HALLOWEEN HAVOC! To start the week by Candice Christian!

GREAT HALLOWEEN GIFTS FOR THAT SPECIAL NAUGHTY WITCH IN YOUR LIFE

 

TWAS THE WITCH OF NOVEMBER COME STEALIN'.jpg

PART I

Belle pulled the cape tightly around her as she made her way carefully down the cobblestone path lit eerily by the new moon. Cool November night air whipped at her fine sable skirts and long golden hair, the earthy scents of the forest teasing her nostrils.

She glanced once behind her at the dominating presence of the wooden towers of Owin Castle. Light from candles flickered in every window, guiding home the restless spirits who had passed into the otherworld during the long year. Behind one of those windows sat her husband of two months, deep in his drunken stupor. For the moment she would be forgotten, yet all too soon he would impose himself into her bed chamber.

Silently she made her way through the village. It was deathly still and deserted, the shutters pulled tight. Muslin wrapped bannock, a skillet bread, was left in offering for the dead returning to visit their kin. She felt isolated, alone. She had never left the castle without an escort, and never at night. But it was Samhain, when all things begin and end in darkness. No villager would leave the safety and warmth of their hearth on this eve, when the veils between the worlds was at its thinnest.

Belle did not believe in darkly things, or if she did, she doubted it could rival what came to her bed chamber each eve. Her husband’s lust for her was frightening. Obsessive. She lay still beneath him, yielding to him what was his right. Every time he took her, he sought to beget his child on her. And each time she prayed his seed did not flower in her womb, for surely that would bind her to him more than mortal vows ever could?

The hut she sought was apart from the village, nestled on the edge of the forest. As she moved toward it, her heart began to race. Maids spoke in hushed tones of the strange sounds and scents emanating from this hut, of the shadowed bodies coming and going during the night. Of pagan rites and witches.

Light flickered beneath the wooden door, as if beckoning her. No offerings laid before the door, no candles burning in the windows. Were the whispers true?

As she tapped tentatively on the wood, the door swung open beneath the force of her knuckles. Warm laughter teased her senses and drew her through the door. Two woman knelt on a rich rug spread across the wooden floor, yet her eyes were drawn to the one standing in their midst’s, her dark wine red hair spilling down her back and brushing against the creamy heart-shaped bottom, her pale arms upraised toward the heavens.

A gust of wind swirled around her ankles and slammed the door home with a crash. Yet she could not move. Her golden eyes were drawn to the woman turning toward her. Belle’s gaze moved over the lush breasts with their large pink nipples, the soft curve of hips and thighs with a tangle of red curls at their apex. The woman’s pale skin gleamed as though moonlight danced beneath her skin, and her fingers itched to touch her. As her gaze lifted to the triangular face with its strange beauty, she was mesmerized by eyes as dark as the midnight sky and glinting with jeweled stars.

The smoky scent of incense curled about her, filling the small hut with a dreamlike quality as the silence stretched.

“Leave us,” the woman spoke softly, the husky tones sending a shiver down Belle’s spine. The pair rose and slipped behind the small curtained alcove as the woman slipped a silver wrap over her nakedness. Belle suspected this act was more for Belle’s sensibilities than any embarrassment on the woman’s part.

Belle stood silently as the woman approached her, the silvery cloth shifting against her pale skin. Belle offered no resistance as long fingers untied the ribbons at her throat and parted her cloak, letting it fall to the ground to reveal the simple gown beneath that clung to her small high breasts and tiny waist. They two were of the same height, yet the woman made her feel tiny in her presence. Goose pimples raced along her skin as fingers slid warmly along her cheekbones and into the tumbled golden locks above her pink ears, drawing back the fine shawl wrapped around her face and hair. The shawl slithered to the floor in a pool at their feet.

“The whispers of your beauty are true.” It was stated factually, without admiration or envy, and for that Belle was thankful. She sought this woman’s help, and did not want her hatred. “They say the old men of the village weep as you walk by.”

“Merely from the dust stirred up by my boots,” Belle replied equally lightly. She was drawn to the shadowy V between the lush breasts, yet forced her eyes to remain on the strange, intense face.

An eyebrow quirked, a glint of humor in those all seeing midnight eyes. “You may join us, or not.” The woman shrugged.

Belle was surprised at the rush of longing that filled her at the woman’s invitation. “I can’t, I’ll soon be missed. I only came…” Her golden eyes rested hesitantly on the curtained alcove.

“There should be no secrets among women.” The woman turned, and stepped over several candles as she moved toward a low table upon which rested an intricately carved wooden chest. The woman lovingly touched its lid before flicking a seeking glance at Belle.

A delicate blush bloomed in Belle’s cheeks. “I sought a draught to aid sleep. I-”

“Say no more, lest the darkness carry tales.” Her blush deepened at the amusement in the woman’s voice. “Your husband’s affection is well known among the village keep.”

“You mistake me-”

“Do I? What a shame.”

Belle did not know how to answer. The woman withdrew a delicate bottle with a stopper, its frosted blown glass intricately woven with fiery colors. The woman crossed to stand before her. “This is a special potion. It is to be smeared upon your breasts or neck or even lips if you are careful. As soon as one tastes it, sleep comes almost instantly.”

Belle accepted the bottle, feeling a tingle as warm fingers brushed against hers. Unable to meet the woman’s eyes, she lightly traced the whorls on the bottle. It was strangely difficult to lie to her.

“Thank you,” she said softly. She did not need to ask if the secrets on this Samhain eve would be kept. Her trust of this woman was instinctive.

“There is something I ask of you in return.”

“Anything within my power,” Belle replied without hesitation.

“That you enjoy our festivities on Samhain night.”

“I –” the thought of her husband flashed through her mind, of the jealousy and suspicion twisting the handsome features at not finding her waiting. “Yes.”

The woman smiled, a seductive, luring smile that teased at Belle’s senses.

“Evlyn, Tess, come see to your mistress.” The two women stirred from behind the curtain, their glowing faces flushed.

“Your name?” Belle asked after her.

“I am Selene,” the woman said over her shoulder. Her hips swayed beneath the silvery cloth with each step.

Selene. Goddess of the moon. It fit, Belle mused. Then caught her breath as the woman let the wrap slide from her body. She was lush and womanly, vastly different from the willowy curves of Belle’s pale gold body.

Evlyn and Tess stepped easily from their gowns and knelt on the floor. The women were a contract to each other, Tess possessed a youthful earthiness whereas Evlyn held a more mature and subtle grace.

The three women knelt naked around a circle marked in precious salt. Witches. Belle had heard many tales of witches and broomsticks, of flying above villages with blood curdling cries as Samhain reached its zenith. Her sisters and she would huddle beneath bed covers to hide the glow of the candle as one by one they would make up stories more terrifying than the last. Yet this was no tale. These woman possessed an aura, a feminine knowledge that defied the authority of men.

Of their own accord her shaky fingers slowly untied the ribbons of her bodice. Belle wanted this. Wanted a taste of the forbidden, to escape her isolated world. To explore possibilities on an eve when darkness and light entwined at summer’s end.

She drew the silver combs from her golden tresses, letting them tumble heavily over her shoulders and catch the firelight. Head lowered, she slowly eased her gown down her arms to reveal her tiny mounds with their rosy crowns. The material slipped down over her hips to pool at her feet with the hush of fine cloth. Her shift soon followed before she crossed to kneel at the edge of the circle, blushing to the tips of her breasts beneath the intensity of their eyes. Belle was long used to the gazes of others, but this was different. They asked of her nothing, demanded nothing, simply acknowledged her for who she was.

Candles surrounded them; on tables, chairs, nooks, the wooden floor. The hut, though small, was a cozy sanctuary of exotic scents, luxurious fabrics and dark wood. Taking a deep breath, her lashes fluttered closed as she drew in the exotic incense. It felt as though whispering darkness coiled itself around her, sinking into her blood.

“Drink,” Selene murmured, pressing a goblet into her hands. Belle gazed down into the dark depths before raising it to her parted lips. The heady wine flowed easily over her tongue, tingling all the way to her belly. The goblet was filled from a skin, and passed around the circle many times as the candles flickered and burned.

Only mildly shocked as Evlyn and Tess kissed greedily, Belle laughed for the sheer joy of laughing. Her young body felt heavy and languid. Her nipples ached and a pulsing warmth thrummed between her thighs.

From somewhere appeared pots of oils in ruby, brown and gold. The women surrounded her, their feminine scent seductively sweet. Fingers dipped into the pots and drew swirling patterns over Belle’s soft skin of her shoulders and throat. She gathered up her silky strands in a pile atop her head, allowing the hands to roam freely over her body. Fiery heat swirled low in her belly as fingers traced tantalizing patterns over her breasts and belly. Soft moans escaped her as they explored her body, the oils warming on her flesh.

Her drowsy mind wandered as they eased her onto her back in the center of the circle, her golden mane a pool beneath her. Fingers moved over her hips, belly and thighs. Teasing, caressing, tormenting. But never touching the aching core of her.

She offered no resistance as they eased her feet wide. The fingers of her right hand were curled around a witch’s broom, and she clutched it for dear life. Blood pounded in her ears, her breathing came in small pants. Hands massaged the oils into her body, slippery against her wanton flesh.

“Hollantide Oiche Shamhna Samhain,” the voices chanted in ancient Gaelic, over and over as Belle felt herself soar.

Hands tugged and tweaked her tight nipples, molded the firm peaks. Fingers swept down over her belly and thighs, achingly close to the melting core of her. Her heart felt as though it would escape from her chest, her skin felt afire. The small hut whirled and disappeared to reveal a dark inky sky blazoning with stars. “I’m flying” she whispered, before darkness stole over her.

She woke sprawled before the hearth, wrapped in soft fur. She rolled onto her back, her eyes widening as they locked with midnight blue ones. Selene lay alongside of her, her head propped up on her hand. This close she could see the dusting of freckles across Selene’s nose. Belle ached to explore them with her tongue.

Her heart began to race as Selene leaned close, her breath warming Belle’s face. Soft lips brushed hers, then again. Gently they settled against Belle’s, unmoving. Moments passed before Belle’s sighed, tentatively kissing Selene.

They lay side by side for an age, exchanging soft caresses with their lips and tongues. Seeking, exploring. Their lips clung, melded.

“I never knew,” Belle breathed, reaching up to brush back a red curl, “that another’s touch could be so gentle.” Belle stilled. Culain. “I must leave.”

She rose gracefully to her feet and swiftly found her shift and gown. There was nothing to be done about the scented oils rubbed into her flesh. She dressed beneath watchful eyes, unable to look upon the silent woman.

She gathered her cloak around her and collected the fragile bottle. She paused at the door, looking back upon the woman sprawled naked on the furs, the dark red hair vibrant against her pale skin. “I must go.”

Selene smiled slightly, running her fingers over her breast temptingly. Belle turned and stepped out into the frigid night air, the darkness enveloping her.

END OF FREE SAMPLE

***

HALLOWEEN HONEYS FOR PB

PART 1

“Do I have to wear this G string? I’m going to show my butt to everyone, whenever I take a step?” I said to myself. ‘No, it’s time to be really naughty.’ I thought to myself ‘No G-String!’

Checking myself in the mirror, I thought I looked good enough to eat. Which I hoped beyond hope that Blake would do before the night came to an end. The thought of her made me start feeling hot again, so I tried to focus on the costume

When I was a kid, I never used to be nervous at Halloween. It was always a lot of fun to dress up and walk from house to house, playing little pranks and filling my bags with candy. But that was years ago.
This Halloween, I had all the reasons in the world to be nervous. I was risking more than just coming home with an empty candy bag. More than just getting scared by some neighbor’s seasonal japes. I was putting my life on the line.

The costume lay on my bed, neatly folded on the pillow to avoid getting it all wrinkled up. I looked at my clock radio; seven thirty. Almost time to get ready. The doorbell rang, and my thoughts were mercifully interrupted for a little while as I handed out a couple of chocolate bars to Frankenstein’s Monster and a cute little cowboy.
Back in the bedroom, I could find no more reason to stall, so I slipped out of my clothes, standing naked in front of my full-length dress mirror. I was freshly showered, still smelling of apple-scented soap and shampoo. I ran my fingers through my short, dark brown hair, feeling it for any tangles but finding none.

Then I touched my face, stroking the smooth skin, brushing against long eye-lashes and full, sensual lips. Down over my collar bone, one of my secret erotic spots that I hoped to get kissed tonight. I paused to cup my breasts, holding them up a bit. It was a bit chilly in the room, so the nipples were slightly hardened. I rubbed them with my fingers, pinching them lightly and feeling them stiffen even further. Jolts of pleasure coursed through my body, and I felt myself getting hotter ‘down there’.
Unable to resist, I let one hand leave my chest and travel downward, past my slim waist, gently touching my navel before homing in on that patch of neatly trimmed dark hair. I played with it, pulled at it, marveled at the sexy way the coarse, curly strands tickled the palm of my hand. I sighed with pleasure, knowing there was no way I could back away now.

I had to fulfill what I had started. Another check on the clock showed that I still had time, as long as I went for a quick one. So I reached down even further, touching my clit and at the same time shuddering in anticipation. I felt my juices starting to flow, running through my fingers, down my thighs. The doorbell rang again, and for a moment I actually considered answering it like this.

That would be some treat, I thought, laughing to myself as I put on a dressing gown. And probably get me arrested as well. Captain Jack Sparrow, a tiny witch and a bandage-wrapped mummy got some sweets in their bags, but after that, I turned off the porch lights. No more trick-or-treats for me tonight, except for the one I would be making myself.
Once more back in the bedroom I hurried to put the costume aside. Instead, I lay down across the bed, propping my head up with a pillow so I could watch myself in the mirror. Spreading my legs, I could clearly see some pink down there, which turned into a nice view of my pussy as I reached down and parted the lips. I like the way it looks; bright pink which turns darker the more excited I get.

Right then, it was quite dark. The lips are small and almost invisible unless I pull at them with my fingers, and the clit lies hidden at the top end beneath its little hood of skin. I don’t shave, since pubic hair is one of my major turn-ons, but I like to keep it trimmed. I ran my fingers up and down the slit, occasionally brushing against the clit and sometimes slipping into me.

With my other hand, I pinched and pulled on my stiff nipples, and all this attention was already starting to build into a coming climax. I sped up, running my fingers first down through the outer lips to collect some juices, then up to rub my clit, then down again.

Abandoning my breasts, I began to touch my anus with the fingers on my other hand. First just tickles, then a gentle rubbing, then actually penetrating. My butthole is another of my hot spots, and I love to play with it. Now I focused on it with one hand, and on my clit with the other, building up a steady, fast rhythm that would bring me off quickly. My mind turned to what I might be doing later that evening. Later that night.
Closing my eyes, I conjured a mental image of Blake; her long golden hair, sweet red lips and deep blue eyes. She was a couple of years older than me, and she was my best friend. I longed so badly to touch her, to cup her large, yet firm tits in my hands and feel the nipples tickle my palms; to slowly pull down her panties to reveal that blond patch of hair I had glimpsed a couple of times in the locker room and in the showers at the gym.

I would fondle that hair, touch it and feel it, then I’d let my fingers find their way in between her thighs, finding her most secret spot. I would get down on my knees in front of her, smell her, slowly reach out with my tongue and touch…
.
With a cry of bliss, I came harder than I had in months. I squeezed my eyes shut so hard I was seeing colors. Fingers still on my hot sex, I rode the waves of my peak until they began to subside. Then I licked my wet fingers clean, and went to fetch a wet piece of cloth to clean up the rest of the mess. Normally, I’m not very wet when I’m excited, but the excitement tonight had really got to me.

Once I felt clean enough, having used just a little hint of body scent to cover up the smell of my pussy, I got in front of the mirror and put on the costume. I had made it myself, so the fit was near-perfect.

It has a pleated skirt in the same pattern worn at the Catholic Girls’ School I attended back in Del Rio, Texas, years ago. It looked quite authentic, but so short it barely covered my butt. The white silk blouse was loose enough to guarantee my tits would bounce and jiggle with every step I took and sheer enough to show the shape of my breasts and their rosy highlights to anyone who wanted to look.

I was already imagining how the smooth texture of the silk would caress my nipples and keep them at attention for a whole evening of fun. I don’t know who she had embroider the school emblem on my blouse, but it looked just like the one I wore in school except for the part where my tit would be bouncing around underneath it for all the world to see.

White Sketcher’s and white stay up stockings rounded out the costume. How wonderfully delicious. I’d be dressed up like a child molester’s sex fantasy and if I was lucky, maybe the cute little nun would take advantage of me later.

I couldn’t just stand at her door dressed like this, with all my goodies on display, but I reluctantly put on the finishing touches. I never use much make-up, but I did put on some eye-shadow and a soft red lipstick.

Still looking sexy, I thought as I looked in the mirror again. Then grabbed my Navy P-Coat and headed out. It was gruesomely cold wearing so little clothes, so I ran to the car and started it up, turning the heat on full.

As I drove towards her apartment, I couldn’t help thinking about Blake again. We’d known each other since college, and even though I can’t say I fell in love at first sight, what I did feel was a connection, a friendship kind of love that only deepened when I began to realize I lusted after her. She was a bit shy, not really withdrawn, but not very outspoken, either, and her sense of humor was rather thoughtful than boisterous. And she was beautiful.

After college, when we managed to get hired by the same up-and-coming bio-tech company, she began to change. Now in her right environment, doing the kind of research she herself chose, she lost the last of the timid schoolgirl in her, and emerged from the chrysalis of time as a confident and competent woman. Which of course made me love her all the more.

We worked together, went out together, went on holidays together, and all this time I spent with her begun to wear on me. It was painful, being so near the one I loved without daring to say so, to touch her, to make love to her like I’d want to. But I couldn’t push her away, either.

So when she invited me over for a Halloween dinner, before our costume party, I made my decision. I would play all my cards, hoping for the best. I knew she wouldn’t hate me, wouldn’t shut me out of her life, but I also knew I would shut myself out of hers if she rejected me. I couldn’t go on being her friend. Remained to see if I’d be her lover or a stranger.

Busy with my thoughts, fears and hopes, I almost missed pulling into her street. I was already a couple of minutes late, and I didn’t want to seem like a complete idiot by saying I got lost driving the same way I’d driven so many times before. My knees were jelly when I parked the car and got out.

My teeth were clattering, and not just from the cold. I hurried inside, and while I waited for the lift I removed my coat. Hopefully, the costume would take the tension out of the situation, but the closer I got to her apartment, the sillier the idea seemed.

I would have had a better chance if I’d been dressed more conservatively, like I always did, this was stupid, she’d laugh at me and not take me seriously when I finally…
The lift arrived, and during the short ride to the sixth floor I took a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm my mind. It actually worked, and by the time rang Blake’s doorbell I had my costume in perfect order and a smile on my lips.

I was met by a brilliant smile when the door opened, but it faded quickly into surprise, then an amused grin. Blake looked me up and down, then shook her head before stepping aside, ushering me inside without comment. I hung up my jacket and took a look around.

There’s always some change in decoration, every single time I visit her place, and I quickly spotted it. Not the carved pumpkin or the spooky candles, but this time she had re-arranged the porcelain models on the mantelpiece. There were a couple of new ones, and some of the old ones were missing. I was going to say something about that, but when I turned around I also got my first good look of her.

And I felt my jaw drop, literally. A beautiful nun dressed head to foot in black stood before me like a sainted vision. I could just barely see her angelic face peeking out from the very modest uniform. But, when she turned around, everything changed.

The costume was completely transparent from her neck all the way down to the hem. The costume framed her creamy white skin and slender body like a picture of decadence against an inky sea of black material.

She wasn’t wearing a bra and the loose uniform pretended it might just move in some special way to show me both exquisite breasts. Her garter belt and matching thong were sexy highlights on her perfectly shaped ass. The black seamed stockings and very high heels shaped and formed her legs with a message that suggested she might be available for a little excitement.

Blake turned back and laughed when she saw the look on my face. “I’ve had a fantasy about what the nuns wore under their uniforms ever since I was in high school, baby, and I’ve decided it must be something like this. Don’t you agree?”

“If the nuns looked as good under their uniforms as you do, Blake, I think I’d still be back in school. Uh, do you happen to have a few minutes to spare, little girl?”

She laughed at me again. The veil she wore, left most of her hair exposed. Her long blond hair was cut short.

“Jesus, girl, what have you done to your hair?”

“Don’t you like it?” She ran her fingers through the short, stubbed do that was all that was left of her once so wavy blond tresses. Maybe two or three inches of length was all that remained. “I figured I needed something new.”

“Yeah, well, it looks… it looks great,” I stammered, feeling my cheeks burn a little. “I mean… it really does, I was just… surprised.”

“Me too.” She giggled as she reached out and stroked my sheer blouse. The feeling of her hand brushing against the skin of my breasts gave me goosebumps. “You’ve dressed up, Whitney. What are you, some kind of tease?”

“A molester’s dream.” I swallowed, trying to make myself continue like I had planned. “A kind of temptress, yeah, but one sent out to seduce innocent and guilty humans, snaring their souls for eternal purgatory.”

“Ouch. Are we gonna go trick-or-treating, then to the party?” She laughed. “I haven’t done that in ages! I had just figured we’d go down to one of the usual places to eat and then over to the party…”

“Well, I figured we’d need some kind of break of habit.” My throat began to feel dry, and I had to dig my fingernails deep into my palms to keep my hands from shaking. By some miracle, I managed to keep a steady voice. “Actually, I thought I’d ask you… well… trick or treat?”

“Oops, guess you caught me short then.” She shrugged, tilting her head in a gesture I had always found irresistibly cute. “I gave away the last of my candy to a drooling werewolf just a couple of minutes ago. Does that mean you’re gonna play me a trick, Miss Molester Dream?”

“Maybe. Or I might… I might give…” I took a deep breath, and held it for a second as I watch the look on Blake’s face change from amused to concern. I decided to go ahead while I still had my nerves, and before I made things even more awkward. “Maybe it’ll be me who gives you a treat.”

“Really?” She smiled warmly, her face lighting up like a Christmas tree. “My mom always taught me never to accept candy from demons, ma’am.”

“Not candy, Blake. I thought maybe… maybe you’d like to see my costume in full.”

“I already saw the whole thing. It’s great! So soft-looking, like they were a teenager or something.”

“No, it’s not that, I just need a second or two to get it all ready. Would you turn around?”

END OF FREE SAMPLE.

***

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