Angel on my shoulder, devil in my rear

My story is pretty similar to most other goth girls. I watched *The Nightmare Before Christmas* as a kid and came out weird on the other side. My family’s last bit of hope for a happy, well-adjusted daughter died after we were assigned *Frankenstein* in my freshman English class. After that it was all chokers and eyeliner.

We fought about it from time to time, my mom especially. She always scolded me not to wear the cross on my necklace upside down and to put on something with a little color on it. It was never serious enough that I felt the need to cut everyone out, but it was enough that I became distant.

Luckily there were a few other girls at my school who had pretty similar experiences. Either they didn’t get along with their parents, or their parents didn’t get along with each other. So we did what teenagers do when they don’t have a support network and made a little family of our own. We hung out pretty much every day, and there was always someone to talk to when things were getting rough.

Morgan was my best friend out of any of them. If our group was a family then we were twin sisters. We always ate lunch together and sat next to each other in classes. We walked home together every day after school, talking about the edgiest songs we could find and pining over boys and complaining about our families.

One of my clearest memories of her is when she was spending the night at my house and she confessed that she was a witch. It was far past midnight and I could only see her face in the blue light of a muted movie. She only told me in the smallest peep imaginable but it still sent my heart racing. My parents were religious enough that they might have thrown her out of the house, or worse, given her a 3AM lecture and called her parents. I never knew how seriously I should have been taking it at the time, if it was just rebellious fun or if she really wanted me to believe she could talk to ghosts or see into the future.

I played along regardless. I learned to read tarot cards and played with ouija boards. I even wore at a pentagram necklace that Morgan gave me, hiding it as best as I could. The fun of it was two-fold. The little act of rebellion, even unknown and unacknowledged, thrilled me. It was also something between just me and her. We were our own little secret society and it was fun to pretend we alone were the masters of the universe.

When we graduated it looked like we were going our separate ways. I got a full ride to a liberal arts college on the East Coast and she was westward bound. It broke my heart, but I couldn’t turn down the offer. I had to take a break from my goth eyeliner obligations because I was crying so much. She showed up to my house as I was loading all of my stuff into a rental truck. We said our goodbyes, promising to see each other by Thanksgiving.

She gave me a book to remember her by. It looked completely unremarkable, a smooth, black leather cover with no writing on it. “It’s just a little something for my favorite witch,” she said after my dad went back inside to get another box. I put it in my backpack and pressed it to my heart for nearly to entire drive. My dad told me it wasn’t going to fly through the windshield all of the sudden. I even slept with it like a teddy bear after I was all moved into my dorm.

It was about a week before I worked up the nerve to open it. Every page was full of spells and rituals, and it was suddenly like I was at home again. I felt my necklace getting warm as I flipped through the pages, like it was Morgan’s heart beating against mine.

Life got in the way about halfway through the semester. I was constantly busy studying so I didn’t have time for my nightly reading or to call Morgan regularly. I stopped thinking about it until final exams. I found the book in my desk drawer when I was looking for a pencil. Studying for calculus could wait.

I found a spell for good luck. The ingredients were simple, just salt and a few herbs. I planned to cast it while my roommate was out, if only for nostalgia’s sake. An opportunity came up the night before my first exams. My roommate was spending the night at her boyfriend’s dorm, leaving me all alone for more time than I knew what to do with. “Dark father watch over me,” I chanted in the incantation’s finale before giggling uncontrollably. A bleak feeling sprung up as soon as I restrained my laughter. A draft wound through the room, forming goosebumps on my snowy skin.

My exams went well all that week, so I guessed it worked. I found myself rubbing the necklace between my fingers before each test. In spite of this, I could never shake the feeling that someone was watching me, especially at night. I went out to the campus’s bars with some friends to celebrate the semesters end and I was constantly looking over my shoulder on the way back, even though I was surrounded by half a dozen other people. I was certain that something had to be lurking in the alleyway or behind the bushes.

The next night I brought a boy back to the dorm, a tall senior with a cute mess of blonde hair. He told me he had a thing for goths and was more than willing to buy me a few beers. Being horny and wanting someone to walk home with me definitely didn’t hurt his chances either. My roommate was already home for the holidays, so I didn’t have to worry about sneaking him in.

I tossed my coat down at the end of my bed before throwing myself down beside it. I pealed my black dress off, revealing a matching bra and underwear. My porcelain skin glowed in the soulless fluorescent light as I got fully naked. I wore nothing but Morgan’s necklace as I beckoned him on top of me.

“The whole Satanism thing is hot,” he told me. I didn’t say anything in response, but it made no difference to him. He practically made a race of getting his belt off and his shirt over his shoulders. He had a medium build with an appealing hint of muscularity. He pinned me down as he fucked me. The loss of control made my face burn. His gin-laden breath tingled along my neck as he dug his lips into me. I dug pitch nails into his back in ravenous response. He didn’t leave an inch of my skin unexplored, his hands charting the territory of my body like an obsessive cartographer taking a dozen measurements of every field. His hands constantly went back to my ass, squeezing and molding each cheek. His fingers crept closer to my asshole each time they returned. I could tell he wanted to fuck me back there, but he didn’t push it. I didn’t say anything about it. I was happy to just let him keep fucking me, to let him plunge deep inside of me and throb against the warm walls of my pussy. After a while the throbbing became a wave of forceful pulses and a warm feeling spread inside my cunt. His breath was hot on my cheeks as he rocked slowly inside me. “I just finished,” he whispered.

“Okay,” I muttered. I couldn’t think of anything else. A few minutes later he was putting his clothes on and getting ready to head out. I mustered a little goodbye and he was out the door. I didn’t even catch his name. I decided that was the most thrilling aspect of the encounter.

“Dark father watch over me,” I sighed as I tossed myself back in bed. The metal necklace still glowed warmly against my bare skin. I wondered why it didn’t cool down as quickly as I did, but I didn’t have long to think about it before I drifted off.

A black figure loomed out of my dreams, constantly shifting at the edges. Morgan emerged from the darkness, her jet-dyed hair barely discernible from it. She was completely naked, and her pale body acted as a mirror to my own. “He’s coming,” she announced with a salacious grin, walking steadily toward me. Her face came within an inch of my own and she traced her fingers along my cheek.

I woke up with a shutter. I looked over to the end of my bed to find Morgan’s book lying open. “Charm of Recall” read the header. “Summon the person or entity who you presently need most.”

“Morgan.”

Within the hour I was lighting candles and drawing a pentagram on the floor. “Dark lord, thy will I serve. Bring me an ally in my time of need.”

I jolted back as the floor in the circle began to bubble. The primordial figure from my dream rose from the boiling circle. It slowly solidified into a tall, muscular man, completely unclothed. His skin was a radiant shade of scarlet and curling, ebony horns crowned his head.

Another figure clamored from the tar-colored ooze, a pair of delicate white hands followed by a familiar face. She rested on her knees beside the triumphant figure with a smaller pair of charcoal horns peaking out from her hair.

“As requested,” the figure said with a contractual inflection.

“M-morgan?” I quavered as I stepped back.

“Yes,” she gave the same devilish grin as in my dream, “Join me. *Sister.*”

I collapsed to my knees before I could give myself any time to think about it. “Do you pledge yourself to me?” the figure asked with cold indifference.

“Thy will I serve, master,” I said, provoking a pleased look from Morgan. Another will supplanted my own. I crawled forward and laid my lips against his ruby member. Long, manicured fingers wove into the curls of my hair and forced the demon’s cock further and further down my throat. My jaw stretched to take it all in. Morgan’s gentle grip ushered me up and down his shaft while my tongue twirled and tasted along the way. The skin was feverishly hot. My will was my own again but I kept going, salivating up and down again and again before drawing my lips apart and licking along the tip. I ran my tongue in delicate circles around it.

“Turn over,” the master ordered. Morgan gave me an assuring nod. I flipped over to my hands and knees, offering my pale, slender body completely to him. I felt the head of his spear tease between my cheeks before thrusting directly into my asshole. It entered forcefully but smoothly, quickly filling my vulnerable hole. The ring of my pulsing muscles struggled against his cock as he dragged it in and out of me, creating an aching pillar of sensual friction. I groaned and scraped my fingers against the remaining floor tiles. His mighty hands wrapped around my waist as he gathered momentum, pounding in and out of me and transforming my groaning into unrestrained squealing. My whole body shivered with cold euphoria. His pelvis slammed against my rear as he plummeted completely inside of me, sending me shaking with another wave of throes. His hard cock throbbed mercilessly inside of my ass, erupting in a trio of surges of hot cum. I whimpered helplessly as the master defiled me. He pulled out of me and I fell limply to the floor.

My head rested in front of a tall mirror. Morgan’s silvery reflection tended to me, petting my tangled hair. A tiny growth of horn poked out from the strands.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/gk0gf7/angel_on_my_shoulder_devil_in_my_rear