Paul And Jesus: Quarry of Tentacles

A short story about our lord and savior Jesus Christ and a devout, enthusiastic disciple.

Paul starred up into the tangled thicket of public hair covering Jesus' genitalia; a maggot in the dense underbrush of a semen soaked bush, brittle yet beaconing for his nose, his lips, his face to be pressed up against it. His coarse dry hair, like that of a nappy headed n****r, served as the gates to a new world. A world of new wonders and old feelings of the grotesque aura of filth that comes from the anal annihilation he so craved. Even now, unsure of what was to come he felt his rectum breath with new life as Jesus' mammoth thighs compressed around him. This casket of drooping leg fat and greasy hair reminded Paul of those Arizona summer days, spent back in Juan-Josè's burrito van on his five minute break. The dehydrated beans still crusty and caked to his a*****e. Suddenly adrenaline bubbled up from inside him and the thing he had so desired happened. For onto Jesus' rolling b***h tits of biblical proportions, a spew of brown liquid erupted from Paul's gaping mouth and he felt part of his life deplete from him and the feces emptied out like a broken oil drum, spilling over Jesus' breasts, pumped with collagen. Filled with colonies of estrogen, taking root in the supple deposits of excess fat caused by years and years of McDonalds and KFC. Such foods should not he eaten by any besides the ethnicity they were designed for: the Negro race, because the alien entity referred to as "negroid" are the only ones who's life styles require so much physical exercise, in activities like avoiding the local police force, and steeling honest, hard working white peoples' tv in the dead of night, that they burn enough of the refined lard to compensate for their own one dollar meal. Now as Paul emptied the boundless ocean of excrement onto this dark skinned doughnut eater's chest it spread like wildfire, and he reacted as such. For a short second Jesus pushed Paul away, recovering as the added weight strained his meek bones and Paul had a chance to take in the sight of his adversary, and temporary lover. Stepping up to the challenge like the valiant knight towards the quarry of the dragon, he began his anal exercises. Though he began with vigor and tried heedlessly to continue with such force, he did not realize just how much that expulsion of fecal matter took the life out of him. Paul was French, and naturally the bacteria and waste of other men was the only sustenance he would allow to support him. With so much of the precious mahogany liquid gone he began to shake, and he fumbled the d***o he pulled out of his robe. Eyes still locked with Jesus', they stood there squatting like two homicidal locomotives, locked to the rails of their course but unwilling to move. Mutual assured destruction, and yet something had to be done. S**t dripped from the bottom of Paul's lip and every pat onto the puddle of diarrhea was an eon. Deers, locked in each others head lights. Finally, Paul made the first move. Flinging two d****s at Jesus he began spiraling s**t from his a*****e like a cyclone of putrid mud. Directing the stream, he spun in the direction of Jesus  and- From beneath the breast of the darkness tentacles made their way, slithering through the air and wrapping around Paul's appendages, and making their slimy ascent up the narrow, damaged hallways of his a*****e. They traveled up through his rectal passages and through his body, finally protruding from his mouth like a second blue-black tongue, with prongs on each of the tentacles glorious apex. Pulling back sharply and sinking their razor teeth into Paul's face, Jesus tentacles locked the poor boy in place and began probing his organs. Destroying the tissue of his kidneys and slamming on the walls of his bladder he made Paul piss himself. Not satisfied, even with this level of humiliation, Jesus pumped the boy's intestines with his own fat, and gave a Cheshire cat grin and Paul gasped, trying to keep the feces in, failing as it turtled out of his a*****e and yellow gelatinous substances slowly seeped out of his anus. Now, understanding what was to come, Paul faced his destiny of bloody, phlegm-like discharge and concentrated his will. "Chinese", he thought to himself, thinking about magazines of old men, red faced and squinting, using precise energy control. It was to these magazines of ancient Asian literature that Paul masturbated to, day after day with disregard for bruising and chafing along the violet skinned shaft; he knew them well. The protruding, amber mucus developing from the tentacle infested sphincter of Paul's pulsating a*****e retreated as he shifted his blood flow inward, redirecting the liquid with heavy composure like constipation. Jesus, infuriated at his failure to ascertain sustenance required to secure the diminishing bulges of cascading lard all down his body, groped for Paul's thighs and pulled himself inward. He heaved his mighty vessel of waste directly to board the fleeting ship of the young boy. He roared with inhuman tone, the screech bursting through layers of greasy lard and echoing softly throughout the gaping holes of his endless mass. The yeast infections of his monstrous torso condensed beneath the huge, overhanging breasts and supplied reinforcement for the base tentacles at the edge of Paul's rectum. The smaller tentacles begin to stretch the outer rim of the tight, and once shapely hole within the sweaty crevice of Paul's a*s-cheeks. Jesus, for a moment, remarked on the shape of Paul's pathway to joy as he reminisced about the days before the rise of black culture...before the misshaping of Paul's sweet, firm gate. The memories enraged the grotesque worm and the probe tentacles surged outward at an even greater force. Paul winced and felt his knees buckle beneath him as fissures appeared in the edges of his numbing a*****e. Luke warm puss, crystal clear, surfaced at the shore of the widening cracks as the cylindrical strands of pure torture slithered through the open wounds and out the other side. They weaved a great web throughout the once small cavern of nerves as the lesions appeared further inward and the stretch of soft material grew thinner. Pain and warmth rushed to Paul's conscience like spam mail through the Internet; millions of messages a second. A moan of utter desperation and fear rang over the church bells in the far off distance. Where was God? But laughing with only one free hand. The delicate stitching that ran through the gaping chasm became the basket to Paul's immobile body. Merciless, Jesus' teeth gleamed in yellow light of the dank apartment complex. Cockroaches watched in disbelief as their home was torn apart... Though expanded. They scuttled forward, eager to make usage of this larger breeding grounds as Paul had, in previous encounters, very limited space to offer. The dark, gaping entrance to this french child now completely consumed his face. The demon vines tied themselves together, sealing the air and the last chances of survival for Paul. Darkness submersed his cheeks along with salt water which burned the incisions in their sides. He choked on the blood pouring into his mouth... Innocent and pure... Compact with high measures of fecal proteins. The last fleeting thoughts of this pleasured soul... Simply the Arizona nights with Juan-Jose... And this newest... Most memorable encounter with Jesus Christ. When born again, Paul would surely spend all of his days seeking out this unique experience... Inventing and testing... In search of this anal satisfaction. Paul let go his bowels and bladders one last time. The thick, slow fluids emptied out onto the wet floors with numerous cockroaches and Jesus giggled with a sick jiggle of the rolls clinging to his neck. He looked upon the inverted a*****e and sighed. A work of perfection. Detaching the tentacles so as the art may savor itself for forever and all eternity as a living composure of life and jubilance. He slid away with only a trail of brown slime combined with his own feces for curious bystanders to follow and gasp in satisfaction; endlessly thankful for this message and picture of human appreciation. Paul would become the legend of human fulfillment.

Author's Note

I punched this out a couple months ago while I was pondering the Christian notion of the word love. I concluded that homosexuality was deeply rooted in the foundations of this doctrine, and decided to construct a story about an intrepid young man and the savior of all man kind. I dug this up while looking for something else amongst the infinite trash dump that is my word documents, and did not have the will power to correct it. I apologize for any spelling or grammatical errors. I was more interested in the metaphysics behind the fundamental idea, and this is what I am looking for in terms of responses. Thank you.

Reviews

[Fabian G. Franklin]

You are a very sick person and an offense to all believers in Christ.

[Vestigial Appendage]

Did any of you actually read this?

[SinnerInspired]

LOVE IT!

[...]

I thought it was ok even though there is no god.... but besides that it was ok.

[ni ni]

I am not going to down you because I am a christan, but, the story lines do not fit the time frame of when the supposed characters where around, is this suppose to be a newer version of Jesus or what you feel he would be like?