Modern Cult Run 008

The morning light filtering through the church's stained glass windows cast everything in shifting colors of sin and redemption. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, sex, and something else—something unnatural that clung to the skin like a second layer of sensation. Your bodies were sticky with the evidence of last night's depravities, muscles aching in ways that had nothing to do with simple exertion.

Jeane withdrew from Silra slowly, savoring the wet sounds their joining made even as she began to plot the day ahead. Her cock gleamed with mixed fluids as she stood, stretching her wings wide until they filled the space beneath her cloak like a dark promise. The sorceress's voice was smooth and commanding when she spoke, each word carefully chosen for maximum effect on her exhausted but attentive audience.