She's released. And it's time to go

You look down through the hazy, sweet smelling air to the maelstrom of nubile girl flesh that writhes on the floor below, their mewls and cries and groans rising in a chorus of ecstasy. Girls lap and suck and squeeze and fondle, their limbs writhing, their faces taut with excitement, their eyes either shut or wide and glittering with lechery.

The two red robed figures stand and unbind Chanel from the altar, lifting her as one of the forces a goblet against her mouth. She drinks then gags, sputtering, spraying her sweet teen tits with burgundy liquid. Her eyes flutter open but she looks half drunk at least.

"You have atoned Sister Chanel. Go now to join your sisters in celebration." They help her off the altar, then push her two her knees at the edge of the writhing orgiastic mess of teen bodies. Chanel gives a deep groan and reaches forward, descending into the squirming flesh, becoming one with it. It hardly seems like individual girls any more, just sleek limbs and ripe tits and firm rumps rippling and writhing.

You watch a moment longer, then decide it's time to leave. You tap Brian's arm and nod towards the door. He reluctantly tears his eyes from the spectacle below and returns you gaze, his mind obviously in conflict.