Hell and Its Pleasures: A Prince of Lust Story by Lucien Burr

Author:Lucien Burr [Burr, Lucien]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-06-09T00:00:00+00:00

Four

Iwas out of the lesser demon’s range—or realm, as I imagined it was. It no longer whipped me, and the fog had moved in a way that once again I had been cut off from everything. Opaque and impenetrable, I could see nothing that would direct me to Asmodeus or my purpose, and instead I had returned to that desolate and solemn loneliness I had first encountered when entering Hell.

In this moment I sat and ruminated. The feelings I had were complex and layered. Shame still drowned me. Every time I thought of Bishop Jonah, I shivered. I couldn’t be sure now about any memory I had of him. Had I always been attracted to him? Had the blasphemy and the corruption of an otherwise sexually innocent relationship been the thing to turn me on?

It was the blasphemy, wasn’t it? I fiddled with my hands and closed my eyes, trying to ignore my nakedness the way Adam and Eve must have tried. In a way, this was my own Genesis. What I was learning of myself now I had never had cause to learn before.

I thought: if you are this person, who enjoys being degraded, who enjoys being filthy, perhaps you have never been a good person.

Why that mattered to me, I couldn’t say, except that I was still struggling to unite my desire with what I had been taught. The reality of who I was still upset a part of me, even when the rest of me could get off on it.

I sat unmoving and unsure of myself for what felt like hours.

That was, until I heard the singing.

For all that I disliked about the institution of the church, I had been raised in it, and moulded by it, and spent altogether too much time amongst it and its community, to the point where the feelings it could elicit in me were inevitable. I didn’t have to be in a gaudy chapel, or some grand cathedral with stained glass iridescent like scales, and incense clogging every corner, to feel God. I didn’t have to prayer or take communion or wait for the Holy Spirit to bless me with His voice. When I was younger especially, I could feel him everywhere.

To thieve as a child and be caught, to have my whole life upended with the promise of my self-reform and eternal salvation, meant that in my youthful innocence, I trusted that God was on my side. I thought he had saved me. In those days I could feel Him in the warmth of the sun on my face, or the peace that might settle my anxiety when amongst the other members of the cloth. I found God wherever I looked, because he hadn’t failed me yet.

Then the years stretched on and on and what had given me joy once now did nothing for my hollow heart. He had no interest in saving the soul of a would-be sodomite. He had no interest in releasing me from decades of torturous

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