A lil drabble I did - Papa V Perpetua x fem!reader. NSFW - MDNI!! Priest kink goes wild. Degradation goes wild. THIS IS VERY EXPLICIT DESPITE THE SLOW INTRO! I wrote this 5 months ago. Before we hardly knew anything about V's personality. Aw yeah, big cringe time:
You walked into his office, as you were called.
Papa V Perpetua stood, leaning against his desk. But his outfit was not the same as it usually was - tonight he wore a black fitted suit, still vampiric and him, but he wore what appeared to be a white priest's collar.
You froze, remembering how you recently accidentally left your journal in the library. Your very private journal. He must've picked it up and flipped through it and saw... a kink of yours.
"Ah, there you are. Come."
He waves you over, and you stand in front of him, your brows furrowed and confused to the situation - whether you were in trouble. His eyes never left you, and once you stood in front of him, his gaze deepened.
The words hit you like a truck, your knees becoming conveniently wobbly. Papa V definitely read your diary and definitely either liked what he read, or is torturing you.
You looked at him, shocked and confused.
You slowly knelt down, looking up to him for further explanation. He made his gaze upon you purposefully disappointed, pitying, disdainful, and condescending. Papa V pushed away from his desk and slowly stepped before you, his black dress shoes very close to your knees.
Your heart THUMPED in your chest…and other places. Just that look alone…plus his priest collar… oh it aroused you, especially knowing he's definitely doing this all on purpose to get a reaction out of you.
You looked up to him with innocent, yet eager eyes.
"You look up at me like a little pure lamb. But your mind is of a degenerate sort, hm?"
You shifted nervously, still silent.
"Father. You will call me Father."
A small gasp escapes you at the heat that flooded through your body, especially your lower abdomen. All you could think was, 'Oh my god he's so good at this…he's going to ruin me…inside and out.'
"O-okay, I meant, No, Father…"
His voice rumbled in his throat, arms crossed, looking down upon you as if not knowing where to even start.
"The first step to repentance and absolution is admittance. You will confess your transgressions and impurities."
This was even better than you could have ever imagined. You were so aroused…but you also knew that you're very shy. Saying your fantasies out loud seemed nearly impossible.
He continued to look down upon you, leather-gloved finger tapping against his arm where they were crossed.
Your lips parted in an effort to start speaking, but nothing came out. Your mind had gone blank. V waited patiently, in no rush. After a few minutes passed, he leaned down closer to you.
"Perhaps you are distracted, hm? Here. I'll help you."
He walks over to his large wooden desk, opening a drawer and pulling out your journal. Oh boy. He walks over slowly, skimming through the pages, a deep rumble in his chest as he refreshes his mind. He opens up to a page and hands the journal back to you.
"Now read this page for me, out loud."
Perpetua stepped back for a moment, looking you over - reveling in how you were flustered at the prospect of reading your own lustful words.
He steps closer, grabbing your chin, firmly and quickly but not roughly. The touch of his leather was enough to set your nerves ablaze in the best way.
"You speaketh the name of the Lord in vain."
He tightens his grip a bit more, as if to silently reprimand you. It's deliciously ironic how he's the satanic anti-pope of the Ministry. You had to fight back a smirk.
He huffs very lightly, eyes half-lidded, condescending.
He lets go, gesturing to the book in your hands. You look back down, voice trembling.
"Uh-um…I want... I want Papa V Perpetua to um, skillfully finger me as I fall apart at his hand… and he looks at me with…um, an unchanging neutral expression…but I hear his breathing become heavier... and see a growing outline through his pants…"
You choked these words out, the embarrassment sending heat through your whole body, contrasted by goosebumps simultaneously.
There was clearly a smug and satisfied look behind his eyes. He gestured once again, for you to continue.
Your cheeks were pink and hot, knees aching. You squirmed, but you looked down and began to read more.
"Um… I want to be on my knees for Papa V and um… have him tell me to 'Open', and slide his clawed/gloved index and middle finger onto my tongue… pressing down, a-and um, telling me to suck… looking down at me with pity as I enjoyed it, my tongue b-bleeding after, but I keep sucking and licking his claws as he asked.. like a.. um, a good little disciple taking her communion…"
You look up, flushed, anxious. The look you saw cascading down upon you sent heat to your core. Such pity, such disdain, but… undeniable underlying heat within him too.
Papa V stepped closer again, and leaned down.
"The only path to salvation is through admittance and forgiveness. Do you believe you deserve to be forgiven, little one?"
Your brain was waning blank with anxiety and arousal.
"Um… I don't know Father…"
He made another face resembling pity for your condition, silent for what seemed like forever. And then finally:
Your eyes widened, but you eagerly did so, sliding your tongue out, just as you did in your fantasy.
V wasn't wearing his clawed gloves, but instead his usual very tight black leather ones.
He painfully slowly lifted his right hand, isolating his middle and ring finger and sliding them onto your tongue, from the tip to rest on the center.
Without hesitation, you close your mouth over his fingers, a little moan escaping you as you run your tongue over the tight leather covering his fingers, wetting it before sucking. You felt a strong heart beat between your legs, and you found your kneeling position shifting - your legs were spreading, the position becoming more sexual and wanton in nature than subservient.
As he watched you, almost admiringly as you worshipped his fingers, he let out a long exhale, clearly enjoying it underneath the holy-priest façade he put on for you.
But when he noticed your legs spreading, he pulled his fingers out.
"Tsk tsk tsk… it seems you've begun to gain sexual gratification from this. That simply won't do."
He shakes his head, and walks over to his desk once more - obtaining a small flat wooden cross. Why does he have that in a Satanic Ministry. You couldn't figure out what he was planning, but you were excited and intimidated. He walked back over, slowly, turning the cross over in his hands and admiring it.
"You know absolution doesn't come without true holy intent… Raise your left hand. Knuckles up."
You did as asked, forming a light fist. When you realized what he was about to do, you braced yourself for it - screwing your eyes shut.
"Open your eyes, child. You will be present when you are righted."
You open your eyes, still cringing in anticipation. He hums, pleased, and remains still for a moment. Then he brings the hard wooden cross onto your knuckles. THWAP. You gasp, it hurt - but wasn't nearly as hard as he could've done it. THWAP. Again, same pressure. Punishing, but not cruel. He pulls away, walking back to his desk to put the cross on top - not back in the drawer. He thinks he may need it again. You bring your hand down, looking at your red knuckles; they sting. But you do not exactly dislike it.
"Well then. There's that. If you behave accordingly, that won't happen again. But if it must - expect I won't be so merciful, and I will lash 7 times in the name of the Lord."
He says this so calmly, so matter-of-factly, and you pretend not to be absolutely entranced. Your knees are back together, they have been, as soon as you knew you were in trouble.
"Now. Pick up the book and continue with your confessions."
Papa V leans against his desk, arms crossed, waiting. You slowly pick up the book, trembling. You flip to the next page.
"No. You said. You wrote that, didn't you, lamb?"
He gestured for you to continue.
"Um… I want… I want Papa V to…damn it… f-fuck me ruthlessly inside a chapel, on the altar steps… my um, my moans echoing off the walls and high ceilings, right in front of a large cross… asking me to… to… to um, cum for my Papa…to show God who my real Father is…?"
You could see his underlying demeanor shift, clearly aroused by your words. But he had to play a part. He 'tsked' once, before unfolding his arms and slowly walking over, boots clicking against the cold, marble floor. Once again, leaning down:
"You phrased that last part as a question. Why?"
You don't really know how to answer that. Maybe the shame within you and the disbelief you were saying it, that you wrote it at all, led you to question it verbally.
"Um… I don't know… because.. because I shouldn't be saying it…?"
The corner of his lips shifted ever so slightly upwards, the ghost of a smirk.
"Ah… and you shouldn't be thinking it, should you, piccolina?"
You swallowed dryly, a shiver running down your spine from his Italian. You shake your head 'no'. You shouldn't be thinking like that.
He crouches down, so slowly, down to your level. Tilting his head.
"Oh little one… tell me… when you think these impure thoughts… have you indulged in sins of the flesh?"
Your lips part slightly in surprise, in embarrassment. No words come out.
"Must I speak in lamens terms…? Ask you if you've pleasured yourself to the thought of me?"
You nod and bow your head in shame. He lets out a long breath, bleeding into what he says next. Exasperated… or exhilarated.
"Oh cara… Say it. Out loud. Use your words, child."
He's so close, crouched right in front of you, that you can almost feel the heat emanating off of him.
"Y-yes Father, I have. Many times."
A deep, interested hum comes from his throat.
"Oh. I see. Could you say, then, you've reached powerful climaxes, moaning out my name in vain?"
Your eyes widen, a look of almost horror written on your face, that he continued like this. That this 'priest' character would entertain words like that out of his own mouth. You nod your head. He's not wrong.
He stands up fully, back straight, full height.
A pause as he goes to his desk again. And then, in a soft, hushed voice:
"You really are a little needy sinner, aren't you?"
You gasp lightly, squirming, your knees panging with sharp pain, leading you to fall to the side, knees bent to one side of you for relief.
Papa V definitely noticed how you left your designated form, but didn't look directly at you nor acknowledge it right away. He looked like he was trying to figure out what to do with you next.
"Traditional methods may be of no use with you. You've already fallen from your knees, a little lustful mess on my floor, hm?"
You hung your head down, getting back onto your knees again. It stung and ached horribly.
He requests you to stand, and you do so - legs wobbling, sore, but you stand.
He gestures for you to walk over to him and his desk, and you do so, slowly, legs trembling. He looks down at you, eyes dark, hungry, punishing.
"Now, dolcezza… if I were to lay you bare here, on my desk, unabashedly raw in front of myself and God, would your sinful desires drip right down onto my desk and make a mess…?"
Again, surprise crosses your face at his bluntness. Well, eloquent bluntness.
"Would your petals be slick with your unholy urges? Just begging for me to touch…?"
You cover your mouth, unable to respond.
"P-papa…please…I can't…please stop…"
You whine out, breaking character, absolutely dizzy with arousal. You don't know how much longer you can stand his teasing.
He tilts his head, not correcting you, a smirk crossing his face, causing you to tingle.
"Oh little one, I know you don't want me to stop. You want me to relieve you of your urges. Of the tension. Am I wrong?"
You whimper out pathetically.
Perpetua reaches out to caress your jawline and neck… but only with his middle and ring finger, suggestively teasing on purpose. Making you want those fingers deep inside you.
"You must face these unrighteous desires directly. You clearly cannot suppress them. Look at you… your knees tremble at my lightest touch…"
His two fingers land over your jugular, feeling your heartbeat.
Papa V takes a big deep breath, letting it out slowly as he thinks. The silence lasting too long.
"You will display yourself before your Father, and before God Himself. You will expose your shame so it may be forgiven. Remove your clothing."
You stare at him for a moment, not realizing it'd go this far. You didn't think Papa V felt this way about you… you thought he was just teasing. Oh shit. You wait a moment, to see if he's serious, extremely bashful.
You hesitantly began to pull your leggings down, underwear still on. Afterwards, you pulled your shirt over your head. The air was oddly chilly, worsening the goosebumps already lining your skin.
"You're not finished. Undress."
You turn away, removing your bra and slowly slipping down your wet panties. After stepping out of them, he grabs them up, examining them.
"Hm. Well… is this how you feel about me? You're going to make quite the mess all over my desk, aren't you?"
Your eyes widen, unable to speak, unable to turn around and fully show yourself. He mutters under his breath:
"Regardless I'll see to it that you do."
He drops them to the floor. Discarded. No longer needed.
"Turn around and face me."
You're breathing heavily, nervously, but you obey.
He looks you over, a look of satisfaction despite his priest-act. He pauses, tensing as he looks you over… your breasts perked up from the chill, thighs pressed together.
When he's able to divert his attention, he clears off the nearest edge of his desk, and then gestures to it.
You do as you're told, looking at him longingly, awaiting his next order.
"Good. Lay back and spread your legs. Bare yourself before the Lord."
You obey, very hesitantly, and knowing 'the Lord' really meant him. You hear him fall silent as he looked you over from the new angle. Your labia was spread, slick with arousal.
His voice showed his bending restraint. You weren't sure how long he could keep up the act.
"Admit to me… to God… what is running through your sinful little mind… as your most sensitive and vulnerable parts are exposed to me?"
You spread your legs further, hips lifting a bit in need.
"I-I… I need to be touched down there… please… please…"
Papa V looked thoroughly pleased with your begging, both leather-gloved hands making their way to your thighs, keeping them parted.
"Is that why your little pearl throbs? And your tight little womb clenches around nothing at all? Longing for my touch, hm?"
You gasp, grinding against the air, no longer able to help yourself. A few drips made their way to his desk beneath you.
"Yes yes please… you're not talking much like a holy man anymore Father… your words are making it worse…"
A deep chuckle erupts from his chest. A dark one.
"My words… and what about your ability to restrain yourself from thinking so unrighteously about them? Why aren't you able to keep your hands from between your legs when you think of me fucking you stupid in a place of worship? When you think of me defiling your little womb… molesting your little button until you squirt all over my hand?"
Silence. These filthy words were spoken calmly, as if they were nothing but simple innocent questions.
You never thought in a million years you'd ever hear Papa V talk like this. Regal, eloquent Papa V.
When you finally got the courage to speak, you spoke boldly.
"Maybe if you did those things to me, you'd understand why."
He raised an eyebrow, a dark smirk on his face - his tongue swiping the inside of his cheek, reacting to your moment of sass.
"Is that so…? The little serpentine lamb desires the holy man to indulge in sacrilege for mortal pleasure?"
His right hand's fingers traveled down your thigh, closer to your area of need… brushing against the lips but avoiding the throbbing center.
And finally, an incredible swipe down the center, exciting the nerves in your clit and folds, leading you to gasp.
"Please…you beg. Please… 'oh please let me lead you down a path of damnation so I may get my fleshly release.'"
He mocked you… but as he did so, his thumb found your clit immediately and began to rub tight circles, blissful ones that had you grabbing onto the sides of his desk and whining out.
"Little girl…you're going straight to Hell."
The circles became faster, and you bucked your hips against his hand.
"But you're going to cum for me first. You will scream for me. You will take only what is given to you. Do you understand?"
His voice was gravelly, evil, hungry. You nodded.
His other hand flew to your mouth, making you open up and suck his middle and ring finger, getting them wet and lubricated. He ripped them out of your mouth, rougher than before.
"You wanted to be 'finger-fucked' is it?"
"Well…at least the little whorish lamb is polite."
His skillful assault on your clit never ceased, and he lined one finger up to your entrance. But he hesitated, especially with how you were desperately trying to thrust into his hand to get him in.
"Say it. Who's going to Hell, dolcezza?"
"Me…oh Father me, please…plea-"
Before you could finish your begging, his finger made it's way inside you, parting your tight walls, gasping at the sensation.
"Do you see what you've made me do, little one?"
He begins to lightly thrust, stretching me for a second finger, other thumb still massaging my aching clit. I feel close to climax already and I know he can feel my walls contracting around him blissfully.
He continued the same pace - but reached deeper.
"So tight, little one… I worry I may break you when you receive exactly what you wished for."
A second finger. You moan very lewdly at the stretch, blissful. He begins to fuck his fingers into you properly, the squelching noises getting louder.
"Is this what you wanted little lamb? Does this feel good?"
Between gasps you nod your head fervently.
"Oh you'd better hope it's worth it. Worth an eternity in hell for cumming all over your Papa's fingers."
You groan loudly at his words - riding the edge now.
"Papa I'm gonna- Papa oh Papa don't stop I'm gonna finish…"
He stops. Hands still in place, just stopped.
"Beg. Beg for your release. And I may grant your little pathetic pussy mercy."
"Papa please, please finish me, please, I need it so bad, oh please…"
He begins again - being edged made the continuation extremely pleasurable.
"Look me in the eyes when you cum. And you will call out my name. You'll remember who sent you to Hell, covered in your own filthy juices."
His voice was an evil, wretched growl, a look of disgust evident on his face as he plunged his still leather-gloved fingers in and out of you.
The coil in your pelvis tightened, more and more and more… you closed your eyes to focus on the waves of pleasure intensifying.
"FUCKING LOOK AT ME." He growled gutturally, and he ripped his hand away from your clit to roughly grab your face, fingers digging into your cheeks painfully, demanding you open your eyes.
You open your eyes wide and scream out, his rough grasp spurring you on as well as his now especially rough punishing thrusts, his fingertips meeting your cervix. He kept his fingers digging into your cheeks, his eyes looking deranged - especially the white one, hissing words through his teeth.
"What did I fucking say. What did I fucking say, piccolina? SAY IT." His words were nothing but loud, enraged growls. You knew it was still just a façade, but he was doing incredibly well and your moans got exponentially louder at his roughness, making it even harder to respond.
"To… look at you…" you whimpered out, maintaining painful eye contact, almost driven dizzy.
"That's right. Good girl. Don't disobey your Father again."
His painful grip on your face was removed, his hand sliding down your abdomen to between your legs again, the leather of his gloves brushing blissfully against your sensitive skin.
"I-I won't, Father, oh fuck call me your little girl…"
You spread your legs as far as you could as if to get his fingers deeper, and the most terrifying grin appeared on his face at your shameless request.
"You want to be my little girl, cara? You're my little demon. My little, young, tight slut, falling apart on your Father's fingers, hm? Fucking pathetic."
His disgusted grimace when he spoke that last insult drove you insane - and he spits on you, landing right between your breasts.
"F-FUCK, P-PLEASE spit in my mouth, oh d-daddy please spit in my mouth…"
You felt like must have been possessed by this point. Like you had no control. His head tilted, that wicked grin returning, and the hand rubbing your clit left it once more - the lack of friction almost painful.
"Daddy, hm? Did I hear that right?"
You nod my head vigorously, but a look of uncertainty crossed your eyes, not knowing if he'd reward or punish you for it.
"You think you deserve to swallow my spit, little girl?"
He grabs your face roughly again, leaning down nice and close… his other hand slowing down its thrusts to a maddeningly intimate pace.
"I w-want you in me in any way I can h-have…"
Perpetua chuckles, and just when you think he's about to deny you, he forces your mouth open with his tight grasp on your jaw and he spits - his saliva sliding down your tongue, making its way down to your throat.
You swallow so eagerly, already wanting more, gasping, tongue out, in hopes for further generosity. But before you could even verbally beg for more, his hands were both already between your legs working again. And you were at a breaking point, with absolutely no way of slowing down - and your body finally snapped, falling over the edge as your body tensed up and you keened:
"FUCK! PAPA, OH MY GOD PAPA YES YES YES YES…papa…papa…"
"Are you cumming, little sinner? Hm? Yeah? Yeah? Aww… Fucking disgrace to God… that's it… yeah… there we go…mhm…mhm…oh it's a good one isn't it…I can feel it…"
His fingers fucked into you roughly, your walls clenching rhythmically around his fingers, your pussy throbbing against his thumb, your back arching…his eyes boring into you, teeth gritted.
His words only amplified the intensity of your orgasm.
The moans of his title became quieter and quieter as you rode out your high, reaching a state of mindless bliss and exhaustion.
When it was clear you had finished, he pulled his hands away slowly, and his face softened. He held up the fingers that were buried within you, covered in your slick, and exhibited them to you.
"Oh cara mia, look at the mess you've made of my gloves."
You expected him to make you clean it off, but he didn't. He slid those fingers slowly into his own mouth, eye contact never wavering.
You looked at him in shock, shivers and heat already running to your core at the display. After he had pulled his fingers back out of his mouth, slowly, Papa V stepped closer to your head, and leaned down - and placed a gentle kiss to your temple.
"How did I do…? Was it as good as you imagined…?"
You continue looking up at him in shock, frozen, naked, laying on his cold wooden desk. But you nod, trying to catch your breath.
"Good. I enjoyed that. Let's get you cleaned up."
He walks back to the end of the table, and picks up your panties to help you slide them back on, followed by your pants. As he helps you dress, your eyes wander below his belt to look for a sign he enjoyed this as much as you did. It was hard to tell at first with how dark black his pants were, but they were tight enough to show an unmistakable bulge. After, you sit up to put your bra and shirt back on. You're still silent in shock, awaiting him to give any indication as to what this meant, what to do now, etc. So you got up, and stood in the center of the room, ready to stay or go.
"There. You may leave to go rest."
He gestures toward the door, but respectfully, yet his voice still maintained some authority. You nod, a bit off-put, wondering if he meant that he wanted you to leave so you wouldn't be in his way, etc. and so you turn to leave.
"Oh, by the way (y/n), I will call for you again soon, and you will arrive promptly, won't you?"
It shocked you to hear him say your name. Your actual name. It made you shiver. You turn around and look at him, clearly in surprise, but VERY eager.
"Yes, of course, I take punctuality very seriously."
"Good to hear, because I won't accept anything but."
He winks and sits down in his chair, folding his hands in his lap. You blush, yet again, nod, and turn to leave.
As you walked back to your bedroom, still hypnotized and in disbelief of what had just transpired, the feeling of being stretched still lingering between your legs, you started to picture and hope that V would touch himself, thinking about tonight's interaction.
