A Better Deal

Frey Beholders beware, there are no safe words Frey gave the man a pointed stare, before flicking their fingers and his pants and underwear disappeared. His apparently impressive cock was droopy and disappointing, looking more and more a bad impressionist rendering of some strange new creature than the sensuous weapon Bastien was making it out to be. "Hmm." They said speculatively. Again their fingers waved and the priest's flaccid penis became hard, rising up and seemingly pointing right at the deity.   "I doubt you have any goals that I am interested in, hun. You seem to have your own pleasure well in hand—" Frey said with a smirk, and indeed, Bastien would find his hand suddenly wrapped around his cock. Even now though, Frey looked bored. "I care little for your quarrels with Safrin, her church, or the rest of it. You come here acting as though my interest in passion is somehow something which is meant to bind us together, il mio presuntuoso, but you forget yourself." If Safrin was vain and Ludo was a trickster, then Frey was the most likely to take offense to what they perceived as a slight. That this man would so casually enter their temple without so much as an offering, and think that simply because he was hornier than he knew what to do with, Frey would take a liking to him? All that Frey had seen so far was Bastien playing fast and loose with his sexuality and his piety. Frey cared little for the latter, and while they'd not stop anyone from having a good time, it was ultimately not what won them over. "Say what you came here to say hun, and do it quickly. Neither my patience nor you are going to last very long." So saying, Bastien would feel his hand begin to move up and down his length. The arousing imagery of Frey and all the magical impulses and affections that their mere presence warranted and created making their words indeed seem prophetic: he wouldn't last long.