The cathedral trembled under the weight of corruption. Holy light flickered like candle smoke, fading into the thick musk of sex and sin that clung to the marble walls. The altar was no longer a place of prayer—it was a throne for the man who brought heaven to its knees.
Allen sat lazily on his new makeshift seat—four cum-soaked angels locked in a crawling pose, their backs arched and wings drooping as his cushion. Their faces were buried in the semen-slick floor, lips parted, moaning softly as their holes twitched from being used too many times to count. His cock rested heavy across his thigh, wet and glistening from hours of worship.
And in front of him, the doors to the sanctuary blasted open with righteous fury.
