semen

Father Ostertag approached me after class one Friday afternoon as I was making my way out of class.



“I have a proposition for you,” he said.



I felt somewhat nervous. My grades had been rather poor this semester and I was afraid that he was going to suggest summer school or something.



“I can’t help but notice the special attributes that you have been exhibiting over the last semester,” he said, “and I feel that you may be interested in an exclusive program that we offer to students of your caliber.”



My stomach rose. I had just had a talking to from my parents after my last report card about my cavalier approach to my studies. Perhaps this could assuage my parents worries.



“Okay,” I said.



“Good,” the father said. He reached out and shook my hand.



I smiled shyly as I listened to his instructions concerning where and when the first meeting would be.



“I trust you know Tim,” Father Ostertag said on the first day of our new meeting.



“Yes,” I said.



I was quite excited. Tim was a senior and he was very cool. He had befriended me in study hall and I loved listening to him when he would talk about philosophy and theology.



“It’s good to see you,” Tim said as he reached for my hand.



“You too,” I said. ” I didn’t realize that you were a part of this group.”



He smiled. He had the coolest bangs. They hung down in front of his face and came down to his smile.



“I think it may be best for Tim to explain things to you,” Father Ostertag said as he made his way to an easy chair in the corner of the room.



Tim nodded.



“When I was a freshman,” he said, “I joined this very same club.”



I nodded in acknowledgment.



“I found it sort of scary at first,” he said, “because it at first seemed to go against everything that the church had taught me about sexuality and ethics.”



At the mention of sexuality I found my stomach rise once more. But I tried my best not to betray it.



“I am going to ask you out of respect, but I highly doubt you will know what I am talking about.”



“Okay,” I said.



“have you ever heard of Dumuzi?”



“No.” I said.



Dumuzi was in love with a woman named Inanna. She said to him, “Make your milk sweet and thick, my bridegroom; my shepherd, I will drink your fresh milk. Wild bull, Dumuzi, make your milk sweet and thick. I will drink your fresh milk.”



I nodded.



“This is a group dedicated to the study of the mystical properties of semen,” he continued, “it is believed in some circles that semen helps to pass on certain masculine attributes from the mentor to the acolyte.”



I didn’t know what to say.



“When I was a freshman I was initiated into this club, as I hope you will be. My mentor, whose identity I cannot disclose, had also gone through the process and was a better man for it. I am a better man for having gone through it,” he reached over to me and placed his hand on my shoulder, “during our talks in study hall I have noticed that you are unlike most boys your age. You remind me of myself.”



“Really?”



He nodded.



“When Tim achieved his status as a senior and I asked him,” Father Ostertag piped in from the corner, “who his ideal acolyte would be he mentioned your name.”



I didn’t know what to say.



“I am asking you,” Tim said, taking his hand in mine, “if you will be my acolyte. I will pass on everything I have learned about philosophy and theology. About what it means to be a man, if you join me you will enter an elite group that will take care of you for the rest of your life.”



“That would be wonderful,” I said. I felt nervous, as though I should consult my parents first. I voiced this concern aloud.



“That is one thing you mustn’t do,” Tim said.



I frowned,



“you need to trust me,” he said, “this cannot leave this room. You and I, and Father Ostertag, will be the only ones who know about our covenant.”



I nodded, though I still felt apprehensive.



“What do I need to do?’ I asked.



Tim said nothing. Instead, he ran his hands slowly down the part in his robe and exposed his naked torso to me.



I followed his body from his bright smile, down to his neck, his chest and stomach and finally his flaccid penis. I was surprised by the size of it, even as it hung limp it seemed bigger than mine was when erect. I felt suddenly horrified at the implication of his act.



“If you have any doubts,” Father Ostertag said from the corner, “now is the time to voice them.”



I didn’t know what to say.



Both Tim and the father waited a moment and finally father Ostertag said, “good, if you have made your decision now is the time to consecrate the covenant. I will give you boys some privacy.”



I looked at Tim and he smiled reassuringly.



“It’s okay,” he said, “I will walk you through it.



“Okay,” I said.



He took me by the hands and led me to the chair that had been occupied by father Ostertag. He knelt down in front of it and let his robe fall around his body.



“Get down on your hands and knees,” he said.



I did so.



He grabbed his penis and began lightly stroking it with one hand. With the other he took my hand and placed it on his testicles.



“Put my cock in your mouth,” he said finally, after it had awakened into a half erection.



I was hesitant but I looked up into his eyes and his smile was so reassuring that I did as he asked. I was surprised to find that his felt so natural inside of my mouth. He smiled broadly and rubbed my shoulders.



“Now take it into your mouth as far as you can,” he said.



I close my eyes and did so. I immediately began to gag.



“It’s okay,” he said, “I had the same reaction at first, but all you need do is breathe through your nose.”



I looked up at him and nodded, the tip of his erect cock still between my lips.



“You have masturbated,” he asked.



I nodded.



“This will be much like that,” he said, “imagine that your mouth is the hand on your cock. You will go back and forth until I ejaculate.”



I nodded, trying not to let his cock escape from my mouth.



As I did so I felt my cock grow hard and my asshole begin to tingle.



“When I ejaculate you have to ingest it all,” he said, “and it is going to be a lot. Part of the ceremony is that I have not had a release in over a month. Do you think you will be able to swallow it all?”



I nodded as I could feel his cock throb inside my mouth.



“Good,” he said, “let us begin.”



I closed my eyes and slid my mouth down along his erect cock, trying my best not to gag. He grabbed me by the back of my head and glided deep into my throat. I thought that I was going to gag but he told me to breath in through my nose.



I did so and the gag reflex subsided.



I began sucking his cock, trying to take it deeper into my mouth with each motion. He moaned and I could feel him driving his cock deeper and deeper into my mouth as a vague salty taste began to hint at the back of my tongue.



Before long we seemed to fall into perfect synch. I was sucking as he was pressing harder and harder into my mouth.



“This… is.. the… important…. part,” he gasped, “you… mustn’t…. spill… a…. droooooooppppppp.”



My mouth was suddenly filled with his semen. His cock pulsed over and over again, pumping the semen into my mouth. I tried to join his rhythm and drink down the hot cum with each pulse of his cock. I was successful for the most part and did my best to not spill a single drop.



When he was finished he fell back onto the floor and spasm-ed dramatically.



I had a mouthful of semen and felt a sudden urge to spit it out but swallowed it as fast as I could, not wanting to jeopardize my new position in this group. My asshole, all the while, was tingling and I felt an overwhelming desire to rub it with my fingers. My cock, on the other hand, was almost numb, as though it had grown so excited, waiting for release, and then dropped out of mind in exhaustion.



As I looked down at Tim on the floor in front of me, his cock growing flaccid, my only wish was that he would flip me over and fuck my ass. But I knew that this would not happen. This was a ritual concerning the oral ingestion of semen only, this was religious, this was not to be confused with base desires like sex.



When Father Ostertag re-entered the room he looked down at Tim and smiled broadly.



“You have done well,” he said to me, “you are going to make a fine acolyte.”



“Thank you father,” I said.



“I knew you were to be my acolyte,” Tim said, trying to fight sleep. “I knew it the first day we met.”

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