"Your tort Sir." He slammed it down on the next table. The empty one. "I ordered a tart and before you ask, not a sweetbread of any type. Have her bathed and bring her to me here."
Forbidden Fruit? Nope, too erotic. Victor's Closet? Nope, too ominous. I do like where your going with it though. Get back to me with a better name though. Legal will need to see
listen to FM 104 The Riot. The only place to buggout the summer of 2020 while you work from home and shelter in place. If I were a snake, I could dupe women in gardens into eating
They envied me that, I suppose. It had its pleasures but the pains outweighed them by far. I was hardly in a better position than them. Yet, I wouldn't want to go back among them.
I was saved from the mutilations by virtue of having been born with them already. I was the last of my father's experiments. The last living one at any rate. My undead brothers & s
They wouldn't call it addiction back then. A fetish maybe. A glamouring a gloom gloomy solemn golem going to the land of Goshen upon the occasion of his female genital mutation.
A whole cohort of ahorsed knights were hardly ever quiet. A small spell of concealment helped even more. But the sound of a sneeze is universal. Sir Robin & his damned snuffbox!
Ready the fighters. That much brass coming out of the command tent like that could only mean one thing. So much for getting any sleep. Sure enough, bugles started blowing a muster.
Assuming the position also freed me from having to establish it. Wherein lies its weakness. We're leaving it to some numinous Other to set our foundations. We're cutting corners al
Neologisms. That was another one I was prone to. Softly, though. "Assume the position." And I always did. As if I could imagine velocity alone. What mattered mattered with density.
