“Oh please Lord, not again…” Paul said, as he wrapped his hand around his hard cock once more. He had lost track of how many times he’d shot this morning, but he just couldn’t resist. He’d spent his life spreading Christian virtue, and warning people about the dangers of masturbation and sex, but now–it was like he was possessed.

Even worse, with every load, he was changing. His hair was falling out, he was getting fatter. He had no ambition anymore–it was like all his body wanted to do was lay around and masturbate. This time though, just jacking off wouldn’t be enough, he could tell.

He reached around and probed his asshole with a finger, and worked it inside with a groan. “Oh yeah, that’s it. Feels so good having a finger up my shitter,” Paul heard himself say in a voice not his own, and moments later, he shot his load all over the carpet in front of him, and he sobbed. He didn’t know what demon had possessed him, but he was too weak. Soon, his righteous character would disappear, and he’d be a chronic masturbator forever more.