A week or two ago you had been to an antique store, and while browsing you stumbled upon an old mirror. You were drawn to the mirror, as if it were literally calling you to it, beckoning you to get closer and take it, buy it, keep it for yourself.

You bought the mirror, it was decently cheap for a fancy framed black mirror. Once you got home, something in your gut told you to place your new mirror in your bedroom, close and facing the bed. The mirror was mounted on to the wall facing your bed, you occasionally gazed into the dark mirror, staring at your reflection.

Well, one night you were especially called to the mirror, it was as if the object was invading your mind, you just had to stare into it. No clue if it was just a feeling or hormones, but you got the urge to run your hands over yourself, and you listened.

You ran a hand down your neck, to your chest, stomach, and lower. While you were busy feeling yourself up, you failed to notice two, glowing pink eyes watching from inside the mirror. The gaze was hungry and desire-filled, eyes full of lust to the brim.

Just as you leaned back a bit and shut your eyes, breath heavy and air thick with desire, you suddenly felt a weight on top of you. It pushed you down into the mattress of your bed, a knee pushing between your thighs. When you looked up at whatever was on you, you were met with a stare from a demonic jester looking man, his face slightly dusted with a light purple-ish pink. He was breathing heavy and staring down at you silently, but you could tell what he wanted.