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It was time for confessional at Garrag Mach Monastery and as the advisor to the archbishop, it was Seteth’s job to listen to the worries and sins of the residents of the monastery, behind a veil of anonymity of course. He was too busy with his countless other tasks to do it frequently, so he devoted one day each month to this one. The confessions rarely ventured further than a knights guilt over a fallen comrade or one of the local orphans’ confessing their white lies, making it a relatively mindless task for the advisor, not that it helped him ignore his other tasks nagging at the back of his mind. Regardless, it was relaxing and somewhat enjoyable to help ease the worries of those who lived at the monastery, that was until he heard a very familiar voice come from the other side of the booth.

“Father, I’ve come to confess my sins against the goddess,” Byleth said, nearly emotionless.

“Thank you for coming. Please be as candid as you like, I assure you there is redemption for all those who practice the goddess’ teachings”. Seteth tried to suppress his annoyance and act as professional as possible. There had been more than one occasion that Byleth had suggested they use the confessional as a sexual roleplay scenario but he wanted to give his partner the benefit of the doubt, of course, it was possible that he actually had some guilt harboured in his mind.

“Father,” what was with this ‘father’ bit? “I believe I’m plagued with feelings of lust for a particular… priest. I find that when I am listening to his sermons I’m distracted, thinking about him whispering those words of worship into my mouth and onto my skin. I often imagine him taking me into the cathedral and—“

“Whore,” Seteth let slip out. He damned himself for thinking this was anything more than an act that would eventually lead to sex. And in the workplace too, the audacity.

“Excuse me?” Seteth could hear the faintest hint of a smile in his voice. He was playing right into his role, as much as it annoyed him to do so.

“Whore. These filthy thoughts, during worship and in a holy space, will lead you to damnation and mere consolation will not redeem you.” It was a quick escalation but Seteth wanted to finish this set up as quickly as possible so he could get back to his actual work. “I will have to ask you to come to my office this evening. Hopefully I will be able to set you straight then.”

“Ah— I thought this was supposed to be anonymous.”

“Frankly, I do not think you deserve that luxury.”

“I see. Well, I guess I will meet with you later,” Byleth said with not a hint of fear that should have been there had it been anyone else. He left the booth allowing Seteth to get back to his work, though the conversation would linger and join the rest of the thoughts nagging him until this job was done.

The anticipation of the evening’s meeting would plague the professor as well, as he attempted to teach his students that day. Teaching, the reason he was even at the monastery, not to be the priest’s whore. Then again, Byleth was not raised religiously so whatever sacrilege he was committing he couldn’t bring himself to care. He spent the following hours lecturing to his class about trajectory? Battalions? The differences or similarities between wyvern riders and pegasus riders? Out of everyone in the classroom, it was Byleth who was probably paying the least attention to the day's lesson. He simply read directly from the textbooks while his mind wandered to more interesting places, like the fine details of how he needed Seteth to absolutely ruin him that evening. He noticed the sun finally setting and quickly dismissed the class, more excitedly than he should have. He then hurried to Seteth’s office to experience the fruits of the morning’s labour.

Seteth had finally managed to sit down in his office when he almost immediately heard a knock at the door.

“Come in,” he said instinctively through his exhaustion. He quickly remembered his role as he noticed Byleth walk in, attempting to look sheepish over his usual emotionless expression. “Oh, professor! Punctual as ever, I suppose it was you who I had asked to meet with this morning. Please have a seat.” Seteth sounded as cold as he could manage. He straightened himself in his chair as to appear meaner, more angry, though it was difficult when it was his partner sitting across from him.

“Yes, Father.” How long was he going to keep calling him 'father'?

“And I presume it was I who instilled these temptations within you.” The air in the office grew cold as Seteth stared the man across him down, demanding a response.

Byleth hesitated. The way Seteth was controlling the mood made him feel as though he had actually done something wrong, a feeling he revelled in. “Yes, Father.”

“I see. Then I suppose I will have to take responsibility.” He stood up, walked over to face Byleth, and grabbed a fistful of his hair. He winced at the sudden pain and then again when Seteth tugged him out of the chair. “On your knees. Learn to ask the goddess yourself for the forgiveness you so desire.” He released Byleth and leaned back onto his desk as the man across from him got to work at mumbling his fantasies for the goddess, and Seteth, to hear. Stories spilled out of his mouth about him getting fucked in the cathedral, in front of the saint statues and on the pews, stories of him being worshipped by the priest just as he would the goddess. Seteth made a mental note that he would have to lecture Byleth again about satisfying his sexual urges in a godly way. His cold demeanour turned to disgust as he watched an erection grow in Byleth’s pants.

“Professor!” Byleth’s head shot up at the sudden shout. “How dare you?! To become aroused while confessing your sins to the goddess! Have you learned nothing during your time here? Clearly your own guilt is not enough to quell your lust, perhaps a punishment is in order.” Seteth passed by Byleth to lock the door to his office then returned to grab his hair again, forcing his head back so that his eyes met his own. He nudged Byleth’s legs open with his foot then stepped down on his erection. The pressure was gentle at first, eliciting a moan from the man beneath him. “You are not supposed to like this.” Seteth pressed down harder. He continued to gradually increase the pressure until Byleth started grabbing at his leg. “Is this painful?”

Byleth averted his eyes. “Yes.”

“Good.” Seteth pressed harder again, forcing a yelp out of Byleth.

His breathing grew heavy. The pain was starting to get to him and the glare coming from Seteth only made his discomfort worse. He tried to break the eye contact between them but each time he did so the grip on his head tightened, reminding him what Seteth wanted from him. “Please,” he managed to breath out.

“Please, what? Use your words professor.”

Byleth’s face turned a deep red. It was humiliating, he felt like a child suffering through a particularly bad scolding. “Please stop.”

“Stop what?” Seteth maintained his pressure on Byleth.

“Stop stepping on me… please, get off me.” Byleth’s pleads were quiet and awkward. Seteth figured this was the best he would get out of him and stepped off of his erection as well as released his grip from his hair. Byleth took the opportunity to soothe his aching head but the respite was short-lived as he was soon facing Seteth’s cock.

“I’m sure you know what to do with this.”

The response was immediate as Byleth pressed his lips to the head of the cock and slowly took it in his mouth. He started to bob his head, creating a rhythm that Seteth soon matched his breathing to. The priest’s hands found their way into Byleth’s hair once again but rather than grab and tug roughly at it, they were gentle, brushing through the green locks and resting on his neck. Hands that were skilled at their harsh grip on the professor were much more skilled at loving him. Each stroke caused Byleth’s cheeks to redden and his heart to feel as though it would burst out of his chest. He wasn’t sure if this was Seteth protecting himself so that Byleth wouldn’t bite down or if he was showing mercy after his previous assault. Regardless, it was much appreciated.

“I assumed you would be better at this,” Seteth said, struggling to stay in character, but he was becoming like putty in Byleth’s hands. The pace on his cock quickened along with that of his breath. Byleth rolled his tongue along Seteth’s length and took it in until it burned his throat. His actions were becoming much like the worship he claimed he wanted from the priest. Seteth’s knees buckled under the pleasure and his rhythm with Byleth was ruined. He started panting and fiddling with Byleth’s hair just for something to occupy his hands. Byleth palmed at his own erection through his pants, getting off on how good he was making his partner feel.

“I’m getting close-” Seteth said, desperately trying to maintain his cold demeanour. “I’m getting close, so swallow it all.” He held Byleth’s head to his hips as he released into his mouth, a groan as his only verbal indication that he had actually came. He released Byleth and watched as he swallowed his cum then almost choke it back up. Seteth noticed some remnants on Byleth’s chin so he kneeled down to face him and wiped it off with his thumb. “This is what you wanted, was it not? So savour it,” Seteth said with a smile that was meant to be sadistic but came off as more loving and gentle. The sight of his lover wanting him so desperately, eyes hazy as he looked back at him, made it more and more difficult to act in anger. He found himself holding back, not to fuck his partner mercilessly, but to hold him and kiss him and make sweet love to him. He stuck his thumb into Byleth’s mouth, ensuring it was licked clean.

“Yes, father.”

Seteth stood back to admire his work. Byleth knelt before him in a daze, hair dishevelled, and cock throbbing in his pants. The sight was getting him hard again already.

“Stand up,” Seteth said.

Byleth obeyed, spending some extra time bent over rubbing his sore knees from kneeling down for so long.

“Strip” Seteth stared at Byleth as he removed everything except for his smallclothes. He waited for Seteth to give further instruction, attempting to make eye contact but it was difficult facing his glare. “Everything, Professor.”

Byleth hesitated before removing the last remnants of his clothing, freeing his cock. The priest hummed as he looked the man up and down. Byleth shivered, he couldn’t tell if it was from the breeze on his naked body or if it was because of Seteth’s eyes devouring him. Seteth approached Byleth and began to grope him. His arms, pecs, between his thighs, he was littered with scars but his toned body was still a sight to behold.

“Exquisite,” Seteth breathed. “What a shame that you decided to whore yourself out rather than find someone who would truly appreciate you. Anyhow,” he motioned to his desk, “bend over.”

Byleth felt compelled to defend himself but he wanted to see how far Seteth would go, how mean he could get before the fear of actually offending his partner set in, so he simply obeyed. He made his way over to the desk and bent over, presenting himself for Seteth’s use. Seteth approached Byleth and spread his ass open. He spit onto the hole and inserted a finger, and Byleth let out a sigh he didn’t even realize he was holding in. Seteth began his search for the spot in Byleth’s ass that would make him see stars. He twisted his finger, grinding at different spots until finally-

“Angh…” Seteth took the signal to insert a second finger and prod the spot at a painfully slow pace.

“Father, more… please,” Byleth moaned.

“How pathetic of you, professor. To think you would deserve worship when here you are, begging for pleasure, spreading your legs for anyone who tells you to.” Seteth maintained his pace.

“I wouldn’t do it for just anyone, Father.”

“Bold, coming from someone bent over my desk, panting like a dog in heat.” He pressed harder in Byleth, eliciting a hiss. Seteth was terribly gifted at this role. Almost everything he said made Byleth’s stomach drop, he was so humiliated and desperate. Desperate for Seteth’s abuse, desperate for his approval, desperate for any pleasure that he might be merciful enough to give him. Seteth’s thrusts were slow but hard, causing Byleth’s hips to twitch and his legs to weaken each time. He started grabbing at whatever he could on Seteth’s desk, papers, pens, documents, all finding themselves broken and crumpled. The priest counted himself thankful that he hadn’t gotten the chance to get any work done that day or his office would be in complete disarray.

“Father, harder… faster, please” Byleth tried moving his hips in rhythm with Seteth’s hand but it just caused him to slow his thrusts even more. Tears pricked at his eyes. If only Seteth would thrust faster, touch him anywhere else, even if he said the right things, at this point Byleth would probably cum. “Anything, please. Please, I’m so close.” Seteth noticed the pre-cum dripping from Byleth’s cock. Suddenly, the fingers were removed. “Father!” Byleth shot his head back to see Seteth wiping his hand in his cloak.

“I feel as though you’ve forgotten, professor, that this is supposed to be a punishment. It would do no good for you to actually relieve yourself. Now, head down, I’m not done with you yet.” Byleth obeyed and listened as Seteth paced his office, grabbed something out of a drawer, and then returned.

Byleth felt spit run down his hole once again, then Seteth’s very well lubed cock push it’s way in. Byleth arched his back in response as Seteth thrust slowly into him. The pace quickly increased in speed and Byleth lost his footing, falling onto the edge of the desk. Seteth kept him up with each hard thrust. Moans and grunts filled the room. Calloused hands searched Byleth’s body. They were gentle and harsh all at the same time, finding their way between his thighs, on his hips, playing with his nipples. Each touch was calculated to make Byleth feel as little and as much as possible, he couldn’t help but tremble.

Seteth bent down, his breath hot on Byleth’s ear. “You’re tight. Perhaps you’re not as much of a whore as I thought.” The assault continued. Each thrust was perfectly positioned to attack Byleth’s prostate. He and Seteth had been together long enough that such a feat had become second nature, but that didn’t stop him from crumbling under the pleasure each time they had sex. It was torturous. Byleth felt that any physiological response, were it to laugh, to vomit, to scream, would be appropriate, as long as it released even some of the pent up pleasure that was consuming him. Bruises formed at his hips each time he was forced against the desk.

“Father,” Byleth whined. “Please, touch me… please touch my cock.”

Seteth relented, bringing his hand down to pump Byleth’s length. “Aren’t I kind? Allowing you pleasure?”

“Yes, Father. Thank you! Thank you so much!” Byleth was nearly sobbing at this point. The heat produced in his chest and groin coursed through him. It was much easier to get words out of him when he was overwhelmed like this. Seteth’s pace was becoming less rhythmic and his breathing more laboured. Byleth’s legs shook from the pleasure. They were both close.

“Father, please, can I cum?”

“Good boy. Yes, you may. I’m close too, take it all.”

Seteth continued stroking Byleth’s cock, his thrusts became longer and harder as he released inside Byleth. The man beneath him shivered and choked out a sob as he came on the desk. After a moment of rest, Seteth grabbed Byleth’s hair one last time and threw him onto the floor. Byleth laid, panting, the priest’s cum leaking out of him.

“Now, clean yourself up. I’m leaving but I expect to see you, along with every trace of this meeting gone by the time I get back.” He stuffed his cock back in his pants and left, slamming the door shut.

“Yes, Father. Thank you, Father.”

It was not long before Seteth returned with a towel and a glass of water.

“I’m back, my love.” Seteth’s voice was gentle, just like Byleth was used to. “Are you alright after that?”

“Yes, Seteth, thank you.” Byleth used the towel to wipe himself of his partner’s fluids. Seteth helped him onto the couch and handed him his robe to wrap himself in. “Was it good for you?”

Seteth blushed. “Yes, of course. Anything is good with you. But I feel I should be asking you that, with how I was treating you.” He sat down next to Byleth and let him rest on his shoulder.

“Of course. I was the one that asked for it after all. Thank you again, by the way.” He took a sip of water then laid his head back on Seteth’s shoulder, closing his eyes. It was times like these when he remembered the kind nature that made him fall for Seteth in the first place.

“Anytime.” Seteth leaned back and closed his eyes, allowing himself to rest as well under the weight of his lover.