Rev. Dr. Dr. V. Miller Fr. Cassian Newton pulled his dick out of the ass of the corpse he had been fucking. He bent over and stuck his nose close to the jizz-filled anus of the dead boy, catching a whiff of putrifying flesh, and smiled. "Such a wonderful way to begin a day" he thought to himself, and began dressing in his priest costume, stopping only to turn on the TV in his office, which was showing a gay porn flick that he had left in the DVD player. After a couple of minutes, he got dressed and called out, "Ruth Ann--I'm ready!", a cry which was heeded by Ruth Ann Newton opening his office door, one hand full of dog shit. She pulled up his robe and began smearing the feces over Virgil's tiny member, then reached up her skirt and smeared her twat lips with the remainder of the canine crap. This was the ritual they used to begin a day at Christ At the Sea Church, a ritual that was not complete until Ruth Ann inserted a straw in the ass of the corpse and began felching Virgil's cum through it.
Miller always liked to watch Ruthie slurping his jizz---it reminded him of the old days, back when he could get a hard-on with her. Nowadays, only animals, corpses, and shit turned him on enough to get it up.
Ruthie finished slurping Miller's jizz out of the dead boy's ass, walked over to Miller and gave him a deep tongue kiss, during which she passed Miller's spunk over to his mouth. Miller felt an inward glow of joy as he tasted his own semen, mixed with the dead boy's rotting anal flavor. He smiled at Ruthie and walked out into the sanctuary. It was time to do the Lord's work.
Miller walked into the sanctuary of his "church" and stood behind the pulpit. He began the Mass by saying a few words to the empty pews that lined the room. He masturbated with his right hand, using the dog shit as a lubricant, and continued to preach about the evils of drugs to the empty room. Ruthie entered from the side vestibule and began to finger herself as Miller poured them each a glass of communion wine. They slammed down glass after glass and began reminiscing about the great times they had abusing children at Straight, Inc. and KIDS of North Jersey. This got Miller aroused, and he began to play with himself again, having just enough dog shit left on his dick to use as a lube.
Ruth Ann Newton knelt down beside the pulpit in time for Miller to give her a facial. She smiled and said "God bless the both of us" before getting up to leave through the vestibule door she had entered through. This left Miller alone for a while, to contemplate the majesty he felt at being one of God's chosen few--- a man selected by the Lord to do the great work of abusing children in the name of saving them from drugs. He wiped himself off and used the last bit of dog feces to make a cross on his forehead, then stripped off his robe and pranced nude through the sanctuary, spinning and dancing as he began to sing "Rainbow Made of Children". He thought of how nice it would be to have a rainbow full of children to abuse to death, after which he would have sex with all of their corpses.
Miller staggered back into his office, stopping only to grab the bottle of communion wine he had left on the altar. "Gotta remember to jack off into this before Sunday-- Sembler, Yarnold, Peterman, and a couple of ex-Staff are coming here for Mass" he thought to himself as he swayed into his office.
Once back in his leisure clothes, he got on the phone to a gay chat line and sketched out the projected figures of the "faith-based" funding he was hoping to receive. If his pals at DFAF were right, he'd be able to open the new teen rehab he wanted in a United States possession and not in the US itself. That way, he would be outside of the influence of troublesome social workers and bureacrats. Intrigued, he pulled a bottle of gin from his desk and took a few pulls.
His bliss was short-lived, however, interrupted by the sounds of screams and dogs fiercely growling that emanated from the office next to his--Ruthie's office. Miller pulled a .38 revolver from his desk drawer and ran into the hallway, the screams from Ruthie's office ringing in his ears. He opened the door to see Ruthie being torn to shreds by a pack of five wild-looking pit bulls. Before his very eyes, Ruthie was being shredded by the vicious canines, blood and entrails splattering as they devoured her vital organs. He raised the gun and pulled the trigger---CLICK. The chamber was empty and the dread that resounded through him rang just as hollow in his chest. Sharp pain ran through his groin as a pair of savage jaws fastened themselves onto his crotch. Only then did he realize that his scream was a lone one, the screams that had preceeded it having been reduced to a whimpering gurgle. Pain and fear shot through him, and the world went black.
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The Survivors were having a party. "Damn that was cool, releasing those rabid pit bulls in Miller's church" said one, doing a bong hit from Ruthie's skull, exhaling a cloud of TBPITW smoke, "that's the most fun I've had in weeks".
"Yes it was", agreed another, "and it's a damn good thing we took a page from Bradbury's playbook and broke in first--the whole thing would have gone to Hell if we hadn't unloaded Virgil's revolver". She took a pull off of a bottle of Dom Perignon and passed it to her left as the Ruthie-skull bong was passed to her, after being refilled with a fresh hit of TBPITW.
And they lived happily ever after
