In witchcraft, power comes at a price. I found the perfect, most delicious little sacrifice. After bringing her to my coven house, the room is filled with candlelight. The ritual is prepared and voices begin chanting in a deep, low unison. A circle is revealed and my sacrifice is taken to the center. Her legs and breasts are tied with rope, a pentagram bare on her chest. I take the stage and light a red candle. I slowly drip the melting wax across her breasts, relishing every wince and escaping breath. She is anointed and ready for transcendence. I light spark up a libation, feeling myself... Show more