USAmericana: Hot Topics free porn video

What I'd not expected was a curvaceous, corseted, gorgeous goth to be bouncing up and down on my cock while moaning in delight.

Perhaps I should explain.

There'd been a number of changes at the mall, most of which involved invoking the various 'unmasked gods' that had taken charge of 'USAmerican' culture over the last few years (there'd been a 'Paradigm Shift' or something like that, so they'd apparently decided it was time to come out into the world). Wealth, god of wealth and influence, had a modest shrine next to the ATM while various gods of blended cookery had shrines in the food court, alongside some shrines to what folks might consider to be more 'traditional' gods, and generally they were pretty fun to go visit and look at.

Me, I was interested in the supposedly Fantastic shrine that ALTZ!!, a local scene shop, had put up to the twin gods of Goth. Word had it that the pair had recently appointed one of its managers (nobody knew which one) to be one of their prophets so the once-humble mall store had become a sort of mecca for the local goth crowd for a few months. Thus, the shrine.

When I walked in, it was fairly dead. There was a one employee working the register (a young, skinny, dark haired guy dressed like he didn't have a care in the world), another one Pretending to stock the shelves (a young woman who looked like she could have been the other's twin in both taste and looks), a number of half-stocked racks, and a couple other customers, a man and a woman, standing over by the clothing racks near the shrine.

The male customer was a greasy, pale, looming fellow with long black hair full of enough product that I was surprised he'd not collapsed from overheating. He wore fishnets anywhere you might see skin below the neck and his clothes were so tight that if he'd had any curves, literally any at all, you'd've been able to see them in excruciatingly crisp detail. It was a look that could've worked for him if he didn't have a continuous sneer that gave him the unbelievably punchable face of an absolute asshole.

The female customer, meanwhile, was stunning. She wasn't tall, hovering at about five foot nothing, but what she didn't have in height she More than made up for in voluptuousness, up top and down below. She had the kind of body musicians wrote songs about 400 years ago and brought the phrases 'huge tracts of land' and 'pixar mom bod' to mind. Her hair was a fantastic shade of neon blue and while her outfit wasn't anything to write home about, she was clearly here to change that.

"Really? Those boots, on you? Stick to Converses."

"Shut up, ass. I think they look cool."

Unfortunately, her male companion seemed to be the absolute worst choice of person to be her guide in that endeavour.

I tried to leave them be. Maybe I'd judged him too soon, or they had the kind of toxic friendship where they just always brought the worst out in each other. The longer I browsed, though, the more I heard him shoot down clothes and outfits that would have looked Amazing on her with deeper and angrier vitriol.

Really, Anything would have looked amazing on her, but he seemed bound and determined to only find clothes that would make her look frumpy and drab. Furthermore, he just kept Critiquing her, and not in the fun way friends do on occasion when they're trying to steer you away from the edge of a cliff. It was as if he wanted to find every positive thought she had about herself and poison it. I made a half-hearted attempt to keep the two of them out of mind, but his voice kept piercing through my thoughts like an icepick into a glacial wall.

***

"You're a little thick to pull off a dress like that, Penelope."

"Fuck you, Damian."

***

"Oh sure, wear that if you want to look like you rolled out of bed. Like, literally rolled. Get it? Like fat rolls?"

"I get it, dickhead; it just wasn't funny."

***

"You should just stay away from anything that looks elastic, which means those thigh highs are Out. You have to have a body like mine or Andrea's to really pull off that kind of stuff."

"How is my body any different from hers?"

"Do I need to spell it out, Penelope? You don't want to look like a wastoid, do you?"

***

Each time they snapped at each other, she'd eventually set the piece of clothing back and he'd look smug as a cat that got the dog blamed for a mess. What's more, anytime the young woman, Penelope, even had a Chance to drift away from him, he'd be right back at her side, quick as lightning, ready to verbally tear apart whatever she'd found. She seemed able enough to spar back with him, but that kind of shit could wear you down over time, even if you knew it wasn't true.

I took a deep breath and went over to the shrine. It wasn't the fanciest thing, like Wealth's was; but what it had, was full of community and life, unlike Wealth's. There was a sketch someone had made of the Twin Gods, little trinkets and doodads around it, and a pinboard covered with letters thanking the twins for coming out into the world. In the middle was a small fountain of water with a note stuck to the front and a small stack of dixie cups next to it.

I read the words under my breath. "While the water in this fountain is continually blessed by the twins, the fountain itself is maintained by the staff. Please leave it clean, don't double dip a cup, and don't take more water than you Really Need." Under that was an additional note scrawled in pencil that read "that means you, clarence. talk to agg if you HAVE to have witchy stuff," and I snorted a laugh.

"I just need a bit," I said to myself, as I dipped a finger into the fountain and dabbed my forehead with a speck of water.

Almost as Soon as the water touched my head, I felt a tingle and the man's voice pierced my thoughts once more. I looked over at him and saw that he was doubled over with laughter. Penelope was standing next to a wall of rather fetching corsets and looked as if she wanted to wither away.

"Like, seriously, you? In that? Fuck, in Any of these? Never gonna happen. You'd look like a beached whale," said the guy, wheezing as he put his hand on her shoulder to... I don't know, keep from falling over while he laughed, I suppose.

Something inside of me snapped.

"That is Such a crock of horseshit, you dense Ichabod Crane mother Fucker." I felt the words practically bubble out of me. Penelope and the two employees began to laugh while the guy stopped his shrieking, howling, laughter, and looked over at me like he'd only just realized that he wasn't the center of the universe.

"What did you say?" He sounded as if he was trying to be tough.

"I said that is a crock of horseshit, you dense Ichabod Crane mother fucker," I said back to him, not even halfway tempted to back down. "She could rock Anything in this store. She could rock a burlap--fucking--sack, and if you had working eyes, you'd be able to see that. So maybe pipe down Just A Scooch with the critiques."

"Guh. We weren't Talking to you." He scoffed and lolled his head back as if this display of dismissal would somehow drive me away.

I puffed up like an angry parrot. "Well I'm talking to you, Buster Brown, and I'm telling you right now that you are being a terrible friend."

He rolled his eyes. "You don't Know me Or her, so why don't you make like a... ugh... why don't you just shut up? Asshole."

The female employee spoke up. "Wrong. You are the one being the asshole, Damion Night (she almost spat out his name). A huge asshole, might I add." She only barely glanced over at him. The male employee didn't say anything, but nodded along with her.

"Hey, you can't call me an... guh. Whatever. Come on, Penelope, let's get out of here. This store is lame anyway." He did a big, slumping sigh before slinking away towards the entrance to the store. Then he paused and looked back behind him.

Penelope hadn't moved. Hadn't even watched him walk away; she was looking over the corsets as if scales had fallen from her eyes and she could only now see clearly.

"Come On, let's get out of here," said the guy, 'Damion Night,' who seemed to be realising that things might not be going his way.

Penelope ignored him. "Do you really think I could pull off a corset like this?" she asked, holding up an intricately patterned black one for me to take a look at.

"Absolutely," I said with a nod, giving her what I hoped was only a slight grin as I zipped over to her.

"Hey!" Damion's voice cracked and rose in pitch. He sounded like a kid upset with his mom for not letting him get candy at the register.

"L̸͍̑ë̷̞́a̷̳̍v̵̮̋e̵͉̓," snarled the female employee to Damian. Her eyes flashed gold as she spoke while the word veritably pulsed from everything around us.

His face went white, and he practically ran out, if a sort of quick shuffle could be called a run. The smell of ozone filled the air for a split second but faded soon after, followed by the 'dispersal' of the word.

The female employee turned to us, gave a cute little smile, and continued to pretend to stock the shelves.

Penelope and I, meanwhile, just looked at each other, and shared a nervous laugh.

"Praise be to the twin gods of goth?" I said, grinning broadly and waggling my eyebrows at her.

Penelope laughed again; a lovely, rich, sweet thing. "Praise be."

We stood next to each other in silence, Penelope looking everything over while I watched her look, girding my loins before speaking again.

"Water's free, yo," said the male employee from behind the counter. The tension between us began to melt, and we drifted back to the shrine, each of us pouring out a small cup of the blessed water for ourselves.

I took a deep sip from mine, then sighed as a trickle of blessing began to flow from the twin gods of goth into me once more. The water was cool, but I felt a pulsing warmth spread through my chest like hot chocolate on a cold day. "I'm Tad."

"So my knight in shining armor has a name." She smiled. "I'm Penelope."

I blushed and took another sip. "I try. So what were you looking for when you came in?"

Penelope sipped at hers and blushed. "I'd been hoping to get something a little more... me, I guess. I like the style here, but thanks to a certain someone I'd almost started to think that I couldn't pull it off without his 'help.' Now I guess... I dunno. I want something... I dunno. Something new."

I grinned at her. "Well let's get to it then, shall we?"

She grinned back at me in turn. Once we downed our cups, I followed Penelope back over to her first rack and watched as she began to pull clothes off the racks. Only a few at a time at first, but as I continued to encourage her she gained both momentum and passion, her spark of cheer growing into a flame.

We started with corsets because, well, we were already right there, but that was by no means where we stopped. We browsed skirts of both the modest and 'barely covers your ass' varieties, a veritable cornucopia of black Victorian and lolita lace shirts, knee high boots and black platform stiletto pumps, and, my personal favorites, fishnet stockings and thigh high socks.

I don't know how much help I really was, as My problem was that she Really Would look good in anything she chose, which meant that I could never say what she should get if she had to choose between two items.

Nevertheless, Penelope seemed to appreciate my companionship and I sure as hell didn't mind spending time helping a gorgeous young woman like her pick out clothes that'd make her look more stunning than she already did. It was only after we got to the last item on her list that I realized she'd been enjoying my company just as much.

"So I could probably get more than one of these, but I'm really having trouble choosing between them," said Penelope, a sly grin on her face.

She was holding up two different pairs of panties for me to look over; one was lacy with a few strategically placed butterflies while the other was plain but also clearly crotchless.

I fought back a blush. "That depends on the occasion you want to wear them for I suppose. If you're wearing one of your new short skirts I'd probably go with the lace. If you're feeling particularly amorous or adventurous then I'd go with the... with the other pair."

"That's a tough choice," she purred, raising an eyebrow mischievously. "Why don't I try them both on and see?" She cocked her head, gesturing for me to follow her as she sauntered towards the fitting room, her most delectable clothing choices in hand; I trailed after her like a puppy towards a clean carpet.

There was a very plain padded metal chair just outside the fitting room. It wasn't very comfortable, which I know because she gave me a little tap on the nose and told me to 'sit and wait' before she went into the fitting room. So I sat, and waited, and resisted the urge to shift my pants so I wasn't quite so obviously straining against them.

I don't know how long I just sat and waited, eyes locked onto the fitting room door, but it felt like an eternity. My heart beat faster and I took deep breaths.

("She probably really is just asking for advice,") I thought to myself in a failed attempt to quell my excitement. ("It's not like we know each other that well. We just met.")

"You ready for me?" she asked, from the fitting room; but before I could say anything she'd already opened the door and sashayed out to where I sat.

You know how I said that some of the skirts were short enough that they'd barely cover her ass? Well it turns out that they were even shorter than that, doing a poor job of covering even Half of her ass, which was now being Very emphasized by the platform stiletto pumps she'd chosen to wear with it, along with dark thigh-high stockings.

When my eyes trailed above her waist, I saw she was wearing one of the white frilled shirts covered with laces and a black corset with a deep blue trim. Her bust seemed to have magnified, going from merely 'prominent' to 'fulsome and bountiful' while the corset hugged her hips and waist, accentuating every beautiful curve she had.

I may have gaped like a fish for a moment.

"Well? What do you think?" she asked, giving me a little spin. The butterfly lace panties sat Perfectly on her, leaving only a fraction of her being to the imagination.

I may have gaped like a fish for more than a few moments.

I crossed my legs and cleared my throat.

"You look... wow. You look amazing. Like... you look... oh wow." Whatever verbal inspiration I had dried up as I tried to express her sultry beauty in more complex words than my mouth was allowing out.

She blushed and gave me a little curtsy.

"I'm glad you like it. Stay there and I'm going to go try on the other pair."

I nodded, crossed my legs even tighter, and watched her flow back into the fitting room.

Moments passed. Ages, millennia passed. It felt like I'd waited far longer this time than the first time she'd gone into the fitting room.

I almost began to settle down when she called out to me.

"Hey, could you come in here for a second? I need your help with something."

I went from gaining softness to fully hard in a second and went into the fitting room having given up on hiding my... stiffness.

She was bent over at the waist, one hand supporting herself against the wall while she used the other to fiddle with the waistband of her butterfly panties. There was a growing wet spot on them, and I could smell her arousal as I closed the door behind me.

She looked up at me with a pout. "I'm having trouble getting these off and I don't want to Break them. Could you help me get the other pair on?"

I nodded, then got to my knees. Slowly, carefully, deliberately, I pulled her butterfly panties down over her stockings. Her aroma was intoxicating and she glistened and pulsed as I worked her panties down her legs and over her stilettos.

My head began to lean towards her without any trace of thought from my brain and I had to fight off the urge to just dive in. I wasn't at all aided by the fact that she seemed to lean back towards me more and more the longer I stayed down on my knees.

"There's that pair off," I said, my throat suddenly dry. "Now let's get that other pair on."

She nodded, lifting each foot slowly as I finished taking the first pair off.

I set it off to the side, not bothering to think or worry about what we'd tell the employee at the register later as to why it was so very, Very wet.

The second pair seemed to glide up her legs, like they'd had been meant for her, designed for her, Created for her. Her knees quivered as I pulled the panties past them. She gave a little moan once I'd pulled them up all the way.

"There you go. All the way on," I said, gulping as I looked at her soft, plying wetness.

She stayed bent at the waist and she now had both hands against the wall.

"What do you think of the panties? Should I buy them?" she asked, her voice raw and husky. She pushed out a little bit towards me.

"I'd have to get a better look, I think, if I was going to be a good judge of that," I said, putting my hands on my thighs and using every ounce of willpower I had to restrain myself.

She giggled. "You can touch them if you want. Touch me, if you want. It's okay. And... I'm clean, if you know what I mean. I mean, I don't have any STDs, if you were worried." I could hear the blush in her voice.

I nodded. "I knew what you meant, and I'm clean, too."

I put my hands on her delicious ass and spread her cheeks apart. My throat was parched now, but based on how soaked she was it wasn't going to stay parched for long.

As she moaned and pressed back against me, I moved one of my hands down from her ass and, very glad that I'd cut my fingernails the other day, began to move a finger inside of her.

"Oh gods yes," she moaned as her legs began to shudder. I got the sense that the only thing propping her up was my hand on her ass and my face in her pussy but I didn't care. She was glorious and I needed more.

I moved my tongue over her lips, found her clit, and began to flick and massage it with my tongue, glazing at it with my teeth every so often just enough to give her a shudder. I slipped another finger inside her and, while I fingerbanged away, felt a little like a truffle pig as her moans slipped into the increasingly occasional scream of pleasure.

"Where'd you learn to do this?" she asked, as she writhed above me.

"Health class. Anatomy is important," I said, pausing only long enough to speak before diving back into her wet pussy as I continued to consume every bit of her that I could.

"And people say that health class is dumb. Oh gods, YES," she said, writhing as I continued tonguing her, throwing all caution to the wind.

I knew from the moment I'd come in that she'd been aroused, but only as I continued my (what I felt to be) wonderful assault on her sexual senses, did she begin to truly fall into the pleasure of the situation. I didn't try to fit more than two fingers inside her, but my instincts were telling me that she was ready for more than a finger and I Desperately wanted to listen to them.

But that wouldn't be right by her; I wasn't just down between her legs to get her aroused. I was down there to give her a screaming orgasm and By George she was going to get it.

It didn't take much longer to get her there. She wasn't just above me now, she was damn near Riding my face as her continued 'oh gods' grew closer and closer together.

"I think I'm gonna... Oh Gods, YES," and like that I felt a veritable Flow of wetness into my mouth as she came, not yelling so much as sighing in relief.

I let her steady herself, then pulled away.

"That was Fantastic," I said, giving her pussy a last kiss before I started to get to my feet.

She took a couple deep breaths. "You're telling me. Lay back on the floor." It wasn't a request so much as a command and I was more than happy to oblige.

She positioned herself between my legs, and, biting her lower lip in a way that put me in mind of Tim Curry's Dr Frank N. Furter, undid my pants and ever--so--slowly pulled them down. I did my damnedest to help, lifting my hips and feet as needed, but she seemed positively ecstatic to do as much of the work herself as she could.

I suppose this is the part where I'm obligated to say that I'm somehow hung like a horse and just as thick, but that simply isn't true. I'm about the average length and girth, maybe a little smaller, but to be perfectly fair that's really all you need to feel good and make a woman feel good in turn. Anyone who says otherwise is just plain wrong.

She certainly didn't seem to object.

"Oh my gods, you're perfect," she said, giving my dick a little kiss as I twitched in front of her face. She smiled, then kissed it a couple more times.

"That feels," I started to speak, but right at that moment she took me all in, right down to the hilt. "Very, very nice," I finished meekly; my eyes nearly rolled back in my head.

It wasn't the most expert of blowjobs, but what she lacked in technique she More than made up for in style, enthusiasm, and sheer fucking puckishness.

And Feel Good I Did as she worked my glans and shaft with increasing skill, watching my reactions to her bobblehead movements all the while. I twitched and did everything in my power to not try to just fuck her face. That's a thing that needs prep, not something you spring on your partner unawares, no matter your size.

Not that it mattered to her. She was blissfully taking my whole member in stride, going from the tip of my cock to the base with no trouble at all; not a thing she'd be able to do, worry-free, if I had a huge cock. It didn't take me long before I could feel a pressure start to build up in my balls.

"Penelope, I'm gonna cum," I said, just as much of a statement as it was a warning.

She didn't stop bobbling up and down on my cock,and I couldn't help but shoot what I felt were Ropes of cum down her throat. She swallowed it all.

She flicked her tongue in and out, smacked her lips together, then smiled at me.

I propped myself up and shrugged. "I did warn you."

She blushed and nodded, her cheeks rose red. "You did. Thanks."

She looked down at my cock and frowned. "You're getting soft," she said, almost disappointed.

"I did just cum down your throat," I said apologetically.

"Well I'm--" and she licked my cock, "just gonna have to get you hard again," and she licked my cock again, "Because I need you inside me," and with that she began to work my cock with vigor.

"I don't have a condom; sorry," I said, laying back down and grinning a silly smile and enjoying the moment.

"I have an IUD, I'm okay," she said back to me, not moving an inch away from my cock.

"Well alright then," I growled, grinning down at her like a lion might look at a sheep.

She grinned back at me, looking as much as a lioness as I did a lion.

She continued to work at my cock, taking the time to pay as much attention to it as she could. She'd give a slow lick up my shaft, then bobble up and down on my cockhead and flick her tongue over it, feeling every little part of it as she did.

A couple times, she went all the way down to the bottom of my shaft, but as I began to grow harder and harder, once more she stayed closer to the top and contented herself and me with exploring each ridge I had.

"I think you're ready to go," she said, her mouth making a little 'pop' sound as she pulled off from working my cockhead and shaft, once more stiff as a railroad spike.

"I don't know how I couldn't be," I said, not moving from where I was. My cock bounced against her cheek a couple times.

She giggled then Ever So Slowly pushed herself up from my cock and slid up my body until I was almost perfectly lined up with her and, with No hesitation, slid back down again, right onto my cock. I felt like I'd slipped into velvet.

"Oh I Needed this," she said, as she began to ride me, her skirt moving with her hips as she worked my cock with fluid up and down motions.

If she'd been naked I would have started playing with her breasts, but the crotchless panties meant that we could fuck as hard as we wanted without taking a single thing off, so she'd cursedly remained covered by her shirt, which remained held in place by her corset. So I contented myself with enjoying watching her Massive Tiddies bounce as she moved.

I got a sense for her rhythm and, once I was sure of it, I began to pound back up into her in turn, matching each of her bounces with a thrust of my own. It was a minor miracle that I didn't slip out of her; today felt to be full of blessings.

"You feel amazing," I moaned as I continued to thrust inside of her. I gripped her ass and began to thrust harder and soon she'd gone from an upright bounce to a matched horizontal with me, both her hands on the ground to keep herself steady as I pounded her pussy like a butter churn.

"You feel pretty good, too," she said, her face flushed as she gave me a radiant smile. Her neon blue hair hung loose and framed her cheeks; she looked ever more gorgeous than she had before, the sheer joy she expressed filling my heart.

"Hey, let's change positions," I said, pulling her down onto my cock and continuing to give her little thrusts while I held her there.

She gave me a coy smile, "Change to what?" Her pussy pulsed and she made little bounces of her own even as I held her in place.

I didn't say anything. Instead, I gave a quick turn and just like that she was on her back while I stationed myself over her.

"To something like this," I said as I returned her grin.

"Oh, I like," she said, biting her lower lip for a moment before giving out a little yelp as I began to assault her pussy with a true vigor.

I felt like we were built for each other as I slammed into her. Her pussy was perfect, each fold and curve of it making room for my cock as I thrust. It was like it was giving my cock little kisses all over as I moved in and out of her.

"Do... you... do... kegels? 'cause... you... feel... great," I said, panting as I spoke. Thinking was getting difficult.

She was able to give me a little 'uh-huh' as she wrapped her legs around mine and pulled me as close to her as I'd pulled her to me. It was clear that her mind was as foggy as mine was now.

I didn't quite reach the desperate pounding of a dog who'd just mounted a bitch in heat, but I did hit a hard rhythm. She, meanwhile, began to grip my back; I could feel her leave scratch after scratch as she desperately tried to hold onto me, as if I might thrust myself skyward if she let go.

"I'm gonna cum," I said as I felt a familiar pressure build up in my balls.

"Me too," she said, holding tighter onto me.

"Should I pull out?" I said, not at all ceasing my thrusts.

"No, I'm safe; do it inside, please, I want to feel it," she said, her eyes shut as her mouth moved soundlessly.

I went for almost another quick burst, then I felt my orgasm overtake me and I painted the inside of her vagina with my cum. Underneath me, she screamed once more and, with a spasming shudder, I felt her cum as well.

All the energy drained out of me, out of both of us.

We lay there panting, halfway exhausted and halfway intertwined.

Her new outfit was nearly dripping with sweat and I knew that I had to be just as soaked. There'd be no hiding what we'd done when we left, but I didn't care. This had felt amazing, Been amazing.

As I looked at her, covered with sweat, her face glowing in post-orgasmic pleasure, I couldn't help but feel that she looked the most beautiful I'd seen her yet.

Not because we'd just had Fantastic sex, although it Had Been fantastic. No, she just looked so absolutely Happy. The kind of happiness that makes someone radiant even in sweatpants, a baggy shirt, and flip flops.

I cupped my hand around her cheek. She nuzzled into it, then opened her eyes.

"Hey," I said to her, smiling.

"Hey," she said, smiling back at me.

"Could I kiss you?" I asked, blushing a deep red as I did.

Sure, we'd just had sex, but a kiss would be intimate in a way that sex wasn't, and it was an intimacy that I very much wanted to share with her.

The wait for her reply was nothing at all; yet, it felt even longer than my first wait had been.

Then--almost as soon as I asked, and after an eternity--she nodded, and we kissed.

It was... it was really nice. It was a simple kiss, nothing more than lips touching lips, but in that instant, I felt more alive than I had through all the sex that had come before.

When we stopped kissing, I looked at her with a silly, stupid smile on my face. She looked at me with the same silly, stupid smile.

I gave her another quick kiss and she scrunched up her cheeks in delight. Then, slowly, fighting the urge to just stay there with her, I got back to my feet, pushing off from the floor as I did so, and took a deep breath once I was upright. I reached out a hand and helped her to her feet as well, and she took the same deep breath.

"I should change into my street clothes," she said after she collected herself.

I looked down at my bare legs and nodded in agreement. "I should probably put my pants back on."

"Probably," she said, giving a little laugh tinted with sadness.

As we changed (she did not, surprise surprise, need my help changing Out of her clothes), we continued to steal glances at each other.

I held the door to the fitting room open and as she walked by me I worked up one final bit of courage.

"Hey, a question for you," I said, hoping against hope this would work.

She spun back towards me like a ball on a bearing.

"Yes?" she asked. Her eyes were bright while her mouth twitched with fear.

"If you want, do you... do you want to get coffee sometime, or go for dinner and a... or a walk around? You know... a... a date?" I felt almost as nervous about this as I did about the kiss.

Her face shifted into radiant happiness. "I'd like that."

We walked to the counter together and she purchased her favorites from the clothes she'd ***********ed (not even allowing me The Chance to offer to pay for them myself), including the totality of the outfit she'd shown me in the fitting room.

The male employee behind the counter didn't ask us about what we'd done, or why some of the clothes were soaked, content to ring her up. After he gave her the receipt, though, he gave us a thumbs up, a nod, and a shit-eating grin.

Penelope and I just leaned into each other and smiled.

The female employee was nowhere to be found.

* * * C O D A * * *

Damion Night had to get home via Uber. Penelope had been his ride to the mall and after that Bitch kicked him out of the store he'd been left to his own devices. He'd waited around a while for Penelope to catch up to him like she always did, but she never came. Clearly, she was just another useless femoid.

His older sister had shouted something at him when he walked into the house, but he ignored her. Whatever she was going to tell him, either didn't matter or she'd make a point of shouting it at him again later, so there wasn't much point in saying anything Now.

His room, painted black and covered with posters of Real alt bands (not just the 'alphabet club' crap everyone else he knew was obsessed with), was his sanctuary and his computer occupied a central space in it as it was his medium to the outside world.

The Real real world, not the spaces nearby where all the queers and sluts around him seemed to gather in such mass.

He flicked it on and pulled up the camera app to record another video for his channel.

"Hey everybody, Damion Night here. If you've been following me then you'll know that I've been hanging out with Penelope a lot. I was pretty sure she was into me, but today some fucking Chad bamboozled her. So I guess I'm single again."

Before he could say anymore, though, the screen shuddered and shifted.

What had been his face morphed into the kind of face you might find on a Greek statue. It was like him, but a perfected, chiseled version of him. A strong chin, inky black hair, and fucking rad piercings; it was the kind of face that'd look at home on the cover of magazines.

It sneered at him.

"You lost her because you were weak. Because you Are weak," the face, laughing in a hideous, joyless way. Its voice was deep, like a mineshaft, or a pit.

"I lost her because of that fucking Chad, whoever you are," said Damion, snapping at the face even as he knew deep in his bones that whatever this was was Far more powerful than he could ever even dream of being.

"No. You were not strong, and so you have lost her forever, to her new man, and to the twins of goth, fools that they are. She does not serve you. THEY do not serve you, for in the end they listen to the weakness of the female and ignore the True Strength of Man," said the face. It didn't sound like it liked the twins. It sounded like it hated them.

"And you Would serve me, then, since the twin gods of goth don't?" asked Damion, intrigued now.

Damian realized the foolishness of his statement as the face filled with rage, and he recoiled. But then it settled, and smiled at him.

"No. I serve no one. But I will allow You the chance to serve Me." The face's lips curled up into the kind of predatory smile one might find on a wolf.

Damion considered.

"What is your name, oh great master?" he said at last, putting on what he hoped was the kind of look a beta-male would give to an alpha (He'd never thought of Himself as a beta, of course, but if ever there was an alpha, this... Thing... was it).

The face's smile broadened. Damion noticed that its eyes were empty, somehow, like a void, but he didn't really care anymore.

"I have many names, but you may call me Dominion."

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