Chapter Text
His gloved hands twine in your hair, grunts escaping his lips as he pushes your mouth further down over him. You keep the back of your throat open to take him as best you can, but Papa knows your limits. He knows how much of him you can take, and if it’s too much, he knows you’ll tell him.
Your name is breathed like a prayer as he basks in the pleasure of your warm mouth around his cock. Muttered Italian curses escape him as you focus only on the sensation of him filling your mouth again and again, not letting up.
“Mmm—mmmm...” you try to moan. Your makeup is running, you’re drooling slightly. His toes curl as he enjoys ever second of it, watching you service him.
“Good...” he moans, “So very good, pet.”
You deepthroat him, ripping a low growl from his throat, when a loud knock at the door sounds.
“Accedere,” Papa says casually, and two nameless ghouls come in. One, Rain, hesitates slightly when they see what they just walked in on, but the other, Special, seems to expect it. You pause, looking back over your shoulder.
“Business?” Papa asks, resting his hands on your head.
“Yes, Papa. Sister wanted you to approve some more promotional shots of yourself for the upcoming tour.”
Papa nods, beckoning. “Bring them here.” You make a small noise, a blush heating your cheeks. You’re only in tiny panties, nothing else, and what you’re doing with your mouth is rather explicit. He languidly looks down to you, tilting your chin up. “Did I say you could stop?”
You moan, and tentatively go back to sucking him off as the ghouls gather closer. As they stop by the side of the bed and hand Papa the shots, you can feel their eyes on you, watching how you take his cock down. Each time you falter, Papa’s hand is there to guide you back, the desperate sounds caught in the back of your throat lost in the saliva, precum, and spit-slick glide of the frontman’s thick member.
“Molto bella. I like this one,” Papa mumbles above you, pointing out one of the photos as if he wasn’t getting his dick worshipped. “My dear-- I look very dashing here, no?” He gestures for the photos to be shown to you, and you sigh as you see the picture of Papa in his full getup, holding the staff with his arms raised. Dashing is not really how you would put it—he looks positively evil, which is all the same to you. Another moan from you as Papa tugs your hair, grunting as you pay special attention to the vein up the side of his shaft. The ghouls stand there uncomfortably; they don’t know what to do. On one hand, if they watch you too intently, they’ll catch hell from Papa for coveting what is his. If they don’t look, they’ll feel disobedient. It’s a tough position to be kept in, and you almost feel sorry for them. You’ll have to speak to your lover later about how he tortures his poor ghouls so.
You begin to whine, grinding against Papa’s other hand. Papa opens his arms to the two semi-welcome guests. “Anything else?” Special rubs the back of his neck.
“Well... there is one more thing. The matter of our masks.” He puts his hands up, almost pleadingly. “But we can come back later!”
“No,” Papa says simply. “This one knows her place. She will continue until I tell her not to, regardless of you watching her suck cock like a whore or until I decide I want my privacy. Won’t you, mia dolce?” You moan again, jacking what you can’t fit in your mouth. Special lets out a nervous noise, a little bit of steam radiating off of him.
“Aha. Yeah— she sure is a whore, Excellency.”
Papa’s eyes flash. “Pardon?”
“ANYWAY! As you know, I’m in charge of promotion and interviews and such, and I just thought... if we had masks that were easier for talking, perhaps all black... option two in the clergy approved catalogue might be the best?”
Papa looks over the options himself, and you glance up. He seems so disinterested. Usually, that was fucking hot, but today, you’re giving it your all, and you want some attention.
You take him all the way down again, then pop off, kitten licking down and over his balls. Papa’s eyebrows raise, but he continues discussing business in complete ignorance of the tricks you’re about to try. While Special is pointing out the benefits of the new costumes, Rain pretends to look anywhere but you. His gaze however constantly returns to your talented ministrations, how you work the Antipope’s cock so well. He begins to heat up too, but he knows from your scent and the obscenely obvious scene before him who you belong to.
You frown. Papa still won’t pay any attention to you? Fine. You swirl your tongue around the head, playing with his slit, and give a long lick to the underside. You then nip down below at the slow flesh of his perineum, tongue licking a stripe down, and a surprised, low groan spills from his lips. His eyes flash down to you, letting you know with a small smirk that you had won this round.
Then he thrusts his hips up. Unprepared, you choke on him, but he holds you there as he pounds his hips up a few times. Feeling lightheaded and used, you pray for his orgasm, and finally feel the familiar warm burst at the back of your throat. Another wave of wetness drips down your thighs as you swallow it all, and wipe the excess over your swollen red lips. Papa’s gloved fingers patter over your dripping cunt, carrying a promise of later.
“—And that is why I think functionality wise at least, and I think it’s safe to say we all agree on this, that it would be beneficial if we had the robes, just more temperature conscious. You know, your dark Eminence?”
“I did not hear one word you just said, ghoul,” Papa sighs, glaring. “Out. Now.” The door closes, and his head rolls back as you take his soft cock back into your mouth, beginning to tease him once again to hardness, no easy feat for a man his age. You smile wickedly up at him from between his legs as he shoots you a warning stare.
“You never said I could stop, Papa.”