Syncletia lingered at the altar with Father Lucius. There was a tacit sense that more was to be said that hung in the air between them. In a fashion that was far from submissive in front of the horsedicked church elder, the gorgeous spunk-blasted fuckdoll slut grinned and then kneeled more fully before the monster-cocked priest, popping her bowling-ball booty globes alternately and allowing the smooth, curved glutes to jiggle, her firm skin shining in the candlelight behind her.
Father Lucius looked down as Syncletia’s bombshell ass as the bimbo fuckdoll of Christ twerked her thick, round, glistening assmeat, the tiny PVC skirt up around her waist in a way that fully displayed the hypnotic sway of her luscious rear. As she transferred his gaze, he was treated to the view of the mega-boobed whore of God wantonly and matter-of-factly sliding her face underneath his gargantuan member, the huge post-orgasmic organ at half-mast but ribbed with thick and pulsing branches of heavy veins all over the surface even in its deflated state.
There were whispers in the higher orders that Father Lucius was being tipped for being made a prelate, a position of power and influence only bestowed on individuals so full of Christ’s love that they were in a continual state of erection; rumours swirled concerning whether the prelates were selected out of those so blessed that even in the pornified, hypersexual generations born after Christ’s Fall they were prodigiously endowed, or whether some kind of arcane and mysterious enhancement ritual surrounded their induction into the higher echelons of the church. Whatever it was, Father Lucius was evidently being earmarked as a churchman who had what it took – and despite all this, it was clear, Syncletia was still toying with him like a cat with its prey. There was an alluring and confident gleam in her eyes, whenever one could be glimpsed from either side of where his immense, prodigiously vascular and meaty shaft laid down the centre of her face, with the stacked bimbo hardbodied whore slowly allowing the underside of the heavy tube of fuckmeat to glide over the slippery, sticky goo splattered all over her cumslick features.
‘Syncletia,’ Lucius rasped, not managing to disguise his arousal particularly well, the usual display of forbidding and stentorian proclamations falling away as the busty nun wickedly balanced his shaft on her nose, ‘you’re still one cock short of your penance…’
The latex clad, cum-spattered whore giggled, ‘Well Father Lucius I think you’re about to allow me to make good on that vow…’
Now the Father’s monster shaft, cobwebbed with fat, pulsing veins, was rising to tumescence. The gleaming, domed, purple hood even squeaked slightly as it slid upwards against the Nun’s dishevelled wimple, the slick cum easing against the shiny material. More and more, his giant spunk cannon gathered more mass, becoming increasingly and undeniably turgid.
‘I am afraid scripture is quite definitive on this, Syncletia,’ Father Lucius said, gritting his teeth, swallowing, and pushing it down, ‘The Black and Scarlet rubric clearly provides that the cocks pleasured in the course of penance must not be the same cock…’
Mock pouting, Syncletia’s grin took a turn for the wolfish, ‘well I guess I’ll just have to give you one for free, Father…’
Her thick eyelashes clogged and spangled with filaments of cum, Syncletia batted her eyes, half-lidded in an expression of dreamy carnal satiation, at Lucius, and allowed the behemoth penile trunk to slide both sides of her delicate nose. There was a further part squeaking, part squelching sound, as Lucius’s bloated, inflated cockend slid into the gap that had been punched into Syncletia’s wimple from behind, plugging it, the piece of PCV headgear askew on her head.
‘Well, it may not strictly be penance,’ Lucius conceded, ‘but it certainly is devotional…’
‘Mmmmmm-huh…’ Syncletia agreed, raising her eyebrows and nodding as suggestively as she could from under the bloated, pulsating shaft, her right hand reaching up and curling her thumb and forefinger as far around the base of the humongous penis as she could stretch them, the tightness of her grip making the criss-crossing webwork of veins that stuck out all over the surface pop even more turgidly.
Lucius lifted his head momentarily to survey the site of the confessional, where the gaggle of novices were still splayed out all over. It had the look of the aftermath of marathon orgy. Those novices were no wet-behind the ears alter-boys. Each was an almost impossibly virile, premium-dick packing stud in their own right, each of the most blessed of all the Christ’s Fall generation that has been taken from the wasteland and shown the ways of Christ the Man. Yet Syncletia had reduced them to piled up stacks of exhausted bodies, the impressively muscled and brawnily proportioned bodies lolling in heaps, legs slung over legs, torso over torso, chests heaving asthmatically, the puddle of cum that flooded out of the confessional eclipsing a five-foot radius around the booth. Indeed, Lucius spied a plume of cum rocket into the air from a rock-hard and spasming dick that still sprouted from one of the loins of the novices, accompanied by an intense groan that stood out above the general murmuring.
Syncletia had done all that – the poor aspirants were wrung out beyond endurance. Just one Nun. There was certainly something special about the gorgeous bimbo slut, Lucius reflected, that much was clear.
‘Perhaps you ought to visit the library, Syncletia. But not to view the illustrations of abominations as we discussed. Rather, you should see the Librarian, Brother Faustus. He told me recently of some interesting texts that have come to light in the wilderness. Rumours perhaps of new scripture, observances… perhaps even new gospels…’
As he said this, Father Lucius slid his hips forwards so that that the smooth, bell-shaped purple, throbbing crown slid further upwards, lifting the PVC wimple off the top of Syncletia’s head and slipping the base of his shaft all the way up to her lips, her fingers still ringed around it, his throbbing, monster nuts dangling just under her chin.
Moving his hips lightly to the side, his massive donkey-sized dick slightly askew, the underside slid off from where it pressed the bimbo Nun’s nose downwards and instead covered the left side of her face, the muscular, vascular, iron-hard log now sitting against the side of her nose. Lucius moved a hand reverently down, as if to rest it against the blonde, mega-jugged, cum-faced PVC whore’s forehead in a sign of benediction and instead pressed it downwards, touching the thumb against her nose and stretching his fingers around the meaty bulk of the mega-dick he was packing so that they touched her cheek near her ear. After this, with his thick tube of flesh captured between thumb and forefinger, Father Lucius started sawing his hips back and forth, sending his monstercock spearing though the channel he had created between his palm, outstretched fingers, and the bimbo’s face.
The underside of the base of the shaft was rubbing up and down against the stacked whore’s rubbery bimbo lips and the rest of it gliding up against her face, as Syncletia thrust her massive tits up and put her whore body into curving upwards to meet the thrusts of the penile cannon that were sliding around her face in faster and longer strokes. When Lucius took his hand away, Syncletia was perfectly in synch to wrap both of her latex gloved hands around the turgid fuckstick that felt iron hard as she slid into a twisting, double-fisted rhythm as she jacked the Father’s dick to orgasm.
Pointing the blunt cockend directly into her face, opening her mouth and sticking her tongue out before a series of thick ropes of heavy, white, splattering cum rocketed out of Lucius’ fuckstick and ended up messing up her cumsplattered bimbo face even more. Lucius gritted his teeth as the orgasm rocked him, an errant strand of cum finally pelting Syncletia’s wimple off her head, the garment tumbling down her back.
Finally after it subsided, the gorgeous blonde Nun was slurping away at the end of his cock, giving long, sensual licks with her tongue to the monstrous, massively inflated prong that was waving in front of her face. Every time she did so, she looked into his eyes, and withdrew her mouth as she lapped, to let a long, thick, rope of cum extend out in an expanding string between his long fuckstick and her face, some of which she succeeded in slurping down her throat, some of which dropped from her tongue and ended up dripping from her chin or her tits. Before long Syncletia had equipped herself with a cum beard. Father Lucius groaned as he saw the incredibly thick, glutinously mobile web of his thick semen hanging in a thick agglomeration of spunk ropes from the massive-jugged Nun’s chin, the white gooey webs clinging together and swaying in a gradually expanding accretion of pearly laces.
‘As I said, Syncletia… the library… the library.’
Belching, Syncletia rose, crossed herself before the altar, which Father Lucius stood almost brokenly in front of, and strode out.
