Printer-friendly version


Dear Reader: If you have come looking for a typical Michele Nylons story I’m afraid you are going to be disappointed. I have tried my hand at something new and I don’t think I have got it quite right. In fact I think I might have failed miserably but take a look and tell me what you think. Some of you will no doubt laugh at me for attempting this story but hopefully some of you will enjoy it. Be prepared to be taken on a different kind of ride.

Love as always,
Michele xxx


Wendy McLennan looked at herself in the mirror and was happy with what she saw.

Looking back at her was an attractive young woman wearing a black microfiber longsleeved minidress, sheer black pantyhose and four-inch black high heels. She had a pointed witch’s hat on her head and was holding a straw broom. Her makeup was dramatic: blood-red lipstick, heavy black mascara, smoky black eyeliner, multi-hued eyeshadow and rouged cheeks. Her shoulder length hair was raven-black with indigo highlights worn straight with bangs. Her décolletage was exposed by the dress’s plunging neckline.

Wendy McLennan was dressed as a Halloween witch and Mary Whitford, her best friend at the Omicron Lambda Lamia coeducational fraternity, had helped her with her costume and makeup. Wendy pretended to need all the help she could get because under the makeup, dress and heels was twenty year old William McLennan. Wendy’s hair, her svelte figure, her long shapely legs and her pretty face were all her. The only part of her body that was artificial was her breasts which were expensive silicon breastforms.

“You look gorgeous! Wendy the witch! O… M… G! I’d never guess that that was you William, you look more like a woman than I do,” Mary squealed.

William had not let on that he had been crossdressing ever since he had reached puberty. He had started, like most, borrowing his sister’s clothing and had progressed to owning his own extensive wardrobe. Also like most, he was very much in the closet and few knew of his secret, certainly no one in the fraternity.

“I do look pretty convincing don’t I?” Wendy complimented herself.

“You sound it too,” Mary giggled.

“I’ve been practicing my female voice ever since I decided to dress as a witch,” Wendy lied.

William had perfected a female voice long ago and practiced it until it came naturally to him.

The fraternities and sororities at Saceur College trick or treated every Halloween, it was a long held tradition. Each frat-house and sorority gave an award for the best costume and Wendy was sure that she would not be the only guy getting around in drag tonight but she wondered how many of them were also secret transvestites?

Gangs of college students dressed in their Halloween finery roamed the streets of Haxa, the small Virginian town where Saceur College was located, and trick or treated late into the night after most of the children had gone to bed. Most of Haxa’s residents enjoyed the antics and pranks played by the students and those who didn’t tolerated them because the college was one of the primary sources of revenue for the townsfolk. They treated the costumed students of Saceur College not with candy, but with booze and snacks and in the case of some of the more liberal thinking residents, drugs.

“You look stunning too Mary,” Wendy complimented her friend.

Mary was dressed as Harley Quinn and she had gone full Margo Robbie right down to the red and blue accented blonde hair, midriff exposing ripped t-shirt, tiny hotpants, runnered black fishnet pantyhose and quirky high-heeled boots. She had the makeup down pat too. Mary had even gone to the trouble of finding authentic temporary tattoos, including the ‘Lucky You’ below her navel.

The ‘Lucky You’ tattoo had always intrigued Wendy but she disagreed with online pundits about its meaning. Wendy thought the tattoo was located above Harley Quinn’s crotch to specify that if you had got that far you were getting lucky. Wendy looked at the corresponding tattoo on Mary Whitford’s lower belly and thought that she wouldn’t mind getting lucky with Mary. She wondered if Mary might be up for some faux lesbian sex later.

Wendy shook the thought out of her mind to be revisited later; she was becoming uncomfortably erect in her red satin panties as a tableaux of sexual fantasies played out in her mind. William/Wendy McLennan was bisexual. William was only interested in women, the thought of having sex with another man interested him not at all. Wendy however swung both ways and she was liked to spend the weekends and holidays in the nearby city of Pishach picking up tranny-chasers in LGBTI bars or holed in her hotel room and posting her availability on Craigslist and Grindr.

Wendy and Mary met the other frat members in the House’s common room which had been appropriately decorated for the holiday. Their frat brothers and sisters had gone to the same considerable efforts with their costumes. There were pirates, super heroes, ghouls, goblins and ghosts, and celebrity impressionists and parodies and of course, some of the men were in drag as were some of the women although Wendy still thought that she looked the most convincing.

They drank shots and shotgunned a couple of beers and were well on their way to being inebriated by the time they left to go trick or treating. Wendy and Mary teamed up with the werewolf, Superwoman and Beetlejuice and headed out into Haxa just after 9PM.

The streets of Haxa were bereft of children who had been replaced by marauding gangs of college students. Some of the houses had been darkened but most still had welcoming lights and decorations. Wendy’s little group knocked on half a dozen doors where they were greeted with bottles of beer and shots of liquor and in some instances were invited in for cocktails. They soon lost Superwoman who elected to stay in a house inhabited by a couple in their late twenties. The lady of the house was dressed as Elvira and her husband as Superman and they made it obvious that they were putting more emphasis on tricking than treating. Wendy was a little jealous; she wouldn’t have minded a ménage à trois with the attractive couple herself.

At another house they were offered Molly which combined with the alcohol to provide a mellowing effect and they were offered mushrooms at another house, which caused Wendy to have mild hallucinations. Later in the evening Wendy found herself alone and on the outskirts of Haxa coming down from an MDMA and psilocybin induced high, feeling disoriented and dehydrated. She had no idea what had happened to Mary, the werewolf or Beetlejuice. She had lost her witch’s hat and straw broom somewhere but that was not her main concern.

The area was quite rural and there was only one house on the street and it looked abandoned. Then Wendy saw a light in one of the windows and she sighed with relief and made her way over to the house. She would ask for some water and request the owner call her a cab as she had sensibly left her cell phone in her dorm room. Last year she had awoken the day after Halloween hungover, naked and bereft of her phone, wallet and keys and she had no intention of doing so this year.

The wooden gate was stuck half-open and refused to budge so she eased around it carefully so as not to put a runner in her pantyhose. The gate was attached by rusty hinges to a lopsided and decrepit fence overgrown with weeds and missing most of its pickets. The house didn’t look much better. The roof was sagging and missing slats, the exterior wooden cedar walls were misaligned and the battens were bleached and coming adrift. The windows were filthy with grime and the tattered mesh curtains looked like they had rotted in place. Wendy was surprised that anyone lived in the house but as she made her way along the broken brick path she could definitely hear footsteps and discordant music.

She wondered if it was the drugs she had taken or just her overactive imagination but the house didn’t seem to be getting any closer and she seemed to have been walking on the crumbling path for an eternity.

Wendy closed her eyes and shook her head to clear her mind and when she opened them she was surprised to find that she was on the stoop and only inches from the door. The jangly music was somewhat louder and the dingy diaphanous drapes whispered as they rustled in the breeze although Wendy couldn’t feel one.

The door swung open on rusted hinges without her even knocking and Wendy was half-expecting some sort of ghoul to greet her. A shiver ran down her spine and she considered running away but she doubted that her legs were up to the task. But instead of a ghoul she was greeted by a handsome well-dressed young man.

“Can I help you?” the man’s voice was lustrous and exotic with an accent that Wendy couldn’t place.

“I’m Wendy McLennan, a student at Saceur College. I’ve been out trick or treating and I seem to be lost,” she explained.

Her mouth felt like it was filled with cotton wool.

“Of course… A few of your colleagues came knocking on my door earlier tonight and I was able to treat them although my resources are somewhat limited,” the man opened the door wide and indicated for Wendy to enter.

The interior of the house appeared to be as decrepit as the exterior and Wendy was reluctant to go inside.

The man smiled and his handsome face became almost beatific. Wendy felt like she wanted drown in the deep blue pools of his eyes.

“Sorry about the house. I inherited it from my grandfather and I’m only staying in it for a few days to clear out the family memorabilia and heirlooms before it’s sold,” the man gestured with his open hand for Wendy to enter.

Wendy felt the house almost pull her inside and when she stepped over the doorsill she felt another chill run down her spine. The door closed behind her and the occupant sidled up beside her. He smelled nicely of aftershave but there was subtle undercurrent of rotting meat coming from somewhere.

“I’m Stephan Trompeur, pleased to meet you Wendy,” the man offered his hand to Wendy.

“I’d just like a drink of water and to use your phone to call a ride,” Wendy explained, declining to take the well-manicured hand offered to her.

“I’m happy to wait outside on the stoop,” she added.

“Nonsense. I’ll not hear of it. Come into the drawing room and get warm. I’ll get you a drink and bring you the phone,” Stephan took Wendy’s hand in his.

His flesh felt cool and smooth and she felt a slight tingle of electricity which both scared and excited her. She studied his features in the gloom and observed that Stephan was brutally handsome, slim and muscular, with a symmetrical face, black hair and eyes that were like fire and ice with currents you could drown in. Wendy felt herself being drawn into them.

They seemed to glide effortlessly along the ratty colourless carpet runner down a hall where the decrepit walls were mouldy and decaying wallpaper hung in swathes, some of it draped over fading portraits of long-dead people and antiquated rural scenes.

“I should explain. I’m not really a girl,” Wendy felt stupid as soon as she had said it.

“Of course you are; at least for tonight,” Stephan squeezed her palm.

The drawing room was the antithesis of the rest of the house. A fire crackled in the huge fireplace warming the room. Had Wendy noticed smoke coming from the chimney? She couldn’t remember and it didn’t seem important, she was so exhausted that she could hardly stay on her feet.

The room was dark, lit only by the desultory glow of the open fire and the pallid gleam of an antique desk lamp set on an ancient secretaire. The light failed to fill the room and shadows extended into the corners making it difficult to assess the size of the room. Heavy brocaded curtains blocked any light that might have seeped past the tattered sheers. Dust motes floated lazily in the air.

Stephan led Wendy to a chestnut leather Chesterfield. With its tufted and studded detailing, gracefully curved arms and overstuffed padding it looked imposing but inviting. Wendy had never felt so tired; it was almost like she was outside her body watching herself through a window.

“Sit. Let me get you something and then we can use the phone,” Stephan’s voice was hypnotising and Wendy could not resist.

She could see the ancient Bakelite rotary-dial telephone on the secretaire and although she knew that she should just walk over to it and call a ride she couldn’t fight the urge to just sit and rest. The soft leather seat cushions felt cool and comforting on the back of her thighs and she sighed as she took the weight off her feet. She pushed herself back on the lounge and leaned into it. She lifted her legs and curled them under her and put her head on a throw cushion to rest for minute or two.

She didn’t know how long she had been asleep when Stephan gently shook her awake; it could have been seconds, it could have been hours.

Stephan was sitting beside her holding a glass of red wine.

“I think the last thing I need is more alcohol,” Wendy yawned but she reached for the proffered glass anyway.

“It’s my family’s best vintage. They once grew grapes on this farm and had a small vineyard and winery,” Stephan picked up a glass off the occasional table and clinked his glass to hers.

“To new friends,” he smiled and for a millisecond his face seemed to change into something demonic and then return to its handsome self.

“The Molly; the shrooms! Why did I have to do both?” Wendy whispered.

“You have a friend Molly?” Stephan's smooth brow furrowed.

Wendy smiled at his naiveté.

“Never mind. To new friends,” Wendy raised her glass in salute and took a sip.

The wine was breathtaking in its intensity and flavour. When she swallowed it and rather than making her stomach lurch as she had expected it to, the wine invigorated her.

The desolate fatigue that had pervaded her body was lifted. She took another sip and she felt herself soaring, invigorated, her perception was needle sharp. But it was skewed. The feeling of being disembodied, watching the tableaux play out before her as if she was part of an audience returned and intensified. She looked into Stephan’s face and once again marvelled at his handsomeness.

Wendy felt herself becoming concupiscent. Her penis was becoming uncomfortably tumescent tucked along her perineum.

“Do you like the wine?” Stephan asked and inched closer.

His arm lay along the top of the couch behind her and his thighs were touching hers. He was uncomfortably close but Wendy felt herself unable to sidle away from him. Did she want to?

“It’s wonderful Stephan but I should really call a cab,” she gave him a wan smile.

Disappointment briefly registered on his face which seemed to briefly shimmer and then his captivating smile returned.

“Finish your drink and I’ll bring over the telephone,” his fingers briefly caressed her shoulder and she once again felt the tingle of electricity at his touch.

Wendy downed the remains of her drink and set down the glass.

“There! Now please get me the phone,” was what she meant to say.

“Thank you so much for helping me Stephan but I really must go,” was what she actually said.

Although she had set her resolve to get up off the couch she found that she couldn’t move. No, that’s not right. She didn’t want to move.

“I was hoping you would stay a little longer. It’s so isolated out here and except for your trick or treating colleagues I’ve seen no one,” Stephan sipped his wine.

He leaned down and filled Wendy’s glass.

“And you are so beautiful and delightful,” he offered the glass to Wendy who declined to take it.

So why was the glass in her hand? Why was she sipping it?

“You don’t know me Stephan. And as I told you I’m not really a girl under this costume,” Wendy breathed.

“Nonsense Wendy. You are whoever you want to be,” Stephan reached out and gently caressed her cheek.

His hand was icy cold but it burned her skin. Her cheek blushed when he touched her and a current of deep contentment and awakening spread from her face and blossomed deep inside her. Her penis was excruciatingly turgid and extremely uncomfortable. She desperately wanted to free it from the prison between her buttocks but it would be decidedly inappropriate and provocative.

Stephan pulled her against his chest. His lips softly caressed her ear and she let out a tiny gasp and squirmed uncomfortably. Wendy didn’t like being so intimately handled by a stranger. Then she felt his lips softly graze her slender neck. Her face heated. She summoned enough courage to meet his gaze. His deep blue eyes seemed bottomless and she wanted to submerge herself in them. His lips appeared indescribably red and soft and she yearned to feel them on hers.

When he stroked her hair the pleasurable feelings intensified. It was as if his touch ignited feelings inside her that she didn’t know existed.

“I really think I should…” Wendy didn’t finish the sentence.

Stephan’s lips pressed against hers and she felt herself melt. At first his lips felt thin and icy-cold but they instantly metamorphosed and became warm soft and plaint. For a millisecond his breath reeked but instantaneously became sweet and fragrant.

Wendy gasped and opened her mouth allowing Stephan’s tongue to delve in her mouth. She put her arms around his broad shoulders and leaned into him dismissing the fleeting stink of death as just another odour emitted by a decaying house.

They kissed languidly, exploring each other’s mouths, pressing their bodies together. Wendy was aware that her breastforms were a deceitful lie but Stephan caressed them though her dress regardless. Surely he must know?

Stephan's tongue came alive in her mouth exploring every nook and cranny. At times it felt like it was forked, each tip acting independently to caress and fondle her tongue and palate. He stroked and caressed her while as he kissed her. His hand languidly moved from her cheek, to her neck, down her arms to her breast, across her tight belly and then rested on her thigh.

Stephan's fingers slid under the hem of her skirt and circled the top of her legs and Wendy thought she might die of expectation and suspense when they rested there. She so wanted him to continue exploring under her dress, her cock was thrumming in eagerness. It pressed against her pantyhose and panties straining to be free.

Stephan's fingers resumed their journey, caressing her silken sheathed thighs and then circling the little wrinkles at the backs of her knees. They continued down her calf and stroked her ankle which was impossible. Because of the way she was laying on the Chesterfield, Stephan would have to have arms six feet long to reach her feet. She kept her eyes closed and just concentrated on kissing him ignoring the hallucinations engendered by the drugs and alcohol. The thought that Stephan was some sort of chimaera crossed her mind briefly and was whisked away when Stephan boldly lifted Wendy up off the couch and sat her in his lap. Stephan was indeed very strong.

Wendy sat facing Stephan and she looked deep into his eyes which she found compelling, almost hypnotic. His smile melted her heart. She so wanted this man to make love to her.

“May I?” he asked as his hands slid under her flimsy dress and stroked her thighs.

“You may,” Wendy leaned in and kissed him.

Stephan returned the kiss and then eased her away so that she was sitting upright in his lap. He lifted her dress out of the way exposing the red satin panties she was wearing over her black pantyhose. Stephan slipped his fingers inside the waistband of her pantyhose and Wendy lifted herself up a little so he had access to her.

Stephan found Wendy engorged and throbbing between the cheeks of her buttocks and he gently freed her so that she tented the front of her panties. His hand remained inside her pantyhose and his finger tickled her puckered bud causing Wendy to flinch. Then it slid inside her, past her crinkled sphincter and inside her anus.

Wendy had douched before she dressed as a matter of course but she hadn't really been expecting to have sex tonight so she hadn't lubricated herself but Stephan’s finger found no resistance. It was as if his long manicured fingers were so smooth that they needed none.

Wendy squirmed in Stephan’s lap as his finger went deeper inside her. He caressed her prostate causing little jewels of pre-ejaculate to form where her penis pressed against her panties. Stephan scooped them up with a fingertip and brought it to his lips. Wendy groaned as he expertly massaged her prostate, dilating it and stroking it so that she produced more pre-seminal fluid as he elicited feelings of deep prolonged pleasure.

Using his free hand he rolled down the front of her panties exposing the dark fifteen-denier control-top pantyhose. He pressed a fingernail into where her pantyhose were tented by her engorged penis to create a little hole and freed her engorged penis.

Wendy gasped when he gently stroked her cock, working the slippery pre-ejaculate into her tender flesh. His finger continued its journey inside her, past the anorectal sphincter and into her rectum where it circled and massaged her inner bowel. Wendy thought Stephan’s finger must be extraordinary long to reach so far inside her but the thought was fleeting, she was too immersed in the pleasure that Stephan was evoking from her throbbing penis and aching anus.

She leaned forward and kissed him and Stephan’s snake-like tongue slipped into her mouth evoking yet more blissful lust. She kissed him deeply and then she leaned back so that she was straddling his thighs and had access to his groin. She unbuckled him and was amused to find that he had a buttoned fly and she teased him, slowly opening it one button at a time.

Stephan responded by driving his finger impossibly deep into her bowel whilst squeezing her cock so tight that she nearly ejaculated. Stephan let go before she reached extremis and he smiled wickedly at her.

“Continue please Wendy or I shall cause you to ejaculate prematurely and you will miss out on the most memorable of experiences,” his smile was impossibly wide and his teeth appeared jagged and pointed.

Stephan closed his mouth and when he opened it again it had returned to the beautiful full-lipped mouth that Wendy so wanted to kiss. She shook off the effects of the drugs and concentrated on unbuttoning the remaining the studs.

She reached inside and Stephan smiled virulently when she found his thick palpitating appendage coiled inside his underpants. It throbbed in her hand like something alive with its own heartbeat and the shaft felt like it was covered in smooth scales. When she freed the protuberance from his flies she saw that it was nothing more than a most splendorous specimen of a male organ. It was extremely long and skin was translucent, she could see the veins pulsing, the glans was pink and spongy and a trickle of precum dribbled from the eye.

Wendy was mesmerised by the impressive example of manhood and she took the translucent driblet on her fingertip and bought it to her mouth. It tasted divine and Stephan pulled her to him and kissed her so that he could share her prize. His tongue explored her mouth while his finger explored her anus. Their cocks pressed together and throbbed in anticipation of what was about to come.

Stephan extracted his finger from inside Wendy’s anus and it seemed to her to take perpetuity until it slid past her sphincter. Stephan put both his hands under Wendy’s buttocks and lifted her bodily and adjusted her so that she was sitting above his rampant member.

“Let me remove my panties and pantyhose or at least pull them down,” Wendy giggled like a schoolgirl.

“No need my dear, nor do I want to,” that malicious shark-like grin returned briefly to his face.

To her amazement when Stephan slowly lowered her, his cock cut through her satin panties and nylon-spandex pantyhose like a knife through warm butter. When it pressed on her sphincter it briefly felt like tip of a blade but it morphed back into the spongy assemblage of a human glans.

When it slid past her sphincter and entered her anus it felt amazing despite there being no lubricant. Copious amounts of pre-ejaculate eased its passage. His cock disgorged the slippery fluid in an almost constant stream like a dog’s preputial discharge prior to mating. Stephan’s cock felt wonderful as it entered Wendy’s tight anus, the shaft once more seemed like it was covered in smooth scales which evoked rings of pleasure from her anal sheath whilst his glans pressed on her prostate which caused her to squirm with delight.

His cock seemed inconceivably long as Stephan continued to enter her. Wendy gasped as the throbbing appendage pushed past her anorectal sphincter. She had never had a penis in her so deep and the feelings it evoked were wondrous.

She began to rise and fall on the engorged phallus that filled and stretched her bowels but Stephen put his hands on her shoulder and pressed her down into his lap.

“No need for that either my darling, just hold still and let me,” Stephen pulled her to him and kissed her passionately.

Wendy felt Stephan's cock unbelievably morph into corkscrew shaped proboscis that spiralled in and out of her anus. He held her still, driving his tongue inside her mouth whilst his coiled appendage twisted and turned inside her as it wormed deeper and deeper inside her until she thought it would burst out of her mouth. There was no pain, only intense feelings of sexual excitement that she was unable to describe.

Stephan’s coiled, palpitating organ slid in and out of her anus at an incredible rate, driving deep inside her, then quickly spiralling out and then again spearing her sphincter and entering her deepest parts.

Stephan nuzzled her neck and stroked and squeezed her penis, bringing her to the pinnacle of relief and then receding and denying her ejaculation. He teased her as his cock oscillated inside her. Her panties were soaked with Stephan’s pre-ejaculate as he continued to expel profuse amounts precum.

Wendy realised that the combination of drugs, booze and whatever it was that Stephan had given her to drink was causing her to have delusions but whatever they were, they were amazing.

Wendy had never felt so well and truly, wonderfully fucked before. Stephan’s cock was doing things inside her that she had never dreamed possible. It pressed and prodded her prostate and wriggled and writhed against her sphincter causing the most wondrous pleasure. If Stephan wasn’t squeezing her cock preventing her from coming she would have orgasmed at least twice by now.

Suddenly Stephan bellowed; his roar painful to her ears. His cock seemed to engorge so that it threatened to split her open and his hand suddenly felt freezing cold on her cock and then became white hot. He stroked her throbbing erection as his spiralled appendage jackhammered in and out of her and flooded her with bitterly cold semen. Her anus seemed like it was frostbitten but the feelings of delicious pleasure that Stephan's squirming, pounding cock evoked from her was almost unbearable.

Wendy screamed as she ejaculated joining Stephan’s roar filling the room with a cacophony of shrieks and howls. A wraith like presence emerged from the shadows and circled the rutting couple grinning through a translucent mouth; its ethereal smile was malicious and mischievous.

Stephan roared again and the wraith scampered away back to the shadows as Wendy clung to him while he filled her with his freezing seed. She gasped and writhed in his embrace when he bit her lips and drew blood which he lapped up with relish, she didn’t care. It only added to her pleasure. At the apogee of her orgasm Wendy passed out as the intensity of it overwhelmed her.

She didn’t get to see the twelve inch long, pulsing, snake-skinned, coiled and writhing appendage that Stephan withdrew from her sphincter. It was still sputtering gobbets of semen that spattered on her clothing where it hissed and smoked. Stephan reached down and scooped up Wendy's ejaculate and sucked it from his fingers. When he had collected every drop he removed her from his lap and lay her on the couch and gazed upon her. He leaned down and licked more blood from her bruised lip.

“I think you will do Wendy. I think you will do splendidly,” he whispered.

Somewhere deep in the house a moan was followed by a scream then the house became silent except for the patter and scratching of rats and mice.


Wendy awoke from a vivid tortuous dream where she was being pursued through a maze by a faceless spectre. Her sphincter was burning and her anus ached. She put a hand down there and found her panties were soaked with a mucus-like substance that had to be Stephan’s semen. Wendy had never seen a man produce so much seminal fluid before.

Her head was fuzzy but the effects of the drugs and alcohol appeared to have abated. She was cold, lying atop a bed that she instantly knew wasn’t her own. She reached out expecting to find Stephan lying beside her but she was alone. She willed herself to open her eyes even though she wanted to go back to sleep.

It was still dark. How could it be? It seemed like she had been asleep for hours. She sat up and surveyed her surroundings. She looked at her watch and realised that she wasn’t wearing one. ‘Witches don’t wear watches,’ Mary Whitford had giggled when she was helping Wendy dress.

Wendy was lying on a huge wooden four-poster bed. The duvet was extravagant and baroque, intricate patterns brocaded on heavy silk inlaid with gold threads. But it was old and faded, ancient and threadbare, and it smelled musty and felt dank. Wendy thought she felt something moving under the covers and she leapt off the bed.

She clung to the side table on unsteady feet. She was still fully-clothed and she leaned down and took off her heels. The bedroom was cavernous, filled with decaying antique furniture. The rugs were threadbare and pallid; their weave and patterns almost indiscernible. The walls were uneven and the ancient wallpaper was jaded and loose. Something small and fast was making zigzag lines under the wallpaper, most likely plaster beetles or lice, she hoped it wasn’t spiders.

Wendy shivered and looked away. She went over to the grime-clogged window and eased aside the rotting curtains. How could it still be night? Had she slept through a whole day? She could just make out the overgrown garden, the crooked fence and the broken gate. A foggy mist obscured everything beyond and a constant drizzle fell from a troubled sky.

Wendy noticed a faint light coming from a door and went over to inspect it. She pushed on the door expecting it to creak and complain but it opened smoothly on well-oiled hinges. It opened onto an impossibly modern ensuite bathroom. It made no sense to Wendy who thought the whole house should be demolished and rebuilt but she was an English Lit major not an architect so what did she know?

When she saw the clean contemporary white porcelain toilet Wendy realised how much she needed pee. She pulled down her panties and pantyhose just in time and seated herself on the toilet and released an almost endless gush of pee. Her cock was shrivelled and a little sore and she smiled wickedly when she remembered the tremendous orgasm she had experienced sitting in Stephan’s lap as that amazing phallus worked away in her anus. The hallucinatory drugs she had taken had made the experience quite surreal.

She wiped herself and kicked off her pantyhose and panties. She picked them up and studied them. A knife-like incision had been cut in the seat of her panties and pantyhose. How had Stephan’s penis been able to rend such a precise hole? Wendy had men tear open her pantyhose before so they could fuck her and she conceded that the cock-sized hole could be made by a penis if it was pushed hard enough against the flimsy fabric. But her panties were satin. Stephan would have had to cut that precise little hole in them with scissors or a knife and she had no recollection of him having either.

Were his fingernails that sharp? No. She distinctly remembered asking him if she could remove her pantyhose and panties and Stephan replying ‘No need my dear, nor do I want to’ before he penetrated her.

Her panties and the seat of her pantyhose were sodden and she bought them to her face. The musky smell of semen pervaded her nose. There was an undercurrent of something else, not quite pleasant. Wendy had douched before she dressed so she knew she wasn't responsible for the dour odour. Suddenly she no longer wanted to touch the garments and she threw them in the corner.

To her delight she found that the water was clear and hot and she shucked out of her dress and stood under the shower and thoroughly cleaned herself using the fragrant liquid soap in the dispenser. She dried herself using a soft fluffy bath towel and then wrapped it around her. She brushed her teeth twice and rinsed with mouthwash.

She brushed out her straight raven-black shoulder length hair with the indigo highlights that some of the frat boys teased William about, accusing him of being a closet Goth. This amused William because none of them guessed that he was actually a closet transvestite. If any of them suspected none of them had articulated it to him.

The next problem Wendy faced was clothing. Should she present as Wendy or William? She was certainly not going to put on those fetid cum-sodden pantyhose and panties and her witch’s dress. She looked at the pathetic breastforms lying on the vanity and sighed. What was she to do?

She went back into the bedroom and flicked the light switch and was not really surprised when the overhead lights failed to illuminate. She tried the bedside lamp and it lit with a feeble yellow glow. A huge armoire stood against one wall and Wendy opened it. She was surprised to find that it held an abundance of ladies clothing but there was no male clothing.

The suspicions and cynical side of her wondered if Stephan had planted the clothing there so that she had no choice but to dress as a woman. Did Stephan want to defile her again? Did she want him to?

She conceded that in in any event the only course of action to her was to dress enfemme. How would she explain the change of clothes when she returned to the frat house? That was a problem to solve when and if she ever got out of this decrepit and bewildering house.

Wendy went back to the bathroom and was not surprised to find a fully-stocked makeup case in the cupboard under the vanity. She studied her face in the mirror and examined her bruised and cut lip where Stephan had bit her in the throes of passion. She went to work with concealer, foundation and powder. She did her eyes, rouged her cheeks and put on ruby-red lipstick. She applied heavy makeup appropriate for the evening.

She found a bottle of Poison perfume and doused herself liberally.

Wendy decided that she would wear something sexy, sleek and alluring, in keeping with the Halloween theme. She would say to anyone who saw her before she got to her room at the frat house that she was wearing another Halloween costume. The frat house Halloween parties went on for days anyway and most of the students continued dress in Halloween costumes.

Wendy opened a pair of expensive, flesh-toned, fifteen-denier hold up stockings and slid them up her legs. If Stephan intended for her to ‘borrow’ the clothes in the armoire she intended to use the best of them. She found a pair of red full-cut spandex panties which she slipped into. She tucked her penis between her legs knowing the tight underwear would keep it in place. She found the matching bra and looked over at her breastforms which were sweat stained and looked sad. She tossed the bra aside and selected a dress.

She found a red figure-hugging satin backless evening gown that was split on one side from hip to hem. The garment felt luxuriously decadent when she slipped into it. It moulded to her body and it looked incredible on her even with her own meagre breasts filling the bodice.

She would have to wear the high heels she had worn last night but that was fine. She never once considered the coincidence that the clothes in the armoire fitted her but later she would wonder why they did.

There was a cracked and heavily de-slivered full-length freestanding mirror in the corner of the room and even in the poor light Wendy could see that she looked stunning with her heavy makeup, her slim body swathed in the burgundy evening dress, a gossamer sheathed leg protruding from the side-split. Even her black high heels didn’t distract from the elegance and downright sexuality she presented.

“Hardly the best clothing to escape a haunted house but what the fuck, it won’t hurt Stephan to donate something to my collection,” she joked.

Then the reality of the situation hit her. She still had no idea where she was and she didn’t have her cell phone. Wendy panicked briefly until she found her little clutch purse on the bedside table. She opened it and found her student identification, her house keys and cash were still inside. She would go downstairs and use the phone to call a cab and get the fuck out of here whether Stephan was there or not.

Were cab companies able to trace calls to their location? If Stephan wasn’t home, which seemed unlikely, maybe there was a letter or something with the house’s address on it in on the secretaire in the drawing room. She recalled that there was certainly a pile of papers of some description scattered on the desk.

There were some memories of last night that she recalled and pushed away: Stephan’s impossibly long arm reaching down to her ankle, his forked tongue, his scaly coiled penis and the coldness of his ejaculate. All explained away by the effects of drugs and alcohol but all so vivid and real.

Wendy shivered briefly, snatched up her purse and made her way to the bedroom door. She no longer wanted her witch’s costume and she certainly didn’t want her sodden underwear; the breastforms could easily be replaced. She just wanted to get out of this house.

The door opened onto a long corridor that seemed to go on forever. The corridor was lit by yellowing light coming from haphazardly placed wall sconces. The walls weren’t quite straight; nothing in the house seemed to be square or level. No wonder Stephan intended to sell the house, it was ready for demolition.

The floorboards creaked and groaned under her as Wendy made her way down the corridor. She heard scuttling sounds and quiet moaning from behind a door and a shiver ran down her spine. She tentatively approached the door and put a shaking hand out towards the doorknob.

Just as she put her hand on the knob someone lightly caressed her shoulder.

Wendy jumped.

She spun on her heels but there was no one there.

“Shithouse mouse!” she gasped, trembling, her hand still on the doorknob.

The noises behind the door ceased. She rattled the door knob but it wouldn’t budge.

“Are you ok in there?” Wendy whispered.


She tapped on door.


“Are you ok?” she whispered again.

“GO AWAY!” the voice was deafening and the walls reverberated, a fine mist of plaster dust fell from the ceiling and dust motes filled the air.

Wendy squatted on her heels with her hands over ears until the sound dissipated.

“Fuck this!” she whispered and got to her feet.

She continued down the corridor intent on getting out the house as quickly as she could.

She heard soft footsteps behind her but when she turned she could see no one. A cold zephyr caressed her like she was passing through an arctic shower; icy fingers lightly caressed her shoulder. The footsteps receded down to the very end of the corridor where they stopped.

A young woman suddenly appeared. She was dressed in a flowing white gown of indeterminate age; it seemed to drift and wallow around her. She was shoeless; the feet of her white stockings were dirty and shredded. Flaming red hair floated around a face that was both beatific and horrifying.

Her eyes were soulless staring vacantly back at Wendy and then her features transformed and she reached out, stretching, beseeching and her eyes adopting an imploring look. She opened her mouth wide in an ethereal scream and suddenly vanished.

Wendy gathered the hem of her gown in her hands and ran down the seemingly never-ending corridor and finally came to a wide spiral staircase. She was tempted to remove her heels before descending but she didn’t want to spend any more time on the upper floor of this wretched house.

Fleetingly she wondered if she was just experiencing the after effects of the drugs she had taken but she didn’t think so. If anything, she felt sober and alert, her senses heighted. Her fight or flight responses were highly attuned.

She gripped the balustrade and began to descend, supressing the urge to run. A fall on the stairs would have dire consequences. She hung onto the railing with both hands and side-stepped down the stairs one at a time. The staircase gave way to an open foyer tiled with harlequin marble covered in a fine layer of dust. A faded plush pink gossip bench sat beside a cedar telephone table. Wendy began to cry when she saw the ancient Victorian telephone.

She raced over to it, dropped her skirts and lifted the handpiece from the cradle and put it to her ear.

The silence as deafening.

“That telephone doesn’t work Wendy.”

Wendy screamed and dropped the phone at the sound of Stephan’s voice.

She started to sob and Stephan put his arms around her and comforted her. He was wearing blue silk pyjama bottoms and a vermilion silk smoking jacket.

“I just want to go home. Please let me go,” she wept.

“There, there, Wendy. What’s all the fuss? Of course you can go home. Come to the drawing room and use the phone,” Stephen started to guide Wendy towards the door.

“Where are you taking me? Let me go! Let me out of this house!” Wendy pushed him away.

“Wendy darling, you’re obviously upset. You passed out after we made love so I put you to bed. I see you found my sister’s clothes in the armoire. Not quite appropriate for a hike along country roads but you do look delightful in them,” Stephan said soothingly.

“Of course you can leave but we are a long way from Haxa and the roads are awful. You're hardly dressed for the journey by foot,” Stephan remained calm.

“How far? How did I get here? What time is it? What fucking day is it?” Wendy screeched at him.

“I’d say ten miles to the outskirts of the town proper and I have no idea how you got here. It’s around nine PM on the first of November. I tried to rouse you several times during the day but you were dead to the world; a little too much Halloween spirit perhaps?” he smiled at her and Wendy was once again struck by how incredibly handsome he was.

“Who else is in this house? Who’s upstairs?” Wendy was shaking with rage.

“There is no one else here Wendy. It’s an old house and the weather outside is terrible. The house creaks and groans and moans all the time,” Stephan said nonplussed.

“I saw someone! I heard someone!” Wendy hissed.

“Really Wendy? What drugs did you take yesterday? Could you be hallucinating?” Stephan opened his hands in a bemused gesture.

“What about the bedroom I slept in? The clothes, the makeup? What's the story with the bathroom?” Wendy put her hands on her hips.

“That was my sister Elizabeth’s room. Long ago I started to renovate the house for her and she insisted that I start with her bathroom, you know how women are?” he gave her a consolatory smile.

“I’m afraid she is no longer with us. When she died it broke my heart and I allowed a house that had already been neglected to descend into the ruin you see now,” Stephan bowed his head and Wendy could feel his sorrow.

“That’s all well and good but could we please get me a ride to Haxa right now,” Wendy said indignantly.

“Certainly. Come to the drawing room and you can place your call. I’ll make coffee and light refreshments, you must be famished,” Stephan pointed to the drawing room door.

Wendy’s stomach growled but she had intention of drinking or eating anything in this house.

She followed Stephan into the drawing room where the coals from the fire warmed the room and went straight to the secretaire and lifted the handset from the ancient Bakelite rotary-dial telephone. She half expected the line to be dead but she heard the electronic buzz of a dial tone.

Wendy realised that she didn’t know the number for a taxi company but Stephan had anticipated this and was thumbing through a telephone directory.

“There we are,” he put the directory down on the table opened at the page for Haxa’s two taxi services.

Wendy's fingers shook when she dialled and it took her three attempts.

“Haxa radio taxis what is your intended destination?” asked an officious elderly female voice.

“Saceur College campus,” Wendy said in a choked voice, relieved to be talking to someone outside of this house.

“And what is the pickup address?” the lady asked.

“Address?” Wendy looked at Stephen anxiously.

“Dakhanavar farmhouse, it’s off route nine south of Haxa,” Stephan replied, an amused look on his face.

Wendy repeated the address to the dispatcher who seemed miffed at having been given such vague directions.

“Yeah, ok, I got it. It’s gonna take a while doll, we don’t get many calls that far out in the boonies and most of the rides are busy. Fucking Halloween weekend you know and those college kids are all too drunk to drive and what with this fucking weather… pardon my French,” the matron did not sound at all conciliatory.

“As soon as possible please,” Wendy said beseechingly.

“At least an hour I’m guessing doll, they are still cleaning up that bad accident on route nine. I’ll call back on this number when I have a car heading your way,” the dispatcher hung up.

Wendy was sorely tempted to wait outside for her cab but she could hear the wind howling and the rain lashing against the windows. The drizzle had turned into a tempest.

“So how long, my dear?” Stephan asked when Wendy replaced the receiver.

Wendy was reluctant to tell him that her cab would be at least an hour. As much as she wanted to leave the house she found herself extremely and undeniably attracted to him.

“It will be a while Stephan. I’d like to remain here in the drawing room until it arrives if I may,” Wendy said soberly.

“My house is your house,” Stephan gave an expansive gesture that might have been comical except for the staid set of his face.

“Just the drawing room please,” Wendy sat demurely on the Chesterfield, crossing her ankles.

Wendy didn’t like being in this house at all but the drawing room seemed to be the safest place. Other than the appearance of the ghostly wraith while she and Stephan were having sex, there had not been any apparitions in this room and she believed the wraith was a manifestation bought about by the shrooms and the MDMA she had taken.

“Let me get you those refreshments I promised,” Stephen walked to the door.

“Wait! Last night you said that except for my trick or treating colleagues you’ve seen no one. How could the students get all the way out here and why would they?” Wendy asked.

“There is no conspiracy Wendy. They came out here in an old minivan. They were quite rude. They said they had come to see a haunted house on Halloween and I think they were surprised to find the house occupied,” Stephan paused at the door.

“I think they intended to party here… to do what students do when boys and girls have imbibed intoxicating substances.”

“I offered them refreshments but they called me names; quite vile names. They pelted the door and drove away laughing. They should have been more polite Wendy; such bad manners have consequences,” Stephan turned away and left the room.

Wendy didn’t like being left alone in the quiet room. She thought she could hear whispering and the patter of bare feet from the floor above. The discordant music had returned and was coming from somewhere deep in the house. Whether it was her imagination or not she wanted a distraction, some form of noise.

She noticed an ancient Zenith television in the corner. It had rotary dials and knurled knobs for horizontal and vertical hold and volume. Wendy doubted it worked but she went over and turned it on anyway. The screen filled with white noise and the speakers emitted scratchy static. She reduced the audio so that it wasn’t hurting her ears and slowly spun the UHF dial hoping to find a free-to-air television station.

Wendy found a local news channel although the picture was snowy with wavy bars of static running through it. The weather was playing havoc with the reception.

‘The Highway Patrol are still investigating a fatal accident on route nine on the outskirts of Haxa. Four occupants of a Volkswagen Kombi were killed in the crash and another remains in a critical condition in the intensive care ward. They are all students at Saceur College.’

‘Police suspect that alcohol, the weather, and high speed are contributing factors, although the accident occurred on a straight clear stretch of road. Traffic is being diverted around the crash site while investigators remain at the scene…’

Wendy snatched off the TV.

‘They should have been more polite Wendy; such bad manners have consequences’ Wendy shuddered despite the warmth of the fireplace.

How could Stephan possibly have anything to do with the accident? It was miles away from the house.

Stephan returned with a silver tea tray to find Wendy still sitting on the Chesterfield. He set down the tray and poured coffee into a single cup.

“You’re not having any?” Wendy asked.

Stephan screwed up his face.

“Not for me; I have an eclectic palate,” he offered Wendy the cup and she drank from it greedily despite it burning her tongue.

Although the array of hors d'oeuvres on the little platter looked delicious Wendy found that she had lost her appetite.

Stephan sat beside Wendy and studied her. He seemed amused.

“So what shall we do while we wait for your taxi?” he reached out and stroked her hair.

Wendy pulled back from him and set down the coffee cup.

The last thing on Wendy’s mind was sex but Stephan Trompeur both scared and excited her whenever she was in his presence. She studied his brutally handsome features, his slim and muscular physique, his symmetrical face, his black hair and indescribably penetrating eyes. Wendy felt herself being drawn to him.

His jacket was open and she could see his pale hairless chest with defined pectorals. She wanted to reach out and trace the contours of his muscles. She wanted to stroke his cheeks and caress his lips. She wanted to put her hand inside his silk breeches and find him concupiscent and eager.

This man was an enigma, she found him both attractive and repellent. He enchanted her.

Wendy found herself becoming tumescent.

“Tell me about your sister,” Wendy needed to deflect.

Stephan sighed wistfully.

“What can I tell you? She was the light of my life. She was beautiful, caring and loving,” Stephan looked pained.

“My grandfather came to America from Europe and settled on this farm long ago. My mother died in childbirth and my father couldn’t stand the pain of her loss and took his own life. My sister and I were raised by my grandfather,” Stephan whispered.

“You and Elizabeth were twins?” Wendy touched his hand.

Stephan nodded.

“Growing up we had only each other. We were outsiders, foreigners, people didn’t understand us… our traditions… our way of life. So we kept to ourselves,” Stephan continued.

“But children grow up. I moved to New York and Elizabeth found a man whom she thought understood her and loved her but he treated her badly so she returned to the farm. During our absence we let the house decline but when Elizabeth and I returned I started to renovate it.”

“Then one day I came home and found Elizabeth stabbed through the heart by her ex-lover who still had the stake in his hand.”

“I was left to do what I could. This house had too many bad memories for me to live in it so I put it on the market but no one would buy it. It fell into further ruin but eventually I was able to sell the farm and vineyard. The new owners will raze the house and build their own.”

“And so you find me. Heartbroken and forsaken, mourning the only woman that I ever really loved. Packing up the memories and ephemera of the past,” a single tear fell from Stephan's eye and rolled down his cheek.

Wendy was suddenly overcome with sympathy for Stephan. Spending time in a house alone filled with the horrors of the past must be heart-breaking.

She reached out caught the tear on her fingertip. She stroked his cheek.

Stephan cupped her hand and bought it to his lips and kissed her palm. He pulled her to him and she went willingly, moulding her body to his.

They kissed and she winced at the pain from her cut lips but it soon dissipated as her desire began to bloom.

She reached into his jacket and stroked his firm smooth flesh, tracing the curves and hillocks of his muscles. Stephan caressed her neck and his fingers began a familiar journey down her body until he found the split in the gown.

“That was Elizabeth’s favourite dress,” he muttered through their compressed lips.

It was a strange thing to say Wendy thought but the notion dissipated as Stephan began to caress her thighs, his fingers stroking the soft flesh above her stocking tops. Wendy’s hand fluttered across Stephan’s hard belly and untied the cord at the top of his pyjamas. She reached inside and freed his penis.

She broke the kiss and looked down at the rampant organ: the translucent skin, the pulsing veins, the pink spongy glans, it was a magnificent specimen. Wendy disengaged from Stephan and kneeled on the cushions and lowered her face to the dripping appendage. Stephan put his head back on the sofa and watched Wendy take him in her mouth.

She slavered at his manhood, working her lips up and down the shaft and used her tongue on his glans. This was not Stephan’s preferred sexual activity, he would much rather just pierce her with his rampant weapon and take his pleasure that way but he was amused by this girl’s fascination with oral sex and it did feel quite delightful. He would not let her swallow his burden however, he needed to plant his seed inside her to meet his needs but for now he let the pretty young ladyboy suckle his cock. It did feel quite exquisite.

Wendy laboured away at Stephan’s engorged penis and just like yesterday his precum flowed freely and continuously and she had to continually swallow. Not that she minded performing this chore but his pre-ejaculate was cold rather than the warm secretions she was used to. It tasted different too, spicy and exotic. Whatever it tasted like she enjoyed sucking the meaty phallus and her own engorged penis was pressing tightly against her panties.

Wendy felt Stephan’s fingers crawl along her thigh, making its way to the bulge in her panties where they stopped and began to stroke her trembling cock through her silky fabric. He teased her that way until she was whimpering and then he freed her and began to softly stroke her to full tumescence.

She worked harder on Stephan’s cock, lashing it with her tongue, flicking it across his fraenulum and making him gasp. She took as much as she could of him in her mouth and suckled the swollen appendage.

Stephan was approaching extremis but he couldn’t waste his seed in Wendy’s mouth. He ripped her face out of groin and picked her up bodily and dropped her on the sofa. He spread her legs wide and fell on her.

“Let me…” Wendy was about to ask to take off her panties but again Stephan’s cock sliced through her undergarment like a razor though silk.

She felt his bloated glans press on her sphincter; he was squirting precum like a dog on heat, lubricating her puckered bud and then her drove himself deep inside her.

Wendy screamed as he stretched her sphincter to its full capacity and fill her anus with throbbing cock which writhed and wriggled like a living entity. Wendy didn’t know how Stephan was able to do such things with his penis but she didn’t care, he was eliciting waves of pleasure from deep in her anus, his bizarre phallus was able to massage her prostate whilst drilling deep inside her.

Wendy clung to him as he fucked her hard and fast. She wrapped her stocking-sheathed legs around his torso and hung on to him while he rode her. She could feel his penis changing shape inside her, feel the smooth scales on his shaft grating so divinely on her sphincter as his cock spiralled in and out of her back package. He kissed her, a hint fetid breath immediately replaced by sweet nectar. His tongue forked and wriggled and squirmed inside her mouth.

She felt like she was violated both orally and anally and she loved it. The passion and lust, the yearning and wanting overcame any hesitation or uncertainty. She just wanted Stephan to keep making her moan with pleasure, to keep ravaging her anus, to keep violating her mouth, she wanted to be corrupted by this mysterious, inexplicable man.

Stephan rose up, tearing his lips from hers, his face stained and filled with lust, his eyes red, his mouth distended. He howled like a demon and his whole body convulsed as he drove himself deep inside Wendy and ejaculated. Wendy felt his cock judder and become bloated as it pulsed and writhed inside her filling her with his icy-cold spend.

He lowered his face to her neck and she felt his needle-like teeth piece her neck and Stephan sucked her blood as it flowed from her alabaster skin.

Rather than hurting her, his bite evoked a rapture that was both compelling and exhilarating, she had never felt such bliss. A monumental orgasm surged through her entire being, the epicentres being her penis and her anus. She flooded her panties as intense rings of pleasure radiated from her anus and her throbbing cock.

She thought she caught a glimpse of the soulless red-haired female apparition hovering over them; watching them. A disembodied wraith suspended in the air circling the lovers as they came to the pinnacle of their lust. Then she blacked out.

Stephan stood over Wendy’s comatose body and looked down on her. She was splayed out on the Chesterfield, her pretty face peaceful in sleep, her dress open wantonly, her legs spread lewdly, her panties sodden and a trickle of blood running from the puncture in her neck. He leaned down and licked away the blood and kissed the wound which closed, leaving only two faint scars. He put his mouth to her groin and sucked as much of Wendy’s semen out of her panties as he could.

He felt a presence beside him and a female apparition briefly coalesced. She was no more than a distortion of the light but her shape was discernible through the flowing white gown, her legs clad in white stockings, dirty and frayed. When she moved, things behind her appeared bowed as if looked at through distorted window glass. Her beautiful face framed by her swirling red hair appeared to be smiling. She uttered a single ethereal word.


Then she vanished.


Wendy woke up with a start. She didn’t think that she had been asleep that long but it was a deep dreamless sleep. She looked anxiously at the phone but it refused to ring. How long had it been since she had called the cab company?

She was alone, lying on the sofa. Someone, Stephan of course, had put a light blanket over her. Her lips felt bruised and her anus ached. She could feel that her panties were damp.

How could she have succumbed to Stephan’s advances again? The man was irresistible, she was enamoured with him but all that would soon end. Her cab must be arriving soon.

She tossed aside the blanket and got gingerly to her feet. She felt beaten and ravaged but she also felt satisfied and content. The lovemaking was aberrant but irresistible, violent but tender, passionate and addictive. She needed to get out of this house.

She noticed a pair of red satin panties laid out over one of the arms of the couch. Stephan must have considerately brought them down from Elizabeth’s room for her. She took off the full-cut spandex panties she was wearing and slipped into the satin panties. The panties she had been wearing when Stephan had ravaged her were damp with her semen and a precise little hole had been cut in the seat through which he had entered her. It was puzzling but not really important. It was time to go.

Wendy went out into the harlequin tiled foyer to see if she could find Stephan but he was nowhere to be seen. She would not remain in the drawing room where Stephan seemed to be able to seduce her at a whim. She would wait here for her taxi, seated on the faded plush pink gossip bench and wait for the telephone to ring in the drawing room and then step outside to flag down her ride.

She sat thinking, listening to the house creak and moan in the wind, listening for Stephan’s footsteps somewhere in the house but all she could hear was the jangly discordant music coming from upstairs and there was no way she was going up there to investigate it.

Her gaze passed over the staircase and then she noticed that the door to the spandrel, the triangular space underneath the stairs, was ajar.

Her curiosity got the better of her and she went over to investigate. Inside was an old steamer trunk, some picture frames stacked one atop the other and a pile of old newspapers.

She picked through the framed pictures and stopped when she came to a faded photograph of a beautiful young woman with flowing red locks, alabaster skin and full red lips. She was dressed in a flowing white silk gown that couldn’t quite disguise the slim figure and buxom breasts concealed beneath it. She was wearing white stockings and shoes. The picture was timeless; it could have been taken last year or last century.

Wendy put the picture under the dusty dimmed bulb so she could read the inscription: Elizabeth Trompeur - 1970

That was impossible. Stephan was her twin and the woman in the photograph had to be in her twenties. That would make Stephan in his seventies and he was definitely was not.

Then it dawned on her. The woman in the photograph had to be Stephan and Elizabeth’s mother; his sister must have taken her mother’s name. But even if Stephan was born ten years after the photograph was taken he would still be in his forties. Was he really that old? Wendy had to admit that it was hard to tell.

She put the picture down, it was all too confusing and it made her head hurt.

She picked up a newspaper from on the top of the heap and her heart stopped when she read the headline.

Man Found Murdered In Haxa Farmhouse

Donald Anstis, the estranged partner of Elizabeth Trompeur, was found dead in her Haxa farmhouse. The cause of death was multiple stab wounds inflicted by large knife found at the scene. Both Stephan Trompeur and his sister Elizabeth are missing and police are desperate to speak to them both about the incident.

The article did not say anything about Elizabeth had being killed. It was dated 7th August 1970

None of this made sense to Wendy. She lifted random copies of the Haxa Journal from the pile. They were dated roughly one year apart and each one contained the story of a missing person who had inexplicably vanished without a trace. The oldest copy was dated 1866.

“We only take one a year to sustain us,” Wendy turned to see Stephan standing in the doorway of the spandrel.

He was still wearing his silk pants and smoking jacket, his skin as pale as freshly poured milk. Fangs protruded over his thin blue lips, his eyes had been transformed from their deep blue to a mingling of violet and cobalt that was softly iridescent.

Running or screaming seemed pointless.

Wendy collapsed and Stephen lifted her in arms as easily as picking up a baby. He took her down into the cellar, the door closed behind him without him touching it.

When Wendy came to she found herself lying on a wooden altar in the middle of the cellar which was lit by flaming torches fastened to the brick walls. She was naked except for her stockings.

“Some call us Vampire, Nosferatu, Draugr, Ghoul, Jiangshi, Lich, or Vrykolakas. Others call us Succubus and Incubus which is probably more accurate, although mortals have never depicted us as we really are. We refer to ourselves simply as ‘eternals’,” Stephan leaned over the altar and gently stroked Wendy’s hair.

Wendy found herself unable to move, she lay prone on the altar and followed Stephan with her eyes as he strode around the room.

“Elizabeth and I shared the bedroom upstairs in which you awoke. It was there, just after our eighteenth birthday that we were transformed into eternals. The transformation occurred over three nights when an eternal partook of our bodily fluids and we of his,” Stephan adjusted a stone figurine at the head of the altar.

“Being orphans we were perfect candidates for eternal life. Our parents were gone and we were cared for by our grandfather,” Stephan came back to the altar and looked down on Wendy.

“Your own grandfather turned you into a Vampire?” Wendy found her voice although she was still unable to move.

“Don’t be silly Wendy. Elizabeth and I were lovers, have been lovers, all our lives. We parted when Elizabeth met the mortal Donald Anstis who she stupidly fell in love with but she couldn’t keep her immortality a secret from him, nor the means by which we maintain our immortality,” Stephan replied.

“Donald Anstis was shocked when he found out what Elizabeth really was. He went searching for her to take revenge and assuage his guilt for having loved such a creature. He finally tracked her down to this house and killed her, driving a stake through her heart. The stupid mortal didn’t realise that he had only driven her out of her lifeless body; that her soul survived, waiting for another vessel to enter. I killed Donald Anstis and went into hiding, ashamed that I had been unable to keep my sister safe.”

“I returned to this house to help my beloved sister find a suitable candidate for her to inhabit. During my travels I acquired a rather eclectic taste in women and became fascinated with special women such as yourself,” Stephan leaned down and kissed Wendy with his cold lips.

“Wait. This makes no sense. Elizabeth died in 1971. Those newspaper articles go back to 1866,” Wendy whispered.

“On the same day that Robert E. Lee surrendered only his Army of Northern Virginia at Appomattox courthouse, we surrendered our souls to the eternal right here in this farmhouse, only a few miles away. As you can see we do age, but slowly. Elizabeth’s body was taken from her in 1971 and we have been waiting all these years for the perfect replacement and here you are,” Stephan answered.

“But the missing persons?” Wendy followed his movements with her eyes.

“We need to feed. Not often but often enough. Do not feel sorry for them. They experience indescribable bliss before they die,” Stephan said wistfully.

“Elizabeth and I take their bodily fluids slowly over several days, you know how it feels, I’ve been taking your essence for the last two days,” Stephan chuckled.

“Then I’m going to die? You’re sacrificing me?” Wendy felt helpless, resigned to her fate.

“No, of course not my darling. I’ve been giving you my essence too… my seed. Preparing you for Elizabeth,” Stephan patted her head like he was explaining something complicated to a small child.

“And here she is ready to live inside you,” Stephan waved his hand at the ethereal form that suddenly appeared hovering over the altar.

“Then I am to die,” Wendy whispered.

“Shh my darling. You are about to experience the divine,” Stephan dropped his trousers to reveal the huge appendage between his legs.

It was almost indescribable. It looked to be at least twelve inches long and the base of shaft was scaled. It writhed and wriggled and spiralled like a living thing, dribbling a constant stream of silvery fluid. The tip of it was red and it undulated and pulsed.

“Prepare her for me,” the spectre dressed all in white with the flaming red hair hissed.

Stephan approached the altar and mounted it. He opened Wendy’s legs and lifted them high. Wendy was unable to resist, she watched with fascination as the tip of Stephan’s slid through the fabric of her panties like a sharp spike and the pulsing glans pierced her anus.

There was no prolonged lovemaking. Stephan’s cock burrowed its way inside her anus, its path aided by the slippery gelatinous precum streaming from the eye. Wendy gasped as her anus was immediately infused with the most wondrous sensations and she became instantly erect.

Stephan rutted at Wendy, holding onto her thighs. She felt him ejaculate, the icy stream of his spend filling her anus and bringing forth her own climax. Elizabeth’s ghostly form lowered her face to Wendy’s cock and she felt Elizabeth’s ghostly lips suckle her shaft and her gelid tongue lap at her glans.

Wendy’s orgasm was an explosion of pleasure and lust that wracked her body. Stephan’s cock thrust and spiralled inside her anus whilst Elizabeth’s mouth suckled her rampant penis, sucking every drop of semen from her. Elizabeth began to take on a more substantial form and Stephan removed his cock from Wendy’s anus and climbed off the altar to be replaced by Elizabeth who mounted Wendy and guided Wendy’s cock into her vaginal sheath.

Elizabeth's vagina was as cold as her brother’s cock, a frozen tunnel that constricted and collapsed around Wendy’s still-rampant penis. The pulsating vagina illicited intense feelings of pleasure and Wendy couldn’t believe that she was capable of another orgasm but as Elizabeth’s ghostly presence rode her, the folds of her vagina caressing and squeezing Wendy’s cock, she expressed another torrent of scalding semen from Wendy’s phallus.

Wendy screamed with pleasure and pain as Elizabeth adopted a more complete form, revealing her full beauty and the sharp white fangs that protruded over her full red lips. Elizabeth lowered her face to Wendy’s neck and drank her blood.

The most intense and extreme orgasm that Wendy had ever experienced consumed her and then she was gone.


When Wendy awoke she was lying on the huge wooden four-poster bed with the extravagant baroque duvet. She rolled over and saw that Stephan Trompeur was lying beside her fast asleep. She felt different. She felt powerful, she felt omniscient, omnipotent… she felt immortal.

Wendy remembered everything that had happened to her, every event that had taken place in the twenty years that she been alive. But she also had Elizabeth's memories inside her head. A century and a half of recollections that included the first time she and brother made love, the night they were transformed into eternals, her own death at the hand of her ex-lover and her resurrection, blending the corporeal forms of Wendy and Elizabeth. She also remembered the countless victims that she and her brother had fed on over the centuries.

Wendy smiled. The thoughts were not bad; they were just the past.

She walked over to the full-length freestanding mirror and examined herself. She saw Wendy’s pretty face reflected in the mirror but her face was framed by Elizabeth’s flaming locks. She had Wendy’s slim build but Elizabeth’s pert ripe breasts, fuller hips and shapely buttocks.

She hefted her breasts in her hands and they felt right. They were as they should be.

She lifted the white satin shift and peeked inside her underwear. Her cock was coiled like a sleeping snake bulging the front of her panties. As looked at it, it moved of its own volition, the scales gleaning dully in the lamplight. A dribble of clear pre-ejaculate bubbled from the eye.

Wendy smiled and turned around to see her brother was awake, his head crooked on the palm of his hand, looking at her with adoration.

She went to him.

The End

Epilogue: Mary Whitford came out of her coma two weeks after Halloween. She remembered herself, Wendy, the werewolf and Beetlejuice joining the others in the beat-up Kombi and driving out to an abandoned farmhouse to party. She remembered the sole inhabitant of the house to whom they were abusive. She remembered them driving away into the night laughing. She remembered the terrifying apparition that appeared in the windscreen of the van as it hurtled down route nine. And that was all she remembered. She didn’t remember Wendy climbing out of the wreck unhurt, walking back down route nine towards the farmhouse as if in a trance.

87 users have voted.
If you liked this post, you can leave a comment and/or a kudos! Click the "Thumbs Up!" button above to leave a Kudos


well its a little late for

well its a little late for halloween but it definitely fits the genre very creepy.


Snarfles's picture

At the beginning you said you may have failed miserably...I'd say you have blown it, and the story orgasmed and wants more.

no need to fear you failed

this was an excellent story, thank you for sharing it


Unmistakably You!

joannebarbarella's picture

Nobody could possibly think that this was not a Michele Nylons story.

And it had a Hotel California vibe. You can check out at any time but you can never leave.