I often remember the beginning…

I was the third of three sons. My father was a merchant in a small village near the sea. I had been alive for 13 summers. Two summers earlier, father decided that I would become a priest and serve the Pope in Rome. As such, I resided with other boys and young men at a special compound run by the Church to train us, first as accolytes, and later as priests.

One spring day, there was much activity. We were expecting a visit that day from a "red hat", a Cardinal from Rome. I had carried buckets of hot water since day break from the communal fire pit to the bathing area, where the priests had been cleansing themselves in preparation.

Finally the Cardinal arrived. Whilst he was granting an audience to the priests and local officials, I had donned my choir robe and stood with the other boys in the choir loft, awaiting the start of mass. I had a solo part to sing that day, and the choir master was most anxious that I did well.

Finally it was to me to sing. I raised my voice to God and sang with all of my energy. I reached all of the highest notes with ease.

Later, I was summoned to the Cardinal’s room. He praised me for my voice, and told me he had selected me to accompany him to Rome. I was to become part of the papal boy’s choir at St. Peter’s. I was overjoyed. My father was very proud, and blest. The Cardinal also told me I was to become his valet in Rome. I would responsible to make sure his bath was ready each evening, and that his clothes were clean and ready each morning. I would also help him bathe and dress as he asked.

To train me immediately for my new duties, the Cardinal requested that I fetch hot water for his bath. After I made several trips, his bathing tub was filled with water. He then told me to help him remove his boots, which were quite muddy from our compound. In turn, I pulled each boot free from each foot. I was streaked with mud. After I helped him to remove his garments, he told me to remove my frock. I removed the garment and stood naked before him. I had not yet taken to wearing a loin strap, although my private area had recently started to develop. What used to be a small thin carrot had grown in length and diameter and was now nearly as long as my outstretched hand and twice as round as my finger. The small olive sized bumps that used to be pulled firmly against my skin beneath my carrot had grown to the size of unshelled pecans and hung in a skin sack below my sausage down nearly as far as my sausage was long. A few strands of soft brown hair had adorned my skin just ab!

ove where the sausage joined my body.

The Cardinal was standing before me, naked. He had substantial hair all over his body, and his sausage was very hard and stiff. It was very long and quite thick. This was not a surprise to me. I had seen most of the priests in our compound in this same state during the summers I had been clositered there. On many occassions I had also attended to their needs in their beds at night. Often, on the eve of taking vows for the priesthood, the older boy would select a younger boy to share his bed. Due to my appearance, and willingness, I was always the first chosen. I had learned that often the older boy was inexperienced in matters, so I would lead him through the seduction. This usually involved getting the soon to be priest to remove his clothing, and then for him to lay face up on his mat. I would then coax his sausage to life, then slowly lower my naked self onto his manhood. Most would spew their seed into my bowels numerous times during the night, and often I would remain!

engorged for the entire night.

The Cardinal climbed into the tub of water, then beckoned me to join him. He told me to remain standing while he reached down and took water into a cup. He poured the water onto various parts of my body. He then took the soap bar and began cleaning my skin. He had cleaned every where else when he took my sausage in his hand. He gently pushed the skin back until the head was exposed and he applied the soap. He rinsed the soap and dirt off of my sausage then he applied soap to my buttocks and to the hole between them. He gave me the cup and soap and I cleansed him.

A knock on the door of the Cardinal’s room startled me. I went to the door and took two cups of hot water, and a handfull of tea from the servant. The Cardinal came and took both from me and suggested I get into the tub while he prepared the tea.

He returned to the tub and sat down. I started to sit at the other end of the tub, by his feet, but he told me to sit on his legs where they joined his body. He then gave me the cup of tea and told me to drink. When we had both drank the tea, he asked me to lift my buttocks from his lap. As I did, he repositioned his man rod, then asked me to take him into my bowels. He told me that this would also be my duty in Rome.

I can only remember him entering my magic gate. All the remainder of that night is darkness. I remember awakening in the morn and that I felt very sore between my legs. At first I thought that it was because of the size of the Cardinal’s manhood. But then, as I reached down to rub around the soreness, I discovered that the bag of skin with the pecans, that usually hung below my sausage, was missing. I could feel my sausage, and the tuft of hair at its base, but my fingers could only find sore, flat skin below.

Suddenly the Cardinal was by my side. He told me that during the night he had removed my sack and pecans so that my singing voice would never change. He told me that he had given me the Pope’s blessing for my sacrifice.

For many years I sang for the Pope, and my voice never deepened. During that time I spent nearly every night in the Cardinal’s bed. I discovered soon after arriving in Rome, that I could still achieve the magnificant feeling in my loins, that I had with the older boys years earlier, but only after I had the Cardinal’s man rod buried deep within me, and only after I had repeatetly pushed down and pulled back with my buttocks.

Until yesterday, the day he died, the Cardinal would spill his seed into me every night, and on some occasions twice every night.

oldspark@hotmail.com