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Olivine’s about to lose his goddamn mind.
First, it was the tea.
Olivine was consoling a member of the church. His father was sick and his marriage was strained, and he wasn’t making enough money to make ends meet. He had come to the church seeking spiritual guidance, and Olivine was always happy to help. He listened to the man’s story and gave him a handkerchief to wipe his tears.
“Shall I make us some tea?” he offered.
The man sniffled and nodded his head. “Yes, please. Thank you, Father Olivine.”
“It’s no trouble at all,” Olivine replied with a smile. He got up from the table they were sitting at and walked to the kitchen.
Despite having just made some for himself that morning, the tea was nowhere to be found. He remembered exactly where he left it, and yet it was not there. He cocked his eyebrow in confusion. He opened the upper cabinets to find himself out of luck. He tried the lower cabinets- still, no tea. He searched through the drawers, and even looked in the trash bin, but did not find what he was looking for.
He huffed, ready to admit defeat and offer the man something else instead. He turned back to the counter and-
There was the tea. Sitting exactly where he had left it this morning.
“…How strange,” Olivine mumbled to himself. He picked up the tin and poured the contents into the strainer, going about his usual routine of preparing it.
He made two cups and returned to the table where the man sat, placing his guest’s down in front of him.
“Thank you,” the man repeated. Olivine sat back down across from him. The man brought the cup to his lips, but stopped before taking a sip, looking down into it with confusion.
“Is there…something wrong?” Olivine asked.
“Oh, it’s nothing, it’s just…what kind of tea is this, Father Olivine?”
Olivine’s features twisted in confusion. “It’s standard loose-leaf black tea…” he then looked down into his own cup, to see a bright green liquid staring back at him. He gasped aloud. It hadn’t been that color when he was making it…had it? Leaning down to smell it, he noticed a strong scent of salt. “I have no idea what happened,” he said. He looked to the man apologetically. “My deepest apologies, I seem to have made the wrong kind…”
“It’s all right, Father Olivine. You must have a lot on your mind.”
The two set their cups aside, untouched, and continued their conversation. Although, Olivine was not certain that he was giving the best advice he possibly could, as his mind kept drifting back to the bizarre tea event, wondering just what had transpired. Regardless, the dialogue continued, and the man left with hope in his heart.
After he left and Olivine waved him off with a blessing, the priest turned back to take the teacups and dump their contents.
Their contents, which, to his eyes now, seemed to be completely regular black tea. He lifted one and smelled it, confirming that it was his usual blend. He took a sip and tasted that there was nothing amiss whatsoever.
He dumped the cups regardless, and retired to his room to rest his befuddled mind and senses.
…
Next, it was the offerings.
It was nighttime, after a long day of sermons held both in the morning and the evening. It was a special day, too: the day that all the wealthy nobles make it a point to come to church and keep up appearances. This meant that there was far more money in the collection plate than usual. The young priest-in-training whose job it was to count the money that night had fallen ill, and Father Olivine stepped up to fill the shift himself.
By the light of the lantern, Olivine sorted through the basket of coins. His tired eyes struggled to make out the differences between the types of coin, so it was taking him longer than it otherwise might have. Regardless, he was always happy to do his duty for the church.
After examining a gold coin, verifying its value, and jotting it down on his paper, he went to place it in the basket for already-counted coins. But as he lowered his hand, he saw that a leaf had somehow wound up in the basket.
He blinked, and the leaf was gone. His tired mind must have imagined it.
He continued with his work, moving coins from Basket 1 to Basket 2, summing the value as he did so.
Then, he saw a leaf again.
No…the entire basket was full of leaves.
He shook his head and blinked, hoping it was another trick of his mind. But this time, the leaves remained. He dug through the basket, to see if any money remained beneath, but to no avail. It was as if every single coin had been replaced with a leaf.
Frantic, Olivine looked around. He couldn’t have absentmindedly misplaced the church’s funds, could he? And where did all these leaves come from? He looked under the basket, under the table, under the chair he sat on, but the offerings were nowhere to be found.
He sat back down, dumbstruck. Had he just hallucinated counting coins for an hour? Had he not actually started on his task?
He looked into the first basket, the one for holding the uncounted money, and found it, too, full of leaves.
…What is going on?!
Panic-stricken, Olivine rose from his chair again. He glanced around the room once more, finding no sign of the missing funds. He opened the door, hoping that somehow an answer to his predicament would be standing right outside.
At that moment, an elder priest happened to be walking past.
“Father Cerris!”
“Ah, Father Olivine!” the old priest smiled. “I trust you are having a pleasant evening?”
Olivine bit his lip nervously. “Actually, I’m having a bit of trouble counting the offerings…”
“Trouble? How so?”
Olivine weighed his options. He knew he was going to sound crazy- but what was a worse fate? Risking a moment of embarrassment, or losing a vast amount of funds that the church desperately needed? Making up his mind, he steeled himself. “The offerings…well, you see, they…disappeared.”
Father Cerris’s face fell serious. “Disappeared?”
“Well- maybe not disappeared, but, transformed? Were replaced?”
“Show me.”
Olivine let the older priest into the small room where he had been working. He turned to face him and wrung his hands nervously. What would he say? Would he accuse Olivine of stealing the money? Or-
“Everything seems in order to me.”
Huh?
Looking at the table, Olivine could see that the baskets did, in fact, contain an assortment of metallic coins. No leaves were anywhere to be seen.
“But…just a moment ago…the offerings, they were…”
Father Cerris looked at Olivine with an expression of worry and sympathy. “Are you feeling quite all right, Father Olivine?”
“I…” Olivine knew what he saw. And he may have been tired, but he checked far too many times for it to have been a mistake.
“Why don’t I have someone else count the funds? You should retire to your room for some rest.”
Olivine breathed out, his face twinging red with embarrassment. “I…I will.”
He turned to leave, feeling wrecked to the core that he couldn’t help with such a simple task.
“Oh, Olivine?”
He turned back around. “Yes?”
Father Cerris lifted something out of the basket- a pale violet plant. “A foxtail. How interesting! I wonder how it got in there. Here, why don’t you take it back to your room. Something nice to look at while you rest.”
Olivine’s eyes widened. He dumbly took the foxtail with a subdued “thank you,” and left to his room.
As soon as he was in room, he looked at the plant in his hand, and began to think that the recent happenings weren’t just coincidence.
He crushed it in his palm and threw the remains in the trash.
…
Finally, it was the communion wine.
The morning service was about to end. As Olivine gave the rites, the faithful lined up to receive their libations. Once reseated in the pews, they listened with rapt attention as the priest recited the traditional prayer.
“…And to thou whose faith shall not be shaken, thy cup overfloweth.”
“Thy cup overfloweth,” repeated the congregation.
They lifted their glasses to their lips and drank the wine.
What should have happened next is as such: Olivine would finish the prayer with a succinct “Amen,” the congregation would repeat “Amen,” and after the singing of a closing hymn, the service would conclude, and the churchgoers would retire to their afternoon plans.
However, what did happen is as such: as Olivine opened his mouth to finish the prayer, a scream suddenly rang out through the chapel.
“Good God! What is that?!”
A woman shrieked and pointed towards the stained glass window at the front of the church. Olivine turned around, green magic already gathering around his hands to defend against the intruder.
However, there was no intruder to be seen.
Not by Olivine, at least.
Another scream- a gentleman towards the front jumped up on top of the pew. He stared with horror at the empty floor below him. “What are those?! They’re disgusting!”
The entire chapel descended into chaos. Left and right, people were screaming with horror at terrifying sights that only they could see. Some jumped on top of the pews, others dove below them to hide, many ducked their heads and lifted their holy books above them.
“Everyone! Please, calm down!”
But Olivine’s voice could not be heard over the volume of the screams.
A child ran up to him, weeping profusely. “Father Olivine, save me! It ate my mommy!”
Olivine looked to where the child was pointing to see the child’s mother shrieking and grasping at her own face, nails digging into unseen flesh.
“Illusions…” Olivine breathed to himself.
Gathering all his magical might, he prepared to launch a spell that would set everyone’s minds back in reality. He charged the attack for a few moments, before extending his arms with a shout. Waves of light blasted from him, and covered the entire room.
After a few moments, the screams began to subside as the churchgoers opened their eyes to see that any threat had vanished. Deep breaths were heaved; members clutched their chests to calm their racing hearts.
“Mommy!!!” the child cried, letting go of Olivine’s robes and running up to embrace his- very much uneaten- mother.
Olivine let out a sigh of relief that his spell had worked. He turned around, clutching the amphora of wine that sat on the altar behind him. Giving it a sniff, the source of the disruption became clear.
“Dark magic…”
He had had an inkling before of who might be tormenting him, but now he was sure. He turned back to face the congregation.
“Everyone, everything is fine, you are all safe, it was Dark illusion magic…if anyone needs assistance with the sights you experienced, priests will be available in the confessional section today… I am so sorry this happened.”
There was confusion and aimless milling about for a bit, a few people came up to ask Olivine what had happened, but he told them that he wouldn’t know until he fully investigated the incident. Eventually, the chapel emptied of all but the green-haired priest himself.
…Now he stands alone in the chapel. His friendly face falls into an angry expression.
“Show yourself.” He speaks aloud to the empty room.
There is no response.
“Show yourself,” Olivine repeats, a stern command born of fury. “I know you’re still here. You wouldn’t play these games without seeing them to fruition.”
After a few moments, a sound like a swirl of magic sounds directly behind him. Olivine turns around, and comes face-to-face with a grinning yokai.
“Hello, Father,” Kuya says with a wicked smile.
Olivine’s fists clench at his sides. He is barely able to restrain the ire in his voice. “Tormenting me is one thing. Making me doubt my senses and look like a fool in front of others is one thing. But causing a great deal of harm to the entire congregation is wholly another.”
Kuya sighs performatively and rolls his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Father. I didn’t cause any harm to anyone.”
Olivine gestures to the room, indicating the crisis that just occurred there. “This is your idea of not causing harm?!”
“No one was hurt.”
“Not physically, no, but…” Olivine shakes his head. “I don’t care how ‘bored’ you are. I command you to leave the faithful of the Church of Klein alone, and to cease your…activities here, at once.”
Kuya barks out a laugh. “Hah!” He circles the priest in a predatory fashion. He leans in, lips almost making contact with Olivine’s ear. “Oh? You ‘command’ me to? And just how do you plan on stopping me, Father Olivine?”
With a snap of his fingers, Olivine sharply turns around and ensnares Kuya in a magical set of bindings. Green, glowing ropes have appeared all around Kuya’s body. Kuya falls to his knees, his arms tied behind his back and an intricate criss-crossing pattern adorning his torso.
Kuya giggles. “You do know I can easily break these, surely?”
Olivine grabs a handful of purple hair and yanks, leaning in to the yokai’s ear as he does so. “I know you can. But you won’t.”
“Oh? And what makes you so sure?” Kuya has not stopped smirking the entire time, despite being bound on the ground with magic.
“Because I think you wanted this,” Olivine says lowly. “You wanted to play with me. To see what it would take to get me to snap. Well, now your question will be answered.”
Kuya would be a little annoyed with the fact that the priest read his intentions so easily, if this situation hadn’t turned out so damn interesting. “Well then, little priest,” Kuya says, dripping with false sweetness. “Answer my question. What happens when an obedient little thing like yourself snaps?”
“This,” Olivine answers, as he harshly shoves two fingers in the kitsune’s mouth, blunt nails lightly scraping against his soft palate. “Tell me,” he says, “are you familiar with the Commandments of Klein?”
Kuya rolls his eyes. How does he expect him to answer with fingers in his mouth? Regardless, he shakes his head no.
“You’ve been alive for centuries, and yet you never once took it upon yourself to read the Holy Book?” Olivine shoves his fingers deeper into Kuya’s throat, making the latter gag slightly. “Pitiful.” Olivine continues to thrust his fingers against Kuya’s tongue. He leans in close and whispers: “Then consider this your first lesson.”
Olivine pulls his fingers out of Kuya’s mouth, and Kuya’s rough voice comes out: “Teach me, Father.”
Olivine’s eyes lock onto the altar directly behind where Kuya is kneeling. He spots an ornamental silken sash that will serve well for what he plans to do next. He grabs it, and quickly inserts it into Kuya’s mouth, tying it around his head to effectively gag him.
“Please hold all comments until after the sermon, thank you.”
Next, Olivine reaches behind the altar to withdraw a bag containing some of his personal belongings. “I had initially planned on traveling to the mansion today after my sermon, but…” he reaches in and pulls out three items, showing them to Kuya as he does. “…seeing as there is now a situation to deal with here, I suppose my plans for Eiden will have to wait.”
The first two items, Kuya recognizes instantly: a butt plug, and a cock ring, both in the same shade of emerald green. It’s obvious what Olivine’s “plans for Eiden” had entailed. The third item, however, leaves Kuya puzzled but intrigued: a pendant in the shape of a four-point star.
“Clothes off,” Olivine demands, knowing full well that Kuya is capable of complying. In the space of a moment, Kuya’s clothing vanishes from his body, leaving him completely exposed.
Olivine quickly inserts his fingers- still moist from Kuya’s saliva- into Kuya’s asshole. He works him open just enough to be able to insert the plug. Kuya grunts at the intrusion, but allows it. Truly, he could stop this at any moment he chooses to. But this side of Olivine is just so tantalizing, so unexpected, that Kuya can’t bring himself to disrupt it.
While Kuya had been thinking to himself, Olivine had made quick work of fastening the cock ring around the base of Kuya’s dick. Now, satisfied with the sight before him, Olivine stands back up, the pendant in his hand, and sighs contentedly. “Now, the lesson can commence.”
He grabs a hold of Kuya’s hair and yanks backwards, forcing the yokai to look up at him. “The first Commandment is…
“Thou shalt obey.”
Olivine injects some essence into the crystal pendant, and both the butt plug and the cock ring begin to vibrate. Kuya makes a noise somewhere between a gasp and a whine in the back of his throat as his body jolts at the sudden sensation.
Olivine’s face gets closer to Kuya’s. “You aren’t very good at obeying, are you? Well, you are going to obey me for the rest of this lesson. Understood?”
Olivine increases the intensity of the vibrations, causing Kuya to let out an undignified keen behind the gag.
“Good.”
The vibrations slow down again, giving Kuya a chance to breathe.
“Now, the second Commandment is…
“Thou shalt live thy life with temperance.”
Olivine snaps the fingers of his hand not holding the crystal, and the magical restraints on Kuya’s body tighten. Kuya cries out, a stray tear escaping from his eye. He is being squeezed so tightly, he is having difficulty breathing, and the lessening of oxygen to his brain conjures a delicious fuzzy feeling throughout his entire being.
“Hm…of all the words I could use to describe you, ‘temperate’ is not one of them.”
The restraints start to tighten even further- slowly, this time. Constricting, squeezing the air from his lungs, his vision blackening around the edges, the pressure increasing, increasing, increasing…
Until it stops. The restraints quickly loosen, back to their original tension, giving Kuya a chance to take a giant breath in through his nose.
He doesn’t get too long of a chance to relax, though.
“The third commandment is…
“Thou shalt sing songs of praise with joyful noise.”
Suddenly, a sharp, burning pain pierces through the skin on Kuya’s shoulders. Kuya cries out. It’s muffled through the gag, but beautiful to hear nonetheless. Tears in his eyes, he glances to the side to see that Olivine, while Kuya had been busy trying not to die of suffocation, had retrieved a candle from the altar, and was now dripping hot wax onto Kuya’s skin.
“You can do better than that,” Olivine says. “Let me hear your joyful noise.”
He drips more hot wax onto Kuya- this time, directly onto his nipples. Kuya cries out again, a high-pitched wail echoing throughout the empty chapel.
Olivine smiles. “What a beautiful melody.” He drips one last drop onto Kuya’s tender chest, receiving a whimper for his efforts, and puts the candle back on the altar.
Kuya takes a moment to blink the tears from his eyes. His vision clears up just in time to see Olivine unzipping his pants, withdrawing his hard cock from its confines.
Olivine’s empty hand strokes himself, as the one holding the pendant comes around to the back of Kuya’s head, pulling the knot in the sash loose without dropping anything.
Obstruction gone, he brings his cock to Kuya’s lips. “The fourth commandment is…
“Thou shalt commit thyself to service.”
He shoves his cock all the way into Kuya’s mouth. He pants slightly at the incredible feeling. “You have been nothing but self-serving your whole life. Now, it is your turn to service another.” He nods his head, making it clear what Kuya should do.
Kuya begins to suck on Olivine’s cock, massaging the sides as best he can with his tongue. He doesn’t even have it in him to fight for dominance with a drag of his teeth- he simply commits himself to obeying the order to service the other.
After a while, Olivine grabs the back of Kuya’s head, and begins rhythmically thrusting into his mouth, effectively fucking his face. He begins panting hard, losing himself in the pleasure of the other’s wet warmth. The essence input to the crystal increases, increasing the vibration level to Kuya’s dick and ass, making him moan around the priest’s own cock. Olivine moans in return, the feeling building up inside of him.
“Haahh…ahh…” Olivine groans. “The…fifth commandment is…ngh…
“Thou shalt not waste.”
He thrusts harder into Kuya’s mouth, hitting the back of his throat on every buck of his hips. “Hah…you…you discard things…as soon as they are no longer interesting to you…but now…you will…ha- ah! Take what you are given…and…not waste a drop…!”
Olivine cums hard into Kuya’s mouth, who greedily drinks up his release. The priest keeps thrusting into the kitsune until his orgasm has subsided in its entirety.
He pulls his dick out of Kuya’s mouth, Kuya continuing to lick at it the entire way out.
“Hah…ah…” Olivine catches his breath. But the vibrations of the toys attached to Kuya have not slowed down in the slightest. “Those are…the five Commandments of Klein. Now let’s review what you’ve learned…” Olivine says breathlessly.
Kuya is now panting out little moans and grunts, the pleasure nearly unbearable after having been on the edge for so long. Olivine leans into his ear.
“Tell me…what is the first Commandment of Klein?”
“It’s…the first Commandment…is…” Kuya sucks up the spit threatening to escape his lips. “Thou shalt obey.”
“Good, good,” Olivine whispers. “Now show me how well you obey. I’m adding a new commandment.” He bites the shell of Kuya’s ear before breathing out his last command:
“Thou shalt cum for me.”
“Hgk- Gah!” Kuya cums. Hard. His semen flies up so high some of it lands on his own cheek. His whole body shakes as he rides out the intense orgasm, letting out animalistic noises of pleasure the whole way through.
After an eternity, he comes down. He realizes that Olivine has dismissed the magic restraints, and is now leaning down to remove the plug and cock ring. Kuya heaves deep breaths, calming his racing heart after the intense experience.
Olivine casts a spell to instantly clean the toys. He’s used up a lot of magic today, but the essence replenishment he just received from the yokai more than makes up for it. He looks down at Kuya, still kneeling and speechless. “Your question is answered,” he says. “I take it you won’t feel the need to torment my congregation any further?”
Kuya chuckles breathlessly. He slowly stands up, summoning his clothes to once again cover his form. “No,” he says, straightening the front of his robe. He looks Olivine up and down with a smirk. “Tormenting you, on the other hand…well, we’ll see about that.”
“What do you-“
But Kuya is gone.
Or, he looks to be, as Olivine hears one final whisper before the voice completely fades into nothingness:
“Thank you for the most interesting lesson, Father. I look forward to showing you what I’ve learned in the future.”