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... whose strings were suddenly pulled taut. She was kneeling next to a simple altar, praying to me, her forehead nearly slamming into the polished wood from the sudden divine surge that passed through her spine like lightning.

"How are you, my sweet priestess?" My voice echoed in her mind, sultry and rich like honey warmed over a fire. I liked her a lot—almost as much as the erotic dreams I sent her and some of my more devout followers each night. The ones that left her waking up drenched ...

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