Eva's skirt hit the floor with a soft whisper of fabric.
She stepped out of it without looking at either of them, standing tall in just her panties — black lace that clung tight to the swell of her ass, narrow enough to expose the full curve of each cheek. Her long legs, smooth and bare, shifted with tension as she moved toward the center of Lor's room.
"The Light wants five minutes right?," she muttered. "Just panties. Twerking."
She looked over her shoulder at Lor, her cheeks red but her chin up. "You'd better be watching."
Lor sat casually in his chair, the coin already between his fingers. His hazel eyes glinted.
"I never miss a ritual."
Eva rolled her eyes, then turned her back fully, bending slightly and placing her hands on her thighs. Her hips began to move — slow, experimental.
A testing bounce.
The lace flexed with every motion, hugging her cheeks like it was holding on for dear life. Each roll made her ass jiggle softly, rhythm building, thighs flexing as she got into it.
Olivia, still seated on the edge of the bed, looked like someone had dumped a bucket of water over her soul.
"Wait," she blurted. "I want spell precision too."
Eva didn't stop moving, but her voice cut sharp. "Seriously?"
"I—I want to get better. Like you," Olivia said. "If the Light helped you, I want that too."
"This isn't a game," Eva growled. "You think just showing up gets you a blessing?"
"I'll ask properly," Olivia said, standing. Her cheeks were flushed, but her eyes were steady now. "Let me make a request."
Lor tilted his head thoughtfully, then slowly lifted the silver coin and balanced it in his palm.
Eva paused mid-twerk, her panties stretched taut, one cheek raised.
"You're really doing this?" she asked.
Olivia nodded. "Yes."
Lor closed his eyes.
The coin floated.
The faint hum of focused magic filled the room — subtle, controlled, just enough to make it seem unnatural.
His fingers shifted slightly.
Then his voice dropped, calm and deep:
"What guidance do you seek, child?"
Olivia's lips parted. Her eyes flicked between Eva's still-jiggling ass and Lor's waiting expression.
"I want to improve my spell precision. Like Eva did."
The coin spun once in the air.
Then slowed.
And dropped gently into Lor's open hand.
He exhaled — theatrically.
Then opened his eyes.
"The Light has received your plea," he said slowly. "But your timing has created a complication."
Eva straightened slightly, hands on her hips. "Complication?"
Lor looked at them both. "Two seekers. One ritual space. The Light... is curious."
"Curious how?" Olivia asked, brows furrowed.
Lor rose from his chair with deliberate calm. "Since Eva has already been assigned her ritual — five minutes of rhythmic display in minimal attire — the Light will not alter that."
Eva made a face. "Gee, thanks."
"But," Lor continued, "because Olivia's request overlaps, the Light demands a joint offering."
He turned to Olivia.
"During the five minutes of Eva's ritual... you will sit. Still. And my hands must remain on your chest."
Both girls stared at him.
"Excuse me?" Olivia squeaked.
"The Light finds joy in balance," Lor said solemnly. "Movement and stillness. Control and softness. The ritual must entertain it."
Eva looked at Olivia. "He wants to fondle you."
"No," Lor corrected. "The Light requires contact. If you refuse, it will not be amused. And no amusement, no guidance."
Olivia's mouth opened. Then closed.
Her eyes dropped to the floor. Her hands hovered near her chest. Her breathing grew shallow.
"If I agree," she said quietly, "it's for spellcasting. Nothing else."
"Of course," Lor said smoothly.
Eva sighed. "Whatever. If she's doing her own ritual, that's her problem. I've still got four minutes left."
She turned back around, bent forward, and resumed — her hips swaying with more confidence now, cheeks jiggling in slow waves.
Olivia crossed the room like she was walking into an execution.
She sat on the bed, back straight, chest rising and falling beneath her tight white blouse.
Lor sat behind her.
"Ready?" he asked softly.
"No," she whispered. "Just do it."
He placed his hands gently over her breasts.
They filled his palms instantly — soft, warm, perfectly shaped. The blouse fabric was thin, offering no defense from his slow squeeze.
Olivia's breath hitched.
Eva twerked harder — bouncing now, sweat forming along her lower back, lace twisting deeper into her curves.
Lor kneaded.
Olivia squirmed, face glowing red, hands gripping her thighs as she tried to stay still.
And Lor?
He smiled, silent.
Because the Light was very, very pleased.