The morning after the vault, Marek was in a foul, demanding mood. The million gold was secure in his hideout, but his hunger for total subjugation had only grown. Before heading out to the upper-floor markets to procure high-end supplies for his permanent stay in the Spire, he stood by the door, his green eyes flashing one last time.
"I’ll be gone for an hour," he barked. "I don't want you idle. You will stand in the center of this room and pleasure each other. Do not stop until you have both peaked. When I return, I expect you to be waiting on your knees, smiling for your Master."
The Forced Intimacy
As the heavy iron door clicked shut and the sound of Marek’s boots faded down the corridor, the two girls moved like clockwork.
In the center of the room, surrounded by stolen silks and cold stone, Clara and Seraphina faced each other. Their eyes were rolled back, their faces blank. Following the Master's final command, they reached out. Clara’s small, soft hands and Seraphina’s calloused, warrior’s fingers met their marks.
The room was silent except for the rhythmic sound of their breathing and the friction of skin. Because they were "Combat Assets," they were efficient at everything—even this. They worked with a mechanical precision that lacked any true heat, their bodies responding to the physical stimuli while their minds remained trapped in the Green Void.
The Break
Clara was the first to reach the edge. Her body arched, and a hollow, hypnotic moan escaped her lips. "For... the... Master..." she whispered, her fingers twitching against Seraphina.
As the surge of pleasure hit Seraphina’s body a moment later, the intense physical sensation acted like a lightning bolt to her brain. It was the final "shock" her system needed. The chemical spike of the climax collided with the wall of her Knight’s resolve.
Snap.
Seraphina’s eyes didn't just slide down; they snapped open, burning with a terrifying, lucid clarity. Her pupils constricted as she looked at her own hands, then at Clara.
She let out a sharp, ragged gasp, pulling her hand away as if she’d been burned. The fog was gone. The "Master’s" voice in her head was nothing more than a pathetic, distant echo. She was Seraphina Thorne, Knight of the Iron Rank, and she had been violated.
The Glass Wall
"Clara?" Seraphina whispered, her voice trembling with a mixture of horror and fury. She grabbed Clara’s shoulders, shaking her. "Clara! Look at me! He’s gone! The Master is gone!"
But Clara didn't respond. Her eyes remained rolled back into her head, her face settling into that eerie, vacant smile. Her body was still twitching from the forced climax, but her mind was still firmly locked in the Green Void.
"The... Master... is... the... Light..." Clara droned, her voice a flat, dead monotone. "I... must... wait... for... the... Reward..."
Seraphina felt a sob rise in her throat. She realized then that while her own "Iron" will had been strong enough to break the hypnosis through physical shock, Clara’s mind was different. Clara’s trauma ran deeper. To Clara, the hypnosis wasn't just a cage—it was a place where the fire of her past couldn't reach her. She was deeper in the "Green" than Seraphina had ever been.
"I’m going to get you out, Clara," Seraphina hissed, wiping the tears from her face as she looked toward the door. She heard the distant clank of Marek returning.
With a surge of self-control, Seraphina rolled her eyes back into her head and resumed her submissive pose, kneeling beside the still-entranced Clara. She had to play the part for one more night. She had to wait for the moment his guard was down.
Tonight, the Knight would be faking her smile. And tomorrow, she would be sharpening her steel.
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