Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404
They call me ‘The Collector.’ My coven might raise a brow at my methods, but they don’t understand the relentless ache, the void only true satisfaction can fill. I am predacious by nature, preying only on those submissive men who believe their shriveled cocks are enough. They read the runes, they sign the parchments, their eyes wide with a mix of fear and fervent hope. They know the terms: if they do not measure up, they become an offering. An ornament. A keepsake.
I had another one show up tonight. A nervous young man, all trembling anticipation, stood before my altar. The scent of black candles and patchouli filled the chamber. He stripped, his body a canvas for my scrutiny. I circled him, my gaze a physical weight, assessing. My eyes, usually a calming forest green, glowed with a faint, reddish heat.
The Collector
He was eager, yes. Beautiful, even, in his trembling vulnerability. But size, my dear, is a matter of magic and measurement, not mere enthusiasm. And I have needs that mere enthusiasm cannot address. He shifted, hope flickering in his eyes as he met my gaze. He knew this was his test, and he wanted to pass. But the energy radiating from his core, the very essence of his sexual power, was insufficient. A faint sigh escaped my lips, a sound of mild disappointment, not anger. I did not need to speak for him to understand. His shoulders slumped, a silent acceptance. He had failed.
My fingers, adorned with smoky quartz and obsidian, reached out. A quick, almost imperceptible flick of my wrist, a murmured incantation that vibrated through the air, and a shiver ran through him – not of pain, but of profound, magical separation. His eyes widened, then filled with a strange, dazed acceptance as his pathetic dick detached and fell on the floor in front of me. He knew. They all know, implicitly, when the magic takes hold.
A crystal jar, already half-filled with similar disappointments, awaited its newest occupant. I picked up my new trinket and dropped it in, the soft clink a familiar dirge against the glass. Another offering to the altar of my unfulfilled desire.
Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404
https://phonesexcandy.com/amber