Message-ID: <29875asstr$987351002@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: X-Original-Message-ID: <32168656.987340774977.JavaMail.imail@doodle.excite.com> From: Cameron Fisher Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=iso-8859-1 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit X-MIME-Autoconverted: from quoted-printable to 8bit by sara.asstr-mirror.org id JAA24112 Subject: {ASSM} The Truth About Easter {Morlock} (Caution) Date: Sun, 15 Apr 2001 12:10:02 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: assm-admin This story may not be posted on any website, free or otherwise, without my express permission. The following story may contain a subject that is adult in nature. If you are under the legal age you do not have my permission to read it. If you are of legal age then enjoy. Email the author at morlock13@excite.com --------------------------------------------------------------- There has been a lot of misinformation about the true meaning of Easter. Of course we have all read the Bible's account of what happened, but look who wrote it. A group of people with a lot to gain from good publicity for Jesus Christ. So the truth about what happened all those years ago has never been known. Until now. Now the truth can be revealed about the people involved, and let me tell you, it's not pretty. But the truth is all that counts and it must be told, regardless of those that try to keep it from you. So here it is, in all its glory. --------------------------------------------------------------- The Truth About Easter By Morlock Christ drew deeply on the joint, filling his lungs with the sweet smelling smoke. He held it in as long as he could then exhaled in the casual way of a seasoned pot smoker. He looked through the haze filling the small room and mentally counted his fellow occupants. Twelve apostles and their associated hangers-on, all in all about thirty people. Christ smiled as the effect of his last hit washed across his mind, bringing a dreamy surreal feeling to his surroundings. Looking down he saw the top of Mary Magdalene's head bobbing to and fro as she gave him one of her famous blowjobs. Yes, life was pretty good at the moment. "I suppose we should get this meeting under way," said Peter as he passed the joint he had just drawn from to a naked girl that was gyrating on his lap. "By all means," agreed Christ as he quietly shot his load deep inside Mary's throat. He turned to Judas, the man responsible for the group's finances. There was something about Judas that didn't sit well with Christ, the guy was too damn straight. Take now for instance. At the moment every apostle was either getting high, or laid, or both. Yet Judas just sat there by himself, quietly writing into his ledger. But no matter how suspicious he was the dude had a way with figures. He could make numbers dance like no one's business, and to be quite frank it was his talent that kept this group hip deep in money, grass and pussy. "So what's the deal with the folding stuff?" asked Christ. "Well," replied Judas as he pushed his glasses up his nose, "the sales in 'I Love Jesus' robes appear to be tapering off. I think it's time we got a new slogan, something like 'My brother was healed by the Son of God and all I got was this lousy robe'." He looked around at the nodding heads and then wrote down an entry in his ledger. The fact that most of the nodding was drug induced didn't really matter. Neither was the fact that they would agree if he had suggested they should all go outside and bugger every dog in town. Judas knew the idea would work and that was all that really counted. "How about the drugs situation?" asked Christ. "Well we're selling more than ever," said Judas, "however we are yet to see a decent profit from it." "And why is that?" asked John. He had to take a teenage girl off his face to do so. "Because whatever profit we make pretty much gets smoked straight away," replied Judas. "But we're making enough from the merchandise sales, aren't we?" asked Christ. "Not really," said Judas, "our finances are steadily dwindling. Even with the donations we get from our followers, bread and fish will only go so far. What we need is to get some followers with a bit more wealth behind them, and that means going into the bigger cities." "Well," said Christ, deciding to make an executive decision, "let's do it. Let's grab all our shit and head into Jerusalem. It should be pretty busy this time of year, what with the Passover and all." He noticed that Mary had that look in her eyes again and smiled. "Right after Mary here gives me the fucking I so richly deserve." *** Pontius Pilot was not a happy camper. Sure he looked satisfied, what with the longhaired brunette gobbling his cock as he pulled a cone of highest quality grass. But inside he was a sea of turmoil. He waited until he had climaxed and the brunette had dutifully cleaned up the mess and left before speaking. "Fellow Romans," he pronounced, "I am troubled." Clitoris Maximus looked around the room to see who Pontius was talking about. Aside from the redhead being rogered by a horse in the middle of the floor, Pontius and Clitoris were the only people there. He knew better than to point this out though, so instead he just pretended to pay attention while he watched the show in the middle of the room. "What troubles you, sire?" he asked. "It's this whole Jewish Passover thing," sighed Pontius. "All these troubled Jews and no drugs to sell to them. It's a missed opportunity." "Unfortunately there are no drugs to be had anywhere in Jerusalem," said Clitoris. "I know, I've tried everywhere." "Then you're not trying hard enough," said Pontius. "I suggest you lean on the Priests, they always know where to get the best drugs, booze and women." "I've tried," lamented Clitoris, "but they say there is nothing to be had." "Okay then, let me put it this way," said Pontius. He leaned over to Clitoris Maximus and whispered in his ear. "If you don't find some drugs by Friday, it will be you under that horse next time." He pointed to the redhead that had finally managed to squeeze herself onto the stallion's raging hard on. "I'll get right on it," gulped Clitoris. *** Pederastus was watching the new choirboy with avid interest. There was something about the way he sang that caused a great stirring in the old man. Something heavenly, almost pure in it's innocence. Or it could just be because Pederastus wanted to fuck the shit out of him. In more modern times he would be considered a pedophile, a blight on society, but in these times he was what he was. A Priest. He settled back into his chair and fantasized about a blowjob from an eleven-year-old boy as his cock started to swell beneath his robes. He had just gotten to the interesting bit when he felt an arm on his shoulder. He looked up to see Clitoris Maximus staring down at him. "We need to talk," said Clitoris. "I already told you," replied Pederastus, "there are no drugs to be had in Jerusalem." He was mildly irritated that his fantasy had been interrupted. "That's the wrong answer," responded Clitoris. He grabbed Pederastus by the hair and proceeded to drag him into a back room. "Hey, what the hell do you think you're doing?" blustered Pederastus as he tried to regain his footing. He yelled in protest as he was flung face first onto the floor. Pederastus rolled over to discover that he was surrounded by Roman guards. "Now then," said Clitoris as he squatted next to the priest and took out his sword. "Tell us where we can get what we want." He examined the blade as if it was sharp enough to cut steel. "I swear to God, there are no drugs left in the city," pleaded Pederastus. "That's a shame," replied the Roman. "I was so hoping I wouldn't get any blood on this new sword." "You know," said a voice from the doorway, "there's one way you can get as much pot as you want." The group turned to the owner of the voice, a small man wearing glasses and an "I love Jesus" robe. "Shalom," said the man, "my name is Judas, and do I have a deal for you." *** Christ opened his eyes in the early morning gloom. He was surrounded by bodies in a small motel room just outside Jerusalem, a room he couldn't remember renting, or even crashing in. He sat up and winced as a sharp pain shot through his arse. He looked at the body beside him and saw Peter with a contented smile on his slumbering face. "For fuck's sake, Peter," yelled Christ as he jumped out of bed. "Can't a man get stoned around here without the risk of being sodomised in the middle of the night?" "What are you talking about?" asked a confused Peter as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "You asked me to do it." "I think," said the Messiah as he rubbed his violated butt, " that I would remember doing something like that." "Oh really?" asked Peter. "Do you remember sodomising every apostle in the room?" Christ looked around at his companions. They were all waking up and rubbing their tormented arses. "Funny," he mumbled to himself, "I don't remember doing that either." "You said something like, 'partake of this, for it is my body,' or something or other," said Peter. "And I don't even want to go into what you said when you got Luke to blow you." Christ shook his head in disgust. "You bastards are making this all up, I would never do anything like that." He hobbled over to the door of the room and swung it open. Bright sunlight stampeded into the room and drove daggers into Christ's eyeballs. "Mother fuck!" he exclaimed and slammed the door shut again. "I am not going out there unprepared," he proclaimed. "Joint?" asked Peter offering Christ a jumbo bomber. "Don't mind if I do." An hour later the door to the room swung open again, this time vomiting huge clouds of smoke as well as several stoned apostles, an extremely stoned Son of God, and a dozen chickens glad to have survived the night with their dignity intact. "So where are we going?" asked John. "We're going to find Judas," replied Christ. "Apparently he's found a buyer for our entire stash. And then tonight we're going to celebrate by having a huge dinner." "Will there be drugs?" asked John. "Yup," replied Christ. "Will there be women?" asked Luke. "Yes." "Will there be sheep?" asked Peter. The silence was deafening as all eyes turned on the apostle. "What?" asked Peter defensively. "Peter," said Christ as he put an arm around his shoulder, "we need to have a talk." "But I like sheep," said Peter, "they're so soft and cuddly." Christ just shook his head. "Okay, we're going to load up the donkeys and head into town. Peter, you walk up the front where I can keep an I on you." The group packed up their belongings and headed into town. *** Malachi Lieberman ran one of Jerusalem's best restaurants, The Loaves And Fishes. He had a very discerning clientele, which he ensured by charging high prices. So when he got a group booking willing to pay whatever he charged he expected a group with high moral standards. What he got was something completely different. Malachi new something was up when the first group stumbled through the door, obviously stoned out of their mind. From there it got steadily worse. When the group wasn't drinking every drop of wine in the restaurant they were hassling guests, or chasing farm animals between the tables. If it weren't for the money he would have kicked them out long ago. Instead he turned a blind eye, even when a bout of tabletop sex broke out. After a few hours of bedlam Malachi decided to retire to the back room and count the night's takings until it died down. Later on that night Malachi came out to find his restaurant had been trashed. Unconscious bodies were scattered everywhere, underwear was hanging from almost every piece of furniture that hadn't been smashed, and there was a donkey grazing in the desert bar. Spotting one of the group members that was actually conscious, he made his way over to demand an explanation. Judas saw him coming and didn't like the look on his face. He thought about trying to make an escape but Malachi was on him before he could move. "What the hell is this?" asked the restaurant owner, waving his arms at the destruction. "A party?" suggested Judas. "A disaster more like. Look at this place." "It's not that bad," replied Judas. "Not that bad? There's a donkey grazing on my falafel." "Well it's just one little..." "And what about the two girls in my Salad bar?" "What about them?" "They are having sex with my cucumbers." "Well..." "And don't even get me started on what on what that man over there is doing with that sheep." Judas reached into his robes and pulled out thirty pieces of silver. "Will this be enough?" he asked. Malachi snatched up the silver and inspected it closely. "That will do nicely," he said, smiling broadly. "I thought it would," sighed Judas. *** The following morning Judas approached Jesus with a request. "Can you do me a favor and sign some robes for me?" asked Judas. "Sure," replied Christ sipping a cup of coffee. "How many do you want?" "Oh, a thousand should do," said Judas. "A thousand?" exclaimed Christ, spraying coffee everywhere. "Too many?" enquired Judas. "Fuck yes it's too many," replied Christ. "Well couldn't you just wave your hand or something and do it magically or whatever?" "For fuck's sake, ever since that bloody water into wine thing you guys expect me to perform miracles every bloody day." "So that's a no is it?" "Yes," replied Jesus, "it's a no." "Well what about five hundred then?" asked Judas. "Fine," sighed Jesus, "give me the bloody things." He spent the rest of the day signing the robes. That evening Jesus and his disciples grabbed what grass they had left and a few bottles of strawberry ripple wine before heading down to the park. "You know," said Jesus as he wiped wine from his lips, "with the money we made from yesterday's sale we could buy twice our normal amount of grass. Then we could sell it here and make twice as much again. I think we could make some serious coin out of this, couldn't we, Judas." He looked around but Judas was nowhere to be found. "Judas? Where the fuck have you got to?" He noticed a mound of writhing bodies so he wondered over to see if Judas was one of them. The mound was actually a gangbang that had developed for no other reason than that it seemed like a good idea at the time. At the bottom of it was one female that Christ knew very well indeed. "Mum?" asked a shocked Jesus. "Hello, Son," she replied. At least Christ thought that was what she said; it was hard to understand her considering she had a rather large cock in her mouth at the time. "What are you doing?" asked Jesus. Mary took the cock from her mouth and said, "What does it look like? I'm getting laid." Jesus looked on in shock. His mother had something jammed in every orifice of her body, and someone's mouth clamped on each breast. The parts of her body that he could see where covered in cum. He was shocked, outraged, and not a little turned on. Mary looked at the bulge rising in Jesus' robe and smiled. Without saying a word she reached forward and pulled her son's cock free, before sliding it into her mouth. "Mmmm," she sighed, "it's been ages since we've done this." Christ ran his hand though his mother's cum-streaked hair and forced her head down hard on his cock. "Yeah, that's it bitch," he moaned, "take it all." She did indeed take it all and when he came she swallowed every drop with a smile on her face. "Did you like that?" she asked. Christ looked down at her, a hungry look on his face. Without warning he started grabbing people and pulling them off Mary, flinging them aside one by one. "How dare you violate my mother's temple," he exclaimed as one by one, people shrank away from him. At last his mother was lying naked and alone before him, her body glistening with cum. Christ knelt before Mary and stared into her eyes. "Forgive me, Mother, I know not what I do." He tore of his robe and pushed his way into her, driving his cock deep inside her pussy. Mary wrapped her legs around him, urging him in deeper. "That's it, baby," she cooed, "Fuck mummy's pussy, fuck it hard." Jesus did what he was told and fucked her as hard as he could, ramming his cock into his mother over and over again. His balls slapped against her arse with every stroke, driving sharp waves of pleasure up though the pit of his stomach. He groaned as he approached climax. "Yes, baby," urged Mary, "cum for me, cum in mummy's pussy." She smiled as her son's rhythm increased until he came, shooting his seed deep inside her. Christ pulled out and stood up, picking up his robe and getting dressed again. As he turned and walked away the crowd closed in on Mary once more, hard cocks going back to work on her sex- starved body. "Enjoy yourself?" asked Peter as Christ sat down beside him. "Shut up," replied Jesus and took the bottle of wine that Peter was holding. He lifted it to his lips and drained it in one gulp. "Are you Jesus Christ?" asked a voice from behind him. Jesus turned to see a group of Roman soldiers with swords drawn. "I'm Jesus, who wants to know?" he asked. "Jesus Christ," said the soldier. "You're under arrest for drug smuggling, please come with us." "And what if we don't want to come?" asked Christ. "We?" asked the guard. Jesus Christ turned around to see the park was completely empty, even the orgy had mysteriously disappeared. "Thanks a lot guys!" he yelled into the void. *** Christ found himself standing before Pontius Pilate in the Roman court of Jerusalem. He thought he was on to a good thing here. Sure, he was being charged with importing drugs into the city, but Judas had told him that the drugs they had sold had gone straight to Pilate himself. There was no way he would be convicted, as the Roman would be cutting off his own supply. So he wasn't too worried when Pontius called for any witnesses. "Yes, I'm a witness." Jesus turned to see Judas standing behind him. "What the fuck?" said a dumfounded Christ. "I said I'm a witness," replied Judas. "I saw the whole thing." "So did I," said an elderly Jewish Priest by the name of Pederastus. He pointed to Christ. "That's the man alright, he did it." "Who the fuck are you?" asked Jesus. The Priest ignored him so he turned back to Pontius. "This is ridiculous," he said. "Do you deny the charge?" asked Pilate. "No," replied Jesus, "but you're the one I sold the grass too." "Let the record show that the accused admitted to his crime," said Pilate. "Take him away to be crucified on the hills of Golgotha." "Hey, wait a minute!" cried Christ as he was dragged from the hall. "This isn't fair, I've been railroaded." His cries faded as he was dragged outside. When Christ was gone Pilate turned to Judas. "Can you guarantee supply?" he asked. "Yes I can," replied Judas. "But there may be some repercussions. Jesus is a popular man and someone may come after me." "Don't worry about that," said Pilate, "we'll put you in our witness protection program. Now if you will excuse me, I have sixteen vestal virgins to attend too. And I can guarantee you they won't be virgins for long." He made his way out through a back door. "Are you staying around for the crucifixion?" Pederastus asked Judas. "No, I have five hundred 'I love Jesus' robes to get rid of," said Judas. "I have a feeling that the price will be going up, now that JC is getting nailed to a tree." *** Christ stood in a prison yard with two other men that were condemned to death. Leaning against the wall were three wooden crosses. "I can't believe this," mumbled Christ. "Can't believe what?" asked one of his fellow prisoners. "I got framed, and now I'm going to die on a cross," replied Jesus. "Oh I wouldn't worry about that," said the prisoner. "It takes days to die on one of these things and the Roman guards don't want to hang around that long. Just fake your death after a couple of hours and they'll leave. Then you just wait for your friends to cut you down." "You've done this before?" asked Christ. "Oh shit yeah," replied the prisoner, "this is my third crucifixion. Honestly, you walk up to the hill, hang around for a few hours and then go home. Piece of cake really. They even get slaves to carry the cross for you." "Bad news," said a Roman guard as he opened a door to the yard. "The slaves are on strike so you will have to carry the crosses yourself." "Strike?" asked Christ. "They're slaves, they can't go on strike." "What can I say," said the guard, "they formed a union." "I can't believe this," mumbled Christ again. *** The trip up to Golgotha was torturous, but eventually the crucifixion was ready to begin. Christ found himself being tied to the cross as it lay on the ground, then the whole thing was lifted up. The base of the cross was dropped into a hole carved into the rocky ground. Above his head was a roughly painted sign reading "Drug Dealer". "Okay," thought Jesus, "all I have to do now is wait." So he waited. And waited. And waited. The next day Mathew, Mark, Luke and Peter arrived at Golgotha. The other prisoners had been rescued during the night so Christ was now alone. "It's about time you lot turned up," said an exhausted Jesus. "I've been waiting for ages." "Sorry," said Peter, "We didn't know where they had taken you." "Well if you hadn't run off like frightened rabbits last night you might have been able to find out a bit sooner," replied Christ. "We're here now, aren't we?" asked Mathew. "Just get me down from here." Christ looked down at his rescuers. "Where's the ladder?" "We didn't bring one," said Peter. "Then how are you going to get me down?" asked Christ. "We brought this," said Luke, showing him an axe. "An axe?" asked Christ. "Yup," said Luke, "we're going to chop you down." "I'm not so sure about this," said Christ. He was very nervous about the whole deal. "Don't worry, Boss, I know exactly what I'm doing." Luke started to chop at the base of the cross with the axe. In no time at all the wood chips were flying everywhere. "It's just about ready to fall," warned Luke, "you guys better get behind him and prepare to catch the cross as it falls." Mathew, Mark and Peter took up position behind the cross, their arms outstretched to grab it. A loud splintering sound came from the base of the cross. "Okay," said Luke, "here it comes." The four men watched as the cross started to tilt, then fell. A perfect plan except for one tiny flaw. The cross fell forward, away from the waiting arms of Christ's rescuers. "Oh shiii..." cried Christ, his words cut off as the cross hit the ground with a crunch, crushing the Messiah beneath its weight. "Oops," said Luke. Peter rushed to his fallen Boss and checked to see if he was ok. "Shit," he muttered. "Is he..." A worried Luke couldn't finish his question. "Shit," said Peter. "He's not..." "Shit!" exclaimed Peter. "He's dead, isn't he?" asked Mark. "This is not happening," said Luke. "What are we going to do?" asked Mathew. "I figure we have two choices," said Peter. "We can stay here and face the music." "Or?" "We can run like hell." A few hours later Mary Magdalene found Christ's body and took him to a tomb she had acquired. *** The rest you pretty much know, except for what happened to a few people. Judas entered the witness protection program and became a successful drug lord and merchandiser. Pederastus died of syphilis a few years after Christ's death. Clitoris Maximus finally pissed off Pontius Pilate one too many times and died of internal hemorrhaging after being sodomised by a horse. Pontius Pilate lived a successful life as a Roman Garrison leader until he was called back to Rome. There he became a nobody. Peter went on to a successful career on the public speaking circuit until he was arrested for having carnal knowledge of an underage goat. Luke never chopped again. The End. _______________________________________________________ Send a cool gift with your E-Card http://www.bluemountain.com/giftcenter/ -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+