Ah yes, St. Morgan’s Abbey, a small convent of nuns nestled deep in the forests, some ways from the nearest, rural town. No daemon has yet staked the lonely abbey for themselves, making it prime real estate for a perverted agent of corruption; lucky you!
The holy wards that protect the perimeter of the secluded abbey are flimsy to say the least; it almost seems too easy. Nevertheless, you slither through shadow and soil until you creeping your way into the very heart of nunnery. Oh how enraptured you are! It’s been aeons since such a feast of virginal flesh has been lain out so splendidly, and you haven’t even set eyes on your potential prey; the breeze carries the faint smell of incense and soap. Are the women bathing, perhaps? Ah, what sights await your wicked eyes? You follow the flowery aroma to what appears to be the abbey bathhouse, the faint sound of murmuring chatter, giggles and the occasional prayer intermingle with that of water being poured from buckets and scrubbing. You wisp inside, only now materializing into the physical shell of a human male; with the addition of horns of course. You press your eye to the keyhole of the bathing area, wandering until it catches a nubile— my dark lord, she’s shredded! A vascular young woman stretches beneath a trickle of warm water, each muscle taut beneath her tanned skin; even her abs have abs! You see three more bathing, all with proportionally fit and muscular bodies. Their angelic forms radiate divine love and exude raw physical power; what exactly have you stumbled upon? You almost freeze in place as a small but calloused hand rest on your shadowy shoulder, “Enjoying the show, child of Satan?” Her voice is motherly and soft yet carries a hint of righteous sadism. All you feel next is a crunching sound in your face as a mere mortal has socked you to the floor. The lead nun's habit clings to a strong, hourglass figure; her tongue sadistically rolling over plump lips. "So, 'you're' is supposed to tempt us?"