{"loaderData":{"4":{"story":{"id":"04a6caf0-3bc8-4d62-9d1f-000311681f08","seriesId":"38d0de27-4301-4068-beb9-dcd4f38453b9","seriesName":"Devil on My Shoulder","currentUserId":"00000000-0000-0000-0000-000000000000","added":"2024-02-16T16:42:17.25Z","title":"Devil on My Shoulder 1.","slug":"devil-on-my-shoulder-1","shortId":"G9wpFXwb","authorNote":"Please follow me on Patreon for access to all current chapters of Devil on My Shoulder via my Discord channel. You will also gain access to all my stories now totaling well in excess of 150,000 words. https://www.patreon.com/SummerGold","disclaimer":null,"type":"Short","paidUrl":null,"synopsis":"Set in the year 1991, submissive Julia is invited to the 18th birthday party of her rich, bratty cousin, Shannon. Shannon has always hated how poor and ugly Julia is. This is a wonderful opportunity for Shannon to humiliate Julia. Meanwhile, Julia has a secret fetish that would ruin her life if Shannon ever found out.","partCount":1,"parts":[{"partId":"c8af5f1b-7a70-408e-95ab-396e598121a6","title":null,"summary":"The year was 1991, and Mom and I were driving to Paradise Hills to celebrate my cousin Shannon's eig","wordCount":7487,"readTime":37,"number":1,"state":"Published"}],"currentPart":1,"contentTitle":"Chapter 1","content":"

The year was 1991, and Mom and I were driving to Paradise Hills to celebrate my cousin Shannon's eighteenth birthday party.

Shannon\n had never liked me. In fact, she hated me. She was always poking fun at\n my weight, or clothes, or just how I walked and talked. There was \nalways something wrong that Shannon could find fault with.

Her mom\n (my aunt Martha) had married into generational wealth which had only \nskyrocketed in recent years thanks to President Reagan's financial \nderegulations and tax cuts. When my uncle passed away a couple of years \nago, she inherited it all.

It meant that Shannon was rich \n(disgustingly rich.) She afforded the latest fashions, drove expensive \ncars, took multiple vacations a year, and attended the most elite \nall-girls school in the state, the prestigious Paradise Institute.

Meanwhile, I was someone who still took the bus to my crappy public school, despite being a senior.

Aunt\n Martha had never worked a day in her life. She met my uncle in college \nand married him soon after graduation. She lived a life of ease and \nluxury, enjoying the service of a 24-hour maid, allowing her to focus \nsolely on beautifying herself with the best cosmetics, nutrition, \nsurgery, and exercise that her vast fortune could buy.

It wasn't \nfair. Mom struggled every day to afford what little we had. Dad \nabandoned us when I was still a girl, and Mom had been working as many \nodd jobs as she could find to keep us afloat.

I didn't like to \nthink about her in that way, but for sure the stress over bills and \ngroceries had taken a toll on her looks. She was a gaunt woman with lank\n hair and permanent dark circles under her tired eyes.

It was hard\n to believe Martha was her sister. She was so classically beautiful with\n high cheekbones, perfect posture, and a firm, proud bosom. \nUnfortunately for Mom, Martha had stolen all the best genes from my \ngrandparents for herself, leaving Mom with the leftovers she never \nwanted.

Mom had a massive inferiority complex in regard to her \nsister. She always tried extra hard for us to look presentable in front \nof her, often spending way more than we could afford on new clothes. It \nwas kind of sad.

Today was no different. Mom had me wear a dress \nwith a stupid spinny skirt and a bow on the back. It made me feel like a\n little kid going to her first dance. I wore a cardigan to cover my arms\n in an effort to hide them from Shannon's inevitable jabs about my \nweight.

My default aesthetic was grunge. I loved Nirvana, Pearl \nJam, and Alice in Chains. I had band t-shirts, flannel shirts, and torn \njeans. I felt comfortable like that. It was kind of cool, plus it hid my\n body. But Mom freaked when she saw me dressed like that for Shannon's \nparty. She was always hyper tense before meeting Martha and the last \nthing either of us needed was an argument.

'Mansion Martha,' as \nMom liked to call it, was a grand colonial fenced property situated on \n88 acres, with a long winding driveway, a circular motor court around a \nstone fountain, and lush, manicured lawns. There was a four-car detached\n garage, a front portico supported by Corinthian columns, and a large \nrear patio overlooking the grounds and gazebo. It held an aura of \nelegance and power.

The party had been going on for a couple of \nhours and the driveway was full of expensive cars all belonging to \nShannon's rich friends.

The embarrassment on Mom's face was \nobvious as she parked her run-down Buick Estate Wagon with torn seating \nand a broken radio between a brand new Chrysler TC Maserati and a BMW \nE30 M3.

\"I sure hope nobody sees this is our car,\" she muttered, looking around anxiously to make sure we were alone.

She\n was always like this. It made me feel bad for her. Yes, Martha was \nrich, but it wasn't as if she'd done anything to earn it. It was all \ninherited from her husband. Mom worked hard to provide for me. She was a\n good person. She always tried her best. That counted far more in my \neyes than whatever snooty school she could or couldn't afford to send me\n to.

Sure, Shannon obviously had an advantage over me in terms of \nher education, connections, and good looks, but that wasn't going to \nstop me making a success of myself.

I was going to be a novelist. I\n loved King and Koontz. It was my dream to be a bestseller. I \nspecialized in horror and gothic. I'd even had a short story accepted \nfor publication.

I channeled all our hardships and struggles to \naid my creative flow. One day, Mom would see, and then everything she'd \nbeen through would be worth it. I fantasized about her proudly declaring\n to Aunt Martha how I was top of the New York Times bestseller list. \nFinally, she would have something to brag to her about for once.

No\n matter Shannon's privileges, she could never write a novel anyone cared\n about reading. Art was created through suffering. What could Shannon \npossibly write about? The time her maid brought her the wrong kind of \njuice?

Mom took the key out of the ignition and turned to me with a\n serious expression. \"Julia, listen to me. I know Shannon can be \ndifficult-\"

I had to smile. That was the understatement of the century.

\"But please don't make a scene tonight.\"

I furrowed my brow. \"What do you mean?\"

She swallowed a lump. \"It's just one night. Be nice and respectful and we'll get through this. Please don't rock the boat.\"

\"Um, I don't know what you're talking about. I've no intention of rocking anything. I don't even want to be here.\"

She placed her hand on my leg and gripped it firmly. \"Promise me!\"

I was taken aback. The pleading in my mom's eyes was frightening. \"Sure, I promise. I'll be good.\"

Her face lightened with relief. She smiled and gave me a kiss.

\"Mom? What's going on?\"

She shook her head. \"Nothing to worry about. I'm just going through some things and I think your aunt might be able to help.\"

I didn't like the sound of that. \"Mom? Are we in trouble?\"

\"No,\" she answered too quickly and brightly for my liking, \"everything is fine.\"

If\n she was asking her sister for money, then everything was definitely not\n fine. She'd always hated the idea of being in debt to her. She would \nmuch rather have gone without than suffer that indignity.

The \nhopeful sadness in her smile broke my heart. I smiled back. \"Okay, Mom. \nDon't worry about me. I won't do anything to upset Shannon.\"

\"Thank you,\" she said, \"that's all I'm asking.\"

An\n entire carnival was erected on the mansion's grounds. There were \nhundreds of red and white striped tents that held all manner of \nfairground attractions and games such as bust-a-balloon, skee ball, and \nwhack-a-mole. There was a large Ferris wheel, bumper cars, a carousel, \nand a pendulum. Magicians, fire eaters, and acrobats were performing \ntricks. There were plenty of vendors providing corn dogs, popcorn, \ncotton candy, and slushies.

Hundreds of teens wandered around, \nlaughing, joking, and screaming together. I followed Mom in a daze \nthrough the crowds. How did Shannon even know this many people, \nnevermind know them well enough to invite them to her party? I figured \nthat was just what happened when you were pretty and rich. There was no \nshortage of people waiting to brown-nose you.

We walked through a \nhaze of candy and perfume to a stage that housed the DJ booth and a baby\n pink throne like the kind of thing Madonna might have used in one of \nher music videos. Balloons were tied to the arms, proudly showing the \nnumber 18. Gifts were piled, wrapped in deluxe, glossy paper, and tied \nwith bows. There were too many to count.

Mom held Shannon's \nbirthday card in her hand. She had learned a long time ago that there \nwas no point trying to buy Shannon a gift. Anything Shannon actually \nwanted, we could have never afforded. It was easier to give her money.

I\n can't say it didn't bother me, though, when she gave Shannon the same \nfifty dollars she gave me. It was almost as if she was placing her \nrelationship with her niece on the same level as her daughter. But I \nunderstood rationally that it was less for Shannon's benefit than it was\n for Martha. Mom couldn't have coped with seeing the expression on \nMartha's face if she had given anything less than that.

Not that Martha had any problems in writing me a check for ten dollars every birthday (when she actually remembered.)

I\n complained once that as rich as Martha was, she only ever gave me ten \ndollars. My mom was appalled at how ungrateful I was being. Somehow, the\n irony was lost on her that as poor as she was, she managed to find \nfifty dollars for Shannon.

Whatever. Once I was a professional novelist, all these humiliations would be put to positive use.

Keep dreaming, freak.

I\n ignored the devil on my shoulder, always whispering negativity in my \near, always ready to remind me how worthless I was. I couldn't allow it \nto affect me. Not today. I had to be strong or I'd never make it.

Martha\n soon appeared wearing a black and white mini-patchwork open blazer with\n black and gold buttons and shoulder pads over a black, tight-fit body \nsuit with a low crop top, gold trim, and a wide Chanel buckle belt, and a\n chunky gold statement necklace. The heels of her leather crush boots \nelevated her stature above my mom who noticeably shrank in her sister's \npresence.

Martha gave us a formal smile and leaned in to kiss my \nmom on each of her cheeks making loud \"mwah mwah\" noises. Mom blushed \nand went to kiss her back but Martha had already moved away leaving my \nmom foolishly kissing at air.

\"So glad you could make it,\" she \nsaid, then turned her attention to me. \"My my, Julia. Haven't you grown \nsince the last time I saw you.\"

I likewise blushed. Martha knew \nfull well I wasn't taller. I'd stopped gaining height at sixteen. I knew\n she was talking about my weight. Martha leaned in to give me an awkward\n hug and a single pat on the back. She smelled decadent. Rosewood, \ncarnation, and sandalwood.

\"Nice to see you, Aunt Martha,\" I said, maintaining the formal interaction. I always felt like my existence somehow annoyed her.

She quickly turned back to Mom. \"So,\" she said, opening her arms to show off the carnival. \"What do you think?\"

Mom's\n smile was the same defeated, dead smile she reserved for all her \ninteractions with Martha. \"Really amazing. I think this is even more \nimpressive than last year.\"

\"Of course, silly. This is Shannon's \neighteenth. She's an adult woman now. I want her to remember this night \nfor the rest of her life.\"

\"I'm sure she will. This is wonderful.\"

Martha\n dismissed the compliment with a flick of her wrist. \"We're just getting\n started. We have a grand fireworks display planned that would make \nGatsby himself green with envy.\"

\"I can't wait.\"

Martha smirked.

\"So, um, where is the birthday girl?\"

\"Oh,\n she's with her friends somewhere. Julia, be a dear and go and find her \nwill you.\" She checked the time on her giant gold Rolex. \"She should \nprobably open her presents soon.\"

Mom nodded at me to get going.

I\n told myself I might have at least eye-rolled in rebellion had I not \npromised to be on my best behavior, but deep down I knew that was a lie.\n I was always going to do what Aunt Martha wanted. I'd adopted Mom's \ninferiority complex as my own.

It was a struggle to maneuver \nthrough the crowd. Those girls seemed entitled to take up as much space \nas they could, walking with their friends in large groups and expecting \nme to step aside without even a glance of recognition. It was no big \ndeal. I was used to it. It wasn't as if the girls at my school treated \nme any better.

I spotted Shannon with some of her friends firing \npellet guns at moving targets in a shooting gallery. They all cheered as\n Shannon pinged one off a bullseye, sparking a burst of confetti. The \nbalding stall owner applauded her enthusiastically.

She looked as \npretty as she always did. She had a petite and feminine frame and held \nherself with the same confident poise as her mother. Her smile was \nimpossibly adorable and lit up any room she entered. Her skin glowed \nwith the memory of her latest Caribbean vacation. She wore a V-neck \ncardigan over an open-collared white blouse that showed an elegant \namount of cleavage. She had a pleated mini-skirt, knee-high socks, and \nblack, Mary Jane pumps.

\"Hey, Shannon,\" I said as friendly as I could. \"Great party.\"

Shannon\n glanced back at me with disgust. Her friends all turned and quickly \nburst into fits of laughter. They looked just as preppy as she did.

\"What is that?\" said one of them.

Shannon rolled her eyes. \"Urf. She's my gross cousin.\"

\"Ew, why does she look like that?\"

\"She's like poor or something. I don't know. I try not to think about her.\"

\"I can't believe you're related.\"

I\n stood awkwardly as they all took turns mocking my appearance. They were\n like vipers, pouncing on my weaknesses. My cheeks turned crimson. This \nwas how all my interactions with Shannon went.

Her friends continued. \"Why is she even here?\"

Shannon\n sighed. \"My mom made me invite her. I think she feels sorry for her or \nsomething. Nobody likes her. She doesn't even have any friends.\"

They all had a good laugh about this.

Shannon\n smirked and pointed the pellet gun at me. \"Your poor ass mom had better\n had gotten me something better than fifty worthless dollars.\"

I \nblushed. Fifty dollars was huge to me. I also knew what a sacrifice it \nwas for my mom to do that for her every birthday and Christmas. Not that\n there was any point trying to argue with her about it. \"I, uh, don't \nreally know. Your mom is looking for you, though.\"

\"Humph. Probably time to open my presents. Do you want to see me open all my presents, loser?\"

I\n shrugged. I didn't understand why my cousin was so mean to me all the \ntime but it had always been the same. I really didn't like \nconfrontation. I'd discovered from an early age that speaking up only \nmade her bullying worse.

Shannon pulled the trigger of her gun and shot a pellet at my cheek.

I flinched and reached up to caress down the sting.

She smirked as her friends all laughed. \"I asked you a question, nerd,\" she said, firing again, this time barely missing my eye.

The stall holder reached to grab the gun. \"Hey,\" he said, \"stop that! Those aren't toys.\"

Shannon\n snatched it away, turning to him angrily. \"Don't you dare try and touch\n me! My mom is paying for all this including you. That makes me your \nboss. If you try and stop me having fun on my birthday again I'll have \nyou fired.\"

The man reddened and looked down ashamed. \"Sorry, Miss.\"

Shannon smirked triumphantly and fired a pellet at him which ricocheted off his forehead, drawing blood.

I\n was embarrassed for myself and him. I was grateful he had tried to \nstand up for me, but I was sure he was wishing he had just kept his \nmouth shut after being so easily put in his place by Shannon. Aunt \nMartha must have been paying him a lot of money for him to put up with \nthis abuse.

\"Alright,\" said Shannon, throwing down the gun. \"I'm bored of this now. I'm ready for my presents.\"

She\n led her gang to the stage and I followed a safe distance away, staring \nat the back of their legs, admiring how beautiful they were. My eyes \nwere especially drawn to Shannon's smooth and tanned thighs. I imagined \nher moisturizing and exfoliating to bring out that shine. My eyes \nwandered down her knee-high socks to the back of her Mary Jane pumps. \nShe looked so adorable. For a brief second, I imagined what it might be \nlike to have her stomping on my stomach, wiping her dirty soles on my \ndress.

That's right, whispered the devil on my shoulder, you belong under her feet.

There\n was sick churning in my stomach and a tingling excitement in my pussy. \nWasn't that some kind of weird incest? I tried to think of something \nelse. I looked at the different stalls and smelled the fresh donuts, but\n my eyes quickly wandered back to Shannon's feet, allured by the taboo.

They're\n right about everything they say you know, you are gross. What do you \nthink they'd say if they knew you were getting aroused right now?

\"Shut up,\" I whispered.

They\n hate you. Everybody hates you. You're so fat and ugly. I bet you'll go \nhome tonight and play with yourself thinking about Shannon. What kind of\n sick fuck does that?

I tried not to listen but the devil continued.

The\n girls at school are right when they call you a skank and a dyke. \nRemember that time before gym when you stayed behind in the locker room \nto sniff inside their shoes? What would Shannon say if she knew that? \nYou should tell her.

\"No.\"

Tell her!

\"No!\"

Shannon\n and her friends stopped and turned to me at my sudden outburst. Their \npretty faces were contorted in disgust. I blushed and tried to smile it \noff as no big deal.

\"Ew,\" said one of her friends, \"is she like retarded or something?\"

\"Sorry,\" I said, \"I thought I'd forgotten something, but I guess it's cool. No big.\"

Shannon\n exchanged a look with her friend and shook her head as if to ask how \nanybody could be that much of a freak and then continued over to the \nstage.

If only she knew.

I breathed relief. As \nembarrassing as that was, it could have been so much worse. The last \nthing I needed was for Shannon to discover I talked to an invisible \ndevil on my shoulder.

A crowd had gathered by the base of the \nstage. I saw my mom at the front in conversation with Aunt Martha. Or, \nmore accurately, Mom was talking and Aunt Martha was disinterestedly \ninspecting her manicure. She interrupted my mom when she saw Shannon \nmoving through the crowd like Moses parting the sea.

\"Are you ready, Princess?\" she asked.

Mom looked hurt, but soon her dead smile returned to her face.

\"I guess so,\" said Shannon, joining her mom and giving her a hug.

\"Happy birthday, Shannon,\" said Mom.

Shannon\n did not even look at her. \"Guess what?\" she said to Martha, \"Julia \nvolunteered to hand me all my presents to open. Isn't that sweet of \nher?\"

Shannon's friends all snickered at me. I glanced nervously \nat my mom who gave me a nod and an encouraging smile. My mouth went dry.\n There was no way I could refuse. I'd made a promise.

\"Wonderful,\" exclaimed Martha. \"That will be such a huge help. Thank you, Julia.\"

She\n clicked her fingers in the direction of the DJ booth and an \nannouncement interrupted the music to direct everyone to the stage.

Shannon\n sauntered up the steps and I followed, feeling sweaty under the \nspotlight. I hated being the center of attention. I could see girls in \nthe crowd pointing and laughing at me, whispering to each other as if to\n ask who that freak was following Shannon.

The DJ led everybody in\n a round of applause for the birthday girl. Shannon waved to them with a\n big smile on her face. She sat on her baby pink throne and crossed her \nlegs, bobbing her foot. The back-and-forth motion was almost hypnotic.

She turned to me and spoke quietly enough so only I could hear. \"Start with the biggest one.\"

The order sent my pussy tingling. I nodded and pushed the largest one over the stage to her throne.

Shannon\n paid no attention to who the gift was from, tearing at the glossy paper\n greedily to reveal a state-of-the-art Sony LBT-905 Hi-Fi System.

I\n was immediately jealous. I had to make do with a crappy cassette \nplayer. How awesome would the brooding lyrics of Kurt Cobain sound on \nthat?

Shannon was unimpressed. \"Okay, next.\"

I felt bad for \nwhoever had bought her that. It wasn't cheap. I guessed Shannon didn't \ncare much for music. I figured she listened to what was popular, not \nbecause she liked it, but because it was popular. Appearances mattered \nto her more than anything.

I handed her the next gift and the same\n routine played out. She ignored the label and ripped it open to reveal a\n brand new Super Nintendo gaming system.

She scoffed and dropped it by her side. \"Ew. What am I? Twelve?\"

It\n continued. I would pass her a gift and she would greet it with the same\n indifference or outright annoyance. I felt like a complete idiot \nrushing back and forth from the diminishing pile of presents back to her\n throne like I was her personal servant.

Plenty for you to masturbate to later, freak.

There \nwas a Sony video Walkman she declared as \"nerd stuff.\" Various VHS tapes\n and CDs she couldn't have cared less about and even some books she \nreally couldn't have cared less about.

It broke my heart a bit to \nsee her toss away Stephen King's new novel \"Needful Things,\" the first \nhe'd written since his accident. I'd been looking forward to reading \nthat one for months and Shannon had discarded it in her pile without a \nsecond glance.

I couldn't believe how ungrateful she was, and even\n harder to believe was how everyone was just enabling it without any \nhint of reprimand as though this behavior was completely normal and \nacceptable.

There were some gifts she liked. There was a bottle of Cašmir (Eau de Parfum)\n which she excitedly declared was the perfume of the year before \nspraying it on her wrists and smelling it. There was some jewelry she \nappeared pleased by, and a diamond quilted Chanel Shoulder bag and \nmatching purse that received her approval.

After opening more \ngifts than I could count, she got around to the cards. I gathered a \nhandful and passed them to her. She ripped open the envelopes and opened\n the cards without reading to grab the money inside.

My eyes were \nwide as I saw how many hundred dollar bills she was accumulating. She \nwas amassing a small fortune. More money than my mom made in a month. It\n wasn't fair. Shannon was already rich. Why did she need any of that?

The\n worst was when I saw her open our card and saw a hundred-dollar bill \nslip out. It was double what Mom had given me for my eighteenth. I'd \nbeen so grateful for that fifty, knowing what a sacrifice it was for her\n to afford that. For Shannon, it was nothing. Just another hundred \ndollars she was entitled to just because she was Shannon.

But she's so pretty and you're so ugly. Who deserves that money more?

Once\n she'd opened the last card, the DJ led the crowd in the 'Happy \nBirthday' song as balloons and confetti dropped and fireworks erupted \nelectric pink and violet in the sky. It was the largest display I'd \nseen, like something you'd expect to see in Times Square when the New \nYear's ball dropped. There were cheers from the excited audience.

Martha\n walked up on stage, applauding along with the rest of them. She moved \npast me as if I wasn't even there with no word of thanks for scurrying \naround handing her daughter presents.

I flushed with annoyance as I\n saw everything Shannon had received in a pile surrounded by torn paper \nand empty boxes. Shannon was counting her money with a smirk on her \nface. How was Aunt Martha not embarrassed to give me ten dollars? She \nmust have known how insulting it was when her own daughter got ten times\n that amount from us. Did she get off on treating us this way?

Don't you?

My pussy tingled, much to my shame.

Martha hushed the crowd and then turned to her daughter, smiling. \"There is one more special surprise for the birthday girl.\"

Shannon's smirk became a grin.

Martha reached into the pocket of her blazer and produced a set of car keys on a Bentley key chain. She dangled them playfully.

Shannon rose from her throne and gave her mom a huge hug. There was more enthusiastic applause from her guests.

\"Really?\" she asked, \"it's the one I wanted?\"

Martha\n smiled indulgently. \"Sure is, princess.\" She motioned with her arms and\n a floodlight immediately switched on to illuminate an area of grass \nslightly away from the carnival where a dark gold Bentley Continental R \nwith a SHANNON3 personalized license plate was parked.

Shannon gasped and excitedly bounded off the stage and across the lawn to inspect her new vehicle.

The crowd followed in procession as if she were a holy prophet.

I\n was happy the attention had moved away from the stage. I looked for my \nmom and saw her being swept along with everyone else. She waved at me to\n follow.

The last thing I wanted was to coo over Shannon's new \ncar, but I felt like an idiot standing alone on stage so I decided to \nplod over and join the others.

Shannon was already sitting on the \nplush leather driver's seat, gripping her hands around the sculpted, \ndual-tone leather steering wheel.

Martha was explaining the \nfeatures with a satisfied smirk on her face. \"It has a Rolls-Royce V8 \nengine that can go from zero to sixty in less than three seconds and has\n a top speed of a hundred and fifty miles per hour.\"

Shannon grinned and revved the monstrous engine.

My\n mom maneuvered through the bodies to place herself next to her sister. \n\"Wow, Martha,\" she said cheerily, \"what an amazing gift, \ncongratulations.\"

I blushed, unsure what my mom was congratulating\n Martha for. Having inherited an obscene amount of money from her dead \nhusband to afford to buy her eighteen-year-old daughter a dream car?

Martha ignored her. \"Step out of the car, princess. There's a professional photographer here to take some pictures.\"

Shannon\n stepped out and posed next to her new car as the photographer snapped \npictures. She was joined by her mother and then her friends. They had a \ngreat time sprawling over the bodywork like they were auditioning for an\n MTV video. Shannon even got her wad of cash out and flaunted it for the\n camera, pouting her lips and fanning herself as her friends all laughed\n along with her bratty antics. The hundred-dollar bill my mom had \nsacrificed for was nothing but a prop to her.

Mom meanwhile, had slunk away into the background, writhing her hands nervously with that awful dead smile on her face.

The\n party extended beyond the carnival and into the mansion where Shannon \nand her besties were treated to a triple bill of her favorite movies via\n a projector and surround sound speakers to create a cinematic \nexperience.

They all sat on comfy beanbags, munching on buttery \npopcorn and slurping their slushies as they laughed along to 'Breakfast \nClub,' 'Pretty in Pink,' and 'St Elmo's Fire,' even voicing the lines of\n the actors.

I stood awkwardly at the back. Not only did I hate \nthose dumb comedies but I always felt deeply uncomfortable inside \nMartha's mansion.

The custom hardwood floors, coffered ceilings, \nextensive millwork, and Egyptian-inspired murals, rugs, and statuettes \nmade me uneasy like my presence was making the place look untidy.

It\n didn't help that Mom was so on edge. She moused around the place as if \nafraid she might accidentally damage something. Granted, she could never\n have afforded to replace anything she broke, but I didn't understand \nwhy she was suddenely so worried about being a clutz.

I'd been \nhoping we would leave as soon as the carnival was over. Shannon clearly \ndidn't want us there. Occasionally, she would glance around to see if I \nwas still there and pull a face when she saw me. I glanced away, \npretending not to notice.

I saw Mom deep in conversation with Aunt\n Martha. She was using hushed tones so as to not interrupt the movie, \nclasping her hands together as if begging. Even her eyes appeared glassy\n as if she was ready to break down in tears.

Martha seemed \nannoyed. Her hands were on her hips, and she towered over my mom in her \nhigh heels. The power imbalance between the sisters could not have been \nmore obvious.

I felt terrible seeing Mom like that. I could only \nassume she was asking for money. I hadn't realized things had gotten so \nbad. Mom had always made a point to avoid asking her sister for \nanything. She would rather have struggled and gone without than degrade \nherself in that way. She'd always prided herself on never having taken a\n handout from anybody as if being underpaid and undervalued was a mark \nof honor.

I couldn't stand it. I had to get away. I was starting \nto feel nauseous. The way my mom described Martha growing up, she was \nalways the pretty one, the popular one, and my grandparents' favorite. \nIt wasn't fair.

The sooner I went to college and started my \nwriting career the better. I had to work hard to help Mom escape this \ncycle of inferiority with her sister.

Yeah right. As if you could ever amount to anything, freak.

I departed the living room with no destination in mind, just knowing I had to get away.

Across\n the walls were various framed photographs of Martha and Shannon \nshowcasing their vacations to cultural and exotic locations. There was \nShannon at Disneyworld hugging Micky Mouse, Martha in her bikini \nlounging by the pool, Shannon holding up the Leaning Tower of Pisa, the \ntwo of them wearing berets outside the Eiffel Tower, and many more. The \nfarthest I'd ever traveled was Myrtle Beach.

Their favorite \ndestination was clearly Egypt. There were more pictures of them next to \nthe Pyramids, the Sphynx, Luxor's temples, and Abu Simbel. There were \neven fully painted murals depicting them both as Egyptian queens \ncomplete with golden headdresses, black eyeliner, and jewels. Their \nregal expressions looked down on me as if judging me unworthy.

You are unworthy.

I\n hurried away, more unsettled than ever. I headed up a spiral staircase \nsearching for a bathroom where I could splash my face in cold water and \nhide for a while.

I opened the first door I came to, not realizing\n it led straight into Shannon's bedroom. After all, it wasn't as if \nShannon had ever invited me inside before. I knew it was wrong, but I \nwas too curious to leave. I wanted to see how my rich cousin lived.

A\n fluffy rug lay on the cream-carpeted floor. The walls were wallpapered \nin pastel pink and magnolia stripes. There was a four-poster, king-sized\n bed with a pink and white patchwork quilt, and large, plush pillows.

She\n had her own living area with pink couches facing a large television and\n an entire bookcase filled with VHS tapes. She already owned a high-tech\n stereo system with hundreds of CDs and Vinyl which made the new stereo I\n was so jealous of completely superfluous.

Her vanity table had \nevery type of cosmetic product I could imagine. An Apple Powerbook 100 \nwas on her desk. She even had a landline phone by her bed.

Everything\n was immaculate as if cut from a glossy homelife magazine. It must have \nbeen the work of their maid. I knew Shannon had never vacuumed in her \nlife. There was even a pleasant scent of musk and sugared petals.

Her\n closet door was wide open and I couldn't resist taking a peek. It was \nlarger than my entire bedroom. She had so many clothes she could have \nworn a different outfit every day of the year and still left things \nuntouched.

It was her extensive collection of shoes that really \ndrew my eye. They were laid out on a low shelf as if on display at a \nhigh-end boutique. There were all sorts of boots, sneakers, sandals, and\n pumps.

A pair of white leather statement block heels drew my eye.\n They looked incredible and I could only imagine how sexy Shannon's legs\n would look in them.

Nobody is here. I know you want to.

I bit my lip and my pussy tingled. I wiped my sweaty hands down my dress and picked one up as if it were the holy grail.

Go on. This is your only chance to do this. Don't you want to know how she smells? Just a quick one. No one will know.

I\n gulped and my heart beat fast as I slowly guided the insole to my nose.\n I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. It smelled of expensive leather \nand the slightest tang of socks. It was amazing.

There. Doesn't that feel better?

I\n directed my hand up the skirt of my dress to rub my finger around my \nclit. The wrongness of what I was doing was only adding to my \nexcitement. My body shivered at the thrill.

See? She's better than you in every way, isn't she? You want to worship her, don't you?

I nodded into the insole.

Then open your eyes, freak.

\"What the fuck?\" said Shannon.

I\n yelped and immediately dropped the shoe in my panic to see Shannon \nstanding in the doorway of the closet with her arms folded over her \nchest and a hateful look on her face, tapping her foot.

\"Sh-Shannon,\"\n I said breathlessly. My heart dropped as I realized my hand was still \nup my skirt. I retracted it quickly and stared at my cousin in horror. \n\"This...this isn't what it looks like.\"

Shannon's expression reminded me of how she'd appeared in that Egyptian mural: cold, calculating, and imperial.

\"It isn't?\" she said, \"cus it sure looks like you were masturbating to the smell of my shoe.\"

I blushed. \"N-no, it wasn't like that.\"

\"Then show me.\"

\"Wh-what?\"

\"Lift up your skirt and show me your panties.\"

I shook my head, tears forming in my eyes.

\"You'll do it, loser, or I'll tell everyone what I caught you doing. My mom, my friends, your mom. Everyone.\"

I\n was a horrible liar at the best of times. There was no way I could \ncompete against Shannon's force of personality. I saw the hurt on my \nmom's face to know her daughter got off on smelling the shoes of her \nsister's daughter. It would not exactly help her inferiority complex. \nNot to mention how angry Aunt Martha would be. There was no way she \nwould help us after something like that.

I'd promised Mom to be on\n my best behavior. How could I have done this to her? Would she ever \nforgive me? How long would it take for the rumors to spread from Shannon\n and her friends to the girls at my own school? I'd be a laughing stock.\n If I became a famous novelist, the tales of my fetish would resurface. \nI'd never escape it.

Kind of a turn-on, isn't it, freak?

My\n bottom lip trembled as I lifted up my skirt to show her my boyshorts. \nSure enough, a wet splotch on my crotch had darkened the cotton.

Shannon smirked. \"You're so fucking gross.\"

I nodded. At least she was smiling. It gave me hope I could still escape this.

Shannon\n walked up to me, lifted her foot, and tapped the toe of her Mary Jane \npump against my crotch. \"So,\" she said, \"what is it about my shoes that \nturns you on?\"

I held up my skirt since she hadn't told me to drop it. It gave her a clear aim. \"I-I don't know.\"

\"Yes, you do. And be honest. I'll know if you're lying.\"

I\n gulped. \"I...really don't know...I guess because I could never afford \nshoes like that and well...you're so much richer and...prettier than me.\n I, uh, feel submissive about it?\"

Shannon suddenly kicked me as \nhard as she could in my pussy. The explosion of pain took my breath \naway. I collapsed onto my knees and clutched where she'd struck.

Shannon\n watched me writhe beneath her in amusement. \"Jesus. I mean, obviously, I\n knew you were a weirdo, but this is something else. I didn't realize \nyou were one of those freaks that gets off on being dominated.\"

I sniffled. \"I'm sorry, Shannon. Please don't tell anyone.\"

\"Let's see how sorry you are.\" She clicked her fingers and pointed down at the toe of the shoe she'd kicked me with.

I\n cautiously leaned down to place my palms on the floor and crawled on \nall fours to her feet. I really was sorry. Sorry, I was such a \ndisgusting freak. Sorry, I'd been caught.

Shannon placed her hands on her hips and stared down at me like I was less than an insect.

Her\n Mary Jane pumps gleamed with polish. Their t-strap silhouettes looked \npainfully cute over her socks. I leaned in close and planted dry kisses \nover the expensive leather.

\"You know,\" said Shannon, \"it's pretty\n funny. I knew you were up to no good when you snuck out of the movie. I\n just figured you were looking for something to steal, you know since \nyou're so poor.\"

I continued to kiss, ashamed and more aroused than ever. The wet splotch on my boyshorts was definitely expanding.

Look at you. You're so pathetic. You're kissing the shoes of your own cousin. What's wrong with you? I hate you.

Shannon\n continued, oblivious to the devil on my shoulder. \"I already knew I was\n better than you, but this is kind of crazy, isn't it? It's like I'm a \nqueen and you're my slave.\"

Say yes.

\"Yes (kiss)\"

\"Your Majesty,\" corrected Shannon.

I sniffled. \"Y-yes, Your Majesty.\"

Shannon clapped her hands and laughed.

Doesn't that feel amazing?

I blinked tears down my cheeks and continued to kiss her shoes. As much as I hated it, my pussy couldn't lie.

\"Hmmm,\"\n mused Shannon. \"And what should I call you? Slave? No, that doesn't \nseem right. Let's see, you're poor, ugly, dirty, and gross. I know! You \ncan be the peasant. Yes, I'm a queen and you're just a filthy peasant. \nIsn't that perfect?\"

\"Yes (kiss) thank you (kiss) Your Majesty.\"

Shannon\n laughed again. \"Wow. This'll be so much fun. As your queen, my word is \ngreater than that of God. You're going to do exactly what I say from now\n on. If you don't, I'll tell everyone you're a whore for my shoes. Don't\n even think for a second I'm bluffing. Think I care about you or your \npoor ass mom? I'll make sure this gross fetish follows you wherever you \ngo. School, college, work. I'll find out where you are and make sure \neveryone knows. You'll be a laughing stock for the rest of your life. \nI'll fucking destroy you.\"

\"Yes (kiss) Your Majesty.\"

\"Then turn around.\"

I\n did as she said without hesitation. I knew that with each new \ndegeneracy, my recovery would be harder and harder. Did I really want \nShannon to blackmail me like this? I knew it would only get worse the \nlonger I allowed it to happen.

We both know you do. You can't hide from me, freak.

\"Pull down your underwear.\"

I obeyed, wriggling them down below my thighs.

\"Show me that fat ass.\"

I\n sniffled and hitched up my skirt to show my new queen my bare bottom. I\n felt the excitement flow through my blood, chilling me into a quiver.

Shannon giggled and squatted behind me, lifting both her arms, and swatting her palms down hard on my vulnerable buttocks.

She\n was stronger than she looked. She repeatedly slapped me, turning my ass\n cheeks red, and making them jiggle. I yelped after each one, blubbering\n like a naughty child.

\"This is just the beginning,\" she declared, \"you're mine now.\"

Thank her.

\"Th...thank you...Your Majesty.\"

Once\n she'd spanked my ass raw, she finally let up, rising back to her feet \nand placing her hands back on her hips in the same posture of power I'd \nseen Aunt Martha employ in her interactions with my mom.

\"Go fix yourself up. You look even grosser than normal.\"

Prostrated\n on all fours with my soaked underwear around my thighs, my bare ass, \nred and throbbing, with tears trickling from my puffy eyes, I must have \nlooked worse than an embarrassment.

\"You can meet me back in the living room. I've got an idea so follow my lead.\"

\"Yes, Your Majesty.\"

Shannon grinned and presented her pump for me to place one final respectful kiss on her toe.

\"Okay, peasant,\" she declared imperiously, \"get going.\"

I\n crawled around her and out of the closet on all fours with my boyshorts\n still around my thighs. Shannon sure had a good laugh at that.

It was a nightmare, but the devil was right. I'd never been so aroused in my life.

I scurried quickly out of Shannon's bedroom and across the landing, opening doors until I'd found the bathroom.

I\n stayed on the floor and finished what I'd started, desperately rubbing \nover my clit, thinking of every degradation I'd suffered. It was \nincredible. My eyes rolled back and I gasped, breathlessly, squirting \nonto the bathroom floor.

This is the best sex you'll ever have, freak.

\"Yes,\" I whispered. \"Yes, it is.\"

Don't leave a mess. Show some respect. Lick it up.

I\n was in a post-orgasm haze as slithered back over the floor and leaned \ndown to lap up my juices from the tiles. I felt so dirty and pathetic, \nbut at the same time, it felt right, like this was where I belonged, on \nmy hands and knees licking my cum from the bathroom floor of my rich \naunt and cousin.

Once it was clean, I stood and splashed my face \nin water. I pulled my underwear back up and felt the cold wetness on my \ncrotch. I was beginning to feel human and less like a pig. Guilt and \nfear were quickly replacing my arousal.

Too late for that. You've really fucked up this time.

Shannon\n was as vindictive as she was spoiled. She would absolutely follow \nthrough on her threats. My place in college and my career as a writer \nwould be in jeopardy. Who would ever take me seriously?

I felt I \nhad no choice but to obey her. My hope was she'd get bored of me once we\n were in college. I just had to survive until then.

I made my way \ndownstairs with cautious optimism. Things weren't as bad as they seemed.\n Shannon had to adhere to society's rules. She couldn't exactly parade \nme around in public. If I just avoided situations where we were alone, \nthere was only so far she could push me.

When I entered the living room, I saw the movie paused on a close-up of Molly Ringwald.

Everyone\n stared at me. My stomach knotted as I feared for a moment they somehow \nknew, but when they all turned away I realized they were simply waiting \nfor Shannon.

My mom approached. \"Where have you been?\" she whispered.

\"I just used the restroom. No big deal.\"

My\n mom studied me and I blushed. There was no way she could suspect \nanything, but the embarrassment of what Shannon had made me do combined \nwith the throbbing on my ass cheeks made me glance nervously down at my \nfeet.

Luckily, Shannon arrived before my mom could ask me any more questions.

\"Hiiii,\n auntie,\" she said with sickening fake sweetness, bounding up to us and \ngiving my mom a light peck on her cheek. \"Thank you soooo much for my \nbirthday money.\"

The gratitude and relief on my mom's face was heartbreaking.

\"Oh, you're so welcome, dear. Just let me know what you buy with it.\"

I\n cringed. My mom was so happy she was completely missing that Shannon \nwas mocking her. I caught Aunt Martha snickering behind them.

Shannon\n batted her long eyelashes. \"You know, I was thinking, it would be soooo\n much fun if Julia came with me and my friends shopping tomorrow. Maybe \nshe can help me choose what to spend it on?\"

Mom glanced at me and\n then back to Shannon. She was as dumbfounded as me. Shannon had never \nonce asked me to do anything with her, ever.

Martha waltzed over, \nwith a glass of wine in her hand. \"What a wonderful idea, princess. You \ncan show Julia all your favorite stores.\"

Shannon reached behind my back and pinched my skin, jabbing in her nails.

I gulped and smiled. \"S-sure. That...sounds like fun. Th-thank you.\"

\"You're sooo welcome,\" she cooed, twisting the skin on my back until I yelped.

My mom stared at me, but I quickly disarmed her suspicion with a nervous chuckle.

\"Splendid,\" proclaimed Martha, \"in fact, since our daughters will be spending the day together, we ought to do something too.

My mom's eyes widened and she smiled hopefully. \"R-really Martha?\"

\"How does lunch sound? I know a fabulous little French bistro over on Main Street.\"

\"That...sounds amazing.\"

\"Perhaps we can discuss your little...problem?\"

Mom's eyes welled with grateful tears. \"Really? Thank you, Martha. Thank you so much.\"

Martha\n shrugged. \"I haven't agreed to anything yet, mind you. We'll discuss \nit. But I may have a proposal we can both be satisfied with.\"

\"You won't regret this, Martha.\"

My mom either didn't notice or chose not to notice the smirk on my aunt's lips as she took a sip of her wine.

I\n knew then we were deep in trouble. But if I'd known then how bad things\n were going to get, would I have made different decisions? Would I have \njust confessed then and there to what I'd done and accepted the \nconsequences? As humiliating as it would have been, my life may yet have\n been salvaged.

Ha! We both know you'd have done it all exactly the same. Don't pretend with me, freak.

It's\n true. I can't hide myself from the devil on my shoulder. As miserable \nas my life has been since then, I wouldn't change a damned thing.

","authorName":"Summer Gold","authorUserId":"2e69afe6-9ca5-4ea8-bff9-eef688772ce1","rating":0,"ratingCount":0,"reviewCount":0,"quoteCount":0,"storyCodes":["Heavy","High School","Real Life","18yo","Bratty","Domination","Feet","Humiliation","Incest","Masochism","Sadism","Spanking","Submission","Blackmail","CNC"],"language":"English","readTime":37,"recommendations":[{"id":"874e3a46-179f-43b0-8cc7-b804d15e799c","title":"Helping Mandy With Her Projects","slug":"helping-mandy-with-her-projects","shortId":"xjw4sOYU","synopsis":"A dad helps his daughter with her projects. She especially needs help with follow-through. I would love to hear your thoughts about this story!","rating":5},{"id":"44ebefec-3d0b-4f98-9959-31424b298fcb","title":"An Increasingly Absurd Series of Wagers","slug":"an-increasingly-absurd-series-of-wagers","shortId":"zXTclpZd","synopsis":"His daughter and her friend seem to have made a series of wagers about his sexual predilections and limits. They spend the evening working hard to win and lose, those bets. The payouts grow quickly. Things escalate to an absolutely absurd degree. What a bunch of disturbingly erotic nonsense.","rating":5},{"id":"964f1717-ac5c-486e-a5c5-f2ef2068fec9","title":"A Mother's Lesson","slug":"a-mothers-lesson","shortId":"nGPzWgvC","synopsis":"A Mother in her 40's going through a rebellious mid-life crisis which includes irresponsible alcoholism, gets taught the lesson of her lifetime by her teenage daughter's boyfriend.","rating":5}]}}},"actionData":null,"errors":null}