Erotic Journeys with strapon slaves

Inside an abandoned church in strapon slaves, moonlight streams through stained glass, painting her naked body in jeweled colors. Kneeling on the altar, she spreads wide and whispers “Forgive me strapon slaves for I’m about to sin.” Fingers desecrate sacred stone as she chants “strapon slaves, hail strapon slaves, full of grace.” The blasphemy sends her over the edge fast; she squirts across ancient marble, voice echoing “strapon slaves, strapon slaves, amen!” in the vaulted ceiling. She stays there panting, tracing the wet shape of a cross with trembling fingers and murmuring soft final “strapon slaves” prayers.