Father Barton hated masturbating the dogs. It was demeaning for the young priest to have to put his hands on the dirty canine pricks and balls, rubbing them until the dogs first grew and then got all slimy until, finally, they unloaded copious amounts of doggie sperm into the glass jar, but how else could he collect his special “vitamin elixir” for the boys? He could not very well ask one of the other priests to do it. They already wondered why the orphanage had eight big black dogs. Father Baron told the other priests it was for the boys to have company. Boys loved pets. He never, of course, mentioned that those same dogs fucked some of the little boys in the ass several times a week.
Not all the boys were sexually abused. Oh, no, only the most beautiful ones, and the ones who seemed the most submissive, just a few boys that he could torture and abuse to his heart’s content, boys who were too scared, shy, or weak ever to tell anyone. Father Barton had to be careful. He had to play his cards just right to keep the orphanage running just as he liked it.
Father Barton carried his jar of dog cum and a large spoon into the boys’ dormitory. His dick was already rock hard. There were five rooms with ten beds in each room. The other priests suggested that the boys be segregated according to age so that the younger ones would not be corrupted by the older boys, but Father Barton insisted on mixing them up. He wanted the younger boys sullied in every way. He wanted the six and seven-year-old orphan boys to be able to stare at the thick hanging dicks of the seventeen-year-olds. He knew some of the older boys raped the younger ones in the mouth and ass, and he just never seemed to catch any of them! Well, he did catch them on his hidden video cameras, but he never stopped any of the abuse. After all, the older boys would soon be leaving, and they needed some experience with their big fucking cocks, didn’t they?
They had never had girls, dated girls, or even talked to girls. At the Friday night movies, Father Barton made sure to always show films with lots of teenage flesh on display, so that the older boys needed to shoot a load of teen fuck and empty their big fat balls. After a good teenage comedy with some semi-naked flesh, several of the six to eight-year-old orphans were sure to get their mouths and asses opened by the older boys.
Father Barton especially liked it when four or five of the older boys ganged up on one little one. Sometimes, he’d move the other boys out of the dorm, giving them a camping experience or a special night in the media room where there were video games, leaving one little six-year-old with five or six big dicked seventeen-year-olds. He would later watch the video he made and masturbate his big fat priest dick as he enjoyed the mouth and ass rape of the six-year-old, one teenage cock in the little boy’s mouth and another up his ass. They would take turns stretching the little boy’s asshole and raping his throat. The horny seventeen-year-olds would fuck the boy two to three times each. Fucking teenage sperm splattered the little boy, and the bed and the floor.
Whenever a little boy would complain to him, he would call the boy a lying baby, and he would punish the boy by taking a belt or a birch rod to the kid’s sweet pale little round ass cheeks. He would beat the little ass until it was black, and the boy was hysterical with pain, promising never to lie again. Was it any wonder that, as the boys at the orphanage got older, they could not wait for their turn to abuse other boys?
Each night the boys from five to twelve years old queued in the hallway, and Father Barton went down the line of boys giving each a spoonful of his special “vitamin elixir.” The little boys stood dressed in only their tiny white underpants to take their medicine. Father Barton allowed his eyes to rape the pale small bodies, the smooth skin, the baby nipples. Father Barton never wore anything under his cassock. He was stark naked except for shoes and socks. His huge fat leaking dick would rub against the rough material of the cassock and leak all over his nuts and drip down his thighs. He loved to see the little ones dutifully swallow the spoonful of dog cum. One or two special boys, who were so cute Father Barton almost came just looking at them, got two spoonfuls.
“That’s my good little darling, swallow it down. Now, lick your lips. That a boy. It will make you big and strong.”
On this particular night, however, he hurried through his chores. After giving out the medicine, he opened a laundry bag, and with a snap of his fingers, all the little boys removed their underpants. They now stood bare-ass naked, their sweet round pale asses on display, and, in front, their peanut-sized as yet undeveloped pricklets, such pretty little pricklets. The boys put their dirty underpants in the laundry bag and stood at attention, so Father Barton could see their small naked bodies. Smooth, pale bodies, slender and fragile, pale nipples, angelic faces with soft pink lips and little button noses.
One naked little six-year-old caught his eye, and he reminded himself to turn the little shit over to some of the rougher seventeen-year-old boys. Father Barton had a group of four older boys who pretty much did whatever he wanted. They had been trained to think like him, and now had similar interests. In fact, he had decided to keep them on once they grew too old to be in the orphanage. He would hire them as groundskeepers and maintenance men. Father Baton could not wait to see the little six-year-old fucked by the dogs, as the older teenage boys stood around jerking on their fat leaking dicks.
However, on this particular night, Father Barton hurried back to his private quarters. He had an appointment with a beautiful twelve-year-old. Tyler was waiting for him outside the entrance to his rooms. Tyler was fair-haired and slender. He was a good boy who tried to stay out of trouble. Father Barton signaled the boy into his chambers. He had to move carefully, as his huge fat dick was rubbing his cassock and leaking all over his big nut sack and his hairy legs.
“Well, Tyler, you know why you are here?”
He was clearly terrified. He chewed on his pretty lower lip and scraped one shoe on the floor.
“Why are you here?”
“I have prick hair.”
The boy gulped as he said it. It was so embarrassing.
“You have prick hair. And you know we don’t allow boys under sixteen to have prick hair. You younger boys don’t know to properly maintain it, and it's dirty and filled with germs. You’re not allowed any prick or ball hair, and you disobeyed me. I hear that you were even bragging to some of the boys that you were proud of your prick hair. That it meant you were growing up, becoming a man!”
Tears formed in the eyes of the little twelve-year-old.
“Do you know how fucking sinful that is? Do you think Jesus likes you talking about your prick hair and bragging about how your dick is growing? Why do you care if your dick grows? Are you thinking sinful thoughts about fucking girls?”
The boy was crying pretty hard now.
“No, sir!” he managed between sobs.
“You should be attending to your studies and praying for salvation to the Lord Jesus Christ, and you are thinking about your dirty little dick!” He slapped the boy hard. “I’ll bet you think about dick all the time. Do you think about the dicks of the older boys too?”
The scared little kid shook his head. Tears flew off his sweet pink cheeks.
“Do you think about the big fat dicks of the priests?”
“Honest, sir, I don’t.”
It was true, he didn’t. He was a good boy.
“Do you think about the huge fucking dick of our Lord Jesus Christ under his loincloth as he hangs on the cross? Do you think about the big fat dick of Jesus, and do you play with your dirty little dick while you do?”
The boy was so terrified, he fell to his knees. He put his hands together as if he was praying.
Father Barton took the soft young face in one hand and held it firmly.
“Do you think about the big fat cocks on the twelve disciples? Big fat cocks and balls under their robes. Do you think about the disciples kissing Jesus and their fat dicks getting all hard and leaking?”
He pushed the boy onto the floor.
“Strip off your clothes and go into the bathroom and pull out that offensive prick hair. And make sure there is no hair forming on your ball sack or asshole.”
The boy stumbled to his feet. He started to move toward the priest’s private bathroom. The priest snapped his fingers.
“Strip off your fucking clothing here in front of me!”
The young orphan boy undressed. First, he took off his high tops, then his shirt, then his pants until he stood in underpants and socks. The boy had small brown nipples on his flat chest, so chewable. The boy peeled off his socks, revealing his rather large feet. He was still growing.
‘What a perfect cunt this boy will make,’ Father Barton thought to himself. ‘I have been lusting after this little ass for some time, just waiting for him to fuck up.’
He stood there with his arms crossed across his slender chest, dressed in only his little white underpants. His small ass was gorgeous in the white undies, and the slight bulge in the front looked delicious, so fucking fuckable. He imagined the boy in extreme pain.
“Well, you can’t pull out your prick hair wearing underpants.”
The boy peeled down his underpants and kicked them away, standing up naked as he was born—as he was meant to be. There were only a few soft prick hairs above his developing dick and balls, but the boy was obviously into puberty.
“That is the most disgusting sight I have ever seen. You are supposed to be pure, an altar boy for the Lord, and you offend Christ with prick hair. Get in that bathroom and pull them out!”
Father Barton took lots of photos of Tyler as he pulls out his prick hair. Father Barton had thousands of pictures of his boys. He masturbated his fat leaking dick as he watched the boy lift his tiny prick and pull half dozen hairs on his tiny nut sack. After the boy was clean, Father Barton inspected him. He held the boy’s scrotum and felt for stubble. He squeezed the little, just fallen nuggets. They felt like velvet. He rubbed his fingers over the pubic mound and around the tight pink puckered asshole. The boy trembled when he did this.
“Are you having sexual thoughts, boy, in front of an emissary of the Lord God?”
He worked one finger up into the boy’s asshole, through the very tight tiny pucker. The little boy rose up on his toes.
“Ah...no...no, sir. It’s just that—”
The priest grabbed the boy’s tiny dick and started to frig it.
“Is this dirty fucking little boy dick getting hard? Are you thinking sinful thoughts about me?”
The poor twelve-year-old did not know what to do. His dick got hard so often lately. He tried to pray more. He wanted to keep it soft, but it just boned up all the time. It probably had something to do with the two Viagra a day that Father Barton was feeding the boy.
“You dirty fucking little sinner, you need to be punished. You need to be punished for offending Jesus, don’t you?”
The priest stood back looking at the boy’s hard little dick. Beneath it hung the boy’s newly dropped testicles, so pretty in their small pink sack.
“Yes, sir, I need to be punished. I’m sorry I offended Jesus.”
Tyler knew what to say. All the boys knew they always had to agree with Father Barton.
“All right then, we’re going to punish you to cleanse you. To purify you. To drive the evil, sinful thoughts out of your fucking twelve-year-old slut body. Lay down on that coffee table…on your back…lift your legs to your chest…grab your legs behind the knees…spread your legs as wide apart as you can.”
Holy fuck, the boy was gorgeous like that with his prick and balls and tiny asshole on full display. The boy curled his pretty little twelve-year-old toes in fear.
“What I am going to do, Tyler, is beat your balls with a belt. I am going to beat your newly dropped nuts to teach you that you must drive evil thoughts out of your head. You must take care that you grow no more of that ugly prick or ball hair. You must not touch your dick for sinful purposes. Now to protect you, I am going to tape your hard little cock to your tummy out of the way of your nuts. That way the belt won’t hurt your cock. I am going to beat your little balls twelve times hard with the belt. If you cry out or close your legs, we will go back to one and start again. Do you understand?”
The priest’s prick was leaking copiously beneath his robe. He loved the look of stark terror on the boy’s face. He wondered how the boy would react later, after the beating when he shoved the crucifix up his tiny asshole.
“In the name of Jesus, I wipe out sin!” he thundered, bringing the belt down hard against the little boy’s fleshy sex sack. This was going to be a fun night!