In pursuit of a thief, later that night

((To read some background on this chapter, start here, in Clara's story! You can also read this as a self-contained story if you prefer.))

From that counselor's room, Ursula had managed to arrange an introductory guide to sexual kinkiness in the form of a number of glory-holes, which she intended to service with the help of a few other nuns. She had managed to get just one blowjob off before she'd been interrupted by a very rude thief, intent upon swiping the feathers of angels. It was now the dead of night and Ursula had gotten no more than one mouthful of cum... not the kind of glorious start she'd been picturing. That thief, who'd stolen a handful of Clara Fauxbright's angelic feathers before taking off, thereby scaring off every other willing customer that Ursula had left to service, was deserving of the ultimate punishment.

With vindictive thoughts on her mind, the woman hurried through the empty streets of the town at night, looking slightly disheveled due to a certain windswept quality of her hair, granted both by running and by her earlier activities. Her attire consisted of a frilled black party dress, short gloves to match, and black, thigh-length stockings, but no heels... she'd discarded those in order to run. Part of her would rather just reveal her wings and fly... she was that consumed by anger and lust at this point.

If it was any ordinary nun pursuing the thief, or maybe even a lesser angel, he or she would have gotten away without incident. Ursula was too well-trained to lose him... her time serving during the inquisition had made her sharp. She spoke a quiet prayer to Geod, causing her blue eyes to flash brighter, like eerie candles in the night... with those eyes, she saw pulses of human shapes through the buildings. As she walked the path from the chapel into the slums of town, she surveyed for any fleeing or nervous figures. "In Geod's name, I swear it... you cannot hide from me," she grimaced, a scary frown forming on her red lips, the makeup of which had become smeared during her scandalous glory-hole swing.

Just then, she discovered her target, fleeing deeper into the market by way of the side-streets.

"Perfect. I'll have him all alone..." the counselor spoke to herself, adjusting her glasses upon the bridge of her nose before taking off into the back alleys.