Chapter 172 One night, 5 men 5

Chapter 172 One night, 5 men 5
Dawn bled through the high windows of the chapel, rose and gold slicing across the marble altar like judgment made visible. The monastery bells began to toll for Prime, slow and relentless, but no one moved toward the stalls. The brothers stood in a loose circle around the sanctuary instead, habits already discarded, cocks rising in the cool air like a silent hymn.

Elias was already on the altar.

They had come for him before the sky lightened. Luca first, unlocking the cell with a key that scraped like bone. Then the others, shadows behind him. No words. They simply lifted him from the cot, naked and sleep-warm, and carried him down the corridors while the bells began their warning.

Now he lay on his back across cold stone, wrists and ankles bound to the four brass candlesticks with crimson altar cloths. The marble was slick beneath him with oil and the remnants of last night’s loads still seeping from his body. His hole had not closed in days; it gaped, red and glistening, fluttering each time the bells rang.

Luca stood at the foot of the altar, fully robed in blood-red vestments he had never worn for Mass. In his hands he held not a chalice but a small crystal vial of chrism, thick and fragrant.

“Today you receive absolution,” he said, voice carrying to the vaulted ceiling. “Not from sin. From choice.”

He tipped the vial. Holy oil poured in a golden stream across Elias’s chest, running over nipples, pooling in his navel, dripping down to coat his cock and balls. The scent of myrrh and olives filled the air.

Matteo stepped forward first, naked, tattoos livid in the dawn light. He climbed onto the altar and straddled Elias’s chest, thick cock already leaking. Without ceremony he pushed into Elias’s mouth, groaning as heat enveloped him. Elias took him eagerly, throat relaxed from days of training, swallowing until his nose pressed into the coarse hair at Matteo’s base.

Behind him, Silas moved between Elias’s spread legs. The giant said nothing; he never did. He simply slicked his monstrous cock with more oil and drove in with one brutal thrust. Elias’s scream was muffled around Matteo’s shaft, body arching off the stone as Silas bottomed out, balls pressed tight against him.

The twins took position on either side. Rafael wrapped a hand around Elias’s neglected cock and began a slow, torturous stroke. Ramon leaned in and licked a stripe up Elias’s oil-slick chest, then bit down on a nipple hard enough to draw blood.

Luca watched, eyes glittering, then climbed up last. He knelt above Elias’s head, pushed Matteo aside just long enough to feed his own cock alongside, stretching Elias’s mouth impossibly wide around two shafts. Matteo growled but made room, and soon both men were fucking Elias’s throat in alternating thrusts, saliva and precum dripping down his chin onto the altar.

Silas set a punishing rhythm, each thrust lifting Elias’s hips clear off the marble. The slap of flesh echoed like applause. Every time he pulled back, Elias’s hole gaped obscenely, a river of oil and old spend running down to stain the altar cloth forever.

The twins switched. Rafael moved behind Silas and began to finger Elias’s stretched rim alongside the massive cock already inside, forcing three, then four fingers in beside it. Elias’s eyes rolled back, a continuous whine vibrating around the cocks in his mouth.

Ramon took Elias’s cock into his own mouth now, sucking hard while his twin worked to wreck him further.

Luca came first, pulling out to paint Elias’s face with thick ropes that mixed with the oil and ran into his open, gasping mouth. Matteo followed seconds later, shoving deep and unloading straight down Elias’s throat until he choked and swallowed and choked again.

They did not stop.

Positions shifted like a dark ballet. Silas pulled out and Matteo took his place, slamming into the gaping hole with a roar. Silas moved up and fed his slick, enormous cock into Elias’s mouth, making him taste himself, taste every man who had been inside him this week.

The twins climbed onto the altar together. Rafael lay beneath Elias now, sliding into his ass alongside Matteo in one slick, impossible push. Double penetration, no hesitation. Elias screamed around Silas, body shaking violently as two cocks stretched him wider than should have been survivable.

Ramon straddled Elias’s hips and pushed into the space between belly and balls, fucking the slick channel of Elias’s oiled torso while his brother and Matteo reamed his hole in alternating thrusts.

Luca stood to the side now, stroking himself back to hardness, murmuring Latin under his breath that was no prayer Elias had ever heard.

They rotated for hours.

Silas bred him first, lifting him bodily and impaling him again and again until he flooded Elias’s guts with pulse after pulse, so much it sprayed out around his shaft with every thrust.

Matteo followed, pulling out at the last second to paint Elias’s chest and belly, then shoving back in to mix his load with Silas’s.

The twins took him together, Rafael in his ass, Ramon forcing into the same hole seconds later. Two cocks in one ruined passage, grinding together, using Elias like a sleeve while they kissed each other over his shoulder. They came as one, flooding him until cum poured out in a steady stream, soaking the altar, running in rivers toward the sanctuary step.

Luca saved himself for last.

When the others stepped back, panting, cocks spent and shining, Luca untied Elias’s wrists and ankles. Elias collapsed forward, barely able to hold himself up on trembling arms, body a wreck of bruises, bites, oil, and spend. His hole was a gaping, pulsing ruin; every breath pushed more seed out of him.

Luca turned him gently, almost tenderly, and laid him on his back again. Then he climbed between Elias’s thighs and entered him slowly, reverently, the only gentle fuck of the morning.

Elias wrapped arms and legs around him, clinging, sobbing into his neck as Luca rocked deep and steady.

“Look at me,” Luca whispered.

Elias did. Tears cut channels through the mess on his face.

“You are absolved,” Luca said, and came inside him, one final flooding that pushed Elias over the edge again, cock spurting weakly onto his own belly for the last time.

When Luca withdrew, the altar was awash in white. Elias lay in it, bathed in it, drowning in it. The bells had stopped ringing long ago. Sunlight now blazed full through the windows, illuminating every stain, every bruise, every smiling mouth.

The five men stood around him, spent and magnificent.

Luca traced a cross on Elias’s forehead with a finger dipped in the mess between his legs.

“Go in peace,” he said.

Elias laughed, raw and broken and free.

He would never leave this place.

He would never want to.