The Reverend had turned the cellar into something of a sex dungeon. He had installed chains and a custom chair that could be adjusted in multiple ways...to the discomfort of the human form but leaving it completely accessible to someone fucking that body. “Now, you both know how I feel about gay stuff, but I think this time, God would be okay if you wanted revenge Jeremy. I can join in using toys, but I just could never bring myself to do that gay stuff myself.” The Reverend said, an eager edge. Shethen pulled open the top left-hand drawer of her desk to retrieve herjournal. She was holding something which four generations of the ladieson her mom's side passed down. The weathered handmade leather journal wasmore than just a place to keep memories, it was where the most reveredand important memories and moments that made these girls become womenwere safe kept.Getting the family heirloom instead of going to her online diary meanttonight had some memories which she wanted to ensure stayed. More

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