The Forsaken Hero
I closed my eyes and let out a shuddering breath. My fingers were numb and cold, my arm aching where the needle pierced the vein. Something clattered onto the pavement, and I looked down to see the needle. It had slipped out of my hand. Nothingness swirled around me, bringing the first sense of peace I'd felt in my short, miserable life. There was no one to miss me, and no one I would miss. There's always someone else to beat or rape. The regulars would move on quickly. I died. Only...wasn't death supposed to be dark? And since when did 'nothingness' have so many gods? Discord: https://discord.gg/PX3xqJdZMY
The Price of Mercy
I stared at the glowing magic circle in horror, barely suppressing a sob as a familiar, blinding pain seared across my chest. I clutched at my breasts, my throat tightening in panic, but relief washed over me as I confirmed the slave crest was still gone. The pain was just a phantom, a memory that even now haunted my nightmares.
But it wasn't entirely imaginary. An uncomfortable pressure built against my soul as the magic circle continued to grow, each new rune intensifying its power. It would take time for the spell to reach the strength needed to overcome my resistance, but once it did... I shuddered, my tail twisting anxiously. It was too much to contemplate. I couldn't be enslaved again. I couldn't!
"Relax and let the Joys claim you, and it'll all be over. Let me, Lord Coufyx in, and I promise you'll have peace. Submit to me, Xiviyah. Let your name ring true once more."