CONTENT WARNING: Graphic Sex, NonCon/DubCon, and other disturbing topics

Jorahn cringed as he entered the back door of the abbey. He could count on a fist the number of times he’d willingly walked into a church, and the times where he’d been unwilling? He pushed the memories back into the dark recesses of his mind and followed the robed porter down the silent corridor.

The abbey sat tucked away in the middle of the [Name] Forest, its crumbling walls seemingly held together by the roots and vines that webbed through the bricks. Tree limbs and branches poked in through the windows, forcing Jorahn to duck and sidestep every so often to avoid them. The porter moved ahead with ease, keeping his lantern low to keep from starting any fires. Their footsteps barely made a sound as they walked on the moss-carpeted stones, leaving only the chirps and cries of the night to fill the silence between them.

Just as the porter had nothing to say, Jorahn got little information from the man who picked him from the brothel. He hadn’t a clue as to why a man of the church would even set foot in the place. The others were quick to write him off, barely letting him get a word out before determining that he was wasting their time. Yet, the fact that a man pious enough to shave most of his head actually entered the building and was asking for help was something that Jorahn couldn’t ignore. He had plenty of reasons to not want anything to do with the church. But something about the idea of a prostitute being the one to aid the church struck something low in him.

Now, he started to question whether his chance for petty revenge was worth it. Voices came from ahead as Jorahn and the porter rounded a corner. A light shone from an open door, barely piercing the shadows that clogged the corridor. The porter stepped aside, gesturing for Jorahn to continue on his own. Nodding his thanks, Jorahn moved towards the light, the voices coming more clearly with each step.

“Will this really work?”

“We have no choice but to try.”

“This is blasphemy. We should not allow him to remain here.”

Jorahn frowned as he came to the door. “Hello?”

Three men turned to look at him from just inside the threshold. Candlelight shone from their shaved heads, and turned their brown robes black. They studied Jorahn openly, each with an expression that let him know which voice belonged to which man.

The Questioner chewed at his lip as his gaze roamed Jorahn’s body. “Are you… You are from th-the brothel?”

Jorahn nodded, fighting the urge to laugh at the man. If the skintight trousers and the translucent shirt wasn’t a clear answer, the iron band around his neck should have been a dead giveaway.

“He should not be here,” the Cynic said. The man cast a sidelong glance into the room. “Neither of them should. These are holy grounds.”

Jorahn followed the man’s gaze. A set of folding screens stood in a circle at the back of the room, the bottom of a bed visible under their bottom edges. A soft whimper slid out from the area, growing in intensity until it became a guttural scream.

Jorahn balked, taking a step back. “What the hell is going on?”

“Language, please.” The Rational one sighed, shaking his head. “My name is Brother Yosef. Thank you for heeding our call. Please, come this way.”

Hesitating for just a moment, Jorahn followed Brother Yosef further into the room. “My apologies, but what was that scream?”

“That… was Marwan.” Brother Yosef stopped at the edge of the folding screens and peeked between them. His brow furrowed at what he saw, and he turned away. “He went into a forbidden area of the forest and returned… changed.”

“Changed?” Jorahn eyed the screens, wondering what kind of creature could be behind them. “And how am I supposed to help with that?”

“FUCK ME!”

Jorahn’s eyebrows shot up at the bellowed command.

“Somebody! Anybody! Please!! I know you’re out there!” The voice grew increasingly desperate and demanding as it filled the room. “Shove your cock in me! Destroy my insides! Choke me with your cum! Just… please! Make it stop hurting!”

“He was not like this before,” Brother Yosef said with a defeated sigh. “He is very devoted to his studies, and to the church. He would never even think such things, let alone speak in such a crude manner.”

“He is going to taint us all!”

“Brother Rashid, please!” Brother Yosef took a breath. “Brother Rashid, Brother Baj, please give us the room.”

Jorahn glanced back to find the Questioner nodding, one foot already in the hallway. Brother Rashid glared at Brother Yosef for a moment. Then, after shooting a nasty look towards the screens, then at Jorahn, Brother Rashid followed Brother Baj out of the room.

“Please! You! I can smell your perfume! Do you have a big cock! Please come fuck me with it!”

“This is…” Jorahn cleared his throat. It wasn’t that he wasn’t used to such language. But to hear it in a place like this, under the saddened gaze of Brother Yosef, was a bit discomforting. Especially knowing that the words were coming from another man of the cloth. Jorahn tried again, doing his best to keep a calm expression on his face. “Do you really think my… services will actually help him? From what you’ve said, he’s clearly not in his right mind, and I don’t want to be blamed for this when he does come back to his senses.”

“We have considered that,” Brother Yosef said, nodding. “But we have tried everything that we can think of to help assuage him. Nothing has worked. He only screams for… Well, you heard him.”

Jorahn took a deep breath and stepped up to the folding screens. Through the space between them, he spotted the rest of the bed, and Marwan. He clenched his jaw at the sight, old memories punching to the surface of his mind.

Marwan writhed across the thin straw mattress, his arms and legs bound and anchored to the posts of the bed with thick ropes. His pale skin flared an angry red where the ropes bit and burned into him, creating a stark contrast with the rest of the pale skin that shone across his nearly naked body. A torn robe clung to him, ripped at the waist and crotch to reveal his painfully erect cock. A full head of mousy brown hair clung to his sweat-drenched face, which was half-covered by a strip of cloth that had been fastened over his eyes.

“It is unkind,” Brother Yosef said from Jorahn’s side. “But it was the only way we could keep him from hurting himself – and others.”

Jorahn gritted his teeth. “Where’s the oil?”

“I’m sorry?”

Jorahn scoffed. “Let’s not pretend you don’t know what I mean.”

Brother Yosef had the decency to look embarrassed as he stepped away. Returning a few moments later, he handed Jorahn a small jug. “I assume Brother Zahir discussed payment with you?”

Jorahn took the jar, his gaze swinging back to Marwan. “I don’t need payment. It’s my day off.”

Brother Yosef gaped at him. “But you are a prostitute, correct?”

“What, you think I only have sex for money?” Jorahn glared at the man. “Can I not enjoy it in my free time if I get paid for it?”

“I did not mean to offend you.” Brother Yosef gave a slight bow. “I only mean that, we believe that it will take quite a bit of… stamina to appease Marwan in this state.”

Jorahn frowned at the man. “And you know this how?”

Brother Yosef took a deep breath, averting his gaze. “While it was not in our lifetime, there is record of something like this happening before. And in the records, it states that the… treatment lasted three days and nights.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Jorahn turned to face Brother Yosef fully. “You want me to fuck him for three days?”

“Please! Language.”

“I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about your sensitive ears, Brother,” Jorahn gripped the jug of oil tightly, cursing his sudden streak of altruism. “That would be enough to pay off my contract and then some.”

Another feral growl erupted from within the screens. “How long are you going to keep talking before you come and FUCK ME?!”

Jorahn glanced at the screen, then looked at Brother Yosef. “Well, then… I take it you don’t want to be in the room when it happens.”

Brother Yosef cleared his throat and stepped backwards towards the door. “We will prepare food for you, should you… have time to eat. Otherwise, I will come to check on you in three days’ time.”

“Yes, yes.” Jorahn barely heard the door close as he pulled one of the screens aside. Stepping towards the bed, he surveyed Marwan’s body again. On closer inspection, the man was nearly too skinny for his taste, the ridges of his ribs and hips poking through his skin. Jorahn toed off his boots and climbed onto the bed, coming to kneel between the man’s spread legs. “Hello, Marwan.”

Marwarn’s back bowed against the bed as he dug his heels in and shoved his crotch into the air. “Please! I can’t take it anymore!”

“You won’t even ask my name?” Jorahn chuckled and pulled the stopper from the jug. “My customers are usually much more polite. Or at least they pretend to be.”

“Fuck my filthy hole!”

Jorahn eyed the orifice in question as Marwan shoved his ass towards him. Marwan’s hole twitched, his balls tight beneath his throbbing cock. Jorahn dipped his fingers into the oil jug. “What, no ‘please’ this time?”

“Please!” Marwan slammed his head against the pillow, the movement flinging precum from his dick onto his bared stomach. “Rip me apart! Shove your big, hard cock in me and fuck me bloody! Please!”

“Not yet,” Jorahn said, a grin spreading across his face. Before Marwan could protest, Jorahn grabbed the man’s bucking hips with one hand and slid his oil-slicked fingers into Marwan’s greedy hole. As he worked the oil along Marwan’s walls, Jorahn pushed his thoughts within. With a mental push, the tattoo along the back of his right leg pulled away from his skin, itching as his tail unfurled and transformed from ink to flesh. He flexed and curled it, sighed at the sensation of blood rushing back into the appendage. He directed it towards Marwan’s head, using the tip to nudge the makeshift blindfold from over Marwan’s eyes. “You still don’t know my name.”

Marwan blinked against the light, moaning as Jorahn stretched his hole. Looking down his body, he froze as he caught sight of the face grinning back at him. “Jorahn?”

“Ah. So you do know me.” Jorahn willed the rest of his body to take on its natural form. The skin at his forehead ripped, giving way to horns that twisted and curled towards the back of his head. His gums itched as his canines grew, the tips hanging over his bottom lip. He blinked as his vision improved, his normal eyes much more capable than the ones he was forced to use in human form. “This makes things a lot easier.”