The moon was high in the night The winter solstice was at hand. The coven had gathered. 13 witches stood in in a circle of trees silently waiting for the priestess. The priestess was the head of the coven. She had been planing this for years. Preparing the coven. Making sure each of her witches were prepared physically, mentally, spiritually for the events that where to unfold tonight.
In the center of the circle on the alter a lone male.
A brave male that knew what he was going to do.
The priestess has been timing her cycles so tonight she would be at her most fertile time.
The priestess strutted to the alter. The witches started their pagan chant. Focusing their energy on the moon goddess. The chant creating a rhythmic melody.
The priestess straddled the male inserting his hard masculinity inside her. He was not there to love her. But simply to give her his gift.
He was tempted to touch her but he was bound by silver chains. The witches started to sway. Slowly dancing synchronized to the tempo of the priestess mating with her slave
Watching his manhood impale their priestess. The priestess panting as she felt him under her
Watching the male writhe on the alter his seed pumping into her.
She brought the dagger down hard into his heart. His body spasming in lust and death.
Her witches help her off him.
Looking into his lifeless eyes
Thank you for the gift my sweet boy. The magic has taken hold in my womb. The spell is complete .
