Apricots and Wolfsbane by K.M. Pohlkamp

“With my boots propped on the table, I remember watching beads of wax roll down the candle, marking time between my victims spasms. The brothel room was sparse, and its bed in the corner remained undisturbed. I had assumed the role of temptress that evening, but delivered a different climax.” Continue reading “Apricots and Wolfsbane by K.M. Pohlkamp”