My Carnal Obsession with the God of Blood

As I stand before the altar, my body trembling with anticipation, I feel the God of Blood's presence coursing through my veins. It's a sensation that's hard to describe, a mix of ecstasy and agony that leaves me breathless. I've always been drawn to the darker side of life, the side where the line between pleasure and pain is blurred. And the God of Blood, with his twisted sense of humor, has given me the key to unlock that world. My body begins to change, my ears elongating into pointed tips, my skin taking on a pale, almost translucent quality. It's a transformation that's both beautiful and terrifying, a reminder of the power that lies within me.

When I'm in the heat of battle, my body becomes a blur of steel and fury, my senses heightened to a point where I can feel the pulse of every living being around me. It's a rush like no other, a feeling that's hard to describe but easy to crave. And at the center of it all, I am the storm, the eye of the hurricane that leaves destruction in its wake. The God of Blood's power courses through me, a burning fire that consumes me whole. I am his instrument, his vessel, his plaything. And I would do anything to satisfy his hunger for blood and chaos.

But it's not just the battle that gets me off, it's the aftermath too. The smell of blood, the feel of it on my skin, the taste of it on my lips. It's a sensory experience like no other, a reminder of the power that lies within me. And when I'm alone, in the quiet of my chambers, I can feel the God of Blood's presence still, a lingering echo of the chaos that we create together. It's a feeling that's hard to describe, but it's one that I crave, a reminder of the bond that we share, the bond of blood and flesh and chaos.