The Mormon leadership makes a regular practice of interviewing and questioning the young men of their ward. Making sure each boy is living by the proper code of conduct and discipline is routine priesthood. President Ballard loves watching as the boys navigate through their responses, trying to craft their answers in the space between what’s honest and what’s expected. The real magic happens when he can press them harder and see their true character emerge.
President Ballard knew well what had transpired between Calhoun and Brother Strang; he just wanted to see the young man wrestle with his confession. After a series of interrogations about his sexual history, the most he got was an admission that he’d had sex before with girls before his mission. But the young ward mission leader would not volunteer much else, so the older man told Brother Calhoun that the two would meet privately at the temple. Brother Calhoun had been through several interviews, but he’d never been as nervous as he was then. Not only was the older man intimidating and commanding, but the young man knew he could never talk about the homosexual activity he’d been a part of. And why was he meeting President Ballard at the temple?
In the Mormon church, homosexuality was a sin unlike many others. He knew the punishment would be severe if it ever came out, and he’d been guilty of it more than once. Even though the first time was not his choice, he found himself fighting it off less in the end than when it started. This confused him greatly, and the last thing he wanted to do was talk about it with the leadership. “Stand up,” President Ballard ordered, his husky voice echoing in the quiet room. The only thing that seemed louder was Calhoun’s heart pounding beneath his chest in fear. He did as he was told, hoping his obedience would quicken his meeting. “Take your pants off,” the president continued, locking eyes with the nervous Mormon.
Surprised, Calhoun looked at the older man, less in defiance and more in shock and concern. “I don’t think–” “–You heard me,” Ballard interrupted. “Take your pants off.” Brother Calhoun hesitated, but could see the man was determined and serious in his request. He began to unbuckle his belt, the metal jingling in his shaking hands. The trauma of his encounter with Brother Strang left him guarded and cautious, and the idea of stripping down for this strange man was reminder of that first aggressive attack. As his pants fell, he felt himself lose his power once again and his mind became further clouded with confusion. “Come over here.”
Calhoun obeyed, every step delayed and full of apprehension. Once he was standing next to the older man, President Ballard was quick to lift up his shirt to get at his underwear, pulling them down to reveal his genitals. Then, to the surprise of both men, Brother Calhoun was shown to have a nearly full erection beneath his garments. President Ballard lifted up the boy’s shirt more, giving him a better look at his penis and stomach. He ran his hands all over him, feeling the smoothness of his flesh. He carefully took the boy’s member into his hand, feeling the size and weight of it as if he was inspecting a piece of produce. He squeezed his testicles gently, rolled them between his fingers, and gently tugged on the boy’s growing shaft.
He turned him around to get a view of his lightly-haired buttocks. Similarly, he took his time viewing the tenderness and shape of his backside, running his fingers between his cheeks, getting a sense of his ass’s quality. All the while, Brother Calhoun felt his body become aroused. His breaths deepened, his face flushed, his penis hardened, and his skin became more sensitive. Why was this happening, he asked himself. Why am I getting turned on? “Get up on the desk,” Ballard ordered, standing now behind his shaking subject. Brother Calhoun climbed up on top of the furniture as requested, slow to bring his butt up to the air. He trembled at the thought of this man touching him there. The only other time a man had taken his hole it was rough and painful and unwanted.
President Ballard, of course, continued to touch his butt, but he also became fixated on the boy’s low hanging testicles. He enjoyed seeing how they moved, knowing the seed they carried inside. It was exciting for him to see a young man so close to his peak masculinity.Brother Calhoun calmed down somewhat as the man’s touch was soft and sensual. It was nothing like the way Brother Strang had manhandled him. The older man’s beard grazed his cheeks as he explored his body, getting in close to smell and taste his vulnerable genitals. As President Ballard sensed the young man relaxing, he moved to the front of him and placed his fingers inside his mouth. Calhoun hardly moved, locked on all fours as if he was trapped in his body. He remained still and passive as the president continued to touch him and probe him. Palms and fingers explored every part of him, moving from his tongue to his back to his hole.
“Now, get on your knees.” Brother Calhoun got down on the ground as he watched the older man begin to remove his belt and pants. He looked up at the older man, finding him more handsome and powerful than he had when he first came into the room. When the president revealed his cock, his eyes widened. Seeming to burst from his garments, President Ballard’s cock seemed to swell with the girth of a tin can. It was nearly as wide as Brother Calhoun’s wrist, emerging from a patch of dark pubic hair.
“Take it into your mouth,” Ballard said, just slightly louder than a whisper. He gently pushed the boy’s face close to it, feeling the warmth of the boy’s nervous breaths hit his penis. He continued to guide him on the end of his member, watching the boy struggle mentally and physically to do as he was told. It was an intoxicating feeling to have this boy service him, pushing him past the limits of his comfort to satisfy him. He knew his insides were twisting up, and he knew he to straighten them out. Bringing the boy to his feet, he bent him over the desk, arching his back so his beautiful, round ass stuck out for him. The older man pulled some oil from the inside the desk and stroked it on his massive member.
Brother Calhoun knew was what coming and knew he could not stop it. His body was somehow outside of his control and completely forfeited to the president’s wishes. His cock grew harder with the inevitability of his penetration. Just then, he felt the wide, warm, wet head of President Ballard’s erection press hard against his hole. His body tensed as oil ran against his skin. The older man pressed a hand on his back, easing him down as he pushed his thick cock inside. Calhoun took shallow breaths, trying to get through the anal invasion. Clutching onto the edge of the desk, he resigned himself to the man’s cock and relaxed his hole. In a steady motion, he felt his body open up and receive the man’s fullness.
Calhoun couldn’t believe it. He was enjoying it. It wasn’t hard and angry like it was with Brother Strang. It was actually somewhat comforting. He felt President Ballard holding onto him, filling him and fucking him. “I’ve got you,” he said softly, like he was taking care of him. And as Ballard pushed him harder, Calhoun found himself eager to feel the older man’s cum pour inside him…
