.She wandered up. I literally had to bite down on my hand to stifle a groan as her hand slipped onto one of her breasts. She closed her eyes and sighe... as she fondled herself there. At first she was content to just caress herself gently, then she deliberately sought out her nipple and began squeezing and pulling on it. I watched in awe as my princess, no, my goddess, played with her own body. It was almost too much to bear.She kept that up for the longest time, and I could see her getting. She smears a bit of blood of bat on her forehead. She burns a picture of a confident woman, a leather clad model she found in a magazine.She begins the final chant.Her friend Holly bursts into the basement. She pauses startled by the intrusion. She fumbles for the words to finish the spell, but she manages to articulate them.Nothing happens. She wonders if she missed or garbled a word in the final chant. She looks up at Holly.“What’s up, Holly?”“What the fuck do you mean, what’s up? You were. It was fun going through the boxes, some jewelry, and small bric-a-brac, nothing valuable except within the family. I recognized one lovely necklace from pictures. But then I hit the books.Five fancy leather-bound books locked with straps and each labeled by hand with years. A diary or I should say a set of diaries. If you know me, then you know damn well that was all the clearing I was doing that day. I had books to read.The first diary started the day after her wedding and boy was it an. "He seems okay to me." He's been so miserable of late. He's not been sleeping enough, what with the stress and worry of exams and everything else. Not to mention the peer pressure these days. It's not like it was back when we were young, Bobby." I wouldn't let it worry you too much, sugar," I mumbled distractedly, my eyes still fixed on the newspaper."He never goes out to socialise anymore. The poor boy's never even had a girlfriend. Sixteen years of age, for fuck's sake, and he's probably.