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My guards forced a corridor through the cheering throngs of people.Details became clearer. The people were short and wiry, dark skinned with straight black hair. I continued across the open space toward a giant, stepped pyramid. Marching stiffly up the stairs the smell of incense grew stronger, almost overpowering me as I reached the top. There, standing behind a tremendous black altar, stood a man who was undeniably a high priest of some sanguine religion. The tall, feathered mask that hid his features was his only raiment. Streaks of drying blood ran down his thin chest and drew streaks along his skinny thighs. I hesitated at the sight of the long black dagger in the priest's hand but was shoved toward the altar from behind. Unable to fight back, I was dragged on to the altar, strong hands pinning my wrists and ankles to the smooth, warm surface.I woke, a damp towel on my head. Struggling to sit up, I saw Andrea came into the room."Are you OK? You don't look so good." There was a. Buffy only knew Alicia Penshaw from Dawn's stories and one or two parent meetings at school. She remembered a very conservatively clad woman of strict values and high morale.She certainly did not know the woman she met as soon as the door opened. She seemed to fill the entrance with flesh. Huge balloons of HH proportions rode high on her chest. They were hardly concealed by a shocking pink lycra top.Its color almost made the enamel on Buffy's teeth crack.The woman also wore a tower of silver-blonde hair. It crowned the sluttiest face Buffy ever saw. Arching eyebrows had been painted over sky-blue eye shadow and the bushiest lashes ever. They encased wide, totally vacant blue eyes. Her nose was tiny and upturned.Her lips were at least twice as fat and shining as Dawn's.The bare belly that lay in the shadows of her mighty tits plunged down to the waist of an almost non-existent pink mini skirt. It might just as well have been a wide belt. At the centre of her belly shone a huge fake.
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