#inky scrib

"Hm. I think our conversations about theology bore you."

"There is no reason for it." You sat up a bit higher. Finally, back in your domain. "I know my Father's word. I know the words of the past apostle's. I know my own will spread mine."

Gabriel's smile flickered to life and you felt something curl in your stomach. It wasn't the usual apathetic one. Nor the usual condescending turn of his mouth that was aimed at you whenever you insisted on your heritage. You never saw him smile at anyone else. This was new. He was showing his teeth. The sharp of his canines that matched your own. But they weren't the same. You had your higher purpose. Despite everything, the Messenger of God Father of Peace was still one of them. Maybe not as low as the children of Caine, but he was still a disbeliever. A Roman that shall one day wash his hands of the matter and watch you on the cross, punctured and writhing. The thought… The thought… Did… Excite you. What child of the Lord wasn't going to be exhilarated to be able to return to the Kingdom of Heaven? You had never felt such a burning in your stomach though.

"Spread yours…" Gabriel repeated, his tongue dragging out the words. He rested his cheek on his gloved palm, looking at you so fondly, like a father to his son, a priest to a practitioner. "Hm."

He continued to gaze at you, from your ears poking through your hair, from your exposed mouth, down, down… Before the desk got in the way. You shifted in your chair again, arms long numb from most of the evening spent in the straightjacket.

"To spread your word…" Gabriel started to muse before standing up and rounding the desk, sitting on the edge right by your chair. His fingers started to glide along your pointed ears. "You must first speak. You don't seem to want to speak to me."

"I do-"

"Not in the way you keep preaching about. Preach to me. Maybe I'm one of these apostles you insist on gathering." The cold of the leather made you shiver. The straight jacket felt too tight against your body all of a sudden, your nipples growing hard underneath the fabric. "After all, there are many sources speaking of the closeness between Jesus and his followers. Some more than others."

The fingers caressing the length of your ears slowly moved down, along your earlobe. He took a moment to pinch it before leaning forward. The scent of him invaded your senses. Sharp cologne. You could taste it on your tongue. Unlike Doctor Ganai, you couldn't smell the hair gel that kept his hair back. Just… Something sharp. Penetrating. Then a softness. Like a kiss after a slap to the face. Something… Floral?

The cold air brushing against your sensitive earlobe had you jumping in your seat only for a hand to come up and rest against your chest, by your right pectoral, and the gentle shushing from the Doctor. Like you were nothing but a startled beast that needed handling.

"Sensitive." You could feel the chuckle from the doctor reverberate gently. "My apologise."

Gabriel leaned back, but his hand stayed there, his thumb slowly rubbing small circles into your chest. Close to your nipple, just barely skimming the sensitive skin past the worn fabric. You stayed silent, just concentrating on the slow, measured movement. When was the last time you were touched that wasn't a rough handling from the Orderlies, heaving you around like you were some sort of helpless little toy. Gabriel… It seemed… Preferred to handle you like some sort of skittish animal. A lamb used to the snapping of Wolves at your hooves, now sitting quietly as a Shepherd gently grazed your muzzle with his fingers, before winding his fingers into your wool to-

"Stay with me now." Gabriel's voice by your ear made you shiver. "No escaping."

His fingers were knotted in your hair by the back of your neck, making it easier for him to manoeuvre your head. The doctor slowly pulled your skull back, gentle blue heaven meeting the blood red of your own eyes.

"Go on. Please." Gabriel's tongue flick out to lick his scar before a full smile curved along his mouth. "Don't let me ruin your concentration. Please. Tide me over. Convert me."

Your tongue, so used to giving out gospel and commands and wisdom and faith, failed. Curled in on itself, like some sort of beast rolling over to show the soft curve of its stomach. Normally, you would be looking at such a creature with scorn, but…

But…

Being handled. Touching. Gentle but firm, leaving no room for negotiation with Gabriel's touch. Didn't your long deceased brother, now by Father's side in Heaven also crave being held? He must have been cradled beyond his time as an infant, even if it was just by his mother.

"Hm?" Gabriel pulled back just a moment, raising his hand from your chest to your mouth. Resting the tip of two fingers against your bottom lip. "Come on. Nothing? Not tongue tied, are you?"

Your lips parted. The Doctor was gently separating them, rolling the flesh. His gloved fingertips against your teeth.

"Go on." He leaned in further, beginning to whisper, as if you two were in the dark of a confessional, the priest pressing the sinner to speak, and cold air on heated skin and- "Preach to me."

Once again... Your voice failed. Even when the Doctor pressed his fingers into your mouth, dragging his digits along your insides, greedily touching along your sharpened teeth and your pink tongue and if it was anyone else, you would have tried to bite down, tear off the fingers of the invader, daring to tarnish your sacred mouth, but now? You were just letting it happen, even opening your mouth further so that Gabriel would continue with his sacrilegious groping to his heart's content.

"No obstructions to be seen… So… I shall believe you wish to finally cease your preaching. Cease our conversations about theology and our different ideas. Maybe the key to helping you was not listening to what you say. But finding out what else you want."

His touch turned tight, firmly lifting you to your feet, ignoring the kicking from the smaller kindred, before firmly pressing you down over his desk, your body scattering papers and pens. There was the sound of fabric moving and Gabriel's coat was flung into the chair before your eyes, perfectly folding over the back of it. There was a small reflection in the cabinet glass that housed all the books the Doctor had, and in it, you could see Gabriel pulling his tie down further, before rolling up his crisp white sleeves to his elbows.

Then. From the inside of his shirt. He fished out a thin, pretty chain. At the end of it. A key. Glinting in the low light like it was conspiratorially winking at you.

The straight jacket that kept the kindred caged was slowly being tugged at, loosening slowly, the cold air of the office surging into the small gaps to chill your nipples and between your… Thighs. Then from a chill to a freeze as a large piece of fabric dropped, hitting the floor with an audible thud. You could feel the air on your bare skin, but only from your hips down. A surge of panic shot through your inactive veins, squirming before feeling the gentle hand of Gabriel on your… Behind.

He shushed you like you were nothing but a startled animal in need of soothing. No words. Just the feeling of air rushing against the back of your neck, and without a doubt, you knew that Gabriel's lips were hovering over the skin, his crisp shirt pressing against the starched, thin fabric of the straightjacket. For just one, disgusting, sinful moment… You wanted those lips on your body. Your skin. His wet tongue trailing along the ridge of your spine. For your neck to be kissed, to feel those sharp teeth dragging slowly. To believe Gabriel's intentions were skirting through the sensual, into the intimate, with a lick of the romantic. Something deep inside of you craved it, like your Beast, your creature with three heads from the Book of Revelations, quietened its desperate yowl for Blood, to instead settle down and be touched. Be loved. To be looked into and withstand the darkness that swallowed up everything that seemed to come close.

You waited, almost arching your back to make it more appealing. Only to hear a chuckle and the feeling of a gloved hand dragging possessively over the curve of your neck before pulling away. You fought back a gentle whine, biting it down into a yelp as Gabriel's hand curved along the belt you wore, cupping the… Precious parts, before fingers began fiddling with the lock.

A part of you wanted to kick and bite and call down the wrath of Heaven. A greater part wanted…

Wanted.

You could hear a gentle curse leave Gabriel's lips, then the feeling of something searing hot against the metal before-

Metal. Small. Heavy. Dropping to the wooden floorboards.

"There." Gabriel huffed under his breath.

Then your belt slid down. Along your legs, slowly taken down like it was a piece of lace underwear. Hitting the floor and Gabriel slowly dragging his hand along your leg, cupping the back of your knee and lifting the foot free. Copying this for the other leg, before the harsh thunk of the Doctor kicking it away, into a corner. A satisfied sigh. The raising of the fabric that had fallen down to cover your behind, exposing your… Your-

"Hm. I think I have found why you fight as much as you do." You could feel the cold air of the office skim your bare thighs and… Higher. Your… Your… "A boy like you shouldn't be showing this off to anyone."

Gabriel's pair of gloved fingers slowly spread your Holy parts, the wet slick of them spreading, and you couldn't help but to kick, like a nervous animal. Gabriel didn't even seem to notice.

"That would be dangerous, wouldn't it?" The Doctor dragged a gloved finger through the slick, trailing along your weeping hole, down to your engorged clit, taking a moment to flick it, making you gasp out. The feeling of leather left, to be replaced with…

The sound of something being licked. The reflection showed Gabriel dragging his tongue over his fingers slowly, thoughtfully.

"Very dangerous." He murmured, before licking along his thumb again.

Then he knelt down, out of sight. The cold rush of air brushing your sinful parts, something only a married couple should be seeing.

"Just the scent of this boy cunt would have some of our rowdier patients acting out." He chuckled dryly.

"D-Don't use some disgusting language-"

"Oh, the little messenger has found his voice once more?" Gabriel seemed genuinely delighted to hear you speak again. "My apologies to you and the sacred cunt."

You opened his mouth just to bite down harshly on your own tongue when you felt the gentle stroking of Gabriel's fingers along your precious parts again. Using three fingers, from your weeping hole down to the clit and back up again. Heat boiled in your stomach, reproductive parts already gushing and twitching with such a small amount of touching. Then-

A tongue. Quickly dragging against your nub. Gabriel pulling away with a hiss.

"One day. One day I will spend hours ruining this… This sin." Once again. A quick, desperate lick, almost like the peck of a kiss before he pulled away. "I will visit you in your disgusting little cell before I leave, shut the window to the orderlies and make you show off every part you keep trying to hide. Then, my little son of God, and only then, will I kneel to you and you shall lower your cunt to my mouth and allow me to have my fill. Mark my words, brat."

Your heart could have restarted at the disgusting confession from the Doctor, the supervisor, the one in charge of this entire establishment. All spewed out with a simmering anger at being denied. Denied you. Gabriel stood once more, and with the reflection, you could see him reach down and briefly grab at the the thick, cruel outline in his pressed trousers, the sin of man, his face relaxing for just a moment, as if treasuring the contact. Before he let go, and sadistically sank his three gloved fingers into your cunt, into the dirtied, wet, needy hole, working his fingers expertly, deeper and deeper inside of you.

You didn't even notice the horrible, sinful noises you had started to make. The whorish moans, the needy begging, the way even your body was twisting and arching and legs spread further and your ass raised and you were nothing but an animal in heat, debasing yourself further and further. A disgusting piece of knowledge simmered along your throat, and something deep inside, a beast, knew it to be true. That if Gabriel had wanted to… Ravage you. Like in your mother's hidden books, and the strange dances at the concert your parents had taken you to protest against, the weird things that played on cable after nine pm, if he had wanted to break something deep inside of you with his tool of sin, you would let him.

Apart of it was disgusting lust, melting your dead brain and loosening your tongue and making you buck back into the cruel touch of Gabriel, now rubbing at a hidden spot deep inside, making your knees weaken. Another was the opaque fantasy flickering behind your eyelids every time you blinked. That the lust wasn't just lust, that the touches were more than sinful gropes of your body, that.. That this was some sort of creature of heaven that wanted to shoulder you from your burden, to stand by you to give kisses and soft words and twist his fingers deeper inside just like right now, pushing you over, over, over the precipice into this pleasure, this beautiful, blinding, sinful pleasure that had your thighs shaking and precious parts tightening and then-

It happened. The fall. The tightening, the desperation, a feeling that you were sure… A feeling that would be similar to what the Rapture would feel like, the feeling of nails driven into your palms, to be lifted up.

The only thing you could hear was the panting of unnecessary breaths, the sound of slick being tasted greedily, the feeling of something rolling down your thighs. Before being wiped away and the belt slowly placed back into position.

"There." Gabriel said, measured and perfect. You glanced at the reflection. His hair was messy, reaching into his smiling eyes as his tongue still busied itself with cleaning up the gloves. There was something dark staining his trousers. Of yours or Gabriel's, it wasn't clear. You wanted to enquire, to drag your tongue against the stain, to chew on those pale lips until they were shredded and bleeding, but you were fatigued in a way you had never experienced before.

Slowly, the straps to the jacket were tightened. Fabric regathered and slipped into place. The sound of the key turning into a lock. A soft huff and a murmur of needing to replace the ruined lock to the belt. The pleased hum as you didn't fight the manhandling back into the chair.

"Oh. Docile little thing now, aren't you?"