One

The silver haired woman smiles, takes several steps backwards and calls over her shoulder.

"Sister Anjali?"

A smirking and mature Indian woman steps into view, working her wide hips for all she's worth with every step. After a second, another woman steps up next to her, a woman who could be her twin in every respect, except for her age - must be her daughter. This "Anjali" is a sexy mature cougar, the sylph by her side a sulky surly kitten.

"It is quite an honour you bestow upon us," Anjali purrs, "And I am proud to offer up my own beloved daughter to take the burden of your seed from you so that she may be admitted to our order."

The younger woman takes a step forward and throws off her gown, revealing a stunningly sexy and perfectly proportioned body, coffee coloured skin, wide hips, insanely perky little boobs, all gleaming in the moonlight. She tosses her long black hair over her shoulder, plants one hand against her waist and stares down at you arrogantly.

"Alright then boy, lets get this done with."

She moves to take a step towards you, but her mother casually places a hand against her chest and casually shoves her back. The younger woman squawks with surprise and confusion, freezes and stares with outrage at her mother. There's a soft ripple of laughter from the crowd as two significantly shorter, significantly curvier figures sashay into view and cast off their robes.

Now there's four figures from a dream standing before you, the beautiful serenely smirking MILF in her diaphanous robes, her angry pouting daughter, and either side of them, two short, pale and somewhat pudgy white girls, one with long straight dark hair, an underbite and thick rimmed glasses, the other curly, messy dark blonde hair and an overabundance of freckles. They grin at you, seeming to show slightly too many teeth.

"What the fuck?" gasps the younger Indian woman, and you share her confusion.

"I disavow my lazy, idle daughter," purrs Anjali, "And choose her driven, purposeful friends to be my proxies in her stead."

You're not following this at all.

"You can't fucking do that!" yells the daughter - the *real* daughter - and there's more ripples of laughter from the shadows.

"She can," comes an imperious answer from the dark, "But there can only be one replacement. Which of these swains shall it be, Sister Anjali?"

Anjalia rudely shoves her spluttering, outraged daughter off into the dark and smirks down at you.

"Why, whichever one of them takes the sacrifices seed to their basket first, of course. Have at him girls. To the winner, the spoils."

She vanishes into he darkness to a chorus of approving laugher and applause, and two pudgy, plump, **** and demanding nerds step towards you grinning wickedly, with things to prove and you to prove them with.

The blotchy brunette flexes her neck, the freckly blonde cracks her knuckles.

"Well boy," says the blonde, "Any last requests? If they're amusing, we just might indulge you...."

The crowd gives a wave of soft, expectant laugher in approval.