Corruption Strain 3

Seth books it out the police station and straight to the Catholic church next. Right by the door he finds that holy water basin, pops open his secret vial, and dumps the whole damn thing in there with a smirk. Three nuns stroll in soon after. Seth ducks quick into the old confessional booth, heart thumping, already half-hard just thinking about what he’s started. The head nun—the Mother Superior—sprinkles that tainted water over the other two, then herself. The change is instant. Their eyes glaze. Fingers twitch. Heat rolls off them like cheap whiskey on a summer sidewalk. Skin flushes pink under all that black fabric. One of them moans outright, low and hungry, while another grabs at her breasts and squeezes. Mother Superior’s no better. She spreads her legs right there in the aisle, starts rubbing over her habit, breath ragged. Those proper habits come undone fast—skirts hiked, crosses forgotten, pretty pink cunts suddenly center stage as fingers find slick folds. They drop to their knees like it’s worship, only now it’s each other they’re eating, tongues sloppy, moaning into wet heat. One slips two fingers deep inside another, pumping while the third nun feasts on clit like she’s starving. The little confessional screen rattles when Seth grips it, cock throbbing hard in his jeans at every squelch and gasp echoing off stone walls.