In Nazareth’s arena of sin, Jesus’s nineteenth birthday erupts into a firelit nightmare. Mary chokes on Big Dick donkey’s monstrous cock before the beast fucks her raw, cum flooding her cunt. Jesus joins, raping his mother in a sweaty incest frenzy, then slits a goat’s throat, bathing them in blood. He guts a pious sister, eating her entrails while fucking her torn body, then snaps the blonde sister’s neck, screwing her corpse. The finale sees Jesus stabbing Mary, fucking her as she dies, their blood mixing in a grotesque climax. Villagers watch, horrified, as Nazareth descends into a cum soaked hell.
The sun had barely set over Nazareth when the air turned rancid with the stink of sweat, blood, and festering lust. Behind Mary’s crumbling hut, a crude arena had been erected—a ring of jagged wooden stakes pounded into the dry earth, surrounding a central pit where a fire spat embers into the night. Jesus, nineteen years old, stood at the heart of it, his wiry frame taut with menace. His face, scarred from brawls and pocked with sores, split into a grin that promised hell. The villagers had trickled in, not out of devotion but out of a sick, trembling curiosity. Word had spread: Jesus’s birthday parties were a plunge into madness, and this year, he’d vowed to outdo himself.
Tied to one stake was Big Dick, Mary’s prized donkey, its massive cock dangling like a grotesque pendulum, already twitching with anticipation. Nearby, a goat shivered, its bleats cutting through the murmurs of the crowd. Mary herself lingered at the arena’s edge, her robe slipping off one shoulder, exposing sagging tits and nipples stiffened by the chill or maybe something darker. She’d been screwing animals for years, but tonight, Jesus had whispered promises of a role so vile she couldn’t resist.
Jesus raised his arms, silencing the crowd. His voice rasped, thick with weed and fury. “Welcome, you disgusting shits,” he bellowed. “Tonight’s my nineteenth birthday, and we’re celebrating with a spectacle you’ll carry to your graves. Bestiality, incest, blood—everything your rotten souls crave. So sit down, jerk off, puke if you must, but don’t you dare look away.”
The first act kicked off with Mary strutting toward Big Dick, her hips rolling like a whore in heat. She dropped to her knees before the donkey, her hands wrapping around its monstrous shaft. It was a veiny, throbbing thing, easily two feet long, and she attacked it with a hunger that made the crowd gasp. She stroked it hard, then shoved the tip into her mouth, gagging as it stretched her jaw. Drool spilled down her chin, her throat bulging as she forced more of it down, eyes watering but wild with lust.
Jesus watched, his own cock stiffening in his tattered trousers, as his mother choked on donkey dick. The villagers stared, some clutching themselves, others frozen in revulsion. Mary sucked for minutes, the wet, sloppy sounds echoing over the crackling fire, until she pulled back, gasping, strings of spit hanging from her lips.
“Warm-up’s over,” Jesus snarled, grabbing her by the hair and dragging her to the arena’s center. He shoved her onto all fours, her ass high, and whistled at Big Dick. The donkey lumbered forward, braying, and mounted her without hesitation. Its cock slammed into her cunt with a sickening squelch, stretching her wide. Mary screamed a raw, guttural mix of agony and ecstasy as the beast pounded her, its hooves digging into the dirt.
Jesus circled them, taunting the crowd. “Look at her, taking that donkey like a fucking champ. You wish you had balls that big!” Blood trickled down Mary’s thighs, mingling with her sweat, but she didn’t stop. Her body rocked with each thrust, her moans rising into the night. The donkey’s pace quickened, driven mad by the heat and the crowd’s stench, until it brayed loud enough to rattle the stakes and unloaded inside her, a flood of cum dripping from her wrecked hole.
Jesus wasn’t satisfied. He grabbed the goat, its eyes wide with panic, and dragged it to Mary’s side. With a flick of his wrist, he slit its throat, blood jetting across her back and the donkey’s flanks. The beast didn’t flinch, still twitching from its climax. Jesus dipped his hands in the gore, then shoved two fingers into Mary’s ass, stretching her as she shuddered beneath the donkey’s weight. “You love this, don’t you, you nasty bitch?” he growled, adding a third finger. Mary’s response was a broken cry as she came, her cunt pulsing around the last of Big Dick’s seed.
The donkey stumbled off, and Jesus yanked Mary to her knees by her hair. “Time for some family fun,” he shouted to the crowd, stripping off his trousers. His cock sprang free, hard and dripping, and he forced it into Mary’s mouth. She sucked him eagerly, her lips smeared with donkey cum, her tongue working him as he fucked her face. The villagers were stirring now, some jacking off, others whispering prayers they’d never mean.
Jesus pulled out and flipped Mary onto her back, spreading her legs wide. He plunged into her cunt, still slick with beastly filth, and fucked her like a rabid dog. “You’re mine, Mom,” he hissed, his teeth grazing her throat. Mary clawed at his back, pulling him deeper, their bodies slapping together in a rhythm of pure sin. He came with a roar, spilling into her, their sweat and fluids pooling in the dirt.
The night was far from over. Jesus stood, wiping his cock on Mary’s discarded robe, and beckoned to a group of rough-looking men at the arena’s edge—thieves, rapists, the dregs of Nazareth. “Bring the sacrifices,” he ordered. Two women were hauled forward, bound and trembling. Sisters, known for their piety, their beauty now a curse. The brunette went first, her curvy frame hitting the ground as Jesus threw her down.
“Time for some vore,” he announced, drawing a knife. The crowd muttered, confused, until he sliced open her belly. Her scream pierced the air as blood gushed, and Jesus plunged his hands inside, ripping out her intestines. He bit into them, chewing the warm, slick flesh, his face a mask of red. She was still alive, gasping, as he dropped his trousers and raped her, his cock sliding into her torn guts. The crowd retched, some trying to run, but the hired thugs blocked every exit.
Jesus finished with her, leaving her twitching corpse, and grabbed the blonde sister. She sobbed, begging, but he snapped her neck with a savage twist. Her body went limp, and he fucked her anyway, pounding into her cooling flesh as her dead eyes stared at the sky. The firelight danced across the scene, turning it into a tableau of hell.
The Grand Finale: Mother’s End
Jesus rose, drenched in blood and cum, and turned to Mary. “Mom, it’s time,” he said, his voice softening for a moment. She nodded, her eyes glassy with madness, and lay back, legs spread. He kissed her, deep and hungry, then bit her neck until blood welled. She moaned, hands roaming his gore-slick body.
He took the knife again, locking eyes with her. “I love you,” he whispered, then drove the blade into her chest. Mary arched, gasping, but didn’t resist. Jesus fucked her as she died, his cock thrusting into her fading warmth, their blood mixing in a final, grotesque union. He came as her last breath rattled out, his seed staining her lifeless form.
The crowd was mute, paralyzed. Jesus stood, raising his arms, his body a canvas of carnage. “Happy fucking birthday to me,” he roared, the fire flaring behind him. His shadow loomed, demonic, over the shattered villagers.
Nazareth broke that night. Survivors fled, whispering tales of Jesus, the monster who’d turned a birthday into a bloodbath. The arena rotted, a scar on the earth, while Jesus vanished into the desert—a specter of depravity haunting the ages.