A Goth Club

Dark, dark, stars, stars, clouds, clouds, light! Lots of lights! A city of some kind! And I'm really moving! Old Hermes got nothing on me! Getting closer! Closer! Whoa! Too close! Too close!

I crash into a collection of metal urns outside the door to some sort of stone house, knocking them all over. Ugh! They're filled with refuse, garbage! Garbage urns!

What is this place? I can feel the presence of a lot of people inside. Young people. Some sort of festival house for young humans! Perfect! They're always up for a little wine and ecstatic dancing. First I'd better metamorphose and hide my goat legs and tail. I don't want to stand out till I find out what's going on.

It's some sort of strange festival of and destruction as far as I can tell. All these young people are dressed in black and wearing black makeup on their faces. They all seem very unhappy and melancholy. At the far end of a big dark room there are some musicians struggling with some sort of lyres and drums. It sounds like they're trying to destroy them. So loud!

Well, if everyone's wearing black, I'll go along. There we are, now I'm all in black. And once I get used to the barbaric tongue of these youngsters, I can understand what they say, though it doesn't make a lot of sense. Something about Goths and vampires? Whatever. Where are the maidens?

Ah, there we go: there's a bevy of them now. But they all look so sorrowful and joyless. "Maidens, maidens all! Do not tremble as the Great God Pan approaches, but worship, worship with joy and dance! Sing, Io, Pan! Io! as did the maidens on the Attic shore and on the slopes of proud Olympus!"

"Who're you?" one of them says.

"Fuck off." says a second.

"Ass hole!" volunteers a third.

How irreligious these young people have become! But perhaps they do not recognize me.

"A dance!" I say to the first.

"Yeah right." she says. "You look like the janitor at my school. How cool is that?"

Not to be dissuaded, I shall dance for them, for no one can resist the dance of Pan! Without changing my form I leap into the air, spin, leap, kick my heels as I used to dance in the wild mountains of Argos, on the plains of ancient Ellas, leaping from table to table in the crowded hall, glowing with my sacred light, my hair wreathed again in laurel and ivy. High above the mortal press, how good it feels to dance again, up the walls and across the ceiling, bouncing off the heads of the taller, across the dais where the musicians stand in wonder. Io Pan! Io Pan! Io Pan! Pan!

The room had grown still. The musicians have stopped. All eyes are upon the immortal Pan, lord of the wild things! And now I show them! My clothes fall away, my legs revert to their true nature, my horns emerge, and in my hand is my sacred styryx, my shepherds' pipe.
The mortals stare at me. I can see their mouths all open, and as I raise my pipes to my lips, someone calls out, "Hey it's Satan!"

"Hey Satan!" "SATAN!" "It's the devil!" "Satan my dark lord and master!"

And suddenly they're all reaching for me and clamoring for me, though who this 'Satan' is, I have no idea. I must escape, there shall surely be a riot!

Someone grabs my hand "Gimme your autograph, Satan? I'm your biggest fucking fan!" "Satan! Fuck me! Marry me!" "Hail mighty Satan!"
I've got to get out of here! These people are insane!

Waving my hands over them I charge them with holy Panic, the nameless fear of the wild places, and suddenly they're all crying like babies and streaming for the exits, fighting and pulling at one another to escape. In two mighty leaps I am at the portico to this evil temple, and there I see my three maidens once more.

"Come with me, my dears!" I say, and gathering them in my burly arms, I leap over the crowd and out the door, where, with a few more leaps I put them down in a parkland.

"That was so cool!" one of them says

"Are you really the devil?" asks the second.

"Can I touch your horns?" asks the third.

Their names are Jennifer, Jessica, and Kaitland, and away from the press of that place I can 1see their feminine charms through their black robes and capes, and immediately I am erect.

I merely have to touch them each with my mighty phallus and they are mine for the taking. They fall on the ground, writhing and begging for my love, for the love of Pan.