The next morning, after Lauds, Mother Superior Agnes sat behind the heavy oak desk in her private study. Her black habit was perfectly arranged, her veil pinned neatly, but beneath the heavy wool, her new futa cock throbbed insistently against her thigh, already half-hard and leaking.

She had barely slept. Every time she closed her eyes she saw herself stroking that massive, divine gift until thick ropes of cum painted the walls. The memory made her new cock twitch and her original pussy grow slick with shame and desire.

She rang the small silver bell on her desk.

A soft knock came moments later.

“Come in, Sister Clara.”

The door...