Halloween Hell: Kristy

This story has themes of non-consent, abuse, humiliation and other related kinks. If such kinks offend you, please do not read. This story is an act of FICTION and is not meant as any political or cultural statement. It is meant for enjoyment and should never be done in real life.

“What a bunch of pathetic losers,” I say out loud even if I’m the only one in my house, so my feminine voice carries. I’m currently looking out the front window of my house, looking at all the trick or treaters and other idiots. They all are dressed up in stupid and pathetic looking costumes while congratulating each other for looking so stupid.

I hate Halloween. Hate it with a passion. It’s so stupid. Even as a kid I never got it. If you are going to give me free candy, then just give me free candy. Don’t fucking make me dress up as a princess or whatever to get it. And if I want to go out and get drunk and laid, I don’t need to dress up in a stupid costume. Not to mention I think ghosts and demons and supernatural stuff is complete and utter crap. People that believe in such garbage really need to get a life.

Currently I’m looking at a small group of teenagers that were slowly walking on the sidewalk. They have now stopped and are excitedly talking to each other. Then I watch as they begin to dance. It’s a bad dance too, looking like what a mentally disabled person would think a mosh-pit looks like. It’s here that I realize they are supposed to look like the band Rage Against The Machine but failed horribly. The only reason I figured it out is they are all wearing the band’s merchandise.

“Just ignore them Kristy,” I tell myself and step away from the window. My house is the only one on the street without decorations and without any outside lights on. In fact, I removed all the bulbs from the front of my house yesterday to make sure people know not to come here. Sure, a few idiots still stumbled to my front door in the dark to knock on the door, but I ignored them. Maybe next year I’ll put something slippery on the ground to make sure they fall if they do try to come up.

My perfect Halloween is sitting alone and watching bad Netflix with a good bottle of wine. I know tons of people are going to bars and clubs tonight dressed up in sexy outfits, but that’s not for me. As good as I look, if I want to get laid, I don’t need to be dressed like a schoolgirl or other fetishized object. With beautiful olive skin, long black silky hair and weighing a crisp 115 pounds with DD boobs and a toned stomach, guys practically cum on themselves just looking at me. I look good wearing anything, even a tshirt and jeans.

I fill my wine glass up with the wine bottle that’s on my coffee table. After taking a long sip I put my glass back on the coffee table. On Halloween, this is the only way I can try and relax. Halloween is a day that stupid people feel they can act even stupider and do stupid things they would never dare do because they know how stupid it is.

Then I hear a loud thud and a lot of laughter from outside. Sighing, I turn up the volume on my TV to drown the idiots out. I hate Halloween, just like I hate all the high pitched screams and cries as people scare themselves. Heaven forbid the $20 cheap serial killer costume they purchased makes a kid scared.

This year’s Halloween wouldn’t be so bad if not for my dumb-ass neighbor across the street. You see, he decked out his house in all sorts of Halloween decorations. It looks like a graveyard with tons of spider webs with people chained up and hanged from the trees. Well, not people so much but the remains of people. Everyone has to stop and look at it to marvel at the effort he put in which means they have to hang out by my house and talk, take pictures and annoy me.

Another thud sounds, and it spikes my anger. I stand up and walk to the window, fully meaning to call the cops if I see anything worthy of doing so. When I look out, I see the idiot band still dancing, with one of them on the ground, explaining the thud.

Again, across the street are idiots taking pictures in front of my neighbor’s front yard. This time a mother making her kids act like they are trapped in the long and wide spider webs that go from the tree to the ground. Poor kids look terrified to go in that yard, and I would too. That neighbor barely does any yard work so it’s ugly to look at without any decorations.

What in the? As I look across the street, I spot something that sends a shiver down my spine. There’s a rather strange looking man…staring at me. He’s across the street on the sidewalk, facing me while being perfectly still. He has on a mask that I think is supposed to be a scarecrow mask as his eyes are two huge pools of black.

He stands extremely still looking right at me. Or is he? I can’t really tell because I can’t see his eyes. He’s turned in my direction, but there’s tons of things to look at given his direction.

After thinking about it, I don’t think he is looking at me because I made sure to keep it dark in here so no one can see in. I wanted people to think I wasn’t home. Even my TV is turned so it doesn’t shine towards the window. So no way that guy could see me. But damn, it sure looks like he is.

Sighing again as he is just another loser that takes Halloween too serious, I step back and go to the couch. Why must there be Halloween? It’s just a day of Hell for people like me. People buying dumb crap for a day then forgetting that they have it over the course of the year just to purchase it again next year.

I reach to grab my glass of wine from the coffee table, only it’s not there. Confused by this as I was sure I put it on the coffee table, I look around to see where it is. I always put it on the coffee table because that’s where my coasters are.

I spot it on the end table right next to couch. I shrug at this. The thud sound must have made me do something outside of my normal routine. Reaching for it, I take a long sip, hoping time passes fast tonight. I actually down the rest of it and pour me some more.

I press play on Netflix to resume what I was watching but then have to pause it again when I hear another thud from outside. My anger flashes again as I wish people would stop acting so stupid. This time I grab my cell and unlock it as I am going to call the cops. I’ve been looking forward to doing it too.

Walking to the window, I see a bunch of new teenage boys being stupid and chasing each other. One is on the ground with the others laughing at him while throwing candy on him. That does it. I’ve had enough of them being stupid and enough of the noise.

Not caring if it ruins their night, I dial the non-emergency police number on my cell. Yes, I have it stored in my cell as I call it often. I pay taxes and therefore the police better do their job when I call on them.

Oh. Creepy guy is still there. Only…he’s changed his mask. Instead of a scarecrow, he wears what looks like werewolf mask. But he’s in the same spot, staring at me. It doesn’t even look like he’s moved at all. Has he been standing there the entire time? I mean, like 10 minutes have passed.

I hear soft beeping noises to which I remember I was calling the police. Looking at my cell I see the call didn’t go through. I bring up the contact again and press dial, only it doesn’t go through again. It acts like it will dial, but then beeps a few times and goes back to the main screen after saying that there is no network.

That’s weird. It’s never done that before. As expensive as my cell is, it always has great reception. Even underground and on the subway.

Feeling a bit creeped out, I move away from the window so the creepy guy can’t see me. I walk to the other side of the room and dial again thinking that maybe I need to be in a better spot, but it does the same thing. Just refuses to dial. It’s almost like my cell is being blocked somehow.

As silly as it is, I start to feel that the creepy guy is the one doing it, but I know that’s impossible. That guy is some dumb teenager, most likely, and my provider is just having issues. Stuff like this happens to others all the time.

My entire body jerks and I let out a gasp as I hear another thud, but this time it’s close, real close. Like right outside the window type close.

Panic does want to set in, but I force myself to be calm. After all, all the doors and windows are locked. Even if they were not, the security system would alert me if anyone got in somehow. I’m safe. Inside my house I am safe.

Slowly I walk back to the window. I stared at it for a moment, thinking that the creepy guy might pop out, but he doesn’t. So I carefully walk back, fully expecting to see that group of dumb teens in my front yard. That they were chasing each other and just got too close to my house.

But no. The group is gone. In fact, everyone is gone. Everyone except…him. The guy is still there, in the same exact spot in the same pose. Only now he is wearing a baby’s face mask. I think I saw that mask in a bad horror movie poster once. The guy stands the same, wears the same clothes and keeps looking right in my direction. It’s gone beyond just being a prank. This guy is fully meaning to scare me.

A light bulb goes off in my head and I can’t believe I’m being so stupid. My security system has a button to push that alert the cops directly. All I have to do is press it and they’ll come. I don’t even need my cell.

Feeling very much relieved, I walk to the couch and grab my glass of wine. Needing to feel calm, I drink more than half of it as I’m going to hit the cop-button on the security panel and get the cops here to chase off that creeper guy. Let’s see how creepy he’ll be when he’s getting arrested, the limp-dick, small cock having asshole.

Not meaning to, I down the entire glass of wine. Still needing a bit more, I reach for the wine bottle to refill, only to find it’s not on the coffee table. This sends a wave of cold fear over me as I know it was there. It’s the only place I would have put it. It’s too big to put anywhere else without the chance of falling over.

Looking around I check the end tables, thinking that I moved it without thinking, but no. It’s not on either end table. Not on the coffee table, not on the end tables and not on the floor spilling its contents.

Then I find it and damn near pee myself in fear. It’s on the TV stand, right in front of the TV. It sits there, blocking the screen some with the TV pushed back some to make room for it.

I didn’t put it there. I know that for sure. As I stare at it, I feel my body tense up as cold pinpricks of fear move over me. There’s someone in the house. Oh shit…there’s someone in the house. That’s the only explanation. Someone that’s playing with me and really good at being quiet.

“Wait…” I comment, oddly tasting a weird aftertaste in my mouth. It tastes bad, like cheap medicine. Where did that come from? The only thing I’ve drunk is…the wine.

My eyes widen as I know what’s happened. I figure it out right as I begin to feel the effects. Any new terror I might feel doesn’t get the chance to build, nor do I get a chance to run to the security panel as the effects hit hard. I’ve been drugged. Someone drugged my wine.

Tiredness like I’ve never felt before comes over me. My entire body seems to change from 115 pounds to 1115 pounds as every part of me feels so heavy. With all my might I try to run, but instead I see the floor rising up towards my face. Before I hit, everything goes black.

My eyes start to flutter as I wake up. I come to, only I feel like I just woke up after sleeping for a month. My body is very tired and very stiff and my head is in a major fog. It’s so thick that I can’t even remember what happened or where I am. I barely even know my name.

When my eyes can fully reopen, I get a strange scene of disbelief. I’m not in my bedroom, or even my house. I’m outside. Like, outside, outside. Why? How did I get here?

In front of me is a huge fake spiderweb. It runs as a thick sheet from a large tree to my right towards a tree several feet away to my left. It’s thick, but I am able to see through it, sort of. Looking through it I see a sidewalk, a street and…my house?

Glancing about, I realize I’m standing in my neighbor’s front yard. I’m behind one of his sheets of spider web’s that he’s decorated with. How in the world did I get here?

Confused and just wanting to get back home, I go to move, but am unable. The drugs in my system prevent the fear I feel from overwhelming me as I see my arms are attached to chains and cuffs. My arms are above my head, wrists cuffed to chains that run from a tree branch overhead.

Looking down I receive a huge shock. And it isn’t that my feet are chained and spread either. The shock is that I am NAKED. Completely naked. For I see my bare breasts and shaved womanhood on full display against the backdrop of the dirt and grass. I even feel the cool night air all over my naked body.

I scream. But then I find that my scream doesn’t go anywhere as there’s something in my mouth. I can’t believe I didn’t feel it before, but I guess that’s from the drugs. There’s something forcing my mouth to stay wide open, like painfully wide. When I try to scream, all that happens is my tongue flops about and drool comes out. Feeling the object with my tongue, I discover that it’s a ring gag.

Panicking now as the drugs are truly starting to wear off, I try to pull my arms free. But I can’t. The chains are very taunt and the cuffs are solid steel. I can’t move my arms at all. I’m tied down like a freaking medieval prisoner or something. The same with my spread legs. The only thing I can do is spread them more as the chains otherwise don’t allow any other movement.

Laughter. I hear laughter. Multiple people laughing. Looking around, I realize that people must still be out. The last I knew it was almost 9, so maybe not much time has passed since I was put here. Frantic, I look through the webbing in hopes that someone, anyone can help me.

I see a few couples walking on the sidewalk, looking like they are heading to or heading from a party. Then I even spot a small group standing and talking in front of this house. Thankfully there are no little kids out as everyone looks to be adults.

Seeing help, I try to make as much noise as I can as well as move. I can’t free myself, but maybe I can make the tree shake and someone will spot me. Afterall, I’m just behind webbing, not completely hidden. Surely someone will see me if they hear me or spot the sounds.

For at least a minute, I make all the grunts and sounds I can, while moving as much as I can. My hope starts very high at this, but each second that passes it shrinks as no one notices. They are too busy talking to each other or walking to notice.

“Man, that guy killed it this year,” I hear a man’s voice comment. To this, I see two guys stop in front of the house on the sidewalk. I go into hyperdrive trying to make noise and move as they are not but 8 feet away. All they need to do is look closer at the spiderweb.

“Good girl, make those fat tits bounce,” a voice filled with bass coos into my ear from behind. I instantly stop at this, not ever thinking that the person that did this to me would still be around. And that voice…it’s not human. No one could have a voice that deep. It’s the sort that no recording equipment could pick up.

As the cold fear returns, I see the two men on the sidewalk stop admiring the haunted house and walk away. They walk away, taking my hope with them.

“Trick…or treat?” I’m asked from behind, only it’s not the same voice. It comes from the same location, but now the voice is high pitched. Really high pitched, like he’s trying to sound like a kid. It makes me want to turn and look at the voice’s owner, but I’m far to scared and just stare forward.

“Trick or treat?” The voice asks again and it is asked like a question. Still not moving as I try to think up what to do, he asks it again. And again. It’s clear he wants an answer from me.

I whimper. It’s the only thing I can do. I’m completely helpless, naked and gagged. This bastard is free to do whatever he wants, and there’s nothing I can do about it. So I whimper, hoping there’s some sort of mercy within him. I mean, why is he doing this? Why is he doing this to me?!

“Trick or treat?” He asks again in that questioning tone. It does occur to me that he might get violent or worse if I don’t do as he wants. That if I don’t ask, he may stab me or bash my head in with a brick. With that in mind, I say the first word, or try to, that comes in my head.

“Turreck,” I say softly as I try to say ‘trick.’ The ring gag makes talking all but impossible and I’m not even sure he knows what I said.

Immediately the man presses up against my naked back side to make me grasp. Presses right against me to let me know he’s a huge, brute of a man. Much taller and wider than I am, and from the feel of it, very muscular.

“No! NO!” I try to yell, but instead drool on myself as I see his hands come around. They come around, right in the area of my naked and bare tits.

Only he doesn’t try to grope my breasts even if I am helpless. No. Instead both of his hands hold mean-looking black metallic clamps. His fingers keep them pried open as he brings them closer and closer.

With ease he zeros in on both of my nipples magically. With perfect aim he finds my hard nipples and closes the clamps, allowing them to bite down. The pain hits at once, making me cry out which is barely heard thanks to the gag. The clamps do what they do and bite down hard, making it feel almost like a mousetrap has snapped on my nipples. Dealing with the pain, I shake my head only to make my breasts swing and shake, the black clamps still firmly biting down.

“Trick…or treat?” The man asks after removing his hands and stepping away behind me. I’m left trembling as my poor nipples ache as the clamps feel like they are getting tighter. They now sit straight out as my nipples are hard from the night air and my fear, making them look like extensions of my nipples.

“Trick or treat?” He repeats, letting me know I’m to answer again. My frantic brain tells me not to say trick, as it surely means more pain. And if the clamps are anything to go off of, he doesn’t mind giving me pain.

“Treeeat,” I answer the best that I can and then brace myself for the worst. Instantly a figure steps in front of me, as if there were standing next to me the entire time. It’s so jarring and unexpected that I try and scream.

The man stands steps directly in front of me so close we are touching. So close that I can smell him. Smell a weird smell of dirt, plastic and I think blood.

I then spot his face out of the corner of my eye as I look away. It’s him. The guy with the changing masks. I know recognize the clothes. The guy that stared at me from across the street.

My eyes go very wide as he presses something between my spread open legs. I feel him place it right at the entrance to my pussy as if this is a normal thing to do. Without saying anything or waiting for me to react, he shoves his cock in me.

I go tense as I feel his hard cock slide inside me. I’m shocked to find how wet I am as I thought for sure this would be painful. But no, he easily slides in, his cock being one of the larger ones I’ve ever had. He pushes it in until his body presses against mine completely.

This is truly an odd feeling. One that I don’t think I could ever describe. He’s clothed in what can best be described as a janitor serial killer’s clothes, in which I don’t think it is a costume, while his cock is out. He doesn’t even look down at me with his now clown-looking mask, not even with his cock buried inside me. He stares forward almost like he doesn’t even see me.

He pulls back to slide his cock almost all the way out of me, just to thrust forward. When he does, I let out a small gasping moan as it feels…good. This is truly horrible as I’m being fucked against my will in this horrible position, but it does feel…good. My body is responding, making me want more, as fucked up as that is.

As he starts to fuck me, I am horrified by myself. I can’t be liking this. Just like I can’t be wet. It must be the drugs they gave me. That’s what is doing this to me. The drugs. In fact, maybe all of this is a drugged dream? They are the reason this feels good. Because there’s no way I can enjoy being raped by a serial killer out in public like this.

“Trick or treat?” The high pitch voice asks again, making me realize that there is more than one person as the voice is still behind me. The one fucking me for sure didn’t say it as he just looks forward like a robot as he steadily fucks me.

His cock is stern and steady not to mention hard as a rock as it pumps inside me. He is rough too, ramming against me so hard that my tits bounce. Each thrust makes a disgusting wet sex sound come from my pussy, making me both hope and fear that someone walking by might hear. Might discover this and that I’m being fucked outside by this madman and save me.

“Trick or treat?” The voice asks again, nearly making me break down. Again? I’m being fucked already, isn’t that enough for them? What more could they want? What other torture do they have planned?

“Trrrrrreck,” I answer as I try to say trick, too scared to find out what another treat would be. Immediately the guy behind me presses up against me again, not in the slightest concerned about getting up close and personal with the guy fucking me.

I see the one behind me lift his hands up. I’m scared at first, thinking he’s going to bring them down to hit me, but then I see he’s grabbing at two separate things hanging from the branch.

He grabs two lines of thin brown rope that are hanging from the tree branch. I hadn’t noticed it before because the brown color matched the tree not to mention it’s dark with just red lighting and moonlight to see.

He grabs and pulls, bringing the ropes downward. When he does this, I hear the sound of rope being dragged, which makes me think these ropes must start behind me somewhere. It makes me wonder if he’s planning on hanging me, but no way those ropes could support my weight.

As he lowers both ropes, I see that each one has a small “S” hook tied to the bottom. I can see this clearly as he pulls the rope right in front of my face as he keeps lowering it. It gets close enough to my face that I think he means to put the hooks up my nose or something.

When I see what he means to do, I shake my head NO. Not that this does any good as every other noise I make is a moan as the monster in front keeps fucking me like a robot. Most guys go at different speeds during a session of sex; sometimes fast, sometimes slow, sometimes harder, sometimes gentle, but not this guy. Steadily fast, hard and rough is the only way he knows. Already I feel how my pussy has started to feel raw and rubbed, which is a feeling I always loved after a good fucking. Only I get the feeling this bastard isn’t even close to being done.

I beg and plead though my ring gag as hands attach the “S” hooks to my nipple clamps. The end of the hook slides into a small hole in the clamp, allowing the two to attached perfectly. He’s attached the ropes to my nipple clamps.

The hands are removed and the ropes are pulled, making my tits lift. Lifted is the wrong word, but pulled. The clamps don’t let go of my nipples as they are pulled upward, pulling my tits upward with them. They are partly stretched and lifted as the ropes go up higher, bringing me so much pain as my nipples feel like they might get pulled off. To add insult to injury, the only thing I can really see now are my own raised tits.

“Trick or treat?” The voice asks again and I shriek. Sure, the shriek doesn’t really come out, but I can’t help but scream. Not only am I helpless, naked and being fucked, he’s tied off my tits. And I know he’s going to leave them like this, with the pain of my pinched nipples lifting my heavy breast echoing over me.

“Trick or treat?” He asks again as I keep letting out the gagged shriek sound. For a moment I think I may snap and lose it. That my mind is going to break and I’ll be nothing but a drooling warm body with no mind.

“T-rricckkk,” I say again, still partly screaming as I deal with these intense feelings. I gather that treat is the less painful option, but I don’t know what it would bring. I only have one pussy and I have a bad feeling saying it might mean they do something to other holes, which I don’t want to happen.

A crack is heard, sounding almost like thunder. Then I let out a groan of pain. A sharp pain hits right over my bare ass, making me groan louder as the pain lingers with a sharp edge. The pain is so damn sharp and cruel as it stings with both heat and ice.

Then another crack is heard as I’m stuck again on my ass. It lands perfectly, making both cheeks sting and throb horribly. I let out another gagged scream to this, only to scream into my own damn tits.

I’m being spanked. Well, whipped actually as it’s a belt he’s hitting me with. I try to tense up for the next blow, but the guy fucking me keeps going making it impossible. Just keeps slamming himself into me, making my pussy throb as well as the other whips me.

In the most humiliating and disgusting thing ever in my life, I lower my head to try and hide my face as I cum. Yes…I cum. I felt the orgasm building and fought hard against it, but it’s too late. I’m not able to stop it.

I orgasm from being fucked like this. Orgasm from this rape and abuse. Orgasm as I know help is feet away but I can’t get to it. I orgasm like the whore they have made me into.

Loud moans of pleasure replace my groans and cries. The one behind keeps whipping my ass as I cum, becoming as steady as the guy fucking me. And the fact I feel fucked raw only makes the orgasm burst with new life.

The waves of pleasure roll over me. The waves that contain such pleasure and shame make my body jerk and dance about and as I feel my own tits against my face, my moans are reflected back to me. It’s the most horrible thing ever to orgasm to, and I fucking embrace it.

I cum for at least half a minute while they keep fucking and whipping me. I cum so hard that I burst into tears at the feeling of being so badly violated and enjoying it. My tears come freely out as I feel dirty and nasty, as if they are making me into something sick and perverted. Even as I cry and think how they are changing me, the waves of pleasure still roll over me, as I’m still whipped.

“Trick or treat?” He asks yet again, and this time I just cry. My orgasm has stopped, leaving me feeling worn down, abused and broken. And still the clown-masked man steadily fucks me, going on what, 5, 10 minutes? My pussy is still wet and still gripping his evil cock with him not showing signs of getting tied at all. It’s what I think getting fucked by Jason or Michael would be like.

It’s as I cry that I begin to wonder if these ‘men’ are even human. No man I’ve ever seen could fuck anyone like he’s doing to me. Not to mention how they just feel different to me. They feel…not human.

“Trick or Treat?” He asks again as I cry hard. At least he’s stopped whipping me. Through I think he might have stopped because he hit every single inch of my ass. All of it throbs now and feels swollen. My ass stings like nothing I have ever felt, and I swear I can feel each and every welt because they throb so horribly. It’ll be weeks before I can sit down normal.

“Trick or Treat?” He asks again and again while I’m still being fucked in this inhuman manner. Hearing those words lets me know that there’s no way out of this. They aren’t going to stop until I play their cruel game.

“T-T-Treeeet,” I stammer out, trying to deal with the harsh pain as well as the intense pleasure as my poor pussy is still being pounded savagely. I’m not sure what treat is this time, but I can’t take more pain. I’m scared of what sort of ideas they may have left for pain, I mean trick, so I choose the only other option, not that I want to.

“Noooooo,” I try and say while tears still come. My face is wet with tears, not that they care. For now I feel something hard pushing between my ass cheeks. Something hard that very much feels like a hard cock.

“Nooooo,” I keep protesting weakly as I feel the hard cock press itself right against my ass. Time seems to slow down now. I can actually hear the sounds of a good number of people nearby. Not that I can see any of them, thanks to my own tits being pushed into my face, or the man that is standing in front of me. But there’s people so close that have no idea what they are doing to me. People that think this may just be part of my neighbor’s decor.

I let out a groan as the man, or whatever he is, forces his cock in my ass. I’ve never done anything in that hole and never planned on it either. And now I feel a very thick cock forcing its way into that tight place. For a moment I think that he won’t be able to, that it’s too tight, but that’s laughable as he shoves it in, pressing my walls apart.

Without mercy he shoves it inside me, forcing my ass open. I cry at this as it’s a violation like none other. It hits me on an emotional level, not just a physical one. But the man doesn’t seem to care as he already starts to fuck my ass. He pulls his hips back and forward, having no issue with how tight it might be.

He matches the tempo of the man fucking my pussy perfectly. They sync together and thrust at the same time each time. It makes me feel so strange as I feel their cocks rubbing against my downstairs at the same times, where I feel the pressure of both of them on the other.

My body begins to feel broken as they fuck me like this, making my downstairs abused and used. It’s a powerful feeling to, where I stop crying and just focus on how it feels. It feels sort of like scratching an itch you had, only in a sexual sense. I’m so worn down now that I’ve gone past the humiliation barrier and now can just feel what they are doing.

“Trick or treat?” I hear the voice ask, only it’s to my right and far behind me. This does stun me, but only for a second as the owner’s voice isn’t the one with the cock in my ass. That means there’s at least 3 of them. 3 men in on this rape and abuse. But is it just 3? How many more could there be? But even as I ask this, I seriously doubt that what is happening is anything human.

“Trick or treat?” He asks again but I don’t answer. I can’t answer. My overwhelmed mind only focuses on the feeling of my ass being ravaged while my pussy is fucked. It is a horrible feeling, only there’s something else about it. Something dark and good. Something that I never knew existed. It’s like finding a new part of your own body. I mean, I can feel the walls of both holes press together with both of them thrust into me.

“Treeeaat,” I respond after he asks a few more times. His questions becoming in line with the men’s thrusts, making it that each time they drill into me, I hear that damned phrase.

As I answer, I know another horrible truth; I’m about to cum again. Only this orgasm is going to be intense. I feel the way my clit doesn’t just tingle but vibrates. I feel how my body wants to explode with all that I feel. That it wants to let out all the pain, pleasure, shame and humiliation I feel from having this done to me in such a public setting.

I scream as my hair which is normally silky and sleek but is now matted and sweaty, is yanked hard. My head is pulled back so I’m made to look up at the branch that the chains and rope are tied to. The hand doesn’t let go of my hair either, just keeps holding it in that painful grip which makes me wonder if my hair will come out.

The pain of my hair hurts but there’s something else that I focus on. That’s the fact that I have no idea who is grabbing my hair. I know it’s not the man fucking my ass because I feel his hands on my hips. Only it feels like whomever is doing it is going through the man behind me from the angle of the grip.

My eyes become as big as saucers as I see someone lift something up so I can see it. It’s a broken off piece of branch. It’s small, maybe 3 or 4 inches thick in diameter, but long, like 14 or 16 inches long. It’s held up and twirled a little bit, so I can see all of the thing. It’s for sure a piece of branch, but it looks cleaned and scrubbed.

Are they going to beat me with it? I said treat after all. That means no pain, right? Oh no. I don’t want to be hit with that thing. It’ll hurt. It’ll do real damage. It’ll possibly end me.

Then it happens. Happens so fast that I don’t even react. The branch is put in my mouth as if it was a cock. Just slides into the ring gag and goes in, where I can taste the earthy taste of wood and dirt right on my tongue.

The man moves it up and down now as my hair is still held. I feel the branch, which is smooth as it has no bark, move over my tongue. On purpose he angles it so it moves right on my tongue to make me feel and taste it. Then he starts to push more as he fucks my mouth, making it go to the back of my mouth.

They are making me perform oral on a branch. I’m giving a blowjob to a fucking piece of wood. I can see now what they are really doing, which is to make sure all holes of mine are used.

Never has anything like this happened. And in a strange turn of events, I stop fighting. I let them fuck my pussy and ass like they are. I even push my head forward as the branch comes down as if it was a cock to suck. I even hear the familiar wet gag sound I make as it goes deep inside my mouth to the point it’s in my throat. I deep throat the thing to be the sick whore they are making me into.

“Trick or treat?” The man asks me again. Hearing it is what sets me off. I cum. I cum and release that horrible intense orgasm I knew was building.

Everything boils together and my body feels like it is 300 degrees. Heat comes off of me so much that I wonder if I’ll burn the cocks that are inside of me.

My moans become screams, loud ones too, but it’s all gagged with the branch in my mouth. A branch. A freaking branch. It’s in my mouth, and like a whore I’m sucking it hard, even if I don’t have a choice due to the ring gag.

Waves of pleasure begin small and faint, but quickly burst into huge and intense. They start slow but increase rapidly. Soon my body starts to react without any choice. It bucks about uncontrollably as my eyes roll almost behind my head. Dark pleasure engulfs me like the night does the earth.

The waves are by far the most intense feeling I’ve ever felt. So intense and powerful that I wonder if I’m having some sort of pleasure seizure. I can’t think and I am barely holding onto consciousness as I feel all threes holes being violated with the waves amp’ing the feeling. It feels like my body might burst from all that I feel.

Then it feels like I peed myself, but I know I hadn’t. I know because I know the feeling and also because what I feel is in both holes down there. The feeling of warmth spreading into me, going deep inside me. So deep it feels like it reaches my stomach.

Oh no. Oh me. They came. They came inside me. Both of them, at the same time.

Only they don’t stop fucking me. The warmth of their cum spreads inside me and even moves downward, but they don’t stop fucking me. If anything, it acts like lube as they keep doing that inhuman steady pace. But now I know there’s cum in me. Cum that could do damage as I’m not on the pill.

This last bit sends my orgasm over the edge and I black out. The peak of pleasure is too much for me to take. My mind just snaps as I know I’ll hear “Treat or Trick” all night long, where they will never stop and use me like a pop-up sex toy.

“Hey, hey,” I hear someone saying. A moment later, I feel someone slapping my face. Repeatedly slapping one cheek, then the other. They don’t slap hard, but it’s still not fun.

“Treat! Treat!” I say at once, finding that I’m no longer wearing the ring gag. My jaw and lips are painfully sore from being kept open like it was, but now I can close my mouth.

Opening my eyes, I find that I’m still in my neighbor’s yard. And I’m still naked and chained. Everything feels foggy and I try to remember what happened. I’m extremely tired and weak, making it as if I was drugged again.

“Hey, lady, come on now,” I hear an upset voice say. That’s when I see that two cops are in front of me. They both look at me while one shines a flashlight on my face. Both have stern looks on their face as if not happy with me.

“Oh thank you, thank you for saving me,” I say as relief floods into me. It’s over. It’s really over. To make sure, I turn my head around, checking to see if any creepers in masks are around. Thankfully no. Just the two cops. Two cops…and a lot of on-lookers.

“I know it’s Halloween, but you can’t do stuff like this,” the cop on the right says angrily. Hearing this confuses me and takes me a moment to really process it as all I can think about is how raw my pussy and ass are. Dear me, it’s going to take months for them to heal.

“W-What?” I ask. The cop talking reaches up to grab the cuff holding my right wrist. With ease he opens it, revealing it not to be metal at all, but plastic. The cuff and chain are made of cheap plastic, looking as if they came from a dollar store. In shock I pull on my left hand, and it comes out of the plastic fake cuff easily.

“W-Wait a second. T-T-These weren’t…” I begin to say, remembering how hard I pulled to get out of them earlier. I pulled with all my strength and they didn’t have any give. What’s going on?

“Fucking perverts man. Every damn Halloween some shit like this goes down. Aren’t there clubs and shit for sick people that want this?” The cop complains to his partner, who simply shakes his head in disgust.

“What? No! There were men, multiple. They took me here…forced me,” I try to explain but am noticing more and more that doesn’t make sense. Like that there’s no clamps on my tits any longer nor are they being lifted up. Nor are there ropes hanging from the branch overhead. But my poor nipples ache horribly, showing that they were abused.

Also, there’s no chains on my ankles. Not even the toy plastic type. But when I look at my ankles, I see the cuts from where the cuffs dug into me. It’s clear that I was cuffed, but am no longer. It just doesn’t make any sense.

Again the sense that something not right happens hits me. That those men weren’t really men. That they were some sort of supernatural…thing. I mean, all of this just doesn’t make any sense. What else could it have been?

It’s now I realize that I’m naked in front of strangers. Neighbors and other onlookers have gathered all around to see what’s going on. And unlike before, the fake spider webs have been pulled down and destroyed, making it very easy to see me.

I bring one arm to cover my breasts and the other to cup my womanhood. Even touching my pussy makes me groan as it’s been fucked so hard, so I have to hold my hand out a bit.

“Lady, don’t tell me about whatever sick orgy you had. You know having public sex of any type is ILLEGAL,” the cop says, very angry and annoyed. Even his face has turned a bit red as if he’s having to hold back screaming at me.

My fear starts to come back but not from the thought that those men will return to keep fucking me, but from the way the scene looks. The cops think that I did all this. That I came out here naked and did whatever sex act. That I went to my neighbor’s yard of all places to be fucked as some sort of Halloween themed kink.

My arms cling to my body to try and hide as much as I can of myself and the crowd around is growing in size. The cops have their car lights on, so the entire fucking street sees the flashing red and blue, which acts like a lure for everyone. They all want to see what happened.

Everyone is looking at me. Most are shaking their heads much like I did earlier tonight when looking at all the idiots. Shaking their heads as they think that I’m some sort of sick freak. The ones that don’t shake their heads hold big, wide smiles as if thinking they’ll have a chance with me now if I do thinks like this. But as I look over the crowd, none of them is the man in the mask.