The Whorehouse That Jack Built by Sweeney Kevin

Author:Sweeney, Kevin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: MorbidbookS. Read Like The Devil.
Published: 2015-08-18T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER V

"For I am jealous over you with godly jealousy: for I have espoused you to one husband that I may present you as a chaste virgin to Christ. But I fear, lest by any means, as the serpent beguiled Eve through his subtlety, so your minds should be corrupted..."

Corinthians 11:2-3

(In the Garden how many were there that went on two legs there were three that went on two legs Adam and Eve and the Other.

(Who is the Son of God He is His own Son.

(What was its name that was the Other the Other in the garden was called the Serpent.

(Who was the mother of God the Virgin Mary was the mother of God.

(It is written that Adam knew Eve but once, yet how many children did she bear Eve knew Adam once, but she bore two children.

(And who was the wife of the Son of God the Whore Mary was His wife.

(For whom did she bear the first child for the third in the garden.

(And why was Mary Magdalene both his mother and his wife so as to keep the line Pure of the taint of the Other.)

The Motherfucker Superior like every member of the Order of the Immaculate was a hermaphrodite. Her cock and her clitoris were the same size as one another both half a foot when flaccid and both drooped; she twisted them one about the other and had them both pierced at the end when not employed.

The symbolism was not lost on the albino. A caduceus, two snakes twined one around the other; Jacob’s twisted ladder of life itself.

“The heathen Hindu’s believe that it takes thirty drops of blood to create a single drop of bone marrow,” said the Motherfucker Superior

All the other Sisters of the order ringed him where he knelt in the baptismal font. If he raised his eyes in any direction he would see ancient scrotums, heavy testicles swinging before the entrances of grizzled cunts from which grotesquely bloated clitorises bloomed.

Each of the nuns began to stroke the wrinkled stalagmites of their cocks with one liver spotted hand, massaging their tumorous clits with the other. Gnarled erectile tissue and broken veins began to plump, rheumy eyes closing in bliss as each Sister began to fantasize.

“The heathen Hindu’s believe that it takes thirty drops of bone marrow to make a single drop of semen,” said the Motherfucker Superior, gasping as she too worked her ancient shepherd’s rod.

The lesson seemed to have ended there, with what heathen’s believed. The albino kept his peace; even heathen’s could guess at the truth, and sometimes win insights.

Around him, the thirty Sisters of the Order of the Immaculate masturbated to the same fantasy. They whispered the prayer, the mantra of that fantasy, and thirty whispers were loud in that sacred place, fingers fluttering rapidly about their obscene-bloated clitorises as free palms slid back and forth along the lengths of stone-fossil erections.

The fantasy was of committing the Sacred Sin.

“Hail Mary full of grace...”

The Order was an unbroken line

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