Yes, and you cannot resist the toxin

The scratch is nothing, hardly worth thinking about. Of much more importance are your nearby sisters, still ensnared by daemon-inflicted lust.

They're only a few short steps away, but as you turn to offer your aid, your leg throbs with an all-too-familiar heat. Wincing, you resolve to endure the ratch's venom. It barely grazed you. How potent could it be?

You take a step toward the comely women, their hands and fingers buried between one another's thighs, whipping themselves up into a forbidden frenzy. Your leg throbs again, the heat spreading up your thigh. There's a resounding pulse of heat deep in your belly that causes your entire body to tremble with desire at the sight before you.

"Goddess... how?" You fight the growing desire even as you fall to your knees, but deep inside, you know how. You underestimated the potency of the daemon's poison. Or perhaps it was just the catalyst that the seed already swimming inside your tender womb required to seize your passions again. Or the possibility you dread the most, whatever resistance your oath afforded you against the corruption before was lost along with your purity, rendering you **** to even the slightest taint...

The truest answer is that it doesn't really matter. In the time it took your mind to race through these thoughts, your entire body had already begun to burn with desire. You paw at your own body, drawing your robes high enough to get at your needy fuck hole. You cry out, unrestrained, as your fingers plunge into your molten muff, mimicking on yourself what Yves and Penelope are performing on one another only a few feet away from you.

Just beneath the hem of your gown, the skin above your pubic mound turns an angry shade of red. You can just make out bright red symbols beginning to be scrawled on your skin. You're not so lost in lust as to not be curious about this, so you peel your robes from your body completely, just in time to witness the final touches added to an elaborate pentagram embellished with runes and markings you cannot comprehend. The redness subsides, but the marks remain upon your cream-colored flesh.

You're unaware of what this means, but you suspect that something wicked has transpired within you. The thought of being tainted to your very core sets your imagination ablaze. How did it happen? What does it mean? What will happen now?

These questions ring through your mind not with apprehension, but with depraved anticipation. Your body shudders in the throes of orgasm simply by considering the possibilities.