pornographic mirror

Anne bought a large mirror at the antique shop and was in a very good mood. There were three reasons: first, the price was reasonable; second, the mirror was very beautiful; and third, the young male shop assistant was very handsome and seemed to like her, and she liked him too. The third reason might have even contributed to the first. He liked her so much that he sold it to her at a particularly low price. He even personally delivered the mirror and installed it on her wall. Anne really hoped he would ask her out and become friends. But he didn't. He didn't suggest it, and she felt too embarrassed to bring it up; after all, she was a woman. Perhaps she would try going back to his shop in a few days to buy something. Anne slowly took off her clothes in front of the large mirror, admiring its beauty. After all, a mirror is just a mirror, just a large piece of glass with mercury coated on the back—they're all pretty much the same. The beauty lies in the frame. This frame was very beautiful, very antique, made of wood, with intricate carvings, and painted gold, like bronze, but it was actually wood. Anne stripped naked and stood in front of the mirror, raising one leg and resting it on the back of a chair in front of it. Because her leg was raised high, she could see a place she wouldn't normally see. This mysterious place, though she wouldn't normally show it to others, also had parts that even she herself couldn't see if she wanted to. That was the area below her vulva, visible only in the mirror. Next to it was a natural birthmark, brownish-red, a stark contrast to the pale white of her leg. While this area was naturally dark, the birthmark was even darker. Looking at herself like this, she wondered again if her future lover or husband would find it objectionable. Perhaps the beauty of the rest of her body could compensate? She was still a virgin, with no such experience, so she couldn't be sure. Suddenly, a man appeared in the mirror, startling her. Although this was the man who sold her the mirror, and she liked him, his appearance in this situation still made her extremely embarrassed. She quickly covered her upper and lower body with her hands as much as possible, saying, "You...how did you get in?" He just gave her a mysterious smile. She turned around and said, "You can't just barge in like this—" She couldn't finish her sentence because there was no one behind her. She thought the reflection in the mirror was a mirror image, so he must be behind her, but there was no one there. She turned around again, but she still saw him in the mirror. He reached out his hand and said, "Come on, come with me, I will make you very happy!" As if hypnotized, she involuntarily reached out and took his hand. Just like that, she was dragged into the mirror. Annie discovered that the mirror was another wonderful realm. It was a boundless place, and she could no longer see her own room. The floor was white, with a soft carpet, and everywhere she looked, white mist was rising. The young man said, "Annie, take my clothes off." Normally, Anne would feel resentful about this, because he should be the one doing her the service. But now she didn't feel that way; she did whatever he asked. He lay down, relaxing and accepting Anne's service. Anne had never undressed a man before, and now, doing so, she felt clumsy, but she still took them off for him. The last thing she removed was his briefs; she could already see something huge throbbing inside. She knew what it was, but she had never seen it before. If she undressed him now, she could see it. And indeed, she saw it. It was the ugliest yet most beautiful thing; ugly because of its repulsive appearance, beautiful because of her intense need for it. It throbbed, and a little clear fluid seeped from the reddish-purple glans, as if inviting her. She involuntarily lowered her head, opened her mouth, and stuck out her tongue, tasting and enjoying it. It throbbed more violently and swelled even larger. Then, he shifted his body so that his head was facing opposite to hers, and he was beneath her. At this moment, Anne could see what his face was closest to and most clearly. His face was directly opposite her vulva, and he must have seen the birthmark as well. She temporarily pulled her mouth away and asked, "Am I... ugly?" "No!" he said, "Not ugly at all. No one is perfect!" Then she felt his mouth rise up, and his hands moved, reaching down to cup her breasts. The two peaks of her breasts were extremely sensitive, and his touch sent the sensitivity through her entire body. And his tongue was moving on another, even more sensitive spot—her clitoris. All three of her most sensitive spots were being stimulated, driving her almost mad. Her mouth involuntarily worked even harder. She was so excited that she wanted to bite something hard, but she couldn't bear to bite down on what was in her mouth. Her body convulsed wildly, and soon she trembled violently as if an electric current were coursing through her. She could no longer bear his tongue; it was too sensitive. She had reached her first orgasm. But at this moment, his tongue also stopped moving. She went limp, wanting to do nothing more. He crawled out from under her and turned her over, making her lie on her back. Anne limply submitted to his manipulation. He knelt down, spread her legs, and lifted them slightly, while he moved forward. From this angle, Anne felt his penis was incredibly powerful, like something out of a war movie she remembered seeing, where a submarine launched torpedoes from the seabed, and the torpedoes hurtled towards the camera, their round heads so terrifying, so threatening. The situation was almost the same. The torpedo arrived and penetrated. It began to insert into her vagina. Anne's body trembled again. Full, such a lovely fullness; if it withdrew now, she would truly die. But not withdrawing also meant death, a different kind of death, a very comfortable one. She had already "died" once before the torpedo broke through that barrier. Afterwards, the torpedoes wreaked havoc, becoming even more devastating, causing her to die again and again.Until the torpedo exploded, a stream of heat shot out, reaching the deepest part of her body. Anne's whole body felt as if it had exploded and ascended, because the heat seemed to flow directly to her heart, so sweet that it was unbearable and exploded. She knew it was semen being ejaculated. She couldn't open her eyes. She only heard him say, "Now, you have to go back." Anne's mouth also wouldn't move; she could only ask in her heart, "Will we... meet again?" She couldn't ask the question, and he didn't answer. She fell asleep. When she woke up, she was already lying in her own bed in her room, sunlight streaming in through the window. She sat up abruptly. The "dream" from last night was so clear in her mind; could it not have been a dream? She looked in the mirror and saw that she was still naked. She didn't dare look in the mirror again for a moment, and looked down at herself. Sure enough, it was, and she saw something terrible: bloodstains left on the sheets. It was coming out on its own. As she sat up, some more flowed out. She reached out and touched it; it was sticky, not her own semen. Although she had never been in contact with it before, she believed it was semen produced by a man, and the blood streaks were hers. She also felt a burning pain; she was no longer a virgin! She jumped out of bed, only then realizing how much pain it caused. The pain made it difficult for her to move quickly; her legs gave way, and she collapsed, landing right in front of the door. She looked up; the door was what she needed to see. She checked the latch; it was closed. It couldn't have been someone sneaking in while she was asleep. The person who broke in couldn't have closed the latch to leave. The window was also out of the question; it was blocked by iron bars, and besides, her apartment was on the twentieth floor. Could it really be the mirror? Annie, enduring the pain between her legs, got up, grabbed a chair, and threw it at the mirror. But, incredibly, the chair bounced back, and the mirror was completely undamaged. Outside the door, her mother called out, "Anne! Anne! What are you doing?" "Nothing!" Anne said, "I just tripped!" "Are you alright?" her mother asked. "I'm fine!" Anne said, "I'm perfectly fine. Don't worry." "You should get up now," her mother said, "We're waiting for you for breakfast!" "Coming," Anne said, "I'll come out after I change my clothes." At noon, Anne reappeared at the antique shop. She descended the stairs and entered the dark shop, which was located in a basement. Only a basement could hold so many quirky items without paying exorbitant rent. She wanted to find that young man; he was truly despicable. If she had asked him politely, she would have given in; why resort to such wicked means? She wanted… she didn't know what she wanted, but she wanted to find him, confront him, and teach him a lesson before she felt at peace. Seeing no one, she called out, "Hey! Is anyone here?" Someone behind her said, "Miss, is there anything I can help you with?" It was a hoarse, raven-like voice that startled her. She quickly turned around and saw a thin, emaciated old man with a wrinkled face. Anne asked, "Who...are you?" "My name is Johnson, everyone calls me Uncle Johnson," the old man said. "This shop is mine." "I'm looking for that young clerk," Anne said. "I bought a mirror here yesterday." "What clerk?" Uncle Johnson asked. "What mirror?" "I bought it here yesterday," Anne said. "A large antique mirror." "I don't understand," Uncle Johnson said. "I have many mirrors here, but I don't have any clerks, just myself. Do you have a receipt?" "No," Anne said. "I paid in cash." "Let me check." Uncle Johnson said, walking around a lot of clutter to the back of the counter, flipping through a thick ledger, then looking up and saying, "Miss, I'm afraid you've made a mistake. I haven't sold a single mirror all month!" Anne left helplessly, and Uncle Johnson grinned and went into a back room. He pushed open a cabinet against the back wall of the room, revealing a secret chamber filled with many strange antiques. Among them was a large mirror, seemingly identical to the one Anne had bought. However, a side-by-side comparison revealed they weren't exactly the same. The difference lay in the frames. Anne's frame had recessed carvings, while this mirror's was convex. Conversely, Anne's convex carvings were recessed. If the two frames were placed side-by-side, the recessed and convex parts would perfectly complement each other, fitting tightly together. Uncle Johnson's mirror was masculine because of a small, protruding head at the top center of the frame, while Anne's frame had a recessed area in this part. Protrusions are easier to identify than recesses. However, without directly aligning the mirror with the large, dark wooden statue, it was still difficult to recognize that this was a statue—a miniature model of the statue's head. Although the black wooden statue was ugly, it had a male organ protruding from its body, which wasn't ugly—by male organ standards. This organ was very well-formed, healthy-looking, and of excellent length and girth. Uncle Johnson stood in front of the mirror, and his reflection appeared. But this reflection wasn't the old man Anne had seen; it was the young man who had possessed her. Uncle Johnson knelt before the mirror and kowtowed, saying, "Karakkadua, thank you for giving me the chance to regain my youth, for giving me a great opportunity." The young man's reflection in the mirror disappeared again, and Uncle Johnson saw Anne's bedroom.

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It seemed this mirror could turn Uncle Johnson into a young man, but if he needed the abilities of a young man, he would still have to rely on the mirror; the real him couldn't formally pursue Anne. Anne's room was empty, except for a few pieces of underwear on the bed. Uncle Johnson continued to watch with great interest. Later, he saw Anne enter the room. Anne was home now, and she had brought back a hammer. She locked the door and began randomly hammering at the mirror. Uncle Johnson laughed loudly, "You can't break it. The power of Karakadua protects it; you can't break it." In Anne's home, she indeed couldn't break it. This was a hammer she had bought specifically for this purpose; she wanted to use it to break the glass of the mirror, but she failed. She hammered until she was covered in sweat, and eventually, even the wooden handle of the hammer broke, the hammerhead flew away, but the mirror remained unbroken. She knelt on the ground and wept. Just then, someone knocked on her door, and her mother called from outside, "Anne! Anne! What are you doing in there?" Anne, bewildered, opened the door. Her mother was with her Aunt Smith. The house had been empty when she returned, but now her mother and Aunt Smith were back. Her mother looked at the room and said in surprise, "Anne, what's wrong? Have you gone mad?" Anne sobbed, "I don't like this mirror! I'm going to break it!" "Look," her mother said, "how willful! You were so happy when you bought it yesterday, and now you want to break it." Mrs. Smith said, "If you don't like it, just take it out and throw it away." "I can't throw it away!" Anne said. She didn't dare explain why she couldn't throw it away; she was afraid some young woman's family would take it, and that would be terrible. She could only say, "I spent so much money to buy it." Her mother said, "Wouldn't it be even more wasteful to break it?" This question left Anne speechless, but Mrs. Smith came to her rescue. She said, "If you don't like it, give it to me. It's a very beautiful mirror." Anne's mother said, "Why give it away? Give it to Mrs. Smith." "Okay," Anne said, "I'll give it to you, but you have to take it right away." "Thank you so much!" said Mrs. Smith. Anne thought it was a very good idea. In her mind, Mrs. Smith was the ugliest and greediest person in the world, so giving it to her was perfect. Let that ghost bother Mrs. Smith and see if she's interested. Since Mrs. Smith was greedy and wanted to take it right away, it was also a good idea for Mrs. Smith. She could move the mirror away before Anne changed her mind. With the mirror gone, Anne could sleep peacefully that night. But she still wouldn't be truly at ease for two months. During that month, she went to see the doctor several times. The doctor confirmed that she was indeed no longer a virgin. But that didn't matter; the most terrible thing was the aftermath—she was afraid she would get pregnant. But time proved that she wasn't. And that person didn't bother her anymore. Without the mirror, there was no disturbance, and she could finally relax. Until that evening, when her mother brought up Mrs. Shoeffer. Her mother said Mrs. Shoeffer was very lucky; a widow in a difficult situation, yet she had landed a well-paying and perfectly suitable job. "What kind of job?"“The housekeeper of Oak Girls’ Boarding School,” her mother said. “Good heavens!” Anne exclaimed. “What?” her mother said. “Aren’t you happy for her?” “When…when did this happen?” Anne asked, almost breathless, unable to speak. “The day after you gave her the mirror,” her mother said. “Then…then…where is the mirror?” Anne asked. “She certainly took it with her,” her mother said. “She’s moving to the school. Would she throw away such a beautiful mirror? And she never throws anything away!” “Good heavens!” Anne said in horror. “Good heavens!” The mirror was indeed taken by Mrs. Shoeffer and hung in the middle of the dormitory hall. Every boarding girl passed by, and girls love to look in the mirror. Every one of them had looked in the mirror, and therefore, Uncle Johnson had seen every girl. The mirror in his secret room was the other half; he could go out from his mirror and see where the other mirror was, and do whatever he wanted. That evening, Uncle Johnson waited in front of the mirror again. He murmured, "They're all so young and fresh, but unfortunately, not many are truly beautiful. But today, finally, a beautiful one has arrived!" His mind was filled with fond memories. These girls were all sixteen or seventeen-year-old virgins, and he had already possessed seven of them. Each body possessed a different kind of beauty, and he could enjoy them at will. The most delightful thing was the blood afterwards—sometimes a lot, sometimes very little. As he thought this, the new girl appeared. She was beautiful, with long, oily, golden hair. She wore a white nightgown, the standard pajamas in the dormitory, but she wasn't wearing anything underneath, which was against the rules, and it was also against the rules that she was out at night. As if hypnotized, she came to the mirror, and in the mirror appeared the handsome young man, the same one Anne had met. He smiled at her and reached out his hand. She took his hand, and he pulled her into the mirror. This young man was actually Uncle Johnson in disguise; it was Uncle Johnson who reached out his hand. He took the girl's hand and entered the mirror, where he had transformed into a handsome young man. They were once again on the endless, pristine white carpet. He pulled up her robe, pulled it over her head, and removed it, revealing her completely—a beautiful body. Her skin was like cream, her hair was golden, and even the pubic hair in her triangle area was golden. She was very willing and lay down on the carpet in a graceful posture. Johnson slowly undressed himself as well. He was clearly very interested in gold. In the past, he always made each girl serve him first, just as Anne had done to him that time. This was something girls usually wouldn't do on their first time, but under his magical influence, they would. And Johnson was most interested in this, giving her the first time and making her do something she wouldn't have done on her first time. But this time, Johnson didn't ask her to do that. He admired her too much. He knelt between her legs, carefully parting them, revealing the golden center, and the tender pink labia minora. It was beautiful, a tender pink, tightly closed in a straight line, neat and clean. He used his fingers to slightly open it, and when he released it, it sprang back to its original shape, so elastic. She was panting, writhing. When Johnson's lips approached, she writhed even more. Writhing, writhing, until she could no longer hold back, her waist arching upwards, letting out a long "ah," her whole body trembling violently, and then she went limp. It was her first orgasm. Johnson didn't hesitate, immediately mounting her. He guided his youthful and powerful penis, aiming at his target, and slowly advanced. Her tightly closed vulva opened for him, but remained very tight. Johnson slowly advanced, and she let out a dreamlike moan. This was a different kind of enjoyment; the previous one was an external enjoyment, this one was a deep enjoyment. Women have this advantage over men, being able to enjoy two different kinds of pleasure. Johnson advanced about a third of the way, and then he could feel resistance. That was her hymen. He continued forward steadily without pausing, and for a moment, the girl's brow furrowed, clearly in slight pain. For some, this barrier is particularly thick, requiring force to break through, which causes pain. The pain accumulates, and so does the resistance, until suddenly it is broken through. This caused Johnson's advance to accelerate sharply, reaching the very end of her vagina in one go. She cried out again, and then her reaction intensified. Having reached the end and unable to go any further, Johnson retreated, but not completely, only partially, then continued forward, retreating again at the end. This thrusting and withdrawing became increasingly rapid until finally, she reached another trembling orgasm. Johnson stopped, waited for her to rest for a while, and then began again. This time, he raised her legs so he could see her vulva. He did this to every girl here, because he could see the blood that came out. She was special; the red against the gold was particularly clear, while the red against the black was not as clear. This angle was incredibly powerful, penetrating deeply, allowing her to reach orgasm even faster. She pleaded, "No, no more... I can't take it!" So Johnson didn't wait any longer, allowing himself to enjoy the final pleasure, ejaculating wildly, making her tremble as if she were about to fall apart. They lay there like that for a long, long time before separating. Johnson couldn't keep her any longer and told her to go home. Johnson said, "You have to go home!" She said, "I love you!" Johnson said, "You can come again tomorrow night." "Really?" she asked. "Really," Johnson said. She was a woman of many tastes, and he decided to enjoy her a few more times. She fell asleep in a daze, waking up already in bed. But her reaction wasn't like Anne's; she savored the experience with infinite sweetness. The next night, this blonde, almost perfect beauty quietly emerged from the room again and went to the mirror. Johnson, transformed into a handsome young man, appeared in the mirror again, reaching out to her. But this time, Anne leaped out of the darkness, standing before her, holding up an ancient painting on parchment, depicting a saint. Johnson screamed in terror and instantly reverted to his original form, shattering the mirror and sending shards falling. The young woman, as if waking from a dream, exclaimed in horror, "I...I shouldn't be here!" "Go back to your room!" Anne whispered. "Mrs. Smith is coming out soon." The young woman hurried back to her room, and Anne followed. Sure enough, Mrs. Smith came out at the sound of her voice and saw that the mirror was completely devoid of glass. She didn't know Anne had done this, though she knew Anne also lived there, having stayed overnight as Anne had come to visit. She also didn't know that Anne had done much work beforehand. Anne had visited many libraries, consulted numerous books, and then gone to a monastery to see the abbot, explaining her situation and borrowing the ancient icon treasured there. Meanwhile, in the antique shop, the appearance of the icon sent Johnson flying back as if struck by lightning, crashing into the ebony statue. He landed right on the statue's organ, breaking it off, and then the statue burst into flames. The fire in the enclosed room went unattended, growing ever stronger. It eventually spread outside, until thick smoke billowed out, finally attracting attention. Because it started in the basement, it was difficult to extinguish, and the fire only went out on its own by dawn. Firefighters entered to search for survivors, knowing the chances were slim, but they did so anyway. They found no survivors, but they found the mirror. The two firefighters stared blankly at the mirror, greatly puzzled. The mirror was perfectly intact. In such a fire, the glass would surely have melted under the intense heat, but it hadn't. The frame, made of wood, was also unburnt. Moreover, some of the original features on the mirror were a portrait, like those on exquisite crystal objects where the carvings were inside the crystal, not on the outside. Both firefighters lived nearby and recognized him. "Isn't that Uncle Johnson's portrait?" "Yes!" Johnson's appearance was also strange, his face filled with a terrified expression, as if he were calling for help but unable to utter a sound. "This is strange!" one of the firefighters said. "Let's move this mirror outside and see what's going on." They carefully moved the mirror outside and placed it on the ground. The sun continued to rise, the shadows shortened, and the sunlight shone directly on the mirror. Just then, the mirror shattered, a wisp of smoke rose, and vanished. The glass of the mirror was completely gone. Afterward, they never found Uncle Johnson's body. When Anne went to the doctor for her next examination, the doctor also discovered something unbelievable. Anne was still a virgin. All along, she had clearly not been. He couldn't explain it, but Anne could explain it, though she wouldn't explain it to him. The girls at the girls' high school were the same. Many of them remembered their past affairs and had always hoped for them to happen again, but after the mirror broke, they suddenly regretted it greatly. They all went to the doctor for examination, but the doctor said they were all virgins, without any problems, and had never been touched by a man. So they all...I believe that what they experienced, though it seemed real, was actually just a dream.

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