Ritual Gone Wrong (Patreon)

Watching my professor visibly sweat was the kind of thing that gave me life. He wanted me, the moody goth in his 3 o’clock lecture. Guess he’s always had a thing for bad girls in black huh? I wonder if he has the same fantasies as I do?~

Specifically  where he grabs my pale squishy thighs while he begs from under me? Or maybe the one where I leave damning black lip stick rings around his rumored massive cock? Oh yes~... I have quite a few plans for my desperate professor. Lust filled plans indeed. He’s my bitch, and he knows-

“Emily! Are you daydreaming in class again??” Mr. Kline asked incriminatingly from his lector.

“U-um i-i was just-“

“So you wouldn’t be able to repeat a single thing I’ve talked about for the past 30 minutes, would you?” He asked another question before I could even finish.

“Well... it w-was... Othello and..” I stammered as I’m pretty sure my blush could be seen from all the way in the back.

“.... try King Leer. Emily. Pay attention. Now.” After a few seconds of silents and a few giggles from other classmates he continued.

....... I sat there in my seat, wide eyed, humiliated, flustered. That’s when I took out my little black book and switched Mr. Kline’s name from the “fuck” category to the “sacrifice” one.

Ok so maybe things aren’t how I said. Fuck you, they will be. Once I complete the ritual I’ve been working on in my dorm for months and summon my very own demon, THEN he’ll be my bitch. And I’ll have him kissing my thick black boots, along with a conga line of others. I just need all the ingredients. 

I looked over my spell book, concealed in the cover of whatever dumb story we were suppose to be reading in class today and went over what I needed.

Lock of summoners hair? Check. Goats blood? Cost a pretty penny online and I had to have a talk with the mail guy, but check. Screams of the damned (me yelling into a jar for 10 minutes). Promises of a politician? A copy of NBA 2k20? Check check and check again. God I was almost done! 

The last thing I needed was the thing I looked forward to the most. “The desperation of a slave.” And I know EXACTLY how to get that.... and now who to get it from.~ Hahaha! HHAHA! MWAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAH!

“EMILY!” Mr. Kline shouted again.

“SORRY! S-sorry...” I blushed again and got myself together.

“You and me. After class. We can’t keep going on like this if you expect to walk out of here with anything but a failing grade.” With that he got back to talking.

..... U-um....Fool!... All according to plan. I laugh again, but quieter this time so I don’t get yelled at.

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