Once again, readers, it becomes apparent that I can’t do anything by halves. Please enjoy this year’s Halloween contest entry! If you like it, drop me a vote, a review, or a line. And have a gloriously spooky season!
“Calling all freaks, ghoulfiends, and creatures of the night! Visit the hottest Halloween house on the block- Howling Haunts Hall, located at 66 West 6th Street. Sensational spooks! Macabre monsters! Frights galore to send chills down your spine and infest your dreams. Open now through All Hallow’s Eve, from midnight to the death-knell of the witching hour- 4 AM. Face your fears and walk away… changed. Howling Haunts Hall- We don’t stop until you’re screaming! Buy tickets today at HHH Halloween dot com! That’s Triple H Halloween dot com!
(Guests 21 and up ONLY are invited to attend. Weak stomachs and weak hearts- stay home.)”
The radio’s jabbering faded out, and some ad for a plumbing service kicked in; a much softer, less noticeable broadcast than the one preceding it. Betsy only tuned in because it seemed to rouse her from concentration, specifically.
She felt the goosebumps crawl up her neck.
The envelope on her desk, unbelievably filled with six free tickets to that very attraction, sat in plain view within reach. Every so often she couldn’t help taking them out of the white paper pocket and fanning them across the wood. What a lucky strike! Competition in the office contest at her ad agency had been fierce, with people snapping up raffle tickets like hotcakes. There were a lot of tempting prizes, and half of the money was being donated to a children’s hospital for Halloween goodies, so it was a great excuse to spend twenty bucks. Betsy just hadn’t expected to win anything, much less the top prize.
Six tickets to the most popular and talked-about haunted attraction of the year. Anyone she knew who’d been had said it was both a pants-wettingly scary haunted house, and straight-up life-changing. A friend of a friend at a party the week before swore up and down they’d had a massive fear of spiders walking into the place, and came out totally cured- but they wouldn’t say what the place was like or how it happened.
“You just have to go and see for yourself,” the acquaintance told her mysteriously.
Betsy definitely wanted to go and had ever since she heard about it, but the ticket prices were kind of outrageous. 80 bucks a pop! Even though it had rave reviews and was said to be an intensely immersive experience well worth the money, she was barely saving anything right now and didn’t have that much for a splurge.
Winning the tickets was such a thrill, and she had the people to go with. Already her roomies and a couple of friends from her building had jumped at the chance, and she’d booked them a timeslot on Halloween night (long after the trick-or-treaters would be in bed) with no early morning the next day.
No stress, no worrying over whether she should put in for that promotion to Creative Director, giving Dave some well-deserved competition. A night she could really cut loose.
Yes. That’s what she needed.
That, and a costume that would allow her to let her hair down, whether metaphorically or literally. Betsy looked down at her pantsuit, nicely tailored and in a soft heather gray with a lilac blouse, but it was so demure. So blah. She wanted something new and exciting, if only for a night. Thank God for Halloween, really… it was the one night you were allowed to be somebody else. Something new.
The week couldn’t pass fast enough.
While Betsy ground out the days writing copy and pitching ideas for staging, lighting, music, and arrangement, her friends too lived their ‘normal’ nine-to-five lives. Her roommates, Mandie and Todd, carried on with their regular gigs in a bougie butcher shop and real estate agency (respectively), eagerly anticipating the evening of scares to come. Donna, the favorite downstairs neighbor, worked her days at the lathe, her mind deliberating for hours on horror fun. She loved anything that got the heart pumping. Also a big horror buff, so being invited by Betsy was a dream come true.
The next-door neighbors and other solid friends in the building were Artie and Riley, roommates themselves. Artie did freelance writing for a humor site, and Riley was the manager and curator of a local art gallery. Both of them had jumped at the chance to join in on the trip. This was Betsy’s movie night, DND campaign, and poker game crew- ready to ride or die!
Halloween Evening- Approaching showtime
The slow crawl to Halloween ended with a drizzle and gave way to crisp, clear fall weather on that Saturday, praise be. The streets were bustling with costumed figures, and most everyone had decorations up. Kids in the apartment building trick-or-treated door to door up and down the halls, but that always died down by nine. Betsy and her roomies spent the day handing out candy, looking forward to the night. They relaxed and got takeout together for dinner, watched a couple scary movies, and then agreed to meet up with the others downstairs for an Uber to the event.
“I am SO excited for this!” Mandie hummed to her best friend as the two of them got ready, doing make up in the bathroom of their apartment while Todd dressed in his and Mandie’s bedroom. The couple- high school sweethearts who Betsy had known for years- were going dressed as a doe and stag, with antlers, tails, and woodland colors all matched up. Mandie was giving herself a full face in cream and tan, compete with freckles and a little black button deer nose painted on the tip of her own.
Betsy was grinning wide, her hair up in a chignon. Sparkles glittered over each eyelid in silver-blue, with coral pink lipstick to complement. Both women planned to get dressed once their details were finished, and the entire group was to meet downstairs at one. According to the website, the group would need to fill out waivers and stuff prior to entering, and early arrival was suggested. Their timeslot at the house was booked for 2 AM, and the description online estimated up to two hours to enjoy the attraction in full.
“Me too,” Betsy gushed, delicately applying her mascara. “I’ve been needing a break from all the stress at work, and I can’t believe I won the biggest prize in the raffle! I never win any of that shit!”
“Still chewing on whether or not to put in for that promotion, huh?” Mandie elbowed her gently.
“Yeah… it would mean more work but more reward, and I’d really love to rub it in Dave’s smug-ass face.”
“So go for it!” The delicate deer encouraged her friend. “You deserve it. Everybody says how good your work is.”
“I know, I know.” Busty Betsy sighed. She huffed a breath and put her hands on her (wide) hips, pausing to check her look. “I’ll think about it more this weekend, after tonight, and if I go for it, I go for it Monday.” The woman nodded, then bent forward to the mirror again. Adding a few finishing touches, she said “Let’s just go out, forget all about work and have some fun!”
“Fuck yeah!” Mandie exclaimed, and they exchanged a high-five.
Minutes later they emerged from the bathroom to get dressed and to do Todd’s deer makeup afterward. Betsy stepped in to her short, tight, and low-cut princess dress, slipped into a pair of glittery shoes she would walk in for a few hours, and pinned a tiara into her hair. Time for final touches- long silky white opera gloves and a shimmering wrap to keep out the autumnal chill. Hopefully her thick stockings would keep her legs warm while they were outside.
When she exited her room, Mandie and Todd were waiting. Her bestie, clothed in clinging brown leggings and a furry dress with a white tummy and spotted brown back, fluffy tail perched on her butt, fussed over Todd’s makeup and antlers. He was wearing brown furry pants and a shirt much like his girlfriend’s dress, printed to look like the elegant king of the forest he was pretending to be. His getup was more masculine, his colors darker and less form-fitting. Mandie’s antlers were smaller and had flowers on them. Todd’s were thick and stood taller.
“You guys look great,” Betsy giggled. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were a couple.” Todd rolled his eyes and Mandie huffed.
“Could be worse,” Todd said flatly. “We almost bought the ‘Peanut Butter and Jelly’ costumes.”
“Oh shut it! You were right; they were goofy. This is so much cuter.” She went back to preening him, and Todd groaned.
Was there perhaps a little tension in Todd? Some kind of exasperation? Betsy shook her head and decided to stop poking the bear. “C’mon, let’s head downstairs. It’s almost time, and Donna texted to say she’s already called for the Uber.”
The couple grabbed their things and followed the short-skirted princess down to the elevator.
“Um, wow,” the man behind her muttered, and there came a small whump, accompanied by a grunt. “What? It’s just that Betsy looks… really great. Different. It’s nice.”
“I was trying something new,” the woman said, keeping her tone mild. “Appreciate the… support, Todd.” She could practically feel Mandie glaring.
“Yeah! That’s right,” the panicked dude jumped on his friend’s words to smooth things over with his affronted girlfriend. “Betsy never steps outside her comfort zone. It’s a surprise, but a good one.”
“Well, yeah,” Mandie said. Betsy knew without looking that her arms would be crossed over her chest, and she’d be pouting. “Like, damn babe, you look fine for sure. You’ve got a killer figure. Killer enough that you got my boyfriend to drool all over you.”
“I’m sure he’s just surprised,” Betsy countered. “It’s Halloween!” As they entered the elevator, the buxom one winked and grinned at her roomies, turning kinda awkwardly to punch the ground-floor button. “Trick or treat, right?”
They both gave a chuckle, shrugging.
“Yeah, trick or treat.”
The elevator descended, opening on the downstairs lobby in short order. Two figures stood together, waiting and chatting. It was late, so pretty much only the security guard and a few stray night owls moved at all through the space. Their two costumed friends stood starkly out. No one else looked as though they were ready to go out at this hour- everyone else was definitely coming in from parties or events. Betsy’s group waved, then joined the others- making them five.
“Hey,” Artie greeted, his face painted bright brown with lines and whorls in black, making his skin look textured. He wore a black top hat with leaves poking out beneath, and what looked like a branch attached to his head. Underneath he wore a black, old-fashioned suit. Something antiquey. And he was… some kind of tree-man? Riley, his roommate, was also dressed in a very vintage-styled suit, but different. 20s or 30s gangster for sure.
Mandie, Todd, and Betsy greeted their friends.
“Yo, we’re ready to roll,” Todd said, grinning. “Where’s Donna?”
“Just texted,” Riley replied, looking at their phone. “She’s coming down now, or will be in a hot second.”
“Great costumes,” Mandie greeted, stepping into the circle. “But obviously they’re more specific than I’m getting. Riley, where did you get this suit? It looks better than any of the stuff at the Halloween stores.”
“I had to scour thrift shops and vintage boutiques to find it,” Riley told them eagerly. “I based the look on old photos of ‘Bugs’ Moran, a bootlegger and rival to Al Capone in the twenties. He had these patterned ties.” The one Riley was wearing had thick stripes at an angle across it.
“You look like you’re going to a funeral,” Betsy told Artie. “But I don’t get the face paint. A tree in a suit?”
“Well, I’m in mourning,” their friend, the “goofy”, “funny” one told them, gesturing at the attire. Black tailcoat, black cravat knotted expertly around his throat. Crisp white shirt, black suit pants, black shoes. The rest of the group nodded along. “And I’m a tree. So I’m made of…” still smiling toothily, waving his hand over and over in a circular motion, trying to lead them along.
“Wood?” Mandie blurted, catching on faster than the peasants in the witch-hunting scene of Monty Python and the Holy Grail. “Mourning… wood?”
Dead silence fell for a split second, and then everybody groaned while Artie cracked up. Todd gave him a playful punch on the shoulder while facepalming, and the others booed.
As their reactions all died down, Artie was still chuckling and wiping a tear of amusement from his eye. The elevator dinged; the group turned and waited to see their final member emerge, and when the doors opened…
Donna had told none of them what her costume was, so none of them were expecting a very realistic looking Freddy Kruger to be posed menacingly behind the sliding doors as they slowly opened.
“How sweet,” Donna gargled, doing her best scratchy imitation of the actor in his iconic role, “fresh meat!” The famous claws were up and out, and everyone yelled in surprise at first, until Donna walked out into the lobby cackling in her normal voice.
“Ohh you guys should see your faces!” She laughed, holding her stomach as she came forward. “So I nailed it? The makeup? The outfit and accessories?”
“It’s so real,” Betsy affirmed, impressed. “How long did this take?” She reached up but didn’t quite touch the painstakingly-constructed puckers and burns of ruined ‘flesh’ that gave quite the reasonable facsimile of the horror icon.
“Hours,” her friend answered. “I prepped as much as I could ahead of time and spent the entire afternoon and evening working on it. Left the candy outside for the kids so I wasn’t constantly interrupted.”
“Smart,” Riley nodded.
A chiming noise popped up on Donna’s phone, and she pulled it out with her ungloved hand. The other had the claws.
“Uber’s about to pull up. We should step outside.”
The group moved, chattering excitedly. A car came shortly thereafter- large enough for all six to pile in. Artie took shotgun, and everyone else filled two bucket seats and a back bench, celebrating their trip. The driver greeted them in a Crypt Keeper mask plus getup, and the ride to the attraction was very merry indeed.
“Anyone else heading out to this thing tonight?” Betsy asked, next to Mandie and Todd in the back.
“Oh yeah,” the driver laughed. “There and back. All of them just like you- going in full costume, excited as fuck, and they come out bedraggled, exhausted- but everybody said it’s an unbelievable time.”
This proved to heighten their anticipation, and by the time they arrived, fisting their tickets tight, the place was lit up. People were standing outside, gawking or hanging out, emerging shaky, and the energy in the air was palpable. One thing there didn’t appear to be? Disappointed faces. That was heartening.
The Uber pulled up on the street directly in front of the box office, and the group split the bill and added a modestly generous tip. They spilled onto the sidewalk, and the Crypt Keeper took off- down the road to pick up the patrons leaving the very same haunted house.
Moments later, the six friends were inside checking in with their reservation, tickets in hand. Each was given a clipboard with some paperwork to read over and sign and they settled in to finish this up before they would be allowed inside.
Welcome to Howling Haunts Hall! It began, upbeat. Wouldn’t stay that way.
You are about to enter an immersive “haunted” experience designed to test you in ways you never expected. To bring your innermost fears to the surface and make you confront them. You may walk in casually, thinking you’ll have a few hours of harmless fun that will get the blood pumping and the heart racing, and it will.
However, it is our goal that when you walk out, you won’t be the same. You’ll be something beyond. Someone more whole.
In this haunt, you can expect to confront gore, terrifying monsters, creatures, demons, entities, and other deep-rooted fears personified and made Real. You may be touched, disoriented, lost. You will struggle, cry, plead, beg, and suffer. Most importantly, you will scream. The fun doesn’t stop until you’re screaming and well satisfied with this attraction. Good luck.
Following the intro, a list of questions. Some pretty obvious, “standard” things about physical and mental health, heart conditions, phobias, and stuff like that. But there were a few unusual queries on the list, with space to fill in answers beneath.
“Would you consider yourself a ‘thrillseeker’?” Donna muttered, half to the group, half to herself as she pored over the list.
“Do you have any unfulfilled or unrecognized ambitions?” Betsy read aloud, wondering why this type of question was here.
“Any unsatisfied desires?” Artie continued, his voice tight and breathy.
“How do you feel about being pushed to your physical and mental limits?” Riley said next, tilting their head to one side.
“Do you fear being exposed to your own flaws and weaknesses?” Todd and Mandie read together, out of sync and harmony with each other.
The group exchanged looks all around, mirth suddenly dampened by the reality of what they were about to go through. Silence fell as they filled out their questionnaires and read over the waivers. The attraction promised no serious harm would befall them, but that they may experience intense physical, emotional, and mental challenges through the scares. Gore was expected, as was plenty of terrifying actors in full costumes and makeup. There were final warnings and a consent form.
Every single one of them signed it.
2 AM
The groups outside turned out to be other reservations, waiting to be called in.
Once the six had finished their forms, they were ushered outside with wristbands exchanged for their tickets, and each of them clutched a glowstick, their only allowed source of light. All cell phones and personal effects (including Donna’s Freddy Kruger claws) had been surrendered until the end of the experience.
After waiting fifteen minutes, it was their turn to go inside. Betsy and her crew were ushered to the doors, then split into a staggered line. They were entering in pairs but warned they may not be staying that way. Donna and Betsy were sent in first; after one last glance back at their friends and a thumbs-up, they were pushed through the doors. The other two pairs (Riley and Artie, followed by Mandie and Todd) would be staggered three minutes apart.
The two women, scary and sexy, entered a dark hall and the door slammed shut behind them. It was pitch black, and they held their glowsticks aloft just to see where they were going. All that stretched before them was the hall, and as they crept tentatively forward, there was… silence.
“Is this it?” Donna dared ask in a whisper, after they’d gotten about halfway forward across creaking floors in the corridor. No breathing, no footsteps, nothing. Both were expecting a jump scare by now. “There’s nothing down here yet.”
“It’s got to be just the initial passage. Once we reach the end I bet you somebody will leap out at us, probably with a chainsaw.” They kept walking, and there was obviously a door on the end. Their steps eased, and they began walking more normally, instead of clumped together.
Still, something was weird. The further they got, the narrower the hallway seemed. The women wound up having to move single-file just to get to the door, and it was Betsy who ultimately laid a hand on the knob to turn it.
It opened forward to an absolutely blinding light, and a gust of cold air.
Both women wound up through it in a blink, and vaguely heard it slamming behind them. All they could see for several seconds was white– the kind of sterile halogen lighting that you’d find in hospitals, but just everywhere. There didn’t appear to be anyone or anything else in the surrounding ‘room’, or wherever the hell they’d wound up. As Betsy opened her mouth to speak, she felt a rush of movement and heard a whoooooosh that deafened her. She whisked around, but Donna’s presence seemed to have vanished. The glowstick was completely overwhelmed by the white light, and she staggered forward without knowing which way or where she was going.
Someone or something urged her onward, and the floor was surprisingly smooth beneath her feet as she took each step. She had no idea how the fuck long she fought to get the hell out of the lightbox that was this room, and when she tried calling Donna’s name it was like the sound got swallowed up.
There was a firm but polite shove at her back, and something popped, causing the lights to finally dim. A shape emerged ahead of her, and Betsy lurched for it.
She felt a hand, covered entirely in a cool, plastic surface, close upon her wrist.
Donna, meanwhile, had been shocked at the sudden transition of darkness to extremely bright light and closed her eyes reflexively, stepping forward and causing the door to shut behind her. Betsy gave a cry and jolted from her side, and then everything fell dark. Donna opened her eyes. She was somehow alone, and the lights were gone. Turning a tight circle in place, the astonished horror fanatic could not tell where the fuck her friend had gone.
All around her was this… ‘woodsy’ scene. Like small, choked indoor forest? ‘Trees’ created a boxy space around her, more or less camouflaging the walls. Above, the ceiling had been painted dark, and lights installed to look like stars. There was no moon. The prickles above offered no significant light to see by, but ahead there was a structure. As Donna approached, gritting her teeth, she held the glowstick up. Bathed in neon green there appeared to be a derelict porch of some kind, and further, a looming building.
“Pretty sophisticated for an indoor haunted house,” she muttered. Once more searching for Betsy, Donna paused. There was no one, like the short-skirted Cinderella had just been dropped through a trapdoor.
It was no use searching for her. The haunt pressed her on, and she moved toward the ramshackle “cabin”.
Somewhere, in the fake trees, ambient noise began to play. Groaning, it sounded like. Dragging noises. Footsteps.
Not bad, Donna thought. That almost sounds real. She walked into a began to examine the ‘cabin’. It was laid out like a bunker, like some post-apocalyptic survival flick. Boarded up windows and everything.
Three minutes passed outside.
When Riley and Artie made it through the hall, it was Artie who opened the door, pulling it open to step through. He and Riley weren’t greeted with light, but with a wooden sign-post, pointing in different potential directions. Camp Mirror Pond. Chuckles’ Fun House. Manor of Lost Souls. The DMV.
“Most terrifying haunted house of all time,” Artie cracked, pointing to the “DMV” sign. “What’s scarier than bureaucracy? They’re already stiffs!”
Riley snorted in response.
“I guess we can choose which parts to visit? Wanna do one together, or try different ones and meet back up?”
“Oh I am definitely going to the Fun House,” the ‘punny’ one said. “That means clowns! Haunted houses always gotta do scary clowns.”
“Okay, then I’m checking out the Lost Souls thing. Meet back up here after?”
“Yeah!” The roomies high-fived and split off, heading toward their own desires.
In a blink, it felt like, Artie found himself standing before a magnificent carnival-style façade of painted wood, the door decorated to look exactly like walking into the mouth of a giant “Kilroy”-esque clown. It even had moving teeth slowly clamping up from the bottom and down from the top. Grinning, he timed himself to jump through. Just as the teeth clacked as closed as they could and began to open again, he ducked his head through and jumped over the flat, particle-board leer. On the other side, a big, grotesque and somehow sticky tongue caught his landing and he laughed. It was slimy and gross and so tactile that it was brilliant.
Pushing himself off, he spotted a corridor to his left, and down it stretched several of those wavy mirrors so prevalent in carnival fun houses. Clearly this was the way to go.
As Mourning Wood passed down the hall, colorful faces in motley stripes and zany patterns began to appear behind him, accompanied by the comical squeak of their rubber chickens and horns. Whenever Artie turned to look behind him, they ducked into secret hiding-places.
He still got a little freaked out, and hurried by the mirrors showing his image distorted in so many bizarre ways.
Riley’s choice of path took them to an artificial graveyard, and a magnificently constructed, vaguely Victorian ‘estate’ house; somehow, within another house?! Or maybe, the edifice back where they entered was just temporarily structured to block a larger expanse of constructs, like this handsome manor. Yeah, that made sense. Riley held up their glowing light source and ventured the pathway between gravestones, some emblazoned with comical names like “Ima Goner” and similar schlock. Some were bare or ‘faded’, which Riley thought was a nice touch, being an artsy sort with an eye for details themself.
A pervasive chill chased the obscurely dressed historical aficionado into the manor, and Riley could even see their breath. Mist crept in around their feet as they walked into a sitting room, the furniture all shrouded in dusty sheets.
Something caressed their back, and Riley felt their spine stiffen as icy fingers danced up it.
After the others had disappeared into the haunt, Mandie and Todd finally got their shot, and they too walked the dark corridor and opened a door. The door slid open, with not a small bit of effort, and they walked through. The darkness remained with them even as the door closed.
Moving forward, they could hear their steps crunching, and the ground felt uneven. Mandie clutched her boyfriend tight.
“Where do you think the others are?” She whispered, unwilling to let him go for a second.
“Don’t know, but let’s try to stay together. I don’t want you getting hurt.” Even though he couldn’t see it, he knew she would blush. It might be a little suffocating sometimes, always being “the couple” of the crew, but he did love Mandie. Even if maybe they needed to ease up on the PDA and stuff.
“Aww, babe.” Mandie pressed tighter to his side. At this point they’d been together so long they were practically married, and she was just a little afraid to let go, as if she didn’t know who she’d be without a boyfriend.
They ventured further, eyes adjusting to the dim light, and it became obvious to them both they were walking through an outdoorsy landscape. Lots of shrubbery, grassy turf, some trees. No buildings of any kind in sight, and they were not truly sure if they were indoors or out.
Somewhere not far enough away, a howl split the air.
Donna stopped to examine the details of the room she found herself in. Besides the door she’d come through, any other entrance or window was blocked off with wood planks and furniture, barricaded. The place looked to have been chaotically but artfully trashed in a skirmish. There were even what appeared to be prop weapons lying around- spent shell casings and everything. Some of the ‘firearms’ were lined up in pristine condition, and some looked like they’d been dropped mid-use. Papers and litter were everywhere. There was even a fireplace with a burnt-out pile of ash and charred wood and what looked to be the remains of a spitted squirrel over it.
“What fucking detail,” Donna praised in awe.
But there were still no actors- and her disappointment was rising up. There were supposed to be scares here. Where were the scares?
Something crashed outside, and that made her jump. Well, fucking finally. Staying quiet and keeping low, Donna edge forward to peer out the doorway. The glowstick went stuffed and smothered into the striped sweater hanging off her frame. She could see movement, and her heart began to pound. Adrenaline picked up and she waited to find out what sorts of visitors would come a-knocking.
The sounds of feet and slow movement were coming closer, and Donna wasn’t sure if she was meant to try and evade whatever was coming. It seemed logical, so she watched just a few minutes at the door, until something shambled into a clearer spot. A lurching, unsteady figure, accompanied by a low moan. The horror buff grinned.
More figures seemed to be coming, and she turned back into the room, searching for the pathway through the maze. Places like this always kept you moving in choice directions. It looked like there were two ways to go- staying on the lower level and heading into a gore-splattered dining/kitchen area, or up a staircase. A quick duck into the ground-floor rooms proved to be all dead ends, but the scenery was fantastically chilling. A “corpse” lay slumped against the wall, a spray of blood behind it, a gun in the lifeless hand on the floor. As though whatever was out there was too much to face any longer.
Donna turned toward the staircase. Nothing had some through the door yet.
She ascended the stairs.
A nasty-looking bathroom was the first thing to be found up there, with sludgy-looking buckets and the battered tub, toilet and sink stained, grimy. Either side from there split into bedrooms, and one revealed a grim message on the wall- “NO WAY OUT” as if written in blood. The adjacent wall read “WE WILL ALL BE EATEN” on another. Donna grinned. Sort of confirmed her zombie suspicions.
So the game here was to avoid the horde? Good thing she did her cardio.
Peering out the windows on either side of this (staggeringly well-constructed) fake house, Donna spotted her means of escape. Some kind of fireman’s ladder was hanging out the right bedroom’s only window. So, it made the most sense to hide out and watch from there.
Movement downstairs, and she could hear the figures upsetting things, groaning and hissing. So fucking realistic! Her heart pounded wildly, but she was alive, chasing the thrill, enjoying the fuck out of every minute.
A chorus of moans sounded, floating up the stairs, and it was then Donna began to notice something… unusual. The voices downstairs didn’t sound just generically gruff and mindless. They were almost musical, almost pleasing… and none of them sounded distinctly male.
Weird. Shrugging, she hunched under the window, obscured from plain view next to a busted up side table. The woman listened intently to the sounds coming from below. Grunts and vocalizations were growing louder, perhaps beginning to move up the stairs, but so far, she was safe.
Until she heard the floor in the doorway creak.
Startled, Donna stifled a gasp, and she remained perfectly still. Someone was standing in the entrance of the room, but she hadn’t heard anyone climb the stairs- they must’ve been somewhere on the second floor. She didn’t dare draw out the glowstick to get a better look, but peered through the dark, making out a shorter figure, more rounded than she expected- holy shit, a woman. Possibly Betsy?
A flash from outside suddenly lit up the room like lightning, and Donna nearly jumped out of her skin. A thunderous grinding followed it, and in the flickering white light she saw the chick in greater detail. Not Betsy at all. The ‘woman’ in the doorway was dressed like a tattered cheerleader who’d been dragged by a car and also eaten the brains out of some poor schlub’s head, because her mouth was covered in blood and flecks of entrails. She grinned manically, horribly… Lit up for just a few seconds, but enough to paint a picture.
An unearthly giggle emerged from the zombie (or ‘zombimbo’ as Donna was now thinking of her) and she took a few lurching steps forward. The hidden woman got ready to spring into action, especially when she heard a distinctive sniffing, as if her visitor could scent her human presence. That was a hell of touch on the actress’ part for sure.
The zombie cheerleader cut off escape back down the stairs, and Donna could hear more finally coming up. It was now or never. She leapt to her feet and moved- grabbing the windowsill and preparing to hurtle downward to safety. Another giggle. The zombie jumped into action, getting Donna to gasp and curse out loud as she stuck a foot out the window. Most of her was out and about to scramble when two delicate hands closed around her other foot with surprising strength.
The zombimbo cackled with glee as she hauled her squirming, spitting prize back into the room and on the floor. Donna’s first instinct was to fight her off, but she’d signed on not to harm the staff or other patrons while enjoying the attraction. She would just have to break free harmlessly and bug out.
“Fuck!” Donna hissed, trying to wrench herself out of the assailant’s grip. More light flashed in. The messy high pigtails hung over the woman’s face as undead cheerleader smiled vacantly down and pinned her to the ground. Others were starting to crowd in, and as the room lit with strobed “lightning” accompanied by thunder sound effects, the trapped horror fan noticed something that made her freeze in surprise.
All the zombies filling up the room were female. Moreover, despite their impressive makeup and prosthetics, they were all, really really hot. Suddenly Donna was having trouble processing and escaping from this situation for completely different reasons.
Still.
This was the last fucking chance to get away, so she had to make a break for it. Twisting herself viciously to get free, Donna broke the cheerleader’s grip and fought her way to her knees. Once her feet were under her again she made for the window, but this time the slow-to-fast roomful of undead babes were on her twice as hard as before. Her startled shriek was cut off as several pairs of hands touched her everywhere and effortlessly cooperated to move her weight.
“Hey!” She called out as her ass was grabbed. “Is that really this kind of place? C’mon now! How did you even know…” Wow, these actresses were strong! They hauled her body over to the rumpled, bare bed that stood in the room and threw her on it. For a minute, Donna’s mind scrambled, her senses panicked. How was she supposed to escape this room? Wasn’t this essentially a failure?
But they didn’t stop.
They weren’t exactly attacking, either. Considering the waiver, she’d expected to be smacked around, shoved, screamed at- anything like that. Instead, the zombies- about a dozen or so (seemingly more appearing with every second)- were just touching her everywhere. It was starting to become deeply uncomfortable, especially since there was a lot of sinister giggling yet a lot of cooing too, like these brainless undead flesh-hungry monsters were somehow enjoying themselves…?
A tearing noise shocked her back to the moment, and Donna felt airflow under her sweater. The glowstick spilled out and fell onto the bed, casting some in eerie light and others in shadow. Everywhere she looked were pairs of breasts, and all of them really… bouncy and full… all of the girls in here twentyish, mostly blondes; cute too. Or would be super fucking cute if their intestines weren’t spilling out of sensible blouses or from under a crop top. Damn, why were all these zombies so hot?
Clothes began tearing more forcefully, and that got the horror fan really agitated.
“I worked hard on this costume, fuck! I did not read anything in the waiver about damaging my shit!”
Her cries and struggles fell on deaf ears, and they continued to tear. Her sweater shredded, followed by undershirt and sports bra keeping her own modest tits under control. The pants were shucked, and the boxer—briefs tugged away.
“Hey, what the fuck?” Donna shouted, really pulling at her captors now. Her arms and legs were all held down and pulled apart. “This can’t be fucking right!”
The moans grew louder, more insistent and hungry. Oh shit, this must be the part where she got torn apart and eaten, but did she really have to be naked? And how did they even know to send hot women? Her sexuality wasn’t something this haunted house needed to know about or manipulate, yet there she was.
A warm mouth closed down on her breast.
Donna gasped. What. The. Fuck? It wasn’t a bite- no, a bite might’ve been more logical. Expected. This… this was a distinct, incredible, weird sucking. A zombie was sucking her tit, and another one started immediately after. Helpless, the woman moaned. Her trim body was nude except for her shoes, and her hips bucked upward as she panted. That was nothing though, because soon after her nipples became utterly fascinating for the zombimbos that were fondling and sucking them, at least three mouths crammed between her thighs and started tonguing everything they could reach between.
That was it. There was no dignity after that. “Immersive” haunted house or not, Donna was pretty sure this couldn’t be legal, but she was not able to complain. Hands and mouths were all over, hurtling her toward a disturbingly violent orgasm, and furthermore somebody’s juicy little cunt (walking dead pussy) sat down on her face. There was an uncountable number of tongues stuffed in her slit, and besides the mouths on her breasts there were at least two more teasing her clit.
All sense was gone, and Donna reacted the way she would with any one of her lovers before. She began licking up that dripping sheath. Plunged her tongue in the twitching hole, sucked and nibbled the clit… riding the split of labia with her face as the zombie rocked back and forth above her.
Her first orgasm hit just as the one she feasted on gave a gurgling cry and soaked her face in fragrant cream. Even if they were fresh out of the grave, her pussy smelled fantastic and tasted intoxicating. Donna groaned blissfully as she contracted and pulsed, swimming in the hazy delight of climax but still really bewildered as to what was going on here. Hell, a good orgasm was a good orgasm, but this really couldn’t go on any further, right?
She thought they’d let her up. That she’d be released, set back outside to wait for her friends and wonder truly what had gone on inside the attraction this night.
She was wrong.
Donna felt her orgasm spend itself and send her into oversensitivity, but nothing stopped. The cunt on her face lifted but was replace immediately by another, and its owner pressed insistently downward. She was not freed. She was not given the chance to cool down after climax. Hell no- the devouring continued, and as Donna lost herself on a tide of too much stimulation from too many hands and mouths over her entire body, she pondered.
This was not the kind of “eaten” she thought she’d be, and the words on the wall suddenly carried a different meaning.
Did… did the zombimbos write them? Was that dead guy downstairs proof positive that women knew how to eat pussy better than men?
When had she stopped believing this was just a haunted house attraction?
As she nipped, licked, and suckled another cunt to climax, having another (and another and another) worked out of her flesh, Donna remembered something. They wouldn’t stop until she screamed. Nothing was gonna stop until she screamed…
The relentless tide of zombie babes never let up. She ate cunt until her tongue was sore, and they just kept coming, riding her face, taking their pleasure as orgasms were demanded from her body at the same time. Donna lost count of how many times she’d cum, swallowing a rush of thick dew from some other undead pussy each time; soon she was quivering a boneless, utter putty in their hands, and they kept demanding more. Soon, she wasn’t even just subjected to the oral fixation of her zombie horde- no, they started pressing fists into the snug depths of the living cunt they had captured. The extra stimulation was enough to make a woman senseless.
Stroke after stroke, plunge after plunge, the undead all-female flesh feast carried on without a single sign of slowing.
As Donna’s mind faded, pleasure starting to feel like pain, she reflected on her dating life and found it eerily similar to this. Mindless sex, hookup after hookup, all with neverending hot ladies and no substance to a single relationship. God this all felt so good, better than it had any right to feel; but was it time for more? More than empty orgasms and conquests?
When Donna just couldn’t think- couldn’t take any more- she screamed. Screamed her final climax, and screamed into the spasming pussy over her mouth and nose. Hell, she came so hard the zombie fist in her twat nearly popped right out of the socket.
She screamed, and shortly thereafter, it all returned to dark.
The corridor of funhouse mirrors carried on twenty or thirty feet, distorting Artie’s image as he hurried past at a brisk pace. He barely paused to look, as he expected sadistic murder clowns to pour out of the walls any second. The squawking horns, floppy shoes slapping along, and the occasional deranged chortle were unmistakable. It was a haunted house; he knew he wasn’t going to outrun the actors forever. Hell, his adrenaline was pumping and it seemed like this was going to be a great damn time.
As his movements grew faster and more erratic, pushing through the distorted mirrors and around a sharp corner, he waited. They were there- hadn’t gone to really any lengths to hide they were there (classic!)- but why hadn’t they come out?
After the turn, the space opened onto a room. One filled with those soft, padded, dangling things like punching bags you ran around in. Escape was through them somewhere… At least, escape to another segment of this fun house. A maze, probably.
Artie pushed cautiously through the padded danglers, eyes sweeping the walls looking for doors or halls through them. Ahead of him was pitch black, and it was difficult to tell if he was seeing walls or open space. All he could do was keep going, and he shoved his way toward the vacuous blackness, heart pounding. He could hear the cranking and screeching of the rusty chains as momentum flowed through the columns. Beneath that, he realized the other noises had vanished.
Creeped out, the punny one pressed forward into the darkness. A breeze stirred from the wall of inky dark ahead of him- a way out or beyond. Artie hurried forward, skin erupting with bumps, and he stepped into the void.
For about two steps, it was fine. Easy going, eerie quiet. Then…
A stream of seltzer materialized out of the void and struck him right in the face. He sputtered, surprised, and stumbled backward. A body was tucked behind him and he fell ass-over-teakettle and rolled comically, accompanied by perfectly-timed sound effects like it had all been scripted. A tide of raucous laughter welled up around him, and lights erupted from nowhere. Circus music blared from every corner. The entire place now resembled the performance rings in the center of a Big Top tent. Sprawled on his ass, Artie gibbered to see the number of clowns surrounding him, laughing hysterically. The one holding the seltzer bottle was a large, male clown with two thick curly bushes of red hair sticking out from either side, and his overstuffed pants were striped banana yellow and lime green.
All sorts of clowns hopped and hooted with glee in the ring, and it was surprising to see that they weren’t gory. They didn’t have weapons to menace him with, and their teeth weren’t jagged rows of fangs. They just looked like… clowns. That wasn’t un-creepy, but wasn’t the point to be overtly terrifying?
One of the lady clowns offered a big, gloved hand and a gentle look of regret, and Artie accepted the help while staring awestruck at her big painted grin and red bulbous clown nose. Smiling, she pulled him to his feet- only for two others to come flank him and pants him in classic fashion. More laughter erupted, and that was when the confused young thirty-something began to hear the next layer of ambient sound. Somewhere, there was an audience. An audience laughing and clapping as the slap-schtick continued.
Well, at least Artie loved a good sight gag accompanying a classic pratfall routine.
One hell of a spotlight circled down from the ceiling, and Artie looked up. The whole damn place around him did look exactly like a large circus tent, right down to the tight peak at the top. What an illusion! The guy barely had time to marvel at the impressiveness before a voice began pounding through the air.
“Your attention, young and old! Friends and freaks! Welcome to the Grand Finale of tonight’s performance!”
The declaration was met with wild applause and adulation from an unseen audience, and the figure booming it out came riding in on a unicycle, a fluttering tailcoat (red) streaming behind. A cacophony of horns added to the nearby din. Artie remained sprawled on his ass staring up at the circling figures in riotous colors and styles. So many clowns.
The one on the unicycle was clearly the ringmaster- holding a cane and wearing a top hat besides the tailcoat. He swiftly rode a ring around Artie, distracting him long enough to turn him right into a small female clown who smacked him full-on with a pie tin piled high with whipped topping. The mess succumbed to gravity when she stepped back, cackling, and the tin clattered to the ground. The layers of cream splatted after it.
Nose and mouth full of fluffy, sweet goo, he sputtered and wiped his face with both hands. Laughter and honking erupted all around him.
“Our special guest performer for the evening for such a lovely audience!” The ringmaster called out, to a thorough round of applause.
A hand seemed to press the small of the fun one’s back, making him bow. Artie was completely perplexed. This definitely had a sinister vibe to it, but really, nothing was happening to him beyond a few comedic antics. This place was weird, though. So big, and the production values were intense.
Under the spotlight, the man in the makeup and the old school suit shrugged, and took the chance to indulge himself.
“A spectacular audience!” He called, summoning years of theatre training and vocally projecting across the open ground. “Clearly a crowd with taste.” To illustrate his point, Artie swiped some of the residual cream off his face and licked it from his finger. Giving a comical “Mmmmmm-mmmm!” he began to waddle forward like a penguin, before dropping his top half and tucking his head to execute a somersault while pulling up his pants. He adroitly rolled to his feet, popping up expertly, and threw his hands in the air to show off the move.
After a scant few seconds, right on cue, his trousers dropped back down. The ‘audience’ went wild, howling with laughter, as did the clowns around him. Bowing, Artie stooped to pick the garment up for real, but was stopped by hands tugging on his arms.
“A fine start to the performance, my boy, but don’t be hasty! The act has just begun.” The Ringmaster swept back, and the merry jesters surrounded their target. A male clown with a rainbow afro ran up holding another pie. This one was not covered in whipped cream, and even though he couldn’t get away from the clowns, Artie had to goggle at them. Things were getting a bit freakier now.
Apparently, they weren’t going to let him leave.
“You must be hungry!” The bewigged clown said, brandishing his wobbling plate of unknown sugary make. “But oh, I’ve forgotten the cream! Giggles, won’t you grab the canister and give it a good spray before we all have a slice?”
A boisterous lady clown in an extremely loud polka-dotted jumper skirt with huge white bloomers underneath rushed forward.
“Why of course Mr. Boffles! What kind of host serves custard pie without a nice thick, white cream topping? Heck, there should be a cream filling, too!” The clown woman- Giggles- mimed like she was reaching beneath her skirt for a canister, but instead, she snagged Artie’s boxers and yanked them down, making him gasp. A male clown in a pinstripe jumpsuit held him from behind and laughed against his neck. The warm puff of air on his skin made him tingly. Disconcertingly- though he was unable to move and starting to feel freaked- he noticed something odd.
The clown behind him smelled great- like pine and citrus, and the one called “Giggles”, beneath her comical, gravity-defying braided wig and painted-on oversized Cupid’s bow lips, was kind of cute. And well-endowed apparently. Her breasts rubbed against his chest and belly as she stripped his shorts off and slid her hand downward to grip his cock. Shockingly, Artie found the touch warm and teasing, and his body reacted immediately.
A slow slide-whistle sound began as his dick rose hard in her hands, and the noise was so perfectly synchronized with his erection he had to admit they’d mastered comedic timing. It ended with a jaunty note as he sprang to full attention; the clown holding his arms back wasn’t exactly ‘laying down’ on the job either. His cock jabbed Artie in the butt as if on the same wavelength, and one of the guy’s hands rose to his nipple, again exactly in sync.
At the same time, Giggles and the unnamed clown honked those different parts of his anatomy at the same time, and the sound effects matched hilariously. The unseen stands of ‘people’ laughed. Artie sputtered, his whole body jerking as he lit up with arousal. Almost like the seltzer from earlier had been spiked- or even the cream.
“Won’t you indulge us, friend?” Mr. Boffles was asking. “Looks like you’ve got something to help us serve the dessert! Let him have it, Giggles!” Just like that, Artie was prodded forward- and the jiggling, thick custard pie was right there to catch his dick.
Artie groaned as he buried himself into the substance with a glutinous noise. Behind him, the piney clown guy grabbed his hips and pulsed against Artie’s ass, making him mimic the motion. This made the captive, well, fuck the pie.
“Now I know how Jason Biggs felt,” the man quipped, unable to stop himself. Giggles below was licking his navel, watching- and giggling- as his hips pounded into the dish. Somehow the custard was holding its shape, making for a surprisingly pleasurable sensation that was just tight enough to stimulate the sensitive nerves of his cock. It didn’t help that someone was caressing his balls and that a seemingly hung clown nestled his bulge in the crack of Artie’s bare ass as he dry-thrusted. Unable to break the hold on his body, gangly, goofy Artie slipped into the moment, feeling the rush of an impending orgasm as well as something else.
The hands on him were increasing, and half-hazy, he realized that clowns of different genders were part of the pack, gleefully increasing his sensory overload and enjoying themselves. They were starting to undress, too, showing off tits and dicks and slits, gorgeous asses, legs, and everything else. All while still wearing the requisite makeup, bright wigs, and various clown accessories.
Hell, as he started to cum, he was pretty sure he saw a clown with the bulbs of two horns in both her asshole and pussy, and she was playing a pretty competent version of Yankee Doodle Dandy by squeezing down. He wanted to laugh, but he couldn’t because he felt Giggles bite his hip and tug his balls while she held the pie to his groin. Artie lost it, spurting hot seed into the dense, creamy dessert. At the moment of climax, “AWOOOOOOOGA!” sounded out loud and bounced around the tented space.
The audience about died.
The Ringmaster chuckled, watching intently.
“That’s it, my boy! A nice generous squirt, and once you’re done dispensing it, we’ll all enjoy a nice helping of cream pie. There will be even be a double serving for you!”
The climax kept pouring out of him, shooting an overabundant load of white liquid throughout the entire confection and all over everything within five feet, including Giggles. When Artie was finally done coming, he panted helplessly, opening his eyes to see the pie removed from his hips. Fuck, his groin was a slathered, dripping mess. It didn’t last long, though, as every clown nearby crammed in close and began licking him clean. The entire scene became a smorgasbord of chaos as tongues flitted across the man’s skin and swallowed down every last bit of goo, whether cum or custard. Even Giggles was licked clean, but not before she was turned onto her head and the entire contents of the pie tin dumped into her open knickers and smeared all over her cunt.
The Ringmaster leaned on his cane and leveled his face with Artie’s. “Ready for another delicious cream pie?” A clown came to his left with yet another tin piled high. “How about two?” Now a clown popped up on the right, bearing a second one.
“Coconut?” The jokester adlibbed, daring them to try him further with these ludicrous shenanigans.
“And a banana split!” The tailcoated clown snickered madly in response. The actual physical pies were casually tossed backwards at the same time, and each one landed on the faces of two clowns who were fucking in a doggy-style position… while balanced on a large red sphere or ball. The clown on top had a parasol in one hand while driving into the other, and they carried on with that gravity-defying act of sex regardless of the incident.
Before he could even sputter a token protest, Artie felt the clown behind him finally drop trou. Giggles hand-walked her way forward and remained perched like that, bending her legs entirely over her head as she pressed her exposed, filthy pussy onto the cock she’d just recently made cum inside a custard confection. Artie was still hard, and she enveloped him easily. He moaned raggedly. As he sank deep into her hot pussy, the thick shaft of the male clown worked its way into his backside, slickened with something to ease passage.
“Fuck him good, Sparky!” Giggles begged.
Clearly that was the man at his ass, because in short order, Artie found himself with a dick all the way down into his hole. A labored grunt escaped him, and it did not take long to notice that with every thrust of Sparky’s, he sank into Giggles just as hard, then was pulled back until he was pushed forward and thrusting by proxy. So the rhythm began. After a minute or two, the man who masked his insecurities with humor had forgotten all about his problems. He was just too damn into what was happening.
Finding his own motion, Artie fucked and was fucked in return. He caught himself kissing Sparky, reaching down to stroke Giggles’ clitty. At some point they fell into a triple-stacked doggy-style thrust train, and his mouth was put to use. Sometimes sucking a cock, sometimes licking a twat- all of it exciting and confusing but oh-so-right. Why should he have to hide behind the gags and the pranks? Why was he afraid of being a bi/pan man and just… living his life?
Once or twice he would suck a clown cock and wind up with a mouth and face full of seltzer instead of cum, sure, but being pounded into a woman’s pussy by a man’s dick in his ass was overpowering in all the best ways.
Artie felt his backside suddenly filled with hot liquid and it made him give up. He shot himself again, this time deep inside Giggles, and she erupted all over him in ripples of release. Clowns came 360 degrees in all directions. Even the Ringmaster was completing a spectacular feat of aerial fucking as he and a conjoined partner zipped back and forth on trapezes high above the ground, only holding onto each other by the genitals.
A wonderous spectacle of mixed sex everywhere, and it seemed the closeted funny man was in good company. Good enough to join this parade of ridiculousness if it weren’t… a show?
Was it a show? What kind of haunted house attraction featured actual clown orgies and the seduction of its patrons? The man had no idea, but he fell upon another female clown to pay her some oral attention while she juggled rubber chickens. It wasn’t long until someone else knelt behind him and began rimming his asshole, cleaning up the cum there, and the orgy continued.
It was a storm of oversized pants and hand buzzers being activated in some very delicate places until Artie finally felt completely drained.
When he came for the last time, almost dry, he hollered aloud. For some reason, he just had to scream out his lingering frustrations and fears. He screamed until the lights went out, and the applause faded away.
Riley whirled, chilled by the sensation of touch along their back as well as the dropping of the temperature. It was highly noticeable; they could see their own breath. A quick spin proved no one was there, and the ‘bootlegger’ studied the house. No visible disturbances… at least not yet. Besides the cold spot, there was a faint trace of scent in the air. Almost like perfume or cologne, and years of esoteric interests had already provided the answer. Ghosts.
This was the “haunted” part of the haunted attraction, and wow, were the effects something. Must be a hidden vent around there piping in the frigid air and the scent. Probably backed into something that tickled too. What next? Were candles going to spontaneously erupt into flame all over the place?
Stepping forward, away from the draft, Riley ventured on. Maybe there was an interactive component to this. Some kind of mystery or backstory to solve? Otherwise, where were the performers? Usually, these things were full of costumed actors waiting to jump out at every corner. So far there was no one besides the people selling the tickets and letting them inside.
Given the spectacular production values, though, it wouldn’t be shocking if the budget went entirely to sets and props rather than live performers. Maybe saving the active scares for the moment the tension was at its peak? Who knew.
As far as furniture and décor went, the place did not scream “lived in”. Tables with dusty vases and long-dead flowers, sheet-covered fainting couches, and the occasional grimy China cabinet or armoire were dispersed throughout. The walls had some artwork on them, but the canvases were difficult to parse in the dim light. Some were torn up, and others were just too filthy with dirt and webs.
Not much else remained in the winding downstairs of this fake mansion, but there was a way up. Riley took it, clutching the carved handrail firmly. Only silence followed…
…Or so they thought.
The second floor revealed a large open library, which was magnificent all on its own. A short gasp escaped Riley’s lungs as their eyes traced one side to the next. Shelves upon shelves stretched across the space, with antique lamps and ornately carved wooden desks and velvet-padded furniture. Everything was coated with what appeared to be decades (if not centuries) worth of dust. Cobwebs positively everywhere. How had no other patrons possibly gone in here tonight- or seemingly, the entire season? It would have to be so hard to keep up the illusion of this undisturbed book repository for an entire spooky season’s worth of guests! Some massive dedication, here.
It was breathtaking, really, especially for someone who loved history and the minutiae of non-traditional fields of study.
Riley walked toward the shelves, lured by the temptation of books. They had to know if they were set-dressing only, or if they perhaps held clues as to why (so far) no actors were there trying to scare the vintage pants off their guest. Furthermore, where were all the other attendees? There were no footprints to give away anyone who had come before, and as they walked, Riley looked. A trail of scuffed dust revealed thick carpet beneath, and it was silky-slick underfoot. Definitely not some cheap effect then.
As the history buff finally reached the tomes (all covered in layers of dust as well), they noted the contents: Ritual magic, witchcraft, possession, spirits, exorcisms, religious rites, devil worship… and oddly enough, Victorian etiquette. A little funny to have that in the mix, although it made a modicum of sense. If you were going to conduct a black magic ceremony and summon an apparition or something, you might as well be polite about it!
Riley’s fingers itched to pluck one of the dusty volumes from the shelf. To see how much of a prop it was, or not. Selecting a promising title (Lifting the Veil; Or, Opening the Door to the Beyond with Simple Charms), the suited one found that they were indeed real books! The dust layer broke, falling into the gap as the volume came free, and Riley carefully placed the book flat on the table and examined it closely. The cover was faded, but still showed an etched drawing that featured a circular table with properly dressed Victorian figures around it. A man sat on the left-most side of the table, one hand extended high above his head and the other at a crystal ball below his studious gaze. A woman swooned next to him while two other people looked on in shock. Above, a phantasmal figure appeared to be coming through the ceiling toward the party.
They had to give it to this attraction- real eye for details here. Riley could happily spend hours investigating every one of the books (a quick check proved they were all completely real!), but they’d come here for scares. Being left alone for this long in what felt like a forgotten segment of the house was a bit disappointing. If the ticket hadn’t been free, they probably would’ve marched back to the box office for a refund by now.
As it was, the setting was so incredible it was hard to leave.
Maybe the place did need a shake-up after all. Any performers working this section had clearly been left alone all night.
Upon opening the book, Riley easily found the publication information, including that it was printed in 1900 (so late Victorian). A more thorough perusal revealed the secrets to summoning and communicating with ghosts at the time, and it was free of any modern paranormal jargon to give it away as fake. Plus, the paper itself was so brittle and old it was almost like handling an extremely thin wafer! They had to be very careful turning the pages.
Even with those precautions in mind, there was some really interesting content contained therein. The book detailed chants, ritualized instructions, and meditative activities designed to call spirits forth, and described how to use crystals, dowsing rods, cards, pendants, and special incense to forge a connection with the other side. All of this gave Riley an idea and they began searching the room for more items. If all these books with instructions were so carefully placed, and this was really a haunted house puzzle to solve, there had to be at least a few of these ritual implements nearby.
Ten or so minutes later, Riley had amassed a small cache of items- a hanging censer at a table with a hook to place it on, incense that smelled of apple, cedar, and something pleasantly herbal alongside a box of crystals that appeared to be various types of quartz. Amongst them was a pointed chunk of white quartz with a faintly pink tinge, set into a pendant and hung on a chain.
There was probably more, if Riley cared to look further, but this much should do.
After swiping a huge patch of dust off the table, they had a place to lay out the spoils. Whipping a Zippo lighter out of their pocket, the ‘mobster’ placed a couple of chunks of incense into the bottom of the antique burner and lit it, replacing the lid tightly as it began to smolder. They hung it on the hook as smoke wafted out, and picked up the crystal pendant. It dangled on a tarnished silver chain and Riley stilled it with their hand so that they could start their summons properly. Taking a seat in the chair they’d brushed off, they turned attention to the suggested methods of summoning.
“I hereby call upon the shades that dwell within this house,” the mortal declared, keeping their voice steady and clear. “Be thee Lord, Lady, grown, child, servant, or served- I entreat thee, make thyselves known.” The pendant was steady, hanging from their fist. The perfumed smoke drifted lazily throughout the room. “I command thee to knock thrice in answer, or to touch this pendant thrice and demonstrate your presence!”
For a long minute, Riley sat there unmoving, and nothing at all answered. It was a crushing bummer, and eventually they sighed and stopped waiting. They closed the book carefully, intending to put it back, and then hung the pendant around their neck for temporary keeping. Then they stood, intending to somehow snuff the incense.
As Riley got to their feet, the temperature dropped again, and a pocket of chill air that distinctly was not there before enveloped their head and chest. At the same time, the sensation of being touched returned, but this time it was not a vague brushing against their back. No, two distinct, dry, cool hands touched each of Riley’s ankles and began moving up their legs beneath the suit. Riley gave a yelp as the feeling slid up each of their legs and toward their groin.
Before the living mortal’s eyes, the smoke from the incense seemed to flow thicker, and it began to condense into a mass. The pendant hanging at Riley’s breast beat against their heart- bap bap bap. A tugging on the chain, and three distinct taps. Something was happening, and there was no way a human performer could be doing this stuff. This was too specific. And too personal, as the ‘hands’ up the legs were now zeroing in on the intimate places Riley kept to themselves a lot of the time. They had a vulva and something was currently stroking it, plying fingers up and down the lips and around the clit. The other far-too-frisky hand was tracing their ass, slipping between the cheeks and circling the pucker between them.
“What the fuck?” Riley blurted, and nearby a strange, unseen entity gasped then tsk tsk‘d them, presumably for the crude language. The smoke from the censer had collected enough to resemble a masculine figure, with arms and legs, the head forming before the living person’s startled eyes. Fingers plunged into both of Riley’s vacant holes and began teasing deep strokes inside. All of this compounded as the male smoke-figure finally gained a full body and began to reach out.
Riley stepped backward awkwardly, liquid now sluicing down their legs. Despite how freaky the situation was, the fingers probing the depths of their body and stroking their clit were skilled, and the reaction was surprisingly strong. While those hands kept up their work, driving Riley close to cumming, the smoke figure made contact.
At first the touch was warm, residually heated from the burning incense. It cooled the further it went up the living arm, and the shock of ice cold traveled inward from Riley’s palm and throughout their body.
Once the cloud of perfumed smoke was gone inside them, Riley heard the voice for the first time. Their core was now filled with something huge and pulsating with heat. Very different from the cold streaking through the rest of their body.
“My my my, young one, you simply seethe with curiosity and desire, don’t you, hmm?” An unidentified man chuckled in their head. “Otherwise you would not have chosen your destination here. Very few of our visitors are able to choose their fate here, and fewer still come to this place. You see that we have remained undisturbed for some time.” Riley whipped around, seeing nothing, still feeling quite a lot. Their cunt was being pumped delightfully, stretched beyond their memory, and a firm pressure was applied to their clit.
“What is this?” The mortal hissed. “How are you doing this?”
“You asked us to greet you, my dear. So we have. Allow me to demonstrate, using the energies of your own body.” Something- or someone– moved down through their bloodstream, and everything below the waist suddenly constricted and exploded in a powerful orgasm, making the muscles in both passages flutter wildly. Riley groaned and doubled over, clutching their belly. The voice just chortled again. “Wonderful, ducky, just wonderful. You’re rather responsive. Shall I show you what it’s like to experience my own pleasure, as you’ve allowed me to indulge in yours?”
A spike of need eclipsed Riley’s loins, and the pang of longing that came with it could’ve been theirs, but it might belong to whatever was ‘speaking’ within their mind.
“Show me,” the living person gasped.
“Gladly.”
The scene melted away. Dusty old library vanished, replaced with the vibrant image of the same room in all its splendor, as it might’ve been in the very early 1900s. A busty, pretty maidservant was in front of their eyes- as though Riley were seeing from another’s eyes. They looked down, and their body appeared the same, complete with suit. But it became clear that the maidservant did not see Riley; she saw whoever once lived there. At that realization, energy filled the modern mortal’s body once again, and some kind of spirit or force hit them with a startling sensation. Their vagina filled up intensely, and a protrusion blossomed from the front of their crotch. It split, becoming a thick, hard, cock-shaft and a heavy soft dangling sac.
The “ghost” had somehow given them the realistic feeling of having a dick and balls. It wasn’t like a toy or a prosthetic, though. It felt rooted in Riley’s flesh, and utterly living. So when the smiling, flirtatious maid in her apron-topped uniform, sank to her knees and freed the erection from their pants, the sensation of her mouth wrapping around it jolted right upward. Wow, it felt amazing… wet heat, lips, tongue- all playfully suckling until the swelling of both phantasmal dick and balls grew tighter and fuller. The maid stood up after getting ‘him’ fully hard and she lifted herself onto a table. Riley’s hands tugged up her skirt, and they experienced everything as if they had actually done it.
First the man Riley was possessed by pulled the maid’s buttocks to the edge of the table, and then bent to plunder her exposed cunny through her split-crotch bloomers. The taste of her was distinct and tart on the tongue, and the man eagerly lapped and sucked the woman’s cunt until she flooded his face. Riley lived it, then lived the experience of rearing upward and shoving the rod at their groin into the tight clasp of the pussy before them. It was incredible, and so real! How the hell could a haunted house possibly produce such a situation?
They began to fuck. Phantom dick invaded the slick tight sheath of muscle inside the illusory maidservant, and it felt so good Riley began to pant, closing their eyes. The picture continued nevertheless, cementing that the scene was playing out from memory.
The male spirit spoke to his paramour, praising her tight cunny and the deliciousness of her flesh on his shaft. An echo of the words he’d spoken to her at the time. Suddenly Riley knew who had inhabited their body- the unmarried son of the Lord of this manor. The heir, who was known to sport with the servants as well as any noblewoman he could lure to his company. Those Victorians really were quite as bawdy as the remnants of their time suggested, in the form of erotic books and pleasure-toys.
The sex continued, Riley’s hips rapidly pistoning as their possessor pumped his shaft into his long-departed lover. The clasp of her pussy was unbelievable, and as fast as the orgasm had been before, this one seemed to be speeding right along even more.
The coupling in the library must’ve been a most taboo and tantalizing quickie, proposed and carried out with daring discretion. The maid buried her moans into the man’s shoulder as he pounded her to his orgasm, all with the mortal passenger along for the ride. When the Lord’s son finally came, releasing a massive load, Riley’s eyes snapped open.
The library scene vanished, but the sight of a phantasmal phallus spurting huge floods of ectoplasmic semen was still there, and Riley choked with the pleasure as they tried to catch the liquid with their fingers. It felt cold and goopy, thick, but they pulled their hands back clean. The gelatinous liquid continued to pour out of their groin, and the pleasure of release was slowly ebbing away but still intensely enjoyable.
When it was over, Riley was released, and the spirit left them to their own body again.
“Enjoy that?” The voice asked, giddy. In reply, Riley shucked their pants and positioned themselves on the table, where the maid had once sat to be fucked.
“Now fill me up just like that,” they dared, and at once felt the chill as their body was speared. It was like a rod of ice, and yet their own body heat provided an incredible contrast. “Oh yes, yes! Just like that.”
“Bloody lovely, sweetness,” the voice told them. “Bloody lovely indeed.”
Fucking began in earnest, and Riley began to moan aloud, prompting more of the household to join the scene. Hands began roaming their body, cupping their hips, small breasts, and mound, stroking as the lord’s son fucked. The invisible shaft parted their pussy-lips widely, delivering incredible thudding blows to the back of their hole. Something, maybe another member of the household, also pressed into the mortal’s ass and began fucking them there, too.
Another hand stroked their clit, and the magnified stimulation paid off when Riley came again, harder than before. It wasn’t long until they felt the filling of their holes with an endless stream of gooey, jelly-like ectoplasmic slime. Looking down, still crying out with orgasmic aftershocks, Riley was even able to see the moment the ghosts began to cum inside them, and the bursts of thick liquid that spurted forth from their pussy and asshole gushed out in a torrent.
Oh fuck, was that both weird and hot.
The orgy was on after that, and Riley experienced being possessed- and being taken– by the rowdy spirits of the house. They were given ghostly organs to fuck others again and shown more memories of the lusty happenings within the walls. They were fucked and filled over and over again in their own given body, feeling their cunt used like never before. A whirlwind of experience from any and every side of the biological sexual experience. It was an incredible evening, and it only cemented their confidence further.
It didn’t matter to these spirits who Riley was, how they dressed, or the make of their body. It was perfectly able to pleasure and be pleasured, and as another load of ectoplasm was shot directly into their aching core, they screamed.
It was a triumphant cry of climax and self-love, and they screamed loudly until everything went dark.
The lovebirds stayed close, moving through the rough landscape quickly but carefully. It was uneven and rocky in spots, and the grass was high and whippy in others. Mandie stumbled, sometimes losing her footing. Todd had to keep catching her so she wouldn’t take him down as well.
Something was… off. He didn’t know how, but he could feel unease tightening his every muscle. Mandie might be an absolute whiz on cuts of steak, wielding a cleaver and a butcher knife with deft expertise, but she was kind of… uncoordinated on her feet. They were definitely being pursued, and he knew she wasn’t going to be able to keep up with him if they had to take off running. For now, he hustled her along, providing a steady arm to keep her going.
In the end, it might come down to either hoisting her clean off her feet, or leaving her behind…
And what kind of guy would he be if he did that?
In the distance, another howl rent the night. It was shortly joined by others- an entire chorus of animals responding to one another far off, but closer than before. Nearby there were scuffling sounds, and the distinct pattern of feet. Not theirs. Not other patrons’, either. Todd cursed quietly and kept them both hurrying along.
Mandie kept a death grip on her boyfriend’s arm, but she tried her absolute damndest not to slow him up too badly. She knew in this kind of situation, well… she wasn’t the best. She’d never been athletic, not like Todd. More gifted in the arts and music, and then taken by an unusual trade after high school. Did she only hang onto him so hard because he was the one thing she could brag about back in high school?
When would she stop being scared of the bubble popping? Surely (she always thought), gorgeous, popular, smart jock Todd Masterson couldn’t really be interested in ‘quirky’ arthouse nerd Mandie. Hell, she could chalk high school up to his ‘manic pixie dream girl’ crush, but after high school the relationship hadn’t ended. And then, through college, it hadn’t ended.
They were living together, they were the ‘couple that survived’ high school. And she’d been paranoid of losing that ever since. He’d been her first everything. First love, first boyfriend, first kiss, first sexual partner- everything. Mandie bit her lip and stifled a hitch in her breath.
They had to move. Someone was coming closer, chasing them down; several someones, based on that stampeding din. Pretty soon Mandie was going to have to choose. Hold him back and get the shit scared out of them both, or let go and throw herself to the wolves.
She wouldn’t blame him if he ran. For a haunted house, this whole thing was remarkably put together. This freaky scenery, the sound effects, and the ground even starting to rumble from the sheer force of momentum coming at them- it was so vivid, so fucking real. Absolutely got the heart pounding and the adrenaline up.
In the scant light available, they hustled their asses. Todd was able to keep up a good jogging stride, pacing himself and regulating his breathing. As long as Mandie’s feet kept moving, he was able to successfully drive her body along, and he had a plan. They couldn’t outrun these dogged performers long, but why not keep it going as long as they could? When the scare finally came, it should be damn good. That was the point of this experience, after all… It just felt so damn immersive, and for some reason he knew he had to keep Mandie going.
Losing her or letting her be taken was… he didn’t know, but some instinctual voice in his brain grew enraged at the thought.
The howls were closer now, and it was only a matter of time before the performers were on them. Todd estimated five, ten minutes, if that. He braced himself to scoop Mandie off the ground and haul her onto his back, Luke Skywalker-style.
His plan never came to fruit.
Out of nowhere, their pursuers launched themselves from the shrubs on the perimeter and dove in for the kill. Several blurs surrounded the winded couple easily and tackled them both.
Mandie’s cry was cut short as a heavy body tumbled her to the ground, securing her to a furry(?!) chest that tucked her safely in before the sky went pitching overhead. She could hear her boyfriend shouting something, maybe her name, but her senses were overwhelmed until the world stopped moving again. When it did, she panted.
She was pinned to the ground by a man- or at least, a man-shaped beast. A hot tongue swiped her cheek, and someone that looked like a big, thick bipedal husky grinned down at her. A wolfman? Well, that explained the howls.
“Oooooooo we caught a pretty new bitch,” the monster howled excitedly, tail thumping against his leg. Mandie stared at it, and the other male wolf-people that surrounded her on the ground. They were all different colors, from icy gray to russet to earthen brown, but they were unmistakably wolf men. Ones that had her flat on her back, holding her arms and legs. But they didn’t seem… aggressive? The one who’d spoken was quivering like a puppy.
“Bitch?” Mandie snorted, taking offense.
“We’ve got a magnificent stud over here!” A raspy female voice cried, and at first this seemed like a gross oversight, but then Mandie remembered. Wolves were canines, and well, when you used those terms for dogs it was in reference to breeding.
Wait. Breeding?
“A successful hunt and excellent chase,” boomed another male voice, this time advancing Mandie. He was a sable-colored, huge looming beast-man, his fur so dark he could barely be seen until his green eyes flashed. “This mated pair will make a strong addition to our pack.”
“What the fuck is this!” Todd yelled, closer to where Mandie lay. She turned her head, and she could see him. So close, but unreachable. “Mandie!” He scrabbled against his captors, which his girlfriend could see were all decidedly female. On closer inspection, all the weres surrounding them wore shredded human clothes that barely covered their bits and bobs. They were all furry head to- er, paw- though.
“Todd!” She reached out, unable to process. Her brain was frying in confusion, and (let’s be honest) some of these beings were hot. She never thought fur might wind up being her thing, but as the males grinned down at her, chuffing in delight as they took in the sight of her, she started feeling warm.
Meanwhile, her boyfriend was confused as fuck and half-mad with the need to get back to Mandie. His girl was lying over there, surrounded by burly dog-faced dudes, and something in his chest was ready to snap and snarl at them. His! Why were they touching what was his! One of the females, her fur longer and silkier around the ears, neck, and ruff than the males, chuckled as he pulled and glowered at them laying hands on his chest.
“He’s got fight and spirit in him here,” the pale brown wolf-woman praised, a twinkle in his eye. “You’ll make strong pups. I wonder how many matings it will take to wear you out?”
“What?” He hissed. “Matings? What the hell kind of place is this?”
“You entered our territory unbidden, dressed as prey,” the big sable male told him, voice firm and with just a hint of amused growl. “We hunted you, lured you into an ambush, and claimed you both. We have decided to initiate you and make you pack. The turning can be vicious, so we find it eases the way when you’re connected to your animal nature with something more pleasurable.” Sweeping a hand toward the sight of Mandie, whose face was so red even Todd could see it, the males on her side took that as a cue.
The helpless woman squeaked as her leggings were pulled apart as if paper, and her dress slowly torn by one sharp claw dragged from breast to hemline. The act sent ripples of shock through her, but there was also something deeply arousing in the whole careful scene.
“Oh my god, what? You’re gonna make us fuck and watch?” She gibbered, seeing the powerful digits tipped with sharp, savage animal instruments come down upon her naked skin.
“Oh no, sumptuous young bitch,” the big one- their leader, perhaps- soothed. “Your male will claim you tonight, but before your mate-bond is sealed in your bestial forms, you’ll be mounted many times, and he’ll ride our females until he allows his beast to claim you. Once he fights his ways to you and mounts you, the bond will form and you’ll both be pack.”
Another shrill squeak from Mandie, and a warm roll of laughter took the wolves as they surrounded their prey.
Todd yelped as his clothing was tugged off and tossed aside, and unbelievably, through the jealousy and feral haze, watching Mandie be touched was… turning him on. The women fondling his cock and excitedly squeezing his muscled legs and ass didn’t help, either. Every single one of them seemed greedy to have a taste, and he groaned as a tongue flitted across the tip of his shaft.
“Mandie,” Todd gritted out, his hips pulsing as a hot long tongue began wrapping his cock.
“Todd,” the woman gushed as tongues were plied everywhere. On her breasts and throat, pushed up in her cunt, over her clit. The temperature of her rocketed up at least two degrees and she moaned, unable to stop the onslaught of pleasure.
Wolf-girls licked his balls, tongued his abs, and fondled every hard part of him they could reach. Both humans were pushed toward orgasm rapidly, as the ‘alpha’ knelt between them both, holding Mandie’s shoulder and laving her neck. He was watching his packmates, watching her for the moment of climax. She got completely lost in the moment, forgetting how strange and twisted this all was as her pussy spasmed and the pressure inside tightened. Even knowing her body as well as he did, Todd had never gotten her so wet or so close this fast. Not as fast as a bunch of hairy horny wolfmen who could talk was getting her there.
When Mandie started to come, crying out her pleasure as she rode the breaking wave in her body, the alpha sank his claws into her shoulder and bit down on her neck, breaking the skin in both places. She strangled on her yell and it made her cum even harder.
Once the catalyst had been provided for the female, the sable male turned his attention to her mate. Three of his wolves were eagerly lapping his dick at the same time, using their long agile tongues to great effect. Snouts- like they had while in their beast forms- didn’t translate well to traditional blowjobs, but the pack had learned long ago the combined licking worked quite well. Todd was harder than he could ever remember being, and he stared at the women in awe. It was like the sexy vixen version of the animated Robin Hood from back in the day, but even more majestic, and there were five, and most of them were bathing his cock and balls in saliva.
It felt like a betrayal, even as Mandie herself was being compromised by the other wolf jerks. Funny enough, it didn’t sting him as bad as he feared. And the load that was about to shoot out of him? Taking the edge off his own guilt, for sure.
Todd erupted with a rough, guttural sound, and as his cum fountained upward, the alpha bit his throat and marked his shoulder too.
Once the process began, there was nothing to stop it.
The heat of orgasm at first disguised and then used the heat of the transformation, but once climax faded out, Mandie was left gasping as her every cell reconfigured itself. She was becoming something more, and when the males around her offered their words of excitement and praise, their hands rubbing her flanks, she tried desperately to twist onto her knees. Pain was singing on every nerve ending and there was only one way to stop it.
“F-fuck… Fuck me, please…” she pleaded, and the males howled their adulations to the sky. First came the alpha, once Todd’s marking was complete. Mandie was placed on her knees, facing her boyfriend’s direction. The sable werewolf took her from behind, thrusting in eagerly, as she was more than ready to take it.
Todd had also been taken to his knees, but now he was circled by the pack females, their tails lifted to reveal throbbing wet cunts waiting to be mounted and filled. Each one of them just happened to pose with their heads toward their packmates, and this new stud, taken by his transformation, would have the perfect view of his mate as she was pounded raw over and over. With a snarl, the man shoved himself into the closest pussy and started thrashing his hips against her ass.
Fucking the other females first would help him adjust as his body changed, and when he finally got to his mate, he’d learn exactly what he was now.
A primal, powerful, and graceful beast. Not the prey, but the hunter.
The dick ruthlessly plundering her insides was thick, so much fiercer than Todd’s, and Mandie clawed at the dirt in front of her uselessly as she took every stroke. Those claws were real, too, and her hands were changing shape. The need inside her intensified; as the alpha spurted his load into her, howling in climax, she shoved her ass against him for every drop. It wasn’t going to be enough. There had to be more, right now, and when he pulled out another male was at her cunt, driving home, pounding her tight sensitive flesh.
Todd fucked in uncontrolled, punishing thrusts, but he didn’t reach climax again. Instead he felt the bitch at his loins stroke herself while he delivered a mindless pounding, and when she reached orgasm, she twisted and rolled him off when it was over, and he had to fall upon the next one in line to try and sate his need. He was waiting for something, craved something more than these strange bodies. Searching through them was only starting to enrage him more. His eyes never left Mandie as she was mounted by each male in turn, all of them using her pussy to get off, then turning her over to the next.
It made him so angry while he could not find relief in a single one of the cunts offered up.
He fucked through them all, until all of them enjoyed an orgasm on his hard dick. Likewise, the males all fucked Mandie until they filled her with their seed, even though it would fall impotently into her womb. It was there to make her true mating easier, to adjust her to the feral needs of her male.
When the scent of her filled with rivals’ cum drove him to the breaking point, Todd surrendered himself to his urge and bolted out of the females’ grip. Barreling toward Mandie, any male that attempted to slow him down and keep him away from her was tossed effortlessly away. Yet they smiled. They all remembered what the transformation and the mating could be like.
When their new brother threw himself into mounting position and speared his female for the first time as a beast, they all grinned and laughed in their husky wolf voices. When Todd howled, the knot forming at the base of his cock at last, the entire pack sang it with him.
“Mandie,” the former human rasped, slamming himself inside her, feeling the strange swelling that formed and trapped him there.
“Todd,” she croaked in response, hazy and blissfully giving of herself. Their frantic, frenzied fucking truly began, her mate knotted inside her; both ensconced in the full splendor of their furred and regal selves.
The entire pack celebrated by falling into their own mated pairs and beginning the orgy that was to last until Todd came, and after a while, unknotted and slid from his new mate’s pussy.
Mandie felt herself cresting on that thick, hard portion of her boyfriend’s cock that hadn’t been there before, his palm grinding down on her clit with each shallow but hard thrust. The climax didn’t stop and he wouldn’t let it- not until he finally, finally shot her full with a roar, his entire being changed. Hers beneath him, different. Wilder. They fell together, kissing, unable to pry themselves apart, and the pack celebrated their new brethren with an incredible chorus of howls.
Mandie and Todd joined in, now safe in each other’s arms, knowing that they could grow and change as people. Together, but individually. They were torn apart and tested, but nothing changed their bond. Nothing had to, unless they wanted it to.
So they howled, until the howls turned into screams, and everything finally faded out. They collapsed together, entwined in the dark.
Trembling, still uncertain of what had happened to her friend, Betsy froze in place. The cool, plastic-y feeling hand on her arm was stroking up and down, and it seemed to come from nowhere. She whipped around, seeking the arm attached to the hand; as if materializing before her eyes, one appeared. It looked like someone wearing a latex suit, and it melted into existence in front of her eyes.
Strangely enough, shaped like a doctor. Complete with pronounced details on the rubbery chest in the shape of a stethoscope.
“Hello miss patient!” This anomaly greeted her, a faceless approximation of a human figure. It moved like a human, stood and had mass like a person, but it was nothing but full-body latex. A freaking talking plastic creature! “You’re right on time for your appointment. Don’t be shy now! Come on into the office!”
“Um, what?” The baffled woman muttered, taking a step back. Cripes, she did not envy the people in these suits having to wear them under the lights all night. Plus, how did they breathe? “Appointment? Ohhh that’s something. What are you gonna do to me?”
“Come on miss, I do have other patients to see! The nurse will make sure you’re situated while I take a look at your chart.”
A white one with a jaunty little cap and the old-fashioned uniform dress appeared from nowhere, just like the doctor, and Betsy blinked. It had to be trickery of some kind. The lights were disorienting her, or there were hidden doorways she couldn’t see to have these actors appear so fast. The place was little more than a bright box!
Even as she thought that, the walls constricted and took on more detail. It was all still blindingly white, upon which the “nurse” barely stood out, except for a sparse bit of red detailing. She approached Betsy and laid those cool, slick-textured hands gently on the woman’s shoulders.
“This way, miss patient! You can have a seat right here on the examination table while I check your vitals.” The white figure steered Betsy to the kind of adjustable table that all doctors’ offices had; another piece of weird furniture that had sprouted in the mutable room. This one was covered in black latex or vinyl as opposed to the white of the room or the nurse. Not entirely on her own power, Betsy sat, finding the plush seat comfortable even if the exposed skin beneath her dress was going to stick to the material badly. She shifted warily on the surface, finding a comfortable position. Exactly what kind of “scare” scenario was this? Were all these encounters so personal?
If none of her friends had gotten into this scenario, then where the hell were they?
“Gonna check my blood pressure and reflexes?” Betsy asked the faceless latex nurse dryly. To her surprise, the figure chuckled.
“Not this time, miss patient! We’re only concerned with your vitals today.” The nurse fussed over Betsy’s position on the seat, and tilted her forward. There was a second of confusion before those pure white plastic hands grabbed the skimpy princess frock and pull it off over Betsy’s head, causing her to sputter.
“Hey! What the fuck is this?”
“This is medicine, miss patient!” The doctor informed her, approaching with something that resembled a black latex clipboard in his fingers. Even the pages on it were sheets of black plastic material that didn’t even have any writing on them! Betsy stared, wondering where all this bizarre set dressing was coming from. The doctor impatiently tapped the “papers” of his chart with a pen of some kind. “It clearly says right here that you’re suffering a very serious condition. You’re supposed to be much more of a slut than this! We’ve got to get you tarted up stat with an emergency procedure. Please relax while we get you prepped!”
“What in the fuck are you talking about?”
…Is what Betsy wanted to say, but she was rudely interrupted from the first syllable out of her mouth as she was pushed backwards onto the slab of black vinyl. The examination table had unfolded behind her and expanded besides. Now she was fully reclining on it, her entire body laid out. All she had left on were accessories- underwear, stockings, shoes, and the tiara perched on her coif.
“Now this won’t hurt a bit!” The nurse said chipperly, and Betsy’s limbs were enclosed immediately, like the plastic material had become liquid as she sank strategically into it. From shoulder to fingertip, then hip to toe, she was devoured into vinyl and covered. Soon her head began to sink back too, and she cursed and cried out until her eyes were covered.
The eventual position she found herself in was on her back, arms pinned at her sides, breasts out. Her legs were bent upward and spread, but they were still somehow covered so only her crotch was open to anyone who could see it. Her eyes were totally covered, seamlessly. Miraculously, her pose was fully supported and somehow comfortable, but completely inescapable. Betsy tried to pull free, but nothing loosened even in the slightest. She was totally strapped in! With only a few bits of material to cover her.
“Oh my God!” She gasped, on the verge of panicking. “What is this? What are you doing?”
Latex hands smoothed themselves down over her chest and abdomen, cupping the roundness of her breasts, and Betsy hissed. The touch was… stimulating, and the doctor began to grope her harder, making her nipples poke out. Then her bra was cut apart, causing her to wail.
“No need to fret, miss patient. You’ll start feeling better shortly! Our first treatment will be simple. Your tits are a lovely shape, and your nipples absolutely perfect, but to achieve your peak sluttiness level, we’re going to have to enlarge them. Luckily we’ve discovered a method to do this without surgery!”
“What? What?” Betsy’s head was spinning. The massage of her tits stayed consistent as the ‘doctor’ and ‘nurse’ discussed the ideal size for her frame, and then there were noises of a liquid being measured, mixed, and sucked into some kind of dispenser. Betsy squirmed, body getting hot, both inside and out.
“Here we are, miss patient!” Said the nurse’s voice. Shortly after, her panties were also sliced apart with a neat precision, and something cold, cylindrical and unyielding was inserted into her pussy. The woman gave a shriek as a huge gush of liquid was pumped inside her, to the point she felt her womb and quim swell with it. It made everything below the waist incredibly sensitive, and she soon realized that wasn’t the only place swelling up.
Tenderness and heightened sensitivity started making themselves known in her tits. Her nipples tightened to impossibly hard, zinging peaks, and the hefty flesh of each boob grew heavier and larger by the second once the potion worked its way through Betsy’s body.
As this was happening, the two figures kept assessing and talking to her.
“Oh now that’s lovely,” The doctor praised as her generous Gs went up to Hs, then Is. They kept growing even beyond that, until the weight of them was like watermelons, crushing her chest! And fucking sensitive! Every time the plastics touched her, her pussy clenched. She grew wet, and felt the liquids inside dribbling out all over. “Just about perfect,” the doctor continued to coo. “You’re going to break necks when you walk down the street, miss patient. Your new breasts will be able to house at least five cocks at once when they’re finished growing! I’m sure you’re getting sensitive now, and before we can let you leave this office, we’ll need to make sure you’re safe to walk the streets! Otherwise you’ll bend over for anyone in full view of the public. Make sure you keep up your prescribed dick routine or you’ll be unable to contain your natural promiscuity!”
“Administering the next treatment doctor! This perfect whore will need at least three climaxes. I have a plug for her greedy cunt and the wand ready to go.”
“Do it. Make sure you apply the aphrodisiac gel to that dildo before it goes in. She needs to give in to her sexual needs immediately to become a full slut.”
“Yes doctor.”
Why were they saying these things to her? None of this was true! She’d only worn this outfit to let her hair down for a night! Right…?
Betsy was in a daze, and a slick, sloppy substance could be heard squirting out, getting rubbed onto something. A dildo, the black latex creature had said. She fruitlessly tugged on her arms again, to no avail, and her fate was presented by a well-lubricated fake dong that was shoved up her snatch moments later, causing her to moan. The huge toy lodged there, and it wasn’t much longer until whatever was on it began to absorb. Her cunt reacted violently, her arousal spiking hard, and shortly after, there was a click. Then a powerful electric humming began.
Betsy shrieked as her need for pleasure grew unbearable, and the nurse set a buzzing magic wand down on her clit.
“Ohhh god!” She moaned, and both of them seemed pleased.
“Excellent, nurse. She’s taken to the formulas well. Breasts have now reached the idea cup size and they are firm, full, and bouncy.” Her nipples were tweaked, and Betsy cried out, thrusting her chest against the touch. “Her pussy lips and clit are growing plump with the drugs, too. She’ll be so sensitive that orgasm will be achievable within minutes or seconds, and multiples more easily gotten. Any lover that touches her will enjoy quick climaxes and eagerness for further sexual congress. Her vaginal juices will also become addictive, until partners exhaust themselves trying to fuck her enough times.” Betsy moaned, body reaching peak frighteningly fast. It went off like a bomb.
She’d never come so quickly before. The dirty dialogue between the doctor and nurse was about to kill her with desire, as they talked about her like she wasn’t even there.
Until he addressed his patient directly once more.
“You’ll need to have multiple sexual partners, and be fucked several times a day, miss patient. The more the better. You cannot take enough cock or semen inside you, and any sex with any lovers you wish is best to keep your sluttiness satisfied. How’s that feel?”
The nurse was still holding the wand steady on her clit, but now shoving the dildo back and forth in her cunt with vigor.
“Oh fuck it feels amazing!” Betsy panted, gyrating her hips as much as she could against the stimulation.
“Excellent,” said the figure.
“She’s marvelously tight, doctor. I can already feel her second climax approaching, and I think we may have to push it to five at least. This one is a natural whore!”
“Fantastic, nurse. Don’t stop until you’ve hit five, then we’ll reassess. Now remember, miss patient, vaginal sex is best to keep your condition under control. Certainly do anal and keep it a regular part of your regimen, but you need to be fucked continuously in your slut pussy or you’ll risk public debauchery.”
Betsy gibbered and choked, her sweet, hot twat overloaded with sensation and her mind consumed with these things. The further the latex beings pushed her to have another orgasm, take another inch, the more she sank into it. The more she believed what they were telling her. She was living too buttoned up. Too confined. Which was she truly afraid of- somebody in a costume with a prop chainsaw running her down for ten seconds, or a lifetime of never being recognized? Never reaching heights she wanted more than anything…?
The nurse switched tools without ceasing the eternal torment of the magic wand (though she did turn it up higher). A bigger, textured dildo that was twice as thick as the first one was lathered with the aphrodisiac cream and shoved back in her pussy. This time the doctor stepped in and began driving the monstrous thing into his ‘patient’ with incredible effort, causing Betsy to seize in immediate climax.
“It’s working, doctor! The patient is achieving orgasm at a faster rate, and her vulva should stay plumped up and extremely sensitive permanently after the finishing injection!”
“Excellent. You’ll be our greatest success to date, miss patient. You won’t be able to resist a single sexual proposition, and your pussy will soon be able to climax on demand. There is no limit on what you should try to keep your urges in check! Fuck often and fuck hard, miss patient. We’ll administer your final treatment now!”
The nurse shuffled away on her latex toes, and all Betsy could feel besides the continuous pumping of her cunt and the heavy, intense vibrations of the wand was extra pressure as the nurse returned. Apparently the dildo in her now was fitted with a tube, because the woman heard liquid rush as it was shot directly into the rod and spilled out into her cunt. Another large quantity of fluid filled her to the brim and forced her insides to expand. This time, it was heated, and there came a corking sound. The damn dildo was plugged up and left inside as her fifth orgasm came crashing down around it.
Betsy began to scream. The last thing she heard was the doctor speaking.
“This tonic will slowly absorb into your pussy and womb, making you the oversexed bombshell you were born to be, miss patient. Give in and be the slut you know you are! Make us all proud! You’re meant to catch cocks, miss patient. Doesn’t matter who or how many- just often. Get yourself home safe!”
Betsy screamed long and loud as her cunt exploded, and then it all faded away into darkness.
One by one, the six friends stumbled from the haunted house, very well satisfied. On the outside none of them looked as mussed as they felt. Even if their clothes had been ‘destroyed’ while experiencing their fears, they were perfectly intact on the way out.
The Uber car returned for them as they waited together, worn out and yet glowing. The driver was the Crypt Keeper again.
“So how was it?” He greeted them with a grin as they piled together. None of them were able to accurately put words to the experience.
“Wow,” Artie managed, voice croaky.
“Erm… enlightening,” Donna intoned hollowly.
“Totally wild,” Mandie and Todd said in sync, the flow of it so natural.
“Just what I needed,” Betsy breathed.
“Unbelievable,” Riley finished for the group. The six of them finally looked at each other, and ultimately gave a round of little nods affirming what they all suspected.
The Crypt Keeper snickered.
“Sounds like a good time,” he said, almost knowingly.
They got back to the building a bit after three, and once the driver was paid and tipped, the group lingered in the lobby to say goodnight. They’d ride up on the elevator together only so far.
“I can’t even…” Donna broke the ice, shaking her head. “I mean what the fuck.”
“Emphasis on ‘fuck’,” Riley nodded.
“You think everybody else who went had the same kind of experience, or…?” Betsy trailed off. If they had, it was a well-kept secret.
“Not all of them, I bet,” Mandie said. “Maybe only some of us, for whom ‘fear’ means things that don’t go bump in the night.”
“Who would believe us even if we told them?” Asked Artie, and there rose a murmur of agreement.
“It doesn’t matter if they would,” shrugged Todd nonchalantly. “I think we… all got what we needed.” Another group consensus there: Affirmative.
“In the end, tonight was about enjoying ourselves, for ourselves,” Riley then wrapped up perfectly. “And really, what’s better than that?”
Nothing, they concluded, and bid their final good-nights. After piling into the elevator, the numbers parted to their respective doorways, and the holiday was done. Onto the rest of the season and inevitably another year.
Donna turned her attention toward someone she’d always had an eye on but never thought was the right time to approach. She said ‘yes’.
Artie came out to his friends and family, and it went so much better than he ever expected. That alone was a massive load off his mind. No more hiding.
Riley went on that solo cross-country road trip and saw all the historical sites they’d been dreaming of catching for years, finally putting their priorities- and themselves- first. Their choice.
Mandie and Todd eased into more individual hobbies and spent time apart, knowing that was just as important as time together. But… there was also swinging.
Betsy immediately put in for that promotion, got it, and learned to live for her own happiness and satisfaction. Especially when in bed.
When this crowd of steadfast friends went back to Howling Haunts Hall the following year, it was just a classic, if well done, haunted house.
And they too got to smile knowingly when they saw the glassy look of someone who’d faced their fears and gone down screaming.