Check out the journal

You find yourself called to the journal, though you can’t say for certain why. The written word just has a certain…appeal to you. Perhaps some hold over from your genetics. It takes some doing to open it – the fucking thing’s locked – but beneath your persistent prodding, gnawing, and tossing it against the wall it eventually pops open with a click. Well, so much for the lock. Greedily you scuttle over to the thick pages and leaf through them at random. Some of them stick together… Your eight eyes hungrily devour what’s written on it.

“No. No!” Belladonna cried, writhing against her bonds, beads of sweat trickling down her treacherous flesh, ablaze for desire for the demon’s lash.

“You cannot resist me. Even now your body betrays you!” Gorthred cackled, his eyes glued to her perfect flesh as he brought down the crop again. His barrel chest heaved with glory at the paladin’s writhing figure, desire mixed with hate, and all of it bent to the means of her submission.

“Oooooh!” Belladonna cried, arching beneath the delicious fire of the lash.

“You can feel it, can’t you?” the demon asked. “Already your mind is mine to mold. The pleasures of flesh were denied you too long! No woman can resist my power. My toxin already fills your veins. Soon you will be a demon like me!”

Belladonna knew it was true. Even as her body yielded to the lash of the demon she could feel her will bend to his pleasure. “Yes! Yes!” she cried. “I will serve you! Gladly my master! My prince!”

He laughed in boisterous confidence. “As you would. It is the fate of all women to serve. You have only accepted your true role. My poison has unlocked your true desires. It was too late the moment you laid eyes upon my turgid flesh! Now!” He gestured. The shackles around her wrists shattered and she fell to the ground. “Serve me, wench.”

Belladonna crawled through the ash of hell to her master’s feet. She nuzzled his turgid flesh, red and hot against her cheek. “Yes, master,” she cooed, taking his length inside her throat. His booming laugh-

You close the book. You lean back slowly. What the hells did you just read? You look between the naked nun and the book filled with tight, shaky handwriting and flip to another page.

…burrowing inside of her. She resisted as best she could, but the sheer number of imps overwhelmed her. Crying out, she came against them, and knew that she was lost, for to come to the pleasure of a monster’s pole corrupted those of the female flesh. She prayed to her goddess not for it to end, but for it to go on forever. Cackling, the imps locked the collar about her throat, the heart shaped seal blazing with unholy-

You close the book. You open it again. Every page seems to be filled with such fantasies. Gods. You knew nuns were repressed by holy shit. All of it is written in the exact same hand. Your little nun has been busy indeed!

A groan from the wall distracts you from the journal. You turn back around, eight eyes fixing on the nun as she weakly moves with the beginning of wakefulness. You glance again at the book. Maybe there’s another way to take her, instead of merely turning her into a mindless breeder like your own mother…