Bejewelled
Papa Emeritus II x Reader
Itâs Papa Secondoâs birthday, and after spending the hole day working, he just wants to relax. But how can he when his favourite Sister of Sin is being a bad girl in front of everyone?
Masterlist ⧠Commissioned by @inkstainedrat
Words: 5.6k.
Reading Time: 22 min.
Warnings: anal play, begging, breeding degradation, cock warming, creampie, dubcon, fingering, frottage, free use, groping, hair pulling, mentions of cunnilingus, mentions of fellatio, pain kink, PIV sex, positive degradation, praise, rough sex, spanking, spit as lube, underprepared, unprotected sex (Embrace safety - enjoy it greatly), vaginal sex,
Taglist: @inkstainedrat @da-rulah @teenage-birt-dag @akayuki56 @socksandcr0cs @dio-niisio @duskspring @foxybouquet @likeloversentwined
Thank you to @da-rulah, @angellayercake and @tasty-ribz for workshopping some of these ideas with me and getting me on track!
đ MDNI đ
You settled into your space at the meeting table, notepad opened to the next available page and date written at the top of it in neat handwriting. You had taken on a more secretarial role for the Ministry, providing the reigning Papa with a helping hand as he went about his daily schedule. The other clergy members were already sat and settled like you, cardinal robes of black and red alternating the seats like chess pieces on a board, broken occasionally by the odd sibling of sin whoâd, like you, joined to either take notes for their respective bosses, or provide insight on the general running of the Ministry where the upper clergy couldnât assist. In short, everyone was ready and waiting, conversations slipping past your ears as certain cardinals spoke over you, not to you. But they soon silenced themselves when the door opened and Papa Emeritus II walked through the doors.
Papa Secondo, despite being a softhearted, kind man, oozed an intimidating aura that put men in their place just by his presence alone. Papa Secondo was not a man to be trifled with, played with, or undermined in any way. His word was law, even among his brothers, one of which outranked him in both age and experience. He took no shit, dished out as much as he could, and ultimately threw his weight around in a respectable, yet authoritative way. Just the mere look of his scowl would have your thighs clenching, and heat pooling between your legs - and you werenât the only one affected by this.
Papa Secondoâs personality was much different to that of his brothers. Before he met you, he would almost never seek a woman out, heâd rarely approach her, rarely proposition her - in fear of making her uncomfortable mostly, but he also didnât want to blend in with the other men in the Ministry, his younger brother included, who would approach and whine and beg for the ladies to spread their legs and invite him in willingly. Besides, there was something inside him that loved being chased rather than doing the chasing. The idea that a beautiful woman would want him so much, sheâd run after him and coyly ask if heâd give her some company later on. That a beautiful woman would want him so much, that sheâd face the fear of rejection in front of her friends and potentially embarrass herself, just to get the opportunity to hold him. Heâd never approach a woman, but heâd also never reject one either. And, as he entered the room, your eyes darted to all the other sisters who were equally as squirmy as you, the mere proximity being too much for you all to handle.
It always made you feel smug knowing he had such an affect on the rest of the clergy, but would always come back to you no matter what.
Men feared him. Women wanted him. Somehow, the perfect man did exist, and he wore black, glitter paints and silenced a room just by opening a door.
âBuon pomeriggio.â He said, his deep voice quiet yet commanding. He kept his eyes straight in front of him as he entered the room, not bothering to spare a glance to his colleagues until heâd approached his seat at the head of the table and directly opposite you. You were the first person his mismatched eyes had landed on, reminding you that to him, you were the most important person in the room despite your low ranking among his peers. Once heâd registered your existence, he sat down and situated himself comfortably, gloved hands immediately opening his own folder to pull out the important documents for the meeting. Once heâd personally acknowledged everyone else in the room, he cleared his throat and began.
âOra, we have many things on the agenda today, so I would like to start immediately, by Sathanas and the mother, Lilith, we thank and worship thee as we do ourselves. Nema.â
âNema.â Came the chorus of the clergy.
âCardinale Zhang,â he looked towards the man and you watched as Cardinal Zhang startled at the sudden attention. Papa Secondo noticed, and despite his face being emotionless and stoic, a flicker of amusement passed across his eyes, feeding on the Cardinalâs fear. âYou have been visiting universities to de-stigmatise the Faith. Update me, how is that going?â
Cardinal Zhang swallowed and cleared his throat doing his best to hide his nerves. He failed, obviously. He began talking, detailing his efforts across the Atlantic in America and how heâd shown up for each of the universities along the East Coast, hoping to break through to the youth. But as a lot of that part of America were staunch âRed Statesâ and Christians, he was met with a lot of resistance.
Secondo, somewhat surprisingly, was understanding with his response. For once, he didnât criticise the Cardinalâs failure, or what he deemed as such, rather the countryâs unwillingness to be open to change. He quickly followed up that comment with another about Salem, and how they were always welcomed with open arms there thanks to the work of previous clergy members whoâd moved to set up temples and places of worship.
He then moved on quickly to the next outreach programme, opening the Ministry doors once a month for visitors and tours of the historical building they all called home - another effort of de-stigmatisation that was under the watchful eyes of Cardinal Garcia. His tone softened when he spoke to her, his eyes never leaving hers as he listened intently to everything she had to say. âWe get upwards of one thousand visitors per weekend, Papa.â She confirmed in an upbeat tone. âThis is a 20% increase of last year. Weâre still keeping our entrance fee at 20 Euros for now,â she handed a sheet of paper to one of the Ghouls standing behind her, who then brought it to Papa Secondo to browse at his leisure, which he did, âLast month alone we received approximately 20,080 Euros. Our finance specialists have worked closely with our social media team, and have worked out we may get roughly a further 500 guests next month, an additional 50% growth, which should tip us over the 20,500 Euro benchmark.â
âCan we quantify the impact of these tours on public perception and understanding of our beliefs and values?â Papa asked, not taking his eyes off the paper.
âI believe so, Papa. On average,â she handed another sheet of paper to a Ghoul, â30% of guests purchase a membership of the Satanic Church, and organise unholy baptisms. 10% actively apply to work and live here full time.â
âHow many of these applications get accepted?â
âRecently, with all the moves and changes of our staff, around 50% got accepted last month. But usually, we only select from the most impressive, which is, as accurately as I can describe it, a handful.â
âAre any of our parishes around the world asking for more siblings?â
âIâm not sure, Papa. Thatâs Cardinal Smithâs jurisdiction.â
Papaâs eyes snapped to Cardinal Smith, another man who shivered beneath the weight of Papaâs gaze. âWell?â He snapped, expectantly, clearly annoyed by Cardinal Smithâs lack of initiative.
âW-we have had a few requests, Your Dark Eminence.â Cardinal Smith stammered.
âAnd how many siblings have been transferred?â
âWell, n-none.â
Papaâs eyebrows raised. âNone? Questo è un cazzo di scherzo assoluto! PerchĂŠ? Why are you not assisting our unholy siblings?â
âWe couldnât spare the people.â
âSei stupido, Cardinale Smith?â
âN-no, Your Dark Eminence.â
âThen why do you not liaison with Cardinale Garcia and ask her to accept more applicants to send them overseas after their education?â
âI d-didnât think.â
âAh. Non mi sorprende, Cardinale. A brain as smooth as yours must be kept shiny and pristine, sĂŹ? Cannot be worried about trivial tasks such as thinking.â His tone softened again as he turned to - âCardinale Garcia, work with Cardinale Stronzo in providing new applicants for our unholy siblings overseas, per favore.â He turned to another woman in the room. âCardinale Kim, I would also like you to work on this with Cardinale Garcia and Smith to speed up our applicants education and send them out to their respective countries. When you have the time, of course.â
âOf course, Papa.â Cardinal Kim responded.
âI thank Lilith that there are two intelligent women on this job. Sathanas knows weâd fall apart if it was left only to the smooth brained of us in the room.â He cleared his throat. âSorella ___,â he said addressing you, âare you getting all of this?â
You didnât look up from your notebook, wrist aching from all the minutes you were taking. âIt would help if you spoke slower, Papa.â You replied, insubordinately. You didnât need to look at Papa to know he was looking at you furiously. âEither that or let me bring my laptop to these meetings.â
âYour laptop is too loud.â He protested through gritted teeth.
You finally looked at him, a small grin on your face. âThen speak slower. Please.â
He sighed and sat back in his seat, staring daggers into your soul. You were usually so sweet and polite to him - his little angioletta who respected him in front of everyone in the vicinity, who behaved so obediently behind closed doors and thanked him for all that he gave you. You were never bratty to your Papa, never rude or obnoxious. âYouâre very audacious today, little one.â He commented, his tone commanding your obedience lest you face a punishment.
You persisted, the idea of dealing with your angry Papa later on too delectable to give up now. Papa would often take his frustrations out on you, an agreement between the both of you allowed him to take your consent and use you as he pleased, whenever he pleased. You would always spread your legs willingly for him, or bend yourself over and arch your back just as he liked without him uttering a single word, and depending on the kind of day heâd had, youâd either be worshipped, or bruised by his daily frustrations. Youâd told him through bright red cheeks once that you thoroughly enjoyed him using you to deal with his anger, and so, he would have you whenever he felt even a little bit perturbed. But never were you the reason for his anger, not until today. And the way he looked at you now had your hole clenching around nothing, and a need to push him until he snapped and bubbled beneath your surface. Youâd started now, you didnât think youâd be able to stop until he put you back in your place.
âWell, I wouldnât want to be blamed for missing even a drop of your wisdom.â
The rest of the room shifted uncomfortably as the tension became so thick, youâd need a chainsaw to cut through it.
âIâd hold my tongue if I were you, angioletta.â
âBut youâre not me, Papa.â
Papa dropped into a foul mood for the rest of the meeting, shooting you angry looks and constantly asking if he was being slow enough for you. But eventually, the meeting came to an end, and Papa pushed everyone out of the room, keeping you in your place. As soon as the door closed, in a harsh tone, he broke the silence. âAngioletta, what was that?â
âWhat was what, Papa?â You asked, feigning innocence.
âDonât play dumb with me - you know what you did. Sathanas, ___. Since when do you have sass with your Papa, hm? Since when do you show your Papa such disrespect?â He sighed at your lack of answer. He stood and walked over to you, looking down on you as you remained seated in your chair. You werenât looking up at him, instead keeping your gaze straight on the seat he was sat in before, and he didnât appreciate this either. With his finger and his thumb, he gently pinched your chin and guided your face to look at him, forcing eye contact with you. âI expect you on your best behaviour tonight, angioletta. Capisce? No sass, no back talk. Just doting on your Papa on his birthday, sĂŹ?â
âHappy birthday, Papa.â You said, softly, a smile playing on your lips. Wholesome. Nonsuspect.
âGrazie, amore mio.â He bent down to kiss your forehead then left you alone in the room, seemingly unaware that youâd never actually agreed to anything.
That evening, you dressed in your finest for your Papa, choosing a dress gifted to you by him. It was just something simple, a body con black dress that hugged your curves in all the right ways, paired with a Satanic pentagram harness that he loved to see you in. It was really no effort at all, but your Papa would certainly enjoy you tonight. A feast for his eyes - at least you hoped.
You were one of Secondoâs earliest guests, besides his older brother Papa Primo, arriving at his quarters and knocking on the door before entering. Papa Primo greeted you warmly, and welcomed you in, placing a drink in your hand. You could already smell the dinner coming from Secondoâs private kitchen and felt your stomach growl in hunger. You were so ready for the feast to begin - and for your torture of your Papa to continue. You werenât just ravenous for the food, especially when you saw him enter the dining room, not wearing his usual robes but still painted in his official paints. His suit was perfectly tailored, cut to each contour of his body, and made from a rich, cold, emerald green. Velvet. Accompanied by a deep green tie and his favourite black-painted fingernails. In his robes he was divine. In a suit? You were feral.
As soon he saw you, you watched as his glittery eyes darkened, and his chest reflected a deep sigh. The second he was beside you, his hands grasped onto your hips and pulled you into him, lips attaching to your neck. He didnât care that he already had other guests - he didnât care that he may be smudging his paints. He was too intoxicated by you to do anything other than dig his fingers into the meat of your flesh and inhale your seductive perfume, bewitching him beyond belief. He was ready to drop to his knees and worship you there and then, except you pushed him away.
âI havenât forgotten how you spoke to me earlier, Papa.â You chided, keeping your voice as level as you could and holding back your giggles when his expression changed.
âAngioletta,â he practically whined, âyou promised.â
âNo,â you poked his chest, âyou laid down the law. I never told you Iâd follow it.â
âYou want to make me suffer all night, hm? Embarrass me in front of everyone.â
âI never want to embarrass you, Papa. Iâd like an apology.â
He frowned. âFor what?â
You sighed. âUse that big, wrinkly brain of yours and think.â And with that, you walked away. In truth he had nothing to apologise for and you both knew it. But you enjoyed watching him stew away in his mind, greeting and welcoming guests and trying to maintain a semblance of composure. You were teetering on the line between enjoyment and cruelty, though. And youâd need to end this quickly so as not to actually spoil his birthday.
Secondoâs quarters had never been so lively, but even then, they were lively by Secondoâs standards. To celebrate his birthday, all of the people closest to him had gathered in his chambers, crowded around his long dining table (that he mostly used for work), and feasted on the delightful Italian delicacies hand crafted by the Ministryâs chefs, whom youâd paid extra to cook for everyone for the evening. Amidst the clinking of glasses filled with the Ministryâs own wine, and the aroma of garlic-infused dishes wafting through the air, the place was abuzz with laughter and conversation, but your attention was solely fixed on one man â Papa Secondo himself.
He sat beside you at the head of the table, his natural scowl creasing his glabella as he looked upon his guests and listened to their conversations, responding only when he needed to, but enjoying the atmosphere, nonetheless. His paints were perfectly worn, not a single line bent or crooked, or even smudged with the wine heâd drunk, or the food heâd so gracefully placed into his mouth as though he were the epitome of sophistication - which, to be fair, he was. His Roman nose making his profile so intoxicating, so powerful, you found yourself staring at him, drinking in the love of your life and appreciating him silently for the work of art he was.
Secondo cleared his throat, his gaze sweeping across the room as he prepared to address his guests. âMy dear friends, I want to take this moment to express my gratitude for your presence here tonight,â he began, his voice carrying authority and warmth. âYour loyalty and support mean more to me than you can imagine.â
You couldnât resist interjecting with a sassy remark. âOh, how touching, Papa,â you said, your tone dripping with sarcasm. âI almost believe you mean it.â
The room fell into a momentary silence as everyone turned their attention to the unexpected exchange between you both. Secondoâs expression darkened, his jaw tensing as he turned to face you.
âSorella,â he said through gritted teeth, his tone a warning.
But you refused to back down, your gaze challenging. âWhat, Papa? Canât handle a little honesty?â You retorted, your voice edged with defiance. You squirmed in your seat under the heat of his gaze, the unbridled anger that oozed off him like peach juice dripping down oneâs chin. Your heart beat rapidly in your chest as you watched him become more and more enraged at your attitude, and you tried so hard not to let your enjoyment show.
Secondoâs eyes narrowed, a flash of irritation crossing his features before he regained his composure. âI expect respect in my presence, Sorella,â he replied, his voice low and controlled.
You took a sip of your wine and set your glass down. âAnd yet, you donât always deserve it.â
âMy room. Now.â He all but hissed. His grip on his glass was choking, and you could almost see it shattering in his hand from the force. Youâd done it. You got him. Now was the time to obey. You stood and made your way to his bedroom as instructed, hearing him excuse you both and urge his guests to continue without him. The part where he was announcing that he was going to scold you for your behaviour was missing, but certainly implied, and within a few seconds you heard him chase after you and the guests murmuring in the background, only to be blocked by him slamming the door shut.
âWhat the fuck was that, hm?â He growled, his hand coming up to your hair and pulling it at the roots, making you look into his eyes.
âIâm sorry, Papa!â
âSorry? Amore mio, itâs a little late for that, do you not think? Embarrassing me in front of everyone.â
You laughed.
âChe cosâè questo? Laughing at your Papa?â He stopped, a realisation dawning on him. âAh. I see how it is. My angioletta is giving into sin tonight? Becoming a whore to anger her Papa.â He released you and gestured to the bed. âHands on the bed. Now, amore.â You obeyed him for the first time that day, resting your hands on the bed and bending at the waist, exposing your ass to him. You knew what was coming, your core clenching in anticipation of feeling his hand come down on you at full force. You arched your back as much as you could, allowing your ass to pop for him, and hearing him groan in appreciation when you did.
âYou wanted to play with your Papa,â he said coming up behind you, âso letâs play, hm?â
His hand came down on your left ass cheek, the sting you enjoyed so much muffled by layer of fabric still (barely) covering your body. The first hit was gentle, barely stinging at all. As angry as Secondo was, he still took his time with you, making sure he didnât hurt you too much and too quickly. He mirrored this on your right cheek, back to your left, back to your right. Each hit gradually landed harder and harder, and you needed to bury your face into his sheets to hide your cries lest his guests hear what was happening. With each slap, your body jumped in response, as if it was shocked to receive the hits your mind knew was coming. You knew you were getting redder with each slap, which would only egg Secondo on more when he saw it for himself.
He lifted your dress up, exposing your black panties fully and bunching the hem around your waist, and, as predicted, groaned at the sight of you. Secondo was an artist, and you were always his favourite canvas. He began to slap your bare cheeks, revelling in the deep red that was forming on your skin, relishing in the dampened moans coming from you. âThis is no punishment for you at all, is it?â He commented, punctuating his sentence with more slaps, now using both of his hands. âYou love it when your Papa hits you like this, donât you?â He slapped you much harder when you didnât answer. âDo not be rude, angioletta.â
âYes, Papa!â You responded, your voice coming out as a moan. âI love it!â
âI bet youâve soaked through these slutty little panties, havenât you?â He moved his left hand to the gusset of your panties, using his four fingers to rub against your cunt and his thumb rested against your asshole as an anchor.
Usually, heâd be met with your soft flesh and twitching hole, and would tease it over your panties, too, just to drive you wild. But today, his thumb met with something hard, and him putting pressure there caused you to moan out loud. âChe cazzo?â He asked, rubbing his thumb over the ridges. His hand, damp from the juices that had soaked your panties, came up to the waistband and roughly pulled them off you, hissing at the sight of him. Buried deep inside your twitching hole, was a butt plug, with an emerald resin gem sitting atop the metal base. âPuttana.â Though his words were degrading, the tone in which he said them was appreciative. He loved this little surprise, his cock growing harder and harder beneath his velvet slacks and begging to bury itself into one of your holes. âHow long have you been wearing this?â
âAll da-ay!â Your voice hiccuped when you felt his fingers hook around the base and jiggle it.
âNo wonder youâve been acting like a bitch today, amore. Youâve been in heat all day, hm? Did you want me to bend you over the table in the meeting room? Is that why youâve been provoking me all day?â
âY-yes, Papa. Want⌠wanted you to f-fuck me all day! Shit.â
âWanted your Papa to ruin your holes, hm?â
âYesss!â
He landed another hard spank on your right cheek with his right hand, much harder than the others. That, coupled with the way he was still playing with the plug, caused a moan to escape your lips, much louder than the others.
You heard him play with his belt, unbuckling it and then the buttons of his slacks, before you finally heard the zipper undo. âHands and knees, ass in the air.â He ordered. You climbed fully onto the mattress, feeling his hand come down on you more and more as you got situated for him. âGonna put this fuckhole to good use.â
You felt his girth rub against your folds, getting wetter with your slick with each movement. When he stopped and pulled away, you chanced a glance behind you and watched what he was doing, cunt clenching when you saw his head bowed, a thick glob of spit falling from his mouth and landing on his cock. He pumped himself a few times, spreading the saliva over his entire length before spitting again and repeating until he deemed himself wet enough. He plunged two of his fingers inside you, pumping only a few times to get you stretched out a little more before lining himself up with your hole.
You heard him chuckle darkly behind you. âIâm gonna enjoy this - but you wonât.â
That was all the warning he gave you before he pushed inside you, his considerable thickness stretching you out beyond compare. Usually heâd prepare you more, make you cum for him all over his tongue before he even considered fucking you with his cock. But not tonight. He didnât have the time nor the will to. This was meant to be a punishment, after all. Prepared or not, you adored the initial stretch every single time he slid into you. He always burned so deliciously, but sometimes there was a hint of pain that sent shivers down your spine and had your toes curling and fingers digging into whatever surface you were being fucked on.
Secondo took his time bottoming out, enjoying watching your body tense below him from the pain of it, and smiling at your cunt clenching down on him. âThere we go.â He said, gripping onto your ass cheeks as he bottomed out inside you, fingers rubbing over your raw flesh and causing a bigger sting to wash over you. He used your body as leverage to help him slam into you, setting a rough pace right away and knocking the wind out of you. He pulled gutteral moans out of you, deep, animalistic grunts that you had no control over as he fucked into you like a madman finally getting his fix.
The sound of your cunt taking him back in over and over again was so loud, you were sure his guests could hear you from the other room. It made Secondo want to bite you, sink his teeth into you like an apple, and feel your juices coat his mouth while he licked and sucked at your core. But he was pretending that this was a punishment for you - he couldnât consciously do something that would make you cum. Well, maybe a finger or so later on. For now, you were his to fuck around with, and he could hear and feel just how much you enjoyed it.
âYouâre so fucked up for liking this, amore.â He taunted, releasing grunts and growls of his own. âA pain slut for her Papa. Cazzo!â
He pushed your hips down, making you lie flat on your stomach, legs dangling off the edge and making you feel helpless below him. He put his entire weight on your body as he railed you into the mattress, rough, quick thrusts making your body bounce and your ass ricochet off his own hips.
âI donât like hurting you, angioletta.â A growl ripped from his throat. âBut you need to learn how to respect your Papa. Apologise for making me do this to you.â
âI- Iâm soâŚrry, Papa-ah!â
âBrava ragazza.â
Every time you made a sound, he landed another hit on your ass, making you redder and rawer. He loved it - but equally, so did you. Even on the days when he was taking his anger out on you, he wouldnât often be this rough. He wouldnât laugh at your cries, or push into you without taking his time with you first. Each thrust drove you more and more insane, degraded you more and more to the point where you felt like nothing but his own, personal fuck toy. His own whore who spread her legs so willingly, she became a desperate slut for her master.
He pulled at the plug again, laughing when you jumped. âSo much tighter with this thing in your ass.â
âPapa - it⌠itâs t-too much!â
âYou should have respected your Papa, then maybe heâd treat you delicately, hm?â
âPapa, please!â
âYou can take it, canât you?â
He was met with a loud moan.
âCanât you, puttanella?â
âY-yes!â
âOf course you can. Only sluts can take a cock this big.â
You forced your hand in between your body and the mattress and found your clit, rubbing at it while Secondo pounded into you. It was a struggle, and made Secondo laugh at you as you tried. He put more weight onto your body to make it more difficult for you, but you were able to get there eventually and furiously play with that bundle of nerves and work yourself to the edge.
âI love looking at you like this.â He said suddenly, watching your arm move as you rubbed faster and faster. You looked so desperate for him. So needy. âYou gonna cum for me?â He asked as he felt you getting tighter for him, the telltale signs making themselves present. âYou gonna cum all over Papaâs cock like a whore?â
âYes, Pa-pa!â
âMerda! Beg for it.â
âI n-need to cum s-oh bad Papa! Please! Pl-please let me cum on your f-fat cock.â
âOh, just like that, brava ragazza. Itâs okay, you can let go.â
Secondo could feel you getting tighter for him, working yourself closer and closer to an orgasm as he took you for his own pleasure, and for some of yours. He should pull out soon, he knew he should, but you were so tight for him in this position, so wet and pliant. He couldnât control himself. He couldnât bring himself to pull out and cum on your body. One particularly rough thrust had you finally tumbling over the edge, face contorting in beautiful agony as you came over him, creaming on his cock and screaming silently into the mattress. He didnât let up as you came, instead, he used your body tensing as an excuse to go just a little harder, making your orgasm more intense the longer it went on.
Your orgasm had Secondo teetering on the edge himself, staving off his own orgasm to ensure yours felt good. But once he was sure youâd finished, he began to pull out of you, finally working the courage to escape from your clutches. It wasnât until he felt your heels in his ass, where your legs had bent backwards to keep him there, he realised you wanted his cum inside you just as much as he did.
âPlease, Papa!â You begged quietly, lifting your head off the sheets and turning to look at him over your shoulder. âGive it to me. I want your cum inside me so fucking bad. Please!â
âYeah, amore? You want me to knock you up, is that it? So desperate for her Papaâs cum she wants him to breed her like a bitch. Been in heat all day, still acting like a fucking animal.â
âGive it to me, Papa! Cum deep inside me, please!â
âOkay, angioletta. Papa will give you what you want.â He pushed himself deeper, the head of his cock kissing your cervix with each thrust. âGonna fuck a baby into you, you ready?â
âYes! Yes, Papa, like that!â
âCazzo!â A string of expletives followed as you talked him through it, continuing to beg him for his seed while he pumped it deep inside you. He gripped hold of you, your skin and fat pinched tightly under his strong, masculine hands as he grasped onto you to keep him grounded while he reached nirvana. He bent forward more, his forehead rubbing against your shoulder blades and paints transferring onto the fabric of your dress, but you didnât care about that, enjoying the feeling of his erratic thrusts as he fucked his cum into your sensitive heat until he eventually rolled to a stop, laboured breaths ringing in your ear despite his mouth being so far away.
âSathanas, ___.â He groaned, keeping his full weight on your body, too exhausted to move. âMi farai morire.â You felt his lips kiss your shoulder blades, the dull feeling bringing warmth and comfort to your adrenaline-filled body.
âAre you okay?â You asked, equally as exhausted as him.
âNo.â He replied with a giggle, which you echoed. âI canât move anymore.â
âThatâs okay, we can wait here for as long as you need.â
âThe guests, amore mio.â
âFuck âem.â
He groaned. âI donât have the strength.â
You laughed at his joke.
Somewhere inside him, he found the strength to pull out of you, both of you groaning at the loss of contact. He rolled off you, and lay on his back, allowing his body to flop into any position it deemed comfortable. You didnât know how he did that, you could barely keep your eyes open.
He looked at you before rushing to the bathroom to get a damp cloth to clean you up, gently wiping at your sensitive centre to try and help you. âI didnât hurt you too much, did I?â
âNothing I didnât want, Papa.â
âAre you sure?â
âI promise.â
He placed the washcloth on the bedside table and pulled you into his arms, finally kissing your lips for the first time.
âHappy birthday, Papa.â You whispered.
Before he could respond, a knock at the door sounded gently, pulling your attention to it. âFratello?â Cardinal Terzoâs voice sounded from the other side. âNow that you two have finished fucking, we should let you know weâre all gonna go.â
You hid your face in embarrassment despite the fact the only person who could see you was Secondo, who was laughing at your reaction.
âSee you later, fratellino.â
âLater, sluts!â
There was a silence for a little while before Secondo heard the sound of your breathing mellowing out, realising then youâd fallen asleep before you both had chance to clean up properly. But that was okay, he could treat you like a queen in the morning. For now, you both needed rest.
Translations:
Buon pomeriggio - Good afternoon.
Ora - Now.
Questo è un cazzo di scherzo assoluto! - This is an absolute fucking joke!
PerchĂŠ? - Why?
Sei stupido, Cardinale Smith? - Are you stupid, Cardinal Smith?
Non mi sorprende, Cardinale. - That does not surprise me, Cardinal.
Angioletta - Little angel.
Capisce? - Do you understand?
Grazie, amore mio. - Thank you, my love.
Che cosâè questo? - Whatâs this?
Che cazzo? - What the fuck?
Puttana. - Whore.
Brava ragazza. - Good girl.
Mi farai morire. - Youâre gonna kill me.
Commissions are open! ⧠Memberships ⧠Tip Jar
90 notes
¡
View notes