She doesn’t.

She’s given a set of comfortable clothes, a bedroll, and some trail rations, at least. They’re being decent about pretending she’s going to survive. She’s not given a sword; they somewhat reasonably stopped giving the champions swords after the first three didn’t come back with them. Swords don’t grow on trees.

She’s also not given a quarterstaff, or a large stick, which is somewhat less reasonable because those kind of do grow on trees.

She’s escorted to the portal. The guards are quiet on the way up.

Come on, there has to be a way for her to leave—could she slip past the guards, she's looking innocent and subdued but she can look around in slight sadness—no fuck that she's actually horrified, she doesn't want to die—

The guards, having little else to do, are keeping a close eye on her. 

It’s not actually that far to the cave with the portal in it. The cave is strangely warm and wet, despite the chilly weather outside.

In spite of her fear, Sadde may soon find her thighs in a similar condition.

(It's not just her. The guards look uncomfortable, and their trousers are noticeably tented.)

...uh, what.

"Uh, what?"

"It's- an effect of the portal," the guard on her left says, his face somewhat red. "It has. Effects."

Now that he mentions it, looking at the swirling patch of pink and purple light on the cave wall does seem to have a slightly more concentrated version of the effect. 

"—why."

"What, I should know?" the guard says helplessly.

"I'm about to be sent to my death for having perfectly consensual sex with a coerced priest, the last thing I want to be right now is wet!"

"We don't technically know you're going to die," the first guard says.

The second guard appears to have grown tired of conversation, or possibly of being in this cave. He shoves her through the portal.

Well.

Fuck.

This is the worst, stupidest, most inane way to die, and why is she so turned on she hates everything.

On the other side of the portal, things are different.

The earth and sky are two different shades of red, with black clouds scudding across the sky. There’s a river nearby that seems conventionally transparent but flows over bloodred silt, and a forest of unfamiliar but plausible-looking trees. 

There’s also a monster sitting on his haunches in front of her. 

He - it’s definitely a he - is about three and a half feet tall, red-skinned, with a pair of leathery wings sprouting from his back and a tufted tail continuing the line of his spine. His proudly erect cock has to be a third of his height, jutting out obscenely from his hairless crotch.

He grins nastily. “Hello, Champion.”

Her eyes go straight to the cock. "—was that you? That did the magic that's making me all horny." She also looks over her shoulder—is there a portal there or was it one-way?

He shakes his head. "That's just Mareth. The land is corrupted, and it has certain effects on its inhabitants."

The portal's still there, but it's faded and translucent - she knows, somehow, that she's not getting back through.

She looks at the little monster again and takes more than his enormous dick in this time. "Corrupted? By what? And does this mean people here are always horny? What about human men, don't they get refractory periods?"

He raises an eyebrow. "Corrupted by demons, what else? There is a refractory period, as you put it, for the less persistent races, but it's slight at best. Frankly I'm surprised you're not already gagging for my cock by now. The last Champion certainly was."

Sadde raises an eyebrow. "I'm familiar enough with feeling horny out of my mind to be able to control myself, thanks very much." She eyes his cock speculatively nonetheless. "Is this common, then? Ingnam sends a, ah, 'Champion' through and you greet them with your frankly unrealistically proportioned member?"

He laughs out loud at that. “Yes, it’s something of a routine by now. The Champion comes through, I or one of my brothers fucks them insensate, and we bring them back to our Infernal Mistress to become a corrupted sex slave for the rest of their lives. Speaking of which...”

He makes a sharp gesture, and it feels like all the ambient lust focuses itself into an agonizing point on her clit. “Submit.”

She cuts a lustful whimper in half and bites down on her lip, clenching her hands (and other things) and staring at him defiantly. "No," she snarls. "You submit."

He stares at her, looking rather surprised his trick didn’t work. Then he shrugs and flies towards her, claws outstretched. They look viciously sharp.

Well she's not just gonna stand there waiting for it, is she? She tries to dodge as best she can and—well, find a place to run away towards.

"If you had just asked nicely!"

His claw catches her ration-pouch, tearing it open and causing the contents to spill onto the ground. He doesn’t respond to her, instead choosing to chase after her for another flyby attack. 

There’s the faint impression of a voice, distant and gentle, saying Fight, Champion. Do not allow your story to end this way. 

Oh great more magic bullshit. Well what if instead of dodging this time she ducks and tries for a punch aimed at—you know exactly where.

Her fist catches him right in his swollen red balls. He screeches in pain and veers upwards, flying out of reach. He shakes his fist at her menacingly. “You haven’t heard the last of Zetaz, Champion!”

Then he flies away. 

What a wimp. 

Seriously. That was the thing that wanted to rape her?

.......he could have asked. Now she's super horny and doesn't have that enormous dick inside her—

No. Focus. Her rations, how recoverable are they?

Not particularly. The ground is coated in leaf litter and dust, and the rations were mostly oats, which have mixed in with the detritus pretty thoroughly.  

While she’s checking, though, she finds a bottle that Zetaz appears to have left behind. It’s a fancy bottle, blown glass with a glass stopper, containing a thick, pearlescent liquid. Maybe it’s some kind of potion?