The lake’s icy water laps at my bare skin as I’m suspended in a harness of coarse ropes, my wrists and ankles bound, body hovering just above the surface. Moonlight fractures on the ripples, casting my naked form in a thousand shifting reflections.
Elias, masked and shirtless, stands waist-deep in the shallows, his gloved hands gripping the ropes that keep me dangling like an offering. The coven lines the shore, their black robes stark against the pale sand, their masked faces watching as the cold tightens my n*****s and makes my p***y throb despite the chill. The air smells of wet earth and my own fear-soaked arousal, the brand on my lower back burning from last night’s ritual.
“Night five,” Elias intones, voice echoing over the water, distorted by his silver mask.
“Tonight, you drown
