[This is Chapter One of a six-chapter finished novella that will complete posting by the end of September 2021.]
Gabe–Gabriel Fortier–could see part way up the center aisle when he turned his head to the left. The altar in the center of the platform at the front of the Duson Christian Church sanctuary was just a table and Gabe was laid out on the dais behind it. The table was covered by an altar cloth, but that didn’t go all the way to the floor. The young, dark haired and dusky complexioned man of French Creole extraction, who probably had some Caribbean black in him but far enough in the past only to bring dark and handsome to mind when he was described, was lying on his back on the floor behind the altar in the Evangelical church on the edge of Duson, Louisiana, a few clicks west of Lafayette, Louisiana, just off the highway from New Orleans heading into Texas.
The other man’s reddish-brown hair was moving in waves as his head bobbed up and down on Gabe’s cock. He’d pulled Gabe’s jeans and briefs off and raised the young man’s T-shirt over his head, leaving him naked as he was stretched out on the wood floor in the chancel area of the small, weather-beaten chapel. Gabe’s legs were spread and bent to give the man room to lie between them. The man was gripping Gabe’s hands with his, trapping Gabe under him and controlling him.
Gabe liked to be controlled; it took any sense of guilt for being involved in this away from him–in his mind. He was a complete submissive. He had made a desultory effort to withdraw from the act and had struggled a bit when the man had first embraced him, kissed him, and taken him to the floor behind the altar. But he couldn’t say he didn’t want to have sex with this man. Once he was under the man’s control, Gabe had gone docile and opened his legs to the man’s desire. At that point, now that he was into the act, it became Gabe’s desire as well. He was moving his hips now, rhythmically, to move his cock in the man’s mouth, going with rather than fighting against the suck, both of them moaning their pleasure.
This wasn’t the first time he’d played this game with the man–this game of giving himself as a sacrifice to the man. The first time the man fucked Gabe in this room, he’d done it up there right on top of the altar. He’d pushed the brass candle sticks and cross right down onto the floor and hoisted Gabe up, already stripped down to naked, and laid him on his back on the altar, with his ass on the edge of one of the narrow sides. Gabe had already been subdued, kissed and fondled, face fucked and finger fucked in the ass, and he was completely subdued, begging for it like he’d gotten it before in the church kitchen and in the man’s car.
“Put your ankles on my shoulders,” the man had commanded, and Gabe had done that. And then the man mumbled something about sacrifice of the lamb and said, “Stretch your arms straight out, like a crucifix. Sacrifice to me.” And Gabe had done that. His elbows had gone to the edge of the altar, front and back, straight out from his side, and his forearms projected over the edges. Then the man put his dick inside Gabe, grabbed him by the waist with both hands, pulled him on and off his cock, and fucked him good. Once the man had gotten his dick inside him, Gabe just lay there, moaning quietly, his face turned toward the empty pews, his pelvis rolled up to accept the man as deep as he could get, and let the man take what he wanted.
This was predominantly a Catholic area, so the congregation of the Evangelical church was small. Gabe’s mother had told him there would be no good to be had in going to work part time for “those Evangelical nuts” his last semester of high school over in Lafayette, where Gabe had been a standout on the baseball team. If she could see him now, the older man lying between Gabe’s thighs, his arms wrapped around Gabe’s legs and his hands gripping Gabe’s hands to hold him trapped in place, his mouth sucking on Gabe’s cock, and Gabe moving his hips in rhythm with the suck, she’d be livid. She’d be petrified. It wouldn’t help her disposition any to be watching when the man moved up Gabe’s body, spread and raised the young man’s legs, penetrated, and raised and lower his butt in the fuck.
She’d probably be dead, Gabe thought. She’d have a coronary. She’d also read him the riot act about being just like his father, who had left her high and dry, running off with a younger man, having come back from the Second World War in Europe eight years earlier with a nervous tick and more interest in men than women–having gone with men because there were no women in the trenches and finding he liked that the best anyway.
But Gabe had seen how happy his father had been with his young man and he’d not taken the insult like his mother had. It had actually helped him consider possibilities and examine his desire structure. That had led him to be on the floor here, behind the altar. This wasn’t his first time with the charismatic older man, Elijah Parker, either. It wasn’t the first time the man had gotten his dick inside Gabe.
Gabe murmured resistance and struggled a bit each time, but he was happy enough when he at least symbolically came under the man’s control and was moved into the suck and fuck.
Gabe gasped and arched his back as a wet finger entered his ass and pressed in. His control established, Elijah loosened his grip on Gabe’s legs and freed the young man’s hands. Gabe bent his legs more, placing his bare feet flat on the dusty boards of the floor behind the altar, and widened his stance. He raised his pelvis to the man’s penetrating fingers. His hands went to the back of Elijah’s head, his fingers digging into the wavy reddish-brown hair, holding the man’s head close in for his deep-throating possession of Gabe’s young cock. He moaned as Elijah, grasping and separating his buttocks and now, with fingers of both hands inside his channel, went into overdrive in his mouth action on Gabe’s cock.
The younger man knew that Elijah would want him to come in the man’s throat and then he’d cover Gabe and fuck him. That had been the liberation Elijah Parker had brought to Gabe–he’d taken Gabe from not knowing and aching to try it to having done it and learned that ecstasy was having a man inside you. In contrast to Gabe’s nakedness, the man was still dressed, in black. Only his fly was unzipped and his dick, in upcurved erection, was exposed.
He desperately wanted Gabe–a man like Elijah had to fully possess a young man like Gabe. He had to merge with the young man, be one with him, dominate him completely. This uncontrollable desire for him drove Gabe’s arousal as well and his willingness to lie under the man. No one had wanted Gabe the way Elijah did.
With a groan and a gasp, Gabe came in Elijah’s throat and, knowing that the older man would want to go immediately into the fuck, raised his legs, folding his legs up into his chest and tucking his knees into the hollow of his shoulders, rolling his pelvis up, as the older man moved up on his body. Elijah, now hovering over Gabe and looking down into the younger man’s face, capturing his focus, their eyes locked, and exercising the charismatic control over Gabe that had the young man under his sexual control, placed the heel of his left hand down on the wooden floor beside Gabe’s right ear and positioned the bulb of his cock at Gabe’s entrance. With a grunt from Elijah and a gasp from Gabe, Elijah was in to the depth of the bulb.
“Shit. Fuck,” Gabe moaned.
Elijah’s right hand came down beside Gabe’s left ear and the older man was hovering over Gabe’s torso, staring down into the young man’s face, observing every expression on it.
He saw the grimace in the young man’s face and felt the palms of Gabe’s hands slide under his waistband and cup his buttocks. He then felt the pressure of Gabe pulling his pelvis forward and heard the whispered, “Now. Do it. Fuck me,” as the pressure from the young man’s hands caused him to gain a few inches.
Gabe was panting. Then Gabe was giving a little cry, arching his back more and projecting his pain-pleasure in his eyes and yawning mouth as Elijah slid deeper inside him. He was filling, stretching Gabe’s channel walls and moving deep inside him, possessing Gabe in the most intimate way possible. The pumping started immediately, with Gabe’s hands going to Elijah’s shoulders and his own pelvis going into motion, moving with Elijah’s thrusts.
They were merged, one again, Elijahgabe, moving as one, perfect, divine machine.
When the rhythm had been established, Gabe relaxed his body and let his arms stretch out straight from his sides in the cruciform pattern he knew Elijah liked him to be in when they fucked to symbolize his total submission, their oneness. The young man let his head loll off to the left side, his eyes focused on the triangular perspective of the center aisle of the congregation hall running from the raised platform the altar was on back toward the door at the back of the hall.
He concentrated on the cock moving inside him. It was neither particularly thick nor long, but this was Gabe’s first anal-sex man, so he’d taken no other man inside him and had nothing to compare Elijah against. All he knew was that he felt wanted and fully possessed. He found it filling and masterful. He also, strangely enough, felt a sense of power and control of his own–the sense of victory and accomplishment that a man like Elijah Parker, a man of the cloth and the commanding spirit of this congregation, wanted to be inside him–was willing to take the risks of fucking him, barely legal, in the chancel, behind the altar–the altar of Elijah’s own church.
Gabe sighed, straining his pelvis up, into Elijah’s groin, as he felt the older man tense, jerk, and ejaculate inside his channel. Gabe’s eyes had been closed, but, as Elijah went through a series of after thrusts inside Gabe before withdrawing, and gave Gabe a low sob that let Gabe know how much of this was his own control, Gabe opened his eyes, looking out under the altar toward the pews in the hall.
He froze as he saw, just on the other side of the altar, the black Mary Jane shoes.
“Pastor Elijah Parker,” the angry, despairing voice of a woman cut through the silence in the hall. “You said never again. You promised. You expel that devil from you right this minute.”
The beginning of the wrath of Mrs. Elijah Parker, wife of the pastor of the Duson Christian Church.