Husbandry

The morning in Draftsfurrow was pleasantly cool. Church bells sounded over the quiet town nestled in the hills. The houses in the lane were crowded together, and the scene could have been dreary, but the rich wood of the doors and shutters and the small gardens complemented the blue-gray bricks quite nicely.

One of those doors swung slowly open. As it opened, gentle music leaked out from a record player in the back. Sandy Saddles, a colt with sandy fur and a long streaming mane and tail, stepped across the threshold, but stopped. He flicked the brown and white curls of his tail back into the house in a furtive gesture, and looked back wistfully.

A tall gray form pushed the door open a bit further and slid up alongside him. Clyde Cuddler was the kind of heavy draft-horse whose appearance would lend him the term stallion, altogether an attractive masculine sample.

“Don’t worry, I won’t let you walk out of here without a proper good morning,” Clyde said. He reached a hoof and pulled Sandy closer. Sandy’s soft face blushed as they kissed deeply. They frenched passionately for a moment before their tongues withdrew. They took breaths through their nostrils, their lips still pressed together.

A mare gave a muffled gasp. She turned so that her blue and purple mane hid her face politely. Her elegant dress was form-fitting. Sandy sheepishly gave up the kiss, but Clyde held him there a moment more. The smaller colt gave a nervous smile.

“Are you sure you want to go?” Clyde asked.

Sandy nodded. Clyde made sure that his nose brushed across his partner’s face, and then his back, as Sandy trotted out onto the cobblestone.

“Sorry, I didn’t see you there,” Sandy apologized to Mercy, the mare, who gave a furtive nod much like Sandy’s from the moment before.

When her gaze turned to him again, she forced a kindly manner. “Good morrow. Come on then, we’re late.”
As they left, Clyde’s eyes went to the plots of the two retreating forms. He considered Mercy, thinking to himself, “If I was the other kind of stallion…”

The two trotted to the center of town to the old church, where the bells had stopped ringing and the ponies had started singing. Just before passing under the archway of rough-hewn stones, Sandy signaled Mercy to pause. “Thank you,” he said. “I know you don’t approve of the way we are, but thank you for still being our friend.”

“You know,” she conceded, “I’ve messed up, but God loves me anyway. So I love you. It’s as simple as that.”
The two walked softly into the sanctuary, grateful for the carpet in the center of the aisle which prevented the characteristic clop of hooves on stone. The pews had filled up, except for a space in the far back and another in the front.

Mercy hesitated at the choice, and then gave a questioning gesture with her hoof toward the back. Sandy shook his head and whispered, “I didn’t come here to be left out. I want, Mercy, I seek.”

She was surprised. He was getting bolder. As the first song closed they filed into their seats. Mercy pretended that any staring eyes were brought about by their tardiness. Sandy held no such delusions, and looked down. But then he looked up, expectant.

A member of the congregation whose cutie mark favored the act led them into the next song. Sandy ignored the dull monotone the group prided itself in, and instead appreciated the lyrics. It had some strange words, but repeated familiar ones such as love, thanks, hope. The songs were about cleansing and forgiveness, or rescue in trouble, and things of that nature.

By the look on their faces, those around him did not hear their own words. The exception, of course, was Mercy, who always smiled blissfully, or shut her eyes tightly as if she was experiencing something profound. Sandy attempted to reach some sort of state like hers.

Before he could somehow ascend to her enlightenment, the worship was concluded. The song leader was replaced by a stately unicorn, the husband of the congregation. “Why husband?” Sandy had asked hopefully some time ago. Apparently the local husband took care of the church spiritually, mimicking Christ’s larger role. Disappointingly, however, it seemed that nothing interesting was meant by it. Elsewhere, they were referred to as shepherds, but there was a church full of sheep the next valley over. The residents of Draftsfurrow were emphatic that the leading ram there was the shepherd, and the leading stallion here was, for lack of a more accurate term, the husband. Why they should pick a title so tantalizing, when they could simply say “leader”, was beyond Sandy’s comprehension.

The mistitled public speaker began his oration, and Sandy listened intently. The perfect law mandated by Celestia had been given to her by God. The six Elements of Harmony symbolized its entirety, but there were many facets to it. The central tenet, the pinnacle of all six, was love. Love thy God. Love thy neighbor. There were things the law encouraged, that would benefit others. There were things the law punished. For the most part, Sandy realized, these were crimes against love. Violence, theft, and adultery directly damaged love. Greed, abandonment, and drunkenness were other evils that Sandy could deduce the harm from quite easily.

Colts and mares ought to marry and stay together, so that their children would have both parents. However, to Sandy’s continued pain, there was a certain directive stating that colts may only marry mares, and vice versa. Even to do once what Sandy had done—and enjoyed—last night was some terrible act like adultery. Unfaithfulness is clearly a crime against the love between the spouses. Apparently, the love between Clyde and Sandy did not count. It was also evil.

“I will never understand this God,” Sandy thought to himself. “He creates this wonderful world, and all these beautiful ponies. He gives us benevolent rulers like Celestia. He establishes a law of love, but then calls some love bad.”

He shut his eyes, privately admitting, “And He does love me. I can feel it from Mercy. I want to love you,” he shifted unconsciously to prayer, “I do love you. Why can’t I make you happy? You know I’ve tried, and you know I love other ponies, but I just can’t fit your law.”

The law of state concerned physical acts. However, true Harmony, the “husband” reported, was even more difficult; it is a matter of the heart. How can one avoid violent thoughts, jealous thoughts, or adulterous thoughts? How can one avoid dishonest thoughts, when ponies can be deceived by their own hearts?

Sandy listened wistfully to the description of his God’s intentions. God apparently wanted to bring all ponies back to life after they died and bring them to a place called heaven. It was a wonderful place of blissful Harmony and love. He had created ponies just so that He could take them home and love them. That’s why Sandy wanted this God. That’s why Sandy wanted this God to want him.

Unfortunately—perhaps predictably—there was an awful catch 22. The place of heaven and the being of God were of such perfect Harmony, that no discord at all could be allowed in either. There was only room for love. And this was the same fearsome love that had destroyed villainous forces that wanted to take Equestria. He was just, and all who had committed crimes against love were under His judgment. Even to be exposed to Him could annihilate the impure. But by the earlier definition, all ponies were impure!

There was a time long ago, however, when He came down and dwelt on the earth as a pony. It was He who made His intentions clear, and warned them of their plight. However, very publicly, to the shock of all, He had come to be put to death. He died as the ultimate criminal against love, though He loved everyone. Somehow, by His death they could be purified. And somehow, He was still alive.

What wonderful news! Earlier (Sandy had heard this before), he had thrilled to this news. Apparently, all one needed to do to be saved is to realize that one needs to be saved, admit that one cannot make themselves perfect, and to call upon this “Jesus” and trust in His sacrifice. Sandy had already done all that. Now, however, another matter weighed heavily upon his heart.

“Why am I still gay?” he asked plaintively.

Mercy’s jaw dropped. The husband—gah—the leader froze, and stammered, “What?”

“I want God to love me now,” Sandy pleaded, stepping out from the pews. “If I can be purified, why am I still gay? Why is my love bad? What can I do in heaven, if my kind of love is bad?”

“I’m sure that when you get to heaven, He’ll fix you,” the leader promised. Some in the congregation gave him sharp glares. If he was too lenient, it would appear that he did not uphold the law of Harmony. “If you get to heaven,” he falsely corrected.

“I love Harmony!” Sandy defended, feeling hurt. “I want to obey it. I just can’t hurt Clyde that way. I can’t love mares, I’ve tried, and I don’t think I can take being alone.” He finished with a whimper.

Nopony had anything to say. They stared, some in shock, some in scorn. Mothers had put hooves around their fillies’ ears.

Mercy came alongside Sandy and took him by the shoulder. She escorted him out a door in the transept near the front, which led to a hall and some bathrooms.

“I’m so sorry,” she comforted, but in truth she was appalled at her helplessness.

Sandy had already started to cry, and excused himself into the colt’s room. He moved past the toilets to the back wall and rested his head against it. He groaned his tears. There were no answers, no place for a pony like him.

He scarcely noticed another pony enter behind him. He felt a strong hoof come to rest on his plot. Could Clyde have come to somehow rescue him? Sandy knew his partner couldn’t fix him, but the big stallion did have a way of making him feel better.

The hoof shoved him into the wall, twisting him against the stone. He cried out and partway turned around before another impact pinned him.

Anvil Pound, the local blacksmith, pressed in on Sandy so that he had difficulty breathing, and the larger colt put his nose right to the side of the other’s face. “You’re sick! Don’t you ever talk in front of my son like that,” Anvil berated. “You know there’s no place in heaven for fags. Get lost.” He let his prey loose and stormed back out to the hall. Mercy questioned him and began shouting.

Sandy slumped down when he was released. Regaining his breath, he pushed himself up the side of another door. After a moment, he realized that this was strange. There was only one door to the lavatory. He brushed his brown bangs out of the way to confirm his sight of the first door. He turned the knob by his face, and it opened. Unsure why he should remain, he exited the side of the church.

He was not in the street next to the church in Draftsfurrow. Around him, there was a well-tended garden of fruit trees. He looked behind at the church. In its place rose an immense structure of granite, or whatever stone would crush granite. It stretched as far to the left and right as he could see. Somewhere, high up, there was movement among something like battlements. He had come out the back of a tower by a massive gate—the inside of a sealed gate—with a toothed portcullis of metal with an odd blue glint.

Sandy began to feel that he had once again come into a place where he did not belong. There was a path through the budding trees, and it seemed to invite his passage. He certainly didn’t feel like returning to Draftsfurrow just at the moment. There he would have to face reality, as his love and his spirituality would each tell him to abandon the other. Mercy would commiserate, but that was all she could do. Besides, to go back through the church to escape to Clyde’s house, he would have to pass Anvil again.

He took the garden path. It was very pleasant, and afforded him shelter from the battlements’ view. Shortly, however, he was drawn back into the open to witness an extraordinary sight. Around the top of a low hill, the clouds parted, revealing a thin sky that fell away into another realm. There was a strange jagged darkness, rimmed with light. Rivers and rainbows flowed off the side of the object and fell to earth all around, but the span of the thing was such that none of these fell close to Sandy.

As he gazed up, there was a gentle flutter of wings and landing in the grass behind him. From the sound, it was a small bird. Sandy did not turn at first, but began to feel threatened somehow, remembering Anvil’s attack. He tossed his mane to put one eye over his shoulder. He gave a gasp.

A tall white form loomed with something like the stature of a draconequus. The alien being had six wings, and as it stood on its lower set of paws, its foxlike tail swished behind it. Its elk head craned down toward him, and it adjusted the silver spear it held in its arms. For all its flurry of limbs, the creature was remarkably graceful.

The guardian considered the butt of its spear, from which protruded a very short, needle like point which seemed out of place on the otherwise massive weapon. This it deftly poked into Sandy’s skin, much to his alarm, but only drew a single drop of blood on the needle’s tip. The being wiped this blood on a small scroll and examined the parchment intensely.

“Sandy Saddles,” the thing said.

The frightened colt nodded. A new thought entered Sandy’s mind. Anvil slammed his head against the bathroom wall and choked him out, and then he had come into a strange land. “Sir, am I dead?”

It pondered the question, consulted the scroll, and replied simply, “No.” It put the scroll away and leapt lightly to the top of the hill. It raised its spear, which somehow separated lengthwise, and drove both shafts into the soil. There was a pause. With a startling metallic thud, two jets of metal from above impacted the ground and fused with the spears. Water poured down between the rails and slapped onto the grass, but did not fall outside of its boundaries. Instead, it seemed to form a solid surface, as if trapped between plates of glass.

The mighty being beckoned with a paw. Sandy was leery of the sudden movements of the glasslike channel, but did not dare refuse. A paw gently took his hoof and pulled him to the water’s shimmering surface, so that his face almost pressed against it. The elk thing tilted its head and gave an inquisitive look. It pulled him upright, with his front hooves on the smooth surface. Then they somehow walked forward.

Sandy stiffened slightly and his eyes shifted around nervously. The two of them were walking up the causeway vertically into the air. It was clearly expected that he walk the whole length, which led up to the edge of that shadowy object. He wished to oblige, but as they rose dangerously high above the hilltop, he began to shake strongly.

The thing observed this. After a thoughtful pause, it understood, “You are afraid… of gravity?”

The path was too narrow, too clear, and too isolated. It ran straight through a dreadful expanse of nothing. “Y-yes, very much,” he replied.

They stared at each other. “You cannot fall,” it informed.

“But what if I do?” Sandy whimpered.

The winged being sighed. It was actually a very pretty sigh. “If you fall, I will catch you.”

Sandy was somewhat reassured, and allowed it to lead him onwards. Once he had gone farther, his fear became unfocused, because he couldn’t decide which direction he was afraid of falling, as “down” had become relative.

After some minutes of the unnerving journey, a small green wisp fell like a raindrop into the guardian’s waiting paw. It examined the signal, and lit its antlers with magic, producing an immediate response from the causeway. The water rushed upwards, sweeping them quickly through the void. This was even more startling, but Sandy had only to freeze in fear and he would arrive quickly at the destination.

As they approached the object, it became clear that it was something like the underside of a massive continent, an entire world even. The farther edges spread out to form a horizon as the two neared the lip of this new world. The rim had appeared to glow because there was some unfathomable light source nestled against the far side.

However, before they achieved a view of the hidden land, they arrived at a small island that interrupted the course of the silver channel. It was made of pale sandstone and similar silt. The central object was an odd formation of timbers. Blood dripped from the large iron nails that bit into the wood. Sandy was again alarmed to recognize it as an ancient execution platform. The doomed equine form would be stretched across it, fixed into position, and either bleed out or suffocate.

The white one brought him towards the grisly sight and into a bowl-like pit a few meters away from it. “What’s going on?” Sandy asked nervously, as blood gurgled out of the nail holes. The cross-timbers turned into a gruesome fountain, and the red-purple liquid began to pour over the rim of the pit. The guardian stood stoically. Sandy attempted to do the same.

Blood pooled around his hooves, and then began to rush around him. “What’s going on?!” Sandy repeated, and then finally, “Help!” as he was about to be swallowed up in a flood.

“Drink!” the guardian commanded, and pushed him under. He tried to hold his breath, but his panic undid this effort. He was forced to inhale, and the blood rushed into his lungs.

He thrashed a bit more, but then stilled. He did not weaken, but rather calmed, breathing in and out, and drinking at the same time. In the same sense that losing blood drains energy and brings death, he was given new vigor.

The lithe guardian lifted him back out of the pit and had placed him again on the conveyor before he had time to comprehend what had occurred. As they rushed into the light, the white one instructed, “Close your eyes.” Even through his eyelids, the brilliance of it stung, and Sandy was compelled to put a hoof over his face. The hoof was removed and blinders mercifully applied.

They traveled across something like clover as other beings bustled about. Sandy began to wonder if his escort, like Mercy, had brought him to a place in which he did not belong. There were no hostile indications from whoever was around him—not that he could be sure. He was sure that he heard songs and laughter.

Polished stone passed beneath his hooves. Doors closed behind him. The guardian removed Sandy’s eye protection, and they traveled through something that most closely resembled the marble palace in Canterlot, though it was several times as magnificent. Recovering from blindness, his vision was now overwhelmed with color and beauty. Here precious stones were not enshrined for their value, but spread lavishly across surfaces just for the liveliness of their hue.

Soon they entered a smaller room, which was a hybrid of a family dining room and an indoor garden. The floor was carpeted with grass, the table was surrounded with cushions of moss, and more fruit trees curved out from the wall to give a pleasant canopy. The room had three walls; to the right space continued as a wide staircase that terminated in a veil.

Sandy observed none of these things, for seated at the table was a golden alicorn, slightly larger than Celestia. His mane and tail were white like wool, and danced like flames around him. His every surface emitted a gentle glow, as did his crystal crown. As far as the rest of his royal attire, he was “sky clad”. Nudity was quite normal in Equestria, but Sandy was affected by the tone and grace of the massive stallion’s body. Hiding his feelings and the terror they produced, he forced eye contact with those piercing blue eyes. The light in those eyes was even more daunting than the light outside; it was not painful, but it was somehow invasive.

The guardian covered its face with its upper pair of wings as it bowed low by the alicorn’s side. The ruler placed a hoof on its head, saying, “Thank you.” The guardian let out a long, trailing groan of pleasure that had an extraordinary musical quality. It rose and departed the way it had come, leaving Sandy alone with… him.

“Come Sandy,” the majestic stallion invited. Sandy was speechless, still entranced by those eyes, but came and took a seat. Just to escape the gaze, he surveyed the contents of the table. He had expected vegetables, but found only an unfamiliar brown substance that had apparently been cooked.

He could just feel those eyes on his skin. “Are you…” Sandy tried to speak, but faltered.

“Yes, Sandy, I AM God,” the alicorn answered in a friendly tone. “You may call me Jesus, or Harmony, or husband if you please.” Sandy was frightened and began to shake once more. “Do not fear, you are cleansed. I love you even though you make mistakes. It’s as simple as that.”

Sandy regained some composure, and remembered his desires. He also recalled God’s interaction with the androgynous guardian. “May I…?”

“Yes, you may touch me again,” Jesus almost chuckled. “You already drank me.” Sandy timidly held up a hoof, which was soon met by a large gold hoof that closed around it and held it gingerly.

Sandy gave a sigh, punctuated by little gasps, as his fear melted away. It was slowly being replaced by a wholeness that complemented the vitality from his baptism. Jesus professed, “You know that I have loved you, and that you have come to love me. I brought you so that you can eat and drink and be sure of your place here.” He let Sandy’s hoof fall away from his towards the plate on the table.

Sandy noted that food was only set out for him, and not for his host. Again he eyed the strange fare. “Is this…meat?” he asked doubtfully.

The God nodded. “It’s flank steak.”

Sandy’s eyes widened. “You mean—from a cow?”

“Horse.”

Sandy began to fear greatly that he had misunderstood what kind of God reigned here. Why would a pony kill another for food? Would Sandy be the next meal?

“It’s from me,” Harmony clarified. “I died to give you life. That’s all this is. Dig in, it’s a good cut.”

“How can that be, since you’re here?” Sandy asked.

“This is my new body, but remember, I died so that you could take my life into you,” Jesus answered.

Sandy picked up the fork and knife in front of him and placed them on the steak. Then he put them back down and leaned away from it. “I don’t want to be part of hurting you. You’re too good, you’re too beautiful.”

“Eat. I already died for you. I love you too much not to give this to you.”

“But eating your flesh like a cannibal—it’s gross!” Sandy still objected.

“You don’t want me?” Harmony said, hurt finally showing on his face. At that moment, Sandy understood his master’s eyes. It was more painful for Jesus when others would not receive life than it was for him to die his own death. His heart flowed out of those irises in light that sought to enter the eyes of another. It found its mark. Sandy let it flow down his pupils into his heart.

“I’ll—okay, I’ll eat,” the earth pony finally surrendered.

“Thank you. I know it’s weird, but you don’t have to do it alone.” The great alicorn moved to the same side of the table as Sandy and put a foreleg around his shoulders. The calming reinforcement helped him muster himself to cut out a bite and taste the steak. It was tender, moist, well-seasoned, and surprisingly delicious even to an herbivore.

He ate more. Though the idea still unnerved him, it was very satisfying.

He wondered aloud, “How can there be enough of you for everypony?”

That deep voice explained succinctly, “I’m abundant. Now you have me inside you, so you belong here.”

Sandy found the idea of being entered by another, and one so handsome, incredibly stimulating. Rather than enjoy it, however, he was forced to consider his feelings with caution. His awareness of his position under the warmth of that great chest multiplied. He noticed another feeling between his legs. Jesus was watching him almost too intently as he chewed. Under such a gaze, he could not reveal the slightest bit of evil. Here, evil is annihilated.

Finally, he could not take the pressure any more. “You want to come inside me, because you’re the Husband?” Sandy probed. In the face of that peacefully penetrating gaze, and an apparent lack of reaction, he covered, “Because you take care of ponies? Like a good shepherd?”

“That’s right. I want what’s best for you,” the great one said reassuringly.

Sandy moaned inside. He wouldn’t have gotten any ideas if things had not been suggested, but he was once again deeply disappointed. Here was a wonderful being who by nature desired to help all in need. Here was another who would be kind to him, but nothing more—just like Mercy. This great unearthly love was so selfless and pure, altogether wonderful, but not precisely the love Sandy craved. Perhaps that was because Sandy’s love was impure—tainted. His ears and his heart sank slightly.

Sandy wiped his hooves and mouth with a napkin—which, of course, cleaned itself. He stared at the empty plate for a moment before looking plaintively up to the generous spirit. “You say I belong here?” Christ nodded with a slight smile. “Anvil says there’s no place in heaven for… ponies like me.”

“Who do you believe?” Harmony challenged. “Anvil or Me?”

“But what if I mess up?” Sandy worried. “What if I break your law?”

“With Clyde?” Jesus intuited. “You have done nothing to earn my love, and you can do nothing to escape it.”

“What if I married him?” the soft pony asked bluntly. “They say fags go to hell.”

“I will not change my law. You can marry him, bang him every night, and break all my other laws, but I will not abandon you,” the creator said firmly enough, but looked away, almost wistfully.

“You mean, I’m free?” Sandy asked with rising hope.

The alicorn rose to his hooves. His voice rose in volume and lowered in pitch, a form of the royal voice, as he proclaimed, “I swear by my own name that you will return here when you die.” He finished softly, “You may go—if that’s all you wanted.” Then he turned and left, trotting up the staircase with a reserved gait.

Sandy watched him depart with mixed feelings. He was such a beautiful stallion and beautiful heart. For a moment the flame-like tail flowed to the side. It was not Sandy’s intention, but because of the height of the Monarch, he obtained an excellent view of dark, velvety genitals. The huge balls glistened slightly with the being’s natural glow and moved with the bearer’s stride. The great phallus was still sheathed. He could only imagine it extended.

Sandy bowed away and closed his eyes tightly. Surely what he had just done was a crime worse than homosexuality or blasphemy. One so pure should not be ogled by tainted eyes.

Sandy slunk away from the dining room. He thought that he had been cleansed, but apparently not. He did not wish to displease God any more.

He picked up his head at the thought of returning to Clyde. His best friend and partner would greet him, bemoan his treatment at the church, and make him feel special again. He could bang Clyde every night (though usually it was Clyde doing the banging). That’s what God said. They could even get married. And since Sandy hadn’t done anything to earn his place in heaven, surely Clyde would also be welcome if he accepted Jesus’ offer of forgiveness.

What relief! He didn’t have to go to church and put up with any pony’s scorn. He didn’t have to worry what any church leader said, he was going to heaven. There was no “if”. He already hoped it was true, since he’d accepted Jesus, but his lifestyle still caused him doubt. Now there was no more fear. He’d been given a free ride. He could do anything he wanted with his life.

He did feel a pang of regret though. It seemed as though he had caused his savior grief with his words and deeds. He was taking advantage of God’s unconditional love and unconditional promise. Even knowing that he was intent on breaking the law, God gave him freedom from punishment. There was something wrong. It was horrible to think of causing pain to the one who loved him so selflessly. Such amazing love…

He realized that his heart had to love Jesus in return. He wanted to please Christ. He wanted to obey the law. He wanted to love purely.

The guardian waited for him. “Are you ready to leave?” it asked.

Sandy paused. He could hear his breath and his heart in the still chamber. He could hear himself think, and think strange things.

Suddenly, he looked up, wide-eyed. “I want. I seek!”

He whirled around and scrambled down the hall until he found the dining-garden. He turned the corner and started up the broad staircase leading to the veil. He slowed to a respectful trot as he climbed red carpet of the ascending passage. As he approached the ornate curtain, a hush fell over him, and he advanced the last steps on his hoof tips. He came alongside the patterned fabric, and put his face almost to the partition. He listened.

“Come in,” that same deep voice said warmly.

Sandy slipped through into an unfamiliar scene. The room was not as large as he expected. One end was lit by a pink glow, the other by a fireplace. The mighty alicorn lounged comfortably across a purple bed and looked into a round pool that was before him. His penetrating but friendly gaze turned to the newcomer.

“Is there really a place for me here?” Sandy asked.

“Of course,” Jesus answered. “Come here.” He patted his hoof on the mattress next to him.

Sandy had reservations, but not as strong as his need. He climbed into the bed, and after further signals, nestled in beside the other’s large form. God spread a wing over his little pony. The casual embrace was quite pleasant.

From his new vantage point, Sandy could see into the pool, which shimmered with light. It showed the image of Sandy, from another angle, as he looked perplexed into it. “Were you watching me?” he asked, surprised. “I thought you would be watching the rest of the universe.”

“I’m God,” the master replied with a sly smile. “How do you know I’m not watching the rest of the universe? But I like to watch you.”

Sandy processed that for a moment. In lieu of the almost-paralyzing eye contact, he stared at the pool and observed the way it rippled and shimmered.

“Tell me, what troubles you?” enquired the gentle giant.

“I don’t feel like I belong,” the earth pony expressed.

His master gave a low, concerned, “Hmm.”

Sandy explained, “The husband in Draftsfurrow said that you would fix me when I got to heaven. He was wrong. I thought you cleansed me, but I’m still tainted. My love is still bad somehow. I don’t want to be a problem, I want to make you happy, but I still feel like I did before.”

“I did cleanse you, with my own blood,” Jesus reminded.

“But why am I still wrong?” Sandy protested. “Am I not supposed to love? Did you make me to be alone?”

“No, no. You’re not wrong,” the great one comforted. “I made you the way I wanted you.”

“But you can’t! I know I’m dirty because… because…” Sandy’s voice trembled. “I’m feeling dirty things right now.” It was true. Held against the impressive muscles of the stallion-incarnation, and in such freely offered companionship, he had become aroused.

Jesus whispered in his ear, “Hushhh sh sh sh… You are completely safe with me. There is no danger in my presence. I’m in control of the situation, and I love you.” Sandy did not understand what was happening, but he could not argue. Right next to God, taking in his pure love, Sandy knew that nothing wrong could happen. He turned his face up to receive the blue light of heartfelt compassion, and to receive it fully without holding back.

He finally understood that everything that could go wrong would be right in the end. Here he was sheltered, and everywhere under that gaze he was sheltered by love. Even if a blacksmith shoved him into a wall, it would lead him to heaven’s pleasures. Nothing could turn out for his harm. He let go of the anxieties that he had still clutched, and released the need to perform or be anything else. He laughed and cried at the same time as peace invaded in a way that it had not before. When Sandy calmed, Christ wiped away his tears.

Then the noble alicorn kissed his cheek gently, producing a hot, ecstatic buzz on the spot. “You are clean,” Jesus whispered. He kissed the top of Sandy’s head. “You are holy.” Golden lips graced the earth pony’s neck. “I love you.” The shoulders. “I love every part of you.” The side of his chest. “You’re beautiful.” A strong foreleg lifted Sandy’s and the lips descended again. “There’s no part of you that’s dirty.” It tickled on the bottom of his hoof. “I have made all of you clean.”

The larger pony shifted position, and then lightly pressed his lips on Sandy’s back. “I love you.” Midback. “I love every part of you.” Tantalizingly smooching his rump just above the tail. “You’re beautiful.”

Jesus rolled him over slightly. Sandy’s eyes widened as he felt his tail be pulled aside, and heard, “There’s no part of you that’s dirty.” Jesus’ graceful lips touched down on those of Sandy’s anus. As if to emphasize, he stroked affectionately with his mouth, for a moment licking the opening. He brought his head around the awestruck pony’s leg, saying “I have made all of you clean.” He smiled, and kissed the base of Sandy’s penis fervently, flooding it with spiritual energy.

Sandy gasped and laughed, squeezing his eyes shut. When he opened them, he was almost nose to nose with God, and the deity’s long, fiery locks filled his vision. Jesus smiled and invited, “Now that all of you is clean, and everything is safe, what do you want?”

This was true freedom. Sandy said confidently, “I want you.” Jesus tensed, holding back an excited grin, waiting. “I want you to be my Husband.”

The Bridegroom moved his lips gently onto Sandy’s. For a while they were motionless, delighted by the simple contact. Then their mouths began to lap against each other, at first slowly, then almost feverishly. A long tongue entered Sandy’s mouth, cradled his own tongue, cheered his throat, and tickled the ridges of his mouth.

They allowed their lips to separate for the simple pleasure of putting them together again. In the space between, Jesus breathed, “I do.” He put a hoof on his mate’s shoulder, and slowly curved it around his neck, taking more command of the kiss as he pulled Sandy in.

It was a thoughtful kiss, and Sandy was allowed marvel at what was happening. What did it even mean to receive this kind of affection from God? And how could this happen to a pony that was always rejected? He and Clyde needed each other, but why would God treat him like this? Does he want me for my body, for pleasure?

Sandy felt the vitality of the drink that he took, and it was moving in his chest, and suggesting to his thoughts. Answers flooded to his mind. “Yes and no. I take great pleasure in you and your body, but I love your spirit more. I love everything about you. I want the best for you, so I give you all of myself.”

That kiss—Sandy didn’t want to let it go. It could last forever—and why not? But it made Sandy’s skin crave more contact. With a *smeck*, his lover released him.

Sandy begged, “Hold me,” and that foreleg was already around both shoulders. Then the right foreleg was wrapping around him as well, and holding him tightly to the alicorn’s chest. God embraced him and from beside and above. The fiery mane came round about his own as if it was alive, and mixed with it. Christ’s nose played in the interwoven earthly and fiery hairs a moment before again seeking Sandy’s cheeks.

Right in this place, with strong hooves around him, surrounded by love, Sandy knew where he belonged. Just the warmth of that body pressed against his was intoxicating. And yet, it made him want even more. And more was swelling up behind him.

He felt another limb stretching out, pushing itself over his flank. He turned his head to see the huge phallus that was now draped across him, and pulsing with life. Jesus also turned his head, just to see Sandy’s reaction.

It was everything he imagined it to be, but he never imagined that it would be his. Mesmerized, he watched the velvety folds flatten along the shaft as it grew. Its form was beautiful, but the size… There was no point comparing one penis to another here. With a shudder he noted that his own penis could fit comfortably inside this amazing specimen.

“Oh my God.”

“Yes dear?”

“Your… it’s beautiful…” Sandy complimented, searching for words. He was nervous.

“Aww, thank you.”

His bulging eyes scanned its length and breadth repeatedly. “It’s too big. No, it’s perfect.” He resigned in dejection, “My butt’s too small.”

Harmony rubbed his nose across his creation’s cheek. “You’re just snug, sweetie. Do you trust me?”

“Mmhm,” Sandy assented, but could not remove the quiver from his voice.

“I would never hurt you.”

Sandy was silent for a moment.

“But—you really are all-powerful, aren’t you? So you allow hurt… you’ve allowed me to hurt… I’m sorry, I don’t want to be…” Sandy looked down, ashamed.

“It’s okay Sandy. You’re quite right. Some of the hurt comes because of sin… when ponies don’t listen to my commands, they can get hurt and hurt others. The magic of Equestria is a little… off, because it’s not in harmony with me anymore. But some hurt has nothing to do with that. It makes you grow, and overcome, it shapes your heart and helps you become the pony I made you to be. I use all things, even the bad things, for your best. Even death would just mean that you would be here forever—that’s not so bad, is it?”

The big alicorn put a hoof to his chest, and traced on his skin with the edge of a golden hoof. “But my own intimacy—I would never hurt you that way. It is meant to bring you joy as much as me.”

Sandy nodded.

“If you’re not ready, that’s alright,” Jesus conceded.

There was a pause. After a moment, Sandy once again looked about and surveyed the two of them, and concluded with a flick of his tail. He reached up and pulled his husband’s nose down, to whisper in his ear, “Let’s do it.”

He let go and they looked at each other. Sandy said aloud, “I said I want you. Come in.”

Just those words evoked a twitch and a glistening, glowing dribble. “Do I really turn you on that much?” the little brown colt asked doubtfully.

“You’re as beautiful to me as I am to you.”

Sandy instinctively lifted his tail to present himself as Jesus centered behind him. At first the meeting was gentle, like a kiss. Jesus gently circled the hole, using that bit of early cum to lubricate. Then, he pressed against the entrance, as if to come inside. Sandy could feel his anus stretch, pleasantly, then a bit uncomfortably, and then—it was as if something released, it opened more and pleasantly again, and with a shove, the tip was inside.

This was what Sandy lived for, that moment when somepony who loved him was coming into him and they were becoming one. With a pull on his shoulders and a controlled flexing of the abdomen, the penis gradually pushed between Sandy’s flanks. His abdomen bulged slightly. He felt a fullness like one feels after a satisfying feast. But this was alive, and coursing with hot blood. His flesh rejoiced to be embraced from without and within. When they came to the point where he normally could not be entered further, his body obediently realigned, and ushered its maker deeper inside.

“Aaahhhh, ahhhhh, how…” Sandy moaned, exhilaratingly stimulated.

“I’m your God, don’t I know how to pleasure you?” Jesus said softly. “I love you so much. I am your Husband forever.”

The shaft had disappeared into him, and their thighs hugged together. The marvelous penis twitched, giving Sandy a fluttering sensation in his chest. Having become so joined, it seemed to him that he was now a part of his lover.

“Ah, you’re so soft.” Harmony slid out a ways to begin thrusting. He was still gentle, but humped with more energy, rhythmically massaging Sandy’s body from inside. Sandy squeaked with each thrust. "Ohhh yes." The movement pushed on the base of his own penis and he began to leak onto the sheets.

His Husband nuzzled through his mane. They breathed together, keeping time with the push and pull of their dance. The warm breath from God’s nostrils tickled his neck and face, and royal lips kissed him there again and again.

Jesus grunted, pushed in deep, and gripped him tighter. Those glistening testicles bounced against his hindquarters as they discharged. Sandy felt it welling up behind him, filling the shaft, and then—the semen burst forth inside him. More and more pumped in, it must have been a gallon. But what poured into him was some hybrid of love and light. The part of it that was a true liquid filled him up and gave him an ecstatic buzz as his intestines began to absorb it. Part of it was something otherworldly, which passed through his organ walls and collected around and inside his heart.

He could feel God’s heartbeat as if their hearts were wrapped together. They were in harmony. He felt what his Husband felt for him, real and lasting love that would cherish him forever. Tears welled up in his eyes, as he realized that his lover had loved him this way before he was even born. Connected to its source, his soul compelled him to return that love, and even to expand his spirit to love all beings, just as his noble Lover does.

Sandy’s heart and his body delighted together in the experience. He panted and laughed. He gave a little burp, and then they both laughed. They panted, and laughed again. Everything was well, everything was complete.

They both sighed deeply and contentedly. “Sandy, do you want to know something?” The Creator affirmed, “You were right, what you felt all your life. Sandy Saddles, you were made to be ridden.”

The rested together, content that they were one. That they would always be one.

Sandy’s eyes lit up with realization. “You made me just for you, didn’t you? The others are yours too, but you made me just for you.”

They stayed locked together for a short while. They enjoyed their position, first in movement, then in stillness, pleased to be one. It became long while, perhaps an hour—the best of Sandy’s life. Then the Husband pulled out, but stayed on Sandy, nuzzling around his face. “Sweet cinnamon buns, do you want to cum? You may ride me, if you like.”

“You know I’ve never had the urge to dominate,” Sandy said.

“True, true, that’s how I made Clyde. His greatest fantasy would be to have someone like me under him,” Jesus noted with amusement. “Still, I would like to pleasure you some more, and I want your essence inside me. All you need to do is relax.”

They lay on their sides, still back to front. The alicorn scooted downwards until his chest was over his young betrothed’s behind, so that his long neck could curve around to Sandy’s groin. Jesus kissed the tip of the smaller pony’s penis, deeply and emotionally, as if making out face to face. His lips were searching and enveloping, but his teeth were ever so gentle as they advanced.

For all this, it was a disarmingly innocent sight, like a fawn suckling from its mother. Sandy was pleased that he was still being done from behind, in a way, and that his partner was still in control. Mouth and tongue slowly massaged the phallus until it was ready. When the moment was right, Christ’s tongue slid out from his mouth, around the base of the penis, and curled around Sandy’s testicles. He began to suck as if drinking.

“Oh, oh.” Sandy had never enjoyed his male member quite so much. “I—ungh—I want to—“

The voice in his head encouraged, “Come on, I can handle it.” Sandy gave over to instinct, gripping the large head tightly under him, and began to hump. He thrust forcefully into his Husband’s mouth, again and again, as deep as he pleased, until lips almost reached his anus. Suddenly he stopped, and quivered, released to flow into the love of his eternity, and be joyously received. Jesus pulled back his tongue to swallow, then coaxed some more. “Thank you,” Sandy said. “Thank you so much.”

They rested together, enjoying the connection once again. When Sandy’s satisfied shaft began to contract, his new lover released it gently, and gave a parting peck on the tip. Jesus again kissed his cheek and stated honestly, “My pleasure.”

Sandy moaned and panted, and his lover observed him with satisfaction. Just that they were touching. Sandy wondered, “I know this is right. Why does your law say that colts are not to sleep together?”

“It doesn’t say anything about a colt and God,” God chuckled, before answering seriously.

“When I made the first ponies, I shaped them so that they would fit together to make more life. I created it to be a joyous, intimate bond, so that the parents would stay together to raise the foal. The young one would get the nurture of a mother and the strength of a father. I told them, ‘Go forth and multiply.’ And so they did.

“As time went on, their genes began to mutate slightly. Once it became a problem, I told them that matings of brothers and sisters, and other close pairs, were a terrible thing called ‘incest’. That way, they avoided most of the pairings that would give their young painful genetic disabilities.”

“But I wasn’t going to have children,” Sandy murmured. “I tried to get interested in mares, but I couldn’t. What was wrong with what I did?”

“Let me show you something,” Jesus redirected. He adjusted the image-pool with his magic, showing an awkward teenage colt with his hoof tucked in his groin, shifting his eyes about. “This poor colt felt all sorts of strange feelings as he was going through puberty. He wasn’t sure what kind of pony he was for a while, but as his sexuality developed, his interests steadied toward mares. Do you recognize him?”

“Almost,” Sandy said, straining his memory.

“It’s your father, when he was young,” Jesus explained. “In his time, ponies did not even speak of homosexuality. Had he been born in your generation, when many are dismissing my laws, his peers would have noticed him and called him gay. He would have believed them, and become gay, instead of developing normally.”

“You mean, he could have decided he was gay, and I would never have been born?” Sandy marveled.

“Shhh, it’s too horrible to think of,” Jesus deflected. “I love you so much. The way I wrote history, he married your mother, and they raised you together, and reproduced their heart in you, so that you kept their faith. You believed in me and sought me. You wanted me, and came into my bed.”

“Only a few colts are like you, who are made specially for my love. Most are straight, but some are like your father. They can choose their sexuality, and if they heed my law, they choose mares. Now, let me show you more of my favorite creations.”

Ripples washed away the image and replaced it with another. “Ah, Mercy! She’s so dreamy. I adore her. She adores me too, and looks forward to meeting me. Though she does not admit it to herself fully, she does yearn to become my wife.”

Another image appeared, that of a very handsome young colt. “Watch, this is Honor, the son Mercy is going to have. Isn’t he beautiful? He’s another colt like you. He and I are going to have a great eternity together.” Scenes flashed by: one of Honor and Jesus jumping through the thick weeds of an alien jungle, one of them in a passionate embrace between the sheets, and another with the lucky colt riding on Jesus’ back as they soar through the sky. The last scene showed the omnipotent alicorn grieving, holding Honor close to his chest as the colt shriveled to bones and finally dematerialized.

“What happened!?” Sandy cried with alarm.

“Honor was only a fantasy,” Harmony admitted. “As things are now, he will never exist. Mercy is ready, but the colt’s father will not come to her. Day after day, she prays, and pleads with me that I will send him to her, so that she can know love and bear young. But he doesn’t come.”

Sandy was deeply saddened. “Why not? Mercy is a great mare. What stallion would refuse to go to her?”

“Improbable as it may seem, Honor is the son of Mercy and Clyde Cuddler,” Jesus divulged. Sandy was frozen in shock. “You see, Clyde is a colt like your father. He has decided that he is gay. He is drawn to Mercy, but he’s not with her because he’s with you.”

Sandy’s heart sank, and he considered his friend thoughtfully. “If all this is true, then don’t send me back.”

“If you don’t go back, Clyde will still think he is gay. He’ll find another colt to cuddle. What he needs is a strong and loving partner who can heal the sexual hurts that steered him on this path, so that he can finish his development and become the husband that Mercy longs for.”

“He needs you!” Sandy blurted.

“That’s why you’re going back,” Jesus confirmed.

Sandy’s heart sank. “But I don’t want to be away from you.”

“You are not done with your life,” God decided. “I will teach you how to sense my spirit so that you may know my affection while you are there. I am close to all of them, but only a few choose to receive my presence. Though you live alone, you will know you are betrothed, and I will hold you every night as you go to sleep. Yes, we can even enjoy each other’s bodies through this connection.”

Clyde will be hurt at first, but you must not join with him again. Instead, teach him to let me visit him, like I do with you. I will thrill him and complete him, and show him to appreciate Mercy. Their son, Honor, will be born as one of the few who are dedicated to me alone, because of his father. Clyde and Mercy will teach him their faith; he will want me and I will come to him.”

Sandy wondered further, “Are all ponies who call on your name to be married to you?”
“Yes,” Jesus answered, “I am the Husband, but most do not know it yet. They have been blinded to what they read because they are not ready to know.”

“Will Anvil be yours?” Sandy asked in disbelief.

“Yes, even he, though he understands my love poorly. Do you forgive him for despising you?”

Sandy nodded. “Now that I understand, and now that you’ve cleansed me, I do forgive him.”

“Good,” Harmony encouraged. “I have been close to Anvil. When he bows in prayer, I am right in front of him, listening. Sometimes I just want to kiss him right there and show him my love—but that would frighten him away. He will only understand when he finally comes here. But you do understand. Now you know me, and you know my heart.”

Sandy raised his mouth to his Husband’s ear and whispered, “I love your heart. Please, may I ask one thing?”

“Of course, my love,” the great alicorn responded with charm.

“Allow me to stay here another day, while you teach me how to commune with your spirit,” Sandy requested. “And let me be with you another night.”

Jesus smiled sweetly, and kissed him on the nose. “Another night it is.”

Author's Note

Again, this is not a trollfic. While some may be offended, that was not my aim. I believe that the Bible makes Jesus' romantic love for the world quite clear. I wish that the church would stop making gay people feel like mistakes and realize that they are in truth unusually blessed, if they will give themselves to His love. If you want to talk about accepting Jesus as your Savior, your Lord, or your Husband, send me a PM. He's in love with you.

(I realize that Lesbianism is not included in the text. Not for idle curiosity, but for those actually seeking, I feel that there is a beautiful answer for that as well.)