|| Dust to Dust || || a Tex x Vernon one shot ||
summary: After moving to Father Vernon’s ranch, Tex Watson quickly becomes his right-hand man, and a little something more. But when Tex starts to doubt the good Father’s leadership, he’s given a hard lesson he’ll never forget.
pairing: Vernon Jefferson Peak x Tex Watson
disclaimer: I’m not an experienced writer. I just give it a go sometimes.
word count: 3.7k
cw: power dynamics, non-con/dub-con, manipulation, humiliation, forced submission, exhibitionism.
A dynamic duo.
That was what people called them.
Vernon Jefferson Peak - founder and leader of The Unknown Children, ran a humble, communal ranch deep in the secluded desert of New Mexico, created to be a safe haven and place of belonging for those who felt outcast from society and could find neither. Generally considered to be a benevolent, passionate figure, he gave all who listened to him a sense of worth that inspired instant and genuine devotion. But as his number of followers and loyal residents increased, Father Vernon needed a second-in-command.
Tex Watson was perfect.
Tex was fiercely loyal, vigilant, and always prepared to follow orders. Everything Father Vernon could have hoped for in a right-hand man was already here within his flock in the form of a young, fervently devoted Texan. He was pivotal in keeping the ranch running in tight (yet still peace-loving) formation, and in keeping everyone’s course on track. Any fights or disruptions that broke out, Tex would jump in with his swift intensity that made residents remember themselves and fall back in line. He was the enforcer, springing into action whenever he received the cue from Father Vernon. Tex would peer over at him, standing by at the ready, and - at a mere pointed glance or flick of the wrist from Vernon - he would take off, charging in like a bulldog.
Tex had been drawn to Father Vernon because he felt that this spiritual man saw him in a way that no one else ever had. The good Father’s gospel was centered around a person’s pain, and with everything Tex had been through in his life - he certainly felt pain. There were even days when he had felt nothing but pain. Father Vernon preached that pain was not a coincidence, and that pain could not, and should not, ever be ignored or suppressed. He taught that you had to face it head-on, look it straight in the eye, and fully embrace it if you ever wanted to heal. It was the complete reverse of the rhetoric Tex had been pressured to live by his whole life. For years, he had tried to cover up everything that hurt him and forget about it, but his pain always managed to burst through, demanding to be felt - just like Father Vernon said. Vernon’s words were like a refreshing balm of validation and true understanding. The more the good Father spoke, the closer Tex felt connected to him. That man quickly became his one real source of comfort and release. Anytime he laid eyes on Vernon or had the chance to hear him speak, his pain faded away, and his devotion grew. It grew to the point where it was all he knew, and became the very force that drove him. There wasn’t anything Tex wouldn’t do for Father Vernon. He trusted him completely, and was willing to give Vernon his whole mind, body, and soul, as long as it was an offering deemed worthy enough - and Father Vernon always assured him that it was.
It started out with smaller acts of service. Tex would fetch things the good Father needed, or take over a menial task that was keeping him from his more important work. Always rising to the occasion, his sharp, cutting eyes shooting daggers at anyone else who tried to offer their assistance instead of him. Often, after he had completed whatever the task was, Vernon would cup his face and stroke his cheek with his thumb as he thanked him, and Tex felt as though he had been personally blessed by the sun. He lived for those brief moments of attention Vernon gave him, and it was what got him out of bed every morning. Tex was ready and eager to prove himself, seizing every opportunity he could to show his devotion.
As Tex’s place by the Father’s side became more secure and accepted, his area of responsibility extended to include Vernon’s more… intimate needs.
Tex wasn’t sure when his feelings toward Father Vernon grew from a general place of awe and devotion into something akin to actual romantic love. That was something he had never considered himself capable of, or to be of any importance in his life - but it wasn’t long before his craving for Vernon’s touch became constant and unbearable - bordering on insatiable.
He would always remember that first night Vernon invited him up into his room. Father Vernon never invited anyone up into his room, despite the fact that plenty of women, and even a few men, had indicated their interest. But that night, Vernon had summoned him.
Tex made his way up the stairs slowly, devoutly, as if each step was a rung in the ladder that led up to heaven. Vernon opened the door and greeted him, gesturing for him to come inside. Tex obeyed, and was instantly overwhelmed upon seeing so many of Vernon’s personal things inside the room, hidden away in this private sanctuary from outside eyes… The weight of being granted such an honor felt heavy enough to crush him. Vernon watched Tex for a moment as he drank it all in. Then, taking Tex’s face in both his hands, he praised him for all his good work, and kissed him gently on the lips. Tex’s heart felt like it had stopped, and a sharp twitch of electricity ran through his body. When Vernon pulled back, and they both stood there, silently staring into each other’s eyes, Tex desperately wanted Vernon to kiss him again.
And then he did.
Oh, how he did.
Ever since then, after everyone else in the house had retired to their rooms and gone to bed, Tex would make his nightly pilgrimage up the stairs to Vernon’s bedroom, his heart hammering in his chest the entire way. He would knock on the door, waiting in expectation for Vernon’s answer on whether or not he would be granted access. By day, Father Vernon’s sermons released Tex’s pain gently, like an exhalation. But by night, through their physical grappling - it was purged violently, like a torrent. It was more exhilarating and addicting than any drug he had ever sampled in his lifetime. When he was received inside, it was bliss. When he was sent away, it was agony. Sometimes, on the nights he was denied entry, he would relieve his own pent-up need, but it always felt like blasphemy to spill his seed without either having Vernon or his permission. He would always think of Vernon, repenting, as he worked to satisfy himself - he would think of his beautiful lips curving into that smirk of approval, and the special glint in his eye that would fluctuate between soft affection and lustful desire as he peered down at Tex, locks of his hair falling in front his chiseled face and framing it just right…
Over time, Tex disciplined himself not to indulge his weak flesh, because it seemed like Vernon always knew when he had given in the night before. As if he was ever-present and all-knowing. Tex was constantly chastising himself. He needed to have self-control to be a good partner in tending to Father Vernon’s flock.
Vernon loved fucking Tex.
Tex absolutely worshipped him, and he was so eager to please. He could see how hard Tex was yearning for him every day, yet he never initiated physical contact first - he would always wait on Vernon’s signal. Vernon found him to be the most beautiful and pliant partner he had ever had.
He remembered the day he first met Tex. He showed up at the ranch, desiring a place in their special community, like so many others did before him. And (also like so many others before him) he had the pure, devoted look in his eyes of someone meeting their idol… but something was different with him. Vernon had felt something stir deep inside him the second their eyes met. Was it attraction? Lust? He wasn’t sure. But right then and there, Tex had captured his attention, and it wasn’t long before he became Vernon’s favorite.
Vernon was feeling slightly jittery in his room tonight. His mind kept wandering back over to Tex - his wide reverent eyes gazing up at him, those velvety soft lips that were nothing compared to the inside of his mouth… Vernon felt hard just thinking about it. Thinking of how beautiful Tex looked, with the way his face screwed up as he gave himself in to ecstasy, while Vernon raked his teeth down the younger man’s neck and plastered him all over with hungry kisses as he thrust up inside of him - their long hair becoming a tangled mess, clinging to their sweaty foreheads as they both chased their earthly release together…
Vernon almost regretted dismissing him tonight - but their fuck sessions were always hotter when he made Tex wait for a night or two. As long as Tex didn’t give in to his desires and take care of his own needs, that is. Vernon could always tell when he had, because he didn’t have that intense, fevered look in his eye the next day. On those days, Vernon would always maintain eye contact with Tex a little longer than usual, to give him the subtle hint that he knew what he had done.
As time rolled on, Father Vernon’s teachings started to lean more heavily on the threat society posed against children and other vulnerable ones in the community - especially now with these new mask mandates. He toured the local areas and gave many rousing sermons to the assembled crowds, putting everyone on high alert of what to look out for. Tex was moved, but in a way that apparently differed from Vernon - he was beginning to feel that words alone weren’t enough, no matter how effective and motivational they may be. He felt that if the congregation of The Unknown Children had a keener sense of the danger around them, it was up to them to do something about it; help the people protect their weak and vulnerable, fight against the establishments that were preying upon them - but all Vernon ever did for months on end was continue to give speeches and run the ranch as usual.
Tex was starting to get restless.
Tex didn’t want to question the Father, but he couldn't help it - the seed of doubt had already been planted. Before, he would observe Vernon with unwavering trust and admiration, but now he was beginning to eye him with uncertainty, and even suspicion. On the outside, Tex still kept up with his dutiful attention to Vernon’s needs, but an undeniable shift was happening inside of him.
However, he felt sure that he was hiding it well, and that Vernon didn’t notice...
Vernon did notice.
There was a definite change in Tex, and the negative effects were starting to spread into everything else around them. Vernon saw how the congregation took longer to disperse after he had dismissed them, with Tex taking his place in front of them once he believed he was gone out of sight, addressing them in secret. And at night, whenever they were alone together - at best, Tex would be distracted, his mind seemingly elsewhere, and at worst - Tex had become more rigid, more resistant, more… confident. Defiant, even. Tex was also coming to Vernon’s room less and less. Vernon never raised any questions - he had always let Tex come to him willingly, because that was the way he liked it. What he didn’t like however, was this new lack of frequency. It was starting to create a strain between the two of them, and he was sure that the congregation was picking up on it. He decided to wait this whole thing out and see where it led them, because unlike Tex - Father Vernon was nothing if not patient.
Tex decided that tonight was the night he would give Father Vernon the ultimatum: rise up and take some real action, or step aside and let me hold the reins in your place.
Tex was pacing back and forth, and running what he wanted to say through his mind. He was a little nervous, and was starting to feel incomplete without his gun. Vernon had made him dispose of it when he moved into the ranch, as weapons of any kind were strictly forbidden - but Tex reassured himself that he didn’t need it to take on Vernon. He had his own tenacity, and the support of the flock on his side.
At sundown, after Vernon finished giving his evening sermon by the bonfire, he dismissed the congregation as usual, but no one dispersed. United as a group, they all stood together, staring back at Vernon with purpose.
And Tex was standing front-and-center.
“We have some concerns we would like to discuss,” Tex called out.
“Concerns?”
“Yes, concerns. We’re concerned that we’re not doing enough in support of our cause.”
“Oh, I see…”
Vernon eyed the group gathered before him - Tex standing rooted with conviction, and the rest with their unsteady support, hanging back behind him.
“So, our good friend Tex is challenging my authority and questioning my leadership?”
Feeling the eyes of the whole congregation on him, Tex stepped forward and stared Father Vernon down.
“That’s right, I am… Vernon.”
A hushed silence fell over the courtyard. None of them, including Tex, had ever addressed Father Vernon without using his proper title. Their eyes darted back over at him to catch his reaction, and they anxiously waited to see what he would do.
A fresh glint had appeared in his eye. He moved a few steps closer and looked over his would-be traitor.
Tex stood his ground. He wasn’t concerned.
But he really should have been.
Before Tex even knew what happened, his leg was swept out from under him and he was knocked backwards onto the ground. Vernon struck with the speed of a desert snake - jumping Tex as he was trying to scramble back onto all fours, he pinned down his head, and grabbing the waist of Tex’s pants, he jerked them down. Tex’s heart leapt into his throat. He tried to wriggle free and buck him, but Vernon grasped him by the back of his neck, his fingernails digging into his soft flesh and shoved him back down. Getting on his knees behind him, he interlocked his legs with Tex’s, restricting his movement even further. Tex thrashed within his new confines and let out an anguished howl of defeat and impotent rage. Vernon’s lithe form contained a surprising amount of power and strength - his grip on Tex was like an iron cage. Tex realized how little of his strength Vernon had been using when they had were alone together before. Compared to this, he had been almost tender.
Tex’s period of drifting away from the good Father had awakened a beast in him, and by confronting him tonight - he had unleashed it.
Positioned behind Tex, Vernon worked to undo the front of his own pants, exposing his massive erect cock. He gripped himself and positioned his tip near Tex’s opening, then, grabbing Tex by his slim waist, he jerked him back towards his pelvis, impaling him as he sank his cock deep inside him. The sudden intrusion pushing an unholy blend of gasp and groan out of Tex.
“Ohhhh, so tight.. it’s been some time since you’ve allowed me entry, hasn’t it?”
Tex’s tight hole gave Vernon resistance in both directions - blocking him out when he wanted to push in, and gripping him inside like a vortex when he tried to pull back. But he was undeterred - he sank his cock to the hilt, using all of his core strength to tug it back and shove it forward, his pelvis pressing flush against Tex with every thrust, repeatedly lunging Tex’s body forward into the dirt.
“Do you feel the consequences of that?”
Soft whimpers were escaping from Tex, as he was harshly getting reacquainted with the feeling of Vernon’s thick cock inside of him.
“I fear that you need reminding that I built all of this without you,” Vernon said, softly. “I already know exactly what we need to do in support of our cause.”
Still thrusting roughly inside Tex, Vernon released his grip on his neck, and slid his hand down Tex’s back, letting it rest there with his fingers splayed. He let out a groan.
“God, how I’ve missed you,” he whispered, so quietly that only Tex could hear.
Tex braced himself on his elbows as Vernon continued to bottom out inside him. A fresh wave of shame washed over him as he realized that a part of him missed this too - feeling that old familiar sting of Vernon’s hardness being shoved up inside him, the shift he felt in his insides as he was filled up so completely… it felt so right, and yet right now at this very moment, it felt so very, very wrong - Vernon had never put him on full display like this. This has been their own personal, private affair. Tex’s intimacy with Vernon was something that the others only vaguely knew of, but never talked about. He squeezed his eyes shut and tears pooled in the corners. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine that he and Father Vernon were alone back in his bedroom the way they used to be before. Almost, but not quite. He knew all too well where he was, and his imagination refused to let him alter this reality. He could feel the presence of the whole congregation still lingering around them, all of them standing there useless and gaping, simply because they didn’t know what else to do. Tex felt solace in the fact that his hair was covering his face, a curtain dividing him from all their prying eyes and his newfound shame. But just then, Vernon gently pulled his hair back - as if he knew what Tex had been thinking, and that he wouldn’t even give him that.
Vernon started picking up the pace, grunting and moaning in bliss as he found his rhythm.
“This is your true place, is it not? You really don’t want control, Tex. You crave my subjugation. Don’t you?”
As he asked the last question, Vernon wiggled his hips, pressing himself in at just the right angle to hit that one sweet spot inside Tex’s body. Tex’s cock twitched and a sudden, guttural groan and “YES” tore itself from deep inside him, echoing out into the open air.
Vernon smirked. He stroked Tex’s hair out of his face again and leaned over, speaking low, his deep voice vibrating through his chest, sounding smooth as velvet as he spoke near his ear, “You see, Tex… I know you. I know you inside-” he gave a roll of his hips, “-and out. There is nothing you could ever hide from me, and you could never hope to deceive me.”
Tears were running over the ridge of Tex’s nose and down his temple, and - as Vernon resumed his hard, rhythmic thrusts - Tex could feel the line between degradation and veneration becoming blurred somehow. The rest of the congregation sensed it too - they felt a shift from witnessing a disturbing scene of two men scrapping on the ground, to observing something that felt more like an ancient ritual - their writhing bodies moving together in sync, brilliantly illuminated by the fire. Tex pressed his forehead against the hard, rough ground. Deep, wild grunts were escaping from Vernon, and his rough maneuvers inside of Tex were coaxing out responsive groans, their animalistic sounds blending together in an escalated furor into the night. Their pupils were so dilated their eyes looked almost completely black and otherworldly in the soft glow of the firelight. Tex’s cock was rock hard, an angry shade of red, as it bobbed up and down to the rhythm of his body being used, left unsatisfied in the open air, absolutely aching with need. Still fucking him relentlessly, Vernon bent himself over Tex, and with one hand grabbing a fistful of Tex’s hair for leverage, he brought the other to his mouth, sloppily licked it, and reached around and grabbed hold of Tex’s cock. Stars exploded in Tex’s vision and a bestial roar escaped his body as Vernon started to jerk him off. Having his cock stroked and his hole stretched so savagely like this created a sensation that brought him closer to divinity than he ever felt in his life. Vernon was stroking him faster and faster, escalating to a rapid, feverish pace, the tip of Tex’s cock leaping and bobbing in a frenzy, hovering inches over the ground.
“Come on, angel…” Vernon growled under his breath, “cum for me…”
It was like the bursting of a dam. Tex came violently onto the dirt. Several jets of white rapidly shooting to the ground as Tex let out a long stilted moan. The sound of slapping skin rose as Vernon slammed his hips even harder into Tex, seeking his own completion. Vernon came almost immediately, releasing his load into Tex like a demon being exorcised. He remained in place for a minute as they both tried to catch their breath. Then, pulling out and tucking himself back into his pants, Vernon made his way back over in front of Tex to face him. Tex sits there without pulling his pants back up, completely spent, his eyes glazed over as he stared up at his master, his manhood hanging limply as if it, too, was bent in submission to him.
Vernon stood ceremonially before him.
“Tex Watson,” he said, softly.
Tex raised his head. There was a pause, the only sound to be heard was the cracking of the fire.
“Do you wish to renounce your former scheme, and remain with this congregation by reclaiming your place in submission to me?”
“Yes…”
Vernon tsked and tilted his head towards Tex with a pointed look.
If there had been a single shred of resistance left in Tex, it was stripped from him right then at that moment.
“…Father Vernon.”
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