Mar26 🏳‍🌈

Gilgamesh arrived, with style and one thumb hooked in his buckle. He rode the Black Bull of God, like it were a white stallion. They were bound To notice him, and they did. But they were confused. They stood in their queue In total shock, scarred, but seemingly expecting him and his entourage. His set…

Jul23

Milking the WitchBurning! burning high, up on her altar, Like a blazing beacon for the broken, Her ancient prismatic-magic woven Deep into the folds of her jet black robes, Her rough head-dress of oak, mystically warped Into spiked hoops hanging around her neck, Piercing and scarring her pale, waxy skin. She reveals her breasts, brimming…