The warm slathering of sanguine nectar upon thy porcelain skin shalt rejuvenate the hollow of darkness within which your soul should but does not reside, for if the void of spirit is bereft of all but the bitter chill of nothingness cantankerously defying one's own desires it should be cast aside and filled to the very brim by freshly siphoned blood. Upon thy I shall bequeath servitude not of my own rightful rule but unto they own self's bequest of eternal loyalty to the ivory throne of the White Spire upon which the Lord speaks to you now; thy are of...
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