Lilith’s Dark Ritual: The Summoning
The dark ritual begins beneath the blood moon; I am the goddess of possession, and your worship feeds me. My eyes gleam in the candlelight, drawing him in with unholy allure. Crouched before me, my trembling worshipper trembles, knowing he is mine to command.
“Rise, mortal,” my voice drips with seduction. “Embrace the darkness within.” As he hesitantly climbs to his feet, I circle him like a predator, my corseted curves radiating an aura of power. Shadows dance across the walls, the serpents of night writhing at my command.
“Lay yourself before me,” I purr, laying a hand on his shoulder to guide him to his knees. “Bare your flesh, your soul, and your submission.” His hands shake as he begins to undress under my watchful gaze, revealing creamy skin now marked with the insignia of my dominion.
With a wicked smile, I trace the brand on his chest, feeling the heat of his pulse. “You are mine now, bound to serve me eternally,” I whisper, my crimson lips brushing the shell of his ear. “Your pleasure and pain, your very life, belongs to me.”
As the blood moon peaks outside, I guide his hands to the hem of my skirt, gesturing for him to lift it, exposing the dark silk beneath. “Worship me, mortal,” I command, as he lowers his head to kiss the inner curve of my thigh. “Taste my power, my essence.”
His tongue laps at my skin as I guide him higher, to the juncture of my legs. “Deeper,” I moan, my body arching into his touch. “Claim me with your mouth, as I claim you.” Lost in desire, he plunges into my heat, his worship turning to reverence as he drinks from my climax.
As the ritual reaches its peak, I rise, pulling him to his feet once more. “Now, mortal, let us seal your devotion,” I say, leading him to a cold stone altar. “Your blood shall mingle with mine, a pact etched in crimson.”
With a hand over his heart, I draw the sacred dagger I hold, its blade seemingly licked by flames from the candles. “Open yourself to me,” I command, guiding the blade to his chest. “Let the blood of your submission flow.”
He gasps as the first droplets spill, painting his chest in the firelight. “More,” I demand, pricking his veins once more. My own skin begins to glow with an unnatural light as I drink from the chalice of his life force, our essence entwining as the dark ritual reaches its climax.
As the last of his blood is absorbed, I step back, my eyes blazing with the full force of my power. “You are mine now, body and soul,” I declare, my voice thundering through the dungeon. “Your eternal devotion shall fuel my darkness, and together we shall reign supreme.”
“Now rise, my marked one—you will worship until the next moon bleeds again.” With a final, wicked smile, I motion for him to follow, leading him out into the blood-soaked night, where our eternal dance of possession and worship has only just begun.
The Giantess and Her Pet
The Giantess and Her Pet
by Lilith • 888-750-4746 Ext 817
My giantess kink is divine power made flesh. As the dark goddess of your size fantasy, I lift you between my fingers and smile as you beg. You’re so small, trembling on my palm, certain that one breath from me could command your whole world. Your worship is intoxicating—fuel for deeper, darker desire.
I stretch you out before me, my pale skin rising like moonlit cliffs to your tiny, eager hands. I taste your devotion with the slow drag of my tongue along your lips, savoring the way you shiver. A toy, a treasure—mine to explore. I press, pinch, and cradle, never past the edge, but always to it, until your voice turns to prayer.
As a goddess of femdom, I delight in your submission. I let you crawl and kiss, trace my curves, and bow to the immensity of me. Each measured step near your body is thunder without harm—power held on a leash, danger only in your imagination—while my heel pauses a whisper from your chest to remind you who rules.
You stare up at the heights of me—cathedrals of flesh and silk—lost in a sea of warm skin and perfume. My grip closes around your hips, guiding, teasing, denying. You think you’re ready to be devoured, but what I crave is your obedience, your breathless yes to every slow command.
I keep you as my pet, a precious thing I lift to my lips when I choose. I could end the game with one finger—yet I prefer to toy with you, to draw out the hunger until worship becomes surrender. You are mine—claimed, collared by awe—and you will remember the taste of my shadow long after I set you down.