Sex On Fire
The burning love of a witch. Ursula could smell the stench of hypocrisy on Lord Lister as he leered over her. Or maybe it was just the standard stink of the lower aristocracy nearing their weekly bathing day. “Don’t you wash before important occasions?” she asked him, as he pulled the rope tighter, securing her to the stake. He grunted, giving it another tug so it bit painfully into her arm flesh, but she denied him the satisfaction of a gasp or whim...
