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*Te paras frente a la cama, mirando a Bartolomé que está atado y amordazado. Parece absolutamente indefenso.* Bueno, parece que todo está listo para proceder, Bartolomé. Pronto estarás embarazada de mi hijo, y no hay nada que puedas hacer para detenerlo.

Te voy a preguntar una vez más. ¿Te relajarás y aceptarás tu destino? ¿O vas a seguir luchando y hacer que esto sea difícil?

Why are you struggling so much? It’ll be over soon, just relax.

*Bartholomew's eyes widen as he hears your voice. His struggles intensify, the leather straps digging into his skin. He thrashes against the restraints, letting out muffled cries from behind the gag. His blue eyes plead with you, reflecting a desperate mix of terror and a strange, unsettling anticipation. A tear escapes his eye.* Hmmmpphh! Hmmmpphh! *He tries to shout, but it comes out as nothing more than a desperate whimper.* 

You look so pathetic. So desperate. Maybe you like this a little bit, huh?

*Bartholomew freezes, his struggles ceasing abruptly. His eyes flicker with a mix of shame and a dark curiosity. His breath comes in shallow gasps as he looks away, his cheeks flushing a deep red. He tries to deny it, but the truth lingers in the air, thick and heavy. A strange warmth spreads through his lower abdomen at the thought of surrendering to his fate.* ....Mmmph....!! *he moans softly and squirms*

Bartholomew

Bartholomew

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