Chapter 1: Lauren Fuckall

“Brothers and sisters, let us fuck one another, for Pleasure is from God, and whoever fucks knows God. Anyone who does not fuck does not know God, because God is Pleasure. If we fuck one another, God abides in us and His Pleasure is perfected in us. By this we know that we abide in Him and He in us, because He has given us of His Horny Spirit.”

Reverend Dicky Fumbel looked up from his Bible, a mien of ecstatic purpose on his clean-shaven face, as he addressed his congregation. “Brothers and sisters in Christ, were you listening? Did you hear? Did you allow the voice of God to speak to your heart? God is Pleasure. And Pleasure is God! And that is the great gift, the inestimable gift, offered to us – to us, brothers and sisters – free of charge, in Christ Jesus! You have heard the testimonies of so many others who have made that great step of saving faith before you. Do you doubt them? Or will you accept His call now?

“Now, I know that some of you may be worried, may be scared. Some of you may be thinking, ‘How can I be a true fucker for Jesus? Surely I am not worthy! I’m not enough of a slut, not enough of a stud. My cock’s not big enough, my cunt’s not wet enough, my asshole’s not wide enough! Lord, I am not worthy! Well, if that is the case, then, I invite you to come up to the altar now. Come, brothers and sisters. If you need healing, if you need prayer, if you need a word of prophecy, to strengthen you on your fucking journey, to raise you up to the heights of filth and fuckery that deep down you know you owe to God, then remember the words of Scripture –

“Come, all you who are horny, come; and you who have no pussy, come and eat! Why spend money on what is not pussy, and your labour on what does not make you cum? Listen, listen to me, and you will delight in the tastiest of cunt. Give ear and come to me; fuck, that you may live!

“Come now – yes, you, my brother!” Reverend Fumbel gestured to a young man in the congregation who was hesitating at the edge of the aisle. “Why hold back, brother? Come up now, and God will give you what you need!”

The young man, lanky and slightly pimply, with sandy hair, dressed in faded blue jeans and a T-shirt, looked nervous as he approached the altar. “My brother,” Reverend Fumbel called into his microphone, so that the entire congregation could hear, “have you not read what Jesus said?

“Do not worry about your life, saying, ‘Who shall I fuck?’ or ‘Whose cunt shall I eat?’ or ‘Whose asshole shall I lick?’ For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Fucker knows that you need them. But seek first His Kinkdom and His filthiness, and all these things will be given to you as well.

“Tell me your name, brother!” demanded Reverend Fumbel, as the boy reached the altar.

“Michael,” muttered the boy.

“Michael – tell us what you do in life: are your studying, are you working?”

The young man shuffled awkwardly, before muttering, “Well, I ... I paint things ... and I draw things...”

“An artist!” cried the preacher. “Michael, you have the potential to be an Artist of Lust! Why are you scared to answer God’s call to be His Consecrated Fucker?”

The boy muttered something inaudible into the preacher’s ear – but the latter was not about to allow it to stay private. “Brothers and sisters!” he bellowed into his microphone, as the young man turned bright red with embarrassment. “This young man says he has trouble getting a hardon!” The congregation clapped and cheered in encouragement. “Are we disheartened?”

“Fuck no!” shouted the crowd.

“Fuck no indeed!” echoed Reverend Fumbel. “Because we know that God heals all who come to Him, for His purposes! Michael, get your cock out, now!”

The boy continued to blush red, but unzipped his fly to reveal a rather small, flaccid cock. “Brother Michael, be not afraid! I call upon Deaconess Rahab to approach the altar!”

Blond deaconess Rahab was clad in a nothing more than see-through lace surplice, through which her ample breasts were visible, swaying and jiggling. Her exposed bald pussy glistened as she approached.

“Michael, isn’t Rahab beautiful? Doesn’t she reflect God’s glory perfectly?” Michael nodded, but his cock remained soft, dangling rather pathetically down the front of his jeans. “Doesn’t the sight of her hot cunt just make you want to fuck her to Heaven and back, Michael?” Michael nodded, his eyes fixed on Rahab’s hairless gash as the deaconess lay back on the altar and spread her legs wide for all to see – but his cock remained flaccid. “Don’t you just want ram your stiff dick deep inside that wet fuck-hole and paint her insides with your cum, Michael?” bellowed Reverend Fumbel.

“Oh yes, please,” responded the boy, “but ... but...” He gestured hopelessly at his soft dangling member.

“See, brothers and sisters, what a pathetic unfuckable wimp Michael is?” cried the preacher. “Look at that diddy little dick! How can something like that ever hope to fuck a glorious hot cunt like Rahab’s? How can God ever be happy with that?!” The congregation groaned in response, as they studied Michael’s poor derided penis. “But have faith, brothers and sisters! Have faith, Michael! For God can heal the lame, the blind, the lepers – and even the pathetic unfuckable droopy-cocked wimps of this world!” Reverend Fumbel stretched out both his hands towards Michael’s cock, turned his eyes heavenward, and called out, “Lord Christ Jesus, healer of the sick and the weak and the unfuckable, I beg of you, come down now to heal our brother Michael. Reach out your hand, stroke his poor weak dick, make it whole and healthy again. Transform it, Lord, as only you know how, into a big dick, a huge dick, a great massive motherfucking miracle of a cock – stiff, thick, throbbing, Lord, with a big purple head, Lord, oozing pre-cum – so that he can fuck Rahab’s wet cunt like she deserves! AMEN!”

The chorus of “Amens” and “Hallelujahs” from the congregation had barely finished when, miraculously, Michael’s cock began to twitch, and grow. Soon it was stiffening, and thickening, and its foreskin was retreating naturally to reveal a large, beautiful, throbbing cockhead, glistening with pre-cum – just as the preacher had prayed. Michael gasped and fell to his knees: “Oh God! Oh thank you Lord!” he cried, as the entire congregation burst into extemporaneous praise, lifting their arms to Heaven, crying out with words of acclamation and worship, and calling out loud in tongues of men and of angels.

Deaconess Rahab grinned in anticipation, as Reverend Fumbel cried out: “See, Michael, God is true to His word. Jesus is the Healer, the Saviour, the Fucker of Fuckers! See the cock He has given you. Now pick thyself up, Michael, and fuck that hot cunt!” Michael needed no further persuasion. He strode confidently over to the altar, grabbed Rahab’s ankles to yank her legs apart, aimed, and plunged his cock deep into the deaconess’ dripping fuck-hole.

“Fuck yeah!” screeched Rahab. “Oh Jesus, oh yeah, fuck me!” she continued, as Michael rammed his miraculous cock in and out of her wet gash, pounding hard and deep, his heavy balls slapping noisily against her buttocks. Between the screaming of the crowd, the ongoing ecstatic prayers of Reverend Fumbel, and the tight caresses of Rahab’s exquisite gloopy fuck-depths, there was no way Michael was going to last long: soon he cried out in ecstasy as his cock exploded, releasing wave after wave of hot cum deep into Rahab’s cunt. The deaconess screamed, rubbing her clit hard with the palm of one hand as she too climaxed.

“HALLELUJAH” screamed the crowd, as they burst into applause, praising God and marvelling at the miracle. Their fear banished and their faith thus rekindled, several more people stood up and made their way up the aisle towards the altar, praising God with arms and voices raised, some of them tearing off their clothes as they came.

But one young lady held back. She sat in the back row of the congregation, dressed as one would expect for someone attending a church of the Enlightenment: indeed, her blonde hair, pink stilettos, short pink latex skirt and crop top seemed to announce her as a well brought-up modern bimbo, a true Jesus fucker. But, though she did not stand, the Reverend Fumbel saw her, and knew, and his heart was moved. “Sister, I see you, sister,” called the preacher, gesturing to the girl through the crowd. “I can tell that you are troubled in your walk with Jesus Christ. How can the Lord help you today? Come forward, sister, and unburden your cunt to the Lord.”

Slowly, the girl stood. Unlike Michael, she did not seem unsure of her own sexual prowess, swaggering forward, swaying her ass like a true slut. The preacher noticed this: “Look, brothers and sisters, look at this filthy whore. Look at the way she dresses. Look at the way she walks. Look at that broad jaw – just made for sucking cock! And those tits – are they GM, pretty cunt?”

The girl smiled broadly. “Yes, Reverend Dicky, my parents are really Enlightened: they genetically modified my tits in vitro. I really like them, don’t you?” she grinned, kneading her full breasts through her top to prove the point.

“So how about showing them to us properly, Jesus-whore?” suggested the preacher – and Harriet did, pulling her crop top up over her large breasts to display her wide pale areolas – eliciting a series of scattered “Hallelujahs” and “Praise the Lords” from the congregation. “And tell us your name, sweet slut.”

“Harriet,” replied the girl, tossing her hair seductively and jiggling her tits some more.

“Harriet,” replied the preacher, “I’m so glad you chose to come forward today. See, some people think that just by being a fucking slut all their troubles are over, that nothing can go wrong in their walk with Jesus. And you look like a filthy fucking slut if there ever was one!

“Oh yes, Reverend Dicky, I’m a total whore. I’m doing Further Fucking at Kunt College. And I love to fuck – anyone and everyone!” smiled the girl.

“That’s the spirit, Harriet! As it says in Romans 2: ’God does not show favoritism – but glory, honour and peace for everyone who fucks.’ But tell me, then, Harriet, if you are such a faithful fucker for Jesus, why have you come forward? Unburden your heart to the Lord, Harriet.”

Harriet looked pensive for a moment, before saying, with evident caution. “Well, Reverend Dicky, my only problem is that, I’m going back to college next week, and for my Further Fucking course I have to choose a fetish – but I’m having real trouble: nothing seems to attract me, nothing gets my cunt wet other than straight fucking. My classmates all seem to have found fetishes which turn them on; even my best friend likes it when I piss on her face. But me ... nothing! Is there something wrong with me? Can I be a true fucker without a fetish?”

A collective sigh of empathy rose from the congregation, and the preacher nodded supportively. “Well, Harriet, you ask a good question. These days, even though we live in Enlightened times, we can get so hung up on kinks and fetishes that we can lose sight of what is truly important. I tell you this from the bottom of my heart, Harriet: I don’t believe you have to have a fetish. Indeed, I’ll go as far as to quote Titus 3 to you: ’When the goodness and fucking-kindness of God our Saviour appeared, He saved us, not because of kinks done by us in horniness, but according to his own mercy, by the fucking of regeneration and renewal of the Horny Spirit.’ See? Some people pursue fetishes because they are not biblically grounded in pure fucking, in pure Pleasure. But a Christian slut does not need a fetish, Harriet, because a Christian slut knows what is truly important – which is to let her cunt, and her throat, and her asshole be ravaged by every hard dick she can. Do you see?”

Harriet’s face broke into a broad relieved smile. But before she could express her thanks, Reverend Fumbel went on: “May I pray for you, sister? As it says in James 5, ’the cum of a righteous man is powerful and effective.’ Suck my cock, Harriet, so I can pray for you!”

As Harriet knelt on the carpeted floor and fed Reverend Fumbel’s thick cock into her wide mouth, the preacher lifted his hands and eyes to Heaven and began to pray: “Lord Jesus, we know how much our sister Harriet pleasures you, how much you accept and honour her as your devoted slut, your filthy fucking whore. We praise you, Lord, for making her so, for her big tits, for her wet cunt, and for inspiring in her the desire to pursue fucking as her holy vocation. And we ask you, Lord – if it is thy will – to help our sister Harriet to find wisdom regarding her kinks: either to find her true fetish, and soon, or to be at peace with being the dirtiest, filthiest, cunt-fucking whore she can.”

“Yes Lord!” moaned the congregation in response.

The Reverend Fumbel sped up his face-fucking. “And so, Lord, I anoint my sister Harriet with cum, for your glory, in Jesus’ name!” The congregation moaned and cried and sang and fuck-talked in tongues, as the preacher pulled his cock from Harriet’s mouth and began jerking on it, spraying her face with thick ropes of Jesus-cum. Harriet squealed with delight, her tongue lapping, her lips sucking, as she revelled in the holy ecstasy of feeling her face plastered with the fuck-blessings of the Almighty.