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princekirijo · 1 year ago

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Thoughts on the P3 casts personas? i.e which do you prefer between the initial and secondary personas and which are your favourites?

Oh god thank Rui ily for this

Ok so I'll keep this one fairly opinion based (because someone else asked me a very similar question and I thought fuck it I'll rant about them twice because Personas and their designs are my fav thing to talk about) so without further ado:

So in general I absolutely adore the Persona 3 cast's Personas. Design wise they're not as flashy as P5's but I feel like they don't need to be because their more muted color palette and simpler designs fit the tone of P3 well. There are some I love to pieces (Penthesilea, Artemisia, Caesar, Castor and Cerberus come to mind) and then there are some that I don't like that much (Polydeuces and Nemesis). I'll put a more detailed breakdown undercut because I know I'll get carried away lmao but those are my general thoughts!

I'll break them down by character so it's easier!

MC/FeMC: OK so I do have a preference for male Orpheus but I honestly like both! Female Orpheus has a more cheery color palette (well brighter is prob the better word) which I like a lil more but I think the original one is just iconic. I love his harp and how he uses it to bash enemies idk why that's so funny to me it just is. Thanatos is probably one of my favorite designs ever I love that guy so much. I love his mask and I love how beast like he is. And the coffins? Absolute banger design. Messiah is overall a good design but I'm not as fond of it? It's very well executed but I think because it's so late in the game and it's just not as iconic as the other two I'm kinda meh about it you know. Thanatos is my fav for the MCs (and if he doesn't count for whatever reason then Orpheus).

Junpei: I don't have too much to say about Hermes design wise other than I like him! I like his bird look and tbh my fav thing about him is actually his attack animations! The way he slides into enemies is really satisfying to me idk why. Trismegistus though. God I love him so much. Mostly because of his awakening scene that is honestly one of the highlights of the game (like a lot of the second tier awakenings) and the fact his design is a fusion of Hermes and Medea is just so so good. I def prefer him.

Yukari: I really enjoy both Io and Isis a lot. I really like their designs and their lore and how it ties into Yukari's own story! However compared to some of the others, these designs kinda fall in the middle of the pack for me. Solid looks but nothing crazy you know? I think I slightly prefer Isis because of her wings I think that's such a cool design feature.

Akihiko: Ah my boy. He has one of the best and the worst persona designs of the cast for me. Polydeuces is such a dope choice for him as a Persona. Picking the immortal half of the Gemini twins for him and giving Shinji the other one is so so so so good and I could rant all day about why I love the concept. The design? Ugly af I'm sorry 😭 I cannot stand it it looks so weird the big bulky body with the skinny little legs looks so off-putting and his hair is just so weird? I don't like it at all 💀 Caesar however???!! Absolutely ADORE him. Such a powerful looking design and I love the lil person who sits in his chest (I'm one of the "it represents Shinji" people because I just love that idea so much). Caesar def is my preference here.

Fuuka: I really love Fuuka's Personas because of how she interacts with them. I really like how she's encased inside the persona and I think both Lucia and Juno look really really good. Unfortunately they're kinda similar to Yukari's for me in that they're like both very good but just don't stand out as much as some of the others. I prefer Lucia for her lore and I prefer Juno's design so 🤷‍♂️

Mitsuru: Oh baby. I absolutely adore Penthesilea and Artemisia to DEATH. I have written essays on here about the details of their designs and how they fit Mitsuru as a character so so well. Probably two of my favorites in the entire series. If I had to pick I think I'd give the slight edge to Artemisia because the fact that she has that red mask symbolizing the fact Mitsuru is finally coming out of her shell and letting down her walls a little makes me so so emotional.

Koromaru: Cerberus is a very very good boy. I think it's a really on the nose design but there's nothing wrong with that he's perfect. 10/10 would pet and give treats.

Ken: I think Ken's personas have the same deal as Akihiko's for me but to a lesser degree. I don't like Nemisis that much. I don't hate it as much as I hate Polydeuces, I just think it looks really awkward. I could see what they were going for and the blade saw thing is cool it just looks... Kinda weird. Idk. Kala-nemi on the other hand I much prefer! I think it does the over exaggerated proportions much better than Polydeuces (it's big bulky shoulders look and move really well) and I like the lore behind it. It's not a massive favorite but I enjoy it.

Aigis: Honestly I like both Palladion and Athena a lot. They're both really solid designs and they fit Aigis super well! I'd have to give the edge to Athena though because I love the big shields that circle her. Really cool touch.

Shinjiro: Oh god Castor. I adore Castor so so much. Such a fantastic design. The horse the blade in the chest just everything about him. He looks like Polydeuces but just so so much better. Brilliant design def one of my favs in the series.

#asks #wildcard-rumi #persona 3 #fuck it main tag #good lord i went crazy #and im about to go crazy with the next ask too LMAOOOO #literally never ask me about persona designs i will not shut up #but yeah i love sees persona so much #they might not be as cool overall as the thieves personas but god damn do they hit hard #i dont mean to shit on polydeuces so much LMAOO i just really think its ugly 😭#can y'all tell which ones are my favs LMAOOO #im also attached to mitsuru's personas just because ive spent a lot of time studying them for reasons ehehe #but yeah thank you for the ask rui!! bet you weren't expecting this long an answer LMAOOO #i really hope i didnt forget anyone that would be embarrassing af #also before anyone says anything i left out metis deliberately I'll get to her in a minute

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cranberrydietcoke · 1 month ago

Text

bride to be - father charlie mayhew

content: 18+ !! mdni !! father charlie mayhew x female reader, coercion/dubcon, religious guilt, degradation and praise, slapping, crying, fingering, abuse of power, innocent!virgin!reader, toxic!pervy! charlie, oral (m receiving), p in v, unprotected (don’t be dumb yall), kinda breeding, size kink if u get a microscope

wc: 4.8k (sry i went a lil crazy)

a/n: hi yall this is literally my first fanfic ever ! drew some inspo from @hoffmansgirl @tokyoghls & @lucyisdoingfine

sundays were your favorite days. you were a good little church mouse. eager to serve. eager to please, always wearing white to early morning service. it was evidence of your innocence. father charlie always says your innocence is precious. valuable. your bible study together always left you so impressed, how a man can look at one paragraph and be able to take away so much. you had reached out to a deacon at the church, inquiring about some guidance in the word, expecting to be put in contact with a nun-in-training with less important things to do. that’s how you wound up in the priest’s office every sunday night. he said he needed to ‘connect more with his congregants.’ he knew you would believe it, and so would your parents.

the calming bustle of churchgoers finding their seats was abruptly cut off by the deep, layered boom of the organ, signaling the beginning of the service. you shift in the wooden pew, brushing your dark curls over your shoulder and adjusting the lace strap of your dress, preparing your heart to hear the word of god. the vibrations rattled deep within your chest, making you clutch the diamond cross adorning the center of it. the spotlight snapped on, an oval of light encompassing the priest as he eyed the pews almost nonchalantly, his vacant eyes wandering as he approached the pulpit, clearing his throat.

“brothers and sisters, we serve a just god,” his veiny hands gripped the worn oak of the stand, turning pale red as he supported himself, leaning forward toward the parishioners. you sat in the front row, eyes wide and glazed over as if you were looking at the god he spoke of.

“confront the reality of your desire, of your sin. because as we see in his word this morning, the wage of our sin is death.” he paused, letting out a heavy breath and loudly thumping his bible before shooting his empty gaze at you.

“what would your heart look like,” his chest fell ever so slightly, almost defeatedly, “when stripped naked before a holy god?”

charlie knew he was preaching to himself, coddling his guilt with verses as he always did. this wasn’t a message for the church, but rather for him. desire was a reality he needed to confront. the service slipped by as you hurriedly took notes in pink glitter gel script with doodles lining the sides. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚romans 6*:ꔫ:*+ﾟ.

“the lord be with you”

“and with your spirit”

applying a fresh layer of lip gloss, gathering your bible and smoothing the back of your dress, you and your mother shuffle out of the pew. your shoes tapping on the marble as you all headed towards the stained-glass doors where father charlie stood talking to the other congregants as they left.

“mrs y/l/n, always good to see you.” he remarked, giving a venerating nod toward your mother as the two of you stopped in front of him.

“father, beautiful service as always.” she said through a smile, leaning in to give quick air kisses on each side of his face. she looooved her some father charlie. you really are your mothers daughter. “so hows bible study goin’ with you two?” she mused, motioning to the both of you limply with her hand before placing it on her hip. his eyes snapped to yours, hands clasped behind his back as he anticipated your words, searching for reassurance in your expression.

“very well. we’ve been going through the old testament, some hard stuff. she’s a good listener.” he replied. your face stayed neutral, but inside, your nerves were tangling into knots.

“did you see both of christie’s girls got engaged? and joe’s daughter. got me thinking about y/n, her future.” your mother went on. charlie gave you a stern look as you rolled your eyes and hid your face in your hands.

“she has a lot to learn still. being a wife, i-i can’t say she’s ready. she’s so blessed to have the guidance of a godly man like you. just, uh, help her out.” she continued with a cheeky smile, patting the priest on his bicep.

now twirling a piece of hair between your fingers, you steal a passing glance at the father as your mom ushers you through the front door. “i’ll see you at seven, okay?” his finger hovered down at you.

“y-yes father! see you tonight!” you called out, voice growing fainter as you were dragged away and out into the sunlight.

the last few months had been excruciating for him. every saturday night, he dreamt about what white dress you would choose to wear, what fragrance you would spritz on your neck. he had gotten you more comfortable over time. you were showing your personality, asking more questions, confessing more sins. he loved it when you confessed. he got high on the essence of your pure shame and desperation, pleading for help on what to do, crying to him about how guilty you were. he wrote about you in his sermons, dreamt about you, imagined you bent over his desk begging for it harder. this could be his opportunity to make a real woman out of you. your mother’s words echoed in his mind as he wandered through the convent. he was determined to make you the perfect godly wife.

the orange hue of the sunset beamed through the windows on each side of the chapel, casting shadows that danced with the movement of the trees and birds flying by. the bright white of your lace-lined dress in the sunlight nearly blinded charlie as he emerged from a side door, hidden away by velvet curtains.

“y/n, just on time, as always.” his welcome was steady and warm as he approached nearer, a hint of a smile touching his lips.

the parallel clicks of his red leather boots and your kitten heels filled the still air of the room, each step slicing through the reverent silence.

“of course father, i wouldn’t miss it” you answered, looking up at him as you walked side by side to his office. his hand found its way to the nape of your neck as he led you, the softness of your tan skin and the scent of vanilla nearly making his eyes flutter. he was so wrong for this, but he didn’t care. you had to learn one way or another.

you took your usual seat in the black leather chair opposite him, only separated by a large wooden desk. bookshelves lined the walls. a small crucifix hang in the empty space above his seat. he sat, flicking around a ballpoint pen and thumbing through his bible which sat open on the desk.

“so,” he sighed as he leaned back in the chair, legs spread as his hands glided over the thigh of his black dress pants, “tonight’s one is really important. i took some time to think about what your mother said, and i agree." he nodded, "i think a girl of your age is ready to learn.” his pointer finger tapped slowly on his right knee.

“yes, father. i think so too. i just don’t even know where to start.”

“well that’s where i come in,” he smiled, not like when he welcomed you in, it was different. almost predatory. “that’s why i’m here, my child.” your eyes were glued to the floor, while his were busy surveying the curve of your hips as you sat. so soft. so perfect.

“what book are we gonna be in, father?” you asked absentmindedly, your long lashes brushing against your cheeks with each unhurried blink. you got comfortable in your seat as you opened your bible, pink faux leather full of sticky notes and neon-highlighted prophecies, promises, and judgments.

“we’ll actually be flipping back and forth a bit tonight,” he explained, clearing his throat and adjusting his papers. “the goal here is that you leave feeling prepared to be a wife, one that serves the lord, and her husband. do you understand?”

you nodded, your glossy eyes locked with his. “good. can you go to colossians 3 verse 18 and read that for me, please, sweetheart?”

“wives, submit yourselves unto your husbands, as is fitting in the lord.” you read.

“yes, submission. the definition is skewed nowadays.” he muttered, waving his pen around musingly. “christ did submit to father god, although the son has no less authority. you see?” he leaned forward, gripping the edge of his desk to stand up, circling to your side, bible in hand.

“go to first corinthians chapter 7, it says ‘the husband should fulfill his marital duty to his wife, and likewise the wife to her husband.” he chuckled lightly as you highlighted the verse in lavender. this poor girl has no fucking clue, he thought as he slid his papal ring off. that’s what drew him to you in the first place. he reclined against the side of the desk, legs crossed at the ankle.

“what does that mean father? how will the duties of a godly woman change once she’s married?” your pitch heightening with each question. “like cooking and cleaning? are they the same for bo-“ with a raised hand, he stopped you in your words.

“yes, y/n, yes. you’re eager aren’t you?” he breathed out, a wide grin plastered on his face. “it does include domestic things but also emotional things. honest communication, faithfulness…and physical things too.” he traced his words as he looked at you, “that’s what really changes when you get married.”

his eyes lit up as your jaw went slack at the realization of what he meant.

“oh…i see.” your shoulders slumping and eyes drifting to the marble floor. he could feel the disappointment in your sigh.

“where’d that smile go, sweet girl? what’s wrong?” he chided, a faux frown on his face.

“i just, that’s- i don’t know.” you huffed, “how am i supposed to know what to do on my wedding night? it’s just so unfair. an-and scary!”

“well,” he let out a shallow breath, reaching out to tuck a silky strand of stray hair behind your ear, “i can help you with that too, sweetheart. if you let me.” his fingers curled around the nape of your neck, steady and with purpose. his eyes bore into you as he tilted his head, attempting to coax your gaze up towards him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet them. the foreign heartbeat between your legs became a knotted bundle in your stomach, making you squeeze your thighs together. he traced his index finger down your collarbone, gripping the chain of your necklace between his fingers. he stopped, thumbing at the karats of your crucifix, lost in thought.

he drops the charm with cold indifference, then turns, pacing in circles. “first corinthians seven- thirty four. a married woman is concerned about the affairs of this world, how to please her husband.” the bass in his voice snapped you out of your daze, finally looking up to return frantic little nods and blinks.

“right, o-okay. but father,” you said, lowering your voice ,“i’m not married.” your eyes scanned around dramatically as if to search for witnesses, “we-we’re not married.”

he neared you, placing both hands on each arm of the leather chair, trapping you in. “we can pretend, okay? this’ll be how we conduct our lessons.” he could feel the heat of your breath mixing with the strawberry on your lips. “your mother said you have a lot to learn.” he said almost accusingly, but full of pity. “no more questions, sweet thing. i’m here to guide you, remember?” his words were coated in a nauseating sweetness, seeping into your impressionable mind and persuading you to trust him.

the scent of his cologne was overpowering, making the glossy stain in your baby pink cotton panties worsen. he was only inches away, his shadow encapsulating you as his eyes roamed your face, gauging every reaction as he carefully crept his fingers to play with the lace hem of your dress. sunday’s best.

“have you ever touched yourself, y/n?”

your breath caught in your throat. maybe this would have felt different from the safe shadows of a booth, but this confession was much different. embarrassment sent warmth rushing to your cheeks as you looked through father charlie rather than at him. you nodded your head, “only once.” you spoke, a broken kind of whisper. he was tracing spirals into your thigh, immediately pausing after hearing that you, the purest little flower he’d ever known, had snuck under her nightgown to play with her pussy. immediately and without moving his head, his eyes flicked up, a sick smile curling on his lips.

“you poor thing…you didn’t cum?” he said with faux sympathy. your eyes widened, almost popping out of your head, as the cross resting just above your cleavage swayed with each breath. up and down. up and down. you shook your head, tears of vulnerability stung in your eyes. “hey…hey. it’s okay! we all start somewhere, right?” he cooed, almost manic as his hand raised to pass a thumb over your blushed cheek. “i promise by the end of our sessions you’ll feel prepared, yeah? the duties of marriage include knowing your own body. and your husbands. that’s not a problem, is it?” his fingers laced with yours, thumbs tracing the valleys of your knuckles. your hand was so small in his.

“if that’s what the lord calls me to do, i have to listen.” you choke out, a single tear falling down onto the freckles of your thighs. he had never given you a reason to be afraid, but you were, the heaviness on your chest becoming unbearable.

after a long pause and a heavy sigh he whispered, “i knew you would be a good girl, so obedient,” wiping the stain from your face. “get on your knees for me, like you’re gonna pray.” he mumbled, drunk off his own words. hesitantly, you rose and knelt to the floor, palms flat on your thighs as your frightened gaze fixed on the man before you. a man of god. a man you could trust.

“let’s get some practice in, okay?”

his voice was soft but left you understanding you had no say in it. he bent down, his fingers gently hooking the straps of your dress, sliding them slowly down your shoulders until the fabric gathered at your waist. you watched him as he did so, his frenzied eyes not matching the tenderness of his touch. he groans at the sight of your barely covered chest, lace and gems adorning your push-up bra. he undid his buttons with a swiftness you’ve never seen before, now shirtless in front of you.

standing upright, he delivers two tiny taps to your jaw. light, but deliberate. urging you to open up. this was okay. you were husband and wife. the clinking of his belt being slipped off just sounded like wedding bells to you. by the time he shimmied and stepped out of his pants, you were spellbound - mind soft and yielding, ready to mold to whoever he needed you to be.

your mouth lay half open, satin tongue hanging over your bottom lip and leaving it with a glossy sheen. standing over you, he grasped your jaw, tilting it up to guide you as he released a string of spit that connected his lips to your tongue as he hummed in approval. he clasped his thumbs on the band of his briefs until they fell around his ankles, freeing himself. your tears multiplied as you saw the inches slap onto his v line, twitching and bobbing in the air.

“see, this is your fault. open up real wide f’me.” he huffed as his thumb went to align himself with your mouth, tapping the tip on your tongue. a confused whimper escaped your gaping mouth as he pushed his length further in. musk and salt sat on your tastebuds as he instructed you to tuck your lips, collecting your hair in his fist as you tried to gloss his entire dick with spit. he started off slow, seeing you furrow your brows and gag, looking up at him for approval. he thrust into you as he guided your head, the grip on your hair making your scalp burn. your moans of protest were muffled as he fucked your face, tears now streaming down your chest. you tried pushing at his thighs, digging your almond french tips into the muscle, but it only made him go harder.

“nuh-uh, you’re gonna have to learn.”

as his head massaged the back ridges of your throat, his large hands cupped each side of your head with a commanding grasp, forcing the tip of your nose to meet his happy trail and holding you in place. his chest glistened with sweat, heaving as he looked down at you with absent eyes. the room was humid as your nose drew in wet, shaky breaths, gagging around this thick length.

“do you see now, why i have to do this to you?” he cooed, looking down as you struggled to breathe, blowing bubbles of slobber that collected at the base of his shaft. your face screwed as you sobbed and squirmed on the cold floor, dick down your throat. “you’re wildly unprepared.” he hissed, shaking his head, unimpressed. “look at you,” he spat, pulling you off, leaving you gasping for air as if each inhale would be the last. “why fight it?” grabbing your cheeks, causing your lips to pucker, all swollen and slick. you flinched at his touch. “a good wife isn’t supposed to be defiant. we just read that.” he scoffed, “i don’t even think you were paying attention.”

you clenched your eyes shut to avoid looking up at him, just shaking your head. “i was, i promise i was!” you attempted to cry out, but all that escaped was whiny mumbles.

“no, no, look me in the face. give me some fucking respect,” he muttered, tightening his grip on your jaw, yanking it close. you forced your eyes open to meet his. breath hot on your lips, he was growing visibly more impatient. his irises were pure black, like that of a shark. one that could sniff out innocent little girls like human blood.

“i see righttttt through you, tryna hide behind your rosary, your psalms, your fucking dresses.” he mocked, hand leaving your face to tug the remainder of the lace mess down your legs, leaving you in your bra and panties. “but i see you. i see what kind of slut you are. looking up at me in the pew, coming to my office until well after sundown. fuckin’ asking for it.” he stepped back, his narrow eyes examining you in disgust.

“father- no i just, please,” you choked out, shame turning into stickiness between your legs.

“please?! please what? i’m exposing your sin!” his voice rose to a yell, dragging his hands down his face before gesturing toward you dismissively as you sat motionless on the floor. “no manners whatsoever,” he sighed out. your face dropped as he tapped the wood of his desk. “come, sit. spread those legs.” he commanded.

without thought, you rise from the floor and take a seat where he had told you to, ankles dangling in the air as you shyly open your thighs. anything to make him happy again. he bends over, gently running two fingers over your clothed pussy, noticing a wet mark right in the middle. “oh wow, i knew you wanted this,” he chuckled, holding one leg open while the other rubbed circles into your panties. “so wet, so ready.”

hiding your face in your hands, you watched through your fingers as he focused on the growing puddle in the fabric of your underwear, attention solely between your legs. “this is the y/n i know…mhm.. always so good for me. i don’t know what got into you, huh?” he hummed. you could feel his words on the inside of your thigh as he continued to study you, making you whimper. before you could question anything, he was sliding the boyshorts past your knees, whispering praises as you kicked them off.

“fuck,” he moaned out, breathlessly admiring you while running his hands up your stomach to your chest. he traced the wire of your bra to the back, unclasping it with a pop and discarding it on the floor. your tiny, uneven breaths filled the air, giving way to quiet moans under his touch. he glided his hands on the underside of your thighs, spreading you gently with his index and middle fingers.

“awh, my pretty pink girl. so pure.” he spoke almost to himself as he bent over, playing in your folds. deep down, you knew you shouldn’t let him do this. but it felt so good. and he knew best, right?

his fingers ran the wetness up and down your pussy before working in his middle finger, forcing you to hear yourself, how bad you really did want this. you gasped, sitting up on your hands and looking down at the priest who was now pumping his whole finger into you. words tangled on your tongue, babbling and moaning with furrowed brows.

“ohh my god,” you managed to squeak out. he softly shook his head, never slowing down his pace.

“no, baby. just me n’ you.”

he pulled his finger out, making you clench at the emptiness. encircling your slit, he lined up a second finger, slowly stuffing it into your leaky pink hole. you cried out, digging your nails into the wood of the desk and writhing against him. twisting his fingers in you, he started to speak. “this is the next step in becoming a real adult, y/n. as your priest, i have a responsibility….” his free hand dug into your hip, holding you in place to stop your squirming, “a responsibility to make sure you’re educated on certain things. ready for the real world.”

his fingers continued their assault on your pussy, fucking you open as your feet stirred aimlessly in the air, helpless and overwhelmed. “father f-fuckk i - ” you stuttered, attention being brought back to reality by a rough slap, one so hard it caused your ear to ring. your fingers trembled against your burning cheek, lips parted and eyes wide with panic.

“watch your fucking language, how do you expect to find a husband with a mouth like that?” he huffed, removing his hands from you completely. how ironic. you sniffled and nodded, pushing yourself up, wanting to bridge the distance left by his absent touch. his thumb gripped your chin, guiding your eyes to his. “i think you’re ready though, don’t you?” his fat tip was now rubbing up and down your petals, as you babbled i can’ts and i dunno’s.

he lay his length against your stomach, touching your belly button, perversely rubbing it against the smooth of your skin. you rolled your hips against the desk, staring up at him. “will it fit?” you mewled, cupping your heavy tits in your hands and pressing them together. you were learning so well. he led himself to circle your clit, collecting your glaze and spreading it around. you threatened to cry out, the only thing stopping you being the sharp bite on your bottom lip.

“yes angel, i’ll make it fit…just a part of it” he breathed out, softly pressing his lips to your forehead. “this is what husbands and wives do..” trailing off, trying to distract you as he stuffed the tip in.

your gasps and whimpers of discomfort subsided to pornographic moans as he slowly worked himself in, bucking himself against you until there was nothing left to fit. cradling the back of your head in both hands, he forced you to watch yourself get filled up as he stretched you with slow, grinding movements. you brought your knees to your chest, spreading yourself more for him, little ah ah ah’s drifting from your tongue.

“thaat’s my girlll,” he hissed, knowing he was holding back. “now..” he paused, making you squirm your hips in search of friction, hands still entrapping your skull, eyes piercing yours, “i’m gonna fuck you stupid, okay? and you’re gonna be grateful.” his soothing tone not matching the brutality of his words.

your head nodded mechanically with a vacant stare, mouth agape. maybe it was a good thing your priest was taking your virginity. he was a man of god, after all. his grip on your scalp tightened as he repeatedly slammed into you, hitting that deep, spongy spot that had never been touched before. he angled you to watch every stroke, pressing on the bulge in your lower tummy. “you see that, dumb girl? does that feel good?” he grunted out, filling the room with sloppy noises each time he thrust into you.

“y-yess, soo good,” you squealed, leaving a creamy ring around his shaft.

another slap. but he refused to let up on your cunt, quickening his pace and violently snapping his hips against the back of your thighs. tears welled in the corner of your eyes as you got filled up.

“yes who?” he demanded, almost growling as he pressed his chest to your legs, folding you in half.

“yes fatherr, feels so so good, pleasepleaseplease,” you had no clue what you were even begging for at this point. his length was relentlessly sliding in and out, beating up your cervix.

“mhm, our little secret. our little fucking secret,” he whispered on repeat. like a mantra. a perverted one-on-one devotional. his hands, large and assuming, glided over your body before finding your throat, squeezing both sides. waves of pleasure washed over you, eyes rolling into the back of your head. “hnnmpphh- i can’t, please- it’s too much,” your hands rake at the muscle of his chest, searching for any mercy.

“ohh, sweet thing, you’ve been taking it so well.” he soothed, finally slowing down for only a moment, “no fussing, just cum for me.”

he immediately resumed brutalizing you, thumb circling your swollen clit. both legs spasmed as you came undone, juices leaking down onto the polished wood. any rational thought had left your brain, as a matter of fact, so had any thought at all. your absent, glassy eyes crossed and rolled with each motion, eyebrows knitting together in a blissful frown. he moaned shakily, making sure you felt every inch.

“tell me what god said to noah after the flood.” he grunted out, lips ghosting over yours, hand still tight on your neck. you were barely coherent, essentially speaking in tongues. a harsh slap landed to your cheek, jolting you into reality from the haze of your orgasm.

“c’mon kid, genesis 9, stay with me,” he snapped.

“be fruitful…” you yelped, straining through clenched teeth and a constricted airway, cupping your cheek, “increase in number, fill the earth.”

“mhm, we’re gonna make him proud, okay?” he coaxed you to agree. he knows you’re too braindead to comprehend, just obediently nodding your little head to whatever he asks.

“gonna give you my cum till it takes,” he pants out, loosening to grip on your throat to lock his hands to your hips, guiding your body up and down his inches with relentless force. your head bobbing loosely as he slammed into you over and over and over again. “god, fuck- gonna put a fuckin’ baby in you,” his hips stuttered, spilling his seed into you and pounding it deep into your cervix.

pulling himself out with a sigh, he watched with hooded lids as his cum dripped out of you in pearlescent globs. his hands smoothed the mess of hair on your head, sealing it with a tiny kiss before cleaning you up and retrieving your panties from the floor without words. his hands enveloped your waist, lifting you effortlessly to your feet beside the desk as your knees faltered. he bent down, holding open the legs of the undergarment for you to step in, gripping onto his shoulder for balance as you do so. next the dress. then the heels, sitting you in the black leather chair as he slides them onto each foot, clasping your ankle strap before placing a wet kiss to each knee. a small act of worship.

“my little bride-to-be...” he whispers, now standing over you, caressing your smooth skin with his thumb, trying to drink in the hollow stillness in your head.

“same time next sunday, alright?”

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