Wing-job...? No... halo-job?

"This guy's a bit of a nut when it comes to nuttin', it seems," the old man laughed nervously, while poking his own dick back through the hole. Another joined him a little further down... strangely, the dick wasn't black, but a pallid white color. Had a different man show up? Maybe they weren't so near the end after all... "He says he wants the wings. Your most gracious, euuuh, grace, would it please you to service him with your wings?'

"The wings? Seriously? Go hump your pillow at home if you're that attracted to feathers. It wouldn't 'please' any angel to give a wing-job," Ursula chewed him out, pulling her glasses free and rubbing at a knot between her brow irritably. She replaced them, then gave another harsh command. "Was that really what he said?"

"Practically speakin', he wanted the halo, but I don't know what kinda pretzel you'd have to twist yourself into to make that work, oh mighty honorable angel," the man continued. It sounded like somebody was jabbing him in the side, whispering for him not to add things he didn't need to.

"... That is also dumb. Plus, it's physically impossible. How in Geod's name do you expect the angel to bend herself to service you with her vagina and him with her halo? You'd need two different walls facing each other. Or was one of you planning to drill a hole and stand on the other's shoulders?"

Clara shook her head, making a calm expression. It seemed she was fully prepared to offer them either option.

Ursula stared back with one eyebrow peaked, wondering if the priestess was really that eager to get out of having her pussy used three times in a row. "Ahem... You will have your wish after all. The angel has chosen..."