The air hung thick with the musk of Nazareth, a sweltering haze clinging to the mudbrick walls as Jesus turned twenty. His body, lean and hardened from years of carpentry, rippled with a primal energy that had begun to stir something dark within him. His eyes, once soft with divine promise, now glinted with a feral hunger, a lust that twisted scripture into something profane. Today wasn’t just any day… it echoed a forgotten moment from his past, when, at twenty, he’d wandered the desert alone, wrestling not with Satan but with his own swelling cock, jerking off to visions of forbidden flesh under a merciless sun. The Bible never recorded it, but the sand still remembered his cum-soaked grunts.
Mary, his mother, knelt in their cramped home, her hands kneading dough, her curves still taut despite the years. She wore a simple robe, the fabric clinging to her sweat-slicked skin, outlining her ass in a way that made Jesus’s dick twitch. He’d watched her for weeks, his holy mind rotting into a cesspit of taboo desire. She was the Virgin, sure, but that title felt like a taunt now—a challenge to defile her beyond redemption.
“Mother,” he rasped, voice low and thick, stepping closer. She turned, her eyes widening at the bulge straining his tunic. Before she could speak, Jesus grabbed her hair, yanking her head back. “You’ve served God long enough. Now you serve me.” His free hand hiked up his robe, unleashing his throbbing cock, veins pulsing like a living sin. He aimed it at her face and let loose a hot, golden stream of piss, soaking her cheeks, her lips, her hair. Mary gasped, but her tongue darted out, tasting him, a moan slipping free as the acrid flood drenched her. “Yes, my son,” she whispered, eyes glassy with perverse awe. “Cleanse me.”
Jesus grinned, a savage edge to his divinity, and shoved her onto all fours. Her robe rode up, exposing her plump ass, and he didn’t hesitate. Spitting on his hand, he slicked his cock and rammed it into her tight hole, no warning, no gentleness—just pure, brutal sodomy. Mary cried out, a mix of pain and ecstasy, her body rocking as he stretched her beyond human limits. “You like this, don’t you, you holy slut?” he growled, pounding deeper, his balls slapping her thighs. She nodded, panting, “Yes, Jesus, fuck me harder,” her voice a hymn of surrender. His hips pistoned, relentless, her ass clenching around him as she shuddered with twisted pleasure.
The door creaked open, and Joseph staggered in, his weathered face freezing at the sight. “What in God’s name—” he started, but Jesus cut him off, yanking his cock from Mary’s ass with a wet pop. “Join us, old man,” he commanded, divine authority laced with menace. “She’s ours now.” Mary crawled to Joseph, tugging his tunic down, his cock springing free, half-hard already. She sucked it greedily, moaning around it as Jesus watched, stroking himself. Joseph’s protests died as her lips worked him stiff, his hands gripping her head in reluctant lust.
Jesus pushed Mary back onto the dirt floor, spreading her legs. “Time to fill you proper,” he said, climbing over her. He shoved his cock back into her ass, deeper this time, making her scream in delight. Joseph, caught in the depravity, knelt between her thighs, his dick sliding into her dripping cunt. Together, they double-penetrated her, no mercy, no pause—just a relentless, savage rhythm. Mary writhed between them, her body a vessel of sin, her cries echoing through the house. “More, my boys, more!” she begged, her hips bucking to meet their thrusts. Jesus’s cock slammed into her ass, stretching it wide, while Joseph’s pounded her pussy, their grunts blending into a chorus of taboo ecstasy.
Hours passed, the trio locked in their unholy trinity. Jesus pissed on her again, mid-fuck, the stream splashing her tits, her face, as she lapped it up, giggling like a possessed whore. Joseph groaned, his old bones creaking, but he kept going, driven by a lust he’d never known. Mary’s ass and cunt took them endlessly, her body slick with sweat and urine, her mind lost to the pleasure of being used. Jesus gripped her throat, choking her just enough to make her eyes roll back, her orgasm ripping through her as he snarled, “You’re my bitch now, Mother.” She came hard, shuddering, her voice a broken prayer of “Yes, my savior.”
They didn’t stop. Jesus flipped her onto her stomach, mounting her ass again, his thrusts so fierce the floor shook. Joseph slid beneath, fucking her cunt upward, their cocks rubbing through her thin walls, a friction that drove them all mad. Mary’s moans turned to animalistic howls, her body trembling as orgasm after orgasm tore through her. “I’ve waited for this,” she panted, “my son, my husband, take me.” Jesus laughed, a dark, triumphant sound, and unleashed another torrent of piss across her back, marking her as his forever.
Night fell, and still they went, a relentless cycle of sodomy and penetration. Jesus and Joseph switched, Joseph’s cock now stretching Mary’s ass while Jesus ravaged her cunt, their pace unyielding. She loved it, her body a willing altar to their lust, her cries a testament to her fall. “Harder,” she pleaded, and they obeyed, fucking her until time itself blurred. Jesus came first, flooding her pussy with thick, hot cum, then pulled out to shove it back into her ass, cumming again as she screamed in rapture. Joseph followed, groaning as he spilled into her ass, the two loads mixing inside her, a profane communion.
Finally, they collapsed, Mary sprawled between them, panting, soaked in piss and cum, her smile radiant with twisted joy. Jesus stood, towering over her, his cock still hard, dripping. “You’re mine now,” they said, voice a decree of ownership. Joseph nodded, spent but complicit, as Mary whispered, “Always, my son, my king.” The house stank of their sin, a new gospel written in flesh and fluid, Jesus at twenty, no longer the meek lamb but a god of brutal, taboo desire, cleansing his family in the most fucked up way imaginable.