Life continues to suck for Kuro

This year has been a particular hell for one priest. It feels to him like he's spent the entirety of it dressed up in one way or another. One season he's being squeezed into a frilly pink apron and tight underthings, the next he's laced into a nun's robe instead of his usual very clean and sophisticated corset and priest's garb, packed up in multiple layers of sweaters, or wobbling around uncomfortably in a Halloween costume. This evening, Mercy has successfully wrangled him into a proper suit. His body is covered completely, which he can only complain about somewhat, considering his usual attire has his top half exposed to the elements, but it's the things he is expected to do in this suit that make him miserable. Mercy stands in front of him, holding the buttons down the front of his blazer in their hands and rubbing a small handkerchief back and forth on them until the gold can reflect their face in them.

"Really, it is only twice as hard as greeting patrons at the front door of the church, Kuro," they scold him. He frowns down twice as hard and resists smacking their hands away from his buttons.

"Twice as hard, Mercy. May I inform you the words you just said to me were twice as hard."

Mercy looks up with the usual sparkle of mischief in their eyes - and nods at him. They did say it on purpose after all. Kuro's posture slumps down in response to this, to which they grab the ends of his suit jacket, pull them together, and force his posture up nice and tall. He sputters, but has no choice but to correct himself, even as veins of annoyance pop out on the top of his hands when he balls them into fists. Mercy nods in approval and makes a short hum. In his head, he can hear them calling him a good boy for his compliance to their wishes. It makes him wish he could take his crop and smack them with it next.

Speaking of, Mercy's hands find the thin leather object in question and get to work making a suitable place to store it while they speak to Kuro. 

"The Church of Sulfur is on a good basis with Angora and her businesses. After all, she indulges a very different sin than we do. It keeps buns on the path that Sulfur would approve of. It's only expected that we make a good show of ourselves to work the event so the buns and dolls can enjoy a night off, don't you think? Everyone must do their part."

"My part should be spent at the church, waiting for those that will inevitably rush to the doors once the event has ended to seek guidance."

"I could put you on clean-up duty instead of greeting, you know. Just think of the things you'll be scraping off the tables and couches…"

Kuro shudders. Mercy hides a smirk by ducking their head down. They've wrapped a harness around Kuro's thigh. It's very tasteful. Much like the crop itself, the dark black leather of the harness is accented with gold buckles and stitching. It pushes into the thick muscle of his thigh, making it pouch out even under the fabric of his suit. Just the smallest touch of indulgence takes an otherwise nondescript staff uniform and adds something secret and naughty to it. Mercy likes it. They communicate this quite well in the way their fingers linger over his thigh, stroking down the change from leather to pants to leather again. They guide the bottom of Kuro's riding crop up through the harness. Tightening the straps just-so secures the crop in place. 

Kuro feels like an imp held up by puppet strings, expected to dance for the entertainment of the burrowgatory who will not remember this night after their heavy drinking escapades in the first place. He shifts himself, trying to adjust to the weight and feel of the fancy suit around him. He swings his leg back and forth, feeling the harness and how it squeezes him and how odd it is to not have his crop in his hand, ready to be used. Mercy brushes their knee against him as he does, slowing the motion with the contact. He jumps from it - only slightly. 

"I can't promise you I will be kind to those that I am greeting," Kuro informs. 

"Yes you can. When do you ever do the opposite of what is ordered of you from the church? You know as well as I do… your bark and your bite may be quite strong, but the bonezo will still come if his leash is tugged. Is it not Sulfur who holds that leash now?" 

Kuro feels like it is someone else entirely that holds that power over him. His stares past Mercy, glaring at the wall behind their head. Instead of attempting to argue now when he is already preparing for the mortifying ordeal ahead of him of greeting and addressing and being kind and patient to succubuns night long… he simply nods. It's hard to ignore how aggravated Mercy's closed-eye and curved-mouth smile from the corner of his vision makes him, however. 

"Fine. Let us proceed to get this night over with. Now."

"Good boy," Mercy coos, finally. 

Kuro reaches for the crop in it's harness and brings it up, aiming for the doll's thigh, but by the time he's reacted they're already walking away, waving their fingers daintily for him to follow along. He plants his face in both palms and GROANS at the top of his lungs.