Vampire Hunter Boi (trap, yaoi, nunboi, mild violence, Catholicism?)

Inspired by the works of BDOne

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He stood there, tall and strong. His chest rose and fell in quick succession and his back was stiff and sweat dripped from exposed skin on his right arm and leg. Some fell to the golden weave of his collar, and a few drops of sweat even fell from his bare butt cheeks. His plump bottom was more exposed than not by the leotard he wore while performing his duties. All of them…

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As his breath calmed completely, the twenty one year old vampire slayer breathed deeply and let his eyes fall closed for a moment. He had survived the hunt, and ahead the first cracks of light began to shine through a hole in the roof and he knew dawn was coming. His brown cheeks pulled back into a smirk. And then they darkened a bit.

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‘I hope he’s proud of me…’ The boy thought, and went to retrieve the proof of his successful hunt. As he did his mind retraced how the night went. Because the only way to truly continue to have successful hunts was to never forget past triumphs and tribulations. To always remember his struggles, his trials, his training, and where it brought him. And, by the grace of God, where it would continue to take him.

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He had started the night standing before an old warehouse. His customized one sleeved leotard and single thigh high boot would leave most gold. But not Zahir! He’d trained his body to be precise and controlled. His heart beat strong and steady, and his hot hunters blood kept him warm. That and the memory of The Father…

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Zahir was not a short boy, he stood 5’8, and even taller in his combat heels! But even with those The Father always towered over him. A pillar of masculine might and representative of God’s love in this world. He had stood behind Zahir as he had completed his final preparations that night. The brown boy had been on his knees praying, and had felt The Father’s strong hands on his shoulders, and the man’s great love pressing into the back of his head as he rolled his rosary beads through his fingers. So much love, grinding against the back of his white wimple.

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He’d entered the warehouse weary, and alert. He’d left behind his wimple on the bike he’d been given by the church. He needed it off so as to give him complete peripheral vision. Even if he did look absolutely adorable in it. And pretty darn sexy… but that wasn’t what a holy boy nun of the Brotherhood of Saint Alexander should be thinking of. And of course it in no way influenced his choice to wear a body fitting legless leotard with a thong back, and only one leg and sleeve to better show off his athletic, nubile form.

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And it certainly had no influence in the design choice to have the thong bottom of the leotard be easily and quickly removed for easy access… No! Of course not. It was in case it had to be ripped away to escape from some evil beast. Or something. Either way his form fitting outfit left almost no room for equipment or weapons, but he didn’t need much. Just his own well trained body, and his whip.

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A whip was the perfect vampire killing weapon. Everyone knew that! Its cord was woven of blessed strands of leather, with silver wiring throughout to make it truly evil’s bane. The whip was elegant, surprising, and deadly. All things that could be used to describe Zahir as well… He shouldn’t be smiling at the thought, pride was a sin. But he was the best after all.

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He had just let the length of the vampire killing tool go loose when he sensed movement! He ducked, his dark well coiffed hair trailing just a few inches behind him. A few strands being snipped off by the force of the claws raking through the air. His legs spread out, and his bubble butt popped out from the quick movement. The next strike was aimed downwards. He seemed to spring to the side, legs coming together and his body twirling. And with a loud crack his whip came up!

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“Aaagh!” came the roar of pain and outrage from the creature. The whip had come up directly between the fork of its legs! Oh yes, Zahir had hit the Vampire where it never expected! The boy’s chin was raised, and his cocky smirk firmly in place.

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“You’ll have to be faster than that abomination.” It hissed at him. It never stood a chance, he was the most agile and dangerous of hunters. His body had been toned into a dangerous weapon by The Father’s strong hands. Those calloused fingers had helped push his body into many contortions and angles, inflicted force and pressure on him, and taught him all the best ways to use his momentum.

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This had also often been done while they were both nude from the waist down.

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“Hee-YAH!” His bare right arm moved again, and the whip flashed out. The beast tried to catch it, but Zahir had expected that. The cord wrapped around the monster’s hand, and the limb immediately began to sizzle. The creature’s cry of pain was quite satisfying. Zahir raised up his bare right leg, and stamped down on the whip while pulling it up with his hand. The motion pulled the monster down and forward, and its face was met by Zahir’s clothed left leg, the combat heel of his left booth stabbing into its right eye deeply.

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This time its cry of pain was more of a strangled helpless gasp. Zahir was an expert with his whip. He’d been taught all the ways of using such a weapon, as well as many techniques such as lassoing, and ways to tie up opponents and prey.

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He fondly remembered the many times The Father had bound him up in knots… His naked body wrapped in nothing but expertly tied strands. Tracing patterns across his chest and back, squeezing at his nipples, carefully placed around his groin, and tight on his bottom. His arms and legs pulled to awkward angles and sometimes left there to meditate on his predicament… and sometimes the Father would take these situations to put Zahir in more comfortable positions and mark his meditation with ritual penetration… er, penance?

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Sometimes he would even get rope burns from his struggles, and spasms. But then The Father would always be sure to see to his injuries with soothing balms and salves… And eventually Zahir would learn he didn’t need to be burned, only say that perhaps he had gotten a bit irritated in one spot on his body. No matter, the ever caring and eternally loving Father would still spend hours rubbing those lotions and creams into every spot on Zahir’s brown body. Oh those creams smelled lovely, left his skin radiant, and were amazing lubricants.

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When Zahir pulled his whip free several of the vampire’s fingers came with it. But they barely looked it, more like over cooked french fries after the exposure to the blessed weapon. It pulled its hand close to its body, and moved awkwardly. It’s left hand was badly injured, its right eye had been gouged out by Zahir’s hunting heels. No matter which side it presented to the boy, it had bloody openings in its defence.

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The beast readied its next trick, not an attack, but an age old bastion of Vampire power. It looked into the boy’s eyes, and its single one took on an unearthly glow. “You… Boy… you will obey… You will love me… You will… serrrrrveee ME.”

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The old monster’s hypnosis slammed into Zahir’s mind. Vampiric hypnosis, manipulation and control. One of the most nefarious of their weapons. Zahir went still… and he felt it there, that power. And then he thought of what else he felt. The blessing given to him by The Father. The Holy power his Beloved Father had imparted to him that night, like every night before a hunt… and most other nights just because, why not?

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His bottom throbbed, and he could feel the heat there. The warmth of the Father’s holy blessing! Put there, and sealed in with a special tool of the church… Namely a specially crafted Silver Buttplug, holding inside a massive cumshot the father had pumped into his shapely hunter’s ass less than an hour ago.

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The boy bit his lip as he remembered being on his knees, The Father’s cock deep inside his ass, and the man’s strong hands on his body. How the Father had gripped, and smacked his brown ass, while the other hand had hooked his mouth. Two fingers inside the boy’s cheek, spit leaking out as Zahir’s tongue lolled out in pleasure from the Holy blessing.

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Zahir’s eyes seemed to blaze as he shook off the attempted bewilderment and grinned at the monster in triumph, its power broken, its influence blown out like a candle before the holy storm!

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The lithe hunter approached, and the maimed beast retreated. It realized it was not the hunter, but he hunted. Zahir smirked, and the beast bared vicious fangs. Its canines were elongated, and before the boys eyes, every other tooth in its jaw changed to match. Its one remaining eye glowed red, and Zahir’s smirk vanished.

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This was it, the monster’s back was to the wall metaphorically. It felt cornered and would do what all cornered beasts do. Lash out.

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Its limbs seem to elongate, its jaw split open on the sides to show more fangs, and claws burst out several inches longer on its hands. Well, on its right anyway. The left just had an extra long thumb. Zahir put one leg back, and readied himself. The vampire sprang!

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“Hah!” The boy let out a cry, his arm flashing multiple times, and then he backflipped away. The beast was scored half a dozen times before it got close enough to make a massive swipe with its one good arm. Sizzling cuts opened up across its body, and one of the clawed fingers on its extended hand was taken off even. The final strike, amped up by the momentum of the boy’s backwards spring had come up at an angle and traced a line across the vampires stomach and chest.

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It was a terrible wound and fluid fell out of its belly, the remains of its last feeding. And with it, much of its strength. “Y-you… No.. I shan’t die by the hands of… a whore of the church.”

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Zahir’s eyes flashed, and then so did his whip. It lashed around the vampire’s neck and the beast’s only remaining eye went wide. “I’m not whore of the church, I’m a lover!” And empowered by the truth of his love for his God, his Church, and his Father! The boy gave a battle cry and with both hands pulled on his whip. In a flash of holy fire and a streak of dust and ash the monster’s head was pulled off.

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Zahir took some time after to stand and breathe. The last flurry of attacks and that great acrobatic dodge and counter had tensed his finely trained muscles as much as any olympic athlete, and sweat still ran down his brown skin. But he calmly lifted up the dark creature’s head.

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In the last moment of its life, both its still remaining eye and the one that had been removed by his combat heels had lit from within with holy fire. Its stump had been cauterized, but just a bit of blood leaked out from its mouth. The boy grimaced for a moment, then let his arm hang. He looked off to the coming light and thought only of returning to The Father.

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He would need to wrap the head up, the coming light would utterly destroy it. The Church would do that later after he had confirmed his work. He’d heard that you had to be careful, apparently some more recent strains of vampire had started to develop immunity to the old weaknesses as they became more social among humans. But this one had been a classic nosferatu. Heck, he’d probably be able to get away feeding garlic or something. But what kind of real hunter used garlic? Just silly.

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Off in the distance a sneaky blonde boy sneezed loudly.

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Zahir headed for the exit to the warehouse after wrapping up the head, and setting the body in the path of the approaching sun. The thought of tasty foods made Zahir wonder if perhaps the Father would give him one of his special Divine Blessings… The brown boy nun licked his lips as he got his wimple back on, kicked the stand of his bike and drove into the morning. His plump bottom lifted up in excitement on his seat, and just the faint edges of a silver plug showing around his thong.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/lfsxs4/vampire_hunter_boi_trap_yaoi_nunboi_mild_violence