The rival priestess stood framed in the broken archway—tall, regal, cloaked in violet silks that shimmered like moonlight. Her horns were polished. Her robes untouched. Her presence reeked of superiority.
Until she took her first step forward.
SPLAT—
Her sandal landed in a pool of cum.
She paused. Looked down. Eyed the chaos ahead.
Dozens of lizardwomen—former warriors, sacred acolytes, highborn matrons—were sprawled across the once-holy floor, twitching and moaning, bellies full, thighs stained white, tongues lolling out in dumb, blissed-out surrender.
And in the center of it all…
Allen.
Naked.
Dripping.
Radiating godlike, sexual energy like heat off magma.
He was lounging on the temple throne now—legs spread, a pair of twin priestesses worshiping his cock from either side, their tongues lapping in sync as if in prayer.
The High Priestess scoffed.
"So this is the man who dares desecrate the Temple of Scale?"
