Last night, servants of a witch’s coven abducted me from where I worked, a small occult bookshop in Salem. Just as I was locking up for the night, they came out of the darkness, two darkly dressed men grabbing my arms, as a third held a damp rag over my mouth to stifle my screams. I had a moment to realize they intended to kidnap me before the chloroform-soaked rag rendered me unconscious.

When I awoke, I noticed that I was naked, gagged, and chained down on my belly across a raised wooden platform with my arms and legs stretched painfully taut toward the platform’s corners. As I shook off the lingering effects of the chloroform, I felt an ominously terrifying sense of dread as I noticed in the flickering torchlight that the platform I was secured upon was surrounded by at least a dozen naked men, all with massive raging hard-ons.

Suddenly, the crowd in front of me parted for a woman wearing a long dark gray cloak, her face concealed within the shadow of the cowl of her cloak. “Enjoy yourselves, my loyal servants, but don’t damage her. Remember, at midnight, she will be sacrificed to our dark lord Satan.”

The cloaked woman had barely left the chamber when the first of her servants started raping me. I quickly lost count of how many times these evil monsters had vaginally or anally abused me for their pleasure. I’d never in my wildest nightmares imagined that I’d endure such a painfully brutal gang rape. As one would finally climax deep inside me and pull out, the next would already be waiting to impale me, thrusting his rock-hard cock deep into my vagina or ass.

I’m not sure how long my brutal sexual assault lasted, but eventually, two women wearing hooded cloaks like the one worn by the woman who’d approved my gang rape came and released me from my restraints. Taking me upstairs into what appeared to be a quaint New England Inn, they brought me to a room where several other women awaited to bathe my body, wash and style my hair, do my nails and makeup, and dress me for my role as their sacrifice.

My wrists secured in tight-fitting steel manacles, I was led back downstairs, past the chamber where I’d been gang-raped to a much larger chamber with a massive flaming pit at its center. Entering the chamber, the women escorting me joined the others wearing concealing hooded cloaks. Staring at these eleven cloaked women, I suddenly realized I was in the presence of a witch’s coven, with the twelfth witch, their high priestess, the woman who ordered my gang rape, ominously standing next to that flaming pit with two cloaked male servants behind her.

“Christine, once every 28 days, on the night of the new moon, we offer a sacrifice to our dark lord Satan. Tonight, you will be that sacrifice. Resist, and my servants will cast you into the flesh consuming flames, your soul forever doomed to wander Hell’s endless lakes of fire. Or, you can step into the fire, surrendering yourself, body, and soul, to become one of the devil’s concubines, fated to endure an eternity of agonizingly brutal, unrelenting torture simply for the dark lord’s amusement.”

Shocked, I stared into the high priestess’s eyes before willingly stepping into the flames. Seriously, spending eternity in Hell’s lakes of fire or as one of the devil’s submissive pain toys? The coven should stop abducting its sacrificial victims and just run an ad. What they’re offering is every masochistic pain slut’s ultimate sexual fantasy...