Renewal of Vows 

	You stand before the great iron door, as you have so many times before, in almost total darkness, a simple candle flame your only companion. Butterflies flit through your stomach. It is not fear, not nervousness, like it was so many years ago. You were just a slip of a girl then, bartering with your first creature for power, willing to give up anything he asked for. A virgin sacrifice. No, no longer that girl. These are butterflies of excitement, of suspense. You take the ornate silver key from where it hangs on a string, dangling between your breasts, and insert it into the lock. A chill cuts through you for a moment as you turn it, and the door swings open.
	The room is dark, and humid, making even the thin robe you wore seem like far too much. You discard it, hanging it upon a hook by the door, fingers slowly brushing the stone work. Something shifts in the darkness. You see nothing, but you can hear the rattle of the creature’s chains, the quiet echo of its deep breaths. You turn to meet that abyss, blowing out the candle as you do. The door slowly swings shut behind you, leaving you in pitch blackness with the beast. The demon. The thing you bonded to you, that hates the light, and desires your presence. You walk on bare feet, deeper into the room, the creature’s breathing becoming louder, echoing around the chamber. It touches you, testing, a warm tendril sliding across your arm, down the small of your back, your thigh. You do not flinch. You do not fear. You give yourself to it willingly.
	It takes you eagerly. Tendrils wrap themselves around your limps, soft suckers imprinting on your skin, bringing small pain and a tight grasp. Soon your movement is decided for you as you are picked bodily off the ground, lifted high, manipulated. Tendrils explore your whole body, your soft belly and breasts, your neck and face, parting your thighs to probe between them. A moan wells up from inside you and the slender manipulator slips inside you, writhing and wriggling, as if making sure the way is clear. The breathing is louder now, quicker, filling your sense of hearing. You are lowered back to the ground, onto your back, held tight by the tendrils. The breathing is met by more moans, more sighs of pleasure as the thing ravishes you with the tentacles, squeezing your breasts as it thrusts in and out of you, stretching you, making you ready for it. Dampness wells within you, lubricating the horrifying appendage as it violates your deepest part.
	You feel its presence more than you see it, its breathing becoming louder, its rough skin touching yours. Powerful clawed hands grasp your arms, pinning you down, as if you’d try to escape. Drool from some great maw hits your face before the beast’s tongue, the vile thing sliding over your skin, forcing its way past your lips. The taste is bitter, and foul, and it forces you to swallow much of its saliva as it pushing the fleshy thing down your throat. It hurts at first, making you choke and gag. Numbness spreads through your throat, then the rest of your head, down into your belly and out to your limbs. The numbness turns into an unquestionable heat as the aphrodisiac venom takes hold. Soon you want more of it, sucking the creature’s tongue with a needy moan, a whimper of desire. The suckers from the creature’s tentacles leave welts on your breasts, your belly, your ass, your nipples, and the pain is delicious, leaving you craving more. Your hips begin to buck desperately as the tentacles spread your legs wide, urging the beast to take you. You are made ready, and it is everything you wanted.
	A shudder crawls through you as the head of the demon’s hard prick presses against your sex, the slimy organ coating you in its precum. Your bucking hips push the head inside of you, and you let out a muffled cry as the thick cock spreads you wide. The creature fills you with its prick, and an orgasm rocks through you as it hilts deeply inside you. It begins to move, powerful thrusts that slap hard against your pelvis and clit and send jolts of pleasure up your spine and down your legs. The thing’s breathing becomes grunts of pleasure, of primal need. Its alien cock pleases you in a way no human’s could, bumps and ridges hitting parts of your cunt that drive you wild, and you writhe in pleasure beneath it. Your eyes become clouded and lidded with lust, and you moan around the invading tongue. 
	Both your mouth and your cunt drool with desire for your demonic lover, a wet puddle spreading beneath you with every hard thrust. The creature’s grunts fill the air, along with the chinking of its chains on the stones, its tethers that remind it constantly that it belongs to you, it exists for your pleasure and your desires. Its thrusts come faster now, its rough skinned flesh pressing against yours, chest to chest, hips to hips, lips to lips. Its body is hot atop yours, fiery with primal need and desire, a need to breed, and your legs spread wider, inviting it. It isn’t long before the creature fulfills your wish, its dark seed spilling into your womb, hot as fire. It fills your cunt completely and spills onto the floor. The creature never stops thrusting, even after its orgasm ends, its tip pressing against your cervix with each thrust as if to force your womb full. Another orgasm shudders through your body, and you let out a muffled cry. The only sounds that fill the room are your primal moans, and the rhythmic grunt of the demon as it pounds you, over and over and over. It holds tight to you as it cums again, more seed spilling into you, and sending you rocking into another orgasm, your whole body shuddering in its tight embrace. Later, when you are too exhausted to keep your eyes open, the creature still fucks you as you pass into sleep.
	You awake later in the blackness, curled up in a ball, surrounded in warmth. The creature is curled around you protectively, sleeping still, its breaths punctuated by rumbling snores. You sit up slowly, blinking your eyes until they can see in this black abyss, drinking in the renewed power from the ritual. You run a hand over the tentacle mane of your beast lovingly, a silent thank you for granting you its power once more. You stay like that for a time, before deciding reluctantly to leave, realizing your husband must miss you by now. You stand, and begin to tread back towards the entrance, but as you are about to put on your robe, you pause, and put a hand to your stomach. No, you didn’t imagine it. You can feel it in there, something writing, deep beneath the surface. You smile to yourself, wickedly. This will be your third son now, and you think he’ll be even stronger than the others.