The sacred chamber in the pinnacle of the High Church thrummed with the aftermath of ecstasy, the air thick with the musky scent of sweat, cum, and incense. Lucifer sat enthroned in the papal chair, his robes disheveled but his composure unbroken.
Bela nestled against his chest, her golden curls matted to her skin, her body still quivering from the waves of pleasure he'd forced upon her. At his feet, Calipso knelt like a faithful disciple, her tongue lazily lapping at the remnants of his seed that dripped from Bela's stretched pussy.
The stained-glass windows cast fractured rainbows across their entangled forms, mocking the holiness of the space.
But Lucifer's hunger was far from sated. His blue eyes, sharp as midnight blades, scanned the room with predatory intent. "More," he murmured, his voice a low command that sent shivers through both women. "Bring them all. Every nun, every female cardinal who serves this false god. Tonight, they worship me."
