<span style="color: #FFBFBF">Trinity woke in terror.  Not because she was having a bad dream, but because sleeping was the only escape from misery in this hell she lived in. As she returned to reality, she clutched her still  torn stomach and cried. The pain she was used to, it was the loss of another child that made her cry, her innocent, helpless, mindless spawns that were ripped away from her right after they ripped her open, they were always taken away immediately.  If only they would let her hold her child for just a moment, it would make up for the incredible pain, but no, they never let her.<br/>At least now they would leave her alone in her solitary confinement for a while to heal before facing her with another prisoner to mate.<br/>Being left alone for so long in such loneliness was awful too, but better than torture or forced birth. She had learned long ago how to avoid torture by following orders without hesitation.  But there was no way to avoid the endless pains of of a delivery nor the mental strain of losing another child. Nothing in her empty coffin sized cell could distract her from the thoughts of her latest child's fate now, would he be tortured and enslaved his whole life too? She sobbed for him, and for the guilt of bringing him to such an awful world.<br/>They wouldn’t let her see him, but she could read him just long enough in her belly to know the gender.  And just knowing he was a boy made it all the worse, he would be beaten twice as much, forced to fight in gladiator matches or war, forced to breed, kill or even worse… a deep calming voice interrupted Trinitys thoughts out of nowhere. It was so clear and calming that it instantly soothed her.<br/>She stopped crying and scrambled to curl her body to allow her forehead to push against the tiny door that was the entrance to her coffin sized cell. It was completely sealed on purpose, no windows, no cracks to look out of or even hear voices through.  The purpose was to prevent her from glimpsing, reading the minds beyond her cubby.  When inside it, she was in physical and mental darkness. Usually if she concentrated enough she could sense the mind of a guard or prisoner beyond the enchantments at great effort.  Just attempting this after birth would be suicidal.  But this was a clear connection and it wasn't even on purpose. It was as though he were singing right into her ear, it comforted her.<br/>Whatever made that sound was getting closer, or perhaps the more she heard the closer she felt to him mentally.  She didn't have time to find out.  The familiar grip of her shackles tightening made her instinctively brace for a familiar impact.  She was swiftly pulled out by her chains and thrown against the wall, she was used to being thrown around like a flail but not so soon after birth.  After she sank to the ground, she dry heaved and felt the impact of a bladed whip scrape the skin clean off her shoulder.  It hurt, but healed before she was lifted by the neck by her masters assistant, she called him ‘Pain Maker’, a fat man with a scar on his face.  Pain maker was actually one of her favorites, his simple mind made it easy to trick him into thinking she was broken.<br/>He wrapped the magical collar around her neck that she hated the most, they told her this would kill her if she stopped the mating until it was complete.  A ‘Death Necklace’ as she called it. He looked into her eyes, his mind shielded by layers and layers of anti succubus enchantments, “Mate or die.”<br/>She gulped as he threw her into the pit.  It was too soon after birth to mate again, she was in so much pain, her body hadn't healed yet. She clutched her belly, the half healed tear across her lower stomach began to ooze blood and sting, she felt her insides twist and cramp in preparation for more pain, and this would be painful, yet she was still more scared to die than mate like this.<br/>The cover magically flew off the cage before her, revealing a freshly tortured wolvian. She could instantly smell his blood and wet fur before lifting her head to look at him.  It was when he spoke and Trinity knew he was the one, the one that made the voice in her head.  His voice had soothed and filled her a few moments ago, but now that he saw his function, his warriors pride was lost.  She felt so many different emotions bursting from his mind.  Every word he spoke came with pain, greif, loss, anger, but no fear.  He was once a strong warrior who bore more scars on the inside then the worst prisoners she'd faced, and she was even more used to suicidal requests from her victims, but his intentions were different. He wasn't willing to die to avoid the suffering or the pain, was it just to avoid having to mate with her? Was he really so ashamed to be with her, to succumb to her, a pitiful tool? No.  No, it wasn’t that.  She realized he would rather die than bear a child into slavery and suffering as she had done so many times.  She felt horrible, agreed with him, but she had her reasons too.  She did it to soothe the suffering, and now it was his turn.  She had to suppress her emotions to comfort him, to stop him from hurting himself.<br/>Trinity took a deep breath and tried to stand but her legs and stretched out wings trembled and collapsed under her, she fell back again and groaned in agony.  Showing her body was usually enough to take over her victims minds, but she was too weak to.  So she turned to another seduction technique, and began singing him his own song, attempting to enter his mind, and hopefully to summon him to come lift her.  Perhaps if she made him hold her, they could see her trying to get the job done, but she also wanted to feel his embrace, feel him wrap around her, to give her strength through comfort, and if they both wanted to live, she could give him comfort through pleasure in return.<br/>As Trinity sung his song back to him, she began to send simple yet desperate thoughts to the wolvians broken mind, thoughts the spectators wouldn’t hear,  ‘Come to me’  ‘Lift me’  ‘Hold me’  ‘Comfort me’  ‘Help me’</span>