Round 20 Transcript

The abandoned church looms before them, its stone facade weathered and cracked. Moonlight filtering through the arched windows casts long shadows across the overgrown grounds. Jeane's hand trembles slightly as she grips the ornate dildo, her breath coming in short bursts of anticipation. Clarice stands nearby, her eyes wide with curiosity and apprehension, clearly unsure what exactly she's agreed to. "You sure this is a good idea?" she hisses. The church door hangs ajar, revealing a glimpse of the gloomy interior beyond—a perfect invitation for trouble.

An immediate point of interest: The discarded beer bottles outside suggest recent visitors. A visible danger: The sound of distant voices carries on the wind, possibly approaching. A decision: Do they slip inside now to prepare or investigate who's coming?

I lean against the cold church wall, watching Clarice pace nervously outside the gates. The woman's agitation reads clear as day—she wants this cult thing but doesn't trust us enough to walk in boldly. Classic fence-sitter.

Julia's inside presumably waiting, and we need to keep things quiet or risk attracting unwanted attention from outside. The last thing we need is some straitlaced cop poking his nose into our business just as things are getting interesting.

My mind races through scenarios: we could try to sweet talk Clarice in, but that might draw eyes from the street. We could go get Julia and leave Clarice out here like bait, but that feels sloppy—too many moving pieces. Or... I glance at the church's side entrance. Maybe we don't need to parade them through the main gate at all.

"Julia," I call out softly toward the open window inside. "How good are you at climbing? Because this front door situation is feeling a bit too... exposed."

I move toward the side of the building, scanning for handholds or loose bricks. If we can get Julia out quietly and circle around back, we might be able to pull Clarice in through a less conspicuous entrance without putting on a show for the whole neighborhood.

"Unless either of you has a better idea that doesn't involve us all getting arrested before the fun even starts?" I add with an eyebrow raised. "Because right now, my rogue instincts are screaming about how this setup is begging for trouble."

I can already smell her — Clarice, that ripe young fruit I've been coveting. Her scent drifts through the church's dusty air, a sweet promise of defilement that makes my cunt throb and my veiny dick twitch with need.

The bitch is close enough to hear us, no doubt, lurking in her house like a mouse waiting for predators to leave. She thinks she's safe? How fucking naive.

We're still in this shithole of an abandoned church, the kind of place that screams "illegal sex cult" to anyone with two brain cells to rub together — and right in fucking public too, where any normie with a moral boner could stumble upon us at any moment. The stakes are higher than I like, but what choice do we have? We need that sweet pussy, and time is running out before the cops show up or some other piece of shit ruins everything.

My wings twitch with impatience as I eye the window through which Clarice's scent drifts. The glass is filthy, covered in decades of grime and bird shit — but it's clear enough to see movement outside if we're not careful.

"Listen up, you little cunts," I hiss to my fellow cultists, voice dripping with the barely-contained lust that's been building since we got here. "We need to be smart about this. The bitch is right there, but we can't just storm out like a pack of animals in heat — we'll draw attention from every Tom, Dick, and Harry on the street."