Sanbelat the Horny

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Sanbelat the Horny was horny.

He adjusted the black hat and suit he was wearing, wiping the sweat from his brow. A black hat and suit were the last thing you’d think of wearing in the Middle East, but this what Moses had worn when he left Egypt, so it figured that those devoted to fearing God would do the same.

He gazed at the sexy images that peered back at him from the bottom of the earthenware bowls he had lined up on the ground. In 3,000 years, Rabbi Ken Spiro would explain that this nudity would represent the depravity the world had been plunged into until the Jews had lit up the nations.

Illustrative photo of the illustrations in question.

Dunno, Sanbelat kind of liked things this way. Without these bowls, he’d be forced to just masturbate to bible verses. Ezikiel 23.19 – “for their cocks are like horses, and their semen flows like donkeys”. Song of Songs 7.3 – “Your tits are like pomegranates”.

He was paraphrasing, but only slightly. That’s the gist. He wasn’t great at memorization, but he knew those words well.

The verses were juicy, but these images at the bottom of the bowls were juicer. Every month Earth&Wear would release a new edition of their bowls, with the Figure of the Month™ carved in the bottom. You had to collect them all.  

You know what wasn’t fair to Sanbelat? That his name would never catch on. Other bible names would totally stick. Daniel. Jonathan. David. Judah, who incidentally had a predilection for whores.

Sanbelat had a real ring to it – but it would be relegated to fictional-sounding stories, like this one.  That said, Sanbelat felt there was still hope. Onan literally had masturbation named after him. If he played his cards right, maybe lust would be named after Sanbelat the Horny.

He remembered the day the finger arrived in the mail, by courier. It belonged to a concubine who’s man had let her be gang raped to death. Aghast that something so evil could occur despite his total complacency, he’d chopped her into pieces and sent her off to all the rest of the tribes.

To communicate his point.

Sanbelat didn’t get what the big deal was. Rape wasn’t even prohibited in the Torah. Although personally he preferred that the women he had sex with actually wanted it. It was more fun that way.

Everyone else was particularly enraged by the actions of a small group of hooligans, and so the remaining tribes had started a civil war and killed almost every single human from the tribe of Benjamin.

Realization suddenly dawned that killing every single human from the tribe of Benjamin would mean they would cease to exist, and, full of remorse, they remediated the situation by allowing the remaining men to kidnap their daughters and progenate the next generation.

Disaster averted.

Sanbelat had a girlfriend. She actually wasn’t even an Israelite, because the Torah didn’t explicitly prohibit dating a non-Jewish woman. Hell, Jacob has married a non-Jewish woman. Four of them, in fact. He was gonna buy the rights to her marriage, just as soon as saved up enough camels.

His Rabbis would admonish him.

“Sanbelat,” Rabbi Ishmael would say (another name that didn’t really stay in style), standing beneath the tallest palm tree, as was the custom of Men of Authority. “You should study more and jerk off less.”

Sanbelat would try. But there was very little to study yet. Just a few books.  The five books of Moses. 12 out of the remaining 19 books that would eventually be written.

Esther hadn’t happened yet. Chronicles was only partially Chronicled. Definitely no Rashi or Tosfot to endlessly debate.

Sanbelat’s other classmates didn’t fare much better. They’d crowd into the synagogue, the very same ones that would be unearthed by archeologists centuries later. They’d do everything they could to avoid any sort of livelihood-making activities. Those were women’s jobs, along with cooking and cleaning and making babies.

And let’s not even get started with serving in King David’s army. Hell no.

Sanbelat was keeping the world aloft with every holy word he spoke. Huddled over the parchment by the light of an oil lamp, pouring over writings that would be illegible to modern day Jews, he was truly a light unto the nations.

Proverbs 5:19: “I love sucking graceful nips”.  

Sanbelat gripped his dick with determination.

It was hard being a Yeshiva Bochur in 1,000 BC.

But someone had to do it.

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