3 comments/ 13679 views/ 5 favorites October 31, 10:06 AM By: YDB95 He hated Halloween anyway. Just as well that he had to work that day, although the flashy dancers on the subway to the office didn't help; but he was used to putting a stop to those desires whenever they bubbled up. With the trip to work over, so was that particular crisis, and with any luck, so was his worrying about Halloween. No need to worry about handing out candy, no costume parties to agonize over, and most of all, no risk of reliving the fantasies his mother had taken such pleasure in punishing him over. Those were an issue all year long, of course, with the consequences ranging from the mildly humiliating ("Leave your penis alone, dear") to the outrageous punishments he managed to no longer dwell on. But it was those few days in October, when women traipsed about dressed as witches and nurses and princesses and ballerinas, which had always brought out the nastiest of thoughts. They had also carried the worst risk of getting caught, since he'd gone at it rather more often then, with all that temptation. He could still feel the sting on his buttocks and thighs if he thought too long about it all, which fortunately he rarely did. Even now that he was a man, living safely on his own where he could cope with the guilt on his own terms on those occasions when he couldn't resist, the nasty memories were enough to make him break out in a cold sweat on a bad day. But today, in his button-down office with the ladies all in professional businesswear, would not be a bad day. It would just be another day. The fire bell rang just after ten o'clock, clanging just a bit faster than it had last week, and the hammer went crashing through the window as they all filed down the stairway. Joe-Bob, the bouncer from the club downstairs, was looking tired but alert as he herded them all out to the sidewalk, where the gang of jazz dancers he'd seen before were still prancing noisily up the way while he and his officemates cooled their heels in the October sunshine. The women in their leotards had nearly driven his blood pressure through the roof the first time, and once again he felt the unwanted titillation even as he couldn't tear his eyes away. Perhaps the sight could inoculate him for the remainder of Halloween, and he'd make it through without any further guilt. Or so he thought. "Fall in!" came the voice of old Coach Jamison for the first time since eighth grade gym class, and he wondered where on earth that could have come from. But when he looked around there was only Joe-Bob directing everyone into two lines to go back inside. Dutifully he got in the queue and waited. Joe-Bob opened the door, and the two lines started to move -- then came to an abrupt stop. "Hold it, everyone!" came a cheerful female voice from behind him -- Sally from Accounting. "I'm naked! It's best you let a vulnerable lady go first!" His head whipped around, and sure enough, Sally was striding up the walk between the two lines. She was smiling, confident, and clothed from the waist up in her usual blouse and sweater while her leather pumps clicked smartly against the cement. But she wore no pants or panties, and her bush was as readily visible as her face. It was trimmed but lush, just as well-groomed as Sally always looked fully clothed. He gaped shamelessly as Sally climbed up the steps and walked casually inside. Just as the lines were about to move, he heard it again, this time in a different voice -- Carol from provider credentials. "Hold it, everyone! I'm naked! It's best you let a vulnerable lady go first!" Like Sally before her, Carol was only partially naked -- the same part -- and he gawked in amazement as she strode by without a care in the world. Her bush was smaller and blonder than Sally's, and her face was just as lacking in embarrassment at her unorthodox state of undress. Sally and Carol opened the door together and meandered in side by side, laughing together from the looks of it, their naked white buttocks shameless in the bright October sun. The bizarre sight had an odd ring of familiarity to it -- where had he heard that line about vulnerable ladies before? -- but there was no time to ponder that matter. Before he knew just what had transpired, he felt himself borne forcefully off the ground. "Enjoying the show, pal?!" came Coach Jamison's voice, accompanied by Joe-Bob's harsh grip. "You don't respect the ladies' privacy, let's just give you a front row seat, huh?" "But, I...!" He tried to protest but the words wouldn't form, as it occurred to him now that he didn't even understand what he'd just seen. A horrible sense of guilt washed over him; he had somehow violated the ladies' privacy even if they had sauntered right past him with their pants off, and somehow he knew he deserved whatever pummeling Joe-Bob was now going to inflict upon him. Or if it was Coach Jamison's voice, maybe it would be his mother's hands thrashing him? No one else looked up from the queue, and his arms and legs were flailing uselessly as Joe-Bob had him off the ground. Then he found himself sailing through the broken window as if he were light as a doll. He held out both arms to cushion the blow and wondered if there might at least be another glimpse of Carol and Sally's bushes and behinds. Maybe they would come to his rescue, even? Then it wouldn't be so bad for him to look at them. But on crossing the threshold he found he wasn't in the office at all, nor did he land face-first as he had anticipated. Rather he floated harmlessly down into a waiting chair in the storeroom at his old elementary school, also remembered for the band practices where he had played the saxophone decades before. Instinctively he imagined himself a child again, but on feeling himself up and down -- and struggling to fit into the little chair -- he realized he was still very much the adult he had been minutes before. The room, though, was just as he remembered it. Whatever year it was, evidently it was still Halloween, for the paper ghosts and goblins and witches adorned nearly every inch of the wall and the doorways were hung with cotton that was pulled apart to resemble spider webs. The sun was shining through the grungy windows along the ceiling just as it always had way back when, and for once the light was on in the supply closet behind the room, strictly off-limits to the kids with the never-used shower that he and his friends had always wondered about. With an awful stab of guilt, he recalled many late afternoons imagining his favorite teachers getting caught out in that very shower, usually by him. How horribly guilty he had always felt after getting off on that image... As he gathered his wits about him, he realized the never-used shower was in fact being used now, and slowly a middle-aged woman's body came into focus. Mrs. LeBrun, the prim and grim school librarian who had scowled so at every overdue book and every child speaking above a whisper, now naked and wet and soapy and grinning at him. "Oh, don't mind me," she told him as he stood up and was acutely aware of his pants bulging at the sight. "I'm just having a shower. Of course, you're welcome to join me. Also, Happy Halloween and welcome home!" He wasn't sure how he'd recognized her, for her grayish hair was down instead of wrapped up in the tight bun she had usually worn, and it clung to her head and bare shoulders, and in the steamy water it seemed a few shades darker, and she was smiling instead of scowling, and it had been all those years...but it was definitely Mrs. LeBrun. Her heavy breasts hung down well onto her plump belly and her bush grew wild and dark, yet he was somehow wonderfully attracted to her. But it wasn't right to gawk at her body while he stood there fully clothed, after all. He remembered his manners and turned away. "I shouldn't --" "Nonsense!" she insisted, and with a sopping wet hand she reached out and grabbed his tie, pulling him under the spray with her. "I'm delighted to have your company, dear! You know you always wanted this, and so naturally I'm pleased to share it with you. You look like you could use a bit of fun just now, actually. That's usually why guys like you get sent here on Halloween, after all." Before he could protest further, she had clasped both his hands in hers and placed them on her breasts. "You know you always wanted to play with these," she admonished him. "And it's been far too long since anyone has, too. Please, don't be shy." "How did you know?" Still fully clothed in the hot water, he'd stopped trying to make any sense of the situation. Instead, strangely devoid of his usual guilt in the unlikely surroundings, he enjoyed tickling her nipples. How he had imagined that so many years before! Her breasts felt supple and soft, belying their evident age, and she clearly enjoyed his caresses even more than he did. "A woman can tell, my dear," she said. "Now then..." She undid his belt buckle and unzipped his pants, and his hard cock burst out as if it were on springs. But he had scarcely felt her hand taking its grip when a sensation of fluidity washed upward from his soaked shoes to his legs, midsection and all the way out to his fingertips. Last of all he felt his face liquefying. He said it out loud as he realized it: "I'm melting. Into the drain!" "Don't be absurd," she teased him. "Didn't Mister Rogers tell you, you can never go down the drain?" "But I aaaammmmmmmm!" He felt his voice growing from a whisper to a shriek as he felt his entire being slither into the tiny hole in the floor, Mrs. LeBrun's hungry grin the final thing he saw before everything went dark for five seconds or so. The light returned in slits below him at first and then he felt himself crashing through a grid of some sort, and coming to rest with a plop on a couch in a swanky hotel room. He was filthy, but after a moment to regain his wits he realized he was unharmed. "You could use a bath, couldn't you?" He looked up to see Rachel from college standing over him, her fiery red hair cut shorter but still unmistakably her. He was ever so slightly surprised to observe that she was fully clothed, in a beautiful floral print dress and white stockings. But then again, he had never dared imagine Rachel less than fully clothed. She had always been too pure and pleasant for all that. "R-Rachel?" he asked, though he was certain it was her. "What's it been, ten years? Twelve?" "It doesn't matter how long it's been, besides the answer would only confuse you," she said. "I'm glad you made it, though. When I saw your name on the manifest, I was thrilled, but a little uncertain you'd actually show up. Kind of flattered, too, to know you thought of me the way you did. The safe fantasy, huh? But you need to get over that, and I have a feeling you will, soon." "What manifest? What the hell is going on?" No need to ask why she didn't trust him; that much he remembered all too clearly from back in the day. "It's probably best that you don't ask any questions for now," she said. "I find it's better when people learn it as they go along, especially men." She stepped back and pointed toward the bathroom, and for the first time she smiled at him. "Now, as I was saying, you definitely need a bath. I can turn my back or leave the room if you wish, but I must confess I'd love to watch you undress if that's okay." "If it's okay?!" Years before, Rachel had thrilled him to the core by asking him to dance at the end-of-term ball, but she had always seemed much too chaste for him to imagine anything heavier than that nice waltz they had shared. Maybe that was why he had such lovely memories of her -- they were pure, never sexual, unsullied by naughtiness...maybe until now! "Well, of course it is. I mean, fair's fair, but..." "But what? I can leave if you would prefer that." But Rachel made no effort to hide her disappointment at that suggestion. "No! I mean, if you want to watch me undress, that sounds kind of hot, really. It's just that I thought women...didn't care for that sort of thing." Rachel sighed and shook her head. "And that's exactly why you're here. You think we don't admire your bodies like you do ours? That we don't get turned on? That we're all anything like your mother was? You need this more than I thought you did! Now, as I said, I don't wish to make you uncomfortable." "You won't, as long as I know you do want to watch me," he allowed, standing up and struggling not to wince with the squish of his wet and filthy clothes clinging to his skin. "It's funny," he said as he set about untying his tie, "I've had this fantasy countless times -- I try not to, but it always comes back -- only I was the one watching the woman undress -- I mean not necessarily you, but a woman anyway -- and for some reason she never seemed to mind that I was just sitting there fully clothed and admiring her. If that turns you on half as much as it did me, then I don't mind at all." He had his tie off and was eagerly fumbling with the buttons on his shirt now. "I was right, then," she said. "You not only need this more than I thought, you're going to be perfect for it. No wonder they sent you on Halloween. That's when you get the strongest dosage, after all." "I sure wish I knew what 'this' was," he said, opening his shirt and welcoming her lusty gaze at his bare chest, which was mostly clean with the filthy shirt now on the floor. Though Rachel did not answer him, she smiled appreciatively as she sat on the bed and spread her skirt out endearingly on both sides with her legs crossed. She demurely rocked her left leg over her right as she drank in the sight of his slowly-emerging body, a racy look in her eyes that made him feel at turns dirty and delighted and both. There was no need to ask her if she wanted him to continue, besides the fresh air on his bare, damp skin felt wonderful compared to his dank pants and boxers hanging limply from his waist. So he pulled off his belt -- still undone as Mrs. LeBrun had left it -- and unbuttoned his pants, and even allowed for a flirtatious sashay as he pushed them down and kicked off his soaked shoes along with them. He was harder than ever beneath his boxers, but it only seemed right to save them for last, so he peeled off his socks and tossed them in the farthest corner of the room, drawing a laugh and a bit of applause from Rachel. Reaching down to push off his boxers, he noticed his cock was standing out at attention through the slit, pointing straight at Rachel. It seemed rather larger than usual, but he suspected he was flattering himself. He laughed at the unexpected revelation, and seeing it was okay, she joined him. "Somebody's happy to be seen," he said. "And I'm happy to see it," Rachel said, though she remained seated on the bed. With a flair of knowing he was being admired, he pulled his boxers down and gave them a brazen kick that sent them flying over Rachel and over toward the bureau, on which they landed with a plop. Rachel rubbed her hands and nodded. "Beautiful. You men should give yourselves more credit for how lovely your bodies can be." "Thank you," he said. "But are you ever going to tell me what's going on?" "Asked and answered," she reminded him. "Now, bath time." At last she stood up and pointed him toward the bathroom, where the light was on. Giving up on learning anything new, he walked to the bathroom, where he found the tub already full of soapy water. "You were expecting me, then," he said. "I was hoping for you, anyway," she allowed. "Would you like me to wash your back?" "I think I'd like that at least as much as you would," he agreed. Gingerly he stepped into the piping hot water and slid down, allowing for a bit of a squeal when his cock and balls went under. Rachel giggled a bit at that, and he didn't complain -- he was just as amused by certain vagaries of the female body, after all. Whatever was going on, a bath was better than the office! Rachel produced a washcloth out of somewhere, and rubbed his back with a firm but gentle touch. She seemed to enjoy every moment of the pleasant labor. "Every woman should have a chance to do this," she cooed as she scrubbed him. "And you do this for a living now, do you?" he asked. "Everything you are wondering now will be answered later," Rachel assured him. "Including what you're probably hoping for right now." "That you'll join me?" he asked, with a hopeful look. "That's right," she teased, reaching around now to fondle his chest. "But you're not getting an answer to that or anything else just yet, because the answers depend on how you handle what follows." "What about what came before, then? I mean, Mrs. LeBrun in the shower?" "I don't know who Mrs. LeBrun is," Rachel said. "I'm guessing maybe an elementary school teacher of yours?" "Close," he admitted. "Librarian from back then." "Typical," she said. "You probably don't even remember fantasizing about her." "Oh, I do now that I've seen her in the shower!" Rachel laughed. "That makes sense. It does take a strong first dose with most guys. And that earliest fantasy is about as strong as it gets, because it's usually pretty whacked out from an adult point of view, even if it's just something really innocent, like just seeing someone nude. Usually it involves costumes, though, since it's Halloween. But it sounds like you preferred nudity. Nothing wrong with that, but I'm a bit surprised." "Wait, so this has to do with Halloween?" he demanded. "Am I Scrooge meeting the ghost of Halloween past or something?" "A bit like that," Rachel said reluctantly. Then, more firmly, "No more questions! But I think you're getting the right idea. Guys like you usually do at this time of year. With people already dressing up as so many frightening things -- witches, ghosts, Dick Cheney -- all the costumes stir up nasty memories for guys like you. Including librarians, I guess; that could explain Mrs. LeBrun. I never heard of a librarian costume, though. But it makes sense, with that whole prude-with-the-sex-kitten-within fantasy. In any case, that way you can imagine you're someone else so much more easily than usual." "Then there are others like me in this weird warp," he mused, careful not to phrase it as a question. "We're hard at work on guys all over the world this week," Rachel confirmed. "A lot in Detroit!" "What you got against Detroit?" he asked, forgetting the no-questions rule. Wordlessly, Rachel stood up and then bent over the tub, reaching in. She pulled the plug out of the tub, and stood back. "I'll be seeing you again shortly, I hope," she said, and before he could respond he once again felt the sensation of sliding into the drain. This time he knew better than to fight it or be afraid of it, though the matter of his nudity did cause some concern. One blinding flash of light later, he found himself clean and safe and still naked and standing in the locker room at his college. After a moment's further reflection, he realized it wasn't quite the locker room he recalled. Though similar, it was laid out backwards, with the changing area to the left of the lockers instead of the right, and the toilets were too far off to the side. And no urinals. No urinals?! In a flash of awareness, he realized he was standing naked in the middle of the women's locker room, and in that same moment he heard the door open -- no choice but to hide in a locker for the moment, and in he dove. Gaping silently through the slits in the locker, he wasn't really surprised to see Becky and Dawn sauntering in. They were older now -- college age, appropriately -- but it was still unmistakably them. And that could only mean one thing...the test. The one he'd set for himself so many times, to put a stop to the self-abuse that always got him in so much trouble. Ladle out the femininity as thick as it could get, but keep your hands pinned safely beneath you on the mattress...and sometimes he'd passed the test, but often he hadn't. Now that they were undressing together before his very eyes, he was all too sure he could never pass the test. He felt the blood rushing to his cock again as if it were jumpstarted, in spite of the fear and embarrassment. October 31, 10:06 AM "I'm so glad we've got the pool to ourselves today," Becky said, her dark hair thicker and curlier even than he remembered. "It's perfect for a nice long swim before the Halloween party, isn't it?" He remembered the ladies-only swim -- it had always inspired all sorts of guilt-inducing fantasies back in the day -- but the Halloween party was new to him. "Oh, I know!" Dawn, a bit taller and thinner and fairer-haired than Becky, agreed. "I feel so much more like I can really be myself out there in the pool without any dirty men in there! So, are you still going to be a dancer for Halloween?" "Well, thinking about it," Becky said, "But now that you mention it, I'm not sure how I feel about the guys seeing me dressed like that." "I think it sounds like a kick, going around in just tights," Dawn said. "Just imagine you're wearing a skirt and don't look down, and you'll be fine. Besides, why shouldn't we be free to show off our beautiful bodies?" "Why don't we both do it then?" Becky suggested. "Moral support!" "That does sound kind of fun," said Dawn. With a mild giggle she unbuttoned her skirt...and from there everything returned to the script he had mapped out in his head all those years before. Including Becky following suit and the two friends admiring each other in their panties and tights. "It would be kind of a kick going out like this, wouldn't it?" Becky asked, turning to admire herself in the mirror on the far wall. Maybe if he imagined the conversation taking an unsexy turn now? He tried to imagine anything but what had come next in his imagination. It was no use; tearing his eyes away from Becky and Dawn for a moment, he realized to his mortification that he was not only hard, he seemed to be growing. His throbbing member was expanding like a balloon, bulging against the locker door. And it was only going to get worse; he knew that too well now that he knew the occasion. They shared a girly laugh and a hug, and then Becky peeled her blouse away, drawing the same reaction from Dawn that he had imagined a hundred times. "That's a nice bra, Becky." "Thanks!" Becky said, undoing it just as he had always imagined and peeling it away to reveal red lines on her breasts where they had bulged out against the fabric. "But you can see, it's too small. I didn't think I'd still be growing when I hit twenty, but here I am! Guess I'm going to need a D-cup pretty soon." "So full and round," Dawn said with admiration, reaching out to caress her friend, who reacted only with a welcoming sigh. "Must be a drag lugging these around all day, Becky, but they sure are beautiful." "Oh, it's not so bad," Becky said. "Worth it for how lovely they make me feel, and when I get in the water out there naked, the cool water on my breasts? It's a wonderful feeling! Now let's set yours free, too, shall we?" She drew Dawn's top off and Dawn obligingly reached back and removed her bra. "I wonder if guys ever admire each other in their locker room like this?" she asked coyly. "Probably not, huh?" "And it's their loss, isn't it?" Becky said as they both removed their tights and panties. She admired her friend's body openly. "God, you're beautiful, Dawn." "You too, my dear," Dawn replied, and they hugged. Inside the locker, he was desperately trying to tamp down his arousal, but it was no use. The telltale cock was only getting harder and longer, and he wondered how he even had any blood left in the rest of his body. The old nightmarish guilt washed over him yet again, but even that didn't reduce the swelling. Becky and Dawn were not to be deterred from stirring up his arousal even further. Dawn ran her fingers through her ladygarden. "Such a relief to not have to worry about hiding this in a swimsuit!" she said. "And even more so for you, huh?" she asked, noting that Becky's bush was larger and thicker. "Oh, I know!" Becky said. "Sploosh!" she exclaimed, cupping both hands around her pubic area and drawing them outward. "It seems bigger every time I go swimming!" "Isn't it wonderfully erotic to look down and see a triangle, though?" Dawn asked. "God, I love that feeling!" "Oh, I know!" Becky agreed. "It feels so dignified to be all grown up, doesn't it?" They were both naked and still enjoying one another's company when the door from the pool swung open. It couldn't be Mrs. McDonough now that Becky and Dawn were adults, could it? It was, and since it was ladies-only swim, she was nude as well. He felt himself getting lightheaded as his gigantic erection only plumped up further at the sight of his long-ago English teacher wearing nothing but a smile. She looked nearly seven feet tall now, her breasts approaching the size of cantaloupes yet standing out straight without a bra, her bush as full and majestic as ever as befit her dark curly mane that had not aged a day over the years. "Becky and Dawn! Hello. Out for a swim?" "Hi, Mrs. McDonough," the younger women said in unison. "Enjoying ladies' day?" "It is ever so liberating, isn't it?" the teacher agreed. "Just the way it ought to be, women able to enjoy one another's company completely without any distractions! My, I see the two of you have blossomed as well. You look beautiful." Truer word was never spoken, and though he was struggling not to pass out, he did enjoy the view. "No one should have to wear a swimsuit, don't you think, especially when we're this beautiful?" she continued. "Oh, I feel beautiful in a swimsuit," Becky said. "I enjoy being a woman and looking so elegant. But I feel so free without one!" That line, coupled with the image of Mrs. McDonough's majestic body, had always been his downfall before. Once again now, against his best efforts he felt a rippling spasm that burst the locker right off its hinges. Becky and Dawn gawked in unison at the huge erection that flopped out into the open now, and then squealed in embarrassment and rushed off to hide in the showers. But Mrs. McDonough did not look fazed or embarrassed in the least. Meeting his mortified eyes as he stepped sheepishly out of the locker, struggling to hold his enormous erection off the ground, she said, "Well, I see Dawn and Becky aren't the only of my old students who have grown up!" "I'm...so sorry!" he stammered. "I don't even know how I got in here, and then they came in..." "I'm not complaining, am I?" she admonished him, placing her hands on her hips as if to invite him to admire her bush. "Becky and Dawn may not appreciate it, but you always were one of us." "Who is 'us', Mrs. McDonough? I'm confused. Some really weird things have been happening, including this" -- he gripped his overripe dick in both hands -- "And I'm not making any sense of it all." "Perhaps you just need to relax and enjoy it, then," Mrs. McDonough advised. "I could certainly enjoy that if you could get it down to a more manageable size, you know." "I wish I knew how," he grunted, struggling to keep it off the floor with both hands, though it occurred to him that maybe he really didn't need to. There wasn't much chance of it going down with her standing there nude before him anyway. "It's all in your mind, of course," Mrs. McDonough said. "Just embrace your desire and stop feeling so ashamed of it. We all had to learn that sometime, and this is yours." As if to lead the way, she slid her right hand off her hip and into her bush, rubbing in tight circles and inhaling deeply. "No one should be ashamed of such beauty," she whispered to him. "You know that, don't you?" The wonderful sight before him did relax him -- even as it transfixed him -- and he felt himself retracting slowly to a more manageable size. Feeling unabashed about it for the first time, he slid his hand up and down it just as he had been so good at doing -- against his sense of guilt -- for so long. He looked back up at Mrs. McDonough, who was still masturbating. "Doesn't that feel better?" she asked him with a gentle smile. His mind was racing with ideas as to just how much better it did feel, and maybe how they could bring Dawn and Becky into it as well, when the hallway door swung upon. "Heavens!" he gasped. Mrs. McDonough looked nervously towards the sound, and somehow he knew the new arrival would not be open-minded like she was. Only one option remained: he could always go down the drain again. Ignoring his ex-teacher's desperate warning against it, he burst out into the pool area as fast as he could, his erection now even more oversized than before and whipping back and forth between his thighs. The sensation would have been a guilty pleasure at any other time; now it was only a matter of guilt. His guilt got a lot more intense when the surroundings out in the pool registered with him. All at once he realized what Mrs. McDonough and the girls had been talking about: it was female-only hours at the pool, and all the swimmers were just as naked as he was. As he dove into the pool and lunged for the bottom, he was aware of women scurrying every which way to cover up or hide; the hapless ones who were actually in the pool could do little but recoil in disgust at his invasion. No matter! The drain, and then I'll be gone anyway!" He pushed himself downward as hard and fast as he could, heading straight for the drain and only vaguely aware of the outraged shrieks up on the surface. He would disappear as quickly as he appeared and none of this would matter... Thunk! The now-familiar sensation did not come, and his forehead smarted as he realized he had simply bounced off the drain. Should he try again? There was no time to do so, as he felt himself borne upward by a firm feminine touch on his legs, and a moment later on his shoulders as well. Emerging with a splash, he found himself thrown into a deck chair and restrained by half a dozen women, not a stitch of clothing among them. Though terrified and humiliated, he realized to his further horror that his oversized erection was only growing. How, he had to wonder, did that even happen? "So what have you got to say for yourself?" demanded a slim middle aged woman with an air of being in charge. She was tall and stern looking, with a short businesslike hairdo that always made him imagine a woman had no nude under her clothes. As she was naked, he now saw that was wrong; a small but stern thatch of pubic hair gaped menacingly at his huge cock. "I...I didn't know." He was barely able to croak out even that. "You didn't know," repeated a younger redhead who was proving to be beautiful when she was angry. "You come bursting out of the women's locker room naked in the middle of Ladies Only afternoon, and you don't even know why?!" "I know you'll never believe it," he said, "But that's exactly right. Something bizarre happened to me this morning and I'm still trying to make sense of it." "I'm trying to make sense of some things myself," the redhead said in a rather more conciliatory tone, as she was now admiring his massive cock. "It does seem a shame that we wouldn't get a chance to see this, don't you think, ladies?" Her friends looked on with a mixture of amazement and repulsion and morbid curiosity, and he could think of nothing to add. "I'm...I'm pretty surprised with that myself," he admitted, drawing laughs from several of his admirers. Of a sudden he found his humiliation subsiding in favor of a sort of titillation -- he was a hostage on display, but he couldn't deny the fun in the looks he was getting, not to mention all the gorgeous breasts and bushes that one by one his captors were no longer bothering to hide. Somewhere deep within, a sense of assertiveness sprang forth, and he sat up a bit straighter in the chair without trying to elude the grasp of his captors. "Or maybe this is my Halloween trick, didn't any of you think of that?" "Can you show my boyfriend this trick?" one of the women asked, drawing guffaws all around. He was aware of his member shrinking somewhat, but it was still quite oversized. "You don't really want that, do you?" asked another. "I think I'd split in half!" "Mmm, I'd have to agree," spoke up the older woman who had first accosted him. "I think Mrs. McDonough is probably the only one who could fit that inside her." "Could she?" He couldn't hide his delight, now free of the usual accompany guilt for the first time -- and forgetting for the moment that she had already said it was too big for her. Amidst the laughter from the other women, the redhead took his cock in both hands. "Oh, so you're another one of her ex-students who has issues with lusting after her," she said. "That explains a lot." "Does it explain this?" he asked, gesturing down at her hands, which were now pleasuring him gently. Given his enormity, her touch was more teasing than satisfying, but he enjoyed it nonetheless. "It's a measure of how repressed you've been all your life," she said. "And you, sir, were obviously very repressed! I hope you like the show as long as you're here with us, too. It looks like you do. I guess I should have known; we do see them in here every Halloween. It's a great time of year to cut loose, after all. But most of them have the decency not to crash Ladies' Hour." "I didn't know it was Ladies' Hour!" he insisted. "Maybe you needed that extra twist," she offered. "An extra strong dose of femininity to splash into. It does kind of tickle some of us to have you here, after all." "Tickle is a good idea!" announced one of the younger women who had been holding him down. The redhead appeared to agree, for while retaining her affectionate squeeze on his hardness, she lifted it up to give the younger woman easier access. Soon she was tickling mercilessly up and down the underside of his shaft, which was just as sensitive as ever and now offered a lot more room for stroking and tickling. His humiliation now gone, he was soon squealing with delight at her teasing fingers, which were promptly joined by several more pairs while the redhead was busy teasing his thoroughly engorged tip with her tongue. She had no chance of fitting it in her mouth; but her tongue all about it was a nice if slight sensation. With several others now caressing, rubbing and tickling him all over his swollen cock, he was a helpless lump of pleasure, feeling as though a low-grade orgasm was washing over him to stay indefinitely. Amidst the wonderful naughtiness, he kept a longing eye out for Mrs. McDonough, hoping they would have the chance to find out if she could indeed fit him in, but there was no sign that she had ever come out of the locker room. He was enjoying all the touching and tickling and teasing so much that he was scarcely aware of the noise at first when the hammer came crashing through the window once again. As if on cue, a few blissful moments later he felt the women taking his arms and legs firmly in their hands and soon he was sailing up and through the broken window. A lovely whirlwind flash later, he found himself hurtling through the air above the city that petered out into suburban tracts laid out neatly below him, then into the multicolored splendor of the late autumn countryside. Out past the woods and in the hilly prairie, he found himself descending at last over a clutch of red brick chimneys all jutting from beneath the grassy earth. As if fired through a sniper's gun, he found himself heading directly, squarely and unstoppably towards one of them. Totally unable to alter his flight path in any way, he straightened up as flat as he could and braced for a painful landing, yet somehow he knew he would whoosh down the chimney without a scratch just as he had done in the drain. Sure enough, the passage through the chimney was but a momentary blitz of darkness, followed by a bizarre but not painful sensation as he bounced off the hearth inside and landed, unhurt and clean, on the couch in a tiny living room. Imperfectly shaped as if it were carved out of a hole in the ground, which he quickly remembered it was, the room was awash in warm light from a single table lamp; and it opened into a slightly larger room with a dining room table that was now covered in bottles of ink and glue and glitter and messy stacks of clothing. A round window beyond looked out onto a bucolic scene of hill and dale and other half-hidden homes. "I'm in a hobbit hole," he muttered in disbelief, standing up gingerly. "I wish you would stop calling it that," came Nicole's voice from just down the hall. "It's just a movie, and so what if our place looks a bit like that?" She emerged into the dining room, her long blonde hair now cut short and her lithe figure a bit more filled out than....when? When had he known Nicole? He couldn't recall, but it was definitely her. "Now, let's make our masks already. It's only a couple of hours until the party and I know you don't want to go to the wank club without a costume." "The wank club?!" he responded. Nicole turned and gripped him by the shoulders. "Don't you back out on me now! We agreed, we both wanted to give the place a try and it was nothing to be ashamed of, and Halloween was the perfect time to do it since we'd be in costume and no one needs to know it's us! Mind you, I would be fine without the costume, but you're too shy for that." Her face softened then. "Of course, I've always found that endearing in you. It's why we've been friends for so long." "We have...of course we have," he corrected himself quickly. "And yeah, I have always wanted to try the wank club." Then a horrifying thought occurred to him...although he didn't know just what the wank club was, that name made it sound like his girth on his last stop could be a big problem. Instinctively his hands flew to the front of his pants, and he was relieved to see he had apparently retracted to normal. Nicole laughed. "Not that again! Whatever it looks like, it's nothing to be ashamed of, I told you." "Of course not," he agreed, now sensing that at least that much was normal -- for now." "And I have my insecurities, too, you know," she said. "I mean, I've told you before, I have a big vulva. But it's mine, and I'm not ashamed." She patted the crotch of her white jeans affectionately. "And don't think I don't know you've always been curious about just how big it is. Tonight you'll finally find out!" With a wicked grin, she turned her attention back to the art supplies on the table. "Now, here's your mask. Let's paint them." She handed him a plain white eye-mask, and he assessed the options on the table before him. Quickly deciding on an array of brightly colored stripes, he began painting diagonally across the mask in a perverse rainbow. He'd gotten a third of the way across with pink, green, yellow and sky blue when Nicole took notice of his pattern. She burst into laughs. "You want to have all the gay guys in the club hitting on you, do you?" "Nah," he said with a knowing grin, though he wasn't really sure of anything. "Any of them get too close, I'll just let you flash your big lips at them and they'll run off screaming." Nicole laughed harder, to his relief. "Cute," she admitted. "But why the rainbow if you're not going for the gay look?" "Taking back a man's right to embrace bright colors no matter which way he swings," he said. He wasn't sure where the answer had come from but he liked it. Something had finally snapped at him as far as shame was concerned, anyway. Nicole looked at him endearingly. "God, we could be so good together if you hadn't been so uptight all these years. Where has that beautiful attitude been all this time?" "Good question," he admitted. And, to his mild surprise, Nicole did not pursue the matter any further. Figuring he might as well milk the look for all it was worth, he added glitter and sequins to the mask. Once it was done and set aside to dry, Nicole, at her suggestion, swathed his lower face in all the rouge she could apply, promising it would clash deliciously with the mask. Then it was time to choose a top for each of them to wear. Nicole pulled out a wonderfully garish paisley pattern with a multicolored splash background. "I was thinking of wearing this one myself," she said, "but your mask is crying out for it, I think. Let's try it on you." October 31, 10:06 AM His usual shyness about his body now nearly gone in light of all he had been through since the fire drill, he unbuttoned his work shirt, pausing only for the briefest of moments to wonder how it had been cleaned and dried and repaired and put back on him after his ejection from the pool. It didn't matter. His shyness was nearly gone, but not quite, and he burst into childish laughter as he took it off. "Oh, don't be such a baby, we're best friends!" Nicole reminded him. When that didn't quash the last of his nervousness, she said, "Fine, I'll take my top off too, then we'll be even at least." True to her word, she stood back and pulled her sweater over her head, and stood unabashedly before him in her bra. "See? Nothing to be embarrassed about. Now turn around." He obeyed, and she slid the loud shirt onto his waiting arms and shoulders. It was as ruffly as it was colorful, he saw now, with handkerchief-style ripples of fabric dangling from the sleeves and feathered layers emanating from each side of the buttons and holes. He looked down and set about buttoning the shirt up, and turned around to see Nicole, still topless, admiring him in awe. "I can hardly wait to see what that looks like with the mask!" she said. Sensing the power that would have, he said, "Why don't we have a sneak preview?" He picked up the mask, now mostly dry, and carefully slid it on over his eyes. A bundle of joyful nonsensical colors now from head to waist, he stood before his friend, who was admiring him in silence. "That's going to be soooo hot tonight!" she gushed. "God, I think I need to get a jump on the festivities," she said, looking over her shoulder at her bedroom. "Hope that doesn't offend your tender sensibilities, but you are a sight for sore eyes!" The usual old unwelcome one-two punch of titillation followed immediately by crushing guilt shot through his mind as Nicole turned and headed for her bedroom. At long last, he tamped down the guilt and found his voice. "Mind if I watch?" he asked in a tone he hoped would indicate he didn't expect to be taken seriously. "You know I told you my bedroom is always open to you," Nicole said from inside. "But this time, you can only watch if you keep your costume on!" "It's a deal," he said, finding he enjoyed the new sensation of embracing his dirty thoughts without shame. Wondering just how long he and Nicole had been friends in this dimension -- not to mention how many times they may have talked about her big vulva -- he felt butterflies in his stomach as he sauntered down the hall. But he was sure they were beautiful butterflies all the same. Nicole's room was cozy and quaint like the rest of their house, and the smoldering remains of a fire were keeping the space warm from the fireplace. Nicole was just sliding her pants and panties off when he appeared in the doorway, and with an ear-to-ear grin she lay spread-eagled on her back on the unmade bed. She was right, he saw now; her lips were full and thick and wonderfully prominent against her sparse blonde pubic hair. And they were clearly moist to her touch as she gazed at him and began rubbing herself. "Well, what do you think?" she teased huskily, her breathing pleasantly heavy already. "Beautiful," was all he could say, and it was true. There was no chance of turning his eyes away from her pussy or giving in to his old guilt this time. "Thank you!" she said. "And my offer is still open...just not now, because I'm having too much fun looking at you in that getup just now! Who knew you were ever so flaming underneath it all?!" 'Underneath it all' was just where his mind was now being steered as he watched Nicole play with herself. It was growing again, the warm hardness now confined inside his pants reaching well down his right leg, not as enormous as before but still embarrassingly huge. What had the ladies back at the pool said about size and shame? Maybe he was making progress! But the sensation was still horribly awkward as he stood there and wondered if Nicole somehow knew. But then, wouldn't she be pleased to know she could have that effect on him? "Hey," she exclaimed as her breathing grew more intense. "Just how much does this turn you on anyway?" She was nearly naked; fair was fair. He undid his pants and pulled them down, his massive bulge still entangled in them so that he nearly lost his balance freeing it. When he did, it bounced out to attention and Nicole's eyes bulged at the remarkable sight. "Oh my god...how do you walk?!" "I don't, when it's like this," he admitted. "It's not always..." "Heavens no!" he said. "It's just, watching you, and overcoming some issues at the same time." "Oh good!" Nicole grunted. "I mean, I'm impressed, but I could never fit that in, I know!" "When we make love, you won't have to," he said. It sounded so wonderfully endearing! But just then it sounded perfect, trite or not. Nicole, her eyes glued to his still-large erection of shame, brought herself off in seconds more. A gloriously satisfying shriek later, she lay back and ran her fingers through her hair. "Whew! That was beautiful. Thanks. And I'm so glad for you that it's not usually that unwieldy!" "You and me both," he allowed with a chuckle, thinking he should probably pull his pants back up...but he didn't yet, nor did Nicole make any effort to cover her own beautifully prominent charms. "Remember the big-wiener song we used to sing?" she asked him with a smile, propping herself up on a pillow. She burst into girlish laughter, and he joined her as somehow the words he didn't recall ever hearing before did in fact come to mind just in time and they sang it together. My wiener got big! I said, my hot dog got big! I broke the lamp, I broke the bedpost, I had to pay for it, but then...unghhh! "Where did we come up with that?" he asked as soon as they had stopped laughing. "No idea," Nicole said. "Must have just been one of those silly ideas you get when you're very young. Remember, that was back when we used to refer to 'my' wiener, too!" She patted her pussy endearingly as she said it. On that note, a vague recollection of his friendship with Nicole roared through his mind, accompanied by some crazy ranting from his mother about how he was too old to play with girls and they were no good...but he put it from his mind. Whatever had happened so deep in the past, what lay before him now was so very preferable. And on that happy note, he found himself still hard but not overgrown. They did get their clothes on again in time to depart for the wank club. Since he had no idea where it was, he suggested Nicole drive when she tried to hand him the car keys. "Wow, you are in a different mood tonight, aren't you!" she said appreciatively when he did. "I hope this means many more changes on the way!" Their car was a snazzy sport coupe, the same shade of red he recalled from his childhood neighbors' driveway, and as they roared through the streets of their village and back into the city he saw snapshots of barely-remembered suburban and city blocks from hometowns long past roaring by, each one more idyllic than the last. From his earliest memories up through college and beyond, favorite blocks and houses and stores flew by, with no sign of their being miles and years apart. One constant: it was still Halloween, as there were jack-o-lanterns and orange and black decorations strewn everywhere and children trick-or-treating on every block. One group of kids crossed the street while they were stopped at a red light. "Remember the one year we went together?" Nicole asked, grinning through her mask and makeup. "Sure," he lied. "That was so much fun." "The one time your mother let you out from under her thumb," Nicole said. "It was so cute how free you acted just for those few hours." That threatened to bring back reality and kill the mood, so he looked out the window and focused on the rose-colored memories that were still there for the taking. By the time the light turned green, the crisis had passed. Nicole finally brought the car to a stop in the parking lot of the shopping center where his mother used to bring him grocery shopping. His beloved candy store was barely visible out on the far end of the strip, and of course it was doing a booming business for the holiday. But Nicole wasn't taking any notice of that. She locked the driver's side door and set off for the old abandoned warehouse at the other end of the strip. It wasn't abandoned tonight; the mostly-broken windows along the top of the building were not only repaired, they were bright with flashing colors now, and the whole building was vibrating with loud dance music. "This is gonna be so much fun!" Nicole gushed, grabbing his arm. "And sharing it with you as well!" The reception room was lined in red velvet, complete with orange and black streamers and pumpkin and witch cutouts for the holiday, and it was relatively quiet although the muffled sounds from the dancefloor were still audible. "Tickets please?" said the smiling woman behind the counter. "Nice costume," she added to him as Nicole handed her their tickets. "Okay, one female, one male, and your sizes are about..." she leaned over to look at their crotches. "You might need a bigger one than it looks for him," Nicole teased. "And for her too," he replied. "You see, she has a big --" "Shut!" Nicole exclaimed, holding up her hand, and now he recalled how she had always said that -- not shut up, but just shut -- when they were kids. But she was laughing by the time she lowered her hand. In the meantime, the desk attendant had returned with two odd looking pairs of shorts. "Here, try these," she said. "If either of you really is too well-endowed, we can adjust them or try a bigger pair." Nicole unbuttoned her jeans and pulled them down along with her panties, just as matter-of-factly as one would remove a coat, and handed them to the attendant. She then picked up the dark red panties from the counter and slid them on. The attendant looked shamelessly over the counter and saw what he had been referring to. "Yes, you are rather big down there," she concurred. "But those ought to fit you with no problem." "They do!" Nicole confirmed, sliding the waistband into place. He was now following her lead and removing his pants. For some reason -- nerves? -- he wasn't hard and his penis was back to normal size. "Looks like he won't have the problem I was worried about either," Nicole said. "Yep, I think those are the perfect size for him," the attendant agreed as he took the tight-looking undergarment and slipped both legs through the holes. When he pulled them up, the scoop-shaped front made him look more well-endowed than he felt at the moment, though still smaller than that afternoon. Both women looked on in admiration as he did, and he found he enjoyed the attention. Now that they were both dressed and their pants checked, the attendant said, "Okay, the switch and dial are on your right hip. Make sure you turn it off if you leave the dance floor, and we recommend you don't turn the intensity up too high until you've gotten used to it. Have fun!" With that she pointed to the door from which all the noise and light were bleeding, and Nicole took his hand and led him in. It was dark inside, but he could see people writhing every which way on the floor and the sexual tension was palpable. "Ready when you are!" Nicole said, though he could only read her lips rather than hearing her. She placed her hand on her right hip; he followed suit and felt the switch. "Let's go!" Nicole yelled. He flipped his switch. All at once he was awash down below in wonderful sensation. Fuller and steadier and more intense than the teasing he'd endured at the pool hours before, the magic undies had him writhing about in an urgent battle to stave off coming in public. Pleasant vibrations enveloped him and the stretchy material of his shorts put his renewed hardness on full display. Nicole saw it and was impressed, but there was no pointing and laughing as she was also enveloped in vibrations. She thrust her hips hungrily against his, and he eagerly returned the favor, his usual shame but a nasty memory for the moment. "Come on, let's dance!" she called out to him from inches away. "I'll come in no time if we just stand here!" He could feel that delicious tickle leading him to the point of no return as well, but following Nicole's lead, he found just enough of an outlet for the tension in dancing. Once he had found a comfort zone in motion and let himself simmer just below the point of orgasm, he remembered for the first time that everyone else on the floor was enjoying the same taboo pleasure. Awash in a sea of costumes from the waist up, he saw now that most of the fellow revelers were bare-legged under their vibrating undies just like he and Nicole were. A few had long costumes that covered them, but whether visible or not, everyone was wriggling in ecstatic struggle to hold off from a public orgasm. Off to his left, just beyond a group of women dressed as cats, he saw Becky and Dawn in their promised dancer costumes, their red panties clearly visible under their tights. They had their arms clasped about one another and were rubbing their desperate pussies together in shameless joy, laughing at their wonderful predicament. The girlfriends he had invented to test his own resolve to keep from masturbating in bed all those years before, now they had blown the door clean off his wild imagination...and looking down, he saw to his delight that although hard as a rock, he was normal-sized! Nicole had noticed it too, and was rubbing her hips hungrily against him as she pranced about before him, either indulging in the sensation or trying to escape the relentless intensity...he couldn't be sure, any more than he was sure of himself as he felt the constant threat of coming in his rented undies, and yet it never quite came to that. Maybe because he was dancing, maybe it was turned down just far enough, but although the stimulation kept him on edge throughout, he never quite went off the edge. It seemed Nicole was holding on by a similarly tiny margin before him as she danced so enticingly before him. Every now and then, of course, someone did come, notably a woman in a bathrobe and curlers who was enjoying the attention of three guys as she danced just behind him. Her moans gave into outright screams loud enough to be heard over the music, and he looked her way to see her sinking to the floor in joy while her three male companions applauded the show. Once her orgasm was past, she lost no time in getting back on her feet and continuing to dance -- after all, the sensation was relentless. Only one thought impeded his uninhibited pleasure, and for once it was not Mommie Dearest but rather the sound of the hammer crashing through the window. That would call an end to his time at the wank club, of course, and he was not ready for it to be over. Because of the loud music, he didn't hear the hammer. Rather, he only saw it floating incongruously but harmlessly to the floor just behind the gay guys over Nicole's shoulder. It occurred to him that maybe if he didn't look up and see the broken window, he could stay a while longer...but it occurred to him a bit too late. Once his eye made contact with the shattered window above, he was borne up helplessly above the crowd. There was just enough time to see Nicole was unaware of his disappearance before yet another flash of blinding light enveloped him, and the club vanished as if down the drain. He was in a worn-out, but well-fitting tuxedo with his tie undone, halfway between lying and sitting on a garish, uncomfortable sofa. The memory of the wank club had his loins still buzzing faintly, but that went away as he drank in the formal-looking setting before him. A living room, clean and well furnished but clearly rarely used, and he was alone. But not for long, as he heard a door open behind him. "Welcome home," came a crisp female voice in an elegant foreign accent. "I hope the trip has been a beneficial one for you." Without a formal introduction, she blossomed forth and stood before him, just beyond arm's length in front of the dark, cold fireplace. She wore a beautifully tailored white dress and boots, horn-rimmed glasses that seemed to magnify her brown eyes, and her black hair was combed back and in a tight bun. "I..." he stammered. "I mean...yes. It has been a great trip. But I wasn't ready to be done with the last stop, if you want to know the truth." "If the hammer came through the window, then it was indeed time for you to go," she corrected. "That is just how these things work, I am afraid." "I don't know about that," he said. "Nicole and I were just working our way up to a massive...well, you know." "I know only if you want me to know," she corrected. "After all, I am your ideal." "You're my what?" Her stern face broke into a grin and she allowed a mild, polite laugh. "Your ideal," she repeated. "The one acceptable image of your sexuality: a perfect, chaste woman -- at least while out of bed. But I am also what you must defeat if you want to ever have a healthy sexuality in this life, I'm afraid. Blame your mother if you like; you would not be wrong entirely, but at some point it is your responsibility to put such fears to bed. Pardon the expression." Rachel's numerous riddles came flooding back to him -- it all seemed so long ago now! "I don't suppose I'm allowed to ask you any questions either," he said. "Of course you are!" she corrected. "I am not Rachel." "Well, so I noticed," he said. "Pardon me, though, but who are you?" "I have no name. I told you, I am your ideal! And like all ideals, I am not real. That is what you must come to accept. Rachel is real, a real life woman with a real body and all the good and bad that comes with it, and which you were for so long encouraged to disdain. Instead, you envisioned me -- perfect, beautiful and not at all real." "So all that I've seen since this morning...none of it was real?" "On the contrary, all of it was real. Long-forgotten real-life moments that intrigued you in a way that made you feel horribly dirty at the time. An overheard conversation on intimate topics. An accidental glimpse under someone's skirt. A perfectly healthy young man's interest in these things, that you were instead taught to repulse and disgust you. Hence your shame, that comes to a head every Halloween when we are all so encouraged to embrace our evil for the day." "Now, wait a minute," he said. "I did not really see Sally and Carol with their pants off in public this morning!" "I cannot explain exactly what you saw," she said. "But I can tell you it was a manifestation of some memory, of an event you enjoyed in spite of yourself before your crippling shame took over. Perhaps a forgotten fling in college, when you were drunk. The thrill of seeing a woman's body was buried under the ugly messages from your mother once you sobered up. For example. I do not know; but that is not important. What matters is that your enjoyment of the sight is natural and to be embraced rather than rejected in the future." "I take it that means I must reject you?" He said it with real regret, for she was beautiful. "You must, in any event, accept that I am not a real woman," she said. On that note, she raised up first her right foot and then her left on a conveniently placed hassock, removing each boot as she did. Still lovely in her stocking feet, she then reached behind her and, without a twinge of reservation, untied her dress sash and drew it over her perfectly-coiffed head. The dress floated away as if carried on a perfectly balanced breeze, and seemed to vanish into thin air. Then one by one, she removed her stockings, revealing her long, luscious legs. Lithe and strong yet unmistakably feminine, they came together in layers of delicate lace that was all the clothing that remained on her body, as she had already removed her bra by the time his eyes made their way back up to hers. Losing no time, she slid her panties off as well. And there she stood before him, the ideal image of a perfect, beautiful woman before him. Dignified even as she stood naked before him, her breasts standing out on their own as if defying gravity, her triangle perfectly symmetric without a single hair out of place, she regarded him with a firm but not unpleasant smile. October 31, 10:06 AM He was hard, naturally, but not overgrown this time. "You certainly do look real to me," he said. "Then come," she said, opening her arms. As if in a dream, he half-walked, half-floated across the room to her waiting embrace. But as he arrived to hold her, his arms floated through her as if she weren't there. As indeed she wasn't. Confused for a moment, he poked at her body and waved his arms through where she so clearly stood. But she was a mirage. "Now do you believe I am not real?" "Of course," he said bitterly. "But what does it all mean?" "It means you should understand now that life is not perfect. Sex is not perfect. Women are not perfect. Your fantasies are not real, but what is real can be just as wonderful if you let it." "How do I do that?" "Don't give in to your shame," the apparition told him, still inches away and gloriously nude and not really there at all. "Embrace the beauty of reality and accept it for what it is. Including your darkest desires!" On that note, she whirled into a tornado of glittery dust and vanished into the ether. "Hey, wait!" he called after her. But she was gone in a cloud of fairy dust that floated down and sprinkled momentarily on his clothes before evaporating. He was alone in the well-lit parlor. After waiting in vain for the hammer in the window for a few harshly silent minutes, he thought to look for the door. It was behind the grand piano, and he walked silently across the room and opened it. Another living room, this one more contemporary and lived-in. He stepped into the center of the room and looked around. He could hear music playing in another room, loud enough to vibrate the walls. Another Halloween party, he thought to himself, and he looked around for another door to follow. But there was no other door. Finishing his full turn about the room, he found himself facing away from the door by which he had entered, just in time to hear it click shut behind him. He whirled around to see Sally and Carol, looking like they'd never looked at work. This time they were fully clothed, at least, in oddly alluring gypsy dresses -- frilly blouses and full, colorful skirts swishing every which way. Their hair was long and wild now, and he knew what that meant as far as what they'd look like naked... "Hello," they said in unison. "Uh, hi, ladies. Nice costumes. Do you know where she went?" "Away," Sally said, stepping towards him. "After all, nothing perfect is of this world. Now, are you ready?" "Ready for what?" "For what she told you. To embrace your darkest desires!" Sally licked her lips and took a step toward him. "Carol?" she said. On cue, Carol locked the door and dropped the key somewhere in the folds of her dress, and for good measure she stood spread-legged across the door, blocking his only exit should he somehow get around Sally. As she encroached upon him, he realized that was unlikely anyway. Sally -- demure, well-coiffed Sally from the office! -- was palpably ferocious in her desire as she padded barefoot across the room towards him in her hippie getup. "Remember what she told you," Sally cooed as she approached and he realized he was flat against the wall with no escape. "Embrace your darkest desires. Or else who knows what they'll do to you?" And in that moment, he knew he must do just that. The realization washed over him as Sally stood menacingly close, imposing and yet amorous, trapping him against the wall while offering only pleasure if he would only take it. She was smiling -- a friendly, open, loving smile as if she were ready to take him in her arms, with a barely concealed sense of doom should he not let her do that. "You know what you like," she cooed. "It's yours for the taking!" Remembering her giddy confidence while barebottom that morning, he reached out tentatively with both hands, certain at first of some consequence but receiving only an encouraging nod from Sally as both his hands disappeared in the folds of her skirt and grabbed at wads of fabric. He further expected to be struck down or smacked as he lifted the skirt, but once again there was only Sally's encouraging gaze. Gaining confidence, he pulled the hem up to reveal her triangular badge of womanhood. The well-groomed patch he'd spotted that morning was a distant memory; now it was thick and full like Mrs. McDonough's, dark like Becky's, and it betrayed a prominent set of lips like Nicole's. Sally was aroused for the occasion, and the pleasantly pungent smell wafted up to him. He looked back up expecting disapproval from Sally. But she was still smiling encouragingly -- and her body language still made it clear that he wasn't going anywhere. "Go ahead, touch it!" she prodded him. "This isn't your real pussy, is it?" he mumbled. "It is for now," she corrected him. "It's all you fear and all you lust after and all you've been afraid to embrace even as you desperately wanted to. And you're not going anywhere until you do embrace it." Still holding her skirt up in his left hand, his fingers reached gingerly toward the waiting treasure, fighting against the stern waves of shame that had so often washed over him before when he allowed his thoughts to stray to what was now waiting before him. He was relieved to feel the shame washing away -- and accordingly he felt himself growing no bigger than normal -- as he reached in and caressed Sally's vulva. It was as sensitive as it was large, and she moaned appreciatively as he ran his fingers up and down, and then ever so carefully inside. "Oh, that's lovely," she whispered. "You're a fast learner!" "Th...thank you." He was still a bit nervous as he listened to her husky feminine response to his fingers as they explored her soft inner flesh. She sounded as beautiful as she felt. He was speechless as he listened to her moans, and he felt triumphant as he realized he felt no shame. His fingers felt electrified as they slid in and out and Sally became more and more deliciously agitated. She wiggled about his touch and her knees buckled, and he could sense her responses growing more rhythmic and intense. In his fascination, he slowed down his stroking. "No!" she grunted. "Faster!" Her hand darted to his and pushed at his wrist, and he sped up his rubbing. "That's it!" she shrieked, and her moans grew louder and steadier as the big moment approached. "Don't stop!" she ordered, and he didn't. "Yes...yesss...ohhhhhhhh, god!" Just as her final climactic exultation was building in her throat, Sally burst into glittery smithereens that spread gracefully throughout the room, sending prisms of perversely cheerful light every which way. He looked down to see his fingers still wet with her juices, and his heart was racing. But Carol still stood looking stern in the doorway. He was feeling emboldened by his victory. "Have I got to do you now as well?" he asked, wondering what sort of pussy he could conjure for Carol. "Thanks for the offer, but you can't," she said. "Then what do I need to do for you to let me out of here?" "Who says you need to do anything?" Carol asked with a grin. "Clearly you don't understand. But then, that's so very common. So often times it happens that we live our lives in chains, and we never even know we have the key. But me?" "You're already gone, are you?" He laughed with relief as he leapt across the room and grabbed for the doorknob, though it was behind Carol's imposing body. Sure enough, his hand sailed through her as if she weren't there, which indeed she wasn't, and his fingers closed unstoppably on the knob. Nervously, hopefully, he turned the knob, only to find it had never been locked at all. He opened the door and stepped into the freedom of Rachel's hotel room. It was a rainy afternoon outside, in contrast to the sunny day outside the house he'd just escaped from and the late evening at the wank party. The light was low, warm and mellow inside, and Rachel was perched on an armchair by the window. She was wearing the same dress as that morning, but her smile was rather more welcoming than before. "You made it!" "I guess I did," he said with a shy grin. "Nice view, too," she added. His shyness grew considerably when he looked down to realize he was naked. "Aieee! I mean..." He broke into a grin. "Thanks. I'm glad you think so." "Oh, I know so," Rachel said. "And you handled yourself so very well out there. I was more than a little jealous of Sally there. But it looks like you're up for another round," she said, gesturing downward -- he was hard, but normal-sized once again. "No shame at last, huh?" "I guess not," he admitted. "Now are you going to tell me what it all means? Were Dawn and Becky real? Where did I know Nicole from? And all those situations?" "All perfectly normal," Rachel said. "Believe me, I've seen much weirder stuff. Especially on Halloween. Now I want to go to the wank club, actually." "Can't you go?" he asked. "Could we go?" "Only in your imagination," Rachel said. "That's where it all was. You just needed to come to terms with it all." He was disappointed, but he found he really wasn't surprised. "Does that mean this isn't real either?" he asked as Rachel slinked across the room and took him in her arms. "It's as real as you want it to be," Rachel reassured him. "After all, I'm a real woman, and you knew me when. You were a friend and a perfect gentleman, but deep down you wanted to make love to me. And now you can!" She undid the top button on her dress, and beckoned him to follow. He picked up where she had left off, and as he undid the buttons, she leaned in and kissed him hard on the mouth. He was just able to pull her dress down over her shoulders before she locked him in a fierce embrace which he returned eagerly. Their kiss was a long one. When it ended, he opened his eyes and was rewarded with the sight of her bare shoulders. Gloriously imperfect, freckled skin strapped with a plain beige bra, her body was real. Warm, feminine and real. After he had enjoyed his first glimpse of her body for a bit, their eyes met and they laughed comfortably. "Are you shy?" she asked. "I'm the one who's already naked," he reminded her. "And speaking of which," she said. With that she pushed her bunched-up dress down over her waist and hips. Imperfect but wonderfully real, her curvy, full-figured body nearly sang to him as he drank in the lovely sight. But she gave him only a few moments to admire her before she prodded him backwards onto the bed. Without another word, she hurried off her panties to reveal a lush, wild bush. "I was so very relieved to see what you liked in this department," she cooed, running her fingers through it. "Mmmm." It was all he had to say as he lay on his back admiring her, his hard cock pointing at the ceiling. Rachel reached back and unfastened her bra, commenting along the way that she hadn't had to do so herself in the presence of a guy in some time, and swung it off with the same spirit he had shown that morning. Leaving her stockings on for a wonderfully imperfect look, she climbed atop the bed and knelt over him, her breasts hanging naturally and enticingly as she straddled him. He had her left nipple in his mouth by the time she guided him inside, so his gasp of pleasure was muffled and her own was mixed with the sensation from his tongue. Once she had pushed him in as far as could reach, his head snapped back onto the pillow with a gulp of air. She rode him slowly at first, teasing as well with her fingertips up and down his chest, and he giggled in spite of himself, which only encouraged her all the more. "You like a bit of torture, then," she said. "I might have known!" Before he could answer with anything but a grin, she picked up her pace and was soon pushing harder and scratching him lightly instead of tickling. She was also moaning a great deal louder than Sally had, but that wonderful introduction had him over his shock and he was enjoying the sound greatly this time. A minute or so later, she was so wrapped up in her own sensation that she forgot about the scratching and clamped her hands down on his hips as she rode him into her first orgasm. "Gonna come!" she squealed, and promptly and loudly she did just that. He waited for her to vanish, like Sally had. She didn't. Instead she went right on humping him, now helping herself along with a hand on her clit. "You didn't disappear," he said. "And I won't," she explained huskily. "You will, when you come." "What?!" "You'll be cured completely then, no need to wait around this hotel room!" "But what about you?!" he said, feeling himself coming close to the precipice in spite of himself. "I've got my own sins to answer for," Rachel whispered between moans. "Nothing you need to worry about. Besides, it's a nice hotel, isn't it?" "So this is...purgatory?" "No questions! Just let yourself go, dear!" He didn't want to leave. He didn't want to be trapped in a hotel room, but he did want to be with Rachel, and he certainly didn't want this to be the only time he would ever make love to her...but then, she was in his past. She was his past, and now there was a whole new life to discover with his demons left behind. But for now... He didn't want it to end, but he couldn't resist the sheer joy of her body bouncing rhythmically up and down upon his, the sensation of her holding him in her tender moist grip, and the sense of a long-realized dream upon him at last. As she worked herself into a second orgasm, he could feel his own coming just a step ahead of hers. He tried holding his breath to stave it off, but it was no use. With a carefree yelp he felt it wash over him...and the inevitable flash of light followed without a word of farewell from Rachel, who was by then lost in the throes of her own orgasm; her joyous screeches were the last thing he heard before the staid background noises of his office took over. He gripped at his desk with both hands as he caught his bearings, fearing for a moment that he was falling before he realized he was safely back in his chair. "Whooh," he said, realizing a moment too late that he'd said it out loud. "You okay there?" came a very familiar voice behind him. He managed to remain calm as he swiveled his chair around to find Sally looking down at him. She was fully dressed, conservatively as ever in a long skirt and a blazer, but she looked happy to see him. "Yeah," he said absentmindedly. "Yes, I'm fine. Sorry! Just that was an interesting fire drill." "We got back in an hour ago!" Sally said. "You need some more coffee?" "Maybe I do, yeah," he said. He got up and headed for the coffee machine, Sally strolling alongside him. "I guess so. Say, since I've already got you thinking I'm a little crazy, maybe I can ask you. Did anything weird happen on the fire drill?" Sally shook her head. "Not unless you count all the people in their Halloween costumes out there. Just your average interruption. My only complaint is we didn't have the time to get our coats. I was telling Carol, in the wind out there without coats, we both felt naked!" He looked up in surprise and sloshed a bit of hot coffee on his hand. "Ow!" Then, getting control of himself again, he forced a smile. "Well, that woke me up!" "I'm glad to hear it," Sally said, looking down at his hand. "I hope you didn't burn it too badly. Say, what are you doing for Halloween?" "Sad to say I didn't make any plans," he confessed. "But listen, I was thinking of asking you anyway, if you're free tonight, would you like to do something?" "Oh, gee, I've been invited to a Halloween party," Sally said. "But if you'd like to be my date, that'd be lovely. I've got a great costume, actually. I'm going to be a gypsy."