Showing posts with label purple book. Show all posts
Showing posts with label purple book. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 15, 2013

Fiction: Bella of Damnation

“Samuel, look at me.”

I purposely did not. A minute ago I was alone in the car. Now it appeared that I wasn’t.

There was a tinkling of bells and something brushed my ear. It felt like lips. A tongue licked my ear lobe. It was quite nice except for the cold metal of her tongue piercing.

“I want to fuck you, Samuel.”

I bet she did.

The traffic jam relented for ten feet. I coasted the car forward. I glimpsed someone in the backseat from my rear view mirror. I averted my eyes.

“Take your cock out for me,” the voice said. There was a slight Southern tang to her voice. That was a bad sign. First she knew one of my names and now she was homing in on my desires.

The traffic refused to move.

There was a tinkling of bells just under my chin. A hand touched my chest. I looked straight ahead. Fingernails, tipped with bells, raked gently across my chest.  It was nice.

“I need you, Samuel,” the voice said. The desperate whine was straight from my last girlfriend.

She must have followed me back from my journey to the Astral Main. The fact that she came with me on the Pink Ship of Lewdness, around the Horn of Craving and through the Gates of the Abundant Woman was impressive. It was also telling that she was manifesting less than forty hours after my journey. She was no ordinary half formed spirit of lust. She had to be a true Angel of Perversity.

The tinkling of bells was right behind my ear. Heavy breasts pressed against the back of my neck. Tattooed flesh crowded the edge of my perception. I could feel the warmth of her forbidden flesh. All I had to do was turn my head and I could have nuzzled breasts as perfect as my imagination.

It would also mean I would see her. Seeing was believing; believing was surrendering. Surrender would mean the forfeit of my soul. There would be noting left of me except for a new bell hanging from her flesh.

“Fuck me like one of your little followers, Samuel,” the voice said. “I would bend over and take anything would give me.”

The traffic moved forward a few more feet. I glimpsed police lights a mile down.

The bells tinkled and something touched my crotch. Nimble fingers stroked the bulge that was forming in my pants.

The wisest person I know, Catalina, told me that you should never speak to Angels. The smart thing to do would be to sit here in traffic and recite banishing meditations in the hopes that the Angel will move on to other prey.

I am not the wisest person I know.

“I want to fuck you,” I said.

The bells shook furiously from the sound of the passenger seat. I stared straight ahead.

“Yes,” the voice said. “Look at me. Look at how wet you are making me.”

I heard the sound of a pussy being stroked and bells being rung.

“I can hear how wet you are,” I said.

She moaned. “Look at my tits. I want you to bite them.”

“I will,” I said.

“When?” she pouted. “Fuck me and I will get you off like you never have before.”

That was true but I did enjoy not being a damned soul.

“One minute,” I said. I jerked the wheel and drove into the bicycle lane. It was too tight so I had to also drive on part of the sidewalk.

Horns honked and gestures cursed me. The bells tinkled as the Angel stroked faster. The smell of pussy as sweet as my first girlfriend filled the car.

I found what I needed. A crappy little sandwich place lurked in a strip mall. I turned into the parking lot, sloppily parked my car and ran to the restaurant.

The bells tinkled behind me. The front glass of the place was terribly reflective. I caught the hint of flesh, tattoos and bells before I closed my eyes. Blind, I felt for the door and opened it. Only then did I open my eyes again.

“Hey, where’s your restroom?” I demanded.

The surly man behind the counter frowned at me with weary disappointment. Of course he couldn’t see the naked Angel behind me. She was my little blessing. “Restrooms are for customers only.”

“Make me a Philly cheese steak with everything and I’ll eat it when I get out.” I tossed my wallet towards him.

He caught it. “It’s in the back.”

I ran. “Do you want a combo?” he yelled.

“Yes!” I yelled back.

Praise the Older Woman and the Slut, the bathroom was unused. I darted in and closed the door behind me. My fingers found the lock and turned it.

“Yes,” the Angel purred. “Fuck me, now.”

“One more thing,” I said.

I turned off the lights.

The bells rang beside me. I reached out into the darkness. My fingers closed around pierced arms.

“Look at me,” the Angel cried.

“Do you care if I look at you?” I said and then I kissed her.

Pierced lips melted against mine. A pierced tongue wrestled against me. Pierced breasts pressed against me. A powerful leg wrapped around my waist. Fingers that tinkled grabbed my ass.

After a long kiss in the dark, she finally answered me. “No,” she said.

I laughed and removed my pants. She grabbed my cock and pulled. I pressed her against a wall and reached down to lift her. She was as light as a moan.

I pushed her against the wall. She squealed with delight at the dirt she could feel. I lowered her and felt my cock press up into pierced pussy lips and a bell on her clitoris.

Infernal heat gripped my cock. Desire as wet as the ocean washed down my cock and onto my balls. Muscles clenched my cock with the power of endless craving.

“You asshole,” she whispered and my cock throbbed. “You’re fucking me so that I will lose my grip on this plane of existence.”

I fucked her faster. She knew exactly what turned me on: acknowledging my cunning. The angel couldn’t help fucking me and helping me fuck. It was what she was.

Bells and breasts grinded against my chest. Fingernails scratched grooves into my back. Thighs tightened around me. Studded lips bit into my shoulder.

Bells tinkled, rang and chimed in a supernatural chorus.

I came. She was right. I had never come so fast or hard. I cried out. Half of the joy was from the pleasure at knowing I had banished her, the other half of the joy was having my seed pulled out of me by a magical vagina.

The bells stopped ringing.

I turned on the light. I was alone.

It felt good. Not many people got to fuck an Angel. Well, not fuck an Angel and not become a chiming body modification.

Best of all, I had a Philly cheese steak waiting for me.

Wednesday, April 24, 2013

Fiction: Lighthouses of Pleasure

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Wednesday, January 30, 2013

Fiction: Library of Guides

There is a place you need to go to. It is located down the street behind the closed peep show, across the way from the lingerie store and behind the topless bar. Go down the alley but ignore the first door because that leads to the dungeon but you can go there later if you are into that sort of thing. It is the second door you want because that leads to the Library of Guides.

This is no ordinary library. You will realize that as soon as you see the shelves that stretch upwards into infinity. Don’t try to climb the ladders to the top because you will freeze to death or maybe die from the lack of oxygen. More than likely you will be killed by the fallen mummified remains of another person who climbed the stairs earlier and his bones have given out and are now falling on you. So, yes don’t do that.

For Dewey’s sake, don’t ask for the latest vampire love story or millionaire psychologically disturbed dominant. This isn’t that kind of a library.

This library has only one focus, and that is the secret sexual triggers, desires and weaknesses of every person, dead or alive. Your spouse has a book. You have a book. Everyone has a single book there. The book describes what that person really wants in bed and better yet, how to get them to do the things you want as well. Each book is a key that once read, will allow you to unlock their libido as easily as opening your closet door. Except of course, you will be opening their closet and understanding every curve of the skeletons within.

But first you have to go to the librarian but that should be no trouble at all. She’ll find you. You’ll recognize her from red rimmed glasses that red because they are made from a single ruby. You’ll know her by her amazing dark brown cleavage that will nearly explode from her tight wet button down shirt. You’ll know her by the way books close and put themselves back in the shelves when she walks by. You’ll know her by the grace of how she walks for she has been walking since man first wrote a word down and she has had a lot of practice. You’ll know.

The Librarian will ask you what book you want and that is the kicker. See, you can only borrow one book in your lifetime. You will borrow it for a second as the knowledge will fill your mind and you will achieve perfect sexual understanding of the person you have read about. You will return the book and the Librarian will send you on your way.

The question though is which book should you ask for?

Shall you ask for the book on your spouse? You will understand every desire they have, both known and unknown. You will know exactly what it takes to make them happy. You will be a Deity of Sex in their eyes. You will become everything they ever wanted in a lover.

Or will you ask for the book of a crush? You will be gifted with the intimate knowledge needed to sweep them from their feet. You will know their libido better than they know themselves. You will be perfect stranger who sweeps in and gives them the fuck of their lives.

Perhaps you want the book of an enemy. You want to know what makes them happy so that you can become their greatest desire. They will be helpless as you pluck away at the strings of their lust; making them dance to your song of revenge. No one will ever know them as well as your worse enemy.

Maybe you are the rare kind that asks for your own book. The Librarian will smile at you and you will never know if it was a smile of approval or restrained glee at your foolishness. You will discover yourself. You will know why you like that kind of haircut. You will learn secrets that are perhaps better kept from your mind. You will roll the dice and the knowledge will either destroy you or open your heart to pleasures unimagined.

So, which book will you choose?

Wednesday, January 09, 2013

Fiction: Night School For Bad Boys

The school bell rang and a chill went down my spine. My cock also throbbed.

It was after nine and my wife was watching television. She was immersed in reality shows and fake lives. I knew she didn’t hear the bell. It was not meant for her.

“I’m heading out,” I told her and she didn’t ask me where I was going. She was used to my late night trips. There were never any questions from her. It was why we were still married.

The school bell was still ringing as I went outside. I stood in my yard and looked for the school. This time it was down the street. It lurked beside the bus stop.

Other men were already heading towards it. I didn’t recognize any of them, which I never do. I am not sure if my fellow students even live here.

The bell kept ringing until I stepped inside. It was a single room school. A chalkboard loomed behind a white desk. A poster admonished little boys to be good. A map of the world covered one wall but none of the continents looked right. A cabinet of skulls sat in a corner but none of us would look at it.

The men lined up at the white desk. We each dropped something off as we walked by. The man in front of me put down a hundred dollars. I put down a knife I had bought this week. It was our tribute, our bribe or maybe our penance.

We undressed and took our seats. We stuffed our clothes inside our desks. The cold seat was hard and unforgiving on my ass

I fidgeted like most of the men there. My fingers traced the marks on the desk top that were left by thousand of students. I read carved confessions and scribbled pleas for help. I read names that I could barely believe. I saw the word I clawed one day with my fingernails.

When the last man was seated, Ms. Erie came in. She was in a white dress that glowed in the dark class room. The dress contrasted with her brown skin and night black hair. Silver rimmed glasses aided the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen. A faint coat of white lipstick decorated dark lips. As usual, she carried a crop decorated with the head of a unicorn. The unicorn’s horn was stained with blood.

“Good evening, class,” Ms. Erie said. Her accent was Polynesian. I knew this because I had spent the last six years trying to place it.

“Good evening, Ms. Erie,” we all said in unison. The student to my left began to shake.

“I hope you all have been working on your assignments,” Ms. Erie said.

The student to my left started openly crying. A student behind me started to pray. Another student at the end of my row started to slam his head into his desk.

“Stop that,” Ms. Erie said gently and the student stopped slamming his head. There was blood on his face.

“I guess we shall begin with you, Jeffery,” Ms. Erie said, turning to the crying student beside me.

Jeffery shook his head.

“Did you stop stealing setting up cameras in women’s bathrooms?” Ms. Erie asked.

Jeffery shook his head.

“How many pictures have you taken of women since last class?” Ms. Erie asked.

Jeffery wailed. “Three thousand and fourteen,” he said. I don’t think he even knew the number until Ms. Erie asked him.

Ms. Erie shook her head. “Very naughty. I am so disappointed in you. I thought we had made good progress. I see that you need more Education.”

Jeffery cried and stood up. He walked around his desk and bent over it. His face was so pale.

“Education, you may begin,” Ms. Erie said.

The crop flew from her hand. It struck Jeffery with a hiss as it cut through the air.

Jeffery screamed. The crop kept hitting him. Welts appeared on his ass, followed by blood. He screamed and screamed and screamed. It was horrible.

It was what he deserved.

After an eternity, Ms. Erie held out her hand and Education returned to it. I was close enough to see the Unicorn head and I saw that it was smiling.

“Jeffery, your next assignment is to remove all of the cameras you have hidden, and I do mean all of them. Understand?”

“Yes, Ms. Erie,” he said barely. His voice was hoarse from all of his screaming.

“Now what about you, Charles?” Ms. Erie said directly to me.

I swallowed. “I have tried my best,” I said.

Ms. Erie smiled. “I shall be the judge of that. Have you killed since last class?”

“No, Ms. Erie,” I said and it was the truth. You couldn’t say anything else to her.

“And do you have someone you would like to kill?” Ms. Erie asked.

“Yes,” I admitted. “There is a woman at my bank. I have followed her a few times. I know where she lives. I know that she is alone.”

“And do you still keep that special bag in your car?” Ms Erie asked.

“No,” I said. “It is still in my basement, where you told me to keep it.”

“Good,” Ms. Erie said. “I want to keep your vow of not killing. Your next assignment is to stop following this girl. Follow another if you want, but you must never see this girl again, do you understand me?”

My eyes darted to Education. “Yes,” I said.

“Your other assignment is to take something out of your bag and throw it away. Don’t replace it. Do you understand this assignment?”

“Yes,” I said but it hurt. My bag had all my favorite tools. I had so many memories. One item? Which item? This would be hard.

“Good, I think you have earned a B then,” Ms. Erie said.

I let out a ragged breath that I didn’t know I was holding. A B! I felt a giddy delight come over me that wiped away my anxiety. I didn’t care anymore about dismantling my special bag. I would worry about that latter.

Ms. Erie waved her hand and the desk moved away from me. She stood in front of my naked body and my hard cock. With a fluid motion, she kneeled down in front of me.  Students groaned with jealousy at the prize I was about to receive.

I looked down as long black hair brushed my thighs. Ms. Erie looked up at me from silver rimmed glasses. She took my cock in her hand and licked the tip.

I had a sudden vision. I imagined grabbing her head and forcing it down on my cock. I imagined fucking her face. I imagined the cuts I wanted to make on her body.

She squeezed my cock with her hand. It hurt but the visions went away.

Then she went down on me. I cried out as my cock was wrapped in incredible wet warmth. It was better than my first time. It was better than a cunt. It was better than killing.

Education hovered nearby but I ignored him. I earned this B. I sat back and enjoyed it. I relished every long slow lick. I treasured the way her hair moved up and down my lap as she sucked. I trembled as her cheeks caved in under the sucking pressure of her mouth. I moaned as she took more and more of my cock into her mouth.

This made up for not killing anyone. This was why I fought that nasty wonderful urge. This is why the bank teller is still alive.

Spit dribbled out of her mouth and down my cock and onto my balls. I looked over at Jeffery who was somehow sitting down on that raw bloody butt in his seat. I smiled at him and shook my head slowly. This could have been him.

More importantly, if I hadn’t of behaved, I could have been him.

Ms. Erie choked on my cock and I forgot about Jeffery. I forgot about the woman at the bank. Shit, I even forgot about my special bag. This was heaven. This was incredible. This was worth being good.

I climaxed in her mouth. I filled her mouth with my seed and Ms. Erie drank it all. My body shook and I felt like I was dying. My entire soul was being sucked.

Ms. Erie released my cock and stood up. She wiped the corner of her mouth. Her white lipstick was flawless. “Well done, Charles,” she said, as if I was the one who performed an amazing blowjob.

“Thank you, Ms. Erie,” I said.

She went on to judge other students. Some she punished. Others she rewarded. One lucky bastard got an A and we all watched in envy as he fucked her ass.

Three students were expelled. Their screams were worse than any of the kills I had made. Ms. Erie added their skulls to the cabinet.

Time moved slowly when we were in class. We witnessed each grade as if it was our own. There could be no rushing it.

Finally, the bell rang. We stayed in our seats.

“Class is dismissed,” Ms. Erie said.

I got up and got dressed. I left in a hurry, stepping over the body of an expelled student. I went through the doors without a glance back.

I was back in my street. My watch said that an hour has passed. It was right but also wrong.

My thoughts went to the bank teller. Yes, I could give her up. I had spent time and effort tracking her but I would do it. There could be another.

My cock ached with a happy exhaustion. I remembered the feeling of climaxing in Ms. Erie’s mouth. Something more than seed had left my cock and went down her throat. It was a piece of me. A piece I didn’t need anymore.

My special bag needed to be taken care of. I decided that I was going to throw away the gag. It had served me well but I would get rid of it. It didn’t seem that important anymore.

I returned to my house. I was still a bad man, but maybe a little less bad.

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

Fiction: Tent Revival

Ezekiel looked out at the crowd gathered here tonight.  It was a good crowd.  More and more people were showing up every night. That wasn’t bad for a tent revival that only advertised in strip clubs, swinger magazines and bathroom stalls.

He stepped up onto the small stage and took the cloth off the fucking bench.  Questioning murmurs rippled through the crowd.  He ripped off his shirt and revealed his hairy chest.   He picked up the microphone and began his sermon.

“Sluts and sinners, I am Reverend Ezekiel Bone and I am here to bring you the Word!  I am here to bring you SALVATION!  I am here to bring you ETERNAL BLISS!  Can I get an AMEN?”

The response of the crowd was weak.  He heard more “What the fuck?” then he did “Amen.”  Ezekiel let it slide.

“Oh I am looking on this crowd and you know what I see?  I see FORNICATORS!  I see MASTURBATORS!  I see WHORES and FUCKERS! And you know what?”

The crowd didn’t answer.  Some of them looked like they were about to run for the exit.  One poor black girl in the front was about to cry.

“I want you sinners, masturbators, shoe fuckers and lap dancers to know that it is ALL RIGHT!  That’s right, you heard me!  It is FUCKING OKAY!  The Good God Above is proud of you and he loves your work!  Good for you!”

Ezekiel smiled.  Yes, the crowd was really confused now.  At least no one was leaving.

“The Good Lord gave you a dick and you used it.  Good for you!  The Heavenly Father gave you a pussy and you used it!  Good for you!  He gave you pay per view porn, bondage clubs and filthy ebooks you can buy online and you fucking used it all!  Hallelujah!  Can I have an AMEN!”

“Amen!” some one said.  Everyone laughed but Ezekiel wasn’t laughing.  Once the ice was broken the river would flow.

“Now I know what you’re thinking,” Ezekiel said.  “You’re saying, Reverend, all those things are a sin.  It says so in the Bible.  It says so in magazines.  It says so in church picnic menus.  It says so in my little list of things I should never ever do given to me by my Momma.  Porn and tits and fucking and cocks are all EVIL!”

Ezekeil looked at the crowd.  Some nodded their heads.  He nodded with them and then started shaking his violently.

“No, that is all LIES!  You think God is that bad of a parent?  You think he leaves his porn under the bed and doesn’t expect you to find it!  FUCK NO!  God wants you to read that porn!  God wants you to jack that dick and twaddle that pussy!  Why did he leave the porn there in the first fucking place?  Do you think that ALL MIGHTY GOD who makes the stars and keeps the planet spinning can’t have the fucking FORESIGHT to know that you horny bastards are going to go fuck anything that moves and some things that don’t?  Do you think GOD is a fucking idiot?”

“NO!” some in the crowd shouted back.  Ezekiel could always count on a few to take offense to that statement.

“God knows that you are perverts.  Did he not make us in his image?  Are we not a bunch of horny bastards?  God made us that way!”

“That was the Devil who did it!” someone yelled from the crowd.

“The Devil?” Ezekiel said.  “Are you talking about the Snake in the Garden of Evil?  Let me tell you the real story of the Garden of Eden.  This is the real story laid out in the Dead Sea scrolls that they don’t want you to read.  This is the story that was smuggled out of the scared Church and leaked to real believers like myself.  This is the story told in the Purple Book of Mary.  Let me tell you the story of Eve and the Apple.”

Ezekiel dropped his voice and recited the story from memory.  “And one day, God went a walking in the forest and Eve saw his godhood.  She said it was huge and mighty but she did not understand why it was rigid.  And God said, does not Adam have a rigid manhood?  And Eve said No.

And God took pity on Eve.  He said “Eat of the Tree of Knowledge but know that if you eat it, you will no longer be a dumb sheep in the Garden.”

Ezekiel looked at his audience.  “And you know what Eve did?  You think she ate that Apple?  Fuck no!  She put that apple in her CUNT!  She fucked that apple!  She fucked it good!  And she realized that fucking was good and she couldn’t wait to make Adam have some but she had fucked that apple so hard that it turned into applesauce!  So Eve, you know what she does?”

“She gave him the applesauce?” someone asked.

“Oh she gave it to him all right,” Ezekiel said.  “She opened her thighs and told Adam to eat her pussy.  He ate that sweet pussy and his dick got all hard and then he stuck that dick in her!  The two started fucking and everything changed for them!  They weren’t satisfied with sitting in a dumb garden counting and naming animals anymore.  They wanted to FUCK!”

The crowd laughed.  Ezekiel laughed with them.

“They fucked in the bushes!  They fucked with their hands!  Eve made some fucking clothes to make their bodies look even better and then they fucked with their clothes on!  And then God came by and saw that these dumb fucks were now smart fucks and he told them to go out in the world and fuck some more!  Can I have an AMEN!”

“AMEN!” more people answered.

“That is the God honest truth and I FUCKING swear it!  People know it deep in their heart!  People know that fucking is good but there are always uptight ASSHOLES who want to change that.  They want you to give them money to fight our most natural impulse!  They want you to swear on a stack of lies that you will never wank your meat even though it feels AWESOME!  Can I get an AMEN?”

“AMEN!” more people answered. 

“Now sluts and sinners, I don’t know why people lie about this.  I don’t know why the Catholic Church hid the truth about what a great lay that Jesus was.  I don’t know why the Jews didn’t want you to know that it was Moses’ cock that turned into a snake and fucked the ass of the Pharaoh.  I don’t know why so many organized religions lie.  I am not a psychologist or an economist.  It doesn’t matter why they do it as long as you know the truth and I am here, sluts and sinners, to bring you the TRUTH!  Can I get an AMEN?”

“AMEN!” the entire crowd yelled.

“And I am here tonight to help YOU!” Ezekiel said.  He put his hand to his crotch and grabbed a handful of his cock.  “I can sense that one among you is having some problems, oh yes!  The Lord is telling me that one among you hasn’t had sex with her husband in over a year!  Oh LORD!  I sense that one of you is about to give up on sex forever and even stop masturbating!  Is that true?  Is there one among you like that?  If there is, sister, please speak UP!”

“It’s true!” a woman near the front said.  She was a plump Hispanic woman with beautiful black hair and beautiful sad eyes.

“Come up then!” Ezekiel said.  “Make way for our fellow sinner!  Let her come up on stage and we can help her!”

The woman made her way to the stage and Ezekeil put his arm around her.

“What is your name?”

“Maria,” she said.

“And Maria, is it true that your husband has not fucked you in over a year?” Ezekiel said.

“It is true,” she said.  “I think he is fucking that white slut next door,” Maria said.

A disapproving groan came from the crowd.

“Well Maria, that is a fucking shame,” Ezekiel said.  “You are so damn pretty, I would fuck you twice before getting out of bed each morning.  Now, I am not a licensed marriage counselor or a fully accredited life coach, but I think you should get proof of his infidelity and divorce his ass.  Take him for everything he is worth for denying you your marital rights as a wife!  Can I get an AMEN?”

“AMEN!” the crowd yelled.

“But in the meantime, Maria,” Ezekiel said.  “Would you like the healing power of the LORD?  Would you like to have the gift of the APPLE that EVE gave to ADAM?  Would you like to get what is RIGHTFULLY yours?”

“AMEN!” Maria yelled.  

“Then take that pretty dress off and get on the bench here!” Ezekiel said.  “Show us that body that your IDIOT husband is too STUPID to fuck!”

“Fuck that pendejo!” Maria yelled.  She grabbed the bottom of her dress and pulled the whole thing over her head.  The crowd cheered at her round body.  She then ripped off her modest white bra and released her brown tits.  Last was her white panties and that went sailing into the crowd.  Ezekiel figured those panties might have just become a Holy Relic to someone who needed them.

Ezekiel led Maria to the bench.  It was a well padded device that let a woman kneel comfortably on it without getting tired.  It angled her ass and pussy in the air while letting her tits hang over the side.  It was made by a very religious and horny carpenter.

Ezekiel pulled off his pants.  He took his cock in one hand while still holding the microphone in the other.

“Sinners and sluts, let me tell you that this is one wet pussy!  This pussy would have made Noah build a bigger Ark!  This is a HOLY place that I am about to enter!  Can I get an AMEN?”

“AMEN!” the crowd yelled and that was when Ezekiel slipped his cock inside Maria.

“PRAISE JESUS!” Maria yelled.

“Praise Jesus!” Ezekiel agreed.  “Praise Jesus who took six inches of cock and satisfied an entire party!  Praise Jesus who made the flat-chested get boobs and made the small dicks get bigger!  Praise Jesus who tore out the banks in the temples and added an orgy room!  Praise Jesus who gave Maria this really good cunt!  Can I get an AMEN?”

“AMEN!” everyone yelled. 

Ezekiel pounded Maria.  He fucked her with all the lust and love in his heart.  He fucked her like it was his divine mission.  He fucked her because she deserved to be fucked.  He fucked her religiously.

“Madre de Dios!” Maria yelled.  She looked out at the crowd of fellow sinners and sluts and saw their love.

“Praise the Lord!” Ezekiel yelled.

“I’m COMING!” Maria yelled.

“AMEN!” the crowd cheered.

Wednesday, July 25, 2012

Fiction: The Oracle

It began at the flea market.  I found it tucked away between a box of men’s magazines and a sewing machine.  It was a rainy day and not many of the sellers had shown up for today but I was compelled to come anyway.  That might be why I found it first. 

The statue depicted a nude woman with amazing breasts.  The breasts were a size too large for the body and yet the statue stood perfectly fine on its slender base.  It appeared to be made of silver but the weight was too light.  The woman had short curly hair and her face was a curious mix of racial features that made it impossible to identify.  It could have been a white woman, an African, an Asian or a Hispanic.  Whatever she was, she was beautiful.

The seller was confused when I pointed it out.  He didn’t seem to think it was his.  That was not too unusual, most of these flea markets are staffed by people who buy and sell every day.  I just assumed that he forgot that he owned it.  He didn’t have a price tag for it so he charged me sixty-six dollars.  For once, I didn’t haggle and I paid his price.

I didn’t buy anything else that day.  Holding that statue in my hand, I lost my usual passions.  I was no longer interested in old books, vintage typewriters or Death Bringers concert posters.  In fact, I had a giant erection in my pants and my throbbing cock was all I could think of. 

I went back to my car and set the statue down in the passenger seat.  I started the car and then turned it back off.  A drop of rain had landed on the statue and it was sitting on the statue’s right breast.  It clung to the statue’s breast and I was jealous of it.

Please understand that I am not a pervert.  I jack off every other day but I don’t have enormous porn collections on my computer like some guys.  I don’t have a girlfriend but I am not looking either.  I am a regular guy and I don’t usually act this way.

I opened my pants.  My cock was pulsing as I wrapped my hand around it.  Usually I masturbate with tissues or a towel to catch my come but I didn’t care.  I didn’t even spit in my hand as I started to jack off.

It was a rainy day but there were still people in the parking lot.  I didn’t care.  I looked at the statue and jacked my cock.  Those perfect breasts looked so soft and pliant.  I wanted to lick the raindrop off the statue but I didn’t.  It was sexier seeing it there.

I came pretty quickly.  I made a huge mess in my car.  Normally I feel a twinge of shame afterwards but this time I just felt a tremendous relief.  With a hand covered in come, I felt good.

When I got home I tried to find out more about the statue.  There was no maker’s mark and the internet gave me no clues.  It was hard to find anything about a statue of a naked woman.

That night I dreamed of the statue.  It came to life and was a black woman.  She pulled me to her tits and it was like sinking into heaven.  I kissed her breasts while I wept.  I snuggled into the canyon of her magnificent mammaries.  I cried for joy when she invited me to slip my cock between her mountains of wonder.

I fucked her tits.  There was no need for lubricant.  My cock slid back and forth between her tits like they were made for me. 

The tits told me things.  It was the crazy impossible knowledge that you can only get in dreams.  The tits told me who really created the universe.  The tits told me what lurks underground in secret cities.  The tits told me the sex secrets of a celebrity cook.  The tits told me where orgasms come from.  The tits told me why people still vote Republican.  It was all insane and it all made sense.

I came in my dream and I awoke to sticky sheets.  My underwear was soaked with come.  I laughed and thought about the crazy things the tits told me.  I expected that when I was awake, that the weird things I had dreamed would sound even crazier.  Instead, they made more sense.   

That was too much for me.  By the time I finished with my shower I had decided to get rid of the statue.  It was what I usually do anyway.  I often bought things, keep it around for awhile and then sell it on an internet auction site to make room for something new.  I was just speeding up the process.

I took a few pictures of the statue for the auction site.  My cock was hard the entire time.  This time I could certainly see the African features more clearly.  Funny how my dream made it easier to see.

I posted it with a starting bid of sixty dollars. 

I went to work and tried to forget about the statue but it was hard.  So was my cock.  Even though it was a dream, I could remember with perfect clarity the feeling of slipping between those lovely lady lumps.

Harder to forget was the knowledge the tits had told me.  I saw the celebrity chef on a magazine cover and it seemed so obvious what perversions she does.  I felt a tremor from a passing subway train and I knew what the short men underground were up to.  I heard my conservative coworker bitch about healthcare and I knew what he was really afraid of. 

When I got home I checked the auction site.  The current bid was six thousand dollars.  That was crazy.

I had dinner and watched television.  I kept thinking about the statue.  I jacked off twice more.  Coming three times in one day was some sort of a record.

That night I dreamed of the statue again.  This time she was Asian with flawless skin and beautiful black hair.  She pulled me to her tits and I sucked on a nipple.  I dreamed she masturbated me as I sucked.

The tits told me things again.  I tried not to listen but their ideas went straight into my head.  The tits told me why my last girlfriend cheated on me.  The tits told me why people like vampire erotica.  The tits told me what that famous teenage singer really was. 

A loud knocking woke me up.  It was the incessant pounding of an angry hand.  I got out of bed with my cock forming a tent in my boxers.  I glanced at the statue beside my bed and this time I could plainly see the Asian features.  How could I have mistaken them for African before?

The knocking resumed and I rushed to the door, which is weird because I should have been pissed at the knocking at the late hour.  It is hard to describe, but I felt like I was in trouble.  

There were three people at the door.  The one in front was a woman with long blonde hair.  Behind her were a short redhead woman and a tall white man.  They wore black masks across their eyes like they were bank robbers from the 40’s. 

Even odder was their shirts.  Each of them had a cut in their shirt that revealed their right breast.  The blonde woman had a heavy tit exposed that was pale and marbled with pale blue veins.  The redhead had a small perky tit with a butterfly tattoo.  The man’s tit was a bit hairy.

“We are here for the Oracle,” the blonde said.  “You must give it to us and us alone.”

I knew they were talking about the statue.  I mean, what else would three masked people with their tits hanging out be here for?

“Put a bid in like everyone else,” I said.  “Wait, how did you get my address?”

“The Order of the Tit have many connections,” the blonde said.  “We are only the true worthy inheritors of the power of the Oracle and we demand you give it to us.  We will not sully the Oracle by paying for it with mortal currency but we shall make you an offer.  Natalie here will suck you cock or take it up her ass, whichever you prefer in exchange for the Oracle.  Steve is here for the same offer if your tastes are more masculine.  Either way, we want the Oracle.”

I didn’t know what to say.

“Or you can have them both if you wish,” the blonde said.  “Hell, you can have me as well.  We number over a thousand members and you can have us all if you desire.  Just give us the Oracle before it decarnates.”

“De-car-what?” I said.  “Wait, what is the Oracle?”

“Newbie! You don’t deserve to know!” the redhead snapped.

The blonde held up her hand.  “No, Natalie, the Oracle appeared to him.  Perhaps he is worthy.  Tell him, Steve.”

The man nodded and spoke.  “No one knows what exactly the Oracle is but when it appears, it grants forbidden knowledge.  It always appears as a great work of art and within a few weeks, it disappears.  It reappears usually around six years later.  Last time it appeared, it was a sexy towel in Puerto Rico.  Before that, it appeared as a jpeg that couldn’t be copied.  Some say that it taught prehistoric man how to have oral sex and-“

“That is enough, Steve,” the blonde said.  “As you can see, the Oracle imparts important knowledge, knowledge that must belong in the right hands and kept away from the uneducated.  It is too important to sell to a random person on the internet.”

“I need to think about this,” I said.  “Come back in the morning?  No wait; come back at six in the afternoon?  After I get off from work?”

“It could decarnate tonight!” the redhead snapped.  “There is so much to learn!  Why is that shitty book about bondage so popular? What is the right way to have a poly relationship?  You have to give it to us!”

“Yeah, come back at six,” I said.  I closed the door.

That was freaky.  I should have called the cops but what they said made a certain kind of sense.  I mean, with all the weird dreams I have had, it was as good an explanation as any.

I locked the door and checked the lock on the back door.  When I peeked outside the window I saw that they had gone.  I went back to bed.

This time I dreamed that the statue was a Hispanic woman.  Her skin was a luscious brown and her tits were topped with dark nipples the color of the night sky.  This time the Oracle got down on her knees and took me into her mouth.  I grabbed her heavy tits and my fingers squeezed and played with the malleable marvels of her flesh.

The tits had a lot to tell me.  They told me of the Order of the Tit and how jealous they were of Oracle’s secrets.  The Order was there when O was being branded.  The Order created the secret pleasure palaces of the Rockefellers.  The Order kept the sex books of Charles Dickens for themselves.  The Order decided who gets to enjoy our wicked world. 

The tits told me that knowledge, like tits, is nourishing when given freely.  The tits told me that tits, like knowledge, can be cruel when denied.  The tits told me that there is a place for both.

The oracle took me out of her mouth before I climaxed.  As I held her tits, she jacked my cock.  I climaxed on her bountiful brown breasts.

The tits had one more thing to tell me.  Covered in my come, they told me that the window for my kitchen had the weakest lock of all.

A crashing sound woke me up.  I heard angry cursing the sound of a dozen people in my house.  Someone knocked down some dishes and someone else tripped over my exercise bike in the living room.  Yeah, I always trip on that thing too.

My underwear was full of come but I couldn’t worry about that.  I jumped out of bed and grabbed the statue.  I thought about going out my window but before I could, the bedroom door burst open.  A black guy with his right nipple exposed charged me. 

I hit him with the statue.  I swung it by the legs so he got clobbered by the tits part of the statue.  The guy went down like a log.  I wasn’t sure if I gave him a concussion or maybe he was having a vision.

A white guy came at me and I showed how non-racist I was by knocking him out too.  The redhead from earlier ran at me and I took her out too so that proved I didn’t discriminate by gender either.

“Just give us the Oracle and you won’t get hurt!” the blonde from earlier screamed.

“Fuck off!” I said.  A big guy was blocking the door to outside but a statue swing to his nuts put him down.  You know, for a secret organization that has been around for centuries, they couldn’t fight for shit.

I ran outside and I saw a white van pull up.  The doors opened and a pretty black girl leaned out.  She had on pink robes that exposed her breast.  I slipped in the grass and fell on my ass.

That was when I noticed the robes covered her left breast, not her right.

The rest you know.  Now I am a member of the Fellowship of the Tit.  I have sworn the Six Oaths on Six Tits and now I too wear the pink robes.  My left nipple is exposed to all for sexuality should be free and never censored or controlled. 

Together we shall learn the secrets of the Oracle and tell the world.  We will bring in a new age of sexual enlightenment to all who want to hear.  We will not turn you away because you read the wrong books, see the wrong movies or like the wrong things.  We are the Fellowship of the Tit and the Oracle is for us all.      

Wednesday, July 04, 2012

Fiction: The Purple Emporium

The Purple Emporium opened in 1996.  I am sure about that because I had just graduated from college with a business degree which meant I was highly qualified to be an assistant manager at the fried chicken restaurant in my home town.  I was pretty depressed by how I was 23, single and smelled like fried chicken and biscuits.   I was the ideal customer for a new brothel.

Since this was North Carolina and not Nevada, they didn’t actually call it a brothel.  The official description was Lingerie Modeling and the unofficial description was Jack Shack.  It was located a foot outside the town limits and the lobby had a jar where customers could contribute to the sheriff’s department monthly bribe.   It was a quasi legal place with a one hundred percent real place to get your rocks off.

They had the best shit there.  Other places would charge you 40 dollars for a back rub and a handjob but the Purple Emporium was the only place where you get could a double blowjob from a pair of Siamese twins for just twenty-six dollars.  Their names were Clea and Cleo and Clea preferred to take the facial.  Thirty-six dollars would get you a handjob from a horny virgin and forty-six dollars would get you a titjob from a woman with tits bigger than your head.

That wasn’t even the specialty shit.  Eighty-six bucks got you a blowjob from your best friend’s hot mom.  Ninety-six dollars got you half an hour of spanking the celebrity of your choice but you got to call an hour in advance.  You could pay a hundred and six dollars and get an hour with your High School crush.  It was worth every penny to finally see Theresa Thompson’s tits, but I got to tell you, she didn’t fuck half as well as I imagined.

Six dollars could get you the best sex of your life but not many guys were willing to try it.  I knew one guy who did, Denny, and afterwards he was as depressed as a kid who slept through Christmas.  He said that once you’ve had the best, you realize that all the sex you will ever have will never be as good as that one time.  That is some deep shit there.

The lady who ran the place was real nice.  She told people that her name was Sephorella Bliss but the girls just called her Mama Bliss.  One night she was drunk and confided in me that her real name was just Jean so I can see why she went with Sephorella.  Anyway, Mama Bliss was a big woman with big tits and the best damn black hair you ever saw.  She ran the cash register and she never fucked the customers. 

At least, that was the official story.  See, I was a frequent customer there.  I was making good money and I didn’t really have anything to spend it on.  I couldn’t date because I was working the night shift and I never liked fancy cars so I had plenty of money for the Purple Emporium.   I went there so often that if you blindfolded me, I could recognize them just by touching their tits; which is something I did one Christmas when business was slow.

Anyway, one day I go there and Mama Bliss asks me what I am in the mood for that night.  I looked at their list and I was staring and debating what I wanted.

“How about I let you pop your load in my hair for sixty-six dollars,” she said.

“Sure,” I said.  I wasn’t big into hair but Mama Bliss had the best damn black hair you ever saw.  I paid her the money and she took me by the hand and we went to her office.

I never saw the office before.  The rest of the Purple Emporium was all fancy.  They had the Graveyard Room with actual graves, they had the Steam Room with all the marble tiles and they had the Cheese Room which I am not sure is all that hygienic but the office was pretty plain.  It just had a desk, a couple of chairs and a couch.  I mean, there wasn’t even a tastefully nude painting anywhere.  It was really normal.

Mama Bliss Sat on the coach and told me to stand by her.  She unzipped my pants but I had to get my own cock out.  She let me wrap her long black hair around my cock and I jacked myself.  Mama Bliss looked up at me and smiled.

Her hair was nice and soft but you know, it’s just hair.  It took me a little while to come.  Mama Bliss said lots of nice things about how nice my cock looked, and how all the girls there loved my cock and that she was getting wet just looking at my cock, so that helped. 

I finally shot my load in her hair.  Mama Bliss turned her head and made sure I got all into her hair.  It was like she was showering and my sperm was the water.

Then shit got really odd.  Her hair soaked up my sperm like a sponge.  Now she always had the best damn black hair you ever saw; all glossy and thick, but now her hair became something else.  It looked like outer space.  My sperm turned into stars that settled into strange orbits and little planets appeared and some of my sperm flew around like comets trapped in a celestial journey that would last ages.

At first I thought maybe I was going through some sort of afterglow delusion but no, I saw stars in her hair.  I saw my sperm turn into a galaxy in the empty space of the best damn black hair I ever did saw. 

Mama Bliss gave me a washcloth and I cleaned myself up before zipping up.  She gave me a nice kiss on the cheek while the stars turned in her hair.  I don’t remember leaving but since I woke up in my bed the next day I guess I got home.

I kept going to the Purple Emporium until they closed about two years later.  Just because you see the universe in a woman’s hair is no reason not to keep getting laid.  I never brought it up with Mama Bliss and Mama Bliss never offered to let me come in her hair again.  That was okay.  Once was enough.

Eventually we got a new sheriff and he was a Born Again Dick so the Purple Emporium had to close.  It was a real sad time but in their final week, everything was sixty-six percent off so I got some sweet deals those final days.  They closed up and most of the girls filtered into the community.  They took jobs as school teachers, nurses and one really hot librarian. 

I heard Mama Bliss went to Florida and opened another place down there.  I am not sure about that but it might be worth checking out.

Wednesday, June 20, 2012

Fiction: Magic Cock

Look, before we get started, I want to warn you about something.  No, I’m not married.  No, I don’t have an STD.  Can you let me finish?  Christ, stop trying to unzip my pants too.  This is important.

I have a magic cock. 

No, seriously.  I know I said that at the bar but think about it, would a hot lady like you normally go home with a guy that looks like me?  Yeah, I know.  You never have one night stands but tonight is different.  I have heard it before.  This isn’t my first time at this pussy rodeo.

Come on, listen.  I want you to be ready before you touch my cock.  See, it has these powers and women just know on a subconscious level that I am packing magic cock.  That is why you went home with me and that is why you are ripping my pants off.  Oh shit, don’t touch it ye-

Ah hell.  No, go on, keep crying.  You need to get that out.  Trust me, you will feel better after the tears are all out.  You probably are thinking about a bad break up you had years ago, or maybe thinking about someone you never told that you loved?  Am I right?  Yeah, I knew it.

I would like to mention that you haven’t let go of my cock.  You’re crying like a baby but you still have a grip on my cock.  See what I mean?  Magic cock.

No, I don’t mind.  Keep a hold of it.  It feels nice in your hand.  Honestly, if I got turned off by crying, I would never get laid.

What does the magic cock do?  Lady, all sorts of things.  Most women realize they need to leave their boyfriends.  Other women end up getting new jobs or moving to some other city.  One girl I knew started stripping off her clothes and ran naked through the neighborhood.  I have no idea what her deal was.  The girl was seriously repressed.

How did I get a magic cock?  Fuck if I know.  It has always been this way.  My first girlfriend found out she was a lesbian when she touched it.  This cock is crazy shit.

Feeling better?  Not scared?  Okay, that’s good.  Ready for more?  I can roll with that.

Put my cock on your tongue.  No, don’t stick it in your mouth yet.  You got to go slow with the magic cock. 

There we go.  Yep, I can tell by your eyes that you just learned some serious enlightenment right there.  No, don’t speak.  Just let it sit on your tongue

Yeah, you might want to hold it.  My cock gets all excited and won’t sit still.  Keep it pressed to your tongue.  Let whatever revelation come to you.  You got to absorb that shit. 

Don’t worry; I won’t come in your mouth.  Yeah I know everyone says that but trust me, I won’t.  If I come in your mouth, you will pass out from the world shattering wisdom.  You’re smiling but it’s true.  I’ve come in two girls’ mouth and both of them passed out.  I had to take them to the hospital and both were in a coma for a week.  Then get this, after they wake out of their coma, they both started cults.  Both of them talked about the infinite spermy wisdom.  It was really creepy. 

Oh wait, I appreciate you wanting to go down on me but I am really close.  We better slip it into your pussy right away.  Don’t worry; even if I come in the next two minutes, you’ll be happy.

Oh fuck.  Damn, this is a nice pussy.  Tight and wet and everything I need. 

See?  You just came, didn’t you?  Tell you the truth, I have learned to come quick because most women don’t last that long.

No, no, go ahead and tell me what you’re thinking about.  You’re dying to tell me.  I’ll just keep fucking.

You just realized something about your dad?  No, that doesn’t surprise me.  Really. 

Mind if I grab your tit?  Thanks. 

You want to quit your job?  Let me guess, is it because you only took the job because it was available and now it is killing your soul?  Believe me, that is real common.

Mind if I play with your pussy hair a little?  Thanks. 

You just came again?  Crazy isn’t it?

Wow, that is amazing about your sister.  Twenty years of therapy would have never gotten that out, trust me.

Uh, can you stop talking about how your grandmother’s death changed your life?  I am about to come here.

Fuck yes!  Oh, damn I needed that.

Shh, it’s okay.  You just cry.  There is a lot to take in, I know.  You’re a changed woman now.  A year from now, you’ll have a job you love, a boyfriend that is right for you and some real control over your life. 

You’re going to open a restaurant?  That’s nice.  Follow your dream, baby.

You know, I am glad it helped you.  Some day I got to find me a magic pussy because I got all sorts of issues to work out.  Shit, my alcoholic dad really did a number on-

Oh, you need to go?  Hey, you don’t need to make something up, I get it.  You got your life to get started on.  You don’t want to hear about my problems.  I won’t even ask for your number.  I know better.  You have a lot to work through and no time for a relationship. 

Take care.

Wednesday, April 11, 2012

Fiction: Offering of the Hour

Last week I got a call from an old friend from high school. Jonathan and I used to spend all our time together playing games, swapping fantasy books and other nerdy shit. When we went to college, I kind of fell in with a cooler crowd and I didn’t want to waste all my time dressing up for Harry Potter movies. Shit, I wanted to get laid. It has been a year since we have talked and I felt a little bad for it. The weird thing was that he didn’t seem to mind at all.

“David, if I sent you some music, do you think you could play it for a project my friends and I are doing?”

Visions of nerds having some sort of Elven ceremony danced through my head.

“What kind of project?” I said as non-committal as possible.

“The music needs to be played live,” Jonathan said. “We will be doing a ritual and although the ritual takes only an hour, we need some music for the first and last five minutes. We can pay you two hundred bucks.”

“Oh,” I said. Two hundred bucks could come in handy with Spring Break coming up. “Sure, I can do that.”

“Great, I’ll email you the music and the address,” Jonathan said. “Practice it and then come to the address this Saturday at noon. Thanks a lot man, I got to go. Bye!”

I smiled. Jonathan had hung on me. All this time I had felt bad avoiding the nerd and now he was cold calling me for a favor. It was ironic and the two hundred bucks made it easier to take.

I checked my email and saw that he had already sent it to me. I opened the pdf and saw some weird pages. It looked like they had scanned some really old music pages. There were notes written on the page but it looked French or some shit. The music looked odd but it was playable.

More interesting was the drawings on the margins of the pages. It looked liked someone had drawn dozens of naked men and women. I wondered what pervy crap my old friend was up to. Well, even nerds have to get some.

The week went by and I practiced the music on my keyboard. The music was pretty funky. It almost sounds like the music you would hear in porn music; repetitious beats and music that were timed for hip thrusts. It was pretty good though. Every damn time I played I got a stiffy.

When Saturday rolled around I went to the address. It was in an okay neighborhood with not too many foreclosures. There were cars already there and I wondered if I was the music for some sort of party. I hoped to God it wasn’t a sex party because I really did not want to see Jonathan’s junk.

A woman answered the door, which surprised me greatly. She was a big girl with bigger breasts spilling out of some sort of black corset. Her brown hair was heavily hairsprayed into a threatening aura around her head. She looked at me with disdain.

“We were worried you were going to be late,” she said.

It was ten to noon. I forced a smile because two hundred bucks is two hundred bucks. “I was running late,” I lied. “My name if David.”

“I’m Moonshadow,” she said. “Come on in and set up in the living room.”

I didn’t even smirk when she said “Moonshadow”. Two hundred bucks was a great night at the bars. I was going to be as professional as possible and get my money.

“Holy shit,” I said as I walked in the living room. My goals of professionalism went right out the window when I saw what they were doing.

There was a naked woman suspended from the ceiling. She had her hands tied behind her back and she was facing down towards to the floor. The rope was blue and criss-crossed over her body in hundreds of little knots. Her ankles were bound to her thighs and the roped kept her legs indecently apart. In fact, her sex was open and pointed right at me.

“Those knots are killer, aren’t they?” Jonathan said. “It took us hours to get them just right. The book was very specific on how they had to be.

Jonathan was in black jeans a black silk shirt. If it wasn’t for the lifelong acne on his face, he would have looked vaguely sinister.

“Hey, is this some sort of sex thing?” I asked.

Jonathan shrugged. “We don’t think so. Damien thinks the nudity represents a willingness to debase oneself before higher powers.”

“Wait, did you say Damien? Is this a cult?”

“Cult is an ugly word,” someone said behind me. I turned faced a man in green robes. I thought he was wearing a snuggie at first but nope, those were real robes with a hood. He had slicked down hair and a goatee like some sort of Vegas magician who does mind tricks on the street. He might have looked imposing except for the really thick glasses he wore.

”Seriously, is this a cult?” I asked. “I like money but shit, I can’t just sit here while you cut some girl up.”

Jonathan and Damien laughed. The girl in the rope laughed too. Moonshadow turned the girl in her rope so she could face us. The girl in the rope had a pretty smile and cute short red hair. Okay, mostly I was staring at her enormous tits.

“We’re not going to kill my girlfriend, David,” Jonathan said. “Sheesh.”

“This is your girlfriend?” I asked. I didn’t know what was weirder: the freaky cult stuff or the fact that Jonathan had a girlfriend.

“David, meet Megan,” Jonathan said.

“Hey Megan,” I said. It was really hard not to stare at her tits.

“This is why I didn’t want to bring a neophyte,” Moonshadow said.

“Can you play the piano?” Damien said. “The ritual says that to forgo live music is to tempt fate.”

“Yeah, again, what kind of ritual are we doing? I’m not religious but I don’t know if I can watch you guys do freaky stuff.”

“Tell me, David,” Damien said in a way I bet he thought was friendly. It came across more as condescending. “Are you familiar with the works of Zacharie Roux?”

“Is he a soccer player?” I asked.

“Cute,” Damien said. “Zacharie Roux was a monk who left the Church when he discovered that God was very much alive and still talking to us, but we were unable to listen. Roux discovered that God was a writer and that he was writing the story of our lives every day. He learned how to read God’s word in the world around us and he taught others. Some say he taught Alexander Dumas how to become a best selling author.”

“Oh, the guy who wrote Hunchback of Notre Dame?” I said.

Moonshadow, Jonathan, Megan and Damien snickered. “No,” Damien said. “Dumas wrote the Three Musketeers. It is one of the most read books ever published and Dumas often hinted that he had divine or perhaps infernal help.”

“I don’t remember any naked tied up ladies in the Three Musketters,” I said.

“True,” Damien said. “But Roux does. Roux wrote all of his secrets in a journal called Dieu Pen. It translates literally as God’s Pen. The journal has been published and spread by his followers. There are many copies and versions but recently I came across what I think is a first edition. We have been using it to read God’s writing.”

“Interesting,” I said. As long as he had the two hundred bucks, I was cool.

“It was awesome!” Jonathan said. “You have no idea, David! We did one of the rituals and it let us see the weather for the next year! Another ritual told me that Megan was interested in me!”

“I was pretty good about hiding it,” the naked girl said.

“Okay,” I said. “What does today’s ritual do?”

Damien smiled. “Today we will talk to God.”

God apparently likes music so I set up my keyboard. The others began to draw weird patterns in the floor with chalk. Thankfully no one else took off any more clothes.

Damien nodded towards me and I played the music. The others began to chant. It felt freaky but also silly. I only needed to play my bit at the beginning and at the end. My music only took about three minutes. I finished and sat there quietly. Mostly I tried not to star at Megan’s tits.

A few minutes later, something weird happened.

“Guys!” Megan yelled. “I am in a giant glass place! There are crystals and circles everywhere!”

I wondered if they had slipped Megan some peyote or something.

“Do you see God?” Damien asked.

Megan didn’t seem to hear him. “Guys? Are you there? There are other women hanging from ropes! I see black women, Japanese women, some Mexican looking women and Jesus Christ! There is a red woman here, like something out of Star Trek!”

Moonshadow reached out to touch Megan but Damien slapped her hand away. “No, we might sever the link. Her spirit is elsewhere.”

“Uh, guys?” Megan said. “There is a guy coming towards me and OH MY GOD! He has the biggest shlong!”

Jonathan took a step towards her but this time Moonshadow stopped him.

“Oh shit,” Megan said. Her legs spread apart wider. Her whole body shook violently and she cried out. It was one long moan.

Megan shook. Hell, the ropes shook with her. It looked like someone was banging the shit out of her. She bounced back and forth and the ropes held her fucked body.

I watched her breasts suddenly change shape. It took a moment to realize that they looked like someone invisible was grabbing her. That someone was holding her tits as they gave her the fucking of her life.

“Do you have no questions for your God?” a voice came from Megan’s throat but it sure as fuck wasn’t Megan. It was deep and commanding. Like your dad when he knows you have fucked up.

“God?” Damien said. He dropped to his knees. “God, is that you?”

“Yes, Eugene, it is me,” Megan answered in that freaky voice. “Your offering is pleasing. Her cunt is wet and ready for me. I shall speak with you.”

They sure as shit don’t talk about shit like this in the Bible.

“God, this is Moonshadow! I have a question too!”

“Of course you do, Hillary,” the voice answered. Megan’s eyes grew wider as something pulled her hair and fucked her harder. “All who are here can ask their question!”

“God,” Damien said, still on his knees. “How may we gain more knowledge to better serve you?”

“You want more knowledge to have more power you lying sack of shit,” the voice said. “But since I created you, I forgive your selfishness. Go to your history professor and offer yourself sexually to him. After a week of oral service, he will let you borrow his more forbidden books. Be sure to swallow.”

Damien looked very pale. “Uh, is there no other way? I thought sodomy was a sin?”

Megan cried out on her own voice. Her eyes grew wide and the shaking got more violent. She winced in a way that I had seen a few times in porn. I glanced at her ass and saw that the anus was wide open. The poor girl was getting her ass fucked.

“I created all sin, and all sin is good,” the voice replied. “And I am telling you to suck your teacher’s cock if you want power. The choice is yours.”

“Jesus,” Damien/Eugene said.

“Next question!” the voice called.

“Sir, it’s me,” Moonshadow said. As if God needed people to identify themselves. “How can I become rich and powerful?”

“Hillary, your journey is harder,” the voice said. “Mostly because you are a greedy and bitter creature created to make others suffer. If you desire money, you can achieve it by going to Dallas, Texas and seeking out the Queen in Blood. That is a leather club that specializes in dominating rich older men. Go there and tell them that you want to become an apprentice. They will sorely test and abuse you but if you persevere, you will have your own sugar daddy to abuse and despoil for the rest of your short measured life.”

Moonshadow became paler than Damien. “What do you mean but short meas-“

“Next question!” the voice boomed.

“I guess that is me,” Jonathan said. He didn’t look like he wanted to ask at all. “God, umm, what should I do to be happy?”

“Fuck,” the voice answered. At first I thought it was mad but no, he just meant fuck.

“Is that all?” Jonathan said.

“That is all there is,” the voice said. “But I will give you some free advice and suggest you try some Denacil acne cream. Next question!”

They looked at each other and then the looked at me.

“Ask your question,” Damien whispered.

I looked at Megan. The invisible hands were still mauling her breasts. I think he was out of her ass because she wasn’t making that wincing face anymore. In fact, she was smiling contently now as the fucking continued. Her eyes were half closed and she was off in her own little world.

“Yeah, I have a question,” I said. “Are you really God?”

Damien gasped. I think Moonshadow was ready to punch me. Jonathan however looked a little hopeful.

“In the beginning there was nothing,” the voice said. “And then I spoke the word and the word was FUCK! I created the earth to be fucked on. I created the sky so people being fucked would look up at it. I created the animals to fuck and to inspire fucking. I created people to fuck and fuck for me. I am your creator and all your petty desires, your daily trials and your lifelong goals are just to provide context for your fucking. Yes, I am God.”

“Fuck,” I said.

The voice grew silent. Megan’s voice became her own as she moaned, whimpered and cried out. An hour was a long time to be fucked.

When the hour was up, I played the music. The invisible fucking stopped and Damien cut her free. Jonathan put a robe around her and got her some lotion for her tender spots. Moonshadow gave me my money and showed me the door.

They didn’t contact me again.

Damien had dropped out of school and had moved in with his history professor. It was quite the scandal.

Moonshadow left town. I can only assume she went to Dallas. I tried looking up that club but it wasn’t listed anywhere.

Megan started some sort of weird burlesque/church thing on the outskirts of town. I thought about going to see it but they charge five hundred dollars at the door.

Jonathan was a different story. He left town and is traveling the country. He sends me postcards from time to time. He has been from one coast to the other. Mostly he talks about the women he is banging. He calls it his pilgrimage.

And then there is me. Sometimes I think that couldn’t have been God, but then I remember that voice. He’s God. There is no doubt. God exists and he is a big fucking pervert. War, politics, religion and all of history is just one big fucking background for the divine pornography of human existence.

I haven’t had an erection since. It is hard knowing that God is not only watching, but he might be jacking off to it.