Look at the grimoire.

"While it would be fun to shove one of my children into that tight cunt right this moment and watch you fall before my eyes, I think this route may prove to be more satisfactory in the long end," she says as she walks over to the desk and picks up the book in her hand. She leafs through it. 'Interesting. Seems like I'm not the only one in our little adventuring party to make a deal in exchange for getting what I want,' Monaa thinks as she studies the fel symbols engraved within the book.

The book draws power from the twisting nether, but requires something like soul essence in return. Dangerous magic, because if the user can't provide the book and it's fel masters with enough souls, their own soul becomes the currency. Monaa looks at the sleeping warlock, who has gained a blush and is slightly moving in her sleep. 'I wonder if all of her soul is still there. Might explain why she is such a bitch'.

'Well since she seems to have so much trouble with her lastest ritual, let's help her a bit,' Monaa thinks as she takes a white, gold-tipped quill from the warlocks backpack. She pauses for a moment before pulling off her robe. She puts the end of the quill to her dripping pussy, circling her clit for a bit, before slowly inserting it inside. She moves it slowly in and out, taking it slow and timing it with the increasing pace of her companions breaths a few meters over.

Monaa pinches her nipple and pulls it outward a bit, sending a shiver down her breasts. She lets the glamour disappear for a moment, using her sharp fingernails to trace her most sensitive spots. It doesn't take her long to reach her peak. As she hears the warlock let out a soft moan on the bed, Monaa cums all over the quill she is using as a makeshift sex toy, soaking it in the inky black love juices, which also leave a small puddle on the stool. This orgasm wasn't quit as long or intense as the ones she had earlier this evening, but satisfies her nonetheless.

She pulls the quill free with a wet noise and brings it up to the desk. The once pristine white feather now shimmers with a glossy black colour. Monaa smiles at her work. Even something as simple and innocent as a feather quill can be made to serve her new purpose. It drips with an ink-like substance, which hosts a familiar smell to the mage. "Let's get to work," Monaa tells herself as she uses the corrupted quill to change some of the symbols in the book. The changes are subtle, but Monaa knows full well the marvelous effect they will have once the warlock completes the ritual now inscribed in her grimoire.

Monaa stands up, putting the quill back into the backpack and cleaning the black stain of the stool with a wave of her hand. She puts her robe on once more and walks over to the freckled brunette, studying her for a moment. Her breathing is much quicker, sometimes interrupted with soft sexy moans. She's also moving a lot more, her legs especially. Monaa pulls the covers back a bit, revealing the warlock's erect nipples. Monaa moans, resisting the urge to jump her right then and there and complete her corruption. 'There will be plenty of that later,' she thinks as she composes herself and pulls back from the bed.

She turns to leave the room, careful to hide any trace of her intrusion and reapplying the illusion covering her body. She opens the door and looks upon Sarah one more time. 'I can't wait so see how you turn out.' She closes the door and uses her transformed finger to once again lock it. 'But I have other friends to find', she thinks as she crosses the central room towards the door that leads to the rest of the temple.