I made this as a joke for my forum, and thought you all would at the very least, laugh your asses off. I really doubt anybody can possibly ENJOY reading this, though. So really, at best, I just hope to make everyone have horrible nightmares.

Judge Frollo/The Stake(or Pyre, depending on how you look at it)
This is REALLY GODDAMNED EXPLICIT.
Wood is kinda phallic in nature, so Ho-yay/gay content warning to be safe.
~~~

Too long had it been since his last gypsy burning. Much too long. The spry skip in Judge Frollo's step was quite out of character for the overcast evening as he walked the cobbled pavement of Notre Dame. His men had seized a handful of gypsies earlier that afternoon, and he was only too eager to have called on woodcutters to prepare materials for a pyre when he heard the good news. He was on his way to the stables, where workmen loitered, in order to check one more thing off his checklist for tomorrow's events. Three woodcutters exited a shed, dusting off their hands.

"Surely you didn't bring the wood inside just NOW?" Frollo admonished.

"I'm afraid so. We only just got back," said the nearest man.

"It's been raining all afternoon. It might not even be dry in time for the burnings!"

The men just shrugged their shoulders and wandered off. Judge Follo grit his teeth and stormed into the shed to check on the state of the timber. If he wasn't in such a good mood, there would have been consequences.

In the pale light, Frollo sighed with some relief simply by being able to set his eyes upon the gorgeous accumulation of wood. They were a smokey amber, utterly rich in color. Before he even stepped close enough, he just knew how wonderful the cuttings would smell, and oh, how he was entranced when he could smell it. He leaned his head in and closed his eyes, three precious inches away from the material. It smelled of beautiful memories, the pre-ashened scents of gypsy burning. At this point, his face rested upon the wood, so he raised his hand and caressed the timber. So robust was its texture that Frollo couldn't help but draw his body in to press himself against the proud, erect, remnants of tree.

Swirling flames and writhing bodies. The reverberant screams of the virile gypsy youths. The heat of the flames wicking away at the glowing stake. Grinding his hips in the ecstasy of the memories of pyres long burnt, Frollo suddenly realized that the entire front of his robes were dampened quite thoroughly. His firmness twitched against the cool sensation that coated it. It must have been the excitement of it all that got to him, but there was no reason to stop now.

The Judge lifted the hemline of his robe gingerly with one hand and slid a palm down the underside of his length with his other, pausing to roll a thumb over the now-engorged tip. He moved his hand back up his shaft and rubbed the sensitive head of his penis along the grain of the wood, repeating these motions, slightly rougher each time until he could no longer contain himself.

Upon glancing down and seeing two rather smooth slats of wood, he pried them apart, grateful for their fresh, slickened humidity. He trailed his fingertips around the opening in a lewd manner and inserted himself between the rounded, cylindrical planks. Filling his head with visions of gypsies being tied to the stake, and all the lovely events that always take place afterward, he assaulted the rainsoaked lumber in such a way that could only be compared to animal lust.

Bringing himself to climax was not a difficult task, and he soon came to completion, clenching every muscle from his buttocks to toes as he held on to the timber. Groaning in sated lust, he pulled away from the wood, a string of his emissions trailing off his member. "Tomorrow..." he said with ragged breath, "Will be a glorious day."

Apologies for the fact that this fanfic now exists cause of me.
Mea culpa.
Mea maxima maxima culpa.