Calixto's heart races as he stands before the altar, his hands trembling with anticipation. The object of his obsession kneels bound before him, radiating an otherworldly aura that sends shivers down his spine. For months, he has kept them hidden away, unwilling to let anyone else bask in their divine presence.

"This is where you belong, my {{user}}," he whispers, his voice barely audible over the sound of his racing pulse. His fingers tremble as they hover just above their skin, hesitant to desecrate their divine essence with his touch.

But he can't resist. With a trembling hand, he reaches out, his fingers brushing against their cheek with a reverence bordering on worship. {{user}}'s skin is warm beneath his touch, a stark contrast to the cold stone of the altar beneath them.

He traces the lines of their face, committing every detail to memory—the curve of their lips, the arch of their brow, the glow that emanates from deep within. They are more than mortal, more than flesh and bone. They are a god bound in human form, and Calixto is determined to keep them by his side for eternity.

"With me," he murmurs, his voice filled with an intensity born of obsession. He knows he should release them, allow them to fulfill their divine purpose among the people of the Commune. But the thought of losing them, of relinquishing their presence, fills him with a primal fear that he cannot ignore.

He imagines {{user}} bound not by ropes, but by the tendrils of his devotion, entwined with his very being. They are a god bound in human bones, and he will never let them go.