Page 94 of Horror and Chill
The chat explodes.
ChurchofAgatha:WHERE U BEEN BABY GIRL?
GoreSlut420:We missed those tits.
Ghostface69:Make it up to us. LIVE request show rn.
BloodPetal:Can we be added to the mask que?
A laugh bubbles out of me before I can stop it. “God, I missed you freaks.”
I grab a prop from the floor and open the old grimoire I bought at a thrift store for ten bucks. The ink’s fake Latin, chicken scratch nonsense, but they don’t care. I drag my black-polished nail down the column of words, pretending to read.
“Anyone want to be cursed?” I purr. “Say the name. Offer me something in return. That’s how it works.”
NotACopIPromise: CURSE MY BOSS. I’LL OFFER YOU
MY SOUL AND 50 TOKENS.
GutterPrince: Curse my ex-wife. I’ll offer you my cock.
CryptCummin:Curse me. I wanna be ruined by you.
I grin. “Tempting. Very tempting.”
Then I lean close to the mic, whispering like a prayer. “By candle’s flame, by smoke and ash, I bind your cock to limp and crash.”
The comments explode.
CasketCase:LMAO DEAD
SnackPackSlut:OMG! Mommy, please curse me next.
PurpleTights:Say their names. Make it real. Make it hurt.
I close my eyes, chanting nonsense syllables, hips swaying as if the rhythm belongs to me. The boa of smoke, the low light, the open book—it’s all theater. Camp. Sexy horror chic. And they eat it up.
I trail a finger down my chest, over my corset, smearing ash across my skin like war paint. “Do you feel it?” I ask, voice dropping lower, more dangerous. “Do you feel me owning you through the screen?”
Sk8rSlut97:YES GOD YES
QuietintheBack:I’m hard. Ruin me.
TonyFromAccounting:Hex my dick so it only works for you.
PurpleTights:That pussy is already owned by us
I laugh. “See? You beg, I cave. Alright. Request show. Let’s go. What do you want first?”
DarkRoomDoll:Show us all the piercings.
NotACopIPromise:Say you’re sorry for being a bad girl, bend over when you do it.
CasketCase:Lick the screen like you’re talking dirty into it.
I roll my eyes, but my chest warms. God, I’ve missed this. Missed the control of it. Even when they’re bossy, it’s still me pulling the strings.
“Fine, fine,” I murmur, standing to spin, bare feet against the floor. “Forgive me, gremlins. I’ve been such a bad girl leaving you alone.” I bend at the waist, sticking my ass toward the camera, letting the corset bite into my ribs.
