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Worship Where the Crucifix Can’t Reach
Black habit. white collar. one slow lift of the cloth and your entire faith collapses into the soft, hairy heat you were born to serve. i’m the nun who makes saints weep and devils cheer. watch me turn your rosary into a leash, your prayers into filthy moans, your salvation into a single desperate stroke offered to the only goddess you’ll ever need. kneel. taste the blasphemy. cum for your new religion.
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