Oct 302013

suckubeth2clr“Greetings mortals! It is me, Suckubeth, the demon ghost you want the most! With me as always is my Flaming-Skull-on-a-Stick companion, Burny.”

“It is the day before Halloween! The walls between worlds are at their weakest! It is a time for spirits to posses bodies! It is the time for clowns to kill people! It is the time for creepy sex dolls! Flee for your lives!”

“That’s right Burny, but do you know what else happens on Halloween? People dress up in sexy costumes and bang the hit out of each other. Which is why I am presenting today’s story, Someone Wicked.”

“Oh, I like that one!”

“What? Really Burny? No dire warnings of how it will melt people’s souls?”

“Well, it is a sexy story and fuck the readers. They lost their souls the first time they look at your haunted tits.”

“So true, Burny.”

“Read on, mortals.”

Gabrielle was quiet as the car pulled up to the house. She sat in the passenger seat with butterflies in her stomach. Terror gripped her as she watched other costumed people join the party. Could she really go through with this?

“You look sexy,” Dominic said. He was her sponsor so his judgment was important.

“Thank you,” she said. She did feel sexy. Dressed as a pirate, she was wearing a black bikini top and white skull and crossbones over her brown breasts. A red and black skirt wrapped around her round bottom and covered the top of her thighs. Her tall brown legs were covered with knee high black boots. A red scarf covered her head and her black hair peaked from under it. Silver skulls dangled from her earrings.

“Remember,” Dominic said. “You must stay at the party until midnight. If you leave early, you forfeit your chance at becoming a member of the Invisible Collar.”

A chill cut through Gabrielle’s butterflies. The thought was too horrible to consider. After all the testing, the hard work and the practice, to be rejected now was the worse thought imaginable. It would mean returning only reading about submission online. It would mean being dominated only in her fantasies during classes. It would mean going back to kinky dating sites and dealing with disappointment after disappointment. She couldn’t go back to that.

“I’ll make you proud,” Gabrielle said.

Dominic nodded. “Make yourself proud,” he said. “Now, go.”

Gabrielle left the car and walked the steps to the house. Loud music could be heard already. She tried to remember whose house it was but failed. It was close to the university but she didn’t think it belonged to one of the Greek houses. Maybe it belonged to one of the faculty?

It didn’t matter who it belonged to. Gabrielle was here to serve.

She knocked on the door and a zombie answered the door. He took her invitation and groaned. He sounded like a dead man but his eyes were alive as he stared at her tits.

Gabrielle stepped into the house.  Fake cobwebs and plastic bats hung everywhere. Loud music sang about a graveyard smash. People in costumes were packed inside the house, clumped together in close personal crowds.

Now came the hard part for Gabrielle had to wait. She made her way to the living room where a punch bowl had been set up. The punch was green and cloudy but it tasted like apples and rum. Glass in hand, she stepped away from the table and tried to find a place to stand that was out of the way.

A vampire cut her off. He was a white boy the same age as her. Fangs grinned from tight lips. He was wearing a tuxedo complete with a cape. Painted eyebrows arched above his eyes.

“Hello,” he said. “I feel a prickling in my thumbs.”

Gabrielle felt her stomach clench. She hadn’t expected to be contacted so soon. All she had to do was give the coded response. For a brief moment, she wondered if she could go through with it.

She could. “Then please, let something wicked help you come.”

The vampire grinned. He took her by the wrist. Gabrielle followed on shaking knees as he pulled her through the crowd. Faux monsters and topical costumes parted for them. She set her cup down on a table as they passed it by. He didn’t slow down for her.

The vampire pulled her to a closed door. “Keep Out” was written on a sign. He pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the door. He pulled her into the darkness inside and closed the door.

A light came on. It was a closet. Coats hung along side different lengths of chain. The vampire locked the door behind them.

“How may I serve?” Gabrielle said.

A slap to her face was her answer. The force of the blow made her head snap around. Her cheek stung and her eyes watered.

“Shut up,” the vampire said. His face was a mask of stern ice. The painted eyebrows ceased to look silly and were now threatening.

He grabbed her by the shoulder and pushed her down. Gabrielle sunk to her knees. The vampire unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock. Someone’s lipstick was smeared on the tip.

No matter. Gabrielle opened her mouth and leaned forward. The vampire grabbed the back of her head and pulled her onto his cock.

Gabrielle took him into her mouth and down her throat. The butterflies were gone. This she could do. She had practiced so many times on dildoes, vibrators and Dominic. She put her mouth to work to please this cock.

The vampire groaned. The fingers dug into her shoulders. He pushed into her mouth, fucking her with slow steady thrusts.

Gabrielle moaned. She didn’t know the vampire’s name and she didn’t care. This was submission: to be reduced down to a willing mouth in a closet during a busy party. She wasn’t a college girl with student debt, a shitty ex-boyfriend, a psycho mother and a butt load of insecurities. Right now she was just a cocksucker and that was okay with her.

She fondled his balls while she sucked. Her tongue did that thing that drove Dominic wild. She moaned some more because it made her lips vibrate. She took a little more of his cock until she gagged but she kept sucking.

She tasted the lipstick that someone else had left on the cock and she wondered about the previous girl. Was she a candidate for the Invisible Collar like Gabrielle? Or was she just the vampire’s girlfriend, unaware that later that night that Gabrielle would be sucking her boyfriend’s dick? Gabrielle’s pussy was drowning in desire at the thought.

“Fuck,” the vampire groaned. He pulled out of her mouth and grabbed his cock. His hand was a fast blur in front of her face.

She knew what was coming but she kept her place. The Invisible Collar demanded much from the ones it used.

The vampire came. A splash of seed struck her face and then second splash and then a third. She smiled, letting the vampire empty himself as he desired.

“Fuck,” he said again when he was done. He zipped himself up. Gabrielle looked up at him; his come drying on her face. The ice was gone from his expression. A slack relaxation permeated his entire body. He was just another guy who just got laid.

Gabrielle however, was still ready to serve.

The vampire unlocked the door and stumbled out. Gabrielle rose to her feet and pulled out a wet wipe from her pockets. A few wipes and her face was clean again. She needed to be presentable.

Gabrielle went back to the party, locking the door behind her. The music blasted lyrics about a double feature of science fiction. There were even more people here now. She pushed her way through a thick crowd of costumes and flesh.

She returned back to the punch bowl. Another glass of apple and rum went down her throat.

The shock of what had just happened passed through her. She had just sucked off a stranger in a closet. How did she feel about that? She was horny yes, but shouldn’t she feel a little ashamed?

Gabrielle didn’t. She wondered if that meant that something was wrong with her.

“Hey there,” a guy said. He was dressed like a pizza delivery man or maybe he really was a pizza delivery man. No matter, he was cute, tall and brown and Gabrielle really hoped that the guy knew the code phrase.

“I haven’t seen you here before,” the delivery man said. “My name is Peter.”

“Hey, my name is Gabrielle,” she said. She paused to let him say the words and then she would do wonderful dirty things to his handsome body.

“I had no idea so many people would be here!” he yelled.

“It’s crazy!” Gabrielle yelled back. Say the words, she prayed.

“Excuse me,” a man said behind her. It was a guy wearing a uniform from some science fiction show. He was short, chubby and pale; nothing like the sexy delivery man she was talking to.

“I feel a prickling in my thumbs,” Sci-Fi guy said.

“Sounds like a circulation problem,” Delivery Guy said. He smiled at his own joke.

Sci-Fi Guy ignored him and looked at Gabrielle. She knew what she had to say but she didn’t want to say it in front of Delivery Guy. She looked to Sci-Fi Guy for understanding or mercy. His expression said it all. He had no mercy for her.

Her cheeks flushed with heat as she recited the words. “Please, let something wicked help you come.”

A flicker of relief crossed Sci-fi- Guy’s eyes. “Come with me,” he said and he turned to walk through the crowd.

“Bye!” Gabrielle said to a very disbelieving Delivery Guy.

“Are you shitting me?” he yelled as she walked away.

Embarrassment burned within Gabrielle. Delivery Guy thought she was ditching him for Sci-Fi guy. He had no idea that she was compelled. There was no way to explain except to say that tonight she had given herself to an entire society.

Sci-Fi Guy walked fast through the crowd and Gabrielle struggled to keep him in sight. The music was blasting and the crowd was slightly drunk. Gabrielle had two drinks in her but she was stone cold sober as she followed Sci-fi Guy.

He went into the kitchen and Gabrielle followed. Two guys and a girl were in there, eating and joking about having a threeway.  Sci-Fi Guy walked passed them and to a door. He took out a key and unlocked the door. The three people stared at Gabrielle as she waited. Not knowing what to do, she waved at them.

They waved back.

The door opened and it was the pantry. Sci-Fi Guy stepped in and Gabrielle followed. Both guys started to laugh.

“You go, girl!” the woman yelled.

Gabrielle ducked into the pantry. It was cramped and tight. She looked down at Sci-Fi Guy and felt the butterflies return. What did he want?

“How may I serve you?” she asked in a whisper.

“Kiss me,” he said.

Gabrielle hesitated. That wasn’t what she expected. A flicker of annoyance appeared in Sci-Fi Guy’s eyes.

She grabbed his face and kissed him. His mouth opened in surprise but it wasn’t long before he kissed her back. It also wasn’t long before he was grabbing her tit. He squeezed her round brown breast a little too hard but that was okay. Gabrielle could take it and more.

They kissed and it was pretty good. He kissed her hard and he kissed her like he needed it more than anything in the world. He sure as hell kissed her with more passion than her ex-boyfriend did and Gabrielle appreciated that. She felt wanted. She felt needed.

She felt like this is what service should be like.

They kept kissing. He pulled her breast out of her top and pinched her nipple. Gabrielle moaned. Pain was something she had never experienced while kissing. She liked it.

Sci-Fi Guy broke the kiss. He looked up at her with something new in his eyes. It was lust.

“Pull your skirt down and bend over,” he said.

“Yes,” she whispered. This was what she expected. What surprised her was how ready she was for it.

Gabrielle pulled down her skirt. She had no underwear, just a little tuft of black hair for decoration. Sci-Fi Guy pulled down his pants and took out a condom. She watched as he rolled it onto his cock.

“Bend over,” he repeated.

“Yes, sorry!” Gabrielle said. She was so excited that she had forgotten herself. Her heart was pounding.

She turned around and tried to bend over. The pantry was too small. She moved some boxes out of the way and leaned onto a shelf.

Something heavy was pushed on the ground. She heard Sci-Fi Guy step up onto something. His hands gripped her waist and she felt the tip of his cock press against her sex.

Gabrielle was so fucking wet. Sci-Fi Guy pushed into her and she felt like she might climax with the first thrust. He wasn’t especially big or particularly thick but he was dominating her and that made her pussy tight as hell.

Sci-Fi Guy growled and his fingers sunk into her hips. He rammed into her and Gabrielle cried out. He fucked her fast and hard with the same level of passion that he had put into the kiss.

Gabrielle shook and knocked over a box of something heavy. It slammed into the floor and she knew that everyone in the kitchen heard it. She didn’t care. She was a slampiece for a total stranger. All she cared about was the wonderful cock deep inside her.

This was fucking. There were no sweet words or meaningless flattery. She was a place to cram in a cock and she couldn’t be happier. This is why she endured all the tests and this why she suffered through all the little punishments. This is what she wanted to be for the rest of her life.

She climaxed and Sci-Fi Guy kept fucking her.

She climaxed again and this time she screamed. Sci-Fi Guy kept fucking her.

She reached between her legs and stroked her clitoris to another climax. Sci-Fi Guy fucked her faster.

Sci-Fi Guy finally came. He froze in mid thrust and Gabrielle clenched hard around him. She kept clenching as he pulled out.

It was over too soon. Gabrielle’s back was sore from bending over but she didn’t want it to end just yet. She wanted more. She had so much more service to give.

“Mission accomplished,” Sci-Fi Guy said.

Gabrielle giggled. It was probably a reference to something she didn’t know but she was high on her orgasms.  She slowly stood up and turned to face him. Maybe she could offer some more service.

Sadly, Sci-Fi Guy already had his pants zipped up. He gave her a weird salute and walked out the pantry door. Gabrielle could hear the people in the kitchen give out a cheer.

Gabrielle stroked herself a few times before stopping. She should save all that energy for the next person. For a moment she wondered if there would be a next person. There had to be, right?

She pulled her skirt back up and checked her tits. One of her breasts had to be stuffed back into the bikini tip. Her nipples were hard and visible through the flimsy material.  Normally she would be shy of them but tonight her shyness was slowly melting.

Gabrielle stepped out of the pantry. Instead of the original three people there was a crowd of ten guys. Shame burned on her cheeks as they let out a cheer.

“Hey, baby! Need some company in there?” one of them yelled.

Gabrielle smiled weakly and rushed back into the main party.

The music blasted a song about werewolves overseas. Gabrielle started to dance even though it wasn’t a dancing song. A cute guy dressed as a police man joined her. She smiled and did moves that she had only done in private in front of the mirror.

The music changed to talk about people who weren’t afraid of ghosts. More people danced and Gabrielle changed partners frequently. She flirted and winked. Her body made promises but if since no one said the right phrase, she just kept dancing.

Gabrielle felt free. She was the plaything of anyone who knew the special words but she felt freer than she had at any other time in her life. This is what she wanted to do and for one night she was proving it.

Eventually the endorphins wore off and she could dance no more. She made her way to a wall to lean on. She thought about getting another drink when she saw someone different.

It was an older woman, dressed in a white toga like a Greek Goddess. The woman’s dark brown skin contrasted with the white cloth of her toga. A gold mask covered the top half of her face but there was something about the woman’s lips that tugged at Gabrielle’s memory. She felt that she should know this lady.

“You’re a great dancer,” the Goddess said. “Are you part of the dance program?”

Gabrielle’s heart skipped a beat. She knew that voice! It was Professor Webb for her Literature class! Holy shit! Gabrielle hoped the professor hadn’t seen her come out of the pantry!

“No, I could never do that,” Gabrielle said, trying to appear calm while her heart raced. “I just like to dance on a good night.”

“I see,” the Goddess said. “And what if I told you that I have a prickling in my thumbs?”

Gabrielle felt her pussy clench. Was this really happening?

There was a purse to the Goddess’s lips that she recognized. Professor Webb expected an answer and it had better be quick.

“Please, professor, let something wicked help you come,” Gabrielle said.

The Goddess smirked. “Follow me, Gabrielle.”

Gabrielle followed the Goddess through the crowd. They went through the party and up the stairs. The music was not as loud up here but it couldn’t stop the sounds of sexing coming from the rooms.

So many thoughts went through Gabrielle’s mind. Was she ready to be with a woman? It was something she had always thought about but she had never acted on? Could she go down on a woman? Could she enjoy a woman going down on her? Gabrielle thought she would but you never really know until you try.

The Goddess led Gabrielle to another locked room. Gabrielle waited as the Goddess took out a key and unlocked the door. She wondered if each person had their own room to play in or if the key worked on any of the locked doors? Could they be interrupted?

The door opened to a stark room. The walls were bare and the only light was in the ceiling. In the center of the room was a bench designed for someone to bend over. Hanging on the bench was a large black paddle.

“Close the door,” the Goddess said. She went straight to the paddle and picked it up.

With shaking hands, Gabrielle closed the door. Sapphic fantasies were dying by the second. This was not a room for sex.

“Drop the skirt and bend over the bench,” the Goddess said.

Gabrielle nodded. The skirt dropped easily and she walked slowly to the bench. Hesitation returned and she paused.

The Goddess pushed her over the bench. Gabrielle squealed but she stayed in position. Her brown ass was high in the air. She spread her legs and braced herself.

“Stand before I tell you, and you will never join the Invisible Collar,” the Goddess said.

“Yes, ma’am,” Gabrielle said. She saw hand grips at the bottom of the bench and reached for them. She just needed to hold on tight.

Whap. The paddle smacked into her ass. Gabrielle squealed but then realized that it didn’t hurt that much. Maybe all those beatings from Dominic had made her tough.

Whap. Whap. Whap. Whap. The Goddess walked around Gabrielle’s exposed ass and struck her lightly with the paddle. Gabrielle was pleasantly surprised at how light the hits were. A heat was growing in her pussy. Maybe is was just a prelude to sex.

WHACK! The paddle came down hard without warning. Gabrielle screamed as her ass exploded in heat. Her pussy burned with a different kind of heat.

WHACK! WHACK! The Goddess struck both of her cheeks with equal fury. Gabrielle screamed again and wondered if anyone would come to check. She heard another scream from next door and realized there was too much sex for anyone to investigate.

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! The paddle smacked her ass with brutal strikes. The Goddess was surprisingly strong for a literature professor.

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! Gabrielle clenched her eyes as the strikes came harder and harder. Her ass was burning but she had to hold on. She wanted nothing more than to cover her ass with her hands but she resisted. She was going to prove herself no matter what.

The next swing didn’t come. Gabrielle trembled as she waited. Dominic played these waiting games too. Just when she would start to relax, the paddling would continue.

Instead, Gabrielle felt fingers at her pussy. Gentle loving fingers rubbed at her pussy lips. She trembled and moaned at the sensation. Her ass burned but her pussy burned hotter.

The Goddess pulled her fingers away. Gabrielle moaned a soft pout.

WHACK! Gabrielle screamed. She should have seen it coming. Pleasure leads to relaxation which leads to pain. She should have known.

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK WHACK! Gabrielle screamed as her poor ass was smacked without mercy.

The paddling stopped. The fingers returned. Gabrielle swore that she wouldn’t be fooled this time. She would stay on her guard.

The Goddess’s fingers went inside her. Gabrielle shuddered. Her pussy clenched on the gentle fingers inside her. She was in a sea of bliss.

The fingers went away. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! The spanking resumed.

Gabrielle screamed. Her ass was so sensitive that every strike was worse than the last. She was also so close to coming. She would have thought the paddling would have made her less aroused but it was the opposite. She wondered if she could come by being paddled.

The paddling stopped. Gabrielle lifted her hips for the probing fingers. Seconds passed. She wondered if the paddling was going to return. She wondered if she should beg for the fingers. Indecision paralyzed her.

The Goddess walked around the front of the bench. Wet fingers went to Gabrielle’s mouth. The fingers forced themselves into her mouth. She opened her lips and tasted herself.

Gabrielle looked up at the Goddess. She sucked hard on the fingers in her mouth. The taste of her pussy was strong. Her eyes pleaded for sex.

The Goddess looked down at her and pulled out her fingers. They were now slick from Gabrielle’s mouth. She lifted up her toga to reveal a shaved pussy.

Gabrielle moaned.

The Goddess laughed and put her fingers inside herself. Her hand was a blur as she stroked her divine sex.

“Please,” Gabrielle begged. She wasn’t sure if she was begging for sexual relief or the chance to lick the sex in front of her.

The Goddess ignored her and stroked faster. The tall dark woman stared down at Gabrielle as she pleasured herself. Gabrielle was just a tool for her masturbation and nothing more.

Gabrielle had never been wetter. She caught herself humping the spanking bench.

“Fuck, yes!” the Goddess screamed.

Gabrielle watched as the Goddess hung the paddle back on the bench. She used Gabrielle’s skirt to clean her fingers before tossing the skirt onto Gabrielle.

“Get up, I am through with you,” she said.

“Yes, ma’am,” Gabrielle said.

The Goddess left Gabrielle alone. She stood up and winced as her ass complained. Putting on her skirt was even harder as it clung to the welts that were rising on her ass. She stood alone in the spanking room and rode the pain out.

When she thought she could walk again without crying, Gabrielle left the room. On unsteady legs she made her way down the stairs. The stereo was blaring a song about people who were strange. The crowd was thinner than before and Gabrielle was grateful. It meant less people to push through for more punch.

A cup of alcohol steadied Gabrielle’s knees. Her ass hurt too much to sit down but that was okay. She just needed a moment to think. She needed a minute to breathe.

She looked at the clock. It was 11:10. Just fifty more minutes to go. She could do this. She could suck all the cock, get paddled and fingered and fuck anyone who wanted it. She was going to make it.

When she got another drink she noticed there were far less people than before. Only thirty of forty people were left. She didn’t expect the party to start dying out already. Maybe this was going to be easier than she thought.

The music stopped. Everyone came into the living room. She saw the Vampire, the Sci-Fi Guy and the Goddess plus many more. They were all looking at her.

“I feel a prickling in my thumbs,” they chanted together.

Gabrielle dropped her cup. The punch spilled and no one cared.

“Please, let something wicked help you come,” she said.

The crowd moved towards her and her real test began.

“Ah, what a happy ending that was. Wouldn’t you agree Burny?”

“I might have preferred to see the group dominate Gabrielle but I understand that nothing written could match the imagination of the reader.”

“Really, Burny, nobody likes it when someone deconstructs the literary choices of the writer. That is unless you are praising them, then you can babble as much as you want.”

“Truly you are a demon of ancient wisdom, Suckubeth.”

“Damn right. Don’t worry mortals. Tomorrow night I will appear to you personally and whisper why happens to Gabrielle while you sign your soul away to me with your tongue on my infernal pussy.”

“I’ll catch your souls later.”

*Photographic evidence of Suckubeth provided by parapsychologist Joe Gravel*

Oct 232013

suckubeth2clr“Greetings mortals! It is me, Suckubeth, the pumpkin tit queen of your sexiest Halloween! With me as always is my Flaming-Skull-on-a-Stick companion, Burny.”

“Avert your eyes from her tits! If you stare too long, you’ll be turned into pumpkins and feel every knife cut as she turns you into jack-o-lanterns!”

“Oh Burny, you are such a vanilla damned soul. People like a little transformation and knife play.”

“Why are you still looking, mortals? Have you no sense of self preservation?”

“Self preservation is severely overrated. Just ask the characters in today’s story, Giggles the Murder Clown.”

“Whoa! Not that story! It has violence! It has severed body parts! It has clowns! Sensitive readers who dislike explicit violence in their porn should not read it! This means you, Mystique!”

“They shouldn’t but they will, Burny. Mortals can’t resist a forbidden story anymore than they can resist a forbidden tit.”

“Read on, mortals.”

Giggles the Murder Clown gripped his machete. There were people in his amusement park. He could feel it deep down in his damned bones. The park was closed for the winter and yet people kept breaking in. How many corpses crammed into cotton candy machines was it going to take before people got the message? How many severed heads stuck on seltzer bottles did Giggles have to make? Did people enjoy collecting the deceased out of the mirror maze?

Giggles laughed. He was starting to think they did.

It was a warm October night. Not as hot as the fires of Hell that Giggles climbed out of in order to murder and joke back in the real world, but still, warm for October. It was a good night for ice cream topped with blood.

He went looking for the trespassers. There was a tingle in his arm as he got closer. It was the same arm that the townies broke in his old life. He liked to think it was his funny bone.

There, over by the ring toss, a man was sitting on a bench. Something sat on the guy’s head. A hundred jokes played through Giggles’ mind. Should he strangle the guy with a ring from the ring toss? What about cramming a bag of popcorn down his throat? The first kill of the night should be a good one.

Wait, the man wasn’t moving. Giggles came closer; his giant shoes flop, flop, flopping as the Murder Clown walked. The man didn’t even turn his head.

Giggles grabbed the thing on the man’s head. It was a pink bra. The man didn’t move. Giggles pulled the guy’s head back. Dead open eyes stared at him.

This wasn’t funny. The guy was already dead. Giggles stepped around and got a better look at the man. He looked like a college kid with his frat house shirt and expensive watch. The kid’s shorts were pulled down around his ankles. Blood soaked the kid’s legs. Sitting on his crotch was a jack-in-the-box.

Giggles reached down and turned the crank. Music played and the Murder Clown turned the crank faster.

The box popped. Instead of a Jack, it was the tip of a severed penis on a spring.

Giggles didn’t laugh. Was there another Murder Clown here? Was the Murder Circus in town? Didn’t they see the severed lips he had left around the park? This was his playground!

He bent close to the corpse. He didn’t smell sour cream pie. There were no rotten popcorn kernels on the ground. Oddest of all, there wasn’t the mysterious chord of an organ grinder playing in the background.

This wasn’t the kill of a Murder Clown. This was a joke kill from a human. Did they do that?

He picked up the bra. It must have belonged to the killer. He wrapped it around his head. His frizzy red hair got in the way but he tucked it into the cups of the bra.

There was a tingle in his funny bone. Someone was at the merry-go-round.

Giggles walked. Flop, flop, flop went his shoes. He threw the machete into the air and pulled a hammer and an ax from his pockets and started to juggle. He wondered what kind of joke that the killer would do next. It had better be funny. If it wasn’t, he was going to wear her tits.

Ha, he was going to wear her tits even if it was funny.

The merry-go-round came to life. Music filled the quiet night. Bright lights danced before him. The parade of horses, elephants, lions and zebras turned and twisted.

Giggles waited for the joke. An arm spun by, trapped inside a lion’s open mouth. Next was an arm on the head of a hippo. That was followed by a leg, another leg and finally a man’s head on the tip of an elephant’s trunk. A woman’s panties were stretched over the man’s face.

That was funny. He really liked the shocked look on the guy’s face. The panties were a nice touch.

Maybe he would only wear one of her tits.

There was another tingle in his funny bone. Someone was at the Hall of Mirrors.

Giggles turned around and let his juggling weapons to the ground behind him. He flopped, flopped, flopped over to the Hall or Mirrors. He had a weird feeling that he didn’t like. People were dying which was funny but he wasn’t doing the killing which was not funny. Why was the killer doing this? She hated trespassers too? She liked chopping people up? She liked jokes?

Giggles the Murder-Clown felt nervous. This was something he didn’t understand and that made him nervous. He hadn’t been nervous when the townfolk broke his arm all those years ago and he hadn’t been nervous when he killed all of them except for that last lucky girl with the shotgun. Going to Hell had been painful but he hadn’t been nervous. Getting out of Hell had been hard, grueling and funny but he hadn’t been nervous. This was a feeling he didn’t like much.

He stepped into the Hall of Mirrors. Reflections of a bound man stared at him. The bound man started to scream. Giggles laughed. The man had a funny scream.

There was a woman here. She was naked except for a frizzy green wig. She wore greasepaint on her face. A wicked clown’s grin leered at Giggles.

Giggles felt a tingle in his boner. He laughed. His funny boner.

The clown woman danced around the bound man. She had a knife in her hand. She danced and sliced the man’s clothes off. The man screamed louder.

Giggles entered the maze. His own reflection bounced back at him. A pale white face topped with a pink bra smiled back at him. A bright red nose pulsed with life. Powerful muscles rippled on his bare chest. Saggy pants bulged with a dozen weapons. Giant shoes flopped with every step.

The man’s screams grew louder. Sprays of red were clouding the mirrors. The girl had worked through the clothes and was now hacking through the skin.

Giggles flopped faster. He reached into his pockets. This girl deserved a special joke. He pulled out a rubber chicken.

The maze was no challenge for the Murder Clown. He made it to the center right as the clown woman sliced through the man’s jugular. The blood caught her in the breasts.

Giggles laughed. The clown woman saw him and smiled.

“You’re here!” she said. She stabbed the knife into the dying man’s leg. “I knew you would show up! I did all of this for you. Did you like it?”

Giggles thought about it. He squeezed his nose. It honked.

“I knew you would like it! I have followed your work for years! People keep coming here and you keep killing them! How can people be so stupid? It is like they want to get killed!”

Giggles honked his nose in agreement.

“Even these idiots were easy to get here! I just told them I would fuck them if they could find me in the amusement park and these idiots came right in. I killed them one by one, just like you would!”

Giggles slapped the rubber chicken in his hand.

The clown girl got on her knees. “Please, I’m not like other girls. I want to be a clown like you. I want you to teach me all your jokes. I want to be your partner.”

Giggles was genuinely perplexed. This girl was fucked up.

“Please,” she begged. “Killing has been such a turn on. I want to show you how loyal I can be. I promise, I will make you feel so good.”

The clown girl reached for his pants. He watched as she unzipped him. Rotten popcorn kernels, tuffs of cotton candy and a horn fell out. She reached into his pants and found his funny boner. She pulled it free.

His cock was pale white with red polka dots. The clown girl stared at it.

Giggles laughed. He grabbed both ends of the rubber chicken and looped it behind her neck. He pulled her onto his funny boner. She opened her mouth just in time.

Whoa, he had forgotten what it was like to be inside a woman’s mouth. This was nice. It was almost as fun as killing. She took all of his cock into her mouth. Her throat was as bottomless as a clown car.

The clown girl looked up at him. Crazy love was in her eyes. Her greasepaint cheeks caved in around his cock.

Giggles’ nose honked in pleasure.

He dropped the rubber chicken and reached into his pocket. The Murder Clown pulled out some chattering teeth. He dropped it onto the clown girl’s bouncing breasts. The teeth clamped onto her nipple.

The clown girl screamed but he grabbed her head. The green wig came off in his hands and he tossed it aside. She had short black hair underneath the wig. He was disappointed that she didn’t go all the way and dye her real hair. Or better yet, shaved it. That would have been funny.

Giggles pinned the clown girl’s back head onto his cock. The clattering teeth continued to chomp on her breast. Tears ran down her cheeks, leaving streaks in the greasepaint.

The mirrors reflected a hundred clown girls sucking a hundred Giggles. A hundred chattering teeth bit on a hundred nipples. A hundred dead corpses watched from their chairs.

Giggles’ nose honked. It honked again and again as the clown girl sucked harder.

He pulled his cock out of her mouth. The clown girl grabbed his cock and jerked it. She opened her mouth.

“Yes, come on my face!” she cried.

Giggles laughed. His cock spurted. A long heavy stream of demonic seed sprayed on her face.

The clown girl screamed. Smoke rose from her face as his hellish come burned her. She let go of his cock and spun away. She grabbed her face and screamed even louder.

Giggles watched. He grabbed the clown girl by the hair and pulled her to her feet. His chattering teeth fell of her tit and landed back in his pocket.

The clown girl looked up at him. The greasepaint had been smeared off by her hands. New streaks of white scarred flesh peeked out from underneath. Blood framed her mouth instead of paint. The insane adoration was gone from her eyes and replaced with just plain insanity.

“Am I your sidekick now?” the clown girl asked.

Giggles shrugged. She wasn’t there yet but he would make a Murder Clown out of her yet, one funny boner cream blast at a time.

“Another happy ending! I must be getting soft in my years of damnation!”

“A happy ending? Three people died! A woman was scarred and driven insane! A Murder Clown laughed! This was horrible!”

“Any story that has a facial, even a facial of demon hell semen, is a happy ending, Burny.”

“I am too terrified to even imagine what next week’s story will be!”

“You should be, Burny. You should be.”

“I will see you next week, readers. I’ll catch your souls later.”

Oct 162013

suckubeth2clr“Greetings mortals! It is me, Suckubeth, the abomination with tits a raging. With me as always is my Flaming-Skull-on-a-Stick companion, Burny.”

“Oh no! Suckubeth is in color now! The October moon has opened the way for her to invade your world! Run mortals!”

“Yes, run right into my open thighs. Today’s story is a terrifying tale made all the more horrible by the fact that it is a true story. It is called The Exorcism of Jennifer Callahan.”

“You can’t tell them that one! It is based on true events which means it could happen to the readers! And when a horror story says that it is based on true events, they never ever lie!”

“That’s right, Burny. There were witnesses and documents signed by notaries. It is absolutely true.”

“Read on, mortals.”


Ezekiel knocked on the door and noticed that wood was cold; much colder than you would expect even for a night in October. It was a frosty cold. It was the kind of cold that shrivels your nuts. He knew he was at the right house.

The door opened and a frightened man looked out. The worry lines in his face softened when he saw Ezekiel. He held the door open and shook Ezekiel’s hand.

“Oh thank you, Father,” he said. “I am so glad the church took me seriously.”

“I am not a Father or a member of the Catholic church,” Ezekiel said. “My name is Reverend Ezekiel Bone and I was told by Father O’Malley that you had a problem I could help with.”

The man nodded his head. “Yes, Reverend,” he said. “My name is Michael Callahan and my wife, Jennifer, has been acting strange the past two weeks.”

“Hmm,” Ezekiel said. He looked around the living room that he was in. A group of adult magazines on the coffee table had defaced covers where someone had inked out all trace of skin on the women. A broken paddle hung from the wall. A chair with leather restraints looked like it had been set on fire.

“I take it that I am standing in the house of people who practice BONDAGE, read PORNOGRAPHY and like to spank NAKED FLESH?” Ezekiel boomed.

“Oh, yes, Reverend,” Michael said. “Normally I would clean up but I have been so busy. Is that a problem?”

“Hell no, Brother!” Reverend Ezekiel said. “The Good Lord gave us bodies and I am glad to be in the house that celebrates God’s divine plan! Give me an AMEN!”

“Amen!” Michael said, visibly relieved.

Ezekiel put his hand on Michael’s shoulder. “Tell me Brother, has your wife suddenly had no appetite for earthly pleasures?”

“Yes, Reverend!” Michael said. “She wouldn’t even go to the swinger’s party last night and she helped organize it!”

“Tell me, Brother, has your wife started speaking in unusual tongues?”

“Yes, Reverend!” Michael said. “Every time I try to jack off, she starts babbling in these creepy voices about venereal diseases!”

Ezekiel shook his head. “Finally Brother, has your wife’s pussy gone cold?”

“Hell yeah!” Michael said. “It is like sticking your willy into a freezer!”

Ezekiel shut his eyes. “Oh LORD! Give me the strength to help this poor accursed woman! Help your humble servant as he does battle with the DEMON that has possessed this good Christian woman! AMEN!”

“Did you say demon?” Michael said.

“Yes, Brother but take heart,” Ezekiel said. “This isn’t my first exorcism. It is time you took me to your wife.”

Michael nodded and led Ezekiel upstairs. They passed by photos of the couple in happier times. Pictures of their wedding, pictures of their first wife swap and pictures of their fetish costumes attested to the love this couple had.

Ezekiel stepped into the bedroom where the wife laid. She was a beautiful woman with black hair that was pulled into a sexless bun. She was clothed head to toe in an ugly white nightgown. Her legs were crossed at the ankles.

“Who’s the shitwit with the limp dick?” Jennifer asked.

Ezekiel drew in his breath. The air was chilly and cold. He lifted his cross and held it before him.

“Out DEMON! Out of this good woman’s PUSSY and back to the frozen pits of HELL!”

Jennifer laughed. Her voice was unnaturally deep. “Fuck you, Reverend! This bitch’s soul is mine and she will never get laid again!”

“Wrong, Shit-stain of SATAN!” Ezekiel said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a vial of water.

“Is that holy water?” Michael asked.

“Better,” Ezekiel said. “It’s juice from a nun’s pussy.”

He opened the vial and flung the water at Jennifer. She howled as the water soaked her night gown. Smoke rose from the gown and burned off her body, leaving her flesh unharmed.

Ezekiel gasped at the beautiful body that was revealed. Lovely firm breasts, perky nipples, wide hips and a hint of pubic hair were revealed. Sadly, her legs were still closed.

“Leave now Reverend!” Jennifer howled. “Leave now before I make your dick fall off and your balls turn blue!”

Ezekiel took a step forward. He took out his Bible, the special one that includes the Purple Book of Mary and the Orgy of Solomon. He read straight from his holy book even though he knew the words by heart.

“Yea though I fuck the meanest of bitches, I shall fear no dry cunt,” he said.

Jennifer screamed and Michael’s underwear caught fire. He tore off his pants and beat the flames out. Ezekiel kept reading.

“For the Lord gives me my cock and he has taught me the motion of the ocean,” he read.

Jennifer screamed again and the room grew even colder. Ezekiel felt his balls shrinking into his body but he kept reading.

“The Lord guides my hips and he tells me the words that all women like to hear.”

Jennifer screeched again but now there was fear in her scream. Her ankles uncrossed and her legs slowly parted. She kept screaming as her legs opened into an impressive split.

“Fuck you, Reverend!” Jennifer howled. She waved her hand the Bible flew from Ezekiel’s hands. She waved her hand again and a phantom foot kicked him in the nuts.

Ezekiel grunted but he took another step forward. He also loosened his belt and his pants feel to the ground. He was wearing no underwear since it was a Sunday. His cock was hard and rigid with the Lord’s glory.

He approached Jennifer’s possessed body. He grabbed her by her spread thighs and guided his cock to her demonic pussy.

It was like thrusting inside a cube of ice. Ezekiel winced but he kept pushing until he was inside the poor woman.

“Try to keep an erection in that!” the thing in Jennifer screamed.

“I command you, frigid spirit, whoever you are, along with all your minions now attacking this servant of GOD, by the mysteries of the First Fuck, the Last Orgy, the Prophet Gangbang and the Final climax of our LORD JESUS CHRIST, by the COCK of the Holy Spirit, by the coming of our Lord for judgment, that you tell me by some sign your name, and the day and hour of your departure!”

Jennifer’s pussy began to thaw. The ice turned to warm juices and Ezekiel moaned. Heat returned to the sacred place between her thighs.

“Noooo!” a voice cried out within Jennifer. “My name is Ver the Castrator! And I will never leave this body!”

Ezekiel began to thrust. “Hear me, Jennifer! The LORD is all powerful but you need to help yourself! Fight, Jennifer! Fight against this beast!”

Jennifer shook as Ezekiel fucked her. Slowly, so very slowly, her hands lifted and cupped her breasts. She pinched her nipples.

“Hallelujah!” Ezekiel cried. “Michael, your wife is strong but she needs your help! Get over here and put your cock in her!”

Michael rushed to his wife. He thought about it for a split second before getting near her face. He guided his cock to her mouth and she opened for him. He slid inside her mouth and thanked the Lord because it had been a full month since his last blowjob.

Ezekiel kept fucking Jennifer’s pussy. Michael fucked his wife’s mouth. The demon inside Jennifer kept screaming but mostly it was gagged by Michael’s cock.

Ezekiel looked down at the possessed pussy he was fucking and recited more words.

“Depart, then, transgressor! DEPART, spirit of prudishness, full of insults and nut kicks, foe of pleasure, persecutor of the debauched! Give place, abominable creature, give way, you monster, give way to CHRIST, in whom you found none of your works. For he has already opened your THIGHS and warmed your PUSSY, fingered your ASS and sucked your TONGUE. He has cast you forth into the outer darkness, where everlasting abstinence awaits you and your abettors!”

Ezekiel felt Jennifer’s pussy tighten down around his cock. He saw Jennifer’s lips cave in around Michael’s cock. He heard the desperate howl of the demon beast as it was driven out.

Michael cried out as he climaxed. Jennifer swallowed all of him and kissed his wilting cock.

Ezekiel kept fucking and Jennifer met him thrust for thrust. She thanked Jesus, Mary, God and all the vibrators as she came as well.

Ezekiel climaxed last and he gave out a loud, “HALLELUJAH!”


“I am so relieved it had a happy ending. Any ending that ends with a threesome is a happy ending.”

“I do worry about the psychological trauma of being possessed by a frigid spirit. Do you think there is a support group for them?”

“Of course, Burny. It is called a gangbang and I highly recommend it. In fact, if you haven’t been possessed by a demon of frigidity, I still recommend a gangbang. Preventive medicine is the best medicine.”

“I am a little skeptical of that advice. Are you a doctor?”

“No, but I have had many doctors inside me and three out of three doctors’ souls agree that I am always right.”

“That is all for now mortals, I’ll catch your souls later.”

*Depiction of Suckubeth provided by thrice cursed, Joe Gravel*

Oct 092013

suckubeth2“Greetings mortals! It is me, Suckubeth, the hellish spawn who keeps you up until dawn! With me as always is my Flaming-Skull-on-a-Stick companion, Burny.”

“Avert your eyes and stop reading! Go click on a web site about the government shutdown! Look away and save your soul!”

“You are such a killjoy, Burny! Why would they want to read about something boring when they can read something that will haunt their wet dreams for years to come?”

“If they look away now, they might not spend eternity transformed into a living butt-plug!”

“They should be so lucky! You know every soul starts as a ball gag. Speaking of gags, today’s story is a cautionary tale about gag gifts. It’s called “Her Blank Eyes, Her Open Mouth.”

“No! Not that story! I still have nightmares from the first time you told it to me!”

“You know what I say, when it come to nightmares and gangbangs, it is always good to share.”  

“Read on, Mortals,”

I knew things were bad as soon as John answered the door. He hadn’t shaved in awhile and he had some dirt on his glasses that he didn’t seem to notice. He didn’t say anything when he opened the door; he just stood aside and let me in.

The first thing I saw was the blow-up doll sitting on the couch. I laughed at first. It was a birthday gift that a friend had bought him as a joke. I couldn’t believe that John would have it out and about. Then I noticed that it was wearing a tattered black bra and a single red stocking on one leg. I stopped laughing.

“John, I can’t believe you dressed it up,” I said. “That is creepy as fuck.”

John grabbed my arm. “Don’t say that about Minnie! She’ll get angry again!”

O-kay. “John, have they changed your medication again? You feeling well, buddy?”

John ignored me and walked around the living room. I sat down on a chair to the side of the couch. I didn’t want that blow-up doll looking at me.

“Where did you get Minnie from?” John said.

“Hm? Oh, Rick got it. I think he said that his uncle gave it to him.”

“Fucker!” John yelled. He ran at me and towered over me as I sat in the chair. “Did he fuck Minnie? If you know, you have to tell me!”

“Dude! Chill!” I said. “I don’t know! I mean, who actually fucks these kinds of things? We got it for you as a joke because you haven’t dated in awhile.”

“I bet he had fucked it,” John said. “That is why he gave it to me. Oh God, I should have never fucked it!”

“Oh man, too much information!” I said.

He walked away from my chair and I glanced at the blow-up doll. He must have brushed it when it walked by because now it was on its side. The painted eyes stared back at me. The open mouth glistened and I did not want to know with what.

“I just wanted to see what it was like,” John said. “I was lonely and you know, it had been a while. I got some lube and climbed on top of her and gave it a try.”

The pause was a prompt for me to ask, but man, I didn’t want to. I tried ignoring the silence but when I looked at the doll’s empty eyes, I couldn’t take the silence any more.

“Uh, how was it?” I asked.

John stopped pacing and stared at me. “She was warm. She shouldn’t be but she was. It felt great.”

O-kay. “All right, man,” I said, standing up. “Let’s get you out of the house and into some fresh air. You can tell me about your meds and maybe we’ll go see if Laura isn’t working the hospital tonight and give her a call.”

John rushed at me and got in my face. “You got to feel her! Stick your fingers inside her and see for yourself!”

“No thank you,” I said.

“Fuck!” he screamed. It was a loud noise that cut through the night. I started to become a bit afraid. John had never been violent before but man, he looked like he was breaking new ground tonight.

“Dude, I’ll feel your love doll,” I said. God, I hoped he had cleaned it.

“You will?” John said. Damn, he looked so desperate that I felt bad for telling him no in the first place.

“Sure,” I said. I walked over to the love doll. I noticed that the stockings had runs in them. Where the hell did he get stockings for it?

I reached between the vinyl legs and felt around. I grimaced when my fingers touched something wet but hey, John was acting crazy and he needed a stable influence. I felt around for the slut and stuck my fingers in.

It was warm. It was wet. My face was frozen as I debated telling John the truth.

Then the love doll pussy clenched around my fingers.

“Holy shit!” I said. I yanked my fingers out.

John started to giggle. “See? She likes it. Minnie loves to be touched. It makes her feel special.”

“John, let’s just throw her away, buddy,” I said.

John started to cry. Awkward. This was worse than having my finger clenched by blow-up doll pussy.

“I did,” he said. He sobbed for a bit and then cleared his throat. “I threw her away in the dumpster and she was back the next night wearing that bra.”

“Oh fuck this,” I said and I went into John’s kitchen. Chinese delivery filled his counters. I grabbed a steak knife and came back into the living room.

“No!” John screamed. He ran at me and I was worried that I was going to accidentally stab him. He tried to jerk that knife out of my hand and shook it in front of my face.

“I did that too!” he said. “I stabbed her and stabbed her and all the air went out and I stabbed her some more and cut up her pieces and put her in a can and then I set fire to it and then I dumped the can into the river and she came back! Only this time she had on the stocking! Look at her hands!”

I looked at the blow-up doll’s hands. They were stained red.

“Is that?” I asked, unable to say it.

“It sure fucking looks like blood!” he said. “I woke up with Minnie’s mouth on my cock and blood on her hands! I haven’t had a hard-on since!”

I stared at the doll. She stared back at me. Wait, wasn’t she facing the other way when I went into the kitchen?

Something snapped inside me. I had a sudden moment of clarity. John was off his meds and was doing his best to drag me into whatever crazy he was in. I had to be the grownup.

“John, this is too much,” I said. “I need to think about it. How about I come by tomorrow and I’ll bring the guys. Maybe all of us can figure it out.”

John stared at the doll. “Her nipples are hard,” he said.

“She’s a blow-up doll, they’re always hard,” I said.

“I think she likes you,” John said.

“See you tomorrow, John,” I said.

I left. I didn’t go home because I was a little creeped out. I went to a bar. I flirted with real women who had eyes that looked back and had mouths that closed. I got a little buzzed, sobered up and then got buzzed again. A taxi took me home and my cell rang as I unlocked my door. It was Chuck.

“Chuck, you won’t believe the night I had,” I said.

“Not now, Greg,” he said. “I got some bad news. John killed himself.”

I opened the door to my apartment. The light in the bedroom was on. I didn’t remember leaving it on.

“What happened?” I asked as I made my way to the bedroom.

“John called Phil and called him a bastard,” Chuck said. “He stabbed himself while cursing Phil out. Phil called 911 and ran over there. John had bled out by the time he got there.

The bedroom door was closed. I never closed it.

“Was the blow-up doll there?” I asked.

“What?” Chuck said. “What the fuck kind of question is that? John is dead, asshole!”

I closed my eyes and opened the door. “Was the blow-up doll there?” I asked again.

“Sorry, Greg but Phil didn’t mention a goddamn blow-up doll when he found our dead friend! Jesus!”

I hung up and opened my eyes. The blow-up doll was on my bed. She was propped up in sitting position. The tattered black bra was there. The red stocking was there. A single black heel was on the other foot.

John was right. Minnie did like me.


“What a lovely romantic story! Seriously, Burny, why don’t mortals appreciate it when a mysterious inanimate sex toy loves them?”

“Because mortals prefer sexual partners that are flesh and blood and not vinyl and cursed energy?”

“These poor mortals have such a limited imagination. I guess that is why demons like me have to educate them.”

“You know, technically there wasn’t any sex in this story. I am not sure it qualifies as erotic horror.”

“It sounds to me like you need to spend another eon as a butt-plug again, Burny.”

“Now that you mention it, there was some fingering and I guess the adult nature of the story qualifies as erotica.”

“Too late, Burny. I am summoning lube as I speak.”

“As for you mortals, I’ll catch your souls later.”

*Suckubeth sketch provided by demonlogist Joe Gravel*


Oct 022013

shondemonclr“Greetings mortals! It is that time again where demons and sluts dress up like naughty schoolgirls and perform dirty rituals on vampires’ laps! It is me, Suckubeth, your wet dream that makes you scream. With me as always is my Flaming-Skull-on-a-Stick companion, Burny.”

“Flee mortals! If you don’t leave now, your soul will drown in the sweat of a million orgies!”

“Hush Burny, don’t give away the surprise ending to their short lives. Once again I have returned from the 69th Circle of Damnation to tempt your mortal soul with stories of lust and doom. Today’s story is a heart warming story of a banker who fucked the wrong gypsy woman.”

“By the Dark Lods of the Earth, you can’t tell them that story! It is too sexy and has social justice in it! The combination will melt their minds!”

“If they are lucky, Burny. If they are lucky.”

“Read on, mortals.”


Today he would escape.

Roger opened his eyes. The dreary gray walls of his prison surrounded him. He groaned as he sat up, the coarse sheets a far cry from the satin sheets back home. His body felt dirty but there were no showers here. There wasn’t even a sink to wash in. Shit, there wasn’t even a toilet that he could swallow his pride and rinse with.

It had been years since he had taken a shit. He missed it.

For the thousandth time, he thought about the mistakes that brought him here. He didn’t think about the people he evicted from homes; that was just part of his job as a banker. He didn’t think about the desperate women he had coerced into sex just to delay their inevitable eviction; that was just a perk of the job. He didn’t spend a moment thinking of the people he had ruined, the paperwork he had forged to get a foreclosure or the lies he had told to get his profit margin just right. That was just being good at the American Dream.

No, to Roger, the only mistake he ever made was fucking that hot lady with the weird tattoo of a jail door on her face. The bitch had approached him in a bar. He thought it was because he looked wealthy but now he knew she was targeting him. The slut had come to a hotel with him and given him the best blowjob of his life. The whore had whispered something in a weird language as he plowed her tight little cunt. He should have known. He never should have came in her.

The door to his cell was open. He stood up; his naked cock bouncing between his legs. There were no clothes and Roger lost all shame long ago. He gave his cock a stroke for good luck and headed out the door.

Today he would escape. No distractions. He had seen them all. Nothing would keep him today. Today he would escape and get his life back.

“Hey Roger,” a blonde said in the hallway. She looked like she did in the 70’s. Long blonde hair came down to her ass. Heavy breasts strained against a plaid shirt. Lips built for sucking smiled at him.

“Fuck off,” he snarled. His babysitter from when he was twelve frowned at him.

“Don’t you want me to suck your cock?” she asked.

His cock throbbed but he ignored it. “Been there, done that.” He snarled. He never fucked her when he was a kid but here in the prison, oh he had fucked that. He had fucked her face, her cunt, her ass and those pretty tits. He had fucked her a dozen ways but not today. Today he was going to escape.

He went down the prison hallway. Hundreds of empty cells were to either side of him. All of them were the same with open doors and shitty beds. He had his choice of beds to sleep in.

“Come here, Rodger,” a bitch called out to him from a cell. He didn’t even look.

“Oh, baby,” another woman moaned. A quick glance showed his first wife with her legs spread and her fingers busy. He paused to see her slip all of her fingers inside her.

“Fill me, Rodger,” his first wife said. It had been decades since she ever said that to him in real life.

“Fill yourself,” Rodger said. Today he would escape.

He kept walking. Double doors opened into a staircase. The staircase led to a catwalk. The catwalk led to a basement. It made no sense but he kept walking.

Roger passed an open window. He gasped at the world outside. It was a restaurant, seen from the point of view of Roger’s body in the real world. Food was arranged in front of him. Roger’s mouth watered as he saw a steak being cut and the bite being lifted to his mouth.

A whimper escaped his lips. He slammed his hand into the window. It wasn’t fair! That whore bitch slut thing that he had fucked was riding his body! It was eating!

He tore himself away from the window. It was too easy to watch. He wasn’t hungry but he missed the act of eating. Once he had spent an entire day just watching to see what meals were being eaten by his hijacked body. He didn’t escape that day.

Today he would escape.

Roger kept walking. The prison was a maze of nonsense and temptation but it had a pattern to it. Corridors became tighter. The strangeness exaggerated. The bars grew sparser. He just knew that if he kept walking, he could find his way out.

The trick was that he couldn’t stop. Every time he got tired and went to sleep, he had to start over when he woke up.

“Roger,” a woman stood before him. She had a black eye. Her dress was torn and her breast was exposed.

“I am so sorry, Roger,” his mistress, Amber, said. “I’ll be good, I promise. Hurt me if you want, whatever you want baby, I’ll do.”

Roger’s fingers curled into balls. Yes, it would be good to hurt Amber. The little whore just fucked him for his money so technically he paid for the bruises he gave her. It had been awhile since he had seen her here. Yes, beating her would take the sting out of his lust for food.

He raised his fist and Amber flinched. A wonderful thrill went through him but he stopped himself.

“No, I’ll beat you when I get out,” he said. Roger kept walking.

Of course, he would have to find Amber when he got out. He was what his possessed body had done about a year ago. The skank cunt bitch riding his body had gone to Amber, broken up with her and gave her enough money to go to college.

Roger snarled at the memory. That was his woman to abuse and that was his money his body gave her. There would be hell to pay.

He passed by a window and saw himself help a family keep their house. Fucking hell! That could have been a fat foreclosure bonus!

He walked by a trio of women he lusted for in college. They were fucking each other and begged him to join. He stroked his cock and kept walking.

He walked through an empty cafeteria hall. The smell of roast beef filled the air but he didn’t search for it. He knew better. It wouldn’t be there.

Roger was smiling. He was making real progress. Today he would escape.

He reached on office. There was a woman reading at the desk. She was an older woman, her black hair streaked with gray. Wrinkles pulled at her eyes. He didn’t recognize her. She was dressed like a police officer.

There was a door behind her but he waited. The woman hadn’t said anything to him. She hadn’t called for him to stay with her. That was strange.

“Who are you?” he asked.

The woman looked up at him. “Go away,” she said.

He stepped closer. None of the women here had ever said that. “My name is Roger. Are you trapped here too?”

She leaned back in her chair. He noticed that a few buttons on her blouse were open. He could see the hint of a red bra.

“Go away,” she said, slower this time.

He looked at the door. He had never reached this office before. It might mean he was close to escaping. It might mean he had a way to go. The best move would be to keep walking and find out.

But this intrigued him more.

Roger walked over to her and held out his hand. She took his hand and rose from her chair.

“You’re not like the other women,” he said. “You’re not an old crush, a woman I had dated, a friend of my parents or a girl from college. I haven’t worked with you or blackmailed you to bang me. Who are you?”

“What the fuck do you care?” she asked.

Roger kissed her. He had to know what would happen. The thought that she might be a real woman and not someone from his past was too thrilling to ignore.

He was lonely.

The woman resisted but then she melted into him. Roger wasn’t surprised. He was good looking. He was rich. Women knew these things.

The kiss went on and Roger cupped her breast. She moaned in his mouth. He felt her fingers grip his cock.

Fuck it. He was starving for new pussy.

He grabbed her pants and ripped them open. She squealed as she tugged her pants down. He got a glimpse of a nicely shaved pussy that he had never fucked before.

The woman laughed as she stepped out of her pants. He didn’t like it. He grabbed her by the arms and spun her around. A hard push bent her over the desk.

He laughed when she parted her legs. Women, they were all the same.

Roger grabbed her hips and guided his cock into her. She cried out as he pushed deep into her. He pushed her head down onto the desk. She didn’t try to rise up.

“That’s right,” Roger called. He slammed into her.

“Fuck!” she called.

Roger slammed harder. He had a lot of rage. He was also excited about how far he had came. The plan was simple; fuck this bitch and keep exploring. Maybe she was trapped here too. Fuck, maybe the uniform meant she worked here. He didn’t care. She was new and his cock craved new meat.

The desk screeched as the force of his fucking made it shake. Papers fell off and scattered onto the floor. A lamp fell over and shattered.

“Yes!” the woman cried out.

Roger fucked faster.

“God damn!” the woman cried out.

Roger’s fingers sunk into her hips.

“Do it, you little dick!” the woman yelled.

Roger has a sudden flash of memory. There was a police woman who came to the school he attended. She was there to tell them not to take drugs. He had ignored most of what she said because she had a single button undone on her shirt.

This was her.

The woman’s pussy muscles clenched inhumanly tight. His cock had no choice but to empty into her.

“Shit!” he screamed. He climaxed, his cock ejaculating into this forgotten titillation of his youth. The police woman grinded against him; milking his cock of every drop.

Roger pushed hard against her hips. His wilting cock slipped out. Exhaustion swept over him. He had been tricked. It was the disinterest that had done it. It was something new. He had to watch out for that next time.

His eyelids began to fall. He felt the police woman grab him by the arms. She pushed him towards a bed he hadn’t seen before. He hit the bed and everything was going dark.

“Fuck,” he moaned.

Tomorrow, tomorrow he would escape.


Imagine being trapped in a sexual prison staffed by your conquests, real and imagined. I have seen worse prisons.

“You’ve made worse prisons! Like the ones you create for your readers if they read all five Hallo-“

“Shush, Burny. You know how much I hate spoilers. I am afraid that is all the time we have for now mortals but do not despair, I will be here all of the month of October.”

“I’ll catch your souls, later.”

Oct 312012

“Greetings mortals!  It is me, Suckubeth, the infernal dream that always makes you cream.  With me as always is my Flaming-Skull-on-a-Stick companion, Burny.”
“Beware! Tonight is Halloween!  The one time of the year that demons can steal your soul just by flashing their tits!

“Oh Burny, that is just an old whore’s tale.  You only loose your soul if you motorboat a demon’s tits.” 

“Today mortals we have an extra special story for you.  It is that rare sex story that has monsters, not-so-innocent girls, sex AND foreplay.  Scary!  It is a story I like to call, ‘House of Tremors’.”
“No! Not that story!  Is it too sexy!  It will turn every reader into a raging sex maniac!” 

“Burny, you’re overreacting.  If they are reading this blog, they are already a sex maniac.”

“Read on, mortals.”


Kalea looked at the carnival haunted house.  It looked pretty cheesy.  Painted ghosts peeked out of broken windows.  A mural of a top-heavy witch decorated the entrance.  The sign read ‘House of Tremors’. It didn’t look like the kind of place that Kalea would enjoy.

Her friend, Sara, swore otherwise.  “Trust me,” Sara had said.  “You want to go in there.  Just make sure you go in alone, alright?  I promise it will blow your mind.”

So here Kalea was.  The county carnival had come to town and there wasn’t much to do.  The rides looked like deathtraps and the half the carnival games had already been shut down by the local sheriff.  Kalea might as well see what the haunted house had to offer.

A couple of giggling teenagers were in line ahead of her.  The boy promised his girlfriend that he would protect her.  The girlfriend promised she would need to be protected.  The man dressed as a hunchback let them in.

“How many in your group?” the hunchback asked Kalea.  Up close, Kalea had a feeling that might actually be hunched backed.  He looked very bored.

“Just me,” she said.

The hunchback smiled.  His eyes went from boredom to excitement in a heartbeat.  “Make sure you look behind the cocoon for a special part of the house,” he said.

“Alright,” Kalea said.  Maybe this is what Sara was talking about.

The door opened and Kalea stepped into a dim hallway.  Skeletons were painted on the walls.  A zombie mannequin held tattered hats like some sort of human hatrack. 

The hallway turned and the light was replaced with a black light.  Glowing white cobwebs filled the hallway.  A human shaped cocoon was on the right wall.

Kalea walked over to the cocoon.  Red eyes appeared above her and dropped rapidly.  Despite herself, Kalea screamed at the sudden approach.  A giant spider, all in glowing white, dangled above her before receding. 

“Cute,” she said.  She was annoyed with herself for screaming.  Cheap tricks were easy scares.  Kalea began to wonder if Sara was more easily impressed than Kalea knew. 

She did look behind the human cocoon.  There was a narrow door with a glowing doorknob.  Now she was intrigued.  Maybe there was a separate route for people by themselves.

Kalea went through the door.  Painted arrows in the floor led onward.  Grunting sounds came from up ahead.  Kalea was a little afraid but also strangely aroused.  She closed the door behind her and went down the hall.

There was a light up ahead.  An entire section of the wall was glass and it revealed a room on the other side.  The grunting sounds came from a speaker.  Kalea looked through the glass and gasped.

A naked woman was bent over a bench.  The woman wore a cat mask that covered her face completely.  Behind her was a naked man who wore a black hood like an executioner’s mask.

The man was fucking the man from behind.  He was covered in muscles like a body builder and he was pounding the fuck out of her.  The grunting sounds were the woman moaning from each thrust.  The cat mask concealed her face entirely but the way she slammed her body back into the executioner told Kalea how much she was enjoying it.

The executioner paused and pulled his cock out.  Kalea’s eyes widened.  The executioner’s cock was as massive as the rest of him.  It was a monster of a cock and he slammed it back into the woman.

“Holy shit,” Kalea whispered.  This is what Sara had been talking about.  There was a damn live sex act in the House of Tremors! 

Kalea kept watching.  The executioner was like a machine.  His body glistened from sweat or body oil.  In and out, in and out, he rammed.  It was unreal.  Sometimes he would fuck slowly and the woman would tremble on every inch that was being put into her.  Sometimes he was would furiously fast and the woman shook from the onslaught.

Eventually Kalea couldn’t watch anymore.  It was too vivid.  It was too unexpected. 

More importantly, she wondered what else waited for her in the House of Tremors.

Kalea left the glass wall.  The sounds of woman screaming in pleasure faded.  Glowing arrows guided Kalea to a door.  In dripping red letters, a message was written.

“Kiss the Mummy.”

Kalea opened the door.  It was a brightly lit dining room.  Cobwebs covered a dining table.  A grotesque menagerie of mannequins were in the act of eating gross looking food.  

She heard the scream of teenagers from up ahead.  Kalea followed the sound out of the dining room.

Another dark hallway led to room with a sarcophagus.  A mummy laid in the sarcophagus.  Faux Egyptian decorations adorned the room.  Mannequins of men with the heads of jackals leered at Kalea.

A hallway led out but Kalea ignored it.  The instructions said to kiss the mummy.  With the image of the executioner pounding the car masked woman still in her head, Kalea knew she just had to kiss the mummy.

Two steps in, the Mummy swung to an upright position.  Kalea jumped but the Mummy didn’t move.  It was just a mannequin.

Her heart pounding a bit faster, Kalea approached the Mummy.  She expected it to come to life.  The Mummy’s lips were cracked and rotted teeth grinned at her.  She kissed it anyway, as best she could.  She was relieved when the lips didn’t kiss back.

She heard a grinding noise.  Another doorway had opened.  Kalea looked to make sure no saw her before ducking into the new entrance.

This area was brightly lit.  A narrow hallway loomed before her.  There were holes in the walls and from every hole was an arm wrapped in bandages.  The arms moved.  There would be no way to go down that hall without the arms grabbing her.

Kalea checked the door behind her.  The knob turned and the door cracked open.  She could turn back at any moment.  It was good to know.

She walked down the hallway.  The hands reached for her.  They didn’t tug at her shirt or play with her hair; they went straight for her tits.  They reached between her legs.  A hand went around her throat and playfully squeezed.

Kalea froze.  She was scared.  She was also very turned on.  The door was right behind her.  She could leave right now.

She stayed.  The hands cupped her breasts.  The groping hands squeezed her ass.  The seeking hands rubbed at her crotch.  The fearless hands reached under her shirt.  She was covered in fondling admiration.

A set of bold fingers opened her mouth.  The fingers slipped over her tongue as her lips sealed around them.  The fingers gently fucked her face.  Kalea surprised herself by sucking them back.

More hands touched body.  Curious hands felt their way along her thighs.  Mischievous hands tickled her under the ribs.  Evil hands pinched her nipples through the material of her shirt and bra.  Strong hands gripped her wrists as if they were imprisoning her.  Knowing hands stroked her crotch from outside her pants.

Without warning, the hands drew back.  Kalea nearly fell from the sudden absence of hands.  The narrow hallway was devoid of life except for her. 

Kalea took a deep breath.  Her heart was pounding and her pussy was wet.  That was scary but damn, she didn’t want it to stop. 

She couldn’t wait to see what happened next.

At the end of the hallway was another door.  A tombstone was painted on the door. 

The inscription read “Ask the vampire where to go.”

Kalea went through the door and back into the main part of the House of Tremors.  She was in a bathroom where a mass of tentacles was coming out of the toilet.  The silhouette of an unsuspecting woman showered behind a curtain.  The sound of running water played on a recording.

She lefty the bathroom and went down another hallway.  Kalea was almost running down the hall to get to the next secret part. 

Around the corner was a bedroom.  Plastic bats were everywhere.  A mannequin of a woman slept in the bed.  Posed above her was a man dressed as Dracula.  He made menacing motions towards the woman.  When he saw Kalea, he turned and stalked towards her.

“I am supposed to ask you where I go next,” she said.

The Vampire smiled.  Fanged teethed sparkled at her.

“I will tell you, for a bite!” he said.

Kalea shuddered.  The teeth looked painful.  “Okay,” she said.

The Vampire pulled her to him.  He pushed her head to the side and his mouth descended on her neck.  Her fingers clutched his arms as she waited for the bite.

It was a nibble.  It was a delicate bite on the pulse of her neck.  Kalea moaned.  He was kissing and nibbling all the right spots.

“Dude! He’s biting that chick!” someone yelled.

Kalea jumped.  The Vampire held onto her and didn’t let her escape.  He bit down harder and she felt the fake teeth presh against her skin.  She cried out in anticipation.

“Come on Steve,” another voice said.  “I don’t want to watch them neck all day.  Maybe the next part has some blood!”

The Vampire let her go and Kalea took a step back.  He had bit down hard on one of her favorite spots.  She was torn between a need to fuck and a need to run away.  She checked her neck and there was no blood.  His bite wasn’t nearly as hard as she imagined it.

“Go through this door,” the Vampire said.  His hand pointed to what Kalea thought was just a painted door, but no, it was real.

“Go, before others come,” he said.

Kalea followed the Vampire’s instructions.  The door opened and she was in another short hallway.  A few feet away was another door.  She pushed through it and into the next room.

This room was set up like a mad scientist’s lab.  Electrical gear lit up and made lightning sounds.  Fake thunder rolled on a recording. 

The center of the room held Kalea’s attention.  A Frankenstein was strapped to the table.  The table was slanted so that the Frankenstein and Kalea were eye level.  Green paint covered his skin and shoddy clothes adorned his body.

His cock however, was completely exposed.  Unlike the rest of him, it wasn’t green.  It was a fleshy pink and red around the tip.  It was a little thicker than she had seen before.  She thought it was fake until she saw it throb.

 “Hmm,” Kalea said.  She took a closer look at the Frankenstein.  He was strapped in tight.  A gag went across his mouth.  His eyes were staring at her. 

“So I am allowed to touch you?” Kalea asked.

Frankenstein nodded.  Inarticulate moans came from the gag.

“So many people groped me in the hallway,” Kalea said.  “I guess it would only be fair if I wanted to grope you back.”

The Frankenstein whimpered.  The eyes grew wider.

Kalea reached for the cock.   It was hot in her hand.  She gave him a good squeeze and enjoyed the thickness of the cock.

Frankenstein moaned.

Kalea traced her finger around the tip.  It was a beast of a cock.  It was too thick.  It was more than a mouthful.  It would tear her up if it was inside her. 

She wanted it.  The bite on her neck still had her lightheaded.  The groping hands had more her so hypersensitive.  Watching the Executioner fuck had made her so wet.   

Frankenstein wanted it too.  He moved his hips but the straps held him tight.  He was helpless.

Kalea enjoyed herself.  She stroked him for a minute and laughed as the Frankenstein moaned.  When she opened her mouth, Frankenstein throbbed with lust.  Kalea pretended to go down on him but stopped at the last second.  Frankenstein moaned with frustration. 

“See you later,” she said.  Kalea was too horny.  She almost did take him into her mouth.  She left now while she could still control herself.

There was one door leading out.  A torn piece of cloth stretched across the door.  Letters had been embroidered onto the cloth.

“Flash your tits at the werewolf.”

“We’ll see,” Kalea said out loud.

The door opened into a noisy hallway.  Recorded screams were pumped into he hallway.  Lights cycled on and off to create a chaotic feel.  Kalea could hear screaming people rushing ahead of her.

Kalea walked slower.  Heads decorated the walls.  Here was a head with a hockey mask and there was a head of some sea monster.  The heads sometimes moved and other heads lit up.

Around the corner was the head of a werewolf.  Kalea knew that this was the one.  Was she really going to flash her tits at it?

Kalea looked both ways down the hallway.  She grabbed her shirt and yanked it up.  Her black bra covered her tits but hey, she wasn’t going to strip for it.  This would have to be enough.

The werewolf’s head moved away as the wall it was mounted on swiveled.  There was another hallway.  Kalea pulled down her shirt and went in.

This hallway was brightly lit.  It was a narrow hallway and the walls were covered from floor to ceiling in cloth of all kinds of colors.

They were panties.  Boring white panties hung alongside intricate lace panties.  Lycra thongs hung alongside panties the size of Kalea’s head.  Green panties, blue panties, white panties, yellow panties, red panties, black panties, purple panties, striped panties, sparkly panties and all sorts of cartoon characters on panties hung on the walls.

The end of the hallway was a door.  A locked box with a narrow slit sat beside it.  Written in black paint were the following words.

“No panties past this point.”

Kalea tried the door.  It wouldn’t open.  She went back to the door she came through.  It opened easily.

She had a choice.  Was she really going to give up her panties to this carnival haunted house?  Would her panties add to the ones already nailed to the walls?  Just how curious was she about the next part?

Kalea was very curious.  She was also horny as fuck.  She kicked off her shoes and pulled down her pants.  When her fingers grabbed the waistband of her black panties, she paused.  Were people watching her at this very moment?

She kind of hoped so.  Kalea pulled the panties down slowly.  The panties slid over her round ass, down her legs and off her feet.  Holding onto the panties with one hand, she pulled her pants and shoes back on.

The black panties fit into the narrow slot of the box.  The door clicked open.  Kalea continued.

A mirror dominated the far wall.  A bench was set up in the center of the room.  The mask of a cat sat beside it.  The Executioner stood silently by in his hood.  His condom covered cock throbbed with menace.

“Oh shit,” Kalea said.  This was it.  Every step in the House of Tremors had led to here.  She should of have seen it coming.

Another door led out.  It was marked ‘Exit’.  She could leave right now.  It was her choice.

Kalea smiled.  She had made her choice quite a while ago.  She just didn’t know it yet.

She peeled off her clothes.  This time she did take off her bra.  Naked, she reached for the mask and slid it on.  The rubber covered her face completely.  She could smell the heat and sweat of all the women who had been here before.

Kalea bent over the bench.  The Executioner stood behind her.  She spread her legs and lifted her ass in the air.

The Executioner entered her.  His massive unbelievable cock slid right into her very ready pussy.  He filled her completely and Kalea had never felt so fully penetrated.

Kalea settled into the bench as the Executioner fucked her.  He was starting slow and Kalea was enjoying every second.

She thought about the Vampire who knew just where to bite her neck.

She thought about her panties decorating the wall.

She thought about some stranger standing on the other side of the mirror, watching her be fucked.

She thought about Frankenstein’s cock in her hand.

She thought about the countless hands that groped her in the narrow hallway.

The Executioner fucked her faster.  Kalea grunted loudly.  It was relentless.  She was ready for it. 

Kalea moaned.  She remembered that people might be listening and she moaned louder.  She thought of people watching and she arched her back and slammed back against the Executioner. 

She hoped the whole haunted house was watching.  She wanted Frankenstein to be jacking his cock.  She wanted the Vampire to hear her cries.  She wanted the wall of hands to be stroking themselves while watching her.  She wanted to fuck them all.

Kalea remembered Sara.  Her friend must have done this.  Sara must have been fucked right here on this bench wearing this same mask.

“Fuck!” Kalea yelled as she came.  The orgasm rippled through her body.  She felt her toes curl and her breasts shake as she climaxed. 

“Enough,” she said a moment later. 

The Executioner pulled out.  His glistening cock was smeared with her juices.  It was still rock hard.

Kalea slid off the bench and put on her clothes.  The Executioner watched silently as she got dressed.  He watched as she stumbled to the exit.  Only then did he say something.

“Be sure to come back next year.” 


“Mmm, I don’t know about you but I am certainly in the mood to go into a strange place and follow scandalous suggestions.”

“I must admit that even my decapitated form has someone formed an erection.”

“Who knows Burny? You might just get lucky tonight, if a Flaming Skull on a Stick could actually get any.”

“I still have a mouth and that is all most women need.”

“We’ll see about that later, Burny.  As for you mortals, our time together is at an end.  Your month of free stories from me is an end.  You will now return back to your mundane existence free of sexy slashers, possessing perverts and trembling haunted houses.  You poor bastards.

“On the other hand, if you make a wish tonight while playing with yourself, I just might appear.  I might offer you more stories or perhaps, I will offer to let you star in your own perverse tale of the supernatural.  The price will be steep but the reward will be very worth it.”

“I’ll catch your souls, later.”

Oct 242012

“Greetings mortals!  It is me, Suckubeth, that wicked whore who always gives you more! With me as always is my Flaming-Skull-on-a-Stick Companion, Burny!”
“Flee for your souls, mortals!  Flee now before you become a mouthslave for a thousand demons!”

“Hush, Burny.  Some people pay good money for that.” 

“Answer me this, readers.  You have heard of Jason, Michael and Freddy, but have you ever heard of the most frightening slasher killer of them all?  Have you heard the story of a killer so awful, so terrible and so sexy that the police keep denying that she exists?  Have you heard the story of Jenny Two-Bags?”

“By all that is unholy and sweaty, not that story, Suckubeth!  It has gruesome deaths!  It has merciless executions!  It is too intense for people who read sex blogs!”

“Don’t be a scrotum, Burny.  People need to know of this story.  They need to beware of what lurks at fraternity parties on Halloween.”

“Read on, mortals.” 


Jenny awoke with a start.  A nearby rabbit ran away from her.  The birds of the woods hushed and watched her.

She put hand went to her breast.  There was no wound.  She clearly remembered an axe hitting her in the chest but her tit was whole and fine.

No, she had been set on fire.  Gasoline had been poured on her and she had stumbled into the woods to die. 

The smoothness of her breast said otherwise.  She had not been burned.

No, it was electricity.  She had been pushed into a pool and a stereo had been thrown in.  She remembered shaking and convulsing as millions of volts went through her.

Jenny looked down at her body.  The moonlight was dim but she could see her body.  She was fine.  Her legs were long and lovely.  Her tits were full and perky.  Her hands were as graceful as ever.  She was okay.

The wind blew and Jenny felt the cold caress against her face.  Panic rose within her.  She didn’t have her mask on!  Anyone could see how ugly she was!  They could see her buck teeth, bug eyes and the damn hair that always grew on her lip!  She was ugly, so damn ugly and she didn’t have her mask on!

She ducked her head down and let her long brown hair fall in front of her face.  It was a trick that she had learned ages ago and never forgot.  With her face covered, she could search more carefully.  She could search for her real mask.

The mask was beside her hand.  She sobbed with relief when she saw it.  The red mask showed a woman devil.  The cupid mouth was puckered for a kiss.  The eyes were sultry and feminine.  The mask was beautiful in ways that Jenny could never be.

There used to be a costume that went with the mask.  It was mostly red hose and a tight bra.  It was sexy.  Jenny had lost her virginity thanks to that costume. 

She also suffered the worse humiliation of her existence.  She remembered the laughter.  She remembered the tears.  She remembered running out of the frat house while everyone made fun of her.

“Two-Bag Jenny,” they called her.  The girl so ugly that if you fucked her, you had to make her wear two bags on her head.

She stood up.  She knew where was now.  This was where she had slit her wrists.  She had died here.

That was when the woman showed up.  The black woman had cruel eyes and a leering smile but she was so very kind.  She said that she would let her die, or she would give Jenny the chance to teach some assholes a lesson.  All Jenny had to do was give up her life.  All Jenny01. had to do was put on a mask and become a legend.   

Jenny looked down at the mask.  She knew that if she dropped it to the ground right now, she would die with it.   She had died so many times that maybe it was time to stay dead.

Then she remembered the laughter.  It was the mocking sounds of drunk boys.  She remembered the smug look of pretty girls who were glad they were not Jenny.  She could almost feel the seed spilling from between her thighs as she ran and cried.

Jenny put the mask on.  New strength rippled through her body.  The sounds of the forest faded and she heard new sounds.  There was a party going on.  Boys were lying to get in girls’ pants.  Girls were gossiping about other girls.  People were getting drunk and getting laid.

She walked through the forest.  Animals got the fuck out of her way. 

A mile later, she found the house with the party.  It was a fraternity house.  Of course it was. 

Two guys were outside in the back yard.  They were smoking and drinking by a grill.  The smell of meat drifted through the air but Jenny wasn’t hungry.  She never ate anymore.

She walked closer to the men.

“Holy shit, that chick is naked!” the first guy said.  He was wearing shorts and a white tanktop.  He had a baseball cap on that said ‘Redneck’.

“Fuck yeah!” the second guy said.  He was wearing jeans and had a shirt that looked like a fake tuxedo.  He was poking the charcoal with a metal rod. 

Jenny walked closer to them. 

“Oh wait, I know who she is supposed to be!” the Redneck said.  “She’s that chick that killed all those guys in the 50’s!  She’s Jenny Two-Bags!”

Jenny’s body twitched.

“That wasn’t the 50’s, dumbass!” Fake Tuxedo said.  “Jenny Two-Bags killed the Triple Sigma house in the 80’s!  I remember my brother telling me about it.”

“Who gives a fuck when it happened?” the Redneck said.  “We got a hot shorty here!  Hey baby, you want a beer?  Or maybe you want a little threesome?  Don’t worry baby, you can leave your mask on.  Your body is rocking hot no matter what you look like.”

Jenny took the beer.  She remembered beer.  She brought it to her lips but it tapped against the mask.  She felt a flush of embarrassment at her stupid mistake.

The boys laughed.  Her embarrassment turned to something darker.

She threw the beer in the face of the Redneck.  He swore and stumbled back.  A kick to the nuts and he doubled over. 

Fake Tuxedo laughed at his friend.  Jenny grabbed the charcoal stirrer from him and grabbed his nuts with her other hand.  His cock was hard and easy to find through his jeans.  He froze in pain as her fingers crushed his balls. 

Jenny stabbed him in the throat.  The metal rod went through him like the cock that went through her virginity; fast and brutal. 

She released Fake Tuxedo and turned to Redneck.  The asshole was still wiping his eyes with his shirt.  His friend was gurgling to death on the ground and he didn’t even know it.

“What is wrong with you, bitch?” Redneck said.

Jenny didn’t answer him.  She didn’t speak much anymore.  There was little point in talking to the dead anyway.

She grabbed both sides of his head.  Redneck tried to push her away but he got distracted by her breasts.  He grabbed her tits and squeezed.  Jenny let him feel her for a moment.  It was nice to be desired.

The moment was over.  Jenny broke his neck with a savage twist of her hands.  Redneck continued to squeeze her tits before the rest of his body died with him.

Jenny stripped him.  She took his shirt and pulled it on.  It was a little too big but the lack of sleeves would give her mobility.  She pulled on his shorts and was surprised to see that they fit.  When did boys get as skinny as girls?  She didn’t have any underwear but that was okay.  She liked the feeling of the denim against her sex.  It made her feel alive.

She entered the frat house through the back door.  The hallway was crowded with people drinking from plastic cups.  Loud music shook the house.  The smell of alcohol and sweat was overwhelming. 

Jenny looked at the crowd of drunk and horny college students.  It was hard to believe that she was once one of them.  In those days, she wanted nothing more than to be fucked.  Hell, she wasn’t looking for a boyfriend.  She just wanted something between her legs.  If someone had just fucked her and not laughed at her, no one would have had to die. 

There were too many to kill here.  As soon as she killed the first one, the rest would flee.  That was unacceptable.  As many people as possible needed to die.

She needed to go upstairs.  Jenny pushed her way through the crowd.  Someone offered her a beer and she ignored it.  Someone asked her to dance and she shook her head.  She’ll dance on their graves later.

Someone grabbed her ass.  It was a sloppy hard squeeze.  Jenny froze and looked behind her.  It was a man dressed pirate.

“I want to eat your booty!” he yelled. 

Jenny grabbed his hand and pulled him to the stairs.  The pirate raised his plastic sword and cheered.  Jenny wished it was a real sword.  Knives made things quicker.

Upstairs was a long row of bedroom doors.  Jenny opened one and found a couple fucking on the bed.

“Get the fuck out!” the man said.  He never stopping fucking as he yelled.

Jenny gave him the finger and dragged the pirate behind her.  The fucking man shrugged and kept fucking.  His woman never stopped moaning.

“I am going to eat the shit out of you,” the pirate said.

Jenny sat down on a bean bag chair.  The pirate fell clumsily on top of her.  His hands were on her hips.  His mouth was on her dirty shirt as he nibbled on the breasts underneath.  She felt his erection pressing through his pants and against her thigh.

There was so much lust for her body.  The pirate buried his head in her tits.  His hands went to her ass and wouldn’t let go.  They were still clothed but he was already humping her.  He wanted her bad.

Jenny enjoyed the attention.  Her pussy was wet and she wanted him inside her.  She wanted his hot seed to fill her body.  When he was fondling her body, she could believe that she was beautiful.

“Take off the mask and give me a kiss,” he whispered.

The illusion was over.  She shook her head and firmly pushed his shoulders down.  The grinning pirate kissed his way down her body.  He nuzzled against her smooth belly.  He kissed her hips and pressed his face against her crotch.  He kissed down to her thighs and gave her a tiny bite.

Jenny closed her thighs.  The pirate’s eyes bulged as an impossible vice closed around his throat.  He tried to scream but there was no air.  He pawed at her but her thighs were immovable.

Jenny reached into her shorts.  She stroked her wet pussy as he struggled.  She climaxed right as his body shook with death.

She watched the fucking couple with the pirate still trapped between her thighs.  The bed was shaking.  The man was yelling about how tight the woman was.  The music from downstairs was loud enough to shake the walls. 
Jenny opened her thighs and the dead pirate fell to the ground.  The couple didn’t notice.  She stood up and picked up a broom.  She tested how solid it was.  It would do.

The woman started to scream.  Jenny was worried that the woman was screaming with fear but no, it was with orgasm.

Jenny came to the bed.  The man noticed her.

“Like to watch, do you?” he asked.  The knowing sneer on his face reminded Jenny of so many men over the years.

Jenny drove the broom down into their bodies.  She had gotten good over the years.  She speared both their hearts with one thrust.  The wood splintered but the sheer force her thrust sent the broom through.

One time she had killed a couple with a spear right through the both of them.  Another time she had used a knife.  A third time she had used some sort of flag pole.  It was important to stab them together.  There was something special about penetrating a couple in the act of penetration.  It was ironic.  It made for a better story.

Jenny stared at the couple.  That was what it was all about, wasn’t it?  The bodies told a story to the living.  People would piece together what would happen and try to make sense of it.  There was a moral to the massacre.  They would know that this is what happens when you make fun of an ugly girl.  This was the story of Jenny Two-Bags.

It was time to really get to work.  She searched the room.  It wasn’t long before she found a knife.  Boys always kept a knife in their bedroom.  It made them feel tough. 

Jenny went into the hallway and into the next bedroom.  There she found another fucking couple.  She slit the throat of the woman on top and stabbed the man underneath.  She found a bat and left the knife behind.

In the next bedroom was another fucking couple.  The man tried to use the girl as a shield.  Jenny hit them both with equal amounts of hate.  In this room she found a bigger knife.

In the next bedroom found two naked men asleep in each other’s arms.  That was new.  She left them alone.  They weren’t a part of her story.

In the next bedroom she found two men sharing a girl.  This was more familiar to Jenny.  She threw a knife at one man and hit the other with the bat.

The girl tried to run.  Jenny grabbed her by the throat and lifted her off the ground.  The girl pushed at her but her punches were as weak as a boy.

“Let me go you psycho bitch!” the girl yelled.

Jenny remembered.  There had been girls at that Halloween party so long ago.  They had laughed at her.  Their words were meaner than the boys.  Jenny could remember some of their names.  Mary.  Sarah.  Rebecca.

Jenny dropped the woman to the slammed the woman into the ground.  She put her foot on the woman’s throat and held it there while she kicked.  The woman died under Jenny’s heel and it felt right.

She went back in to the hallway.  Blood had splattered her a few times but no in the hall gave her a second look.  It was Halloween. 

A man came up the stairs.  Jenny felt her heart skip a beat.  He wasn’t handsome.  He wasn’t drunk.  He looked sweet.  He looked nice.  He looked like someone that might be good to her

Jenny dropped the knife and bat.  She walked over to him and reached out for his hand.  She wanted to say something smart and seductive but words were so hard to say these days. 

She didn’t need to say anything.  The guy looked her over.  He saw her beautiful breasts within the tight shirt.  He saw the short shorts.  He saw the cute devil girl mask.  He saw her lovely brown hair. 

He took Jenny’s hand.  “Hey, I haven’t seen you.  What’s your name?” 

She couldn’t answer. 

“My name is Martin,” he said.  “I’m a psych major.  How about you?”

She didn’t answer but she waved her hand at the bedrooms.

“It is loud out here,” Martin said over the noise of the party.  “Let’s go to my room.  Hopefully Greg isn’t fucking anyone there.”

They went to Martin’s bedroom.  Greg wasn’t here.  Jenny was relieved that it was one of the bedrooms that she hadn’t killed anyone yet.

“Need anything?” Martin said.  “I know we got beer downstairs but I’ve got water or soda if you want to stay sober.”

Jenny grabbed his hand and placed it on her breast.  He blushed but he also squeezed.  Jenny moaned as his thumb traced over her hard nipple.

“Oh man,” Martin said.  “Look, you’re hot but I don’t know you.  I have never fucked a stranger before.”

Jenny unzipped his pants.  His hard cock pressed against her hand.  He moaned and kissed Jenny’s neck.  Jenny shuddered.

“Fuck me,” she managed to say.  It came out as quiet as a whisper and as soft as a fallen leaf.

“Yes,” Martin moaned.  He bit down gently on her neck.

Jenny pushed him onto his bed.  She tugged his pants off of him.  Sharp nails tore his underwear apart.  Martin giggled at the sudden display of strength.

“Holy shit,” he giggled. 

Jenny pulled off her pants.  She looked with embarrassment at the thick bush of her pubic hair.  She knew that women trimmed their hair now.  Sometimes they didn’t have any hair at all.

“Oh God you are beautiful,” Martin moaned.

Jenny’s embarrassment melted.  She pulled the tank top off her body and exposed her breasts.  Martin’s jaw dropped in worship.

Jenny climbed on top of him.  She straddled him, guiding his hard cock up into her. 

There was a calming bliss.  Being filled quieted the rage.  Being entered silenced the anger. 

Slowly she impaled herself until he was completely inside her. 

“Son of a bitch,” Martin groaned.  He reached for her breasts and squeezed. 

Jenny was a woman again.  Groped and filled, she fucked Martin.  She rode the college frat boy with a passion that was only unleashed once a year.  Her hips were like a wild animal’s.

The bed shook from the intensity of their fucking.  The headboard slammed against the wall.  The music from downstairs was still too loud but it wasn’t loud enough to down out their grunts and moans. 

“Holy shit,” Martin groaned.  His fingers squeezed tighter around her breasts.  Usually when men hurt her breasts; they were trying to get away. It was a delicious kind of pain when they grabbed them to keep her closer.

It didn’t take long.  Martin climaxed first.  She felt his hot seed releasing into her body.  He looked up at her with an expression of worship and wonder. 

Jenny’s reaction was immediate.  Her sex squeezed and pleasure exploded within her.  She felt every inch of where their bodies met.  She felt fulfilled and complete with his cock inside her.  She felt alive and she never wanted the moment to end.

She let out a scream of pleasure.

The mask fell from her face.  It landed on Martin’s chest.  He looked up at her and the blood drained from his face.  She felt his cock wilt inside her and leave her sex.

“Jesus mother-fucking Christ!” Martin yelled. 

Rage burned within her.  Fury wiped out the bliss she felt from the orgasm.  She snarled and reached for his throat.

Martin tossed her off his body with surprising strength.  It wasn’t disgust that powered him, it was pure terror.  Jenny was thrown from the bed and she landed hard on the floor. 

Jenny started to rise.  She was going to kill him.  It was going to be a slow death.  Martin wo0uld be begging for death when she was done with him.

That was when she saw the full length mirror in front of her.  The face that stared back at her was different.  It was still ugly, but now it bore scars.  The nose had been burned.  Her eyes bulged from being electrocuted.  Knife, axe and chainsaw marks marred her cheeks and forehead.  The lips had a bloated quality from being drowned.

She was uglier than ever.

Jenny grabbed the mask on the bed and put it on.  She didn’t bother with her clothes.  The music stopped and screams echoed through the frat house.  More people screamed and this time it was coming from much closer.  People had found her kills.

She tore a bed post off to use as a club.  The door burst open and some incredibly brave and stupid frat boy came through the door.  He was dressed as a boxer to show off his muscles.  He carried a long knife that looked like it came from some science fiction franchise.

“It’s fucking Jenny Two-bags!” he yelled.  He was actually grinning.  “I am going to fuck you up, bitch!”

Jenny swung the bedpost.  The frat boy’s head went into the wall and his body went limb.  Jenny picked up his knife.  It was sharp.  She stepped over him and walked into the hallway.

Martin was at the top of the stairs.  He was still naked from the waist down.  A crowd of curious frat boys stood between her and Martin.  All of the boys had weapons ranging from baseball bats to knives. 

“She killed our brothers!” one of them yelled.  They rushed her.

Jenny stabbed one and backhanded another’s head off.  She slit the throat of a third and punched through the gut of a fourth.  She tore a knife from a fifth, stabbed him with it, and then used both knives to stab a sixth.  It took about ten seconds.

More boys came at her.  Martin didn’t.  He turned and ran down the stairs.

Jenny growled.  Martin was getting away and these shitheads were in her way.  All men were alike but Martin had fucked her and rejected her.  He had to die.  He had to die tonight and these assholes would not stop her.

The knives flashed and blood sprayed.    She had killed so many over the years that she was quite good at it.  Blood sprayed on her naked body.  Dying hands grabbed at her ankles as she walked by them.   Swinging tits bounced as she cut her way through flesh and bone.  Jenny was a butcher among sheep.

The party was over and there downstairs was empty.  A drunk frat boy was passed out on the couch.  Jenny slit his throat without ever breaking her stride.  It was a gratuitous murder but to her it was second nature.  He forfeited his life the night he partied at a frat house.

Jenny heard a sound behind her.  A keg fell over and Martin ran to the kitchen.  His cock, still wet from their fucking, dangled between his legs.

She ran after him.  She experienced a strange sense of repetition.  She had chased other boys.  They had fucked her and managed to get away.  Jenny remembered chasing them and the frustration of being just a few steps behind them. 

Jenny burst through the kitchen door to see Martin’s bare ass run into the dining room.  She followed him into the dining room and tripped over a chair that he threw at her.  She chased him into the hallway and he slipped on some spilt beer.  She smiled behind her mask as the distance between them shrank.

She swung her knife as he was getting up.  A thin red line appeared on his back but it was just a glancing slice.  Martin screamed but he kept running.  Jenny missed with her second swing.

He ran down the hall.  Jenny threw a knife in frustration.  It went into the wall beside Martin.  He ducked back into the main living area.

Tears sprang to Jenny’s eyes.  He was going to get away.  She just knew it.  Just like the black boy she fucked once.  Just like the cute nerd she fucked once.  Just like the redhead boy she fucked once.  One always got away.  It was unfair!

Jenny ran faster.  She wouldn’t let this one get away.  She ran into the living room and saw the open front door.  A smile came to her lips behind the mask.  In open ground, no one could outrun Jenny Two-Bags.

She ran outside.  Bright headlights blinded her.  She held up a hand to block the light.


Jenny growled.  The fucking police were here!  Over the years they had come faster and faster.  Jenny could remember a time when she could murder an entire frat house before even one police officer would show up.  Now it looked like there were dozens of them.  They had her surrounded and they all had their guns drawn.

Martin was there.  He was hiding behind a police man.  Someone had put a coat over him.  Her lover was here and he was going to live. 

“Nooo!” Jenny screamed.  She ran towards them.  

Bullets slammed into her body.  Metal tore through her beautiful breasts.  Pain erupted in her slender thighs.  Lancing metal filled her body with the cruelty of frat boy pricks.

A bullet hit her in the face.  Her head spun around and the mask went flying.  Jenny saw that the mask was unharmed by the bullet.  It would endure when Jenny’s body would not.

She fell backwards.  Her body was a mass of pain.  She didn’t care.  Jenny was too angry.  Some of the frat boys had lived.  She didn’t get to kill them all.  The one she had fucked had lived.  Rage gripped her heart until it stopped beating.

Years passed by.

People whispered stories of Jenny Two-Bags.  No one really believed them.  Those who did believe thought that the multiple murders were the work of a copycat killer. 

College kids continued to behave badly.

One night, Jenny awoke with a start.  The sounds of the woods became quiet.  She put her hand to her chest expecting bullet wounds.  Her breast was perfect and pert.

She reached around for her mask.  It was right beside her.

Jenny Two-Bags put it on . . .


“That story always brings a tear to my eye and a clench to my cunt.  It truly is a Halloween miracle.”

“Who was that woman who gave Jenny the power to be a legend?”

“Who do you think it was?  It was me of course!  What is the point of being a demon if you can’t play Demonic Godmother to sad girls?”

“Your soul is truly a black pit of despair.”

“Thank you, Burny.  For that little flattery, I might shave a day off your eon long sentence of damnation.”

“As for you readers, we have one more story left this Halloween!  I have saved the best for last so join us next week!  I’ll catch your souls, later.”

Oct 172012

“Greetings mortals!  It is me, Suckubeth, that hellish slut who loves to rut! With me as always is my Flaming-Skull-on-a-Stick Companion, Burny!”

“Listen closely! I will teach you a spell to protect you from demon temptresses! First recite after me, Futu, Cuntu Fun-mmm!

“Hush Burny.  These nice readers don’t need a spell of protection.  I will keep them safe from any horrors between my ever warm thighs and my ever magical tits.”

“Welcome readers to our latest story of death and little deaths.  I have an especially chilling story for you tonight.  It is a story about death, Halloween and panties.  I call it, Action News Dead!”

“No! Not that story, Suckubeth!  That is based on a TRUE story.  It contains things mortals aren’t meant to know!”

“I know Burny.  Forbidden knowledge is the sexiest knowledge of all.”

“Read on, mortals.”

This is Action News Six with important breaking news.  I am Ariel Miller and we are receiving reports from Estelline that people dressed as zombies are attacking women in the streets.  The attacks are occurring along Stratford road.  The assailants appear to be stripping women and stealing their underwear. 

For more on this, we turn to James who is live on the scene.  Elizabeth Hoyle, what can you tell us?

Hello Ariel, so far police source tell me that seven women have been attacked.  Five of these women were mothers accompanying their children on their trick or treat rounds while the other two women were college students who were dressed as sexy witches.  All of the women were pinned to the ground and their pants were removed followed by their panties.  In the case of the two college students, their short skirts were lifted and panties were only stolen from one girl since the other girl, a Lorraine Halliday, was not wearing any panties.

Elizabeth, how did the victims describe the attackers?  Is it true they were dressed as zombies?

Yes, Ariel, that is how they described the attackers.  One source said that they were quote “wearing ragged clothes with ragged skin like that TV show where they have zombies but nothing ever interesting happens until the last five minutes of each episode.”

She’s right, Elizabeth, that show does meander quite a bit.  Does the police have any leads?

Not yet, Ariel.  They are currently sending patrols up and down Stratford Street but no arrests have been made.  The police would also like to stress that no children have been attacked.  So far only women of consenting age have had their panties stolen. 

Thank you Elizabeth.  We are now going to go to James Stanley who is live on Avon Street with an update.  What do you have for us, James?

Ariel, I have with me another victim who says she was attacked just five minutes ago.  Her name is Kathryn Baker, and we are not showing her from the waist down as she is butt-naked.  Kathryn, can you tell us what happened?

Yeah, I got molested by some fucking zombies!  I was out giving treats to the kids dressed as a sexy superhero and these assholes attacked me!  They held me down and stripped off my star spangled underwear! 

Please, ma’am, remember this is live.  Could you tell us about your attackers?  Were they dressed as zombies?

Dressed as zombies?  They were mother BLEEP zombies!  I pulled off one of their hands and I punched another guy’s jaw right off!  The hand crawled off but I still have the jaw right here.  Take a look!

As you can see Ariel, it appears to be a human jaw.  It is decayed and I believe the worm stuck between the teeth is alive.  I used to work with the CSI unit before I switch to local news and I can state that this is a human jaw and not a replica.

James, can you ask Kathryn what happened after they took her panties?

Sure, Ariel.  Kathryn, what happened after they wrestled your star spangled underwear off your body?

The son of a BEEP swung it over his head and the rest of the zombies cheered!  He put it on his head and then him and his buddies went down the street towards Robin Drive.  That is when I noticed that some of the zombies were wearing panties on their heads too.

As you heard Ariel, these zombies or people dressed as zombies are on some sort of panty raid.

Thank you James.  Now we turn to local historian, Tamara Tortuga who is on the phone.  Tamara, you said that you have some information for us?

Yes, Ariel, I know who the zombies are!  They are members of the Prairie Dog Lodge, Chapter 278 to be exact.  They used to go on an annual panty raid of the locals every Halloween until the practice was discontinued in 1921.

So Tamara, you think these attackers are reviving in that tradition?

No, Ariel, you don’t understand.  Chapter 278 disbanded when a fire broke out at their lodge before one of their panty raids in 1921.  All of the members died before they got to go out and steal panties.  I don’t think someone has revived the tradition, I think the original lodge members have REVIVED and are now stealing panties!

Tamara, that is ridiculous!  How can you be serious?  Yes, Chief Meteorologist Bill Farrar, do you something to add?    

Well, Ariel, I just wanted to add that tonight is a rare event.  We have a blue moon and we do have several solar flares.  In addition, we have some unusually warm weather coming from west which as you well know, is the location of several sacred Native American sites.  If the dead were to rise and steal panties, the weather is certainly right for it.

Thank you Bill for your insight.  So Tamara, do you think the weather somehow summoned the dead of the Prairie Lodge to go on a panty raid?

Yes, Ariel, I do.

If that is true. what can the local police do to stop it?

Ariel, I don’t think they can.  Traditionally the panty raid won’t end until midnight.  At that point they return to the lodge and get drunk.  Since the Lodge burned down and was replaced with a strip mall, I suspect the zombies will turn to their graves.  I think the most we can hope for is to stay inside and wait it out.  Either that or leave our panties hanging from our door knobs and fence posts.

Thank you, Tamara.  You heard it here first on Action News Six; citizens should leave their panties outside for the zombies to get.  Bill, you have something? 

I just wanted to say that people could also just take their panties off and have them ready to hand over to the zombies.  That way no one has to be held down and stripped.

Thank you, Bill.  Our Chief Meteorologist recommends that women out on the streets tonight have their panties on hand ready to hand over to the zombie panty raiders.

Now I would like to return to Elizabeth Hoyle who has an update for us.  Elizabeth?

Ariel! I got attacked by the zombies!  We moved down to Arthur Lane and the zombies attacked!  The fuckers held me down and ripped my pants right off of me!  Their cold dead hands groped my ass and pinched my thighs!  They stole my panties and one of the fuckers stole my shoes!  Those heels cost me eighty fucking dollars!

Elizabeth!  Remember that we’re live!

Well those BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP sucking BLEEP aren’t alive!  They are BLEEP zombies and they are falling apart!  I tore an arm off of one of them and another left behind some ribs!  These are not people dressed as zombies, these are BLEEP BLEEP zombies!

Thank you Elizabeth for that report.  I think you should definitely take a moment to compose yourself.

BLEEP you, Ariel!

For those of you just joining us, zombies, or people dressed as zombies, are on a panty raid targeting adult women of consenting age.  They were just recently spotted on Arthur Lane.  Residents are advised to take off their underwear and to hand it over to the raiders in order to avoid having them taken off by force. 

We need to cut to a commercial break but when we return, we shall speak with Rebekah Hillard who claims that not only did she have her panties stolen but one of them stole her bra as well.  Keep it here on Action News Six for all the latest on this ongoing story. 


“Unfortunately the news team never came back on the air.  Government agencies moved in and shut them down.  I hear that Ariel Miller is currently working as the morning DJ at Guantanamo Bay.”

“Necromantic Panty Raids fall under the jurisdiction of the White House according to the Patriot Act.  Look it up!”

“That’s right, Burny.  Of course, even knowing this has now made you a criminal subject to several hideous civil-rights-destroying laws.  Oopsie!  I hope you have a good lawyer, or failing that, a sympathetic demon temptress.

“I tried to tell you not to read the story but no one ever listens to a skull on a stick.”

“That is so true, Burny.  Join us next week mortals if you are not sitting in a political prison somewhere.  I’ll catch your souls, later.” 

Oct 102012

“Greetings, mortals!  It is me, Suckubeth, that demon muse of self-abuse!  With me as always is my Flaming-Skull-on-a-Stick Companion, Burny!”

“Flee now before your genitals become haunted!”

“Oh, Burny.  You now it is too late for that.  Their genitals are already haunted.  Welcome readers to the latest tale of sex and terror.  You may notice that I am in color this week.  The bonds that separate the world of the mundane and the world of the supernaturally sexy becomes weaker the closer we get to Halloween.  Who knows? Next week I may be whispering right over your shoulder!”

“For the love of your mortal soul, wear pants next week!  If you don’t, she might be whispering to you from inside your demon penetrated ass!”

“Silence, Burny!  You don’t want to give away all of next week’s surprises, do you?  As for today’s surprise, I am offering a terrifying after dark special concerning a really bad boy who does something he really shouldn’t.  It is a story called, A Nightmare of Tits and Thighs.”

“You can’t show that story! It will be a bad example for young people everywhere!”

I certainly hope so, Burny.  I should note that all characters are of legal age of consent.  Demons prefer ripe fruit after all.”  

“Read on, mortal.”

The black envelope was in our mailbox.  I snatched it out as quickly as I could.  I thanked God that my mother hadn’t checked the mail yet.  It would have been the end of me.

I walked into my house and went straight to my room.  I didn’t close the door because that would have been too suspicious.  With my back to the door, I opened the letter.

Pictures tumbled out.  There were pictures of my cock wrapped in women’s panties.  There was a picture of my face kissing a black woman’s ass.  A picture fell to the ground that showed me naked in a swimming pool.

None of the pictures were real.  I had never done any of these things.  It wouldn’t matter to my mother.  These pictures would get me grounded, reported to the police or sent off to boarding school. I didn’t know how Mrs. Feen creates these pictures but I know what they were.  They were blackmail.  She was summoning me to her house.

I tucked the envelope under my mattress.  I couldn’t destroy them.  That was against the rules.

The waiting was the hardest part.  At dinner I tried not to think of open thighs waiting for me.  When the family watched television, I tried not to think of soft abundant tits bigger than my head.  When I went to bed to pretend to sleep, my cock betrayed my intentions with the tent it formed. 

My mother went to bed first.  My father went an hour later.  The house was quiet except for the pounding of my heart.  I still had to wait an hour before midnight rolled around.  I was in no danger of falling asleep.

I slipped out of bed as quiet as a criminal.  I put on my pants and shirt but I skipped the shoes.  I fear that shoes would make too much noise.  I took the black envelope though.  The dirty pictures were my ticket.  In total darkness I left my home and locked the door behind me.  

The street was so quiet at night.  Until you have walked bare foot down a street in the middle of the night, you have no idea how still it is.  Only sinners walked this hour. 

The sidewalk pricked at my feet.  Tiny concrete bites nibbled at callused feet that have walked this way far too many times. 

Mrs. Feen lived in the house at the end of the street.  The door was unlocked.  Anyone could have walked into her house.  I stepped in and closed the door behind me.  My fingers ached to lock the door behind me but I didn’t.  I have learned the rules and I have learned the punishments.

Candle light guided me.  Flickering candles led me down the hallway.  Pictures of Mrs. Feen, her husband and their son stare down at me.  A dropped pair of panties told me which room to stop at. 

Mrs. Feen was in the dining room.  She was on the table.  Black heels made scuff marks on the dining room table.  Her legs formed a canyon wrapped in fishnet stockings.  I could see the rising mounds of her lace bra but I couldn’t see her face.  All I could see is the hairy forest of her pubic hair waiting for me.

“Come,” she whispered. 

I went to the table.  My bare feet walked across the cold floor.  I dropped the black envelope beside her and she reached for it.  She laughed as she examined the pictures.

“Please me,” Mrs. Feen whispered.

I reached across the table.  My feet were still on the floor as I leaned across the table. I reached past the shiny black heels that guarded the canyon of her fishnet covered thighs which led to the forest of her pussy.  My fingers pushed into the damp hair and past the waiting lips.  Heat engulfed my fingers.

I thought of the pussies that I have never touched.  I thought of my crush, Megan, and what she would feel like.  I thought of my Chemistry teacher, Ms. Brindle, and whether she was as hairy as Mrs. Feen.  I thought of my ex-girlfriend, Emily, and the pussy that I never saw but my friend Andy has.  All of their pussies were unknown to me but the pussy I was stroking that night was the most frightening of them all.

“Do it,” Mrs. Feen whispered.

My mouth joined my fingers.  The scent of her bush made me delirious.  I licked past damp hair and open lips into an endless spring of tang and sweat. 

I hesitated.  I had been here before.  I knew what lied ahead.

Mrs. Feen put her hand on my head and pushed.  I opened my mouth and dropped into the forest of her pussy.  I snorted like a pig as my desire to consume her pussy overwhelmed my need to breathe.

The canyons of her legs closed around me.  I was trapped in the net of her stockings and I would never be free.  Sharp heels stabbed and pinned my body to the table.  It was too late to turn back.  There was no more escape for this poor dirty boy.

Mrs. Feen moaned and her moans shook my body down to my trembling cock.

I held on and licked.  I ate her pussy and lost myself between a woman’s thighs.  My stomach hurt from where I was bent over the table but it didn’t matter.  My neck hurt from the angle that I was licking from but it didn’t matter.  My head hurt from her crushing thighs but it didn’t matter.  I was eating Mrs. Feen’s pussy and she would never release me until I pleased her.

“Faster my naughty boy,” Mrs. Feen moaned.  “Use that wicked tongue like I taught you.”

I flattened my tongue against her pussy and licked faster.  Her hips fucked my face and sealed her tangy pussy against my nose.  My air was be cut off until her hips moved to another position.  I tried to move just an inch to let my nose breathe but the inescapable trap of her thighs would not let me go.  

This was so wrong.  Boys my age shouldn’t have been licking the wicked pussies of such a wicked woman.  My cock shouldn’t have been so damn hard in my pants.  My balls shouldn’t have been aching for release the moment I saw that black envelope.  I shouldn’t have been so damn happy to be trapped between her thighs again.

I licked and I knew despair.  I licked and I knew guilty joy unimaginable.  I licked and I knew shame.  I licked and I knew the thrill of fear. 

I became lost in the forest of her pussy and I feared that I would never find my way home.

So I licked.  I burrowed into the thick hair and I ate the most forbidden of pleasures.  I drank the pleasure of a woman that was too old for me.  I learned the secrets of womanhood while she writhed and twisted beneath me.

I drowned.  I struggled to breathe but I never stopped licking.  My hands clutched at the fishnet walls but they refuse to open.  I never stopped licking as the juices of her pussy filled my mouth.  This is how I would die.

The canyons parted.  I could breathe again.

Mrs. Feen rose on her elbows.  I could see her face now but I was looking at her chest.  Her breasts jiggled within her lace bra.  The thin lace accented instead of hiding her dark hard nipples.  A moan spilled from my soaked lips.

“You can leave,” she said.  “You can leave right now and I will never call on you again.”

I stayed between her thighs.  My hard cock ached with frustration.

“Or you can use me,” Mrs. Feen said.  “And you will owe me and I will call on you again.”

I whimpered.  I could be free.  I would never see another black envelope.  I could return to my life.  I could go back to school and masturbating alone in my bed.  It would be an end to this nightmare of tits and thighs.    

But I was young and she was not.  It was never really much of a choice.

I pulled off my pants and underwear.  She laughed as I scampered on top of her.  The table groaned under my weight but I knew from many nights that it would hold us both.  I pulled out a breast from her bra. The flimsy material gave up her treasure so easily. I palmed her breast and squeezed.   My fingers trembled around the breast of a woman.  It seemed silly that I ever lusted for the small fruit of women my age.  This was a real breast; watered with the lust of many lovers and nurtured from a hundred hands.   

My mouth sucked on her nipple.  My face nuzzled against softness unimaginable.  My fingers pulled and squeezed and grabbed and fondled and pushed and twisted. 

Mrs. Feen moaned and whispered terrible things.  She whispered about my cock in her ass.  She whispered about the mailman’s balls in her mouth.  She whispered about my father’s cock under her heels.  They were terrible things that I did not want to hear and I memorized every word.

“What do you want?” Mrs. Feen asked. 

“I want to fuck your tits,” I said.

Mrs. Feen laughed.  When she laughed it was like every woman in the world laughed with her.  My weakness was known to my crushes, known to my teachers and known to my mother.   

“Do it,” she whispered.

I burned with shame but I didn’t care.  My young cock was so hard that I was afraid that I was going to spurt before it touched her tits. 

Mrs. Feen laid back.  Her bra was already off in some mysterious manner known only to women.  I straddled her chest and she spat into her hands.  She rubbed her spit onto my cock until it shined as much as my wet face.  She squeezed her tits together and I thrusted between them.

There was so much heat.  It was so slippery and smooth. 

Her pussy would have been wetter, her mouth would have been softer, her ass would have been tighter but none of those were her as glorious as her breasts

I fucked Mrs. Feen’s tits.  The spit dried quickly and the friction of our fucking grew hotter.  While she pressed her breasts together, I reached down and groped the hard nipples.  She fucked my cock and I fucked her tits.  The head of my cock emerged from her tits only to be swallowed back up by her bountiful breasts.

She looked up at me as I fucked.  I was on top of her but she was in control of me.  Red lipstick gleamed on smiling lips.  Her eyes looked up at me with the smug knowledge that I was her possession. 

“Come,” she whispered.  “Come, you filthy sinner.  Come, you dirty boy.  Come like I know you want to.”

I wanted to come so bad.  Sitting on her chest with my cock between her tits, I felt like I was on top of the world.  I could pretend that I was the one in control.  I could fantasize that it was my choice to sneak out of the house.  As my slick cock slipped in and out of her tits, I could make believe that I was not her slave.

There was a noise upstairs.  Someone closed a door.  Terror gripped me and I froze in mid thrust. 

“Keep fucking,” Mrs. Feen commanded.

I obeyed.  I was terrified but I kept fucking.  I feared that Mr. Feen would come downstairs and find us.  I imagined his rage as he found me balls deep in his wife’s tits.  I imagined him telling my parents.  I pictured the entire school knowing what I did late at night.

I fucked faster.  I fucked knowing it might be my last time between her tits.  Mrs. Feen squeezed her tits tighter around my cock.  A cruel smile spread across her lips.  It was if she didn’t care if we were discovered or not.  She just wanted to see if I got off first.

I did.  My cock confessed all of my sins between her wicked tits.  Streams of sin shot from my cock and desecrated her chest.  A terrible release came over me and I felt a moment of peace.  I didn’t care if I was caught anymore; I had came and it was awesome.

Mrs. Feen let go of her breasts and released my cock.  Spit and seed stuck to my cock.  I rolled off the table and felt my soul slam back into my body.  The world crept back into my reality.  The footsteps upstairs seemed louder.  A toilet flushed.

“Go,” she said.  She wiped a line of my seed off her chest and put it in her mouth.  She sucked her finger nosily in the dark dining room.

I rolled off the table and grabbed my pants.  My cock was already becoming hard again.  My drained cock was sensitive inside my pants.

I followed the candles in the hallway back to the door.  I heard what sounded like a creak of a stair from down the hallway.  I rushed out the door.

Outside, I hurried down the walkway to the side of the road.  The stones of the walkway accused my bare feet of crimes I had done.  My watch said it was almost one o’clock.  My parents should still be asleep. 

When I reached the road, I saw someone across the street.  I froze and debated what to do.  It looked like my friend, Kenneth.  I had been caught!

Kenneth pretended to tie his shoes.  He was wearing flip flops.  I turned towards my house and walked as fast as I could.  Maybe he didn’t recognize me.

When I looked behind me, I saw Kenneth walk up to Mrs. Feen’s house.  He carried a black envelope in his hands.

“My, my, so many questions are unanswered!  How does Mrs. Feen produce that blackmail evidence?  Does Mr. Feen know what goes on downstairs?  Just how many people are trapped in this blackmail orgy?”

“Perhaps the uncertainty of the answers is to recreate the illogical reasoning found in nightmares? Or perhaps it is symptomatic of how sexual newbies are often frightened and confused by their first sexual relationships?

“That is quite possible, Burny!  I knew condemning the soul of an erotica critic and mounting his tormented head on a stick was good for something!”

“That is all I have to show you this time, mortals.  Join us next week for another guilty pleasure.  I’ll catch your souls, later.”

Oct 052012

The Purple Spa was a pretty lackluster massage parlor when it was open.  The women who worked there didn’t have hearts of gold, the madam didn’t sing songs about Christmas and the customers sure as fuck did not look like Richard Gere.  It was the kind of place that teenage boys couldn’t wait to go to and adult men regretted having been. 

The only reason if lasted the five years that it did was because it was located at a crossroad between four small towns.  Men could stop by on their way to go to work, visit family or go on dates with unsuspecting girlfriends.  A convenient line of trees blocked the parking lot from the prying eyes of anyone passing by on the highway.  Secrecy was more important that service quality.   

It has been closed for ten years now but people still talk about it.  They say if you spend the night there, you might dream about the whores who used to work there.  Even stranger, the whores in your dreams are far more exciting and friendlier than the women who used to work there.  They say that you will come in your pants twice and that is on a slow night.

You have to spend the night to get the full effect.   You have better luck if you stay in one of the rooms that whores used to work in.   Some guys bring money that they leave on the ground.  They say that your chances of having a good dream are much better that way.

What do they dream of exactly?  All sorts of shit.  The original whores used to give you a lazy back rub and a bored handjob but the dream whores have all sorts of tricks.  They do things with their mouths, their tits, their cunts and their asses that will spoil you for life.  A lot of the stuff they do in your dreams might not be physically possible but when you are dreaming, what do you care? 

The best part about the dream whores is their attitude.  The real whores were strict about what your money could get you but the dream whores are insatiable.  They are the cock hungry nymphomaniacs that exist only in masturbation fantasies.   

Some people think the dream whores are so lusty because they are damned souls that are needy for cock.  This has led to speculation that the whores in the dreams must have died there and are now haunting the place.  That is an excellent theory except for the fact that no one ever died there; although old man Jenkins certainly came close to dying once during a session with a top heavy Asian woman.  Local legends have a tendency to ignore facts and new theories pop up every day. 

The best time to go is Halloween.  Your chances of having a whore dream is almost a guarantee.  It gets so popular that you might need to go from room to room to find one that isn’t occupied by a sleeping bag and a horny man.  On Halloween, you might just dream an entire orgy of dream whores and you get to fuck every one of them. 

Some say that people disappear if they spend the night at Halloween. They claim their friends never came back.  That’s just crazy talk.  If someone disappears from this neck of the state, it just means they got fed up with small towns and moved to the big city.  What would dream whores need with live people anyway?

Play With This is a series of articles designed to give you things to play around with in your writing.  Feel free to borrow, modify, or completely change for your own stories.