Explicit

Spells 'R Us: Do You Believe in Magic?

Please note: Sharon has asked that the name of her mountain, river, and city be withheld.
For reasons which she believes shall become clear.

Sharon smiled as she put on her back pack and headed out the back door to climb up her mountain. The weather had taken two weeks to miss the weekend with either too much heat, too many clouds, or just plain rain. Now the blue sky beckoned her from above as the sun lit the path only as it accompanied her like a friend instead of a heat lamp.

The sun was going down and the lights and noises of the city were swelling in the standard prelude to the symphony of the night as Xanatos, an aging but appealing rich aesthete, walked the halls of Castle Wyvern smiling maliciously to himself.

"This'll teach her," he thought as he wiped drying mud from his hands.

In the antechamber off the main dining hall stood Demona's statue. Curvaceous, strong, and compellingly malevolent with her fangs showing and her huge batwings folded behind her, here was a beauty. A Galatean creature of the night waiting for life.

She was a woman who was used to getting what she wanted. She was rich, and she knew money could get you, eventually albeit, whatever you desired. Unfortunately, what she desired most had been unattainable, that is until now. Her husband, a talented plastic surgeon (actually an artiste -- he was an amazing sculptor of the human body) who had long catered to the extreme end of plastic surgery (Models, and strippers and the what-not who wanted only the very largest in implants, and similar type body-work) had come up with an ingenuous solution to the hazards of the silicon implant.