Commissions Open He/Him, 25, Ex-Catholic, Ordained Minister, Aspiring Dark Erotica Writer Minors dni, **If you feel called to tithe, my cashapp is $grimliturgy**
Kneel, hidden from sight, enclosed by the oak of the pulpit. No one needs to know why my homily is especially fervent today. No one need know why my hands grip the edges of the wood so tightly.
Your mouth is a blessing, and it would be a shame to go without it for the entirety of the service.
Blessed are those that confess their sins. Blessed are those who repent, who lay out their iniquities and seek a proper form of penance.
Blessed are the sinners who confess their lust, who fall to their knees, begging for a chance at redemption. Blessed are those that put theirselves at the mercy of the divine.
Blessed are those that kneel before me, eyes full of longing, as their voices stumble over half thought fantasies and dark desires.
Blessed are my faithful little sinners, for without sin, the salvation offered to us is hollow.
If none of us indulged, Christ would have suffered through unspeakable agonies for nothing. We wouldnt want to spit in the face of the almighty, would we angel?
Come to confession dear sinner, kneel before me, look into my eyes, and lay your heart bare. I will offer the forgiveness you so dearly crave,
Dont worry darling, I'll make you pure. I will guide you back to God's embrace. It's those nasty little thoughts that drive you to sin so egregiously. Those despicable little things that turn you away from righteousness.
I'll take those away. You don't need them. You don't need anything but the love of your God. It will be so easy, so sweet, so right. All you'll need to do is listen and obey, and that will be so very easy without all those thoughts rattling around your skull.
Focus on me, and only on me. We'll pray together my sweet little lamb, until our words have purged you of your sins. Repeat after me precious;
Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.
You claim to crave salvation, but I see the way your eyes wander. I see the way you gaze so longingly at my hands. I see how you can never seem to meet my gaze, how your eyes never seem to raise past my lips.
Would it help if I made you?
Would it help if I made you kneel before me? If I tied my cincture around your neck? Wrapping that holy cord around my hand until I can force you to tip your head up?
Then you could see the amusement in my gaze as I nudge your legs apart with the toe of my dress shoe, the patent leather pressing right where you need it most.
Would you want a private sermon then? Trying to hold back from grinding against my shoe? Of course, I wont make it easy on you. If I think you're getting a little too distracted I'll have to give the cincture a tug, forcing you up onto your knees before allowing you to settle back down.
You'd better be good sweetheart, or I might forget where I was. If that happens, well, I'll just have to start from the beginning.
“Do you honestly believe I, your benevolent god, would do anything to harm you, my darling? I haven’t done anything but give you pleasure, have I? The very least you could do is devote your entire self to me and serve me to the best of your ability by cumming to me daily. ✞”
A little snippet from Father Joseph's point of view.
Featuring public sex, the threat of discovery, breathplay, degrading language, and a bit of blood. He is a vampire after all.
Life in the church had grown rather boring. At least, it had been until the little investigator came to town. That dear lost lamb, refusing to take part in the sacrament, it maddened me. Sitting in the confessional booth, I listened carefully to the sins one of my flock recounted. Minor, stupid things, and I nearly said as much. Still, the thought of the investigator, of fresh blood and free will, of a challenge, made my dead heart want to race with anticipation.
"Come to my side, and show me how repentant you truly are," I ordered.
"Yes Father," it replied, a dumb little plaything that had no desire to be anything more. It was truly shocking, just how many humans were so willing to debase themselves in all manner of ways after they'd been stripped clean of their inhibitions. My blood did little more than free them from the shackles of their shame, leaving eager, gasping bodies that ached to serve their one true God in the most carnal of ways.
The curtain opened, and my toy was quick to open the wooden door to my side of the confessional. It slipped inside, the door locking us in together with a soft click. I didn't smile, but it was a near thing. Such stupid, mindless creatures, amusing, but oh so boring when one wanted conversation. Luckily for this particular toy, it wasn't conversation I was after.
"Well then? What are you waiting for?" I asked, spreading my legs as I leant back against the wall of the confessional.
It would be more amusing, watching it strip bare in such a cramped space, if the thing before me was capable of being embarrassed. A shame, that I had liberated it so fully. Perhaps it was time to experiment once more. To wean a select few off of my blood and see if they still wished to serve so eagerly. They always had in the past. And oh how they would squirm and blush and beg when their little heads got clearer. When they could actually comprehend the world around them without the haze of my influence clouding their silly little thoughts.
"Relax, and kneel. Suck me, get me wet and dripping before I fuck your tight little hole," I murmured, my hand resting atop its head as it knelt between my legs. Footsteps drew near, and I groaned at the interruption as the toy between my thighs moved my cassock up and out of the way. "Not a sound from you," I ordered, practically feeling when my words took hold.
It wouldn't be able to even think about going against my will, too wrapped up in my influence to do anything but eagerly obey. I looked down, watching hungrily as it undid the button of my slacks, freeing me. A second later, as the curtain opened once more, it swallowed me down in one practiced move.
"Welcome my child, speak and I shall listen," I said, voice almost warm, welcoming in a way I did not have to be. The church suited me, and I suited it, though the pope would likely keel over dead at seeing just what kinds of penance were offered in these hallowed halls.
"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned, it has been many years since my last confession," spoke the voice of the newcomer. The one person in the entire town I did not control, the lost lamb that refused to join the flock. Arousal gripped me tighter. A smile spreading across my face that none would bear witness to. If only the little investigator could see beyond the screen of the confessional, perhaps it would see the depravity that took place mere inches away.
My hand made the sign of the cross on reflex alone, the sound of rustling fabric hopefully covering the barely there sound of a careful, but eager mouth.
"I do not know where to start Father. I know that I have committed blasphemy, that I have laid with others out of wedlock, that I have taken the Lord's name in vain," it spoke, and I let my hand tangle in the hair of my toy.
"What sins have driven you to confess today my child? Surely you would not confess after years of silence if not for something in particular," I asked, as if I didn't have a mouth eagerly swallowing me down to the hilt. As if I did not intend on fucking a stupid little slut the second this lost lamb left the area.
"I-, I have lusted for a servant of God, in detail," it admitted, sounding mortified at saying the words aloud. It had no way of knowing that I had driven it to do so with a meeting of our eyes during the homily. It did not know that I knew the exact fantasy I had infected its mind with. It had been so long since I had a plaything that wasn't completely brainless, I'd nearly forgotten how much fun it truly was.
"It is human, to be attracted to someone, even when you should be thinking of other things. Is that why you denied yourself the sacrament my child? These lustful thoughts?"
"Yes Father."
"And is that all that brings you to me? Blasphemy? My child, sex is no sin. It is human, natural, there is no need to shame yourself for such things. Even the holiest of us have urges, whether or not we indulge them is between us and God. As you have taken no oaths, no penance is needed beyond that required for such blasphemy and for going without confession for so long."
I can practically hear its confusion. No doubt it thought that I would ridicule it, belittle it, for these sins. For these simple acts that the church at large painted as nearly demonic. Perhaps it had wanted my derision, my scorn. I would need to observe and adjust this game of mine accordingly.
"Ten Hail Mary's, and a rite of contrition before bed tonight, and upon waking in the morning. By the grace of God you will be forgiven, and you shall be worthy of the sacrament once more," I murmured, eager to bury myself properly within this toy of mine, eager to get the lost lamb to go on its way.
"Thank you Father. May the lord be with you," it murmured, already standing from what I could hear.
"And with your spirit my child," I replied, listening to the sound of the curtain opening, to the retreating footsteps. When it had ventured far enough away, I turned my full attention down to the trembling body between my legs.
"Up," I snarled, eager in a way I rarely was these days.
My toy gasped for air, and I laughed, a little cruelly, as I hauled it up into my lap. It weighed little more than a feather in my grasp, as fragile and delicate as porcelain when confronted with a being like myself.
"Quiet, let me use you, let me show you exactly what you're good for you whore," I ordered, getting a grasp under its thighs to maneuver it properly. It took no effort at all to hold it in place, to fuck up in to its willing body, claiming it in the name of God once more. Slick sounds echoed in the booth, and I watched with cruel amusement as it tried to stay silent. "Stop breathing. You're being too loud. A hole shouldn't be loud. A hole should be quiet and thankful that its being fucked. Stop. Breathing."
And just like that, its heart raced, air frozen in its lungs. Perhaps I would let it pass out, let it regain consciousness speared on my cock, being fucked for as long as it amused me.
Leaning forward, I bit at its bottom lip, drawing blood as its heart raced ever faster, its body twitching and tensing in my grasp. "Breathe," I ordered, watching it gasp and pant as I leant in, licking the blood from its chin, following the path to the delicate skin that I had broken open mere moments before. The taste was sublime. Endorphins and iron that made me shudder as I chased after every stray drop.
Footsteps drew near again, and I pulled back with a grin, a wide and vicious thing as I slowed my thrusts, lowering my toy down into my lap properly. "Grind down against me, you're going to be quiet, and you're going to fuck yourself on my cock. If you make a single noise, I'll make sure you pass out this time. Am I understood little whore?"
"Yes Father."
A smile crossed my face as I made myself comfortable, my hands resting on undulating hips as the curtain opened once more.
"Welcome my child. Speak on your sins, and I shall listen."
Can you imagine it darling? Being shared between a corrupted priest and a fallen angel? Wings of smoldering feathers blocking your view of the outside world. Two sets of hands, greedy, reverent, ravenous, tracing every inch of your skin. Whispers in enochian, twisted insults that strike your very soul echoing up from inside the chest of one that fell from grace. The highest of praise, the sweetest compliments, soothing them from the mouth of a man that should worship God, but has chosen to worship you instead.
think i've said this before but the only way i can heal my religious trauma is by writing the most disgusting blasphemous priest!corruption!church smut ever — choked with the rosary, holy water spat back into your mouth, dick sucking in the confessional, like this is what will make me right again i promise
Why concern yourself with God? Why cower in fear of a being that has been wholly absent for centuries? Your God is dead, murdered by his own hubris, torn apart by revisions and blasphemy and radicals that used him as justification.
Your God likely didn't exist in the first place. He was just a fairy tale, made to justify all manner of bigotry. Made to justify the oppression of the masses.
God is dead. Has always been dead.
But I am here, I will always be here my child. You need never fear my wrath. For I will not allow you to turn against me. You need never be afraid of sin, for it will all be forgiven. You will live forever, through me, and in the end we shall all become one flesh.
I am here, and you may call me God, if that brings you comfort.
I am opening commissions through Ko-fi for custom works/responses. Slots are limited (I am only taking 3 at a time). Due to current events, there will be a strict, 'no refund' policy to anyone that asks for something that I have listed as a limit. I can write as a reply to you specifically, like a longer, more detailed, ask response, or I can do an erotic short story. Let me know which you would like.
My dms are open if you have questions!
My limits / What I Will Not Write ;
Raceplay
Cnc/dubcon
Family dynamics (daddy/mommy kinks, step-whatever)
Bathroom play
Bestiality
Agere
Babyfurs
Abdl
Lactation kinks
Nazi characters/fascists in general
Torture scenes
Bodily mutilation
What I will write;
Priest kink content (my favorite)
Victorian-esque flamboyant love letters
Words of general encouragement from a priest/angel/God
The names and pronouns of any characters you'd like written.
The genitalia that your character has, and what terms are acceptable.
A brief description of said characters if you want that included in the story.
What POV / tense you want it in.
If you decide that you want me to write it from my pov, you are free to choose whether you would prefer if I have a cock or a strap. The pronouns used for myself as a character will always be he/him.
Pricing;
Prices will be $5 for 500 words, with an additional $1 per 100 words.
Certain subjects will cost extra, as shown below
Detrans will be an additional $3, available under the code 'DT'
Feminization/Sissification will be an additional $3, available under the code 'F/S'
Breeding will be an additional $2, available under the code 'B'
Orgies/Gangbangs will be an additional $4, available under the code 'O'
If you have questions about a commission, my dms have been reopened.
Ko-fi Commissions Open! Click to see GrimLiturgy's commission menu.
Don't be shy angel, there's no better way to show your devotion than to worship at the feet of your God. Embarrass yourself for me. Let me see how desperate you are, let me see how much you need me. How beautiful you are, knelt before me, kissing at my shoes, licking at the patent leather until it shines.
Debase yourself for me. Prove that your devotion to me is more than your own pride, your own dignity, and I shall reward you. Put on a show for your God. Amuse me sweetheart. It's all that you're good for anyways.
I watch, eyes sharp and calculating as the newcomer in the cathedral mouths along to the words, eyes glued to the pages of the hymnal as my flock sings God's praises. Not a church goer then, but respectful of the practices. There are seldom newcomers in this town, in my town. And when there are, they are either integrated into the flock quickly, or disposed of. I have no need for trouble makers, no need for those that wish to disturb the peace that I have kept for nearly two centuries now.
My flock has grown since then. Since the early days, immigrant farmers mostly, heavily catholic, and that suited me well. Within a handful of decades they'd fallen under my grasp, isolated, vulnerable. A grand cathedral had been built, the rectory a thing of luxury that was updated as needed to keep with the times.
People entered my parish, but they rarely left. Sometimes I instructed them to go out into the world, to bring back new partners, new blood. New members were integral to the continuation of a healthy flock. A single sip of the communion wine was all it would take to bring this lost lamb home. To start the process of bending its mind, to make the thought of leaving Messis.
Perhaps I would invite the little lamb to stay a moment longer, to drink of the wine again, and again, until the thought of disobeying was anathema. Perhaps I would drink of it then, my fangs buried in its neck, tasting the lifeblood that sustained me. Savoring it like one would a rare vintage, something unique and special.
The hymn ended, and my focus sharpened. Yes. Yes I would drink of this lamb today, but it was always so much sweeter when they begged, when they pleaded to be permitted to serve me. After the sacrament, after Mass, I would track it down and entice it to stay a while longer. It would be all too easy, my blood would be in its veins, the taste of wine lingering in its mouth, the copper of my blood clinging to its tongue.
I recently commissioned my friend @grim-liturgy! I figured I’d share the short snippet with you guys. I highly implore you to commission him too. He’s a fantastic author!
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The sound of footsteps in the rectory, and the knowledge that no one was supposed to be by let me know that you’ve arrived once more. It takes but a moment to track the sounds, footsteps, breathing, heartbeats, to the kitchen. You’re sitting on the table, a pretty little meal that I can’t eat, just within my grasp.
“How nice, dinner decided to bring itself by,” I say, lips curling up in a smile that reveals gleaming white teeth and sharp fangs. A predator’s grin if there ever was one.
I'm very glad you liked it! Also, Carr's a great writer, and makes interactive fiction games! Its been super helpful! Check it out if you have a chance!!
