Try to save her.

Your duty as a Sister of the Burning Rose is clear. The local Order may have been shattered by the daemonic ****, but that makes it all the more important you stand by their principles. There’s no way you can abandon an innocent.

Still, you are cautious. You get down from Aegis’s back and draw your sword, approaching her carefully. She still hasn’t noticed you, but you resist the urge to call out. Her chains look flimsy, and you think you can break them easily with your blade. The forest is still eerily still and silent, so you step forward more confidently.

Your foot clips a low-lying fungal pod, and it contracts violently, and squirts a thick fog of spores from a hole in its top. This seems to set off a chain reaction, and in moments dozens of other pods have fired their cargo into the air. The sweet smell in the clearing intensifies a hundred-fold. You give a gasp of surprise, and start coughing. A moment later you wonder if you should have tried to hold your breath.

The chained woman gives a loud moan as she breathes in the spores, and her stands starts moving faster, her fingers sliding in and out of her wet hole. It takes only a moment for you to understand why. A wave of heat sweeps through you, settling in your breasts and womanhood. Your head swims, and you find it hard to muster your thoughts.

You stumble, staggering forward and dropping to your knees beside the woman. This close her skin seems so soft and delicate, her breasts so round and luscious, that you want to touch her more than you’ve wanted anything in your life.

Filled with the kind of awe you usually only feel at the most sacred religious ceremonies, you lower your mouth to her breast, your tongue teasing her erect nipple. The woman give a musical moan, arching her back in pleasure far beyond what you would have expected your inexperienced touch to bring her. She smiles, and her sky-blue eyes flicker open to look at you. It’s the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen.

You’re paralyzed for a moment. You want to continue to toy with her breasts – you’re sure you could keep sucking them for an eternity. But you can smell the arousal wafting from her quim, and you long to bury your face in it and lap its flowing juices. And your own pussy is just as aroused, making you wonder if she could be bringing you even more pleasure if you were to tear your way free of the clothes which seem so tight and confining right now.

A part of that remembers your faith and the teachings of the Burning Rose is wailing that this wrong. But another, deeper part, the instincts you’ve honed through years of combat training, is telling you something else. They’re making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, and telling you that you are being watched.