When it came to President Lee’s attention that Elder Ingles had not only had sex with his companion, but he filmed it as well, he knew it was time to give him the necessary discipline.
And having given the boy the honor of his Second Anointing, it seemed only right that Lee should be the one to lay down the punishment.
The two young men, Elder Ingles and Bishop Gibson, stood side by side in the temple basement, waiting in the dark, quiet space for their priest leader to arrive. They didn’t speak or move, holding their hands in front of them, trying to appear as contrite as possible.
Bishop Gibson remembers well what happened to him when President Faust was displeased and feared he’d be punished again. Elder Ingles had no idea what was in store for him, and the anticipation was enough to make his otherwise excited demeanor stay subdued.
President Lee walked in, seeming to convey with each step of his long gate the full weight and power of his authority. As he got closer, the two men felt themselves begin to tremble in awe; it was never pleasant to be on his bad side. Lee sat in a large, red chair at the end of a long, covered, narrow table, and looked up at the two men beside him.
“Bishop Gibson,” Lee spoke up, looking into the scared eyes of his colleague. “Why don’t you show me how the two of you were making out?”
Gibson paused for a second, looking at President Lee to see if this was some kind of trap. It wasn’t a surprise to him that he knew. After all, he’d paid the price for it. Seeing his steel eyes staring back at his, Gibson did as he was told, leaning in toward Elder Ingles.
The missionary looked back at his partner in crime, hoping to intuit from his expression what they should do. It seemed awkward and wrong, but they couldn’t disobey him. As such, Ingles brought his mouth to Gibson’s kissing him softly in return.
He forgot how soft the hairs on Gibson’s face were. The short, blond bristles moved over his upper lip, even tickling his chin as their mouths danced back and forth on each other. Were the circumstances different, this would have been a pleasant reunion: a second chance to explore their passions.
“That’s enough,” Lee interrupted, forcing the two boys to pull apart with just his words. “Bishop Gibson, get him undressed–and I didn’t stay stop making out.”
Gibson moved back timidly to his partner, kissing him more as he began to pull and loosen his tie. The young boy’s breath was heavy, as if he’d just come from a run of some kind. He knew it was the pressure and the anxiety surrounding them, all stemming from President Lee’s tough and unyielding tone.
Ingles stood still, trying hard to just receive his kisses rather than initiate anything. He didn’t know what President Lee wanted from this exchange and how he could make it better or worse. But still, as confusing and conflicting as it was, he felt himself having to work hard to subdue his own excitement. Bishop Gibson was a handsome, strong, passionate man, someone who seemed to cut to his core and make him feel truly alive.
“Play with his dick,” Lee said, somewhat crassly, cutting the long silence that had taken over the dark space.
Gibson was peeling off layer after layer of clothing, stripping the boy down to his garments. And as the dark, conservative, formal clothing fell to the floor, disappearing into the black, the stark white of his garments highlighted the boy’s massive erection, firmly jutting out from his crotch.
Gibson placed his hand over it, running his fingers and palm over its length. Even through the fabric, he could feel every contour and ridge and surface. Despite their anxiety, Elder Ingles was wildly turned on by Bishop Gibson. And, if he was being completely honest, President Lee’s instructions.
“Bring him over here,” Lee ordered, seeing the arousal in Ingle’s pants. The two young men stepped closer to their seated superior, presenting Ingles to him like a gift on a plate. The older man ran his hands over his cock, feeling what Gibson had so expertly roused.
The bishop removed Ingle’s shirt while continuing to plant passionate kisses on his mouth, following the presidents wishes. Ingles let out soft moan of pleasure, feeling the two sets of hands massaging him from top to bottom, stroking his cock and rubbing his chest.
“You sure do like this, don’t you boy?”
“Yes!” Ingles responded, forgetting the nature of this meeting. He couldn’t help it! It felt so good. All he wanted day in and day out was the sensual, seductive feeling of these handsome men worshipping his body.
Pulling down his shorts, President Lee released his boner from it’s white, woven cage. His shaft fell out and bounced up and down as the waistband catapulted it into the air. President Lee took a momentary taste of him, feeling the warm, smooth, stiff member enter his mouth. Elder Ingles was ready for a good, long blowjob, only to find him left wanting.
President Lee took the boy’s member out of his mouth, and holding it in his hand, continued, “Bishop…”
Bishop Gibson stepped over to the familiar bench, reaching down to pull off its covering. Elder Ingles watched intently, curious of what was under the dark, heavy cloth. As Gibson pulled it away, Elder Ingles’ eyes widened to discover a long bench studded with butt plugs, each building in size bigger and bigger, all the way to President Lee’s chair.
The missionary was worked up, heart beating hard, still experiencing the lingering taste of Gibson on his mouth, only to discover the real challenge ahead of him. President Lee didn’t say anything, but looking at it, Elder Ingles was able to guess what was asked of him. He looked at Elder Gibson once more, hoping to see any comfort in his eyes. Gibson looked back knowingly, as if to say, “You’ll be fine.”
President Lee, feeling the increased pulse in the boy’s hard cock, looked up to Gibson and ordered, “Have the boy proceed to the first peg.”
Gibson guided his partner to the start of his journey, carefully lubing up the object with a pump of oil. Elder Ingles stood over the peg, like a diver standing on the edge of his board. He took a breath, closed his eyes, and bent his knees, lowering his body down.
He felt the push on his hole as it made contact with his body, followed by the rush of blood that warmed up his sphincter. He paced himself, slowly opening himself up as he continued to work his way down. And before he knew it, the foreign object slid inside him, pushing up just shy of his prostate. He held himself in place before he heard from President Lee, “All the way down.”
This final submission pushed his legs flat against the dark wood, tingling his prostate as the object worked inside him. He let out a moan and stroked his hard cock. He sat for a while, allowing himself to feel it and get used to it. And before he could truly get comfortable, he saw Gibson’s oiled hand slick up the next one ahead of him, followed by the ominous voice of President Lee saying, “Proceed to the next peg.”

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