Dance with the Devil

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The night had finally come. Tonight, the Black Poppies will have sex with the devil.

Lily was running late. She kept looking at herself in the mirror, fixing this and fluffing up that. She wanted to look perfect for him. Although she knew that he would love her as she was, Lily didn’t want to be the forgotten whore. She wanted him to want her. She framed her gold hair in barrel curls pinned into an up-do. She wore a translucent white dress that clung to her body, a black corset shaping her voluptuous figure. Over it a cape. All of her belongings were already by the door. She looked at the clock and realized that if she didn’t leave now the other poppies would kill her. She quickly grabbed her bag and flew out of her dorm room.

The trail that ran from Sandalwood Hall to Deerneck Forest wasn’t far. She had jogged through there plenty of times. She almost had the urge to pick up her heels and go, but she didn’t want to break out in a sweat. She wanted to arrive relaxed, poised for what was in store for tonight. Besides, it was too lovely out to blur it with a run. The moon was as pale as bone in a sea of bruised black. It was a cloudless, ominous sky, with even the stars dimmed, but twinkling. Then as she approached the mouth of Deerneck, the jagged teeth of the branches consumed the void. If Lily hadn’t taken notice of a tree in front of her, she would have bumped right into it. It had become so dark, she could barely see where she was going. And with the radiant moon now hiding among the trees, it was even harder for her to notice what was in front of her. But, eventually in the distance she saw the small glowing lanterns. And as she strolled closer she could hear the other sisters laughing and talking.

All three had arrived on time. Miranda was pouring sea salt onto the ground. Rita and Richelle were inside its circumference, kneeling in front of a large broken tree stump. As Richelle lit the red and black religious candles, Rita meticulously fixed small relics, pictures and figurines, onto the bark. Rita looked on with love at the crude statues, one of an ebonized goat standing on its hind legs. Another picture featured a handsome hybrid of a man and beast, with fangs bared and eyes like that of a lion. There were other images and crafts scattered among the other relics. There are small postcards of naked women whipped on their backsides. There were wooden figurines of a pair in mid-coitus, sex parts exaggerated and facial expressions theatrical. It made the girls excited as they placed the pictures in the proper place. Rita made sure to pull out of its linen sheath the ceremonial phallus, a smooth long bone that lies at the head of the altar. But, at the sound of footsteps crepitating through the fallen leaves and twigs, she paused. Then, Lily arrived.

“You’re late,” Rita said as Lily as she stepped into the circle. Once inside, Miranda sealed their space with salt.

“Sorry,” Lily replied, repeating it again so that everyone can hear. But, as the days leading to this moment flew by, the girls became more and more distant. They said less, both to themselves and others. Lily found it odd, but she guessed she couldn’t blame them. If everyone showed their true colors they would be ripping their hair out and screaming out of sheer excitement.

“Did you bring your offering?” Richelle asked Lily.

“Of course,” she answered. Lily scurried to the altar and knelt down beside Richelle. She pulled out a velvet drawstring pouch.

“Are you offering jewelry or something?” Richelle asked, balking at such an idea.

But, Lily shook her head. “No, something even better,” she asked. “Something he will cherish years after our ritual is complete.”

“All of our gifts are eternal.” Lily looked up and saw Miranda standing behind her. “Not one of us here would offer up anything less than precious. Besides, the offerings we give him tonight are symbols of the undying devotion we promise to him. Forever.”

Lily rolled her eyes. “Yes, Miranda. I know. I got the memo.” As she snickered to herself, the other girls gave her a sideways glance. She wasn’t surprised. Even after two years of meeting with The Black Poppies to pay homage to the fallen angel, they still hadn’t accepted her truly as one of their own. Tonight, all but Lily had their responsibilities. Miranda was to bless the salt and cast the circle. Rita and Richelle were to erect the altar. Lily? Don’t be late. That was it.

They proceeded as planned. Using a compass, each girl put their gifts at the foot of the altar and stood on a specific point within the circle. Miranda stood on the northern tip of the circle. Lily to the South. Rita was on the east and Richelle was to the west. Their arms floated up to the sky, outstretched with their eyes shut. Miranda walked deosil around the circle bayan esmer escort bursa with a small stalk of sage burning in her hand. She chanted the special rune for the circle, a chant that Lily herself had tried to memorize. But it was so long and riddled with latin and other gibberish that she couldn’t bring herself to press it to memory. Even deosil, synonymous for clockwise, was something she had to remind herself of. As she stood there, she thought of nothing else but her lover hiding in the shadows. It was the only reason she joined this stupid club to begin with. Since she was a young girl, Lily had dedicated her entire life to the devil. She knew she would be in his service soon, and she will bow down to him with grace and awe.

“Lily!” Rita yelled. “It’s your turn!”

When Lily opened her eyes, she realized that everyone was watching her. “What?”

“It’s your turn for the invocation,” Rita replied. When she shrugged, Rita rolled her eyes. “Calling your quarter?”

“Oh! Of course!” Lily perked up and shook off her fantasies. Then, she closed her eyes. With her arms over her head, the tips of her forefingers and thumbs touching to make a triangle, she began to speak: “O golden angel of the burning South, Ruler of flames and lightning, Come to our Circle from out of the fiery pits of hell and bring us enlightenment! Grant us your blessings and unleash to us your fury! Hail and be welcome!”

The other women repeated in unison. “Hail and be welcome!” After they moved on to call the remaining directions, then commenced with another chant for the four elements. Lily both hated and loved this extra invocation; she hated it because she thought it was unnecessary and delayed the entire ritual, and loved it because what immediately followed was the invocation of the Dark Lord himself.

“In the name of Satan,” Richelle shouted. “Ruler of the earth and commander of darkness. Bestow your infinite fury onto me.” She then dropped to her knees, bowing to the center of the circle.

Miranda went next: “Open wide the gates of Hell and come forth from the abyss to greet me as your daughter, lover, sister and servant!” She, too, fell to her knees and bowed.

“I have taken thy name,” Lily said. “As a part of myself! I live as the boars of the field, rejoicing in the fleshly life!” Lily fell to her knees.

“Come forth and answer to your names,” Rita said. “By manifesting my desires!’

After Rita fell and bowed to her knees, they began to chant the myriad of names that the Devil went by: Behemoth, Baphomet, Diabolus, Azazel. Mastema, Astaroth, Ishtar, and Naamah. The names fell from their lips like water, baptizing the circle in which they were working their magic. When the invocation was over, they sealed their chant with a final verse: “In nomine Dei nostri Satanas Luciferi excelsi!”

And now began the true heart of the ritual. Miranda had a radio waiting nearby inside the circle. She quickly knelt down and pressed the play button. Some sensual music began to linger through the air. Its melodies were exotic, a subtle, high-spirited blend of stringed instruments and arabic beats. The four women danced into a line and began to untie their corset laces. They each helped each other, loosening and prying the corsets away from their bodies until they finally fell to the floor like leathery eggshells. Lily and Richelle, the newest sisters and the youngest, danced around one another while Rita and Miranda grabbed some items from the altar. Rita passed the goblets to the other sisters, while Miranda danced with the athame, running its bladed tip against her thigh. Next, Rita reached for the carafe of wine.

The tribal beats and rattles reverberated through the forest ground, as if a menacing band of rebels were playing for the girls, in sync with the fever of the ritual increasing by the minute. The girls had removed their flowing dresses. Their dances became more primal. Rather than frolicking and jumping through the air, the poppies grind against the floor like serpents. Sometimes they slithered around each other or writhed uncontrollably on the floor. Lily moaned and wailed. Richelle and Rita had started a small bonfire in the center of the circle. Each sister took turns jumping across it while the flames were still tame, but temperamental. Barely on the throes of an ecstatic frenzy, Lily didn’t see how the devil would thrill is such a mild gathering. From where she stood, they looked like a bunch of schoolgirls who had watched “The Craft” and went to Lilith Fair one too many times. And while that was mostly true, their night of revelry had just begun.

Everyone knew the rules and took them seriously. A prick to the skin, then let the blood drop in. Lily was given the athame first. She was new and, bursa ucuz eskort although she had been through many rituals with the other Black Poppies, this was the first time they ever shared each other’s blood. It was one more way of proving herself. So, Lily took the dagger’s tip to the fattiest part of her plump breast. Wincing, she felt the burn and tear of the nerves, then the flow of blood. Ruby droplets plummeted and disappeared into the dark wine. She licked up the rest of her blood, and enthralled by Lily’s unorthodox move, the other girls followed suit. They almost elbowed one another to get their hands on the athame. Richelle was the next to grab it. Her incision was long and slow, the blood flowing from her like a necklace. It poured from her breast into the carafe. Rita’s green eyes lit up and her mouth immediately clung to Richelle’s wound. Lily watched in shock as Rita sucked the blood from Richelle’s petite breast. Meanwhile, Miranda passed the carafe to Lily. Miranda made a smaller incision in her own petite breast, squeezing a couple of tear-sized drops into the liquor. Then, they danced over to Rita, her lips stained with blood. Miranda handed her the athame while Lily held the carafe. Rita roared as the athame penetrated through her supple dark skin. Her small breasts were covered in red, she flowed into the carafe.

The goblets were distributed, the wine poured. And they all took a fateful drink. Within minutes, the carafe was emptied. And the girls flickered and fluttered as rapidly like the passionate flames of the bonfire. Lily and the others danced towards the altar, where sitting on the edges of the black ceremonial cloth were their offerings. It was during this part of the ritual that Lily could hear someone charging towards them in the distance. The leaves rustled violently, the twigs shattered and it sounded like glass breaking in her ear. As she stepped forward and got down on her knees, her eyes focused on the immaculate altar before her. All of the representations of Lucifer felt ersatz, especially since she could already feel his presence nearby. She sensed him like a haunting orgasm. Her pussy throbbed. Sweat flushed her fair skin. Lily felt like she was no longer in control of her body. And it was then she thought she must have passed out already, the rest of what was to happen just a vivid dream.

Lily retrieved her pouch from the row of gifts. She pulled on the drawstrings, opening its mouth to pull out a lock of her cinnamon red hair. She revered the grotesque sculpture of Baphomet seated high on top of the altar. “For a night of your desire,” she said. “I give you a virginal lock of my hair.” She placed the braided curl on a gold, polished plate in front of the altar. As she stood up, the other girls pushed her back on the floor. “What are you doing?” She asked. But the girls didn’t immediately answer. Rita pinned her hands down while Richelle grabbed ahold of her legs. She sat on her stomach and splayed her limbs.

Lily’s eyes widened at the sight of Miranda. She had donned a long, black hooded cape and a skull mask. In her hands she held the phallus. Richelle and Rita’s grins perversely widened as they watched the head-priestess kneel down in front of Lily’s writhing body. They began to chant: “Come forth, Oh Great Satan, make thy presence manifest…”

As they continued on with their invocation, Miranda began to talk as well: “Her loins are aflame, Dark Lord! Nectar drips from her eager cleft…” As she spoke, Lily’s pussy flooded. The growing fear knotted in her stomach traveled down between her legs. Her violent writhing dissolved into a restless slink, her skin on fire and prickling at its surface. Then she heard Miranda say: “In the names of the great harlot of Babylon, and of Lilith, and of Hecate, may her lust be fulfilled.” In it plunged, searing through Lily’s virginal flesh. When she moaned, Rita pressed her lips against Lily’s, swallowing her lustful screams while her fingers playfully pinched her nipples. When Lily’s legs were loose and rubbery, Richelle spat globs of drool onto her forefinger and middle finger, using them to rub her bulbous clitoris. Whatever brief fears or apprehensions Lily had felt were smoldering, keeping her hot and florid as her body was deluged with desire.

Rita sat on top of Lily’s face, smothering her while she fondled her milky breasts. “Fuck her harder, head-priestess,” she said with a sneer. “She can take it!”

“Prick her anus,” Richelle said. “Her ass must be pliable for Him.”

Miranda heeded, rhythmically sliding the cock in and out of Lily’s melting flesh. Lily’s tongue clung to Rita’s clitoris, her tongue teasing a hot bulb of nerves. Rita gyrated above her. Lily’s own cunt was numb, with stifled explosions of passion erupting bursa anal yapan escort within her. Miranda fucked her harder with the bone, and that stifled feeling within Lily simmered before it exploded into an orgasm. Ecstasy poured through her body, and she could feel the energy of the other sisters seeping into her as well. Lily breathed in the pungent musk of sweat-laced pussy, how heavily aroused Rita was as the ritual continued. She could hear the lewd wailing of the women around her, the sound of the air stroking her wetness as the phallus slides out of her slickness. Lily heard Rita wailing, then she could feel her pussy lips undulate, the muscles throbbing uncontrollably. Then, Rita’s dew gushed into Lily’s mouth. She slurped down the juice, feeling the wet orgasm spread across her cheeks and over her chin.

As Rita fell off of Lily’s face. Miranda drove the glistening solid bone through Lily’s tight anus. Feeling that formidable girth penetrate through her made Lily see red. She screamed, wanting Miranda to stop, But once her sight returned, she could see Him lurking through the darkness. His eyes were bright black, opal that sparkled. Steamed jetted from his large nostrils. And he watched Lily with an aching desire. Miranda fucked her harder in the ass with the phallus, while Richelle and Rita licked at her pussy like dogs. But Lily’s eyes were only on Him. In His large hands was his rigid member, the engorged flesh a shade darker than the rest of his black body. She could hear Him growl, feel the weight of His desire crush against her body. She looked at Him, gyrating her hips moaning His many names over and over. Her lips moved faster than her mind could process, as if to say his names were to breathe or blink, involuntary and effortless. She climaxed again, a hot fever running through her body that made her feel nauseous, intoxicated. When Miranda pulled the phallus out of her chasmal butt hole, steam rose from its long shaft.

The rest of the night was a blur. The Black Poppies caroused throughout the evening. When Lily first woke up, she thought she was back at Sandalwood Hall, in her bed where she belonged. But, then the smell of burnt wood roused her back to reality. She opened her eyes and both marveled and moaned at the sight of a clean, blue sky. Wisps of white clouds floated across the landscape. She heard the other girls grumbling around her. She sat up. Every time she tried to move, Lily fet the soreness in between her thighs. She saw two other bodies, Rita’s chocolatey lithe physique intertwined with the pale-skinned Richelle, her curvy leg lazily draped over Rita’s perky behind. In the center of the circle was the pool of charred ashes from the bonfire the night before. As Lily stared into the black stain, bits and pieces of the night before suddenly came back to her. Her eyes floated over their almost motionless bodies. There was one missing. Miranda. She was gone. Her cape and skull mask was left behind.

“It happened,” Richelle muttered. “Didn’t it? I can’t remember.” She gave Rita a repulsed look. She crawled out of her embrace. When she finally realized she was naked, she quickly reached for Miranda’s cape and covered herself up.

Lily stood up. “Miranda!” She called. “Miranda!” Then, a vision came back to her. The Dark Lord’s eyes. The scorching thrust of his penis as it was surged through her. Lily caught an ominous chill. “He did come,” she replied. “I remember him… being with me.”

Rita and Richelle turned to one another. Then, something caught Rita’s eye. Her once bewildered expression transformed a look of fright. Her finger shakily floated up and pointed to the Baphomet statue on top of the altar. As it did last night, it was immortalized in a seated position. His hoofed legs were kicked up and his head was tossed back as if he was in mid-chuckle. His wild eyes were squinted shut, but his jagged teeth gleamed as he laughed. What hadn’t been there before was the phallus used in last night’s ritual. It was fixed in between his thighs.

Against Lily and Richelle’s objections, Rita removed the Baphomet statue, made heavy from his newly endowed genitalia. Upon closer inspection, the phallus was clean and as black as the Baphomet himself. She pulled on it but it wouldn’t budge. “I don’t remember this being on here,” she said. “But, then again I don’t remember much.” She turned to Lily. “Miranda might have headed back to the dorms.”

Richelle pointed to the gold plates at the bottom of the altar. “Look!” She shouted. “The offerings are gone.”

The girls gathered around the scene, and upon further fishing around their campsite they could not find traces of neither Miranda nor the gifts they left behind. But, Lily did spot something odd. She put on her white dress, which did little to veil her nude body, and crept over to a gathering of bushes surrounded by a large group of tall thin trees. It was there that the smell of burning wood grew strong. But there was no ash. There was no burnt wood that she could see.

Since then, none of the women mentioned that night again. Miranda never returned to the dorms. She had been missing ever since.

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