Chapter 8

The congregation began nervously and awkwardly walking into the church and taking their seats for Sunday School, everyone afraid to discuss the eight hundred pound (or metric equivalent) gorilla in the room, namely what happened the night before. The children had just been dismissed to the basement floor for their classes when Darren Craft, the adult Sunday School teacher, began fumbling through his lesson plan. He was visibly tense and sweaty, wiping his forehead, as he looked at his niece, Becca Wilde, who sat uncomfortably close to her boyfriend, Greg Chambers.

Darren couldn’t quite look in her in the eye, nor his wife Evelyn, for that matter, as he had not only fucked Becca the night before, but he had taken her virginity. Then again, Evelyn was no slouch that night, and she kept a stressful distance from Greg, having let him use her while she was on the rag, something that she never did with Darren. Greg had also been a virgin, as the two of them had been “saving themselves” for marriage. They had even taken the abstinence pledge, but both had obviously broken it now. Of course, it having been an orgy where the lusts came out fully to play, Darren had then fucked his own wife and Greg had done the same with Becca at last. Even so, they had all strayed and they knew it. They had broken promises, vows, pledges, etc.

Nor were Darren, Becca, and their significant others alone. They weren’t even the only ones that they had fucked, just the first. Darren and Greg had both taken on the Goddess Azrael when she offered, as did Becca and Evelyn as well. All four of them had been intimate with Meredith Ward, too. Evelyn had also been intimate with David Warham, while Becca had been fucked good and hard by Renard Le Marchand, the Mayor himself. Darren had fucked the Mayor’s wife Michelle as well, while Greg had screwed Ellen Warham Kirby. This was all just the ones at the early point, before it all became a blur.

It was just at this point, as Darren deferred things by conveniently deciding to have the minister of music, Garth Somers, lead the class in the hymn, “I Sing The Mighty Power of God,” by Isaac Watts, that the disturbance began. Into the church main auditorium, all of them naked as the day that they were born, burst a sizable throng of townsfolk, each of them bent on having their way with the congregants and each other in the pews. Garth was secretly a little relieved, as it felt more surreal to lead hymns after an orgy than to even have another orgy. The cognitive dissonance of trying to be a “respectable” church officer after fucking so many neighbors was just a bit too much.

Besides, as a gay man and a power bottom, Garth had never felt freer than when he had taken first Indra’s cock and then Armin’s up his ass, and then list hadn’t ended there. Men that he would have sworn were completely straight had all given him plenty of dick in both holes, much to his delight. A short, thin man with little body hair who had always looked a bit youngish for his forty-three years and who had compensated with a goatee, Garth had been in his own personal Heaven last night. He had to admit that there was something very out of place about leading hymns for a congregation that included more than a few guys who had spit-roasted him. Married men, elders of the church, local elites, leading lights of commerce, politics, etc. had kissed, stroked, groped, face fucked, and buggered him, including Prasong Chatwilai, the Thai-born local chairman of the Conservative Party.

Prasong had converted from Buddhism to Christianity for his wife, Trudy, but he hadn’t been able to keep it in his pants, for her or anyone else that night. Nor had Trudy been faithful, having been screwed good and rough by not only Prasong, but his best friend Wendell Hearst. Wendell had lusted for her for years, but had never dared hit on her, let alone fuck her, until last night. That Wendell was married to Trudy’s sister Tracy added a dose of awkwardness for the party boss, who had also fucked his sister-in-law, who had been with her own husband as well, among many. All of this was remembered wordlessly, along with many more acts of debauchery, by the parishioners as they witnessed the invasion of their church by their neighbors, friends, etc.

They were far from the only ones who were shaken up by the previous night’s events, of course. Everyone in the congregation was a bit stricken with guilt, fear, remorse, arousal, shame, pride, embarrassment, vanity, uncertainty, etc. Many also secretly hoped for more, but did not dare to act differently than their neighbors or voice their fantasies in front of friends, families, fellow congregants, etc. Nearly everyone also had sore body parts, just not as sore as they had been just after they fucked. Practically everyone had also hit the showers afterward, as if that would cleanse their minds and bodies of what they now knew. This same scenario played out in other churches and places of worship, of course, but right then, the action was about to hit John Calvin Presbyterian Church like a tornado.

“Well, hello, ladies and gentlemen! I see that I haven’t come here a moment too soon. You were about to sycophantically praise a real jackass! What a waste of time! And you dressed up nice and fancy to do this, too! Doesn’t kissing Jehovah’s ass ever get old? And this is supposed to be what you get to enjoy forever, too! Really? What a waste of your lives and your eternities, too! So, as a favor to everyone here, since you guys clearly didn’t take the hint last night, I’m taking over this show for a bit, just as I’m basically taking over this town. I’m protecting it, after all. As the saying goes, I licked it, so it’s mine. I definitely licked the majority of you, one way or the other, and fucked you as well, like it or not,” Azrael laughed as she strode up to the lectern, quite naked except for snakeskin boots, of all things and a cowboy hat.

“Miss, I appreciate the gesture of protection, as I am sure that all residents are, but must you attach strings to that protection? A good deed should be done for its own sake, not for a selfish... ,” Reverend Coldbury tried to assert himself, only to be thrown onto his back by the sheer force of Azrael’s divine power.

“Oh, hush you! Every healthy relationship has a give and take. No sane person does something for nothing or expects something for nothing. That’s unbalanced and unfair by definition! The give and take here is plain and simple, folks! I protect you and in return, I get certain ... benefits from the good people of this town. I’ll be blunt here. I’m after your bodies, after your lust, your love, and your sexual favors. I want to fuck you all, especially Robert here as he promised me, and I want you to fuck each other as well.

“You’re all my bitches now, but I’ll treat you very well indeed. Much better than your god has treated you in the past. All I ask is not flattery. Who needs that if it isn’t sincere? It does nothing for me. I just want to play catch up in the sex department, having deprived myself for two thousand years until of late. That’s a helluva dry spell, wouldn’t you agree? I’ve barely broken it, pardon the pun, so excuse me if I’m horny as can be! How is that for a covenant, a deal, a bargain, a pact? You scratch my back. I scratch yours. Fair’s fair,” Azrael told the minister and the crowd, both from the church and from the town.

“Well, I suppose that some gratitude is in order, um ... miss?” Darren stammered for his part, not wanting to rub the powerful strange lady the wrong way.

“Azrael. El Azrael, to be precise. That was no mere murder of crows that attacked this town yesterday, in case you weren’t listening. That was a God. El Behemoth. He’s mentioned in the Book of Job. Same guy. We are both ancient Hebrew Gods, but we made the mistake of letting Jehovah claim our worship. It was a covenant that we should never have made with him. I spent two thousand years worshiping and serving and praising him, and for what? What did I have to show for it? I now have to recreate my own angelic host, having surrendered control of mine to Jehovah himself.

“What, did you really think that the ancient Hebrews were always monotheists? Seriously? There were hints and clues scattered through even Jehovah’s chosen scriptures about us, but you weren’t reading it carefully enough, I can see. You just took the clergy at their word, no less. Damn shame. The evidence was right there, plain as day. I woke up to the truth, two thousand years late, but still in time to rebuild my fucking army, as well as find a place to hole up. What better than this fine small town in the middle of Canada? It will take Jehovah a while to catch on, though he will, especially once the press get wind of things. By then, though, I’ll be ready for him.

“So, starting with this motherfucking town, I’m setting up shop and expanding my territory, if you will. More angels, more worshipers, etc. I’m confederate with a God of Justice named El Belial, among other Gods, and together, we and our camp are going to bring down the King of Heaven once and for all. You can be with me or against me, but if it’s the latter, tell me now, so we can get this over and done with, friends. There is no middle ground. If you’re with me, you’re in this community and you get my protection like all of the others. If you’re against me, pack your bags and leave town, because I will have this town’s fealty, and your bodies, now and forever.

“I’m giving you a chance to decide, because this is a war and I’ve sworn my protection for this town. It’s my town and I will protect it all, but I will not protect my enemies! If you oppose me and you stay, I will have to smite you. Think well on it. Declare yourselves by your willingness to do what I ask of you or not. You now have a task to prove your allegiance and gratitude to me for my protection. Strip completely naked. Top to bottom, head to toe, down to your birthday suits, as naked as the day that you were born. Do it and I will take it as a mark of your adherence to me. Do it not and I will view that as a refusal and will give you just one minute to start walking out that door before I smite you. Well, what’s it to be?” Azrael demanded of the congregation, waiting impatiently for them to start disrobing.

Becca Wilde was the first to begin stripping, not even nervously either, as she felt a certain pride in seducing her uncle for some reason now. She also very much wanted to have him, and others, desire and fuck her again. Nudity would please this deity and get her what she wanted, she was sure of that. Darren Craft was next to take off his clothes, followed by Greg Chambers, Evelyn Ramirez Craft, his Argentine bride, Garth Somers, Prasong Chatwilai, Wendell Hearst, Trudy Chatwilai, Tracy Hearst, and many others in the pews that day. Most were rather nervous, but they did what was asked of them and undressed until completely nude, much to Azrael’s delight and that of others. Even Kumar Bali, Vicky’s father, shocked as he was, had the good sense to obey this divine mandate to disrobe.

One who did not was the Reverend Walter Coldbury, minister of the church. Another who did not was Hilda Bali, Kumar’s wife and pianist in the church, who had been sleeping with Walter behind their spouse’s backs for some time now. This adultery Walter had excused by telling Hilda that marriage to an Asian, even one flirting with conversion to Christianity at her urging, didn’t count (untrue) and that their spouses had been sleeping together (very true). In fact, Walter wanted to leave Jacquette for Hilda, but he hadn’t quite gotten around to it yet.

Azrael smirked as she saw who did and who did not bare themselves before her eyes. Only four people defied, much to her pleasant surprise, perhaps because most were sheep and lacked the courage to disobey a goddess. Most of this congregation was Pavlovian in its response to authority of any kind, anyway. At least her authority did them some good. Even the ones who refused her did so in response to a perceived authority, that of Jehovah. They had chosen their camp, as it were, and they were not about to change it for anyone.

“Your name, sir?” Azrael asked Becca Wilde’s stepfather, Shawn Ward, who just happened to be Quinn’s more obnoxious brother and a bit of a bully ... it was significant that Becca’s mother was with him as the fourth person to remain clothed.

“Shawn Ward, madame. I will not lie down and just take whatever bullshit you’re feeding us! I am a Christian and have been since I was born and baptized into this church! Jesus will not be happy with anyone who denies his name. He made that plain in Scripture. This, here, what you’re doing, that’s the Mark of the Beast and whoever disrobes will burn in Hell for it! You’re the Beast, aren’t you? The Antichrist, right? I never believed in the Bible that literally until now, when I’ve seen proof of its literal truth and inerrancy! Here you are, standing in rebellion against God, blaspheming him to my face, and I realized that the Books of Daniel and Revelation were dead right about all of this! When’s the Rapture going to happen?” Shawn snapped at Azrael, who burst into laughter.

“Last chance to leave town and save your hide, or else expose it to do so, Shawn Ward. Do one of those two or die. Here and now. Decision time. Life or death consequences, either way. You can’t bully and abuse me the way that you do with your wife. Are you ready to die?” Azrael challenged Shawn.

“No, but that’s why we’re leaving. Come on, Ariel. “ Shawn instructed his wife, Becca’s mother, “Whatever happened to religious freedom, anyway?”

“You still have it. You have the freedom to still believe whatever you wish and yet disrobe. You have the freedom to leave town. You have the freedom to disrobe and sincerely worship her. And you have the freedom to die, which you will pretty soon if you don’t either strip or else leave,” Robert warned him, speaking as an angel on Azrael’s behalf now.

“Oh, I’m leaving. Ariel? Come on!” Shawn turned to his wife again, his eyes widening with shock as she began to undress instead of taking his hand and going with him.

“No, Shawn. I’m staying. I’m so fucking done with you that it’s not funny. When Evelyn and I came to Canada, I hoped to meet a great guy. Well, I found two losers. Becca’s father, who is in prison ... and you! She did a little better herself, but perhaps I will, too, once you leave! Goodbye, Shawn! I’m done being your punching bag! So, you’re getting even more religion and you think that I’m impressed? The amount of religion that you had so far didn’t stop you from hitting Becca and me, did it? It’s over, Shawn! We’re through!” Ariel spat at him.