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The Virgin and the Whore	By : yazichestvo Category: A through F > Bible Views: 4747 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is an artistic expression of a number of mythological and philosophical concepts and motifs, not just a rude attempt to profane a religion. I have no legal ownership of the Bible, any Christian scripture excluded from it, or Hellenist

Chapter List
- 1-The Virgin and the Whore
- 1
Note: Far from being a mindless attack on Christianity, this is meant in part to express ideas from Greek philosophy, mystery religions, Gnosticism, and other mystical schools of thought that have been around for some time, and how they can be related. This work is fictional, its underlying suggestions largely grounded on opinion, and it posesses a simple a sprinkling of objective facts, such as the existence of the fragmentary passage below.
"Now it has been said that the Mother was the virgin and that the Bride was the whore, and both were called “Mary.” Why should the Mother be called a Virgin and the Bride called a whore?...-
…-Thus it has been said that Logos came for the salvation of Bride Sophia, for it is she who was bound under the dominion of the Demiurgos and became the whore to the archons and even to Satan." -Gnosis of Melchizedek (Found by Archaeologists at the Nag Hammadi Library)
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The long dark lashes of Mary fluttered shut as she closed her eyes, concentrating on her evening prayer. On her knees, she knelt before an open window, allowing the warmth of the sun to warm her blood, all the while sparing her dark-bronze skin, which well adapted to the climate of the scorching deserts her ancient Semitic ancestors had traversed to reach the land of her people. Her lips parted, moist and glittering slightly in the light, and she would have uttered a whisper, full of memorized words to a prayer she could repeat over and over, clinging to the repetition like notes of music which whisked away her emotions, and pushed aside all earthly thoughts. Yet the sun had warmed her blood too well, and she sighed at the loss of focus the outside world had caused her; the comfort had distracted her from her ritual. Her brows arching in annoyance like the Asiatic recurve bow so widely used in the region, she shut the window, and turned her back from the portal to the outside world, concerned with introspection and privacy beyond all else.
It had long been understood that sin was a component of mankind, and this was demonstrated in mystery religions all over the Roman world. What then, was one judged for? The sinful inclination, or the sin? Surely there was nothing that anyone had control over beyond their actions and their outcomes. Any other judgment dealt not with one’s intentions, but with the base impulses that all humans innately had, and could not be judged for. She tried not to become disturbed by the seeming impossibility of this, and many other ethical queries that raced through her head. Her gentle, round cheeks spread wide as she smiled to herself then, feeling herself depart from this world.
Her body seemed to evaporate as though consumed by fire, like some cremated sacrificial lamb. Her nostrils suddenly widened for a moment, catching the airborne scent of smoldering meat. She opened her eyes and stood up sharply, finding before her an altar to her Lord, upon which a lamb had been roasted. Of course, she recalled, she had made this offering not long ago. She bit into the tantalizing fullness of her lip out of nervousness, and strode forward, smelling the meat as her stomach growled. She was wolfishly hungry, and felt like a woman possessed. Her heart was racing. She felt famished to the point where a mortal fear of starvation had suddenly hatched inside of her bosom like a sea of foul eggs releasing a tide of malicious, scampering demons within her. Her meditative trance was obliterated as she bent over the altar, and bit into the meat like a feral animal, devouring it hungrily face-first, and with her hands. She reveled in the explosion of sinful, nearly raw, fleshy flavor that came far closer to bringing austere meditative blankness to her mind than any sort of meditation she could remember. Somewhere in the almost incoherent thoughts that she continued to harbor within her fading sense of self, The Lord’s commandment took root and grew in the back of her mind; Leviticus 17:12 Therefore I said unto the children of Israel, No soul of you shall eat blood, neither shall any stranger that sojourneth among you eat blood.” The guilt of her transgression assailed her, and a small tear trickled down the young woman’s innocent bronze face.
She had broken a law, albeit a strange law that seemed more concerned with petty physical ritual than spiritual good, but it was a law nonetheless, and she was a wretched sinner. Lamb’s blood was smeared over her face like some savage’s war-paint, and it mingled with her short-lived tears upon her gently rounded cheeks. As she lifted her head, it trickled down from her drooling mouth and onto her simple cambric clothing. She licked her bloody fingers, and let out a moan that sounded absolutely wicked to her. Her eyes widened as she realized that there was a wetness in her undergarments, a lingering moisture that left behind a horribly pleasant ache. She had orgasmed while she was eating! Her foggy memory went back to that primal moment when she’d been overwhelmed with her desire to consume The Lord’s sacrifice, and she began to sob again, looking much like a lost, hopeless young girl. Desperate to clean up, she stripped herself down. The conservative, restricting clothes came off slowly, exposing her dark skin to the cool air of her house. Her pert breasts were exposed to the air first, her nipples hardening like water into ice in response to the chill wind that was now finding its way into her home.
As the garment slunk to the floor, she felt a sort of liberation. She was herself now, her bare essence with no external layers. An almost narcotic calm stole over her, and her lashes closed with her eyes once more, as she stood nude and still. The hunger was pulling at her more strongly now, and with a glance at the altar, she hesitated only a moment, crying a little still and sniffling before bending over to munch on the tasty sacrifice again. Her round, peach-like ass was held up in the air, exposing her moist snatch for anyone who happened to be behind her. Blood and saliva dripped onto the altar, and before long, much of the sacrifice was gone into her belly. Strangely, she tasted grapes on her lips. Her vision was wobbling drunkenly, and she felt a sudden overwhelming desire to reacquaint herself with the pleasures of the world. Taking a deep breath, she inserted a bloody finger into herself. Her clit flared with supernatural lust and pleasure the moment it touched blood. Suddenly, a rich, deep voice recited something to her; “…and to show yourselves full of the divinity and majesty of the god, tear in pieces the flesh with gory mouths" it said. It was a poet’s voice, she decided, entrancing, suited for telling wondrous tales, yet it like a sheathed blade, she felt it concealed the potential for wrath. If that voice rose, it could match any war cry in power. Her face grew hot and shameful as she realized that her well-fed rear and positively dripping sex was exposed before the eyes that accompanied this melodic voice. She spun around. “That is the nature of the worship of Dionysos, my son.” Remarked the tall, muscular, bearded man behind her. His hair was silver, and both head and beard were curly, as was common for the Jews themselves, being Mediterranean peoples. Though he looked fairly young in some departments, particularly the eyes, there was a smattering of silver hair on his broad, barrel chest, but is was thin, adding only a certain manly flavor to the torso that kept Mary’s juices flowing just a little bit, though not enough to be visible. Trying in vain to cover the soft, copious globes of flesh that were her breasts, Mary hugged her arms around her chest shyly, her eyes downcast, looking childishly shy. The tears in her eyes emphasized this, and the only thing that ruined the image of modesty that was Mary in that moment was the gory mess around her lips, she began to wipe her mouth furtively, trying and failing at the same time to keep her generous bosom concealed. “What do you want?” She whispered, nearly choked with fear and uncertainty.
“I am Zeus, or as the Neo-Platonists call me, the Demiurgos. The self-creating father. Already, Hellenistic Judaism has associated that title with your own lord. I feel a new age dawning, and it starts with you.” He rumbled, musing to himself. Unfamiliar with the scholarly debates of the Roman world, Mary only stared at Zeus dumbly. Her dark eyes darted to the window as a rumble echoed in the distance, and in a flash, rain began to fall, stirring up the fertile smell of moist soil. Zeus’ chiton fell off as though slit off by a knife, revealing a hardened athlete’s body, and a distinctly gentile erection that frightened her even as something eerie within her clenched hungrily at the sight of it. “You’ve eaten the offering.” He said solemnly, striding with the might of a lion towards his prey. His exotic, grey eyes narrowed on her, fixing her in place like a nail.
“Bend over again.” He said sharply, a bit of a growl to his voice. He spun her around, and shoved her face-first into the puddle on the altar. Her ass was bared once again, and her nipples pressed painfully against the edge of the altar. The storm god’s touch sent a static thrill through her nerves, and the scent of wet soil seemed to grow stronger, more masculine with his proximity. It was then that Mary saw that virtually no mortal woman could resist the raw strength of the storm, and the force of fertility it represented. Would she be an exception? “Forgive me Lord, and help me to keep your commandments.” She whispered. “I am your lord!” Shouted Zeus, drawing back a massive hand that rivaled a lion’s paw, and slapping her rear repeatedly. Mary cried out at the shock, but found herself electrified by the sensation so much that she began to grow aroused. With the final slap, she moaned and licked her lips, which though clean in appearance, retained some remnant of the delicious sweetness of blood. “I have justly struck you in the spirit of retribution.” He remarked magnanimously, ceasing the treatment. “Now you must make a new sacrifice to me.” He added darkly, punctuated by a lightning bolt that made the house shake, sending shock up through Mary’s bosom on the altar.
Zeus’ massive hands squeezed roughly around her breasts, his calloused fingers pinching and stroking her nipples as his supremely un-Israelite dick slide slowly into her hungry pussy, taking her virginity, and drawing minor blood. The vicious god, who would later be remembered as a bit of a chauvinist, did not pause to let the pain subside, but began riding the devout Jew with almost bone-breaking force, rocking her against the massive meaty rod that impaled her. Mary moaned like a shameless woman- like a whore, and not just in the literal sense of a woman who sleeps with men for money; she moaned like a filthy whore, in the dirtiest sense of all. The power of the god that fucked her had entranced her utterly,and before she knew what she was doing, she was mindlessly submitting, even grinding against the thick, uncircumcised member, not only so much longer than Joseph’s- which she was actually familiar with- but also thicker, both in its godly majesty, and because it possessed a foreskin. In truth, like many circumcisions (not the majority, but many), Joseph’s had made him sexually incompetent. This was meant to happen at least a little anyway; the act was meant to be a sacrifice. His had gone badly however, damaging the nerves to the point where he had less control over his ejaculatory reflex. While Mary didn’t understand Joseph’s affliction as such, she knew she was being well-screwed by someone who was a full-man now, and then some.
She came once almost immediately, as soon as Zeus began pumping her, and did again as the pounding continued. She gasped and squealed wantonly, and her large breasts bounced wildly whenever Zeus took a break from roughly kneading them, sending bursts of pleasure through the sensitive flesh that made Mary gasp. A bolt of lightning tattered the sky in the distance as Zeus and Mary both let out a roar. They lips mashed together in a "French" kiss, hungry tongues circling, and Zeus blasted his seed straight up into her womb as she contracted around him a third time, and her stretched snatch dripped down on both of them. Mary was beaming, at peace like never before as her swollen clit rattled like a rickety wagon falling apart as it falls downhill. “Thank you, Lord Zeus.” She whispered reverently, her glazed lustful eyes filled with the same delight that countless Greek mortals, male and female, had held in their gaze as they regarded the king of the gods. As her trance faded, she realized what she had done, and panicked. When Zeus withdrew, she was silent and in shock for a few moments, and broke down weeping again. “I am a disloyal daughter of my people.” She lamented. “What have I done?” She asked hoarsely, feeling ritually unclean for the first time in her very Kosher life. She was trash, worthy of being burnt in the garbage heap of Gehenna.
Zeus raised an argent eyebrow. “It’s not over yet. The coming savior will be like Dionysos, and yet also like others. He will have more than one ingredient.” He explained solemnly, and gestured to the window, where a young man with curly golden hair smiled boyishly at her. He was already nude, and she could see the defined outlines of his muscled buttocks, broad shoulders, and hip bones, all pointing toward a well-shaped body. There was a glitter and a promise in his smile. She couldn’t tell what color his eyes were, as he wore two dark glass lenses over both of them, which she had never seen the like of. “Pleased to meet you, sweet thing. I’m Tammuz.” He remarked, causing Mary to frown. “I know you. You were a god of the Babylonian filth!” She remarked, eyeing him with undisguised hatred. Zeus laughed and stroked her belly, significantly undermining the dignified scathing glance she meant to deliver. She tried to speak, but her voice choked up with frustration and fear, and she stared down at the floor in misery.
“Well, hot-dog, you do know me.” Tammuz remarked. “You know who you remind me of right now? Ishtar. So defiant, even though she just really wants to be sated on that primal level. My consort- a sex and fertility goddess who sometimes bears the title “virgin”. Don’t ask how. What with stunning metaphysical truths, dual natures and symbolism, frankly most mortals can’t fathom the truth behind it all.” Tammuz remarked offhandedly with a casual shrug. "No offense.Anyway, I remember those three days Ishtar was in the underworld. I didn’t know then that I would become her replacement, so I lived it up, and fucked with my slaves… but you know, no one could really match her. No mortal has ever…” He trailed off, and removed his glasses, giving her a queer look. “Reminded me so much of her.” He finished, making his way toward her. She began panting as he drew near, as though some heat emanating from him was affecting her. His fingertips toyed playfully with her breasts, making her whisper for him to stop, pant, and strangely enough, lactate into his hands. If she had known more of Tammuz’s nature, she wouldn’t have been surprised. Her breasts swelled, and the milk continued to flow, rich and nourishing. It felt almost like an orgasm, and made her moan. In her mind, a Sumerian poem over 1,000 years older than the most ancient of scriptures echoed; Let the milk of the goat flow in my sheepfold.
Fill my holy churn with honey cheese.
Lord Dumuzi, I will drink your fresh milk. With a laugh, the dairy-associated god turned the milk in his hand to a lump of cheese, and stuffed it quickly into her mouth, almost gagging her with it. His erection was prominent now too, and the sharp tast of Tammuz's cheese seemed like an aphrodisiac, as upon swallowing, she immediately knelt to hungrily suck at the long member. She slid her full, kissable lips over his shaft, and began slurping at his cock, genuinely desiring to milk him. His hip bones seemed to grow sharper as he thrust forward into her virginal mouth, and the definition of his slim wait, contrasted by his broad shoulders, made her begin to finger herself as she sucked, but Zeus grabbed her legs, entering her from behind quickly, and making her utter a muffled squeal of glee as the god’s arousing electric shock fried her senses once more. As he came, Dumuzi closed his eyes and directed them at the ceiling, tossing his curly blonde hair back so that it wobbled on his head and Mary gazed up at him with adoration at how cute the young man was. She swallowed his milky cum whole, feeling much like the experimental teenager she was discovering she was, drinking as hungrily as she’d eaten the sacrifice. With that, the god was gone, and Zeus brought her to another seismic orgasm that drenched Zeus’ argent pubic hair with Mary’s feminine lubricant. “More!” she shouted, milky cum running down from her lips to mix with the milk that still dripped from her erect nipples. Her hunger had grown, and there was an odd craving now for a certain spot deep in her ass to be explored and probed vigorously.“There is a third.” Said Zeus with a crooked, rueful grin at his new favorite corrupted Hebrew bitch. “ME!” declared a heavy, harshly accented voice, and Mary turned her head to see a swarthy Pharoah, already sliding out of his loincloth to reveal a large, dark dick slightly thinner than Zeus’ but longer. He carried a whip.
“You call yourself a free woman? Do you think yourself other than a slave in this state?” He queried seriously, his eyes deadly and cold as a cobra’s. Mary might have once found philosophical meaning in this question- perhaps only three hours ago, which had been before she’d consumed the blood of the sacrifice, but now the talk excited her, and she dismounted Zeus, waving her ass in the air. “I’m your slave! Fuck me!” She shouted, absolutely thrilled at the taboo of screwing this ancient enemy of her people, and having his cum in the womb that would birth the new savior as well. Finding this too easy, the Pharoah swung his whip. His strength was superhuman- not surprising for one who was a man-god in his own right, destined for a paradisiacal afterlife in the fields of Yaaru, and not the evil afterlife, which was comprised of demon-filled rivers of fire among other things. He began whipping her roughly, causing blood to run down her back, but Mary only slid her fist into her pussy, and began screwing her hand. Her face was blank, nearly mindless, though she grinned whenever she was struck. Pleased at last with the submission, the Pharoah picked Mary up and impaled her the asshole of her big womanly butt on his swarthy member, causing the slutty Habiru savage (and he did like thinking of her as such) to clench him and push against him breathlessly, feeling a sense of blissful completion in her stuffed anus .
Zeus found her front, and inserted his long pole into her still gushing cunt, causing the small bush above it to stand on end with static that ran through her and vibrated the core of her being. Like a piece of slag between a hammer and anvil, Mary was double fucked by Zeus and the Pharoah. Zeus still shook her clit like he shook the heavens and earth, causing her to come almost continuously this time. They kissed ravenously, but her salivating, cum-filled mouth never seemed to rub off on the divine tongue of Zeus as it explored her open gaping mouth and bit at her full, kissable lips. Meanwhile, the nameless Pharoah pounded away at her rear, his massive ebony erection finding some pleasurable spot in that forbidden orfice she had never known of. It was too much for her; she went into a trance, enjoying the two divine manly bodies sandwiching her. The Pharoah squeezed her god-inflated breasts roughly, giving her bosom another milky orgasm as her spasming pussy did at the very same time. The two gods shot their gooey seed deep into her, and she felt the essence of the new religion to come entering her body even as she passed out from exhaustion and pleasure. The gods vanished, leaving her to sleep on her back with a stomach full of raw meat, a mouth dripping with the seed of a Babylonian god, and orfices well-plowed by divine uncut members.
In her dreams, she plummeted into hell. Around her was a sea of broken glass, and mutilated souls. On her back, she lay chained as a serpent slithered around her waist. As the pleasure began to fade from her mind, she went numb, consigning herself to this fate. “You have the gift to know right from wrong.” The snake whispered. “I gave it to you. This is not wrong. It is only harm to the soul that makes such wanton behavior wrong. If you can still love after this, and if you do not hurt those who love you, both the sins of the flesh and the mortality thereof- are nothing.” He whispered, and began to transform. He was a dark angel, to be sure, with a head full of black feathers instead of hair, and wings to match. He was pale and tattooed with cuneiform writing. “My job is only to test you.” He whispered, licking her clit with a skillful forked tongue, and eventually biting her and injecting some venom that intoxicated her like wine. She giggled drunkenly, and stared at the cracked ceiling of tartarus in a daze. After a few moments of lying there dejected, as satan, an incomprehensible monster of darkness and ink black tendrils bound Mary, tying her up,and prepping her with a few minutes of penetration. When she was ready, seductive female and male demons took turns with her, spattering and filling her body with tar-black cum that seemed to excite Mary and burn her at once. Female demons with red skin pressed their breasts against hers and exchanged sticky black saliva while their scaly tails pumped her. Knowing she was being tested, Mary tried not to come in this most humiliating of ways, but deep down she found herself loving, not only the tendrils that bound her, but the woman-on-woman action, and came again and again. Somehow, her body had no limit today. At the peak of her pleasure,and baptised in the restorative water of life (or semen)- from Zeus, demons, and others, she ascended like Ishtar from the depths of the underworld.
In a flash of inspiration, she understood ; her soul was imperishable, and her body was the container of that spark. Disregard for the pleasure and beauty of the baser, bodily kind was far from enlightened, for the essence of Sophia within her had been saved. In the physical, there had always been the embryo of the divine. There was no stain, no guilt, and no mark upon her that could taint the divine spark she had been impregnated with in her savior’s conception. The laws of silly ritualistic sins like sodomy had little to do with salvation, but in the final days, she would be safely housed beside a gentler god- the logos, a brother of Dionysos, the god of revelry and ferility. Her son Dennis, who would one day be called “Christos” would preach this. Gnostic sects that preached sexual Libertinism such Carpocrates, or the Borborites, who preached that what one did with the body was insignificant, or that the flesh was even made to be denigrated, were eliminated by the Orthodoxy that would later arise. Later, Universalism, the belief that all people will be saved in the end,(as the Zoroastrians preached) was crushed, even though it was once believed by high ranking church fathers. “Remember;” Mary heard as she ascended. It sounded like Satan, and he sounded pleased. “It takes more than a bit of fun to sully something as divine as a soul.”
- 1
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The Virgin and the Whore