Fiction: Haunted House of Bondage: The Dining Room

“It is time,” Eleanor Foxglove announced.

Virginia barely heard her. It felt as though all she could hear was the beating of her heart and the shallowness of her breath. The young woman was in something akin to a trance. She had stopped thinking hours ago, and now she only endured sensations and orgasms. She had never been happier. Her complicated career as a lawyer seemed years away. Now, her only responsibility was to be Eleanor’s toy.

In a daze, she slid off Eleanor’s lap and down to the floor. Virginia got on all fours without being told. It felt like the natural thing to do. Eleanor’s black heel was in front of her face so she leaned down and kissed the shoe. She was dimly aware of Eleanor patting her on the head.

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A tug on the leash prompted Virginia to crawl. She followed Eleanor into the hall and was surprised to see Annette and a man waiting for them. Annette was nude and on all fours just like Virginia. Looking at Annette docile and subservient nagged at Virginia. Deep down, she felt as though something was wrong, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

The man interrupted her train of thought. He knelt beside Virginia and her face in his hand. She looked into the deepest blue eyes she had ever seen. They looked into her eyes, and Virginia suspected that maybe they looked into her soul as well. He smiled. She was embarrassed by how happy his smile made her.

“I see the aura has taken over,” the man said.

“Yes, Jonathan,” Eleanor said. “You were right. Prolonged exposure to the artifact has clouded their minds. She’s a perfect slut right now. I doubt we even have to mask our true intentions.”

“We do from Stewart, though,” Jonathan said. “The artifact is stronger against women than it is against men. Since I cast the spell, it will favor men. Stewart still has free will. He can ruin everything if we are not careful.”

Eleanor laughed. “That wimp? Painslut should have him completely dominated by now.”

“You are likely right, my love,” Jonathan said. “Would you like to examine your new body before we go downstairs?”

Eleanor looked at Annette with a predatory smile. “No, thank you, dear. You know how much I like to unwrap my presents in private. I’ll test my new body’s limits once we are through this morning and can bring back the old slaves. Do you think they will return?”

“They won’t be able to help themselves,” Jonathan said. “After years of pleasuring our old, decrepit bodies, they’ll leap at the chance of being slaves to healthy masters.”

Virginia listened to them without really understanding them. When the Foxgloves tugged on their leashes, Virginia and Annette followed them down the stairs. It wasn’t easy to go downstairs on all fours, but it never occurred to Virginia to do anything different.

On the bottom floor, they went into the dining room. Stewart and another woman were already there. Virginia recognized the woman as Painslut from the painting, but she almost didn’t recognize Stewart. He was standing taller, and despite the fact that he was nude, Stewart looked extremely confident and in control of himself. He leered at Virginia’s nude body; that, at least, was familiar .

“Hello, Stewart,” Jonathan said. “Painslut has told me that you are ready for the ritual. You have decided to become master of your own fate.”

“Yes,” Stewart said. He looked down at Annette, and disbelief crossed his face. “Annette is fine with this, too?”

Jonathan growled. “Listen to yourself. You’re still worrying about Annette’s opinion! Be a man and make your own decision. Was Annette worrying about your opinion when she was sucking my cock? Of course not!”

Stewart frowned. “You’re right. I’ll do better. Painslut was right; you do have a lot to teach me.”

Jonathan relaxed. “Of course, my boy, of course. I realize this is difficult to adjust to, but with my guidance, you’ll make it through. But first, we need to make a few preparations. Painslut, I see that Virginia is wearing your collar, but she needs another item of yours to mark her.”

Painslut knelt down beside Virginia and looked at her. “Her tits are very small,” she said with a sigh. “But she can have one of these.”

Virginia watched as Painslut removed on of her diamond nipple studs. Painslut reached for one of Virginia’s nipples, and Virginia cried out at the horrible piercing pain that stabbed her. When Painslut removed her hand, Virginia felt a weight hanging from her chest. She looked down, and inexplicably, the diamond stud was embedded in her nipple! There was no blood, but after the details of tonight’s events, Virginia really couldn’t say she was surprised. It never crossed her mind to protest or refuse the new gift.

“Excellent,” Jonathan said. “Now, Eleanor, you must bind to your host with a personal item.”

“There’s only one thing that would work,” Eleanor said. She reached down and pulled Annette to her feet by her leash and then reached for her black corset and gave it a simple pull. The laces in the back came magically unwrapped, and it was with visible reluctance that she removed it. She ordered Annette to turn around and then Eleanor slipped the corset onto her new body. Annette moaned as the tight corset cling to her curves, and Virginia winced as she saw how constricted Annette’s massive breasts were by the garment’s restraint. With a wave of Eleanor’s hand, the laces tied themselves on the back of the corset. Annette cried out as the air was squeezed from her body. Virginia marveled at the new hourglass figure Annette sported, and at the same time she was horrified at how tight the corset was. It made her magical piercing seemed minor.

“Now, we just need to mark you, Stewart,” Jonathan said. He held up a black hood, and Stewart took it from him. Stewart put it on, and it covered his face completely except for his blue eyes. Virginia was startled by how similar those blue eyes were to Jonathan’s.

“This hood has been with me for decades,” Jonathan said. “I’ve worn it while fucking slaves, and I’ve worn it when summoning demons. I wore it at my wedding, and I wore it when I cast the spell that bound our souls here. There can be no greater connection between us.”

Stewart took a deep breath. “What do we do now?”

“Quick and to the point — I like that about you Stewart,” Jonathan said. “First, we must prepare your wife. Painslut, do the honors.”

Painslut smiled and grabbed Annette roughly by the hair. Annette didn’t even squeal, and once again, Virginia felt that this was somehow wrong. Painslut dragged Annette towards the huge dining table and pulled her on top of it. Annette crawled over the table with a hint of shame or doubt. Painslut gave Annette a harsh slap on her ass that made Eleanor angry.

“Leave my property alone,” Eleanor commanded.

“Yes, Mistress,” Painslut said without contrition. She commanded Annette to lie down on her back and to spread her arms and legs. Painslut removed some chains and shackles from the china cabinet and brought them to Annette’s body. Virginia couldn’t see everything, but it was clear that Painslut was chaining Annette so that her hands and legs were bound to the edges of the table.

It was Virginia’s turn next. Deep down, she knew she should be fighting, but she couldn’t remember why. As Painslut pulled her leash to make her climb onto the table, Virginia saw the curious statue of Eros again. The sight of it calmed her mind and made her eager to obey the commands Painslut gave her. She was placed facedown on top of Annette’s bound body so that her head was by Annette’s thighs and pussy and her sex was right on top of Annette’s face. Painslut chained her ankles and wrists with cold steel. Through the fog that clouded her mind, Virginia was secretly happy that she was in the dominant position in regards to Annette.

“Now lick each other, ladies, and prepare the way,” Jonathan commanded. “Call forth our souls with the attraction of your desire.”

Virginia jumped as she felt Annette’s tongue. The haughty blonde was licking her sex, eagerly and without hesitation. Deep, strong strokes of the tongue made Virginia grind against Annette’s face.

The brunette was compelled to lick, too. She dipped down to the wet sex before her and licked. Virginia tasted semen and didn’t hesitate to lick it as well. She giggled as she realized how well-fucked the formerly prudish Annette must have been. It made Virginia squirm to think of how soon she would be fucked as well.

“Mouth to sex and sex to mouth, the circle of sex is enclosed,” Jonathan intoned. “In this whirlpool of Lust, we invoke the gods of the Underworld to hear us.”

Virginia felt a surge go through her. Annette felt it, too, squirming beautifully under her. Both women licked quickly, trying to hurry and feed something they didn’t understand. Virginia had an orgasm, and her limbs pulled and twisted the chains that held her.

Eleanor floated through the table, her body insubstantial on a whim. Virginia could feel her mistress’s hand touching her ass, patting her sore cheeks and tracing the welts with her fingernails.

Virginia also felt Painslut’s hands on Annette. They phased through the table from underneath, rubbing Annette’s breasts that spilled over the corset. Virginia felt Painslut’s fingers tweaking and pinching Annette’s breasts.

“We must prepare the Magic Wand,” Jonathan intoned.

In front of Virginia, she saw Jonathan remove a silver cup from a shelf. The cup was filled with a white paste. As Jonathan instructed, Stewart took handfuls of the white paste and covered his erection with it. Virginia moaned. Stewart’s erection looked huge and somehow bigger and more important than anything she had ever seen. It was a phallus worthy of a god.

Stewart turned toward the table and climbed on. Virginia trembled as she saw him approach her face. He climbed between Annette’s legs, and Virginia managed to get a lick of his paste-covered sex. The paste tasted like sugar and sweat. When Stewart ignored her mouth and stuck his cock inside Annette’s sex, Virginia nearly cried from the disappointment.

“It begins,” Jonathan said. His calm reserve was cracked by an exuberant excitement.

Stewart fucked his bound wife as Virginia watched from inches away. His cock filled Annette, and each thrust made the blonde squirm and moan under Virginia. The bound brunette added her mouth to the sex, licking Stewart’s cock when it pulled out and licking Annette’s clitoris when Stewart pushed in. The taste of pussy, cock and paste mixed in Virginia’s mouth like a mouth-watering dessert.

Jonathan commanded Stewart to switch, and Stewart pulled out. Virginia moaned as the man climbed between her legs. His hard cock pushed Annette’s mouth out of the way and slid into Virginia. The immensity of his cock amazed Virginia, and even in her dazed mind, she knew it had to be the magic. She didn’t care. It felt too good inside her to analyze it.

Stewart pumped her wet pussy with even, strong strokes. Annette’s mouth moved to Stewart’s balls, and Virginia could hear her wet licking. Eleanor’s hand moved up to Virginia’s face and slipped a finger into Virginia’s mouth. The bound woman eagerly sucked Eleanor’s finger. Virginia craved human contact and wished there were a dozen more people touching her, fucking every inch of her body.

“I feel it,” Eleanor said. “We’re beginning to bond!”

Virginia felt nothing of the sort. All she cared about was that Stewart had pulled out of her pussy and was now fucking Annette’s mouth. Virginia whimpered. Although they were fucking inches away from her sex, Virginia felt intense denial and unfairness. They had to keep fucking her, they just had to! Virginia began to grind against Annette’s chest, trying to keep herself stimulated.

It was while Annette sucked Stewart that Virginia felt the change. Something crept into her mind, altering the eager complacency she had been experiencing. Virginia still felt the need to climax, and she still had the desire to please her masters, but she also felt a surge of rebellion. She felt that insatiable desire to push her limits, to test the constraints placed on her and to never make it easy for others. Virginia still had all of her submissive urges, but underneath it all was that small piece of defiance that defined Painslut in everything she did.

Stewart moved back towards Virginia’s face, and Virginia could see the change over him. He confidently grabbed her hair and pulled her mouth onto his cock. Virginia swallowed down his erection, tasting both her sex and Annette’s mouth. He pushed deep down her throat, thrusting his hips against her trapped head. Annette resumed licking Virginia’s sex, this time attacking her pussy with a vigor that sent Virginia into raptures. Even with the rebellious spark inside her, Virginia couldn’t deny the bliss she felt at pleasing her masters.

“It is almost complete!” Jonathan cried. Unlike the others, he had remained away from the sex on the table. He just sat by the statue of Eros and watched.

Virginia’s eyes bulged as she realized where the “artifact” was. It had to be the statue! Her earlier haze of sensual compliance was long gone, replaced by the undefeatable mischievousness of Painslut. She was able to recall everything Jonathan and Eleanor had said earlier along with the sinister implications of their discussion.

Stewart had pulled out of Virginia’s mouth and slid back into Annette’s sex. Virginia felt a surge of electricity go through the three of them. She had a climax, and she almost blacked out from the bliss. The steady rhythm of Annette’s body moving beneath her brought back out of her stupor, and she tried to warn Stewart.

“Stewart! Snap out of it!” Virginia cried. She couldn’t tear her eyes off his cock entering Annette’s pussy. “They’ve been lying to us! What they really —”

“Hush, you little slut!” Eleanor said. Her hand clamped over Virginia’s mouth and gagged her. “Ignore her and keep fucking, Stewart! When we are done, you can teach your new slave how to keep her mouth busy.”

Stewart kept pumping. Virginia tried to study his face to see if he’d gotten her message, but the hood made it impossible. All she could see were his deep blues, and they looked more intense than ever. Virginia knew their very souls were in danger, yet she was still too far in their grasp to worry much. As the spirit of Painslut filled her body, she hoped that when Stewart finally ejaculated, it would somehow be in her.

“Now go to the other side, Stewart, and the spell will be complete!” Jonathan cried. He was barely visible. None of the dead were. Virginia couldn’t even see the hand that kept her mouth shut, and she somehow knew that Painslut was just as invisible. The ghosts were losing their forms as they merged with their new bodies.

Virginia felt her memories slipping away and being replaced with new ones. She could no longer remember her old boyfriend, only the memory of Master Jonathan’s ancient body rutting on top of her. She couldn’t recall her sometime-girlfriend in college, only the memory of Mistress Eleanor’s hand on her ass. She couldn’t even remember her office or her home. It felt as though the only true home she ever had was the cage in Painslut’s room.

Stewart slipped out of Annette’s sex and almost casually tapped his wet cock against her cheek. Virginia looked up at him, annoyed, humiliated and aroused at the same time. She never expected to see those blue eyes wink.

The hooded man started to crawl on the table top towards the other side. Annette was humping Virginia’s body in anticipation. Virginia ignored her. She watched as Stewart slowly crawled along the length of the table until he was near the ancient statue of Eros. Stewart lashed out with his leg and kicked the statue off the table. Virginia watched it sail off the table edge and disappear.

The resulting crash of noise echoed through the dining room. Jonathan and Eleanor screamed with anger and rage, while Painslut merely giggled. Stewart whipped off his hood as the ghosts wailed. Jonathan lunged for Stewart’s throat but vanished before he could reach him.

A cold wind blew through the house, bursting windows and sending doors flying.

“Stewart, you useless son of a bitch!” Annette screamed. “Why the hell did you do that?”

“Annette, shut up,” Stewart said wearily. “Ms. Hershey, are you okay?”

“Yes,” Virginia said. “Could you untie me?”

“Fuck her!” Annette said. “Stewart, answer me! Why did you fuck everything up?”

He didn’t answer. He took the hood in his hand and crammed it into Annette’s mouth. Her eyes bulged in disbelief. She tried to push out the hood, but Stewart had learned a thing or two about gags tonight. The hood wasn’t going anywhere.

“Are you OK?” Virginia asked. When he nodded, Stewart remembered her request to be untied.

“Oh, of course,” he said. Some of his former timidity came back. He found some keys in the cabinet and began to unlock Virginia. He didn’t bother with Annette. Surprisingly, the blonde didn’t ask.

“They were trying to take over our bodies,” Virginia said.

“Really?” Stewart said. “Painslut said they just wanted to ride in the back of our minds.”

“They were lying,” Virginia said. She rubbed her wrists and climbed off Annette. The exhausted woman didn’t have the strength to climb off the table just yet. Her sex felt empty, and she was tempted to masturbate. “They wanted to take us over completely. If you didn’t know that, why did you break the statue?”

Stewart sighed. “I’ve put up with Annette’s abuse for years. I do it because I thought it makes her happy. I do what she says, and I obey every whim because I always hoped that one day, she would be satisfied and not be such a bitch.”

Stewart paused and looked at Virginia’s naked body. Virginia found herself looking at his cock. The ghosts were gone, but the sexual energy still lingered in the air. Stewart shook his head and tried to continue.

“What Jonathan offered was to take Annette’s place,” he said. “He wanted me to obey his ‘suggestions.’ I couldn’t imagine having someone in the back of my mind, always telling me what to do. Jesus! At least Annette can’t harass me - 24 hours a day! Why would I submit myself to that?”

Virginia nodded. She wasn’t really paying attention. That need for pleasure still dwelt deep down inside her. Stewart was thinking the same thing. Without any prompting or words, the two of them began to kiss.

Annette squirmed with indignation, but the gag silenced her. Virginia leaned back until she was draped across the bound blonde’s body. Stewart crawled over her. She welcomed him as he slid into her. Both of them whimpered. They were so sensitized from their ordeal that the simple joy of fucking was a powerful release.

The two of them fucked loudly on the table. Virginia was surprised by the passion in her grunts as Stewart filled her. She locked her arms and legs around him, pinning him tightly inside her body. Her newly pierced nipple ached from the pressure of his chest, but there was no way she was going to let him go. He was real, and he was alive. He didn’t want her soul or her eternal submission. He just wanted the same thing she did, to get fucked and feel alive.

Stewart came first, but they kept fucking. Even when Virginia came, they kept fucking. It felt good to merge with something warm and breathing. An hour later, when neither of them could move with much more conviction, they finally pulled apart.

“Its sunrise,” Stewart said. The sun was peeking through the dark drapes of the dining room.

“I officially declare the house yours,” Virginia groaned. “And you can keep the damn thing.”

She fumbled with her collar and managed to unlock the clasp.

“Keep it,” Stewart said. “You’ve certainly earned it.”

That made her smile. “I did. What are you going to do about her?”

Stewart stood up, and Virginia saw that he no longer stooped as he had yesterday. He walked over to his wife and petted her cheek. Beneath her gag, Annette growled.

“Annette and I are going to have a long talk today,” he said. “She hasn’t been happy, and neither have I. I have a few ideas on how we can improve. The elder Foxgloves may have been assholes, but they apparently got through to my wife. I’m not too proud to admit that I would like to try some of their methods. Annette will hear me out and then I’ll release her and get her answer.”

“Good luck,” Virginia said. She meant it.

“Come by some time, and I’ll tell you how it went,” Stewart said.

Virginia thought about it.

“I might,” she said.

It wasn’t long before she returned to the haunted house of bondage.

The end.

An October Wish

She belongs on her knees.

She opens her legs at a word.

Her face leans into the slap.

Her nipples ache for the pinch.

She takes a cock with a moan.

She gets her glory in a shower of cum.

Suicide Girls Burlesque Show

So Saturday night I went to see the Suicide Girls Burlesque show in Atlanta. It was roller coaster of experiences so let me try to catalog them for you.

It's a long recount, so click Whole Post to read it all

The ticket said the show started at 9. At 9 there was the opening act of three adorable Japanese girls who knew very little English but damn could they rock. They rocked, and they rocked and I never knew what the fuck they were singing, but the music just drew you in. Music is the international language. Or was that love?

Around 10 o’clock, the Japanese girls left and this very Goth girl came out in the black and white version of Alice in Wonderland’s costume. All right! These must be a Suicide Girl! I actually got excited that she would be naked soon.

Alas she did not. She was the lead singer of a band called Lennon. They were like Evanescence except . . . umm… they were nowhere as good. And they played for an hour. In fact, I tuned them out so much that I conceived my next story from start to finish.

I will say this though about Lennon. There was a guitar player wearing Fairy wings who just stood there and played his guitar and blended into the band. But when lead singer girl came by he would do this lean into her touch. It caught my eye the first time it happened and it got my wife all excited.

She whispered to me, “That’s her sub.”

It was pretty hard to deny. He would rock out in his own little world but when she got near; his head would dip down towards. I’m a heterosexual male and I thought his submission to her was the hottest damn thing I’ve seen in awhile. It’s very hard to explain, and I suspect it would take me an entire story to do it justice, but it felt like he existed for her.

I will say something else about Lennon. The crowd was unhappy. The crowd wanted to see naked Goth girls and they were quite vocal about how Lennon was killing their buzz. I’ve never seen a band get heckled before and Lennon took it in stride. They got steel ovaries, I’ll give them that.

So the Suicide Girls are next right? Nope. We then had to sit through a Halloween costume contest. At this point I think the Suicide Girls are a myth, something only seen by people drinking too much beer and staggering while sitting. Yes, those were the guys in front of me.

To my surprise the Suicide Girls do come out. A group of eight girls come out in scanty clothes and dance. My second surprise was that they could dance. It looked like it was well worth the wait.

Well the opening dance routine comes to a screeching stop as one cute blonde laid down the RULES! No cameras, no camera phones, no crossing the stage barrier, and absolutely no freaking touching of a Suicide Girl. It was a cold shower that made me feel every one of my thirty-three years of age. These were common sense rules anyone could figure out but it had to be spelled out for the crowd. I understand these rules were important but it was so jarring that it took me out of all my excitement. I felt like I had just sat through a legal disclaimer.

The fact finally started up in full force and two and a half hours of waiting finally bore some fruit. I have to say, I was really impressed. Stripping is one of those things that fascinated me when I was young but lost its impact on me as I got older. It’s an inevitable removing of clothes. Women get naked. The point is not the nudity, it’s how you get there. The Suicide Girls understand this and did quite a few tricks that made me realize how much art was involved.

One trick I noticed was characters. Women came out dressed as someone or something. One of my favorites was when four flight attendants came out and used every attendant prop you can imagine. It was a grungy stage filled girls I saw naked three minutes ago, but the use of costumes and characters made me think what an awesome airline this would be to fly. Just like in short stories, clichés became shorthand that puts the reader/audience in a familiar situation and then they work from there.

Related to that was parody. In erotica, I see a lot of parody of established movies and television. I was just surprised to see it in stripping. They did an erotic version of torture scene in Reservoir Dogs as well as a sexy version of Napoleon Dynamite’s dance. In Internet porn, such parody is often considered the gutter of erotic writing so it really jolted me to see it on stage. And well done parody at that.

Another trick I noticed was misdirection which is something I never thought of in stripping. My favorite moments were when a dancer distracted the audience with a hula hoop, a beer bottle or a kicking leg and BLAM, off went a shirt when you weren’t paying attention. I lived for those moments. It was far more exciting to me than when a dancer would tease an article of clothing off. Teasing has it’s place, but misdirection followed by stripping kept the entire act very kinetic. You felt like anything could happen.

One thing that fascinated me was the crowd. The crowd screamed for joy every single time a Suicide Girl lost her bra. All nipples were covered with tape, and to me only two of the girls had natural breasts, but the crowd lost their damn mind every time they saw breasts. I just didn’t get it. They cycled through the same girls over and over, so it wasn’t like these were brand new tits they were seeing. To me the tits were the least of the show but to the crowd, it’s like it was all they lived for.

I have to take a moment to talk about my favorite girl whose name I never caught. She could fucking dance. While most of the girls were too uncomfortably thin, this gal had muscles rippling on her body. She could contort, which was always a crowd favorite, and her ankles just belonged next to her ear, but what really made me lust for her was her speed. She could shake her hips so fast they became a blur. She could kick her leg out like a damn switchblade. Later she performed with a hula hoop and made that fucking hoop spin. She was sexy not because of what she revealed, but because she was showing us what her body could do. It was a celebration of movement.

So all in all I am very glad I went. It was inspiring. It was a bit frustrating to sit through so multiple opening acts but it was worth it to watch a leg move faster than my eye could follow.

Fiction: My Happiest Halloween

I don’t have any happy Halloween memories from childhood. My stepfather was something of a control freak, and he liked to keep the family terrified with stories of kidnappers, molesters and other monsters. After listening to these stories all year round, the idea of going outside and actually knocking on strangers’ doors seemed like suicide. I walked around the block with my mother and braved a dozen houses before asking to go back home. My mother, who saw Halloween as yet another chore, was happy to have it over with so soon. My half-brother liked Halloween more because it was an excuse to dress up like the monster he was.

For me, Halloween didn’t become special until Liz and Rob moved in next door. Rob was a Marine, and Liz was his hot stay-at-home wife. My stepfather instantly hated Rob, whom he called “a dumb-ass jarhead” while my mom took up hating Liz because the 20-something woman was “trailer-park trash.” Have I mentioned that my parents were assholes?

I was 15 when they moved in, and that first Halloween, Liz dressed up as a genie to hand out candy. I was too old to go trick-or-treating, but my half-brother visited her house on his trip. My mom ranted for an hour about Liz’s exposed belly button and how she was corrupting the minds of the young. I liked that idea. Anything my mom hated so much must have been naughty and fun.

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The next Halloween was much better. It had been a year of mixed blessings. My stepfather was rarely home because of his job — although we would find out later it was really because of a waitress at Applebee’s. My mother’s sister had moved back into town, and to compete with her, my mom spent more time out of the house trying to play in my aunt’s social circles. Yes, my happiest year was when my parents were too busy to be with me.

Best of all, Liz’s husband was away in Saudi Arabia for six months, and Liz always needed something done at her house. My mom wouldn’t let my stepfather go over there, so it was always I who went over and moved a table or mowed her lawn. I was a socially inept teenager, so mowing a woman’s lawn was the closest I got to dating. Liz wore this white bikini in the summertime that contrasted with her kinky black hair and fueled my masturbation fantasies for months. We never really talked much. I think she knew that I was always on the clock and that my mom was just waiting for a reason to ban my coming over as well.

That Halloween, my mother took my brother to my aunt’s house. My aunt was having a huge party, and my mom wanted to make sure she helped out so she could hold it against my aunt. I wanted to go, but since Liz was handing out treats that year, my mom wanted to make sure our house did, too. My mom had a lot of grudges then. I can’t remember what my stepfather’s excuse was for not being there that night, but it didn’t really matter. He was gone so often at that point that I was forgetting to be afraid of the world.

The first time kids came to the door, I lingered on the steps to see what Liz had dressed as. She came to greet the kids and I couldn’t help staring. She was wearing a wispy long black dress and a witch’s pointed hat. Even from across the yard, I could see that her cleavage was threatening to spill out of the dress. When she bent over to drop candy in a bag, the dress seemed to shrink around her round ass. Damn, I wished I were a kid again.

Liz caught me staring and waved at me. After waving back, I ran back inside. I was 16 and under the impression that women could read the dirty thoughts in my head. My pants were uncomfortably tight, and I debated masturbating right then. In the end, I decided to wait. I wanted to see more of Liz and get a better mental picture. I had my sex life all thought out back then.

A few minutes later, the phone rang.

“Hey, you,” Liz said. “You didn’t dress up for Halloween.”

I didn’t have a witty response. I think I might have said something about forgetting to get one. Funny how I can think of a million flirty remarks to answer that question now.

“I was wondering if you could come over and help me out for a few minutes,” she said. “I promise it won’t take ten minutes.”

“Sure,” I said. Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God. This was a wish come true. Now I could see her sexy costume close up and masturbate about it later with better details! When I was a teen, I tended to aim low with my wildest fantasies.

I was over at Liz’s in less than a minute. My mom would have been pissed to know I was deserting my post, but that just added to the excitement. Liz greeted me at the door, and she was more stunning up close. She had silver spider barrettes in her long black hair and a temporary spider tattoo over the top of one breast. Fake fingernails stretched from her fingertips like knives. Her dress was so tight that I could see the outline of her nipples, and at that age, I thought of nipples as the most secret, intimate part of a woman. She wore black lipstick that made her look sinister and so damn sexy at the same time. Liz was evil and forbidden. I felt corrupted already.

I was actually smart enough to say “trick or treat.” She laughed and gave me a Hershey’s kiss before letting me in. As soon as I stepped in, I saw something that chilled my heart. Her house was filled with cardboard boxes, and almost everything was packed away.

“Are you moving?” I asked. There was a lump in my throat, and I realized then that it wasn’t just an expression.

“November 2,” Liz said. “Rob is being transferred to Washington. It’s where he grew up, so we’re pretty happy about it.”

“That’s nice,” I said. That was all I could manage to say.

“It will be for you,” Liz said. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

I felt my face heat up as I blushed. “No,” I said. There was a bitterness in my voice that surprised me. It was a cruel question. I was the tallest, thinnest kid in school with the glasses to match. Making friends of my own gender was hard enough much less a girlfriend.

“Good,” she said. She took me by the shoulders and pushed me down into the recliner. “I would feel really guilty if you did.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

That was when she knelt between my legs.

“Oh, my God,” I said. Yeah, I was real smooth back then.

She laughed, but it was a nice laugh. She unzipped my pants, and I was quick to help her pull off my jeans. The sexy witch rubbed my erection through my underwear, looking at me all the while. Despite the way she was touching me, what really fascinated me was that only her dress was separating her breasts from my thighs.

“Don’t say anything, OK?” Liz said. She took off her hat and set it on the floor.

I nodded. Sure. Anything she wanted.

Liz unrolled my underwear and unveiled my erection. She lifted my cock and slowly stroked it. With her other hand, she gently scratched my balls with her fake nails. My cock had never felt so large and hot before. I leaned forward and watched her, fascinated and bewitched.

She dipped her head and I moaned before her tongue touched me. One long, wonderful swipe of her tongue licked me from base to tip. Another swipe of her tongue went across my girth. Liz’s black lips then puckered and kissed my cock before opening to swallow it down. My hands gripped the arms of the chair as her mouth engulfed my entire cock.

I had no idea that a blowjob was so wet, hot, slippery and fantastic. Her long black hair was on my thighs, and I loved the way it would pull against my skin as her head moved. Her eyes looked up at me, and I basked in the attention they gave me. Her black lipstick was coloring my cock, leaving the mark of her lips as she bobbed up and down.

Just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, she pried my hand from the death grip I had on the arm of the chair. Still sucking me, she reached into her dress and pulled out a single breast . I trembled as she guided my hand to her breast and I sighed when she pressed my fingers into it.

She didn’t need to guide my hand after that. I fondled her. The softness of her breast amazed me, as did how hard the nipple became. I had just enough knowledge of women to know that a hard nipple was a sign of arousal, and I clung to that hard nipple as proof of what was happening. My fingers squeezed and massaged her breast with a sort of reverence. I couldn’t believe I was actually touching a woman’s breast. My fingers wanted to touch every part of her so that I would never forget what it felt like.

I felt my orgasm approaching, and I kept very quiet. Deep down, I still didn’t believe this was happening, and I kept waiting for Liz to stop. My climax was like being hit by lightning, but I didn’t make a single sound. Her eyes flickered up at me, and I could see her smiling as I emptied myself into her. It felt like I was ejaculating an ocean into her mouth, but she swallowed it all without a single hesitation. In fact, her fingers gently squeezed my cock until every ounce of cum was gone.

When I was done, she gently pulled my hand off her breast. There were red marks on her white skin, and I felt embarrassed. Liz didn’t mind. She pushed her breast back into her dress without comment. I pulled my jeans back on and handed her back her hat.

“Why?” I said. My voice was little more than a whisper at that point.

“Why not?” Liz said. The bewilderment on my face made her smile.

“Look, you have a fucked-up family. Your dad is a gigolo, your mom doesn’t even have her own personality and your brother is a brat. You’re the only one of that family worth knowing. If you have to have a reason, just remember that you got a blowjob from your neighbor because she thought you were a nice guy. Deal?”

I nodded. There was that damned lump again.

“Good, now get home before your mom accuses me of cradle-robbing.”

Liz moved out two days later. My cock had traces of black lipstick for days, and I was sad when they were all gone. I wrote a lot of bad poetry all about the virtues of older woman and blowjobs. It was a week of heavenly optimism until Susan Vickers in English class made a joke about a pimple I was suffering. I had to admit that her insults didn’t hurt as much as they used to.

My parents got divorced a year later but only after dragging us through hell first. My stepfather moved in with his waitress, and I never saw him again. My mother married someone who was an exact copy of her last husband. As for my brother, he was still a brat.

I married a girl who looked a lot like Susan Vickers but with a better sense of humor. My wife was an outcast from her family like me, and it was something we bonded over. I turned Halloween into the biggest holiday of the year. We dressed up in all types of costumes from sexy to just plain weird. It was the one time of the year we celebrated how diverse my wife and I were from other people.

Late one sweaty Halloween, when her mermaid outfit was in shreds, my wife looked in my eyes and asked the big question.

“With your lousy parents, where did you learn how to make Halloween so much fun?”

“One spooky Halloween, I got corrupted by this witch …”

Fiction: Haunted House of Bondage: The Secret Room

The dead woman sucked Stewart’s balls. Her lips were cold, but her mouth was so very hot. The bound man moaned when her cheek rubbed against his erection. The metal ring she had slipped around his cock prevented his ejaculation, and this was causing him to be far more sensitive then he could have ever imagined. He could barely stand the slightest touches, but his tormentor delighted in running her tongue all over him.

“Quit your whimpering,” she said. “I’ve endured far worse every day for the past six years. Be a man and enjoy it.”

Her voice was barely a whisper, and it seemed to come from over Stewart’s shoulder. That didn’t freak him out as much as it should have. He found himself becoming more and more analytical as the supernatural occurrence sucked him. No matter how hard he tried, though, he couldn’t reason her out of existence.

“Who are you, really?” he asked.

She popped his balls out of her mouth and looked up at him.

“I’m exactly who you think I am,” she said. “I’m Painslut, the slave of the former owners of Foxglove Manor.”

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He leapt to an unlikely conclusion. “Did you fake your death? Everyone thought you died in the car crash along with the Foxgloves. Did you get rid of them?”

Painslut laughed. She stroked his cock with hard, vigorous pulls that made his eyes roll and his toes curl. With a gentle slap of his balls, she stood up and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Her face was so close to his that he was tempted to kiss her, but the mocking smile she wore discouraged him.

“There was no faking my death,” she whispered. “I drove the car straight off the road and into the ravine. Do you have any idea how hard it was to commit suicide like that? Do you have any idea how great an act of submission that was to my masters? I killed my owners and myself on their command. How many slaves can claim that?”

Stewart swallowed. She smelled like sex. The bad kind. Her eyes were brown, but there were also flecks of red. He could feel her breasts pressing against his bare chest, and her diamond nipple studs scratched him.

“Are you back for revenge?” he asked. “Are you haunting the house to get back at them?”

Painslut smirked. “You are an idiot,” she said. “I’m back because my masters still need me. I live to serve.”

She hooked a leg around him, and Stewart moaned as her sex pressed against his cock. Her hips moved, and she ground against him. His cock was trapped between their bodies and he knew if it weren’t for the ring, he would have exploded and sprayed both of them.

“I also live to fuck,” she said. “Would you like to fuck me, Stewart?”

“Yes,” he said. “But my wife might find us.”

“Your wife is busy,” Painslut said. “And so is that delicious lawyer. It’s just you and me, Stewart. We can fuck for hours if you like, and they will never find out.”

“What is Annette doing?” he asked.

Painslut removed her leg and grabbed his cock firmly. Stewart moaned as she increased the pressure, and tears welled up in his eyes. When Painslut ran her free hand over his cheek, he cried out involuntarily.

“Listen, Stewart,” Painslut said. “Forget about your wife. Your wife is getting fucked. She’s getting fucked hard. Right now, your wife is doing things she would never do with you. She’s saying things that you’ve only dreamed about. At this very moment, your cold, nasty bitch wife is begging to have a cock inside her. Don’t you think you deserve to get fucked, too?”

“Yes,” Stewart said. Painslut released her grip on his cock, and he gasped in relief. She picked up his leash and wound it tightly in her hand. The pale woman looked up at his bound hands, and he felt the handcuffs unlock on their own. He groaned as he let his arms drop, and he massaged them as the blood flowed back into them. He didn’t even try to escape from the beautiful nude woman who haunted him.

“I know just the place you need to go, Stewart,” she said. “Follow me.”

He did as she said. He felt a little ridiculous. He was a grown man being led around on a leash, but he was glad that at least he was allowed to walk instead of crawl this time. They passed by the marble statues, but they didn’t come to life . He thought about asking Painslut about them but decided against it. He didn’t want to find out that she didn’t know what he was talking about.

They walked around to the other side of the stairs, and Painslut felt along the wall of the staircase. Stewart jumped as a section of the staircase opened inward. His captor reached inside and turned on a light. With a mocking smile, Painslut tugged on the leash and led the way inside the secret room.

The room was cramped, and the light barely illuminated the place. It was contained solely inside the staircase and was very claustrophobic. A slanting bed was tucked against the back wall and several chains dangled from its posts. Mounted into the diagonal ceiling was a television screen that faced the bed.

Painslut pushed Stewart against the bed. It was a waterbed. The welts on his ass flared when they came in contact with the bed, but he endured. She chained his wrists and ankles to the four posts, but he didn’t mind. The waterbed was infinitely more comfortable than hanging in the gaming room. The angle of the bed reminded him of a rack or a mad scientist’s table but he quickly dismissed those thoughts. Painslut might be dead and kinky, but he didn’t think she was crazy.

She leaned against him on the bed and turned out the lights. They were plunged into darkness with only the faint blue glow of the television screen to illuminate them. Stewart was painfully aware of Painslut’s full breasts pressing into his chest. He also couldn’t ignore how her leg was lying on his thigh so wonderfully close to his throbbing erection.

She rested her head against his bound arm and leaned into his shoulder. He felt her teeth bite down and despite how hard she bit, Stewart couldn’t help getting turned on. Painslut bit his shoulder and sucked to the point that he began to wonder if maybe she was a vampire of some sort. She never did draw blood, but she did leave a hickey.

“Just wanted to mark you,” she said before settling back down. Her hand went to his cock and stroked it softly. The metal band still bound him cruelly. All he could do was moan as she masturbated him so close to an orgasm he wasn’t able to have.

“What shall we watch first?” she asked. She picked up a remote and made a selection. The screen changed, and what Stewart saw made him almost forget about ejaculating.

Displayed on the screen in full color was Ms. Hershey. Wearing only black gloves and something sparkling around her neck, she was naked and hanging from some sort of rope contraption. He saw that she was covered in various colors that had splattered all over her body. The only parts of her that weren’t covered in color were her face and her beautiful simple brown hair that was parted down the middle.

“You thought you had her earlier, but it was just me,” Painslut whispered. Stewart nodded and felt an ache inside him. He still wanted the young lawyer. He wanted her to want him, and it hurt him more than he would have imagined when he realized that he hadn’t shared an erotic encounter with her earlier. Yes, Painslut was busty, young and vivacious, but she was too alien in comparison to Ms. Hershey. Painslut wanted him because she was kinky, but Ms. Hershey would want him because she liked him.

There was no time for Stewart to become more melancholy. A blonde walked into the view and took Stewart’s breath away. At first, he thought the woman might be his wife but her ponytail was too long, and the tight black corset she wore was something Annette could never squeeze into. Somehow he knew who it must be — the former mistress of the Manor, Eleanor Foxglove.

“Like her?” Painslut asked. “Of course, you do. Mistress Eleanor is a goddess to all men and women. Ms. Hershey knows this personally.”

Stewart could see that. Ms. Hershey was hanging upside down, and Eleanor was standing behind her with both hands on the lawyer’s open thighs. The sleek blonde looked directly at the camera and smiled before dipping her mouth down to Ms. Hershey’s color-stained sex.

“Oh, fuck,” Stewart moaned. “Can she see us?”

“Yes and no,” Painslut said. “The cameras are hidden and totally soundless. Ms. Hershey doesn’t know we’re watching, but Mistress Eleanor is dead and can look right at us. That is one of the perks of being a ghost.”

Stewart nodded dumbly and watched. Eleanor was eating out the lawyer with the same relish he would have applied to the task. Considering how much Ms. Hershey twisted in her ropes, Stewart knew she was enjoying it. No, she was loving it. He couldn’t tear his eyes off the young brunette’s face. There was no denying the naked lust in her mouth and eyes. She wanted it, and after years of a near-sexless marriage, Stewart couldn’t believe how much she enjoyed it. He had forgotten how sexy a woman in lust could be.

Painslut moved her head and kissed his nipples. She was still pumping his cock, but all Stewart felt was her mouth. When her tongue played with his nipple, he imagined the way Eleanor’s tongue was dancing inside Ms. Hershey. He wondered if Eleanor’s tongue flickered as fast as Painslut’s. He wondered if Ms. Hershey would moan and writhe if it was his tongue there instead. Painslut’s teeth bit down on his nipple, and he cried out as the sharp teeth left another hickey.

“No one can hear us,” she said. “This room is totally soundproof. The masters liked to use it when they wanted some private torment time with a slave.”

Her voice was no longer a whisper. It was a normal volume now, and Stewart could hear the huskiness of her voice. He liked it.

On the television screen, Eleanor was moving away from Ms. Hershey’s pussy. Stewart saw how wet the blonde’s mouth was, and he throbbed in Painslut’s hand. Ms. Hershey was talking, but there was no audio for him to hear. One thing was clear: Ms. Hershey was begging, begging with all her heart and wiles. She must be having the same problem with getting a climax that Stewart was. This little thing they had in common just made him want her more.

Eleanor untied the ropes and grabbed Ms. Hershey by the hair. She dragged the young woman by the hair, and Ms. Hershey happily crawled on the floor behind her. Painslut laughed at the sight of the crawling woman. They both watched as Eleanor led her out of the room, and Painslut started flipping channels to find where they had gone to.

Painslut found them in a dark room filled with benches and paddles. Stewart moaned as Eleanor sat down and pulled Ms. Hershey across her lap. The blonde twisted the brunette’s arm against her back, pinning the squirming lawyer. The brunette’s ass was so round and tight that Stewart started to pump his hips without thinking.

“You like that, don’t you?” Painslut said. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want to spank her,” Stewart said.

“You want her across your lap and your hand on her ass, don’t you?” Painslut said.

“Yes,” Stewart admitted.

Eleanor spanked Ms. Hershey, and Stewart thought he might have climaxed. He didn’t. He watched every slap of Ms. Hershey’s ass, and he wished the camera could give them sound. For now, he had to settle for just the sight of the brunette’s cheeks jiggling with every slap.

“I know how you feel,” Painslut said. She moved down to his crotch and settled between his legs. Stewart cried out as she went down on him. His restrained cock was embraced in heat, spit and a fast tongue. He could have climaxed right there if it weren’t for that damn metal band. He could have done it twice, three times. Instead, he could only endure the sensation of being sucked.

“You could spank her, I know you could,” Painslut said. She slapped his cock against her cheek as she talked. It was such a decadent, naughty thing to be doing; Stewart had the hardest time paying attention to what she was saying.

“Imagine Ms. Hershey across your lap,” Painslut said. “Imagine being naked and having her squirming body against your hard cock. You would spank her hard, I know you would. You’d tan her ass till she was nothing but welts. Her ass would grow so warm, almost as hot as your cock is against my cheek now. Do you know what the best part would be, Stewart? She would get wet. Oh, yes, she would soak your leg with how wet she would become. No matter how much you spanked her, she would beg you to fuck her. Imagine that Stewart, young Ms. Hershey begging for your cock.”

“Oh, God,” he moaned. He could imagine it. The heat of her ass, the squirming of her nubile body and best of all, that sweet voice begging him to do what he has been wanting to do all night. Stewart was almost shaking with how much he wanted it.

“Let’s see what your wife is doing,” Painslut said.

The channel changed, and once again, Stewart’s breath was taken away. Lying on a messy bed was his wife, nude and with her hands between her legs! She was masturbating, fast and furious, with both hands. Stewart watched his wife’s face with disbelief. Her eyes were shut tight, but her mouth was talking, whispering God only knew what.

Then he saw the man. He heard Painslut sigh as the handsome man stepped into view. He was tall, very muscular and as nude as Stewart’s wife. Stewart felt a terrible inadequacy that only deepened when the man sat down beside Annette’s head. To Stewart’s disbelief, Annette leaned over and opened her mouth! The man slipped his hard cock inside Annette’s mouth while the blonde continued to masturbate.

“How … how?” Stewart whispered.

“Master Jonathan knows how to treat a woman,” Painslut said. “He knows how to please them. He knows how to get them to do things they have never dreamed of, and most of all, he knows how to get them to love it.”

“He’s Jonathan?” Stewart asked. “He died, too! And shouldn’t he be older?”

“I know you’re in shock, Stewart, but focus here,” Painslut said. She took his cock and rubbed her fingers over his tip. When Stewart shuddered and looked at her, she continued.

“Jonathan Foxglove knows women,” Painslut said. “There is no secret he can’t tease out of your wife, no depravity he can’t talk her into. Your wife is putty in the hands of a real man.”

“No!” Stewart moaned. For some reason, this betrayal hurt him more than he would have guessed. Perhaps it was the idea that Annette could have been like this with him if he’d only known how to bring it out. He thought about the wasted years of bending to every wish of his wife in the hopes of getting what he was watching now.

On the screen, Annette was deepthroating Jonathan. Up and down her head bobbed. Her fingers were still busy, and Stewart knew she was coming. There, she’d just come. Annette was still shuddering as she kept sucking her lover’s cock.

“Relax, Stewart,” Painslut said. There was something new in her voice; it was sympathy. “My master has plans for all of us. You’ll have your wife back soon, and much improved, I must add. This is the whole reason we all died.”

“You died so Jonathan could fuck my wife?” Stewart asked.

Painslut bit his belly. “No, Stewart. My master and mistress were old, very, very old, and were going to die soon anyway of natural causes. They came up with a plan. They were willing to lose their mortal bodies in exchange for new ones. Master Jonathan acquired a powerful artifact and cast a spell that anchored our souls to it. After a full night of staying here and by performing a ritual, you, Annette and Ms. Hershey will allow our souls into your bodies.”

“You’re going to possess us?” Stewart asked. For once, he forgot about his cock.

“No, nothing like that,” Painslut said. “We’ll be sharing your bodies. For us, it’ll be the chance to continue to feel pleasure and experience new entertainments. In exchange, we’ll be imparting our knowledge and giving advice. Annette will have the sexual freedom and kinkiness of Mistress Eleanor. Ms. Hershey will have my sense of duty and exploration. You, you’ll inherit the wisdom of Master Jonathan.”

“Imagine it, Stewart. You’ll have all of Master Jonathan’s skills with women. You can make a slave of your wife. You can make a slave of Ms. Hershey. With all the money you gained and Master Jonathan’s connections, you can fill the house with slaves. With Master Jonathan’s guidance, you’ll have a cellar full of sluts, a manor full of servants and an obedient wife who will suck your cock and like it.”

Stewart looked up at the television screen. Annette’s cheeks were bulging from Jonathan’s cock. She had stopped masturbating and was now clutching her lover’s thighs and ass. Stewart couldn’t believe how much she was clinging to Jonathan. Her hands were grabbing his ass and pinning him to her face. As angry as he was with his wife’s infidelity, he was also impatient to experience this side of Annette for himself.

Painslut turned around and leaned back into Stewart. She guided his cock into her pussy, and he cried out at the tightness that engulfed him. Fully impaled, Painslut leaned back until she was lying on his chest. One hand reached back and caressed Stewart’s face while the other held onto the remote.

“Like that, Stewart?” Painslut purred. She clenched him and he shuddered.

“Oh yes,” he managed to say.

Painslut began to move. Her back undulated against him as she fucked him. Slow, sensuous twists of her hips pulled Stewart’s cock into a hypnotic rhythm. He could feel her tight ass on his round belly as it clenched with each thrust. The metal band continued to restrain his orgasm, and Stewart felt like his cock was on fire. Every squeeze, every twist and every push felt like a miniature orgasm to the bound man.

“Let me come,” he begged.

“Not yet,” Painslut said. A fresh scent came to him, as if a door had been opened. It was jasmine, and it took Stewart a moment to realize it was coming from the black hair of his tormentor. He took a deep breath and imagined that he could smell the dungeons and whips that Painslut had seen.

“Let’s see what Mistress Eleanor is up to,” Painslut said. As she kept fucking Stewart, she changed the channel. Angered at her ignoring him, Stewart impulsively bit Painslut on the neck.

“Oh! I knew you had it in you, Stewart!” she moaned.

The screen changed to show Ms. Hershey still over Eleanor’s lap. Her buttocks were an impossibly bright red, and there were several stripes down her thighs as well. Eleanor had a riding crop in her hand, but she had reversed it so that its handle was inside Ms. Hershey’s sex. Ms. Hershey didn’t appear to mind. The lawyer was thrusting back into the handle, trying to get more of the crop inside her than Eleanor was willing to give. Her mouth was saying something, and her eyes were shut tight, but Stewart knew what she was saying. Ms. Hershey wanted to come.

“Why won’t you let us come?” he asked.

Painslut stopped fucking him for a second before resuming. “No reason,” she said, and even Stewart knew she was lying. “I just like to tease you till I’m ready to let you come. That’s what being a slave is all about.”

She moved faster, obliterating his ability to think. She leaned forward until she was straddling his waist and she pumped herself on his cock. Hard, vicious thrusts assaulted his cock, nearly driving him insane with desire. Her ass slammed hard into his belly, and it knocked the wind out of him. Even though a submissive ghost was fucking him while his cock was constricted, Stewart was still self-conscious about his fat stomach.

Painslut didn’t mind. The ghost humped him with a supernatural speed. The waterbed rolled and shifted with her thrusts until Stewart felt like he was in the middle of a storm. When he thought his oversensitive cock couldn’t take any more, Painslut stopped and threw her head back.

“Fuck!” she called out. Her cry was incredibly loud in the small soundproof room. Stewart felt Painslut’s pussy clench him a dozen times as she enjoyed the climax he had been denied. She slid off him and lay down beside him again. He moaned and begged, but Painslut put her hand over his mouth and directed him to look at the screen.

On the screen, Eleanor had removed the crop from Ms. Hershey’s sex. Glistening with her juices, the handle of the crop was slipped into Ms. Hershey’s mouth. The brunette eagerly opened her mouth and didn’t seem to mind at all. When Eleanor started stroking Ms. Hershey with her fingers, the lawyer managed to smile with the handle still in her mouth.

“Unbelievable,” Stewart said.

“What’s so unbelievable?” Painslut asked.

“She has that thing in her mouth, and she’s enjoying it!” he said.

“Of course she is,” Painslut said. “The little slut knows that if she pleases Mistress Eleanor, she will get off. When you are in the hands of a good master, any degradation is just foreplay to the climax. Wouldn’t you give anything to be in Mistress Eleanor’s place right now?”

“Yes,” Stewart said.

“And wouldn’t you love to tell Ms. Hershey to suck your cock for hours on end just at your command?”

“Yes,” Stewart said.

“Wouldn’t you humiliate Ms. Hershey for days if you knew it would just make her beg to fuck you?”

“Yes,” Stewart said.

“And wouldn’t you give anything, and I mean anything, to tell Annette to bend over and take your cock any way you wanted?”

“Oh, God, yes!” Stewart moaned.

“Prove it to me, Stewart, prove to me you’re a man,” Painslut moaned in his ear.

“How?” he said desperately.

“Give me a command,” Painslut said. “Pick a hole, anywhere on my body that you want to fuck. Come inside me, or come on me anywhere. Just give me a command, Stewart. Just tell me where you want to shoot your load.”

Stewart didn’t have to think.

“Suck me,” he said.

“Tell me more,” Painslut demanded.

“Suck me into your mouth,” Stewart said. “Swallow me. Lick me till I’m dry but just do it now!”

“Yes, Master,” Painslut, said. When he heard the word “master,” Stewart trembled all over.

Painslut bent down over Stewart’s lap, trailing her long black hair over his body. He felt her breasts flatten against him and her diamond studs prick his skin. Painslut guided his cock into her mouth, and he was amazed by how wet and warm her mouth was. He was aware of the fact that his cock was still wet from her pussy, but she didn’t flinch as she sucked his cock down.

Almost casually, she released the metal ring from around his cock.

Stewart ejaculated, then bellowed out a shout from deep inside. Painslut moaned as load after load went into her mouth. He pulled on his chains as his body tried to curl up on itself. He felt as though all of his nerves had centered on his erection and when he came, it was as if his entire body experienced the orgasm.

On the television screen, Ms. Hershey had her climax as well, but Stewart didn’t notice. He was too busy with his own bliss to see the young lawyer thrash and scream. The ejaculating man never saw the look of complete bliss and surrender on Ms. Hershey’s face, a facial expression that he shared .

When he was done, when there was nothing left to pump and Painslut had swallowed every drop, the deceased slave finally rose from his lap. She licked her lips loudly as she unlocked his chains. Stewart could barely stand, but Painslut helped him up. To his pride, he noticed that his cock was still as hard as granite.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

“Where do you think?” Painslut said. “It’s time for the ritual.”

Punkin Lovin'

I love musical comedy. Wordslut preyed on my weakness and sent me this. It's a minute and 18 seconds of WHAT THE FUCK?!



I swear that this is the last post this month that will have anything to do with sex and pumpkins.

Fiction: Haunted House of Bondage: The Mistress Bedroom

Annette listened to the gurgling of the pipes. As dark as the bathroom was, listening was the only thing she could do. Water was moving in the walls, but she didn’t hear any of the gargoyles leaking water. The blonde tensed when the volume of water moving rose to deafening levels, but the shower never came back on. Sometimes, she could hear sounds echoing from the pipes. She would hear a moan or a scream, and despite the steam that was still present in the bathroom, she would shiver. Her voice was hoarse from yelling for help to the point that she no longer tried to answer the moans and cries. She couldn’t decide if she was afraid of the moans, or jealous.

She twisted her wrists again, but the handcuffs held her tightly. Her legs ached from standing for so long, but worse was the constant arousal. The blonde had been tantalizingly close to orgasm when the shower had cut off. The incessant dripping of water from her body only reminded her of how wet she was between her thighs. She would have given anything for the shower to come back on and fill her sex with the beautiful pressure of water. Even if it meant dealing with the strange thing Stewart had become.

The hanging blonde spent a lot of time thinking about Stewart, or whoever that was who had accompanied her into the shower. She couldn’t forget how his features had melted into the image of that horrible-looking painting of Jonathan Foxglove. In a lot of ways, this was almost comforting. The man who had browbeaten her into the shower had excited her and scared her, two things she did not associate with her husband. The idea of Stewart being that person made her uneasy. She had come to rely on her dominance of Stewart. She could deal with the idea of something horrific or inexplicable as long as she knew where she stood in her marriage.

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Annette didn’t know what had been in the bathroom with her, but she did know one thing: She wanted it to come back. In all of her years of marriage, she had never known such exciting fear. She had been terrified when she was threatened with divorce, but once she had a moment to catch her breath, she couldn’t deny how exhilarating it was. Even the semen drying on her leg had aroused her. It was such a crude thing for her captor to have done but also something Annette knew Stewart could have never done. The uncertainty of her position only heightened her arousal until Annette thought she was going to die of pure desire.

A voice chuckled, and she summoned the courage to ask the question that had been on her mind for the last hour.

“Who’s there?”

“That is an excellent question,” a voice answered. It was a soft voice, barely audible, and it felt like it was coming from over Annette’s shoulder.

The blonde shrieked in panic as something in the darkness touched her leg. It was only a towel. Up and down her thigh the towel moved, and she shuddered whenever it came tantalizingly close to her sex. When the towel moved past her knee and rubbed her calf, she whined in disappointment.

The voice chuckled again. “Soon, my intended,” the voice said. “Soon, I will fuck you until your legs buckle and your breath is stolen. But for now, we must get you dry before we get you wet again.”

She blushed in the dark bathroom. The frankness of the voice’s intentions embarrassed her but also gave her hope. The towel moved to her other leg and she could feel strong fingers massage her calves. Her leg trembled, and this caused the voice to chuckle again.

“Such a fountain of desire. I knew I was the lucky one,” the voice said. The towel moved up to her thigh, and she held her breath as she hoped that he would move just a little higher.

“Who are you?” she repeated.

“I am not easily defined,” the voice admitted. The towel moved to Annette’s cleft and her breath escaped her in a gasp. Roughly, thoroughly and completely, the towel cleaned her nether lips. For a blissful ten seconds, she submitted to the forceful touching. When the towel slipped away from her sex, she could stand no more.

“Go back, go back! I was close!” she demanded.

A sharp slap from the towel landed on her ass. Annette was too stunned to even cry out from the stinging pain. He had struck her ass! As casually as you would that of a small child! She could just picture the towel winding up twisting into shape behind her. She felt foolish and helpless at how easily she had been punished.

“You will stay close, at least for a little while, my dear,” the voice said. It was barely a whisper, but Annette could hear the strain in the voice. “You have no idea how much your arousal feeds me! Gods, my lovers downstairs are clawing at scraps, barely able to manipulate objects, while I am growing in leaps and bounds in your presence. In no time, I will be corporeal enough to satisfy the urges you are radiating.”

“I don’t understand,” Annette said. The towel was now rubbing her ass. A hand was massaging each buttock through the towel, grabbing and pulling her cheeks in ways that would have gotten Stewart slapped if he tried it.

“I know you don’t understand,” the voice said. “How could you? I spent my life researching the mystic arts, combing secrets and learning dark rites. If it hadn’t been for my love of the female body, I might have gone mad in my quests. I barely understand it myself; how could I begin to explain it you?”

The towel went to her back, and she bit her lip. The next logical place for the towel to move would be to her front. She didn’t know what the voice was rambling about, but she did know that the hands felt strong and masculine on her back. She licked her lips as she imagined those hands on her wet tits.

“So much need,” the voice said. “What kind of a eunuch is your husband? I could have raised all three of us off your libido alone!”

Annette laughed at the “eunuch” comment. She was about to respond when the hands moved to her front. There was no touch of arms on her sides and this bothered her, but it was quickly forgotten. The hands were everything she had hoped for. Through the soft material of the towel, the hands mauled her heavy breasts. It wasn’t the timid touch that Stewart gave her. This was a plundering. The hands felt every inch of her tits as the fingers flicked over her nipples and the palms lifted her breasts to be dried.

The towel moved up to her head. The fingers were running through her scalp delicately as they dried her short hair. She moaned as the gentle massage rolled over her head. The blonde came to a decision. She was going to divorce Stewart. She didn’t care if he kept the millions if it meant she could have her hair dried like this on a regular basis.

The towel wrapped around her eyes, and she smiled at the idea of being blindfolded in the dark bathroom.

“I’m going to release your bindings, but you have to make me a promise,” the voice said. “You have to keep the towel over your eyes. I … am not pleasant to look at right now. The crash was quite terrible, and I’m having a hard time setting bones back to where they should be. I had no idea the soul would remember such things.”

Annette wasn’t listening. “I’ll keep it on,” she said. A lot of what he said was too disturbing to believe, so she just ignored it. She had more faith in those hands than she did in what the voice said.

She felt the metal slip off her ankles and wrists. The metal collar she wore remained. She rubbed her hands together and then tried to reach for the voice. She felt nothing. The now-dry blonde was momentarily afraid that the voice might have left. A sense of anguish swelled inside her.

“This way, dear,” the voice said. “Step over the tub carefully and come towards my voice.”

Annette followed him, giggling a little as her hands stretched out in front of her. She hoped to grab a touch of her mysterious man and maybe compel him to please her now. On the other hand, the games and the teasing thrilled her. She couldn’t imagine Stewart having the strength to deny her like this.

She stepped out of the bathroom and followed the voice until she entered a bedroom. A fire crackled, and the heat washed over her bare skin. Annette knew she had to be in Eleanor’s room and that amused her. It just added to her sense of danger to be cavorting in the room of that stern bitch. Annette thought about moving Eleanor’s painting to this bedroom so Eleanor could see how a real woman uses such a lovely room.

“Stop, stand right there,” the voice commanded. “You look lovely by firelight.”

Annette smiled. She could just imagine the view. The light would be flickering over her body, casting shadows over the room. Somewhere in the room her new companion would be admiring her, maybe even masturbating. The blonde stood straighter. She had had Stewart pawing after her for so long, she had forgotten that she was actually beautiful.

“Take three more steps, and be careful, you’re heading towards the bed,” the voice said.

That sent shivers down her spine. The bed? Yes!

Annette took three very slow but eager steps. Something warm and fuzzy greeted her and wrapped around her entire body. She was cocooned in something that felt like velvet, and when she tried to push it away, it only wrapped tighter around her.

As the velvet wrapped around her legs, it tripped her forward. She cried out, but the velvet pushed into her mouth to choke her complaints. She landed on the bed and felt a brief second of relief. That relief faded as the velvet wrapped tighter around her, pinning her arms and legs together. She struggled harder and found herself completely trapped.

“The curtains do make a good restraint, don’t they?” the voice asked.

Annette couldn’t say anything intelligible through the gag. The curtains were shifting under her body, tying together more and more tightly. She was becoming angry as she realized how immobilized she was. She couldn’t escape — and worse, she couldn’t touch that ache that had increased between her thighs.

“That’s right,” the voice said, seemingly in answer to her thoughts. “There will be no touching there just yet. You are close to what I need but not yet. Your body hasn’t even neared its true potential. Luckily for you, I am an old hand at arousing the heights of flesh.”

Annette tried to protest, but the curtain gagged her tight. She tried to kick her legs in frustration, but the binding curtains wouldn’t even let her do that. It was too cruel! She was more than willing to give herself to this voice, and yet it was making her wait! Terrible, nasty, vicious comments that she normally reserved for Stewart boiled to her lips, but the gag choked them all into nonsense. For some reason, though, her muted insults made the voice chuckle.

“Rant on, my lovely,” the voice said. It was stronger now, a little deeper and no longer over her shoulder. “Tell me every cruel thing you can think of because I know the truth. The truth is that you are enjoying the idea of being made to wait. You’re reveling in the idea that you finally have a man who can resist you enough to not obey your every whim.”

She ceased her fuming and thought about his words. Could she be so easy? Was she so desperate that she would jump on the first man who was able to turn her down? Her cheeks burned with defiance, but she couldn’t deny it. Her body needed to be touched and fucked.

The curtain did touch her, but it was in subtle ways. The temperature was beginning to rise within the curtain, trapping all of Annette’s heat and pushing it back down on her. Her breasts were bound close to her chest, and she was painfully aware of how sensitive and hard her nipples were against the velvet. She was sweating, and the sweat was soaking the curtain. Trickles of sweat moved over her body like tiny kisses. She felt like she was being embraced from head to toe, and that only heightened her fantasies.

She began to whine and plead, hoping he could understand her through the gagging curtain.

“Oh, anything?” the voice said. “You offer me anything I want? That’s very generous of you. I accept.”

The curtain shifted around her body. A small swath opened around her ass, and Annette smiled. She thought the curtain was going to unwind around to her front and her anticipating sex. Instead, the curtain merely exposed her ass, framing it in red velvet.

“I think I’ll take … your ass!” the voice said.

Before she could react, something stung her on the ass. It was quick and sharp, slapping her buttocks in a precise sting. Another blow came, and another, before she was able to place what was hitting her. It was the edge of the curtain, wound up and striking her like a child’s wet towel! She couldn’t believe that in this house of decadent toys, she didn’t rate at least a paddle or a whip. She felt humbled by this fact, and oddly disappointed.

Meanwhile, the curtain continued to whip her. There was no place for Annette to go. Bound by the curtain, all she could do was writhe and twist uselessly on the bed. The laughter that came from the voice taunted her, making her aware of how ridiculous her struggles were. She continued to try to escape, her cheeks burning with indignation.

The curtain stung her without mercy. Her rounded ass flinched with each blow, delighting the voice endlessly. Red welts were slowly rising on her buttocks, serving as road marks for the curtain to know where to strike next. Left to right, up and down and all over, the curtain covered her squirming bottom with relentless whips.

She’d thought that the curtain had made her hot before, but her ass was far surpassing that heat. The struggling blonde was forgetting the rest of her body as her attention focused below her waist. Her ass was so incredibly sensitive, and the sensation was spilling down to her front. As she rolled and twisted, she could feel the wet curtain underneath her. She was soaking the velvet with her unending need to be fucked!

“Excellent,” the voice said. The curtain ceased its whipping. “Such a bright cherry color. I would love to fuck that ass right now.”

“Do it!” Annette screamed through her gag.

The voice chuckled. “I just might.”

The curtain came loose and unraveled from her body. An eager thrill ran through her, but she was too exhausted to move. Resisting the curtain had taken the fight out of her. She crawled forward a little and was relieved when she felt something wrap around her wrists and pull her forward. That relief melted when she realized it was the curtain around her wrists. The curtain tied itself tight around her hands, and she felt similar velvet touches around her ankles. Her legs were pulled lewdly apart, and Annette prayed that it was for what she hoped it was for.

“Are you ready for me?” the voice asked.

“Yes!” she said. Her hips wiggled unconsciously.

“Even if your husband comes in and surprises us?”

“Yes!” she said again.

“Even if that little slut Ms. Hershey was to come in and catch us rutting like animals?”

Annette moaned. It would be humiliating to have that prissy lawyer surprise them, but then it would so very much be worth it!

“One more detail, I think,” the voice said.

The sheets underneath Annette moved. They formed a hill underneath her belly, pushing her waist up. Annette moaned as her sex rose, offering itself to her unknown seducer.

“Perfect,” the voice said.

Without any warning, she was entered. She cried out and the curtain flew back into her mouth. The thrusts came hard and fast, pushing deep inside her wet pussy. The cock inside her was wonderfully large and hard; Annette felt like she was being split apart in the greatest possible way.

The wonderful fucking nearly obliterated her reasoning but not quite. For instance, she wondered why the bed didn’t sink when the voice entered her. She also noticed that she never felt anything on her ass when the cock pushed deep inside her. There were no hands or legs either. The only thing Annette could feel was that wonderful cock inside her. But that’s all she really cared about.

“Yes! This is how one should cross the Veil!” the voice cried.

The thrusts increased. She moaned as the cock hammered her. She had never felt anything so fast or precise, it was inhuman! Stewart’s fat little gut could never perform like this. Each thrust rubbed her breasts harder into the bedding, her hard nipples burning from the friction. Annette bit down on the velvet in her mouth as she reveled in the ecstasy of a good fuck.

Bizarrely, she thought of Stewart. She wondered if he would be shocked to see her like this. Would he die of pure shock at the sight of his wife’s whipped ass? Would be jealous of her new lover and his immense cock? For a brief flash, she felt sorry for her husband. Then her lover rammed her again, and all the sympathy was fucked out of her.

As the fucking continued, Annette finally began to feel other parts of her lover. His hands were tight around her waist, pulling and pushing her on his long cock. She could feel his flat stomach on her ass, impacting delightfully against her welt-covered cheeks. The bed began to sink, almost as if his weight was just now displacing the bed. Again, she didn’t care. She was getting fucked, and wasn’t that all that really mattered?

The towel fell from her head, and her eyes popped open in delight. She tried to turn her head and get a look at her lover, but she was too slow. One of those strong, masterful hands grabbed her head and pointed her forward. The long fingers slipped into her hair and squeezed. She moaned as the hand pulled back on her head, arching her like a bow as the fucking continued.

“Are you going to come, my Annette?” the voice asked. It was louder now, deeper and so very sexy to Annette’s ears.

The curtain fell out of her mouth, and she cried out “Yes!”

“Then come!” the voice commanded.

Annette did. Just like that, her body responded. It was everything she had dreamed and hoped for. Every nerve in her body went off simultaneously. Her body shook from head to toe as her long awaited orgasm crashed over her body. She lost all sense of herself for a few glorious seconds before she felt herself return to her body.

It was simply the greatest orgasm she had ever had.

The man inside her climaxed as well. She hung loosely in her bonds as he ejaculated inside her. She clenched around him, draining him of the precious proof that he desired her as much as she did him. His seed filled her and spilled from her when he withdrew.

He collapsed on the bed beside her, and she got her first good look at her lover. The resemblance to Stewart was shocking. There was the same nose, the deep blue eyes and the satisfied grin on his lips after sex. For a delirious moment, Annette thought it was Stewart.

“Yes, my nephew is a spitting image,” the man said. “It was on of the reasons I picked him to be my heir.”

An impossible thought worked its way through Annette’s orgasm-filled brain.

“You’re Jonathan?” she asked. “Jonathan Foxglove?”

“Of course,” he said.

She looked at him. He was so young-looking. And so fit. His chest was a display of powerful muscles and smooth skin. A full head of hair flowed from his scalp. There was no way he could be the frail, bald old man she’d seen in the painting.

He smiled at her stare. “Well, if I was creating a material form to fuck you with, I was going to pick a good-looking one. I didn’t die a painful death just to come back as a monster. Granted, I had to wait till I raised your desire to a peak before I could harness the mana to form this body, but it was worth the wait. Trust me, you wouldn’t have wanted to fuck me before. My twisted neck alone would have driven you mad.”

Annette believed him. In fact, she had no doubt that he was the deceased former master of Foxglove. His eyes were compelling. Looking into those deep pools, she knew he was telling the truth. The worse thing was that even knowing he was a ghost, Annette ached to fuck him again.

“How, and why?” she managed to ask.

He ran a hand over her short blond hair and stroked her scalp. Annette moaned and forgot her question. Jonathan didn’t.

“How? I did it with magic, of course. You would be amazed at what you can do with three souls working together. As to why, that’s simple. Eleanor and I were old. A rebirth was in order. As for Painslut, it wasn’t necessary for her die, but she saw it as a chance to endure the ultimate sensation. She can be so cute that way.“

“The others are here, too?” Annette asked. There was a tremor in her voice. Annette had a vision of Eleanor finding her in bed with Jonathan. Somehow, Annette knew that there would be hell to pay.

“Where do you think your husband and lawyer are?” Jonathan laughed. “Painslut is preparing your husband, while my wife is entertaining the delicious Ms. Hershey. Trust me, neither of them had as easy a time as we did.”

His eyes looked deeply into hers, and Annette felt her sex melt. There was adoration in his eyes, as well as a terrible interest. Jonathan looked at her as though she were a precious resource, one he planned to drill, drink and mine until it was empty. She liked that feeling.

“You have something special,” Jonathan whispered. “You need to be fucked, and you have needed it for too long. To ghosts such as us, that need is so tangible. It’s like a lighthouse, drawing us back to the world of the living.”

His hand slipped under her body and squeezed a breast. Annette shuddered as skilled fingers crushed a hard nipple. Her ass swayed back and forth, hoping she could tempt him back to her sex.

“I made precautions when we died,” Jonathan said as he continued to grope her. “I made sure our souls would return to the house. I made sure the will required you and your husband to stay the night with a lawyer. I cast the right spells so that we would be able to affect the real world. When you thought Stewart was threatening you with divorce, that was just an illusion with no reality of its own. You were literally talking to phantoms in your head.”

“But I felt you,” Annette said and then blushed. It wasn’t him he felt, it was his hot seed landing on her leg. It felt real, just as real as the warm liquid flowing out of her pussy now.

Jonathan laughed. “I know. Imagine my surprise when your sexual aura had already given me enough energy to manifest, albeit just a few ounces, on the material plane already. That’s when I knew I had a keeper. While the others had to seduce their victims into gaining enough mana for levitation and other tricks, you were pulling my body into existence. Our plan would be finished by now if all we needed was you.”

Annette felt a bit of pride at his praise. She didn’t understand most of it, but she knew enough to know he appreciated her. She knew he appreciated her enough to use her whenever he pleased, unlike her simpering husband.

“What do you hope to accomplish?” she asked. Her tongue licked her lips, and it wasn’t unconsciously.

“It’s a surprise,” Jonathan said. He sat up and stroked his cock. “But I will tell you this: When it is complete, by dawn tomorrow, you and I will have a lifetime to fuck, suck and enjoy life.”

Annette ground against the sheets and shivered. “Why dawn? Why not now?”

“Because we have to wait till the others have reached your level of arousal,” he said. He moved closer to Annette’s face and pulled her head towards him. Without a word of encouragement, she opened her lips and took his cock into her mouth. She could taste herself on him, but she didn’t care. In fact, she was proud of it.

Jonathan groaned. The afterlife had been cold and dry. Annette’s mouth was hot and wet. He restrained himself. He wanted to fuck her face, he wanted to climb on top of her again and fuck her even faster than before, but he held back. Annette sucked him slowly and softly, and he let her.

“As soon as Eleanor and Painslut are ready, we’ll join them,” he said. “But until then, we’ll just have to figure out a way to kill a few hours. Will that be a problem?”

She chuckled. The vibrations from her throat wrapped around Jonathan’s cock till the dead man moaned. It wouldn’t be a problem at all.

Fiction: October Liaisons

There is a town in the South where no one dresses up for Halloween. On October 31, the children stay home with aged relatives or teen babysitters and watch movies, play games or anything else that passes the time during what feels like the longest night of the year. It’s not because the people of Planter’s Creek think Halloween is a devil’s holiday, and it’s not because of some sort of conservative hatred of imagination and fun. They just don’t see Halloween as a time for children. There’s too much fucking to do.

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Planter’s Creek is a farming town. Every since the town was founded by Irish immigrants back in 1763, farming has been the passion of its inhabitants. Droughts, heat waves and hurricanes obliterate the farms in neighboring towns, but Planter’s Creek keeps growing off the bounty of its harvest. Oh, there are bankers, doctors and other important people every town needs, but it is the farmers that make the town breathe and groan. Children grow up to be farmers, and the elderly pass their farms on to their children. Other farming towns die out as their young migrate to the big city but Planter’s Creek children stay in the town of their birth. They’re connected to the land by a bond they never understand till their first Halloween night as adults.

September is harvest time in Planter’s Creek. Crops are brought in and shipped off to buyers who know the perfection of their crops. Anything that grows is cut and carried off, except for what grows in two special pumpkin patches. These pumpkins are left alone except for the attention given them by old man Dan and his crone of a wife, Diana. No knife will ever carve these pumpkins, and no fire will ever burn inside them. If you ever want to make a man or woman cry in Planter’s Creek, show them a Jack-o’-Lantern. Just be ready, because that person might decide to take a swing at you.

You see, when October 31 rolls around, the people of Planter’s Creek are full of pride in their magnificent harvest. Their bank accounts are as full as their cellars crammed with produce. Prosperity has come to the town once again. Once again, Mother Nature has been generous to Planter’s Creek, and once again, it is time for the people to show her that same generosity in return.

The adults of Planter’s Creek gather together on the darkest night of the year. The men go to the pumpkin patch tended by old man Dan, and the women go the one watched over by Diana. What happens at one patch is never spoken of to the other gender, for some mysteries are not meant to be known by all.

When the men reach their pumpkin patch, they find Nature waiting for them. The pumpkins have grown to the size of women — and the shape of women. The moonlight reveals orange legs, orange hips, orange breasts and orange faces topped with long green hair. The men go into the pumpkin patch silently except for the occasional nervous giggle. They walk among the pumpkin women, looking for some particular quality, some secret desire that will be manifested in a silent natural beauty. Sometimes the pumpkin women decide for them and reach out to draw a chosen farmer down to the ground with them. No matter what happens during the year, there is always a pumpkin lover for every man who comes this night.

For the women, it’s pumpkin studs who wait. With bodies as perfect as those of their sisters in the other patch, these pumpkin men could have been carved from orange marble. Where their sisters have curves, these males have hard lines. Where the pumpkin women have coy smiles these pumpkin Adonises have confident grins like those of knowing lovers. In this patch, the women take a little bit longer to choose their mates. They squeeze, they compare, and they talk among themselves before settling down with their pumpkin paramours. Sometimes, a pumpkin male will choose a woman and pull her down into orange arms. Never has a pumpkin stud chosen unwisely. Nature knows what some cannot say.

In the brisk October night, the two pumpkin patches turn into orgies. Cocks plunge into orange cunts. Kisses taste impossibly sweet on pumpkin lips. Orange hips move to Nature’s rhythm. Hard pumpkin cocks open willing cunts. Breasts that will never sag are squeezed by eager hands, while broad orange backs resist the deepest scratches of their lovers’ nails.

Seed is spilled in both pumpkin patches. Down throats, into cunts and between tight buttocks, seed is passed between Nature and the farmers. This is the bounty Nature asks for. The people of Planter’s Creek are not the masters of their environment: They are its lovers. The pumpkin lovers are worshipped with tongues, fingers, cocks and cunts, each a proxy for Nature’s blessings.

The honeymoon lasts all night. When morning comes, the men and women leave their October brides and husbands. They return to their homes sated and exhausted from their duties. They go back to their lives with smiles that will last them the entire winter.

As for the pumpkin lovers, no one knows where they go. Old man Dan and his wife Diana always find the patches empty come November 1. Old man Dan thinks the earth reclaims its proxies. Diana thinks the pumpkin lovers go to some other town to enact some other ritual. They’ll argue about it as they do every year until the cold of winter forces them back into each other’s arms.

It doesn’t matter. Come spring, the pumpkin patches will sprout new lovers. They will be tended with love, respect and care all through the summer. At harvest time, they will come to life once more to renew the pact that is made between thighs.

Half Nekked Thursday: Shivers

When I read porn, I often get these shivers down my back.

Fiction:Haunted House of Bondage:The Candle Room

Virginia wiggled her wrists incessantly. The handcuffs were wide enough to let her think she could slip through them. It was just an illusion. The metal bands wouldn’t let her go until someone unlocked them. The lawyer knew that, but she kept trying. It wasn’t like she had anything else to do while she waited inside this cage. Her legs were already exhausted from trying to kick the cage door open.

She rolled over onto her side and bit down hard on the dildo gag in her mouth. The shifting had agitated her nipple clamps, and she gasped as the sharp teeth bit into her nipples. She had considered rolling over onto her stomach and trying to rub the clamps off on the bedding, but she knew better. The tight clamps wouldn’t let go of her tender nipples so easily.

Virginia’s thighs rubbed together uselessly. Perhaps the worst part of her imprisonment was the terrible desire she was experiencing. Her body still remembered the feel of the ivory dildo inside her, and now she felt achingly empty. She wanted to be stretched. She wanted to be filled. Most of all, she wanted to be fucked.

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Once again, she tried to somehow get her bound hands down to her sex. The young woman twisted, contorted and turned, but she just couldn’t do it. Every move caused her small breasts to jiggle, which agitated the nipple clamps until the pain reached nearly unbearable levels. She breathed hard through her nose since the dildo gag so effectively filled her mouth and throat. The collar seemed to tighten around her neck as she struggled, but she knew it was just her imagination.

Or at least she hoped so.

Virginia wasn’t sure about anything anymore. She thought about the way her client, Annette, had talked her into this odd position. Her desire increased as she thought about the masterful way the older blonde had instructed her. Her last boyfriend had been into domination, but he was nothing like Annette. The older woman had made her demands with complete confidence that Virginia would obey. She also knew that Annette wouldn’t be distracted from her commands the way a man would. The young lawyer had talked her way out of various {punishments” just by promising to suck her ex-boyfriend’s cock. She knew that such a strategy would never work with Annette. Virginia was surprised by how easy it was to submit to the older woman’s demands, and there was no denying how much she hoped Annette would come back soon.

There was still the question of the strange moments right before Annette had disappeared. What had happened? Virginia remembered seeing Annette age before her eyes and turn into the image of the deceased Eleanor Foxglove, but she had a hard time trusting her memory. Perhaps it was a hallucination, brought on by the strangeness of the house and the maddening need between her thighs. Virginia wanted very badly to believe that it was a delusion. She wanted some sort of an explanation that would allow her to hope that Annette would return soon to finish this game.

Virginia had a worrisome thought. What if Annette were going to get her husband, Stewart? What if they both returned to torment her? Virginia imagined the leering Stewart and how delighted he would be to find her like this. The lawyer pictured the couple pulling her from her cage and tossing her onto the floor. Stewart would gladly fill her sex with his cock, while Annette might drop down on Virginia’s face and guide her mouth between Annette’s thighs …

Virginia whimpered as her empty pussy clenched. God, she knew she had it bad if she was imagining Stewart. The bound woman fought her handcuffs again. She knew she wouldn’t regain her senses until her hands were free and she could slip two wonderful fingers deep inside her.

The room was as dark as a senior partner’s heart, but Virginia could feel the dimensions of the cage with her legs. She was curious about how small it was. The cage was just long enough to lie in but not tall enough to let her sit up. The blankets and a pillow made it almost comfortable, but she couldn’t help wondering what it was like for the former occupant, Painslut, to have slept in here. She couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for the woman to sleep inside a locked cage, never knowing when or if someone was going to let her out. The bound lawyer realized that every night, Painslut proved her submission to the Foxgloves simply by going to her bed.

Virginia’s libido easily constructed an image of the helpless Painslut in her cage. She could imagine the elder Foxgloves sneaking into the bedroom of their slave in the middle of the night. Perhaps they would simply sit on top of the cage, masturbating as they watched the sleeping woman. Or maybe they would wake her up deliberately before having sex just out of her reach. Most likely, considering the sex toys that abounded in this room, the Foxgloves would pull Painslut from her cage and plunder her body for hours and hours until the slave cried for mercy …

Virginia moaned as her fantasy carried her away. She resumed her struggles to free her hands. The gloves she wore were tight against her skin, and sometimes, it felt as though the rubber would help her slip past the metal of the cuffs. It was a slim chance, but she struggled, anyway.

In the absolute darkness of the room, Virginia heard someone approaching. She distinctly heard the sounds of heels clicking on stairs as they descended. The clicking heels approached the bedroom. The bound lawyer was breathing hard as she anticipated Annette’s arrival.

The door to the bedroom opened, and the light from the hallway peeked into the room. Virginia crawled around inside the cage until she could see who — or what — was at the door. When she saw, her thighs shook with fear.

Floating at the doorway was a black corset. Virginia recognized it as the same corset that Eleanor Foxglove wore in her painting. It was also the same corset Annette had revealed when she had stripped earlier. On the ground were two very high heels, and Virginia knew they were what she had heard come down the stairs. The corset floated in mid-air, but it somehow seemed to be filled. The cups were pushed forward, and the corset tilted from side to side as it floated forward. The heels clicked as they walked towards Virginia’s cage.

A gold chain floated through the air and snaked into the cage. Virginia was frozen with fear as the chain floated towards her. It shot towards her throat, and Virginia heard it snap onto her collar. Once she was leashed, the door to her cage opened. The leash snaked down her chest until it was under the chain that held her nipple clamps. The leash then tugged her, pulling on both her collar and her already-tender nipples. The young lawyer was pulled out of the cage, hobbling along on her knees.

She stood up and looked the corset in the eye, so to speak. The end of the gold chain floated to the corset’s side and gave her a quick tug. The black corset turned around and, with the shoes, walked out of the bedroom. She noted how tightly strained the lacing of the corset was as well as how hypnotically it swayed.

The floating corset walked Virginia into the hall. In the brightly lit hall, the impossibility of the corset was harder to ignore. She had toyed with the idea that maybe this was an elaborate trick, but she discarded the idea. When they passed by the painting of Eleanor Foxglove, Virginia had no more doubts. This was no optical illusion. This was some sort of a ghost, and in Virginia’s opinion, it couldn’t be anyone but the former lady of the house, Eleanor. Virginia just hoped it wasn’t an angry spirit, and in the back of her mind, she even hoped that the ghost of Eleanor had the same libido as the living one had.

Virginia was led through the hallway by the leash. A door opened. It was the Candle Room. The lawyer stopped dead in her tracks. All of the candles were lit, and the flickering glow was ominous. She would have screamed for help were it not for the thick dildo in her mouth. She tried to pull away from the room, but the golden leash was too strong. Because the leash was also pulling her nipple chain, every resistance the young woman gave was painfully negated. She couldn’t resist being pulled into her destination.

When Virginia had entered the room earlier with Annette, it had contained only candles. Now there was rope. Coils and coils of thick rope lay on the ground, the ends floating up like the heads of snakes hypnotized by a charmer. The ends of the ropes all turned towards her, moving as a single entity. Virginia tried to scream through her gag when they all flew forward!

The floating corset moved out of the way as the ropes snaked around Virginia’s body. She felt a rope slip over her wrists, and almost instantly, the handcuffs fell from her hands. She tried to move, but the rope held her tight. Coils of rope wrapped around her ankles and tugged her forward. Although some ghostly force animated it, the rope still tied itself into knots around her body. One length of rope twined around her waist and pulled her forward like a leash. As she was tugged, the golden leash around her neck fell off her collar and landed loudly on the floor.

Virginia was pulled to the center of the room. Once she was there, the ropes that held her floated toward the hanging pulleys. The ropes ran through the pulleys with a dazzling speed. She squealed as her right leg was pulled upwards. Another coil wrapped around her thigh, guiding her rising leg so that her legs were lewdly open. She hopped around on her left leg, her thigh trembling to support her weight.

More rope snaked down over Virginia, criss-crossing over her chest. The rope interlaced with itself, forming a network of rope over her breasts and stomach. She sighed with relief as the nipple clamps unattached themselves and fell off. Her sigh turned to a cry of alarm as the blood flowed back into her tortured nipples. The reawakened nerves overwhelmed her with intense sensations, and she twisted futilely in her bonds. She didn’t even notice as lengths of rope fell over her breasts, pushing her tender nipples back into her breasts.

The ropes stopped moving. She was left standing on one leg, her arms tightly bound together behind her. The scratchy rope was tied closely over her nipples. The way her one leg was pulled open reminded her of having sex standing up, and her desire hadn’t abated despite the oddity of the situation. In fact, she could feel her juices dripping down her leg.

The black corset moved around Virginia’s body. The candles cast odd shadows on the wall but oddest of all were the shadows of the corset. She saw the outline of a tall woman with a very long ponytail cast on the wall. As the corset floated, the shadow of the woman walked. Virginia flinched when she saw the shadow reach toward her.

She felt a tug on the rope, and she was spun to the side. The bound woman had to hop with the rope to keep her balance. When the rope stopped, she was facing away from the corset. She began to shake. What was happening behind her where she couldn’t see?

A gentle heat was her answer. Virginia felt the heat of a nearby flame move up her standing leg, starting at the ankle. The bound woman knew it had to be a candle, kept far enough away to not burn her but close enough to tingle her skin with its flame. She was terrified. If the candle burned her, there was nothing she could do. Yet despite this fear, she found herself getting more aroused. The heat of the flame was like a lover’s hot breath, coaxing her skin as it moved up, up, up towards her thighs and sex.

The candle moved across to her lifted thigh. Virginia’s skin tingled as the flame swayed under her thigh. The flame came close enough to almost burn and then quickly moved away. The teasing threat made her thighs clench hard, but the rope held her tightly.

The candle moved out from beneath her legs and floated in front of Virginia. It was a blue candle, and she blushed as she realized it was just wide enough to be an adequate dildo. As she watched the flame, the ropes holding her arms tugged upwards. The gag muffled her squeal of surprise. The ropes kept pulling on her hands until she was bent forward. When the ropes stopped, she was tilting perilously close to the candle and its flame.

The flame moved between Virginia’s bound breasts. She felt the heat on her cleavage, and sweat began to flow from her body. The flame moved back and forth, heating her nipples through the rope.

The candle floated back up to her lifted thigh, then floated above it. She twisted her head to see what it was up to. Her eyes widened as she saw the candle tip until a bead of hot wax formed on the lip of the candle. She knew that the hot wax was about to drop onto her skin, but there was nothing she could do. The rope kept her pinned, and all she could do was watch.

The hot wax splattered on her thigh. She bit down on the dildo gag as the intense heat pinched her. The pain was sharp, but it subsided quickly as the wax cooled. Another drop splashed, then another, until there was a line of blue trailing down her thigh. She moaned in her bonds as the wax fell on her. It reminded her of a chain of biting kisses. As each drop cooled, she felt relief, until the next dropped with a fresh pain.

The heat from the wax was hot but not nearly as hot as the heat between Virginia’s thighs. Her sex clenched with each splatter, aching to feel something as intense as the wax. She was sweating from the heat, but she knew that the wet line going down her leg wasn’t sweat at all.

The candle moved away from her thigh and hovered out of sight. The bound lawyer wondered where the candle would drip next, but she didn’t have long to wait. A single drop splashed on her buttocks and slipped down the curve of her ass before cooling. She moaned as the melting wax simmered on her bottom.

More wax dripped, and Virginia never ceased struggling. Like tiny spanks, the wax drops bit her ass. She could feel the wax running down her buttocks, curving under her and dropping from her body. Through the blitz of sensations she was experiencing, she found herself wondering how it all looked. Was her ass covered in blue streaks? Were welts rising from the heat? Most of all, would there be any relief for the ache she felt in her sex?

An unexpected push gave her the answer she craved. The blue candle was upside down and pushing against lips of her sex. Because of the angle of her lifted thigh, the candle had no trouble slipping in. She wasn’t concerned at all about the fact that the candle was still lit. All she cared about was the wonderful feeling of the soft wax pumping her.

One, two, three times the candle stroked her pussy.

When the candle left her and floated away, Virginia nearly cried in frustration. It wasn’t enough! The gag choked her begging demands into incomprehensible moans.

Her pleas were forgotten as the ropes moved again. The one leg that held her up was pulled from the ground and into the air. For a brief second, she was in freefall before the ropes caught her. She was now suspended completely, facedown. Her legs were lifted higher than her head, and she felt the ropes holding her arms unwind and reform. The ropes spread her arms so that her back was completely exposed.

More candles floated. They spun around Virginia and danced between the ropes. Some floated under her, warming her belly and coming uncomfortably close to her chest. Her nipples were incredibly hard underneath the binding ropes, and her sex hadn’t stopped clenching since she had been lifted. She didn’t care what the candles did as long as one candle fulfilled her needs.

The wax began to fall on her back, her ass and her legs. Virginia screamed through her gag as the rain of heat sprinkled over her. It was too much. It was too intense, and it was too hot, and most of all, it was turning her on more than she thought she could stand.

She didn’t know how many candles were dripping on her, but she knew it had to be at least a dozen. From her calves to her shoulders, the hot wax fell. Some of the candles moved in lines that followed the curves of her body. Some of the candles just stayed on one place, dropping an endless stream of wax onto her skin. It was like being in the center of an orgy of tongues and teeth. The heat of the wax bit her skin, but the cooling slide of the wax soothed her.

Every rare once in awhile, a drop of wax would strike her exposed sex. The first time it happened, Virginia nearly blacked out from the direct heat. When the wax cooled on her pussy, she lost her breath to the subtle stimulation. Her sex clenched in vain, aching for the satisfying touch that eluded her.

Her arms and legs were sore from the labor of supporting her weight. Her head hung low, rising only occasionally when a hot splash of wax made her squirm. The constant splattering of wax set every nerve on fire, but the effort of twisting was wearing her out. She was so exhausted that before long she just hung limply as the wax pricked her body.

She almost didn’t notice when the gag came loose from around her head. The long black dildo slipped out of her mouth, and she worked her sore jaw muscles. She watched the dildo float in front of her and harbored a secret wish that it would not fall to the ground forgotten. Virginia knew exactly what she wished the dildo would do. The bound woman didn’t even consider yelling for help or rescue. Although the wax hurt, she wasn’t about to let this end before it achieved its orgasmic conclusion.

The heels clicked around in front of Virginia, the corset floating with the shoes. She felt as though the corset were examining her. The dildo kept floating, and the bound woman couldn’t keep silent about her needs.

“Miss Eleanor?” Virginia asked.

The corset tilted slightly. It waited.

“Miss Eleanor, could you please use the dildo on me?” Virginia said. She realized she was begging a ghost for sex, but she didn’t care.

On the wall behind the corset, Virginia could see the shadow of the ghost. The shadow’s arm rose, and the hand curled. Virginia understood the beckoning of the arm. Eleanor wanted to hear more.

“Please, ma’am,” Virginia begged. “You’ve driven me crazy. Please let me come. I’ll do anything you want and play any game you desire. Just put the dildo in me, please!”

The shadow nodded, and Virginia giggled with relief as the dildo floated out of sight. She felt the dildo brush against her thigh and home in between her legs. Bound as she was, she could only wait as the dildo pushed slowly into her. The dildo filled her, pushing her open until she cried out in relief. She clenched the hard rubber and struggled against the ropes. She tried as hard as she could to fuck the floating dildo, but she was too tired. When the dildo slipped out of her sex, she cried out again in frustration.

The dildo returned to her mouth, choking her cry. Slick from her own desire, it slid effortlessly into her mouth. She tasted herself on the dildo and sucked the juices off the rubber. She was encouraged by the fact that the gag wasn’t tied this time. She hoped that this meant that the mysterious Eleanor wasn’t done with her.

Virginia felt the ropes moving again. Her ankles and wrists were pulled in different directions, and she squealed as the ropes guided her through a reverse somersault in midair. Now she was hanging from the ceiling face up in a U, her arms and legs curling up towards the sky. The ropes had untwined from around her chest, so now, she had nothing covering her precious breasts. She looked at her body and, most important, at her burning sex. She saw a few drops of wax streaking her pussy, but she could also see how wet she was. The sight made her tremble as she was confronted with how much she was enjoying this.

The candles floated over her, and she felt her heart beat faster. It was one thing to be burned by the falling wax, but it was something else to actually watch it happen. Eight candles of all colors of the rainbow floated around her, dodging through her limbs and the hanging ropes. Watching how quickly the candles moved, she feared that they might accidentally set the ropes on fire.

Her fears were forgotten as the wax began to drip. Virginia couldn’t tear her eyes off the tipping candles, watching as the beads of wax formed on the lips of the candles before falling. In slow motion, the drips fell onto her body. Little pricks of molten wax collided with her skin, splattering their heat before rapidly cooling.

She hadn’t realized how helpless she really was until now. When a candle tipped over one of her breasts, she would twist and writhe, but it did no good. She was forced to watch the candle aim and then release its wax directly onto one of her exposed nipples. The bound woman screamed into her gag as the wax cooled on her aching nipples. Both nipples were already tender from the clamps and the rope, but she discovered that they were still capable of enduring more intense sensations. Again and again, the candles would splatter her chest, but all she could do was watch.

A black candle floated between her thighs, and even though it was lit, Virginia harbored a wicked desire to be penetrated. The candle hovered between her legs before dipping down and simply rubbing against her nether lips. She moaned as the end of the candle ground against her clitoris. Such direct stimulation was unexpected, and she shook in her bonds with pleasure despite the constant raining of hot wax on her body.

The candle rose and tipped, dropping a long stream of hot wax directly onto her sex. Her cries were so loud that not even the gag could silence her. The hot wax scorched her, but the intense sensation was driving her arousal into frenzy. Only when the candle moved away did she realize she had nearly had a climax from the wax.

Dazed, she hung loosely as the ropes moved again. Now, the ropes holding her legs pulled straight up, while her arms were held tightly to her sides. She hung upside down in a Y shape as her legs were pulled wider and wider apart. Her ass and sex were extremely vulnerable, and her hopes rose as the black corset walked around behind her. On the wall, she saw the shadow of the ghost beckon for her. When the gag was pulled from her mouth, Virginia didn’t hold back.

“Fuck me!” she sobbed. “Candles, dildos, I don’t care! Just fuck me, please!”

One of the black heels floated in front of her face. The point of the shoe came closer to her mouth, and the young lawyer knew what to do. Upside down, she kissed the offered shoe. The shoe moved slightly away from her lips, but she was too eager to please her tormentor. Her tongue snaked out from her mouth and licked the leather shoe. She felt no shame at all about licking the shoe; she needed to come, and she would have done anything to earn Eleanor’s favor.

The shoe moved away, and Virginia felt the press of the dildo against her thighs. The dildo, already covered in her spit and sex, slid away from her thighs and over her wax-splattered buttocks. She felt the tip of the dildo press against her anus, and she cried out triumphantly as it worked its way slowly into her. Her sphincter expanded, stretching to accommodate the long dildo. The length of the dildo disappeared inside her, and she couldn’t have been happier.

Fully penetrated, she whimpered as the dildo ceased moving. She was so close — it couldn’t stop now! She could feel her face flush as the blood rushed to her head. She clenched against the dildo and fought against the hanging ropes in a desperate effort to move it inside her. One thrust, one twist, one anything would be enough to send her over the edge.

The corset walked around in front of Virginia. A blue candle spilled wax on the floor, and she watched in amazement as words formed in the wax. Despite the wonders of the bondage so far, she felt a chill at the communication from the other side.

The words said, “Promise to be my slave.”

“I promise to be your slave,” Virginia gasped.

“Promise to worship me,” the wax read.

“I promise to worship you,” she whined.

“Promise to be mine to the end,” the wax demanded.

“I do,” she said.

The shoe lifted from the floor, and the heel pressed into Virginia’s chest. The sharp heel scratched her very slightly, just enough to let her know it was there. The heel dragged against her skin, and the puddles of wax, ascending between her hanging breasts, moving up her chest, over her belly and between her thighs. The heel brushed over her clitoris, sending shivers through out her body. Rubbing over her pussy lips, the heel stopped at her opening and sank in.

“Oh, God!” Virginia cried out. The high heel sunk into her, but the rest of the shoe lay against her nether lips. The tip of the shoe ground against her clitoris, and she could only vibrate from the bliss she was feeling.

The dildo in her ass began to move as well. It pumped her tight cheeks in a rhythm that complemented the pumping of the heel. One moved in, while the other moved out. Virginia’s mind reeled from the double fucking, and her breathing became labored and loud. This was what she had been craving, and at the simple price of her obedience, she was finally rewarded.