Timothy Clifford was currently plunging in and out of and shooting his limitless cum into a beautiful angel girl on one of the many fields in heaven. He'd never been particularly religious, so he was a little surprised to have been allowed entry into heaven. And even if he had believed, he'd never have expected eternal bliss to be so, well, blissful. But ever since he'd died, his every moment had been non-stop bliss, on a level he'd never thought possible.
"Excuse me sir," said a voice from his side. He turned his head, and saw the archangel Dorothea stood there.
"Oh good, I can fuck you next," he said to her. "Get naked, and lay down next to this slut."
"No sir, not right now."
"Hey! Don't question me! You have to do what I say, don't you!?"
Dorothea snapped her fingers, and his orgasm ended. He felt an invisible force pull him out of the angel, and onto his feet.
"Luna, I believe you have other souls to attend to, do you not?" Dorothea asked the minor angel.
"Yes Lady Dorothea, I'll go at once, Lady Dorothea," the young angel said, keeping her head bowed to her superior as she quickly left.
"What's the meaning of this!?" Timothy shouted. "You're supposed to obey my every command, aren't you?! So lay down, and let me fuck you!"
"I answer to only one, and he currently demands your presence," Dorothea told him.
Timothy let out an audible gulp. He'd never actually met God. He can't dislike him too much if he'd allowed him to enter heaven, but at the same time, he figured it probably wasn't wise to ignore a summons from him.
"If you do not come willingly, I have permission to use force," Dorothea said bluntly, and then let out an evil grin. "And I promise, you won't find that pleasant."
"No, I'll come with you," Timothy agreed. "It's probably not a good idea to make God angry."
"A wise choice sir," Dorothea said. "Though it does deny me the pleasure of punishing you for your disobedience. Follow me."
Dorothea led Timothy to God's magnificent palace, where he knew mortals were strictly forbidden from entering. The guards took one look at Dorothea however, and backed away in fear.
"It is good to see you, Lady Dorothea," one of them said, as they both bowed to her. "I hope you're well." Timothy looked at them, and thought about his angelic guide. When he'd arrived in heaven, he'd been told that Dorothea was in charge of heavenly hospitality, that it was her job to ensure that his and everyone else's eternal reward was as blissful as possible. But he'd seen plenty of times when lesser angels had cowered before her, and in fact, they always seemed scared in her presence. He wondered what it was she did that made them so terrified of her.
Timothy attempted to follow her, but was blocked by the guards' flaming swords.
"Halt! No mortals may set foot upon this holy ground!" The second guard shouted.
"Let him in, God has requested his presence," Dorothea ordered them, and guards instantly lowered their swords.
"Of course Lady Dorothea!" The first guard grovelled.
"We're sorry Lady Dorothea! Please don't-" The second guard begged.
"Be quiet," Dorothea interrupted them in her quiet yet terrifying voice. "Your voices annoy me. Come on mortal."
I caught up to Dorothea, before looking back at the cowering guards.
"Can I ask, why are they so scared of you?" I asked her. "Uh...Lady Dorothea, ma'am."
"Because I don't tolerate incompetence," she replied. "I can't put up with people not doing their jobs correctly. My punishments are harsh, but as you've seen, they work. Running heaven is an incredibly difficult task. Just ask Amia."
Timothy had heard of the archangel Amia, the one who was by God's side, guiding his divine hand in the running of the universe. He'd never actually seen her for himself, but he'd heard stories, about how she was the most beautiful being in the universe. He'd seen the road leading to her private palace, where she lived with her husband, the archangel Achré, the ruler of hell. Timothy hadn't been allowed anywhere near it though, as it was private, which he supposed was to be understood, as he wouldn't have wanted randomers poking around his home.
The two of them walked the halls of this extravagant palace, and Timothy thought about God. Who was this all-powerful being, who was kind enough to allow him an eternity of bliss, simply by living what he judged to be a "good life"? When he'd first died and gone to heaven, he'd asked one of his guides why he'd gone to heaven, and he'd simply been told that God worked in mysterious ways, and that he shouldn't question his judgement.
"Lady Dorothea, what's God like?" Timothy asked his angelic guide.
"All-powerful. He is very generous, provided he likes you," she replied, and they stopped outside a large door. "On the other side of this door is God's private bedroom, a place that even I am forbidden from entering without permission. When you go in, get on your knees right away, and don't stand up or speak without permission."
Dorothea knocked on the door, and waited. It opened slightly, and a beautiful, naked angel walked out, closing the door behind her.
"Amia, is God ready for him?" Dorothea asked the other girl. So this was Amia. She was even more beautiful than Timothy had though possible, but then, everything in heaven seemed to be better than he thought possible.
"He is," Amia replied, and then turned to Timothy. "Come with me please sir."
"Amia, what's this all about?" Dorothea asked the other archangel.
"He won't let me say, but you'll find out soon enough," Amia told her.
Amia led him into the room, and he got a brief glimpse of the bed and some skin, before he quickly got onto his knees, and bowed his head.
"Honestly, there's no need for that," he heard a young, male voice say. "Come up here and sit with me." Timothy stood up, and sat on the bed. He then turned to look at the almighty, and he was shocked by what he saw.
"You're...a teenager?" He asked, forgetting Dorothea's instruction not to speak.
"Only physically," God replied. "I'm actually a lot older than that. And Amia's even older than I am. She's existed since the beginning of time."
"How can she be older than you, if you created everything and everyone?" Timothy asked.
"Who says I created her?" God asked, smiling.
Amia then sat down on the bed with them, holding a large file.
"Timothy Anthony Clifford," she said, reading from the file. "Born 4th June 1970. Married Rachel Genevive Wilson on 6th August 1994. Became father to twin girls Lily and Daisy on the 15th May 1996. Died in a car crash on February 28th 1998."
"Uh, yeah, that's me," Timothy said.
"I like you," God said to Timothy. "Isn't it true you've spent most of your time in heaven having sex?"
"Well yeah," Timothy replied. "I got told I could do whatever I wanted."
"Indeed, but how would you like even more freedom?" God asked.
This confused me. What could he mean?
"Well sir, it's like this," Amia said in her beautiful voice. "The God you see before you is not the original God. Reality was created by the original God, who eventually retired, and passed his powers onto a successor. Since then, Gods have passed there powers on every now and then to successors, before ascending to the Gods' heaven reserved exclusively for past Gods."
"I've chosen you as my successor," God told him.
"You want me...to be God?" Timothy asked, both shocked and confused.
"Yes I do," God replied. He then started glowing, and vanished.
"You are now God, Lord," Amia said to him.
"I'm God? So what now?" He asked.
"Now, you are capable of absolutely anything you wish. The universe is yours to command and control."  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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