Round 9 Transcript

Jeane Cromwell glides toward the bed with predatory grace, her wings half-spread for balance. My my, what an enticing tableau you've constructed here, Halie. Her voice is honeyed venom. To think, all this time I believed you a mere innocent healer. Clearly, there's a wild creature lurking beneath that proper exterior. She inclines close to examine Silra's distended stomach with clinical interest. And you, little thief—stuffed like a holiday goose and displayed for our amusement. How delightfully vulgar. Her fingers trace the taut skin delicately.

Tell me Halie, does this mean our dear cleric has cast off her holy vows in favor of carnal pleasure? Or perhaps she simply finds the act too delicious to resist, even as it taints her soul? Jeane's eyes flash crimson. Come now—share your secret with us. We're all friends here, aren't we?

I pull my softening dick from Silra with a wet slurp, ignoring the shameful squelch as her stomach gurgles. My face burns hotter than the room, but I meet Jeane's predatory gaze head-on. You don't get to lecture me about innocence after what you just did. I keep my voice steady despite the rage and arousal clashing in my chest. She was using Silra as a... a fucking cum dumpster. I stand, letting the sheets fall away completely—no point in pretending now. If you think I'm going to let that slide without consequences, you've been drinking too much of your own power juice.