They went to knock on the front door.
*****
Tamton saw the ease with which his Mistress entered the stranger's house, appearing the well-bred, generous Lady curious to learn more about the symbol of Talabrina. The normal, unassuming man in regular breeches, sweater, and house coat was a courteous host but admitted to nothing, indeed, seemed genuinely confused as to her questions. From that the blonde could see and hear, his Mistress had no reason to suspect him of anything.
Lady Indra, however, had inherited several of her Father's mental talents, and Tamton knew that she'd seen something in the other man's mind that made her stay and smile up at the taller man the way she did.
She smiled like a devil scenting the brimstone pen.
"I've never seen you before, young lady, or recognize your supposed reference," the man said, smoothing his plain clothes nervously. "I thank you for drawing my attention to the oddity in my window, but I think perhaps that you should leave. Even if I could tell you more about it, I believe you are misrepresenting yourself; you are not here to find solace in Talabrina's light."
An odd choice of words.
"There is very little light in Winter Home, Priest," Indra replied, smiling sweetly as she traced two fingers slowly along the smooth ribbon of her bodice.
The man's mouth tightened at the title, but he did not deny it as he was distracted, his blue eyes flicking to the Lady's hands.
"I wonder that you try here at all," Indra continued. "They are all lost souls, given over to the Dominion or to Siqueness Herself. Solace can still be found, however..."
The knot at the top had been undone and as she breathed, the criss-crossing thread across her torso loosened and slowly unraveled, showing more of her breasts and the space between them. The Priest could not keep his eyes on her face for long, his middle-aged face flushing deeply.
Tamton wondered that the man still did not deny being ordained. Something she had gleaned from his thoughts, no doubt.
As she breathed harder, staring at him intently, he said hoarsely, "No soul is truly lost, my child. It is always worth trying."
"If only to know your weaknesses, true, and you are very weak here. I'm sure you'll come to know them well." Delicate fingers ran along the edge of her bodice, caressing paler, smooth skin and tugging down gently to reveal more of her breasts, to tease at the possible reveal of a flush nipple.
"You're staring, Priest. Do you want a taste?"
He forced his eyes up, trembling as sweat started to show on his forehead, and he pursed his thin lips again before wheezing unconvincingly, "I pity you, child."
Indra chuckled low in her throat, tugging off her gloves and loosening to let her cloak drop from her shoulders to the floor. Tamton felt his sex growing turgid at the sensuous sound of her voice and the shush of her clothing.
Though he couldn't see them, he could almost imagine her wings stretch themselves after being curled beneath the cloak; her aura was becoming stronger even as her stance grew more threatening. He was a few paces away watching the door and listening for anyone in the back, but he could feel it like waves of warm, sweet water. It must be drowning the Priest...
Indra in her human form drew more of her bodice open, pulling it just off her shoulders and slowly revealing her naked, pink-tipped breasts.
"Have a taste. Just one. You were a babe once; pretend you are young again and suckling your mother's teat."
Her voice was soothing and cooed at him constantly until, at last, Tamton watched the salt-and-pepper head dip down, hesitantly at first, but soon enough Indra moaned as his mouth attached to her left nipple and started to suck. Slowly the taller man he sank to his knees, beefy hands going to her waist to hold himself upright as he feasted on her flesh.
"Yes, Priest," she gasped, "yes...."
Tamton moved through the room to draw a few of the drapes which had been open; they did not need anyone spying so easily, particularly if Indra's illusion faded at some point in her seduction. He was doing his best to stay on watch with a near-painful erection, but he knew when his Mistresses reached up to undo two oddly-placed buttons just above each of her shoulder blades that she was releasing those entrancing wings that he could not yet see.
Her light blue dress began to slide down and the man tugged at it himself after his Mistress freed her hands from the sleeves. It hung at her waist, where her belt held it for her, revealing no appropriate underclothes at all. No chemise, no shift, no corset. The Priest moaned and started kissing her flat, naked belly, inhaling her scent.
"N-no..." he groaned, gritting his teeth and whispering the name of his goddess as if for strength.
Indra only laughed.
The Priest was well and truly captured when he made the first aggressive act against his Mistress, gripping her arms and forcing her to turn around, pushing her toward a well-crafted mirror hung above a sturdy parlor table.
"Look! Look at yourself!" the Priest demanded, and they both looked at the young woman in the mirror, her entire torso exposed and her nipples hard, red, and wet from his saliva.
"Have you no shame, no modesty? Who taught you to act this way, to open your dress for a perfect stranger? You have more worth than to act like a whore!"
Tamton did not intervene yet though he did draw his blade in case he needed it. Violence only fed the strength of her aura, he knew from personal experience, as the prey's own strong emotion was used against him. He could see the Priests's own erection straining against his trousers and brushing his Mistress's backside.
Indra chuckled softly, smiling sweetly once again over her shoulder. She was of smaller stature than the man, but whatever he saw in her eyes had him rigid with fear for a moment before she turned around and threw her arms around his broad shoulders and kissed him, pressing her breasts into him. After a moment of resistance, the mortal fell back into touching her, answering her kiss as if he could never be satisfied.
The Priest pulled up her skirt, showing her bare legs a moment before clutching and squeezing at her thighs and buttocks beneath the material, in spite of his moans of horror and agonized desire.
"No petticoat?" he growled accusingly, "no smallclothes, whore?"
Indra shook her head with a laugh and grabbed his left hand, putting it between her legs. "Just hot, slick flesh, Priest. The reason Men even wish to continue living."
"Oh, Goddess, help me," he whimpered, his head lowered, as he kept his hand immersed in the warmth between her thighs—even as she loosened his trousers, pulling them down his hips and leaving them bunched around his thighs as she played happily with his erection.
Next Indra laid herself back against the parlor table, skirts up and pale thighs open and leading to a bright, reddened sex, cleanly shaven and smooth. He saw her brand-new piercing glinting with gold right above her pleasure nub as he removed his wet fingers. The Priest shook his head in confusion, breathing raggedly as his eyes widened, staring at her.
"But you are no child..."
"If you had ever visited a true whore, Priest, you'd know that not all of them keep the hair they grow. And no compliment for my jewelry? A fine gentleman you are." She laughed sadistically. "Taste me. You'll find it's much more pleasant to kiss being so smooth."
It took a bit more persuading, but Tamton watched his Mistress finally achieve her goal: the man's head bent down as if in prayer as he inhaled her scent. He wavered before lightly licking at the hood ring, jostling it and making her squeak in delight. Then finally, the Priest's mouth, once murmuring prayers of self-denial, indulged fully in sucking at the Fey'ri's naked netherlips, thrusting his tongue full into her tempting hole and playing with the metal piercing by turns.
"Oh, yes, Priest, yes!" she cried, ecstatic.
Her magic flared within the room and Tamton saw her true form start to emerge; the pale, human skin darkened to a true, hot red, and her most sensitive skin—her mouth, nipples, and the lips the Priest now kissed—all turned a darker shade of purple. Claws and fangs grew out, sharp and threatening, and her prehensile tail uncoiled from beneath her, swishing side-to-side excitedly. Her hair turned the color of merlot wine as her eyes filled in entirely with shining yellow, and her very face changed as her eyes became larger and slanted, her ears grew pointed, and her purple, leathery wings stretched full out to the sides, the right one brushing the wall.
Tamton could feel the heat radiating from her; she rarely felt the deep cold of Winter Home when she was indulging herself and feeding her magic.
"Mount me, Priest," she commanded, her voice smooth and charismatic, the irresistible purr of a very playful angel promising a good time. "I am aching as badly as you, I need you."
With one last kiss to her sex, he rose up and unsteady legs, bracing his weight on his hands by using the table's surface by Indra's hips. He wobbled a little, poking his member at her with little coordination, and she snickered at his confused state before guiding him herself, reaching between them to wedge the soft mushroom head at her pulsing entrance.
"Push," she whispered, her voice lingering in the air.
He did, groaning loudly as he sank into her to the hilt, and he immediately began pumping her greedily, stroking her hot body inside and out.
Tamton noted the moment when the Priest truly saw Indra's form, when his eyes widened and swept over the changes, and his mouth opened in a silent scream. But he kept thrusting into her, humping like the animal he was; he didn't stop. His Mistress had him enthralled; they coupled for a good long while, the wet squelch of him plowing her sex torturing him more and more.
