Cock of Ages Ch. 03

"So . . . sayeth . . . the . . . LORD!" I said, clicking my 'climax button' as I came again, splashing my life-giving seed against her cervix while triumphant music wafted over us. She managed one more orgasm before collapsing, and I pulled out and immediately stood up.

"Thus hast thou been blessed by God," I said, as she huddled half-naked on the mattress."

"Thank you, thank you, my Lord," she whined. "I am not worthy!"

Like hell she wasn't -- I never thought a preacher's daughter would be such a righteous lay.

"Thy work here is not yet complete," I added, as I caught my breath. "For hear me: when thy child is born, that child shall be outcast. Steal away with thy child unto the city known as Tampa, as Hathor did with Abraham's son, Ishmael, and raise that child there as thou buildest thy ministry."

"Y-yes, my Lord!" she agreed, getting back on her knees. "It shall be as you command!" She had a blank, flushed, dazed expression that was part sexual ecstasy and part spiritual bliss.

"Wait there until thou receivest a sign. Gather unto thee followers, maidens who are filled with the Holy Spirit, and teach unto them this gift of blessing I have commanded thee. Thus sayeth the Lord!"

"Yes, my Lord!" she cried.

"Now clean thy secretions from my holy staff. Hum thy favorite hymn whilst thou workest." Even though it would be a while before I could get another full-blown erection, no reason why I couldn't enjoy another devoted hummer. I still had some time, yet. A double-shot of engineered antibodies would help protect the brat I just put into her belly, too.

Oh, I'm a bad man. I had just taken a sweet, innocent, God-fearing little missionary girl and completely ruined her for any other man. No 1950s farmboy would be able to match 21st century sexual technology -- not when it was backed with the full force of divine revelation. Worse yet, I had possibly started a heretical pro-sex cult, something Christianity in general just didn't tolerate. That thought amused me, for some reason. I've never been much of a church-goer. Sure, it meant Shelly and her bastard were in for a hard, hard life, but she wouldn't be the first minister's daughter to end up with a big belly.

No matter. She'd soldier through, I figured, with nothing less than God on her side. Maybe I'd look her up in the future. I had sent her to Tampa, where our next stop was scheduled, maybe I'd come back for a quickie and see how she was doing. I groaned, interrupting my musings. Her nimble lips had reinvigorated my dick, much to my surprise. Of course, the sheer perversity of the situation was arousing, but she did know how to suck a mean cock. I interrupted her, turned her around, and re-entered her pussy from behind again with a savage thrust.

Might as well make sure her ovaries had plenty of super-charged sperm to choose from.

I drugged Shelly one last time as she lay recuperating from her blissful rape, and when she was asleep I acted fast. Packing everything back in the trunk was easy, after I got changed, and so was loading the trunk in the car. I drove the girl to a nearby forest stream, about ten miles outside of town, and left her on a pretty, grassy hill next to the water, naked as the day she came into the world. As an added bonus I stuffed three tabs of MDMA up her gooey slit. By the time she woke up from the sedatives she would be rolling her little brain out, in love with everything in sight.

I added one final touch: I put another religious tract featuring me on the cover in one hand, and I took a child's temporary tattoo and applied it to her left breast, over her heart -- temporary for the 21st century, actually. The solvent that could remove it wouldn't be invented for seventy years. Until then, she would bear a whimsical little harp about the size of a quarter.

Nothing like a little stigmata to really bring the experience home. It would give her something to think about while she coped with an unexpected motherhood. Talk about a righteous lay.