Position of Opposition

All NSFW content is disabled. Click here if you want to enable it.
"Since your re­birth I am al­ways with you,
Deep in your mind, cre­ative, pro­tec­tive.
And nev­er for­get it...
I was and I am in your thoughts and your breath,
I dwell in your dreams,
I am your life and your death,
I stay with you every day, every night,
You hear my whis­pers, I am your guide.
So nev­er again say my name aloud,
Pro­tect what you've got
And keep it away from the crowd."

A very beau­ti­ful and pow­er­ful an­them from Pol­ish met­al band VAD­ER.

Bare and glo­ri­ous, he made him­self com­fort­able, sit­ting with his legs crossed on a cloud of warm air in front of God's silent eye and made the prayer ges­ture, press­ing his hands to­geth­er in front of his chest.
Af­ter a time of sit­ting in front of God's eye which was ador­ing his beau­ti­ful body, he sud­den­ly let his feet rise from cross legged po­si­tion and ef­fort­less­ly go be­hind his own back, com­plete­ly with­out the help of his hands.

His feet went far be­hind his back and all the way down to his waist's lev­el. The God's eye widened at this new shape. Pleased with the re­ac­tion, he let the air turn him around like a turntable, and then pressed his feet to­geth­er be­hind his back, re­peat­ing the prayer ges­ture with his feet his time.

Af­ter a while he let the air turn him up­side down and his legs straight­en, then his spine be­gan to bend back­wards dis­play­ing un­nat­ur­al flex­i­bil­i­ty, un­til it fold­ed so much that his butt pressed as firm­ly as it was pos­si­ble against his up­per back and his thighs lay on top of his own shoul­ders.

He once again pressed his feet to­geth­er, as well as his hands, this time be­ing able to face God while do­ing so from this po­si­tion.

"IT'S A SIN!!!"

Sud­den­ly the voice roared and echoed across all heav­en. Archangel Gabriel de­scend­ed, his face red­dened by anger or maybe some­thing else. The God's eye blinked and closed, where­as Gabriel stood in front of the flex­i­ble one with frus­tra­tion on his face.

"The body was giv­en as an in­stru­ment for the soul, not for this foul mock­ery of its nat­ur­al lim­i­ta­tions!"

"But Gabriel," he once again sat cross-legged up­on his cloud. "I think it's beau­ti­ful and shows much more de­vo­tion than the sim­ple prayer pose," he spoke with a great pride in his voice. "I cal­cu­lat­ed that even hu­mans should be able to learn these pos­tures if they start from an ear­ly age, and this is how us an­gels could tell with much more clar­i­ty that a per­son is tru­ly de­vot­ed to God. Think of it, Gab­by. No more need for holy wars, self-lac­er­a­tion, cas­tra­tion, all these hor­rid things that the fa­nat­ics do to show their de­vo­tion. In­stead, every­body will be do­ing all kinds of beau­ti­ful..."

"Si­lence!" Gabriel's face al­most turned green. "The body is a cre­ation of God and it's against all fun­da­men­tals to force it in­to these un­nat­ur­al po­si­tions. It's a sin and I can't be­lieve that my fel­low archangel I trust­ed so much had fall­en so low! Not to men­tion this friv­o­lous speech about the sa­cred tra­di­tions of self-lac­er­a­tion and oth­er things."

"But..." the eye­brows of the flex­i­ble one squeezed. He was of­ten told by his as­sis­tant an­gels that it looks a bit wrong what he was learn­ing to do. "I'm afraid God will not like it, my love..." His cute beloved used to tell him al­most every time he as­sist­ed him with the stretch­es. "But why?" he would raise his brow, un­able to un­der­stand why work­ing out his body for mus­cles was al­right but adding some flex­i­bil­i­ty skills to it was not. "I don't know, this just... feels wrong some­how..." His lover blushed while hold­ing his body in an ex­treme stretch. "I think it's beau­ti­ful and it took me years to per­fect. I don't be­lieve He wouldn't en­joy this sheer per­fec­tion of the body He cre­at­ed..."
Gabriel stood there for a while, mak­ing up his mind, watch­ing the ac­cused one's eyes move ran­dom­ly in con­fu­sion, ap­par­ent­ly him be­ing un­able to grasp the idea of hav­ing done some­thing sin­ful. Gabriel was try­ing hard to as­so­ciate un­nat­ur­al po­si­tions with any of the sev­en dead­ly sins, but noth­ing use­ful was com­ing on his mind. "It's a sin any­way," he re­peat­ed. "And for this sin, thou shall be... ex­iled from heav­en!"
A great si­lence bur­dened the air. The flex­i­ble an­gle just couldn't be­lieve what he had just heard. His fa­cial ex­pres­sion quick­ly changed from friend­ly to near­ly heart-bro­ken af­ter such a short but hurt­ful phrase.

"Fur­ther­more, to make you un­der­stand what you've com­mit­ted, your body shall be trans­formed in un­nat­ur­al ways to make you nev­er for­get what you've done. Since you want­ed to teach these things to hu­mans, you must have a great sym­pa­thy for them, so your an­gel­ic gen­i­talia will be re­placed with the hu­man one, thus you shall not be able to make love with an an­gel any­more. And since you seem to en­joy the great dis­com­fort of these crooked pos­es, you shall be giv­en the horns of an an­i­mal to live with dis­com­fort at all times. And fi­nal­ly, you will be sent to the land of no clouds and you will have to sleep on rocks and see what it's like. Now go away!"

He felt so of­fend­ed that Gabriel in­stant­ly died as a leader and re­spectable archangel in his eyes. But the of­fense was too much to op­pose his ex-leader right away.

"Al­right. I will go away. But first I will make an oath. I swear to make the best pos­si­ble use of your hor­ri­ble gifts and in the end find a way to use them all against you. I'll make love to a thou­sand hu­man wives who will give me ten thou­sand chil­dren and it will be just the be­gin­ning of my own do­min­ion."

"One day," he con­tin­ued. "I will gath­er an army enor­mous enough to beat you and my many sons will sodom­ize all the pret­ty an­gels in heav­en if they couldn't make love with them the nor­mal an­gel­ic way any­more. One day I will make you re­gret these words and beg for mer­cy at my feet. That will be pressed to­geth­er be­hind my back."

He smirked, get­ting in­to a dan­ger­ous mood. "And then you will be forced to kiss my bendy ass. That will be sit­ting like a crown up­on my own head. And then I will or­der my hun­dred thou­sand grand­sons to fold their backs in half at once and watch your eyes ex­plode at the sheer sight of so much bendi­ness. Hell yeah..."

"You are... You've been a de­mon all along! Be­gone, dev­il!!"

"You are noth­ing but a piece of holy shit, Archangel. I used to like you for so many thou­sand years but now I re­al­ize you're noth­ing but a princess sit­ting in a cloud cas­tle with her own idea of what she con­sid­ers as good or bad. I don't re­mem­ber God giv­ing you or who­ev­er else here any pow­er over oth­ers. The sto­ry is that one day you just came to pow­er, just be­cause you kept on and on telling oth­er an­gels what to do, what's a sin and what's not a sin. And that's all. In essence you're just a saint-wannabe holy shit of an an­gel!"

Gabriel didn't re­ply but took out his gi­ant shin­ing sword. But God's eye opened once again and the dark haired beau­ty in­stant­ly van­ished from heav­en.

He found him­self sit­ting on a black rock with all the promised curs­es on his body. The hard rock felt re­al­ly un­com­fort­able. He tried to breathe out some air to make a cloud but it was quite heavy and didn't let him float much.

Af­ter study­ing his large and seem­ing­ly very un­com­fort­able an­i­mal horns, he looked at his crotch from where a set of male hu­man gen­i­talia was stick­ing out. "I need to learn how to use all this. It looks kind of too big, I won­der if it would fit in­to my hu­man wives. Which re­minds me, I al­so need to find a way to the mor­tal realm from here... But first, I so feel like stretch­ing for an hour or two..."

He gath­ered all his breath to make a large enough air cloud to lev­i­tate up­on. As usu­al, he start­ed by push­ing his feet far be­hind his back but some­thing made him cringe.

"Ouch! So he al­so made it feel a bit more painful, huh?.. But noth­ing I can't learn to en­joy over time..." He man­aged to push one of his feet all the way down be­hind his waist, but the sec­ond foot dis­obeyed his best ef­forts, re­mind­ing him of his very first days of stretch­ing. "Don't tell me I'll have to re­learn every­thing from scratch... What a tor­ment. But that's al­so quite nos­tal­gic, so noth­ing I can­not en­joy," he gig­gled to him­self.

"Un­know­ing­ly," he sud­den­ly spoke af­ter an hour of med­i­ta­tion, his eyes star­ing in­to the emp­ty space in front of him. "He gave me a great idea. I will teach my sons to be proud of be­ing able to tol­er­ate pain. They will then teach their own sons, my grand­sons, to take pain as a plea­sure. The third gen­er­a­tion will then be im­mune to pain and there will be noth­ing they wouldn't dare to try. And as the time pass­es, the sixth gen­er­a­tion will crave for noth­ing but pain and they will be the great and fear­some ones who will con­quer heav­en for me."

"You want­ed an evil guy, Archangel?" he went on with his curs­ing. "Just you wait and you'll get one. But now I re­al­ly need to learn all about this new set of hu­man gen­i­talia be­cause I swear one day I will make them work against you and your beat­en up mus­cled ass. You've ba­si­cal­ly cho­sen this size for your­self, Archangel. I am proud of the di­men­sions of this ele­phant trunk of a horse cock be­cause to me all those an­i­mals put to­geth­er sym­bol­ize the sheer amount of your fu­ture mis­ery and dis­grace. Hell yeah... Now, how do I make it point up­ward?"

He strained his crotch's mus­cles to the max. "Argh! Why doesn't it work? Does this thing have a mind of its own or what? It doesn't feel to be con­nect­ed to the rest of the mus­cles... So weird. Al­right, I'll fig­ure it out lat­er, for now I need to look around and see if I can find any ob­sid­i­an in some cave here to make a por­tal... I guess be­fore look­ing for wives I'll need to find some hu­man male to show me how things work, so I don't em­bar­rass my­self with my first hu­man woman. Good plan. Oh but first I need to find the in­gre­di­ents for a po­tion to tem­porar­i­ly hide these horns. So much work, so much work..."

See al­so