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From: Goldberry <Goldberry12spam@hotmail.spamcom>
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Subject: {ASSM} New Tom Bombadil - Herring and Banana Milkshake  [ halloween horror, humour, incest? ]
Date: Thu, 23 Oct 2003 19:10:05 -0400
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New from Tom Bombadil

Summary:  This is a halloween (ahem) horror story, the tongue-in-cheek 
kind.  In it you'll find H.P. Lovecraft, a junior-miss version of 
"Elvira, Mistress of the Dark", and a couple of other silly surprises.  
Keep your wits about you at all times, and watch out for flying toys.
PS: Don't wait for the other shoe to drop.

Posted with permission

Goldberry
Goldberry12spam@hotmail.spamcom (you can figure this out :)

Emails to me or posts to ass.d will also be read by Tom.

Enjoy!



Title: Herring and Banana Milkshake  [ halloween horror, humour, incest? 
]

by Tom Bombadil  (c) Oct 2003
Short story # 28
Filename: Herringm.txt


Disclaimer:  All the standard rules apply.  If you are offended by 
explicit descriptions of sex or the human body, if it is illegal to 
possess such materials at your location, if you are under-age by law in 
your location, or if somebody else thinks you might have too much fun 
reading it, stop right now and remove this text from your computer.

This is purely a work of fiction, with all characters and actions 
described by me coming straight out of my imagination.  As a work of 
fiction, it does not condone or condemn any of the activities or actions 
described, nor does it relate to any type of real events in my life, or 
known to me in the lives of any of my friends or relatives.

You've been warned.

********************************************************************

Cindy Harrison was scared.  She was also nervous, on edge, jumpy, and 
looking for something.  Besides all that, she was naked, on tiptoe, and 
in her big brother's bedroom.  She knew Tommy would be displeased if he 
found her in his room without permission, which probably accounted for 
her being scared, nervous, on edge, and jumpy.  The only good thing, as 
far as she was concerned, was that her brother wasn't anywhere to be 
seen.

His room was dimly lit and shadowy.  For some unknown reason the light 
switch didn't work, so the only illumination she had was coming through 
his open bedroom door from a light down the hall.  It was also dark 
outside, as she could tell by looking out her brother's window -- dark, 
except when boomers and screechers were going off, or near any of the 
dozens of jack-o-lanterns surrounding their house.

A tinkling noise, reminiscent of wind chimes but higher in pitch, could 
be heard as Cindy scratched absentmindedly at her delicate, white-and-
coral-pink, almost-hairless little pussy.  She was trying to decide 
where to search first.  The metallic tinkling stopped, mostly, when she 
made up her mind and started tiptoeing across the room.

Cindy almost tripped over a pair of jeans, making a louder tinkling 
sound as she did.  She wasn't exactly sure what it was that she was 
looking for, but she knew she had to find it, and fast.  Looking around, 
she could tell it wasn't going to be easy to find what she was looking 
for either, as her fourteen-year-old brother's room was decorated the 
way most teenage boys' rooms were decorated -- with unsteady piles of 
comic books beside the nightstand, collapsing piles of other stuff along 
the walls, clothes strewn everywhere, unidentifiable lumps and hills 
under the clothes, and every flat surface, including the bed, holding up 
ancient, hoary tomes of one type or another.

It wasn't in the closet, which Cindy found easy to search because it was 
almost empty.  It wasn't in the highboy which was also easy to check 
because it too was almost empty.  A cursory glance in the dirty clothes 
hamper confirmed that it went pretty much unused, containing just one 
lone action figure which looked like it had been lost there for a very 
long time.

When tiptoeing past the bed on her dainty toes, tinkling faintly, Cindy 
almost screamed.  It felt like *something* had reached out and grabbed 
her pretty ankle.  Luckily for her, it was only some weird, rope-tied, 
half-finished craft project.  Unfortunately for her, she tripped while 
trying to disentangle herself from it and landed on her softly rounded 
jiggly white bum, going "oof!" and making a muted tinkling sound as she 
did.  

She also bumped into his dresser.

One huge tome, hoarier, dustier and dirtier than any of the others, 
slipped, teetered, leaned, yawed, and then with an audible creak, 
overbalanced and *poofed* onto something soft that was lying on the 
floor hidden under a sweatshirt.  As it was dropping, a part of the 
title found some light and made itself known to Cindy -- "..ecromon..".

The book fell open, illuminated by a beam of light coming from somewhere 
that Cindy couldn't see.  One page was blank.  When Cindy tried to look 
at the other page, the symbols seemed to squirm and move around like 
they didn't want her to read them.

Suddenly everything went quiet -- really quiet.  Cindy held her breath.  
It was really, really quiet.  Far too quiet.  Outside was quiet.  Inside 
was quiet.  There wasn't even any tinkling.  Then, a faint hint of a 
whisper of a noise drew her attention to the far corner of the room, 
where it was really, really dark.

She stared hard into that corner, trying to see what was hiding in those 
shadows, hoping that it was only her imagination.  Hoping that it was 
only her brother.  Hoping that she could get out of the room before 
whoever or whatever was hiding in the inky depths could get her.

Then the shadows moved.

A tentacle with an eye on its tip looked at her.  Another tentacle, one 
without an eye, moved through some angles that were impossible for her 
brain to comprehend and reached toward her.

Then the shadows stepped out of the corner.

Cindy's mind froze, went round, then square, and finally tried to turn 
itself inside out trying to look at whatever it was.  Whatever it was, 
it didn't seem to belong on this normal earth.  Whatever it was, it 
definitely wasn't supposed to be in her big brother's bedroom.

Whatever it was, Cindy's almost-frozen primitive little hindbrain knew 
that it didn't care to wait around and find out.  It decided that here 
was not a good place to be.  Without any help or instruction from the 
rest of her brain, it ordered her long, slender legs to run.

Cindy sprang up and ran for the door as fast as she could, but tripped 
over another weird, rope-tied half-finished craft project that also 
seemed to reach out and grab one of her exquisitely-shaped ankles.  She 
quickly kicked that away, then started scrambling for the door as fast 
as her gracile little hands and cute, dimpled knees could carry her.

Something jumped into her hand.  It was a foot-long, candy-apple-red 
dildo with vibrating action, revolving beads, and a dual-control turbo-
powered battery pack.  Cindy went "Oooh, umm" at the warm memories it 
evoked.  Her vagina tried to twist up as small as it could at the 
memories it evoked.  She threw the dildo over her shoulder at the 
creature, which batted her plastic toy away with one of its many, many 
flailing tentacles.  She crawled faster, her teasingly clenched white 
bottom mincing deliciously, tinkling her way towards the open doorway.

A slimy, cold, wet tentacle touched her ticklish foot.  She yelped and 
crawled faster.  Another something jumped into her hand.  This something 
was an eight-inch-long, transparent purple gel butt plug with twisting 
and pulsing action and custom pearl-inlaid pistol handgrip.  Cindy went 
"Oooh, ahhh" at the delightful memories this item brought out, and a 
warm flush washed through her, from her toes to her fingertips.  Her 
demure little bottom hole winced at the memories, scrunching itself up 
even tinier than her vagina, running away and trying to hide behind her 
clit.

She threw her rubber plug at the creature too, with about as much effect 
as the plastic dildo had.  The creature didn't slow down, so Cindy tried 
to speed up, especially when another of its repulsive extrusions almost 
managed to wrap itself around one of her pretty ankles.

Escape, or at least the hallway, was only a couple of feet away when yet 
another one of those disgusting, slimy, ropy tentacles did grab one of 
her splendidly curved ankles, bringing her up short.

Cindy screamed.  And fell on her back.  And tinkled.  And screamed again 
when the creature started pulling her towards itself.

She threw everything she could reach at it.  Her brother's sweat pants 
just stuck and didn't do much.  The book "Home Piercing for Dummies" 
bounced off, also not having any visible effect.  She got dragged a bit 
closer.  A pair of her brother's crusty shorts didn't even stick, but 
they did leave little bits of gunk which mixed in with the slime.  

A leather-and-fur covered ping pong paddle followed, and Cindy went 
"Oooh, yes" at those more recent memories, flushing pink.  Her tiny, 
sensitive, barely-there breasts and full, round, sensitive bottom 
cringed, but had nowhere to hide.

A shoe missed the creature all together, bouncing off the wall and 
landing with a thump on top of a pile of action figures.

The other shoe caught the creature right square in its eye, the one on 
the end of that impossibly-bent stalky tentacle, and stuck.  That 
tentacle twisted away to somewhere else, taking the shoe with it.  
Another dozen stalky tentacles, each with differently shaped and colored 
eyeballs all over them, took its place.  All the eyeballs were staring 
straight at Cindy.  She screamed, tinkled, and threw some more stuff.

An open-breasted bustier with attached gel-coated, multi-speed, self-
heating vibrating nipple clamps was thrown next.  Cindy almost sighed 
with the pleasant memories that garment evoked.  At the same time, her 
long, pale pink, delectable nipples shrivelled up to almost nothing 
while trying to invert themselves because of the memories that garment 
evoked.

A set of twelve eight-inch-long skewers followed.  Cindy hesitated a 
split second before throwing them, those powerful remembrances almost 
making her pant with passion.  Her picture-perfect coral-pink labia 
majora crinkled and tried to make themselves inconspicuous, which was 
pretty hard to do when there was a half-dozen gold studs piercing each 
labium, and each stud had a large silver ring attached to it by a short 
gold chain, and all the rings were tuned to tinkle merrily any time they 
came into contact with one another.

The skewers had no effect on the creature, however.  Neither did the 
baseball or the football or the basketball or the soccer ball or the 
ping pong balls or the ben-wah balls, although the last couple of items 
did bring a blush to her cheeks.

When she threw the battery-powered electro-stimulator with the alligator 
clips and four optional sticky pads, she flushed even pinker and did 
start panting.  Her tiny, delicate, sensitive, very wet clit tried to 
run and hide, but her bottom-hole was hiding there first and kept 
pushing it back out in front.

Of course, the creature simply swatted her electro-stimulator away with 
another one of its now-hundreds of gooey, cold, green-slime-dripping 
appendages.

It loomed over her.  It towered over her.  It dripped cold, icky slime 
all over her -- on her taut, flat, lightly-tanned belly, on her long, 
coltish, lightly-tanned legs, on her long, slender, lightly-tanned arms, 
and on her white-and-coral-pink, very-much-not-tanned, delicate, soft, 
barely-starting-to-grow-hair-and-way-too-young-to-die mons.  It was 
reaching for her with more horrible ropey extensions, and hundreds of 
eyeballs were staring at her from every possible angle, looking at all 
her most intimate secrets, which Cindy still found embarrassing even 
though her intimates weren't all that secret anymore.  When some of that 
goo landed in her gorgeous, lightly-curled honey-blonde hair, she made a 
face and went "ick"!

The tentacles moved closer.  Cindy screamed again.  She kicked and tried 
to scrabble away.  She tinkled some more.  There was only one thing left 
on the floor that she could still reach, so she grabbed it and threw it.  
Even more warm, cozy memories suffused her as she recognised it while it 
was still sailing at the creature.  Her entire skin got goose-bumpy, 
crinkly and tight, and would have crawled off to hide behind the dresser 
if it could.

With yet another contemptuous wave of a tentacle, the creature attempted 
to swat that final, desperately thrown article out of the way as well, 
but somehow it and the tentacle got twisted together.  The creature used 
another tentacle to try and free up the first one, but the second one 
got just as entangled.  The same thing happened to a third, a fourth, 
and a fifth tentacle.  Slime was dripping everywhere, but especially on 
Cindy.

The creature was now concentrating more on getting itself loose from 
what had entangled it than it was on her, so Cindy, with a last 
desperate wrench, managed to free her lightly-tanned and well-slimed 
ankle and, in a musical tinkling of silver rings, started crawling away 
as fast as she could.

Taking a peek back over her shoulder, she could see that even this 
creature, with its hundreds of tentacles and other-dimensional places to 
move, was having just as hard a time as she did with her full body, 
customized, adjustable leather restraint harness with chromed buckles, 
extra attachment straps, and all of the optional D- and O-rings.

Cindy scrambled onto her petite feet and was out the door and most of 
the way down the hall when the light behind her went out.  With a quick 
backward glance, she saw that the creature, still struggling mightily 
with her second-most-favourite toy, was giving chase.

She almost flew up the stairs and around the corner heading for her own 
room, her dimpled bottom bouncing prettily the whole way.  The light at 
the top of the stairs went out just as she passed it, and then the one 
ahead of her went out as well.  A drop of cold green goo splatted on her 
jiggling, invitingly-swaying posterior as she skidded around one last 
corner and into her bedroom.  She tried to slam her door, but a whole 
host of tentacles, twisted into a mind-warping, other-dimensional tangle 
of pseudopods, leather straps and chrome buckles, got in the way and 
forced her door back open.  With yet another scream, she ran to the far 
corner of her room, automatically making a wide detour around her bed as 
she did.

There she stood, in the dark corner between her closet and her dresser, 
trying to become invisible.

Even as more and more of its tentacles were getting sucked into that 
unyielding almost-gordian black hole of a knot, the creature oozed into 
her room, crushing her bedroom door off its hinges and cracking most of 
the door frame as well.  It paused for a few seconds, those hundreds of 
eyes looking in every direction all at the same time.  The only light in 
her room was a faint yellowish glow coming through her gauze-veiled 
window from the street lamps outside.  However, that seemed to be enough 
for the creature as it began looming and towering its way straight 
towards Cindy.  She screamed.

She screamed again as the creature got to the corner of her bed, almost 
within tentacle reach.  She tried to force her naked body farther into 
the corner she was trapped in, her hands covering her face, her head 
turned away, praying that the wall would open up and swallow her.  Her 
tiny breasts jiggled, her silver rings tinkled, her pert bottom wiggled, 
and her shapely thighs quivered as she waited in dread for that first 
slimy touch.

Cindy waited.

And waited.

And waited some more.

She mostly stopped quivering and wiggling, but her not-yet-a-handful 
breasts were still jiggling as she peeked through her fingers.

The creature was still there, stopped just after it had rounded the 
corner of her bed.  Cindy was barely out of grabbing range.  It was 
still severely constrained by having many of its tentacles trapped in 
the other-dimensional twists of her logic-defyingly complex full body 
restraint harness.  However, that was not what was delaying it from 
claiming its tender, juicy, jiggling prize.

 From under her bed there stretched two long, very powerful-looking arms, 
covered in fur that was mostly purple, but also liberably sprinkled with 
pink polka dots, with a few irregularly-shaped splashes of neon green 
and orange thrown in for contrast.  Those arms bent in odd places, but 
at the ends of them were two very large, very powerful-looking furry 
hands.  Those hands had hold of some tentacles, and they didn't look 
like they were going to let go no matter how much green goo got dripped 
on them.

Those arms started pulling.  The hands held tight.  The creature was 
trying to loom and tower away from the bed, but wasn't getting anywhere.  
Green icky ichor, cold and slimy, was being flung all around the room 
from the ends of the creature's flailing appendages.  The tasty teen 
said "ick" again when some splatted on her still-jiggling tiny teenie 
titties.

Cindy stared, almost hypnotically fascinated, at the titanic struggle 
being waged right in front of her eyes.  Those huge, monstrous arms and 
massive, grabbing hands held fast, and they were ever-so-slowly dragging 
that catatonia-inducingly bizarre creature closer and closer to the edge 
of her bed.

The only sounds in her room were the creaks from her bed as it slowly 
lifted up and down from the floor, the odd splat when slime landed on 
something splattable, and a faint, melodious tinkling.  Neither the 
creature nor the monster made any noise.

With wide eyes, Cindy watched the creature from elsewhere battle with 
the monster that lived under her bed.  The creature had a dozen 
tentacles wrapped around each of the monster's arms and was squishing 
and pulling with all its other-worldly force, trying to pull the monster 
out from under the bed, or at the very least, make it let go.  The 
monster, however, was having none of that.  It held on and pulled with 
the all the accumulated strength of a lifetime of little girl nighttime 
terrors.  Her room was getting covered in goo.  Her pink-frilled, puffy-
pillowed, stuffed-animal-covered, lace-draped four-poster bed was 
getting covered in goo.  Some of the cold, slimy gunk splatted on 
Cindy's belly, dribbling down and giving her adorable white-and-blonde-
and-coral-pink snatch a thick coating of sticky sludge.  She went "ick" 
once again, but even that didn't distract her from gaping at the drama 
unfolding right under her nose.

Her monster was winning.  The creature was slowly but inexorably being 
drawn under her bed.  Her bedposts were straining mightily against the 
ceiling as the creature's body was being pulled through a far-too-narrow 
gap.  Her monster's arms were straining in herculean fashion, muscles 
knotted everywhere, dragging that huge, multi-dimensional bulk through a 
far-too-narrow gap.  Even with most of it's tentacles tied up in her 
full body restraining harness, the creature was putting up a tremendous 
struggle.

It was dragged a little farther under.

Then it was dragged a little more.

Then a little more.

Then it was almost gone, with only a few tentacles still scrabbling 
feebly at the hardwood floor.

Then it was gone.

Her bed was still pushed to the ceiling, and it was vibrating.  The 
creature had dragged all her pink frilly bed coverings, white sheets, 
pink lacy shams, stuffed animals, feather pillows and most of the sheer 
lacy pink draperies with it.

Her bed's vibrating slowed, then stopped.  It sank to the floor.  It 
bounced a couple of times, then settled.  Cindy watched and waited.  The 
near side of her bed rose and settled one more time, almost like a burp.  
Then everything was quiet again.

After a minute or two, Cindy took one hesitant step out from the corner, 
stepped in some cold, wet slime, said "ick", and stopped.

She waited for something to happen.

Nothing happened.

She waited for the creature or the monster to make a sound.  Any sound.

There was no sound, except for a slight tinkling that kept time with her 
heavy breathing.

She waited some more.

Still nothing happened.  

Until . . .

Behind her, the closet door opened silently.

Two long, bone arms, with thin bone hands attached to them, reached out.  
They hovered behind Cindy for a few seconds, perhaps conferring on which 
hand would get to grab which favourite part.  When they finally did 
move, it was lightning fast.  Cindy squeeked, then screamed and started 
kicking her long, eye-poppingly cute legs and waving her long, 
sensuously slender arms.  Her tiny breasts jiggled again, her pert 
bottom wiggled again, her shapely thighs quivered again, and her silver 
rings tinkled louder than ever.

She was being dragged back into her closet.  She could feel a cold, hard 
bone hand grabbing at her soft, sensitive breasts, and cold, hard bone 
fingers digging into her warm, juicy quim.  She screamed yet again.  She 
was pulled back farther.

And farther.

She could see the closet door, so she tried to grab it, but her fingers 
failed to find purchase.  The same with the door frame.  All that gooey 
ichor all over everything caused her grip to slip.

Then she was in the closet, and the door was closing.  

It closed slowly.  The light became fainter.  Something thick, hard, and 
cold, something that felt very bone-like, was pressing against her 
backside.  It was pressing very hard and very intimately at the bullseye 
of her backside.  Her backside protested by wiggling even harder.

The closet door slammed.  It went totally black.  It went in.  Cindy 
screamed.

And screamed.

And sat up.

That last scream was still echoing in her mind.  Her little chest was 
heaving.  Her little heart was pounding.  She was even perspiring, a 
little.

With great trepidation and anxiety, she quickly looked around.

She was in her own pretty pink-and-pearly-white-painted bedroom.  

She was in her own pretty pink-and-white bed.

There was no green goo.  

Her bedroom door was still on its hinges, open like it usually was.  The 
door frame wasn't cracked and smashed.  The light in the hall was still 
on, as usual, and was illuminating her in the middle of her bed, as 
usual.  She flipped down the covers.  She was naked, as usual.  

There was no green goo.  

She frantically checked her beautiful, honey-blonde, lightly-curled 
locks.

There was no green goo.

She looked around some more.

The closet door was closed, as usual.  Her stuffed animals were piled up 
all around, as usual.  Pink lacy curtains hung from the bedposts, 
framing her bed, as usual.  Tommy was there beside her, as usual.  He 
was slow to wake up, as usual.

"Are you okay, sis?" he yawned.  "I thought I heard something."

Her breathing was almost back to normal, and her heart no longer felt 
like it was trying to break free and fly out the window.  She took one 
more good look around the room but didn't see anything strange or out of 
place.  The nightmare was fading quickly.

"I guess," was her reply as she sank back into her pillows.  "I just had 
the weirdest dream."

Tommy squirmed a bit closer and put a strong arm around his sister's 
slender, well-defined waist.

"Wanna tell me about it?" he asked with a suggestive lilt to his voice.

"No, it was just too weird.  Way too weird."  She turned her head and 
looked him straight in the eyes.  "Way, way, waaaaay too weird.  Tommy, 
I am never, ever going to let you trick me into drinking a herring and 
banana milkshake again.  Never!" she admonished, shaking a finger at 
him.

Her brother laughed and cupped one of her tiny, warm, sensitive breasts.

"Don't say never, sis, 'cause you never know what might happen in the 
future.  Right?  Besides," he snickered, "next time it might be a 
strawberry and sardine milkshake."

She poked her cute pink tongue out at him, throwing him a quick moue.  
"You are impossible!"

He moved his hand to her other tiny, warm, sensitive breast.  With a 
contented sigh and a pretty smile, she covered his hand with both of 
hers.

He smiled back, winked, and opened his mouth.

It opened wide, then wider, and then wider still, until it was open 
wider than any human mouth ever had a right to be.  Out of it slithered 
a rope-like yellowish tentacle.  It was as fat as Cindy's wrist.  The 
end was flat, fringed with a dozen tiny two-inch-long finger-like 
tendrils that were waving around, looking like they wanted to grab hold 
of something -- preferably something warm, soft, and very sensitive.  In 
the center of its flattened tip was a small slit oozing slime.

Cindy stared wide-eyed at that thing as it distended its way out of her 
brother's mouth, watching it wave back and forth, dribbling hot, clear, 
straw-coloured slippery goo, as it went searching for her oh-so-
delectable flesh.

Suddenly, the laugh of a happy teenage girl filled her room, followed by 
a pleasant, high-pitched tinkling noise as Cindy rolled over onto her 
brother.  

"My God, Tommy," she giggled, "are you still horny?"


<<FIN>>

********************************************************************

Author's notes:  

This story, as originally written, was flash-length (<500 words).  
Something not of this earth must have taken over my computer in the 
middle of the night and made the story swell to its current pussy-
stuffing, other-dimensional size.  <GBG>

There is no "Home Piercing for Dummies" book.  There are excellent 
information resources on the net.  Pay very close attention to the "do 
not attempt this at home" advice and the "personal health and safety" 
advice.  The life you save may be your own.

The descriptions for the various "toys" are for real merchandise 
available from different online catalogues.  This includes the 
vibrating-and-revolving candy-apple-red dildo, the twisting-and-pulsing 
purple gel butt plug (sadly without the custom pearl-inlaid pistol 
handgrip), the fur-and-leather covered ping pong paddle, the electro-
stimulator, the gel-coated multi-speed vibrating nipple clamps, the 
custom restraint harness with blah-blah-blah, and, yes, even the "wind 
chimes".  --  Wow.

********************************************************************

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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