#muttsfatherezekiel

[starbound-mutt]

i am struggling really bad to put this in words but Father Sullivan being broken on someone's cock. The fat bastard laid on his back in someone's nice, luxurious bed. A level of comfort he'd never be able to afford in his lifetime. All he can do is grip onto the sheets as he's mercilessly pounded. Brain too clouded with pleasure to form words, trying to pathetically beg for more despite it all. There's no more reservations once he lets go of his faith, nothing stopping the man from loosing himself in this hedonistic bender he would find himself on.

I want him to loose all sense of self and any idea of what he was before this, able to remade and shaped into whatever was desired of him by the one who torn him apart. Whoever is it, gripping his face and making him look them in the eyes and thank them and force him to ask for more. I need them to kiss, Sullivan hates kissing but that's okay, that can be changed. whatever whatever something else

I can see the scene very clearly in my head but i cannot put it into words well theres so much more detail and just its making me upset that i cannot tell the masses

[starbound-mutt]

Oh god I was going to write a full length thing for this but i don't have time or brainpower. But I just imagined Father Ezekiel running the confessional booth and if he had to deal with half of what some others deal with, I don't know if he could handle it.

You can be on the other side of the booth, confessing the lustful thoughts you have about him and all you would hear is nervous shuffling in the dead silence before eventually all he could think of saying is, "Why would you tell me that..." in the most pathetic, defeated voice possible. It would be followed up with another awkward chunk of silence before he contiunes with, "You can go now." He's fucking this up royally but he's being put in situations he didn't think were possible. This is why they don't have him taking confession unless he has to. Poor bastard needs a cigarette after.

[starbound-mutt]

Priest who cannot help how hard he gets from looking into how to take care of a human pet. This wasn't suppose to make him feel this way. He didn't know it could make him feel this way. This was wrong- the way he strained against his tight dress pants was wrong. There was nothing wrong about looking into alternative forms of companionship however, it must be all those sinful ads on the websites he has to open so he can continue his research.

Priest who bites down on his cheek hard enough to draw blood to distract from the wet spot slowly forming on the front of his slacks... But it's not enough. Maybe it's time for a smoke break. Yeah- Yeah that's a good idea. Fresh air and it'll all go away... Well this is not working, the Priest is on his third cigarette and it's not working. His mind keeps wandering... Pain.. Maybe if he's just in a bit more pain, it'll go away. Okay but how... There's no ashtray out here, he's just been grinding the cigarette butts out with his boot after tossing them to the ground. Should- should he put one out on himself? Kills two birds with one stone.

Is it normal to be this scared? I mean it seems like a perfectly logical solution to his problem but the tremble in his hands tries to say otherwise as he pulls up the sleeve of his cassock. It'll only hurt for a moment and it's for his own benefit. He can do this. He has to do this... The shaking doesn't stop as the lit end gets pressed into the thin skin of the inner wrist. Poor bastard wasn't smart enough to do it anywhere else.

[starbound-mutt]

Thinking about being a dog for a Priest again. Such a lovely simple life, He's granted me the privilege of never having to worry again and all He asks of me is to keep Him company. I have so many toys. I'm allowed everywhere in the house. He's bought me such a beautiful and comfortable collar. I even have different sets of ears and tails and I never have to worry about wearing real clothes again. I always hated the texture of normal clothing. He's truly saved me. My Savior.

Of course I can't help but still have needs. I know He has needs to. Most nights He pushes me away, telling me to behave, when I muzzle into his crotch. Other times when I'm in heat, He'll lock me in my kennel when I start humping whatever I can get my hands on. Saying a prayer of strength for the both of us.

But on the nights He drinks. Oh those wonderful nights. I've learned I can indulge His habits if I set another beer on the side table instead of trying to drop it in His lap. Then when He has one too many, His slurred voice calls me over. My tail wagging and head leaned on his thigh, placing myself between his legs. His hand through my hair, petting me sloppily as He praises me for being such a well behaved dog. Always so faithful, always listening so well. How much of a pretty mutt I am. I look so good tonight and have been so good. I deserve a treat, don't I? Of course I do, and He's more than willing to give it to me.

It's the sound of the zipper that sends a shiver through my body. I know I can't act too eager for this or He'll start to second guess Himself. But my mouth drools and my tail still wags. I let Him guide my head to His already hard cock, a few licks to the tip and a kiss or two before He pushes me further down. My Owner is never the one to take His time with these things. Once He gets a bit of pleasure in this state, He wants more and quickly.

I'm not given a lot of grace this night, He's barely easing me onto His length. It's more of a process of choking until I learn to relax before forcing more of Himself down my throat. I've learned to never look up. He doesn't want to meet my eye, it makes Him feel more guilty later. After testing that I really can't take any more of Him, He pulls me off to breathe. I'm given a few breaths before he pushes me down again. It's only a couple more thrusts before He starts to really fuck my face. It's sloppy and it's messy, hurts when He hits the back of my throat roughly.

Always over much sooner than I'd like it to be. He cums directly down my throat and holds me there to make sure I swallow every last drop. My visions starts to blur when He finally lets me go. I cough and sputter for air, as He stands up to go shower. Always needing to wash His sin away after. I'm left aching and needy but at least I'll be alone. Hopefully I can find something to hump against for my own release before He's back.

[starbound-mutt]

Dreaming about being turned into a dumb pup for a Priest. A very lonely man who just needed some company. A man I looked up to and admired. Maybe it was the way my confessions ended up being less about asking for forgiveness and more laments of loneliness, expressions of want for life to simpler with less choices, wishes of decisions to be made for me. Weeks upon weeks of indirect pleads instead of absolution of my sins. Maybe He too shared my struggles in His own way. Sometimes a shepherd must go out of his way to help his flock.

It could be after a night in which we shared a meal, maybe I had asked if He could spare any of his time, maybe I was looking for advice, guidance. It was already so late that it would have done us both well to talk over dinner. That He would have no problem inviting me into His home so we may nourish our bodies... And well it was, His words have always been so comforting to me, making me feel like I am not so lost, that I have a path to follow rather than aimlessly wandering blind. But after the meal, oh, I was so very tired, as if I could fall asleep at the dining table. I think I may have.

Waking up felt restrictive and,, soft? A gentle ache in my head grew gradually as I processed what plush comfort I was laid upon and the tenseness in my jaw... Oh God, I can't close my mouth, I try to bite down but I am gagged? Why would I be gagged, I have to get this off, something is wrong- it's all very wrong. I try to sit up but I can't uncurl my fists- It's hard to move my hands.. I've been put into some kind of mitts? I can't grab anything, that won't stop me from getting up. But the metal that I hit my head on will. I finally take a moment to try and understand where I am. What has been done to me...

I'm in too small of a dog kennel to comfortably sit up in. There are blankets beneath me that make it a bit more bearable. I am gagged, muzzled on top of that. There are mitts on my hands that are locked at the wrists with embroidered paw prints. Very similar to the boots I am also in. I wear some kind of belt that supports, what I think is, a silicone tail. Knee-pads too, maybe whoever has done this expects that I crawl.

There is not much I can do except shift in place trying to figure out how to escape. I already tried fruitlessly knocking against the cage to somehow move the lock. I can see it has to be lifted, but considering I had already tried pushing at my mitts that just won't budge, it was the only thing I could think of.

My head snaps to the sound of a door opening. He has come through the door with a thick collar in His hand with a little metal tag that clinks with His movement. An odd look of fondness and care on His face.

[starbound-mutt]

Sullivan has to erase the google search history every time Ezekiel uses the computer and could care less about the weird shit he's googling, Ez just doesn't know that your history is visible to others.

[starbound-mutt]

thinking about that stupid priest who kidnapped someone to keep as a dog, and the fact that he probably went to the pet store for supplies and when they asked him what kind of dog he had he said that he was preparing to bring one home but he didn't have a name picked out yet and if they have any name recommendations

he knew you very well before he took you, the thought of him calling you by your old name bothered him too much, reminded him too much that you were, in fact, a person at some point, a person he knew for years before this, a person who was just as lonely as him

[starbound-mutt]

Thinking about being a dog again for a Priest who's so terribly lonely. He has a dining table he doesn't use, there's never company over. We eat all our meals in the livingroom. He sits on the couch, surfing through channels to find some movie to use as background noise. I eat on the floor, my food in a dog bowl. I've learned to wait for his command before I eat. Sometimes dinner is my favorite part of the day if I know he's making something special, sometimes he's home so late I'm so terribly hungry when he returns. I eat the same as him, I think it's the guilt that keeps him from feeding me dog food. Or well. We tried it once, I wouldn't eat a single meal for two days and he gave up. I think it bothered him too. The look on his face as his scooped kibble into the bowl was a mixture of I think disgust, disbelief, sometimes else. I'll never know.

He tells me about his day inbetween bites. Every little thing that's happened. Every joy and bother. I usually finish first and I can lean my head against his thigh as I listen to him talk. My favorite part is when he tells me how much he misses me. It makes my tail wag. I don't like hearing that he feels like he not longer fits in with his own church. He tells me something about how others wouldn't understand his desires, that he does not have someone to confide in or to seek comfort from. It makes him sad so it makes me sad. All I can do is whine and muzzle into him more. There's so many words he says to me, I can't quite process all of them. That's okay. I'm really just gald he's home.

We've finished our food and he's giving me that look again. It's another sad one, I don't know why. He gently pets my head before cupping my face in both his hands. His touch is so nice, so so nice. I'm given a quiet "I'm sorry" before he leans down to kiss my forehead. It's brief, pulling away before I can whine for another. Grabbing our dishes, he takes them to the kitchen. I'm almost tempted to follow him but I know he'll be back to finish the movie.