Work Text:
You sighed, just one of those average ministry days. Sister Imperator had asked you to assist with cleanup after Mass, because the Sibling that normally helped out was sick with the flu. You had nothing better to do, and sucking up a little bit to Imperator might pay out in the long run so here you were.
Daydreams had plagued you all morning as you did your normal chores, cleaning the kitchens and mopping the hallway. You thought about how long it had been since the last time you’d had any type of sex. Too long. You hummed to yourself as you fantasized about getting fucked on one of the long counters in the kitchen, flour appearing from nowhere only to dust fingerprints wherever you and your lover touched. Or maybe you would be lucky and some ghoul would walk by where you were cleaning and pull you into an alcove to blow your back out. Satan’s taint, I’m horny today.
Now, seated in the second pew of the Chapel, you waited as the service passed uneventfully. Papa Emeritus the III was leading the prayers and he was always captivating. He did seem to be rushing the sermon more than usual, a tightness in the lines of his face that wasn't normally there, but his words on the importance of free will were well thought out and he held everyone’s attention. After unholy communion and a final song, the congregants began to file out and head to dinner.
Papa had run off quickly after the last blessing. You took your time, stretching as you made your way to the altar to extinguish the candles and collect the materials that needed to be put away. You hauled up some large tomes and a thurible and headed to the sacristy. As you were putting them away you heard a muffled “fuck, fuck, fuck,” from the adjoining bathroom.
You knocked on the door. “Are you alright in there?” you asked sheepishly.
The ancient-looking door creaked open. Terzo had already shed his mitre and outer robes, and was in black dress pants and a matching shirt. He was sweating and fidgeting, bouncing from one leg to the other. “My zipper is stuck, Sorella,” he confessed. “And these pants are too tight to slide down.”
You could tell that he must really have to pee by how openly he was wiggling around. You had noticed that he seemed a bit off during Mass, but he was in much more control in front of the Siblings than he was here. “Can I try it?” you asked, concern etched on your face as you took him in. You were already moving closer and dropping to one knee.
He nodded and swallowed thickly. He’d had women (and men) on their knees in here, but never for this reason.
With a firm grasp you attempted to free him from the restrictive garment. The zipper didn’t budge. Looking more closely, you could see that some of the fabric was trapped in the teeth. Your small hands began trying to readjust the material to see if you could make any progress.
His left hand flew down and rubbed at his dick near where you were working on the zipper. His predicament had been nearly seven hours in the making. All because Primo had taken up growing grapes and making wine. The latest batch of which had finally reached maturity. The brothers had met for lunch and indulged in a few glasses before going straight into meetings. On a normal day he would have had time to relieve himself before Mass, but today a rather horny ghoul (Omega, of course it was Omega) stopped him on the way to the chapel and pulled him onto his lap for some kissing and heavy petting. The ghouls were near their heat cycle and he didn’t like to deny them if they needed anything. Terzo was in tune with Omega, he had the big guy wrecked after only a few minutes of frenching and well placed gropes and squeezes. As the church bells tolled, his lips moved to Omega’s neck as he grinded his ass over the demonic one’s erection. Even through their clothes the contact was electric and Omega came with a growl. He had roughly freed Terzo’s dick, eager to repay the favor, but there was no time. Papa rose and haphazardly tucked in his shirt and zipped himself back into his clothes. A fatal mistake he now realized in hindsight. He had given his guitarist a firm swat on the ass and made his way to the chapel.
His attention was back to the present as he realized there was a quarter-sized wet spot where he must have leaked. He groaned and pinched the head of his cock. “Is it moving at all?”
You pretended not to notice the wetness near your hands and kept working. You had gotten it to move down a couple notches, but not enough. “It’s starting to budge. I just need a little more time.”
Papa’s face showed more concern than you’d ever seen. His toes were tapping now and his thighs squeezed together. A sob was fighting to escape his throat but he swallowed it down.
Your fingers moved as quickly as they could. You rocked the zipper in the tiny space that it would move, trying to gain more ground. It crept down another fraction of a centimeter. “We’re starting to get there, I promise,” you said.
Just then, Papa’s control slipped and you heard a loud hiss as a long spurt of pee streaked down the leg of his trousers. He cut it off quickly, still pinching at himself through the wet material of his pants, but tears now stained his cheeks. “I’m sorry,” he choked.
You patted his thigh, the dry one, as you continued your work. “It’s not your fault,” you said quietly. A few more seconds and you were sure you could have him free.
His breathing was fast and his face paint was smudged from tears and sweat. The skin you could see was flushed in embarrassment. “You can go, it’s too late,” he said with a groan as he turned toward the toilet and covered his face in his hands. “I can’t stop it this time.” In an instant the hissing sound was back and wetness soaked the fabric of his crotch, warm against your hands and fully down his left leg. You had not left and gave a final forceful tug to the zipper which mercifully slid this time, albeit too late to save Papa’s dignity.
Terzo was lost in his shame, and kept his hands over his face. You pulled his slippery member out and aimed it to the bowl. His stream was forceful and you could feel the strength of it passing through the soft vessel that rested heavily in your palm. You were at eye level with it and couldn’t help but notice that it was a nice penis, even flaccid, pink and smooth. Though it was beginning to fill out in response to your touch. Moans poured out of Terzo as the tension slowly left his body. He was becoming more still, relief flooding his senses.
Speaking of floods, the torrent kept going. It was minutes before Papa’s stream faltered, and even as you were about to release him it came to life again. How much could such a small man hold? Just as he couldn’t hide his accident, he couldn’t hide the fact that he was getting turned on despite how humiliated he was. He wiped at his face and moved to take over, his shaky hand meeting yours where you continued aiming for him. “Thank you, Sorella,” he whispered. You rose to your feet, removing your hand. “But, em, I would be thankful if you didn’t mention this to anyone,” he whispered. He had finished and flushed, removing his shoes and wet clothes. His hard cock glistening as he found a towel to dry off.
“I won’t tell anyone,” you said honestly. You could tell he was sad, but you had an idea of how to make him feel better. That and your endless horniness gave you a boost of confidence for your next words. “But, I, I could help you clean up?”
“It’s mostly just the pants-” he froze as you took the towel from him and wet it with warm water from the sink.
Your eyes asked for permission and he nodded slightly, as you brought the towel to his ankle, and slowly glided it up his leg. He sharply took in a breath as you made your way to his thigh and the space between his legs. You kept your eyes on your work, cleansing the skin. You lightly ran the cloth over the curve of his balls and traced a path from the base of his need to the tip. Pre gathered now at the glans and you took notice.
His eyes went wide as you dropped the towel and stroked him lazily. “You’re wet again? Can’t you keep it dry for a few minutes?” you teased, rubbing the wetness over his shaft.
His brain was struggling to shift from shame to intimacy, but his dick was ready to go. He shook his head no. “I can’t seem to,” he said, his voice low.
“Maybe if I lick it off?” you shrugged. You led Papa back into the sacristy to a chair and set him down. He was still naked and you were fully clothed. You settled between his legs and began delivering kitten licks to the head of his dick.
Terzo made a whine as he gripped the chair tightly fighting the urge to grab your head and fuck your face roughly.
You were having fun with it, playing a while before transitioning to longer licks up his length, purposefully tormenting him and not giving him any more. You paused to admire him. More pre drooled from his tip. He couldn’t help it, he was super turned on by whatever this was.
“Hmm… that didn’t work. I’ll have to squeeze it. Make sure there’s nothing left inside,” you used your hands to massage the root of the problem. He groaned and bucked under your control.
Terzo’s makeup was a gray mess at this point as he wiped his face and ran his fingers through his hair. He was painfully hard, and he prayed you would have mercy on him. But your lithe fingers were edging him brutally. He tried to touch you and you swatted his hand away. “We’re working on your problem now,” you tutted. Whenever he tried to find friction, you repositioned your hands so that it wasn’t enough. “Sorella, please…” his hips humping into nothing.
“Yes, I see,” you continued your game. “If only I could squeeze it tighter,” you pretended to think, “really wring out every bit of liquid.” You had a devious look on your face. “Ah, I know.”
Terzo’s face was white with the fear of anticipation. You climbed into his lap and he grabbed on to your hips, a smile forming on his face. “Yes, this will work,” he agreed.
You lowered onto him and clenched around his dick. Holy hell, he feels so good. Your uninterested exterior almost slipped, but you were having too much fun to stop now. You held him as tightly as possible as you raised yourself slowly back up then paused for a beat. Again you lowered all the way down, and so slowly formed a vice grip around him as you pulled back up.
“F-faster, please,” he stuttered, eyes rolling back. So close if only you would stop teasing him.
“I don’t know,” you stopped altogether, just casually impaled on him. “I don’t think it’s working, feels even wetter,” you rocked back and forth and your bodies made a squelching noise where you were joined. You pretended that you were unaffected and not the cause of the slick mess between you.
“No, no,” he pulled you close to him. “That’s b-because it’s working. There’s just a little more deep in there,” he begged. You rose and pulled yourself from him, feigning that you had given up. He was grabbing at your wrists in desperation. “Don’t leave.”
You sighed. “OK, you said it’s deep. I’ll have to suck it out.” You retook your position on your knees, barely biting back your amusement. You hollowed your cheeks this time.
“Oh!! Merda,” he said, tangling his hands in your hair. He was crying again so you had mercy and began giving him proper head, bobbing up and down with enthusiasm.
Your hand moved to cradle his balls and they were already drawing up. You grinned around his cock, power drunk.
“I’m g-going to-” cum or explode, or die of a heart attack, he wasn’t sure which. His words morphed into a guttural sound and he was cumming harder than he had in ages. You choked on the forced of it, cum went up your nose as you coughed and he was still shooting ropes on your face, clothes, and hair.
You worked him through it with your hand and he folded over on himself. The two of you caught your breath and then you stripped down to find other clothes.
“You nearly killed me, Sorella,” he gasped when he came around.
“But you feel better, don’t you?” you asked, not waiting for a reply. “Do you have any clothes back here that we can wear? Your dick ruined both our outfits,” you mused.
He reddened, he did feel better. “There are only robes back here.”
“Well I guess I’m a priest today,” you shrugged, dressing in the Papal robes. “Should I wear the mitre?”
He paused, eyes dragging over your form. “Up to you, but if you do that I might need your services again.” His cock twitched at thought.
You swallowed, straightening the headpiece and shooting him a wink.