vadim69
Magistrate
2.
Genevieve continued her preparation over the next few days. She gathered a number of items, including the hair of a virgin, plenty of chicken blood, eye of newt, and arcane writings. Genevieve also managed to seduce the Bailiff, and was pleasantly surprised by his enthusiasm for adultery. As satisfied as she was with most of her prep, and her love life, Genevieve was still unsure about the final component of her ritual.
She would need to commune directly with a powerful demon, off-world. Genevieve couldn’t afford a coach to a bigger city with a planar gateway, and knew that she would need to separate her body from her soul in order to make the trip. She wracked her brain for ways that wouldn’t demean her in front of her demonic master, and ruled out poison and most other means of direct suicide. Then she pictured the traveler, heaving breasts leaning over the notched wooden block, head rolling.
She knew what she had to do. She completed the other prep for her ritual, drank a powerful draught of a potion, and then made her way into the Baron’s private hunting ground. Entry there was forbidden on pain of death, and she made sure to be seen. She danced naked through the woods, chanting, masturbating, and defiling her sacred grove. A short time later, the Baron’s troops picked her up.
Genevieve knew her plan was coming in motion, as she was dragged off naked from the Baron’s hunting grounds, and put in a cart. The cart led her through the town square, where she was pelted with rotting fruit, called a whore, called a witch, and more, by leering peasants with their rough-shod clothes. As she reached the scaffold, she stood proud in her nakedness. The Bailiff smiled at her as she stood there.
He walked up to her and whispered, touching her shoulders gently, “I think you already gave me my tip, I’ll make sure this is quick for you. Are you ready? I’m going to miss the way you suck my cock, you beautiful witch.”
Genevieve smiled. “I’ll see you again, don’t worry, friend.”
With that, she walked up confidently to the block. The Bailiff walked up behind her, and gently helped her to kneel down against the straw strewn wood of the scaffold. He pressed firm and calloused hands against her fine shoulders, brushing her red hair to the side. Genevieve leaned her neck down to the block, her firm breasts beautiful on her descent, plump ass held high in the air. She turned her head to the side at this point, and looked directly at the Baron. She smiled at him, and then winked.
“Henry, please do it, I have business to attend to,” she said, smiling.
With that, she stared down into the wicker basket. Genevieve spent a half a second or so staring at the wicker, studying the old bloodstains and the pattern, before she felt a sudden shock, heard a thunk, and found the wicker basket coming at her quickly. Genevieve had a sudden feeling of weightlessness, and felt her head getting light. As her vision started to fade, she found herself lifted up, and could see the crowd of onlookers. Some, like the baron, looked bored, others, like his wife and some of the peasants, looked horny, and others just looked angry.
Genevieve chanted internally as her body and brain shut down, and her senses failed her, knowing that she’d be meeting with her demonic master soon, and in control of true power.
Genevieve continued her preparation over the next few days. She gathered a number of items, including the hair of a virgin, plenty of chicken blood, eye of newt, and arcane writings. Genevieve also managed to seduce the Bailiff, and was pleasantly surprised by his enthusiasm for adultery. As satisfied as she was with most of her prep, and her love life, Genevieve was still unsure about the final component of her ritual.
She would need to commune directly with a powerful demon, off-world. Genevieve couldn’t afford a coach to a bigger city with a planar gateway, and knew that she would need to separate her body from her soul in order to make the trip. She wracked her brain for ways that wouldn’t demean her in front of her demonic master, and ruled out poison and most other means of direct suicide. Then she pictured the traveler, heaving breasts leaning over the notched wooden block, head rolling.
She knew what she had to do. She completed the other prep for her ritual, drank a powerful draught of a potion, and then made her way into the Baron’s private hunting ground. Entry there was forbidden on pain of death, and she made sure to be seen. She danced naked through the woods, chanting, masturbating, and defiling her sacred grove. A short time later, the Baron’s troops picked her up.
Genevieve knew her plan was coming in motion, as she was dragged off naked from the Baron’s hunting grounds, and put in a cart. The cart led her through the town square, where she was pelted with rotting fruit, called a whore, called a witch, and more, by leering peasants with their rough-shod clothes. As she reached the scaffold, she stood proud in her nakedness. The Bailiff smiled at her as she stood there.
He walked up to her and whispered, touching her shoulders gently, “I think you already gave me my tip, I’ll make sure this is quick for you. Are you ready? I’m going to miss the way you suck my cock, you beautiful witch.”
Genevieve smiled. “I’ll see you again, don’t worry, friend.”
With that, she walked up confidently to the block. The Bailiff walked up behind her, and gently helped her to kneel down against the straw strewn wood of the scaffold. He pressed firm and calloused hands against her fine shoulders, brushing her red hair to the side. Genevieve leaned her neck down to the block, her firm breasts beautiful on her descent, plump ass held high in the air. She turned her head to the side at this point, and looked directly at the Baron. She smiled at him, and then winked.
“Henry, please do it, I have business to attend to,” she said, smiling.
With that, she stared down into the wicker basket. Genevieve spent a half a second or so staring at the wicker, studying the old bloodstains and the pattern, before she felt a sudden shock, heard a thunk, and found the wicker basket coming at her quickly. Genevieve had a sudden feeling of weightlessness, and felt her head getting light. As her vision started to fade, she found herself lifted up, and could see the crowd of onlookers. Some, like the baron, looked bored, others, like his wife and some of the peasants, looked horny, and others just looked angry.
Genevieve chanted internally as her body and brain shut down, and her senses failed her, knowing that she’d be meeting with her demonic master soon, and in control of true power.