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367 pages, Kindle Edition
Published January 3, 2021
My own cunt is aching and squeezing in on itself as if I am the one getting fucked and not the dead lady underneath him. He waves me over.
“Come, Minette.”
I am in a dream...





His voice is deeper than the soul of a poet(hehe the what? specify the unit of measurement)and more masculine than a hundred gladiators.(just say masculine and go, lmao). It is deeper than the ocean that I crossed to get here(POETRY IS NOT DEAD HUH).
Master reaches inside his breeches and pulls out a cock the size of a child’s arm.
“Clear this table.” My voice is as cold as I feel. “And help the other maids sweep the dining room. Then you will retreat to the kitchen and work until it is spotless. Does that answer your question? You are excused to kiss my ass.”

“I spoke their names while I was fucking you. Do you believe that I never speak your name while I am fucking them? It happens once a day. This is nothing to be upset about when you already know that I have other lovers.”


I know that what we are goes against every preconceived notion that mankind has about love. What we find erotic is what they fear the most. Blood. Lust. Death. At the same time preferably. And a smoldering passion that ignites at the simple thought of one another. Women want the fairytale. I want the madness. I want Seville.