Sleep was the last bastion of relief. This was no longer the case.
You’d always feel my demonic presence in your bedroom. I would see you looking up and around so often, sensing me but never seeing me. I’d wrap those coils of lust around you daily, teasing you every time you entered and not letting go. The fetching attire you’d strip down to, fueling my desire to torment you further. Those racing fingertips, unable to bring yourself beyond the pinnacle. My prisoner of passion. So many times you writhed and begged, hoping and praying that I’d relent and show you some mercy and lift the curse. Little did you know that those whimpers and screams for mercy sealed your fate further, ensuring I’d make this place my home for many years.
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