From Temple To Temple

Story by Rott3n on SoFurry

, , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

#1 of Hangings

Take a rare look into a religious organization of clones as they perform a ritual dispatch of a clone who has grown too old for their usefulness. Be blessed by the Holy Trinity of Death Piss and Seed and ready ones body to accept the holy spirit within your own Temple.


From Temple To Temple

By Rotten

The difference between eyes open and eyes closed had blurred into obscurity; the dog didn't know the difference. Hands secured behind his back, both of his elbows and biceps held by unseen hands while guided down a long silent hall. Only the sounds of his claws against polished concrete and the thick soles of the boots echoed off the walls. Ezekiel knew where he was going, the end of the line, to dance one last dance. He knew he deserved it. The atrocities he had committed were in the headlines for months.

It was all in the name of God.

The God of pain and pleasure, sacrifices made for potential utopia. A paladin of faith and steadfast zealot, he broke into the Murkoff Corporation's mainframe and injected his identity among the crew; a worker bee with deadly intent. When he was captured in the pilot seat, he was alone, the crew and their family forced into several airlocks that had been opened to the vacuum of space. Their bodies unprotected were found mangled and in piles; it was part of some ritual of faith. Ezekiel's body had modifications. Modifications that would have protected him if he were to be lost in space; well not protected, but keep him alive.

Alive to endure the emptiness, the simultaneous heat and frigid darkness that came with the exposure to heaven. The sweet touch of airlessness, lungs trying to fill with air that simply was not there, a constant state of hypoxia and pain while the faith's modifications kept the brain alive to feel everything. Forced to endure organic flesh freezing solid and boiling; Nirvana.

But Ezekiel failed the faith and was captured; the touch of God had been removed from his body and made mortal. Stripped to fur and flesh, naked as if he were born again, the one moment he was closest to death; birth. A dim hall presented itself to him and soon he was led up the steps of an archaic device; a gallows. The dog's pointed ears lifted as claws pushed against the wooden planks; they creaked and complained under their weight.

Confusion filled his head, the last place he remembered was the inside of a Corpo ship. But now, as his senses sharpened, the scent of something familiar began to tickle his nose. His arms clenched and his body recoiled as the platform was bathed in light. Blinding white, his eyes adjusted and he was presented with several figures on the platform. Like mirrors, their black faces stared at him with a mix of emotions. Some looked stern and disappointed while others looked thankful to see their brother once again.

Their bodies were cloned from God, a midnight black American Staffordshire Terrier, found in the outer reaches of space preserved by the first of the religions. A look of bliss in the petrified face of God, they grasped a book to their chest which led to the first commands of God. The only variations found on the dog's bodies were the various, self-imposed scars that decorate their bodies. The only unique features among them all.

Ezekiel looked to one of his brothers in confusion, "please, show mercy."

"Quiet," the pitbull barked, "you are not facing euthanasia in a foreign place. We pulled you from the unbeliever's clutches so you may die in your home. That is mercy enough," the dog added. He waved his hands to command the other two guards to hold Ezekiel in place.

Ezekiel struggled and growled a moment before he felt a pinch in his chiseled biceps. His eyes darted to the injector gun feeling the liquid fill beneath his skin. His body swiftly absorbed the contents and its effects began to take hold. Pulse slowed while he visibly began to slump heavily in the equal, brawny clones. The one who spoke had turned to address those on the floor. All were naked as they gazed up at the gallow's platform. Some showed signs of arousal while others were openly playing with sheaths, asses, and balls in anticipation of the ritual of great pain and lust they would witness. Some were virgins to the Temple Transfer ritual while others were seasoned veterans; they tended to linger at the back to more easily slip into virgin tails when the final moments of their brother's life.

"Brothers, we have gathered on this day to honor our fallen brother. Ezekiel, one of our first born, the shell God inhabits, has grown old and unsuitable to serve as a dwelling. We gather here to dispatch the shell and receive the pieces of God within our own temples. Brother Ezekiel will be hung from the neck until the two gifts are showered upon the youngest among us; may brothers Raphael and Albert step forward, you shall approach the gallows and please your senior during their last ritual." The pitbull gestured for the pair to come forward; the two dogs did as requested and were guided by two others to take up their positions.

Ezekiel's mind had drifted into an altered state as the drug's pumped through his veins. Eyes tried to look up at the dog and executioner. He saw two and then three of them, he couldn't focus as his pulse drummed in his ear. He began to feel nauseous and aroused at the same time. Though that nausea would calm as a red blindfold was pulled over his eyes and tied tight. Vaguely aware of what was happening, he felt the thick necklace draped over his neck and pulled tight.

The dog gasped when he felt warmth wrap around his cock; he hadn't even realized he had become erect. His weight shifted until his shoulders fell across a black, scarred, chest. That subtle cologne, it tickled his nose and brought color to the shapes that danced around in his mind; hallucinations.

"Soon, I will be with you Brother; together in God. Let me help an old dog before you dangle," his peer said loud enough for only Ezekiel to hear.

Ezekiel was left to whimper and succumb to instinct while his knot was squeezed and played with. A steady stream of pre-cum hit the floor of the trap door while the pink flesh throbbed and bounced from the attention. His whines grew to a crescendo, teased to the edge of ejaculation; it did not come as the stimulation to his erection ceased. For a moment, the dog was left to wonder, in his blinded state, if this was it. But the touch returned and slowly worked him back to the edge.

The other Brothers had begun their own participations; hands and maws busy. The euthanasia chamber slowly began to fill with the prayers of pleasure. Those whose shafts were pleasured were each given a blade; they knew what to do. Some reached the for their backs while others flexed their chests and brought the silver blades to their bodies. Some struggled to find virgin flesh to slice and mark with blood. Blood on their bodies to accept the holy spirit that would be spilled from their brother.

The ritual lasted for a half hour, their seed spilled on the floor that they now sat on. Crimson blood mingled with the pearly fluid staining the floor and bodies; an orgy of pain and pleasure fulfilled. Even Ezekiel's hole dribbled the cream of his Brothers; three loads in total stained his black fur. With the brotherhood's attention solely focused on the gallows, the elder took the lever in hand.

The two virgins, Raphael and Albert stood at either post beneath the gallows awaiting with rigid vigor to please the elder that would fall into heaven. They hoped, at least, if Ezekiel's body could withstand the drop; they would get to enjoy their time. If not, things would end quickly with a snapped neck.

Ezekiel's own shaft throbbed, not allowed to go over the peak, nails clutched the wood before he heard a snap. A short drop, his head vanished beneath the gallow floor only to be captured by the hand of God. His neck had not broken which garnered a unified howl from the Brothers; God had shown mercy.

Spittle hung from Ezekiel's open mouth, a crackle and spray of spit from a throat that struggled to breathe. An aerosol of spit blessed the virgins before him as that rope tightened further. The dog's head was forced to the side, as muscles began to jerk beneath short fur. The fight against death was vigorous and only made more provocative by the rows of scars that adorned his meaty frame. Tail pointed toward the ground just as his toes instinctively stretched toward it.

The pain Ezekiel felt was not dulled by the drugs that flowed through his body; it had been cut off to his brain. Immediately, he became aware of a swelling in his cheeks that continued to grow and spread over the entirety of his head. Strangled by God, that rope dug tighter into his neck ready to reclaim the shell and a piece of God that lived within it. Raphael and Albert approached, capturing the flailing dog's legs in their grasp. They did not assist Ezekiel in squirming out of the constriction but only stabilized the swinging dog.

Behind Ezekiel's blindfold were eyes wide with pain. The whites of each eye had become blood red as numerous vessels popped from the pressure. The elders missed watching that moment the eyes rolled back and exposed the eyes of God; nothing but blank, red sclera. However, it became tradition to blindfold during rituals when an esteemed guest found the sight to be too intense.

It made it easier for Raphael and Albert to begin their part in the ritual, stroking and licking at Ezekiel's shaft. His body continued to writhe and even seemed to respond to their affection. Body spasmed randomly before it arched and pushed hips forward as if to offer their manhood to them; begging them to free the spirit. Their muzzles were separated by hot, throbbing, dying cock; tongues touched as they lapped up everything the brother had to give them.

They knew the moment Ezekeil's mind lapsed into true unconsciousness as a renewed vigor began to course through the dog; brain death began to take hold. Raphael stepped away to secure Ezekiel's body and allowed Albert to fuck his throat on the massive meat. The dog's muzzle pushed forward and throated Ezekiel's length, suckling hard despite cutting his own flow of breath. The other Brother's cheered the pair on, but it was clear the two dogs were fully invested in their roles.

Raphael, at Ezekiel's back, was given a lewd show as all of Ezekiel's muscles as they rippled and shuddered beneath black velvet. The sporadic flexes and relaxes a mesmeric experience, to see pain and death up close and personal. His toes became slick with seed as the loads fucked into the dog's body leaked from that hot body. He could hear them squelch and squirt from the winking pucker. Raphael couldn't help himself and lifted Zeke's flailing tail with the bridge of his snout. He began to clean that pucker, eyes wide open and fixed on the strangling body of God. His tongue slid into that pucker and ate the cream within it; he felt every clench his Brother gave into death throes. It made his shaft throb between his own legs.

Albert gave shallow bobs of his head; feeling the dog's erection fill with blood with each second that passed. The knot began to swell outside of his lips. Albert looked up at Ezekiel and saw those blindfolded eyes staring down at him. Lines of drool dribbled from those lips while a purple tongue swelled out and over white canines. Ezekiel looked like he was at the height of Nirvana. It spurred Albert on. Ezekiel's chest and abdominal muscles seemed to sync up; just for a moment. Hot, thick sticky cream began to fill Albert's throat as the death seed and God entered his body. Some of the pearly fluid flowed over his black lips. It became too much and he pulled his mouth off, taking a thick rope across the face.

His ears lowered as some of the Brother's chuckled at the lewd display while others stood and bowed toward the nearly deceased Ezekiel. Their backs mirrored Albert's snout as they caught some of that load on their body. Raphael pulled his mouth away from Zeke's ass and stepped around to the front. Ezekeil no longer fought instinctively. The creep of total brain failure manifested as micro twitches and erratic jerks. There was still one gift left to gain from the shell. Albert cleaned his lips and stepped up behind Raphael.

Raphael barked in surprise as Albert began to stroke him off while humping his own shaft between virgin cheeks. The two clones basked in their blessings and pleasure as Ezekeil's shaft began to soften before them. The older clones knew what would come next, one approached Ezekiel and grabbed those hips to face them toward the pair. Another lifted the softening length and aimed it for Raphael. Raphael was too enraptured in pleasure and pain as his Brother's cock pierced his hole for the first time. The gasp allowed the acrid piss to be sucked into his lungs.

Ezekiel's body had sagged in the rope, neck bent and forever frozen in an unnatural position. His neck seemed longer pulled down by the weight of his body. His bladder began to release his piss, the second blessing that showered both Raphael and Albert in kind. Raphael coughed and choked, tasting the golden stream while Albert fucked like a feral dog.

The second round of the orgy had begun behind them as virginity was lost. The two clones were absolutely dripping by the time Ezekiel's stream ended. Raphael had fallen forward and used Ezekiel's corpse for support as Albert gaped his hole open. Legs bowed out, cock slapped his belly, and coated the ground in pre-seed; faith. The pair of elders that assisted them in aiming the final gifts at them both had taken up blades. Albert howled and shoved his knot into Raphael when he felt his back flesh cut for the first time. A flood of semen began to fill his brother, locked behind the fleshy bulb.

Below him, Raphael was in a blissful space, too enthralled in the ritual to make a noise as he received two slashes. One split his erect nipple while the other just missed it. Blood dribbled, tail spiked and arched while Albert continued to grind and unload. More slices were made at his back, no longer assisted by other's hands, willingly adding fresh wounds that would scab over. Raphael had released a hand and began to slice into his arm. The moment he felt the drag of the blade; like sandpaper or running a finger over a rough surface, did his own cock begin to spew. His cock erupted a healthy, pent-up, load to the ground below. Several ropes landed on Ezekiel's limp feet and dripped off lifeless claws. It was just as God wanted it, blessed be all shells that carried his way.