Moonlight, silver and bright, stole across the dew soaked yard. The glistening blades of the chill grass shimmered against the black backdrop of night as the streets hummed with the cries of goblins and ghouls. Clad in their myriad costumes, the neighborhood children raced into the evening gloom, their little fists clutching bags and buckets, filled to the brim with colorful wrappers and crackling plastic packages. 

“Looks like the kids are out,” said an orange and white cat. Resting her palms on the windowsill, she peered out into the night with eyes the color of uncut emeralds. Her slender frame was clad in little more than a long tee shirt, which failed to conceal the ripe curve of her slim waist as it swelled into a pair of shapely buttocks. “Neighborhood is really alive tonight.”

“Of course it is, Heather,” came a high laugh from the living room. Another feline, a Siamese, padded softly on the blue carpet, a wide, flat box clutched in her brown paws. “I mean, it is Halloween.”

The Siamese stopped. Kneeling beside the low coffee table, she placed the box down, tucking her trim legs beneath her as she did so. She wore a loose half-shirt which stopped just below her pert breasts, letting her white belly show above a pair of pink dolphin shorts. 

Heather pushed herself from the window and turned, her brows arching slightly as she laid her eyes on the curious box which her companion had placed on the coffee table. 

“What’s that, Cindy?” she asked. 

“Oh, you know,” Cindy mewed. “I thought since it’s Halloween and all, why don’t we have some real fun?” She grasped the lid, tearing away the moldy cardboard to reveal a folded length of polished wood. “Come on, let’s set it up.”

Cindy slid the board out and unfolded it across the coffee table. The scents of mothballs and dust wafted from the old cedar, crinkling Heather’s nose as she came to sit beside the other feline. Painted onto the polished surface in an approximation of old time script were letters. Every letter in the alphabet, along with the numbers zero to nine were painstakingly inscribed along the surface. At the bottom of the board was also included the simple answers of Yes and No.”

“Cindy,” gasped Heather. “Is this a--”

“Ouija board?” Cindy’s mouth curled into a wicked grin, setting the shadows to bloom beneath her eyes. “Come on, Heather. It’s Halloween. Let’s see if we can call up a few wandering spirits.”

“I don’t know,” replied Heather. Her slender tail gave a flick, lifting the back of her shirt to briefly reveal the light blue panties which hugged her wobbling cheeks. “You think it’s safe?”

“Safe?” laughed Cindy. “You’ve been watching too many movies. It’s all just pretend anyway. So turn out the light and let's try it.”

“If you say so,” Heather said. 

The orange and white cat stood up from the table and trudged to the wall. There, she flicked the switch down, bathing the room in darkness. Silver moonlight cast its ethereal glow across the carpet, bathing the living room in a ghostly radiance. A single glimmer arose in the grey twilight, a flickering candle which Cindy had lit. The orange wax glistened as it slowly melted down to the bronze holder which rested upon the coffee table. Meanwhile, Cindy had placed the planchette down on the board, both brown hands setting their fingertips on the wooden marker, her blue eyes glittering in expectation as Heather returned to the coffee table. 

“Place your hands here,” she indicated. “Hurry up, this will be fun.”

Heather’s white fingers came to fall upon the planchette, her heart hammering in her chest. “Cindy, I don’t know about this.”

“Oh, quit,” Cindy snapped. “It’s all make-believe.” 

From outside, there came a frightful wail as the trick-or-treaters scampered into the night to seek greater plunder. The shrill cries of the kids raised the hair on the back of Heather’s neck and the cat turned to Cindy.

“Cindy, I-I really think we shouldn’t.”

“Just follow me,” Cindy said. “And quit whining. Let’s see, we need to ask it a question.”

“How about, who will I marry?” Heather giggled. 

The planchette slid slightly, covering up the O and then stopped. Heather’s face fell, her emerald eyes narrowing. 

“Isn’t it supposed to keep moving?”

“How about a better question,” said Cindy. “And don’t try to move it.” The Siamese cleared her throat and then turned her gaze to the board. “Are there any spirits among us?”

Slowly, the planchette began to move, the dull scrape of wood ringing out in the gloom as both cats watched in stunned silence. 

“C-Cindy, are you doing that?” Heather asked. 

The candlelight set the shadows to wobble against Cindy’s face, her blue eyes like deepest sapphires as she watched the planchette inch lower and lower on the board. Her mouth suddenly went dry, her tongue swollen two sizes too big as she felt the hunk of wood moving. 

“N-No,” she stammered. “I thought it was you.”

“I’m not moving it,” Heather cried. “You are.”

“I’m not,” snapped Cindy. “I… Heather, look.”

The planchette had stopped, hovering over Yes. Both cats sat speechless, their hearts pounding against their ribs. The air of the living room, in spite of the unseasonably warm temperature, suddenly became chill. Cindy’s tail wrapped around her rump as she swallowed back the lump in her throat. Her fingers trembling, Heather gulped, unable to take her eyes from the planchette as it started to move once more.

“There’s someone else here,” she whispered. “W-Who is it?”

Ghostly fingers crept down her spine, making the cat shiver. Heather turned, her breath frozen in her lungs, her eyes wide, finding nothing but the shadows. 

“Cindy, I felt something,” she said. 

“It’s just your imagination,” replied Cindy. 

“And the cold?” Heather asked. 

“The, uh, the A/C came on,” Cindy stammered. “N-Nothing to worry about.”

The scratching of wood on wood brought the felines back to the board, eyes wide, watching as the planchette moved. Slowly, it paused over one letter, then moved to the next. 

“M-O-R-T-I-C-A-I, Morticai,” said Cindy. “Is that the ghost’s name?”

“Wasn’t there some spooky person who lived here?” Heather turned her emerald gaze up from the board. “A creepy bat named Morticai?”

“You’re right, he was said to be all involved in strange occult rituals.” Cindy bit her lower lip. “But that was almost a hundred years ago. He’s dead.”

“Like a ghost?” Heather said.  

Suddenly, the planchette moved, streaking from their fingers to slide across the board. The wooden marker skidded to a stop above the Yes sign. Raising a yowl, Heather leapt from the coffee table, banging her knee on the corner, setting the board to nearly topple as she tumbled to the carpet. Cindy was on her feet, her pulse pounding in her ears as she whirled on her friend. 

“Heather! Heather!” Her cries came out in strangled sobs as mist began to coalesce around them. 

Like the faint haze of cigarette smoke, it gathered in the gloom. Blue mist which formed a halo around the flickering candle, curling into tendrils of darkening smoke which then fell across the carpet, sliding like serpents towards the prone body of Heather. 

“Cindy, what’s happening?” the orange and white cat cried as she felt herself being lifted from the floor. 

Cindy stopped, her clawed fingers coming to her mouth, her eyes wide in horror as her friend hung suspended above the floor. Cloying tendrils of ghostly mist curled up from the floor, seeking the slim ankles, the trim wrists of Heather. Slowly, they wrapped around her, holding her immobile as still more of the strange smoke would come to explore her sleek thighs. 

“Cindy,” mewed Heather. 

Questing fingers danced along her inner thighs, coming to caress the blue panties, to slide along the sweet indentation of her maiden flower. Heather trembled as the icy touch of the grave met her succulent flesh, stealing up her heaving belly to emerge from her sloping neckline. The ghostly smoke curled around her delicate throat, one tentacle coming to run along her plush, wet lips. The cat whimpered, shutting her eyes to the ghostly terror which held her. 

“Cindy, help me,” she screeched. 

Cindy stood motionless, unable to tear herself from the horror before her. “I don’t… I don’t know what to do,” she cried. “Please, um, Morticai, put her down. Can’t you put her down?”

The response was a gruesome laugh which rang out from all around them, as if the walls themselves mocked their plight. 

“Please,” Cindy shouted. Tears streaked her furry cheeks. “Please, stop this.”

The smoky tendrils groped at Heather’s furry body, like unseen hands questing along her warm flesh. She felt them, so many fingers, probing, feeling, worming under her shirt, hooking into her underwear. Down, came her panties, flung to the floor, exposing the wet, pink folds of her bloom. The tendrils around her legs pulled, spreading her lap wide, revealing her blossom to the wide, horror filled eyes of Cindy. 

“C-Cindy,” Heather whimpered. Her mouth opened, showing her white teeth. 

Before she could utter another sob, a spiraling limb of blue smoke reared up like a cobra and shot down her mouth. Her jaws spread wide, cracking as her throat swelled, ballooning as the ghostly aura plunged down her gullet. Her eyes were wide, unseeing, tears streaming freely as the spirit tore her shirt asunder. The sounds of ripping fabric would stir Cindy from her stupor, the Siamese rushing to the aid of her friend. 

“Let her go,” she shrieked. “Let her go.”

But the spirit would ignore her. Smoky fingers grew from the mist, coming to trace the curve of Heather’s throat, to seek the pert apricot breasts which were adorned by the erect, pink nipples which begged to be plucked. Heather’s head fell back, smoke pouring down her throat to pool icy cold in her belly. Those ghostly fingers pinched her bright stems, twisting and plucking, bringing the cat to moan through her nose. Her maiden flower dripped its fragrant honey, pattering softly onto the carpet as the spirit came to caress those wet folds. Heather’s belly billowed, swelling as smoke filled her stomach. Icy fear gripped her heart, yet she craved the deathly touch, begged for it even. The spirit of the bat dipped its fingers down finding the sensitive nub of her clit, twisting sharply so that the cat bucked in its grasp. 

“Leave her alone,” screamed Cindy. 

She dove at the cloying mist, falling through the wispy shroud to crash against the wall. Blinking the tears from her eyes, she looked up, seeing in the dim haze the shape of the chiropteran horror. Morticai smiled, his fangs curved and pointed. No light shone in his deathly eyes, only empty, black pits of pitiless evil. The mist around him was solidifying, becoming more and more the shape of his bent and slim body. He held Heather by the hips, his manhood rising from his swirling pelvis, throbbing in horrific beauty. Cindy felt her cheeks grow warm at such a sight, though she knew the creature was long since dead, incorporeal. Slowly, the bat bucked his hips, pressing deeper. His chilly manhood slid effortlessly into Heather’s glimmering pussy, pressing deep to penetrate her core. The cat moaned, her belly swelling with fresh expansion as the ghost continued to push, not pulling back, not stopping as he crashed the gates of her empty womb. 

Cindy staggered to her feet, watching as the apparition began to shrink, melting down between Heather’s legs. The cat’s belly was rising, distending into that of pregnancy. Her flat stomach ballooned into one six months pregnant, then to full-term before Cindy’s eyes. The ghost of Mortecai had vanished, his smoky form now swirling within Heather. The orange and white cat floated above the carpet, her back arched, her swollen middle thrusting up to the ceiling. Hands, full sized, adult hands, pushed against her belly, her flesh boiling as the spirit shifted within her. 

“H-Heather,” Cindy whispered.

She began to reach for her friend, when the other cat suddenly let out an ear-splitting screech. Blue ectoplasm gushed from her mouth, spewing forth from between her shivering thighs as her belly began to recede, deflating before Cindy. The cat fell, flopping heavily onto the carpet to lie still. Cindy rushed to Heather’s side, her trembling hands going to the feline’s neck, feeling for a pulse. 

“She’s alive,” Cindy sighed. “Oh, thank God.”

“Thank no one,” came a deep, masculine voice. 

Cindy shot back from the body of Heather, the cat now sitting up. Her eyes were wild, the pupils mere pinpricks of black. Her lips curled into a jagged, toothy grin as she turned on Cindy. Tears of crimson blood ran down her cheeks, pouring from her nostrils as she staggered to her feet. 

“After so many years,” the masculine voice echoed from Heather’s lips. “And now, on this night of all nights, I am free.” 

The ghost, Morticai, brought Heather’s clawed fingers, now his fingers, to the glistening folds of the cat’s vagina.

“It itches so,” he said, looking at Cindy. “Would you care to help me?”

His claws dug into the soft, pink flesh, tearing at the delicate folds. Pungent nectar rolled down his fingers, dripping from his fur as he clawed at himself. 

“Ah, yes, just under the skin. I feel it.” Blood began to ooze between Heather’s fingers, running down her inner thigh. 

“Stop it,” shrieked Cindy. “You’re hurting her.”

“Hurting?” asked Morticai. He plucked the red fingers from the cat’s maiden flower and turned an impassive stare upon her glistening claws. “Oh, I see.” He waggled the dripping claws, strings of mucus and blood flicking as he waved Heather’s hand. “Ah, must have been her time of the month, yes? A heavy flow, you see.”

The ghost let out a laugh which turned Cindy’s guts to water. 

“I must,” said Morticai, tearing at Heather’s flesh. “It’s just… Ah, there it is.”

Cindy gave a gasp as from the bloody folds, there slid a long, thick tube of throbbing flesh. Slick with crimson, a cock rose up, thrusting itself from the snowy white pubic fur as a pair of ripe balls would descend between the feline’s thighs. 

“Do you like it?” said the ghost through Heather's lips. “It was a gift, you know.” He extended a hand towards Cindy. “Come now, little kitten. I’ve been wanting this for nearly a century.” The pulsing member throbbed, vines like purple ivy slithering up engorged flesh. A glistening gem of bitter precum glimmering at the tip like an opal. “You would not deny me this, would you? It is Hallow’s Eve, the time when spirits return to earth.” He made a step towards Cindy. “Come then, give in to me.”

Cindy shrank from the disfigured form of her friend. Though her vision was blinded by the hot tears which stung her eyes, the cat managed to cry out, “No, I will not.”

“Come here,” roared the ghost and shot for the young feline. 
Cindy ran, narrowly escaping the groping claws, still wet with Heather’s blood. She seized the coffee table, toppling it over, sending the Ouija board flying as she leapt the overturned table and dashed for the kitchen. Behind her came a muffled curse as the possessed body of Heather crashed over the coffee table. 

“Agh, you will not get away,” shouted Morticai.

Green light spilled from the face of the digital clock set into the microwave, making the tile shimmer with a liquid emerald as Cindy’s bare feet padded across the cold floor. Her trembling hands shot for the counter, the furious stomping of the possessed cat right behind her. Her fingers curled around the handle, ripping open the drawer, revealing the gleam of cold steel. Cindy’s hand shot for the black handle of a large kitchen knife, the steel glinting wickedly in the moonlight. The Siamese whirled, her back to the counter, her chest heaving as she held the weapon to her breast with both hands. Could she really thrust that blade into the heart of her dearest friend? For all the horror which the spirit had inflicted, the body was still that of Heather. Tears streamed down her cheeks as the orange and white form materialized in the doorway. Green eyes glowed in the dim twilight, their slit pupils deepest black. Blood stained the creamy fur, leaking from both eyes, both nostrils as the cat’s feral grin lit up the shadows. 

“Cindy,” said Morticai. “Girl, that is not needed. Come now, put down the knife.”

The possessed cat leaned a palm against the frame of the door, one foot stepping lightly down onto the moon kissed tile. 

“Stay away,” shrieked Cindy. “Don’t come any closer.”

Morticai, wearing the form of Heather, would ignore the pleas of the whimpering Cindy. Closer, the staggering body came, moving with a stiff-legged, shifting gate, the padded feet scuffing the tile as the cat came within arm’s reach. 

“Cindy,” Morticai groaned. 

Cindy’s lip trembled, tears streaking her fur. The knife quivered in her hands, the blade pointed at the breast of Heather. She had but to plunge that tip deep and her nightmare would end. 

“Oh, Cindy,” said the ghost. “You wouldn’t, would you?” 

The white breast came to nestle itself against the knife, the blade glinting between those soft, pert mounds. 

“Cindy,” whispered Morticai. “Come now, put it down. You won’t kill me. You can’t, for I know that you care too much for Heather.”

Cindy’s lips pulled back, revealing her teeth as she sobbed. She could not bring herself to stab her friend. The spirit possessed body of Heather lunged with a sudden ferocity, grasping her wrist, another hand going for her throat. Cindy let out a strangled cry as she was borne to the floor, the possessed creature poised above her. Morticai stretched her arm, holding the hand which still held the blade far away from their bodies. His other hand, that of Heather’s, closed around Cindy’s delicate throat as the ghost lowered the white muzzle to hover just above Cindy’s lips. 

“I see her memories,” said Morticai. “She loved you, Cindy. Did you know? I think that part of you did.”

Pink lips glistened wetly, succulent pillows which grazed the black flesh of Cindy’s mouth. The Siamese groaned, longing for that caress, yet horrified by the mad creature who inhabited Heather’s flesh. 

“Give in,” Morticai whispered. “You cannot resist. Why fight that which you desire?”

He opened Heather’s mouth, the pink tongue slipping free to slide along the furry, wet cheek, lapping the tears from Cindy’s face. The questing lips came closer, meeting that hungering mouth in a kiss which stole the very breath of Cindy’s lungs. Her sapphire eyes closed, a low moan escaping from her flaring nostrils as the cat parted her jaws, allowing the hot, wicked  tongue to plunge into her mouth. Morticai explored the white teeth, the smooth, red gums which lay stretched like a bed of silk to guide him to the depths of Cindy’s throat. He curled Heather’s tongue back, caressing the ridged palate of the squirming cat. Heather’s tongue twined around Cindy’s, the pair twirling endlessly like two enraged serpents. The blood pumped wildly in the rust stained cock which had erupted from Heather’s abused flesh, precum spurting from the gaping tip as Morticai pulled back. 

“Mmm,” Cindy moaned, suckling the pink tongue as the orange and white cat lifted its head, allowing Cindy to fall back upon the cold tile.

Her fingers began to open, allowing the knife to clatter from her hand as the spirit descended down the curve of her throat, seeking to plunge Heather’s muzzle between those perfect breasts. Cindy’s belly rose and fell like a bellows, her maiden flower slick with the fragrant honey of her mounting desires. She hated herself, hated the beast who inhabited Heather, but her primal lusts, her carnal appetites would not relent. With a mewl, she began to open her legs, her back arching as the ghost came to her low neckline. Morticai brought Heather’s fingers to the hem of Cindy’s top, the pink lips suckling at the damp fur of the cat’s chest. Clever claws slid beneath the filmy cotton, finding the erect nipple. Cindy moaned, her strength ebbing as her shirt was lifted, slipping up to her chin to reveal her ripe breasts. Twin mounds of creamy softness, each adorned with a darkly glistening cherry. Morticai ran Heather’s tongue across her pink lips, tasting the iron tang of blood and the sweetness of Cindy’s flesh as he came to wrap those very lips around her firm bud. The rough tongue slithered along her bumpy areola, flicking that rigid nub until Cindy was purring, her body all but surrendering to the vile spirit. 

“I’ve waited so many years for this,” Morticai moaned. 

Heather’s hand dipped down Cindy’s quivering belly, fingers running through the soft fur until they found the waistband of the cat’s pink shorts. Heather’s claws, guided by Morticai, plucked at the elastic, snapping Cindy’s shorts as he hooked the garment. Tugging the pink cotton down to her knees, he would bring Heather’s hand to then seize the trim, white panties, pulling them down to join the cat’s shorts. With a final yank, both garments were flung across the floor, leaving Cindy’s glimmering blossom free before the lecherous gaze of the ghost. Hunger blazed in those emerald orbs as Morticai laid his eyes on the wetly shimmering pussy. Petals of dark, succulent flesh glistened with the pungent dew, their delicate lips parting, opening to the touch of Heather’s claws. 

“You know this touch?” he asked, drawing one finger along the wet labia. Cindy shuddered, sobbing. “Yes, you do. These fingers are not unfamiliar to you.”

Heather’s hand still around Cindy’s throat, Morticai then brought the orange and white fingers of the cat’s other hand to the opening of Cindy’s bloom. Carefully, the ghost would guide Heather’s fingers, inserting those digits deep into the moaning feline with a wet squelch. Cindy gave a cry, sucking those fingers deep into that wet, alien world, bringing Morticai to her very core. Within the flesh of Heather, the bat smiled darkly, finding his delight in the scent of Cindy’s musky aroma, the odors of sweat and the natural scent of her wiry pubic fur. He twisted, drawing those fingers back, letting them caress the shuddering walls of Cindy’s vagina. The Siamese cried out, a song on her lips as she shrieked her elation. Despite the horror, her body would come alive at the touch of the white fingers of Heather, controlled like a puppet by the spirit of the bat. 

“Ah, wonderful,” Morticai moaned. “I can’t stand it any longer.”

That bloody tip came to nudge against Cindy’s lips, pressing apart her shivering labia. Cindy grasped the wrist of Heather, seeking to pull the clawed hand from her throat. 

“No,” hissed the ghost. “You will not deny me this. You want it, Cindy. I can feel it.” 

“I-I don’t,” the cat spat. The muddy haze which fogged her brain had given way to hot rage. She would not allow this spirit to taint her dearest friend, the feline she loved, any longer. Her hand shot for the knife, grasping the blade. “I’m not letting you.”

Morticai was perched above her. Using a knee, he pushed open Cindy’s legs, his bloody member sliding along her wet folds, seeking a way in as the gleam of steel arced through the gloom. Heather’s hand closed around Cindy’s wrist just before the blade plunged into the white fur. 

“A valiant effort,” said the ghost. “Though a wasted one.”

He bucked Heather’s hips, that quivering rod spearing deep to crash the gates of Cindy’s womb with a single, shuddering thrust. Cindy gasped, her belly clenching as if a lead weight had dropped on it. The knife fell from her numbed fingers, clattering on the floor as Morticai forced her hand to the tile. Cindy let out a scream as that throbbing pillar slid back, her body closing around that horrific member, stroking the weeping rod so that Morticai did shiver in gleeful jubilation. 

“A-Ah, yes,” the ghost groaned. “Ngh, you are so tight, so fresh.” 

He pushed once more, plunging deep, rubbing that sobbing tip against the quivering flesh of Cindy’s cervix. Hot precum spurted, flooding her empty womb, making her belly lurch. 

“Do you know what I vowed, down in the depths of Hell itself?” The emerald eyes turned to Cindy. “That when I returned, I would father such a horrific brood.” The ghost leaned Heather’s body down, erect nipples parting Cindy’s fur as he arched the cat’s back. “Cindy,” he whispered, Those pink lips gliding along the Siamese’s black mouth. “You shall be the first of many. You shall bear my hellish seed.”

Their lips closed together, stifling the sobs which bubbled from Cindy’s throat. She found herself unwilling to shove away the body of Heather, her arms instead wrapping around the slim neck, drawing the possessed feline to her. Her strength was gone, given to the lust which burned so hotly in her belly, for she longed for the caress of Heather’s touch, though not like this. It should never have been like this. Morticai pumped, thrusting deep, pulling back to circle Heather’s hips, plummeting once more. Never did the ghost stop, that horrid manhood throbbing, rubbing deliciously within Cindy as the orange and white hand of Heather came to rest upon her hip. Fingers sank into the yielding flesh of round buttocks, bringing Cindy’s leg up to hook around the slender waist of the other cat. The echoes of raw meat slapped upon the floor, forming a chorus the pained cries of whorish elation which were torn from the gaping mouth of Cindy as the cat ripped her lips free to sing her wild hymn of black ecstasy. 

“O-Oh… Oh… A-Ah…” 

Her groans were a song that made the ears of Heather twitch, stirring the fattening balls which hung dripping between the stained thighs of the possessed feline. 

“Ugh, Cindy,” moaned Morticai. “Cindy, you drive me so wild. You are truly more of a demon than I.”

The possessed body bucked its hips, not pulling back, but pushing deeper, pressing to the shattering gates of Cindy’s womb. Hot precum jetted forth, a preamble to the virile seed which was soon to flow. The body of Heather trembled, every muscle standing like steel cables beneath furry flesh as the ghost let out a wail which would bring the very dead to rise screaming from their graves. Hot, bubbling semen flowed forth, flooding the hungry womb of Cindy. Morticai gave a sudden shiver, pumping another ropy strand to fill the cat’s expanding belly. Cindy’s stomach rose, bloating with fresh expansion so that the feline’s belly was already appearing to be well into the first trimester of pregnancy. Her stomach gurgled, heat flowing up from her ballooning middle as the possessed body of Heather at last pulled free, its softening manhood dangling limp, a single, sticky strand of semen clinging between them, a gossamer strand of spider silk which shimmered in the dim light of the kitchen. 

The possessed cat fell back, watching as Cindy’s hands came to her swollen belly. Her stomach roared, pain surging through her as her body was rocked by a spasm of agony. Her flesh stretched, swelling to six months, then to full-term. Her belly rose before her eyes, expanding to that of twins. Her breasts swelled painfully, aching as milk sloshed within those bloated mounds. Unable to contain their flow, gleaming white would begin to stream from her erect nipples, running in thin ribbons down her fur. Clawed feet would lash out in fury within her, pummeling her kidneys as black fluid gushed from her battered flower to spread between her quivering thighs. Her jaw fell as she let out a scream of utter terror. For within her, something quaked, seeking with snuffling grunts to find the opening which led it out into the world. 

“My children,” sang Morticai. “Come to me.”

Cindy’s back arched painfully, every nerve electrified with the agonizing splendor of birth. Her heels kicked out, banging on the tile as her fingers clawed at the cool floor. The chill seeped into her sweaty back, matting her damp fur as the cat let out a shriek of torment. Her belly shifted, her unborn horrors moving down, pushing against her creaking pelvis. Morticai placed a hand on her belly, fingers stroking her sweaty fur. 

“If it helps,” he chuckled, “you can pretend they belong to Heather. I know it’s what you want.” The chiropteran spirit brought Heather’s lips to press to that bubbling globe, her tongue lolling, sliding along the curve of Cindy’s pregnant belly. 

“Go to Hell,” Cindy hissed through her clenched fangs. 

The rough tongue came free of her belly with a flick. “Oh, I’ve been there. I don’t much fancy going back.”

Questing fingers came to the bloated breast, swollen and painful with the fresh milk which streamed from the erect nipple. Gently, Morticai flicked at the nub of firm flesh, raising a response from Cindy. The cat whimpered, shuddering as the first pangs of birth rocked her tortured body. Claws found the gaping portal of her womanhood, the first shrieking head emerging in a torrent of gushing, inky fluid as a misshapen body squirmed between her legs. Cindy moaned in horror as the creature stood on wobbly legs. Red eyes turned on its mother, teeth glittering like daggers from a lipless face that reminded the feline of a grinning skull. The imp stood no taller than her knee, with flimsy wings like that of a bat. Its body was all bones and sinew, cracking as the joints moved. The creature hobbled over her thigh, climbing her belly to find her leaking tit. 

“Ah, it loves you,” the ghost laughed. 

The creature sniffed at her breast, then, the awful fangs bit down, pain spreading up Cindy’s spine as the monster began to suckle. From her battered womb would emerge its twin, struggling free to join its brother in feasting upon the fresh stream of Cindy’s essence. 

“Magnificent,” The wicked spirit sighed. “Such a lovely scene. It makes me so pleased.”

The body of Heather knelt, taking up Cindy in its arms. The warm, wet breath billowed on the back of her neck, the muffled grunts of her hellish offspring as they continued to drink, snuffled in her ears. The cat wept, her mind blasted by the horror which she now faced. 

“If only I had left that damn board alone,” she sobbed. 

“But you didn’t,” Morticai whispered. 

He blew a slow, hot breath into her ear, pink tongue slithering deep to lick at the cat’s fevered brain. One hand came to her throat, tilting back her chin so that with a moan, Cindy gave her ripe mouth to her tormentor. Her offspring fluttered their leathery wings, hopping back with a chittering protest as Morticai took up the cat, her body yielding, surrendering to the ghost. 

“Ah, so you now understand,” the bat said. “You called out to me in the ether. On this night in which all spirits walk and so I am here.” He brought Heather’s hand down to the flabby, deflated sack that was Cindy’s belly. “Mmm, I shall fill you again and again. Do you wish that?”

Cindy’s breath slipped from her wet lips as she gasped for air. “I-I do,” she said. “I want you so much.”

Unknown to the ghost, her hand was moving, fingers creeping towards the knife which lay on the floor. 

“Tell me that you want it,” Morticai demanded. “Tell me now.”

“I want it,” Cindy growled. Her fingers curled around the handle. “But, I want you to have it more.”

Silver flashed in the gloom and there came a bright splash of crimson as the ghost let out a surprised screech. Cindy dove from the arms of Heather, slipping in the black muck which spread over the floor, her limbs splaying in all directions. The knife was still clutched in her hand as she scrabbled for the doorway, only to have the soft body of her friend crash down upon her. The impish horrors she had birthed squealed from where they watched as the possessed body of Heather grappled with the Siamese. 

“That was a foolish idea,” Morticai snarled. Blood stained the fur of Heather’s left bicep. A shallow cut, but one that the cat would remember once she became herself. “But, I do enjoy that you are on your belly. I so love to take them from behind.”

That horrid member throbbed with carnal desire thrusting between Cindy’s thighs to slide effortlessly into her wet, quivering flower. The cat moaned, unable to hold back the hot flush of desire which churned in her belly. 

“That’s it,” crooned the ghost. “Give in to your whorish wants, girl.” A white hand groped for the knife clasped in Cindy’s fist. “Give in.”

Morticai bucked, spearing Cindy’s trembling core. Pulling back, he circled Heather’s hips, lifting CIny up, only to bring back down to the floor. Black ooze splattered beneath them as the ghost pressed deeper, bitter precum spurting from that awful tip. 

“You will do it again,” he hissed. “You shall birth more of them. For all time if I so choose.”

“I won’t,” Cindy wept. “You can’t make me.”

“I can,” said the ghost, “and I shall.”

Cindy’s arm jerked, but overpowered by the spirit of the bat, she could not lift her hand to bring the knife to bear. Her world swam before her eyes, flashes of crimson erupting in her vision as the ghost stirred her into hot elation. 

“U-Uh…” she moaned, unable to hold back. Her hand fell limp on the cool tile, her strength fleeing before the devilish onslaught of her otherworldly lover. “Ungh… Mmmm…”

“Yes, tonight is mine,” cackled the ghost. “Tonight, I return to this world and I shall at last claim it for--”

The sound of the clock struck the hour. Cindy’s ears pricked up, the cat’s eyes growing wide. 

Morticai pulled free from Cindy, Heather’s face contorted in outrage as the body began to tremble. 

“No,” cried the ghost. “No, it cannot be.”

“It is,” said Cindy. Rolling onto her side, the Siamese shot an acid glare at the possessed feline. “It’s midnight. Halloween is over. You said it yourself, you came back on the night in which all spirits return to earth. But that night is over and you have to go back.”

“No,” screamed Morticai. “No, I won’t. I won’t go back.” 

Heather’s spine bent, bones creaking as the cat’s body began to quake. Limbs spasmed on the floor, writhing in the black ooze which began to evaporate into ectoplasm, turning to mist and then to nothing. The imps screeched, flailing in agony as flesh melted from white bone. One creature banged its head into the counter, as if to drive back its own doom. The other began a loping, hopping run which saw it flopping to the floor as its hellspawned body dissolved before Cindy’s eyes. 

“No,” came a final cry as Heather’s mouth opened wide, jaws cracking as mist roiled up from her throat. 

Sickly light flickered in that swirling vapor and Cindy caught the brief glimpse of the bat as he screamed in silent torment. The clock struck again and the spirit was extinguished, snuffed from the earth to be driven back into Hell from whence he came. Cindy sighed, letting her head droop to her sagging breast. Milk still trickled from both teets, her belly stretched and floppy. Her fur was stained black by her own fluids and despite the pain in her body, she managed to stumble to her feet and stagger into the living room. There, she took up the board and planchette, making her way to the front door. There, she hurled both into the yard and slammed the door closed. 

“No more of that,” she grumbled. 

Slowly, she limped back into the kitchen, finding Heather beginning to stir. The orange and white cat slowly opened her eyes and seeing Cindy, gave a small gasp. 

“Cindy, what happened?” She winced and looked at her arm. “How did I get cut and why are we both naked in the kitchen?”

Cindy fell to her knees, sliding between Heather’s slim legs. Her fingers played on the cat’s fur, her hands rising up the slope of Heather’s chest to cup her orange and white cheeks. Without hesitating, Cindy pressed her mouth to those pink lips, Heather offering a brief moan before pulling her head back. 

“Cindy,” she giggled. “What’s gotten into you?”

“No,” said Cindy in a low, syrupy voice. “You should be asking what is going to be in you?”

Heather’s eyes fell down to Cindy’s pubic area, seeing a throbbing rod of dark flesh rising with masculine beauty. 

“What is that?” she cried. 

“It was a gift,” Cindy moaned. “Now, let me show you.”

A glistening jewel of bitter precum glittered from the weeping tip as Cindy pressed herself to Heather. Both cats were borne to the floor, Heather’s legs spread beneath Cindy. 

“Cindy, this isn’t funny,” Heather said. “Cindy, are you listening to me? Cindy?” The spongy flesh of that glimmering tip met her slick labia, pressing between her quivering lips. “Cindy, stop! Cindy, I… I… O-Oh…