God is a Slut Ch. 06

Don't Meet Your Hero

LUCIFER

I was in my usual black leather corset, black leather boots, black skirt, and fishnet stockings. Only now, my corset was pulled down to my ribs, my black skirt was hiked passed my hips, and my garters were digging into the fat of my ass as I was taken from behind. My full crimson thighs were spread in a "V," my supple glutes rippling from the force of the pelvic blows that were being dealt to me. My spine was arching so concavely that my navel was level with my clit, my shoulder-blades protruded from my straining back, my arms shook in their straightened positions, my hands clawing at the wall. My head fell between my outstretched arms as a bead of sweat dripped down my brow and fell from the point of my nose. I panted and moaned in rhythm with the cadence of Jesus's thrusts, my eyes widening with each bout of increasing pleasure. Two-thousand years ago, I had fucked Jesus much like this for his final test, and he had denied me. He was every bit as good now as he was then.

"You said she was half-way gone?" Jesus asked with a firm slap on my scarlet ass, "Partially corrupted? Shouldn't she already be yours?"

"Yes, but she stemmed it." I panted, savoring his hatred of me, the way he fucked me like he was trying to make a point.

"How did she do that?" Jesus asked, his fingers gripping me now, kneading deeply into the fat of my ass.

"She damn near killed her immortal soul." I gasped, my head flinging upward, sending my black hair swinging in an arc, "She fought herself until her soul resolved into two halves of a whole; I've never seen anyone do that before."

"You're desperate," Jesus laughed cruelly, "you must be to come to me for help."

"I am!" I conceded through a yelp of pleasure, my back arching so dramatically that my breasts and face pressed against the stones of the wall, "Rachel has denied me at every turn, even when I had her!"

"And now you're whoring yourself out to me for favors?" Jesus laughed, covetously squeezing my breasts, the soft flesh of protruding from his grasping fingers.

"You won't take any other currency," I smiled back at him, one side of my face grinding against the wall while the other revealed my mouth gaping in pleasure, "and I don't mind in the least."

"I want you at my beck and call for a month."

"A week," I groaned as I grinded my ass against him, "and another week after if Rachel comes to my side."

"And I get to do everything I want to you." Jesus growled, squeezing my breasts until they hurt in just the right way.

"Anything!" I whispered as I felt myself climaxing.

"You know," Jesus laughed as he plowed into my sucking cunt, "you could have just asked. I would have gladly turned Rachel against God for free."

"Aaaaaaaah!" Was my only response as my face wrenched upward, my eyes widening in ecstasy.

"But since you're paying me so generously," Jesus growled lowly in my ear, "I'll make sure to really try."

My body twisted about the axis of my undulating hips, trying to expel the crescendo of ballooning pleasure that radiated from my pelvis. Jesus moved with me, pounding me mercilessly, his cock splitting my insides without pause, each repetition only making it worse. Sweat poured down my crimson flesh, spraying from my body with the violent jiggling of my breasts and ass, my open lips exalting against the wall with each desperate intake of breath. Jesus roared out behind me and blew his load with a final thrust. I felt his seed rush into me and seep into the depths of my womb, sating my womanly hunger. The last desperate throes of lust left me, and I breathed heavily as my heart pounded in my ears. Blissful satisfaction took over me, and I pulled from Jesus, savoring the feeling of his cock sliding out of me, the cum flinging from his tip to spray the back of my thighs. I turned around to my newest partner and smiled wickedly.

"What are you going to do to poor Rachel?" I asked him, my hand entangling in his wavy brown hair.

"Nothing," Jesus smiled back, "I'm just going to be myself."

GOD

"...and she'll do anything I say, won't you girl?" Rachel crinkled her nose at her new pet.

Anna Patterson was panting like a dog with her tongue out, her eyes large and submissive, her open lips curled in an adoring smile. She nodded to her master, her collar jangling, her nametag reading: "Rachel's bitch." Rachel patted her pet affectionally on the head and brought the college freshman's face between her legs. When I heard the wet sounds of Anna's mouth, Rachel sighed contentedly, leaned back, and smiled at me.

"You know you'll have to release her once you pass Lucy's final tests," I said, watching my favorite daughter being eaten out by her slave in the lavish living room, "right?"

"I know," Rachel sighed, giving me a faux pouty-face, "but for the next two days, she's mine. Aren't you girl?"

Anna nodded up to her master, her platinum-blonde hair done up in pony tails, her blue horns glistening in the sunlight, and her leather-clad slave outfit clinging vulgarly to her trim tan frame. Rachel smiled down at her, hiked up her own dress a bit further, and guided Anna back into her depths.

Rachel had changed so much over the course of Lucy's test. I liked her more this way on a personal level, but it worried me. Lucy always saved the hardest tests for last, and she'd already corrupted half of Rachel's soul. Even watching her now, I could see Rachel's dark side lying reveling in the use of her slave, enjoying the way Anna debased herself so willingly. I would have to do something I had failed miserably at for the last five tests; I would have to set an example. No longer could I be the slut I truly was in front of Rachel. Even if she believed the entire thing was an act to test her faith (and I had no idea how should could be so naive), seeing her lord and savior filled to the brim with cock and lapping up cum like it was candy was probably not a good perception.

I'm going to have to be the god she thinks I am, I thought, or she'll become the whore she wants to be.

Is it really fair to deny her what she wants? Lucy's voice rang in my head. Wouldn't it be the godlier thing to let her be herself?

It was you who corrupted her, I smirked back, she would be a nun by now if it weren't for you.

If it weren't for us. Lucy retorted. You could have left Rachel alone on earth, but you made her for this exact reason.

Why don't you come down here? I asked. Isn't your conjugal visit with my erstwhile son over by now?

I'm going to be limping for a week after that one. Lucy groaned. He sure resents me.

Not as much as he hates me. I frowned.

Lucy appeared in a puff of black smoke, her black hair a disheveled mess, her bra strap hanging over one of her red shoulders, her obsidian lipstick smeared, and her corset torn down the middle. She twirled her hand in an unnecessary bravado (always one for theatrics, Lucy was), and her messy demeanor righted itself perfectly.

"Hey Lucy." Rachel said with a slight wave and subtle moan, "God said you were just planning my next test."

"I was," Lucy smiled warmly at Rachel, "and I think you're going to love it."

"Tell me," Rachel said, motioning for Lucy to come over, "and share Anna with me; God has decided not to test my faith today."

"Interesting..." Lucy smirked at me and searched my eyes, "I wonder what changed."

"Testing her faith seemed so cruel after what we put her through." I said curtly, "She doesn't need two deities tempting her."

"Maybe..." Lucy said as she strutted over to Anna, then smirked over her shoulder at me, "or maybe someone is more afraid of losing than they're letting on. Rachel," she said, turning her attention to the pure child, "I'd love to share Anna with you."

Lucy glided next to Rachel on the couch, and spread her legs. Rachel slid her hands between Lucy's thighs and dipped her fingers into the devil's slit. Lucy's lips curled into a grin, and she eyed me over Rachel's shoulder as she leaned in to accept her kiss. Anna continued her dutiful licking as Rachel's tongue explored one set of Lucy's lips, and her fingers explored the other. Lucy let out an unintentional moan, her eyes flashing open to glance at me.

She's getting really good at this. Lucy's telepathic voice moaned in my mind. Like, really good.

Don't mind me, I said, I'll just sit over here and watch... by myself... flicking the ole' bean.

Lucy didn't respond. Rachel had slipped her free hand beneath Lucy's corset and undone the stringing that held it up. The devil's perfect crimson breasts burst from their constraints in a jiggle. Rachel's lips left Lucy's, and trailed kisses down her long neck. Lucy's eyes closed, her head inclining as a blissful moan escaped her black lips. Rachel continued kissing Lucy down her body until she reached her breasts, then took a red nipple into her mouth, and began to suck ardently. I heard the soft sounds of slurping mix with Lucy's increasingly desperate tenor. Rachel beckoned Anna from her nethers with a gentle movement of her thigh, then straddled Lucy's lap, bringing their crotches together. Lucy put a hand.

"Rachel," Lucy gasped, her eyes half-mast in lust, "only fingers, Honey; we can't have sex."

"Why not?" Rachel asked in a wining voice, "God and I had sex, but you and I only ever fisted each other."

"Because..." Lucy trailed off, "reasons..."

"Oooooooh," Rachel smirked, "I see! You're the final test, aren't you?"

"Damn," Lucy laughed, "I was hoping to make it a surprise."

"Do you really think..." Rachel teased as both her hands slid down Lucy's exposed torso and toyed between the devil's legs, "...you're a good enough lay to turn me from God?"

"Mmmmm," Lucy moaned, "maybe I'll give you a quick taste, just to put you back in your place. You've been getting so uppity since your last test."

"Bring it, bitch." Rachel smirked in an uncharacteristic display of profanity and arrogance. Lucy raised a single eyebrow and smiled out of the corner of her mouth. Five seconds later, Rachel was on the floor, writhing in the throes of unbelievable ecstasy, her screams echoing through the room while Lucy's fingers danced inside her.

"You were being such a little cunt, Rachel." Lucy giggled, "You're good, very good, but Honey, you're just human. I am the queen of sin."

"I'm sorry!" Rachel screamed, her dress hiked up past her belly, her juices squirting from her in a fountain that Anna dutifully caught in her mouth.

"So, Rachel," I said to the orgasming mortal as I lit a cigarette between my lips, "now seems like a good time to tell you what your next test will be."

Rachel stared up at me, her mouth motioning like it was trying to say words, but only guttural primal sounds of euphoria flowed from it.

"I think she's had enough, Lucy; you've made your point."

"DON'T STOP!" Rachel managed to scream. Lucy laughed merrily and motioned for me to continue.

"Lucy calls this test 'Don't Meet You're Hero,'" I continued, blowing out a cloud of smoke, "and in your case, your hero happens to be-"

"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!" Rachel screeched in ecstasy.

"Well, yeah, actually." I chuckled.

"Did you hear that, Rachel?" Lucy laughed as she clutched Rachel's crucifix in one hand, the other working the mortal into a frenzy, "you're going on a date with Jesus."

"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" was all Rachel could say as she orgasmed for the third and final time. Lucy giggled and withdrew her hand, then sucked her fingers as she watched the victimized mortal recover. Rachel panted on the floor, her legs splayed out, her chest heaving, her pale breasts rising and falling with her desperate gasps. Finally, she regained control of herself. She sat up, stared at Lucy with a possessed gaze, then crawled over to the devil, and pressed their lips in a heated kiss. Lucy smirked and accepted the mortal's mouth, her right eye staring tauntingly at me as her serpentine tongue entwined with Rachel's. When they were done, Rachel's glazed eyes had cleared. She shared a wicked smile with Lucy, then looked at herself. She'd been wearing the same outfit at yesterday, the revealing clothing made even sluttier by the tears and crusted fluids.

"I think I need new clothes if I'm going on a date with Jesus."

RACHEL

God had me dressed up in a strapless pink dress that revealed a tasteful amount of cleavage. I had diamond earrings and conservative makeup (Lucy wanted me made-up like a whore, but I declined). Lucy was in an elegant black gown that highlighted her impressive curves with a bodice that barely stopped halfway down her areolas. God wore her typical cream dress with the plunging neckline that revealed the inner portions of her ample bosom. The two deities were chatting across the table and smoking as the waiter served us. I declined a cigarette from Lucy; I didn't want my breath smelling like an ashtray when Jesus arrived. It wasn't lost on me that I'd changed quite a bit since my first day in hell, and I was straining to be on my best behavior for Jesus. I would be the perfect little Christian girl for him, and then... well, then I'd fuck his brains out. God, I really had changed.

C'mon Rachel, I thought, you're just an innocent catholic girl. Well, maybe not, but you can at least pretend to be one for just a few hours. Then when the lights are off, and the music is on...

"Is that Ghandi?!" I whispered to Lucy, pointing across white tablecloth of the upscale restaurant we were in.

"Yep, that's him." Lucy said, turning over her shoulder to see the bald spiritual leader.

"What is Ghandi doing in hell?"

"Oh," God said, narrowing her eyes, "he knows why he's here."

"There's Julius Caesar," Lucy motioned with her fork, "and there's Attila, and Alexander, and Mother Theresa-"

"Mother Theresa?!" I exclaimed, "Does anyone get into heaven?"

"Sure," God said, "if you're not a total asshole, you usually get to go."

I gawked at her, unsure if I wanted to broach the implication. I looked around the room, hoping I wouldn't find Mister Rogers or Bob Ross.

"Jesus is late," Lucy said, looking at the gothic clock on the wall, "again."

"He'll show up," God said, patting my hand reassuringly, "he's just bad at keeping schedule."

"We both know he's fashionably late on purpose," Lucy said, "because he's a self-entitled douchebag."

"How can you say that?!" I gasped, "Jesus Christ is our lord and savior!"

"Yeah," Lucy murmured, "We'll see how you feel about him in three, two, one..."

"HELLO, BITCHES!" A boisterous voice yelled from the entrance of the restaurant. I turned around to see a bearded man wearing a white sport's coat, dress pants, a gold chain, and aviators, burst into the room. Everybody in the restaurant collectively groaned.

"Oh, this asshole!" Ghandi yelled as he threw the napkin down on the table and got up to leave.

"Hey now, my hairless Hindu hell-raiser, why the animosity?" Jesus smiled at the fuming Ghandi.

"Fuck off, you fucking piece of dog shit!" Ghandi yelled in a thick Indian accent as he stormed past the messiah.

"Hey," Jesus yelled back at Ghandi, "I'm telling your manager at Xbox customer support that I was not satisfied with your service!"

"That's Jesus?!" I whispered to God.

"Yeah," God sighed, "that's him."

"Hi Mom!" Jesus yelled as his gaze zeroed-in on God.

"Hello Jesus," God said, "please don't call me 'Mom.'"

"What, do I embarrass you?" Jesus smiled as he sat down in the empty chair across from me.

"Mary is your mother," God said, "and you should call her; it's been a century since you two talked, and she's always nagging me."

"Yeah, I'll get on that." Jesus said, rolling his eyes, "Hey Lucy, can I bum a smoke?"

Lucy handed him a cigarette, then motioned to me. "Jesus, this is Rachel; Rachel, Jesus."

Jesus turned his beautiful brown eyes on me and smiled. "The pure child. It's a pleasure."

"The pleasure's all mine." I said meekly, too starstruck to notice the red flags waving from every banner. He extended his hand, and I grasped it lightly. Instead of shaking my hand, however, he turned it over and kissed the back. It was a move out of the cheesiest daytime soap opera, but it was still incredibly effective. It felt like I'd melted butter between my thighs.

"Another one of God's pet-projects," Jesus chuckled, "trying to become my replacement."

"I... I'm not trying to replace you."

"Sure, you are," Jesus laughed, "that's the prize! You win, you become the messiah. Let me tell you something Rachel: it's better to lose."

"A-a-a-are you testing my faith?" I asked through a stutter, "Because I will not fail you! I will not fall to the temptations of evil, you have my word!"

Laying it on kind of thick, aren't we? Lucy laughed in my mind.

Don't be a cock-block. I responded, glaring at her.

"Am I testing your faith?" Jesus laughed, "Your faith in what?"

"In you," I said, searching around the table for someone to back me up, "in God."

"Why would you put your faith in her?!" Jesus laughed, "Rachel, it's clear that you're not the best judge of character, but come on."

"It's all an act," I said, glancing at God's embarrassed face, "it's all just to test my resolve."

"Let me tell you something, sweet-tits." Jesus said, leaning in, "I used to be like you. I devoted my entire life to God. I was celibate, I hardly drank, I didn't gamble, I let everyone walk all over me. Then one day I get dropped on my ass in the middle of hell, and Lucy here tells me I have to pass seven tests to become God's chosen child. So, I'm super stoked, you know? Who doesn't want a chance to prove their worth to the almighty? So, I go through with it, passing test after test, resisting the greatest temptations hell had to offer. And you know what my reward was? Getting nailed to the fucking cross and bleeding to death for six hours. Trust me, it ain't worth it."

"B-b-b-b-but your sacrifice;" I stammered, "you absolved us of sin!"

"Ha!" Jesus laughed, "I died with shit all over me, begging our holy mother here to save my ass, but she was preoccupied at the time. What were you doing again, Mom? Was it getting spit-roasted by Nebuchadnezzar and Ramses? Or were you taking it in the ass from King Bera?"

"Jesus," God growled, "you're making an ass of yourself in front of your date! And you know damn well it was Lucy that convinced the Romans to crucify you."

"Don't blame Lucy for being the devil," Jesus said, "you could have helped me. You could have at least given me some real fucking superpowers! What was I supposed to do when the Romans came for me? Turn their water into wine and sprint across the nearest lake? Why not some super-strength, or at least nail-proof skin?!"

"Holy shit," Lucy laughed at my horrified face, "this is going so well!"

"And another thing," Jesus continued his rant, "you chastised me for fucking Mary Magdalen, while you were getting spit roasted by Moses and Noah! How am I supposed to take that? Was I supposed to overlook the hypocrisy, or just accept it as divine privilege?"

"You done?" God growled, "You finished with this little tantrum of yours? Because it's been two-thousand years, and I've more than made up for it!"

"By getting everyone to wear the instrument of my torture around their necks?!" Jesus yelled, pointing at the cross that I'd proudly worn every day of my life, "How is that making up for it? Every time I take a peak down at earth, I'm reminded constantly of the worst day of my life."