Page 12 of Eternity of Horror
I grab the phone and take it with me as I climb on the table with the body, tucking my feet in between his arms and his torso so that when I squat down, my slit is aligned with his mouth. I squeeze his body between my legs to help maintain balance as I reach between my legs and pull his chin down. My other hand angles the phone, giving Osiris the perfect view of my tender pussy hovering over this bastard's mouth. I begin to push.
As soon as he sees that I'm pushing, I hear him groan. The moans increase as urine trickles out of my tiny hole. I muster up all the courage in the world and give one big, hard push. The abrupt force releases a heavy stream of slightly yellowed liquid from my body and into his dead face. A small fart escapes my ass and I can't help but giggle, knowing it has to have filled his nostrils. The sound my ass makes is followed by an even louder moan from the phone. Part of me feels like O might want this same treatment, minus the castration.
I finish relieving my bladder just as his mouth begins to overflow. I hop down and smile into the phone. "How was that, Daddy?" I smirk.
"First off. You are doing that to me next, all of it. And I do mean ALL of what you just did on his face.” He growls with such need it makes my pussy clench. His next words come out on a moan. “Mmm, and you are sosick it makes my cock ache, my Little Corpse Queen. But you're not done, because I'm not done. I want you to fuck yourself with your own fingers. He doesn’t deserve to be inside you, ever. Nobody does. Nobody but me. Do you hear me, baby? Living or dead, I don't want another man inside you unless it also involves me." The ownership he just took of me makes my knees almost give out. "Now climb up onto his chest, dip your fingers in your piss, and fuck yourself until we cum together." His final instruction.
"Yes, sir," I say as I grab the sheet that is used to cover the body. I do not want my bare skin touching this man, and I KNOW Osiris feels the same. I lay the sheet across his chest before climbing back up and sitting down. My weight on his chest forces the remaining air from his lungs, causing him to gargle my piss. I giggle again, the smile getting more evil by the second. I hold the phone so the masturbation material Osisris is using to get off right now is in plain view.
I pull my gloves off before I slide two fingers down my pussy, and for the first time tonight, I’m able to fully feel just how drenched this horror show has made me. The warm sticky fluid coats my bare skin as I spread it around my cunt, making sure to lather my clit up slow and firm. My orgasm is already biting its way out. I remember part of O's instructions: to dip my fingers in my piss. I glance into his open mouth and see my pee now mixing with purge inside. I slide my wet two fingers into the multi-colored pool and pull them out with the same grace before returning them to my pussy. Themixture is hot to the touch, and it sets my clit on fire. My eyes shoot back to the phone where I see a gorgeous man furiously fucking his cock with his fist. Pumping up and down, gliding so easily from all of his pre- cum.
"That's it. Cum for me, my Little Corpse Queen. Cum all over his dead fucking body so I can shoot my load for you!" he growls at me. So eager and demanding. His ferocity sends me spiraling over the edge, and my pussy clenches tight as I orgasm. Juices pour out of my entrance and darken the white sheet under me. His hand pumps rapidly before he lets out the most guttural growl. Simultaneously, he erupts the prettiest white ropes of cum I’ve ever seen. My orgasm shakes my entire body again, lasting longer than any I’d ever given myself before. "Such. A good. Fucking. Girl," he says in between labored breaths.
I smile as much as I can in between trying to find oxygen. This is something I never even dreamed would happen. The sick and twisted fantasies that have carved themselves into my brain could never have imagined this. Sharing this moment with someone. Finding someone to share this with. Someone as fucked up as me. What is this? Is it... love?
Chapter 11
Osiris
The cool autumn air bites at my skin as I finish setting up a drop panel located in a hallway that connects two rooms. These scares are simple but effective. You know it's coming, yet, when it happens, it still gets most people every time. I have this hallway lined with old picture frames. Some have paintings in them, some are just wood because it's a haunted house so nothing has to be perfect. The one containing the scare has a painting of a demented clown and is at about shoulder height for me, but at eye level for Lilith.
My cock throbs, letting me know that if I continue any train of thought containing that precious little psycho, all productivity for the day will go out the window. And I have a lot to do today. I put the final screw in the back of the panel, moving from behind the scenes and into the hall to check how it will look for myguests. Perfect. Everything is almost set and ready to open.
The faint whimpers of my 'actors' mix with the natural symphony of crickets, birds, and twigs breaking under my feet as I walk away. I want them to look broken, bloody, malnourished, covered in bug bites, and soaked in desperation. So I just let them rot in the elements, uncovered and unclean, for the months it takes me to finish setting up. It's about a week until show time, so now is when I’ll stop feeding them. I smirk at the thought of how much pain they’ll be in when they finally die.
I make it to my car and the closing of my door silences the ambient sounds, turning up the thoughts in my head that were once muted by my surroundings. I drive in silence. Letting myself become consumed by the ideas of what I am going to do, fantasies of who will come through my haunt, and... her. She’s a new ingredient in my recipe for mayhem. An unexpected treat. I find myself palming my cock over my pants while driving back to my place. Grumbling to myself, I wish I could just go fuck her teeth loose instead of what I need to do right now, but all in good time.
Once back at my place, I gather the materials I need for promotion: a couple small vials of blood, collected from my basement full of test subjects, a scalpel, duct tape, and a few flyers I pieced together detailing how to find the haunt. The night before I open, I'll mark a few trees with red X's, forming a little trail of breadcrumbs for the mice to follow.
The sun dims like a dying candle as it sinks below the horizon. Faint whispers of orange and pink kiss the darkening skies as I start getting my costume on for tonight. Who wants some normal-looking man coming up to them in the dead of night and inviting them to an exclusive extreme haunted house? That's just weird. I stipple white makeup across my face as I stare at myself in the mirror. The eyes staring back at me begin to look more like my true self as my flesh is adequately covered. I don't watch my hands as they work, just my eyes, letting the evil within decide how he wants to be visually represented this evening. A stippled streak of blue down one eye, purple down the other. Black around my lips, and finishing with a gargle of fresh blood before tilting my head back and slowly forcing the liquid out of my mouth so that it can choose its own path down my face, chin, and neck. I let out a soft moan when I finally look at what I've done. Exquisite.
The smell of dirt and death wafts in my face when I open the suitcase containing my costume. I pull out each article of clothing, all handmade, and set it out on my bed. Seeing my costume for the first time each season always gives me goblins in my stomach. The anxious excitement spills into my bloodstream and pumps the contents of my veins in double time. I sing to it as I exchange what I'm wearing with what I've made. My once-white shirt is now a coffee-stained yellowish brown from years of dirt and sweat. Random splatters of blood lead to a massive, deep red stain right around my belly. What once were brown shorts are now almostblacked out from the sheer amount of death that has happened in my lap. Its texture has worn away from a clean soft fabric to a dried, crunchy material from the viscera that's been cemented into the threads. This type of costume distressing is priceless.
Shirt on, pants on, suspenders on, and gloves on. Last but not least I fix my clip-on bow tie in the mirror and admire the creature that stands before me. Some would say it's just me with a costume on. But, by putting these clothes on, I'm actually taking off the costume that I wear eleven months out of the year.. I am finally ME. And me is fucking delicious.
I findmyself around the corner from a local bar, tucked neatly away in an alley. I wonder if this is the same alley where Lilith took that man's life. How wonderful that would be. Behind a dumpster, I sit on the damp, cold cement and peer around the side of it. There are specific types of people I like to invite to my show. They usually travel in packs, are the most obnoxious and loud groups wherever they go, and their absence will absolutely be noticed. I want people who will be missed. People with friends, a social media presence, and families. Why kill a loner nobody is going to notice or care about when you can kill someone who's loved? Like throwing a severed head into a pond, the ripples will span far and wide. I getthe satisfaction of butchering someone and the sheer pleasure of knowing there will be many, many broken hearts. Maybe she has kids and didn't know when she kissed them goodnight it was going to be the last time. Maybe he has a wife at home that argued with him about going out with his friends again, making the last conversation they had a bitter one. The possibility of dismantling so many lives with the sweet, simple act of murder was enough to make my cock drip in my piss-stained underwear.
The sound of voices approaching pulls my attention back to the sidewalk that stretches out in front of me. Laughter and drunken speech laced with swears and foul language are blurted out louder than what would be deemed socially acceptable in a public place.The sound feels like dropping heavy rocks on sheet metal. These may be the ones.
A crooked grin appears on my face as I rise to my feet and begin to walk toward the sound. My plan was to meet them at the entrance of the alley and do my little song and dance. Equal parts silly and scary. Just what people would want in a scare actor. But my feet are cemented to the ground beneath them the moment I hear her name. A girl’s voice spits it from her mouth like it is laced with rat poison. The laughter and degradation that follows from the rest of the group causes my head to tilt harder to one side until the bones in my neck crack. These are the friends Lilith told me about. The ones she bailed on to see me the other night. The ones that I now have verbal confirmation hate her fuckingguts and are using her for her money. My smile that was once pulled up on only one side of my face has mirrored itself into a full grin. I have found my group.
I near the entrance to the alley as they meander past. Definitely too fucked up to even notice I'm there. I step out behind them and start to follow, the yellowish street lights guiding the path down the otherwise darkened sidewalk. Rage bubbles in my chest as they continue to desecrate Lilith's name. The visceral urge to cut slits into their soft belly skin and use the new holes to fuck my seed into their guts for being so disrespectful is challenging for me to keep at bay. Luckily for them, I am on a mission. One that involves them being the VIP guests at my haunted attraction. So they get to live, for now.
Their conversation shifts in my favor when one of the little cunts blurts out that she wants to go somewhere spooky. "Not some like *hiccup*... little bitch place. Like a real scary place," she says to the group in a drunken babble.
"Bitch, you can't even watch horror movies without closing your eyes," one of the guys bites back with a laugh. The others chuckle as the girl presses her middle finger to his forehead. "Is that an offer or your I.Q.?" he says in response.
"What are you fuckin twelve? When you hit puberty gimme a call cuz I don't fuck little boys," the girl spits back. The rest laugh harder. My fucking head hurts listening to them. Ever so subtly I interrupt with a screaming maniacal laugh.
"Haha, scary, you say? Hmm." I put on my clowneyvoice as they screech in response to being startled. The guy who was just talking shit falls to the ground, pure fear dripping down all of their faces. "Well kiddies, do I have just the place for you. You see, my name is Necro the clown, and I was just let out of a very, very scary place just to invite but a small number of new friends to come play. This place is unlike anything you have ever seen before. Hehe, I promise you that." I move from person to person as I speak, getting uncomfortably close, watching their faces contort from the stench emanating from my costume.
"Jesus Christ, dude, calm down," one of the girls barks at me. I can tell by the authority in her voice that she is the leader of this group of fucking idiots.What did Lilith say her name was? Oh... that's right.
"I'm sorry, Scarlett. If you're too scared I'm sure you don't have to join your friends. My playground isn't for pussies," I taunt her. The surprised look on her face tells me not many people talk back to her like that. Watching her die will be the most satisfying.
"Excuse me? Who the f…" She steps toward me, but her words are clamped in her throat by my hand as I grab her neck and slam her against the wooded wall of the storefront we happened to be in front of. One of the guys puffs up and is about to charge when I pull the scalpel from my pocket and point it at his stupid face.
"Uh, uh, ahh. Unless you want to go trick or treating as a shredded piece of paper, I would back the fuck off. Respectfully." I giggle before turning the blade to Scarlett. Turning it sideways and caressing her cheek withthe flat side, her eyes widen as she stares into mine, realizing that the weapon I wield is real. I tick an eyebrow up with a smirk. "Against the wall! All of you!" My playfully silly tone turns gravely and wicked. The fear bubbles from their lips as they whimper while quickly following my orders.
