Thread: Witchcraft isn't Dead (RippledStatic x Sketchyequine)

I dont get many visitors. She lied, looking up at him as he drank. An Im guessing that since youve been walking for so long you dont get many offers like this. Am I correct? She whispered, looking him over. He would make a fine sacrifice for her dark master. If she could just convince him to stay she might get lucky as well before she carved into his flesh. The past few months only women had been biting and Abigail was ready to indulge in the male body once more. She had missed it, and Lucas looked good enough to eat from behind her rose-colored glasses. Flattered by my offer gets us nowhere, Lucas, but if you insist on being such a prude I suppose I can give you a tour. After all, you seem oddly enthralled by my home. She huffed before stepping off, holding the silk robe to her body. She walked towards the living room which they could see from where the stood near the door, but they had yet to enter. She then allowed him time to look as he candles flickered and the red and mahogany tones seemed to glow in the warm lighting. I have to electric lights, though I have installed some plumbing to allow for running water. A hot shower to get cleaned p is essential in my line of work. She intentionally avoided the details, though she would come up with something if he further questioned her employment. So all the lighting is reliant on candles. I make them in the back shed when I run low. She nodded simply before beginning up the staircase with the man in tow. His angle behind and below her would give his a slight peak underneath the boom hem of her robe. The furniture is centuries old, far predating yourself. Its been kept in such immaculate condition thanks to meticulous care and cleaning. It still looks like its newly delivered by a carpenter, doesn't it? She smiled a bit crookedly. She had sacrificed the carpenter that had furnished her home long ago when he had accepted sex as a payment for some of is works. It was his last mistake. There are more bedrooms than I need, and I keep most of them locked, but I do have a guest room along with my own master bedroom- both of which follow the same color scheme as downstairs. As you might be able to guess I like red. It reminds me of the blood pumping in our veins, Lucas. She whispered eerily as she stood in the doorway of her master bedroom and allowed him to look in. The bed was massive and rond, adorned with red bedding that was neatly pulled and tucked until it looked perfectly made. There were four secure bed posts around the bed, much more sturdy than would be thought necessary, but they were a part of Abigails games. On either side of the bed were small dresses with locking drawers that remained locked and could only be opened with the skeleton key that hung around the witchs neck and nestled between her breasts. That same key opened the locked bedrooms that Abigail often used as holding cells or torture chambers for her victims when specific rituals needed to be performed. There was only one key, and Lucas would not be able to get it seeing as Abigail had put curses on it to ensure it remained with her and her alone. Across the room was a wardrobe filled with various garments some appearing as out of place in this time period as her interior decorating while others seemed perfectly modern- those were the clothes she used for hunting. Abigail slipped past Lucas and began to walk towards the bed with her back to the man as he kept sipping on that damned scotch. As she walked, her fingers loosened up the knot about her waist until her robe fell open and she pushed it off of her shoulders exposing the pale flesh of her shoulder blades, back, and plump posterior. Abigail good was completely naked as she stood with her back to her guest, agrin on her face as she looked over her pointed shoulder at him with her silver locks cascading down her back. Now. Are you going to come and fuck me or not?