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Halloween Delight Ch. 01

By: The_Blackguard



Chapter 01: Tricking

We we're lying in bed when it started, Enjoying those fleeting delicious minutes afterwards when the universe itself is at harmony, and the concerns of an hour ago seem as distant as from the now, as the night sky seemed from the bed. It would vanish all too soon as we both knew, but for the moment, that was the concern of tomorrow, and we both sought nothing more than the ebbing passion, good company, and warm embrace we shared. In short, it was past time for me to say something stupid and screw it up.

Such is the lot in life of men. Really, we all have a sixth sense for when things are going too well.. but that's a topic for another time. Needless to say time, mine in particular, was almost up. It was with utter innocence I remarked at my, shaggy, god-awful civilian hair, was getting to be so long and fluffy that I was coming to resemble her small dog. Aptly, or so I think anyway, Named Peanut, the dog is one of those breeds that remind you of inflatable furniture, without all the fluff there is remarkably little substance to the thing. 

At any rate, my hair had grown out to nearly two inches, and true to its uncooperative nature, it believed it belonged on a hero from Dragon Ball Z and stood straight up without the coaxing of gel, or any other prodding. She thought it was cute. I thought it was time to get a fresh razor blade, and shave it off again. None the less, she teased me, asking if she needed to buy me a chicken suit too.

Don't ask me why, the dog was dressed as a chicken for Halloween. Perhaps, I thought, it had something to do with the dogs size. Never one for a snappy come back, I rattled off that if she did, I was going to get her a cow costume. See, I knew my time was waning, She rolled away from me, and I rolled my eyes as I was faced with her back. For a brief moment the notion ran through my head that if she was going to roll and lay like that presenting such a target.... Then my head stepped in, and reminded me, tempting as the idea was, these were not the circumstances for such a bold move on my part. Something more subtle was required.

I leaned up up onto my elbow, and my other arm reached over her. MY chest twisted, and snaking arm made it around her ribs, hand sliding between her and the mattress. "It's not a matter of resemblance," I began, while retracting my muscles, and dragging her across the fabric. "So much as a matter of capabilities," Her back was pressed up against my chest now, I confess, I loved the way I could strong arm her around. Speaking of arms, mine had slipped up over her ribs and was firmly, forcefully even, massaging her breast. Pressing hard against it, and well on my way to pressing hard against her again, I knew how.. ungentle she liked my affections to be at times.

Now being such a time was anyone's guess, but I was already committed. My other arm snaked up, putting my bicep between her neck and the pillow as my hand came down to rest on her other breast. She hadn't complained about the force of my touch, and was wiggling a bit in anticipation, so I began to grow more bold, and more forceful. Had there been an observer there, they might have thought I was trying to use my hands to push her breasts into her rib cage, despite the physical impossibility of such. Suffice to say, gentle was not on my agenda.

I kept at this for several minutes, whispering softly into her ear, "I'll stop, when you give in." But that was hardly enough to tickle her neck with my warm moist breast, so I went on a bit more, "If your good, maybe.. Maybe... then I'll give you what you want." It was pure bluff, but I began to nibble on her neck, trying to distract myself from my own wants as I focused overmuch on how much pressure to use, when to bite gently, and things of that nature.

Either it worked, or she knew how desperate I was, It was impossible to tell which. She moaned out that She'd wear whatever I wanted this season, and I grinned while thinking to myself, "Gotcha!" My upper arm slipped lower and pushed her legs apart. My fingers found her, and rubbed. She was a bit wetter than I expected, but far be it for me to complain. My fingers reached a bit further, and found me. I held my shaft against her, keeping my head in my fingers to prevent her from doing what we both wanted. I hadn't quite won yet.

"Anything?" It came out as half purr, half growl, and all enticing. "Anything," She at this point was half whimper, half plea, and all instigating, "Please?" I grinned at that, pulled my hips back, and pushed my head up, closer to her. I gave her a soft growl of warning, She liked it when I growled, and I liked that she gave me both cause and opportunity to. My hips rocked forward, and my hand came to rest against the outside of her slit. I held her there, I hadn't quite won yet.

"Collar, Belt, Heels." She knew I wouldn't make her wear that, or rather just that. Hell, I knew I wouldn't, but she had to give in, completely or it was still a Tie. "Anything." She still didn't give in, I shifted my hips a bit in a small circle letting her feel the slightest sliding motion before I prompted her "Anything....mmm?" She got the hint, and agreed readily enough when faced with the torment of waiting. "Anything Master." I grinned, and relaxed, only to begin sliding in and out.

I've neglected to mention what my other hand was doing for some while now. The notion of a cow costume was neither random, nor said to upset it, as my hand was now proving. It had much more to do with those full, soft breasts, those hard, turgid little nipples, and most of all to do with the white fluid that was slowly leaking out of them. The cow costume was a fitting idea, because my fucktoy, was lactating.

This was nothing surprising, and nothing new. Shortly after I claimed her for the first time, she was set onto that course, she enjoyed the feeling of feeding me, as well as the far more.. intimate knowledge that I had forsworn milk other than her own. I enjoyed feeding, as well as the potential for punishment, and the most noticeable effect of her cup size being... pardon the pun.. rather fluid at times.

But I let my mind wander. Fucktoy was wet, and not just between her legs, and she knew how that effected me. I couldn't have stopped myself from leaning over her to kiss her breast and lap at her nipple if my life depended on it. Between her legs my hand had been, now it was sliding up along her stomach, slipping between her breasts, and coming up to slip fingers into her mouth.

Her eagerness, and enjoyment was... palatable, equally as much so, as she seemed to find my fingers. Perhaps it was the taste of the trickle from me, and torrent for her she was after, but I firmly maintain she wanted to suck on my fingers more than she wanted the taste. Her tongue was eager and swift, swirling around my fingers even as she inhaled through her mouth, slurping up any juice she could get.

I've neglected to mention what my other hand was doing again, much as I lost track of my mouth. The latter is obvious, as full as she was, I would be suckling for the next half hour at the least, and woe to any power on heaven or earth that tried to change that. MY hand however was another matter entirely. You see, Fucktoy was playing with me.

She still hadn't said what I told her I expected her to. One might think she gave in by admitting she'd wear anything her master told her to. The truth was a different matter, She enjoyed finding the line of seeming to give in, while still refusing to comply with what she was told. It was no accident she didn't repeat back to me that she'd wear a Collar belt and heels. It was as deliberate as it was insubordinate.

This was not to be tolerated. The hand that wasn't in her mouth you see, had slipped out from under her neck, and slipped around atop it. My weight was on that elbow, and my hand itself was resting on her collarbone, lightly tracing around. Fucktoy, at this point was lying on her back from shoulder to mid back. Her right leg was pulled up over her left, and her hips were swiveled to the side, accommodating me.

While she sucked the juices off my right hand, the left was playing around near her neck, teasing her for the time being. I was more-a-less leaning over her as my hips rocked, sliding in and out with a steady, if slower-than she wanted, rhythm. My mouth pulled greedily at her nipple, and while I think her eyes were closed, or perhaps only open a slit, the truth is, I don't have the foggiest idea. My attention was elsewhere.

Then again so was her's. It was a protesting moan that issued when my lips parted way's with her nipple, and a much more pleased moan when she felt my tongue flicking across her other nipple. My left hand by now was against the back of her neck and working the muscles industriously. There is something to be said for being physically larger and stronger than your mate, if nothing else the ability to turn their muscles into so much putty is to be enjoyed. Enjoying it, I was. If you take a moment to hold your hand out as if you were going to push a door with it, you'll be able to tell what I was doing if you touch your finger tips to the base of your palm, right near the wrist.

My hand was making that motion, again and again, and kneading the back of her neck as it did. Putty, just might have been more solid than her neck was at that moment. When my right hand came up to clasp around the front of her throat, she made a soft, puzzled noise, and a few moments later opened her eyes. Eyes, a fine place to start, mine were dark, with an affected rage, or at least anger in them as I held her, both hands around her neck. My face likewise had been put into an order fitting a man who was thinking of throttling the life out of his lover.

This was not lost on her. I watched her eyes widen, and to ensure I was selling the act, I began to rock my hips more like a man possessed, than the possessive man we both knew I was. My voice was as much a snarl as it was a growl, when through clenched teeth, I emitted again, "Collar, Belt, Heels!" I wasn't sure I pulled it off at first, she hesitated, and to compensate, I introduced a slight tremor in my hands.

That was the selling move it seemed, I felt her shiver underneath me, as she hurriedly agreed, "Collar, Belt, Heels, Master." The trembling in my hands ceased, the so called spark-of-joviality came back to my eyes, silly that, its everything to do with the face around the eyes, but no matter. She gave in.

My grin would have looked out of place on a shark, but only because sharks don't feel triumph like humans do. I had my victory, even thought it required a bit of underhanded play. The truth was, I knew she liked the game just as much as I did. She goaded me into it enough that I had no doubt in that regard.

Now it was her face showing rage, and her hands coming up to throttle me. The grin on my face was more than cause enough for that I suppose. It had lost its predatory edge as her fury became revealed. Things turned into a wrestling match briefly as the fear and excitement were exorcised in the form of her trying her best to turn me black and blue, and me holding her down, and going on as if all her struggles didn't matter the least bit.

It took a while, but the process wasn't terrible. I confess I think that was in part to the piercing stare I gave her, speaking, telling her in all honestly how much I loved her. The romantic in me would say that was the deciding factor. The cynic in me would theorize that it had more to do with her inability to stop me, to stop herself from enjoying it, and the fact that Right after that I went straight to work on her long neglected, left nipple.

I don't recall how long it took before she stopped struggling, but I continued to hold her down for a while after that. I released her sometime after she arched her back, shuddering with her own release. When her spine went limp again, I rocked up and onto my knee's, and repositioned her right leg out to her right side. More comfortable, I suspected.

I leaned back in, sliding inside of her again, eliciting a soft moan at my entry. Closer and closer I got atop her, stopping with my cheek pressed against her's, my weight on my elbows, and my fingers slipping into her hair, finding her scalp and massaging. The grin on my face was perhaps not dark.. but it had a dark cast to it, good that she couldn't see it in that position, my voice however betrayed me. "And now, its my turn." I freed my right hand from her hair, and took her wrists. First one was moved up to her breasts, and then the other was.

"Play with them." My voice was soft, the tone was.. well it was a plea, simple as that. I propped myself higher up and watched as she slowly began to. My fingers found her scalp again, and we spent an eternity of minutes together, working slowly, and relentlessly to my release. I spent the entire time watching her, and while I'd hate to admit it to her... I watched her face, her expressions at least as much as I did her busy little hands. 

Halloween Delight Ch. 02



It was Friday night, the night before Halloween. Mischief Night. An apt name for what We had in mind. Needless to say, I couldn't find a cow costume I was fond of, so I decided the thing to do was to improvise. There are simply glorious things you can get on the internet, I took full advantage of that, and ordered a package. I'll come back to that later, but suffice to say, the same night I made her surrender to whatever I wanted her to wear.. I'd placed my order.

It took a few day's to arrive, this of course was an exquisite torture. For both of us really.. she was dying to know when we'd go costume shopping, and I was struggling every time to keep from telling her, we wouldn't. But back to the hear and now.. It was the day.. well, the night before Halloween really, and we had a party to attend. Some neighbors down the block. I think I might have met them once or twice. If I asked Fucktoy first, I might even be able to tell you their names, Suffice to say, I barely knew them. She on the other hand, was a much more sociable creature than I, and spent fifteen minutes that morning helping train me in who our neighbors were, who had kids, what their names were(kids and adults both), as well as facts I knew I'd never remember and thought irrelevant(Who was in what grade, what age, things of that nature). None the less I strove to learn them, and retain them as such no heroic feat, and likely to make her happy.

Regardless, It was closing on six, we'd just finished dinner, complete with pumpkin pie(I think she sprinkled some cinnamon in it too), Hot chocolate. And nourishment for every appetite except the one that was on my mind. It was her fault really, I only mentioned the chocolate was a bit too hot, and next thing I knew she was adding milk. Had she not snatched the mug up to do such, I strongly suspect I would have been adding drool. She knew exactly what she was doing to me, the little slut. After topping it off with milk, she lifted it a touch higher, just enough to dip her nipple into it, which made her bite her lower lip a moment before purring out "Mmm, just right."

Such an unbridled slut. God I loved it. That much is plain already, but I really must say that I find her show-woman-ship of her sexuality to be among the traits I find most unique to her. This may have come about because of my training, and shaping her, but rather like a snowball down hill, there comes a point where you reach that critical point of no return, and the truth is, she found that point on her own. Her independence, while still remaining firmly and fully mine, was another of those things about her that simply could not be replaced. I can't even explain how she pulled it off, but I can state firmly that I damned well liked it, and beamed every time it came to mind.

Back to the matter at hand, Costumes. I decided to play with her.. We went out costume shopping. True to form, I found myself saddled with a chicken suit. It was in a word: Horrid. That I suspect was her goal, but I had to give her something for playing my game, and after all, I had already made other arrangements anyway. As we visited place after place in the search for a detestable chicken suit of epic proportions, I could see her getting more and more nervous as I failed to even suggest anything for her.

Well, that's not entirely true, I pointed out a great many things as we went through, and I confess, kept a list in my head. However, what set her off balance was the fact that everything I picked up... well I'd stand behind her, hold a piece up in front of her, and we'd both eye her in the mirror. Every time this happened, I whispered that I'd be back, November first, to to pick this out so I could tuck it away for quiet winter nights. After all, there is something to be said for hibernating through the winter, or at least remaining in the cave, keeping occupied with heat producing endeavors. But I digress again...

The chicken suit, was as I have said, simply atrocious. But this did not keep me from making the best of the situation. Getting into the car for(what only I knew) was the last time, I leaned over towards Fucktoy, and told her how much fun I had imagining ripping costumes off her as we were shopping. I had to have her, I told her as much while my hand found its way up to her neck. I won't describe what occurred in over much detail, I will simply say that while I was large, with her mouth where it was(and me driving) I was far from in charge. 

Her mouth was wet and wonderful in the way only a dedicated, enthused partner can be. Her form could best be described in one word: sloppy. She knew I was going to change later, and since I'd already gotten a chicken suit(ugh) she was playing one of her devious cards, trying to ensure I wouldn't go into the next shop to help her(Or rather tell her) what costume she wanted. Well, if your going to fail its best to fail spectacularly. Thankfully it was only her plan that failed, that left the spectacular part, and I'd use that word to describe the way she bobbed her head up and down, making a mess all over my pants, except the word spectacular fails to do it justice. 

She was skilled, use to my length and girth, eager to deep throat, and just beginning to master the art of gagging on cue. Not that I was cuing her, but she knew the blatantly ego flattery, to say nothing of the feeling of her gagging on me, was liable to gain her the desired result in short order. While sloppy might have described how we got to that point, once I began to surge into her throat, it seemed as if a switch was flipped. At the slightest taste of my fluid, she went from drooling in anticipation, to trying to inhale my shaft.

I'm fairly certain she would have licked up every little bit of moisture on me were she able(Hard to do with a wet tongue, you just leave a larger moist section). As it was, I was glad we were on a back road, I spend most of a red light, an entire green light, and most of the next red light either trying to make a mess, or enjoying the act of her enthusiastically slurping up all traces of what happened. Needless to say, it was nice that we were the only traffic on the road. Thank god for the red light too. I can't imagine trying to drive while.. well, never mind.

At any rate, we we're close to home, and Fucktoy was just registering that, god she looked even sexier with smeared lipstick. Though the nervousness, and surprise might have pulled at me heartstrings too. I glanced over at her, and she began opening her mouth, no doubt to say something silly(such was a habit of her's when I had a plan and didn't share). I simply put a finger up to my lips for a long moment, and then reached over to pat her on the thigh after she closed her mouth. 

"Good girl." She'd earned it, Trust in me was always to be praised, all the more so when it went against her instinct. "I have a surprise for you," I offered after a moment, pausing a heartbeat before I remembered to add, "You'll see it very shortly. And no, I won't spoil it."

We pulled in a few minutes later, and I instructed her to take the chicken suit upstairs before joining me in the shower(She didn't much care for cold water, and frankly, I needed a few moments to gloat to myself). As Hannibal always told the rest of the A-team, I love it when a plan comes together. Fucktoy was naked when she came down, I pursed my lips, but decided not to say anything. The fact of the matter is, men go out to clubs and pay money to watch women create an elaborate dance out of removing their clothes. Any man will tell you a revealed woman is attractive, in part because of the vulnerability of being unclad. A particularly honest man will admit that the removal of the clothes(as well as the self confidence that allows one to do so for an audience) is also arousing to some degree or another.

I found watching the acts of dressing and stripping quite attention grabbing, But I know why she cheated me of this pleasure, we only had an hour to get ready, and I'd guess her costume would take 30 minutes at least, to apply. Not that I was going to tell her that.. but things go better in order, so I'd better get back on track. The shower was too brief to be fun, although it was pleasant, too short to be soothing, although it was pleasant, and too hurried to be savored. Regardless, it was required, and the company was most welcome. This also produced the side effect, of keeping us very interested in one another, as well as doing nothing to lessen her concern, my desire, or the direction we both wanted our shower to take, but knew we couldn't.

It was over in, what felt like, a heartbeat. Then the fun truly started. Whilst I was gloating to myself, I picked up a few things I had gotten ready before we left. I'd stashed them in the cabinet in the bathroom, and since I got out and dried off first(A required evil I fear, I'd have taken the path of immediate gratification if I lingered longer), I had time to get things into order before Fucktoy finished with her hair(I may be getting fluffy in that department, but I maintain a High-n-Tight). When she stepped out of the shower, I was standing there, ready for her. In my left hand dangled 4 leather cuffs, individual ones, 2 larger, 2 smaller. My right hand, held a pair of modified swim goggles, I'd taken some care with applying black electrical tape to the inside. This ensured that they made a much smaller, vastly more secure, and suitably sleeker and sexier blindfold.

Her face told her dislike of this immediately. Mine left no room for argument, compromise, debate, or any of the hundred and one things she'd rather do than put these on. None the less, she was mine, and she knew it, even if she wasn't enjoying it just this moment. I had her put her hair up into a high ponytail first, and then on went the goggles. The cuffs likewise went onto wrist and ankle without much fuss, and I lead her down to the basement, taking the time to assure her that I had everything under control, and that she was a very good girl. I also made a point of mentioning how proud, and pleased I was that she knew not to argue with me when we were on a schedule.

The set of her face told clear enough that she was far from pleased, and I'm sure if I were able to look into her eyes, I'd see what lie dormant(for the moment) there, but alas, I was not going to let this surprise get spoiled. The basement had been a labor of love, and was turned into a mostly featureless black dungeon, complete with a few hanging chains, Large ring tie down points on two out of four walls, and a few similar rings set deep into the floor.

There was a reason for the cuffs. In perhaps all of two minutes, Fucktoy was standing spread eagle, naked, and unable to see. But back to that package now... You could not have sandblasted the smirk off my face as I opened packages, and cans with almost childish glee. You see, I knew there were no sexy cow costumes to be found, so I was going to make one, and Fucktoy was my canvas.

There are simply glorious things you can get on the internet, Liquid Latex being one of them. Latex body paint, was of course on sale, since it was costume season and all, and it was an easy matter convincing myself that a gallon of black would be more than worth its weight, White was a bit harder for me to sell myself on, but they sold three different sizes, and I figured a medium amount would do the job. A package of special rollers, and some detail brushes added the finishing flair, White was the color of the day, and I set to work with the roller, doing mid-thigh all the way up to mid-bicep. The latex clung, and flattered. I took extra special care between those thighs, working the detail brush around her, and in just the slightest bit.

By this point, her concerns and objects were gone, or at least in a distant part of her mind. she was wiggling a bit and I told her firmly, "We'll be late if you can't hold still." The typical dairy cow looks as if it was white to start with, and then subjected to a few large splashed of black here and there. I confess, painting her was quite fun once I had her base coat on. I left one nipple white, its twin, and a goodly portion of the breast around it became the first black splotch.

The easiest method unsurprisingly is to outline the area you want to color a time or three(ensuring you have a smooth outside shape), moving inward each time, and then just covering the inside. The splotch over her left breast reached up towards her shoulder, curled around onto her back, and stretched out to perhaps the mid point between her other nipple, and the center of her chest. The end result was.. Fun.

I went on like this for some while, adding splotches, seven large ones, and three smaller ones, before I got to work on her limbs. Black was fine for these. Not many cows I've seen have black legs, but accuracy was not my primary concern. Besides, she liked black, and it'd look lovely with a pair of boots, and maybe some black gloves. But enough of my mind wandering, the end result was quite nice in my opinion. 

It fit like a glove, left nothing to the imagination, wasn't something she could take off, and all the same, I'm sure it felt immensely revealing to her. I do so love it when a plan comes together! I ended up doing her face next, making her tilt her head back so I could go up the neck, and letting it dry before I tilted her face again to better detail. I added a white tongue up from her breast, and painted it around her chin, and around her mouth(I was careful to avoid her lips). Another black patch was started on her forehead, and in a moments.. inspiration, I added a white dot atop it, before tapping the very center of it with just a touch of black. The result was a semi-natural looking "O" which brought about a smile to my face.

I got back to work on her face, although.. not in the usual way. Touching up with the paint a tad, I began to work below her eyes with the black. It wasn't a domino mask, but the effect was deliberate, and rather close. I was sure she could muster up black eyeshadow, and I knew better than to get the latex anywhere near her hair(There was a reason for that pony tail earlier), or god forbid, her eyebrows. There is a proverb about yielding ground and living to fight another day. If she lost any of her hair, or her eyebrows to her costume, I'd never fight again and I knew it.

While I let the last of that paint dry, to keep her from making trouble, I grabbed her head,(Yes, my fingers were in her hair, yes, I was balling it up and holding it away from her, Yes, I was damned well enjoying it) and held her still while I kissed her deeply. It worked, although she did try to press against me. Height doth have its advantages, and I was able to lean in to kiss without putting myself in a position that was sure to cause trouble(And either painfully early latex removal, or the ruination of my chest hair). Besides, I enjoyed staying out of reach, and making her want what she couldn't have.

It was a simple enough matter to hold one for the few seconds it took to get her thoroughly engaged, and by that point, she wasn't alone in her desire for more. I broke off the kiss, I knew I should wait for the latex to dry, but I couldn't help myself, "I'm going to pull the goggles up and off, I want you to lean back, so they don't touch anywhere on their way up. Can you do that for me?" Her nod was almost enough to convince me she was as eager for me to start taking her fetters off as I was. Almost. I was pretty eager.

This came rather quickly to her notice as we did both come straight from the shower after all. Her gaze lingered, and I enjoyed it even if it did not last as long as I might have liked, as she was already proceeding to, I encouraged her, "But get a look at you..." trying to seem more in control than I felt at that particular moment. Look, she did, her gaze drifting down to look at what I had wrought with the depths of my mind. At that point Two things happened quickly enough that they were simultaneous, even if they weren't. Her mouth opened in the sort of haste and speed that is aptly called "Jaw dropping". It was exactly that, her surprise was so complete that the mostly automatic gesture of holding the mouth closed, was forgotten for a time. I confess, on a personal level, I found that sight quite pleasant.

For a fraction of a second, That being the length of time it took for my mind to process her reaction, and thus start the second thing that happened: My life flashed before my eyes. Thankfully, I was a step ahead of her already, I made no move to release those cuffs and let her down, and I gave her as long as she damned well pleased to regain her composure. This provided me with enough time to try and tilt the odds, no sense throwing away any advantage 'eh? I lifted both my brows, this being a look people most often see and read as a mixture of surprise, inquisitiveness, and sometimes confusion. In my case it had more than a hint of trepidation, and to emphasize that, I bit my lower lip as well.

The ball as they say was in her court now.



Halloween Delight Ch. 03



3: A change of Costume.

There is a show on Television called "Lie to me" Its premise involves how a few people can literally read the micro-expressions(essentially your emotions before you can stop them from being displayed) on your face and tell when your lying. Anger, rage, jealousy, nervousness, are but a few. This is relevant, if only so you can understand what I mean when I say that in under a minute, her face went through every expression seen on the show, and about a dozen that haven't been.

This is not to say I was capable of processing what I saw, and figuring out(more-a-less) how she felt. It is however important to say how widely and quickly her emotions ran the gauntlet before her emotional brawl had a clear and decisive winner. Adamant. There was no way in hell I was talking her out like this, it was far too revealing, we never even discussed it, and things of this nature. I refrained from rolling my eyes, but this too was (if not normal) a foreseen outcome, all things considered.

As she continued dressing me down, I took advantage of the fact that I was mobile and she was not. Stepping around behind her, I made for the toy chest and proceeded to rummage. Props can be important, their a core tool in showmanship, you see them all the time in movies and television shows for the simple, eloquent reason that they vastly help us suspend disbelief. Who would believe that a group of intrepid adventurers can visit alien planets when said alien plants have apple trees. Paint a pineapple neon blue however, and add some spinney protrusions, and suddenly the aliens fruit bowl does indeed seem alien.

But back to the matter at hand, When I arrived in front of her again, I had a ball gag in hand, and an expression that seemed rock like in both its solidity and un-malleability. "Knock. It. Off." I enunciated each word with far more vigor than was needed, this was one of my traits when I grew fed up with something, and regardless of any desire, to or avoid-having-to, gag her, the presence of the instrument to do it made the difference. 

Humans like choices, there is a key fact between every presentation ever given be it 'Do X or die.' or 'Red pill? Blue pill?' at times it seems the choice is almost immaterial, but provided we have one, we're happier for it. Admit it 'Do X and I won't kill you.' Doesn't have the same ring to it, we like our choices. People want to choose even if its no choice at all. In those cases, most of the time, the logical option will be taken unless the choice maker has a specific vested interest in thwarting the person giving the choice.

The rebel leader may tell a tyrant where to shove his choice of 'tell us about your friends, or die'. This is invariably a product of emotional involvement, and a desire to make things more difficult. In that particular example, its also the choice of an idiot. Far better would be to play along, and "betray" the rebel operatives inside the tyrant organization. This does not mean you have to tell the tyrant the truth, but it is better to have the momentary gratification of telling him off, or to arrange for him to torture and (likely) kill two or more of his loyal capable operatives?

It's a losing game no doubt, but it can be much better to lose on your own terms than to think you are powerless and do something stupid because its all you think you can do. When I gave Fucktoy the choice "Hush, or I will hush you." she glared with the intent to kill, and while her mouth remained silent, her eyes said all her mouth could, and far more besides. "Good girl." I leaned in to kiss her, she had the good sense not to turn her head or try to stop me, but neither did she part her lips, and engage me either. I repressed a sigh and put the energy to better use. 

Namely, walking around behind her, while I spoke. "You know I'm not dense enough to plan on any given plan simply working," I rummaged more, she turned her head to the side, trying(with poor success) to see me, and keeping her ear turned my way to listen. "Fools, as they say, rush in. You had to realize I had an alternate plan or two," I came up with the skirt I had carefully stashed down here earlier, and a roll of duct tape. "So why the fuss lover? What did you think you would possibly achieve by annoying me for the effort I put into this?" She said nothing, and I was already walking around her to hold up the skirt and tape. Her eyes widened a bit, but she remained silent. That was what it took for me to guess her game, she was still hushing, pointedly waiting for me to tell her she could speak.

It was petty, pointless, and somehow still adorable. It did not however, cause me to play her game, and I simply shrugged, "Right, that's what I thought." I knelt down and loosened the cord that ran through the tie down points to her ankle cuffs. I took a moment then to rise and show her her the skirt. You've seen the sort before, a pleated skirt, probably in a wretched plaid material, in the time honored "Catholic schoolgirl" fantasy.

How a man can see a plaid skirt and stay hard, and why Catholic's are so fond of a wretched design, I may never know, but that's a topic for a different time. The point of that example is to explain the style, not the color, but come to think, a better example might be a cheer leader. It was a white skirt, entirely when I selected it. Specifically on account of it being white, Like the a fore mentioned cheerleader skirts, the pleats weren't visible unless the legs were spread, but you see.. this skirt is how I grew comfortable with painting latex on. The inner pleats had been left a white cotton, while the panels that were seen when the skirt wasn't stretched, had been done up in black latex.

I was fairly sure I'd be doing the remaining cotton bits in black latex once Halloween was over, but well.. What's not to like about a pleated latex skirt, save for the fact that it might get worn. Anyway.. I knelt, and lowered it back down to about mid shin, stretching the waist band out and holding it open before her, waiting for her to step into it. She declined and I counted to 10 silently waiting before I spoke. "Its this or nothing, so you'd better make up your damned mind as to which your prefer." Her glare, somehow became more frosty, but after an additional moments hesitation she stepped into it. My mood was an apt match to her glare, and once her feet were in it.. I slipped it up, taking my time so as to deliberately and slowly feel her legs as the skirt slid.

I pulled the band out as far as it would go, and let it snap back against her skin. I played with the skirt, its as simple as that, I adjusted it up and down probably about a dozen times before nodding and lifting my eyes to meet her's. We glared at each other for a moment or three before I knelt back down, looping fingers through the cord at her cuffs and jerked it back down just as savagely. I can't say if she liked the feeling of the cord zipping over her second skin as I pulled it out from between her and the belt, but I will say that when I told her to spread her legs, she complied without me having to tie her open again. perhaps it was another of those cases of people liking choices.

The trick now, was to find out for myself if she liked this or not.. There was one sure fire way. I pushed the skirt up higher, and laid my palm against her. Cupping her with my hand, I stroked my fingers over her flesh, slowly, teasing, testing.. I wanted to see how long it took to make her squirm. She was still annoyed, it took almost ten heartbeats before she was moving to clench her thighs on my hand. The next task was even more fun..

I began pressing into her, slowly increasing the force. The task you see, was to ensure the latex didn't impair her.. usability. I had painted inside her Labia Major a bit, just up to the crevice where it turned into the Labia Minor.. Somethings its best to double check however. I did more than Double check, I slipped a finger into her slowly, feeling both wetness, and ensuring the paint didn't get anywhere problematic. It was shortly joined by a second finger, "Double" checking and all. I took my time teasing her with the third finger, pushing just hard enough to make her start to open.. but drawing it back before it entered. 

I could never get enough of tormenting her, it was simple as that. I played with her like this for an entire excruciating minute before I finally drew my first two fingers mostly out..And plunged all three deep inside her in a coordinated thrust. No matter what else could be said, she was certainly enjoying this. Standing then, I began putting my arm and back into the effort, the result was that when I thrust up, she was on her tippy toes now, she had to be. "Do you like the skirt dear?" I cooed into her ear, my hand still relentlessly working at her. By now I was teasing with a fourth finger, alternating it between rubbing gently, and hard against her clit. Every so often, I even slip it just the barest bit.. up into her as well.

She reacted as was expected considering the stimulation.. dripping even as she sneered at me. Her voice cold and cutting displaying her contempt, "Need to use your hand to get the job done do you?" My eyes narrowed, I placed my thumb over her clit and closed my hand grinding my thumb with increasing pressure, "That, was a mistake Fucktoy." I withdrew my hand and gave her clit a hard swat with the back of my fingers. "Naught girls get punished, not rewarded." I tossed the roll of duct tape over onto the bed. 

I grinned as my mind wandering towards its use, and stroked my free hand up over her breast, pinching at the little bump of her nipple before making a soft, "Tsk," sound at its state. "No, this won't do at all, We'll have to do something about this top now won't we?" My grin promised trouble, and I do believe she could see that quite well. I unhanded her slit and and went to work stripping her chest bare. If she was going to insist on more to wear than just latex, I'd have to get creative with the latex to get my money's worth out of it. I set to work on freeing her cuffs from the cord.

After a few moments she was free again, and I pointed to the bed on the back wall, "Atop, hands and knee's." A brief hesitation and she went. She knew what that position meant, and was looking forward to the party, now that I'd relented and let her wear something. By the same token she was still bare of breast, so she was in no condition to go out just this second either. Compliance won out, and she went over to the bed, taking deliberate care to sway her hips, and turn to watch me watching her.

I was doing more than just watching, I was following, the evil scheme already in my head. I stopped her, and held her a moment at the foot of the bed. The roll of tape from earlier had been reclaimed and I quickly tore off one piece, about a 3 inch by 3 inch square, and slapped it firmly atop her nipple. The same procedure was followed with her other nipple and I grinned at her. "That may help keep it from being too revealing lover.." I pinched her nipples under the tape gently, "After all, you belong to me. No sense inviting others too touch as well as look." She adopted a mild pout, and I grinned all the more, sitting on the bed.

Spreading my legs, I patted the inside of my thighs, suggesting, "Why don't you put that head right here, I'll make it all better." She never could resist an offer like that, and she began sinking gracefully towards her knee's immediately. I stopped her, "No no no, I want to see you bend over at the waist while you do." Her grin at this was almost as wicked as my own, she ruined the effect of a cruel grin by licking her lips. I did not mind.

I've mentioned her mouth before, It's cosmic. It's like the big bang. No one(least of all me) can explain it, No one can prove it works, but the results of both are undeniably present as they are mind blowing. This, being par for the course with Fucktoy.. meant I had to pull her off(Yes, I'm very lucky in that I have a harder time getting her off of my cock, than I do getting her onto it) of my self, after only about 15 seconds. Paint before pleasure.

Pushing her off my shaft, I gathered up the paint, and pulled her back into position. I wanted her bent at the waist for a specific reason.. As I painted over her breasts a second time, it became clear to her. I was not painting between them. The brush dipped perhaps an inch into the seam that was created at her breasts pressing against each other, and no more than that. When the latex dried, It would form to the shape her body was in at the time, this meant, it was going to lift, squeeze, and thrust her breasts all at once.

I made another slight change this time as well. I didn't paint them completely. I left a centered heart shaped cut out high on her chest, so that said seam was quite.. noticeable.. I made it longer than it was wide(Obvious reasons), and quickly got back onto the bed, spreading my legs. As much as I loved the feel of her breasts against them.. I wanted her tits to dry like that, and having them stuck to me, while pleasant, would severely hamper our fun tonight.

The devil as they say, was in the details. It seemed like every fifteen seconds, I was having to keep her from kneeling, or pull her hands away from herself. When left untended, her hands grew ever so restless. The latex took it sweet time drying, and I will confess, that the feeling of her mouth around my thick, engorged shaft, did a terrible number on my will power. I don't know how long I was able to hold out.. It felt like half an hour, it was probably only mere minutes. Regardless, I did keep her bent over, and encouraged her to remain that way by once again employing my clever fingers.

It was a simple matter really, The better still she stayed, the faster, and deeper I went. As the minutes ticked by, I added fingers(I started her off with two) to encourage her that it was worth remaining still. She only worked against herself twice. The first time, she started trying to goad me, and as a result, I withdrew one finger. She did not like that one bit, and subsided when I asked if she'd prefer I not slip inside her. The second time was less intentional, she began sinking towards her knee's as she grew close to release. I halved the speed of my thrusts, and she bit her lip and managed to stay standing while she soaked my hand in her juices. That deserved an apt reward also.

The result was by the time I was sure her chest was Dry, I had my arm inside her halfway to the elbow. She was not complaining. Once the latex was dry, I pulled her back up to inspect it. The result was almost enough to delay us further. Her breasts pulled apart some when she stood up, but not much, and while they also sank lower on her chest, the latex was doing a delicious job of keeping them in the place I painted them into. I love it when a plan comes together! I mentioned the heart shaped keyhole in the front. There were two reasons for this, the more minor one was because I wanted it that way. 

The major one, on the other hand, had to do with her lactation.. You see, I had fed during dinner, but not since. It was almost eight by now, and dinner was around 5:30. On the weekends, I'd kept her on a strict pumping schedule. Hour on, Hour off, simple, easy to remember, and intense. Weekday's are a bit more lenient, in a fashion.. She's to pump when she wants throughout the day, and at night when we cuddle up.. Lights off, pump on. Yes, she's pumped the entire night through. As you might guess, she has quite sensitive nipples now, but I digress. As you might guess, the net result of all this pumping is a rather.. active.. process of lactation. 

Two hours had passed and she hadn't pumped. And I'd just taped up, and painted over her nipples. Yes, she was going to look increasingly endowed as the evening wore on, and I left that keyhole bare, so that she had some room to expand, and so that her charms came readily to eye so that one might appreciate them. Besides, it was just plain fun to know her breasts got more and more sensitive, and watching the resulting swell.

Now, it was time for the hellish part.. To don the chicken suit, and be seen in public like that. This, would not be nearly as pleasant...



Halloween Delight Ch. 04



4: A Dance, a Delight, a Deception. Things in three's.

My suit was much as you might expect, a large shaggy looking yellow-feathered looking beast, complete with shaggy yellow head and all. Being seen in this thing, was not my idea of a good time, and yet.. considering the corner I'd painted Fucktoy into, Well, it was worth it. The night seemed to take forever to pass, especially if you were in a chicken suit. In the interest of not being recognized in the damned thing, I decided I would simply squawk replies to anyone and everyone.

I wasn't really interested in getting to know the neighbors better, Fucktoy however was freely circulating, talking to the girls, and turning down more than one drink she was offered. The latter, I decided I was going to change. I suppose the night was taking forever to pass for her as well, considering her costume, and the potential for embarrassment. I'm sure she was constantly aware of the attention she was getting. Sidelong glances, appreciative looks, More than a few invitations to dance. She might not have won the award for best costume, but I'd call it a safe bet, that even faithful husbands were thinking of her in bed that night.

Sometime around nine, I had grown bored, and was offering her the first alcoholic drink that she'd accept that evening. She knew my "offer" for what it was, and gave me a little glare when I pantomimed downing it, in front of the women she was talking with. She gave an over-loud sigh, rolled her eyes, and did such. I clapped my wings together, and encouraged her new friends to do the same. She had the grace to blush, but I'm sure she was trying to think up a more insulting costume to make me wear next year.

I gave her a bit, wandered off, and let her put it out of mind, and watched her. The costume was enticing to say the least, and time and again, I looked around just to see how much the other men in the room admired her paint job. This of course lead my imagination off on a merry little chase, and kept me occupied imagining for a while. It had been about 20 minutes since her last drink, and I proceeded to put something special into order. I filled two trays up with shots, and began moving around the room, offering them to everyone. Fucktoy's group was served last of course, and low and behold, there were around 10 extra's on the tray when each of the girls had taken one. I wonder how that happened.

I made a pleading gesture to the group, and using Fucktoy as my example(of course), I took up a free hand and put a second shot into it. Thankfully, looks can't kill, and she didn't want it to be obvious she was trying to warn me off. The knot of girls each took up two shots, and there was only one left on the tray, which I took into hand.

Letting out a particularly loud squawk, "Boooock!" I got the attention of more a less everyone in the room. The reasoning capacity of the human brain is fascinating, almost as much so as the capability for non-verbal communication.

"Boock.... bock, bock, bock!" was what I said. The assembled crowd however echoed.. "Happy Halloween!" The word Halloween is broken down into 3 parts to pronounce. Hal-o-wean. I may have said nothing that made any sense, but coupled with shots, a holiday, and that amazing tool of interpretation.. No one had any trouble figuring out what A toast was, or how to react, or what to toast.

As Fucktoy and her friends downed two shots each, I splashed mine over my plastic beak, I rather detest the vice of alcohol, and knowing the scent would fade quickly enough. I'd helped her build up her alibi, all that was left to do was watch.. and give the slightest nudge. I began moving around to the scattered groups of chatting and chuckling men.

A nudge in the ribs, and nod towards the subject was usually enough to get any fellow to glance and appraise. No matter that the subject was dressed up as a cow, or that the chicken was saying only "Bock..Bock, Bock Bock Bock Booock Booooock" The words said mattered far less than the one they were each thinking. 'Now there, is a cow worth driving' may have matched my timing, but I leave it to you to guess what the fellows heard, and more importantly.. what they were thinking.

All I can say is the chuckling increased, and someone voiced a sentiment about wishing he'd dressed up like farmer brown. Beneath the beak, I grinned. I repeated this process twice more, before someone finally acted on the idea, and went to take the cow for a dance. She had, in the meantime, taken a few drinks on her own, and it might have helped that the fellow offering this dance was dressed in a most interesting choice of costume.

He was a spartan. I could only conclude we had single neighbors, because I saw a decisive lack of his female counterpart, and were one such present, I doubt he'd have been allowed near another woman. His costume was a near match for Fucktoy's in revealing-ness. A simple leather skirt(longer than her's actually) that came down to mid thigh, A red cape held up by two leather straps, Bracers on both forearms and shins, sandal's, and most importantly, the body to wear such, and pull it off.

At the time "The monster mash" was playing. I recall this only as it was a horrible song for the sort of dancing they were doing. Let us simply say, it was far less about steps, than about grinding, and pressure. There was much less shaking and moving than there was thrusting and rubbing. I admit, I was thick and full at the sight of it. It was a struggle to keep from getting hard and stiff, but I rather needed to be able to walk.

They danced a bit longer, and I could tell she knew I was watching them. I could tell this of course, because she looked my way a few times, and indulged herself. Once it was grabbing his ass while I watched, another time it was whispering into his ear, and the third time she even began to nibble on his neck. Yes, those drinks were having quite an effect on her. I distracted myself by thinking to my fallback costume in the car(a short way's up the street), and how and where I would change. But let's return to that later.

Fucktoy whispered one more thing in his ear, and sauntered off, stopping briefly(we'll return to that), ere departing through a doorway. As hard as I was fighting not to be, her spartan must have been wearing a cup. It looked like a softball was pressing out against his skirt. I didn't know what she said to him(she told me later that night) but my guess was to wait a while, and then a place of where to join her. What she did say differed a little. "Backyard, wait three minutes, Bring a friend. I dance better with someone behind me too." Again, I didn't know this at the time, but it had all the earmarks of trouble, knowing my slut, so I watched the spartan.

He had no trouble picking out someone who had been watching her dancing. Truthfully, he had a few options in that regard.. a great many male eyes were on Fucktoy the cow, as the saying goes 'hate to see her go, but love to watch her leave'. Perhaps out intrepid spartan had a sense of irony, perhaps it was simple chance that he picked the first fellow to meet his eyes, either way, the fellow he exchanged words with was(amusingly enough) dressed up as a cowboy. I was hard pressed not to laugh inside my chicken suit, having been able to take a guess what she'd said.

But let's return to her departure. She looked at me after her shoulder and displacing that grin I so adored on her face, she blew me a kiss. It was a challenge, and I knew it, The drinks might have been my forcing her hand, but there was little enough coincidence in the fact that she got me into a chicken suit, and was toying with another man on the dance floor. After all, who would expect a chicken of all things to be aggressive and assertive? I spent a few moments after her departure grinning in unseen appreciation of her twisted little mind. My daze was broken when I saw said spartan and cowboy exiting through the same doorway. Things were about to get interesting.

I waited a few moments, and followed. Where the pair of them went out into the backyard, I headed down the hall and found the bathroom, no sense in following too closely. Leaving the light off as I stepped in, I shut and locked the door before peering out the window, to watch the gentlemen walk off into the darkness. It seemed, my plan was working out nicely. I waited another minute or two and wandered out the front door before circling the house. It's hard to be stealthy in a large yellow chicken suit.

As I moved through the darkness, my mind ran through every curse in the book for my sluts choice in costumes. The damned thing made too much noise and was too bright, even in the dark. I resolved to burn the damned thing as soon as I could. Suffice to say, it took me all too long to catch sight of them, and it was all too hard to remain unseen. I did have some luck in that regard however. To whit, they were in the very back of the back yard, between the rear fence, and a toolshed.

It wasn't centered in the yard, so I was able to slip around a side and watch. MY delay it seemed, had given them more than enough time. I arrived to find Fucktoy kneeling atop her spartan, rocking up and down as cowboy bob was clutching her head to his hips. Say what you will, my slut was certainly motivated if nothing else. I had perhaps the best angle I could have hoped for. She was facing towards me, with the spartan lying beneath her, his head pointed towards me, while the cowboy was standing in front of her, his head tilted up to see stars.

Fucktoy was rocking between the two, and at first I couldn't put my finger on it, but something just seemed.. wrong.. with the sight. It wasn't a matter of action or deed, but it was as if my eye was malfunctioning. I dismissed it as a trick of the light, and stared more intently. My dear, darling little Slut(with a capital "S") was truly enjoying herself, bouncing and bobbing. She proceeded like this for a fair bit, perhaps half a minute before she pushed the cowboy out of her throat, and proceeded to do what she did best: Goad.

"You want...," A hastily inhaled breath, "More than.. mmmm," A low moan, "My throat." She held him back, despite his obvious desire, both of her hands wrapped around him and working up and down. He agreed quickly(I assumed), and she told him what she wanted. Her voice was obviously louder than prudence would dictate, that goes without saying in this sort of situation. "Go find a friend," she nodded back towards the party, "He can have my throat when you get back... You..." She made a show of licking her lips in the pause, "can have my ass."

That had an effect on him alright. He grabbed her head and tried to shove her down on his cock, but she was having none of it and just turned to the side. His cock hit her cheek and left a slick smear across the side of her face. Meanwhile, her wet little cunt was busily working on the spartan, who was working up quite a sweat, and working up to what was bound to be quite an orgasm. As the cow boy released her head and starting trying to somehow get his cock back into his pants, Fucktoy glanced down at the spartan while the cowboy moved off around her back towards the house. Calling over her shoulder, she amended herself, "Two! Bring two friends.." She called out to his departing form before lowering her voice back down to simply loud. She caught my eye and finished "He's not going to last much longer." 

"Are you?" She looked down to ask him, sparing only a brief glance in my direction through her lashes. "No.. your almost done," She teased him, both in words and actions. She rose up onto her knee's and paused. That's when I figured out what seemed odd about the sight earlier. My mind had been as busy as her cunt, so its no surprise really that I missed it, but her spartan was most impressive. She was up on her knee's entirely, and he was still inside her. I guessed, I hoped, he was just barely inside her, but as I watched, it became apparent how large he was. She leaned forward, and pressed her lips against his, kissing him deeply while she taunted him with her wet tightness, refusing to descent back down onto his shaft while she amused herself with his tongue. He, meanwhile waited maybe as much as a second and a half for her to sink down his length, before losing his patience, and bucking his hips up.

The force of it rocked her up off her knee's for a moment. She knew I was watching, she was trying to goad me now.. I decided not to give her the satisfaction. Besides, I needed to quickly see to a few things. Behind the corner of the shed, I listened to her and him while I changed costumes. I had fetched my spare when I went out front, and brought it with me. It was a simple affair, a black robe, and a white mask which is familiar if you've ever seen scream. Beneath the chicken suit, I had worn black pants, a black turtle neck shirt, and.. black boots inside those damned chicken feet.

It was a simple matter to strip in haste, throw the robe on, and don the mask. I slipped off with the chicken suit, and kept an eye on the cowboy. I won't get into details, but like the spartan, I watched to see who watched her when she left, so I had a target in mind already. I asked to speak to him alone and I made a brief simple offer. "You saw the cow dancing earlier. Want to fuck her until -you- have had your fill?" Not many men would turn down the chance to fuck a woman until they were satisfied. Simple math really. Men want it 100% of the time, women want it perhaps 10% of the time. A lucky man might find a woman who would give an extra 10-15% when she's not in the mood. That's double or more as often as she wants it. 

The world is literally full of men who simply aren't fucked enough. I hadn't taken a breath before he'd agreed, and I laid out what he needed to do. I handed him the chicken suit, and told him to step behind the garage and change, I'd keep an eye out. "I'm her husband. Relax, I'm OK with it. Put that on, head around behind the toolshed down back, and all you have to do.. is don't talk, and leave the mask on. She pulls shit like this to goad me, so this time I'm going to get even. As long as your in the suit, and she thinks your me.. you can do anything you can make her. She might argue, or goad you, she's like that. If you have the balls to throw her down and fuck her throat.. she'll take it. What's more, she'll like it."

I heard the gears whirling, and left him with a few more words. "Give it say.. 10 minutes, I'll have her in position, and in the middle of something." The cowboy, was in the middle of an animated talk with A devil, and some sort of ghoul, things were going to get interesting shortly. I flipped up the turtleneck, tucked the neckline of the robe up over the mask, so that it hung at the base of me neck and was covered in black, and moved through the darkness to watch again. This would be interesting.

She was still riding the spartan when I got back, another ten or eleven times he drove up into her like a battering ram. Predictably, she was taunting him, asking if he'd ever had anal. Asking if he liked the idea of the cowboy sliding deep and hard into her ass. His responses were a mixture of groans and growls. It seemed he rarely got to try anal when women saw his size. Fucktoy was playing the consoling temptress at that point, Cooing out how sorry she was, and how maybe he'd been trying the wrong sort of woman.

Again, I could hear gears whirling. "You mean... " he started, only to be cut off as she said, "I might." A habit of her's when she wanted to piss me off, I hated her interrupting me. "You would let..." She cut in again, "I might." I could care less about her interrupting him, in a way it was actually reassuring that she didn't feel any need to listen to his thoughts or opinions. Good thing she didn't know that. "Think you could..." He began again, and this time, she had a different answer, he was asking the right questions now, and she was letting him know it. "Only one way to find out..." She let it trail off in an unspoken dare.

I'll mention now that head to toe in black, in the dark of night, behind a tool shed, with only two people nearby, who are both engaged in the pursuit of pleasure, I was invisible. I could have been jerking off three feet away from them, grunting and groaning as much as they were, and I doubt either of they would have taken any notice of it. The idea was tempting, but watching what would come seemed to be much more interesting.

I mentioned I was invisible for one simple reason. I was only three feet away. Standing in the open, simply holding still, with one hand under my robe, squeezing myself. This is only worth of mention because as good a view as I had, It was a blur to even me. It's only because of what she told me afterwords, combined with being able to see the place and position they ended up in that I can piece together how they flowed from one to the other.

Large, lightly calloused hands wrapped around the smallest point of her waist before she could give voice to the unspoken taunt. Laying on his back, he had ample leverage, and ample strength to lift her up, and simply place her up above his head. That was exactly what he did. As she was forming the first word of "What are you doing," he flexed his muscles, his entire body almost. He rolled over with speed as various muscles on his left side jerked up against gravity, while his left shoulder dug into the grass. 

By the time she can completed "Are you" he had most of his torso on her back, his hands were in fists, planted on the ground to either side of her ribs, his entire body ready for one more snap of motion. At the end of "Do-" she felt his head against her cunt again. Let me side track for a moment because through all of this, I did git my first clear glance of his shaft. As it turned out, it was neither a cup, nor a softball under his skirt. Let us say if you took a plaster mold of his cock while it was hard, you could have dumped a can of Pepsi into it, and you might have a quarter of the mold left empty. It was less a matter of the width than of the girth. This is not to say the length wasn't impressive, He hung half way to his knee, Ten inches, give or take, by my guess. But the width and breath of him is what must have made her eye's widen. 

He was somewhere between six, and seven inches around. And to put that into perspective, a Soda can is Eight inches around. Fucktoy would say later that it was like getting fucked by a beer bottle, but back to what was going on. By the time she had completed "What are you doing?" He was inside her cunt again, all the way. She's told several times now that she left like head of his shaft was going to pop out of her belly button. But this change in position was not so that he could fill her cunt, that had been nothing more than a case of over-eagerness coupled with poor aim.

He wanted her ass, and she had offered it, or at least hinted, but that was good enough for him. He withdrew, and this time put a hand on his shaft, steering the head as he parted her. She wound up biting her lip as his steel like cock drove the width of his head in. "Ah! Gentle," she pleaded behind her, "Your so big. I'm not sure I can..." It was, a red flag, to a bull. He leaned forward over her again, and cupped one hand over her mouth, and he whispered(loudly) into her ear. "To late."

I don't know how much he had partaken of that evening, but coupled with his desire, this promising vision before him, who seemed in danger of not keeping her promises, and his long suppressed desire to try a woman's ass, Gentle was not on the menu. He slid in slowly, savoring the feeling of how tightly she clenched, trying to keep him from plunging deeper. She failed. Mister Hyde was awake, eager, and already in place. He was neither stopping, nor slowing down at this point.




Halloween Delight Ch. 04



However, she had never taken a cock like this in her ass before, and it was with some annoyance that this spartan realized she didn't have room for the last two inches. He realized this, only after hitting the end of the road, drawing his hips back, and trying to batter his way deeper and deeper. She was pleading with him now, begging him to stop, "Slow.. Gentle.. AHH! Please... Stop!" I simply watched. I had trained her a bit in how to resist should she find herself in a situation like this..Her pleading, and begging at his size, was as arousing as it was staged for his, and I'd wager my, benefit. While she pleaded, she made trivial protests, and tried to crawl away.. he was having none of it. I'd trained her myself, so I knew as much as she did, and the simple fact is that none of her actions were designed to cause harm, or do damage. She didn't know I had a spare costume, or that I'd changed into it. I imagine she still thought I was around the corner, listening to all this. She didn't know I was standing off to the side, the only motion betraying my presence was the slight shifting of a shadow as I inhaled and exhaled.

I speak of the training I gave her to make a point clear, she was protesting for effect, for the the lavish praise it heaped upon ego, and for the fact that she expected it to draw me out, and make me step in to "Save" her. It did not, and that was because I saw how half-assed it was. There were benefits to being invisible, like fucking up her tricks. Still, there was some truth to her protests. Had the spartan been smaller, Had he not had so much sliding in and out of her, he might have remained wetter as this all went on. Were he not the first man of the night, She probably would have been well slicked up and able to take him with as much pleasure as pain.

As it was however, his thick, heavy, swollen cock 'blazing the trail' so to speak, it was too much for her to truly enjoy it. That sure didn't stop him however, he was loving every moment, and taking some joy in her bemoaning the size. By the time he came, one splayed hand had moved to hold her down, pressing her shoulders against the ground, the other was grasping, slapping and kneading her ass even as he took it. By this point her juices had run down both her legs slicking the latex, not from what he was doing to her, but rather, how he was doing it. 

She was a woman, and he was making her, his. It was savage, and forceful, and borderline brutal how he was using her. She couldn't get enough of it. When he came, surging and thrusting deep inside her, she could feel his pulse inside of her, feel his heartbeat where she clenched around him, and having enjoyed his display of naked force as much as she did, she made it better for him. She rocked back and forth, spreading her knee's until they were about shoulders width apart. This had the noticable result of opening her wet little cunt wider, and tightening the pressure on her ass.

She felt him surge into her again and again, Perhaps a dozen times(such was her guess anyway) all told. So many that he actually started to slide in and out again, syncing it up so that at the deepest of each thrust he pulsed, his cum slipping deep up into her, sliding further into her, where he was unable to go despite all his wanting. Part of him, parts of him, continued deep inside of her, acting still on his desire to fill her. When he finished and slumped over to the side, it was pure luck that he went right and not left. Well not all luck I suppose, more a trait of the dominant hand, but that's a different matter. Suffice to say, a right handed person, if lost in the woods with no landmarks, quite literally, will go in circles. Large ones, but that's because a right handed person has a slight inclination to go around any given barrier, by going to the right.

Regardless, had he fallen left, I might have been noticed. and I use 'might' to mean 'He'd have fallen onto my boots, and probably noticed they didn't feel like grass.' Fucktoy of course, was not done yet, she rolled him over and went right to work climbing atop him. She didn't bother with his softening, shrinking cock, but went straight to kissing him, and rubbing/scratching at his chest. When she kissed, she rubbed. When she scratched, she turned her tongue on him, trying to goad him into taking her again. This did not last long at all, for you see, the cowboy was back and he had done as he was bid...