All Hallowed�s Eve
� Copyright 2001 by Bram
Ransey
Warning: This story contains content of a sexual nature which may be
unsuitable for children, minors, and majors suffering from moral righteousness.
It may also be illegal for you to read depending upon your community standards,
majority status, and local laws. If any of the above applies, read no further,
go elsewhere. If you are a minor, the
following material may cause you to think beyond the small box your elders are
trying to keep you in. This is dangerous. Since this material is corrupting when
found on the Internet, I suggest you go to your local library and check out The
Ninja by Eric Lustbader. His story is nothing like mine, but it has good sex
scenes, and it's surprisingly easy to obtain. I found this out when I was cursed
with being-too-young-to-think.
Notice: This story, while containing sex, is not a "wham, bam, what
was your name?" kind of story. It develops slowly, perhaps painfully so. If
you find yourself thinking, "Why don't they just drop this bullshit and
screw?"I propose you find another tale, because this one will irritate the
hell out of you.
The unfinished story below is copywrited by Bram
Ransey , 2001. It may not be distributed nor altered in any way
without express written consent of the author. For those not living in a
litigious society, this means an OK letter with my valid, legal signature on
it.
Comments: That said, I hope you enjoy my efforts. And kindly make time to
send constructive comments or just tell me
that you liked it.
Part 1
I
Halloween. My favorite holiday. The time when the spirit world is closest to this one. When the demons, goblins, and nightmares run free, at their most powerful against pious humans. Until the midnight strikes heralding the coming of saints to save us from damnation.
Until midnight, prophecies, divination, and communing with spirits were their most effective on this night. Adolescent girls of early America would divine their future husbands and when they would marry. This was the one night when even a good Christian girl could engage in minor witchcraft.
And here I sit, casting coins for the I-Ching. I�m not interested in love, just guidance. As I cast, I draw the hexagram the coins define. K�un, the Receptive (yielding, submission). �If he tries to lead, he goes astray; but if he follows, he finds guidance�Quiet perseverance brings good fortune.� So this is how I�m supposed to act in order to have a favorable outcome. Sometimes I think fate conspires against me. Stacy would love this, she�s been telling me to go out and immerse myself in the party. Maybe I�ll forget my pain for a little while.
Submission. My costume doesn�t fit, but it�s too late to change now. I�m going as a vampire, an old standby. I hoped that wrapping myself in a favorite visage might ease my spirit. My shoulder-length hair is gelled back, a light dusting of white stage powder covers my face. My eyes are lined in black and lips colored burnt-red with cosmetics I borrowed from Stace. She�s the one dragging me out tonight.
Stace wants me to have some fun and leave my sorrow behind. But I fear that my own personal demon rides with the others tonight: Ellen. I�m wearing the cloak she made for me, a physical representation of my guilt over her. It is beautiful, black velvet with satin lining and a hood. She made it huge. It nearly reaches the floor, even with my 6�3� height. I�ll be plenty warm on this cool night.
A black band over my white stand-up collar finishes the outfit, in mockery of a Roman Collar. I don�t need fake fangs. I grew only one set of incisors, so my canines are closer together and a little long. My teeth are the envy of the goth crowd.
I�m not ready for this, but I�ll never be more ready. As I step out of the house, I recite to myself:K�un, Receptive, Yielding. Almost ironic with my predator fa�ade. Halloween is the one time we all dress up and look exactly like who we are on the inside. We adopt our secret selves while pretending to put on a mask. But not for me, tonight.
II
I drive to Stacy�s to pick her up. I let myself in her apartment because she won�t be ready.
�It�s me. How long will it be Stace?� I yell through the doorway.
�I�m almost ready.� She replies from the bathroom. Almost ready, that means another 20 minutes. If she said she was ready, that would mean at least 5 more minutes.
�I�ll have a seat then.�
�Go look on the dining room table,� she says. �I got you something for your outfit.�
Curious, I wander over and find a bottle of Chianti and a crystal goblet.
�You should drink that tonight, it will fit your costume better than that mash whisky you seem to enjoy. I don�t know how you drink that nasty stuff.� She comments.
�Thank you for the wine. Whisky is an acquired taste.�
�You mean it acquires enough of your taste buds. Maybe you should be going as a penguin. They don�t have taste buds.�
�Very funny. I went as a nun last year.�
�And a sorry-looking woman you did present.�
�I don�t know why I�m doing this.� I say. �I don�t want to go out and be social. I�m not ready for all those people.�
�We�ve been over this.� She sighs. �You do too need to be around people, you�ve been hiding away for ten months now. I can�t remember the last time you had a date. You have to go out, have some fun, maybe get laid.�
�No, you didn�t. Tell me you aren�t setting me up with someone. �
�I didn�t. But you should loosen up, be open to the possibility. Stop beating yourself up about Ellen. There was nothing you could have done, that night or any other. And if you don�t get laid soon, I might just have to set you up with Alisson. I think she�s bi.� She laughs. Alisson is her current lust.
�How do I look?� she asks, joining me in the dining room.
�Very Marilyn. Truly the sex symbol reincarnate.� She�s doing Marilyn Monroe in white, from the heating grate scene. Stacy is very pretty, even dressed as someone else. Of course the dress emphasizes her cleavage and legs, as if she needs any help.
�Thanks, it took me forever to do my hair right.�
�C�mon let�s get going.�
I grab the bottle and goblet as we head out the door.
We�re going to John and Stephen�s for a dethroning party. The elections are a few days off, but we intend to celebrate the end to a 12-year era of Republican representation in this state. John and Stephen have been together for several years. Most of the men going to this bash are gay too. I�m the token straight guy in the crowd.
III
When we arrive I note that I�m also one of the few guys not in drag. I don�t see any Marilyns to compete with Stacy. Betty Davis from �Whatever Happened To Baby Jane?� flits by, glass of gin in his hand.
I take a deep breath, relaxing as I exhale. Receptive. Yielding.
�William, Stacy, so good of you to join us.� A woman greets us. I look again, it�s John. He does a damn attractive woman. But he�s the only one that calls me William. To everyone else I�m Billy, or Scarecrow, a name I picked up in high school.
�I had to threaten him with holy water to get him here.� Stacy jokes.
�What do you think?� John asks, showing off his outfit. He has on a miniskirt that highlights his shaved, muscular legs and a baby-doll top emphasizing a false bust.
�Delicious. � Stacy says.
�I don�t know how you do it.� I shake my head. �If I didn�t know any better I�d ask you out.�
�Sorry, he�s taken.� Stephen glides up to us, dressed as our soon-to-be-deposed senator. He has a bit of a jealous streak, even with me. He�s not convinced I�m straight. And John doesn�t help things by being the center of attention everywhere they go.
�Where should I put this?� I ask, holding the Chianti bottle out.
�Stephen will show you.� John says. �I have guests to welcome. �
Stephen doesn�t look too thrilled, but he leads me over to the liquor cabinet. �Corkscrew?� he asks.
�No thanks.� I pull out my Lagouile folding knife and proceed to remove the wrapping and then the cork. When I get it opened, I pour myself a small amount. To let it breathe, I leave the bottle opened in the cabinet.
I move about the downstairs, swirling the wine as I wander. It�s actually quite good, with a deep flavor. I chat briefly with a few people I haven�t seen in a while, until John finds me again.
�William, I have some friends you must meet!� he grabs my arm and leads me to the kitchen. I�m not really in the mood to mingle, but I try to be receptive.
�William, this is Heather, and Samuel.� he introduces me to a lovely woman and a horrid drag queen. �Samuel and Heather, this is William, just coming out of hibernation.�
I shake their hands saying, �Please, it�s Billy. Our host has delusions of grandeur for me.� I smile at John.
�I just like to give people a little lift.� John replies, batting his eyelashes.
�Same with me, I�m Sam.�
�I�m surprised you didn�t kiss my hand.� Heather says with a voice that sounds like she just rose from a sound sleep. �Not very in character, are you?� She winks.
�I�m quite sorry to disappoint. The truth is that they threatened me with a staking if I didn�t show. This costume was all I could scare up on short notice. I�ve been more dead than undead lately, and not really up to acting the part.� I say, surprised at what I�m sharing with a complete stranger.
Heather is very pretty. Charcoal eyeliner, dark rose eye shadow and matching lipstick contrast her fair skin. Her hair is light brown with highlights, pulled tight to the back except for one lock that falls over her face. She�s wearing a black broomstick skirt and a long-sleeved, blue crop top that hugs her body. I notice that her navel is pierced, decorated with a belly chain. An anklet jingles when she moves.
Attractive, yes. But her eyes are what catch me, two sapphires that sparkle in the light. I lose the conversation while gazing into them. ��xcuse William. He�s been too busy carrying a burden to realize it isn�t his.� Thanks John. I really needed this embarrassing lecture now.
�Let it go, John.� Sam admonishes.
�It�s all right.� I say. �I promised myself that I would yield to the festivities.�
John changes the subject, �I see Sam is doing his imitation of Baba Yaga, but what are you dressed as?� he asks Heather.
�Sam convinced me to dress up, and he put all this goop on my face. I usually wear a T-shirt,khakis, and no makeup. This is as close to a witch as I could get.�
�Yeah,� Sam chimes in, �Heather is going to entertain us with magic tonight.�
�Well, I�m not really a witch. I�m taking a sociology course on witchcraft and paganism. But I found a neat book at the library with a few spells I�d like to try.�
�Oh there you are, John,� Betty Davis joins the conversation. �And who are your friends?� he leers at Sam.
As John starts the introductions, Stacy grabs me, �Have you seen Alison?�
�Yes, she�s dressed as Cleopatra.�
�I�ve seen two other Cleopatras so far, point her out to me.� She demands.
I leave John and the others, taking Stace to her latest obsession.
IV
Later, I lean against the wall watching John�s entertainment. He�s organized a bobbing for Jell-O shots. Way too goofy for me.
�There you are,� Heather greets me. �enjoying the fools� games?�
�It�s much better on the sidelines. Besides, I�m trying to keep in character with the red stuff.� I wave my wine goblet.
We watch for a few minutes, silent. I am physically aware of how close she is. I can smell the patchouli she wears. Inside, I struggle. I want to get to know her, but my fear holds me back. My jaw clenches with the effort.
�Hey,� she touches my face, �you OK?� The contact causes my stomach to do flips.
�Yeah, just preoccupied.� I answer lamely.
�You are throwing off some major pain. It�s like you emanate cold. I�ve never felt it so clearly.� The blank look on my face spurs her on.
�I get these flashes sometimes. I can tell what people are thinking or feeling.�
�I thought you weren�t really a witch.�
�This isn�t witchcraft, silly.� She strokes my arm. �This is real. Take Betty Davis over there. When we met I could tell he wanted Sam in the worst way.�
�That was obvious.�
�No, I mean could see what he wanted to do with Sam. He wants to tie Sam up and do the whole leather man thing. The images were very intense.�
John breaks in, �And now for the evening�s feature, Heather the Enchantress will amaze us with her sorcery.�
�That�s my cue.� she says, walking to the center of the room.
V
�Thank you, John. Could you and Stephen please light the candles and turn down the lights?� As they comply, she rummages through her sack, placing some items on the coffee table.
�My first spell will put a twist on an old game. I�ll need some volunteers. Let�s see�Marilyn, Frankenstein�s Monster, you in the catsuit, Betty Davis, and the vampire.� She points to me last. I�m not really in the mood to be someone else�s entertainment, but I committed participating.
�We�re going to play truth or dare, but first I�m going to cast a binding spell. This spell will force you to tell the truth or act out the dare immediately, without thinking first. You will not be inhibited by your normal feelings, though you will still experience them. And I�ll be calling the shots.� She grins mischievously.
�First, I need you to consent to be bound. Do you consent to answer all my questions with the absolute truth, and perform all dares completely, without hedging?� Heather asks the catwoman, looking into her eyes.
�Yes. � she answers.
Heather repeats the question with each of us. When she comes to me, I have trouble meeting her eyes. She stares right into me as she asks. I feel the sensation of freefall in the pit of my stomach, wanting to turn and run. What the hell is wrong with me?I manage to croak out, �Yes.� in response. Why do I find her so threatening?
K�un, Receptive, Yielding, I breathe.
�I will need a hair from each of you, please.� Heather requests, placing a small brazier on the table. As we comply, she wraps each hair around a small, cone-shaped root about two inches tall. �A real hair Betty, not from the wig.� She scolds.
When she has all five hairs wrapped around the cone, she places it in the brazier. �While I cast the spell, you must look into the brazier, watching your hair be consumed by the flame. The flame will mingle you with the dried root. It will bind you to the rules of the game until I end the spell.�
She lights a match, saying, �Watch the flame, listen to my words.� The root burns greenish when she touches it. �Look into the fire, see it ignite the hair, burning, taking you deeper, and deeper into the binding. As it burns, you feel yourself being bound:to tell the absolute truth and to perform any dare completely. Watch the flame burn down, inhale the smoke, it brings you further under the spell of binding. You will tell the truth and complete the dares until I rescind the spell. Gaze into the flame, feel it pulling you into the spell.� Her voice is soothing, the flame captivating, I fall deeper into it.
Suddenly, she blows the fire out. Strange, I don�t remember it burning down so low.
�You are all under the binding spell now. The game begins. OK Mr. Monster, what�s your name?�
�Ethan. �
�Ethan, truth or dare?�
�Dare. �
�Ethan, go beg the person you want the most to spank you for being a bad boy.�
What?She�s starting off quick. Shit like this usually takes a while to get up to. Ethan never hesitates. He stands up and walks over to the Phantom of the Opera. Bending over, he pleads, �Please, Charlie, spank me, I�ve been a very bad boy.�
The Phantom may be surprised, but he takes it in stride. He proceeds to give Ethan five hard swats. �There�s more to come for you tonight Ethan,� he says � you�ve been holding out on me. I�m going to redden that cute ass of yours later. �
�Marilyn, truth or dare?�
�Dare. �
�Alright. I want you to express your feelings to the person you desire most in this room, right now.�
Stace jumped up and walked over to Alisson. �Alisson, I want you terribly. You�re all I have thought about for weeks. At night, I think about your mouth on me as I bring myself off. � I watch the normally implacable Stacy pale considerably. �Please, take me to bed tonight.�
Alisson is shocked. I think she knew Stace was interested in her. But having it expressed so graphically in front of 20 people stuns her. Stace isn�t looking so good herself. I don�t think she can believe she said all that. Score one for Heather, Stace is very hard to embarrass.
�Yes,� Alisson speaks softly, �come home with me tonight.� she whispers. Wow, she has guts. I don�t think I�d have the cojones to respond in her shoes. Everyone applauds. Stace hugs her fiercely, and then returns to her spot around the table, beaming. Glancing back at Heather, I think I see relief on her face. I get the feeling she was as surprised at Stace�s entreating as Alisson was.
�Betty, or should I call you Ms. Davis?Truth or dare?�
�Brian is fine. Truth.�
�Brian, tell me your favorite fantasy.�
�I�m dressed in all black leather and chrome, from my leather cap to engineer boots. I have a man tied face down to the bed, he�s naked. I penetrate him repeatedly with a big, black dildo until he�s almost ready to cum. Then I enter him, fucking roughly while I stroke his dick. I squirt in him as he cums on the sheets.� Brian claps his hands over his mouth and casts a furtive glance towards Sam.
�Billy, truth or dare?�
Shit. �Truth.�
�Billy, when was the last time you had sex and who was it with?�
�December 28th of last year, around 10 o�clock at night. It was with a woman named Kim.� The words come right out of my mouth, before I realize what I�m saying. It dawns on me, what I just said. December 28th, Ellen, god, no. A wave of nausea crashes over me, I grip the table.
�William. � John calls my name, bending down next to me. �Are you OK, buddy?�
�Yeah. � I manage to get out.
�Go easy on him� John says to Heather.
�I thought I was.� She replies, obviously concerned about me.
Heather regains her composure. �Catgirl, truth or dare?�
�Dare. �
�I dare you to act like a real cat, in heat. With someone in this room. �
Without a word, she crawls across the room, mewling. Reaching a guy dressed as Mad Max, she starts to rub up against him, still on her knees. Her cries get louder, she sounds almost like a real cat. Finally, she backs into his crotch and dry humps him. The guy isn�t sure what to do.
�Catgirl, stop, the dare is over.� Heather commands. The woman stops, flushing with shame. Until she looks at Mad Max. His face registers pure lust, she smiles and licks her paw. She walks over to rejoin us.
�OK, I think that�s enough game for tonight. I want you all to look into the brazier again while I undo the spell. When the spell is gone, you will all feel better about what happened during the game. You will remember it all, but the bad feelings will go up in smoke with the powder� She lights a match. �The game is � over.� There is a flash as she touches a small bit of silver powder. I feel released, and somehow, not so bad about telling her when I last had sex.
�Billy, you�ve been a very good sport this evening. To show my appreciation, I will cast a spell on your behalf.� Heather says theatrically. �In early America, the older girls would get together on Halloween to divine their romantic futures. They played games to foretell the occupation of their future husband or who would be married within the year. I came across a related incantation that enabled the girl to know her true love when they met. It will draw your soulmate to you, and you will realize she is your true love when you meet.�
I glance over to Stace to see if she put Heather up to this. She returns an innocent look. Heather arranges a ceramic bowl with what looks like dried rose petals in it. She sprinkles a powder over the petals.
�Please give me your hand.�
�What for?�
�I need a drop of blood, for the spell.�
�What?!�
�C�mon, humor me. I won�t hurt you. Besides, you�re a vampire, what do you care about a little blood?�
I hesitate, then acquiesce. �OK. � I give her my hand. �Just to let you know, I don�t believe in true love.� I say softly.
�Doesn�t matter. You don�t have to believe in the magic for it to work. Look at me.�
I look at her, face only inches away from mine. Her eyes sparkle, and I feel her stroking my fingers.
�Done. � She says. I look down, having felt no prick. She has a long thorn in her hands, with my blood on it. Mixing the blood into the bowl, she begins to mumble words I don�t recognize. With a match, she lights the petals. The scent of roses fills the air. I watch it burn out, leaving no ashes. Heather stops mumbling.
�I don�t feel any different. I don't see any women flocking towards me.�
�The spell may take a while. It will get stronger as the night progresses and the spirit realm gains influence in our world. This influence culminates just before midnight, and then the barrier between the two worlds becomes intact again.�
I am not sure I believe all this mumbo-jumbo, but hey, I�ll humor her. It�s only about 11, so there�s still some time left for her mojo to do its work.
VI
In spite of myself, I think I�m having a good time. Heather and I talk about her studies at the university. She�s getting her Master�s in Social Anthropology. The witchcraft course is an elective, but has been so interesting that it has prompted her to look into interdisciplinary studies next semester. The university offers an advanced literature course on demons, ghosts, and witches in folklore. She�s also taking a psych course covering suggestion and hypnosis throughout history.
I tell her about my work at the university. I�m a business development consultant. I help companies, mostly startups, build their markets and plan a long-term strategy. Sounds more exciting than it is. I also teach one class a semester. This term it�s International Economics. The class is sort of advanced macroeconomics, with a little politics thrown in. I like it, the students don�t. They all hope I�m going to reveal a surefire way to make money in international markets. It doesn�t work that way. Econ only tells you why you shouldn�t be able to make money. I guess George Soros didn�t listen in Int�l Econ either.
While we talk, I notice little things about her. This close I can see cute freckles across her nose, subdued by the heavy foundation. She laughs a lot, and I like the sound. She�s also very touchy-feely, a habit that thrills and unnerves me.
�It�s practically midnight. I believe the witching hour is upon us. � I joke.
�We still have a minute or two.�
�Well I certainly don�t feel anything. Maybe you�re the victim of a 200-year-old hoax?�
�Maybe. � she consents.
�Oh!� she exclaims, dropping her beer.
I bend down to help her, the bottle isn�t broken, but it�s foaming all over. �Here, let me help you. Are you OK? What happened?�
She looks at me with wide eyes. �Uh, nothing, it slipped. I�m OK. Oh shit. Um, hold this.� She hands me the bottle. �I�ll get something to clean it up with.� She leaves for the kitchen, muttering obscenities.
�Party foul!� John yells. He walks over as Heather returns with a washcloth.
�Sorry John, it just slipped out of my hand.� She mops up the spill. �I hope the carpet isn�t ruined.�
�No worry, it�s got that stain guard thing. We have lots of parties here. Heather, your hands are shaking, it�s really alright.� John sooths. �Besides it isn�t a party until something gets spilled.�
Heather smiles weakly. �I guess I was a little worked up. I�ll be fine.�
�What the hell happened!� Stephen notices the spill.
�Calm down Stephen. It�s no big deal. We�re taking care of it.� John replies. �Why don�t you go make sure our guests haven�t run out of snacks. And put out another tray of Jell-O shots.�
�Just make sure it doesn�t stain.� he snaps, leaving.
�Pay him no attention honey, he�s just feeling a little pissy tonight. Oh what I have to put up with. But he�s sooo good in bed.� John smirks.
We finish swabbing the spill. It is still damp, but I don�t think it will stain. �What were we talking about?� I ask. �Oh, yeah, the time. Well it�s past midnight, the goblins have all gone home. I don't seem to be the electromagnet of love, nor have I turned into a pumpkin. I don't think your spell worked.�
�Huh? Yeah, I suppose not.�
�Can I get you another beer?�
�No, I think this was one too many. Could you do me a favor?�
�Sure, what.�
�I think I need a ride home. It looks like Sam is preoccupied.� She motions to a corner where he and Brian are necking. Considering their outfits, it�s a rather ugly sight. �And I think your friend is leaving with Cleopatra.�
�Yeah,� I strain to see the door, �Typical of Stace. I�d have spent half an hour searching for her too.�
VII
I get my mostly-full bottle of Chianti and cloak. Heather has a light jacket. We bid our hosts goodbye and head out.
We don�t talk much in the car. My personal demon didn�t leave with the rest. She haunts me.
�I�m really sorry about that truth or dare game. I didn�t mean to hurt you.� Heather breaks the silence.
�It�s OK, it�s not your fault. I was just being over-sensitive. � I try to brush if off.
�You cloak yourself in such sorrow, I wish I could help.� She touches my shoulder.
�You don�t happen to know any exorcism spells, do you?�
�No, that�s church-stuff, not magic. Besides, I don�t think you�re possessed. If you ever just want to talk, call me, OK?� She says, rubbing my arm.
�Thanks. John thinks I ought to see a shrink.�
�I don�t have those qualifications, but I listen well.�
�Stace tells me to hire a hooker.� I grin. �Sex is her solution to everything.�
�It can be very therapeutic.� She smiles back. �There�s my apartment. Just drop me off here.�
I pull to the curb and let her off. I watch her make it inside before I pull away. What a roller coaster night. Heather is nice, but something about her makes me anxious. At any rate, I did manage to forget myself for a little while there. The I-Ching was right.
I head home to an empty apartment, alone with my memories muttering in the back of my head.
All Hallowed's Eve
� Copyright 2001 by Bram Ransey
http://www.asstr.org/~mac_Heath