WARNING, THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS; semi rough sex, graphic depiction of self mutilation, satanism. basically everything that is a sin lmao.
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"O father, thou who art in hell!"
Primrose stood concealed in the corner, transfixed upon her tutor in a state of shock.
"Give me strength, father!"
The room illuminated entirely by candles, their soft glow perfectly highlighting the contours of his fully naked body.
"Strength to resist the wicked temptation of her heavenly, nubile flesh!"
He rested wearily upon his knees, the floor soaked in his own blood. Primrose could barely process the sight before her as something that was actually happening.
He looked at up in awe.
"Persistent little thing, aren't you?"
How on earth had she got herself into this situation?
Only a few moments prior she was safely within her room, reading the magick book's entry on transmutation. It had read:
The art of transmutation is an ability dependent on the mind and sheer strength of will. Picture yourself in the spot you desire, and with the essence of your being you must call out to it, and let your soul lead you there.
Primrose didn't have a specific place in mind, she just knew that wherever he was, she wanted to be too.
In hindsight, it might've been an error in judgement.
And so here she was, shivering under the gaze of her tutor... as he lay fully naked in the middle of some sort of satanic ritual...
She gasped as his coal black eyes met hers.
His eyes! Just like the dream! she thought to herself.
He instructed her to step forward, and for reason beyond any sane and rational explanation, she could not find it within herself to disobey. She treaded carefully, trying her best to avoid any stray candles lest her white nightgown go up in flames.
She reached the perimeter of the circle of blood and wax that surrounded him. He encouraged her to continue, but something inside her hesitated.
"I understand you have reservations," he spoke, finally, yet his voice was much deeper than she remembered it ever being. "As you should. Frankly, I'd be alarmed if you didn't."
"It's important you understand the repercussions of what you are about to do. Once we are rejoined, there is no turning back. We can never part. Is this understood?"
Despite the fact she understood very little about the current situation, she found herself nodding her head and continuing forward into the circle.
As soon as her foot made contact with the cold flooring within the circle, the candles flickered harshly, as though they were agitated by her very presence.
He beckoned her forth to come sit on his lap and she complied, letting out a squeak of shock as she felt his bare member hard against her clothed heat.
"You are the pinnacle of temptation." He began pressing kisses to the skin above the neckline of her nightie. She ran her hands through his hair and tugged at the roots gently, eliciting a small moan from him. "You are loveliness incarnate!"
"You're everything I dreamed you would be." She replied with the sweetest of smiles.
As lovely as his kisses were, she found herself needing more.
Much more.
What she needed was something no man had ever given her before.
Impatiently, she began to rub against his exposed thigh. With his strong hands on her hips, he guided her motions.
"That's it, sweetheart." He cooed as little gasps left her lips. "I want to taste you, all of you. I want to devour you, swallow you whole."
"I've... never done anything like this... is that okay?" She spoke in between moans.
"Of course it's okay, little lamb." He chuckled, darkly. "If anything, it's quite sexy; knowing that I'm the only man who gets to touch you, to see you like this-"
"Hmm, well..." She giggled as she suddenly remembered that unfortunate incident with Etu.
He ceased his actions to look her in the eye with a serious intent. "I'll take the life of any man who dares to look upon you."
"Oh sir, you say such wild things!" She gasped in delight as he launched an attack on her neck with his lips.
Her delight turned to trepidation as he produced a dagger, seemingly from nowhere.
"It is clear that I must mark you as my own."
Gently he laid her onto her back on the floor, her hair fanning out around her like a halo.
Initially she feared that he would literally mark her with his knife, but it soon transpired that he had a rather different idea.
He ran the blade up and down the front of her nightdress, teasingly. He did so love to watch her squirm. Then, with great swiftness and care, he slashed the garment open, exposing her bare breasts to him.
Momentairly delighting at the sight of her newly exposed flesh, he then pressed the blade to the same place on his left forearm he had slashed earlier for his ritual that, at some point since, had miraculously healed over.
"Sir...?"
He smiled at her display of concern for him, before gently shushing her.
He winced in pain as the cold steel pierced his flesh. The blood trickled down his arm like a crimson waterfall, dripping down onto his lover beneath him, staining her once pure skin red. Without a moment's pause, he slashed the other arm, and began to smear his blood all over her ripped clothing and naked body.
"You look so fucking beautiful like this, covered in my blood, covered in me." He said in a low, seductive voice, tossing the knife behind him and leaning down to run his tongue all over her blood-covered torso.
She knew she should've been disgusted, repulsed, horrified. She knew that.
But she was far too aroused and excited to start questioning things now.
Both of them were so eager they considered foreplay to be an unessecary torture. His sexual hunger illustrated further by the way he impatiently tore away her underwear with his bare hands.
"Your name..." She groaned as he finally pushed himself inside her, not waiting a minute for her to adjust before he began his harsh thrusts. "Tell me your name."
As his speed increased, he found it harder and harder to speak.
"Tell me your name!" She harshly insisted, rolling her hips upward to match his movements.
His movements were becoming more and more sporadic; he was close, and so was she.
As she felt her orgasm approaching, small droplets of water marked the spot where Michael had buried his face in her neck; he was sobbing his way through their shared climax.
"Tell me..." She felt fireworks exploding deep within her, rippling through her whole body as Michael shuddered above her.
"Oh, Michael!" She screamed.
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"I am a slave of the infernal bridegroom, the phantasmagorian master; he who seduces the foolish virgins. That's exactly the devil he is. He's no phantom, he's no ghost. He was a child - or almost... His delicate mysterious ways enchanted me. I forewent all my duties in order to follow him.
We are exiles from this world.
Satan, you fool, you want to dissolve me with your charms. Well, I want it. I want it! Stab me with a pitchfork, sprinkle me with fire! Return me to life!
Oh, and this poison! This eternally accursed embrace! My weakness, and the world's cruelty! My god, have pity, hide me, I can't control myself at all! I am hidden, and I am not.
And as the damned soul rises, so does the fire."
-Arthur Rimbaud, A season in hell.
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author's note; i just realised this is the second time michael has taken prims virginty, what a guy lmao.