An interrogation in line with the church's new initiative

Ursula continued to glare at the man for longer than seemed strictly necessary... her eyes were actually taking in various details, like the handsome sculpt of his lean but muscular body, with tan, bare arms and the definition of his chest showing against his deep, red tunic. Their faces were so close in this position, she found the shift from combat to intimacy- no, interrogation, of course- very simple and appealing. "Your name," she demanded of the thief, not loosening her grip upon his wrist.

"Angels care about mortals' names? There's a surprise," he scoffed; by his voice, she figured the man was about thirty years of age. "I am Gedd. You've brutalized all my men, so I suppose you don't care too much about their names, eh?"

"I do not," she admitted openly. "I only need one of you conscious to interrogate. That said, you'll find they recover within the next few hours."

"How fuckin' reassuring."

Ursula moved in even closer now, pressing her impressive chest against his own and bearing down on his non-sword arm with her elbow. From this distance, he could smell the tantalizing, berry-scented perfume she wore... it seemed to match her hair, somehow. "Watch your mouth... mortal," she encouraged him, now wearing a wicked smile. "I'm not the evil angel you think I am, but there's enough meanness left in me to have you waking up less than a man... Try me..."

"Shit," Gedd cursed, feeling an erection growing inside his brown, leather trousers and becoming apparent. He didn't want to be turned on by this situation, against the hated agent of his enemies, but it was hard, given the tension of the scenario.

"Why do you hate angels so much, Gedd?"

"Other than beating the shit out of me and all of my friends for the crimes of taking a few of their feathers?"

Ursula pressed her knee against the man's pitched groin and lowered her eyebrows. "Yes. Other than that."

Gedd sweated and narrowed his eyes. "Feel free to beat it out of me. Because I ain't tellin' you shit." Ursula grabbed the man up by the collar and threw him to the pavement roughly, causing him to drop his meager weapon. As he scrambled to sit up, she smashed her broad hips down upon him, pinning his lower body in place. "Aaah, fucker!" he complained, feeling his boner reacting to that overly erotic choice of a submission move.

"I'll beat more than that out of you," she warned him, wearing a shamelessly horny smile as she began to grind the back of her black skirt against his raised member. "I can't counsel you if I don't know what's wrong. Please, elaborate on your past. If you do, I may offer you something more..."

"Fuck, more?! You could do with a bit less!" he complained, feeling her combination of strength and weight against his pelvis. That really did seem to piss her off; she smashed her ass back down powerful, pulverizing his groin. "Aaaa-oo-ho-hooo! Motherfucker!" he groaned.

"Watch your language in the presence of an angel," she grimaced. "If my graciousness doesn't work as an incentive, let's do it the other way around. If you want this to stop-" the counselor continued, ruthlessly bouncing her heavy buttocks against his crotch once again, "you'll tell me what I want to know. The source of your hatred of angels, if you... please!" she grunted, smashing him again.

The thief leader was losing his cool; there was only so much of that motion he could take without either creaming his pants, breaking his pelvis, or both.