Work Text:
“Repent then.”
Sunday’s eyes glimmered, but his expression remained blank and controlled. Calm, yet not welcoming.
You looked at Sunday, who was looming over you, his arm behind his straightened back.
“Bless me Father, for I have sinned…”
You say, your eyes closed, with a slight smirk on your face as you held your hands together, like one would in a prayer.
“Tsk, you’ll need more than blessings tonight, my child.”
Sunday responded, scoffing as he invoked his powers of tuning upon you. You suddenly felt a pang in your chest as everything around you began to look sloppy and dizzy.
“Ugh…”
You shook your head, grabbing onto it before looking back up to Sunday, who was smirking.
He was a man who yearned control, and he made sure to deliver.
“Tell me… What is it that you desire?”
He asked, walking around his office in circles around you.
The power bestowed upon you forced you to answer, you felt a tingling on your tongue like it was ready to speak.
“I want you to ruin me.”
You let out, still holding onto your head as you blushed softly. Despite the trance, your word was final.
That was your true desire – to get completely broken by him. You longed for his touch, his looks, his authority.
“Hmph. Very well then.”
Sunday snapped his fingers, freeing you from his hypnotic trance.
As you fell to your knees from the freeing sensation, he stopped to stand in front of you.
Looming over you like that fed his pride even further. You were so very little now, right in the grasp of his silhouette. Like a mouse to a cat.
“Let’s start repentance.”
Sunday declared, as thorns binding him appeared around his arms.
He extended the thorns towards you, ultimately linking the two of you together.
“Tsk, they still trap you even when I’m the one seeking a confession.”
You spoke, informing of the irony of the thorns around him, binding him still in that very moment.
To that, Sunday swiftly pulled you by the thorns towards him, suspending you in the air neatly in spot.
He scooped your cheek into his hand as he stared down at your face. You could feel his thumb brush over your lip as he spoke.
“Someone’s got a sassy mouth.”
His eyes narrowed before swiftly shoving his fingers into your mouth.
“Hah, let’s see how much of a smart mouth you’ve got left once it’s occupied.”
You drooled, not being able to speak as his fingers penetrated the inside of your jaws.
You simply obediently looked up to him. Sunday’s golden-purple haze seeming especially hypnotizing as it shined upon you.
“Good.”
One of Sunday’s thorns began to extend and sprout around your leg, trapping it in place.
The thorn teased your thigh, rubbing against it, squeezing it in place.
Your mumbles turned out to be futile as Sunday simply held your head with his free hand in spot, with a slight smirk on his face.
“First rule… Sinners are to remain silent unless confronted.”
He removed his hand from your mouth, guiding the thorns to move you towards the middle of the room, right next to the big Penacony city miniature model.
“Second… They stay still and obey… Hm?”
Sunday moved towards you from the behind, bending you over the city model, like he wanted the whole city to witness what happens next. For the world to be part of the audience in his albeit unholy act.
“Do you seek my touch, deprived sinner?”
Sunday asked, with a glint in his halo as he stood behind you, the thorns loosening ever slight, as if to let you decide.
“…Yes.” You replied, nodding.
“Hm, is that definite?”
Sunday smirked, delighted in your willingness. But he wanted your unambiguous answer, your final say. And so, he momentarily used his powers of tuning to hear the answer.
“Yes, my Lord…”
You nod again, indulging him further by calling him your master. No, your God.
Sunday’s breath hitched… That particular title driving him nuts, even if he didn’t like to admit it – he wanted to obtain the control and means in the likes of Gods.
“Such blasphemy…”
Sunday clicked his tongue, shaking his head before suddenly rubbing his hand onto your hip.
“… Is deserving of correction.”
His hand rushed over to your bottom, before giving it a harsh smack.
You flinched and gasped, briefly feeling his wing brush against your head as he got closer in proximity to you.
“Repent at once.”
He spoke, his breath warm next to you before initiating yet another smack.
“Repent, repent, repent!”
He repeated, his words sounding harsher with every hit. It almost sounded like his tone was personal now.
You moaned from pain, feeling your bottom becoming numb.
Until, the last hit filled the room with a woosh, before his hand stopped. By that point, your bottom must’ve been neatly red.
But Sunday was far from over. After a brief pause, he moved up closer to you, softly rubbing your now reddened bottom.
“Tsk, you’re enjoying it, aren’t you, deviant sinner?”
He spoke, regarding your so-called deviance, yet being the one who was initiating the whole play.
“Aren’t you the conductor?”
You asked, whimpering from the pain softly as you bit your lip.
“Ah, ah, ah.” His thorns wrapped around your neck, not enough to hurt but enough to keep you in place as he yanked your head back, to make you look at his face.
He was such a control freak, needing you to be under his command at all times and greatly thrived from the effects he had on you.
“I believe I presented my rules loud and clear. I advise you to listen to me.”
His rules were one proof of his great control dependence.
The thorns tightened momentarily, to remind you of your position, before letting go of your neck. Yet, Sunday kept your head in spot, facing him.
“My beautiful creation.”
He tilted his head as he softly brushed through your hair, one of his hands reaching towards your chest, and under your shirt.
“Would you wish to become bare and pure? Just for me…”
His gaze locked onto yours as he spoke. He was really getting into the whole creator mindset.
Yet, you nodded, yet again, relishing in his act.
“Strip, then.”
Sunday ordered, moving back with crossed arms as his thorns guided you against the buttons of your shirt.
You blushed as you stood up, slowly beginning to undo your clothes, all while Sunday eyed you, as if judging your efforts.
“Good.”
Sunday smiled softly, still leaned against the wall as he waited patiently.
Once you presented fully nude, he walked closer, picking you up and then lifting up to sit you onto the edge of the Penacony city miniature model. All whilst his thorns kept your hands in place.
He scanned your body, relishing in its view. He was the one still fully clothed and he liked the contrast of it, him feeling like he was, indeed, the conductor of the orchestra.
“Sunday…?”
You uttered, before letting out a loud moan from surprise. Things were about to take a sharp turn.
At that very moment, Sunday made his thorns keep your arms apart, as he leaned down and began to taste you, spreading your legs further apart with his hands over your knees.
You bit your lip at the sensation, his tongue moving in ways not expected of an angel like him.
Your leg twitched, as you closed your eyes, beginning to both pant and sweat.
He would eventually reach his hands onto your hips, rubbing them up and down which only further excited you.
The room became filled with the sound of his tongue wetting your groin and your soft moans.
And just as you were beginning to tremble and moan louder, he stopped, teasing you as he looked up to you with a smile.
“Do thou wish for more…?”
He asked, all whilst rubbing your hips.
“F-fuck, yes!”
You replied, with your face reddened. You wanted more, and you wanted your needs to be satisfied, to be devoured by the angel who was posing as a cunning demon in front of you.
Sunday didn’t reply, and instead went down on you like never before, his tongue reaching the inside of you so deeply that it hit the spot, resulting in you finally coming with a moan, feeling numbed and heavenly with your senses tingling all over your body.
He removed his tongue, with a trial of sticky liquid following his mouth as he retreated his head.
“Is my sinner satisfied?”
Sunday reached from your hips up to your chest, caressing it as he spoke.
“Y-yes, you’re amazing, my Lord.”
Oh yes, rub his ego even further, color him prideful, he was truly happy with your answer.
“At this rate, there is no need for formalities, simply call me Sunday.”
He chuckled, as he stood up, smiling down at you.
“I want to hear you say it.”
He rubbed over your chest softly, before going down with his fingers onto your groin and teasing it.
“S-Sunday?”
You let out with a soft moan.
“Louder. With more passion.”
He suddenly stuck his two fingers into you, his face merely a few centimeters away from yours as he stared at you.
“Sunday!”
You yell out, squirming in spot as he finger fucked you. Like a symphony orchestrated by no other than Sunday himself.
The question was, were you a part of the band, or merely an instrument?
Sunday rubbed your back as he kept going, before eventually locking mouth with yours, making out with you using his tongue.
At that point, your moans were silenced by him, as you kissed back, only letting out muffled mumbles.
His soft hand worked its way inside of you, with each moment the friction becoming higher and you feeling more and more like you’re close.
You let out a loud moan, moving your head back, before trembling as you came, yet again becoming numb as you felt hot and heavenly, with warm liquid spurting out of you.
Sunday slowly removed his hand, and then continued kissing you.
He interlocked his free hand with yours, as he moved you down to lay you onto the Penacony miniature model. He retracted his thorns, marking the moment more intimate between the two of you.
After a while, he panted, retracting his mouth with a trail of saliva following, as he looked down at you. You both looked like a mess, with his forehead becoming to sweat from all the movement.
“You know… If this is what the rest day is all about, I’m in.”
You chuckled as you spoke, still panting as you smiled up to Sunday, genuinely happy with his efforts.
Sunday shook his head playfully with a smile, before rubbing his hand over your cheek.
“I take it you are satisfied.”
He spoke, before licking off the remains of his wet hand.
That action caught you off guard, as you shyly looked around.
“Mhm.”
You let out with a nod. Laying down in the middle of his office, nude, receiving love right on top of the Penacony miniature model felt absurdly unreal, yet it very much was the reality you lived in now.
Not that you minded it, and surely enough, it made you committed to receive even more punishments from now on.