Fiction: House of Tremors

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

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

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

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

“Read on, mortals.”


~~~


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

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

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

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

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

“Just me,” she said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kiss the Mummy.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She couldn’t wait to see what happened next.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Vampire smiled.  Fanged teethed sparkled at her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Go, before others come,” he said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Frankenstein nodded.  Inarticulate moans came from the gag.

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

The Frankenstein whimpered.  The eyes grew wider.

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

Frankenstein moaned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Flash your tits at the werewolf.”

“We’ll see,” Kalea said out loud.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No panties past this point.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She thought about her panties decorating the wall.

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

She thought about Frankenstein’s cock in her hand.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Enough,” she said a moment later. 

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

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

“Be sure to come back next year.” 

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll catch your souls, later.”

Fiction: Jenny Two-Bags

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

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

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

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

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

“Read on, mortals.” 
  


~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She walked closer to the men.

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

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

Jenny walked closer to them. 

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

Jenny’s body twitched.

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

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

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

The boys laughed.  Her embarrassment turned to something darker.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jenny came to the bed.  The man noticed her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She couldn’t answer. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Holy shit,” he giggled. 

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

“Oh God you are beautiful,” Martin moaned.

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

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

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

Slowly she impaled herself until he was completely inside her. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

She let out a scream of pleasure.

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

“Jesus mother-fucking Christ!” Martin yelled. 

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

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

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

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

She was uglier than ever.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“DROP THE KNIFE AND GET DOWN ON THE GROUND!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Years passed by.

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

College kids continued to behave badly.

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

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

Jenny Two-Bags put it on . . .

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fiction: Action News Dead!

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Read on, mortals.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yes, Ariel, I do.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Elizabeth!  Remember that we’re live!

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

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

BLEEP you, Ariel!

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

Fiction: A Nightmare of Tits and Thighs

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

“Flee now before your genitals become haunted!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Read on, mortal.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come,” she whispered. 

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

“Please me,” Mrs. Feen whispered.

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

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

“Do it,” Mrs. Feen whispered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The canyons parted.  I could breathe again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you want?” Mrs. Feen asked. 

“I want to fuck your tits,” I said.

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

“Do it,” she whispered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Keep fucking,” Mrs. Feen commanded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



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

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

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

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

Fiction: Monster in her Bed

“Greetings mortals!  It is me, Suckubeth, the demon who is drunk on semen.  With me as always is my Flaming-Skull-on-a-Stick companion, Burny.”

“Help! Destroy my corporeal form so that this everlasting torment will end!”

“Ah, Burny, he’s always kidding around.  Welcome readers to a month long ordeal of lust, fear and climaxes.  I have been summoned from the 69th circle of damnation to entertain you with stories all this month.  Normally I would demand your very soul as well as a face-sitting before I shared such decadent stories but I am running a special this month.  You get five stories for free and once you are hooked, we’ll negotiate the sixth.”

“Don’t fall for it!  Your soul might end up as an anal toy for a chronic masturbator!”

“Hush, Burny.  Today’s story is a devious debacle of a degenerate descent I like to call, ‘Monster in her Bed’.”

“No, not that one!  That story will corrupt and melt their minds for sure!”

“Silence, Burny!  As for you mortal voyeurs, read on.”

~~~

Valerie Vrice waited in her bed.  The wind howled outside.  Thunder cracked in the distance.  A cold draft came down the fireplace and the fire almost went out.  It was a frightening night indeed.

She was waiting for the monster.  He was downstairs in the library at the moment.  He was reading books of ancient lore that escaped the Church’s fires centuries ago.  The monster was obsessed with several tomes wrapped in purple leather and written with ink made from disgusting body functions.  The monster would read until midnight and then he would come for her.

The monster was her husband, Leo Vrice. 

Valerie sighed and pulled the sheets tighter around her.  Leo hadn’t always been a monster.  It was this cursed house.  He inherited this mansion from an uncle that he barely had any contact with.  They had come to look at the mansion before they sold it.  It was supposed to just be a weekend visit.

The first night sealed their fate.  Leo had discovered the secret door in the dining hall that led to a library.  The library was huge.  It had shelves that reached up to the ceiling and was crammed with books.  Leo was delighted to discover such an unexpected find.  He insisted on staying and cataloging them all himself.  He had become obsessed. 

Valerie loved books but these volumes of decadent knowledge were repellent.  There were wood engravings of people doing disgusting things with all sorts of plants, wine bottles and each other.  There were complex books detailing sinful revelations about the fornications of angels behind heavenly gates.  Sometimes, Valerie was sure that the books were whispering things to her; dirty shameful things.  It made her tremble to hear such things.

There was a creak outside the bedroom door.  Valerie waited but the door didn’t open.  It wasn’t her husband; it was just the noises of the house.

Valerie shivered despite the heat of the fireplace.  She remembered the first night that Leo had come to bed a changed man.  He had been reading all day; skipping meals and ignoring his shaving.  Leo finally come to bed at midnight and was in such an amorous mood that Valerie consented to his touches.

What touches they were!  He always liked to grab her breasts but now he squeezed and fondled her in such a way that her nipples became as hard as stones.  He kissed her neck in such a way that she would swoon but then he would bite down hard with a relentless cruelty.  Instead of just slipping his manhood into her lady parts, he took the tip of his manhood and rubbed it against her until she was almost begging him to enter her.

And the things he whispered!  That was not her Leo that used such filthy words.  No, her Leo never used words like cunt, tits, fuck, dick, rutting or fuck.  Her Leo would never compare her to a cat in heat, a seaside whore or a cock hungry slut.  Those were just the things that Valerie could remember.  Most of what he said was too disturbing to remember!

Valerie moaned in the lonely bedroom as she thought of that ordeal.  The next morning, Leo was completely different.  He was quiet and almost in a daze.  Valerie didn’t mention the night before out of pure shame.  She thought that his behavior might be a one night aberration.

The second night proved her wrong.  At the stroke of midnight, Leo came to their bed with so many impure thoughts. 

First he went between her legs and kissed her where in her most intimate places.  Not only did he kiss her there, but he also licked, nibbled and ravished her.  Valerie was powerless as Leo ate her until she could take no more.

Valerie looked at the fire as she remembered that night.  Leo’s eyes were as red as the embers in the fire place.  Her juices dripped from his chin as he smiled at her.  That was when she knew that Leo was possessed.  Something terrible had taken him.

His face still wet from his sinful administrations, he made love to her.  His manhood entered her and Valerie knew pleasures that she had never imagined.  Every thrust made her cry out and every inch of his manhood brought her pleasure.

The next morning, Leo was back to normal.  He looked exhausted but that was to be expected after two nights of debauchery.  Valerie had suggested that the leave the mansion but he refused.  There were too many books to study.

That was a month ago.  Every single night, Leo came to bed with new perversions but it wasn’t her husband.  Valerie had been doing her own research.  She found out about Lord Peter Vrice who used to own the mansion.  She read how the villagers had killed him for seducing all of their wives, husbands and some of their livestock.  Valerie had found the paintings in the attic that showed Lord Vrice and his uncanny resemblance to her husband.  Valerie knew that somehow the ghost of Lord Vrice had possessed her poor kind gentle husband.

The clock struck twelve.  A tremble went through Valerie.  Before the clock had stopped ringing, the bedroom door opened.

It was Leo.  He had grown a beard this past month that was the same exact beard in Lord Vrice’s painting.  He was missing his shirt and was carrying a cruel looking whip.  The evil red eyes of Lord Vrice looked out from Leo’s face.

“Cock slut,” he groaned.  “Tonight I will teach you pleasures of the whip and the art of my cock in your virgin ass!” 

Valerie squealed in terror.

Leo walked ever so slowly closer, his manhood pushing against his pants with vulgar intent.

Valerie screamed as he ripped the sheets from her body.  Her pale negligee would give her no protection against the whip.  That is if Leo just doesn’t rip it from her body.

Leo laughed and then moaned.  He closed his eyes and when he opened them, the red fire was gone. 

“Darling!” Leo said.

“Is that you my love?” Valerie asked.

“Yes,” Leo said.  He dropped the whip and sobbed.  “Oh Valerie, it has been terrible!  Lord Vrice is taking over my mind!   He is getting stronger every night!  Soon he will be so strong that he will be in control all of the time!   It is those blasted pornographic books!  Quick my darling!  Burn the books now before I lose control!”

Valerie looked up at him with terrified eyes.  Without saying a word, she reached for his pants and pulled the zipper.  His hard manhood pointed at her.

“No, darling!” Leo cried.  “What are you doing?”

Valerie ignored his question and took his manhood into her mouth.  She relaxed her throat the way that Leo had taught her on the fourth night in this mansion.  Her manhood disappeared down her lips, past her tongue and down her throat.

“Oh sweet Jesus,” Leo moaned.

Valerie shuddered at the blasphemy.  She also sucked as hard as she could until her cheeks caved in around his manhood.  She took a handful of her long black hair and used it to cup his family jewels.  Her fingers rubbed her soft hair against the sensitive flesh of his balls.

“I’m . . .losing . . .control,” Leo moaned.

Valerie moved her head.  Back and forth she sucked the length of Leo’s manhood.  Her breasts swung with the fierceness of her movements.  She was a whore sucking for a penny.  She was a slut with unnatural appetites.  She was a woman with no shame left in her. 

“Darling . . .no,” Leo gasped.

Valerie released her hold on his balls and placed her hand on the shaft of his manhood.  She pulled her mouth away and opened her lips.  Valerie looked Leo in the eyes as she stroked his manhood.  Her tongue licked the head of his manhood as an invitation for his seed.

“No, no, no, FUCK!” Leo moaned.

Leo’s eyes flashed red.  Hot seed splashed onto Valerie’s tongue.  She swallowed it and quickly struck her tongue out for the next load.  The monster growled as she swallowed every drop.

“Very good my cunt slave,” he said and it was with Lord Vrice’s voice.  “It won’t spare you from my whip or my cock in your ass, but you did very good.  I don’t think Leo will be bothering us again.”

Valerie trembled in delighted terror.

~~~

“What a lovely story to begin Halloween with!  Remember ladies, if the man you love is in danger of becoming a nice guy, suck his cock.  It works every time.”

“Or consider attending couples therapy for your mutual satisfaction!”

“That’s nonsense, Burny!  Stick with the oral sex, readers.  Guys, it works on good girls too!

“That is all I have for now but join us next week for another pants dampening story.  I’ll catch your souls, later.”

*Suckubeth's physical manifestation was provided by the always awesome Joe Gravel*