CHAPTER 1

LEON'S POV

The room was lit up by the steady light from the laptop screen.

“Damian slammed his huge, veiny cock into me...”

I chewed on my bottom lip as I typed the words with shaking fingers, my breaths coming out fast in the silent room. 

My heart was racing so hard, it felt like it'd burst out of my chest at any second.

Below the draft, the comment section was a chaotic hive of digital lust.

Marlo18: God, just imagining the Golden Boy’s hard length makes me lose it.

SinnersSanctuary: Author, can you please answer this, and tell the truth... have you actually slept with Damian? This feels too real.

“If only,” I whispered to myself as I read that, my voice a breathless whisper in the cramped bedroom.

I leaned back, caressing the heavy bulge in my crotch before slipping my right hand slipping into the waistband of my stiff, black trousers. 

The fabric was like a cage against my erect dick.

The heat of it was almost too much.

Fuck, I was harder than a steel pole.

I closed my eyes, letting the blue light of the monitor burn against my eyelids. In my mind, the pristine, saintly image of Damian began to shift. 

That wasn't the image I needed right now. I didn't want the boy who helped old ladies cross the street. I wanted the monster I’d created on my page. I wanted a rough palm sliding over my skin, bruising the so-called purity my father prided himself on.

I was a Pastor’s son. The melted iron that was supposed to be twisted into a shape that pleased a God I was terrified of.

“Uh,” I groaned deeply as I squeezed the thick mushroom head of my dick, spreading the precum over the throbbing length before slipping it out completely out of my pants.

Everything else blurred as my hands began to move. The guilt, father's warnings, the fear.

They all became nothing as the tightness beneath my sternum grew.

I hissed out in pleasure as my hand moved faster, desperately.

Pausing, I quickly reached into my drawer for a lotion, almost knocking my diary down in my haste.

The added smoothness felt like heaven, and the plop-plopsounds of my hand sliding up and down my cock, drew me even closer to the edge.

“Oh fuck,” I groaned. “Yes…fuck, ohh yeah.”

I was so close, so close to the feverish pitch where the smell of the room transformed into the musky scent of a locker room. 

“Damian,” I moaned, feeling my dick jerk once as the release built, making my balls feel heavy.

“Leon? What are you doing in there?” a voice boomed from outside my door, followed by a knock and then the jangling of the doorknob.

And just like that, that voice broke both the fantasy and my soul.

“What did I say about locking yourself in your room, Leon?! Privacy is a breeding ground for the devil!” He jangled the handle again, “open this door or I will.”

The baritone voice of my father was the bane of my existence. I can't even count how many times I'd heard that same pitch right before receiving the beating of my life.

In those moments when he hit me, it was extremely hard to believe that this was the same man who left a congregation of three hundred every Sunday.

My heart stopped, and my blood turned to ice.

Swiftly, I  slammed the power button with the heel of my hand. The monitor died with a soft whine, plunging the room into a tomb-like darkness. 

“Oh Lord,” I panicked, scrambling and fumbling with my zipper. My fingers felt numb, my movements sloppy due to the release I didn't get.

I was trying to tuck away the still hard and pulsing evidence of my sin, when the was pushed open.

Das stood in the doorway, like an angel of punishment.

The faint scent of church incense trailed behind him, clashing violently with the smell of my own sweat and arousal.

“You have exactly twenty seconds to explain yourself,” he muttered flatly, glancing at his watch.

“I’m... I was studying for a quiz,” I stammered, keeping my head down as I stared unblinkingly at the scuffed floorboards. My heart was thumping so hard I was sure he could see my shirt vibrating.

“Is that so?” Dad stepped into the room. Each footfall felt like a hammer blow. “Then why did you lock your door for that?”

“I wanted to be able to concentrate, sir,” I answered, trying to keep my voice steady.

“And why is your light off?”

The light switch flipped as the question left his mouth. I flinched against the sudden brighteness that flooded the room.

“Hard work is a virtue, son. But the mind must not wander in the dark,” dad added calmly.

That calmness never meant well for me though.

“I'm sorry, father.” I swallowed hard, holding my hands firmly down in front of me to hide the bulge.

Stupid thing had a mind of its own, because why couldn't it recognise the danger I was in and just…go soft?

Dad didn't say anything else as he moved closer. Then he reached out, his hand coming to rest on the warm plastic of the computer tower. I felt the air leave my lungs. If he turned it back on…he merely had to read the first few lines and I would be toast.

“You look flushed,” he noted, his voice turning cold. It was the tone he used right before the “deliverance” sessions. “The flesh is a rebellious servant, Leon. It craves the slavery of desire. It forgets the dignity of the spirit.”

“I was just... the math problems were really difficult,” I lied, the words tasting like ash on my tongue. “I have been using the computer for a long time trying to solve them, and that's why it's still…warm.”

“Hm,” dad nodded. “So I take it you weren't looking at pictures and videos of naked women?”

“No sir,” I answered. 

And that was extremely true, because I had never looked at those.

I was much more inclined to look at naked pictures of men, and I knew this from a young age.

Dad must have seen the truth on my face, or at least hints of it. Because his hand left the computer and moved to his waist. The metallic clink of his belt buckle being unnotched echoed in the silence, sending a cold trail down my spine.

“On your knees,” he commanded.