Just feeding my hyper fixation by writing some Ghost smut.
She/Her 40+
All my smut is also on AO3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Danse_Macabre_Ballerina
Don't be fooled by the goofy memes...This blog is mostly 18+ Explicit NSFW horny-ass shit, so NO MINORS
*All of these and more are also on my AO3*
MY ASKS ARE ALWAYS OPEN! (As long as you don't mind waiting 6 months for me to answer) Ask me questions, give me feedback, make special requests, feed me prompts, or aimlessly ramble about whatever.
Just please be kind, I am from the 1900s and I am fragile.
I'll write about any Papa, Mary Goore, or even the occasional Ghoul. (I'll happily write about TF too if you ask, but I don't post rpf fics here.)
I am most comfortable writing for female main characters or readers, but I'll do gender neutral if you prefer. And as far as kinks go there is almost nothing that makes me too uncomfortable, but I will respectfully decline if it's something I don't know enough about to do it justice.
And let me know if you want to be added to my taglist. You can request specific Papas or tropes too.
Full list of fics under the cut...
Click on the masterlists for fic summaries and links
Primo/Papa I Masterlist
Bleeding Heart (971 words) TW Blood
Summer Rain (1,260 words)
Eyes On Me (2,031 words) TW Anxiety
Tossed Salad (1,361 words)
Our Love Is Perennial (2,151 words)
Fiore Di Neve (1,055 words)
Secondo/Papa II Masterlist
Stay With Me (3,384 words)
Bookmark (1,609 words)
Sound Check (815 words)
A Close Shave (643 words)
Mia Ragazza Tosta (902 words) TW Dom/Sub, BDSM, Rough Stuff
Blood Moon (2,539 words) TW Blood
Giveth And Taketh (2,435 words) TW Rough Stuff
Romanzo D'Inverno (3,092 words)
Terzo/Papa III Masterlist
An Unholy Proposal (7,402 words)
Sacrifice On The Altar (4,660 words)
Moonlight Cenotaph (6,725 words)
Bound To Him (5,318 words) TW Past S/A
Lamb To The Slaughter (4,416 words)
Exploring The Dark (7,457 words)
Hello, We Are Ghost (5,648 words)
Body Language (1,444 words)
Hold Me Now (858 words)
Sky Is Falling (977 words) TW Earthquake, Blood
Behave (1,282 words) TW Sub/Dom, Rough Stuff
Use Your Pretty Words (909 words) TW Sub/Dom
Red Venus (1,588 words) TW Blood
Papa Terzo (1,557 words) TW Pregnancy
Stella Matina (2,265 words) TW Childbirth Complications/Surgery
Yours To Lose (2,925 words) TW Rough Stuff
Just As You Are (1,568 words) TW Body Image Issues/Weight Gain
Overtime (1,785 words)
Bella Afrodite (1,874 words)
Wait For Me (1,126 words)
Colomba Del Mattino (1,120 words)
Stall Tactics (1,521 words) TW Sub/Dom, Rough Stuff
Thigh High (1,461 words) TW Sub/Dom, Collaring
Hands Are The Heart's Landscape (900 words) TW Con Somnophilia
On The Hunt (1,548 words) TW Mild Sub/Dom
My Sweet Adversary (4,525 words) TW Rough Stuff, Dub Con
Cure Amorevoli (3,980 words)
Break The Arrow (3,303 words)
Dust And Shadow (3,080 words) TW Masterzobation?
Cardinal Copia/Papa IV/Frater Imperator Masterlist
Pour Your Pain Into Me (6,332 words)
Blood Lust (2,251 words) TW Blood
Embracing Infatuation (6,655 words)
Surrender To Temptation (6,003 words)
A Lesson In Sin (6,406 words)
You Are Mine (4,844 words)
Second Chance At Ascension (4,104 words)
Rite Of Passage (5,628 words)
Eruption and Absolution (1,255 words) TW Con Non-Con, Rough Stuff
Growing Pains (1,514 words) TW Con Non-Con, Rough Stuff
Bleed For Me (3,054 words) TW Blood
Bath Time (1,226 words)
Negotiation (409 words)
Negotiation 2 (778 words) TW Rough Stuff
Papa Down (1,253 words)
Game Over (1,045 words)
Eat Your Words (910 words)
Take Five (1,275 words)
Wild Ride (6,939 words)
Mia Dea (1,050 words) TW Pregnancy
In The Heat Of The Night (4,523 words) TW Rough Stuff
Just A Crush (2,508 words)
Duty Calls (1,150 words)
Attrazione Immediata (7,075 words)
Time For Two (1,423 words)
Be My Forever (2,250 words)
Benvenuti A Casa (3,626 words)
Love Long Distance (7,338 words) TW Intoxication
All Work No Play (6,690 words)
Tell The Truth (6,249 words)
Date Night (1,446 words) TW Intoxication
Another Date Night (1,568 words)
Scary Movie (625 words)
Worship With Me (1,796 words)
The Cardinal's Cane (883 words)
Attitude Adjustment (1,030 words)
Bella Ghuleh (2,856 words)
Ready For My Close-Up (1,294 words)
Dream Weaver (3,778 words) TW Mild Somnophilia, Voyeurism
A Special Request (2,871 words)
Standoff (1,793 words) TW Rough Stuff, Con Non Con
Too Shy To Say (2,564 words)
Untamed Pleasure (2,038 words)
Animal Instincts (1,412 words)
Brava Ballerina (1,702 words)
Read To Me (1,649 words)
Wet Dream (1,256 words)
Victory Lap (6,290 words) TW Mild Somnophilia
Fallen Petals (572 words)
Frater Ephemerus (1,681 words)
The Taste Of You (1,373 words) TW Autism/Arfid
Here Comes Frater Cottontail (3,039 words)
Perpetua/Papa V Masterlist
Purple Rain (2,323 words) TW Blood
The Calm During The Storm (839 words)
Gazza Ladra, Part 1 (1,681 words)
Gazza Ladra, Part 2 (1,446 words)
Creature Crush (1,251 words)
Your Eyes Only (1,487 words)
Hide and Seek (4,055 words)
Coffee Break (1,647 words)
Mine To Protect (6,474 words) TW Attempted SA, Violence
Tummy Troubles (646 words)
Non-Fiction Friction (1,354 words)
Any Way The Wind Blows (4,350 words)
Closing Time (1,934 words)
Tender Confession (1,305 words)
A Score To Settle (1,594 words) TW Rough Stuff
Evening The Score (654 words)
The Papa Who Could Fly (4,804 words)
Time Out (1,066 words)
A Happy Homecoming (1,091 words)
A Tender Reprimand (2,400 words) TW Light BDSM
A Reluctant Goodbye (1,889 words) TW Rough Stuff
You Hold The Key (2,780 words) TW Terzo is Dead, Rough Stuff
My Sweet Boy (845 words)
Midnight Snack (992 words)
Love On The Road (5,897 words)
Backstage Pass (2,056 words)
Home Cooking (1,643 words)
Salvation In Submission (2,411 words) TW Dom/Sub
Play It Again (5,260 words) TW Blood
A Free Heart (3,124 words)
Love To Keep Me Warm (2,291 words)
What You Need (2,438 words) TW Gratuitous Rough Stuff
In My Eyes (1,694 words)
Tutor Privatus (1,836 words)
Rainbow Tour (1,201 words) TW Mild Somnophelia
Playing Doctor (1,008 words) TW Sub/Dom, Inspection Kink
The Monster Inside Me (3,254 words) TW Blood, Dub Con
Room Service (4,106 words) TW Mild Somnophilia
Creature Comfort (1,390 words) TW Menstruation
Cardinal Peep-petua (2,191 words) TW Voyeurism
Travel Companion (2,905 words) TW Monsterfucking
Sweet Dreams (869 words) TW Somnophilia
Multi-Papas, Pick-Your Papa, and Miscellaneous Masterlist
*Multis involve gangbang and tag-team scenarios, never any of the Papas sexually engaging with each other. If you are into that, that's fine, this is a judgement-free zone...but I a not into that myself.
Tango For Three (5,030 words) *Copia, Terzo TW Dubious Con/Non-Con, Rough Stuff
Resolution (5,695 words) *Copia, Perpetua
The Game (3,664 words) *Copia, Primo, Secondo, Terzo
All The Time (5,232 words) *Copia, Terzo
Night Watch (719 words) *Terzo, Perpetua TW Accidental Voyeurism, Non-Con Masturbation
Sushi Night (1,984 words) *Terzo, Copia
Pas de Trois: Adagio (895 words) *Copia, Perpetua
Pas de Trois: Coda (4,012 words) *Copia, Perpetua
Completely Pleased (2,048 words) *Copia, Dewdrop, Rain TW Tentacle Sex
Dangerous Curves Ahead (1,807 words) *Terzo, Copia
Perfect Pet (5,521 words) *Perpetua, Secondo TW Sub/Dom, Rough Stuff, Blood/Injury
It's A Beautiful Sky (2,713 words) *All Papa and more! SMUT FREE!
Three Tiny Titty Ditties (2,164 words) *Terzo, Copia, Mary Goore
Blood Monday (1,611 words) *Pick-Your-Papa TW Blood
Bedside Manner (1,929 words) *Copia, Terzo
Wild Horses (853 words) *Pick-Your-Papa TW Sub/Dom, Pain
And Papa Makes Three (2,120 words) *Perpetua, Dewdrop
Blood Brothers (1,682 words) *Copia, Perpetua TW Blood
Blood Brothers: Epilogue (324 words) *Copia, Perpetua
Tender In Tandem (3,753 words) *Mary Goore, Perpetua
Chasing Waterfalls (1,507 words) *Pick-Your-Papa
Take Me To The Bone Room (801 words) *Dewrdrop
A Lesson In Mating (4,151 words) *Copia, Perpetua
On A Hot Summr Night (2,469 words) *Copia, Perpetua
Mary Goore Masterlist
Bloody Mary (1,795 words) TW Blood
Haunt Me (1,196 words)
Haunt Me Again (1,880 words)
Silent Treatment (491 words)
A Bad Trip (1,681 words) TW Drug Use
House Chores (1,199 words)
Sweet Revenge (2,034 words)
A Very Mary Christmas (1,805 words) TW Unplanned Pregnancy
Christmas With The Goores (1,787 words)
Nyårsafton (713 words)
Snötäckt (2,208 words)
Breakfast For Dinner (1,547 words)
Addicted To You (3,887 words)
Back Together (1,604 words)
Modersmjölk (1,106 words) TW Lactation
My Bloody Valentine (1,385 words) TW Blood
Mogen Persika (3,401 words)
Vattensporter (1,742 words)
Broom Service (1,277 words)
Födelsedagsöverraskning (2.043 words)
Morgonöverraskning (1,368 words) TW Mild Somnophilia
Mary Godmother (1,601 words)
Beneath The Blood (1,644 words)
Hitting Snooze (2,248 words)
I Varmt Vatten (3,870 words) TW Domestic Violence
Min Lilla Blodkorv (2,230 words) TW Blood
Old Faithful (1,032 words)
Manèges Renversées (3,916 words)
Bakdörr (1,369 words)
Kundservice (2,734 words)
Vargens Kläder (2,459 words)
🌔Moon Over The Ministry🌒
January 3rd: Wolf Moon (5,632 words)*Werewolf!Perpetua x fem!afab!reader TW Kidnapping, Dub Con, Monsterfucking
February 1st: Snow Moon (1,975 words) *Secondo x fem!afab!reader
March 3rd: Worm Moon (1,540 words) *Primo x fem!afab!reader TW Blood, Dub Con
April 1st: Pink Moon (2,642 words) *Dewdrop Ghoul x fem!afab!reader TW Tentacle Sex
May 1st: Flower Moon (3,917 words) *Deacon!Terzo x fem!afab!reader
May 31st: Blue Moon (3,727 words) *Cardinal!Copia x fem!afab!reader
Random Ghostie Thoughts
⚪ Sore Sex ⚪ About Me ⚪ Papa Boners ⚪ Lube ⚪
⚪ Skeledancers ⚪ My Kinks ⚪ Poopoopetua ⚪ OCs ⚪
⚪ Mira ⚪ Terzo and the Female Orgasm ⚪ 2025 Recap ⚪
⚪ Mary "Dry Humping" Goore ⚪ 'Tesora' Is Not A Word ⚪
⚪ Pussy Eatin' Papas ⚪ Public Sex ⚪ Ministry BBQ Day ⚪
⚪ Happy Birthday!...Love, Papa ⚪ C and V Like Boobs! ⚪
⚪ Satanic Stories From The Streets ⚪
I know it has been talked about before but I don't see any harm on thinking about it some more but Secondo ciricing people
jen, i was feeling kind of normal today but now i certainly don't anymore. actually, there is conclusive evidence that this would be a life-changing experience. he couldn't even recruit me for his evil sexy cult because i'd die on the spot.
having you pussy eaten because you deserve it and he wants you to feel good but also enduring having you pussy eaten because he feels a deep hunger and desperate need for you
Mira is mysteriously summoned to the Ministry by Papa Emeritus III, and she realizes immediately that his motivations are purely carnal.
This is a throwback to my second time writing one of these. A bit rough, a bit wordy, but it's pretty darn smutty so enjoy.
[Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Church Sex, Fingering, Orgasm Denial, Edging, Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, Rough Sex, P in V Sex, Aftercare, Romantic Fluff]
Read on AO3
.
The Ministry loomed before her, its imposing structure a testament to the darkness that lay within. The air was heavy with the scent of incense and something sweetly metallic, like the tang of blood on the tongue. Candles flickered, casting eerie shadows on the walls as the sound of distant chanting seemed to vibrate through every cell in her body. The ground beneath her feet was cold, damp stone, and she could feel the weight of the church's infamous history bearing down upon her. As she stepped inside, the doors creaked shut behind her, enveloping her in an oppressive silence that seemed to swallow all sound.
This was not Mira's first foray into the dark world of the Ministry. She'd been there several times before to meet with various members of the Clergy and always found them surprisingly pleasant and professional, not at all the way people in town talked about them in hushed tones. But today she was trembling with anticipation. The leader of the Ministry, Papa Emeritus III himself had asked to meet with her personally. His reputation was whispered in either terrified awe or primal desire, and the thought of being alone with him, especially not knowing the reason he had summoned her, left her entire body feeling like an exposed nerve.
She struggled to see in the dimly lit surroundings, and her brown eyes gleamed with an inner light. She he had always been secretly drawn to the darker side, the side that pulsed with a raw, unbridled desire. She could feel the anticipation building inside her, a slow-burning fire that threatened to consume her at any moment. As she nervously anticipated her meeting with the new Papa her thoughts were a jumble of erotic fantasies and morbid curiosity, and she couldn't help but wonder what secrets the church held, what depravities lay hidden behind its crumbling facade. As she breathed in, the scent of incense filled her lungs, and she felt her heart rate quicken, her senses came alive with expectation.
In the shadows, a figure watched her with a predatory stare, his presence seeming to fill the entire space. His eyes, piercing and cold, seemed to bore into her very soul, and she could feel his gaze like a physical touch, a caress that sent shivers down her spine. The air seemed to vibrate with tension as he began to move towards her, his footsteps echoing off the stone walls, and she felt her heart stumble, her breath catch in her throat as she wondered what lay ahead, what would he unleash upon her. She felt herself being drawn into his world of sin and she offered no resistance.
As Papa Emeritus III drew closer, his silhouette emerged from the shadows, revealing an imposing figure draped in a bejeweled robe that seemed to absorb the dim light, his face painted as the face of death, equal parts angular, seductive, and strangely beautiful. The intensity of his gaze was undeniable, like a physical weight pressing against her. He stopped a mere whisper away, still not uttering a word, close enough for her to feel the heat radiating from his body, to catch the faint scent of his cologne. She could see the glint of his eyes now, one green, one white, like twin embers burning in the depths of hell, and she felt an inexplicable urge to reach out, to touch the face hidden beneath the paint, to make sure he was real. But she held back, frozen in place, her curiosity warring with the instinctual fear that told her to flee.
He reached out, his gloved hand moving with a deliberateness that made her heart pound. She braced herself, her breath hitching as his fingers brushed against her cheek, tracing the line of her jaw with a touch that was surprisingly gentle. She could feel the warm leather of his gloves and she wondered what forbidden pleasures they held. His thumb brushed against her lower lip, and she felt a jolt of electricity at the contact, a spark that ignited a fire deep within her. She parted her lips slightly, her tongue darting out to taste the pad of his gloved thumb, and she saw his white eye flicker, the only sign that her boldness had affected him. He leaned in closer, his voice a low, husky growl that seemed to resonate in the very core of her being. "Tonight, little one," he murmured, "we indulge in the darkest of desires."
As he spoke, his voice a velvety rumble that seemed to resonate through every fiber of her being, she felt her heart pounding in her chest like a drum. His touch, though gentle, was electric, sending jolts of desire coursing through her veins. She could feel the heat between her legs, a growing ache that demanded attention. His thumb, still resting on her lip, began to trace the outline of her mouth, a slow, sensual motion that made her catch her breath. She let her eyes flutter closed, her body swaying ever so slightly towards him, her breasts brushing against his chest. She could feel the hardness of his lean muscles, the unyielding strength that lay beneath his cloak, and it sent a thrill of excitement coursing through her.
He took advantage of her momentary weakness, his hands moving to her hips, guiding her back until she felt the cold stone altar against her thighs. She gasped, her eyes flying open, but he was already bending down, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that was as intense as it was unexpected. His mouth was hot, his tongue demanding as it dove into her mouth, tasting, exploring. She could feel the sharp points of his teeth, a delicious threat that sent a shiver of fear and excitement through her. His hands, those strong, gloved hands, moved to her breasts, cupping them, squeezing them with just enough pressure to make her moan into his mouth. She could feel her nipples hardening, straining against the fabric of her dress, begging for his touch. As if reading her mind, he broke the kiss, his hands moving to the laces at the front of her dress, his fingers deftly working them loose, one by one, until her breasts spilled free, the cool air of the church a stark contrast to the heat of his hands.
As he broke the kiss, his gloved hands didn't linger on her breasts for long. Instead, they moved downwards, tracing the curve of her waist, the flare of her hips, before resting where her ass met her thigh, his fingers digging into her soft flesh with a possessive grip. His eyes never left hers, burning through her, as he began to lift the hem of her dress, his fingers brushing against her thighs, leaving a trail of fire on her skin. She felt a shiver run through her, a mix of anticipation and trepidation as the cool air of the church hit the heat between her legs. She bit her lip, her breath coming in short gasps as he revealed more of her flesh, his gaze intense, hungry.
He paused when her skirt was hiked up to her hips, his fingers tracing the lacy edge of her panties. She could see the lust in his eyes, the dark desire that mirrored her own. But he didn't rush, didn't tear the fabric away as she half-expected, half-hoped. Instead, he leaned in, his gloved fingers hooking into the waistband of her panties, pulling them aside, baring her to his gaze. She felt a blush creep up her cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and arousal, as he took in the sight of her with an evil smirk. So wet, so ready for him already. Then in a breath, his fingers were there, tracing her folds, parting them, exploring her wet heat. She gasped, her hips jerking forward, seeking more of that tantalizing touch. He chuckled, a low, dark sound that sent shivers down her spine, and slipped a gloved finger inside her, his thumb finding her clit, rubbing in slow, maddening circles. She moaned, her hands gripping his shoulders, her nails digging into the fabric of his cloak as he began to move, his finger sliding in and out of her, his thumb never ceasing its relentless pace. She could feel the pressure building inside her, every muscle tensing. But he seemed to know just when to slow, just when to pull back, keeping her on the edge, teetering, desperate. She was his to command, his to please, and she knew he would make her beg.
Sensing her nearing climax, he slowed his rhythm, his fingers retreating from her core, leaving her bereft and whimpering. He chuckled, a low, wicked sound that echoed through the chamber, "Not yet, little one," he murmured, his breath hot against her ear. "Tonight, I want to hear you sing for me. I want to hear every note, every moan, every plea for release. I want to conduct your pleasure, draw it out, make it last." His gloved hand moved back to her breast, his fingers pinching her nipple, sending a jolt of electricity straight to her core. She gasped, her hips bucking, seeking friction, but he held her firm, his other hand splayed across her belly, holding her in place against the cold stone.
He stepped back, his gaze never leaving hers, and slowly, deliberately, he removed his gloves, one finger at a time. She watched, mesmerized, as his hands were revealed, graceful and expressive. He saw the question in her eyes, the curiosity about the secrets his hands held, and he smiled, a slow, predatory curl of his lips. "These hands," he said, his voicedrop to a low rumble, "have touched the face of darkness itself. They've guided souls through the abyss, they've commanded demons, and now, they're going to make you scream." He reached out, his bare fingers tracing the line of her jaw, her neck, her collarbone, leaving a trail of fire against her sensitive skin. She shivered, her heart pounding in her chest, as he grasped her chin, tilting her head up, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Are you ready, little one," he asked, his voice a low growl as he lifted her onto the stone altar, "to dance with the devil?"
As his words hung in the air, she felt a shiver run through her, a mix of fear and excitement. Before she could respond, he was on his knees before her, his hands gripping her thighs, spreading them wider. She gasped, her hands flying to his shoulders for support as he leaned in, his breath hot against her most intimate place. She could feel the heat of his mouth, the wetness of his tongue through her panties. He pulled them to one side as he parted her folds, tasting her, exploring her with a thoroughness that made her squirm. His hands held her firm, his fingers digging into her flesh as he feasted on her, his tongue delving into her core, then flicking upwards to circle her clit. She moaned, her head falling back, her eyes fluttering closed as waves of pleasure washed over her. He was unrelenting and maddeningly slow, his mouth and tongue moving with a skill that spoke of years of practice, of honing this dark art. She could feel the pressure building again, every muscle tightening, and this time, she was prepared to beg him not to stop. She wanted to fall over that edge, to drown in the pleasure he was so expertly drawing from her.
But just as she was about to reach her peak, he pulled back, his mouth leaving her heated flesh. She cried out, a sound of frustration and need, her body arching, seeking more. He chuckled, a low, dark sound that resonated through her, and looked up at her, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "No no, little one," he murmured, his voice a husky growl. "I want to hear you beg for it." His bare finger replaced his mouth, slipping inside her, curving to stroke that sensitive spot deep within. She moaned, her hips moving in time with his hand, chasing the pleasure he was so cruelly withholding. He added another finger, stretching her, filling her, and she could feel the tension building again, her breath coming in short gasps. "Please," she whimpered, her fingers digging into his black hair. "Please, Papa." He smiled, a slow, predatory curl of his lips, and leaned in, his tongue flicking out to circle her clit, his fingers never ceasing their relentless pace. "Please what, little one?" he growled, his voice vibrating through her. She knew what he wanted, what he needed to hear. She knew she was at his mercy, and she was powerless to resist. "Please," she begged, her voice breaking, "please let me come." And with a satisfied growl, he obliged, his mouth and fingers working in unison, pushing her over the edge, making her scream as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her.
His eyes held hers captive, watching as she panted, her body still quivering from the force of her orgasm. As he stood, his face a smeared mess of black and white, his fingers glistening with her juices, he brought them to his mouth, sucking them clean. She couldn't help but lick her lips at the sight, her desire far from sated. He smirked, as if reading her thoughts, and reached for her, his hands gripping her waist, shifting her closer to edge of the stone altar. The cold surface against her heated skin made her gasp, but the sensation was quickly overshadowed by the feel of his hands, his bare skin against hers, igniting sparks wherever he touched. He pushed her back gently, her body yielding to his strength, until she was laid out before him, a feast for his eyes. She could see the hunger in his gaze, the raw, primal need that mirrored her own. He was far from finished with her.
He leaned over her, his hands capturing hers, pinning them above her head. She could feel the hard length of him pressing against her thigh, a promise of what was to come. But he didn't rush. Instead, he took his time, his mouth exploring her body, his tongue tracing patterns on her skin that made her arch into him, seeking more. He lavished attention on her breasts, his mouth hot and wet on her nipples, sucking, biting, until she was writhing beneath him, her moans echoing through the chamber. His hands followed the curve of her body, her hips, her thighs, his fingers tracing the edge of her panties, teasing, tantalizing. She could feel the heat building again, but he was the conductor of this symphony, and she was his instrument. She knew he wouldn't let her find her release until he was ready. Until he had played her to his satisfaction.
As he continued his torturously slow exploration of her body, his fingers hooked into the waistband of her panties, pulling them down inch by agonizing inch. She squirmed, her breath hitching as the cool air of the church hit her heated core. "Patience, little one," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers through her. "We're only just beginning." He tossed her panties aside, his gaze locked onto hers as he slowly unbuckled his belt, the sound of leather sliding through loops echoing in the chamber. She could see the outline of his hardness straining against his pants, and she bit her lip, her heart pounding in anticipation. He chuckled, a low, dirty sound that sent a bolt of lust straight to her core. "You like that, don't you, little one?" he growled, his hand moving to cup himself, squeezing through the fabric. "You like seeing what you do to your Papa?" She nodded, her breath coming in short gasps, her body aching with need. "Then you're going to love what comes next," he promised, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as he began to slowly, deliberately, unzip his pants before pushing them down his hips, freeing his throbbing cock.
He leaned over her, his hands gripping her thighs, spreading them wider. She could feel the heat of him, the hardness of his erection mere inches from where she needed him most. But he didn't enter her, not yet. Instead, he reached down, his fingers wrapping around his length, stroking slowly, deliberately, as he looked into her eyes. "Tell me what you want, little one," he commanded, his voice a low growl. She whimpered, her hips lifting, seeking friction, but he held her firm, his grip tightening on her thighs. "Tell me how you want me to fuck you." She blushed, her eyes fluttering closed, but he grasped her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Look at me," he growled. "Tell me." She took a deep breath, her voice barely a whisper. "I want you to fuck me, Papa. Hard and fast. I want to feel you deep inside me, filling me, making me scream." He smiled, a slow, predatory curl of his lips, and lined himself up with her entrance. "Good girl," he murmured, and with one powerful thrust, he entered her, making her cry out in pleasure and pain.
He paused, holding her still, feeling her strain to accommodate him. When she began to squirm under him, he knew she was ready. He began to move slowly, his hips setting a rhythm that was both punishing and exquisite. He filled her completely, his length stretching her, his thickness rubbing against that sensitive spot deep within. She could feel every inch of him, every ridge, every vein, and it was unlike anything she had ever experienced. He watched her, his eyes locked onto hers, as if he was enjoying the sight of her pleasure, the way her body yielded to his. She arched into him, her nails digging into his back, her moans echoing through the chamber. He growled, a low, animalistic sound, and captured her mouth in a brutal kiss, his tongue in a tangle with hers, his teeth nipping at her lower lip. "You feel so fucking good," he groaned, breaking the kiss, his forehead resting against hers. "So fucking tight, so fucking wet. You were made for this, little one. Made for me."
But even as he praised her, he slowed his pace, his hips rolling in a maddeningly slow rhythm, his cock rubbing against her in ways that made her gasp, made her squirm, made her beg. "Please," she whimpered, her body aching with the need for release. "Please, Papa, I need more." He chuckled, a dark, dirty sound, and leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear. "You need more, hmm?" he murmured, his voice a low growl. "You need me to fuck you harder, faster? You need to come all over my cock?" She nodded, her breath coming in short pants, her body grinding against his, seeking more friction. "Then beg for it," he commanded, his voice firm. "Beg for my cock, little one. Beg for your release." And so, she did. She begged, she pleaded, she cursed, her voice echoing through the chamber, a desperate, needy sound that made him grin, that made him growl, that made him thrust into her with renewed vigor, pushing her closer and closer to the edge, until she was screaming his name, her body convulsing with pleasure, her core clenching around him as she came undone once more.
Sensing her orgasm ebbing, he slowed his thrusts, his movements becoming languid, drawing out the aftermath. He leaned down, his lips tracing the shell of her ear, his breath hot and ragged. "You came so beautifully, little one," he murmured, his voice a low, husky rumble. "But we're not done yet. We're barely even started." He reached between them, his fingers finding her clit, swollen and sensitive from her previous orgasms. She gasped, her body jerking, but he held her firm, his other hand gripping her hip, keeping her in place. "I want to feel you come again," he growled, his voice dropping to a dirty, commanding tone. "I want to feel your pussy gripping my cock, milking me, begging for my seed." He began to move again, his hips setting a steady, demanding pace, his fingers rubbing her clit in time with his thrusts. "You can take it, can't you, little one?" he said, his voice filled with dark promise. "You can take all of me, can't you?"
Her moans filled the chamber, cries of pleasure that spurred him on. He could feel her body responding, her hips moving in time with his, her breath coming in short gasps. "That's it, little one," he urged, his voice a low, filthy whisper. "Take my cock like a good girl. I can feel you tightening around me. You're going to come again, aren't you? You're going to come all over my cock, aren't you?" His fingers pressed down on her clit, rubbing in tight, demanding circles, pushing her closer and closer. She was a mess of moans and pleas, her body writhing beneath him, her nails scoring his back, his shoulders, her heels digging into his ass, urging him on. He could feel the change in her body, the telltale signs of another orgasm building, and he growled, his voice filled with primal satisfaction. "That's it, little one. Come for me. Come all over my cock. Show me how much you love being fucked by your Papa." And with a final, shuddering cry, she did, her body convulsing, her core clenching around him, drawing him deeper, making him groan.
Still buried deep within her, he reached hand under her hips, adjusting their angle in a way that made her gasp at the sensation. He leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear. "You feel that, little one?" he murmured, his voice a low growl. "A hidden treasure, and I've just discovered the key." He began to move again, his hips setting a slow, steady rhythm, his cock rubbing against that sensitive spot deep within, making her wimper, making her squirm. "I'm going to make you come like this, little one," he promised, his voice filthy, his breath hot against her neck. "I'm going to fuck that sweet spot, make you scream, make you beg. And when you do, I want you to call out my name, not my title. I want to hear you chant it like a prayer, like a fucking hymn."
He reached between them, his fingers finding her clit again, almost painfully swollen and sensitive. She gasped, her body jerking, but he held her firm, his other hand gripping her hip, keeping her in place. "You're going to come again, aren't you, little one?" he growled, his voice dropping to a dirty, commanding tone. "You're going to come all over my cock, you're gripping me so hard, drawing me in deeper. You're going to sing for me, aren't you, cara? Sing my name. Sing for the devil." And with those filthy words, he began to move in earnest, his hips setting a pace that left them both breathless, his fingers rubbing her clit in time with his thrusts, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. "Yes, Terzo! Fuck yes!", she screamed his name, her body convulsing, her core clenching around him, drawing him in deeper, making him roar as he followed her over the edge, filling her with his hot seed, marking her as his, claiming her as his own.
As his body stilled, his weight collapsing onto her, she could feel his heart pounding in sync with hers. He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, his touch contradictions itself, gentle and reverent after the aggressive, passionate storm they had just weathered. He rolled them onto their sides, their limbs entwined, his cock still buried deep within her. She could feel his fingers tracing patterns on her back, his touch soothing, comforting, a stark contrast to the intense, carnal dance they had just shared. He nuzzled against her neck, his breath warm and even, and she could feel the rise and fall of his chest, the steady beat of his heart. "You were perfect, little one," he murmured, his voice a low, satisfied rumble. "Absolutely fucking perfecto. Just as I imagined." She smiled, her body languid and sated, her mind still spinning from the intensity of their encounter and the realization that she'd been on his mind. She had never felt so alive, so seen, so utterly consumed. A moment of connection, of intimacy, in the wake of their passionate storm.
But even as he held her, his touch gentle and loving, she could feel the shift in the air, the dark promise of more to come. His fingers, tracing patterns on her skin, suddenly dipped lower, teasing the curve of her ass, making her gasp, making her squirm. She could feel his cock, still buried within her, beginning to harden once more. He chuckled, a low, dirty sound against her neck, his teeth nipping at her skin. "Did you think we were done, little one?" he growled, his voice filled with dark promise. "Did you think I was finished worshipping your body, making you sing for me?" She whimpered, her body already responding, already aching for more. "No, Papa," she whispered, her voice hoarse with desire. "I'm yours. Only yours." And with a satisfied growl, he rolled on top of her, his hips setting a slow, languid pace, ready to feel her surrender again.
Sensing her willingness, he began to move again, his hips setting a steady, languid rhythm that made her body hum with pleasure. He looked into her eyes, his gaze intense, searching. "I want to know everything about you, cara," he murmured, his voice a low rumble. "Your dreams, your fears, your deepest desires. I want to know what makes you alive, what sets your soul on fire. I want to know you, not just your body." She gasped, his words striking a chord deep within her. No one had ever wanted to know her like this, to understand her on a level that went beyond the physical. She felt a surge of emotion, a mix of vulnerability and exhilaration, as she realized that this was a connection she had never experienced before. "I want to know you too...Terzo," she whispered, her voice filled with sincerity. "I want to understand the darkness that drives you, the passion that consumes you. I want to know your secrets." He smiled, a slow, genuine smile that transformed his face, making him look almost boyish. "Then let's explore together, little one," he said, his voice filled with promise.
As he continued to move within her, his pace slow and steady, he reached out, his bare fingers tracing the contours of her face, her neck, her collarbone. He seemed to be committing every detail to memory, his touch reverent, almost worshipful. She could feel the shift in their dynamic, the change from the intense, passionate storm they had just weathered to this slow, intimate dance. They were exploring each other's bodies, each other's souls, through touch alone. She could feel the tension building again, the coil tightening, but this time, it was different. This time, their bodies were moving in sync. She could feel every thrust, every touch, every sensation, and she knew he could too. They were building towards something together, something new and human, something that went beyond the physical. She could see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice, feel it in his touch. They were not just fucking. They were making love. And as they came together, their bodies shuddering, their souls crying out, she knew that this was just the beginning of their journey. This was just the first step on a path that would take them to the very edge of darkness, and beyond.
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If you like this story, check out my others on AO3 because I have quite a few now, always guaranteed to be smut-tastic.
Comments and suggestions are always welcome. Thanks for reading!
Warnings: Breeding; power imbalance; dubcon; Nihil is a selfish lover tbh; no after care; dirty talk; degradation; manipulation; this is actually really creepy and dark, please don’t read this if older men manipulating younger women for sex triggers you; use of scissors to cut off clothes; no foreplay; unprotected sex; piv sex; minor restraint; praise kink;
Taglist: @sodoswitchimage @enchantedbunny @bitchywitchygardener @thew0man @sodomiser @the-did-i-ask (if you want to be added to the list please let me know!)
The following fic contains scenes and elements that some may find disturbing. I have highlighted particular content warnings above that may be particularly triggering to some. If you are in any way in a place where this fic could trigger you, please do not read ahead. Your mental health is more important than a work of fiction.
I do not condone the actions taken in this fic. Please remember that it is a work of fiction, and meant for entertainment purposes only.
Thank you.
🔞 MDNI 🔞
As this is dark fiction, I'm choosing to rate it 21+. Please respect my rating. Thank you.
You were merely a young sister in the Satanic Church when you met him. You’d barely taken your vows, just out of your teenage years and not even making a name for yourself in the Ministry when you assigned your first job. Papa Nihil, the founder of the Ghost Project and head of the Satanic Church, was spending the early 60s touring multiple countries, attempting to topple governments and recruit new members to the church. It was your job, while on tour, to make sure Nihil got everything he needed and that he was comfortable. His son, Primo, who was the same age as you, had been left behind to run things in his father’s absence and take care of his two infant brothers. His father got to gallivant and do what or whom he liked.
Nihil enjoyed the fame and success the Ghost Project brought him and the church, and while it wasn’t considered “righteous” to fornicate with others out of wedlock, it still didn’t sit correctly in most people’s moral codes. He enjoyed strings of girls, each one a different variety to the other. Nihil wasn’t picky, and that was perhaps the only good thing about him. If you had a vulva he wanted you, end of story. But this was his biggest problem, as he was already promised to a different sister, a future Prime Mover - and it wasn’t his favourite Ministry squeeze, Sister Imperator.
But this was how you found yourself sat on your 45-year-old Papa’s sofa, his hand grasping harshly at your thigh and his painted lips attached to your neck. That very same hand moved up towards your core and began to rub you through your tights and panties. You weren’t entirely comfortable with this situation. You wanted to give Nihil what he asked for, and in fact your body was craving it, but your mind constantly thought of his future Prime Mover and his lover, who was only in the next room. You told him this, said that you could go and get Sister Imperator for him. But it was no good. Papa Nihil wanted you. “You wouldn’t deny your Papa, would you?” He murmured into your neck. His fingers were swiping just right on your clit and had you gasping out. “More importantly, you wouldn’t deny your Dark Father, would you? He loves the gifts you give him. Will you, scricciolina? Will you give Him what He asks for?” Little Wren. He liked calling you that because you were as sweet and soft as one, a fitting name for someone so cute and pliant.
You nodded. “Y-yes, Papa.” You replied, your hips beginning to buck to meet his hands.
“Brava ragazza. Stendersi. Spread yourself open for me.”
You lay on your back on the couch, Nihil pulling himself away from you just long enough to let it happen. It didn’t matter that you were still fully clothed, Nihil always preferred it when you were while in public spaces. Not that he’d stop fucking you if he got caught. He always said it was to preserve your modesty, but there was always a darker look in his eye when he grabbed the scissors from their location and sliced through your tights. He’d slice your panties too if he were impatient enough, which, today, he was.
You heard the familiar rip of your tights before you felt the coldness of the blade against your labia. One horizontal snip later, your panties were now destroyed and your sweet, delectable cunt exposed to Nihil’s predatory gaze. He palmed himself through his trousers at the sight of you, but it didn’t take long before his cock was out and lined up to your entrance. You were wet enough to welcome him without pain, but not so wet as for the stretch to be completely comfortable or pleasurable. But even so, he pushed all the way in not even considering your own state. The groan he released was somewhat primal, and just the feeling of your unprepared hole was enough to get the man going.
He braced himself on top of you, letting his whole weight on your body and pressing you down into the sofa. He began babbling incoherently in your ear as he fucked you for his own pleasure. “Ecco, take it like a good girl. Take your Papa’s cock.”
You felt completely degraded but there was a huge part of you that was thrilled by this. Knowing that Nihil didn’t care for you, knowing that he was just using you to get what he wanted excited you to the point where you should be concerned. But the more he thrust in and out of you, the wetter you became. The closer he got to cumming inside you, the tighter you squeezed without realising you were doing it.
What if he came inside you? What if he got you pregnant? The thought of it should disgust you. This man was old enough to be your father, and barbaric enough to enjoy this because he thought you were sweet and innocent. But you were losing yourself to the pleasure, to the idea that he would release his white, sticky cum inside you and put you at risk for pregnancy. If you were pregnant, then everyone would know. Everyone would see that Papa Nihil had laid claim to the newest sister. You were part of his harem, at his beck and call. Free to use whenever he liked.
“Talk to Papa,” he said, “t-tell me what you’re thinking.”
You moaned. “Papa!”
“Your… your cunt is so tight, scricciolina. Why?”
“I - mmm fuck! Papa! I want your c-cum!”
Nihil chuckled above you. “You want to receive your Papa’s cum, hm? Want - merda - Nihil to knock you up? Fill up this tight cunt and fuck a baby into you? Is that it?”
“Yes!”
“Want to be round and full with my spawn? Such a good. Fucking. Girl.” Each word was punctuated with a thrust.
You had heard rumours from the other sisters who had been in your position that Nihil’s biggest kink was spreading his seed around. Because of your words, he seemed to lose a little more control than he had previously. His mind began to wander and his mouth let slip every single thought. “Cunt so good, might make you my Prime Mover. Might fuck you until you’re pregnant with the antichrist.” Your stomach dropped at the thought, especially since your previous worries had returned at the mention of ‘Prime Mover’ but your mouth released a moan so loud, it bordered on pornographic. The coming of the antichrist was a big deal for the church, and an honour for the woman who bore him. You hadn’t considered it before, but now you had, there was no turning back.
Your legs wrapped around Nihil’s waist and kept him trapped between them, only allowing him to pull back a certain amount. “Fill up my c-cunt, Papa! I want your cum so badly.” You were practically wailing now, your nails running down his clothed back. “Get me pregnant, sh-show the Ministry who I belong to. Please, Papa!”
That seemed to do the trick. With one final and brutal thrust, reaching all the way to the back of your pussy almost painfully, Nihil stilled. His cum spilled out of him while his mouth released a groan so low, it was practically a growl. “Th-that’s it.” He stammered. “T-take my seed.”
When he pulled out of you, you felt his cum leaking from your abused hole. He noticed it too, and spent a little while watching it ooze from you before standing up and dressing himself. “You should head back to your room.” He told you, not even looking in your direction. “You have an early morning, don’t you?”
You adjusted your own clothes, feeling his cum running down your thighs as you stood. “Yes, Papa.”
imagine a vampire creeping along oh so stealthily with their magic powers of quietude. okay now imagine said vampire tripping on the edge of a table cloth and eating shit all the while still in complete silence due to the aforementioned magic powers. okay now good day to you.
