#CHAPEL DONATIONS

[ghostlylicious]

plssss share and donate. scorpion stings are reaaaallyy painful i can't believe this is the situation they find themselves in. pls help this family to safety ‼️‼️‼️

[dazedasian]

My name is Ahmed Bakr, a Palestinian. I live in the Gaza Strip. My least wish is to save my wife and children (Neven, Khaled, Joan, Aida, and Musk) from certain death. I write these words and ask for your help. I do not know whether we will be able to survive. This is my last message to you as a human being and the story of my life and my family since the beginning of the war. My son (Khaled) is his age. (8) years old and suffers from enlarged liver diseases, infections, and anemia from contaminated food and water. We are unable to treat him, buy medicine for him, hold a baby no more than two months old, and I am unable to provide her with milk, pampers, or even supplies for small children. My children need food and treatment. We are deprived of the food we love. Our mental health is deteriorating and very destructive, and we need hygiene supplies in the tents. I was displaced from my home from the north to the south, to Khan Yunis, then to Rafah, and then to Nuseirat. I was injured by an occupation sniper while searching for a living for my children. I endured carrying water, searching for wood to light the fire, and bringing food for my children because there was no gas for long distances. Long, all day long, surrounded by devastation, bloody missiles and shattering shrapnel. We endured constant fear day and night for a whole year without any peace or comfort. I do not know where to take my children. Our lives are very painful and difficult, and every time we miraculously escape death, I want to help everyone who can help us, those with compassionate hearts. We live in the heat of tents and under the blazing sun. My house was completely demolished after years of effort and fatigue and building our house. Then, one night and one day, everything disappeared and my children’s room was completely burned and demolished. Even our car was not spared from the bombing, as we had all the wonderful means and tools. For the sake of a decent life, we started roasting our food over the fire despite the fatigue and heat. We are still standing despite the bombing, hunger, and severe shortages. We need your help. At this Save My Children event, we invite you to share our story with your friends and families with clarity and support. Your sensible words and prayers provide strength to endure these difficult circumstances... (Your donation) can make enough difference in our lives. We depend on your support and your standing by our side through this traditional ordeal, boxing, to restore hope and safety to Hayat and her family. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for considering my application. Your support and donation are very important to me and my family

Show your support for this GoFundMehttps://gofund.me/1d3a37c4

Hi, there. Do you have more photos of the situation that you and your family. I know it may be uncomfortable for you to post sensitive photos online, but since

[heritagebrowser]

Rescue this 17th century chapel, dedicated to Mary, in the complex of Chateau de Colombe in Saint- Baudel, France.

[xmo-rmon]

“Inseminary”

or “Lockpick to the Priesthood” or “Come Unto Me” or “Pearl Necklace of Great Price” or “Faith is Like a Little Seed”

Authentic stolen holy text, Near Clear silicone, gold pigment.

I went to the mormon church’s website, looked up their views on homosexuality, noted the scriptures they referenced, ripped them by hand out of the bible and book of mormon I stole from their chapel, and then mixed them into a silicone dildo of my own design like confetti. A dildo which will of course be used for homosexual purposes (with non-lubricated condoms and water based lube, for safety).

I’ve wanted to try dildo making for literally over a decade. I don’t have any fancy equipment like a 3D printer or a vacuum chamber, I made the sculpt by hand, and I fucked up a lot along the way, but all that being said I’m proud of what I was able to accomplish and I learned a lot. I put in more gold than I meant to, but honestly, it was meant to represent scripture’s gilded edges, and as it turned out, it looks really beautiful or quite filthy depending on the lighting, which feels entirely appropriate for scripture.

It was hard to read all of those verses. But as I tore them up I bathed them in the intention to take words that were meant to inflict queer pain wherever they go, and say “Actually, I pull those words out when I want some queer pleasure.” Build joy where they want you to have it the least.

Read about/donate to the Timpanogos tribe, for whom brigham young sent out an “extermination order”

LandBack

[megaghananewsaid-blog]

The Maker's House Chapel Donates Ghc 150,000 To Kidney Patients

The Korle Bu Teaching Hospital and the 37 Military Hospital, both in Accra, have each received donations from The Maker’s House Chapel International (TMHCI) totaling Gh150,000. Subscribe to our newsletter! The cheques were presented on Tuesday, October 10, 2023, at the facilities’ respective locations. This will help the hospitals care for patients receiving treatment for renal ailments. On…

[allfearstofallto]

Devout

Yandere! Childe x Fem,Nun! Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

TW: 18+ MDNI, Noncon, lots and lots of mentioning of religion, reader is a virgin, yandere, obsession, unprotected sex, finishing inside

Heavenly. What an on the nose way to describe you. Dressed head to toe in loose fitting, religious garb, your hair covered. All he could see was the skin of your hands and that heavenly face.

Such a sweet, welcoming smile and gentle voice was befitting of a nun. He could only imagine how many men you'd lured into your trap of giving donations with those assets of yours. Kindly praising them for whatever they could give like an owner to a dog. And he was another willing victim.

Your eyes went wide when he dropped the large bag of mora into your little basket. Your grip wavered a bit as the heavy coins weighed your little arms down, and all he did was smirk. He'd made himself known to you.

“What a generous donation!” You exclaimed. That pretty smile of yours, the way your eyes lit up. He resisted the urge to lick his lips while thinking about what he could do with that mouth, a lewd gesture to be doing right in front of a nun, “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

He felt himself cock an eyebrow at your words. Pleasure? He supposed he gave pleasure to receive it. He eyed you up and down, he could see so little of you. The skirt down to your ankles left plenty to the imagination and imagine he did, “I suppose I'm trying to be new to the faith.”

A little white lie, but your smile growing wider made it worth it. If all nuns were as pretty and tempting as you were, he'd join the commune immediately.

“Lord Barbatos accepts all,” You said, holding the basket back out to him and implying that you wanted him to take his money back, “Don't give because you're new to worship. All that is given is accepted, but we will still take you with open arms.”

“I want to give you this much,” he said, a firm hand pushing the basket back, “and I want to give you so much more.”

Going to the city of freedom, a city known for its drinking and partying, just for the cathedral was quite the story amongst his subordinates. But Childe didn't care. The things he wanted to do with you weren't holy, but that was much better than a glass of wine and a song. If they knew the treat that stayed praying in the church day and night, they too would take to the faith.

Walking into the chapel, the first thing he was greeted with was the sight of you on your knees, praying to the statue of that absentee god. Filling that pretty mouth of yours felt like a better use of this time, you were already on your down there after all. But he decided against it. Not yet at least. Not when you were smiling at him so sweetly, motioning him closer to pray next to you.

Childe mentally asked the Tsaritsa for forgiveness, but still kneeled next to you. The Tsaritsa was a forgiving woman, he hoped that she would understand why he was praying to a false God. The way you were sitting on your knees, your round behind pressed against the heels of your feet, it made the fabric of your skirt press against your body. The curve of your ass, it was the first time he's seen it and he sucked air in through his teeth. He truly was being tempted, wasn't he?

“It's such an honor to see you, Ajax. Wasn't it?” Even the way you tilted your head in confusion was adorable. Typically he'd be upset if someone had forgotten his name, he didn't feel forgettable, but he was going to make you remember. Those plump lips of your would be calling his name over and over again, until it would be all you could say.

“Yes, it's Ajax,” he dropped the clasps of his hands and stood again, holding out an arm for you as well, “I was in the area again and decided to stop by for a prayer.”

A look of hesitance danced across that pretty face of yours as you debated whether or not to take his hand, before deciding against it. Instead, you chose to stand by yourself, a move that made him long for you even more. So he couldn't even feel the softness of your skin? Yet another ache in his groin, you were honestly trying to get him, weren't you?

“Forgive my rudeness, but we're discouraged from touching those of the opposite sex. Especially those who haven't taken vows, better to not tempt provocation,”

Vows? He'd assumed as much, but hearing you say it his pants grow even tighter. Temptation was you. You were such a pure soul, but you were sin. That body under all those clothes, he knew that it was erotic. He knew you felt lustful thoughts, that even you had ideas and thoughts that went against your virtue.

“I understand,” he spoke in a strained whisper, gripping the legs of his pants tight, “Do you think we can go somewhere private? I have a few confessions I need to make.”

You perked up once again, large eyes filled with enthusiasm, “Our father is holding a confessional if you'd like-”

“No,” he cut you off quickly, “I want to talk to you alone, do you think that's a possibility?”

There was a look of aversion in your eyes, clearly you were thinking about it. You looked like you wanted to tell him no, but your good natured heart and kind ways were fighting against what was right and what you felt like you needed to do as a nun.

“I'm…I'm not meant to take confessions, brother Ajax,” you said sweetly.

He stepped a bit closer to you, trying not to intimidate you, but also trying to press the importance. His length was hardening even more, his pants growing tighter. If you noticed, you didn't say anything, but of course, how would you?

“Please, it'll just be for a moment,”

Fearful eyes looked around the church before you motioned for him to follow you. Going against your God while in his home, you felt like you were committing a crime. But you couldn't leave a person in need behind. You're sure Barbatos would find it in his heart to forgive you.

“Please, make yourself at home here, dear brother,” you said while leading him through the door.

It was a simple room. An altar at the other end of the room, with a few candles and offerings and dim lighting. The room was scented with incense, a sweet smell that reminded him of the dandelion wine that Mondstadt was known for.

You lowered yourself onto your knees and motioned for Childe to follow you, “Please, kneel next to me, confess whatever you feel necessary,”

He sat down next to you, close enough to where his shoulder brushed against you. You flinched from this contact, but didn't say anything. A thought crossed your mind, so much space in the room and he chose to be right against you.

“Forgive me, I have sinned,” he said, but he never closed his eyes, never clasped his hands together, never lowered his head.

“Confess to me your woes,”

He sucked air in through his teeth, trying not to jump on you. Not yet. Not while you were looking at him so hopefully. So much trust. It only made him want you more.

“I've been having sinful thoughts,” he began, his eyes not leaving you, “Sinful to the point of being debilitating. They wreck my mind constantly.”

“Are these thoughts of harming others?” You asked, this didn't seem like the question of a clergy, but rather one of genuine curiosity.

He didn't look away from you, while his hand slithered down and he began palming his length through his pants, “They used to be. But now they're more deviant in nature.”

“Br-brother Ajax, such actions are- they are unbefitting for the church,” you said quickly, turning your head away to not see him as he defiled sacred ground with his actions.

“I need you, sister,” he leaned closer to you, whispering his words right into the shell of your ear. You squirmed at the feeling of his breath, such a cute reaction it was, and the yelp you let out when his hand gripped your ankle was even cuter. He tugged at your leg, pushing your back against the ground and leaning over you.

He'd seen fear like this before. Many times before. When he plunged a weapon into someone's chest, watching the life fade from their eyes, it was similar to the one you were making now. The tears, the muttered begging, even the way your lips quivered, it was all the same. So why now did it make his cock even harder in the confines of his pants?

Where would he even begin with you? Quite honestly, he didn't even know how to take your garb off. Instead, he took to ripping it, right at the neck. Pulling it apart straight down the middle until every inch of your torso became visible to him. Your breasts were covered in a basic bra. Normally he was the type to prefer more intricate lingerie to entice his urges, yet something about the simplicity of your undergarments made him hiss air in through his teeth. It was like you knew for certain that nothing was happening, yet he still was forcing you to show him.

“Stop! You can't do this!” You cried, trying to cover yourself in what scraps of your dress you could find.

He was gentle as he touched you this time, fingertips stroking your cheek, but his words following were harsh and deathly serious, “Don't fight me, I wouldn't want to hurt you,”

“Heavenly father, I ask that you forgive me…” you began to mutter to yourself in prayer. Laying there, hands clasped and teary eyes shut as you felt him trace up and down your thigh with his tongue. The feeling of his saliva, going up to your stomach, one of his hands cupping your breast before ripping the fabric of your bra away, it made you sick to your stomach. Your pebbled nipples hitting the cold air were quickly sucked into his mouth, a pleasure never experienced before washing over your body. You shuddered, much to his approval.

He wanted to go slower. He wanted to tease you for hours before taking you. He wanted to make you cum over and over, proudly showing how lewd you truly were to your false God, but even he has grown impatient. Trying to win you the right way just wasn't working and he needed to feel you, as deeply as possible, the girl he'd fantasized about night after night.

The way your eyes widened when he dropped his pants was cute. When you tried to look away from his hard cock that was dripping precum onto your cunt, still begging with those sweet lips, it was even cuter. But the way you went silent, the way the world seemed to stop from you the second you felt the head of his cock against your opening, that was the cutest. He loved the look in your eye. The look of visceral fear. It was a look of knowing. Knowing that after he was finished with you, you'd have nowhere to go, but to him.

You only began truly fighting him off when he began pushing the head of his cock into your warmth. So tight and soft, no matter how hard you hit him, you couldn't make him leave your insides. When he bottomed out inside you, feeling your walls clench around every inch of his cock, he hissed. Face to face with you now, nestled deep within you, he kissed your wet cheeks. Childe wasn't one for love making, but he couldn't help but to be tender with you. His thrusts were slow, but deep, making sure you tasted all of him.

“Hush, little angel,” he cooed softly to you, while wiping away more of your tears. Your little sobs were agonizing to his heart, yet his cock only twitched harder, “It'll be over soon.”

And you nodded. Such a sweet thing. You nodded and let yourself go to him. He didn't take this as a sign to be rougher though. No. He couldn't. Not to you. He continued his same pace, softly humming to you and shushing you when you got too loud. He wanted to pound your insides, to fuck you brutally, but that would be for later.

Little sobs left your lips as your nails dug into the carpeted floor beneath you. He was still going slow. Thrusting in and out skillfully, his hand tenderly gripping your face and making you look him in the eye, any time you tried to look away, he'd just force your head back.

“I'm cumming soon, okay?” He muttered against your lips, kissing you gently afterwards.

With your mouth engulfed in his, you couldn't beg him to please not finish inside you. Instead, your body flailed beneath him, trying to get him off as you felt the thrust of his hips speed up and become more greedy. You felt him grip you tighter, you felt his moans grow louder against your lips. And all you could do is sit in horror as you felt his hips falter, his pace slow down, and his cock twitch even more as it pumped hot cum deep inside your.

Childe pulled away from the sloppy kiss, your lips covered in saliva and he smiled. You'd never seen such evilness until you looked into his eyes, proudly looking down at your cunt where the cum was seeping out. I'm your mind, you were saying another prayer, but you weren't sure if anyone was listening.

“Guess I have to marry you now,” he chuckled with a playful pat against your thigh. But despite the smile on his face you knew he wasn't joking.

[yandere-daydreams]

Hear me out hear me out on this concept idea

Southern gothic small town pastor Geto AU

tw - non/con, manipulation, unbalanced power dynamics, financial abuse via organized religion, and implied kidnapping.

wait that would actually be so hot of him actually.

i don't know what is about geto but he just,,, radiates scummy religious figure energy to such an atrocious degree. like, couldn't you just imagine him moving from small town to small town, posing as a country-values pastor to scam his ever-growing congregation out of their life's savings and retirement funds before smuggling himself away and moving on to fresher meat? if he works quickly, the whole operation takes a little less than six months, and he's got such a charming smile and such a soothing voice - no one's ever so much as thought twice about trusting him, not really, not unless they wanted to be the next town outcast.

well, no one aside from you, of course.

it's cute - just how suspicious you are of the man who has your chronically truant parents sitting in the front row of his chapel twenty minutes early. you'll tell anyone who's got the time to listen that you don't like his hollow expressions, that you don't find his sermon-topics appropriate, that you don't trust how quickly he showed up after your last pastor suddenly went missing. no one listens to you, of course. you burnt that bridge when you decided to move away to some big, new-age city and attend some expensive, self-aggrandizing university. like him, you'll only be in town for a few months, just until the start of your next semester, but unlike him, you actually care about what's going to happen to your neighbors after you leave. the fact that you stopped going to church entirely after he took over doesn't help. in a town like this, you might as well be signing the warrant for your own social exile.

you make an effort to keep your distance, but he just can't seem to pay you the same courtesy. in a town like yours, it's can be hard not to run into familiar faces, especially when he seems to stop in at the general store where you picked up a summer job every other day, when he mentions to your mother that they could really use an extra pair of hands at the church's monthly bake sale or tells your father that he might want to bring a helper the next time he comes to fix up a few things around the sanctuary. you're always so flustered around him, always so brooding - like you think someone's going to believe you just because you cross your arms and pout. he savors any chance he gets to touch you - whether it's his hand ghosting over the small of your back as he moves past you in a narrow hall or your body pressing into his after he forgoes your offered handshake in favor of a nice, tight, neighborly hug.

and, when you come to him, he thinks he might finally know why people try so hard to get into heaven. it goes without saying that you're irate, shouting at him from the steps of his parsonage as you demand he return the tens of thousands of dollars that your mother so generously donated early that day, but it's not hard to convince you to come inside, to get a glass of wine into your hand under the pretense that, if you really drove all this way just to yell at him, it's the least you deserve. things devolve from there - your glass looks a little empty, why doesn't he top you off while you tell him what a terrible person he is? you've already finished that bottle, but he's got a gorgeous vintage red, and you're just starting to slur - he's sure it'll be fine. and, oh, well, you're far too drunk to drive yourself home, but don't worry, his bed's big enough to share. and oh, look at that, don't you feel lucky to wake up naked and sore in an unfamiliar bed, the handsome young pastor's cock still buried inside of you? he's sure your parents will be elated when you two tell them about your new engagement (because, of course, you can't just sleep with your local pastor and expect to come out of it without a ring on your finger, can you?), even if you seem a little upset right now.

it's only as he watches you sob into his chest, his arms wrapped around your waist and his cum still dripping out of you, that he decides he might be able to stay in this particular small town for a few more months. just long enough to find a way to take you with him, when he leaves.

[yunnimilk]

could u do a fyodor with sub, gn reader with dumbification, overstim, biting and choking too with a red and white theme? (( something non canon, like him being a secret vampire priest or something of the like and reader is a devoted worshipper of his Church mayhaps..)) .. drabble, or full fic for me is fine eitherway!!

「 ✦ AMAB! DOMTOP! Fyodor Dostoevsky x AMAB! GN! SUBBOT! Reader

{ sorry it was a drabble, I started my second year of college so I had a lot of work to do }

DRABBLE !!

NSFW UNDER THE CUT!

ׂ 𓈒 🍷 ／ ⋆ ۪ | Imagine being a membef at a church, you've decided to devote your life to god. Collecting donations and volunteering around the chapel isn’t anything new. Sometimes it was boring, but, this was the price to pay if you wanted to show your dedication to the lord , (^ε^)♪

ׂ 𓈒 🍷 ／ ⋆ ۪ | The head pastor introduces a devilishly handsome man to you, asking you to tour him around the church buldings. The stranger had fairly pale skin with reflective dark hair that contrasted with it. Deep purple eyes that suck you in, you couldn't help but blush, which was embarrassingly evident on your face ! ◟꒰◍´Д‵◍꒱◞

ׂ 𓈒 🍷 ／ ⋆ ۪ | His soft smiles take your breath away, your heart being pulled out of your chest. You take every opportunity to lovingly stare at his face, and you also got caught several times, but it seemed like he enjoyed your company !

ﾍ(≧▽≦ﾍ) ♪

ׂ 𓈒 🍷 ／ ⋆ ۪ | he seemed off though, sometimes his skin would turn grayer and he would avoid mirrors. It's such a coincidence, vampires aren't real, you're being silly !

('A｀*)

ׂ 𓈒 🍷 ／ ⋆ ۪ | But,,, one day, you found the man kneeling over, trying to hold his composure. Fyodor was sweating profusely as his fangs sharpened when you got closer to him, letting out a meekly, “f.. father ?”. He stayed still for a moment, his back was turned so you couldn’t see his expression . ( •́ㅿ•̀ )

ׂ 𓈒 🍷 ／ ⋆ ۪ | Suddenly, he lunges at you! You barely had time to react, instead, you felt a sharp pain in your neck and a wet sensation going down your collarbone. Your eyes found Fyodor's head, him draining all the fluid out your neck. It was really painful at first, then it turned so electrifying, sending shivers righr down your cock . (•ө•)♡

ׂ 𓈒 🍷 ／ ⋆ ۪ | Imagine Fyodor licking your neck and taking off your clothes, his moist tongue on your skin and you felt yourself getting harder and harder. Your soft moans encourage him to continue . ( ¯ ρ¯ )

ׂ 𓈒 🍷 ／ ⋆ ۪ | Some time later and your head is buried in your pillows while Fyodor was plunging into you, sloppy and firm. Grinding inside your guts to make sure your prostate gets bullied by his cock, your body was so sore, from the bites and especially from Fyodor's relentless thrusts . o(〃＾▽＾〃)o

ׂ 𓈒 🍷 ／ ⋆ ۪ | Your mind was far gone, everything was getting fuzzy and your cheeks were soaked from your tears, your tight, puffy hole making a squelching sound everytime he dug his cock into you. Your body stained from your cum and your blood, what a pretty painting ! ୧(-᷅ ہ-᷄)୨

ׂ 𓈒 🍷 ／ ⋆ ۪ | He reaches down your neck as you let out a melodious whimper. Fyodor loves your pretty sounds, to him, it's the same as the church choir, so he's going to make sure you sing for him some more ! •﹏•

ׂ 𓈒 🍷 ／ ⋆ ۪ | Your cock was so tired just trying to pump out semen, it was throbbing so badly. You begged Fyodor to have mercy on you, "P...plEASE! I- I don't.. I CAN'T.. c-c...come anymore! ~", he tugged your hair back, so you could look at him, "then release yourself for me, one last time, my dear", he went quicker to feel your walls tightening up ! ⚆_⚆

ׂ 𓈒 🍷 ／ ⋆ ۪ | Imagine your eyes rolling back as you felt euphoria coursing through your body as you stiffen up. Your hole squeezing Fyodor's dick, him grunting as his cum intrudes inside your guts ,

"I changed my mind, actually, let's go for another hour hm?"

[unboundprompts]

Sarcastic aloof x annoying hotheaded relationships

And they would be even better if not enemies to lovers. ( ꈍᴗꈍ)

Sarcastic Aloof x Annoying Hothead Prompts

-> feel free to edit and adjust pronouns as you see fit.

"I love you!" He grinned, bumping their shoulder with his. They rolled their eyes, bumping back with a little more force. "Knock it off."

She wanted to wring his neck out with her bare hands. Did he not see that she was trying to be serious? "I'm trying to tell you that I love you," she said, exasperated. He laughed as she threw her head back in frustration. "Well, you're doing a piss-poor job at it," he told her, laughter still heavy in his voice. "Looking at me like you want to murder me, like come on."

"Come to bed. I'm tired," they said, tapping the pillow next to them. "Oh, you're tired?" She put on an exaggerated pout. "I'm sorry, that must be so hard for you." They frowned at her from their spot on the bed. "I take it back. When I said I was tired, what I meant was, I'm tired of you being a sarcastic little shit." She kissed them. "I'm your sarcastic little shit."

"I hate you," she teased. "You love me," he responded, closing the gap between them.

"You used to hate me," They breathed in between kisses. "And now look at you. Can't take your eyes off me." "I'm just taking in how ridiculous you look," he told them, kissing them again. "You're blushing like a sinner in chapel."

If you like what I do and want to support me, please consider donating! I also offer editing services and other writing advice on my Ko-fi!

[hatesaltrat]

Folks, I’d like to tell you about this amazing place I got to spend some time at last weekend called Warriors2US. I am just flattered to no end that I was invited to be there and I can’t wait to go back. It is privately funded, no tax money or grants of any kind are used. If you can, please donate to them.

There is an incredible lodge that sleeps up to 18. A well stocked kitchen has everything you need to cook a fine meal with whatever groceries you bring and there’s no lack of spices and condiments if you forgot a little something. There is a total of 4 bedrooms, 1 of which is completely ADA compliant and the other 3 are upstairs with bunk beds.

From the seats on the back deck you can see the fire pit and shooting range beyond. There’s plenty of firewood to fuel a focal point while sipping libations and telling tales. It sits on 200 acres of private forest with hunting, fishing, and hiking just waiting for all Military personnel, Veterans, and/or First Responders. There is no cost to the guests.

There’s a fine grill downstairs in the garage just waiting to be used. Near the grill is a freezer full of meat that has been donated to the cause. There are some interesting games available for use too.

With more donations they are planning to build another structure so they can relocate the screen print shop from the small shed to its own space near some open office space where there will be classes for everything from CHL’s to resume building, and advisory seminars for Veterans trying to adjust to civilian life and job seeking skills. I am going to be trying to do some fund raising for them while seeking out some volunteer VA advocates. There’s a few of us planning a trip or 2 next year to donate some time helping to build a chapel in the woods and a few other various projects they need help with. We will eventually be building a wood shop complete with a mini-mill. I haven’t felt this passionately about a cause in a long time. I will be shamelessly plugging this retreat often and doing what I can to contribute to them.

Please check out the link and if you’re a Vet who wants to spend some time with family or a group of Warriors reach out to them directly to schedule some time out there.

And as always-

REMEMBER EVERYONE DEPLOYED

🇺🇸

[ghostlylicious]

pls donate and share

[girlactionfigure]

Another video from yesterday's unique situation at the University of North Carolina in Chapel Hill (the one that produced the "picture of the year" 👆 according to many Americans).

Patriotic American students protect the US flag and keep it from touching the ground while the anti-Israeli students curse them, throw bottles at them and splash water at them.

The Israeli flag is also part of the situation.

There are reports on social media that hundreds of thousands of dollars have been donated by Americans to the group that defended the flag.

It inspires great pride in the American public.

Thanks to follower Y for the video.

[her-satanic-wiles]

Kinktober Day 19 - Filming

Papa Terzo x Reader

The Satanic Church hired a new PR manager to keep the Church afloat during these online times. To establish yourself, and to bring in new people, you suggest a 24 hour charity stream where the Ghouls and Papa complete challenges, play games, and create donation incentives. If they raise $1 million, Papa Terzo joked that he’d start an Only Fans. They didn’t expect to smash that goal so quickly. So who should he fuck online first than the person who suggested this whole ordeal in the first place?

Masterlist ⛧ Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

Words: 10k.

Reading Time: 42 min.

Warnings: clothed man/naked woman, creampie, cunnilingus, filming (with consent), mentions of orgies, PIV sex, this is absolutely 100% a crack!fic, vaginal sex, unprotected sex

Taglist: @akayuki56 @alien-the-ghost @amazing-bobinsky @angellayercake @anonymous-appreciation @babydestinyinfluencer @bitchywitchygardener @blossomsea @call-me-little-sunshine84 @copiaspet622 @copiasslut @cosmixxdust @da-rulah @dolceterzo @dopey-fandom-girl @faithisyours @ghoulishxdelights @hauntedharmonic-ghoulishhaunter @high-above-the-city @howlingco @inkstainedrat @kaijukimchi @kenken-the-shoggoth @ledger-kaos @magopi @megachaoticstupid @meliza1001 @miss-leto @mommy-dust @neganwifey25-blog @piaart @saintbowie @shycardinale @sister-of-sin-claudia @sisterof-sin @sodoswitchimage @the-did-i-ask @xiyingly @zombiesnips-blog

🔞 MDNI 🔞

You didn’t think they’d actually go for it, or that they’d believe it was a good idea. When you stood in the meeting room in front of Sister Imperator, Papa Emeritus III and the other upper clergy members and suggested a 24 hour live stream, you thought their boomer asses would sneer at the thought and turn the idea down. But one minute you were discussing activities to do during the stream, the next they were all nodding and looking at you incredibly impressed.

You’d only been here three months… this was your first major job as a PR manager. You knew what you were doing in theory but the execution could be messy as hell. Yet, there they all were, patting you on the back and taking notes.

Taking notes!

This was either going to make you, or break you - and you could only believe that the latter would come to pass.

Planning took place immediately, people turning Papa Terzo’s office into a streaming zone for that extra peace and quiet, but also to force him to be involved. He just thought he could leave the majority of the hours to his ghouls to entertain the world, but you knew that having him there, the head of the Ministry and the face of the Ghost Project, would make the money roll in. And they needed the money.

The Vatican had wormed their little Catholic tendrils into the Italian government and refused funding for the Ministry on account of mortal enemyship. And, with bribes in hand, the government thanked the Catholic church for “bringing their attention” to “such an evil in the country”, and tried to denounce Satanism as a genuine religion. This was, of course, a few decades ago now, but since then the Ministry never recovered and relied heavily on donations given from Lord Lucifer’s followers around the world - who gave and did so gladly. This live stream and the funds that were generated from it, would fund a huge restoration project and would help bring the facilities up to scratch. There were parts of the Ministry that were crumbling into disrepair, and you had the builders for it in house, but not the materials. It would be the biggest restoration project in the Ministry’s history… and you’d be the one to gather all that money.

No pressure.

The rewards were to be as follows:

€10,000 - First Steps

Reward: Ghouls play a game of “Never Have I Ever” live.

Bonus: Papa Terzo takes a shot of absinthe every time he loses (as suggested by Papa Secondo.)

€50,000 - Peek Behind the Curtain

Reward: A live virtual tour of the restricted parts of the Ministry, including the infamous Chapel of Shadows.

Bonus: Papa Terzo takes a shot of absinthe every time he falls over (as suggested by Papa Primo.)

€100,000 - Ghost Unplugged

Reward: An exclusive acoustic performance of “Cirice” by Papa Terzo and Ifrit.

Bonus: All donors up to this point get access to a downloadable recording of the session.

€250,000 - Makeover Madness

Reward: The audience votes on a ghoul who gets a full drag makeover by Alpha and Omega, live on stream.

€500,000 - Ritual Tease

Reward: A special candlelit ritual performance is conducted by Papa Terzo and the Ghouls.

Bonus: All viewers get early access to a limited-edition Ministry-themed candle collection.

€750,000 - Mystery Caller

Reward: Papa Terzo and the ghouls call random fans live and serenade them.

Bonus: The first person they call will receive signed memorabilia from the band’s archive.

€1,000,000 - Pomona Invitations Unlocked

Reward: Five random donors will receive a VIP invitation to the Ministry’s exclusive Pomona Festival, including an overnight stay in the Ministry’s guest quarters.

Bonus: All donors who contributed over €100 will be entered into a raffle for a personalised blessing from Papa Terzo during the ceremony.

€1,200,000 - Ghouls’ Playground

Reward: The Ghouls will perform a “Ghoul Games” Olympics, complete with ridiculous challenges and hilarious forfeits (e.g., eating the hottest pepper, trying to summon spirits while blindfolded, etc.).

€1,300,000 - One Night Only Concert Announcement

Reward: Terzo announces a one-night-only concert exclusively for the stream’s viewers, with tickets going on sale before the stream ends.

€1,400,000 - The Grand Restoration

Reward: Papa Terzo and the Ghouls reveal the blueprints and restoration plans for the Ministry, with construction to be documented and shared with all donors.

Bonus: Everyone who contributed will have their names included on a commemorative plaque placed inside the restored wing of the Ministry.

The Ministry knew that everyone’s ultimate goal was to be invited to the Festival of Pomona, knowing exactly what went down during the Ministry’s celebrations. The festival may or may not have included eating ripe fruits off of consenting naked bodies, drinking wine and fucking each other stupid (sometimes with the fruits) in the Basilica di Lilith, where the majority of festivities would take place at the Ministry.

Every holiday, a video would emerge on the Hub from the same group of wine ghouls who would all verbally consent to sharing their videos online before taking part in a small orgy in the wine cellars. Honestly, that did more for the Ministry’s applications than anything else, which is why the Papas allowed it to continue. Of course, Papa Terzo relished in the chaos, and would even hold screenings of the videos a few days later, which would then trigger another orgy.

On the days leading up to the livestream you found yourself buried in preparations, hands deep in spreadsheets, schedules, and legal disclaimers (because, unfortunately, someone had to pretend to be responsible). The Ministry was buzzing with activity as the wine ghouls polished off their favourite barrels, giggling over their plans for this year’s video. Every time you passed them in the halls, their smug little grins made it clear they knew exactly what kind of mayhem they’d cause this time around.

And, of course, Terzo was no help. His contribution to the stream planning was strolling into meetings late, lounging in chairs like a cat who knew he was untouchable, and occasionally chiming in with suggestions like, “What if we did a segment where I read fan fiction about myself?”

You thought he was joking. He wasn’t.

The ghouls thought it was hilarious and, before you could veto it, had already spread the idea like wildfire through the Ministry. The next morning, a surprisingly professional-looking flyer had been tacked to your office door:

“Papa Terzo Reads Smut, LIVE: Midnight Madness. BYOB (Bring Your Own Bible).”

You crumpled it up, threw it in the bin, and prayed to whatever deity would listen that it would quietly die off. It didn’t.

By the time the final schedule was drafted, not only was the reading segment officially included, but it was slotted right after the wine ghouls’ “Live from the Cellars” broadcast from last Lupercalia—just late enough in the night that most of the viewers would already be a little too deep into the wine themselves to complain about it.

And that wasn’t even the half of it.

On the days leading up to the livestream, every inch of the Ministry was being scrubbed, polished, and sensually rearranged to fit both the theme of the stream and the aesthetic of the Pomona Festival. The Basilica di Lilith—usually a solemn, shadowed space reserved for the highest rituals—was now being transformed into a bacchanalian paradise. Silk drapes hung from the rafters, embroidered cushions littered the floor, and massive fruit platters were set up along low tables, each piece of produce almost obscenely ripe and glistening.

And the bodies… oh, the bodies.

Ghouls, clergy, and a few familiar outside guests all volunteered to participate in the festival as living platters, lying still beneath the fruits, wine drizzling from lips to thighs as they practiced holding seductive poses in the chapel’s soft candlelight. You’d walked in on a practice session once, seen the trainee ghoul, Cirrus, with her legs spread and an apple resting precariously between them, and immediately backed out before you could make eye contact with anyone. They were committed, that much was certain.

Every time you tried to reign things in, Papa Terzo was already two steps ahead, unravelling your sense of control faster than you could stitch it back together.

“Relax, tesoro,” he’d purr with that infuriating grin, “if things get too wild, we’ll just call it ‘performance art.’ The Vatican loves that stuff.”

You tried to tell yourself it would all come together in the end. Somehow.

But the truth was, it was all spiralling out of your hands, and you were beginning to understand just how the Ministry ran: beautifully chaotic, gleefully immoral, and completely unsupervised.

The livestream kicked off at 10 AM sharp, cameras switching on to capture a shot of Terzo, lounging like a king on one of the deep leather armchairs in his office. His ghouls crowded around him on plush rugs and sofas, bottles of wine and spirits scattered among them. The viewers flooded in—thousands of curious souls watching live from around the world, eager to witness just how far the Ministry would push things. And the Ministry, predictably, wasted no time.

The first stretch of the stream was “Never Have I Ever,” a brilliant icebreaker orchestrated by Terzo, mostly so he could make a mess of his ghouls and drink far more than any of them. The stream chat was exploding—“👀” emojis and donations flying in at an alarming rate. Terzo swirled his wine lazily, the corners of his lips curling as he surveyed his crew.

“Let’s begin, no? Something easy… a little warm-up, sì?” Terzo purred, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. “Alpha, you start.”

The hulking fire ghoul—Alpha—grinned around the rim of his whiskey glass. “Fine. Never have I ever…” He paused for dramatic effect, his forked tongue flicking between sharp teeth. “Slept with someone in this room.”

A murmur of anticipation rippled through the chat, and almost immediately, Terzo raised his glass with a devilish grin, along with Ifrit and Mist. The others exchanged knowing looks before following suit, with Aether muttering, “Well, that escalated quickly.”

Ember chuckled, leaning into Ifrit. “I think it’s safe to say we’re all guilty on that one.” He raised his glass, and Ifrit gave him a playful nip on the ear as he took her sip.

Mountain, quiet as ever, drank with a casual nonchalance, his enormous form relaxed despite the debauchery in the room. The chat was frothing at this point—donation notifications pinging nonstop.

“€50,000 milestone reached!” the notification flashed across the screen, followed by a flood of comments:

“Omg I KNEW IT”

“These ghouls are feral”

“Terzo already drunk and it’s only 10:30 AM lmfao”

Omega, perched cross-legged on the rug, hummed thoughtfully. “Never have I ever… worn someone else’s clothes during sex.”

Terzo nearly choked on his drink, laughing as he took a sip. Earth grinned and drank as well, along with Air, who added, “It’s called resourcefulness.”

“Resourcefulness?” Aether snorted, downing his wine. “It’s called kinks, my dude.”

Ifrit, already a little tipsy, leaned back and drawled, “What, you’ve never seen Terzo in someone else’s robes? Guy looks like sin incarnate.”

“Shut up,” Terzo smirked, tipping his glass in salute, completely unbothered by the growing chaos. “I wear them better than any of you.”

The conversation spiraled quickly as the questions became increasingly personal—partly to outdo one another, partly because no one in the room could resist poking at old memories.

Mist, looking deceptively innocent, said next: “Never have I ever faked an orgasm.”

The room erupted in laughter. Aether coughed into his wine, Air raised both hands in mock surrender, and Terzo gave an exaggerated scoff before drinking. “Che bastardo,” he muttered, making everyone cackle harder.

Mountain, as usual, simply shrugged, sipping without comment.

The viewers were losing their minds, donations piling up by the second as the room dissolved into drunken, irreverent chaos. Every time someone revealed something incriminating, the chat flooded with emojis and exclamations:

“MOUNTAIN FAKED AN ORGASM????”

“The AUDACITY of Terzo omg”

“MORE STORIES I BEG YOU”

The first hour of the stream passed in a blur of laughter, spilled wine, and wild confessions. They’d already blown past the €100,000 mark, and Terzo, glancing at the tracker on the screen, grinned like a man who knew exactly how this was going to end.

“Ah, we’re just getting started, miei amici,” he purred to the camera, raising his glass. “I hope you’re ready for a long, sinful night.”

The chat exploded again, the stream rolling on without a care in the world—just as the Ministry had planned. One hour down, twenty-three to go.

You made the executive decision—Terzo, with his wine-drunk smirk and half-lidded gaze, was definitely not in a condition to lead a coherent tour of the Ministry. There was no way he’d make it through the halls without getting distracted, lost, or deciding to take a nap on a velvet chaise halfway through. So you shifted it to later in the week, hoping his sobriety would at least slightly improve by then. But keeping things on track for now? That was another challenge altogether.

Ifrit—already three drinks deep—got it in his head that it was the perfect time for a little music. Before you could stop him, he grabbed an acoustic guitar someone had stashed in the corner, strumming out a chaotic, out-of-tune chord.

“Oh no…” you whispered, dread setting in. But it was already too late.

The chat went feral, donations flying in faster than the counter could register.

“LIVE Cirice karaoke??! I CAN’T”

“50€ if Ifrit makes it through without completely botching the chorus”

“Papáaaaaa, serenade us pls 🥺”

“Okay, okay!” Terzo swayed dangerously as he stood, grabbing the mic someone handed him with more enthusiasm than skill. “You want music? I am music!” he declared dramatically, then immediately stumbled into the edge of the coffee table.

The ghouls erupted in drunken laughter, Aether and Mist clutching each other as Terzo tried to recover his dignity, shooting them a lazy glare.

Ifrit fumbled with the guitar for a second, plucking out a hilariously off-key rendition of the opening riff to “Cirice.” The stream chat exploded with emojis—crying-laughing faces, wine glasses, and musical notes flooding the screen.

“What in Lucifer’s name is happening rn?”

“This is the most chaotic version of Cirice I’ve ever heard and I love it.”

“NOTHING is in tune but I’m still crying”

“I feel your presence… among these ghooooouls,” Terzo slurred into the mic, drawing out the notes like some unholy lounge singer. His eyes fluttered shut as he leaned too far back, nearly tipping over.

The ghouls cackled—Air doubled over on the floor, slamming his hand into the rug. Mountain kept it together, though his shoulders shook from suppressed laughter, while Omega helpfully chimed in, “That’s definitely not the line, but go off, Papa.”

“Shhh!” Terzo hissed, dramatically pressing a finger to his lips. “Art is fluid, Omega. Fluid!” He turned back to the mic, swaying as Ifrit fought to stay somewhat in rhythm. “I can feel your mother… I can feel your mother, beating in the dark…”

And then came the chorus—oh, the chorus.

Ifrit made a valiant attempt to hit the right chords, but by then, his fingers were as drunk as his brain. He strummed something that might have once resembled music, but now sounded like a cat falling down a flight of stairs.

Terzo launched into the refrain anyway, shamelessly belting out:

“Can you feel the thunder?”

“Ciriiiiiiiiiiiiiiice!” he wailed, voice cracking beautifully.

The chat lost it.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS LMFAO”

“This is camp. This is art.”

“€200 if they finish the song without laughing.”

The laughter in the room reached dangerous levels—Aether and Air wheezing on the floor while Mist buried her face in Omega’s shoulder, her whole body shaking. Ifrit gave up halfway through the next verse, falling back onto the couch in defeat, still cradling the guitar as if it had personally betrayed him.

Terzo powered through, eyes closed, arms spread dramatically wide, like a man possessed by the spirit of the song—or possibly just too much wine. He staggered toward Mountain, shoving the mic in his face.

“Sing with me, amico!” Terzo demanded.

Mountain blinked slowly, stone-faced as ever. “…No.”

That sent the ghouls into another wave of hysterics, and even Terzo couldn’t hold back his own laughter this time. He stumbled back to his seat, collapsing into it with a satisfied grin, cheeks flushed pink from wine and joy.

As he tried to catch his breath, he slurred into the microphone: “Thank you, thank you. I’ll be here all day.”

The donations ticker shot past €150,000, and the stream chat devolved into chaos:

“This is peak content, nothing will top this.”

“€50 IF THEY DO ANOTHER SONG PLS”

“Terzo’s laugh is the sound of the gods.”

“Terzo autotune confirmed.”

The next ten hours passed in a blur of activities, laughter, and enough chaos to keep the viewers glued to their screens. Terzo had sobered up remarkably quickly—though that may have been aided by an embarrassing amount of pizza consumed during breaks—and the ghouls shifted gears, transitioning from tipsy karaoke to various challenges that had the chat on the edge of their seats.

Challenges ranged from food tastings (courtesy of the Ministry’s kitchen staff) to hilariously bad attempts at crafting—some ghouls were surprisingly talented, while others were definitely not. Mist and Ifrit attempted to decorate a cake, and after a chaotic hour of flour flying and frosting disasters, they presented what looked like a mangled abstract art piece that was more comical than edible.

The stream’s chat exploded with laughter:

“This is the worst cake I’ve ever seen, I LOVE it!”

“Is it a cake or a cursed artifact?”

“I’m convinced Ifrit was trying to summon a demon with that frosting.”

As the hours dragged on, they tackled more physical challenges—like an impromptu round of “Twister” where Terzo quickly found himself tangled with Earth and Ember, both of whom were giggling uncontrollably. Mountain, being the quiet powerhouse he was, nailed his positions, winning the game without breaking a sweat while the others fell into a heap of limbs and laughter.

Then came the 15-hour mark. The energy in the room had shifted, weariness creeping in as they gathered around the coffee table for a much-needed pizza feast. Boxes of steaming hot pizza piled high, and the ghouls dove in with reckless abandon, conversation flowing easily as they rehashed the day’s absurdity.

Terzo plopped down beside Aether, pulling a slice of pepperoni from the box. “I swear if I see another cake like that, I might just lose my mind,” he said between bites, crumbs speckling his robe.

“If you keep eating like that, it’ll be your mind that gets lost in the cheese,” Aether shot back with a cheeky grin.

The laughter was punctuated by the chatter of pizza grease and a chorus of “Ooooh, I love this topping!”

Then, the notification chimed in—the stream hit €1 million raised. It was a monumental milestone, and the chat erupted in celebration, accompanied by a flurry of donations and cheers.

“YESSSS!!!”

“THIS IS WHAT WE CAME FOR!”

“CIRCUS OF HORRORS, MORE PLEASE!”

The ghouls, momentarily distracted from their pizza, erupted into cheers and hugs, Terzo’s laughter ringing out above the rest as he stood to address the camera, waving his arms like a conductor. “We did it! One million! Can you believe it?”

Ifrit, eyes slightly glazed but clearly enthusiastic, lifted his slice of pizza high. “To one million euros! And to our loyal fans—cheers!” he declared, taking a massive bite.

The viewers went wild. Donations poured in as they celebrated the milestone, fueling the ghouls’ energy once more. Terzo, clearly enjoying the attention, began to plan the next segment.

“Okay,” he said clapping his hands, trying to keep his eyes open. “If we reach our goal in the next two hours, eh, tesoro,” he looked at you, “how much more is left?”

“€400,000, Papa,” you replied.

“They won’t do it. €400,000 in the next two hours and I’ll start an Only Fans.”

The chat exploded with a mix of disbelief and excitement.

“NO WAY!”

“THIS IS A THREAT AND A PROMISE.”

“I need to see this!”

You felt your face flush at Terzo’s bold declaration. “Papa, are you sure that’s a good idea?” you blurted, half-laughing, half-worrying about the chaos that would ensue if he followed through.

“Absolutely!” he replied, puffing out his chest as if the prospect thrilled him. “Think of the money! And all the juicy content…” His eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned closer to the camera, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “I could do a series called ‘Cooking with Terzo’—a little bit of spice, a little bit of… you know!”

“I’m dead,” someone typed in the chat.

“This is going to break the internet.”

“We’ll donate if you promise to wear that robe.”

Ifrit nearly choked on his pizza, laughter bubbling up as he pointed at Terzo. “Oh, please do! I want to see how many ghouls will actually pay to watch you cook in that!”

Terzo threw his head back, laughing heartily. “You’re all sick! But fine, if that’s what it takes!” He turned back to you, eyes sparkling with an idea. “And let’s sweeten the deal. If we hit that €400,000 mark, I’ll also do a live reading of my favorite poetry… in the most seductive way possible.”

The chat lit up with renewed enthusiasm, and you couldn’t help but shake your head, half-amused and half-concerned about what exactly Terzo was proposing.

“THIS IS A GOLDMINE!”

“I’m about to donate my entire paycheck.”

“Can’t wait to see this sexy poetry reading!”

The only problem was, that goal was reached in less than 30 minutes after Terzo’s suggestion, leaving everyone speechless. Especially Terzo. While he didn’t actually have a problem with going through with what he’d promised, he never expected it to actually happen. He didn’t think anyone would donate multiple times, nor that some would donate such high amounts. He was prepared and so sure that he’d be safe. He was wrong.

When the live stream had ended, over €2 million had been raised for the Ministry’s benefit, and while the clergy were overjoyed with the donation goal exceeding, there was now the concern of Terzo’s Only Fans page. In a feedback meeting with the upper clergy, you were both praised and scolded for allowing Terzo to announce something so stupid, especially as no one could go back on their word.

Sister Imperator put you on content control, whether you liked it or not.

“I do not think,” Papa Secondo began, frowning at Sister Imperator, “we should force ___ to take part in my idiota fratello’s Only Fans. He should be the only one punished, no?”

Sister Imperator sighed. “I didn’t suggest she stars in them.”

Terzo began picking at his nails. “I was thinking she would.”

The entire room looked at him, your mouth agape. “Come again?” you asked, disbelief laced in your words.

“Well,” Terzo donned his famous cheeky expression, “you were the one who suggested we do the live stream in the first place.”

“I didn’t tell you to suggest making porn to reach your goal! You did that all on your own.”

“I would not have suggested it if we didn’t do the live stream in the first place.”

Sister Imperator tried to interrupt but you stopped her. “You were one of the first people on board with the live stream, if I recall.”

“I cannot force you, of course, Sorella,” he began.

“No you fucking can’t!” you exclaimed.

“But, the money made would be… well, a lot. And if I do not have you, I’m going to have to make love to someone else.”

You nodded and stood, straightening your habit. “Perfect, I’m sure the wine ghouls would offer themselves up willingly.”

Terzo leaned back in his chair, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. “Ma dai, you know they wouldn’t hold a candle to what we could create together. Besides, it’s not just about the money, tesoro. Think of the divertimento, the thrill of it all.” He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Immagina the stories we could tell, the cose we could do… and all the fans watching, begging for more.”

You felt your resolve wavering as his words wrapped around you, the promise of adventure tingling in the air. “And who’s to say we couldn’t make it fun for ourselves? Sei d’accordo? Just a little taste of our wild side, and then we can go back to our proper lives.”

He tilted his head, those charming eyes locked onto yours, an irresistible challenge hidden within his gaze. “What do you say? Shall we give them a show they’ll never forget?”

You thought for a moment. “Do I get paid?”

Terzo chuckled, the mischievous glint in his eye growing more pronounced. “Certo, tesoro! You will be compensated handsomely. Think of it as your stipendio for the best performance of your life.” He leaned back slightly, crossing his arms, a grin playing on his lips. “Besides, it’s not just about the money; it’s about creating something special, something that will make waves for the Ministry.”

He leaned in again, his voice low and inviting. “And who knows? We might even enjoy ourselves along the way. After all, this is a nuova avventura—and I promise, you won’t regret it. Just think about it.”

And, oh boy, did you think about it. Long and hard. On the one hand, you’d be on the internet for the rest of your life as the person who was filmed fucking Papa Emeritus III. On the other hand, you’d be the person who fucked Papa Emeritus III. The people on that list was actually quite long, but still, it was a tempting prospect. You knew people who were on that list, who would sacrifice anyone they could get their hands on if it meant another chance with Terzo. And you were sat there, in the dark, at the witching hour, contemplating whether you should or not. The rest of the Ministry would have your guts for garters.

Ultimately, the choice was yours.

And you took it.

The careful deliberation had landed you to the conclusion that you very much wanted to be the person who fucked Papa Emeritus III for the world to see. There was something undeniably hot about being vulnerable in front of an audience, letting the world into your private realm. The thought of it was exhilarating. It transformed sex into a performance, turning every sigh and gasp into a piece of art, a story shared with countless viewers. You could almost hear the murmurs of anticipation as people tuned in, eagerly awaiting the unfolding drama.

And it wasn’t just about the audience; it was about him. With every glance, every teasing comment he threw your way, you could feel the electric connection sparking between you, the tension building until it became impossible to ignore. To be desired so openly, to have someone like Terzo wanting you—really wanting you—was intoxicating. The allure of exploring that passion on camera, of giving in to your desires while the world watched, sent heat pooling in your core.

What made it even hotter was the thought of pushing boundaries. The idea of sharing an experience so deeply personal and yet so public made your pulse quicken. You could imagine the way his hands would explore your body, the weight of his gaze as he looked at you with hunger while the cameras captured every moment. It was an act of surrender, a dance of dominance and submission that could leave both of you breathless and craving more.

And there was a thrill in knowing that the final product would live on forever, a digital record of your passion. You could already picture the comments flooding in—words of praise, envy, desire from viewers who wished they were in your place. The idea of turning the tables, of being the one who brought Terzo to his knees while being cheered on by fans, was undeniably intoxicating.

Ultimately, the choice you made was about seizing the moment, about embracing the adventure that lay ahead. You wanted to explore the depths of your own desires, and what better way to do that than with someone who exuded confidence and charm, all while the world watched?

With a deep breath, you felt your decision solidify. You were ready to step into that spotlight, to become a part of something that was larger than life. Let the world see you. Let them see what it means to be with Papa Emeritus III. The idea ignited a fire within you, and you knew, without a doubt, that you were ready for whatever came next.

You took charge of the preparations, determined to create an atmosphere that matched the grandeur of the moment. Terzo’s room was the perfect setting—opulent and gothic, adorned with rich purple drapes that cascaded down the walls and a massive four-poster bed draped in velvet. The dim, flickering candlelight cast playful shadows, enhancing the sultry ambiance while adding an air of mystery.

You meticulously arranged the space, making sure every detail was just right. A few strategically placed pillows adorned the bed, their deep colors complementing the purple hues around you. You placed a vintage mirror nearby to capture the angles and reflections, knowing it would only add to the allure of the performance.

As you moved about the room, the thrill of anticipation thrummed through you. You set up the camera, ensuring it was perfectly positioned to catch every moment without obstruction. There was a certain rush in knowing you were about to share something so intimate with the world. You checked the lighting, adjusting it to create a soft glow that would enhance the sultriness of the scene.

You stepped back to admire your handiwork. The room looked stunning—every element came together to create a setting that felt both enchanting and erotic. You could almost feel Terzo’s presence there with you, the energy crackling in the air as you imagined how he would take in the space.

Terzo walked into the room with an effortless swagger, his attire embodying the perfect blend of gothic elegance and seductive flair. He wore a fitted black velvet jacket, the fabric glimmering softly in the candlelight, its high collar framing his face and emphasizing his striking features. Underneath, a deep purple silk shirt peeked out, the material clinging to his form and accentuating the subtle curves of his torso.

His pants were tailored and sleek, hugging his legs perfectly and tapering down to black leather boots that gleamed like polished obsidian. The ensemble was completed with a few silver rings adorning his fingers, catching the light with every gesture he made.

As he moved closer, the rich colors of his outfit contrasted beautifully with the opulent purples of the room, making him the focal point of the scene. The combination of textures—velvet, silk, and leather—added an element of sensuality that was hard to ignore. His presence was magnetic, and the way he carried himself with confidence only heightened the air of seduction in the room. “Che spettacolo!” he exclaimed, his voice a mix of awe and admiration. “You’ve outdone yourself, tesoro.”

The way he looked at you—filled with excitement and desire—sent a thrill coursing through your veins. “It’s perfect for what we’re about to do,” you replied, your heart racing.

He stepped closer, his gaze intense. “I have a feeling this will be a night to remember.” The promise behind his words was undeniable, sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

With a deep breath, you stepped over to the camera, your heart pounding in anticipation. You flicked the switch, and the red light glowed ominously, signaling that you were being recorded. The moment the cameras turned on, a rush of adrenaline surged through you. You adjusted the angle slightly, ensuring that Terzo would be perfectly framed in the shot.

“Ciao a tutti!” Terzo called out, flashing a charming smile at the camera, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Welcome to the Ministry’s most scandalous event yet!” His playful tone set the stage, and you could feel the energy in the room shift, becoming electric with the prospect of what was to come.

You moved back to the bed, positioning yourself beside him. “Are you ready to give them a show they won’t forget?” you teased, your heart racing as his gaze locked onto yours.

“Oh, I intend to make it memorable,” he replied, his voice low and sultry. With a playful wink, he leaned in closer, the warmth of his body brushing against yours, igniting a heat that spread through you. The cameras captured every nuance of your interaction—the chemistry crackling between you, the unspoken promises lingering in the air.

Slowly, he closed the gap, capturing your lips with his in a deep, hungry kiss. The taste of him—sweet with a hint of wine—was intoxicating. As he kissed you, he pulled you closer, his hands finding your waist and drawing you against him, the heat radiating from his body enveloping you.

With a confident grin, he broke the kiss and looked deep into your eyes, gauging your reaction. “I want them to see how much I enjoy you,” he said, his voice dripping with seduction. He began to explore your body with his hands, his fingers tracing the curves of your hips, slowly sliding up to your waist. The touch was firm yet tender, igniting your skin and heightening your senses.

“Let’s give them a real show,” he murmured, a wicked grin forming on his lips. He leaned back, taking a moment to admire you, and then turned to the camera, making sure to address the viewers. “Are you ready for this? Because I am.”

With that, he directed your body to turn slightly toward the camera, giving the audience a view of you both as he began to slowly undress you, his fingers deftly working the buttons of your attire. Each small reveal felt monumental, the thrill of being watched heightening every sensation as he pulled you deeper into the moment.

With each button he undid, the anticipation built, your heart racing faster as Terzo’s playful yet deliberate touch left a trail of heat across your skin. He took his time, his fingers grazing your sides, lingering just long enough to make you gasp before continuing the slow descent.

“Bellissima,” he breathed, taking in the sight of you, his eyes dark with desire. “I want everyone to see how stunning you are.” His gaze was intense, locking onto yours as if he were the only one who mattered in that moment.

Finally, he pushed your clothing aside, baring your skin to the dim light of the room and the eager eyes of the audience. You felt exposed yet empowered, knowing that Terzo was right there beside you, guiding you through this exhilarating experience. He leaned in closer, his lips trailing down your neck, kissing and nibbling, making you arch into him as the sensations intensified.

“Let them see how I worship you,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. He pressed soft kisses along your collarbone, each one igniting a spark that sent shivers through your body.

As he continued to explore, his hands roamed freely over your curves, and he made sure to play up every soft gasp and moan that escaped your lips. The thrill of being on camera only heightened the pleasure, every touch feeling more electric under the gaze of the viewers.

“Now, let’s give them what they came for,” he said, his voice a sultry promise as he pulled back just enough to position you perfectly in front of the camera, ensuring every tantalizing moment would be caught on film.

He looked at you with that mischievous glint, his eyes flickering between your lips and the camera. “Are you ready for your audience, tesoro?” His tone dripped with playful seduction as he grasped your chin gently, tilting your head back slightly.

You nodded, the thrill of it all making your heart race. “Yes,” you breathed, feeling a rush of excitement as he leaned in again, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, his tongue teasingly brushing against yours.

With that, he began to take control, guiding your body to move with his as he pulled you down onto the bed, the plush surface cradling you both. He hovered above you for a moment, his presence dominating yet undeniably magnetic.

“Ti mostrerò,” he said with a cheeky grin, “I’ll show you how it’s done.” And with that, he began to explore your body with renewed fervor, kissing a path down your torso, savoring every inch of you as the camera captured it all—every sigh, every movement—immortalizing the moment for his audience and for you both.

Terzo’s kisses trailed lower, his lips leaving a warm, tingling sensation in their wake as he moved down your body. He paused for a moment, taking the time to admire the way you responded to his touch, the way your body arched instinctively towards him, craving more.

“Sei così bella,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “You’re so beautiful.” His eyes sparkled with mischief as he looked up at you, clearly relishing the moment.

With that, he settled between your legs, a playful glint in his gaze as he teased the hem of your garment. He took his time, pulling it up just enough to reveal the smooth skin of your thighs, pressing soft kisses along the inner seams as he ascended. The sensation was intoxicating, each kiss igniting a fire deep within you, fueling your anticipation.

“Let them see you,” he whispered, glancing up at the camera before continuing his exploration. “Every inch of you deserves to be admired.” His mouth moved closer to your core, but he stopped just short, relishing the way your breath hitched in your throat.

“Dai,” he coaxed playfully, his voice low and teasing. “Let me taste you.”

With that, he finally pressed his lips against you, the warmth and softness of his mouth igniting a spark that sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. His tongue flicked and danced, teasing you with gentle strokes as he expertly coaxed you closer to the edge. You could feel the camera capturing every moment, amplifying the intensity of the experience.

He locked eyes with you, ensuring you felt every ounce of pleasure as he brought you closer and closer. “Voglio sentire i tuoi gemiti,” he said, his voice a sultry growl against your sensitive skin. “I want to hear your moans.”

The thrill of being on camera only heightened the sensations, and as he continued to pleasure you, the weight of the moment settled in—this was not just a private encounter, but a spectacle, a performance where every gasp and moan would be immortalized for the world to see.

Terzo knew just how to play the audience, and as he worked his magic, he made sure to encourage you, his voice a steady stream of encouragement. “Sì, così, bella… Let them see how much you enjoy this.” His words were like a balm, igniting a passion within you that couldn’t be contained.

With a sultry silence enveloping the room, Terzo continued his devoted ministrations, his tongue moving in tantalizing patterns that drove you wild. Every flick and swirl of his mouth sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, as if he were orchestrating a symphony of sensations tailored just for you.

He expertly explored every sensitive spot, his lips pressing against your skin in soft, teasing kisses before returning to his focused work. The weight of the moment became more intense as he leaned into his task, his dark hair falling into his eyes, creating an intimate veil between you and the world outside the camera’s gaze.

Your breath quickened, each gasp escaping your lips louder than the last, and the sheer thrill of being recorded made everything feel heightened. The warmth of the room mingled with the heat radiating from your core, every sensation amplified as Terzo’s mouth worked its magic.

As he continued to feast on you, you could see the way he savored the experience—his eyes occasionally glancing up to meet yours, ensuring that he was bringing you the pleasure you craved. The intimate connection shared between you felt electric, even with the cameras rolling, capturing every moment of your shared desire.

You could feel the familiar tightening in your belly, the sensation building within you as Terzo pressed on, his dedication unwavering. It was as if he was lost in the rhythm of it all, completely focused on bringing you to the brink of pleasure.

As he pulled back slightly, just enough to tease you, you felt a surge of frustration mixed with desire. Your body craved more, urging him to take you to that precipice. Yet, Terzo seemed to enjoy the slow build, prolonging the anticipation, the delicious torture that left you breathless and begging for release.

You squirmed beneath him, your hips instinctively grinding against his face as you sought more friction, more contact. He responded with a deep hum, sending vibrations coursing through you that only heightened the pleasure. The noise escaped your lips unbidden—a soft, needy whimper that echoed in the intimate space.

With every passing moment, the pressure inside you intensified, winding tighter and tighter like a coiled spring. Terzo’s skilled mouth was relentless, coaxing you closer to the edge, and you could feel that familiar warmth pooling in your core, the unmistakable sign that release was imminent.

He alternated between gentle kisses and fervent licks, knowing precisely how to keep you on the brink. Just as you thought you might tumble over, he would pull back slightly, letting the waves of pleasure wash over you without allowing you to reach that sweet release.

The thrill of being filmed only added to the excitement, a spicy undercurrent that made everything feel more urgent. You wanted to cry out, to let the world know just how good he was making you feel, but instead, you bit your lip, savoring the delicious tension that hung in the air.

As he shifted slightly, deepening his focus, the intensity rose to an unbearable level. Terzo’s fingers slipped under your thighs, lifting your legs slightly, opening you up even more for him. The change in angle allowed him to explore deeper, his tongue delving into places that made your back arch and your breaths come in gasps.

Terzo seemed to sense the shift in your energy, and with a renewed fervor, he dove back in, his mouth working at an even more fevered pace. You felt the tension build, pushing you closer and closer to the edge, and as he locked eyes with you once more, his gaze was filled with that same playful intensity that had drawn you in from the very beginning.

You could feel the coil inside you tightening, ready to snap at any moment. Just as the waves began to crash, Terzo’s movements became more fervent, his tongue flicking faster, more insistently, driving you over the edge. The world erupted in a blur of sensations as your body responded, pleasure flooding through you, making you writhe beneath him.

“Terzo!” you cried out, the name a desperate plea as you surrendered to the waves of ecstasy washing over you. Your body tensed, every nerve ending alive with pleasure as you finally fell, spiraling into that euphoric release that left you breathless and trembling.

Terzo didn’t let up, continuing to work you through it, his mouth still latched onto you, drawing out every last moment of bliss. The camera captured everything—the passion, the pleasure, the pure ecstasy of the moment—and as you came down from the high, you realized you’d just shared something intensely personal and thrilling with the world.

In that heated aftermath, as your body slowly settled, you looked down at him, breathless and dazed, and caught the satisfied grin on his face. He pulled back slightly, his lips glistening and a playful glint in his eye. “Che esperienza incredibile,” he said, his voice low and sultry.

You could taste yourself on him when he kissed you, his tongue delving into your mouth and capturing you in a passionate kiss. You forgot the cameras were there until he looked one in the eye, staring down the barrel of the lens with a smug expression on his face that told everyone he knew just how fucking good he was. The arrogance he wore, on another man, would be the most obnoxious thing. But on him? Right now while your cum dripped from his lips and onto his chin, his body weighing yours down into the mattress and eyes wild with lust? This was the hottest thing you had ever seen, and you needed more of that arrogance while he fucked you silly.

“You came so hard, tesoro,” he teased, staring down at you once he finally looked at you. “Who made you come like that?”

“Y-you did,” you replied, breathlessly.

It wasn’t enough for him. “Tell everyone at home, the people who have their hands on themselves and are stroking wildly as they watched you… who made it happen?”

“Terzo!”

He hummed, a pleased rumble coming from him. “Esatto. Such a good girl for her Papa. What do you want next, hm? You have to tell us or we won’t know.”

Us. Including the audience in this as if they had any decision over what was about to happen to you. But the idea, knowing that so many people were watching this happen, and that Terzo was prioritising your pleasure on camera had you clenching around nothing. You wanted him deep inside you, touching all those spots that no one had ever been able to touch before. You wanted him to fuck you until you passed out and had the entire world watching as he did so.

“I w-want your cock, Papa,” you told him, naked hips bucking up to rub against him.

“Davvero? Where would you like it, tesoro?” He ran his index finger over your lips. “In your mouth?” He moved his hand down to in between your breasts. “Against these glorious tits?” He continued his movements, skipping over your sensitive snatch with his hands and rubbing your inner thighs teasingly. “Here? Where do you want my cock?”

“Inside me.”

“Il mia angela, more specific. Do you want me in your mouth?”

You shook your head.

“Words.”

“N-no.”

“Your ass?”

“No, Papa. Please.”

“Then where?”

“M-my cunt. Please fuck my cunt Papa.”

He giggled. He leaned down and bit your neck, playfully. “So polite. Begging so sweetly. Va bene,” he sat up and pulled off his jacket, throwing it over to the other side of the room, “Papa will give you what you want.”

He never undressed much further than that besides him rolling up his sleeves like he meant business. He pulled his cock out from beneath his slacks, teasing the audience with him still being clothed. The entire Ministry had seen this man naked innumerable times, but the rest of the world would have to wait.

From the sides of your body, he lifted your hands and trapped them beneath his own above your head. “Feel me,” he whispered in your ear before sliding himself inside you slowly.

As Terzo slowly pushed inside you, your body arched instinctively, desperate to take all of him. The initial stretch was exquisite, your walls clinging tightly to his cock as he sank in deeper, filling you inch by inch. The weight of his body pressing yours into the mattress was intoxicating, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered sweet nothings in a mix of Italian and English, each word sending shivers down your spine.

“Così stretto,” he murmured, his voice thick with lust. “So tight for me, tesoro. You feel incredible.”

The cameras were still rolling, capturing every moment of your connection, but in that moment, it felt like the world had shrunk to just the two of you. The sensation of being so completely filled, so utterly claimed, had your heart racing, and the thought that others were watching only added to the intense heat pooling in your core.

Terzo held your hands firmly above your head, his fingers digging deliciously into your wrists as he began to move, his hips rolling in slow, deliberate thrusts. Each time he pulled out just enough to leave you wanting, only to thrust back in with a firm, measured pace. His cock hit all the right spots, the delicious friction building a heady pressure inside you.

“Fuck, Papa!” you gasped, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, urging him to go deeper, harder. But Terzo, ever the tease, kept his pace slow and torturous, drawing out your pleasure until you were trembling beneath him, desperate for more.

“Patience, bella,” he teased, his lips brushing against your jawline. “We have an audience, remember? We want to give them a show they’ll never forget.”

You moaned in response, the heat of his words matching the fire building inside you. The idea that so many eyes were on you, watching you writhe beneath Papa Emeritus III, was electrifying. You could practically feel the weight of their gaze, knowing they were all waiting, eagerly anticipating the moment he would finally take you as hard and fast as you craved.

“Pl-please, Terzo,” you begged, your voice breathy and desperate. “I ne… need more.”

He grinned wickedly, clearly enjoying the way you were pleading for him. His pace quickened slightly, his thrusts becoming deeper, more insistent, but still not quite enough to push you over the edge. It was maddening, the way he kept you teetering on the brink of ecstasy, his cock filling you completely with every slow, deliberate movement.

“Look at you,” he purred, his voice dripping with arrogance. “So needy, tesoro. You want Papa to fuck you harder, don’t you?”

“Y-yes,” you breathed, your hands gripping his tightly as your hips bucked up to meet his. “Please, f-fuck me ha-ah! Harder.”

He chuckled darkly, clearly savoring the power he had over you in this moment. “Brava,” he praised, his lips ghosting over yours. “You ask so sweetly. But I think they want to hear you beg a little more.”

With that, he shifted slightly, adjusting his angle so that his cock hit that perfect spot deep inside you with every thrust. Your eyes fluttered shut as a moan escaped your lips, your body tightening around him in response. The sensation was overwhelming, the pleasure almost too much to bear.

“Tell them,” Terzo commanded, his voice a low growl. “Tell them how much you want it.”

You opened your eyes, glancing at the camera that was focused on your every move, your heart pounding in your chest. “I want it,” you gasped, your voice trembling with need. “I want Papa to fuck me harder. Please.”

“Perfetto,” he purred, his pace finally picking up as he drove into you harder, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. The bed creaked beneath you as he moved faster, his hips slamming against yours with a rhythm that was as punishing as it was perfect.

You could feel the tension coiling in your belly, that familiar pressure building rapidly as he took you harder, deeper, his cock hitting that sweet spot with every thrust. The sound of your combined moans filled the room, the lewd slap of skin on skin only adding to the intensity of the moment.

Terzo’s grip on your hands tightened as he leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. “Come for me, cara,” he whispered, his voice thick with lust. “Let them see how good I make you feel.”

His words sent you over the edge. Your body tensed as the orgasm crashed over you, your walls clenching around his cock as you cried out his name. The pleasure was overwhelming, a tidal wave of sensation that left you trembling beneath him, completely undone.

Terzo didn’t let up, continuing to fuck you through your orgasm, his thrusts unrelenting as he chased his own release. The look on his face was one of pure ecstasy, his eyes dark with lust as he watched you fall apart beneath him.

“Buona ragazza,” he growled, his pace becoming erratic as he neared his own climax. “You’re perfect.”

As Terzo’s thrusts became rougher, his focus shifting to his own pleasure, the sight of him above you was utterly mesmerizing. His sharp, angular features were illuminated by the soft, purple glow of the room, casting shadows that only added to his allure. His slicked-back hair was now slightly disheveled from the intensity of the moment, and a thin sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead, rubbing his paints off him with every bead that dripped onto your body. Every movement radiated raw, untamed power, as he lost himself in the rhythm of his own need.

The fabric of his shirt was slightly wrinkled now, his sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal the strength in his forearms as he braced himself above you. Every muscle in his body was taut, working in perfect harmony as he plunged into you over and over. He was fully in control, and he knew it. The confidence he exuded was magnetic, the way his body moved with precision and purpose made it impossible to look away.

You could see the tension building in his jaw, his lips parted as he breathed heavily, and the deep, guttural sounds escaping him were enough to send shivers down your spine. His eyes, still dark with lust, never left you, watching intently as you squirmed and gasped beneath him. The combination of his powerful movements and the way his clothes framed his body only added to his allure—this man, still so composed and dignified, was fucking you like it was the only thing that mattered in the world.

The way he thrust into you now, hard and fast, each movement rougher than the last, sent waves of pleasure crashing through you all over again. You could feel his cock throbbing inside you, stretching you in all the right ways, and the sound of his hips slamming into yours echoed through the room, mixing with your breathy moans and the wet sounds of your bodies colliding.

Terzo’s head tilted back slightly, his eyes half-lidded as his pleasure began to crest, and the sight of him, still fully dressed, so composed in his authority even while chasing his release, made him look more powerful than ever. He was gorgeous—perfect in his calculated roughness, his eyes locking onto yours as he growled, “Sì, tesoro, I’m close.”

The power he held in this moment, the way he dominated the space around you, both on camera and within the confines of the bed, left you in awe. You could feel the tightening in his body, the way his body tensed as he pushed himself toward the edge, and the sound of his raspy breathing only deepened the sexual haze you were already lost in.

He was fully in control, fucking you with a raw intensity that left no doubt about who was in charge.

As Terzo’s pace grew even more frantic, the pressure within him reached its peak. His grip on your wrists tightened, his body moving with an unrestrained force as he chased his release. With one final, deep thrust, he buried himself inside you, his head thrown back, and a guttural groan ripped from his throat as he came.

You could feel his cock pulse within you as he spilled inside, the heat of his release spreading through your body. His hips stuttered slightly, pushing deeper as his orgasm washed over him, his face contorting in a mix of pleasure and relief. His breaths came in ragged gasps, and for a moment, the room was filled with nothing but the sound of his panting and the subtle creak of the bed beneath you.

His body was still pressed firmly against yours, his cock softening but still buried deep inside you, and you could feel his weight resting heavily on you. Slowly, Terzo lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours with a look of satisfied arrogance that only made the moment hotter. The smirk that curved his lips was smug and lazy, a man fully aware of the power he held over you.

“Perfetto,” he murmured, his voice husky and breathless. He lowered himself slightly, pressing his lips to yours in a slow, heated kiss. You could taste his satisfaction, the faint saltiness of sweat and the lingering traces of your own pleasure on his tongue.

When he finally pulled back, he released your wrists, his fingers trailing lightly over your skin as he sat up, his cock slipping from your body. You felt the cool air hit you, contrasting sharply with the warmth of his release that still dripped from between your thighs.

Terzo leaned back, fixing his gaze on the camera, his signature smirk in place as he casually straightened his clothing. He looked powerful and composed, a stark contrast to your naked, trembling form beneath him. Without even needing to say a word, his eyes conveyed everything—he knew exactly what he’d done, and how many people would watch him do it when this finally got uploaded.

Turning his attention back to you, he offered a hand, helping you sit up with a surprising gentleness, given the ferocity with which he’d just fucked you. His touch was still warm, his thumb brushing your skin as he whispered, “Che bella performance, tesoro.”

Terzo’s eyes glinted with a playful mischief as he reached for the camera, effortlessly lifting it with one hand while the other brushed against your thigh, still slick with the aftermath of your pleasure. He aimed the lens down towards you, and the moment he captured the view, he chuckled, his voice dripping with seductive satisfaction.

“Ecco,” he said, a triumphant grin spreading across his face. “Look at what I’ve done.” He held the camera steady, ensuring that every detail was perfectly framed—the way your thighs glistened, your pussy swollen and glistening with his cum spilling out, a true canvas to his art, and to the intense pleasure you’d just shared.

“Non è bellissimo?” he purred, clearly enjoying himself as he glanced between you and the camera, making sure his audience soaked in every tantalizing second. “This is what happens when you give yourself to me completely. Who wouldn’t want to see how beautifully you take me?”

With that, he tilted the camera closer, as if to tease the viewers with a closer look at the remnants of your passion. The sight of you, still panting and flushed, made his grin widen. “Such a good girl,” he murmured, pride lacing his tone. “Just look at you—perfectly ravaged and mine.”

You felt a rush of heat flood your cheeks, the mixture of embarrassment and thrill sending a shiver down your spine. Terzo, ever the showman, basked in the moment, letting the camera linger on your beaten pussy, the remnants of his cum a stark reminder of the wildness that had just unfolded.

Terzo turned the camera back to his face, still beaming with that signature cheekiness, and waved at the viewers. “Ciao, darlings! Until next time!” He flashed a wink before shutting off the feed, the air between you buzzing with the echoes of laughter and satisfaction.

As the last light from the camera dimmed, he leaned over, an earnest expression replacing the playful grin. “Beautiful girl,” he said, brushing a stray hair from your face, “you were incredible. Are you alright, amore?” His voice was soft, laced with genuine concern.

You nodded, still feeling the aftershocks of pleasure coursing through you, but his worried brow made you chuckle. “I’m fine, honestly. Just a bit… well, worn out,” you replied, giving him a teasing smile.

“Worn out?” he echoed, feigning shock. “I’m shocked—absolutely shocked! It’s as if I’ve just put you through a rigorous training regime.” He chuckled, moving down to grab a soft cloth from the bedside table. “Well, allow me to be your humble servant and clean you up, then.”

With a gentle touch, he began to wipe you down, the softness of the cloth contrasting with the heat still radiating from your body. “If I’d known this was part of the gig, I’d have charged more,” you joked, trying to stifle a laugh as he focused intently on his task.

“Ah, ma bella,” he grinned, “I’d pay any amount just for this privilege.” His fingers danced over your skin as he cleaned you with care, his eyes sparkling with affection. “I must admit, though, this isn’t how I expected our little escapade to go. I thought I’d just get to show off my talent.” He winked at you, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

“You certainly did show off,” you replied, giving him a playful nudge. “Who knew you were such a—what did you call it? A ‘humble servant’?”

He chuckled, leaning in closer, his voice dropping to a mock-serious whisper. “I do believe that’s my new title. Papa Emeritus III, Humble Servant of the Ministry of Pleasure. It has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

“Very catchy,” you replied, fighting back another laugh. “I’m sure the Ministry will put that on your business cards.”

“Esatto!” he exclaimed, puffing his chest out proudly. “Right next to ‘Professional Heartthrob.’” He finished cleaning you up and tossed the cloth aside with a flourish, as if he’d just completed a masterful performance.

“Now, how do you feel?” he asked, genuine warmth flooding his tone.

“Like I just had the most exhilarating experience of my life,” you replied, smiling widely. “And surprisingly, I’m not complaining about the aftermath either.”

“Good!” he exclaimed, his eyes brightening. “Just don’t forget to tell all the viewers how marvellous their Papa is, alright?” He nudged you playfully, his voice a teasing sing-song. “I wouldn’t want to lose my fanbase just because I’m a bit of a messy lover!”

You couldn’t help but giggle at his antics, feeling a rush of affection for this man who could seamlessly blend charm and humour, even in the most intimate of moments. “I promise, I’ll tell them you’re an absolute delight.”

“Delightfully messy, perhaps!” he corrected, throwing an arm around your shoulder and pulling you close. “But no one can resist a little chaos, can they?”

“Indeed,” you replied, leaning against him, feeling the warmth of his presence envelop you. “Especially when it’s this much fun.”

Translations:

Amico - Male friend.

Ma dai - “Come on” or “Oh, come on.”

Tesoro - “Treasure,” often used as a term of endearment like “darling” or “dear.”

Immagina - “Imagine.”

Cose - “Things.”

Sei d’accordo? - “Do you agree?”

Certo - “Of course.”

Stipendio - “Salary” or “wage.”

Nuova avventura - “New adventure.”

Bellissima - Beautiful

Ti mostrerò - I will show you

Sei così bella - You are so beautiful

Voglio sentire i tuoi gemiti - I want to hear your moans

Sì, così, bella - Yes, like that, beautiful

Che esperienza incredibile - What an incredible experience.

Esatto - That’s right.

Davvero? - Is that so?

Che bella performance - A beautiful performance.

Ecco - here.

Non è bellissimo? - Isn’t it beautiful?

Prev./Next

[visionsthatdance]

Support for Western North Carolina

This is the text body of an email from Carolina Jews for Justice, a grassroots organizing group based in Durham, NC. I thought I would share it here.

Monetary Donations = Direct Aid

Please consider making donations to the following mutual aid and support efforts or on-ground organizations, and please share widely:

Day One Relief is mobilizing and a trusted source sending direct aid via plane to hard hit spaces. 

*Monetary and Direct Item Give*

 Donate to Day One Relief

Operation Airdrop

Mutual Aid Disaster Relief

Triangle Mutual Aid (coordinating with Asheville Mutual Aid)

BeLoved Asheville - needs funds and is coordinating volunteers with trucks who can drive supplies to people, out of 32 Old Charlotte Hwy Asheville, NC

Organizing Resilience (benefits Down Home NC, and other rural organizers doing the deep, year-round work, and partaking in community assessment surveys right now)

Items Needed

Water

Life Straws

Chainsaws

Heavy-duty storage totes

Heavy-duty tarps (the blue ones are less good)

Generators

Roofing nails

Baby formula

Non-perishable food

Manual can openers

Coolers

Gatorade

Wire brushes

Trash bags (the heavy ones are sometimes called "contractor bags")

Brooms

Mops

Laundry detergent

Washboards

Batteries, power banks

Mosquito spray

Toilet paper

Dehumidifiers

Box fans

Solar charging items

Diapers, baby wipes

5 gal buckets

Respirators and N-95 cartridges

2x4s

Bleach

Drop-Off Locations

Triangle Area

+ Carrboro, NC: 

Back Alley Bikes

100 Boyd St, Carrboro, NC 27510

Open Tues - Sat. 11am to 6pm

+ Durham, NC:

The Scrap Exchange

2050 Chapel Hill Rd, Durham, NC 27707

10:30am - 6pm Tue-Sun.

Art Post 

718 Iredell, Durham NC 27705

Starting Monday, Sept. 30th

Open Monday-Saturday 12-6pm

Maverick’s Smokehouse and Taproom

900 W Main Street, Durham NC 27701

*on street parking and free parking available in Brightleaf Square Lot*

Sunday 11am-9pm

Monday-Tuesday 11am-2pm

Wednesday-Thursday 11am-9pm

Friday-Saturday 11am-11pm

+ Raleigh, NC: 

RUMAH 

415 Hillsborough St., Raleigh

Drop off during events. See calendar on website raleighmutualaid.info

Triad Area

Taking donations over the next few weeks. Accepted Items include: sports drinks, hydration packs, baby wipes, diapers, baby formula, bug spray, sunscreen, plastic utensils, manual can openers, large trash bags, non-perishable foods, cleaning supplies, plastic sheeting/tarps, toothbrushes and toothpaste, toiletries/sanitation items, pet food, hand sanitizer, sanitizer wipes, feminine hygiene products, heavy-duty work gloves and unworn socks. 

+ Greensboro, NC: 

GetOutdoors Pedal & Paddle

1515 W Gate City Blvd., Greensboro NC

AND: 

241 Summit Avenue

11am - 1pm Tuesday-Friday

+ Lewisville, NC: 

The Coffee Mill 

6275 Shallowford Road, Lewisville, NC

Charlotte Area:

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Drop offs for Operation Airdrop at Walmart Parking Lot

5825 Thunder Rd NW, Concord, NC 28027

[taylorswiftstyle]

Sarah never goes ‘out of style’

For more than 12 years, Sarah Chapelle has catalogued hundreds of pieces of Swift’s style. The fashion blogger can tell you the accessories, handbags, shoes, blouses, dresses, hats, jewelry, you name it the singer has worn in public.

She has the process meticulously figured out. Based on the fabric, the cut, the color, the stich or the hem, she can discern which items Swift is wearing. Chapelle posts screenshots and thoughtful anecdotes on her page and has amassed 200,000 followers on her Instagram page @taylorswiftstyled.

“As of late, she’s been wearing a lot of The Row,” she said, “which is the Olsen twins’ brand. But in terms of kind of her go-tos over a long period of time, she wears a lot of Reformation, a lot of Free People. One of the calling cards of Taylor’s fashion, I think, is her ability to mix high and low brands. So she’ll wear a pair of Christian Louboutin boots, but she’ll pair them with a dress from Aritzia.”

Chapelle’s fashion site, TaylorSwiftStyle.com, documents the looks, prices and brands. What makes it easier for Chapelle is Swift will repeat clothing or stick with familiar brands. You may think this fashionista has a lot of Swift’s exacts, but she only has a few including an Henri Bendel bag.

“I received it for Valentine’s Day,” she said. “It’s actually a convertible from a shoulder bag to a backpack.”

[femalefemur]

18+ minors do not interact!

i don't know if anyone has seen the trailer for heretic but i just saw it today and honestly john price would do this.

invites you in, the poor girl from the church who had knocked on his door asking for donations, says his wife is baking a pie and that you should come in and wait out the rain that’s started to fall. grinning when you agree, none the wiser that you’ve walked into his trap the moment he closes the door behind you, ushering you into the living room as he goes to make you a cup of tea. talks to you about religion, asks if you believe and you nod as you take a sip of tea, tell him that of course you believe, why wouldn’t you? he laughs a little, keen eyes watching your every movement as he nods before telling you he’s going to check the pie. 

the first inkling you have that something is wrong is when you spot the candle on the mantle of the fireplace, “cinnamon apple pie” the label reads. it makes you feel sick, a churning in your stomach as a pit forms. you panic as you look around, trying to open the front door to no avail before spotting a window, unfortunately too small for you or any other human to fit through. it’s then that you hear him, humming softly and methodically, you have no choice you suppose, you’ll just have to face him. you don’t expect the small chapel when you find him, confusion evident on your face as he stands at the altar and grins at you like a wolf hunting its prey. 

“do you truly believe?” he asks as he writes on the doors, marking one as disbelief and the other as belief before facing you.

all you can do is nod and ask what this has to do with you leaving, listening as he tells you that you must enter through the door of your choice, whether you return home is up to you. you stare at him for a moment, swallowing the bile rising in your throat before walking over and pushing open the door marked belief, looking at him one last time as his grin widens and his eyes twinkle in delight. 

“it will make your heart beat faster and it may even make you want to die but do not be afraid,” he stares at you as he keeps grinning like an untamed beast “you will witness a miracle.” 

it’s the last thing you hear before you step forward and become plunged in darkness.