The altar still pulsed with heat. Slick bodies collapsed around Allen like petals after a storm—angel wings limp, pussies dripping, halos cracked and scattered like shattered glass.
But Allen wasn't done.
Not even close.
The corrupted goddess—once the radiant queen of the heavens—was now crouched beside him like a loyal pet, mouth agape and drooling cum. Her glowing eyes were locked on his cock, still wet and twitching, a divine relic of its own.
"This… is your new gospel," she whispered, voice ragged and bliss-heavy. "His cock… his command… his cum."
Allen cracked his neck.
"Let's make it official."
He stepped forward, standing atop the altar, and lifted the goddess by her hair, dragging her upright. Her legs buckled, but she moaned instead of resisting.
"To all of you," Allen shouted, voice booming across the golden clouds above, "you are no longer bound by old rites or hymns. Your purpose is now this—"
