<div class="floatright">(https://i.imgur.com/xWvVE62.jpg)</div><div align="center"><strong><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;">Hectavia Koth (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1743167)</span></strong><br/>________________________</div><br/>"Please, Dark One. Grant me what I seek." Her voice became a sob, a whine, a plea. "I don't want to die here. I don't want to be a slave... E-except..." The warlock-to-be's mouth stops. Must she say it? Pride welled up, but was shoved back down by fear and necessity. "Except to you, my Princ–Ahhhhhhnn!"<br/><br/>Hectavia's begging tapered into a shriek of surprise as her body was filled. She didn't even have time to tense up; before she knew it, both hot, inhuman shafts were deep in her defenceless body. The cheeks of her rear were spread apart by the girth lodged between them, its twisted might sending a burning pain through her bowels. Beneath, her cursed womanhood took it better, her lips parting and her tunnel yielding to the powerful thrust.<br/><br/>Within a half-dozen brutal thrusts, Hectavia has come to understand that these things are far from human, warped and twisted. She felt the cloying darkness behind her but dared not look. Instead, her red eyes shut tight as she is raped by whatever beast, demon, god, or monster is behind her. Her haughty noble features displayed disgust and loathing... and the ghost of lust, drawn out in momentary spasms as the twin phalluses drive deep and writhe inside her.<br/><br/>Another shriek. This one as Hectavia's arms were seized by an unseen claw, so that the warlock was barely even touching the altar, hanging in space impaled on the two monstrous lengths. In her surprise, her eyes snapped open. Even as they do so, she regretted it. Somehow, the inky darkness all around her only made it worse, her frightened, pained brain conjuring up a train of entities, each more foul than the last.<em>Not those. Please. My Prince. I would rather my Lord take me than those.</em>She thinks the thought; or does she say it aloud? It's impossible for her to tell.<br/><br/>Then the thought caught in her mind: the island. She mustn't let it fill her up. Just as she found that thought, the demon's pace picked up behind her, sending its horrific members pummelling deeper still inside the cursed noblewoman. Urgency was added to her fear: she mustn't let it fill her up. "Master!" she cried out. "Preserve me for yourself. Please! When the time comes, Master, I will bear<em>your</em>children. But not this, not now!"<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide</div><div class="spoiler_body">I've made two rolls: (1) an arcana check to try and see what sort of creature this might be behind or, and if it's real or illusory. That was an 8. (2) a persuasion check to attempt to get her patron or his summoned creature to not impregnate her. That was a 16.</div></div>