Syncletia's aquiline nose flared as soon as she strode across the threshold to the Onanites' chambers, her lust-fired senses immediately assaulted by a wave of raw musk that almost knocked the breath from her lungs. Inside, her watery blue eyes momentarily struggled to adapt to lighting even dimmer than the hushed special collections room of the library several floors above; here, a much larger space was barely illuminated by the dim blue light of scores of screens arrayed in ranks through the open floorplan of the masturbatorium.

The bimbo nun's senses rapidly adjusted, her salivary glands flooding as her body responded to the fog that hung heavily in the stuffy air of the gooners' cave. "Fuck," Syncletia exclaimed, and reflexively expelled a sharp stream of spit towards the shadowed floor, wiping her bee-stung lips with a gloved hand. "Spyro, it smells like the fully fucked crotch of Christ after His forty days of fornication in here."

Directly ahead of her, the elaborately harnessed Master Onanist shuddered violently, emitting another long grunt and letting loose another stream of pre-ejaculate from his sheathed shaft. The wet splatter that met his emission and her innate predatory senses for cum told Syncletia that the whole floor of this pigpen, still unseen in the darkness, was thick with the Onanites' leakings. Spyro's jaw slacked as his tongue momentarily lolled forward, visibly restraining himself from following after the trail of Syncletia's spittle to the floor. A feat of further self-restraint that doubtlessly few of his more junior acolytes would have been able to manage. "NnnngggHHHHHhhhhhh. Yes, s-s-s-s-s-Sister, that's the s-s-smell of our bateworship."

At his comment, another low moan emanated from a Onanite brother sitting immediately nearby, whose gaze remained locked on to a quad array of porn feeds that served to illuminate his insistent double-fisted act of prayer. "NNNNNgggh!" the gooner exclaimed loudly, "Bateworship! Worship the bate! My cock for porn! ArrghhhaBBBBlll.... cockkkkkk feels good! PUMP!" At this, the whole row of Onanites nearest Syncletia and her guide began to babble and moan in cascading counterpoint, their ecstasy careening back and forth off of each others' communal teetering pre-orgasmic edge.

Spyro attempted to motion Syncletia onwards, but several of the goonpigs nearest them had registered their presence at the peripheral edges of their broadcast feeds as something more than just a new trigger around which to harmonize their pump pleasures. In their hyperstimulated state, nearly any female flesh would have doubtlessly triggered desperate displays of ecstasy, but Syncletia's pornified visage was a revelation.

"UNNGHHH" another nearby bator exclaimed, eyes bulging as his porn-soaked brain struggled to consume the full sweep of the nun's hyper curves. "Fuck! Fuckgoddesssss! See my cock! Take my bate! Built to --NGHHCUMMINNGGGGGGGG!" With a convulsive shudder, the Onanite acolyte's desperately swollen cock erupted uncontrollably from his tightly wrapped fist, splattering Syncletia's bare tanned midriff with a torrent of weeks-backed-up ball juice from fully six feet away. Slumping backwards in his batestation, the lapsed brother emitted a low, spent moan, his eyes still wide and glued sightlessly to the screen mounted ahead of him.

Syncletia's entrance shook the Onanites' goon cave like an earthquake.

Syncletia stuck her tongue out reflexively as she looked down, directing her gaze between the twin mounds of her cleavage that jutted out of her chest and observed the heavy splatter of white, syrupy cum that had gushed out in a thick volley all over her midriff. It was an incredibly thick and heavy load, the pearliest white, incredibly creamy and potent goo that had been stirred into a cloying, heavy consistency from god knows how many weeks – years - of being stirred around the onanite’s ball sack. It stuck where it landed on her thick, defined, slab-like abdominal muscles standing out in a chaotic splatter against the perfect even bronze of the sculpted flesh of her taut striated waist.

‘NNIGNGHGHGNNNNghghgnnnGHGHGHGNNnnnnnGHHHGHGHHHG…’

The onanite was now jerking like a man possessed, administering footlong strokes to a penis so dismorphically inflated it looked like an industrialized peppermill. She could see only the whites of his eyes, the pupils having rolled up into his forehead, and face was contorted into a ridiculous spastic rictus of insane pleasure, his tongue protruding from his mouth and his jaw hanging open in an idiot leer.

'B-bb-bbrotherrr-rr B-b-bb-aathttthhh-oll-' Spirus began.

It wasn't clear to Syncletia what name the master of the onanites was attempting to pronounce, but if it was anything like ‘Bartholomew’ they were going to be there for a long time. Before brother Spiro had even got to the first syllable of the spasming young novice's first name, the gooner’s frenzied jacking of his hypersensitive schlong had loosed another jetting spray of thick, viscous white discharge that sprayed out of the rock hard, veiny dong and creamed Syncletia all over her pussy.

The bimbo nun couldn't help gasping as the fat wad smacked into her creamy honeypot.

The bimbo nun's face went pink with arousal, her wet lips quivering with barely-checked lust. "S-S-Sister F-F-F-F-F..." stammered the Master Onanist, voice trailing off as he struggled to contain himself. "I s-s-s-s-s-s-see you've met -bb-bbb-Brotherrr Bbbarrth-hhllllycus" Spyro stuttered, "eh... I'll introduce you to the other goonpigs at the propper time..."

"I'm sure I'll meet them soon enough if that’s how they like to say hello," Syncletia purred thickly, her eyes scanning the ranks of naked, jerking pigbrothers.

‘’I ww-wondered www-wwhe-ttherr y-yourr prescence here was going to c-c-c-ause p-ppp-pp—pproblems…’ Spyro mused, completely helpless at the sight of the stacked blonde's jiggling chest and cum-splattered abdomen.

Barthyllycus whole body was frozen in an orgasmic rictus of pure pleasure. His hands were a blur on his bucking footlong convulsing shaft.

‘NNNNHGHGHNNHGHGGHGHhhhhghghghghghhghghghgGGHGHGHGHNNNNNNGHGhghgh!!!’

Months of sustained bateworship were being surrendered in a colossal drenching plume of thick semen that was being sprayed in thick gushes all over Syncletia.

‘YEEEESSSSSS Piggie!’ Syncletia cried as the flashing ribbon of cum pasted itself up the full length of her face, from her chin right up into her hair. After this a fourth rope of cum burst forth explosively from the onanite’s gaping pisshole, this one pasting itself in a splatter over her right cheek.

‘Fucking getting glazed here!’

Spyro was conflicted, tutting at the onanite’s lack of resolve as his over-sexed charge displayed his lack of religious discipline, but at the same time his monster cock leaking thicker gouts of precum that had real projection as they splattered out of his trussed up cock. The mechanism slowed even further to regulate his worship, and the lower part of the harness pulled at his balls to prevent the possibility of release.

The naked, busty templar felt her pussy start to convulse, her shining, sweat-dappled and muscular, bronzed body starting to tremble and shake as Barthyllycus continued to eject gigantic, volcanic horseloads from his massive schlong, the spasming cum tube painting her tits now with his thick, milky, gluey cum. The onanite ran his hand up and down his giant, pulsing, veiny prong as he pumped his surging prick in 12-inch strokes, twisting as he reached the head each time, groaning through gritted teeth as he moved the spitting tip upwards so that it disgorged more loads all over the tattooed vixen’s face, the spurting ribbons projecting out of his cock and the heavy wads of cum crisscrossing her face in a bizarre pattern that soon clung over her eyes, nose, lips and cheeks in a thick, molten, white film.

‘S-s-such a shame. Hh-hhe hh-had s-ssuch promise…’

Spyro positioned himself so that his raging, tumescent hardon was being mechanically jacked so that its hot, gluey, transparent emissions plastered themselves all over her glossy, spheroid assmeat glutes. He would be very surprised if his young brethren wouldn’t require a spell in the infirmary after this. Barthyllycus was by no means an inexperienced gooner, and he was going to pay the price for releasing such a load so instinctively. He hoped the rest of the onanites could restrain themselves while Syncletia was around.

Meanwhile, Syncletia stuck her fingers between her legs, pumping her pussy with four fingers, which was now absolutely dripping as she frenziedly fingered herself, climaxing as the onanite’s spunk continued to impact in dense, roping sprays down on her gorgeous face, now absolutely pasted, the warm thick cum heavy on her skin, so thick and gluey it barely dripped off, but merely extended in finger-thick ropes from her chin, lips and jawline. Her face was a total mess, a thorough whitewash of milky cum covering every square inch, the heavy gobs now sliding sluggishly down the sides of her face and neck and flowing down her silken, caramel skin.

She stuck her tongue out and twerked her huge, cum-dripping tits at Barthyllycus.

‘Fuck yeah!’

The young onanite stopped jerking abruptly. As a thick rope of cum sluiced out of his pulsing cockend, connecting him to the soupy floor of precom and ejaculate, his eyes rolled back down into his skull.

For a second, his eyes met Syncletia, then he keeled over, pitched over his chair, and landed face-first in the slop.

Spyro gave a shuddering sigh of resignation as Barthyllycus pitched forward into the muck in front of them — another lapsed brother, years of self-control undone by the pornified slut-Sister in front of him. "C-c-c-come, s-s-s-s-Syncletia..." he murmured, nudging the bellend of his encased prong forward to mash into one of her firm golden glutes, attempting to prod her further away from the site of the collapsed onanite, which was starting to draw more glassy-eyed gazes of other nearby gooners. "Indeed," Syncletia agreed, sweeping a hand up along the swell of her left tit, from underboob to the nub of her nipple, collecting a sticky handful of Barthyllycus' backed-up ball juice and tongueing it from her fingers before the warmth fully faded from the thick, glutinous webbing.

Syncletia flexed her cheeks to encourage another wet emission from the senior Brother's staff laid across them, then strode forward casually over the body of the onanite whose brain she had broken. Spyro's masterful self-restraint held him back for a few paces, the strand of pre-cum linking his cockhead and Syncletia's ass pulling taut and then snapping free.

"T-t-th-th .. over t-th-there." Spyro pointed weakly towards a far corner of the pigpen, towards a gap in the batestations three rows back. Onanites thrust their cocks forward desperately as the amazonian fuckdoll strode casually through their ranks, humping their hands and drooling at her passing approach. A few managed to swipe hungrily at her jizz-glazed skin, smearing Barthyllycus' cum deeper into her muscular frame or using globs of their fallen brother's spray to add to their own lube leaks. Buzzing on the edge of orgasm from the total coating she had received, Syncletia showed some restraint of her own and largely bypassed the babbling crowd, refocused on the vision that Brother Faustus had dispatched her here to investigate.

As she approached, Syncletia saw that the cluster of monitors and pornfeeds arrayed around the now-empty batestation were completely crusted over with dried jizz, as if they had been attacked by a drunk with a paint roller. The spattering almost completely obscured the fact that the screens themselves were black, and shattered in some cases — whether by the ejaculatory force of the onanite who once worshipped here, or the unknown nature of the forbidden iconography itself, it was hard to say. Syncletia bent forward at the waist, studying the console controls from which the gooners surfed their infinite pornfeed.

"HNNNgghhHHHH." Behind her, Brother Spyro gasped as his pump harness constricted his cock and he leered over the g-string bisecting the heart-shaped globes of Syncletia's ass and the stretching tendons of her powerfully corded thighs.

Syncletia's talents were principally focused on the physical domain, not the technical - a few taps at the console confirmed the controls were effectively glued in place, totally non-responsive. Rising, she turned to Spyro and cocked an eyebrow. "Seems to be pretty well shot through, Spyro. What force could have done this?"

"I.. I-I c-c-can't be s-s-s-sh-sure, Sister." Spryo wheezed, causing his protruding schlong to bob tremulously in the direction of the vacant seat where the portentous vision had evidently been delivered. "Brother Joseph was among the most experienced of our order. Like all of us, he sought to ride the e-e-e-edge. To let his cockkkkKK take control. To penis his DONG dumbbbb --" Spyro shuddered, right eyelid twitching as his body spasmed, the mechanisms on his harness hissing and tightening sharply. A stream of drool spilled from Spyro's gaping mouth as he froze for a full minute before his body shuddered again, his higher brain functions reasserted themselves through decades of devotional training, redirecting him away from the abyss. Coughing spasmodically, Spyro continued after a pause, "AAhh. HrnGGHH. Pardon, S-s-sis-sister. I do not know what Br-brother Joseph saw. What b-b-b-broke his COCKbrain. But his batebrother may."

Motioning, Spyro pointed to the onanite trussed into the goonstation couch immediately adjoining them — a young, lightly muscled and fully nude black man, his eyes encased in a wraparound visor cabled up into the ceiling above, and his fists double wrapped around a massive, foot-and-a-half-long prong, rippling with veins and shining from sweat and the steady leak of precum emanating from a pinkish mushroom head as big as Syncletia's small fist. The visor's total obscuration of his vision was doubtless the only reason the onanite had not erupted over Syncletia as Barthyllycus had moments before; he was emitting a low, continual wordless groan, his smooth, swollen balls bouncing as he blindly pumped his prayers. "B-b-brother Julius and Brother J-J-j-Joseph were c-c-cock-bonded. They were frat-frotting when it h-h-hhappened. Brother Joseph received the raw signal, p-p-pure pornography," Spyro explained, a look of dazed admiration and raw envy on his slack features. "Brother Julius -- it was a near thing, but in the end he b-b-barely held his load."