The angel looked down at me for a moment, and then returned It's gaze to the pile of papers lying on the high bench before It.
I refer to the angel as "It" because I had concluded that angels, despite the fact that they are all very attractive and generally have a female appearance, they are in fact androgynous.
While on the subject let me point out that they do not have wings, are not clad in white robes but in dark business suits, and do not sing eternally in heavenly choirs. Come to think of it I haven't heard anyone singing since I've been here and I don't know how long that is because it's difficult to judge time when you're in eternity.
And that's another thing; the angels are in fact members of the bureaucracy and perform many functions including making judgments. The head of the organization, so I understand, is rarely seen and delegates most tasks to the angels. The boss, He/She/It, does make an occasional exception such as on the arrival of a pope, a head of the Orthodox Church and the odd archbishop of Canterbury. At such times He/She/It undertakes the judgment His/Her/Itself.
One other thing I should point out for the benefit of those whose symbolic imagery is still buried in the Middle Ages, is that heaven and hell are not two distinct places. It is all a matter of gradation and you need not fear eternal fires because they have more subtle ways of dealing with earthly saints and sinners.
As I stood, sat or lay – there's no way of telling when you're in eternity – before the angel It continued to study the papers, occasionally conferring with the clerk who sat, or seemed to sit at a table just in front of a high judgment bench, and It intermittently muttered, smiled and frowned.
Finally It looked up at me, a deep furrow in It's brow.
"Incest," It exclaimed, "we've been getting an increasing amount of this lately." Its tone of voice did not auger well for me.
Then, "Ah, I see that the relationship was not simply based upon lust, but had a strong element of love."
It raised its eyebrows questioningly as if expecting a response, so I said, "Yes, your honour, mother and I loved each other very much."
There was more paper studying and then sharply, "I see that you started to fantasise about watching your mother while she had sexual intercourse with your friend Jamie, but such coition has in fact never occurred.
"No your honour."
"But you do not deny the fantasy?"
"No your honour."
"Hmmm, well, I suppose it shows a degree of unselfishness, wanting to share your mother with your friend."
More paper studying and conferring with the clerk, then solemnly, "I have taken into account your love and desire to unselfishly share your mother with Jamie and I propose to give you a lenient sentence."
Whispering with the clerk then, "You will be taken from here to a place where, for the next ten thousand Earth years you will witness Jamie having sexual intercourse with your mother. I must warn you however, that if after the ten thousand Earth years you are deemed fit to have your soul returned to Earth, and at your next demise you appear before me again, I shall be forced to deal with you most severely. Take him down."
*****
You don't actually go anywhere or get taken anywhere here, you just dissolve in one place and reconstitute in another place, if there is such a thing as another place in infinity. The angel, clerk, high bench and table melted away and for a moment or a million years I was alone and feeling positively euphoric.
This was punishment, to watch my mother and Jamie making love? It was surely a reward and not a punishment. But they're more devious than that here.
A scene appeared that I recognised immediately. It was my mother's bedroom and she was lying on her bed naked with legs spread wide and raised, as she had so often done when she was ready for my penetration.
I could see every detail of her sex organ, the dusting of pubic hair, the outer lips of her vulva open slightly to reveal the soft, pink inner lips, and just a hint of the opening to her vaginal canal. Her breasts were just as they had always been, reminding me of two ripe half melons topped with pink raspberries. Her lovely blonde hair was spread across the pillow like a golden fan.
Yes, it was all as I had often seen it and I felt my penis begin to grow long and hard.
Then Jamie, also naked, entered the scene. He lay beside mother, kissing her and fondling her breasts. I could see his erect penis, and had a silent snigger; it wasn't as big as mine. The scene was very erotic, but strangely silent. I knew from experience that when her breasts were fondled mother always made soft sighing sounds. Now it was like watching one of those old silent films but without the captions.
Jamie began to suck her nipples and mother started to whimper and clutch Jamie's head to her; I couldn't hear the whimpers but I could see her mouth moving.
I was really horny and looking at my shaft I got a pleasant surprise; it seemed that they had provided me with an extended version of the original. I can't tell you how much bigger it was because there is no big and small here, but it was definitely an expansion on the old model.
Jamie had his head between mother's legs and was enjoying her female smell and fluid. Mother was frantic, writhing and clutching the two wooden columns that made up part of the bed head. I knew she would be sobbing and screaming by this stage, and I could see her head rolling from side to side and her body arching in ecstasy.
Then Jamie was lying over her, pounding into her with ever increasing urgency, until both of them were a struggling tangle of bodies and limbs.
Slowly they grew quiet, and mother had a seraphic – perhaps I shouldn't use that word here – smile on her face. Jamie withdrew from her and looked at me. By then my penis was dripping pre-ejaculation fluid in clear sticky droplets. He got off the bed and mother extended her arms to me. I moved towards her and as I did, the scene dissolved.
There was nothing; no bedroom, no mother, no Jamie; all had disappeared. I was beside myself with agonising sexual frustration. I tried to masturbate and found I couldn't. Try as I might my fingers just wouldn't take hold of my foreskin.
The scene appeared again; the bedroom, mother, Jamie, and all was the same as before. Then again and again, like a continuous loop of film it went on and on.
Then I realised the true meaning of my punishment. I was doomed to watch this scene played out for ten thousand Earth years; to suffer the anguish of a sexual arousal of monstrous proportions and never to have my hunger satisfied. I howled in desolation.
*****
"Wake up darling, wake up, you're having a bad dream."
