He drops you off at the haunted house. Before you get out he pats you on the thigh and says, “Have fun.” The wedding ring catches the light from the street lamp.
He is clueless.
You get out of the car. It rolls away into the dark. Entering the light in front of the warehouse you see the bouncer give you the elevator eyes. Your bare legs standing out sharply from the black dress. The October air is chill, but it’s not the reason your skin is covered in goose bumps. Trying to stand proud and tall, not showing your nerves, you approach the door.
“Cute bats.” The bouncer growls.
Swallowing is difficult with your dry mouth. It takes you a moment to remember he means the white cut outs on the dress. You smile, “Thanks.”
“Password?” The same deep growl.
Again you try to swallow past the pit in your stomach. Can you do this? Will you really go through with this? It’s this moment where you decide. After you go in there’s no backing out. Fuck it.
“Trick or Treat. Smell my feet. Give me something salty to eat. If you don’t, I don’t care. You can keep my underwear.”
Oh god, did you just say that?! It was on the card you received. A black envelope with silver lettering. Inside a business card with this address embossed on it. When you put it under a black light the password was there for you to see. On the reverse was the simple statement, “Cum play with us you sexy slut. Your cuck won’t know what happens.” You’ve been anxious since then. Your senses tingling every time you touch the card.
Who could have sent it? How did they know? You’ve been so careful to hid your messages and keep your multiple affairs secret.
No change in the face of the bouncer. His hand reaches over to the door and pulls it open. “Happy Halloween, sweet thang.” And you’re waved in.
Crossing the threshold should feel more . . . you don’t know what. You’ve just stepped into a place where you hope something special will happen, but you don’t know for sure. The door shuts behind you with a solid thunk.
You now stand in a foyer. Red carpet covers the ground. The walls are black and the room is lit by electric candles. A waist height wooden table is the only furniture. On the table is a black shoe box. The lid is open. Inside is a number written on the bottom of the box. 13. A sharpie and a note card are next to the box. “write the number on the back of your left hand. Place your purse, wallet or cell phone into the box. It will be returned to you after you make it through the house.”
In for a penny, in for a pound you figure. After writing the number and placing your belongings inside. You go to the door on the opposite side. The knob turns under your sweaty palm. Opening the door you hear what is clearly a Wal-Mart spooky sounds mix track. The hallway in front of you is covered in hands. Some limp, others posed in grasping or rude gestures. At the end of the hallway is another door. Nothing spooky here.
Not sure what to expect, you start your voyage through the hall of hands.
A quarter of the way down the hall comes the first scare. One of the hands leaps towards you. Previously all of the hands had been attached at the wrist to the wall. Keeping your distance seemed pretty easy. This one extends almost to where the shoulder would be. It reaches for you.
A scream pierces the air. It’s not the phony scream of the sound track. This is your scream. The jolt of fear pushed the sound from your dry throat. The hand can’t quite reach you.
Nervous laughter escapes now. How could you have been scared by that? The oldest trick in the house of horrors book.
As you make your way down the hall the same trick happens. Now that you know what is happening, you think you can spot the real hands from the fake. Almost to the end of the hall now. Free from this lame gag. This is underwhelming. Whatever you were expecting, it certainly wasn’t an ACTUAL haunted house. The card led you to believe that something kinky was going to happen.
The touch shocks you out of your thoughts. As you were dodging a grasping hand on the right, one of the “clearly” fake hands captures your left wrist. Looking at your trapped hand you instinctively move to the right side of the hallway to pull away. The grip is like a cuff of steel. You can’t get way. Another hand snakes out and secures a grip on your right wrist. In a coordinated effort, both your arms are lifted up. The strength in these arms pull you up to your tip toes. The owners of the hands must have been over 6 feet to pull you up like this. And strong.
This time the scream isn’t a short burst. You do yell in terror. You’re held against your will by strangers. Unable to find purchase on the ground. Fighting to get free, your body writhes around. Another strong grip attaches itself to your body. This time you freeze.
The new hand is around your throat. The owner stands behind you. The hand is holding you tight. Not enough to bruise, but enough to choke the scream that was filling the room. A voice whispers in your ear. It is now the only sound in the room. The spooky CD noises have stopped as suddenly as your yells.
“We’re going to take your panties off now. You won’t need them until it’s time to leave. If you struggle, I’ll hurt you.”
His other hand places itself on your left breast. A momentarily squeeze on your tit. Is he playing with you or testing you?
His right hand has not slackened. His left slowly moves down your stomach. It travels over your hip and down to the hem of your black dress. The white bats no protection from this invasion. The warmth of his hand touches your naked thigh. He’s reached past the hem of the dress. The exploring hand now moves North. Your hemline is no protection from the strong fingers. They press into your flesh and travel upwards. Where he expects to find cotton or silk though, he finds nothing. Expecting resistance when probing for your panties, his fingers instead encounter your bare wet sex. The engorged bud of your clit roughly bumped as he tries to find your non existent underwear.
The hand pauses. It’s owner realizes that there is nothing for it to retrieve. The fingers now take their time and explore what you choose to leave exposed. There’s no resistance. How could there be? You’ve been thinking, fantasizing, hoping for this all week. The exploring fingers easily enter you.
While the hand on your throat choked off your scream, it does nothing to prevent the moan from leaving your lips. Your lower lip becomes trapped between your teeth. The probing, no the fucking of your naked sex continues for just a few seconds more. Then his fingers exit you, leaving you empty and wanting.
The digits, coated in your sex are brought up for you to see. They spread and your juices create little bridges between his fingers. “I can’t wait to have my turn with you,” gently floats into your left ear. The warm breath of your attacker causes a shiver to run through you. The other warmth you feel is his cock pressed against your back. The assailant has pulled himself closer. Not humping or rubbing, just pressing. He wants you to know that his turn will come. You will be his.
You feel him step back. That hot press against your back leaving you aching and empty, like his fingers. The grip on your neck vanishes. You’re still on your toes for just a moment. Then release.
You spin, hoping to catch sight of him. The hallway is still empty. The hands that grasped you have vanished too. The holes where they reached for you open but only blackness on the other side.
Your breathing is fast. The heat from your flush shows through the top of the dress and on your cheeks. The taste of what you’re in for was not enough. Need pushes your feet forward. The next room awaits.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticstories/comments/jhmwnl/a_halloween_haunted_house_pt1