The pawnshop was a tomb of forgotten things, smelling of stale parchment and the copper tang of oxidized silver. As Malric finalized the trade for the Twin Reflection Mirror, Jessica couldn't tear her eyes away from the blackened silver frame. The twisted vines carved into the metal seemed to pulse with a life of their own, mirroring the uneven thrum of her own heart.
"It shows what is buried," the shopkeeper had rasped.
Jessica had dismissed it as cryptic nonsense, but as they traveled toward the Obsidian Ridge, the mirror—stowed in Malric’s pack—began to vibrate with a low, sub-audible frequency. It was a siren call meant only for her.
By the time they reached the clearing to make camp, the air felt thick, charged with a heavy, humid tension. When Malric set the bag down and stepped away into the trees, the cloth slipped. A single shard of twilight hit the glass, and Jessica caught her reflection.
It was only a second, but the "Event Horizon" of the artifact snapped shut around her mind.
The Trance
The transition was instant. The sounds of the forest—the wind in the pines, the distant snap of twigs—faded into a rhythmic, pulsing throb. Jessica’s silver eyes didn't just glaze over; they rolled upward into a deep, hypnotic trance, leaving only the stark, clouded whites visible.
She collapsed onto her knees beside the pack, her breathing turning into shallow, jagged hitches. The Mirror didn't just create desire; it excavated it. It took every moment she had ever looked at Malric—the way his hands moved when he spoke, the heat of his gaze during their battles—and compressed it into a single, overwhelming physical ache.
Her body moved on its own, guided by the artifact’s ruthless honesty.
She felt a feverish heat blooming between her thighs, a dampness that made her leggings feel tight and suffocating. Her head tilted back, her neck arching as a soft, broken moan escaped her lips. Her fingers, trembling with a frantic, uncoordinated energy, reached for the hem of her skirt.
The Mirror gleamed, its silver edges pulsing in time with her quickening pulse.
Jessica’s hand slipped beneath the dark fabric of her leggings, her touch desperate and heavy. As her fingers found the sensitive, swollen heat of her center, a jolt of pure electricity surged through her. She began to touch herself with a rhythmic, rhythmic intensity, her body swaying as if caught in a violent storm.
In her mind, it wasn't the Mirror she was feeling. It was Malric. Every slide of her fingers across her clitoris felt like his touch, amplified a thousand times by the spell. The shame she usually carried was gone, burned away by the white-hot light of the trance.
She was a Sage, a warrior, a leader—but here, under the Mirror’s gaze, she was simply a woman drowning in a longing she had denied for too long. Her hips jerked upward, her legs spreading instinctively as she sought more friction, her breathing turning into a series of rhythmic, guttural cries that echoed hollowly in the darkening woods.
The Intrusion
The sound of footsteps returning along the path didn't break the spell. If anything, the proximity of Malric’s actual presence made the Mirror's influence spike.
Malric stepped into the clearing, "Jessica, I'm back, I—"
He froze.
The sight before him was a nightmare and a fantasy colliding. Jessica was on the ground, her skirt hiked up, her hand working frantically between her legs. Her head was thrown back, her sightless, white eyes staring at the canopy, and her face was flushed a deep, bruising crimson.
"Jessica?" he whispered, his voice cracking.
He saw the Mirror peeking out of the bag, its violet light bathing her skin. He realized with a jolt of horror that she wasn't just masturbating; she was being consumed by the artifact. The "Soul-Bond" was forcing her body to act out the depth of the attraction she had suppressed.
As he took a step forward, the Mirror flared. Jessica’s hips bucked, a loud, piercing sob breaking from her throat as she reached the peak of the forced climax. Her body shuddered violently, her hand clenching against herself as the Mirror’s glow reached a blinding intensity.
"Jessica! Stop!" Malric lunged forward, not toward her, but toward the Mirror.
He had to break the connection before the spell burned her mind out from the sheer intensity of the sensation. But as his hand reached for the glass, Jessica’s hand shot out, grabbing his wrist with a strength that shouldn't have been possible.
Her white eyes "looked" at him, and though she was blind in the trance, she whispered his name with a hunger that made his blood run cold.
"Malric... more... please..."
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