IR - Sierra Cirque - Creep Charnel

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The coyotes will have a feast; her valiva runs thick and copiously. I am beside myself with this whore. She cringes at my attentions yet her bod pulses, reaching out for more. This is the ultimate state and the final betrayal. Her mind and feel of self have hopelessly failed. I readied her with a tight clam truss and placed her in the middle of the mattress. Instruments of foray encircle the altar. Letting her stew for a couple hours will afford her the chance to amuse herself by imagining how they all will be used. It was time for the trail. Eyes covered and guided by the strap cleaving her beaver she is twitched up the hill. Every step is a panic and her feet are jabbed by stubble and shale. Arriving at the grotto I tie her to a tree. Her skull fuck hole is stuffed with 2 supermarket rags and sealed with filling tape. For added measure her jaw is sealed shut with a wrap over the top of her head. Her bellows will slightly be audible over the caw of the crows. The crows are announcing a fresh arrival; the celebrate is at hand. Lets start with some red life essence drawn as the whimper of the mosquito fades in an out about her head.