Unholy Ministrations

from /hhg/ - Hazbin Hotel General Thread #220
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This reminds me: time to copy over the Millie x Moxxie story from prev thread!
---
>meeting the Vicar Man in the flesh had given Millie some... Ideas
>perhaps, even a new fetish
>she knows Gospel wouldn't approve
>but what happens between her and her hubby behind closed doors is none of his business!
>and Moxxie just looks so strapping in that Inquisitor outfit!
>so dangerous!
>...especially with that black leather scourge, and the belt

Cont.
--
Intermezzo:

>Stolas sets up a meeting with gospel
>Gospel shows up and stolas is dressed up as a "sexy" alter boy
--
Intermezzo 2:

>Wait so gospel made Moxxie angry?
--
>Not intentionally, and not directly.

>For a hellish being, seeing a priest at work (especially on "their turf", and especially against their kind) is instinctively infuriating - even if he has great respect for the man, and personally likes him, seeing the power of the Lord manifest like that - especially through someone who's supposed to have turned away from him - triggers a sort of retaliatory instinct in him, and since he was the one who had to clean up the results (alongside Blitzo, but that's neither here nor there) sort of... Made him feel emasculated.

>He has nothing against Gospel, nor does Gospel have anything against him - it just the byproduct of one being an imp, and the other a priest in Hell.
--
>Calm ol gospel made moxxie feel emasculated
If he feels like that from just a normal gospel then he would feel absolutely pathetic if he saw Vicarbrand
--
It's not so much Gospel himself, as it is seeing him in action, doing his priestly duties.
Vicarbrand would probably just terrify him, since it is essentially Gospel giving in to his new, demonic self via Wra--I MEAN Righteous Fury.
--
Intermezzo 3:

>Uh oh spaghettios, Gospel's about to be Bill Cosby's cell mate.
--
>Nah, that's just Moxxie - hellish rage can do... interesting things to an imp's physiology.
--
Kek
>Moxxie is hiding behind a large piece of rubble along with the rest of I.M.P
>Gospel was visiting, they were all having a nice meal, and some jackass decided to talk about all of the things he would do to Cherri bomb
>Gospel politely asked him to stop but the demon didn't like that
>So he told Gospel that he would, to quote, "Tie that little bitch up and rape her til she was a brain dead fuck doll"
>And thats how things got to where they are
>"HAAAATE! HAAAAATE! I HATE YOU YOU INSIGNIFICANT SPECK OF A DEMON!!"
>Maxxie lets out a startled "Fuck" as a care gets thrown across the street at the mouthy imp
>The mound of rubble gets knocked aside by Gospel as he searches for his target
>Gospel stares at them for a second before turning away to keep looking
>Blitzo makes the truly smart decision of running the fuck away until Gospel calms down
>Well he called gospel "Dad" but thats not important
>Moxxie just wished that one imp kept his mouth shut
>Hes going to have nightmares about this for a long time
--
>usually, it was Millie who dominated their relationship
>this may seemed evident from the outside, what, with how easily she could calm him down, but their relationship was a bit more complicated
>quite simply, Moxxie, being an artist - a musician, to be exact, and a damn good one at that - had multiple ways of dealing with his anger
>sure, his frustration sometimes got the better of him, and he would lash out, but the others hadn't seen him truly angry
>his job helped with that a lot, though, it wasn't as good as Millie's - he was the shooter, while she was the bruiser
>the raw, in-your-face violence of her work made it much more satisfying, while the patience and concentration that sniping required had more or less sapped him of any aggression, allowing him to blow it all out in one go - usually alongside someone else's brain
>but there were hints, during the dry spells at work, of a more sinister, wrathful persona underneath the penguin-suited, easily frustrated exterior
>it broke through a couple of times
>such as when he causally began to clean and maintain a HUNTING RIFLE in the vicinity of Loona, and fiddling with silver ammo cartridges, etching tiny crosses into them - it made the Hellhound uncomfortable enough to leave the room
>or when took apart the office VCR to free Blitzo's cassette, only to realize that he had used the only copy they had of their wedding to record some oft-rerun Z-list TV movie - and proceeded to unreel the tape and eat it in front of him never breaking eye contact as he glared Exterminator polearms at the lankier demon, cowing him into silence and making him back out of the room with a nervous smile
>he remained angry enough all day that the tape had been seemingly burned into nothing by his stomach - preventing an uncomfortable evening for the imp
>meeting the Vicar Man had an effect on him as well - seeing the stoic serenity of the tall sinner inspire such fear on others was something to behold

Cont.
-
>the demonic priest made for a lovely company as well - after he was done drenching the streets in Holy Water and molten demons (a local gang that had run afoul with a local big-shot - some low-level aristocrat that not even that Stolas guy would bat a feather at), and helped them out with a difficult case, Millie and Loona spent a good three hours drilling him about the Church and "Holy men" in general
>gosh, they were like a buncha' teens, fawning over some (in the eyes of their parents) "controversial" musician or something!
>but it was nice, talking to the soft-spoken demon
>not-so-nice for Blizto and Moxxie, who had to clean up the gory mess before it ate away at the concrete
>while they were used to offing mortals, seeing their own kind killed in such a brutal way shook them a bit
>and Moxxie... Did not like to be shaken
>by anything
>he didn't hold it against the priest - he did what he was paid for, just like them -, but that night's events left him with an impotent rage
>one that lingered for days
>he got so absorbed in it that they couldn't even have sex for a week
>leaving her yearning
>when the weekend rolled around, she couldn't restrain herself anymore - she just jumped him the moment he was in close enough for the bed, tore off his clothes, and forced him to ravage her
>he quickly got over his stupor, and did his best to satisfy her - but he couldn't make up for the lost time
>even if he wanted to see her happy, he himself felt little pleasure
>so, in the shallow afterglow of the act, she looked upon her sleeping husband - hands clutching the pillow with withheld rage, cloven hooved feet kicking out, and tail slapping against the bed
>she swept her cool palm down her face, soothing his anger a little - it was like he had a fever
>she wondered well into the night, thinking of any way she could get him out of his funk

>...and that was when Blitzo tapped on the window

Cont.
-
>his suggestion was simple: switch things up a bit!
>if work didn't relieve him of his pent-up, demonic rage - and it clearly didn't -, then, perhaps, it would be better to have it channeled into something else
>something more... "proactive"

>she knew their boss was aware of their... Bedroom activities
>well aware, in fact...
>...to the point where he had recorded some of their more... shall we say, "interesting" nights
>the fact that the cute couple were such BDSM-roleplay freaks had puzzled the childish ex-circus performer for a long time, so he tried to study their relationship dynamics
>"For prosperity's sake!", he claimed
>however, the conversation with Gospel had also shone light on Blitzo's true, vicarious nature, as even he had experienced the same frustration as Moxxie did, albeit, for a different reason:
>the imp had fancied him as a father figure, as it seemed, and he wasn't about to deny a hurt soul from his congregation
>...never told Blitzo about his daughters, though

>and what Blitzo suggested now was... Interesting, to say the least
>very risqué, in more than one ways
>however, the lankier imp quickly promised to help, before disappearing from the window, leaving Millie to go uneasily to sleep

>he snuck back during the next day, delivering the costumes - they already had the "other props" to make it work

>that afternoon, she proposed the idea to Moxxie
>obviously he was taken aback, and even a bit freaked out - but with a bit of coaxing, kisses, whispering into his ears and breathing down his neck, he was game

>and so, the night saw her in a nun's gown and headdress, "praying" by her bed, facing the distant light of Heaven
>while higher-ranking demons could easily recite the Bible - backwards -, low-rung imps such as herself would stumble over the words, as if tongue-tied by magic
>so, she just mimicked a nightly prayer Gospel had quoted to her, asking the Lord for strength

>...she really needed all she could get

Cont.
-
>...usually, it was Millie who dominated in their relationship - including their bedroom games
>...she was sure of that, having seen all of Blitzo's recording of them

>...may have even masturbated to them...

>whatever, she knew for a fact that Loona did!
>...thirsty bitch would always stare at them with those hungry, envious eyes, whenever they came into work without showering after a long "nightly session"
>she had access to Blizto's collection, that's for sure - they once caught her trying to cut together a video of all of Moxxie's falls and hiccups at home, and send it to 666 News' "Humor Hour" comedy show
>why she thought it was a good idea to do that in the staff kitchen, they'll never know - she may have been on something

>but yeah, she had seen herself and Moxxie doing... That... All of that... Before
>and she was proud, damn it!
>proud that they had such a lovely marriage, such strong love, despite (or perhaps, because of) all the dirty things they did together!

>...of course, she could never show them to Moxxie
>she was fairly certain this would be the proverbial straw that breaks the last fibers of his patience, and would finally drive him to murder their boss...
>...and perhaps Loona, too, for good measure

>she finished her mock-prayer with an "ave", as per tradition down here - well, seemingly
>she originally wanted to go with "amen" - the light of Heaven seemed to reach down to her that night, and she felt her chest fill with something lighter-than-air
>...well, that could've just been the paranoia, though
>however, as she heard the click of cloven hoofs, her mind immediately jumped to replace the forbidden word
>her breath got caught in her throat, as the steps approached, stopping a mere feet away from her kneeling form

>"Sister Millie..." he spoke, his voice both sweet like honey, and burning like hot ashes - she swore she could hear the cracks and pops of a fire in it
>she did not dare look up
>she could feel his smile

Cont.
-
>"Sister Millie..." Moxxie repeated, in a fulsome voice
>she shuddered, but replied
>"Father Moxxie?" she asked still not looking up
>"I see that you've turned in for the night..." he went on, his voice warm - but not the right kind of warm
>more like smoldering
>"Indeed." she replied - she was wondering where her arousal had gone
>"Confessing your sins, perhaps?"
>"No, just a prayer to our Lord before I turn in for the night." his voice was actually beginning to irk her
>"Oh, is that so?"

>stepping closer, and out of the shadows of "moon" (Heaven) lit room, he revealed himself in all his glory: red robes wisping through the air - it made her acutely aware just how much noise her own robes were making
>now turning her head to look upon him, her gaze slowly wandered upwards - was he always this tall? - before abruptly halting at his face
>his eyes...
>usually, their eyes would be a glowing amber yellow, however, his now seemed to smoulder (much like his voice) with a slightly more... orange color?
>his eyes were half lidden and narrowed, with half his face hidden under the shadow of his wide-rimmed hat, so that only his mouth - pulled into a knowing smirk - could be seen

>"I do not think you're telling the truth, Sister Millie..." he said, softly
>like the silk lining over the padding that holds the prized dagger in place
>"Could it be that you have something to confess?"

>that... sounded more accusatory than questioning
>is this still roleplay?
>what was he on about?

>"N-No, father, I--..."
>"Millie..."
>that voice
>it slithered and licked around her ears, slid down her throat, and made her chest feel cold
>her stomach knotted
>two, clawed hands - were they always this sharp? - reached down, one grabbing her arm, the other cupping her chin between it's thumb and index finger,, before raising her up, and turning her fully towards him

>...yup, he was definitely taller
>...stood more straight, too

Cont.
--
>>...stood more straight, too
Hmmm...
>Gospel is walking around Moxxie with a hand on his chin in thought
>Moxxie is dressed as an Inquisitor
>Using a yard stick, just like in Catholic school, he smacked the parts of Moxxie that were out of place
"Stop slouching. Feet closer together. Head up, dont look at the floor. Hands in position."
>Each correction came with a light whack
>Giving Moxxie a once over again, Gospel nods in approval
"There, you look like a respectable member of the church. Now, what was this for again?"
>"Oh uh... Blitzo roped us into a play...?"
"I'm not surprised."
--
Lol, didn't even think about this, but hey, I'll take it!

Gospel isn't usually likes this - he isn't one for corporal punishment, unless you really go out of your way to piss him off.
But I'd guess he'd take things like religious costumes very seriously.
--
he took theater in high school
--
>"F-Father?" she whispered, doing her damn hardest not to break character - she wanted to stop, so desperately, but couldn't bring herself to utter the safe word...
>...have they even selected one?

>"It's better to repent now, than to suffer the Inferno, sister." he said, softly
>it almost sounded genuine, in it's care
>almost
>"So... Confess!"

>he sat down upon the bed, right on the spot where she rested her elbows before, leaning back slightly and propping himself up on his arms
>and she...
>knelt between his legs

>What they were about to do was not approved by the Vatican.

>"Confess, dear." he said, with the same, sickly sweet voice.
>she hesitated for a bit...
>then...
>"...Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned." she began, before pausing
>she could vaguely smell something
>"...Yes, my child?" he asked leaning forward
>...she could definitely smell something
>"I have been a bad sister..." she began again "I've abandoned the monastery, ventured into the world of men... Acted out in wrath, a-and... And..."
>"Aaaand?" his voice was smouldering again
>"A-aand..."
>...she finally recognized the smell - it was thick and acrid, a mixture of cinnamon, ginger, butterscotch... And sulfur...
>His musk

>"A-AND I'VE COMMITTED ADULTERY WITH THEE!"

>her hands immediately fly to cover her mouth, but Moxxie only seemed to smile, eyes glowing more orange than before, and brighter
>"Is that so?" he asked, voice dripping with honey and venom
>a hand of his reached out towards her, causing her to flinch and close her eyes - only to have it rest near the base of her horn, as he spoke softly
>"Dear Sister, your sins are grave indeed. The only absolution I can offer is... Penance."
>the barely hidden sadistic glee in that last word sent shivers down her spine
>"Stand up." he ordered, and she did so
>even when sitting, he felt taller to her, his orange, glowing eyes locked on her own, yellow ones
>"On my lap."

Cont.
-
>each strike brought stinging pain and tingling pleasure
>each strike rang out with a loud snap in the darkness
>every time his hand was brought down upon her, she could feel his other hand tightening around her tail, his elbow digging slightly more into her back
>her own hands locked in prayer, she tried to murmur the rites, only to be interrupted by her own gasps and moans
>she bit her lip, as she felt him raise his hand again
>it came down with a thunderous SLAP!, causing her to hiss

>"You have been sssinful, Sssister Miiiilliiiiieee..." he hissed back, his next spank coming down with the same ferocity, only this time, the claws dug into her skin, the hand groping her cheek
>it made her moan louder before, mouth finally curling into a smile, as his hand kneaded her sore cheek, before moving onto the other
>she yelped, when his clawed thumb accidentally (probably) poked her in the pucker
>"Such a sinful little nun deserves punishment!"
>this time, the roaring edge in his voice served more to arouse her - she wiggled her bottom in anticipation of the next strike...
>...but it never came
>instead, she felt the clawed fingers dig between her cheeks
>reaching down to her lower lips - and coming back wet

>"Oooohhh... What's this?"

>that voice...
>was that really her husband?
>so gravelly and multitudinous in tone
>it wasn't like his singing at all
>or him
>so...

>"...It seems you're in need of more SEVERE punishment..."

>...where the Hell did that voice come from?!

***

>hands on the wall, wrists bound by chains, blindfolded with a cloth gag in her mouth, robes discarded
>she was standing there, nude, apart from the headdress - waiting for him to come
>and hid, hoofed feet clicking on what she believed to be... bricks?
>in fact, she could feel the crude stone masonry underneath her palms and fingers as well
>the steps came to a halt, somewhere behind her
>"...Millie..."

>it
>sounded like Moxxie
>but with a droning echo - the "demonic cadence"

Cont.
-
>she felt his presence, as he stepped up to her, feeling the tiny gusts his swishing robes, though they made nary a sound
>he emanated an infernal heat she had only felt from higher ranking demon lords (the few times they've gotten close to one)
>a clawed hand raked across her body, from her flank to her chest, delicately cupping her breast, as he leaned close - she could feel his grin, as he breathed out a burning breath against her face, "whispering" into her ear

>"You have been very naughty, my dear... Very, VERY naughty indeed..."

>a long, red-hot tongue slid across her cheek, lingering on her tightly closed lips, before it slid down her chin, lapping against the top of he breasts, even flicking across the other nipple that wasn't subject to the clawed hand's ministrations...
>...before it impossibly continued downwards, slithering like a snake, circling triangle of her loins

>"I know what you've been hiding from me..."

>despite still having a sticky, licorice-like sweetness, she could hear the burning anger underneath it
>she let out a stuttery gasp

>"I know about HIS recordings." the voice said, with an unmasked, simmering rage

>her heart stopped - no, she genuinely felt like she was going into cardiac arrest!
>he breath became ragged, as the claws dug into her skin - the hand impossibly hot -, and the tongue seemed to circle around her nether lips
>it really was like a snake, waiting to strike

>"...Did he show it to you...?" it asked, sounding just as indignant as her husband - but far, far more sinister

>"...Did he have that proud, dumb look on his face, whenever he thinks he's right? The Satan-blessed whoreson bastard..."

>the heat was so strong, she began to feel lightheaded, knees buckling
>the tongue's active molestation of her nethers didn't help
>through the burn, she could feel his smile again, as he spoke softly

>"Did you enjoy it...? Getting off to the forbidden fruit of his dirtywork?"

>all she could do was moan

Cont.
-
>both her breasts were being kneaded by the large, clawed hands, while the tongue continued to slither and pulse around her lower lips...
>...and then, it whipped back, and the hands (along with the weight of the cloaked body) retreated as well, leaving her in the cold
>she let out a disappointed moan, as the hooves clicked on the stone, moving a few steps
>she heard something being picked up - something that clinked and ruffled in the air
>leather and metal

>"You know, the bullwhip as quite the appeal..."

>her heart froze
>a bullwhip?

>"...But aiming with it in such a confined place would be rather difficult... So, I had to use something a bit more... Compact..."

>Oh, thank God, it wasn't a whip, then...
>...wait...
>..."compact"?

>"A riding crop, I know, would only entice further sin..."

>...awwww...

>"And a Cat-o'-Nine-Tails just didn't seem to measure up...

>...Oh...

>"...And, of course, the yardstick, too, would've been just tooooo long..."

>...Hm...

>"But then, I remembered..."

>...Hm?

>"The one thing I asked you not to use..."

>...

>"The one thing. I asked you. NEVER to use."

>...Oh.

>"The one thing I BEGGED you to stop using..."

>...Oh no.

>"I pleaded and cried, but you kept hitting me with it... But you kept going, no matter how much I wept..."

>Oh, no!

>...While that ASSHOLE probably wanked himself stupid behind his camera...

>...
>she heard the stretching and ruffling of leather, and the clinking of the metallic tips - lead, she remembered...
>as her spine turned into ice, and her knees buckled, nearly causing her to faceplant the wall
>when he spoke up again, she could hear the lecherous, sadistic grin in his sneer:

>"The scourge."

>that accursed thing
>in the frenzy of one of their games, she decided to try it out on his bound, prone form

>...never again...

>she could never forget the broken look in his eyes, as he rested his face against her leather-clad chest, looking at her through tear-filled eyes

Cont.
-
>she never wanted to see that look again
>and yet...

>she couldn't throw it out

>couldn't part with that lingering memory of maddening power - her own, demonic side manifesting in the worst way possible:
>hurting her beloved

>the welts and wounds have long healed, leaving behind no scar - she made sure of that
>but whenever they would hug, she could feel it
>the nervousness, as she touched his back - only for a brief moment! -, before he relaxed
>she hated that
>that lingering little tension, that fear, that mistrust
>but, she figured, she deserved it
>for doing that to him

>...But wait...
>doesn't that mean...?

>"I hope you're ready... And if not... GOOD."

>...this wasn't some erstwhile rage that he felt...
>he had been holding onto this for a long time
>a very long time, as it seemed

>the took a few practice swings in the air, listening to the snaps and clinks of the strands
>however, she heard none of it

>...he kept it a secret...
>...all that bottled up rage, wounded ego and pride...
>...all that mistrust
>...he couldn't look her in the eye for weeks afterwards...
>always submissive, yet always lashing out when Blitzo or Loona annoyed him - even worse than usual
>he didn't trust her with it
>not after what she did

>"Well, I guess it's time..." he said, shaking her out of the stupor of her heartbreak
>the steps stopped behind her, and she could hear the creaks of leather, and the quiet whooshing of air - he waved it around in the air, like a flail, giving it momentum

>she shuddered, truly afraid for the first time
>ears fixated on every small sound his clothes and weapon made, she braced herself, when she heard the momentary silence, followed by the harsh whistle of several, leaded straps of leather, cutting through the air
>...but the strike never came
>she heard him flail it around once more, raising it for a strike, his robes making the slightest creak, signaling the start of that horrible whistling...
>...but only felt its wind...

Cont.
-
>"...He's toying with me." she realized, without much emotion
>she felt like she deserved it

>the next swing came closer, irritating the skin of her back
>the one after had the tip of one strap graze against her
>it was only a slight touch, but it caused her back to arch, trying to get away from it as much as she can - she flattened her chest against the cold stones, only to hear his chuckle
>an arrow-headed tail slithered up her sides, tightening around her hips
>it pulled her back, roughly, causing the chains to clink
>it hurt her wrists, but she said nothing - worse pain was yet to come, she presumed

>the next one came down with the the sound of a falling rock
>it struck her back, between her shoulder blades, causing her to cry out
>it didn't hurt as much as it sounded like it would
>...and couldn't even begin to measure up to the pain she felt in her chest

>the next strike hit the middle of her back, causing her to yelp and pull on her chains
>the one after, on the small of her back, and then, another, on the top of her bottom
>she yelped and cried with every hit, not matter how little or much they stung - the wretched pain of her guilt overshadowed it all
>then came a strike between her legs - he swung it low, whipping it upwards, hitting everything between them at once
>she cried and fell, her thighs closed upon the scourge, as she buckled forward, arms yanked upward by the chains
>her knees and forehead hit the stones - not too roughly to cause a lasting pain, but that only made his subsequent strikes all the worse
>because he kept going, mercilessly, now striking her thighs and ass, leaving welts and tiny cuts, with the skin too swollen around them to allow them to bleed

>...but eventually, he stopped, dropping the scourge
>he was panting - not from the exertion, she could tell, but because of something else
>the breaths became ragged, gasping for air... and then stopped


>it was dead silent


>then, she heard the sound

Cont.
-
>that unforgettable, horrible sound...
>...snapping bones, stretching and tearing cloth...
>...and skin...
>his muffled, pained gasps and cries, which reminded her of that accursed night
>the night she ruined it all


>with a final, loud SNAP! it all went silent again


>then...
>then came the chuckle

>low and breathless at first, it soon grew into a deep, bassy rumble, and then, into an uproarious, deafening laughter
>it was like being laughed at by a mountain, a rockslide
>it thundered into her ear, shaking her entire being

>...and then, she was whisked away...

***

>she was suspended, bound by ropes
>hung down from the ceiling, her shins tied to her thighs, arms bound behind her back and to her torso, keeping her upright
>allowing her to face the darkness
>she bit down on the ballgag - it was cold and still dry
>she tried the ropes, but it only gave her a sharp pain in her shoulders
>so, she slumped back, now, with a dull ache

>she didn't recognize the room - couldn't tell what was around her
>it was very quiet
>but just as she thought she was abandoned, IT appeared

>this... wasn't her husband
>he had his features, in traces - the horns, the hair, the red skin
>but it was all wrong, all twisted

>it came to her on all fours, it's eyes a blazing red
>it was the first thing she saw of it, and her blood ran cold

>she felt wet down there - but it wasn't arousal
>shutting her eyes in shame, she tried to close her legs, to no avail - the urine dribbled down her skin, dripping onto the floor


SUCH A NAUGHTY GIRL


>she opened her eyes to see the lecherous, needle-toothed grin of the Beast
>it towered over her, red eyes fixed upon her bound body
>she looked it in the eye - they were filled with rage


YOU ONLY DESERVE PUNISHMENT


>it stood on it's hind legs, and she felt something sharp scrape against her, before coming to rest on her lap
>she looked down
>her eyes widened, as she inhaled sharply around the gag

Cont.
-
>...it looked like the head of a long morningstar, with jagged, rosethorn-like barbs and spines, all curving upward
>it didn't even have a lip, just ended in a dull, rough tip - as if it wasn't meant for reproduction

>...only punishment


AND PUNISHMENT IS WHAT YOU'LL GET


>it gripped her, burning hot claws digging into her skin, searing her flesh
>the... tip slipped down, stopping in front of her tightly closed nether lips
>tears rolled down her face

>it thrust forward
>she screamed

>it all went black


***

>...she came to to the sound of sobbing
>she felt... light, though, her body ached - particularly her back
>all of it, in fact
>squinting, she slowly opened her eyes, only to close it again
>too bright
>she blinked as her eyes adjusted to the light, turning her head to the side, towards the sound... and heard water
>she was floating in it...
>...Oh, she was in the bath!

>the sound caught the attention of the room's other occupant
>he looked up, and she saw red, causing her heart to skip a beat
>...but then, she realized
>it wasn't the same infernal glow
>his eyes were red for a different reason:
>he'd been crying

>"Mi-Millie?" he asked, and she smiled back on him
>next thing she knew, he was hugging her, careful not to touch the healing wounds on her back
>he was blubbering through his tears and a volley of apologies, begging for her forgiveness
>she just hugged back, tearing up herself
>the water had a slight orange shade to it, due to the diluted blood

>he told her everything - the rage he held onto, the awe with which he witnessed the Vicar Man at work...
>...the pain...
>and the feeling of power, that slowly clouded his mind as the night went on
>now, it was early morning - he couldn't recall what happened after a certain point (sometime during the scourging), but when he came to, all his joints ached, and she was on the floor, laying atop a blood-soaked nun's attire, unconscious

Cont.
-
>he put her in the bath to clean her wounds, got the water running...
>...and just broke down, sobbing at what he had done
>Millie said nothing, she just grabbed the back of his head, and pressed his forehead against her own, caressing him as he slowly calmed down, hitched breaths and hiccups slowly smoothing out
>when he opened his mouth to continue, her lips quickly sealed it - they kissed, long and passionate arms coming to wrap around each others' neck and head, their tongues doing a slow dance

>when they finally parted, breathless, they touched foreheads again, slumping against one another
>"...I love you." she said
>"..." he gaped for a few moments, before he pressed his lips against hers, entering into another, long kiss - a lot hungrier, this time around
>they were panting when they stopped, and the color seemed to return to their skin
>"...Can you ever forgive me?" he asked, not hoping for a positive answer
>"...Can you?" she asked, sounding just as guilty
>he stared at her, incredulously, like she just insulted his mother out of the blue
>"Nothing you've done could've made you deserve this..." he muttered, casting his gaze towards the ground "...Deserve me..."
>"You think so?" she sounded surprisingly nonchalant
>he looked back up at her, awed
>she smiled sweetly
>"Because I cannot be more grateful for the day we've met. No matter what happened since!"
>he stared at her in awe, blushing slightly
>still, his memory brought him back down to reality
>"But... But last night..."
>"We both weren't honest, and we paid for it." she said softly, but firm in her words "But I'm fine, and so are you. So, let's not dwell on it!"
>"...Alright," he agreed

>they sat in silence for some time, listening to each others breaths

>"But... I think I'd like to do it vanilla from now on... At least for a little while..."
>"Agreed... You'll be on top."
>"Oh, definitely!"


***
-
>elsewhere, an imp and a Hellhound stared at the screen, slack-jawed and wide-eyed

>what started as a fun night for the vicarious voyeur (with a twist on the usual formula), and seemed like a free show for the horny bitch, had quickly malformed into...
>...whatever the Hell that was...
>at one point, the image and audio became so corrupted and loud that they genuinely feared the screen would explode, showering them with sharp blades of glass
>instead, they just lost signal, and when it came back, it showed their co-worker, kneeling beside the bath with his unconscious, still wife in it, sobbing

>they stared, horrified beyond words, for some time
>then, Loona broke the silence

>"...Holy shit..."

>Blitzo, who could only close and shut his maw while trying to form a coherent sentence, finally managed to blurt out a reply:

>"...Yeah..."

>they sat in silence, once again
>then, the imp finally found his voice

>"...I think I'll destroy the tape."
>"I'll bring the gasoline."
>"Thank you, Loonie."
>"Shut up."


>elsewhere, in Pandemonium
>Lucifer shifted in his seat, a pondering frown on his face
>"What's the matter, dear?" Lilith asked, looking up from a bit of paperwork
>"Moloch just called." the Devil replied "Said he felt a disturbance in the force..."
>"...Has he been bingewatching the first trilogy again?" his wife asked, bemused.
>"Nah, I felt it, too..." he replied "It's like... I don't know, like someone tried to thread me through a needle."
>Lilith hummed, eyebrows raised
>she then leaned in close, candidly asking
>"Did it work?"
>he shrugged
>"Well, I got through it."


>back in the tiny apartment, the burned scars on Moxxie's back - resembling a pair of angelic wings - flared up with pain, causing him to let out a small, suppressed his of pain
>Millie didn't notice, but he knew he'll have to talk about it - and he will!
>later


The End