Round 22

The magical barrier flickered ominously as Hera watched in horrified fascination. The makeshift performance outside was working—she could see the officers' expressions shift from suspicion to genuine unease. But the cost was too high; Jeane's writhing against the barrier, choked and controlled by Silra's brutal grip while brandishing a sex toy like a holy relic, was beyond disturbing. Each pulse of Halie's failing spell sent fresh waves of forced arousal through the room, making it clear that something far more dangerous than mere magic was at work here.

This is sick—how did we get here? Hera thought desperately. How did Jeane let things go so far? She could feel her own body responding traitorously to the ambient magic, a fact that only increased her horror and confusion. The officers outside were clearly conflicted now—unease warring with something that looked almost like... fascination? Or was it disgust? She couldn't tell through the translucent film of magic separating them.

Focus, Hera told herself firmly. Find a way out of this before someone gets seriously hurt—or arrested. But her exhausted body refused to cooperate, leaving her frozen in place as the situation spiraled further out of control.