To Whom Do I Owe The Biggest Apology? No One's Been Crueller Than I've Been To Me.

Chapter 353 - Endeavor

Cyno 🥺🫶

I have come to confess for sinful Sunday that I have heirophilia, and I have it bad, and as much as I love religious imagery, I also love the thought of demons who play as false priests or saviors. If there was anything I could ask for, more than anything, could we get some Sekido x fem reader where he degrades and yells at the reader to repent for their sinful lust even though he's obviously the one who's been fucking them while they prayed for mercy?

SINFUL SUNDAY

Warnings: non-con, hierophilia

A sense of unease settles upon you as you enter the church, greeted not by the familiar warmth of a congregation but by an eerie emptiness. The air carries only a faint hint of iron, and an unsettling stillness replaces the usual harmonious chorus of communal hymns. A glimpse near the entrance hints at something amiss – perhaps blood, though uncertainty veils your perception. The ordinary atmosphere, once brimming with the warmth of community and shared songs, now feels cold and distant, shrouded in an unspoken disquiet.

Abruptly, a towering presence advanced from the confessionary. "How may I assist you, my dear child?"

Your uncertainty lingers, but you muster a response, "I came for a confession, but… isn't the mass supposed to be happening now?"

The figure, a man with dark hair, smiles as he draws nearer. "We've adjusted the schedule. Nevertheless, I'm here to help. Follow me, my child."

A furrow forms on your brow as you observe him guiding you to a different section of the church, revealing the rectory where priests reside between masses.

As the door shuts behind you, a chilling shiver races up and down your spine - a premonition that danger lurks right behind your back.

Sekido, the false priest, clad in the vestiges of religious garb, becomes the harbinger of damnation. "You need to repent for your lust, I can smell it lingering on you, little sheep."

Torn garments leave you exposed, and you frantically attempt to shield yourself, using your hands and tightly pressing your thighs together in a desperate bid for modesty. "Please, Father, please let me go..."

Sekido's lips curl into a sly smirk in response to your pleas. "I am not a Father, but for you, my dear child, I can certainly play the role of a daddy."

He picks you up easily and throws you onto a tiny bed standing near the beautiful stained glass window.

Laying on the bed, you feel the sting of his firm hand on the meat of your ass, on and on, each spank punctuated by a low growl of Sekido. His commanding voice reverberates, demanding, "Confess your sins, woman! I insist on hearing your confessions!"

You plead with him, your voice a fragile murmur, "Please, please, release me…"

Sekido, in his relentless resolve, dismisses your entreaties, administering a more forceful spank to your exposed flesh, leaving a red mark in a shape of his hand there. "You're destined for damnation, the gates of heaven shall forever elude your grasp."

Tears stream down your face, a silent plea for mercy, as you desperately attempt to crawl away. The disconcerting sound of a zipper being undone reverberates through the air, accompanied by the subtle rustling of fabric, signaling the descent of his obsidian pants.

Before you realize it, the crimson, swollen tip of his dick teases against the tender entrance of your ass.

A sharp cry escapes your lips, a melody of anguish, as he thrusts into you unyieldingly, affording no respite for your senses to acclimate. The relentless intrusion establishes a vigorous, unrelenting rhythm, each forceful thrust sending tremors of intensity through your form as you cry and scream, suffocating on your own tears.

Sekido seizes a handful of your hair, yanking your head back, causing your back to arch in response to his forceful advance. As he pushes deep into you, his balls resting against your ass, he leans forward, his voice a sultry whisper against your ear, "You relish the intensity, don't you? I can see you do, your breath quickening like a bitch in heat. You like the demon's cock splitting you open, yeah, woman?"

The agony courses through you, pushing you to the brink of unconsciousness, while an unfamiliar heat simmers in the depths of your abdomen.

Sekido releases his climax inside you, a guttural groan escaping his lips, accompanied by a triumphant exclamation, "Yes! Yes! Take it, bitch, take it all!"

The scarlet-eyed demon departs, leaving you sprawled on the bed, your consciousness wavering, tears marking your face.

Sekido adjusts his trousers, offering gentle pats to the now reddened flesh on your ass. "You did well. Your next confession awaits this Sunday, remember to grace the damn chapel with your presence."

taglist: @aliorailrow

they’re so lame <3

Lake Mashu, eastern Hokkaido, Japan. It is a rare day when the lake surface is visible like this due to the fog.

"Why can't you be this nice all the time?"

You cooed to the demon who laid sprawled out beneath you. Akaza's head shifted to the side at your words with a weak whimper. After hours of teasing, he no longer had the strength to throw back the biting comments you were so used to.

You hooked your thumb between his lips, using the position to tilt his head back to face you. His whole face flushed a soft pink, gaze half lidded and distant as they met yours. A soft cry was muffled as you pressed your finger down on his tongue. Akaza's inscribed eyes rolled back before falling shut. The mix of you slowly grinding your hips over his, dick squeezed in your tight walls with every raise of your hips, and the grip on his face too much to handle.

It was rare that you got to see him like this, so thoroughly fucked out for you. With his stamina it usually takes hours to work him up to the point of coming completely undone. All of his love and trust placed directly into your hands. Yet the way he looked at you, hands weakly running up and down your thighs trying to push you further down onto him, and the chorus of broken moans, they all made the effort worth it.

With a shift of your hips, Akaza's eyes flew open. Tears pooled in his eyes as he moaned around your thumb. Muffled begs and please of him being close, desperation clear in the whines that manage to spill through.

"Mm' pl-please... so close.. I-" His hands continue to grab weakly at your thighs and back. Trying to pull you in, to feel your chest on his and steal the warmth that came with your orgasm for himself. That was what he craved in these moments, the connection so rarely allowed. His position as an upper three robbed him from the intimacy he never knew he needed more than life itself.

"Cum for me good boy." Was all it took from you for Akaza to be pushed over the edge. That heat he yearned for ran through his whole body, blinding him as he threw his head back and frantically tried to rut his hips into yours. You worked him through his orgasm, milking every second of it as you watched the powerful creature become nothing but a gasping mess beneath you. Leaning over, you press a soft kiss to his lips and let him pull you close.

"You did so good for me, Akaza. So so proud," you whispered as you pull him into your chest. But through the haze of his mind, it all sounded distant, far away as sleep overtook him. The only thing that mattered in that moment was the safety of being tucked into your chest, your heartbeat steady beneath his head.

i drew cowboy shinsou too

Dream Portals ✨ ☘️ 🍄

Fall asleep to the words of another world 📖

Happy 66th, Daniel Day-Lewis.

On the set of Stephen Frears’s My Beautiful Laundrette (1985).

Florence Pugh in MIDSOMMAR (2019, Ari Aster)