you're always there, riding next to me ♡

She was so consumed with her troubled thoughts that she didn't hear the clicking of heels on the stone floor slowly approaching, and she jumped when the lean, black-clad figure entered her peripheral vision. "Huh?!...Oh, Cardinal, it's you. You startled me. Nobody ever comes here anymore..." He waved a gloved finger with a mock-scolding smile. "Ah ah ah...It is Papa now, remember?" She blushed, uncomfortable to her core to address him by the title in such a sacred space. "Right...Of course...My apologies, Papa." "I was just stopping by to make sure everything is order for my own portrait to be unveiled." He ran his finger along the ornate frame that held Terzo's picture and grimaced at the dust it collected, looking up at him with thinly-veiled distain. "The place certainly could do with a good cleaning..." He sat down next to her, confidently extending an arm on the back of the bench behind her narrow shoulders, leaning in a bit too close. "And you, Sister...Why is it that I so often see you sitting in here with such a...dreary expression?" She smiled wistfully, weighing just how much of herself she should disclose to the new Papa who filled her with such unease. "When I was old enough to be able to venture out of the orphanage wing on my own at night, I would come here to visit the Papas. I'd make conversation like, 'Nice weather we're having, Papa Primo', or, 'Your sermon for Black Mass was lovely, Papa Secondo'." He watched her with rapt attention, though his focus was more on the movements of her plump lips and heaving of her chest than her words. "Once his portrait was hung, it was the one I was drawn to more than any before. And it was always the same...'So nice to see you, Papa Terzo, and how are you this evening?'" "And how did he answer?" His voice was flat, his dislike of the man tainting every word. She sighed heavily at the memory that now felt like a lifetime ago. "'Better now that you are here, bellisima.'"

His smile widened, but there was an unmistakably green smolder behind his eyes. "You had, eh...A bit of a crush?" She bit at her bottom lip nervously, smoothing back stray tresses to hide her flustered reaction to his words. "I suppose so." She could feel his warm breath on her neck, what little distance was left between them shrinking and stealing the air from her lungs. "And were you...Attracted?...Aroused?" The low purr of his voice was making it hard for her to think clearly and words were tumbling out of her mouth beyond her control. "Yes...I-I wasn't sure what I was feeling...It was new." "Heart beating a little faster in your...ample young bosom?" She tried to ignore the way his eyes wandered over her body, leering and predatory, but it was growing more difficult by the second. "Y-Yes." "And what did you do with these new feelings, little one?" His lips barely brushed against her pulse point, just enough to make her stomach start to flutter. "Did you touch yourself?" Her breath caught in her chest, and she cursed herself internally for her body's visceral reaction to his nearness, his warmth against her exposed flesh, the friction of leather sliding up her inner thigh. "Sweet lamb, there is no need to be embarrassed. What you were feeling and what you did are both very natural. A young woman's relationship with her Papa is a very special thing. I only hope that someday you consider me your Papa, eh?" His palm slid over supple flesh, barely reaching her apex before retreating again, giving the faintest of feather-light brushes against the growing wet spot on her panties only to leave her trembling from the sensation. "Papa?...W-What are you doing?" She knew she should put a stop to whatever was happening. She was an adult now, wasn't she? And perfectly capable of setting clear boundaries. And yet...Every motion of his skilled hands only made her legs spread wider to give him better access to his prize. Her eyes popped open when his hand disappeared suddenly, gently nudging under her chin to force her focus to his piercing, mismatched eyes. "Shhh, little one...Just let Papa make you feel good." He pressed his lips to hers, soft but claiming, and when he felt her body shiver and relax he slid his hand under her skirt and hooked a finger into the waistband of her modest white cotton underwear, wrapping a strong arm around her waist to help her shift enough for him to slide them down her shapely legs. She looked up to her beloved Papa with pleading eyes as if he might come to life and rescue her, save her from her own wanton desires. "What a shame he never truly saw you like this," he muttered against her ear as he bunched up the hem of her habit against her quivering stomach. "Such a lovely pussy...So plump and pink...So desperate for pleasure...So ready to be used and defiled in Satan's name..."

Her focus remained on Terzo's handsome but stern face, too afraid to look into the eyes of the man who held her in place with an iron grip, panic bubbling in her gut, arousal pooling hot and aching in her core. He brought her tiny fingers to his mouth, wetting them on his tongue before pressing them against her clit and guiding her to stroke and rub it gently. "Show me, angel. Show me how you touched yourself when you were here alone. When you thought of Papa's tongue...Papa's fingers...Papa's cock inside you..." His last words made her moan, letting her trembling thighs fall open wider. He pulled one across his lap, giving him a better view and access to her dewed sex, his erection pressing hard and pulsing against her plush thigh. "Show him." He waited for her to find a steady rhythm, slow circles around the eager bud that swelled under her touch. He kissed her with growing possession, breaking to give her soft words of encouragement until her lips fell slack, only able to pant ragged breaths into his open mouth. "I'm going to fuck you with my fingers now," he said calmly. "Are you ready for me?" "Y-Yes, Papa...I'm ready..." Her eyelids fluttered closed and she tried to focus on the pressure building in her core and block out the lewdness of it all. "Just p-please be gentle." He slid just his middle finger into her at first and she took it easily, already so dripping wet and teetering on the verge of orgasm. "More, little one?" She nodded with a needy whimper and his first digit was joined by a second. He felt her breath catch with a tiny mewl, but the sting of the new stretch dissipated into pure heat, and before long her hips were bucking to meet every pump of his deft fingers. Her own touch was faltering, her strokes growing more erratic, and the sensation of his knuckles breaching through her tightening entrance only became more intense with each snap of her hips, her free hand twisting in the silk of his shirt until her knuckles turned white. "Is this how you pictured it?," he growled as he felt her body start to shake, her inner walls clenching as he stroked the sensitive, spongy spot within. "Writhing and pleading like a little slut?...Wishing your tiny fingers were thick, gloved ones instead?...Now look at you...And all with your beloved Papa watching your sweet little pussy getting stretched open for another..." Her head fell to his shoulder when the sensation overtook her. "Y-Yes, Papa...Oh, yes..." "Cum for him now, sweet girl. Show him how much pleasure his successor can give your little body." She cried out weakly, muffled against the muscular pillar of his neck, her whole body wracked with tremors, her release gushing violently and pooling on the marble tile between her feet. She clamped down so hard around him that he had no choice but to hold his hand still, rocking her gently through each lingering spasm until she was limp and whimpering in his arms. "My angel...You have done well...Very well...," he praised. "You cum so beautifully...So perfectly..." He held his hand up in front of her face, her juices running in thick streams that he lapped up from the buttery leather. "And so much nectar...All for Papa." He stood up suddenly, leaving her to slump in her seat while she fought to catch her breath. He approached the painting, facing Terzo eye to eye with a satisfied grin. "Don't you wish you had been able to taste her first, eh? Here you go, Papa. Buon appetite, stronzo." He smeared her slick across his predecessor's painted face with a grim chuckle before turning back to his young conquest.

Clutching her hands and pulling her to her feet onto wobbly legs, he positioned her without any resistance to lean forward and brace herself against the frame of the portrait. pressing himself tightly against his back to keep her still. "I have been waiting quite some time for you, little one." He rolled her skirt up around her waist, spreading her legs farther apart with one hand and placing the other on the small of her back, encouraging her to arch for him. "I am going to enjoy feeling your tight little flower taking every inch of me..." The sobering realization hit her like ice water, and the shameful lust she'd felt only moments ago was replaced with fear. "But I...But I...Papa, I've never-" He stroked and squeezed her haunches as if he was trying to tame a frightened animal, but his voice was an ominous, rumbling threat. "You do not want to disappoint your Papa, do you?" Things were moving too fast, too much out of her control. "No..." "That is what I thought." Her hands left her for a moment once he was satisfied that she wouldn't try to escape, and she could hear the unmistakable metallic sound of a zipper and the rustling of fabric behind her. "Then let Papa show you what your little body is made for." She pinched her eyes shut when she felt the heat and pressure of his swollen head against her entrance, whispering a useless, barely audible prayer to the Dark Lord for mercy. He entered her in one long, slow thrust until he felt her tense and squeeze the polished wood under her hands. "P-Papa...Please...It h-hurts..." "I know, my dear, I know. I promise it will feel good soon." He circled his hips slowly, giving her time to relax, for the sharp sting to fade into a throbbing ache, pleasure and pain warring inside her straining walls. But he didn't wait for her to be ready, too full of blood-lust by then to think of anything but his own pleasure and pride and glaring smugly at the face above. Once he started pumping into her tight spongy depths it was like lighting gasoline with a match and her pained whimpers fell on deaf ears.

"That's it...That's it...," he grunted, wrapping his hand around her neck to force her into an even more bowed, contorted position. "Show him how much you love giving your cunt to Papa." Tears were pooling in her eyes, more from the grief than the pain. And yet every time he pulled out of her snug grip she awaited the next slam of his hips into hers like an addict craving their next hit. "Who is your Papa now?," he panted, leaning forward to huff it against her ear but still leering up into Terzo's towering presence as he pounded into her tender flesh. "Y-You...You are...," she whimpered, voice breaking pitifully. He twisted her hair around his leather-clad fist and yanked her head up to force her focus on the deposed man's face, still dripping with her release. "Don't tell me, whore, tell him!" "H-He's my Papa now," she groaned. "Tell him who your pussy belongs to," he growled. "Say it!" Tears were spilling down her cheeks by then, shame burning them while nausea twisted in her gut and her walls tightened and started to quiver. "My pussy is his now...I'm his..." Her strained words only made him fuck into her harder and deeper than ever, and the intensity making her vision blur, a loud ragged scream parting her lips and echoing through the sacred hall, the most intense orgasm she'd ever felt quaking through her entire body. He pulled out abruptly, releasing his iron grip on her and letting her crumple to the floor, fucking into his fist and spraying a thick, abundant stream of his seed across the portrait with an animalistic roar. And just like that, they were in silence. She looked up from where she'd fallen to see him spraying the last few spurts onto Terzo's elegant spats with a proud smile. He leaned in tight to the dead man's face, hissing just loud enough for her to hear. "Who is Papa now?" He looked down at her with cold, unfeeling eyes as he adjusted himself back into his sleek pants, smoothing back his hair and already looking like nothing at all had happened. "Perhaps I will call on you here again when my portrait is revealed. We can christen it together, eh?" He turned on his heels and strode out of the Chapel gallery, whistling a familiar tune as he went. And she collapsed, body still trembling through aftershocks, sobbing as Terzo loomed from above, unphased.

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