She stood before the mirror again.
Not the public one in her sanctified garden pavilion. Not the one meant for the faithful to glimpse their own "purity." This was a private reflection—half-shadowed, hidden in her personal sanctum within the Celestial Citadel.
And what it showed her made her breath catch.
Her nightgown clung between her thighs, soaked. Her skin glistened in the candlelight, nipples visibly hard beneath the thin fabric. Her hair was tousled, lips parted from the way she had woken—moaning. Again.
Saint Mirana, the Voice of Purity, trembled as she touched her lips.
"I said his name in my sleep..."
It wasn't the first time. Nor the second. For the past three nights, she had awoken tangled in soaked sheets, her hands halfway between her thighs, her voice still echoing that forbidden name.
"Kael…"
Just saying it sent a shiver through her chest. He was supposed to be dead. Executed for lust. Burned from the sacred record like a stain.
But she could feel him.
Not in memory.
In presence.
She gripped the basin. Her legs were weak again. Her body was betraying her. The prayers she whispered each night did nothing. The cleansing rituals? Useless. She had even requested a day of silence and fasting, but her thoughts only became louder.
He touches me in my dreams.
And I let him.
No—worse.
She needed him to.
Far below Heaven's gates, I opened my eyes with a smile.
[Target: Saint Mirana – Virgin Purity 73% → 59%]
[Sin Points +25 | Emotional Disruption Triggered]
[Milestone Achieved: Three Consecutive Wet Dreams – Astral Access Expanded]
The system pulsed at my fingertips, the chapel around me humming with the heat of residual sin. The red-soaked altar glowed from the Veil I'd corrupted and the Lust Catalyst I'd left soaked in seed. Her essence was now part of this ruin.
Every time she came in her sleep, her energy fed into the structure.
Every time she whispered my name, her divinity bent a little more.
[New Function Unlocked: Seduction Tree – Tier I]
✦ Passive: Voice of Temptation – Causes involuntary arousal in targets during conversation.
✦ Active: Phantom Touch Lv.1 – Project stimulation into dreamstate zones.
✦ Passive: Desecration Aura – Presence slowly taints sacred areas and relics.
She had given me these gifts without even opening her legs yet.
And I would make her beg before I took them apart.
That night, the dream-gate opened with a new kind of hunger.
The chapel faded.
I stepped through into her mind—and found myself in a conjured garden of moonlight and soft petals. Everything was pale silver, unreal. Dreamlike. A place of peace.
It wasn't mine.
It was hers.
She sat in a pool of starlight, arms wrapped around her knees, eyes open and glassy. Her nightdress fluttered around her like clouded silk. She was barefoot, vulnerable, holy.
She didn't see me—yet. But I didn't rush.
I watched her body first.
Her thighs trembled subtly. Her chest rose too fast. Her lips were slightly parted, moist and red from soft gasps.
She was already wet.
She knew I would come.
"Kael…"
Her whisper cracked the dream.
I stepped forward, letting her feel me before she saw me. My presence pressed against the edges of her will like fingers curling around a glass.
She turned slowly.
When her eyes met mine, she didn't scream.
She sighed.
"I thought you wouldn't come tonight," she said softly.
"And you hoped I would," I replied.
Her cheeks flushed, but she didn't deny it.
"I can't control it anymore," she whispered. "I touch myself in my sleep now. I wake up… dripping. My sheets ruined. I say your name even during prayer."
She buried her face in her hands.
"What is happening to me?"
I reached out and gently pulled her hands away from her face.
She didn't resist.
"You're becoming honest."
"This is a sin," she whispered.
"No," I said, voice low. "This is freedom."
I let my fingers trail across her cheek, down her neck, until they hovered just above her breast. She arched ever so slightly—then caught herself.
But the damage was done.
Her nipples hardened visibly. Her breath hitched.
[Sin Points +10]
[Resistance Drop: 59% → 54%]
"I shouldn't let you touch me…"
"But you want to."
Her silence was answer enough.
I knelt before her, close enough for her knees to part slightly. I let my hand fall slowly—agonizingly—to the hem of her nightgown. My fingers brushed her inner thigh.
She gasped, shivering.
Her hips twitched forward, betraying her holy resolve.
Her breath came faster now, skin warm beneath my palm. I didn't push inside her. Not yet.
Instead, I invoked the system:
Phantom Touch: Active
She arched backward, fingers clenching in the grass.
Invisible lips kissed her clit. Slow, pulsing pressure lapped in rhythmic strokes across her entrance.
She moaned.
Loudly.
Her hips bucked against nothing as the pleasure surged.
She was leaking now—pure divine nectar, hot and uncontrollable, soaking her dream-dress and running down her thighs. Her hands gripped her own breasts, squeezing instinctively.
"Oh… oh gods," she gasped.
"You're mine," I whispered, rising over her.
She didn't deny it.
She just moaned again, a high cry of helpless bliss—
—and then she came.
Hard.
Violently.
Her legs locked around nothing. Her back arched like a bow. Her halo cracked with flickering golden light, and from her open mouth spilled a sacred scream of ecstasy.
[Sin Points +35]
[Corruption Event: Dream Orgasm Triggered | Barrier Weakening Accelerated]
[Purity Threshold: 47%]
When the dream faded, she curled up and began to cry softly.
"I can't stop," she whispered. "I don't want to stop."
I kissed her brow.
"You're already mine, Mirana. This is only the beginning."
Mirana awoke soaked.
Again.
Her bed was drenched, her body trembling with the aftershocks of another climax. The satin sheets clung to her thighs. Her nipples were stiff beneath her nightgown, and a low, shameful ache pulsed between her legs—one that holy magic could not cleanse.
She sat up slowly, legs crossed, arms wrapped around her body like she could trap the sin inside. But it was no use.
Her lips parted in a whisper, breathless, shaky:
"Kael…"
That name had become a wound and a balm all at once. It bled from her prayers, echoed in her hymns, haunted her meditations. And no matter how hard she tried to forget, he came to her every night.
He touched her like no one else dared.
He didn't ask for her devotion.
He demanded her surrender.
And what terrified her the most… was that she had begun to crave it.
Far below, I stood in the corrupted chapel as a soft tremor ran through the ruined altar.
[Astral Sync Achieved: Mind-Link 31% Stable]
[Physical World Feedback Detected: Target Orgasm in Waking State]
[Sin Points +45 | Divine Will Disruption Ongoing]
A new pulse surged through my demonic core. I could feel her arousal bleeding into the sacred bond Heaven had once forged to keep its maidens pure.
Now it was a channel for desire.
Her desire.
And I could do more than whisper from here on out.
[New Ability Acquired: Echo Touch (Lv. 1)]
Allows projection of sensation or whispered commands into waking consciousness via active Mind-Link.
⚠ Warning: Overuse may cause target to hallucinate, collapse, or experience spontaneous climax.
I grinned.
Perfect.
The next morning, Saint Mirana stood in the Hall of Justice beside the other Maidens. She was supposed to be meditating in silence as the High Virtue channeled divine law over the gathered acolytes.
But her thoughts weren't on duty.
They were on the hands she swore she'd never feel again.
"You're mine, Mirana."
His voice echoed in her mind as if whispered from just behind her ear.
She gasped softly.
An acolyte turned toward her, confused.
Mirana shut her eyes.
"Not now," she whispered under her breath, clutching her staff tighter.
But then it came again—a pulse between her legs.
Soft. Rolling. Like the wet press of a tongue against her swollen clit.
Her knees buckled.
She barely held herself upright.
[Echo Touch: Minor Pulse – Target Arousal Spike Detected]
[Sin Points +10 | Physical Control Disruption: 7%]
The High Virtue looked over, concerned. "Saint Mirana, are you unwell?"
She swallowed hard.
"I… I feel faint."
A lie. Or maybe not.
She was faint—with heat.
With want.
With him.
Hours later, she retreated to her private sanctum and fell to her knees before her holy shrine.
She gripped the edge of the altar.
Tears fell from her eyes, dripping onto the gold-woven carpet below. But her hands wouldn't stop shaking.
Neither would her thighs.
She tried to speak a cleansing prayer, but her lips wouldn't form the words.
Her breath hitched.
And then she felt him again.
Phantom Touch: Moderate Pressure
A slow, firm stroke pressed along the soaked slit of her womanhood, even through her clothes. Her head fell back. Her mouth opened in a silent moan.
"Kael," she gasped. "Please… please stop…"
But she spread her legs anyway.
Her hand slipped beneath her robes. She didn't even know she was doing it until her fingers found her heat—and the moment she touched herself, she came instantly, violently, sobbing his name into her shrine.
The shrine to the Seven Pure Ones.
Defiled by her own nectar.
[Sin Points +60]
[Target Emotional State: Collapsing | Virgin Will Resistance 47% → 39%]
[Mirana has reached the Lust Vulnerability Threshold]
[System Notice: Real-World Touch Permission Pending]
I opened my eyes slowly in the chapel, breath steady.
It was time.
No more dreams.
No more illusions.
She was ready to feel my hands on her for real.
But I wouldn't go to her yet.
I wanted her to crawl.
That night, she didn't sleep.
She paced her chambers, skin flushed, her nightgown already stained with arousal that no prayer could cleanse. Her breath came fast, shallow.
Her reflection looked back at her—red-faced, swollen, trembling.
"Why is this happening to me… why can't I stop thinking about him?"
She touched her own cheek where I had kissed her in the dream.
It still burned.
Then her eyes widened.
There was a shadow in the corner of her room. Flickering. Familiar.
"Kael…?"
But when she stepped toward it, it vanished.
Still, her body reacted.
Her nipples tightened.
Her folds clenched.
Her thighs pressed together.
[System Alert: Target has begun experiencing Hallucinated Manifestations]
[Next Phase Available: Real-World Ritual of First Contact]
My chapel pulsed with energy.
Chains writhed along the walls, and the corrupted statue of her likeness—now weeping blackened nectar—smiled with open lips.
It was time to begin the Ritual of First Contact.
But it wouldn't be me who touched her first.
No.
I would send a message.
A proof of power.
A memory made flesh.
She fell to her knees in front of her mirror again.
This time, she pulled her nightgown up on her own.
No dream. No illusion.
Just a saint, alone, wet and desperate.
She spread her thighs wide.
She whispered my name like a confession.
And then she begged.
"Please… just touch me. I can't do it anymore. I need…"
Her voice broke.
A pulse of shadow spilled from her mirror.
Just a flicker.
Just enough.
An invisible tongue licked her clit—real, warm, corrupt.
She screamed in bliss.
[Sin Points +85 | Virgin Resistance at 31%]
[Milestone Achieved: Conscious Consent to Desire]
[Saint Mirana: Claimed Emotionally | Physically Vulnerable]
Soon.
Very soon.
I would walk through the gates of Heaven and take her myself.
But not before I watched her crack just a little more.
And next time, she wouldn't be alone in her bed.
She'd wake up with my mark on her.
Inside her.