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The Porn Note

Chapter 3: Servicing Sunday

By Draconicon

After leaving the gym and talking with Rashii, Malcolm did everything he could do avoid thinking of the notebook. He threw himself into his engineering texts. He watched the old classic movies that were stored in his communicator until he could recite them from memory. The mouse even streamed some of the raunchiest porn that he could find, staring at it and not looking away, hoping that it would quell just how much he wanted to test out the notebook on the people he knew. In hindsight, that proved to be a mistake, as it only made him more curious, but it at least made him keep the curiosity towards concepts, rather than towards practice.

Unfortunately, it meant that by Sunday morning, his distractions were exhausted. The mouse stared at the ceiling, red-eyed from a lack of sleep, and sore from a lack of...well, relief. He groaned as he sat on his hands as he pulled himself upright, his cock throbbing so hard that it made his blanket look like it was pitched on a ruler instead of a body part.

"Fuck off...just...fuck...right...off."

Ignoring his erection, the mouse stumbled off of his bed and reached for his clothes. A new pair of underwear, same jeans as the day before, new shirt. He'd need to do laundry before long...

Or...

He looked at the notebook, and shook his head. For all he knew, if he wrote down that he wanted some new clothes, it'd all be fetishwear. And that was if the thing worked at all. It couldn't be real. It just...

But what if it was?

He flopped back down as his head flooded with all sorts of sexy scenarios, from writing out a new relationship for himself with a hot...person - he couldn't decide what he wanted - to just a harem for a night. All of it sounded amazing, and he wanted to finally have some of the experiences that other people did. He could even get a bunch of System girls, if he wanted, rather than going on the breeding list and hoping that his name came up as something desirable for the future.

Stop, stop, stop! Malcolm thought, slapping himself on the forehead. It's not real, you're not going to do it, and you're going to...find something to distract you. It doesn't matter, just figure something out!

The mouse sat up again, looking at the bubble over his window. The fresh air was hardly enough to keep his mind out of the gutter, so the first step would have to be going outside. But then, he wouldn't be able to breathe well enough to be thinking clearly, so he'd have to come inside again. And he'd have to have the notebook with him too, or someone might come into his dorm and steal it...

There's only one place, isn't there? Well...at least mom and dad won't have anything to say about me skipping service this week.

#

Nodding his thanks at a two-toned blue dragon that let him into the chapel, Malcolm made his way down the aisles to one of the empty pews. It wasn't that hard to find one. Ever since the System had taken over - according to his family - the attendance at church had gone way down. His mom hadn't been here for weeks, of course - she was too ill to attend - but she had told him of how it was when she was a kid. Pews packed to the point where the congregation had to stand or wait out in the lobby, and people singing and swaying their praises to the lord on high.

These days, the System provided any miracle that the people cared to name. Even resurrection, if Lord Jonah felt up to it. There wasn't much need for them, in Malcolm's eyes, but the churches were still around, still protected by the System itself. He didn't understand it, personally, but if Lord Jonah felt the need to keep them around, he supposed there was a reason.

He ended up sitting about halfway between the pulpit and the back wall, leaning the notebook against his side as he looked at the wolf on stage. Dark gray, a little silver on his chin, and with a book that received a bigger beating than a southern child done wrong, the preacher put on quite a show. The mouse wasn't sure what it was about, but the frenzy was fun enough to watch.

The other people in the congregation seemed to be of a similar mindset. Most of them were hardly awake, and the ones that were clutched cups of coffee or tea in shaking hands. Malcolm could see a few other students around, most of which were taking notes. Probably for a theology class or something.

As the lecture went on - something about adultery or something along those lines - his attention slowly shifted back to the notebook again. The mouse shook his head as soon as he realized he was considering stripping the woman that was walking down the aisles, shaking the donation jar, but the thought remained. How would that giraffe look with her shirt off and her pants shimmying down? How many more tips would she get if she leaned down and -

Malcolm slumped forward, groaning as he rested his head against the seat in front of him. It took everything he had to not start thumping out a steady beat on the wooden edge, but nothing stopped him from whimpering.

God, in church? I don't even believe, but...in a church?!

He should have left it behind. He shouldn't have brought it with him. It was too much of a temptation, and it should have been put somewhere safe, and -

"Excuse me."

Interrupted in mid-rant, Malcolm looked up. Same dragon as before, with a bit of a golden mane, he noticed now that he was giving the reptile his full attention. He leaned back.

"Sorry, yeah?"

"Would you care to make a donation?"

"...Beg pardon?"

"Part of the church's services, I'm afraid. Come for the lecture, get a free serving of guilt along with it. Donation for the children?"

Looking down at the little basket that the dragon shook for him, Malcolm slowly shook his head in return.

"I didn't bring anything."

"Heh, nobody does. But thanks for listening."

Yeah...thanks for taking it well, he thought as he watched the dragon walk away. His eyes dropped down before he could stop them, taking in the sight of a nice ass beneath those khaki slacks -

He slapped himself, hard...and unfortunately, loud.

The preacher stopped talking, and everyone in the room turned to look at him. His cheeks, already hot with shame for thinking about the blue dragon like that in a church, turned even hotter as he became the source of attention for the entire room. The congregation muttered to themselves, and the sound echoed as it tended to do.

"Shameful."

"Attention whore."

"Just pitiful."

"Think he's mental?"

"Should get the System out here..."

Every whispered phrase made him sink deeper into his pew until his head no longer popped out past the one in front of him. Melting into the ground and barely grabbing the notebook, he huddled down under the seat itself, curling into a little ball of humiliation. The whispering still went on, getting more and more annoyed until the preacher started up again. This time, ranting about the young people of the age.

Malcolm looked down at the notebook. It could...maybe...give him a way to get out of here. If people were more interested in what was going on around him rather than his behavior, then...

It's not real though...is it?

The orgy, the rabbit, everything that had happened since he'd picked up the stupid thing echoed through his head. Too many things had happened that were unexplainable as anything but magic. If it was real...Well, this was the crowd to try it on. He doubted any of them were anything less than deserving of some return humiliation.

Slowly, he pulled himself out from under the seat, and poked his head around the edge of the pew in front of him. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it right. Who deserved something 'fun?' The obvious answer was the dragon, but what was his name? He cast around the room, looking for him, and eventually spotted the dragon at the door, pulling out some pamphlets, and saw a nametag.

"Teryx, huh? Well...let's see what this can do for you, Teryx."

He squatted back down, flipping the notebook open. There was that giraffe lady, but the way that everyone else had started and the dragon hadn't told him that she wasn't to Teryx's tastes. He could make her be his taste, maybe, but...that seemed unfair. But the preacher, though...heh, well, that could be a thing. Pleasure and humiliation; seemed fair enough to him. Pulling a pencil from the pew in front of him, he set to writing.

Teryx will come to the stage, and strip down. As soon as he's naked, he'll get a blowjob from the preacher, who will then talk about the merits of pleasure as a spiritual exercise.

There. If anything would prove whether the notebook was real or fake, it would be that. He closed the notebook, and immediately heard footsteps. The mouse glanced around the corner of the pew, saw Teryx, and then looked closer. The dragon's eyes were slightly glazed, almost like he'd been stunned by something, or was walking without thinking, like his mind was...somewhere else.

Is...is it working?

He stared at the dragon as he walked by, his curiosity growing by the second, as was his erection. It throbbed down his pants as he waited for his dreams to come crashing down, or for his fears to be proven fruitless. It would only be a few seconds away, as the dragon got closer and closer to the stage. The preacher hadn't stopped or changed his diatribe yet, but it didn't have to happen for a little while. Teryx reached the steps, walked up them -

"- and now, ladies and gentlemen, I have a confession to make. I have long lusted for cock, and today, as part of my lecture on sex as a connection to the divine, I will show my devotion to it."

"Oh...my..."

Malcolm couldn't even finish the sentence. The preacher was actually doing it. The old wolf was...and the crowd didn't say a thing. Just like in the locker room, until he'd touched the notebook, nobody had known that the gangbang going on around them was anything beyond normal. To them, to everyone but him, this was just life as it was supposed to happen.

His attention returned to Teryx as the dragon started stripping down, a buttoned-up shirt coming off in short order and landing with a flutter on stage. Dark and light blue scales glittered under the light that shone from above, just slightly damp with sweat, and reflected towards the ground like glitter. The formerly kindly, dignified dragon looked all sorts of sultry, his eyes half-closed and his hands running down his body. A bulge that was longer than the mouse expected started growing down the dragon's legs, but not for long, as the old wolf reached out to unzip his assistant.

"Ladies, I say, I say to you, there is no greater devotion to the lord than to pleasure another in his name. Men, oh disciples of the lord our god, it is not against scripture, but true to it, to take - mmmph mmmph mmmm."

The sermon was cut short by the cock that was shoved most of the way down the old wolf's throat, the preacher continuing to try and deliver his sermon despite everything. Bobbing his head along the dragon's cock as the khaki's hit the ground, the preacher managed to get a word in here and there, but the main thing his microphone picked up were glucks, gulps, and gasps as his lips slid up and down a thickening, rising cock.

Malcolm panted, his cock throbbing hard and starting to drip in his jeans. The front was tented up hard, and he wanted to take it out and jerk off so bad. It was a perfect show, somehow better and more taboo than anything he'd looked at the night before. Even if it was technically tamer, this...this was real. It was happening here, in a church. A 'taboo' act taking place where it was most forbidden. The mouse was, frankly, amazed he hadn't already shot a lot in his pants.

He looked down at the notebook, and realized he could write anything, anything at all, and the world would bend to it. The world would make his fantasies come to life. And with that, he had no more resistance.

The preacher will find himself cumming in his pants, and then pulling himself free, stroking himself for the entire audience to see. Teryx will take a seat on the preacher's face, getting his ass eaten out, and moan for the lord, thanking him for the gift he is receiving. And the audience will freely get off to it.

He shivered as he put the last period in, just in time to look up and see it happening. The old wolf was cumming then and there, his silvery head thrown back as he howled his pleasure for the entire room to hear. As he fell back, there was no missing the dark stain in his light slacks, the tan color faded to a dark brown from how much he'd spilled. Yet, he wasn't soft, and as he pulled his pants off, Malcolm couldn't help but lick his lips at the eight inches that the wolf sported as he laid on his back. Heavy, silver-streaked balls were exposed to the whole congregation, and he could see more than a few men and women looking at their holy man as if he was an object of desire.

They took the position he'd described, the old wolf lying down and Teryx straddling his face. Almost immediately, the blue dragon threw his head back and moaned, spreading his arms like the stained glass window behind him, matching the man on the cross precisely.

"Ooooh, lord, thank you...thank you for the blessing of a tongue in my ass...fuck, it feels so good...bless me more...bless me more!"

And the wolf did. Malcolm joined everyone else by shucking off his pants, eagerly stroking his cock to the show. Men, women, and even a few that were somewhere in between got into the show, fingers busy below the waist and above them in many cases. He got an eyeful of a vixen's huge rack, and an otter that leaned back and jerked himself off with his webbed feet. He saw an old horse in a lab coat with it thrown all the way open, jerking off a cock that was nearly as long as his arm. He even saw what he'd assumed to be a mare leaning back, fiddling with her ass as a floppy, half-dead cock bounced above hormonally shrunken balls.

Everyone, everyone was getting into it, just as he'd written. Malcolm almost brought himself over the edge, but stopped himself there, panting hard as his cock throbbed and dripped in front of him.

Not...not yet. Savor this...savor this.

He was so close to letting himself go crazy. He wanted to see what the limits of the book were, caution be damned, but he had to slow down. If he pushed it, no matter how powerful it was, people would know. When it was over, all of these people would remember what had happened...wouldn't they? Maybe?

Ugh...I don't know...I don't -

"Oh, fuck it, give me that holy cock!"

A woman who had to be in her fifties, a chameleon or a similar lizard, leaped out of her chair. He stared as she rushed the stage, leaped down between the preacher's legs, and rammed his cock into her mouth, knot and all, and fingered herself furiously to what she did.

Well...fuck it, indeed.

He whipped the notebook open again, his pencil dashing across it at a breakneck pace. It almost ripped the paper in places, but his fantasies would not be denied.

The room will fill with all sorts of 'holy' bondage equipment. Golden chains, crosses with restraints, um, everything.

He heard the sounds of warping equipment before he looked up, but he saw the cross on the wall go from wood to metal, with a 'halo' of leather that would hold the head still, and 'nails' that were more like restraints for the wrists and ankles. It even had a spear at the side, though it was decidedly more phallic than the one that was supposed to have pierced the side of the man on the cross.

Other things fell from the ceiling, the light fixtures warping to become chains, and the various pews becoming see-through glass. He could see every dick, every nipple, and - if he leaned down - every hole in the church. The bibles in the pews became boxes of sex toys, with a different one in every box, almost like goody bags.

It...it changes everything, he thought as he looked at what he'd written, and what the church had become. Is nothing safe?

He looked at the mare at his side, at the cock that she was obviously trying to transition past, and he wrote a little more. As soon as he'd finished, he watched it get slurped into her, her empty ball-sack folding upwards into a pussy, and the head of her cock shrinking down and seemingly swelling, becoming a tight little clit. No sooner had it happened than her fingers were plunging into her new sex, her screams of pleasure becoming louder, more joyful than ever.

He looked at the old preacher, and wrote more. The silver disappeared from his fur, and he shrank, shrank, shrank, all the way back down to eighteen, becoming a gangly, more youthful version of himself, and Malcolm shook his head in awe.

Transformative...age shifting...reality warping...

Was there anything that this book couldn't do, if it led to sex? He looked around, saw the pleasure that everyone was in, how almost all were sitting down and just masturbating, and he had one last thing to say. One last word to write.

Orgy.

He barely had time to set the book down before the room exploded. People swarmed over from the pew behind, carrying him forward in a flood towards the stage, and the rest of the room was no different. He laughed as he was pressed into a wall of flesh, carried along completely according to his will to the threesome on stage. Teryx was still screaming at the top of his lungs his thanks for the blessing, bobbing his hips back and forth as his ass was eaten out, and the lady had her lips wrapped around the preacher's knot.

And then they were there, almost a hundred people all stripping down, sucking, fucking, touching, groping, fingering. He had at least five hands on him, one on his cock, one rubbing his ass, another tweaking one of his nipples, one at his feet, the fifth rubbing his head before it disappeared. The mouse moaned, dripping all over the stage - no, over a fox, then over an orca - before he was pushed down onto his back. An eager coyote was already over him, pushing a big fuzzy butt down on his cock, while the orca from a moment ago straddled his face, rubbing a twitching, pink cock over his lips.

He sucked, and fucked, and was sucked in return. Someone had slipped between his legs, dragging a tongue along his balls as he bounced his hips up to meet the coyote's ass, and even sucked them into their mouth. No idea who, and he didn't really care. All that mattered was the fact that he was getting his rocks off with someone for the first time in his life, and it was what everyone wanted.

The orca slammed into his mouth, and he coughed, gagged, but only for a moment. It was like the power of the book had given everyone exactly what they needed to carry out their tasks, his gag reflex disappearing with the second thrust, and not returning after that. Musk, saltiness, a bit of metallic taste filled his mouth before he swallowed, pulling it away and making room for more. Hot, tight, wet walls grabbed his cock, and a tiny, flicking tongue bathed his balls. His senses were overwhelmed, and he just went with it, loving it, enjoying it as everyone moved and rolled and moaned around him.

He felt the coyote bounce off of his cock before he came, only to be replaced by something wetter and different, more textured on the inside. A woman? Maybe, he couldn't tell, but he could feel that she was already full and dripping, another man's cum rolling down on his cock. It didn't turn him off. If anything, it made him harder.

The orca came, and he swallowed as the last of it drizzled out over his face. He had a moment, barely, to see the white wolfess on his cock, to enjoy the sight of her pierced nipples and clit, before someone else rolled onto his face. A dripping pussy, and a stretched clit, ground and rubbed against his muzzle, and he had to dive in and lick before he drowned.

It was like a game of musical chairs, except it was with partners, people changing and moving on every so often, and occasionally knocking each other off of their partners in order to get someone new. He felt his cock slide into another two assholes before he came, and even then, he was being passed on to fill someone else. His mouth had pleased three before he had a chance to lay back and breathe, his head spinning from everything.

As a ferret pulled him back, a cock rubbing against the mouse's ass, he was able to look up. Teryx had been lifted up to the cross, held against it and tied down with the various bits of bondage. It was almost like seeing the holy scene in the stained glass again, except for the fact that the dragon's ass pushed back in a hole in the cross, and his mouth was held open with a 'halo' of a gag, leaving his mouth free to use but unable to close. His feet dangled from one end of the cross, and as the congregation pulled the cross from the wall, a black dragon was somewhere in there, licking Teryx's toes.

Then the ferret slammed in, and he moaned, curling his toes at the sudden penetration from behind. He closed his eyes, enjoying it, riding through the whole pleasurable routine, and wondered how long this could possibly last.

#

Everyone ran out of energy around noon, save for about three people. He wasn't one of them, and laid in the puddle on the stage as the others went to go and get coffee and the cookies meant for after the service for everyone else. Malcolm stared at the ceiling, slowly shaking his head at the impossibility of it all.

I just...I just lost my virginity...in an orgy...

It seemed impossible. Even the people high up in the System never had something like this. You had to go to one of the Unaligned States for something like this, with the System cracking down on huge groups like this, or to Crypto for this level of chaos and hedonism. Yet, here he was, in the middle of a church, soaked in who knew how many peoples' cum and juices, his cock aching but hoping for more.

He slowly rolled his head to the side, looking at the 'holy' dragon still on the cross. Upside down, now, his ass drooling with cum, impaled by the giant cock-toy of a spear, and he had 'Holy Whore' and 'God's Fuck Toy' written on his blue scales. No complaints there, it seemed, as Teryx seemed to happily moan in a giddy semi-trance.

Malcolm groaned as he pulled himself to a seated position, feeling every muscle in his body ache from the sheer exertion he had just gone through. The mouse remembered penetrating at least ten different people, though he couldn't think of any distinguishing features of their various holes. It was hard to tell who they were, considering that he'd had someone in his face almost every time that he'd been fucking another person.

He tried to stand, and failed. Deciding that crawling was his best way to get to the edge of the stage, the mouse made his way over, shaking his head the whole way. It was easier, considering that the whole stage was soaked in cum and pussy juice and sweat, but it still left his body aching as he tried to not collapse again.

Better get the book...someone's gonna get pregnant, if I don't fix this.

Falling off the stage in a giddy lump, Malcolm giggled even as he groaned. There were a few canes leaned up beside him, probably from some of the elderly people in the congregation. He borrowed one, using it to get himself upright, and hobbled back to his pew.

It didn't take long to find the notebook, but not because it was where he left it. The notebook was on the floor, and beneath the stuff he'd written was a single word.

BLASPHEMY!

"Oooooooh shit..."

That first wave, when everyone was pushing past him to get to the stage. If someone had touched the notebook then, like he had in the locker room, then they would have been snapped out of the whole thing. And if they were spiritual enough to really want to be here, they would have run off, or worse -

The sound of sirens filled the air, and he spotted red and blue lights blinking outside of the church. Hard squeals filled the air as the vehicles made their turns, and he saw the lights collect outside the front door of the church.

"Oh, shit shit shit shit shit..."

"Nnngh..."

"Ugh."

"My head..."

"My baaaaaaaaaalls."

"Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit."

If he didn't move fast, he would have a riot outside, and one inside. The police had to still be getting out of their cars, though, while the people in the congregation were waking up now. He pulled out the pencil and started writing, muttering to himself as he did so.

The whole group will get high and relaxed, thinking that they're in a religious experience from their orgy. They'll reach over and continue in a giant circle jerk, and get turned on by talking about how holy everything is.

The groaning babble from the stage tapered away from the discomfort they were feeling, leaving him alone with the notebook, and the fact that the police were outside. If they weren't charging in, it meant it wasn't SWAT. So, that was something. Unfortunately, there were a lot more people out there than a simple 'satisfy the crazy caller' response would need. The mouse shook, his already-tired legs almost collapsing as he whimpered.

Almost stumbling even with the cane, he slowly walked towards the lobby, and then to the front door. He stood on his tiptoes, uncomfortably aware of how naked he was, and peered through the window.

Four hovercars and sixteen cops, all of them in full uniform, were gathering outside. About half of them were getting the crowds to stop looking at the church, while the others were deploying turrets around the front doors. Two were already up and running, and the other two were getting set up as he watched.

Can this get any worse?

Knock, knock.

"This is the police. Is anyone in there that is not infected?"

That's a yes. What the hell do I do now?

The End