0 comments/ 16354 views/ 1 favorites Night of the Wolf By: crypticravings As the men left the meeting, word spread quickly throughout the makeshift village. The decision had been made. At daybreak, the men would ride across the plains to bring war to the Sioux. The Sioux had been attacking the tribe’s hunters, groups of ten or more Sioux killing one or two hunters at a time, and their numbers were dwindling quickly. The only hope was war-to drive the murderers back. They had been edging closer and closer, riding and hunting on land that had been the tribe's for years. The men of the tribe had finally held counsel to decide what to do. Now that it was decided, there was no turning back, no more discussion. They knew they were hugely outnumbered, but this seemed the only way. If they were to be killed, at least they could take some of the Sioux to the Darklands with them. The men left the meeting solemnly to gather what weapons they had, and spend one final night with their families. Singing with Longfeather sat in her hut, quietly waiting for her man to return. She knew that when he finally came he would be deeply troubled by the events of the night, by the decision to shed blood and make war. Silent Windfoot was young to be a part of the counsel, but he was a great hunter, steady and calm. It was an honor that the elders had asked him to join them for the meeting, and he had taken it very seriously. He hadn't yet seen thirty-three summers, but he possessed the wisdom of a man twice his age. Longfeather was so proud that Windfoot was her man, but was sad that he had to help make such an important and terrible decision. The sounds around the camp grew as the men each made their way back to their huts. There was little weeping-the people knew this was a decision that had to be made, and were resolute now that it was done. There was the sound of talking, and then couples making love quietly, then the fires began to go out and the sounds of slumber filled the camp. Still, Longfeather was alone. She assumed her man was off somewhere, considering his decision, lost in his own world. She stood for a while at the entrance to their hut and gazed at the stars, then lay down in the pelts to await his return. She dozed fitfully, dreaming of horses riding across the plains, running and running, never stopping. She awoke some time later to silence. Windfoot still had not returned. She didn’t want to leave the hut to look for him. She knew she could wander in the dark for hours and never find him…especially if he didn’t want to be found. She wondered, briefly, if he was going to spend the whole night alone, and began to grow sad. She decided to start packing his belongings so that, if he did come back, he could rest as long as possible before they left. As she shuffled his things about she heard a strange sound from outside the hut, as if something were sniffing around outside. She was instantly on her guard-wolves had been known to be about, as well as bear. She reached for Windfoot’s dagger and pulled it from the sheath. She began to tiptoe towards the door when suddenly the furs flew back to reveal what seemed at first to be a giant wolf, standing on its hind legs and panting heavily. Then he stepped inside, and Longfeather gasped to see it was Windfoot before her. His hair, which was always neat, was disheveled and tangled. His face was dirty and his eyes wild, as if he had lost all reason and succumbed to some madness. He looked about the hut as if he didn’t recognize anything within. His eyes finally settled on Longfeather, with the dagger still at the ready, and he shivered, closing his eyes and throwing his head back. He gave a low growl, and she gasped again. “Windfoot,” she whispered in awe, “you have been with the Wolf, haven’t you?” His spirit guide was the wolf, and he often spoke to Wolf when times were troubled, hoping the spirit would succor him when he was in need. She had never seen him like this before, though. She was at once greatly fearful, and deeply curious. “I have been with Him. I sought Him out to this night, looking for guidance, hoping that we had made the correct decision. We have spoken at length, and I believe that the decision we made was right… “He is still with me, though,” he said, looking into her, and through her. “His spirit is still inside me. He will join me for our battle. He will help us bring justice to the murdering cowards who haunt us.” He stalked across the hut and grasped her by the shoulders. “This may be the last night we see each other in this world, Longfeather. I want to lay with you, but I fear that I may hurt you. I am not myself.” “You will not hurt me,” she said. “You are my man, and you love me. I am a strong woman. Come to our bed, and we will share our last night together as best we can.” “Never mind the bed, then,” he growled softly. “I don’t want to wait a moment longer for you!” With that, he tore the top of her furs open, revealing the soft dark hollow of her neck. He growled, then he sunk his teeth into her. She cried out, writhing against him. The pain was intense, but the pleasure came too. She had always known him to be a gentle lover, but seeing him like this made her tremble with anxiety and anticipation like nothing ever had before. He moved then to her shoulder, biting her, clawing her clothing from her, running his ragged nails over her back. She moaned, pulled him closer, and stretched her head back, exposing her neck to him again. He was wild, growling and snarling, clawing at her like a feral animal. He turned her around roughly, biting into her right shoulder and cupping her breasts. She could feel his manhood rising, pressing into her buttocks. He began to move down her back, biting her shoulder blades, the curve of her waist-all while digging his nails into her breasts and squeezing her nipples. She moaned, trying to be as quiet as possible in her rising excitement. He made his way back up, and continued biting her neck and shoulders as he kneaded her breasts roughly. Soon both of them were panting fitfully. She tried to turn around, seeking out his mouth, but he instead threw her on to their furs, then he climbed atop her. He held her arms down and stared into her eyes. He kissed her, finally, and they wrapped their arms around each other and held each other tight. She spread her legs for him, and he positioned himself between her thighs as they kissed. With a snarl he plunged his erect manhood into her. She gasped, and drove her hips up to meet his thrust. He felt like a shard, like a dagger piercing her, and she groaned as he impaled her. She was wet and warm as she had never been before, and he took his time moving in and out. His eyes were closed and his head thrown back, as if in deep concentration. As he pushed himself into her, she felt the muscles inside herself contract involuntarily, pulling him in deeper. With each thrust he growled a little, softly, in the back of his throat. She felt the flush rising, the blood flooding her body. They moved that way for a while, his thrusts slow and methodical, her body arching up to meet his, until she began to wonder what had happened to Wolf-the snarling animal that had thrown her down only a moment before. Then, suddenly, his eyes flashed open, and he paused mid-thrust. He stared at her, boring into her eyes and straight into her mind. She stared back at him, puzzled. Then, just as suddenly, he began to thrust into her, hard, making her suck in breath harshly. He continued to stare at her, all the while jamming his body down into hers. “I have to ask something before I go,” he said, raggedly, between his thrusts. “What?” she gasped. “Do you love me?” “Yes,” she said, wondering at him. He pushed harder, if it was possible, and it seemed as though her breath was stolen from her. His brow furrowed in concentration. He continued his hard, quick thrusts, still staring at her, still boring into her soul. She held his eyes, and realized then that this was not some idle question asked in the heat of passion, but something he needed to know before he left her, some point that he needed to make her realize before he could leave with a clear mind. “Do you love me, Singing with Longfeather?!” Thrust Thrust “Yes!” she cried. “Do you know that Silent Windfoot loves you?” Thrust “Yes!” “Do you know that I will think about you… Thrust “…every day that am I apart from you?” “Yes.” Thrust “And do you know that if I die…” Thrust “…if I die, my last thought in this world will be of you?!” “Yes!” They continued on like that for what seemed like an eternity. He kept asking his questions, determined to make her believe in his love of her. All she could do was gasp her replies as he slammed into her again and again. She would come close to her finish, and he would speed up, forcing her over the edge again, making her cry out with her release, then slow and begin with his litany of questions once more. It seemed as though he would never let himself finish. The elder awoke to the sounds coming from Windfoot’s hut. He was bewildered at first. An old man awakened in the dark to wild sounds. He thought at first that some animal had invaded their camp. When he recognized Longfeather’s voice, he realized what was going on and put his head back down next to his woman’s. He didn’t know what was causing Windfoot to sound as he was; he only prayed that maybe Windfoot had been with the Gods, and that their favor would be with them tomorrow. Though their fates were decided, the favor of the gods might make their passing easier. He closed his eyes and tried to go back to sleep. It had been a long time-what seemed like hours-and still he continued on. The sweat stood out on Windfoot’s forehead and ran down his back. Longfeather looked up at him and their eyes locked. “Please, my love,” she begged. “You will need to rest. Let yourself go!” At that, he began to thrust as fast as he could, tearing into her. She cried out. His growling rose to a fevered pitch, and as he filled her with his seed he howled, filling the camp with the sound. Their bodies locked together, singing as the blood coursed through them, as their muscles flexed and they joined in one sound and one movement. He immediately collapsed on top of her, sweating and shaking. For a moment, their panting was as one breath, then almost immediately her body began to acknowledge the wear and strain of the night. She stroked his shanks as she felt sleep slowly begin to take hold of her. Mentally she willed him to relax and be at peace, and to let go. He raised himself on his lean arms, looked at her, then fell beside her into the pelts. He wrapped her in his arms and kissed her, then closed his eyes. When she knew by his breathing that he was finally gone, she too allowed herself to sleep, and for the first time in many nights her sleep was deep and dreamless. The next morning everyone was awake early, even the children. The men were kissing their women goodbye, holding their children for one last time and then they mounted their loaded horses one by one. Windfoot seemed more himself this morning, but Longfeather could still see something seething within him, just below the surface. They gathered his things then stopped together as he stood beside his waiting horse. The pale pink of morning was just beginning to touch the plains to their east. Windfoot gazed off across the swirling grasses toward the sunrise, then turned to look at Longfeather. “The journey ahead of us will be long, and many of us will not return.” “Yes, I know,” she said. “My first duty is to the tribe, and I will fight to my death to protect it.” “Yes,” she replied. “Yet I will do what I can to return to you,” he said as he touched her face. “I know you will. But if you do not return, I will remember that you love me, and that in your last moment in this life you thought only of me, “ she murmured, reaching up to stroke his hand. “I know you will be waiting for me in the Darklands if you do not return.” He kissed her forehead and then climbed atop his horse. “Hopefully, my love, our meeting in the Darklands will be far from now, when we are both old and gray,” he said, trailing off as he looked across the plains again. He looked at her one last time. “I will always be with you,” he said. “I know,” she murmured. “I love you.” He glanced at her one last time, drinking the sight of her in. “Goodbye,” he said. “Goodbye.” With that, he rode away to join the rest of the warriors. The chief looked about and saw that all were ready. He spoke but a single word and, without a glance back, they began their trek. Night of the Wolf A raucous cheer went up as Nikki provocatively popped the button on her levis. She gyrated her hips slowly to tantalise her audience, swaying to the undulating beat of the rock music that blared out from her boyfriend's parked car. Beneath her bare feet the grass felt pleasantly cool. She was relieved that it was an unseasonably warm Halloween this year. She remembered the previous year which was just too cold for outdoor fun and games, a huge disappointment, for Nikki loved the added excitement of the themed costumes. It was a little different and it was those differences that added spice to the occasion. Nikki turned her back on her audience to wiggle her denim clad bottom and was rewarded by wolf whistles and applause from those men who liked a full round curvy ass. To Nikki the audience were unseen, as they stood between the dozen or so cars that formed a large semi-circle in the otherwise deserted field, their headlights flooding her performance area with light. Nikki warming to her performance began to run her hands through her hair down over her loose t-shirt. She wore no bra allowing her to shape her big breasts in a more malleable way. She faced her husband's car and through the glare of headlights she could just make out his dark shape leaning against the door. She performed as much for him as the other men, knew how he loved to watch her dance and writhe in the multiple blaze of car headlights, listen to men cheer his girl, then see them enter the 'stage spotlight' and fuck her senseless, knowing that later when he had her alone at home she was all his. Nikki teased the crowd behind a little more before turning to face them -- more wild cheering. 'Get' em off!' someone shouted, and the call was taken up and soon through the blaring music she could hear the call become a chant. Nikki tossed her head back, her thick auburn hair a wild mane. She fondled her breasts provocatively with one hand, the other snaking to her crotch, judging to perfection her next move -- experience having taught her how long to tease her audience -- she was a surfer judging the crest of the wave, letting it reach its fullest height and then . . . The crowd's chant turned to a roar of delight as Nikki expertly peeled her t-shirt over her head tossing it high to flutter to the ground, as her unfettered big breasts bounced in the bathing warm light. Fuck the X-factor and all those other shows -- this what performing was all about -- no fake bullshit here, Nikki thought as she used her hands to press her breasts together creating a deep cleft in between. This was the real thing. Her audience cheered appreciably. Nikki loved the response, she was soaking wet and had to will herself not to strip too hastily -- enjoy the performance then after enjoy the fucking. Nikki knew they loved her even though compared to a professional strip dancer her moves would doubtless seem clumsy and graceless --but fuck those prick teasers -- making a man spend hard earned money on overpriced drinks and letting him look and not touch, taking the poor bastard's money and then when he'd been fleeced, making him go home and toss off. None of that bull here. Nikki was no professional dancer but what her audience got was one hundred percent genuine. No money charged here and after watching they all got to fuck the dancer and go home satisfied and with their wallets still full, but their balls empty. Nikki swayed, rolling her shoulders so her breasts heaved and bobbed as she moved. The crowd were chanting again; 'Off, off, off . . .' Nikki smiling at them, hooking her thumb behind the button on her denims. She popped it open and the top of the jeans opened a little, looking like two dog ears sticking out. From out of the darkness into the pool of light she saw a girl dash out. She was totally nude except for an decorative black ventian style mask, decorated with long blood red plumes of feathers. Nikki recognised her friend Sylvia. She was thirty five, a few years older than Nikki but her body while not quite as fleshy and curvy as Nikki's concealed her age well. Most men would have thought Sylvia in her mid-twenties not mid-thirties. A huge cheer went up as Sylvia joined the dancing, pressing her body to Nikki's and exploring her big breasts with her small hands. Sylvia facing Nikki and rubbing her breasts against Nikki's, grinned at her friend. They often performed together at these outings and the regulars loved it. Sylvia slithered down to her knees so her face was parallel with Nikki's crotch. Nikki placed one hand on the top of Sylvia's head and began twerking, simulating that she was face fucking the older woman. The crowd roared, and to each bucking motion they began again to chant 'off, off, off.' Nikki felt her friend's fingers hook the top of her loosened jeans and she slowed her rhythmic hip thrusts to allow Sylvia to pull her jeans down more easily. Sylvia pulled off each leg of the garment then to another raucous cheer tossed the jeans aside. Unencumbered by clothes, the two woman continues the obscene dance resuming the wanton motions, Nikki pressing Sylvia's head into her shaven crotch. She felt Sylvia's tongue connect with the wet folds of her labia, and the simulated face fucking became real. Nikki one hand still on Sylvia's head for balance, opened her legs more fully to allow better access for fellow dancer. Sylvia, on her knees angled her head so she could tongue her younger lover more effectively. The men were cheering and clapping to the music as the song reached the end. With song's end Nikki disengaged with Sylvia who now stood beside her friend and lover. To the crowd's applause they French kissed, hands caressing each other's bodies. The crowd of men had surged closed and now some stood on the edge of the circle of car light, dark ragged silhouettes. Nikki and Sylvia broke off the kiss and moved toward their audience, time to discover how much their fans had enjoyed the performance Nikki thought. She loved this moment fondling cocks of all sizes, different shapes, feeling the hardness in her hands knowing she had made them hard. She felt powerful - a goddess among mortal men. 'Aren't you going to fuck her?' a drunken voice jeered from somewhere off to the left of the crowd. A murmur of disapproval rippled through the crowd. It sounded like some young lad. There were more jeers and catcalls and Nikki inwardly groaned, she suspected some gang of youths had gate crashed the dogging session. They seemed to settle a bit and Nikki continued the ritual long developed over many dogging sessions in this field. She moved closer to two men, both in costume, one dressed as Dracula, his face whitened with make up, a long flowing cloak billowing gently in the evening breeze. The only difference between his appearance and the classic Bella Lugosi image was his large erect cock and heavy balls protruding from the flies of his black trousers. Nikki fondled the big cock teasingly.'You can sink your fangs into me anytime,' she said playfully, moving to the next costumed dogger. Less effort on costume here, Nikki mused. He wore jeans and a shirt and his face was concealed behind a Jason Friday the 13th hockey mask. Like drac, his erect cock stood proud and exposed. Nikki gave it an affectionate squeeze, feeling some precome smear her wrist. She put her wrist to her mouth and licked the salty effluence. 'Nice chopper big boy,' she grinned moving round. Three more men, wearing no trousers and cheap looking Scream and Frankenstein masks stood waiting her attention and as she passed by each, she groped each of their tools like some master musician testing her instruments before a great performance. At the edge of the crowd standing a little way from the others she spotted a giant of a man. She sensed immediately he was out of place. He wore no costume, only a ill fitting leather jacket over a white t-shirt. Unlike the other men, he had no aroused genitalia on show and Nikki guessed he was new to the world of dogging. She looked up into his face. He had a heavy lantern jaw, broad squat features, and deep sunken eyes. His hair was lank and untidy. Despite his overbearing size compared to Nikki's diminutive frame, he squirmed nervously under her experienced confident gaze. Nikki gave him a reassuring smile. 'First time big fella? Don't worry, just watch if you want to, no one does anything they don't want to.' He gave her a nervous grin and she lifted a hand to give him an affectionate touch on the cheek, but as her hand moved up his broad chest her fingers brushed a silver medallion. She held it in her fingers a moment, straining in the poor light to make it out. It was a three quarters moon on a silver chain. 'Nice necklace big fella,' Nikki smiled and standing on her tip toes gave him a peck on the chin. 'Join in if you want to,' she said moving back to the costumed men who were more ready for action. The big man mumbled something and over the voices and background music. The words were lost but they sounded to Nikki like; 'I shouldn't be here tonight.' 'Okay boys,' Nikki said, her voice husky. 'You're first.' She took hold of two cocks and using them like leads led the men into the well lit performance area. She glanced over her shoulder at the big giant to see if he was watching her, but he seemed instead to be looking anxiously at the sky. Rain hadn't been forecast had it? she wondered. She looked up at the night sky. It was cloudy, but the clouds were mostly white -- not rainclouds. She noted how their edges were lined by silver moonlight, then her attention was back at the job in hand -- and in hand quite literally. The two stiffened hard cocks in eack of her hands were hot and slippery with precome. She looked into the masked faces of their owners - one of the ones wearing a Scream mask, the other Frankenstein. 'You boys have such big monster cocks' she purred, getting down on her knees. They gave a chuckle to her quip. 'You gonna be our lady in distress?' Frankenstein's monster said. Nikki recognised his voice -- one of the regulars. 'Uh uh,' Nikki soothed, 'I'm gonna be bride of Frankenstein -- and you know what a good bride does on her wedding night?' Before Frankenstein could respond Nikki took his erect big cock in the warm pit of her mouth, running her tongue over the bulbous hard head, tasting precome. 'Jesus fucking Christ,' Frankenstein breathed. With her other hand Nikki took Screams cock in her hand slowly wanking him so he stayed hard. She bobbed her head, taking Frankenstein's cock deeper into her mouth, then almost completely out of her mouth, come dribbled down her cheeks to fall cold on to her naked big breasts that Scream was fondling as she jerked him off. She moved faster, knowing she had many men to satisfy and they wouldn't stay hard all night. Sylvia would be helping but there was alot of horny men to get though. Halloween was always popular in the dogging community. Frankenstein gave a deep grunt, a noise unlike any Boris Karloff had made in the role, as he came in Nikki's eager mouth. She swallowed down the copious thick warm ejaculate, then turning her face to Scream took his patiently waiting hard cock into her mouth. Maybe if Drew Barrymore had sucked off her assailant instead of screaming annoyingly, she mightn't have got the chop, Nikki thought as she took her second cock of the night deep in her come coated mouth.. God, her belly would be full tonight. From somewhere in the hubbub of the gathering she heard angry male voices, and groaned inwardly. Christ, those louts that had gate crashed the evening were going to fuck up the night. It sounded like a row was breaking out. She thought she heard someone shout; 'Stop that -- Why don't you lot just piss off?' There were other angry voices -- it sounded like it might get ugly. Nikki hoped it would sort itself out. She kept on sucking off Scream, who seemed not to be aware of the ugly commotion going on, but to fair he was pleasantly distracted. 'Can I join in?' a deep male voice enquired. An older man, one of the regulars no doubt. Her mouth full and not wanting to break her bobbing motion, she slapped her rump, widening her legs, so the man could mount her from behind. 'How did those fucking pricks find out about tonight?' he growled referring to the growing disturbance in the background. Clearly he was impatient to get some action before the night ended prematurely. Nikki felt him enter her easily from behind. She was still wet, but the growing disturbance was distracting her from any sexual pleasure, if things sounded like they were getting any more out of hand she'd have to break off the action. It was not however a sound from the direction of the disturbance that finally decided things for Nikki, but voices from the other side of the semi circled gathering. A man's voice clear and full of alarm; 'Jesus, what's wrong with him, he sick or something?' That's fucking it, Nikki thought. She pushed Scream away freeing her mouth, then turned her head to the man who was humping her from behind. 'That's enough Drac, I can't fuck with this shit going on.' He pulled out, shrugging in agreement. Just then a cry went up and there came the smack of fist on face. A fight had broken out now. 'For fuck's sake,' Nikki cursed, squinting into the dazzling light at the fracas. Men were milling about, she could see shoving and punching, hear curses and cries. It was getting nasty. 'Call the fucking police,' some cried out. She made out a female scream -- Sylvia? Then a voice from behind; 'Someone call an ambulance for fucks sake, he's having some sort of fit.' Nikki, stood unsure what to do. It was as if two separate crisis were happening at once. The fight seemed to intensify, and she saw a costumed man clutching a bloodied face and staggering away from the fight. Other men were peeling away too, fleeing the chaos and violence. Cars reversed as owners hurriedly fled the disastrous sex session. Nikki watched in alarm, and screamed after them, realizing that now there were fewer men to fight off the gang of thugs that was causing all the trouble. She saw her boyfriend, Dave's car but couldn't see any sign of him. She moved toward the tangle to struggling cursing fighting men. A woman was crying out, clearly in pain -- it had to be Sylvia. Nikki pushed past two men kicking and punching each other, to see Sylvia on the ground a man on top of her, trousers pulled down, laughing as he raped her. 'You fucking bastard!' Nikki screamed hurling herself at the man, sharp nails faking his face as he tried to twist his head aside. 'Fucking cunt!' he yelled, rolling off Sylvia. Nikki grabbed his hair to pull his face back so she could claw at his eyes - then a movement caught her attention - someone else. She saw the fist too late to duck. Her head exploded into blinding light then immediate dark nothingness. Pain. Nikki came round feeling immense pain as though the top of her head was on fire, then as the murk of unconsciousness lifted she realised she was being dragged along the ground by her hair. She tried to use her arms to propel her movement and lessen the agonizing pressure on her scalp, but it was impossible. With a savage grunt her assailant dumped her onto the ground. Nikki's tongue felt bloated and big, she could taste blood in her mouth. Her captor leered down at her. Christ, Nikki thought, just a kid, he can't be a day over twenty one. The revelation didn't lessen the fear for she saw he had a knife. 'Awake are we, you fucking cunt!' he spat. Nikki blinked trying to shake the fogginess and pain from her head trying to organise her thoughts. She looked round trying gauge her surroundings. There were only a few cars left in the field, presumably the gang's. Then her heart sank as she saw Dave's car had gone. He'd fucked off and left her, the cowardly bastard. The yob guessed her thoughts. 'Aw your fucking boyfriend run off has he? Didn't fucking hang around long when I showed him this,' he brandished his knife. The ringing in Nikki's head eased and she could hear other sounds, Slyvia, she was crying, in pain. Jesus, they were still raping her. She looked up the sneering youth, her mouth dry with fear. 'That's right, your little friend's giving it nice to my mates, she's a bit old for my tastes. But you, even though you're a bit past it yourself love, you got nice tits.' Nikki licked her lips struggling to find her voice. She was shivering in terror. 'Why? This is a dogging party, you could have fucked us anyway, why this?' 'You stupid cunt, you think I want to stick my cock in you after you've had all them dirty old wankers, you think I'm a pervert like them lot?' Nikki stared back, at a loss for words, but desperately trying to think of way to escape from this nightmare. 'Talking's over, bitch,' the yob cocked his head, holding his blade up. 'Now spread your legs like a good little whore.' He got down on his knees. Using his knife to encourage Nikki to move her legs apart more quickly. 'Just don't hurt me,' Nikki whimpered. In the background she could hear her friend's ordeal continue. Sylvia's whimpering was weaker now and Nikki wondered how badly they had beaten her. Nikki's rapist lowered himself on top of her, the touch of him making her feel pyhsically sick. He fumbled with his jeans with one hand and then a moment later she felt him enter her. She let out an involuntary cry and he grinned down at her, his face inches from hers. 'Like that bitch? Now I'm going to fuck you real well, then I'm going to pay you back for trying to claw my eyes out when I was fucking your mate.' He held up his blade so it was touching her face, the blade gleamed in the moonlight like some wicked living thing. 'I'm gonna cut you up so fucking bad you're gonna have to wear a mask when you fuck someone,' he hissed. 'Please don't,' Nikki whispered. 'Too late you fucking bit . . .' Nikki blinked in shock because she heard a vast roar right beside her, then her attacker's features instantly vanished leaving only moonlit sky where his face had been. The weight of his body was still on her, his cock still in her. There was a dull thump of something hitting the ground nearby, but Nikki barely registered it as her senses struggled to take in the sight of the bloody neck she now could see into. Instinct rather than thought made her push the headless corpse from her. She saw some vast doglike creature bolt towards the three youths who were taking in turns to rape Sylvia. Nikki watched her mouth agape as it slammed into one of the youths. He screamed then it seemed to reach into his stomach and rip out his guts in an explosion of blood. Simultaneously it reached with a long muscular arm, grabbing another youth lifting him up as if he were a rag doll. The snap of his neck was audible despite the screams of the mauled dying youth and the horrified cries of his friends. The sound broke Nikki's reverie and she turned and ran. There was no thought about her friend, only fear and the overwhelming instinct of self preservation. Nikki ran. Her feet barely registering the uneven ground she stumbled over, she headed towards the edge of the field a mass of darkness, trees and tangled hedges and only when she reached the relative shelter of the tree line did she pause for breath. She looked back, gasping for breath. She could make out the distant lights of the few cars that remained in the centre of the vast field but she couldn't make out any figures. The air felt chill now and she folded her arms over her breasts to try and keep warm. She was thinking what to do next when she heard the sound. A low guttural growl, like dog, no something bigger, more like a lion. The terrible realisation occurred that the beast -- whatever it was that had attacked - had followed her. Had somehow over taken her and was now with her here in the woods. Night of the Wolf Nikki knew she was going to die. Slowly she backed away from the darkness, back into the moonlit bathed field. She stopped as she saw it emerge from the darkness of the trees. It was massive, easily eight feet in height, broad-chested. It stood like a man but there the similarity ended, the rest was pure animal. Thick dark long hair covered its muscular body, its head was that of a wolf. As it advanced a low growling issued from deep in its throat. Nikki stood stock still as it towered above her. She closed her eyes and hoped there would no pain. Nothing happened. Long seconds passed, the heavy sound of the creature's breathing loud in her ears. Its breath warm on her face, the smell of fur filling her nostils. Slowly, as though waking from a dream, Nikki opened her eyes. She took a sharp intake of breath as she saw before her a familiar object. The moon medallion. She had seen it earlier, the one on the silver necklace around the big shy giant of a man. She touched it with her finger tips, and began to realise what it signified. No longer afraid, she looked up into the dark eyes of the creature. 'You're not gonna hurt me are you big fella?' she said. There was only the guttural breathing of the creature in response but somehow she knew it understood. Nikki stepped close to it resting her cheek against its broad chest. Its heart beat loudly in Nikki's ear. She reached her arms around pressing herself tightly to the creatures great form. 'You saved me, tonight didn't you?' She felt strong fingers stroke her head, and she was gradually aware something was pressing into her stomach just under her breasts. She pulled away and smiled as she realised what it was. 'My you are a big boy,' she said, reaching to take the werewolf's huge cock in her hands. It was big long and heavy, and dark skinned like a black man's. She held it in one hand and with the other hand reached to the base finding large potent testicles, each almost the size of a tennis ball. A low purring came from deep in its throat. 'Like that huh?' Nikki said caressing its testicles gently. She bent, and lifted its erection so her mouth and tongue could find its balls. She licked carefully and slowly over their whole area , lathering them with her saliva. The werewolf's sharp talon fingers raked her face gently as she ministered her oral attention to its heavy balls. Thick drops of come dribbled onto her cheek, and she moved upwards so her tongue lapped up the discharge that ran down the length of its dark shaft. Her mouth found the huge bulbous head of its cock, too big to fit in her mouth, so she used her tongue, lips and face to rub against the slickness of its pre come hard surface. It gave a throaty growl of pleasure, and as Nikki felt the vast appendage stiffen in her hands - she knew it was coming. She pressed her mouth to its meatus as it ejaculated a vast volcano of come. Nikki gulped as such as she could but more of the warm sticky substance splashed her face drenching her and pouring down to flow in rivulets between her big breasts. She looked up into its dark eyes. Her hands still around its cock, she realized its erection was still potent. The werewolf gave what Nikki took to be an affectionate growl then she felt herself being lifted up with its great powerful hands. It held her for a moment, face to face, its dark eyes boring into hers -- communicating its desire then lowered her again. Nikki lifted her feet and wrapped them around its girth as it impaled her on its huge cock. Nikki gasped as its swollen head pushed inside filling her completely, then slowly she slid further down taking more and more of its thick shaft inside her. The werewolf cupped her bottom in one great hairy hand and lifted her up and down so it could thoroughly fuck her. Nikki's head was thrown back in ecstasy as her first orgasm took her. Her body shook. 'Please. A rest,' she begged -- the pleasure was too much. The beast either did not understand or chose to ignore her. It moved her faster up and down its great shaft, its breath like hot fire on her face. Nikki dug her heels in tight to its flanks and screamed out, shaking her head as a second orgasm wracked her body. Her limbs fell limp like a rag doll, but still the werewolf continued to fuck her. 'Too, much, please, no more,' she whimpered, biting her lower lip and burying its face in the matt of thick hair on its chest. Faster the werewolf took her, growling as it built up to its own orgasm and stirred Nikki's body to produce a third. Deeper it thrust into the girl, Niki felt she would die, but did not care. Faster, deeper, harder. Nikki screamed as she came again only this time her scream was drowned out by the werewolf's roar as it too came, pumping a thick copious amount of seed into her body. Nikki felt she would burst. Mercifully, the werewolf slid Nikki's limp body off its spent organ and laid her tenderly on the grass. The werewolf's come, glistening white in the silver moonlight poured in a steady trickle out from Nikki's overfilled ravished pussy, coating her inner thighs in sticky liquid. Nikki did not mind. She curled up on the grass, exhausted. The werewolf lay beside her, taking her into its great arms, like a small child and nestling her against its warm hairy chest. Lulled by the steady sound of its heartbeat Nikki drifted off to sleep. She awoke cold and alone. Her senses tried to catch up with her mind. Had she dreamed it all? She stood shakily to her feet. In the distance in the field she could see the parked cars still there. They had been joined by others, though with familiar distinctive markings - police cars. She could see police men bustling around the scene. None had seen her yet, as she was too far from them. Had last night been a dream? Had she been hallucinating - unwittingly under the influence of drugs perhaps? What other explanation was there she mused. One thing was sure, her body was a mass of aches and pains. Something caught her attention by her feet. Nikki smiled. 'Fuck me,' PC Jenkins breathed as he took in the sight of the big breasted nude woman strolling towards the crime scene in the middle of the field. Despite the morning chill she was naked as the day she was born. He alerted his colleagues and there was a flurry of activity as they looked around for a blanket to cover up the woman. There was none but a detective kindly lent his overcoat. Jenkins wrapped her in it and took her to a nearby police van. It was only as she stooped to get inside that Jenkins noticed a medallion of sorts hanging from a silver chain around her neck, It looked a bit like a moon. He opened his mouth to comment on it, but then thought better of it, for there were far more important things to do that morning. Night of the Worm The doorbell rang, as Melissa knew it would, just as she stepped into the shower, her fingers on the temperature dial. It was almost as if they had some camera in her house allowing them to choose the most inappropriate and intrusive second to bother her. For a moment, just a moment, Melissa hesitated. She could ignore them, as most people did. But why should she? It was her house -- they had intruded on her life. Fuck them. Melissa felt the familiar cold sensation of indignant rage surge through her at the perennial intrusion on her life on this date each year. She had always hated Halloween with its stupid traditions; pumpkins, fireworks, trick or treat. And like every other seasonal festival today it now had a consumerist emphasis, dishing out sweets to grubby unappreciative brats. God, weren't there enough obese children in the world? Every year it got worse as every shop in the country sought to drive up its profit margin selling Halloween crap to kids of all ages, with not a thought for the millions of people who had endure the intrusion of brats in fancy dress demanding sweets or money whatever they thought they deserved to intimidate out of their victims. No mention in news items or the press of all the people who hated this night, no mention of elderly people being intimated in their own homes by gangs of brats to whom Halloween was merely another way of extorting money out of every person who made the mistake of answering the door on 31st of October. Well, Melissa was not going to be a victim any more. It was time to fight back. It was time to pay back every cheeky little bastard who'd called her names when she'd given them a piece of her mind, payback for the yobs who graffitied her front door last year on 1st November - She should have expected something like that though, given that she'd spent Halloween throwing a bucket of water over every little costumed scumbag who'd rung her bell that night. Well, fuck them and fuck their parents who threatened legal action, and fuck the police who told her they were investigating a number of complaints from outraged parents -- if parents didn't want children to get hypothermia they shouldn't let their little bastards out to pester people in their own homes minding their own business. Melissa was not going to back down. This year she had a 'treat' for the scumbags. The doorbell rang again, shrill and insistent, as Melissa descended the stairs, protectively hugging the towel to her. She wished for a moment she was dressed to confront them, but she pushed that notion from her mind, for wasn't that another victory for them? Dictating your behaviour down to your decision whether to have a shower or not. Melissa wasn't going to concede anything to them. She swung the door open, to reveal in the hallway light three small figures garbed in Halloween costumes. Two were girls, faces painted a sickly hue of green, bodies swathed in black cloaks, heads adorning pointed wide brimmed witches' hats. The smaller figure, Melissa guessed was a boy as he wore a more conventional ghost outfit with a cheap looking but repulsive skull mask covering his face. Each of them held small plastic buckets that resembled pumpkins, containing a mixture of sweets and fruit extorted from people they'd already pestered before reaching Melissa's house. Melissa noted the girls were smiling in anticipation. 'Yes?' Melissa snapped, coldly. The smile on the eldest girls face wavered, uncertainty replacing friendliness in her eyes. 'Happy Halloween. Trick or treat,' she said, causing the other two to echo the sentiment, uttered with little enthusiasm under Melissa's withering gaze. Melissa said nothing, enjoying the awkward sensation that settled on the three bothersome intruders. Clearly they expected their victim to smile say something nice and hand over money or sweets -- wrong fucking house, dears -- wrong fucking victim. God, it was cold Melissa thought. She hoped the little bastards all got frost bite. 'Yes?' Melissa repeated, savouring the confusion on the two girls' faces. The girls looked at one another as if for support. The smaller girl tugged her fellow witch's sleeve in a 'c'mon let's go' motion. But the taller girl turned back to Melissa. 'Trick or treat?' she repeated, smiling, a last try. 'What's your trick?' Melissa challenged. The bigger witch said nothing to this, clearly it was a question that she hadn't been asked or had expected to be asked, and certainly had no answer prepared given her befuddled expression. Standing in the street a little way off, Melissa noticed a woman in a warm coat - the brat's mother, Melissa supposed. The woman's head was cocked slightly as if picking up that something had gone wrong with her children's trick or treat exchange. Well, fuck her, the cow. 'Let's just go, Katy,' the smaller witch whined. The elder sister - for from their similar long blonde hair, Melissa guessed they were siblings - held her defiant gaze, but clearly was having a hard time conjuring words to express her hostility. Melissa gave her an unfriendly smile. 'Going to cast a spell on me, you little witch?' The girl opened her mouth to protest, but it was little boy, oblivious of the air of tension and conflict, who stepped forward and in a small voice repeated the night's simple mantra; 'Trick or treat?' 'How cute,' Melissa said, the words inflected with undisguised venom and contempt. 'Don't speak my brother like that, you cow!' the eldest girl snapped, pulling her the boy away from the door. Defeated, the trio turned to retreat down the pathway. 'Wait!' Melissa called. They stopped in their tracks. Faces turned toward her in expectation and uncertainty. 'I do have something for you.' Melissa said, reaching for some small white paper bags she'd kept by the front door. The three children hesitated then held out their treat buckets. 'Here's your treats,' Melissa said, dropping a bag into each of their buckets. The small bags bulged with their contents and were folded over at the tops. 'Thank you,' the smaller witch said. Melissa noticed the little boy eagerly opening his bag. He pulled it open, small fingers poised to dive in -- then the motion froze as he saw what was in the bag. The younger of the witches was opening her bag when the paper tore and the bag's contents spilled into her sweet filled bucket eliciting a stark scream from her. The bucket dropped to the ground as if the handle had suddenly become white hot. The eldest girl realising now what was in her bag, threw it from the bucket and pulled the small boy, who was still scrutinised the contents, away. The three brats beat a hasty retreat now, one of the girls crying, and Melissa smiled, closing the door before their enraged mother could intervene. But before the door clicked shut she noted her treat in the bucket left on the ground, as the slugs and worms she'd filled the bags with, squirmed and slithered over the brightly coloured - and now to be uneaten - sweets in the Halloween bucket. Victory was sweet, Melissa thought, as she headed for her shower. The confrontation, one sided though it was, put a spring in Melissa's step, and she took the stairs two at a time, dropping her towel outside the bathroom. She stepped into the shower half expecting the doorbell to ring, and part of her hoped it would -- the mother of the crying brats waiting outside Melissa's door to give her hell. Well, she could wait, and freeze, and when she sulked off, brats in tow, that would be one more victory for Melissa. But the doorbell didn't ring. Melissa showered, the hot revitalising water and scented shower gel a welcome cure from the chill she'd endured with the front door open. She washed her hair then killed the flow from the showerhead. In the silence she cocked her head listening for any knock at the door, for there were bound to be more little brats trying their luck at her house, and she had plenty more bags of slimy, wriggling things to put in the greedy outreached hands and Halloween buckets. Silence from downstairs. She stepped from the shower dried and went into her bedroom where she pulled on her cream coloured dressing gown. Turning out her bedroom light she went to the window and peeled back the curtains just enough to reveal the illuminated street below. She spotted a gaggle of costumed children making their way in the direction of her house. Melissa smiled, anticipating another confrontation. But then, just as they reached the path leading to her door, a figure stepped from the shadows. There was a brief exchange, then the children moved on past Melissa's house. The figure moved back out of sight, a thick hedge obscuring Melissa's view, but there was something familiar about the figure, then Melissa realized, it was the mother of the brats. She must have sent her kids home and stayed to warn off other children. Cow. Spoilsport. Bitch. Fuck her - fuck them all. Melissa pulled back her duvet, shrugged off her dressing gown and slid into bed, bitter at the premature end of her evening's war with trick-or-treaters. Now what? She tried to console herself with the thought that while she was snug in bed that cow would be out there freezing her tits off. As the welcome cocoon of her bed warmed her, Melissa's idle hand drifted down between her thighs, she ran fingers through her soft mound of pubic hair, then further down, her fingertips brushed against her soft moist cleft, the sensation stirring arousal, her sex growing wet. She slid her fingers downward, caressing the outer lips of her labia, teasing herself momentarily before allowing deeper access. She widened her thighs and shivered in anticipation of her own touch. The tip of her index finger was wet as she began to insert it slowly, her other hand gliding over the mounds of her breasts, her nipples hard and perk demanding attention from her hands. She gave a gasp as she fingered deep inside her soaking slick lips, needing the sensation of something thicker inside her. Melissa reached for the small bedside table just within reach, pulling a drawer open. Her hand searched inside until she made contact with the accessory she needed. She took the small purple vibrator, twisted the top to activate it and plunged down between her thighs to replace her fingers. The gentle buzzing was muted as the slick walls of her vagina enveloped it. The sudden sensation caused her to raise her hips momentarily upwards as though raised to meet a lover's passionate thrusts. She moaned in delight as the vibrator electrified her senses. She drew it towards her clitoris gasping as the humming phallic toy touched her sensitive nub. It was then that she heard the sound from downstairs. It was a small but familiar sound, but not one she ever heard this late in the evening. It was the sound of letterbox flap as someone pushed something through the door. Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck! Melissa withdrew the vibrator and swung her legs out of bed. Some prick had doubtless put something unpleasant through her letterbox. She cursed herself, suddenly remembering she had forgot to put newspaper by the front door. If the unimaginative bastards had put dog excrement through the door she'd have to spend the next half an hour cleaning the carpet. As she descended the stairs her eyes fixed on the base of the front door expecting to see something small, vile, dark and oblong shaped. She was relieved when she saw it wasn't dog's shit that lay on the carpet. Instead it was a small white box, similar in size to a matchbox but longer. Reaching the front door she knelt, but didn't pick it up. She still expected something unpleasant from the object. It had no words or markings on it and looked as though it might be handmade. Like a matchbox it consisted of a drawer covered in a card sleeve. Rather than pick it up, Melissa hurried back up stairs to see if she could still spot whoever had delivered it. She peeled back the curtain a little in her darkened bedroom, her eyes searching the space near her front door and the path leading to it. No one was there, and she realised she should have looked before going downstairs. Then, just as she was about to close the curtains she spotted the figure. Across the road standing in the shadow of a parked van was the woman Melissa had seen earlier, or at least that was who she guessed it to be for it was difficult to make out the figure in the dark. The figure was standing stock still and Melissa had the sudden unpleasant sensation she was being watched. A chill sensation crept down her spine and she hurriedly released the curtain so it closed. Bitch, Melissa thought. Fuck her, if the gutless cow wanted to freeze her tits off watch the house she was more than welcome. But Melissa knew the thoughts were bravado for she couldn't shrug off the uneasy feeling that edged her mind. Just what had that bitch put through her door? Melissa returned downstairs this time gingerly picking up the small white box. It felt light, empty almost. She gave it a little shake and felt something shift inside. She put it to her nose sniffing cautiously, but there was no smell, no pungent odour of excrement, no smell at all to indicate what the contents might be. She took a deep breath, chiding herself for feeling nervous as her fingers touched the drawer of the box. Fuck it, whatever it was couldn't be all that bad, could it? Melissa pushed open the box. She almost laughed when she saw what lay within. It was a worm. Not one of the things she'd put in her trick or treat bags, for this specimen was thicker and longer - but nonetheless only a worm. She looked at it as it coiled in the box reacting to the sudden influx of light. She smiled at the pathetic attempt by the woman outside to freak her out. She closed the box, went to the kitchen and discarded it in a plastic rubbish bag hanging from a kitchen unit drawer. The uneasy feeling she had was banished and she strutted back upstairs. She was going to finish getting herself off, then go to sleep. Back in bed, under the welcoming duvet and naked, Melissa parted her legs and turned on the vibrator, she pressed it down between her legs but found her she was now not in the mood, the image of the worm in the white box curling and moving kept replaying in her head. It was like a jingle or chorus of a song that kept repeating -- an irritating mental itch. Melissa, giving up on the attempt at masturbation, turned on her side to try and go to sleep. Still the image of the worm persisted in her mind's eye, squirming and writhing in the confines of the small box. Fuck! Melissa threw back the duvet, and climbed out of bed, not bothering to put on her dressing gown, she flicked on the landing light and went down the stairs. She'd kill the bloody thing and flush it down the toilet, perhaps then she could get some sleep. She strode into the dark kitchen and looked into the rubbish bag - and froze. The box was there, but it was open, just a little, maybe two centimetres. She reached in and pulled it out. Empty. She was sure she'd closed the bloody thing properly. A worm wouldn't be strong enough to open it, would it? No, a ridiculous notion -- she mustn't have closed it properly. She flicked on the kitchen light knowing she'd have to find the damn thing before she could get some sleep. In the bright spotlights of the kitchen she was more conscious of her nakedness, she briefly contemplated going to get her dressing gown, then decided it would be just quicker to find the worm and dispose of it now. She scanned the kitchen floor for the errant thing but there was no sign of it. Cursing under her breath she knelt on the floor, the hard linoleum uncomfortable on her bare knees. She looked under her kitchen table and chairs but frustratingly there was no sign of the thing. She gave a gasp of exasperation and rescanned the whole floor surface, then actually got under the kitchen table, pulling out the chairs until she was sure the worm was not there. She stood, hands on hips, surveying the kitchen work top, even though was not sure worms could climb. They weren't like slugs and snails, with a slimy suction base on their body, so just where the fuck had it got to? Had it left the kitchen? Melissa was just about to begin searching her hallway when she noticed a kitchen cupboard door that was ajar. She smiled, pleased that she found its likely hiding place, though the eight inch base of the cupboard should still have been practically impossible for the worm to overcome. Melissa took a knife from its holder on the kitchen surface, resolving to cut the damn thing in two for giving her the run around. Thus armed, she pulled open the cupboard automatically scanning the upper shelves at her eye line before realising the worm would have to be on the bottom shelf. She got down on her hunkers. In the shadows she could see an assortment of tinned food, soups, tinned tomatoes, peaches in syrup and jars of sauces. She began to push them aside when a movement from the back of the cupboard caught her eye. 'Gotcha,' Melissa grinned, pulling the tins and jars aside. Then she screamed and dropped the knife. The coiled wormlike creature, for no worm could be this big, was more the size of a snake than the specimen that had been in the box. It uncoiled, pushing jars and tins aside and moved silently towards Melissa. Melissa, her eyes wide with shock and terror, backed away, then turned and ran to the bottom of the stairs. Safely out of its immediate reach she stopped looking back at the kitchen, the vast thing was slithering from the cupboard and to Melissa's horror purposively moving towards her. There was no time to consider how such a thing had got into her house, but among her panicked thoughts the realisation that the bitch who put the white box with the worm had put this larger monster through the letterbox after Melissa had gone back upstairs, but it must have moved fast, for Melissa had not been upstairs long. With a shriek of fear, Melissa darted up the stairs, pausing at the top to look down. From her angle she could not make out much of the hallway, and she set her eyes fearfully on the space at the bottom of the stairs. It couldn't follow her could it? Weren't worms blind? It couldn't know where she was -- and just what the fuck was it? Maybe some species from some hot climate -- perhaps something from a rainforest -- were insects and other horrible things grew to monstrous sizes. Melissa put a hand to her mouth to stifle her cry, as the head of the worm-thing appeared by the bottom stair post. Its head was raised as if it was smelling the air -- or sensing where Melissa was. Melissa didn't dare move -- the slightest sound or movement might attract it. Then, after an agonising pause, it turned its head in her direction, then slowly more of the creature's pinkish blue body wriggled into view as it began to climb the stairs its thick body contracting and stretching to give it motion. Melissa whimpered, incapable of movement, hoping it would stop and turn back. It seemed to be even bigger now as if growing vaster every second. As it reached the fourth stair, Melissa screamed and bolted for her bedroom. She slammed it shut, leaning on the door as if the thing might reach the other side instantaneously and try forcing it open. She flicked on her bedroom light searching the room for something she could use as weapon then remembered her mobile on the bedside table. She scrambled for it frantically thinking which of her friends lived nearest, or if should she call the emergency services instead? She jabbed a finger to turn on the Blackberry, but there was no response, the screen remained dark and lifeless. She jabbed again at it. No, no, no! She'd charged the fucking thing today, it couldn't be dead. She glanced nervously at the door. Was the thing outside? Could it somehow get through the door? Melissa threw the useless phone down and grabbed the end of her bed pushing it against the door. She tried to clear the panic from her mind and think straight. Her whole body was shaking with fear. Night of the Worm She went to window, pulling the curtains aside, and tried to open it. The handle was a simple thing, a release button should allow it to swing open, but although she could press it, the window would not open. 'Oh Jesus fucking Christ,' Melissa cursed, her mind nearly flooded with fear and mounting panic. She looked out the window pressing her face close to the glass to negate the reflective effect of the bedroom light. Down below on her pathway, was the now familiar form of the woman, who had been with the children earlier, then directing others away from Melissa's house. This close to the house and from the light from her bedroom, Melissa could see the woman clearly. She wore a long tan coat, her hair was thick long and dark. Her round face was inclined towards Melissa's. She was smiling. 'Please help,' Melissa cried, still wrestling ineffectively with the window catch. She banged on the thick double glazed windows with her free hand oblivious that she still naked -- all that mattered was to get out of the house. The woman below did not move, but Melissa noticed her smile had widened. 'You fucking bitch. You did this didn't you?' Melissa screamed. She turned away from the window as she heard the door judder in its frame. The thing was trying to get in. There was no thump, but the door was clearly being shaken in some way, then it occurred to Melissa what was happening. She fell to the floor and looked under the bed, screaming in horror as she saw the snake like thing squeezing under the door, regaining its vast diameter as it passed through the small gap. Melissa jumped on the bed as though the floor was suddenly electrified. There was an audible pop as the bedroom light blew, plunging the bedroom into near darkness, only the sour yellow streetlight from outside illuminating the terrible nightmare Melissa found herself in. She screamed. It was a scream to wake the dead - a scream that made her throat raw from the effort - a scream that could not fail to attract attention from anyone within earshot. Melissa drew another deep breath to fuel another scream of utter terror. The third scream though, died in her throat for the huge bloated pink worm was crawling and wriggling up over the bottom of the bed. Melissa shrank away from it pushing herself back against the corner of the room where the wall met the door, only now the door was made useless by the bed that blocked it. Melissa had trapped herself, and was now cornered and helpless. She drew her legs up, her knees touching her breasts, instinctively making herself as small as possible. Her hand brushed something hard under the duvet, it was the small vibrator. Melissa hurled it, sobbing as it glanced off the wrinkled thick skin of the monster. It moved to her, coiling around her legs, slithering up her torso. She tried to push it away, but its surface was slimy and wet with some sort of secretion, and the thing moved over and around her body at will. Screaming, she lashed out, her limbs becoming surrounded by the coils of the thing's body. She was like some doomed animal in the coils of boa constrictor -the more she struggled the tighter the coils became around her and she felt the thing also encircle her neck making it difficult to breathe. Its slimy wrinkled body felt repulsive against her bare skin. Tears streamed down her cheeks as Melissa waited for it to kill her. She was aware of a mewling sound and dimly realised the sound was coming from her. Something was pressing and probing between her thighs. Despite the worm-thing's coils around her legs she managed to clamp her thighs shut, refusing entry. Instantly the coils around her neck tightened choking the breath from her. She eased her thighs and the thing responded by slackening its deadly constricting grip on her throat. She knew now what it wanted. Again she felt it press forward between her legs - this time she didn't resist. Whether it was its head or tail she could not tell, for her view was severely restricted, but it now pressed forward inside her, its slick slimy skin making it easy to penetrate her. She whimpered in horror and disgust at her violation by the thing, her mind now at the very edge of sanity. Still it plunged and pushed itself inside her. She could feel her abdomen tighten with pressure as it forced the mass of its vile body inside her, pushing her inner organs aside to fit more of itself inside. Melissa, in a state of hysteria, was now mouthing the Lord's prayer, words that had not passed her lips since her childhood. The slimy coils around her neck and limbs began to recede as the thing fed more of itself inside her body, swelling her abdomen with its bulging form. As the last of its vile body pushed inside her, Melissa tried to grab its remaining length before it disappeared inside. Her hands slipped off the slick surface of it as it wriggled and shoved itself inside her, and with a despairing sob, Melissa gave up. Her breathing was shallow, and now that the thing was completely inside her, she propped herself up weakly on her elbow. Her skin was chill as the air cooled the slimy mucus like substance the creature has left where it had clung to her. She looked like a woman in her final days of pregnancy; her stomach swollen and bloated. Inside she could feel it move and wriggle the sensation making her feel nauseous. With tremendous effort she managed to climb from the bed, every movement causing the thing inside her squirm within. Half sitting, half lying she retched then vomited. She pulled the bed from the door and lifted herself up. She knew what she had to do. Stumbling and crawling, tears blinding her vision, she made her way slowly downstairs, leaning on the walls, her legs weak, her own body, with its repugnant contents, felt alien to her. The worm-thing squirmed and wriggled inside her as she got closer to the kitchen as though sensing her intention. Somehow, it might have been minutes or hours, Melissa reached the kitchen, collapsing on the floor. She had to get thing out of her. She found the knife lying where she had dropped it by the cupboard. She had to the thing out of her. She grasped the handle firmly and plunged the knife into her belly cutting downwards several inches. Her whole body quaked as she shoved her hands inside the wound, fingers finding the slippery coils of the thing, she pulled them and they spilled out of her in a bloody slippery mess. It was out. She smiled as she slid down to lay on her side. Blood loss already making her drowsy, she lay her head on the cool linoleum flooring. The air stank of the coppery smell of her blood. It was over. Some dim awareness filtered through her mind as she looked her intestines strewn beside her in a steaming pool of blood, and before blackness swamped her dying mind she thought she heard the letterbox flap snap open, and a woman's voice whispering something: 'Happy Halloween . . .'