#sobbing weeping gnashing my teeth

[local-redhead-bookworm]

Rustal knew. Rustal knew what Iznario was doing for years, he heard McGillis’ unvoiced pleas for help, and he still did nothing.

[exsqueezememacaroni]

a a...are...are we not going to talk about this unhinged show in which Mike is wearing a tiny ass crop top?!?!?!

[edgelordfucker]

Im so booooooooreddddddd the only thing I have to do at work today is time consuming and repetatiiiiiiiiiiiveeeeeeee

[recents]

they’re cats and therefore valid but purely from an aesthetic standpoint oh my god i hate sphinx cats so much sorry for being correct sorry. no bald pussy ever

[litlecreacher]

in agony because my local art gallery that regularly does community stuff and has really affordable workshops/resources only ever schedules stuff at like. the exact times im working.

[hoshigray]

Just thinking about hate sex with Toji and how fucking exhilarating yet unforgiving it would be to experience such a thing with that man.

A/n: (Reuploaded bc I forgot smthn my bad) A little something for y'all so I can whip up something in my drafts to celebrate 50+ followers and getting 1k notes on my daddy toji drabble!! Tysm again for the love!!! :')))

Cw: mean dom! Toji x fem! reader - spanking (1x) - doggy style then switch to missionary position - degradation (Toji calls you a "lil' girl," "bitch," and "ho") - pet names (dollface, baby, baby cakes, sweetheart) - Toji biting your shoulder - slight bondage; the reader has their hands tied behind them - the reader feels humiliated while Toji is his cocky egotistic self - mention of blood.

Wc: 575

Toji's so ruthless with you. Your face's kissing the cold floor, hands tied behind your arched back for Toji to do whatever he wants with your ass on full display.

The pace of his hips is so absurdly harsh your legs feel as if they're about to give way, and you can do nothing but receive his irrational treatment. You can feel his dick use your swollen cunt like a toy, his girth stretching your poor southern lips, and it hurts along with the merciless rhythm.

You try not to cry as tears prickle under your eyelids. The fucker of a man already has you in a humiliating position, and his hands leave crescent markings from his fingers on the side of your hips. Seeing your face in tears is the last thing he needs to see.

Toji bends down to your ear, his body weight pressing down on yours, and it has to take you biting your lip hard to suppress a moan from your lips. The taste of blood sits on your taste buds.

"What's wrong, dollface?" The husky voice almost makes you squeeze hard on his cock. God, you hate this man so fucking much. "You were talkin' some high and mighty shit not too long ago, where'd that pretentious bitch go? Wanna — hnngh! Shit, shit… Wanna hear that sweet voice again."

You peer at him through your shoulder. The aggrieved glare isn't taken seriously by the older man. "Hmph, pretentious? Quite a big word, didn't think a brute like you knew i- Iiiyaaaaah!!!"

A hard smack to your ass has you gasping for air, followed by your pussy gripping his manhood, and Toji has to use your shoulders as leverage to not cum in haste. You feel as if you can't breathe with all this pressure and weight on top of you. A tear finally comes down from your face and smears onto the ground.

"I'm not playin' games with you, ho." Toji gnashes his teeth and draws downward to bite your shoulder blade, earning an ear-piercing shriek from you. That outta teach ya a lesson. "Got anythin' else smart to say, lil' girl?"

You can't fight the tears at this point, letting them slide down your pretty face. The pathetic and humiliating atmosphere clouds your senses so much so that crying is the only thing left to do.

"Hic…N-No…" Your sobs come out naturally, and you do what you can to hide your face from Toji.

That didn't seem to be in your favor because he heard the weep, bringing himself up to switch your position. Your front is now facing him as he can see the tear-stricken face, and the glare you give him is through squinted eyes filled with anger and misery, proof that your dignity is broken.

Toji whistles and smirks. "Heh, if you could see the look on your face, baby. I'd love to have a picture of it in my wallet."

"F…Fuck you." Your spat with words that still possess venom, even if you're physically restrained.

"News flash, baby cakes:" An unforeseen thrust has you yelp aloud, so harsh and savage that your back arches towards Toji. He sneers. "Already am."

His pace returns at its relentless tempo, his dick bullying your insides, and you moan in helpless whimpers. Toji leans down to grab your face before he kisses you to shut your cries. "And I'm gonna enjoy every moment of it, sweetheart."

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

Again, tysm for the support!! It really fills my heart when y'all like my stuff, and I hope to continue writing things I like~~

[fuck-you-upmusicbracket]

Sweet Cis Teen (Dazey and the Scouts)

If my gender had legs, it would sprint/Catch up with all the progress that feminism is making/All the FUCKING progress that/T.E.R.F. feminism is making

"Love it when there is screaming in gender song <3"

Lullabye (Ponyphonic)

Lullabye moon princess, goodnight sister mine/Rest now in moonlight's embrace/Bear up my lullaby, winds of the earth/Through cloud, and through sky, and through space/Carry the peace and the coolness of night/And carry my sorrow in kind/Luna, you're loved so much more than you know/Forgive me for being so blind

"SCREAMING CRYING SOBBING THROWING UP WEEPING AND GNASHING OF TEETH I CAN'T WITH THIS SONG. It's more well known for the animation that was made to it but OW THE SONG ENOUGH FUCKS ME UP BAD. Imagine being in charge of raising and lowering the sun and moon EVERY SINGLE DAY FOR A THOUSAND YEARS after you had to BANISH YOUR OWN LITTLE SISTER TO THE MOON. The story in the MLP show is sad enough already but this song adds so much more depth to it and it's fucking heartbreaking. Just fucking imagine having to face that you failed the person you loved most 365,250 times. SEVEN HUNDRED THIRTY THOUSAND AND FIVE HUNDRED TIMES IF YOU COUNT SUNRISES TOO. Either side of this tale is just impossibly fucking sad. And then it got set to the most hauntingly beautiful musical arrangement ever."

[bumblingest-bee]

rehearsing the reprise of tradition from the chorus offstage after tevye rejects chava. shrieking. sobbing. on the ground. pounding the floor. trembling. weeping and gnashing my teeth.

[just-a-carrot]

ohh since we're gettin' literary in the askbox I will send an out of pocket Nietzsche quote that I associate with OW: “What, if some day or night, a demon were to steal after you into your loneliest loneliness and say to you: ‘This life, as you now live it and have lived it, you will have to live once more and innumerable times more; and there will be nothing new in it, but every pain and every joy and every thought and sigh… must return to you—all in the same succession and sequence—even this spider and this moonlight between the trees and even this moment and I myself. The eternal hourglass of existence is turned over again and again—and you with it, speck of dust!’ Would you not throw yourself down and gnash your teeth and curse the demon who spoke thus? Or have you once experienced a tremendous moment when you would have answered him: ‘You are a god, and never have I heard anything more divine!" :D

weeping at OW being associated with all this literary stuff I shall sob 😭 I'm not sure my words could hold a candle to words like this DJDJDJD I'm really touched that you would make such an association 🥺💕

thank you for sharing!! I know basically no nietzsche I will confess lol

[junomore]

i feel rage

in honor of the times we live in: i feel rage

I feel rage

I feel rage for my mother, who had an abortion when she was barely in her twenties. The Woman plagued by misogyny and mistrust from the start, a painful torture “gifted” to her by her father. Who’s mother said “if you weren’t such a slut, your father wouldn’t touch you”.

I feel rage against my father, who beat her and lied in another woman’s bed while I was in my mother’s womb. Who’s side the police took when my mother had enough, and brandished a golf club in self defense. “Do you want us to haul your ass to prison?” Was said to my mother, the bloodied, bruised, and battered Woman.

I feel rage

I feel rage for my sister, who never announced the sins and crimes done unto her body until I shared my own. “I’ll have to drive outside of the state to get a new IUD, they are shutting down the planned parenthoods here” she says with an annoyed sigh, she’s been fighting this too long, she can’t give another ounce of care, else she’ll break.

I feel rage

I feel rage for the grandmother I never got to meet. Who’s history isn’t spoken too much about. But the story of a glacial storm in Wisconsin, her slippers in the snow while her heart iced over as she stared at her eldest son. “You will not come into this house” she speaks, knowing the woman he shared a bed with was not his wife. I wonder if she knew that his sick-ridden relationship with infidelity only began there

I feel rage

I feel rage for my younger self. Who was fresh into high school and hoping for acceptance. Who involved herself into an unrequited love with a boyfriend. “Crazy”,“you’re blowing this out of proportion”, “if you bring this up again, we’re done”, he spat at her, while she sobbed in the passenger seat after finding out his unfaithfulness and hatred towards her. She didn’t know that she deserved better, she believed every word she says.

I feel rage against that boy. Who still speaks ill of me after years of my absence. “She was abusive”, he states, insistent on his innocence and dedication to her. “She was crazy”, his audience nods, unbeknownst of me.

I feel rage that I fell into the trap that my mother fell into. I feel rage that I’m pushed to be ashamed for falling into the trap made for my mother and I. Boys will be boys. Blood-stained teeth behind sickly sweet smiles. Hands made to hold and caress, now bruised and cracked against smooth cheeks and weeping eyes. Hands that split thighs with no care, no delight, only pure greed and hunger. I feel rage that the Woman must feel this dishonor.

I feel rage that he can still run with innocence, knocking teeth together in bars and shout to young girls down the street. He can take away the Woman’s rights and claim purity. “It’s for God”, he claims, but the hypocrisy lies in the crimson children lying in schools, the children violated in foster homes, and the children who are still lacking their formula.

“Children are a gift from the Lord; they are a reward from him.” But dare they be a daughter or get in the way of their wealth, they shall be sent for slaughter.

I feel a rage that is so deep and innate. This gift is mistaken for no Goddess but a God. She carried and groomed, sobbed and ached, loved with blood and insides. Disgustingly ravishing in the aftermath, she lies, knowing her effort will be rewarded to God. Is this what Mary felt?

I feel a rage that is thrashing, a gnashing of teeth. A sight so vulgar and unclean, God would turn away. I want to maim and slaughter for my daughter, who I don’t wish to carry into this world. I don’t want her to feel this rage, a caged animal. I want to ruin, my velvet gloves around their iron throats. I want to look before Lilith and pray for her honor. I want to fight for victory, so I can sit at the throne and sit with peace. I want to vomit up this rage and place it on the mantle, settled in newer times, my rage a distant memory.

I no longer want to feel this rage, but I must recognize my weapon in this battle for peace

[pellelavellan]

The Journals of Pelle Lavellan

24 Haring, 9:40 Dragon

I have not slept for days. I would have thought my restless would begin to weigh on my body, make me sluggish. It would appear it is used to exhaustion, and I almost wish it were not so. A racing mind should certainly tire the soul, but mine only begs for it to come up with an answer. It will not rest until it finds one.

My mother's dying wish: stop wasting your life trying to save mine. That was what she asked of me. She never took it back, no matter how much I sobbed and begged her to ask me to stay. I certainly would have if she did. I would have laid there beside her and rotted away with her in each passing day, and prayed that the illness to had stolen her light would take me with her. She believed I was meant for better things than to lay down and die, she always did.

What does she know? Better than I? Or nothing at all. My words may be bold, and my resolve stubbornly clinging to life as it knows of nothing else, but I am not strong. I rather would agree far more than I am quite weak.

I am a liar, a selfish deviant who would refuse himself the calm of doing as he is told in a frivolous pursuit of desire. I am a foolish man who believed if he walked into fire it would not spread and burn the forest with him. Someone who believes that if his knees should buckle holding the weight of the world that it only himself who will suffer and be crushed by the weight too great for him to bear.

I do not know what life it is she thinks I am wasting. The truth is, in those bitter tears I shed as my mother, now blind and still caressing my head with love I knew I should never be given so unconditionally again, that I have fallen out of love with life. It is a stranger to me now.

And yet, life is a lover that I cannot cast aside. It holds onto me no matter how much I kick and scream for it to let me go.

My cousin does not speak to me. I think he knows that I am made of fractured glass, and he won't dare try to repair it. And so we wander, in silence, chasing the pursuits of someone I pretend to be. Someone full of hope, determined to carve change, and write his own path.

But he knows--he knows that if I have to bury another friend I shall climb into their grave with them and bid my farewells to this world. If the gods be kind enough, they will not spit on a gift wasted and curse me to wander it until I learn what it is I've thrown away in anger, weeping as I am forced to watch the beauty I had lost sight of, unable to touch it, damned to feel the agony of desire. A ghost, gnashing his teeth, begging for a release that will never come.

He knows that I haven't the faintest idea what I will find, where I will go, who I am, who I should be. There is something to be said about the loyalty of following the lost until they find their way, but I cannot think of a proverb to describe it. I just hope he knows I see him too, and that his presence means more to me than I could express.

I know nothing of tomorrow, or any day that follows. But I hope I find it.

[theassassinnovice]

Feeling personally victimized by the writing in malevolent making me go insane

Its the desperate attempts to be better against all odds for me

[asinglesock]

I've been working myself into a state of anxious dread this week over applying to graduate schools, so today I looked up the deadlines and discovered that I would probably fine even if I didn't think about it for another month

[cognitosclowns]

NAKXKAKDKAKIDJSJFKSJF KAY SO LIKE I'M IN LOVE WITH BRETT AMD I WILL NOT APOLOGIZE FOR THAT. [SOBBING, CRYING, WEEPING, SNOTTIBG, PISSING]

anyways sleepy brett is best brett, poor baby just woke up, all groans and sighs, his pouty frown and hazy eyes only further added onto by you coaxing him out of bed. uugh he'd literally hang off of you as you helped him get ready, huffing and still pouting as you peppered sweet lil kisses all over his tired face

I'm literally crying. help. 🥺💔

GRABS YOU GRABS YOU GNASHING MY TEETH CHARACTERS BEING SLEEPY AND HAPPY IS MY HEROIN

GODD,,,,, his brows get all tight together and he makes that,, Confused Face?? Just halfway between Sad That He's Awake and Trying To Parse What He's Seeing? <3

AND YOU'D BETTER BELIEVE HE GIVES THAT DOPEY SMILE WHEN HE RECOGNIZES YOUR FACEEEE <333

LISTEN,, even Brett has days where he's Lazy And Doesn't Wanna Go To Work. In that case hes just gonna curl up into your warmth (probably under your chin) and quietly mumble about how comfy he is. How soft you are <333 how,, much he just wants to stay in bed with you and order takeout and not be a person for like idk 24 hrs <3

'gonna get up for work?'

'mm.'

"mm?'

"mm >:(((((' before throwing an arm around you and snuggling in.

best way to get him out of bed? Kiss him once, then slowly pull away and make a few kissy noises. He'll just,, Tiredly Fumble his way forward bc >:( he wants a kiss dammit, and then Oh Look He's Out Of Bed. He's Been Positively Bamboozled. Now The Day Actually Has To Start, How Dare You </3

HE GOES SO GOOEY FOR DOMESTIC SHIT OK?? <33 like,, helping to do his tie while he does his belt?? Softly kissing his cheek and maybe,, puttin your hands on his shoulders and swaying to Unheard Music?? GRKKK <3333 HES DONE HES SOFT HES SO IN LOVEEEEE

After a cup of coffee he's His Usual Self but :((((( he's still gonna jokingly pout at you for making him Go To Work Like A Responsible Adult </3

IDK IF ANY OF THIS WAS SENSIBLE THIS WAS JUST,, VVVV CUTE <333 GRK <33

[kosmosguk]

5 days of spooktober~ #1: drowning

day #1: merman namjoon x reader

word count: 1.8k

summ. your biggest mistake is trying to find a prince in the mysterious creature of the sea.

warnings: smut, dubcon themes, drowning, yandere themes, 18+, explicit language, naïve reader, near-death experiences

The water lapped at your feet and soaked the hem of your heavy skirt, crashing against the shore as the moon shone ominously in the sky, and you could feel the damp smell of salt settle into the back of your throat when you made eye contact with him.

He was not a human being, that you were sure of; no human being swam the way he did, and no human being ever looked at you the way he did. You opened your mouth to say something—maybe you were trying to scream, or maybe you were trying to gasp—but all he did was raise one finger to his pale lips as if he were shushing you. With a slap of his tail against the water, a brief glimmer of waxy moonlight reflecting in aquatic scales, he was gone.

That was not the last time you had seen him.

The next time you saw him, he had been trapped on the sand. No one had been around. You took a moment to trace your eyes on his features. He was beautiful, and without the tail and the crust of sand on his body, he would have been like an exceptionally handsome storybook prince.

It was like your little secret when you bent down, sand smearing on the dainty fabric of your gown, and rolled him down the sand and into the water. You had never felt the skin of a man before that had not been your family, and you held your breath as his touch left your palms. His skin was cold, despite the heat of the sun trying to dry him out, and you felt your skin get hot. 

It was not from the sun. 

The touch of water against him seemed to invigorate him, and with a splash he was back in the water, too far away from your touch. Even then, you could still feel the cool left on your fingertips.

“Bye, bye, Sir. Tell me how the ocean is.” You had whispered. That whisper had been for yourself, but the ocean had heard. The sun shimmered on its pale surface, reflecting off the steady eyes that had glued themselves to the still crouched human on the shore.

You met him the third time on that very same beach, but he was more careful this time. He stayed where there was still water that could soak his tail. You kneeled in front of him, owlish gaze pinned to the unique specimen.

“Can you,’’ you paused, squinting underneath the sun to look at him properly,” understand me?’’

He clicked his tongue and nodded his head. You giggled in delight, a sound that made him freeze until he caught the sight of your smile.

“Are there…Are there others like you? And are there fairies and creatures that suck blood, and oh the ones that spin a wand and poof! a miserly girl becomes a princess?’’

“Some…,’’ his voice crackled out, dry,’’ But no wand.”

“Oh my! How lovely,’’ you cooed,’’ You know, sir, you really are handsome, even though I’m sure you’re not human. In fact, it’s perhaps the fact that you are not human that makes you so handsome. Papa introduced me to a man to get married to, and he told me that man was handsome, but oh, was he nearly the same age as Papa. I think you’re much more handsome, and if I could do any math I might be able to tell you how much.”

He shook his head and bared his teeth. You laughed.

“You’re very handsome.”

You paused as an idea sparked in your head.

“Hey, hey, I’ve always wanted to know what it was like to get kissed by a prince. I’ll be like a princess, and maybe you’ll grow legs, and we can dance in a ballroom, and I’ll wear a pretty sparkling gown, and birds will place roses in my hair.”

Before you could say anything further, his fingers were already in your gown and he was pulling you in. You cried out as water splashed onto your body, but that cry was muffled as your lips met his. He tasted like the ocean, a salt that lingered in your mouth, and you let out a pleased sigh as he peeked his tongue through your lips and suckled on your tongue. His kiss was not gentle, it was not at all like the way a prince would kiss a princess, but you did not care. He kissed like an animal, and all you could do was let out wanton sounds like the promiscuous woman your papa banned you from ever becoming.

You felt a sting of sharp teeth against your bottom lip, and you let out a cry as he swiped his tongue over the ruby droplet of blood on your lip. You felt hot when he finally let you go, a heat unfurling in your stomach. Suddenly, you were aware of the dampness of your skirt—oh, your governess was going to be furious—and the sting in your lip. You pushed yourself away, standing up with your hands covering your mouth, and you ran away without another word, leaving the merman sitting there with his eyes greedily attached to your fleeing form.

But even then, you could not stay away. Not even the vow you had made to not entangle yourself with the supernatural could keep you from coming back after a bitter argument with your papa about your engagement. And he was still there.

It seemed his eyes had never left you when you sobbed and flung yourself into the sand before him. He was chirping to you now, singing to you a pleasant song that reduced your weeping, and you were drawing yourself closer to him. He was whispering a hum to you, his touch hot as he reached underneath your gown and stroked the place that had been burning for his touch. You gasped and shivered in pleasure as he spread your hot folds open, the wanton squelch of your pussy hidden in the waves of the sea.

You were foolish. You did not care in that moment what was going to happen in the future.

You were crying now for a different reason. The sting of his cock crashing through your purity and stretching you uncomfortably left your nails dragging down his alabaster-like skin. Oh, oh, he was so big. You whimpered, and he only shushed your lips like he had done when the two of you had first met.

He rutted into your pussy, and your walls quivered at the impact. You scrambled at the sand, your palm clasped over your mouth as you muffled your moans so the guards would not hear. One particular thrust hit deeper than before, and a slip of a cry left between the tiny gaps of your fingers.

You had no name for him, and so you cried out the name of the prince in your storybook.

“Namjoon, mm!’’ you panted out, and you tried to push away from him when he held onto your hips and pulled you deeper down his cock. “Oh! Oh! Namjoon, ngh—!’’

He clicked his tongue in response, a warble of sounds pushing through his throat and obstructing any attempts of English. You were so wet and tight around him. In that moment, he was sure that you were his mate, the one love a merman could ever have and could never let go.

You sucked in a shaky breath and your head tilted back as your walls fluttered around and clenched down on his cock. You heard him make a strangled groan, his sharp teeth gnashing together, and you squeezed your eyes shut as you collapsed into a new high you had never known before. You felt something sticky fill your walls up, and you could only let out a pathetic little moan as he rutted lightly into your sore pussy.

“My…my mate,’’ you heard him rasp through clenched teeth, and you let out whimpers as what you had done settled into your brain in a panic. You had touched with another man…Well, he wasn’t a man, but he had soiled the purity you were supposed to retain for your husband. You tried to get up, but the man in front of you shook his head and dug his claws in so deep into your dress that the nails scraped against your skin.

“I-I have to go!’’ You tried to rip away your gown from his grip, but he didn’t let go. He had seen you run away before; he couldn’t have that again.

“No…No run away…I won’t let you, my mate,’’ he pushed out through his throat, and you felt your eyes widen in fear as he dragged you closer to him. He was pressing his lips against yours, the kiss rougher than the one had had given you before, and you could only let muffled noises as he sealed your lips with his. You were drowning in his kiss, in the strange interest of this wild creature that you were not supposed to encounter, and you realized that he was pulling you closer to the water.

You were soaking in water now, and your gown remained in tatters as the cold salty water brushed over your heated skin, and you were crying now, sobbing, as he kept kissing you. He let out shushing noises, almost as if he was trying to calm you, but you only wept louder as you were pulled deeper and deeper into the water.

“Please, please!’’ you tried to call out, but his lips muffled yours. You couldn’t fight anymore, not when he was clutching you so hard, and you had hopelessly given up your future with one heated moment of passion. With one more final drag and a final thrash of his powerful tail against the water, you were underneath.

You choked for a second, thrashing as you reached the water, but he was holding onto you. You shivered in fear as a small drag of his sharp teeth against your soft tongue left you bleeding, and you could only attempt to make another plea for help as you were submerged in water.

~

There was a murmur of dissent when the maids found your empty bed. Ah, perhaps, the others whispered, you had eloped with a lover to escape your engagement. Stories grew, ranging from a midnight rendezvous with a commoner to a monster half-fish half-man that had dragged the young lady into the briny depths. After all, the manor was close to the water. But the less superstitious people shook their head and mocked the fearful.

“What monsters are there in the sea other than the ones we can hook and devour?’’

And it seemed like the ocean heard their doubt. With a crash of water against the sandy shores, the footsteps that had been yours and the scraps of torn fabric were swallowed up by the sea.

[10millionyearsdungeon]

Acts of Contrition

A/N: Heeeey, it’s been a while. Like...a long time while. Shaking the rust off, this is for @chiwhorei​ and their Heavenly Bodies collab (*see here*). No beta, we die like everyone else. Per the theme, and as a send off to my fellow fallen saint and recovering Catholic, it’s a kind of riff on a prayer? Not my best Shindou, but it’s Shindou all the same. Really need to revisit this guy. ANYWAYS--

TW: Sacrilegious themes, Oral (giving/receiving), Dacryphilia, Spit, Corruption, implied monster fucking (because why not?), mild exhibitionism, squirting, mild cockwarming ================================================

Your whole life, you always tried so hard to be everything your parish priest and father wanted you to be; pious, virtuous, radiant-- the epitome of the girl-next-door with a rosary tucked between your breasts and a prayer on your lips. It was your wholesome, squeaky-clean image that initially drew his attention and had you malingering on your knees with your mouth gaping and drooling into the carpet bristles of your parish confession booth.

"Got something to confess, sweetheart?" Shindou grinned in the darkness as you gazed up at him from your knees, nose pressed into the curling pubic hair tickling your mouth as he twitched down your throat. He held you there until your eyes began to roll back and tears threatened to break free from your waterline in trails of smudged ink down your flushing cheeks. You could taste his disappointment when they didn't fall, and he curled his thick fingers into your hair to rip you from his length. Incense and shame burned down your throat and into your lungs as you gasped for reprieve. His smirk was a gleaming scythe, all but signaling the beginning of your end.

"Please, more," you begged, scrambling to clutch his parted knees and nudge his cock closer to your waiting mouth. "More." His hum vibrated the dust lingering in the cramped space, as if he needed time to carefully consider what was originally his idea. "Shindou, yo--"

Gagged by his fingers, your tongue laved over his thick digits and your voice rose into unintelligible moaning. Your saliva ran down his wrist and your chin in thin rivers to the carpet digging into your knees. "Ah, ah. I asked for your confession, not for your begging. Perhaps I need to keep this pretty mouth busy while you take your penance." Eager to please, you nodded furiously into his hand, gagging and spluttering over his fingers as he twisted your body in half. The humble pleated skirt draped over your ass like a dainty envelope, the flash of white cotton panties plastered with slick against your pussy an invitation he couldn't deny-- he tore away the flimsy fabric with his teeth and whistled low at the silvery strings of slick still binding you to your underwear. You always forgot how strong Shindou was when he had a goal set before him.

"Mm, let's begin," he purred into your cunt, the sudden lash of his tongue against your neglected clit nearly tipping you into exaltation.

"H-hewl mwwwree fughlo gwssss," you babbled over his fingers as they dug almost painfully into your tongue. Cheek pressed hard into his knee, you heaved into his skin as your eyes rolled back into your skull with another skillful swipe of his tongue teasing your spasming whole. "Haaorrtsswiffee."

"C'mon, sweetness, you can do better than that. Really enunciate. It doesn't count if He can't understand you." Your toes curled in your knee socks as another wave of ecstacy washed over you with a flick of his sinner's tongue against your swelling clit. With a bend of his wrist, he tickled down your throat and dug his teeth into the swell of your ass when you gagged around them. "So tight. Do better. You know you want to. You asked for this, sweetheart." He retracted his fingers from your panting mouth, tracing the slick, bruised skin of your lips before he gave your hair a gentle pet.

"H-hail Mary, full of grace. The Lord is with thee…" you began again trembling over every word earning another vicious bite to your inner thigh. Shindou moaned into your scent tracing his tongue over the darkening bruise.

"Y'know, I'm feeling like a Hail Mary isn’t good enough. Let's try again," Shindou hoisted you into his lap, chest pressed firmly into your back as he lined the head of his cock, glistening with dewy precum, with the touch-starved maw of your cunt aching to stretch around him. Ever the tease, he tapped at your entrance, grinning at the sticky slapping of flesh on flesh as you squirmed to better accommodate him in the booth.

"Oh, my God!" You nearly screamed, sheathing him within you in one turbulent bounce. He barked out a laugh, dark eyes glittering in the shadows as he lifted your hips again with his teeth on your neck. "I-i-i'm heart-heartily so-sorry for haaah-ving offend..fuck, offended thee…" His pace was an idle one, but the vicious gnashing of his teeth burying into your neck made the aching around his cock pale in comparison. He needed you shamed, broken and sobbing out for release before he'd taste satisfaction.

"And I de-detest all my sins moh-ost s-sincerely because they d-disp-please thee." Pried open for him to abuse, Shindou let his hands wander beneath the carefully starched collared shirt and loosened tie to tease your pert, overly sensitive nipples through the fabric of your simple bra. He searched your face as he thrust up into you, knowing it wouldn't be long before those tears would begin to fall. "My God!" you gasped.

"Keep going," he groaned, tugging your blouse open and shoving your bra out of the way. He devoured the full-body shudder of your exposure, dragging his tongue up along your ear with a sigh. "You're so gorgeous when you break," he whispered, earning a hiccuping whine and the bubble of sobs he had waited so patiently for. Gyrating onto his cock, you couldn't stop the tears staining your cheeks with mascara as he rutted into you. Glancing down at where your bodies fused into one, you whimpered out the next verse as your cream dribbled down his balls.

"M-my God, who art so-oh deserving of all my love…"

"All your love, princess?"

"Ah-ah-ah!" He busied his free hand between your spread legs, rubbing tight circles on your clit. With a jump, you keened back into him and sobbed out wordlessly. Shindou ran his tongue to capture a stray tear from your hairline and moaned into the taste as he redoubled his efforts. "All my love f-for thy infinite good-fuck-goodness and--"

"And what? C'mon, finish like a good girl." Every thrust into your clenching heat had your body tensing like piano wire tuned by a master. His pulse vibrated through your core, loosening your tongue as he continued to tease and tug at your darkening nipples. “Most ah-amiable perfections…” He smirked into your hair, breath condensing on your neck like incense cloaking you in his scent. “I firmly pu-purpose by Thy Holy Grace never more--” Eyes rolling back, you stuttered and bucked fitfully back into the hardened planes of his lap. Your voice rose, cutting through the confessional booth and earning a satisfied grunt from the two-faced demon splaying your cunt wide for the congregation to observe if anyone dare open the door. “Never more,” you cried. Shindou paused, content to flex his length into your warmth while you sobbed out another broken, “Never more.” He dug his nails into your breasts, roughing your tender flesh to coax another wave of shuddering sobs and glistening tears from your weeping eyes. He sighed into your skin, dragging his lips along the moistened trails of shame and relief running down your jaw and cheek. “Please,” you whispered, rocking your hips fruitlessly to your own end. He hushed you as if silencing a toddler and stilled your hips with a single stroke. “Ah ah ah. Good girls finish their prayers.” With the head of his cock just kissing the gummy ring of your cervix, you grinded against him and cried out again, much to his annoyance. “Figures. Couldn’t be a good, pious little shit. Had to be a filthy, needy, broken little whore like the others.” “I’m broken. More, please give me more!” He scoffed at your pleading, content to have you writhe and wring yourself out on his heavy cock. Breasts bouncing and the unmistakable sounds of flesh penetrating flesh to defile that most sacred space, the sights and sounds of you coming undone for him proved all too tempting to ignore. He could taste it on you-- the rhythmic spasming of your cunt around his cock, the wobble in your legs, the uneven cadence of your breathing when he finally fucked back into your eager hole, all of it signaled your end. “Finish your prayers, sweetheart.” With two thrusts you let out a long, piercing moan, drawing the attention from those outside of the booth. Carelessly, you thrashed against him, milking his tumescence as if it would be enough to grant you divine forgiveness. “Finish like a good girl.” Shindou’s hand wandered between your trembling thighs as he rutted into you, his fingers dancing over your swollen clit despite your body bucking and fighting against him. The pressure in your belly was indescribable under his constant attention. “Finish for me.” Your body was his to play, to abuse to his delight. Shindou reveled in your shame as your squirt painted the door and carpet, shadows playing sinister tricks on your eyes as you searched the space for his face over your shoulder. “I firmly purpose by Thy Holy grace never more to offend Thee,” you whispered, coming down from your high with dripping thighs and shame staining your features. The door creaked open on its ancient hinges. Candles flickered in the chapel like whispering witnesses to a most capital crime. Tangled in the remnants of your uniform, your eyes glazed over and stared past the nuns exclaiming over your ruined state. You could feel his fingers ghosting over your exposed buds, taste his sweat and preek over your tongue. Your cunt throbbed around the memory of him, empty and hungry for his approval. His devil’s mark ached on your throat, a bruise you hazily hoped wouldn’t fade before his return. Captivated by the spectre of his presence, you melted into the tweed cushioned seat as far removed from the shouting and outrage of your audience as one could be. He’d be back for the rest of you and leave a more permanent mark. There were more pretty, pious words to pry past your lips, more tears to taste on your road to damnation, and he would be remiss  to miss out.