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Message-ID: <45052asstr$1067505006@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: pleasecain@aol.com (PleaseCain)
Subject: {ASSM} [PleaseCain] Boo!
Date: Thu, 30 Oct 2003 04:10:06 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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EXPLICIT MATERIAL NOT INTENDED FOR MINORS.

Copyright 1996 PleaseCain@aol.com -- Commercial use prohibited without author's
consent.

Boo!
by PleaseCain

Two wide-eyed kids stumbled through eerie shadows, bumbling straight for the
closet where I hid.  I sprang out with my cape raised and my fangs bared.

"Time vor my dinner!  Care to join me?  Blah!  Blah!" I shouted down at them. 
The poor critters looked like they might have heart attacks.  They jumped away,
and into the clutches of Barb behind them.

"My, what luscious, yummy children," she blurted, and drew them into her
cobwebbed robe.  The children leapt off like rabbits.  Barb sent them packing
with a hair-raising witch's cackle.

I was going to take my place again when the call came from up front:  "That's
it!"

Barb looked at me in surprise.

"What, we closed?" I shouted back.

"That's all," the ticketman answered.  "Go ahead and lock up, and let's call it
a night."

"That's early," I remarked to Barb.  "Guess no one showed up.  Too cold."

"And it's a schoolnight," she added.

"You were really good tonight," I said.  "With those kids.  Must be your line
of work."  She was a teacher at the elementary school.

"Me?  I was just cleaning up after you all night," she responded.  Her warm,
brown eyes met mine, then looked down again, like a fawn's.  "They really loved
you."

"Well, I get into this, actually.  There's a special feeling you get, you know?
 When you hit your groove and you know you're helping people have a good time."
 The door out front slammed shut, and I knew we were alone, because the
tickettaker and the ghouls rode together.  It was rather exciting, like high
school, sort of.

I determinedly continued, "I remember when I was young, the haunted house was a
pretty magical place."  I kinda had my eye on Barb since the day I changed the
furnace in that tiny house she bought  a few years ago, but I only saw her
around every so often.

She wasn't beautiful, but nice.  Sweet.  Kind of that schoolmarm thing; shy,
conservative, but warm.  I always figured she was too sophisticated to be
interested in a guy like me, but all the same, it was a nice surprise the way
we ended up working together here at the Jaycee's house, and even better the
way we got along.  Her smiles could melt me, they were so ... comfy, I guess.

Chill, fool, I kept telling myself, it's only a smile.  Don't make a goof of
yourself.

But darned, if I wasn't seeing those smiles more often.

"Yeah, me too," she said, filling up space.  She was holding her bag awkwardly
before her, both hands grasping the handle.  It was time to go.  I reached for
my coat.

She mumbled, "You look great, as a vampire, I mean.  Scary, yet suave, uh,
romantic.  Like a vampire of one's dreams, that little girls, kids, fantasize
about."

"Gee, but you looked great, too," I returned eagerly.  "I mean, not only do you
have the laugh down, but you look exactly like what you picture a witch should
look like."  I paused, flustered.  "I mean that in a good way."

"Why, thank you, I guess," she giggled.  She bent to place the bag down and
look at herself, and curtsied.  "The role of a lifetime."

When she looked up again, she had stopped laughing.  An interminable moment
passed, as her empty hands hung suspended in the air, idle, uncomfortable.  We
beheld each other.  She bit the corner of her lip.  I plunged upon her, as if
drawn by a magnet.

We banged against the flimsy plywood wall behind her, a melee of wet lips and
tongues, of slobbers and blasts of breath.  Her hands grasped my hair and
crushed my face against hers.  I clumsily felt up her back from her shoulders
down to her upper thighs.  Our bodies writhed together, until she squirmed from
the embrace, bending down slightly to reach beneath the folds of her flowing
dress.  Oh boy!

I quickly unzipped the tuxedo slacks I wore, and distinctly remember seeing her
witch's hat smashed under my shoe.  Barb stood again, waiting.  As I
approached, she kicked her foot onto the table holding our Ouiji board.  Around
the ankle of her pointed black grannyboot hung a pair of white panties.

We started upon each other fitfully, for her arms were in the way, fumbling for
the hem of her dress.  Finally, with difficulty, she raised the front of the
unwieldy fabric to her hips.  She thrusted upon me, but when I saw her panties
like that, I had other ideas.

I fell to my knees, and there was her beautiful, hairy pussy, spread open
before me in the eerie purple and green shadows of our chamber of horrors.

"Oh god," she whined in realization.  A dewdrop hung suspended upon a string of
hairs hanging from her lips.  I led with my face, eager and ravenous.  Our
plywood backing once again shuddered in protest behind her.

My lips and chin were soaked in seconds as I attempted to mouth her sensitive
spots in the dull light.  Her tangy scent and her grunting spurred me into a
frenzy, licking the entire area of her pussy, front to back, in an effort to
connect somewhere.  She bore down upon me; her foot moved further on the table,
so that she leaned precariously forward, spread wide.

At first, she had held her dress up and then pulled my head to her with a few
spare fingers.  Now, she grasped the hem tightly and wrapped the cloth around
my head in a sling, which she mercilessly ground into her.  At that point, I
forsook all technique and just pressed my mouth and chin, my lips and nose, and
my entire face, into her sweet crotch, content to simply rub her off and to
catch an occasional breath.  My hands pulled and pinched the soft round cheeks
of her ass, which had looked so appetizing when I first saw the outline of her
exposed cleft.

She bucked upon me, and her thighs tensed.  The heel of her boot clicked
periodically on the table.  I wanted her, and wrenched myself away.

I pushed her back roughly with both hands to allow myself to rise again.  She
slouched desperately before me, a transformed creature, looking at me with
heavy eyes.  Her nose and chin were flesh-colored, in contrast to the green
makeup on the rest of her face--the result of her fake nose and chin having
fallen off.  I would have looked laughed, if I wasn't so desperately horny. 
Instead, I bent down and pulled the bothersome dress off her body and over her
head, and chucked it disdainfully to the floor.  She stood before me in only a
teeshirt, ridiculous knee-high witch's socks and her grannyboots, her panties
still dangling around the ankle.  She was obviously impressed by my show of
force, and her arms reached to my shoulders in surrrender.

"Please," Barb begged in a whisper, but didn't wait for my response.  Her hand
tugged my erection from my shorts and pulled it roughly to her.  Her grasp was
so tight that I really couldn't feel what was going on down there, except that
I knew I wasn't inside her.  I think she was frigging herself with my dick,
rubbing it all over her.  I pressed closer, trying to get her to slide me in.

Barb moaned and thrashed her head occasionally about while she arched into me. 
W necked like animals, and our teeth clicked often.   At one point, I felt a
sharp pinch, and knew by the salty taste that my lip was bleeding, though we
continued unabated.

She became wilder, licking my lips, and then my entire face.  Her frenetic
lapping soon included tiny nips at that sore spot on my lips, and I drew back
repeatedly in pain and anger.  Each time, I went back on her with more force,
thrusting my hips against her, seeking entrance.

"Bite me," she croaked hoarsely.  "Take me ... suck me ..."  Her incessant
pleas became more forceful, and were soon angry commands.

Suddenly, I knew I was in her, not from any great, new sensation, but for the
fact that she had seized my head in both her hands, leaving my cock in place. 
Her hands pushed my head back for an instant.  Barb looked me in the eye.

"Suck me ... feed on me."  She craned her head backwards, and pulled my head to
her smooth, straining neck.  Whatever, I thought, and I nipped the taut skin,
then pulled it out between my teeth.  It had to hurt, but if she gets off on it
...

I was concentrating more on my thrusting, careful not to slide out.

She tore my head back from her with surprising force, and demanded, almost in
rage, "Bite me!"  My cock had almost slipped out with her joustling, and I was
trying to maintain that end of it, so I was entirely unprepared for what she
did next.   With all her might, it seemed, she slammed my head again into her
exposed neck.  I felt the bang upon my teeth.  At the same time, she arched her
pelvis to mine, and I felt her warmth.

I reciprocated by pushing further into her, and then drawing out.  As I began
to fuck her in earnest, I felt hot, salty liquid flooding my lips and chin.  I
knew she was bleeding, but I nuzzled deeper into her.  Actually, during those
frenzied moments, I couldn't tell much of anything.  She seemed pretty
experienced at this game, so I let her lead, although I can tell you that my
mind was not thinking quite so coherently at the time.

"Yes," she breathed.  "Oh, yes!"  She fucked me, and clutched me tight.  Then,
darnedest thing, she pounded my head with the edge of her palms even more
forcefully into her neck.  The flow seemed to increase, but I was fucking
harder, almost out of spite for her beating me.

"Oh, god, yes!" she rasped.  "Eat me ... I am yours, your prey, feed on me!"

We fucked like savages, in abandonment.  The hot blood bubbled into, and ran
out of, my gasping mouth.  The plywood at her back fairly shrieked its
protestations, but neither of us paid attention, until it snapped.

Barb fell backwards, and I slammed on top of her.  She let out a long wheeze. 
I knew the wind was knocked out of her, and I was lifting myself to see if she
was all right, afraid I may have seriously hurt her, but she would have none of
that, and she pulled me onto her.

"Finish me," she cried, depraved.   "Take the rest of me."

She was obviously OK, so I reached down and reinserted my dick.  She purred a
wicked, low laugh, then grasped my head to her throat again.  She held me
tight, her legs drawing my hips to hers.  One of her heels spurred rudely up my
ass.

"Feed on me!" she shrieked.  Her throat rammed into my teeth again.

"Finish me!" she demanded.  Well, I thought, I suppose it was time to finish
her.

I banged into her with all my energy.  With this friction, I knew we wouldn't
last.

"Yes, yes, oh yes," she chanted frantically.  The hot flow from her neck
continued to drench my chin and neck.  One of her hands pulled my face into her
neck so that I had difficulty breathing.  Her other hand clawed at the flesh of
my back beneath my cape.  She ripped hard.  It made me buck even harder.

My orgasm was short and violent, like a few long threads of cum were being
drawn out.  I had to stop, before my peter fell off.  But Barb wasn't quite
done.

"Own me, possess me," she pleaded, and kept right on humping against me. 
"Claim me as yours, oh please."

I stayed with her, holding her, exhausted, like her fucking post.  As I lay
there, I slowly came to again, and I noticed how wet she was.  We were both
wet.  Soaked.

I rolled over, tugging myself loose from her embrace.  I stared in shock.  It
was blood, buckets of it!  Everywhere!

"Master," she whined and reached for me with both arms.  "Don't leave me.  No."

She was bleeding pretty good from her throat too.  I wiped my mouth with my
sleeve.  "B ... Barb ..."

"Come back," she beseeched me.  "Be my vampire.  Take the rest of me."  With
that, Barb rolled toward me, and her back made a sickening peeling sound.  A
large circular saw clattered to the floor.  It had been stuck in her back!

"B ... Barb ... Barb, now don't panic," I stammered, fighting the urge to
retch.  Calm down, I thought.  "Everything's going to be all right," I squeaked
feebly.

"No, Master."  She seized my hand, then reached around with the other and
plopped the dripping saw into my lap.  "Make me cum."

"What ... did you say?"

"Yes, I need to cum," she told me straightforwardly.  "Make me your little
snuff victim."  Those last two words, "snuff victim," she said in babytalk, of
all things.  Her hips swivelled seductively, like an animal's in heat.

I only blubbered stupidly at the contrasting images.

"Come on, Darklord," she teased at me.  One hand pushed mine to the saw handle.
 Her other hand trailed a lazy finger around her erect nipple, then dragged it
slowly down to her navel, pooled full and crimson, and then up to flick and
fondle her other nipple.  "Or should I call you Sam Hain?"

If I could have been any more freaked out, it was at that moment.  Sam Hain was
a screen name I used for online flirting on the IRC and other online services.

"I know all about you," she giggled coquettishly, "how you like to suck 'em
dry, and dice 'em up."

I didn't know what to say.  I wanted to ask who she was, what her screen name
was, but the strength had left me.  She took my hand without resistance, and
drew my index finger between her lips, into her mouth.  I skittishly avoided
her gaze, instead watching as she placed my wet finger on the trigger of the
saw.

"Make my, our, dreams come true," she implored.  Her pale body trembled in
anticipation.  "You know I want it.  Most women do."

I looked at her quizzically.

"Yes, we do," she purred, drawing me in.  "You don't think all those snuff
posts on on the sex newsgroups are from guys, do you?"

She laughed, and wrapped her hand around mine, around the saw handle.

"Yes, most women want to be cut into pieces," she smirked, "need to be cut into
pieces.  We just don't admit it in front of guys.  You didn't know that?"

Her hand tightened around mine.  Her pubus rubbed on my knee.

"Silly, naive boy," she teased, "You probably think that 'no' means 'no,' too,
don't you?"  She laughed vehemently, then stopped just as suddenly.  "I just
want to be Sam Hain's snuff toy.  Yes I do.  Yes I do," she cooed improbably,
coaxing me to do the unthinkable.  My mind was numb.

"Now, make me YOUR woman," she commanded suddenly, with her cold body writhing
weakly against me.  "I have an amputee fetish that needs to be sated, and I
need to cum.  Damn it, won't you make me cum?"  She was getting surly.  She
pulled my finger against the trigger.  The saw whirred to life, inches away
from her.  "Do it!" she barked.

I cowered in place.

That's when she impatiently seized my hand in hers, and drew the spinning blade
closer, so close.  Instantly, one of her fingers flew against the wall across
the room.

"No, no, no!  You're doing it all wrong."  She grabbed the tool away from me in
disgust.  "Like this.  See?"  With workmanlike precision, she sawed off her
left arm below the shoulder.  "Oh yes," she moaned above the din.  "That's what
I like!"

She shoved the saw back toward me.  "Now you do it," she said, matter of
factly.   Then Barb reclined seductively on the floor, eyes closed, waiting. 
After a few seconds, she threatened, "Don't make me open my eyes.  Hello?"  In
a while, she finally did.  She snatched the saw from me like I was a
nincompoop.

"All right, weakling, I'll take you by the hand," she spat disdainfully.  "You
twiddle my crotch, like that, and I'll do the dirty work!  I swear, if you want
a job done right ..."

"Mmm," she groaned as I fingered her, more out of fear than anything else. 
Suddenly, vwoomp! she brought the blade down, and lopped off one of her feet. 
I cried aloud and shut my eyes tight, and diddled and prayed for all I was
worth.

She also cried aloud.  I felt her pussy spasming beneath my fingertips.

Weeeeee-yahh!  Something else was severed, the bone screeched, and then the
material thumped away along the floor, thrown by the powertool.

"Oh, god yes!" she screamed.  Hack!  Hack!  Hack!  Screech!  Thud.  "Yes, yes,
yes," she cried.  She was very wet.

This went on forever.  When will it stop?

"Hey.  Hey."  I was being poked.  "Hey, Master of Darkness, get up."

I opened my eyes.  There she was, panting and sweaty before me.

"Hey, Mr. Satanic Secret Service, you missed a record-breaking orgasm.  Amazing
orgasms."

It wasn't a dream.  There she was, only an arm connected to a head, with the
deactivated powersaw in her remaining hand.  Her grimy face smirked at me.

"That was probably the best you ever did for a woman, and there I find you,
passed out like a wuss.  Oh well, at least one of us got off, right?"

I just stared down at her, shaking my head.  I wanted to cry.  What did she do
to herself?

"All right, Sourpuss, might as well finish the job," she chirped.

I kept shaking my head, devastated for her.

"What do you mean 'no,' Count Petticoat?" she blurted.  "I can't very well go
to work like this tomorrow, can I?  CAN I?"

I still shook my head.

"Well, all right then, let's finish up and call it a wrap."  She tossed the saw
into my lap, where it thudded heavily.  She winked at me and clicked knowingly
out of the corner of her mouth, adding, "I could tell this was going to be my
lucky night."

She whistled "A Spoonful of Sugar" while I fingered the handle and stared
incredulously.  I looked to heaven, so God could see my tears, then clicked the
saw to life, and did the deed.



Sunlight leaked in around the edges of the door when I finally nailed the
floorboard down.  I was going to retrieve the mop for yet another good
scrubbing, when I figured, Naw, no point, I'll have to burn it down.

I hopped in the car, and returned with five gallons, with which I splashed the
rooms down.

When I entered the Vampyre's Lair, I heard a distinct scratching.  I looked
around, silently, ready to flee.  More scratching.  It was the Ouiji board on
the seance cardtable.  I moved closer.

The Ouiji pointer spelled words to me.

H-O-W-D-Y-P-R-I-N-C-E-S-S-O-F-E-V-I-L-T-H-A-T-W-A-S-I-N-C-R-E-D-I-B-L-E-I-
L-O-V-E-Y-O-U

I was dumbfounded.

"Hm."  I shrugged my shoulders and walked out.

I struck the match, watching it burn.  Then I blew it out.  I bolted into the
trailer, back to the Vampyre's Lair.  I tucked the Ouiji board under my arm,
and stuffed the pointer in my pocket.  Outside, I lit another match and
finished the task, then drove straight, as far as I could.

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