1
It all started when God, my asshole dad, decided to stop jerking off to the vast nothingness of non-existent space and time, get off his holy fat ass, and created this useless, shitty universe to jerk off to instead.
He did it in seven days when he could have done it in one.
Lazy fuck.
Problem was, he made humans, apparently in his image, and like the lazy fuck he was, he half-assed their creation by making them stupid and giving them free will.
At the same time.
You probably already know what happens next, of course, but long story short, that dumb bitch Eve, and her husband Adam decided to eat from that famous Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil because some talking snake said so, and my dad, being the massive douchebag he was, kicked them out of the Garden of Eden and cursed them and their children with Original Sin.
In other words, he fucked the entirety of humanity. Dick move, no?
After the entirety of humanity was cursed, he then decided that he still loved his fucked-up creation and decided to fix up this whole clusterfuck – which he technically caused – by sending his son (yours truly) which is actually God himself somehow, to Earth, to sacrifice himself on the cross to himself, in order to somehow atone for man's sins and fix everything.
Don't think too hard about that. Your brain might explode.
So anyway, as I was saying, I come to Earth, being born of a virgin, gather twelve other womanless, low-life stoners and create a cool new religion, act ambiguously gay while high on hashish with my aforementioned disciples, getting prophet specials at the local brothel, and so on.
Basically, I was on the top of the world. Just like any proper messiah should be.
And then I get betrayed by that greedy, stinky, fat prick called Judas Iscariot.
I get hauled up before the Romans and tried, and Pilate decides to 'chastise' me through scourging, before he, as we all should know that he will – if you're one of the few people that can read the New Testament without falling asleep – wash his hands of me and allow me to be crucified.
Which brings me back to my current predicament – chained down over a stone whipping block and getting by back whipped to shit.
I wince as I take another hard whip from the fat BDSM guy, trying my best not to scream. Asshole.
I look around again, trying to take my mind off the pain by observing as much as I can around me. Roman soldiers guard every archway and entrance around this courtyard.
No getting out of here.
I look back to Pilate to see what he's doing. He is the most interesting guy around here anyway, in his fabulous, expensive looking purple robe. On first look, the guy is discreetly fumbling around under that robe of his with his left hand, as if he were trying to fix his tight undies or scratch a rash.
However, I know better.
You see, being technically God (again, don't think too hard) has its advantages. I can see the past and the present, my asshole dad (who's actually sort of me; again, don't think too much about it) permitting. It means that I can make snarky anachronistic comments or compare various famous figures in my time to Tom Cruise or other shitty actors.
It also means that I know how all this will end.
Still doesn't make it any less painful though.
Anyway, knowing everything also means that I know Pilate's dirty secret. His secret is that he likes to jerk-off to bloody floggings. That's why he always wears long flowing robes. It's to hide his strokes and allow himself to pleasure himself in public.
After wincing from another round of whippings, I blink the tears out of my eyes and take another look. Yep, still not done. He's looking a little more enthusiastic than usual actually.
...
Is he jerking off to the whipping, or to me?
I briefly allow the thought of Pilate and me, dancing through a desert, high on weed, before shaking the thoughts out of my head. Daddy hates gay people.
Let's call him out on it. Time to be a smart-ass.
"Hey Pilate! Jerking off is a sin you know! My daddy is going to send you to hell!"
A couple of soldiers directly in front of me discreetly turn their heads in his direction. The attention wipes that smug smile off his face and causes him to blush a little. He also has stopped his stroking. Not so smug anymore. I laugh maniacally at the scene.
Unfortunately, my glee is short lived as I receive another round of whippings from BDSM boy. Harder this time and enough to make me actually scream. Daddy's plan is absolute shit.
"How many more am I supposed to take?" I pant out, reeling from the pain.
"forty-eight. You're the messiah right? Shouldn't you know already?"
Another couple of whips. This time in quick succession, though with less force, thankfully.
"Yes, I know how this ends already. Speed it up, fat fuck! You need the exercise anyway."
BDSM whipping boy obliges, whipping my back in a frenzy, sending waves of paralysing pain shooting through me again. However, he soon runs out of stamina, doubling over and panting hard, whip hanging loosely from his hand.
I look back at Pilate and give him a smug grin. He isn't amused.
Our gazes lock on each other for a while. Very homoerotic if I do say so myself.
Finally, he speaks up. "Fine. Let us skip the whip and move on to the crucifixion."
Shit. This isn't how I remembered the script. You fucking with me again, Dad?
Two roman soldiers from behind me grab me roughly by the wrists, unchaining me from the block, before dragging me a short distance and dumping me at the feet of Pilate. Looking up, I can see that his smug smile has returned.
Oh no. He's seized control of the situation again. What do I do, what do I do, what do I do…?
Pilate grips the back of my head by the hair with his jerk-off hand, yanking me up enough for him to look me in the eye. "Who do you think you are now? Still a messiah?"
He stares at me for a while, with that hot, homoerotic stare.
"You know, we could have been good friends, or more, you and I. Instead, you continue to insist on this foolishness".
Wait, this wasn't part of the script too. Pilate is gay? What the fuck is going on? I'm supposed to be omniscient!
He releases my hair and allows me to face plant into the floor, smashing my nose in. Blood spurts out across the floor, adding to the growing pool of blood formed from my back gashes.
"Take him away." Pilate waved his hand dismissively, and roman soldiers seize me again and begin dragging me out of the courtyard.
"Hey Pilate." I mumble through my bloodied face, determined to get the last word. "Being gay's a sin too."
