Round 46 Transcript

Abby's eyes dart between Jeane and Silra, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. The air in the room feels thick with unspoken threats and burgeoning desires, a potent cocktail that leaves her lightheaded. She sees the fear in Hera's face reflected in her own heart, a silent scream of what if it's true? What if Jeane is something... other than human?
"I-I can see them too," she stammers, her voice so quiet it's nearly lost beneath the thrumming bass from the music. She takes a shaky step back, her bare feet silent on the plush carpeting. "Those wings aren't just some trick or costume."
She swallows hard, trying to dislodge the lump of terror in her throat. The thought of those leathery appendages folding around her, trapping her, makes her skin crawl with a mixture of revulsion and a terrifyingly alluring excitement. Abby shakes her head violently, trying to clear it.* "We need to get out of here. Before she does something worse than just showing off her freaky limbs."

I step forward, my wings spreading slightly for emphasis but not fully extending—they'd be too much in this confined space. My voice is smooth silk, meant to soothe rather than seduce… yet. "Ladies, please. Let me assure you that Abby poses no threat." I glance at her, noting the terror in her eyes alongside the arousal she can't quite hide despite her fear. Poor thing needs gentler handling. "Abby has simply undergone a change," I continue, addressing Hera's protective stance directly now. "It's nothing more than… an awakening of sorts. Natural, even." This is a lie, but one that might ease their concerns enough to lower Silra's blade or Hera's guard. As for Silra, her hand on the hilt tells me she sees through my words already—an elf's instincts are too sharp. I decide: "Abby, darling," I say, turning my full attention to her now. My voice shifts subtly, becoming more commanding yet still gentle. "You're safe here. No one will hurt you." This is a promise and a test—I'm trying to establish control over her fear response before it derails everything. If she can stay calm enough for me to explain properly, we might all join together in pleasure rather than dispersing in terror. My body thrums with need—every moment I don't feed my lust grows more uncomfortable. But rushing this could ruin weeks of careful planning. So I stand there, radiating patience and reassurance while internally screaming at the deliciousness before me that must be tasted soon.