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WARNING! Very Graphic Fiction, New from 'FuknPunch'!
By The Grim Reverend Steven Rage
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Rated "R" by the Author.
culled from the depths of "PILATE: A Brutal Bible Tale" by The Grim Reverend Steven Rage, bitches.
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Time once again for "FuknPunch", the "Unemployed Child Care Clown" far-out fiction sample!
The Pharisees’ silent butler was purring and content. They were together and comfortable on the plush couch. The legs of the couch immediately broke and the springs popped. The butler really hadn’t noticed.
At the moment, the two of them were alone in the Pharisees’ nicely appointed sitting room, high atop the Lake Shore hi-rise. A crust of ice snuggled the butler’s smile.
Cold puffs of curious evil fingered its way throughout the penthouse apartment. The cold climbed up the walls and explored hallways. It found rooms left long unused and cracks no human can locate. It was sentient, this cold, and it quickly covered all forty-one hundred square feet. It sealed off the penthouse from the outside world, thereby making the interior a tight, no leak bubble.
The butler pressed himself against the Mighty One’s chest. He massaged the head of Lucifer’s penis. It was thickening; responding to his touch. The butler-pet could see and feel the barbs as they sprang up all along the devil’s grossly elongated shaft. The barbs were inwardly curving scorpion tail stingers and were sharp at the hollow tips. Poison oozed slow and fetid out of the hypodermic points of the barbs. The long veins of his cock throbbed and pulsed with intricate rhythms at times, other times, nothing at all. The rhythm did not require a heartbeat to drum.
The Diabolous was a void inside. The human image was merely window dressing for his flock. With this image the chest cavity was an empty drum. The lungs were not needed and a heart would only get in the way.
The devil was gently running his icy fingers through the butler’s thinning black hair. He used his lightest touch to pet and caress and love on his most favorite little imp. The butler’s countenance was smooth to the touch and undisturbed. The butler was not, nor had he ever been human. Therefore he was immune to the devil’s infectious fluids. The butler’s human visage was merely a shell, like his master’s. The butler was really a small demon who has been with Satan since before planet Earth did cool. This demon truly liked the butler costume. The Pharisees knew what he was; a gift from the Most Hated. They allowed the demon to use his powers which he did to keep the penthouse always clean and quiet and very comfortable.
Hell, on the other hand, was not as pleasant.
The hidden door slid open. Both Pharisees stepped out and saw the devil waiting for them. They instantly made themselves prone before god. They had been summoned by the Mighty One and he insisted upon the purity of nakedness. They lay side by side upon the floor. Short rips of air entering and exiting their lungs were expelling a fog of cold vapor. It went forth from the decay and rot of what remained of their mouths. The odor of their breath was nearly visible. The stench; a chicken left out all weekend and erupts of stink upon your return. The Pharisees knew this not. The cold power gave them reign over the diseases the Diabolous had bestowed. They felt, in fact, fabulous. Annas and Caiaphas Pharisee still saw themselves as beautiful.
The Diabolous had the Pharisees arise and come over to the couch. Satan patted the butler-imp affectionately and tousled its hair. It was soon curled up in the dented spot his master vacated and it groaned with delight. Bliss for the butler-imp is to be in the presence of the Most Hated.
The Most Hated
The Pharisees came to the devil. They each placed a sweet, full mouth kiss on the devil’s anus. The two of them then licked the master thorough and clean.
The Pharisees were leaned limp over the back of their destroyed couch and displayed themselves to the Diabolous. They were presenting and were to mate with the Mighty One.
Dozens of crawly, bug filled boils and carbuncles exploded ripe and ready from their torsos like a string of putrid firecrackers. Their master positioned himself behind Annas Pharisee. The more ancient of the two will be filled and blessed by the Diabolous first.
The Pharisees successfully brought about El Cristo’s crucifixion and sacrifice. It is time now for the full reward: The Final Rite. The Pharisees were good stewards and shall be blessed by the Morning Star. They were to be laid open and defiled by the Diabolous. Then they will be blessed with power from their lord and benefactor with a power that they, themselves, can control and use as they see fit.
Their rancid and crumbling human shells shall no longer be required. They will be able to exist in nearly any form they wish. The Pharisees will be free to roam the Earth, unfettered by human weaknesses. They could be solid or they could be vapor. Not a true deity, they will only be in one place at any given time. They will, however, be able to project themselves to wherever at will. The Pharisees were going to have a lot of fun.
They were still both excited and frightened of The Final Rite. They were scared of the pain; they knew it would be enormous. The devil was going to rip their shit open, but that was the price of admission to this carousel. Their souls were the remainder and the Diabolous held the Note.
Satan shall allow the Pharisees a few hundred years of respite and enjoyment of their newly rewarded powers. Then Satan will have them delivered, like Judas, to the bowels of his Hell. The Pharisees will then spend the remainder of Time skimming the floating slick of waste in the fetid, cold sewers of filth and despair. They will learn to wail and gnash their teeth in regret and agony. In time, they will come to believe that Hell is where they have always been as the memories of life elsewhere fades away.
The Pharisees will cease to accept the very notion of existence outside of their eternal prison. They shall shiver and heave in the thick frozen darkness, every moment cursing their fate. The one they bit into, whole and unyielding.
The Diabolous forced the head of his penis into Annas Pharisee. The first pair of weeping scorpion stinger barbs tore through his rectum. The old man screamed. Gurgling and spewing, the pain was sharp and wet.
Caiaphas saw his lover stiffen and contort. He knew it would be the same for him.
“Mercy!” a panicked Caiaphas implored, begged, “Have mercy on us, oh Lord!” he cried out.
The Diabolous merely looked across at Caiaphas and the Pharisee turned away in fear.
“Mercy,” the devil replied, derisively and with a scoff. He answered the request for mercy by shoving his bull of a cock to the hilt. Annas passed out, but you do not deprive the devil of his audience. The Diabolous slapped the bitch repeatedly until he revived and was full awake.
Annas came to as blood and whole sections of his gastrointestinal tract fell wet and lumpy out of his ass like spongy confetti.
Mercy, the Diabolous thought as Annas began screaming again. Mercy. Funny.
Humans are so funny.
If you dug that, you sick freaks, get the whole fucking book. Available in print and Kindle at Amazon.com and everywhere extreme fiction is sold!
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- A Brutal Bible Tale by The Grim Reverend Steven Rage
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