[Yeaaah, if he wants this woman going crazy on him to be a private matter, he'll have to do that himself, because Jill doesn't care who sees her lose it.]
From his eyes and feelings now, the woman sees it all. In his shoes, and only her who can see such things, while being unable to move, to talk, to take her mind away from the scene.
Vlad is depressed. He feels ill, he feels unappreciated. So he goes to his mistress, a beautiful woman who loves him so much she does anything he asks in the bedroom, hoping to please him and make him happy.
Downtrodden, not quite in the mood for carnal pleasures, she clings to him and kisses at his ears and neck, though it does nothing. Finally, thinking her plan flawless, she tells him she is pregnant, and that the child is his.
Her plan is not a sound one, for the prince calls in two matrons to inspect her. No? She is not with child? The woman, Vlad, she feels it all, tells them to leave.
He takes a knife from his side and slits his mistress from gash to chin. How dare she lie.
He takes his leave, the sounds of her agonizing death nothing but an irritation in his ears, not unlike a fly that simply will not shoo.]
[It's the sensation that gets to her. The stifling feeling of suppression, a complete loss of control -- it induces the impulse to resist, but it's backed by a brief spike of old fear, first and foremost, quickly swallowed by rage and natural reflex.
The vision is secondary, although no less effective. She feels sick, disgusted, angry, but there's no attempt to cry out, no looming threat of passing out from the horror of it all. If anything, it just fuels her efforts to get out from under the mental chokehold.]
[Oho, fear! There is fear within her, he can sense it, he can feel it, he can almost smell it radiating from the bits of her mind, from the parts of her still-beating heart, from the very pores of her scalp and chest...it is, as it always is, beautiful.]
You can be like her, you know.
Would you like another?
[She has two choices. She can end the feed if she can muster the strength to move quick enough, or she can say what her mind is screaming at her mouth to move, forcing the words: "Yes, please, I would like another." She only has a split-second to make that decision, however.]
[She doesn't respond. She can't, not without losing what little focus she still has on her will.
She won't let it turn into panic, but the more she feels that pull towards something not her, the faster her brain moves and nerves attempt to fire and she can't keep up and just has to move--
God, no--
In a jerking, uneven motion that seems to take everything in her -- because it does -- even without the breathless sound it incites, she snatches the tablet up and flings it against the nearest wall -- which, luckily, also turns it off despite the lack of strength in the action.]
You son of a bitch.
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I'm not trying to frighten you. I'm telling you.
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And who are you, exactly, to demand such a thing? What power do you hold, hmm?
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Oh hell no]
I said--
[And she looks directly at him]
I don't put up with bullshit.
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From his eyes and feelings now, the woman sees it all. In his shoes, and only her who can see such things, while being unable to move, to talk, to take her mind away from the scene.
Vlad is depressed. He feels ill, he feels unappreciated. So he goes to his mistress, a beautiful woman who loves him so much she does anything he asks in the bedroom, hoping to please him and make him happy.
Downtrodden, not quite in the mood for carnal pleasures, she clings to him and kisses at his ears and neck, though it does nothing. Finally, thinking her plan flawless, she tells him she is pregnant, and that the child is his.
Her plan is not a sound one, for the prince calls in two matrons to inspect her. No? She is not with child? The woman, Vlad, she feels it all, tells them to leave.
He takes a knife from his side and slits his mistress from gash to chin. How dare she lie.
He takes his leave, the sounds of her agonizing death nothing but an irritation in his ears, not unlike a fly that simply will not shoo.]
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The vision is secondary, although no less effective. She feels sick, disgusted, angry, but there's no attempt to cry out, no looming threat of passing out from the horror of it all. If anything, it just fuels her efforts to get out from under the mental chokehold.]
Reply
You can be like her, you know.
Would you like another?
[She has two choices. She can end the feed if she can muster the strength to move quick enough, or she can say what her mind is screaming at her mouth to move, forcing the words: "Yes, please, I would like another." She only has a split-second to make that decision, however.]
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She won't let it turn into panic, but the more she feels that pull towards something not her, the faster her brain moves and nerves attempt to fire and she can't keep up and just has to move--
God, no--
In a jerking, uneven motion that seems to take everything in her -- because it does -- even without the breathless sound it incites, she snatches the tablet up and flings it against the nearest wall -- which, luckily, also turns it off despite the lack of strength in the action.]
Reply
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