Work Text:
Forbidden Fruit
You’re dreaming, you know you are. Conscious of this fact you look around your surroundings. The realization that you stand in a church settles into you. This is not a regular church, however. It appears to have taken inspiration from the Catholic church. The dark and ominous spirit of this place in your dreams leads you to believe that this is not in fact a Catholic church. A few lit candles and some moonlit stained-glass windows are the main light source. The full moon outside provides enough illumination so that each piece of art can be clearly seen. The soft light quickly fades away, dying in the shadows that shrouded the room in darkness. Your eyes are drawn to the ornate glass as you begin to notice the details.
Men in meal masks, each with a pair of horns and no mouth stared down at you. While some look down others are turned away facing in opposite directions, but all have different poses or symbols in their own windows. Before you can fully realize all the different details a shuffling to your side catches your attention. Suddenly several more candles blaze to life behind a man that you hadn't noticed before. Dressed in priestly robes and with a mitre on his head, he struck an imposing present, especially his eyes. One glowed white, the other you couldn’t see in the dark. While he was dressed in the style of a holy man, you were pretty sure that holy men didn’t make it a habit to paint their face with skull paint, or dress in symbols that kind of looked like an upside down cross. The smell of smoke and incense seemed to flow from him, filling the room with a pleasant scent. “Ah hello, hello there little one, how do you do? He spoke in a soft tone. Being a little bit flustered you find that words do not willingly come. A beat or two passes by before he hums and shifts his weight a little. This small action snaps your brain into action and your body shifts into a more defensive stance.
His eyes catch the shift in body language. “Oh, do not be afraid little lamb I am not here to harm you no; no in fact I am here to offer you something yes. Curiosity and caution flow through your veins. You make no sound, eyes trained on him as he slowly takes two steps towards you. He stops when he sees caution winning the battle and you prepare to run. He makes a small noise in the back of throat and holds up both hands to show that he means no harm. You noticed that he held a small object in one hand, but you imminently turned your attention back to him. You do not trust this strange man in a dark church. “Do not fear. I only want to offer a gift Sorella. I am here because my dark lord, Lucifer, has heard your cry in the night, and he has an offering for you” The dark priest chuckled as he watched the color drain from your face. “What?” The word came out in a whisper strangled by confusion. Suddenly the man seemed to come to himself. “Forgive me sister, I have not introduced myself. I am Papa Emeritus the Third. I am the Papa of this church.” Papa slightly bowed to you after his name was revealed.
He lifted his head expectantly awaiting an introduction of your own. You stutter and stumble over your words not wanting to tell him your name. “It’s ok my principessa, you do not need to tell Papa your name if you do not want.” Your breath hitched at the way he called princess in another language. Something about not needing to give your name calmed you just a little. “W-h-hat do y-you mean Lucifer? I-I didn’t call on him...no way.” Hating the slight tremble in your voice you pushed on, determined to hide your fear. ‘What do you want?” He answered you in a confident tone. “What He wants is to bring you into the light by knowledge and wisdom. And through knowledge and wisdom grant you power and freedom.” As he spoke, he took a few steps closer and held out a gloved hand. Gold claws glinted in the candlelight against black leather as he held out a piece of fruit. Papa watched as confusion crossed your face. “Not what you were expecting, hmm? It is what the Bible has called the fruit of knowledge about good and evil. But consider it more as permission to pursue any and all forms of knowledge, and in that finding freedom.” Tired of feeling fearful, anger boiled up in your body. “Do you think I'm stupid? You want me to commit the sin of Eve? Have I not suffered enough because of her?! Because of her sin God made childbirth painful! Now every month I get a lovely reminder of why I shouldn’t trust you! And are you the devil or some kind of demon? At this outburst Papa lowered his hand. “And what sin did Eve commit that was so evil all must suffer hmm?” He asked in a cool tone. “What act so horrible that you are made to also carry this punishment? I do not think that the child should be punished for the sins of the father. Do you?” “N-no sir.” Shame and fear made it impossible to keep eye contact.
Papa cocked his head and moved toward you with his hands behind his back. “To answer your other question, no I’m not a demon, although I have been called Satan by some folks. This is probably not true I'm afraid, I’m simply the leader of this church. As you have guessed by now, it is a satanic church. And here in this dream, in this church we are free from the eyes of your supposed God. We’re free to discuss anything even if it seems blasphemous to you. Ohkay?” You nod your head somewhat unnerved at his mention of this being a dream. “Now let's discuss this original sin.” Papa said in a commanding tone, pacing in front of you. “Tell me how was Eve so evil that her punishment is on you? Hmm why are you cursed? Please Sorella, tell me.” The shadows seemed to swallow up your meager response. “She listened to the serpent and disobeyed God.” Saying out loud it seemed so small and insignificant. Your mind scrambled for more than just a sentence of injustice towards God. “And, and she also caused Adam to fall into the sin of disobedience too.” At this he nodded, “Tell me, does the crime fit the punishment? That is if you can even call what Eve did a sin. Has no one else disobeyed God? Is all of humanity also punished when they do?” As you desperately scrambled for answers your mind unhelpfully focused on one thing. “Um, what do you mean Eve didn’t sin? God told her not to eat the fruit, but she did it anyways. Disobeying God is a sin. Terzo stopped in front of the dreamer framed by stained glass and moonlight.
In a low voice he asked, “And how would she even know that this was wrong? She had no knowledge of sin. Your own book says they were ignorant, they did not know right from wrong. So how would Eve even know that to transgress was to sin?” At this you had no real answers. You could feel your mouth open and close. He pressed on, “And besides did Satan cause her harm or was it Yahweh who cursed all that day?” Your body instinctually reeled back at his blasphemous words. The frustrating fact was you had never thought of that. You had no real answers to his questions. “I don’t know” you timidly answered. “Do you still think that Eve deserved what happened to her?” The answer was dragged out of your core,“No sir." It felt like blasphemy across your tongue. Guilt hit you like a train, you had blamed Eve for an action that didn’t even deserve punishments.
At your answer Emeritus was suddenly in front of you and placed a hand gently under your chin. Without breaking eye contact he leaned in closer and in a soft tone asked, “Please Cara it is Papa that is my title, will you call me that?” Your cheeks burned and you swallowed dryly as you nodded your head. “Yes sir, I-I mean P-Papa, s-s-sorry. At this he drew close to your ear smiling. “Brava ragazza” he purred in your ear, sending shivers up your spine. Taking a step back he watched you, enjoying the look on your face. You desperately hoped that he didn’t notice your reaction. Looking into his eyes however, you saw that he had in fact noticed.
As embarrassment bled through you, he sent you a wink. Shock waves ran through you, twisting your stomach. Another shiver went up your spine when you saw how one eye seemed to be glowing in the night. A soft chuckle reached your ears as Papa began to speak once more. “Bella, I want you to know that Lucifer is not interested in your pain, but in your freedom and pleasure.” He growled out that last word. “Something I would love to participate in.” Arousal clenched at your stomach as you squirmed under his intense gaze. Your mind fought for any control over your sudden desire. “Are you trying to pull me out of my religion or something, and what did you mean about answering my cry? I didn't cry out to anyone.” “Oh, but you were and he heard you.” With concern shining in his eyes as he asked, “Why were you crying hmm?” “What? No I.. n...no I it's none of your business." A weak reply came. “Don’t want me to know?” Papa hummed. He looked away, cocking his head to the side in thought. It almost looked like he was listening to an unseen voice. Eyes snap back to your face. “Perhaps it is about your religion and you do not want to tell what the church calls your enemy, yes? Is that it? Sister, I do not want that. No, no I don’t want to be your enemy.”
Fear and desire shot through you; how did he know that? How did he know you were Christian? Was this really a work of the devil? At that thought guilt swept through you for wanting this man. He was a satanic priest for Christ sakes! “I don’t want you to live in forced ignorance and fear,” he continued, “But in independence and happiness.” With a sharp inhale of air, you shot back, “Forced?! I’m not forced into... Again, your voice faded away as memories came flooding back to your mind. A pastor standing over you asking if you had been reading any questionable books lately. Or how as a child you would hide stories you really wanted to know the ending to. But you knew that having done so could get you in trouble. Even now you were hiding the fact that you had started to learn about subjects while not outright banned in the church, would cause people to be concerned for you in said church.
Seeing the troubled look on your face, Papa brought out the fruit again and continued. “I have been called many things by people, most just say I am evil. But if you ask me, the real evil is hurting people who question them. Punishing those who dare to listen to other ideas that are different from what they say is right. This is what you have done, yes? Your hunger for the truth is what caught Lucifer’s attention, but doubts slow you down." At this he brought his hand up to his heart and in a smooth tone said, "You still want to please your lord. Such undeserved loyalty.”
You shift unsure of your resolve in your own faith. You had one last argument. A desperate prayer to keep you from falling into this man's temptation. “God has given me my life, of course he deserves my loyalty. He cleansed me of my sin and wickedness. Made me whole, and has sacrificed to save me from hell.” Papa grunted, “And who would send you to hell Cara? It’s not Satan now is it? No, I believe it was Yahweh who created hell. It was him who sent people and angels to their eternal torment. At least according to your holy book. I don’t think that a tyrant like that deserves to have your worship... Do you?”
Unable to answer you shake your head. "No, I don't think I like the idea of your pretty lips praising him." He murmured in a low tone. You felt your face grow hot and knew that your ears were turning bright red. Chuckling at your reaction Papa moves to your side and places a hand on your shoulder giving it a squeeze. In the darkness surrounded by the smell of incense you unconsciously leaned in closer to him. In that moment you really did feel like God couldn’t see you. Like he was shielding you from God’s eyes. Giving these thoughts a chance to freely come to fruition in your mind without the fear that God could be seeing them.
A noise of approval came from Papa as he held up the offering again. Before you took it you turned to look at him. “Are you expecting me to join your church? What if the answers I find lead me away from both God and the Devil?” At this his scowl softened and he gave a small smile. “We are a religion of free thought and free will. Lucifer does not make it a habit to punish those who don’t follow him. No one here is going to force you to do anything you don’t want to.” He waved the fruit in the air. “This is a gift you can take it or leave it. If you do not accept then nothing will be done, and you are free to go whenever you want. No harm will come to you here… Sorella, do you want this gift?”
Unable to stop your answer from slipping out you whisper a hoarse yes. At this a predatory gleam enters his eyes and before you can even reach out to take it, he holds the gift to your lips. The hand on your shoulder slips down to your lower back as he leans in and softly and growls in your ear, “Take a bite.”
Feeling the cool skin of the fruit against your lips you place your hand on his wrist and tilt your head for a better angle. As your teeth pierce the flesh juice runs down your chin, some even running down his hand. Bittersweet flavors burst on to your tongue. A gloved hand left your back to carefully wipe at the liquid running down your chin. You felt your body clench at the sight of him putting the finger in his mouth. He made sure you saw his tongue working to clean it off. With a satisfied moan he placed his hand on your back again giving you another gentle squeeze. “The flavor is bittersweet, no? Sometimes the truth is hard to hear, it can sting for a little while. But oh, Sorella, the freedom that comes after? Yes, that freedom is the sweetest thing, making it all worth it.
Nodding you can already taste the sweetness overpowering the initial bite of bitterness. You watched in rapped attention as Papa brought the fruit up to his lips and took a bite of his own. Joining you in an act of sinful rebellion. Like Adam and Eve, you thought as he chewed. You noticed that juice had also trickled down his chin, and without thinking reached up and wipe it away. Shocked, you freeze as he places your finger into his mouth. Dragging his tongue along your finger he softly sucks at your finger. A groan starts in the back of your throat as he moans around the digit. A popping sound echoes through the chapel as he pulls out your finger. Pushing himself closer he turns you so that you’re pressed against each other. Forgotten produce falls to the floor as both hands hold on to you.
One hand comes up to grip your chin. A thumb presses and pulls down your lower lip while fingers curl under your chin. He carefully tilts your head making it impossible to look away. For the second time that night he moaned unknown words into your ear. “Brava ragazza.” Even without knowing what that meant, the tone of his voice made you jerk against him. A dark chuckle sounded against you as he moved his mouth down from your ear to your cheek and towards your mouth. His warm breath tickled your skin as he left little kisses on the way to your lips. Stopping for a second, he let the tension build as his other hand lazily traced circles on your back. Then suddenly he pulled you in even closer catching your mouth in his. At your gasp of surprise, he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue past your lips. Tasting the flavor of the fruit all over again, you felt him lightly grind into you. Making sure you had no doubts about what he thought of you, and what he wanted to do with you.
Sooner that you liked he parted breathless and staring at each other he spoke. “Mm good...yes?” You nod dumbly at the question. “Yes, yes very good, at least I thought so.” He continued, “Now go out and find those answers for yourself, and don’t let anyone or anything stand in your way. Are you going to do that for Papa?” The question jarred you out of a trance. For the first time that night you answered confidently. “Yes, but not just for you, but for me.” At this feel his body shake under your hands in quiet mirth at your answer. “Perfect!” he exclaimed, leaning back and breaking the embrace. Distracted by the loss of contact you almost missed the last words. “See you soon Sorella, and maybe next time you can tell me your name.”
Before you can even process his words you are dragged back into the waking world. Short of breath and sweating your mind was reeling. What the fuck was that, you thought, it felt so real was it really just a dream? It seemed like you could still taste the flavor of that forbidden fruit. Wait, you had heard him say different words and phrases in a language you did not know. Grabbing your phone, you start to search the internet to see if those words even meant anything. Quickly you found that yes, they were real words in Italian. While somewhat familiar with Bella and Cara you had no idea what brava ragazza meant. With trembling hands, you type in the phrase. Your breath stops when you realize that he was calling a good girl in Italian. That made you clench your legs together as you felt even more arousal pool in between your legs. Having woken up already slick and panting you were embarrassingly soaked now. You guessed that is how dreams work though. If that was even a dream. You were pretty sure that you can't dream in another language. Even if it was just a few words. Maybe a vision then, you thought swallowing hard. If that’s the case then what did he mean, see you soon? Will you actually meet him in real life? Unsure of these questions you decide to focus on the questions that are possible to answer. Until then you had some research, learning and thinking to do. You're going to test your faith and you wouldn't let anyone stand in your way.