WHEN SATAN COMES KNOCKING — OPEN THE DOOR WIDE by Sapphyre

Disclaimer: The characters and events depicted in this work are fictional. The author does not condone or promote any unlawful activity such as is depicted in the story. By continuing to read this work you acknowledge that you are an adult who wishes to read works of fantasy and fiction for the purpose only of fantasy. All the characters in this story are adults. They may play different ages for the fictional character that they are depicting but they remain at all times adults. The following is fiction. The content of the story is not representative of the writer’s beliefs, opinions, or attitudes. This story is intended for adult entertainment only.

Feature Writer: Sapphyre

Feature Title: WHEN SATAN COMES KNOCKING — OPEN THE DOOR WIDE

Published: 01.10.2023

Story Codes: Transvestite, Ritual, Occult, Devil Worship, Witchcraft

Synopsis: Discovering of what is really happening in Brighton

When Satan Comes Knocking — Open The Door Wide

It’s a question that every so often bubbles up in my consciousness and bothers me to this day. When I started down my route of Satanism it is just possible I connected almost from the first posting of the photos with someone powerful who could have had a profound effect on me and guided me even more than they actually did but I was not experienced enough and too nervous to appreciate it.

Was I scared and just wasted the opportunity? What if you get so very lucky the first time and you do not realize it? It is probably nonsense but it’s still a mild worry to the more experienced me looking back — as it was, it let Satan into my life, and knew I needed more.

It started when I was at a low point, my relationship failed badly, not getting any sex, drinking a bit too much, and lacked direction. One night I saw a “Hammer” horror movie, Madeline Smith and Ingrid Pitt, being lesbian vampires. I remembered all those movies and thought the occult was a fetish that I might like to explore, not seriously or anything but it seemed to potentially work as a sexual buzz.

It was surprisingly easy to put together a look of a pentangle, circle, and altar and I took some photos of me in lingerie being all virginal and ready to be sacrificed. It gave me a real buzz and worked far better than I expected. Got really hard and at the end of the pictures after that part was finished stroked me off to a good solid orgasm.

Posted some pictures, but not the cock pictures, got that t-shirt, on a now-defunct website, and got some nice feedback. One reply said they liked my look but it was clear I had no real idea of the occult and rituals. However, when they were finished being negative, they said I had potential and they we happy to give me some pointers.

I ignored it for some days as it was true but I felt mildly insulting but in the end, finally replied. They sent several links which I clicked on and they were very sexually stimulating and appeared to be genuine. What did I know? I was only too aware of the fantasists on the Internet. Well, we started talking.

“I am a High Priestess of a coven in Brighton.”

I didn’t take it too seriously.

She asked about my experiences and I might well have been a bit of a, well, fantasist myself. Several times we talked and I contradicted myself and she did not seem to notice so I thought it was just a bit of fun really. Now I know better. She would send pics, some were clearly quite easily available on the Internet but some were not.

Some showed naked women and men in rituals. She was so very easy to talk to.

“I should not be afraid of going deeper and darker,” she asked.

“Okay,” I replied.

She gave me an email address for an encrypted email site. She said we should stop using the site we were on, as this was a “safer” site. The delay between sending and receiving messages would be a lot less. What she really wanted to do was to send darker extreme photos and stories. I set up an account and we sent each other messages.

Very soon the messages and her stories became a lot darker and Satanic. I was shocked at how I responded to them. She said it was fine to stroke off to the stories. I would be nearing orgasm and she would flash up more extreme photos at the moment of orgasm. Images of gang bangs, hard BDSM, and occult rituals.

It did not take much of this orgasm pleasure reward training for me to find harder porn and occult imagery so very arousing. I started to look forward to her messages sometimes they were just “hello”, but other times stories or pictures were attached. She gave advice on setting up an altar and a proper area, then a basic ritual.

Reading it all was so stimulating. I would get naked and enjoy her photos and stories — stroking myself off to them — she asked about my fantasies and they very quickly became dark and she said this was a good sign. She asked for photos of my new rituals. Well, I did not have any. I was not doing the rituals, but I made an effort and set up a proper altar and took some photos — It all felt very erotic and natural.

I sent her the photos. She asked for some of me at the altar — naked — now I was suspicious at that point. She said it would help her to get closer to me … “for us to bond.”

However, I took some more photos. I thought would keep her happy when at the last minute, I did get naked and used the incantations. Again it was very exciting and I ended up ejaculating into a goblet.

I then spent several days worrying about the photos I was about to send. Photos that showed me naked and my hard cock. I was much more inexperienced then. You can never be too careful, right? Finally, with I trembling hand, I pressed send. These photos went to her. She was very complimentary. She sent me a sigil to print off and stroke myself off to. I spent several hours staring at it and orgasming hard over it.

She sent a new incantation. I was to say naked in bed, ideally fucking myself with a dildo. Well, it was a full moon and it would be powerful, she’d said. I had to send a small snippet of my hair to a P.O. Box number. It seemed totally random and harmless.

Midnight came and I lay there and started to chant the incantation. I had rarely been so hard.

Then for the first time, it all felt real and scary. I stopped. I lied when she asked about how it went. She told stories about the coven and its rituals. How there was an abandoned church where powerful black magic rituals happened and if I was down in Brighton they would initiate me into being a neophyte. This was a lovely thought, but was it true?

There was talk about her summoning a succubus for me. She said she had carried out a ritual to open my third eye and to accept Satan. It all sounded very unlikely. All I had to do was lie naked on the bed at midnight. Felt like an absolute idiot, again, but at midnight was in bed naked and chanted.

When I did so, there were scratching noises, and it felt cold. I was scared and really nothing had happened. Then suddenly the account was deleted and I could not find her on the Internet.

The thing was, I felt as if I was never alone. Somehow for several weeks afterward, sometimes in the shower, it felt as if there were hands briefly on me. Of course, I was in a mess at that point, but it was unnerving. It passed and I felt fine again.

There it might have ended, a fake taking advantage of another fake or just two people role-playing on the Internet, you take your choice. I was in a better place, lot less drinking, felt better about myself lost weight, and looked a lot better in lingerie than I had done for some time. Ever so often I felt a little embarrassed about the whole business but other times quite proud. Was still doing the rituals as they gave comfort.

Several months later I actually did find myself down in Brighton. To my not particular surprise could not find any reference to the church. To be honest this was a bit of a relief, it all got a bit too real. I found myself in an upmarket second-hand book shop that had an “Alternative belief” section that seemed to cover quite a wide range as well as a “local history” section.

There was a woman in her thirties with quite an upper-class accent who was behind the counter, surprisingly attractive but very off-putting. Good legs. I had spent too long at the alternative belief section for her liking and she came over to ask if there was anything I was actually looking for and possibly buying. I said no and was about to go when I remembered the old church Did she know anything about the old church?

Her whole demeanor changed she smiled and became almost chatty. She knew where it was, the middle of nowhere. Nobody would know you were there inside. You could do anything and not be disturbed.

She looked at me meaningfully. She went to draw directions on a piece of paper and attached her card.

”In case you want to contact us.”

She stared at me, not unfriendly.

“Have we met before?” She asked.

The shop was getting busy.

“Maybe you should come back another time,” she suggested, “Maybe tomorrow, after lunch, if you’re still looking for something. Why don’t you check our website? We always have interesting books coming in,”

I left, not quite knowing whether it was just some complicated sales ploy.

Anyway, I got off the train and went up the hill, the church was difficult to find and it was clear the saleswoman had been right about you being left alone. I opened the door to a late Norman church and went in. It was a shock. The photos of the rituals had been taken here. There was a pentangle and a circle on the floor with remains of burnt herbs and incense, as well as other offerings.

The place still had residual energy and I found myself responding to it.

I walked to the pentangle and was about to step to the center — but it felt wrong — maybe I was making a mistake. I walked back three paces and realized that I was being disrespectful. Had to do this properly. There was silence in the church. Nobody was around. It was safe, warm, and semi-gloomy. Took my shirt off, followed by shoes and socks, then my jeans. I made one last check and removed my underwear.

Now I was completely naked. The stone floor underneath my bare feet was cold. I walked towards the circle and stepped into the center. Knew what happened here I saw the perverted images, the desecration, the rituals — so it was all true — I lay down on the stone floor. My cock was rock hard.

I was not sure what to do next. In the silence, I just tried to absorb the evil energy that was there. Finally could not resist anymore and stroked myself off — my cum landing in the center of the pentangle.

The next day I was full of questions and returned to the bookshop. The woman was there. This time she was wearing more makeup, a blouse, and a wraparound skirt. She also had high heels on. She nodded briefly to me and said to someone behind the counter just to check this customer’s order and it may be some time. The man nodded and got on with cataloging.

“This way,” she said and led me to a storeroom.

She seemed to control and expected to be in charge.

“You are back then,” she asked.

“I am. I have some questions.”

She had her phone in her hand and scrolled to a set of photos and passed the phone to me. It showed me naked and ejaculating in the goblet.

“That’s you?” she quizzed.

I nodded.

“You sent them to the High Priestess. You were under instruction.”

“Yes,” I replied.

“What happened to her?”

“All in good time,” she replied and scrolled again passing the phone back to me.

“You were sent these pics?”

“Yes,” I amswered.

“They are of one of our rituals — that naked woman being anally screwed at the lectern is me,” she smiled, “But you knew that didn’t you? So we have established each other bona fides.”

She walked down to the storeroom as if looking for a specific book.

“I am wearing fuck-me heels for you. Appreciate that. Stockings and suspenders too. Uncomfortable but gets the men hard. If you stay around witchcraft, the occult for long you at any meaningful level will find it odd to talk about it and not to show a lot of skin.”

At this she unbuttoned her blouse and put it carefully down the wraparound skirt too came off easily and was neatly folded up. She had raided the lingerie draw clearly her large breasts in an expensive red bra. It was as if she was talking to herself, she started talking

“So why did the coven break?”

“It’s nothing dramatic. It was a perfectly fine size … good dynamics … didn’t overreach itself … it’s just …”

She paused tweaking her nipple and slipping out of her panties.

”Too many people were having bad luck … not bad … just niggly stuff. Which did not stop. Sometimes the universe sends you small messages that you can ignore … and then the universe sends big messages. We heeded the small messages. We will probably reform in the future. Got your email. Shame as you showed potential. The High Priestess was always a good judge of horseflesh.”

She paused again.

“Well not with us but some other group.”

She walked very close to me.

“You have the taste for it now, can smell it on you.”

At this, she put a hand down my jeans.

“Yes. Hard already thought so. Oh, one more thing big boy, get used to the high libido you will need a lot of sex from now on. I know I do. Do a few rituals, let Satan in and your body gets oh so sensitive and needs sex.”

She unzipped my jeans.

“I am going to give you a blow job now. This will involve kneeling and then getting up in very high heels,” she sighed.

She pulled down my boxer shorts. My cock was hard and angry. She put her perfectly manicured hands with blood-red nails on my cock and opened her red-lipsticked mouth about to suck me off.

“The things we girls do for Satan and Lilith.”