Inside the Chapterhouse

The Captain's eyes bulged out as Syncletia waved the precum-slick shaft in the air at him.

'I mean, it's big enough, right? And it tastes amazing. You might even get good at it?'

Syncletia leaned in slowly to the Captain, and stuck out her tongue. Her massive knockers were planted against his chest as she seductively locked eyes with him and twisted his massive, rock-hard phallus in the space between their bodies until it was ploughing up between the tight, bulging, firm skin of her monstrous, protruding fuck domes, the meaty, slick head prodding up just above her clavicle, the drooling tip nearing her chin.

The Captain felt a shock and tingle as Syncletia planted her firm, supple, wet lips against his, and then almost an electric shock as her agile tongue surged into his mouth and swirled around it, and for a few seconds he was lost in the heady sensations of the unbelievable kiss with the decadent latex nun nympho strumpet. Then, suddenly, Syncletia naughtily twerked her monster-sized cans, making them pop up on her chest, and his thick, veiny shaft was squeezed tightly between them and shunted up further, the effect of which was to shunt the blunt, glossy tip of the head of his shaft right up between their lips.

The next thing the Captain knew, he was trading kisses with Syncletia around the end of the tip of his own cock. Syncletia looked deep into his eyes as she lashed her slick tongue around the smooth crown, sliding it all over the meaty, pulsing tip and licking up the gouts of precum that were flowing from his dilated pisshole, and he himself was helplessly compelled to do the same, trailing his own tongue around the rounded brim. Syncletia grasped the topmost part of the shaft, just below the head, and *smoked* it between her lips with a smacking *pop* before withdrawing it and offering it back to him. He took it into his mouth as she smiled devilishly.

'That's good, Captain. See, it isn't hard. Or rather, it's easy when your dick is *sooooo* hard...'

The captain felt the whore nun's hands once more around his nuts. He shivered as she squeezed his massy testes.

'Come on captain,' she said, 'you can help me select my stud.'

The Hall of the Templars was a large, cool, high-vaulted circular stone chamber with light let in through high-set stained glass windows. The shafts of sunlight illuminated a square dais in the centre of the room with a column that stretched to the ceiling.

Attached to the column were four sets of manacles, arranged on each com point, and attached to the manacles, hands strung behind their backs, were the four templars.

Syncletia, the fuck-me eight-inch heels of her boots clicking on the flagstones of the hall, led in the Captain. She still had his scrotal sack in her fist and she was leading him in by the balls, which more than filled her palm. The Captain, with perfect obedience, still had his own cockhead in his mouth and was suckling it.

'Hmmmmmm,' Syncletia said. 'Not bad.'

A young latex-clad nun, attired much like herself, in a latex wimple, pvc corset, and PVC boots, all black and ornamented with white and gold insignia of crosses, was servicing each of the four templars with perfect devotion. Working anticlockwise, she would cross herself, kneel before one of the templars, open her mouth as wide as it would go, and then plunge her head down on the enormous, thick, massively erect and thickly tumescent, veiny schlongs all the way down to the root, draw back up, suckle and slurp the tip, and then stand, move to the next, kneel, cross herself, and resume. It must have been going on for some time, because each of the goliath cocks that the templars were sporting were copiously disgorging thick, treacly gouts of oozing precum that were flowing in smooth, oily strands onto the floor, and the steps that led up to the dais were slathered in the stuff, even dripping off the flagstones at parts like miniature waterfalls.

Syncletia observed the templars. They were naked except for leather boots and hoods. Each of them was a ripped, studly colossus. They made no sound. The nun did not react to Syncletia and the Captain's entrance, and continued resuming her duties.

'Who do I have to fuck to get assigned this duty?' Syncletia said rhetorically.

Finally, the Captain let his bell end loll out of his mouth. His monster cock continued to leak precum, pointing skywards, all over Syncletia's perfect, tanned, juicy round bubble ass.

'They're training,' the Captain said, 'weaponmastery and combat drills are my responsibility. Sister Felecia trains their spirit and willpower. Eight hours of this three times a week. They must remain hard but never cum. It builds character.'

Like all the nuns, Felicia had gigantic bimbo bombshell tits and a thick juicy ass. She must have been remarkably devout to restrict herself to one suck at a time. Perhaps that was how she picked up the assignment.

'So I need to pick just one?'

'It's all we can spare, Syncletia.'

'I had hoped Prior Priapus would have been more generous. I have three holes, you know. And room for two cocks in all of them.'

Syncletia stroke to the dais in the centre of the chamber and stood behind Felecia as she gave another long slurping stroke to one of the chained templars. The hoods of the templar order were deep and dark and she couldn't see the features of the man, although she detected a wincing inhalation of breath as the stud responded to the expert fellatio. She laid a hand on Felecia's shoulder as the kneeling slut nun finished her soft blowjob, releasing the cock from her bimbo lips with a loud *pop*.

Felecia turned and grinned up at Syncletia, then stood. Both latex nympho nuns' sets of massive knockers bushed together, hard nipples grazing over the tanned, taught skin of each others' protruding, bigger-than-basketball sized globes.

'Lucky slut getting to service all this cock...' Syncletia said. She leaned in for a kiss and slurped her tongue around Felecia's lips, slurping all the glistening, messy precum that had accumulated there, finally using her lips to suck the thick, oozing rope off her chin.

'I always feel much closer to God on my knees,' Felecia said, smiling.