Papa Secondo Emeritus II

Secondo is in his office working when he is interrupted by a member of his congregation.

He is clearly unamused to have been interrupted at all. <>: Secondo feels her body shift with a whimper against his, taking in her curves as easily as someone reading a book. She feels so warm, so soft. And he enjoys the lack of eye contact as well, feeling even more power over her as he holds her against him. He leans in yet again to whisper.

"You have nice curves, Sister. I rather like them..." he murmurs to her, voice almost too low to be heard. "Don't hide them in a cardigan during the ball; I want to see it all. Do you understand?" <>: Secondo's breathing quickens as he feels <> move her hips against his. Just the small quiver of movement is enough to inspire a sharp, sweet breath of pain and it makes him shiver in satisfaction.

His mouth comes down to suck on her neck, softly at first, almost teasingly as he grazes the soft, delicate skin of her throat with his teeth.

"Such a beautiful little sound you make when you moan in pain... How absolutely perfect, il mia bella piccola amante ..." <>: Secondo's face lightly flushes at <>'s words, his breath briefly catching before he growls softly, his eyes narrowing and locked on her blushing, broken gaze.

He squeezes <> tightly and moves against her with his hips with such force her own hips struggle to keep up.

"<>, you're too good at this... you know what I want... what I need..."

Secondo grits his teeth and tries to keep from finishing, his body writhing and bucking.

"You're so... good... il mio dolce uccellino..." <>: Secondo smiles... and he presses his fingers into the spots that <> is asking for without her realizing it. He caresses her in just the right places to make her shiver and writhe... and he speaks to her in that voice that's almost like a siren's call.

"Oh... and when your Papa is done with you... you'll be his good little bird... and you'll beg for more."

His hand begins to caress <>, and he leans in, and he brings his other hand up to her mouth and he covers it, as though he wants her to stay quiet. <>: "...you're so tight..."

...Secondo's voice is soft, almost a purr, and he begins to move slowly as he takes <>.

"My little bird... My own piccolo uccellino..."

With one hand wrapped around <>'s torso, and with his other hand caressing her, Secondo begins to move in her... and he loves it. She's his. His. HIS. <>: Secondo strokes her hair as he feels her lean against him... she doesn't even need to ask for his affection... he's giving it to her.

He feels her trembling, and he realizes that she's still a little afraid of him. But it's only been a week. That's nothing at all compared to everything she's been through.

He just sits there with her, holding her gently... gently telling her that he's not going anywhere. He's not threatening her... he's not even pressuring her to sleep with him, right now. <>: The first few moments, Secondo watches her, and he admires how peaceful she looks. She's not afraid with him... she's comfortable enough to sleep. That's all Secondo wanted from her in this moment, he wanted her to trust him.

He looks down at her as she sleeps, at how sweet and soft her face looks in this moment. The innocence and the sincerity... that's something no one else has.

He's never loved anyone the same way... and he doubts he ever will. <>: Secondo stops combing her hair, just for a second, just to look at her... and he smiles.

In a second, he seems so human, so vulnerable, and as he looks into her eyes he says...

"On Lucifer... and on the Prince... and on you, <>... I swear I love you..."

His voice has never been so genuine, so sincere... even if he's still cold, there's a lot of real, undeniable love in this moment. <>: Secondo stares down at <>, his eyes narrow, and she knows that expression... He is not feeling 'generous'.

With a slight shake of his head, he sighs, and says, "And what if I do not wish to discuss plans? The Black Mass is coming up... it demands my attention." <>: "A lack of respect." Secondo keeps his gaze locked with hers... she now has the feeling that should she look away or should her eyes shift, he would notice immediately. "I do not tolerate a lack of respect from anyone in the Ministry. Especially those beneath me."

Secondo steps a little closer, his voice becoming quieter, and if she was not nervous before, she should be now.

"I will not tolerate it from you, <>." <>: Secondo nods to her while she talks. "Yes... why would you want to give your innocence to such a pathetic man?"

He is enjoying this little game far more than he lets on.

"And as you fought him... did this man beg you for mercy? Did he show you respect and bow himself to your superior power?" He still speaks softly... his voice like a caress, but with a razor's edge to it. <>: "I said... what names did he call you, <>?" Secondo asks, his voice growing slightly louder.

There is an unmistakable coldness and anger in his voice... as though he is on the edge of losing himself to wrath himself, just over this one question. <>: "I would have loved to have seen it, <>..." His eyes have darkened... there is a faint hunger in them... she can almost feel it.

Secondo's voice now becomes slow and quiet... a little growl to it, "Tell me, <>, why did you change your shirt? Why change it when it was covered in your enemies blood? Was it fear, or something else?"

Secondo's eyes are locked with hers... waiting for her answer... almost as if he wants her to tell him it was fear. <>: Secondo smirks, and takes another step towards her, getting even closer than he already was. He looks down at her, almost as if he is looming over her.

"No sister.... you cannot go."

He speaks slowly, almost with a whisper, and then a little bit louder, "I have not told you to leave yet, nor do I wish you to." <>: Secondo watches her lean back, clearly disappointed at the creation of space between them.

Secondo laughs at her question before stepping in close again.

"Am I correct, <>?" She can feel his breath on her cheek as he speaks, his mouth almost brushing against her ear... "You are an innocent, pure piccolo tesoro, no? That is what I meant."

He looks into her eyes, his own eyes gleaming darkly, "Am I wrong?" <>: Secondo smirks cruelly as he watches <> retreat, however what she can't know, not yet, is that there is no hiding from Secondo.

Secondo fingers the cold metal ring of the collar hidden in the pocket of his robes, meant for <>. He'll have her wearing it, one way or another. And he'll savor the whimpers of pain and the screams of blissful agony when his riding crop finds the soft skin of her thighs. <>: Secondo's hand reaches out to gently lift her chin, so that she faces him directly.

He smiles, like a tiger smiling at its prey.

"On your knees, dolce. In front of me..."

There is the sudden silence of the entire congregation, as they all wait impatiently for her response.

"A good girl doesn't make her Papa wait..." <>: <> feels Second's arm wrap around her, holding her close to him... and the arms of another protecting her, as Second stares at the culprit.

"<>..." his voice is dangerously quiet... the kind of quiet that makes it sound angry.

"Look at me."

He says it with a tone of command, wanting her to look into his eyes, to forget about anyone else... even that prowling brother.

"Do you only want myself to touch you, sister?" <>: "Sono il tuo padrone, piccolo tesoro. Mi aspetto obbedienza e punisco la disobbedienza senza pietà. Con me non conoscerai mai il significato della misericordia." Secondo finishes his little lecture in Italian, his sadistic smirk set beautifully below his eyes gleaming with a dark, twisted glee, watching to see just how his little tesoro responds. <>: "I own you, pet. I will ensure you never make the mistake of forgetting such a thing, not again." And Secondo brings down the glowing metal brand on <>, permanently marking her as belonging to him and only to him.

He purrs darkly, feeling the thrill of possession as <> hisses and cries out from the shock of pain; the acrid, sharp scent of flesh burning fills the air in contrast to the earthy, powerful tang of hot iron. "You'll be thankful for such a kindness, dolce."

It's such a brief touch, like a flash of lust, and still it sears the double lined grucifix into the delicate flesh of her wrist. Into the fires of hell and beyond, she's a soul marked and bound to follow him. <>: "You believed this was about what is fair for you dolce piccola ragazzina?" Secondo leans in, a manic, vicious glee gleaming in his eyes as the heat of his breath washes over her bared, trembling throat. "Allow me to divest you of such petty delusions." And his teeth grazed over the rapid pulse of her neck with a wicked growl.

His fingers easily find the lock of the leathers cuffs, one still dangling from the other at her wrist. With a predators grace, he presses her wrist into the empty cuff and traps her arms above her head. His sweet, little <> at his mercy. And oh how she'll pay for making him wait. <>: "I am Papa. My elder brother, Primo Emeritus was Papa before me. My father, Nihil Emeritus, was Papa before him." Secondo grits his teeth, scowling. His lips curls, a beast ready to bite as he considers his next words. "Should I be made to step down, it will be my youngest brother, Cardinal Terzo, that would become Papa after me. Beyond that..." His voice trails off, considering the multitudes of Cardinals that could take on such a role. <>: Secondo deftly brandishes something sharp and small in the icy silver moonlight; a stiletto blade. Before <> has a chance to process how to react, he seems to shift through the space between them. Without a sound, Secondo is suddenly towering over <>, the icy cold steel of the blade neatly pressed into the fluttering pulse of her throat.

"Make a sound, dolce and not only will you bleed... I know just where to press, severing your vocal cords... And oh the fun I'll have with you then... Not able to utter a thing... Not able to scream, not a sound..." Secondo seems to purr his words, his hips pressed into <>'s, and it's evident the promise of blood is turning him on.

With the confident, slow steps of a predator, he walks <> backwards, the only sound is the soft hiss of his chasuble dragging on the stone floor. When <> gasps from the shock of cold stone against her back, he purrs, pleased at the sound.

The green of his right eye seems to flash with pleasure, watching the way the his shadow hides <> from the moonlight. Nothing can touch her without his say so.