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[b][u][center]Heaven Damned 7

Preparations

For DuskCypher

By Draconicon[/center][/u][/b]

The Bishops dragged him along without a word. As Noah was pulled through the end of the colony streets, he could feel the eyes of some few other colonists watching him. They could have stopped this, but why would they? As far as they were concerned, Noah had gotten the blessing of the Bishops, and who would say no to that?

The ginger-furred cat would, but they weren’t giving him that option. They considered this fate ‘glorious’ in their own words, and he didn’t have any way of convincing them to stop. The Eternal Council had already claimed him, and that meant that he wouldn’t be allowed to leave. Not now, not ever.

And yet, he still squirmed between them as they dragged him along, one at each arm and the last one behind him, nudging him forward with one hand on his back. None were close enough to put their dicks near enough to touch him, but he could smell them, the thick scent of sex clinging to all three of them and leaving him feeling like he was walking deeper and deeper into one of the holy orgy rooms at the temple. He gritted his teeth, keeping his head down and trying not to fight too hard, even as his soul begged him to do anything but submit to this capture.

They reached their shuttle. The ship was narrow, more long and pointed than broad and thick, with a down-cast nose and a pair of ramps leading out of either side. The one opposite their side of the ship was being loaded with supplies, while the one that they approached was attached further up the ship, closer to the tip.

“Where are you taking me?” Noah asked as they reached the base of the ramp.

They didn’t answer.

Marched into the ship, the feline took in the details of the craft. It was a long tube more than anything else, with wings that would later extend but were currently retracted into the spacecraft. Inside, the walls were colored blue and gray, and there was nothing of substance that he might have used as an improvised weapon to get away.

Rather than carrying him to the cockpit, they led him to a cell towards the middle of the craft. It was just barely large enough for two people, if they were willing to be face-to-face, groin-to-groin, but even one person wouldn’t have the space to lift and spread their arms. They didn’t shove him in, but did keep pushing at his back until he stepped forward and into the small space.

A field of light sprang up between him and the naked felines. The Bishops were distorted by the multi-colored array of light, shimmering from red to blue to green and many other shades besides. They looked at him without words, without any indication that they saw him at all.

It sent a shiver down his spine. Bishops were seldom talkative; when they had come for him in his house, it was the most that he had ever heard them say in his life. Yet, even that had been strange, as if the sound had come from somewhere else, beamed through them rather than spoken directly. Their silence now only reinforced that feeling, as if something else had spoken through them. Was this…was this his fate, when this was all said and done?

The Bishops turned as one, marching away from his cell. Noah leaned back, resting his hips and spine against the rear of the cell. Not much room there, either; he had less than a pace in any direction, no room to extend anything. The only saving grace was that the walls were soft and the floor was, too, rather than the hard, painful surfaces that the rest of the ship seemed to be made up of.

As he sagged down, eventually curling up in the fetal position, he felt the rumble of the ship’s engines starting up. They were going to depart soon, then. This…this was actually happening.

[i]Mercy…[/i]

He looked toward the ceiling. He imagined looking past that, seeing through it to the great heavens above, to the stars and the worlds beyond, and to the great light that was the promised Heaven of those that followed God. He stared at where he imagined it to be, then closed his eyes.

[i]God…I beg you. I have followed you for years, for all my life. Grant me mercy, please.[/i]

It was a prayer that he would repeat many times over the course of their journey.

#

It was several months later – or so he would eventually be told – when the ship finally began to slow. Noah, fed, watered, and washed by the mechanical functions of the ship, was finally allowed space again. One of the Bishops came to him and opened the light field, and for a moment, the ginger-furred feline was completely blinded to the world. The constant rainbow of light had robbed everything else of its meaning, and without the constant barrage of colors, he felt blinded.

The Bishop pulled him to his feet, carrying him to join the other two at the door. The trio were as silent as they had always been, and even the sound of their footsteps on the metal floor of the ship were almost deafening to someone that had heard nothing but his own breathing for far too long.

On the door itself, a video display played out. It showed the view from the cockpit, giving Noah the chance to see where they were going.

It was a monastery ship, a great blocky thing that was as good as a floating village in terms of size. It was chunky, something too large and ill-shaped to ever function as something that would fly in atmosphere, but in space, with far less resistance, there was far less of an issue of something being shaped strangely.

He felt like he was seeing something impossible as he looked at the great spire in the center of the mobile space station. Aside from all the other curving, curling structures that almost seemed like curved blades cutting the heavens that poked out of the station, the great spire in the middle reached higher and further, almost like a fin cutting through space as the station wandered from one place to another. He could only imagine what sort of things happened there.

The station itself was a deep black, almost invisible save for the way that it cut a silhouette against the stars. He felt like he was staring into the depths of oblivion, or failing that, the depths of the afterlife.

[i]My God, my lord, please, rescue me from this…[/i]

The ship continued its approach, the spacecraft passing under some sort of shield that kept the emptiness of space at bay. They landed in some plaza outside of the great spire, and the ship was finally, for the first time in months, completely silent and still.

For the three seconds before the ramp went down, Noah felt as if he had blinded and deafened. His sense of touch felt as if it had been completely shut off without the hum of the ship around him, and lacking the feeling of the engine running, it was as if everything had just…stopped. He panted hard, his breath coming in rough gasps –

And then the ramp lowered, and the sound of people – real people – filled his ears. There was speech, there was patter, there was the sound of others moving around. It was so much that it was almost too overwhelming in the other direction, but the cat still cried happy tears to know that the world was still there, that he hadn’t just died when the ship arrived.

He couldn’t fight the Bishops as they dragged him down. While they themselves were large, thick-shouldered and muscular compared to him, the others that walked around the plaza of the space station were something different. Not one long-haired cat could be seen, and most of them were more of a slender style, more like him, but taken to a greater extreme, willowy and thin, almost like they were there to emphasize the difference between others and the Bishops themselves.

There were even some sphinx cats, hairless and almost shimmery from the way that their flesh was oiled to replace their fur. It was odd to look at them, uncomfortable, but at the same time, almost like looking at some exotic good that one felt that they had to respect merely for being something so different.

The Bishops walked him toward the spire, making their way across a black floor that was so dark that it felt like walking on space, and so reflective that it was like seeing one’s dead soul following along in one’s wake. One glance down was enough to leave him completely discomforted, and Noah kept his eyes up from then on.

They reached the front door, and one of the sphinx cats opened it. Tall, though not quite so tall as Noah’s six-foot height, the long-eared cat met his eyes with a smile.

“Ah, another candidate?”

“Take him.”

It was the strange, beamed-in voice that he had heard before, enough to send shivers down his spine as the Bishops shoved him into the hairless cat’s arms. He was pulled into the spire without another word, and the doors slammed shut behind him, leaving the station as a whole on the other side.

“Well, it was only a matter of time until they found another candidate,” the sphinx said, chuckling to himself. “Welcome to the Monastery of the Flickering Star, Mr…”

“N-Noah,” he said, shaking his head.

The spire was striking from its very first room. The walls were no longer black, but a strange, crimson red, something that pulsed and throbbed with an almost sensual air. He could feel the heat in the air in a way that almost felt comforting, considering that the inside of the ship had been all but freezing for a great deal of the trip through space. He groaned as he felt sweat starting to stick to the inside of his clothes, and he shook his head.

“What…What is going to happen to me?” he asked.

“The Brother Grimm had chosen you, Noah. That’s an incredible honor. You should be immensely flattered that the Reaper himself has decided that you should be part of his clergy. Particularly…heh, oh, you will need a great deal of work to be completely worthy of him, but I think that we can make that happen. You certainly have the start of it, at least, and – oh, my.”

The sphinx’s hand went down between his legs, and Noah yelped as that furless hand groped him through his pants. He tried to fumble his way backward, but being kept in the cell for so long had led to most of his muscles decaying. He could barely keep his footing, and the sphinx cat chased him back to the door, pinning him against it with a surprisingly strong shoulder as he fondled Noah’s bulge.

“Mmm, yes, that’s quite a bit to be working with.”

“L-let go of me…”

“Oh, I will, I will, soon enough. We have to get you to your training, after all.”

“What – I’m not –”

“You are stressed, aren’t you? You don’t understand. You’ve been so busy worrying about what’s going to happen that you haven’t had a chance to rest in the slightest, have you?”

“No, but –”

“You’ll learn. The place of a Bishop isn’t to think. It – ah, but that will come later. Heh. Come with me. You need some time to relax.”

It was only when the sphinx turned around that he was finally made aware of the fact that the other man was completely naked, and without the fur that the other males had, it was like looking at something that was even more…debauched, that way, even more purely in the camp of overindulgence. It was hard to know what to say, or even what to do, and so, he followed behind the other man.

“Let me start by answering some of the usual questions, hmm?” the hairless cat said. “I am a monk in the service of Brother Grimm, the Reaper of All. Our monastery, the Monastery of the Flickering Star, is a place that celebrates his touch, and how even the great celestial bodies die at his touch. We celebrate it, worship it, and in turn, we are granted the right to worship him in a far more intimate fashion, heh.

“The Bishops bring their candidates here – or to any of the other monastery ships, for that matter – to see to their conditioning and training. Only so many people can become Bishops, after all.”

“What do the Bishops actually do?” Noah managed to ask.

“Well, that depends. Do you mean what they do officially, or do you mean what they do for the Reaper?”

“…Both.”

“Officially, they channel the faith of the universe into the Reaper, giving him all the worship that he is due as the great and powerful bringer of death to the universe. Unofficially? They give him what he wants. All the time.”

“…”

“Mmm, and such lovely eye-candy. All those muscular cats, showing off everything that they have…Ah, to be so filled with pleasure as they are,” the sphinx said with such honest desire that it left Noah with a turned stomach.

As they walked through the monastery ship, he could hear the moans of others in the distant rooms. Not one female voice could be heard, and he started to wonder if the females were even allowed into the worship of Brother Grimm. The more that he thought about it, the more that he realized that he had never seen a female in the worship services, nor in the Bishop ranks. They were exclusively male, and –

“You’re going to make the Reaper very happy with what you have between your legs,” the sphinx said. “He has always had a preference for the larger men. We can build your muscles, but oh, that would have been a pain to get the right size.”

“I’m not…”

“What, you haven’t been with other men before?” The monk chuckled. “It’s easy to learn. And besides, soon enough, you won’t be thinking too hard about that.”

As they passed from the front room to a grand corridor, the sphinx continued to walk with purpose and surprising speed, and Noah had to push himself to keep up. With his shoes and jacket left at the colony, he kept expecting to feel chilled on the space station, but if anything, the whole place seemed warmer than it should have been, as if someone had turned up the heating and left it there. It wasn’t bad, but it was strange, and he wasn’t sure how to adjust.

The rooms that they passed were less rooms of worship or rest, and more rooms of pleasure and relaxation. The first few weren’t so bad; he saw monks that were massaging each other, resting someone in a bath and easing the tension from shoulders and arms, or lying on a table while they were taken care of by another member of the order. The pulsing red light made it more ominous than he would have liked, but it wasn’t [i]bad[/i].

But the further they went, the stranger it became, until he saw one room with a cat leaning back against a padded table while two monks teased an erection nearly the size of his own. His eyes almost bugged out of their sockets as he stopped and stared, his mouth hanging open.

“Something the matter, Noah?”

“What…why…”

“Oh, it’s just one more way to relax.”

“I can’t…I don’t believe…”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. We need to help you relax and stop thinking, or you’ll never get over this hang-up of yours.”

The sphinx took him by the hand before he could try and explain, dragging him to one of the empty rooms. Other naked monks were waiting, though they were thankfully soft compared to the throbbing hard-ons that he had become all too used to seeing. He bit his lips as he was shoved into a chair, his back dragged back against the plush back of it, and the sphinx stood behind him, rubbing his fingers against the ginger cat’s temples.

“Just relax. The more that you think about everything, the harder it gets, right?”

“But I can’t stop. This isn’t me. I don’t want to be here.”

“And thinking is part of the not wanting, isn’t it?” The sphinx chuckled. “Just relax. Let us take care of you. Let us wash all those bad thoughts out of your head, and then you don’t have to worry about it.”

“I’m not – I don’t worship the Reaper,” he said, half-hoping that would get him some understanding.

“We [i]all[/i] worship Brother Grimm, Noah. It’s just a question of whether we pray to him, or whether we wait for him to take us, but we all worship him. Now…relax.”

The sphinx’s fingers pressed firmly to his scalp, and something in that touch did relax him. Noah groaned, trying to hold onto his fear, but each circling motion pulled more and more of that fear, that tension, that outright terror from him as the cat’s fingers worked from the front of his head to the sides, and then the back. Forward, side, back. Forward, side, back. Each little spiral, each little touch, was enough to melt some of the worries and the tension that he had built up for months, and…

And it was a good feeling. He started to sag against the chair, only to jerk slightly as he felt other fingers on him. One hand on each leg, one on each arm. He opened his eyes to see more cats – two short-haired gray cats, two more sphinxes – working him over, but before he could say anything, the head-massager just whispered in his ears again.

“Relax.”

It was quickly becoming clear that he didn’t have a choice. They were touching him, working him over in a way that he had never been touched before, and despite not wanting to like it, some part of him did. He was slumping back more and more as they pressed into tense areas that he didn’t even know he had, thumbs digging into muscle spasms that were ongoing to the point of having been forgotten. Some pressure found points of pain that left him whimpering for a moment before they were finally worked away, leaving him a puddle of pleasure.

Pleasure, of course, had a way of showing itself between his legs. Before he knew it, he was starting to pitch a tent in his pants, and that tent was getting stiffer and harder the more that the rest of him was forced to relax. He did his best not to think about it, but the more that he tried not to think about the throbbing erection between his legs, the harder it was to keep it from taking up all his thoughts and attention. He tried to look away, but –

Wordlessly, the other cats were already dealing with it. The ones massaging his feet and legs, their digits between his toes and gently stretching them, amped up their work. They rubbed the backs of his calves, firmly keeping his attention on their strong hands while lighter fingers undid the buttons of his shirt, pulling it open and exposing his chest.

When did his shirt come off? He wasn’t sure, but they did it so skillfully, so easily, that he was almost wondering if he had worn a shirt to begin with. And then…then they were rubbing his chest, grinding their fingers into his pecs. The muscles of his chest were so worn down from captivity that he was almost too slender, almost malnourished, but they were still groping him, rubbing him, squeezing him in a way that both relaxed him and…and felt almost admiring, making his cock throb all the harder between his legs.

His shame spiked for a second as they eased him out of his pants and underwear, his shaft laying over one leg as he was left completely naked in the massage chair. The other cats were all but draping themselves over him, massaging, teasing, rubbing, encouraging him to stay nice and relaxed, nice and…and aroused, and he whimpered as he forced himself to open one eye and look back.

“I don’t…I’m not…gay…”

“You don’t have to be gay. All you have to do is worship…the pleasure of the Reaper is all that you need to focus on.”

“But…but…”

“The pleasure is all that you need to focus on. No Bishop thinks anymore. No Bishop needs to. They are nothing but a channel for the faith of the universe, all sent to Brother Grimm. They carry the faith, the pleasure, and the adoration of the universe to he who Reaps.”

Noah wanted to do something, anything to challenge that. He had been a follower of the one true God for so long, had studied the little bits of scripture that still existed in the universe and – more than that – had carried the teachings of God’s daughter in his heart for the entirety of his service to her. He knew the teachings of the Lord inside and out, and he should have been able to fight back…

But nothing came to him.

Nothing but discomfort amidst the relaxation, nothing but shame among the pleasure. He shivered as the cats at his feet worked up his legs, already massaging his thighs with gentle hands, nudging his cock this way and that, making him more and more aware of the sheer pleasure that they could give him, what they would give him, and how there was literally nothing that he could do to stop it.

He wasn’t sure that he wanted to stop it. Not anymore.

One hand on either side of his shaft rubbed at his pelvic muscles, and another hand on either side had snuck around to his hips, his rump. There were hands everywhere, massaging his head, his chest, his back – how had so many cats fit around him at once? He wasn’t thinking, his world was fading, and it was impossible to keep a coherent thought about the way that the world was supposed to be around him.

He fell.

He drifted.

He slumped.

There were moments of awareness through the pleasure. He felt himself being carried, then he felt himself being laid down. He felt the walking pressure of someone on his spine, and then he felt water around him, warm and gentle. He felt so much, but he thought so little.

Yet, among those thoughts were images of God’s daughter. She loomed in his mind, reminding him of what he had served, and he held to thoughts of her, her divine sex, and the smiles that she had offered him.

“It’s time for you to get a taste of the true pleasure of Bishop-hood,” the sphinx said, dragging him back to reality.

He blinked as he opened his eyes. He was no longer on a chair, or a table, or anything. Instead, he stood in the middle of a room, his arms pulled up to the ceiling, chained in place. For the first time, he was aware of a wetness between his cheeks, his tail pulled up to keep them exposed, and his cock…

Oh, his cock ached, he realized, ached with a need and want that was as familiar to him as his own name. He could feel the need that surged through it, knew it for the same pleasurable desire that he felt when he was between the tiger’s thighs. He remembered what it had felt like to serve her, but to know that he felt it now, in her absence, sent shame through him.

The sphinx stood off to the side, and two muscular Bishops stepped in. Their fur was dark, one almost black, the other a deep gray as they walked toward him. Their blank-faced masks were featureless, reminding him of the emptiness of their ‘voice’ back at the colony, but their cocks were hard. Hard and solid and dripping, oozing to the floor and leaving trails of their need behind.

[i]Unholy,[/i] he thought, but that didn’t stop his cock from twitching.

The gray one stood in front of him, the near-black one behind him. For the first time in his life, he felt a male’s ass grinding back against his cock, and he felt a dick between his cheeks, grinding right up to his lubricated asshole. His breath caught in his throat as his cock all but jumped from the stimulation, begging for more, more, more.

“Please…please, I can’t – Nnngh!”

It was wet, warm, and altogether too welcoming as the gray cat pushed back. The feeling of an asshole swallowing his cock was like nothing that he had experienced before, tight at the entrance but warm and velvet-like on the inside, pulling him deeper and deeper as the cat pushed back further and further. Noah clenched his hands into fists as he felt the sheer pleasure spike from the slow penetration, fighting to keep from betraying his own faith as he felt his body being used.

And then, the other male pushed upward. It wasn’t quite a penetration, not immediately, but he felt the threat of it, the heat and stiffness of a cock right against his pucker. His breath caught in his throat, but there was…there was no pain, no sudden ache that made him hate it. The ginger cat shook his head, trying to collect himself –

“Nnngh!”

And then the next thrust, and it was inside of him. He could feel the invasion of flesh and heat, the way that it rubbed against his prostate, and –

“Ah…ah…ah…”

The Bishops moved in sync with each other, almost more like machines than flesh and blood, and they were perfectly timed to draw deep moans of pleasure from him again, and again, and again. Each time that he sunk down to the base in the male before him, the one behind was dragging his cock back, the bulge of the head rubbing right against his prostate before pushing in again, constantly grinding down on him and giving a pleasure that he never would have felt with a female.

It wracked his mind. His soul told him that it was wrong, that this was against what God taught, but at the same time, there was no denying that his cock was harder than it had been in months. He hadn’t had the chance to commune with God or the daughter of the most holy for so long, and now –

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

They kept him pinned between them, their hard muscles against his back and his hips. That rounded rump didn’t jiggle, but it did quake every time that he bottomed out, a firm shake before going still once more. The shaft inside of him was hot and wet, oozing through his insides, filling him to the brim and reminding him of what he could have if he just gave in.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

Noah wailed in pleasure, whimpered in need, and closed his eyes as tightly as he dared as he felt the world collapsing around him. His cock ached with need, and the heat of pleasure was already rising through him. It was familiar, beyond familiar from the times that he had lost his willpower to hold back and pleasured himself after leaving his wife. Oh, God, he was on the verge already, and –

“Ah…ah…”

Thrust. Grind. Thrust. Grind. The constant mechanical motions of the Bishops were driving him mad. The warm, sensual grip of that hole around his shaft dragged him forward, only for the cock in his ass to grind him right into that rump so close that it felt like they were becoming one person. Then out, all the way out, right to the tip, and he could feel the sensual, fleshy hug of that hole around his tip, teasing him, encouraging him, pushing him to the point of near-orgasm right then and there before he was driven into the depths once more.

In. Out. In. Out.

It was so mechanical that it never should have had the same pleasurable passion that he had with the tiger in his chambers, but it did. His pleasure climbed, his balls churned, his eyes rolled back in his head…

And he didn’t go over the edge.

“Nnngh…why…why…”

“Feeling the change?” the sphinx asked.

“What…why…I don’t want to, but –”

“Bishops never cum,” the monk said with a smile. “They are kept in a state of perpetual pleasure, never sliding from their worship and bliss. Nothing stops them from being the ultimate servant and channel of worship for the Reaper, because they do not think, they do not feel relief. All they feel is the need for more…evermore, in perpetuity. Oh, how I desire it…”

[i]No…no, how could anyone…[/i]

Smack.

Smack.

Smack.

The constant slide of pleasure and pressure against him, flesh and fur, warmth and throbbing stiffness, was already stealing his thoughts away as effectively as the massage had. His cock was little more than a dildo for the cat before him, and his ass was nothing but a hole for the one behind him. They used him as efficiently as any machine could, and Noah screamed to the heavens as he was pushed, trained, and broken in.

#

Hours later, he was brought to bed. The ginger cat stared at the ceiling for no less than an hour, waiting for his body to calm down and give him some clarity to approach the situation. His heart raced and his cock stayed hard for the entirety of the hour, and only when he was starting to go soft was he able to feel like he was clear-headed enough to know how wrong it all was.

[i]I shouldn’t have done that…I shouldn’t have let them do that to me.[/i]

Noah groaned as he rolled onto his side. It took nearly all his energy just to do that after being trained and pushed as hard as he had. The monks had promised that he’d be pushed through more as they journeyed towards the Reaper’s planet. They would train his body, pushing him to get more muscles, to become as thick and strong as the other big cats that were already Bishops. They would make him be as powerful, as manly, as sexual as they were, and his cock would eventually be in the same state that theirs were.

And when he reached the proper point of thoughtless bliss, of perpetual need, they would put the mask on him.

A shiver of fear ran down his spine as he imagined that. The idea of being voiceless, of being blind, deaf, and dumb, nothing more than a doll that felt the urge for relief that it would never get, and the need to serve someone that would never appreciate him properly, made him want to weep. He would have screamed to the heavens and begged for relief if he had been on one of the planets of the Empire that allowed it, but here he was, on a monastery ship, cut off from all the pure things in life.

Noah used most of what little energy he had left to roll out of bed, hitting the ground and grunting from the impact. He rolled onto his knees, leaning against the edge of his bed, and folded his hands as he had done so long ago. As he lowered his head, he thought of her, and of God, and he prayed.

“Lord, I don’t know what your plan is for me. I have devoted myself completely to you. Again, and again, I have given myself to your plan, going from planet to planet. You owe me nothing, but I have been a good servant. Please, whatever your plan is, let me face it with the strength you require of me, and give me mercy should I fail. Please, if I cannot succeed, merely grant me mercy…”

He lowered his head to the edge of the bed, barely conscious, and yet, at the same time, he could feel his shaft throbbing to life once more. The lack of relief made his body want things that he was incapable of giving it. It wanted him to give in, to touch, to tease, to do something that would at least fool his body into allowing him to feel pleasure.

He refused.

As Noah tried to drag himself back into bed, his body gave out. He flopped onto the ground, lacking the strength to climb back into bed. The ginger cat sighed, closing his eyes and staring at the insides of his eyelids. For as long as he could, he would hold to his faith, and if he could do that, then…

Then something would work out. He wasn’t sure what, he wasn’t sure how, but [i]something[/i] would work out in the end.

He just…he just had to be strong.

He had to be faithful.

He could do that.

[b][u][center]The End[/center][/u][/b]

Summary: Noah is brought to a monastery station, and he begins his training and conditioning to become a Bishop of Brother Grimm.

Tags: M/M, M/M/M, Cat, Feline, Space, Sci-Fi, Space Religion, Reaper, Series, Devotion, Anal, Massage, Bondage, Training, Thoughtless, No Orgasm,