In a blood-soaked wilderness, a feral Jesus, 20, stalks his prey- merchant, soldier, zealot -his cock hard with sadistic lust. He pins the merchant, ramming a spike through his hand, whipping his flesh raw, then rapes his ass brutally. The soldier chokes on Jesus’ chain, ass torn open as cum spills in the dirt. The zealot’s wolves mount Jesus, their cocks splitting him as he sucks the priest dry, then rides a beast to climax. Bruised, cum-drenched, he towers over the broken, humiliated men, vowing to return. This is no savior—this is a masochistic monster born of sin’s darkest depths.
The air hung thick with the stench of blood, sweat, and animal musk as Jesus trudged through the desolate wilderness. At 20, he was no longer the gentle soul of Nazareth—something feral and twisted had taken root in him, a sadistic hunger that pulsed in his veins and throbbed in his cock. The jagged rocks and gnarled trees loomed like silent witnesses to the depravity he craved, a world where God’s light didn’t reach. His robes clung to his sweat-slicked body, his erection already straining against the fabric as he heard the first distant cries—moans of pain and pleasure intertwined.
This wasn’t a pilgrimage. This was a descent into a hell of his own making, a playground where he could unleash the sadistic fuck he’d become—and revel in the masochistic torment he’d endure.
The first figure to emerge from the shadows was a merchant, a grotesque slab of a man with a gut that sagged over his belt and a cock that dangled like a slab of raw meat. His camp was a festering pit of chained captives, their naked bodies bruised and bleeding, their whimpers a twisted symphony. The merchant’s eyes glinted with perverse glee as he stroked his thick, veined erection, pre-cum glistening at the tip.
“Well, well,” he rasped, his voice like gravel grinding against stone. “A fresh little bitch to play with.”
Jesus stepped closer, his own cock twitching. “I’m not here to play,” he snarled, his tone dripping with menace. “I’m here to fucking destroy you.”
The merchant’s laugh was cut short as Jesus lunged, slamming him against a splintered wooden post. With a savage grin, Jesus grabbed a rusted spike and drove it through the merchant’s meaty hand, pinning him in place. The man’s scream was a guttural howl, but his cock only swelled, leaking more as pain fueled his twisted arousal.
“You disgusting pig,” Jesus hissed, tearing the merchant’s robes away to expose his hairy, sweat-drenched flesh. He snatched a whip from the dirt—its leather cracked and bloodstained—and cracked it across the merchant’s chest. The lash split skin, blood welling up in crimson streaks, and the merchant’s moans grew louder, a sick blend of agony and ecstasy.
“Harder… fuck, harder!” the merchant begged, his body trembling.
Jesus obliged, raining blows down until the man’s torso was a shredded mess, his cock pulsing with every strike. Dropping the whip, Jesus freed his own erection, spitting into his hand and slicking himself with a rough stroke. He grabbed the merchant’s throat, squeezing until the man’s eyes bulged.
“You’re going to take it all,” Jesus growled, positioning himself behind the pinned brute. With a single, brutal thrust, he buried his cock deep in the merchant’s ass, tearing through him without mercy. The man’s scream echoed through the camp, his body jerking against the post as Jesus pounded into him, each thrust a violent claim.
“Fuck… yes…” the merchant gasped, his voice breaking.
Jesus tightened his grip on the man’s throat, cutting off his air. “Shut up and take it, you worthless slut.” He reached around, seizing the merchant’s leaking cock and twisting it hard, drawing a whimper of pain. “You don’t cum ‘til I say, bitch.”
The merchant’s body shook, his cock dripping helplessly as Jesus raped him with unrelenting force, the slap of flesh against flesh drowning out the captives’ cries. The sadistic thrill coursed through Jesus, his own pleasure heightened by the merchant’s humiliation and torment.
Leaving the merchant a whimpering, bloodied heap, Jesus turned to the next shadow—a Roman soldier, a towering beast with muscles rippling under scarred skin and a cock that swung like a battering ram. His smirk was cruel, his hand stroking his massive erection as he stepped forward.
“Think you’re tough, boy?” the soldier taunted. “I’ve fucked men into the dirt who’d eat you alive.”
Jesus met his gaze, unflinching. “I don’t break,” he said, his voice cold. “But you will.”
The soldier charged, grabbing Jesus by the hair and forcing him to his knees. “Suck it, whore,” he snarled, shoving his cock past Jesus’ lips. The taste was rancid—sweat, piss, and filth—but Jesus took it, his throat stretching as the soldier fucked his face with brutal thrusts.
“Choke on it, slut,” the soldier groaned, his hips slamming forward.
But Jesus bided his time. As the soldier’s rhythm faltered, he struck—fingers digging into the man’s balls and squeezing until the soldier yelped, his cock slipping free. Before the man could recover, Jesus grabbed a chain from the ground and looped it around the soldier’s thick neck, yanking it tight.
“Fucking bitch!” the soldier choked, clawing at the metal.
Jesus dragged him down, pinning him face-first in the dirt. “You’re the bitch now,” he sneered, his cock pressing against the soldier’s ass. With a savage thrust, he forced himself inside, tearing through the man’s resistance. The soldier’s muffled scream vibrated through the ground as Jesus raped him, each thrust harder, deeper, relentless.
“God… fuck…” the soldier sobbed, his body shuddering.
“God’s not here,” Jesus spat, his hips snapping forward. He grabbed the soldier’s cock—still hard despite the agony—and jerked it roughly, bruising the flesh. “Cum for me, you pathetic fuck. Show me how much you love this.”
The soldier’s body convulsed, his cock spurting into the dirt as he broke under Jesus’ assault. But Jesus didn’t stop, pounding into him until the man’s sobs turned to broken whimpers. Only then did he pull out, standing over the wrecked soldier, his own cock slick with blood and cum.
“Worthless,” Jesus said, delivering a sharp kick to the soldier’s ribs before turning away.
The final figure emerged from the darkness—a zealot priest, his lean body covered in tattoos and piercings, his eyes alight with a manic, lustful fire. Beside him prowled two massive wolves, their fur matted with grime, their cocks hard and dripping as they eyed Jesus with predatory hunger.
“You’ve proven your strength,” the zealot purred, his voice a seductive rasp. “Now prove your submission.”
Jesus’ gaze flicked to the wolves, his cock twitching with a mix of dread and arousal. “What the fuck are you playing at?”
“A ritual,” the zealot said, stepping closer. “Give yourself to the beasts—and to me.”
Before Jesus could respond, the zealot seized him, forcing him to his knees. The wolves closed in, their hot breath on his skin, their cocks brushing his thighs. “Open your mouth,” the zealot commanded, his own erection throbbing in front of Jesus’ face.
Jesus obeyed, taking the zealot’s cock deep as the man thrust into his throat with slow, deliberate strokes. At the same time, one wolf mounted him, its massive cock pressing against his ass. Jesus groaned around the zealot’s shaft, his body tensing as the beast forced its way inside, stretching him to a burning, masochistic limit.
“Fuck… take it,” the zealot moaned, his hips bucking.
The wolf’s thrusts were savage, each one slamming into Jesus’ guts, while the zealot choked him with his cock, cutting off his air. Pain and pleasure twisted together, humiliation fueling his arousal as the second wolf circled, waiting its turn.
But Jesus wasn’t just a victim. He reached back, grabbing the wolf’s fur and pulling it deeper, forcing it to fuck him harder. The pain was blinding, but he craved it, his own cock throbbing as he sucked the zealot with desperate hunger.
“You love this,” the zealot gasped, his control slipping. “You masochistic fuck.”
Jesus pulled back just enough to growl, “Cum, you bastard.” He drove the zealot over the edge, the man’s cock pulsing as he shot his load down Jesus’ throat. Simultaneously, the wolf howled, flooding Jesus’ ass with hot, sticky cum.
Unspent, Jesus shoved the zealot aside and grabbed the second wolf, forcing it onto its back. “My turn,” he snarled, impaling himself on the beast’s massive cock. He rode it hard, the pain ripping through him as he reveled in the sadistic power and masochistic torment. His hand flew to his own cock, stroking furiously as he fucked himself on the wolf, cum splattering across its fur as he roared his release.
Jesus collapsed in the dirt, his body a wreck of bruises, blood, and cum. The wilderness was silent, the merchant, soldier, and zealot broken and humiliated, the wolves panting beside him. He rose, legs trembling, cock still half-hard, and surveyed the carnage.
“You’re all mine,” he said, his voice a low, dangerous promise. “And I’ll be back to fuck you all again.”
With that, he strode into the darkness, the sadistic and masochistic fire in his soul burning brighter than ever. The world wasn’t ready for this Jesus—but it would learn to fear and crave him in equal measure.