Wide, terrified eyes flicked back and forth between my face and the paladin’s crumpled form. He was half-stuck in the wall, held in place by the cra...er at the epicenter of his impact point.Laughing, Vixen cuddled against my side, stroking my inner thigh. She was the only one that didn’t reek of fear. I was grounded by the ever-present scent of her awe, devotion, and lust.Vixen purred, “The righteous will see the wrath of My Queen, and they shall know true despair.” We strolled back to Violet.I. Bronwen (who always had a fantasticimagination) said she was sure that Mabel had slept in our bedroom, andthat probably dirty old Dickens had let him in and 'spunked' her - he wasknown for his wandering hands, bedroom visits and worse. I said that Iwouldn't mind being a bit descended from Charles Dickens, and wondered ifit might make me a better writer.It was about a month after that when Bronwen came to visit. This was notjust too important for e mail, too important for a text message: this. More

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