was through the doorway before he even realized it; he was too numb to register his surroundings anymore. Loud footsteps rapidly approached, quickly followed by the heavy church doors screeching closed. Sam resisted the urge to look behind him as he walked down the steps.
Flakes of the burned world floated around him, obscuring his view. But he could already hear the chattering and hissing of the beings who would be his judgment. So he kept walking. There was no point in stopping and waiting for his executioners to come to him, it would only prolong the inevitable.
Once some time had passed without him being attacked, Sam realized that none of the creatures were coming closer to him. He could see shapes in his peripheral vision, but nothing had moved towards him. And that scared him. If none of the lesser demons were claiming him, then only the greater demons were capable of administering his torment.
A new noise joined the cacophony: a faint metallic scraping from dead ahead. Samuel faltered; he knew exactly who was coming to meet him. The scraping grew louder and louder until Sam could finally see the Red Pyramid’s silhouette. It cast an imposing figure; a grotesque embodiment of masculine beauty that made Sam’s heart beat faster. Knowing his place, he instantly dropped to his knees and pulled his hood over his head, touching his forehead to the ground. He hadn’t prepared a speech ahead of the time, the words just flowed out of him.
“Apostle. I must be cleansed of my sin. I ask only that you spare my soul, if you must destroy my body.”
My body. Those words made Sam cringe. In truthfulness, it made no difference to him what this god did to his body. He had already cut it in so many places, and bound parts of himself so tightly that the bruises seemed permanent. His body rarely brought him pleasure, but pain was guaranteed.
Samuel waited, head bowed. But a blow never came. Pyramid’s slow breathing and Sam’s heartbeat in his own ears were now the only sounds in the courtyard.
The Pyramid shifted and Sam braced himself, crushing his forehead to the cold stone ground until it was sure to draw blood. The screech of metal on stone was deafening now, but it stopped abruptly when Pyramid stopped in front of him.
What connected with Sam’s neck was entirely unexpected. Instead of a sword, a filthy gloved hand grabbed at the robe around his neck, slipping downwards as the creature’s fingers encircled Sam’s nape. He gasped involuntarily, gooseflesh spreading across his body, but his gasp was cut off when the Pyramid lifted him bodily by the neck.
“Sgjfhhngf-,” Sam spluttered, clawing at the hand in panic. Before he knew it he was standing on his own two feet, eyes level with the Apostle’s broad, blood-splattered chest.
“I - I am not worthy to stand in your presence,” he whispered. Blood rushed to his face and shame gripped his heart. He knew that the Executioner was aware of his innermost thoughts, and the fact that those thoughts weren’t exactly… pure.
The Pyramid stared at Sam as he dropped his eyes to the ground. Why had it not killed him yet? He had broken the sacred, god-given laws of gender. Bitterness swelled in him and he took a step backwards, still keeping his eyes down.
“Is this my torment?” he spat. “To be stared at for eternity? I’ve had enough of that, thanks.” Although the creature had no eyes, he could feel its gaze boring through him, dissecting every secret thought he’d ever had.
A faint slithering noise came from beneath the Executioner’s mask. Sam froze. He should have known better than to insult the Apostle, but his anger had gotten the better of him. At least he had finally provoked it into killing him.
Sam yelped when a fleshy appendage came into view, making straight for his throat. But instead of strangling him, it slipped under his cowl and brushed against his neck in a caress so soft that it might have come from a lover. He couldn’t stop the shudder that wracked his frame when it trailed down the back of his neck, all the way to the sensitive spot between his shoulder blades.
“Wh-what are you doing?”
The Pyramid gave him no answer. Instead it stepped closer, its tongue continuing to coil down Sam’s body, twisting around his abdomen beneath his robe. There seemed to be no limit to it. Sam felt his body responding as the warm, wet thing began to follow his happy trail.
Sam’s body began to lock up again when an unpleasant thought entered his mind: this must be a test. The Apostle was tempting him, trying to gauge his character. Why else would it tempt him into laying with a man like this…if The Executioner could really be called a man? It made Sam’s head hurt to consider the fact that this was several sins at once: lust, but also some twisted, fake version of homosexuality. Did the Apostle…even see him as a man?
Dysphoria swelled in Sam’s stomach and threatened to make him ill. But before his thoughts could become much darker, a commanding hand grabbed hold of his arm and pulled him forward. He was now flush against the Pyramid’s body, almost burned by the heat it was throwing off. A deep rumble vibrated in its chest as its tongue finally slithered beneath the waistband of Sam’s shorts.
Sam gasped, clawing at the Executioner’s forearm as the hot tongue began laving at his cock. He was desperately hard and embarrassingly wet; the touch bordered on overstimulation.
“God! I don’t - I don’t understand -” but his sentence ended in a squeal when the monster’s tongue plunged into his wetness. “FUCK!”
He fell to his knees as the Apostle’s tongue worked inside of him. Sam had never felt pleasure like this; his stomach was already tightening in anticipation of his climax. But before he could cum, Pyramid’s tongue retreated. The Executioner kicked Sam’s shoulder, sending him sprawling. It then placed a heavy boot on Sam’s groin as its tongue slowly disappeared back into its rusted helmet.
“Please…please,” Sam whispered, eyes rolling back as the Apostle ground its heavy boot down against his cock and swollen hole. Tears rolled down Sam’s cheeks and his eyes rolled back, a shock of pleasure zapping through him. When his eyes focused again, he noticed the tenting of the Executioner’s robe. It stopped grinding its boot down into him when it realized he was staring.
Although the god didn’t make any noise, Sam sensed that it wanted him on his knees. He shakingly obeyed, shuffling forward on his knees desperately. His lust had taken over, and he didn’t care. He had never felt desire so intense before. And, being a virgin, he had never had a chance to taste the sins of the flesh.
The Apostle reached down to undo the belts at its waist that held its tunic closed. The belts fell to the ground with a heavy clang, and its cock jutted proudly into the air. Sam was filled with fear again now as well as lust; how in the world was this thing going to fit inside of his mouth, let alone his hole ?
The Pyramid grunted and roughly grabbed Sam by his short cropped hair, forcing his face up against its cock. He opened his mouth obediently, grabbing the sides of Pyramid’s tunic to brace himself. The salty head pushed past his lips, its foreskin soft like velvet against Sam’s tongue. He moaned like a whore then, slipping a hand down to work his own dick through his robe.
But something - that tongue, once again - whipped down quickly to coil around Sam’s wrist and deny him from pleasuring himself. He sobbed around the thick cock in his mouth, the noise dissolving into a gag when Pyramid bucked its hips. Sam choked, tears once again pouring from his eyes and snot beginning to run from his nose. The Executioner hummed, becoming gentle again. It placed its other hand on his head and pulled him farther down onto its dick. His captor began fucking his mouth, taking control of his movements but being careful not to gravely injure him. Sam humped the air like a dog in heat, almost mindless now in his search for friction. The Pyramid rumbled again and Sam vaguely realized it was laughing at him, thoroughly enjoying the sight of its new toy begging for stimulation.
Sam let go of the god’s tunic and ran his hands up its abdomen, worshiping its perfection. He let one hand drop down to cup its heavy balls, groaning when they twitched in response to his touch. His need was so great now that he suddenly came, his body wracked with an orgasm so intense that his vision went hazy.
Pyramid released him, letting him fall backwards and watching as he writhed on the ground. The waves of pleasure kept rolling. Sam screamed, tearing at his robe, his mind filled only with pleasure. The Apostle knelt, grabbing one of Sam’s thighs and pushing his robe up to his waist. It had finally broken through his mind’s walls; now it was time to break his body.
“God, fuck, please, yes, PLEASE!” Sam screamed as Pyramid tore his shorts from his body. It grabbed him firmly now, one massive hand on each hip, and pulled him up to meet its cock.
There was no warning, only a sharp stab of pain as the god’s member was forced deep inside of Sam, all the way to the hilt. Sam screamed and his nails scrabbled for purchase on the ground as the pain overwhelmed him. Once his blood had anointed its member, The Apostle again became gentle. Its eager tongue appeared again, slithering down to encircle Sam’s dick. It squeezed and stroked, causing Sam’s walls to spasm around the Pyramid. It groaned a deep, grating noise and pulled back, pushing in slowly this time to savor Sam’s warmth.
Sam’s pain was fading with each thrust, replaced now by ecstasy. He shuddered and bucked as Pyramid became demanding once more and fucked him hard, its balls slapping his ass with each filthy thrust. The Apostle grunted with each slap, its animalistic noises echoing off the walls of the buildings around them. Sam came, and came again, then once more, crying out in agonized ecstasy every time his body spasmed.
Finally, Pyramid gave a strangled grunt and quickly pulled out. Thick, white ropes of semen painted Sam’s face, body, and robe, marking him with the god’s blessing. Sam sobbed, his hole clenching in search of the overwhelming fullness that had been so abruptly taken away. Pyramid hummed and reached down, fitting itself inside of him once again. It pulled him up into its lap; Sam reflexively wrapped his legs around its hips as it began to fuck him once more. He was no more than a rag doll now, flopping uselessly as the Apostle held him. His last orgasm slammed into him just as the Executioner groaned, holding Sam down firmly so that its semen went deep inside. Sam felt every twitch of its cock, and the way its sweaty abdomen heaved with the aftershocks of its pleasure.
Sam's vision began spinning as he slipped out of the demon's lap, and then out of consciousness. The last thing he felt before he blacked out was a massive gloved hand closing around his ankle.
Sam’s eyes fluttered open. He looked around, able to vaguely see the outline of a dilapidated apartment room. The room was gloomy except for a sliver of rusty light filtering down from a hole in the ceiling. The walls were covered in a reddish dust; the air here somehow felt oppressive. He shifted and realized he was laying on a cot…and that there was an unfamiliar - but not totally unpleasant - soreness between his legs. It began coming back to him then, and he realized that The Executioner had brought him here. Meaning…it wasn’t going to kill him?
Sam was suddenly aware of a presence drawing near. He sat up; he could feel the god coming down the hallway outside of the door - which was made of metal bars instead of wood. He scrambled to his feet and limped to the door; his heart dropped once he tugged on the bars and confirmed that it was locked.
Reassurance filled his soul as the god sensed his fear. He saw it now, and heard its sword dragging on the cold floor.
“I don’t understand, what’s going to happen to me?” Sam asked, knowing he wouldn’t get a verbal answer. The Pyramid stopped outside of his door and allowed Sam to grab its arm.
Suddenly, he understood. The Apostle was keeping him safe here; safe from the other, far more cruel gods who roamed this place. As long as he remained inside the bounds of The Executioner’s domain - and behind this locked door when alone to deter the unruly lesser demons - no harm would come to him. Apart from harming himself, Sam had not truly sinned, so he did not need to be punished...at least, not in any traditional sense of the word. Clearly, Sam's captor wanted to inflict a unique form of purgatory on its pet. Sam couldn’t help but wonder how many other provocative ways this god would find to help him atone for any minor sins he had committed.
The Apostle’s long tongue slipped out from beneath its helmet and touched Sam’s hand. He allowed himself a small smile and rested his forehead against the bars.
He never could have imagined a world where he could be himself and no longer fear judgment. Even if that world was hell, he would gladly take it.