Challenge 35: KINKTOBERFEST!

October 1

THE CHALLENGE

Pick one of the three topics listed for today's date. Write and post every day. Make it short or long, innocent or sexy, sweet or salty, whatever hits the spot. If you don't feel the kink list, try to spooky list below.

Ass Worship | Spanking | Wax Play
Voyeurism | Rimming | Body Swap
Tentacles | Necrophilia | Knife Play
Gags | Cunnilingus | Bukkake
Bondage | Sixty-Nine | Vibrator
Blow Jobs | Suspension | Masks
Leather | Humiliation | Aphrodisiacs
Oviposition | Creampie | Tights
Pet Play | Scissoring | Costumes
Face Sitting | Multiple Partners | Hate Fucking
Mirror Sex | Formal Wear | Sadism
Lingerie | Cross-Dressing | Biting
Pegging | Nipple Play | Dirty Talk
Fucking Machine | Feet | Fuck or Die
Cuckolding | Food Play | Hair Pulling
Shibari | Hot Dogging | Uniforms
Boot Worship | Lap Dances | Scars
Glory Hole | Vehicle Sex | Blood
Clothed Sex | Double Penetration | Prostitution
Sex Work | Masturbation | Teasing
Edging | Size Difference | Tit Fucking
Watersports | Deep Throat | Morning Sex
Corset | Collaring | Threesome
Begging | Anal | Exhibitionism
Monsterfucking | Shower Sex | Latex
Breath Play | Orgasm Denial | Fingering
Distracted Sex | Xenophilia | Armor/Mecha
Spit-Roasting | Overstimulation | Incest
Hand Jobs | Oral Fixation | Hard to Get
Edgeplay | Degradation | Interrupted Sex
FREE DAY!! Write Anything! | Any Combination of the Above | Aftercare

Shadow Creature
Haunted House
Shapeshifting
Ghost Town
Darkness
Pumpkin Patch
Graveyard
Ghost Ship
Werewolf
Vampire
Zombie Horde
Labyrinth
Exorcism
Coffin
Asteroid Apocalypse
Serial Killer
Forest
Apocalypse
Crossroads Payment
Demonic Possession
Seance
Incubus
Sold Soul
Mad Science
Abandoned Building
Decaying Zombie
Alienfood
Horned Being
Disembodied Hand
Ancestor's Curse
Kidnapping

Deadline

Every day by midnight. Post your response to item 1 on Oct 1, your response to item 2 on Oct 2, etc. If you miss a day, no big deal! Post when you can!

Limits

1 entry per person per day, but feel free to enter every single day!

Prizes

No contest, every entry wins! For every day you post a response to the prompt, you get 100 credits! Valid until I run out of credits!

October 1

Spanking, Shadow Creature

The shower had been a necessity after the botched summoning. I knew I shouldn't have listened to Ian. If he had his way, he'd summon a horde of imps to gang rape me just so he could watch. He'd call up the hounds of hell to fuck me just so he could witness bestiality firsthand. He liked to watch. He'd summon an incubus and watch it fuck me into oblivion. Come to think of it, there would be worse ways to go. But this time, we had reached out, he thought to summon our living shadows, but he had been wrong. Nothing arrived. We were naked and covered in ash for no reason. I'd washed it off, let the hot water run down over my body much longer than was required.

What had I gotten into with Ian? Magic had been something private and perfect, something just for me, something sensual and personal. But then I'd read the book, learned of the power of a coven, of including others and their power into my magic. But for it to work, the intentions had to be shared, and the strongest intentions Ian and I shared were purely sexual. As such, so was almost all of our combined magic, whether it was what we set out to do or not. It had been overwhelming, but also so fulfilling, so insanely passionate. I'd been unable to stop. I was caught up in him, his magic, his intention. I knew I'd have to end it or it would go too far, but... maybe just once more.

As I stood there naked, having just toweled off after a shower, the shadows moved on their own. I shook my head, blinked my eyes. Had I seen something? I looked into the mirror. Everything seemed normal. The shadows hadn't moved. I had been imagining things. But then the room grew darker, the temperature dropping, as the shadows gathered into one mass. The bathroom grew cold and eerie.

It took me a minute to realize what I was seeing. The shadows began to form a humanoid shape as they came out of the walls. They crept closer, moving around the room, circling me. My heart raced, my throat going dry, but I stood there, afraid to move. The thing came around in front of me, but I could only stare. It was like staring into utter darkness. I couldn't see anything, and yet, I could see it all. The shadows were a dark mass, and as I watched, they formed limbs. And then they took shape, more human-like, changing into something else. I had to blink to make sure I wasn't imagining things.

I was looking at a woman made of shadow. But not just any woman. It was me, a perfect, shadow copy of me, standing naked, as I was, her body made of pure darkness. Her skin was an indistinct blur of shadows, her nipples like black rocks, her mound a darker, deeper black than the rest. The shadows that formed her hair were wisps of fog that reached curled around her face and hung down to brush the tops of her breasts. Her eyes were deep pools of black, and she stared at me with a look of hunger, her lips parted. Her nipples hardened, her breasts rising as she breathed.

I gulped. It was what we'd meant to summon. A shadow version of me. I had just a moment to wonder if Ian's shadow version were visiting him right now, too before she moved closer to me. I took a step back. I didn't know if I could trust the shadows, and I didn't know what it wanted.

My bare feet slapped against the tiles of the shower. I felt vulnerable, naked and vulnerable, and I backed away from her, although her black eyes never left mine. The shadows followed. They surrounded me, moving in a circle around me, darkness around me. I continued backing up, the cold tiles under my feet.

She didn't try to touch me. She just stood there, watching. And then she moved, walking closer until she was on top of me. She loomed over me, the black, dark body casting a shadow over mine, the indistinct blackness of her flesh covering mine. She breathed deeply, her breasts rising, her nipples hard. And then she lifted her hand to her face.

I was expecting her to run it down her breasts or over her mound, but instead, she brought it down to my shoulder, to my right arm. She ran her fingers across my skin, the dark shadow of her fingertips leaving a trail of cold behind them. My nipples hardened, my skin goose bumping, but it wasn't from the cold. I reached up to take her hand, to stop her, but I couldn't touch her.

I just stood there, helpless, staring into the black depths of her eyes as she looked down at me. She held her hand over my arm and ran her fingers down to my elbow. Her touch was so gentle, her fingertips trailing down my skin. Her eyes flashed and she looked at me with a sudden hunger that left me breathless. She moved her hand to my breast. I expected her to cup it, to run her fingers across it, but she didn't. Instead, she brushed it, her fingers moving against my nipple. The shadow of her fingers pressed into my skin, hard like rock. The pressure made my breath catch, the feeling so intense, so sharp. I was shocked at how much it hurt, and yet, I wanted more. I wanted more this delicious pain. If only...

I cried out as she pinched my nipple, twisting it. And then she let it go. My nipple stung, my whole breast throbbing with pain. But it was the kind of pain that I liked. It made me wet.

She ran her hand down my stomach, over my mound, down the inside of my thigh, to my knee, where she gripped me. She held my legs in place with that ice cold shadow grip, and the other hand pushed my chest and face, forcing me to move forward, and then she moved behind me. I couldn't move as she held my leg in place and pushed my torso toward the wall. I was on the tips of my toes, her hold on me strong. She forced me against the shower wall, waist curved back, my ass pushed out, her shadowy grip hard in my hair as she pulled my head back. My breasts pressed against the tiles. She was still standing behind me. What was she going to do to me with my ass up, my hands on the tiles...

My face pressed against the cold, hard surface of the tiles, and I breathed heavily, my breath fogging in the shadowy cold. And then she ran her fingers across my ass. I could feel the cold, hard shadow of her fingertips as they moved across my skin. I could feel every sharp indent of her fingernail, every slight pressure she applied. I shuddered, my breath leaving me.

And then she spanked me hard across the cheek, the pain sharp, my ass stinging.

"Fuck!" I yelled, and she did it again.

She didn't give me time to catch my breath before she did it a third time, her shadowy fingers slapping my ass cheeks, the pain burning me. I gritted my teeth.

She spanked me again and again. I let out a guttural groan as she did, my eyes watering. I tried to straighten myself, to push up off the tiles, but she the hand in my hair held me firm, cheek and breasts pressed hard against the tiles. My arms were splayed, my fingers curling. I had nothing to hold on to, no way to stop her. She just spanked me, over and over, hard and painful with that icy shadow hand.

"Fuck," I groaned, my ass stinging, my pussy aching. I wanted her to touch me there, to run her fingers across my wet, aching pussy. To run them through my slit, to fuck me with her fingers. To tease my clit. To bite it. I wanted more. I was sweating, and I didn't even feel cold anymore. But she just kept spanking me, over and over.

"Please," I moaned as her hand struck my ass again.

"Yes," she said in a deep voice, her tone commanding, as she spanked me again. "Beg me."

My breath left me, my mind going fuzzy. I couldn't think. All I knew was the humiliating pain of that hand on my ass, the helplessness of being in her cold grip as she spanked me. The pain was sharp, but it was so good, and it mixed with pleasure. The more my ass hurt, the more my pussy throbbed with desire.

My eyesight went hazy as her hand came down on my flesh again and again, my mind swimming. I needed to come. I needed to come so badly. My toes curled against the floor, my back arched, and I screamed. But before the orgasm could come, she stopped. My body begged for release from this insane buildup. I begged her out loud.

"Please," I cried, knees shaking with desperation. "Please!"

"No," was all she said and she stopped spanking me. She let go and I collapsed to the tile floor, catching myself on my hands and knees.

"Fuck," I groaned, my ass on fire, my desire unsatiated. My fingers slipped against the tile. My limbs were heavy, my body so sore.

The shadow creature ran her hands across my back, the black mass of her touch move up my back, into my hair, around my neck. As I blacked out, I wondered if this was the end for me, or if she would keep me alive to torment again.

October 2

I was busy with another thing, and wanted to get something out before midnight in my timezone. VERY rushed, and I originally intended to do a totally different idea involving a shadow monster keeping a power plant shut down to prevent being destroyed, considering it was a creature of darkness and a huge power outage was going on because of a storm. Maybe one day, I'll make a refined version.

"Running away won't save you. Just give up, human," a voice echoed all around as a woman ran down the cavern path. She occasionally looked back to see if her pursuer was coming after her, but generally kept her focus on the path in front of her. After a sharp left turn, a shadow stretched along the ground and rose out of the ground, grabbing her leg and dragging her to the ground. The lantern she held flew out of her hand and smacked against the cold ground. Slow footsteps echoed through the cavern while the woman tried to break free from the shadow's grip. She managed to break free only for the path ahead to be blocked by a wall of earth.

"I told you that escaping would be impossible," a man's voice rang out. The woman turned around to find a man in black holding a sinister tome in his hand. In the faint light of the broken lantern, she could see that the man's shadow had been replaced with a shadow creature of some kind. She assumed it was a result of the dark magic tome in the man's possession.

"Do you like it? This creature, born from the darkness itself, has given me great power," the man said.

"You've given yourself over to a dangerous power, you know? Master would be rolling in his grave if he could see you now." the woman shot back, but the man could only laugh at the thought.

"That old man would never be able to understand!" the man shouted, the shadow creature behind him reacting to his sudden change in emotion by lashing out at the woman, lightly cutting the side of her face with a shadowy claw. "That stupid fool wouldn't understand the power giving yourself to the darkness can provide. I was able to overcome you, after all, his favorite student," the man continued.

"But now, I'll give you a true example. You will become one with the shadows," the man said. He laughed as the shadow creature slowly loomed over it's new prey. She had little time to react before she was dragged into the shadowy creature, leaving nothing behind.

October 2

Oct 2 - Haunted House, Body Swap

Leah looked up at Ian, wondering if it was true. We all wondered, I think, until we heard Raven's voice sounding small and pitiful across the circle.

"No," she said, her voice one of defeat. "No... what have you done?" She looked around at the three of us around the circle, then at Ian towering over Leah.

"You bitch!" She stood, staring at Ian. "I didn't agree to this."

Ian turned to look at her, though now we all knew it was Raven in Ian's body. "What's the matter, warlock? You know you've wanted Leah to suck your cock since you met her."

Raven's face flushed. "Get out of my body."

Ian's hand moved to the back of Leah's head. "C'mon Leah. You said you're not a lesbian. You said you wished I was a guy so we could fuck. Well, guess what?" He smiled down at her. "Raven is a man right now, and Raven wants your lips on her cock."

Leah seemed like she was uncertain, but reached one hand out tentatively to touch Ian's cock.

"Don't do it," Raven's voice said from across the circle, and it seemed to encourage them.

Leah opened her mouth, took the tip between her lips, licked around it, sucked it in. Ian's eyes almost rolled back into his head and he let out a sound like he was about to orgasm already.

"Fuck yes!" he cried out, and his hands went to the back of Leah's head. He held her there, slowly driving his cock into her mouth deeper and deeper until it was buried in her throat. She made wet gagging sounds and her eyes watered, but Ian fucked her face like he'd never fucked before. Because it wasn't Ian, it was Raven, using his body, using his cock.

"It's amazing!" he said.

Raven started across the circle with intent. Luna and I stood, met her in the middle of the circle, and each took an arm.

"Raven is in charge," I told Ian in Raven's body. "She won't do anything with your body that you wouldn't want to do. She's going to fuck and then give it back. Relax."

I don't think Ian was capable of relaxing as Raven, in his body, face fucked Leah. He wanted it to be him.

She seemed surprised when she came, Ian's body jerking and spasming as he held Leah's face to his crotch, filling her throat with cum. I don't think he realized that his cock was the first she'd ever taken, and that he had filled her throat and she swallowed it. I'm sure that realization would have angered him. If his dick was going to be in someone, he wanted to be in control of it. It served him right for all the times he'd let me be possessed, let men or women fuck me to please one spirit or another.

Raven in Ian's spun to face Ian in her body. As Ian, she towered over her own body.

"I'm fucking hot," he said, checking out his own body. "Come on now, Ian. You've always wanted to know what it's like to be a woman, to be fucked by a man. Don't forget, you let me inside your head. I know what you want."

Raven shook her head. "No, you don't... I don't..." But he did. He'd told me before. If he were a woman, he'd want to be plowed from behind, fucked without mercy as someone kissed his neck and held his hips. He was clearly remembering the same thing, because it took little effort to push Raven's body to the floor, and when we did, Ian dropped down onto all fours in her body, ready for what was to come.

Ian stepped up behind Raven, got down behind her, and grabbed a fistful of hair. Raven's body was pulled back toward Ian and Ian's voice whispered into Raven's ear, "Remember when you told me to go fuck myself?"

She eased Ian's cock into her body. We heard him gasp through her lips. He had no idea what to expect. She gasped through his lips. She also had no idea what to expect. As often as they'd both fucked, this was a first for both of them.

Raven abused her own body with Ian's. She fucked him like she hated him, driving deep and hard, pulling her own hair, pinching her nipples in a vice grip that made her own voice scream through the empty house. Ian's voice cried out too. Raven fucked him harder than he'd ever been fucked, and he liked it. He liked it a lot.

He screamed his enjoyment, his submission, his desire for more and more with Raven's voice, and she complied. She fucked him mercilessly.

Over the course of the night, we all took turns, each of us inhabiting Ian's body, each of us fucking all the others, and fucking Ian when he was in our own body. It was surreal, looking down into my own face as I drove a penis, my penis for the moment, into my own body. I was tight and hot and honestly, not my favorite lay of the evening. That honor went to Luna, whose body responded to my thrusts as Ian in ways none of the other women did. In fact, when she inhabited Ian, the way she fucked me was so amazing I didn't want it to end. There was a connection there.

When we all returned to our own bodies, Luna and I shared a look, and something more. The dynamic of the coven definitely shifted that night.

October 3

// I know this is late but I still wanted to start with Oct 1st too.

1– [Ass worship | Shadow Creature]

The kitchen was warm, alive with the scent of dough, butter and sugar, sweet and suffocating, the lazy light of the afternoon spilling in through the windows in amber streaks. Matilda moved through the heat, her dress clinging to her damp skin, her bare feet padding softly on the cool tiles. Flour dusted her fingers, her cheeks as if it's smudges of innocence in a world too full of her, full of him. The dough beneath her hands gave easily, her movements rhythmic, unaware of the presence that lingered just behind her, watching, wanting.

Vesper had watched her for so long. He had slipped through the cracks of her life, unseen and unfelt, a shadow that had taken root in every dark corner of her house, in every dark corner of her. He was watching her again, as he had done every day, every night, slipping through her life like an unseen parasite. He had been content...no, not content, but restrained. He had held himself back for what felt like lifetimes, hovering just outside her reality, a breath away from breaking through.

But this afternoon, this heavy, endless summer afternoon, had shattered him. He could no longer bear it—the warmth of her, the easy way she moved, oblivious to the weight of his gaze, to the black mass of hunger that consumed him from the inside out. She bent over the counter, her hands slick with butter and flour, and his vision narrowed, tunneling in on the curve of her ass, the fabric of her dress pulling taut against her skin. His restraint crumbled, collapsing into dust.

His form stretched, formless yet solid, a ripple of shadow that twisted and shifted with a life of its own. The shadows around him thickened, darkened, curling and twisting in the air like smoke, and still she didn’t notice. She was too caught up in her own world, too wrapped in the simplicity of baking, of living.

But Vesper had other plans.

He let his fingers materialize first, dark tendrils of shadow that hovered just above her skin, trembling with the desire to touch, to take. He had waited so long for this, had dreamed of it in the long nights he spent watching her, imagining what it would feel like to press himself against her, to feel her warmth, her softness. He was on the edge, teetering between wanting to possess her entirely and the need to tear everything else away until she was nothing but his obsession made flesh.

He couldn’t wait any longer.

She turned slightly, her face caught in the golden afternoon light, completely unaware of the dark force lingering behind her. She wiped her forehead, leaving a small smudge of flour across her skin, and he wanted to reach out, to wipe it away, to stain her with something far more lasting than flour. The first touch was barely a whisper, the lightest brush of his fingertips against the curve of her hip, but it was enough to send a shiver through her body. She paused, her hands stilling in the dough, her breath catching in her throat. Her eyes flicked around the room, searching for something...someone, but there was nothing, just the thick silence and the growing sense of unease that prickled at the back of her neck.

Vesper grinned, if such a thing could be called a smile. His touch grew bolder, his hand sliding down the curve of her ass, slow and sensual, savoring the way her body tensed beneath him. He leaned in closer, his breath or what passed for it, brushing against the nape of her neck, cold and possessive. His eyes were on her ass again, and he wanted nothing more than to worship it, to press himself against her until there was no separation, no boundary between shadow and flesh.

“Did you think I’d keep hiding forever?” His voice was a low rasp, barely more than a whisper, but it filled the room, thick and oppressive. "Did you think I’d keep watching you from the shadows, waiting like some obedient dog?"

She froze, her body going rigid as his words sank in, the reality of it crashing down around her like a wave. But it was too late, he was already there, his hand gripping her now, fingers digging into the soft flesh of her ass, pulling her back against him, against the shifting mass of shadows that clung to him like a second skin.

“You feel me now, don’t you?” His voice was a growl, closer now, more insistent. His hands gripped her hips, pulling her back against him, against the cold mass of shadow that had taken form behind her. “I’m done being patient, Matilda. You don’t get to pretend I don’t exist.”

She tried to pull away, but his grip tightened, holding her in place, pressing her harder against the counter. His other hand materialized, wrapping around her waist, pulling her closer, until she could feel the cold, dismal weight of him against her, the darkness seeping into her skin, crawling beneath it, marking her as his.

Vesper’s hands roamed, possessive, worshipful, his fingers trailing over her hips, her thighs, tracing the lines of her body as if he was committing them to memory. He had waited so long for this moment, had watched her for so many endless nights, and now she was his. Completely, undeniably his.

“You thought you could go on living, didn’t you?” he hissed, his voice sharp now, cutting through the heavy air. “You thought I would just keep watching, keep waiting. But no, Matilda. I’m done waiting.”

His fingers dug into her flesh, harsh now, punishing. She gasped, her hands gripping the edge of the counter, but there was no escape, no place to run. He was everywhere, in the walls, in the floor, in the very air she breathed. He pressed harder, his body a cold, oppressive pressure against hers, suffocating in its intensity, in its need.

“You think you can pretend you’re innocent, that you’ve done nothing wrong. But I’ve seen everything, felt everything. Every thought, every movement… every smile you’ve given to those men when I should be the only one you think of.”

Vesper’s fingers trailed down her back with a slow grace, his touch cold as it traced the curve of her spine, as though he were memorizing her, branding her with every caress. His grip tightened, firm yet unsettlingly gentle as he hiked the hem of her dress higher, revealing more of her bare skin to the heavy, suffocating air of the kitchen. Matilda’s breath came in shallow gasps, her heart pounding in her chest, the sensation of his touch sending waves of icy heat through her body.

"I’ve waited long enough," he growled, his voice low, vibrating with barely restrained rage. "No more pretending. No more games. You’re mine, and I’m done letting you forget that."

He knelt behind her, his dark form shifting as he pressed his mouth to the small of her back, his cold breath sending shivers up her spine. His lips, barely there, ghosted over her skin with reverence, as though he were worshiping the very ground she stood on. He exhaled, a quiet, predatory sound of desire, a barely contained hunger that had been simmering for too long.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice softening, filled with an unsettling awe as his hands caressed the swell of her ass, fingers spreading over her flesh, possessive, claiming. “Every inch of you, Matilda. You don’t know how long I’ve waited to feel you like this… to take what’s mine.”

Her body trembled under his touch, her knees weakening as his hands spread her cheeks, the coolness of his shadowy form pressing against her exposed skin.

“You belong to me” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper as he pressed his face between her thighs, his breath cool and damp against her most vulnerable place. He inhaled deeply, greedily, like a man starved, lost in the scent of her. “No one else will ever get to worship you like this. No one else will ever touch you the way I do.”

Matilda whimpered, her hands gripping the counter, trying to ground herself, but the darkness of Vesper’s presence made it impossible. He was everywhere, consuming her, drowning her in the livid pit of his possessive love.

"You’re mine, Matilda," he growled, his hands kneading her ass, his breath hot against her. "Every curve, every breath, every sound you make… belongs to me. I’ll make sure you never forget that."

His lips brushed against her again, pressing firmer this time, his tongue flicking out to taste her skin. Each kiss, each caress, was an act of worship, but there was no gentleness behind it—only raw possession, a need so deep it had hollowed him out from the inside. He would consume her, he would make her his in every way possible.

Vesper’s hand came down again, a sharp, stinging slap that echoed through the small kitchen, and Matilda gasped, her body jerking forward. He chuckled darkly, the sound sending shivers through her, his fingers tracing the redness that blossomed on her skin.

"You will remember me, Matilda," he breathed, his fingers digging into her skin, his need for her almost unbearable now. "Even if you try to run, you’ll never escape what we are. You’ll never escape me."

2– [ Rimming | Haunted House ]

The air inside the house was thick, cloying with a strange humidity that seemed to seep from the walls. The shadows, long and grotesque, warped themselves into unsettling shapes, figures that moved when you weren’t looking, faces that seemed to appear, then dissolve into nothing. The night pressed against the windows like a living thing, heavy and suffocating. It was the kind of dark that made you feel watched, made you doubt the safety of your own skin.

Victor could feel Eli’s panic before he even saw it. It was in the shallow rise and fall of his chest, the way his hands trembled at his sides. The house was alive, feeding off of it, off the way Eli’s eyes darted around the room, his lips slightly parted as he tried to steady himself. The darkness pressed in, crawling up their skin, seeping into their minds.

They had only been inside for a few hours, but it felt like days. The walls seemed to pulse, the floor creaked underfoot without either of them moving. Somewhere in the house, deep in the shadows, there was a sound; like a door opening, or a breath being drawn. Victor’s eyes lingered on Eli, watching how his fear manifested in the way he stood, shoulders tight, every nerve on edge. Eli’s gaze darted around the room, never landing on anything for too long. The house fed on his terror, its presence more than just a physical space now, it was alive, pulsing with their fear.

“Eli,” Victor whispered, stepping closer, his voice low but steady. He could feel the cold sweat on Eli’s neck as he pressed against him, hands gripping his waist. “It’s just us. Don’t let it get to you.”

Eli flinched, but didn’t pull away, his breath shaky, uneven. Victor’s touch was firm, grounding him, pulling him back from the edge. But it wasn’t enough. The night seemed endless, the tension unbearable. Victor had to do something to distract him, to break through the haze of fear that was consuming them both.

Victor’s lips brushed the back of Eli’s neck, his breath warm against the chill of the house. "Let me help you forget," he murmured, his voice carrying a dark, seductive promise.

Before Eli could protest, Victor guided him forward, his hands sliding down to Eli’s hips, pressing him into the worn wooden table at the center of the room. Eli’s palms flattened against the rough surface, knuckles white as he braced himself. The air was thick with tension, the kind that made your skin prickle, your mind blur. He didn’t resist, didn’t argue, he needed the distraction, needed to feel anything other than the fear gnawing at the edges of his mind.

Victor dropped to his knees behind him before Eli pants were quickly discarded, his hands spreading Eli’s cheeks with slow, careful movements. The world seemed to shrink to this moment, the house fading into the background as Victor focused entirely on Eli’s body. There was no rush, no urgency in his touch. Instead, every motion was measured, almost solemn, as if he was savoring the very act of touching him.

The room seemed to tighten, the air thickening even more as Victor’s mouth hovered over him, the heat of his breath ghosting across Eli’s skin. Victor’s fingers dug into his hips, holding him steady as he leaned in, his tongue flicking out to trace the sensitive skin between Eli’s thighs. The touch was electric, a sharp contrast to the oppressive cold of the house. Eli’s body tensed, a soft whimper escaping his lips but Victor didn’t stop.

"You’re safe with me," Victor murmured, his voice low, barely more than a breath against Eli’s skin. His tongue moved with agonizing slowness, exploring, teasing, every flick of it pulling Eli deeper into the sensation, away from the fear that had gripped him so tightly.

Eli’s breathing grew more ragged, his fingers clutching at the table, body trembling as Victor’s tongue delved deeper, his mouth working with a practiced, obsessive rhythm. The haunted whispers of the house seemed to fade, replaced by the sound of Eli’s soft gasps, the way his body responded to every stroke of Victor’s tongue.

Victor’s grip on Eli tightened as he continued, his mouth relentless, consuming him, dragging him further away from the fear that had once gripped him so tightly. The creaks of the house, the strange whispers that seemed to come from the walls, all of it faded into the background, becoming nothing more than white noise as Victor lost himself in Eli’s body. There was something raw, something almost animalistic in the way Victor devoured him, every kiss, every lick, filled with the desperate need to distract, to consume, to possess.

"Forget everything," Victor growled, his voice rough and relentless, filled with a dark hunger. "Just focus on me."

The fear that had wrapped itself around Eli seemed to slip away, leaving only the sharp, overwhelming pleasure that came from Victor’s touch. Every movement, every flick of his tongue, was a reminder that they were here, alive, together. The haunted house, with all its terror and darkness, couldn’t reach them now.

Victor’s tongue worked Eli’s body with a brutal kind of tenderness, a worshipful devotion that bordered on obsession. He was consuming Eli, drowning in the taste of him, the feel of his trembling skin under his hands. And Eli—Eli was unraveling, his gasps turning into soft moans as he leaned into the sensation as he let Victor take him apart piece by piece.

The house loomed around them, its darkness still present, but Victor’s mouth was the only thing Eli could feel now, the only thing that mattered. The tension between them was unmistakable, thick in the air, and Victor wasn’t stopping until Eli was lost completely to him.

Eli’s breath hitched as he leaned into Victor’s touch, the world outside their bubble fading into an indistinct hum, the shadows creeping along the walls now merely an afterthought. The air was thick with the scent of wood and something sweeter, something that clung to them like a shroud as Victor’s mouth worked diligently between his thighs, pushing him closer to the edge.

The tension built like a storm inside Eli, each flick of Victor’s tongue stoking the fire, igniting his senses. “V-Victor!” he gasped, his voice trembling, the syllables falling from his lips like a confession. Eli’s hands fisted in the tablecloth, the coarse fabric grounding him as he teetered on the brink of ecstasy.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” Victor murmured, pausing just long enough to send a shiver down Eli’s spine. “So perfect. Don’t hold back.” His voice dripped with dark desire, low and hypnotic, wrapping around Eli and pulling him in deeper.

Eli felt his heart race, pounding in sync with the way Victor’s tongue resumed its relentless pace. Each stroke sent shocks of pleasure radiating through his body, pulling him closer to the edge. “I can’t… I can’t hold on!” Eli gasped, his words a tangled mix of pleasure and urgency.

“Good,” Victor breathed against him, his voice thick with lust. “Let go. Let me take you there.”

Eli’s body responded instinctively, arching towards Victor as waves of pleasure crashed over him, sweeping him away. He felt the heat coil low in his belly, tight and urgent, the knot of his fear unraveling completely, replaced by an intoxicating need.

“Eli...” Victor breathed again, his voice a husky whisper that reverberated in the space around them. “I want you to remember this. Remember that you’re mine.”

With that, Victor intensified his movements, his tongue swirling around Eli, plunging deeper, teasing out every sound, every sigh that escaped from Eli’s lips. The air was electric, crackling with the energy of their connection, and Eli felt himself spiraling. “I’m… I’m close!” he managed to say, his voice trembling, nearly breaking.

“Good,” Victor growled, his tone dark and commanding. “Come for me, Eli. Let it all go.”

The command ignited something deep within Eli, a firestorm of pleasure that washed over him like a tidal wave, pulling him under as he surrendered completely. “Victor!” he cried out, the sound echoing through the empty house, mingling with the shadows that danced along the walls.

As pleasure consumed him, Eli felt the boundaries of fear dissolve entirely. There was nothing left but the warmth of Victor’s mouth, the possessive grip of his hands, and the darkness that enveloped them both, a cocoon where nothing else mattered, not the haunted whispers nor the oppressive shadows.

Victor held him, kept him safe, even as the last waves of ecstasy washed over Eli, leaving him breathless, trembling, his body collapsing against the table as Victor pulled back, a satisfied smile curling on his lips.

“See?” Victor murmured, brushing his fingers along Eli’s back, grounding him as he slowly came back to reality. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. Just us.”

Eli let out a shaky laugh, a sound mixed with disbelief and relief. “You know, I thought we were going to die in this place.” he said, his voice still trembling, but lighter now, the weight of terror lifted.

Victor chuckled softly, leaning closer to press a lingering kiss against Eli’s shoulder. “You’re too beautiful to let anything happen to you,” he replied, a fierce protectiveness threading through his words. “Besides, I’ll always find a way to keep you safe.”

Eli finally turned to face Victor, he could see the resolve in his eyes, a promise wrapped in the shadows that lingered around them. In that moment, the haunted house seemed a little less terrifying, the darkness a little less oppressive, as long as they had each other.

October 3

Day 2 - Haunted House

"It really is just like the old ghost house back home," a girl's voice rang out. After a long trip, Carla and her skeleton knight companion, Jack, had finally reached their destination. A large, run down home that was rumored to be haunted by ghosts. Considering the things Carla had seen ever since being dragged off into another world and obtaining a fragment of the Goddess of Death, a haunted house didn't really surprise her. Those same rumors had said that the haunted house had a gateway to another world inside it.

"There's a place just like this one back in my world. A few kids in the neighborhood went with me and my brother inside the old ghost house on a dare once. Grandma got really mad at us. I've honestly never seen her that angry before," Carla explained as the pair walked towards the old building. Jack kept a bony hand on the hilt of his sword as he listened to Carla's words. Being a mere soul tethered to a skeleton body, he didn't understand much of what she had meant. It had only been recently that a bit of the memories of the human whose body he had been constructed out of rose to the surface, but for the most part, he was still just a skeleton knight.

Once the pair had reached the front entrance, Carla slowly pushed the door opened, listening as it slowly creaked open. Inside, the building was in a clear state of disrepair. Cobwebs were everywhere and there had been a number of holes in the wooden floors.

"I can feel them. My lady, proceed with caution," Jack finally said, taking the first steps inside. Carla responded with a simple nod, following closely behind the skeleton knight. With the building being pitch dark aside from the moonlight coming from the broken windows, Carla kept close to Jack as the pair investigated the old house.

'It's strange. It all looks just like how the old ghost house did, just mirrored. But if everything is the same, then...' Carla thought until she felt a cold chill run down her spine. Without thinking about it, the mark on her hand began to glow and a scythe appeared in her hands. She looked around, but couldn't find any signs of anything. She looked around the old room for any signs of anything suspicious, only to find a chair flying at her. With a single swing, she destroyed the old chair while more furniture came flying at Jack. He unsheathed his weapon and cut through the objects easily.

"We're surrounded," Jack said, moving so he was directly behind Carla. Four pale blue wisps formed in the air in a circle around the pair, circling around them. One by one, each of the wisps took on a more human shape. Their bodies were the same pale blue color as their wisp form along with being semi transparent.

"Well, what do we have here? A human in our lair?" one of the ghosts questioned.

"A skeleton too. I haven't seen one of those around since the days of the Lich King," another ghost commented.

"The human carries quite the unfamiliar aura about her as well," a third ghost said. The fourth ghost said nothing, keeping it's gaze on Carla. When it tried to move in closer, the ghost was cut in half by Carla's scythe. The other three quickly moved away when their companion was destroyed.

"W-what the hell was that?!" the first ghost questioned.

"A human shouldn't have the ability to actually destroy us! That should be impossible," the second ghost said.

"You fools, that doesn't matter. If we can get the human's body, imagine what we can do with it? That kind of power will make us almighty," the third ghost said. The three remaining ghosts returned to their wisp forms and scattered through the house.

"We won't let you escape, human! Not unless you find all of us!" the three ghosts said together at the same time.

And so, the battle in the haunted house with the ghosts inside began.

October 3

October 2 - Rimming/haunted house

Trish walked forward through the pitch black room, it was well past midnight and the only light that she had was the flash light in her hand.

Next to her, her brother Ben shivered with a slight fear as he moved closer to her. He had always been a bit of a baby but that’s why Trish spoiled him. She just found him too precious to say no too.

That is the reason why she was here in this run down house at this god forsaken hour. He had come to her begging that she help him.

He had received a dare for one of his friends to come stay the night at this house, to prove that had the balls to do so.

At the thought of that she rolled her eyes and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. At her touch his shivering stopped.

Looking at her with his big emerald green eyes and overly feminine face, he smiled at her happily.

It made her heart flutter as she smiled back. He was the only man she could love, mainly because of how girly he looked. Trish was well aware of her feelings for but she wouldn’t act on them, she didn’t want to ruin what she had with Ben.

”Let’s go Ben, you don’t need to worry.” Trish said as her hand came up and ruffled his hair lightly. “I am more than strong enough to take on anyone.”

She had the right to be confident, she stood at five foot even but she was pure muscle. She had abs you could shred cheese on and biceps the size of melons.

She flicked her red hair behind her, which was put up into a thick pony tail. “Let’s go look at this ‘ghost’.” She said with air quotes.

That was the other reason why she was walking around this house instead of in their double sleeping bag playing a game on her hand held.

There was a loud banging that made both of the jump not to long ago, Trish of course jumped up immediately with her flashlight. And Ben followed simply because he didn’t want to be left behind.

The siblings got to the bottom of stairs, with a brief discussion, it was the decided that they would go up the stairs…well Trish said she was going and Ben agreed reluctantly.

Moving up the stairs they quickly came to the second floor. Flashing their lights to the left and right, Ben look at Trish who shrugged turned to the left and made her that way. Ben who was shivering in fear followed close behind, his hand gripping onto her long-sleeve shirt.

The boards underneath creaked loudly making Trish look down at the floor. Her heart jumped into her throat as she stared not at the floor like she was expecting but a boy half her size.

The boy who looked to be around the age of sixteen or so but his skin and hair was a translucent blue. She could see the floor beneath him.

Her eyes blinked rapidly as she realized that he wasn’t half our size but that a third his body was sticking into the floor below.

It was at this point that Ben who was a good foot and a half taller than Trish noticed her looking down and turned his eyes that way as well.

He was a lot less reserved in his reaction as he screamed in a high pitched voice and tried to jump back. He scream again in panic as he found out he couldn’t move back.

Trish snapping out of her surprise swung a fist at the boy in fear, her other hand shot out to protect her brother who was beside her.

The ghost dispersed into mist which drifted down the hallway and into a closed room that suddenly lit up around the doorframe. At the same time music started playing, coming from the room.

It was old music, from the 1950’s. Trish had heard something like it before it was a love song.

Shaking her head Trish reach down and grabbed her brothers hand. They need to get out of here.

when mage tried to turn and flee her heart froze when she too realized that she could move backwards. They could only move forward.

The sibling struggled trying to flee , until both were panting from exertion. It was then that Ben shaking in fear clutched at her hand like it was his only life line.

”It’s okay Ben, I’m here.” She said her voice more brave than she felt. She was on the verge of shaking in free herself.

”L-let’s go forward.” Trish said as she took a step forward.

She had to drag Ben forward who wasn’t even fighting against her. He just held on to her hand tears in his eyes.

It felt like it took them forever to reach the door. In which it opened as soon as they got near it.

Inside the brightly lit room, was a fully decorated bedroom. There was a large king size bed that looked like it was made of clouds with how soft it looked. On the bed was the boy from before, but this time he looked a lot more lively than before, with his tan skin and black hair. He was only wearing a pair of boxers, showing off his tone body.

Moving into the room their eyes meetly snapped to the side where movement happened.

Standing in front of a wardrobe was a half naked woman who looked virtually identical to the boy on the bed. Trish could only guess that they were brother and sister.

The woman turned her head to the two and smiled. She closed the doors to the wardrobe and faced the siblings. Her breast hanging out openly before the two. That made both of the siblings blush lightly as they looked at her openly.

”My you two look….odd.” She said her smile turning amused as she took in both of their night clothes.

”Sister be nice to our guests.” He said his own smile creasing his face.

”please come in, come in” he said waving at them.

Trish and Ben, unable to go anywhere else took a few steps in. They could do nothing as they hear the door shut behind them.

”Wh-who are you?” Ben asked finding his voice before his sister could.

The girl grinned as she stepped forward to them. She held her hand out to Ben who looked like he was about to jump out of his skin.
“I am Sara and that is my brother Luke.” She said before Adding in a gentle tone”Don’t be shy, I won’t hurt you.”

Ben looked at the hand before his sister who could do nothing but shrug. Slowly reaching out his hand he took her hand.

She pulled on Ben’s hand and led him to the bed where her brother laid. “Don’t enter my bed with you dirty shoes.” He said with a frown.

”our bed!” Sara said to Luke with a wink.

That made Trish blush when she realized that that these two were an item. She looked between the two almost envious.

As if sensing her emotions the two looked at her with a knowing look, it made her blush even more.

Ben didn’t notice the look as he was taking off his shoes.

”Oh please take these off as well.” Sara said wrapping her arms around him and tugging at his shirt and pants. “You won’t be need them soon.”

Ben face flushed as red as his hair as he cast a look at Trish who was just as red. The two ghost siblings started to laugh at their expense.

Ben was hesitant at first but did as he was bid. He started with his shirt and removed it with a glance at the woman who moved away from his shoulders. He than removed his pants with out the briefest of hesitation, a look towards his sister.

He didn’t have any underwear on so when his sweat pants left his hips, it showed off his pale white butt to his sister. At the sight of it her heart started to flutter and her body started to heat up in arousal.

That surprised her as she had seen her brother naked many of times but never felt this way before. It was then that she suspected something was influencing her.

Ben crawled on to the bed and sat down his hand covering his lap. Trish surprised saw that he was already standing at full mast. That too made her body grow heat up.

Luke look at her and smiled, “you hold yourself back, why?” His sister crawled onto the bed as well right next to Ben.

Trish shifted uncomfortably as she notice Ben trying and failing not to look at her out of the corner of his eye.

”I-I…because…because we are siblings.” She said struggling to find her voice.

”so?” Luke said his arms lifting wrapping around Ben. His hands moved down his body in a very sexual manner.

That simple gesture made Trish’s blood burn with jealousy and envy so much so that she had already moved forward and grab the ghost by the wrist in her powerful grasp.

That made both ghost grin at her, and Ben who was shivering to look up at her.

”If you don’t claim him we will.” Sara said her own arms wrapping around Ben. She let go when Trish snarled at her in a very feral manner. “Oh my!” She said putting her hand over her mouth and started to giggle.

Trish covered her mouth and looked away embarrassed. She didn’t know what to say, she was acting way out of the norm.

”Trish…” a small voice said, drawing her attention. It was Ben who was fidgeting on the bed. He struggled to say the next words, his mouth opening and closing. Finally he was able to speak, “C-Claim me.”

Trish sputtered for a second trying to speak but was interrupted by Ben, his voice more firm then any other time he had ever spoke to her. “Claim me…or get out!”

Trish bit her lip, the way he said that made her crotch heat up and soak her panties.

With a frustrated growl she reach forward and grabbed Ben by the neck, which made the ghost jump in surprise, their hands moving to stop her.

They stopped when the woman kissed her brother deeply, Ben kissed back his arms going around Trish’s shoulders.

Sara and Luke started to smile watching the two happily.

Trish pulled back from the kiss, her teeth pulling lightly at his bottom lip. Trish’s eyes burned as she spoke. “Turn around and present yourself to me.”

Ben nodded and turned around with his rear in the air for her. He was unsure what she wanted to do but he could make a few guesses.

the ghost siblings watched in surprise as Trish hand rubbed at Ben’s cheeks. Spreading them she wasted no time pressing her younger to his boy hole.

She shivered in pleasure at the taste, it tasted like sweat and strawberries. She knew he liked that strawberries and cream body wash. She even made fun of him for it on more then one occasion.

Pressing her tongue in further in she squeezed at his cheeks. When Ben moaned and clench around her tongue Trish went wild in her sudden lust.

Adding her finger to the mix she started to finger him as her tongue pushed in going as far as possible. He lips were pressed firmly against his skin as she tongue fucked his hole the best she could, he fingers moving in and out in time with her meaty appendage.

Trish pulled back and gasped for air that she suddenly realized she needed. To the side of her she felt a body move up next to her. Sara was staring intently at Ben’s slick hole.

”can you teach me?” She asked looking towards her own brother who was now blushing for the first time, his boxers bulging out with his own excitement.

Sara grinned looking back at Trish who was grinning as well. “For you, anything!” She said as she pulled the ghost into a kiss.

Ben had his face pressed into the mattress his body twitching in pleasure as he suddenly realized that it was going to be a long night.

October 3

October 4 - Tentacles/Shapeshifting

Night had just fallen on the largest city in the north, the city of Corlla. The cool night air was filled with fires from the celebrations of the Sverine, goddess of love.

She had sent a messenger to the clerics of the city and had deemed it a holy day in honor of her newly born twin daughters, Xion the goddess of lust and Zion the goddess of desire.

It was then revealed that a divine boon had been cast on the city in conjunction with her daughters. Vows of celibacy had been suspended, wedding vows had been put on hold, and virginity’s are promised to be preserves through magic. Anyone who invoked the name of anyone of the goddess would be granted with the vigor and stamina to last twenty-four hours of non-stop fun.

Dewdrop, the druidic slimenoid walked through the gates of the city unrepeated, the guards long ago leaving their positions to join in on the fun.

Tilting her head in confusion, an act that normally would send shivers through those not expecting the action. Her neck bent at a ninety degree angle, right where her head and neck met. It looked as if someone just snapped her neck.

Not that anyone would believe that, as a slimenoid Dewdrop had no bones to speak of. And anyone who looked at her could tell. Her translucent blue goo showing everyone that she was indeed boneless…as well as organ-less.

The druid righted her head as she headed in further. She hadn’t gone two blocks before she heard the moaning. It wasn’t a small sound nor was it a single one.

Following the sound she rounded the corner and paused in shock her body spasming out of her current shape.

She looked out over the a sea of wiggling and writhing bodies as they committed unless acts of lust and hedonism.

All acts of lust were being committed before the nerve clusters that gave her sight. Men thrust their hips into woman who were right next to men who orally pleased other men. Woman were legged locked together pleasuring each other as each one licked and sucked at several cocks near their faces. Boy’s who were barely considered men thrusted wildly into woman who looked too much like each other while girls of the same age bounce on cock older then they were.

Dewdrop calmed her emotions as she smoothed out herself back into her feminine form. Walking around the mass of bodies she looked around in confusion. She had never seen human’s act like this, they were usually more reserved and restrained than this.

Spotting a tavern the slimenoid made a her way towards it only stopping to step over a rouge couple or two.

From the sounds coming from tavern she guessed what was happening in there as well. Sure enough when she opened the door there was a full blown orgy happening across the floor and tables.

The druid once again tilted her head in that weird way she always does before walking in.

Heading to the bar she noticed that a barmaid was cleaning a glass looking out at the scene with an amused expression.

she was an older lady, probably close to fifty but she held a beauty that rivaled even the younger generation.

She eyed the slimenoid who leaned against the bar. The barmaid raised an eye brow as she looked her up and down.

”Well aren’t ye an interesting thing.” She said placing the glass on a shelf behind her.

Dewdrop looked at her before to the bodies on the floor.

That was all she needed for a question before she started to laugh. “Ye must have been from out side da city.” She said setting reaching back and grabbing the same glass she just put up.

She set it down in front of Dewdrop and poured her a drink. “Some goddess cast a spell on everyone, now everyone is fucking each other.” She said drinking straight from the bottle.

Dewdrop never one to turn down food or drink stuck her finger into the glass. The liquid shot up her arm in an instant, emptying the glass in seconds.

The barmaids eye brows shot up at the sight and she whistled lightly.

“Why not you?” Dewdrop asked pushing the glass to the side as she leaned forth on the table.

The woman thought about it for a moment before shrugging, “no one asked an old bag of bones like me.” She said with a sigh, her face almost wishfully.

Dewdrop grew a mouth on her face just so she could smile at the woman. The lips were in the middle of what should be her face, and it was overly large. Almost two times as long and lips were three times as big.

”why not? you beautiful, older but beautiful …do you wish to sex?” She said as her finger extended out to slightly stroke the human’s own hand.

The barmaid stared at the finger which had extended almost two feet to reach her own hand. What’s more the slimenoid’s hand never moved from the spot she held it at. With a laugh she looked at Dewdrop with an amused smile,

“Ye a bold one, and a charmer.” She gripped the fingers lightly, feeling the warm gooey appendages in between her fingers.

”Ye know what, why not.” She said giving the other a genuine smile.

Dewdrop smiled again wider this time which made the older woman shiver in a weird sort of lust. It was on the very of being creepy but it still spoke to her on some level.

”Names Delie,” she said as she walked around the bar. She still held onto the hand which made Dewdrop’s arm stretch out four or five feet.

Dewdrop stood up and headed after barmaid who started to head to the back room but changed direction mid step. She took them to a empty table in the middle of the room.

”Sverine bless me.” She muttered as she started to strip.

Dewdrop watched as the older woman’s face flushed with heat and she started to pant lightly.

it was like a switch had been hit with her as she tore off her clothes in a hurry. It didn’t take long for the woman to get completely naked.

Dewdrop tilted her head in wonderment, she even smelled different. “What you say?” She asked moving to the table and pushing in between her naked legs.

Delie reached forward and wrapped her arms around the slimenoid, “I encoded the goddess’s name and was granted her boon.” She said as she kissed at the over sized lips. Dewdrop complied with her kissing her deeply, she grew a tongue and pushed it into the woman’s mouth.

the barmaid surprised sucked and play fought with the tongue lightly before pulling back, “Ye tasted like honey!” She said in delight. “I love honey!”

Dewdrop grinned again as she considered what she said. Without hesitation dewdrop spoke the same phrase as Delie.

Dewdrop spasmed As it felt like a lightly bolt hit her. Her goo twitch and swirl in her body as every cell in her body became over charged.

The barmaid who was eagerly pushing herself onto screamed in surprise which quickly turn into a lustful moan.

Dewdrop’s body exploded into a mass of tentacles which engulfed Delie, the tentacles roamed all over her. The tips of each one having a mouth that sucked and nibbled at her skin. A few found her nipples where they latched on with a powerful suction. More than a few pushed their way into her pussy and even her asshole.

Delie moaned loudly which was cut off as one large appendage moved into her mouth and down her throat.

Dewdrop didn’t stop there, her body was filled to the max with entertainment and mana, she created new goo and expanded her body. By the second her tentacles split into hundreds and scattered across the tavern.

The sounds of surprised screaming started but were quickly drowned out by the sounds of squelching and moaning.

Every person male or female had been picked up and held aloft in the air where dozen upon dozen of tentacles with mouths attacked their cock, cunts, mouths and assholes alike. The gooey appendages thrusted in and out of every hold they could find. If they couldn’t find a hole they latched onto a nipple or a cock or a clit or simply just started biting and licking at their skin.

Dewdrop shuttered in pleasure as her goo twitch and shifted erratically, her mass of wiggling genital tentacles claimed new victims as they moved out into the court yard. Her goo dripped excessively, her version of cuming as she pleased herself into oblivion.

during this time three goddesses in the divine realm pleasured themself as they watched their holiday fulfill the needs of a whole city. They were quite satisfied with the cumulated lust and love. Especially the new addition of the slimenoid, that one held a special place in their hearts.

(I posted the wrong date sorry, it was suppose to be the 3rd)

October 3

Day 3 - Shapeshifting

A continuation of the plot from Day 1. I may continue the tale of Geraldo's descent into darkness as we proceed.

It had been about one week since the man, Geraldo, had used the shadow creature born from the Book of Shadows to eliminate one of the students of his old master. He didn't know what happened to her after she had been swallowed up by the shadow, nor did he care. The path he had begun to walk would naturally lead to opposition from his former allies. If they couldn't see things his way, he'd have them eliminated, or even tortured into submission. It was on that particular day, where Geraldo returned to his lair, that he decided to look for more spells within the evil tome to use against his next enemy.

Even with the time he had to study it, there had still been many parts of the Book of Shadows he was unable to decipher. He sat at a desk with the book open, looking over it's worn pages. He knew he needed to master the book's power before a new enemy came to him. His gaze soon turned on a segment he found himself able to read.

"Transformation magic?" he said aloud. A cruel smile flashed across his face as he considered the possibilities of such a power. He picked up the book from the table and stood from his seat. As he uttered the spell from the book's pages, the letters inside the tome began to glow a pale purple. That light soon spread and covered Geraldo's body, covering him in a pale purple light as the spell changed his very form. Once the light cleared up, instead of Geraldo stood an older man dressed in Geraldo's clothes. The man looked down at his arms, far weaker and skinnier than what Geraldo had. The man couldn't help himself from laughing.

"This is perfect! I was able to shift my body's form into the old man's. I could use this to..." the man said, but he trailed off, remembering one important detail. The master was already dead, and all of his students knew it. Every one of them had attended the funeral, Geraldo included. The man smiled, coming up with a new idea as he read off the spell again. Once the purple light faded away again, Geraldo had transformed himself into the woman he had fed to the shadow creature before. As far as he knew, knowledge of her disappearance wasn't common yet.

"This is perfect. Eliminating the others will be an easy task with this power," Geraldo said using the woman's voice. If he had still been his original self, he likely would've been inclined to see what it was like having a female body. With his heart slowly being consumed by the power of the Book of Shadows, however, such a thought never crossed his mind. All he could think of at the time was destroying any threats that stood in the way of his goal. From that point, Geraldo spent the next hour changing his form with the new spell, trying out all sorts of forms that would give him a strategic edge in an upcoming battle.

All the while, the parts of him that used to be good continued to be slowly eaten away by the sinister power of the Book of Shadows.

October 3

3– [ Necrophilia | Shape shifting ]

Onyx stood over Edith’s body in the dim room, the air heavy with silence, his breath barely audible over the weight of what he had just done. His eyes traced the lines of her face, the delicate softness now marred by the violence of his hand. His mind was blank, eerily calm, as if the act of taking her life had stripped him of everything human. For a long moment, he felt nothing. No guilt, no sorrow, no regret. Just the cold, sterile silence of a predator who had claimed his prey.

His shape-shifting had been flawless, a ripple in his flesh as he transformed, his body elongating into something monstrous, something designed to kill. He had watched her face change, the love and trust she had held for him twisting into confusion, and then horror, in the blink of an eye. And when his hands tightened around her throat, when her body convulsed beneath him, struggling for breath, there was no hesitation. Only purpose. She had never even stood a chance.

Onyx had thought it would end there, that once the life left her eyes, the hunger inside him would be sated, that the beast within him would retreat. He had thought the love he held for her, the twisted, unreachable love, would die along with her.

But as the silence stretched on, something inside him shifted, cracked open, letting the flood of emotions pour in, slow at first, then in torrents, until it overwhelmed him. His breath hitched as he stared at her still body, eyes wide, unblinking, as if waiting for her to move again, to gasp for air, to wake from the nightmare he had pushed her into.

And then it hit him. He had killed her. He had killed Edith. The one person he had ever truly wanted, the one person he could never have. And now… he had her forever.

His gaze trailed down her lifeless form, over the curve of her neck, the still rise of her chest. He took a step forward, not entirely sure what had moved him. His knees buckled, and he dropped to the floor beside her, his hands trembling as they hovered above her, unsure whether to touch her or recoil. The reality of what he had done was sinking in, a sickening knot twisting in his gut.His fingers brushed her cheek, the warmth already fading from her skin, and the crack in his heart widened. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.

But the more he touched her, something snapped, deep, urgent, primal—ugly. The grief was there, yes. The guilt. But beneath it, crawling up from the depths of his soul, was desire. Unrelenting, ravenous desire.

His touch grew bolder, his hands trailing down her neck, over the curve of her shoulders, to the soft rise of her chest. Her body, lifeless and limp, should have repelled him. The numbness that had cloaked him like armor began to crack, and beneath it, emotions began to stir. Anger at himself, at her for being so fragile, at the world for making him this way.

It started as a flicker, a whisper of something deep inside. His touch was now more precise, his fingers trailing lower, over the curve of her hips, her waist. He felt heat rising within him, the kind of heat that shouldn’t exist here, in this room, with her lying still and cold. It was wrong, he knew that. Every fiber of him screamed that this was wrong, but the lust… the desire didn’t care. It grew, an insatiable hunger that gnawed at him from the inside, twisting his thoughts, warping his perception.

He swallowed thickly, his mind spiraled into indecision. Yet, his fingers trembled as they moved to undo the buttons of her dress, the fabric parting beneath his hands. There was no resistance, no soft protests, just silence. His movements were slow, methodical, like he was unwrapping something sacred, something fragile. Her body, now fully exposed, glistened in the dim light, pale and perfect. He traced his hand down the length of her torso, his mind a swirl of emotions he couldn’t untangle; grief, anger, guilt, and, above all, an overwhelming, sickening need.

He leaned closer, his breath ghosting over her skin, eyes half-lidded as the smell of her, of death had filled his senses. It should have disgusted him. It should have sent him reeling back. But it didn’t. His lips hovered just above her neck, his tongue darting out to taste her, the salt of her skin mingling with the cold metallic tang of demise. He felt his pulse quicken, the blood roaring in his ears, drowning out whatever remained of his sanity.

“I’m sorry...” he whispered, though he didn’t know if the words were for her or for himself. But even as he said them, his hands were moving lower, exploring her body in ways that made his stomach churn with a mix of arousal and revulsion. The contrast between her stillness and his growing urgency, the life pulsing through his veins while hers had ceased would drove him to the brink of madness.

His breath came in ragged gasps as he undid his own clothing, shedding his humanity piece by piece until he was as exposed as she was. He crawled over her, his body trembling, not with remorse, but with anticipation. His mind screamed at him to stop, to turn away, but his body was already lost, consumed by the overwhelming lust that had taken hold of him.

He positioned himself above her, his hands pressing against her cold skin as he lowered himself, his lips brushing against her unresponsive ones. His mind blurred, the edges of reality fading as the dark desire consumed him whole. With a shuddering breath, he pushed inside her, a moan escaping his lips, the sensation of her cold flesh wrapping around him like a vice, the thrill of it sending him spiraling deeper into the abyss.

Tears welled in his eyes, not from sorrow, but from the intensity of it, the overwhelming mix of emotions flooding his senses. He thrusted into her, his body moving on its own, driven by the animalistic need that had overtaken him. Each movement was a blasphemy, a violation of everything she had been, but he couldn’t stop. He didn’t want to stop.

“Fuck..you feel so good” he whispered hoarsely, his voice breaking as he pushed deeper, his hands gripping her hips with bruising force. He was lost, utterly and completely consumed by the lust, the desire, the need to feel her one last time, even in death. His movements grew frantic, desperate, as if he could bring her back to life through sheer force of will.

But she remained cold, still, lifeless, and that only made him want her more.

Onyx’s breath came in ragged gasps, his body trembling with the weight of what he was doing, of what he had become. “Edith...my love” He pressed his face into her neck, biting down hard enough to draw blood, tasting her one final time. His tears fell onto her skin, mingling with the blood, a grotesque mockery of the love he had once felt for her.

And as the final shudder wracked his body, the realization hit him like a sledgehammer, the full weight of his actions crashing down around him. He pulled back, staring down at her lifeless body, the evidence of his violation smeared across her pale skin. The room seemed to close in on him, the walls pressing in, the silence deafening.

But even then, as the horror of it all sank in, the desire still lingered, dark and twisted, like a poison in his veins.

A hollow sound escaped his throat, a laugh, broken and tinged with hysteria. He couldn't move, couldn't bring himself to pull away from her. The echoes of his own desire clung to him, suffocating him in its aftermath. His body trembled with the aftershocks, the guilt finally settling in like a dark, gnawing presence. The numbness that had taken hold of him earlier had shattered, replaced by a crushing weight that pinned him to her.

His hands slid from her hips, the stark contrast between the warmth of his skin and the coldness of hers sickening him. And yet, he couldn’t stop touching her. He pressed his palms flat against her, as if to reassure himself that she was still there, still his. The pleasure he had felt only moments ago now twisted into something grotesque, a festering wound that pulsed with shame and regret.

Onyx’s body shook with sobs, though they came out silent, his breath hitching in his throat. How had it come to this? How had he let it spiral so far out of control? He had loved her. Loved her in ways he could never have spoken aloud. But that love had turned dark, hadn’t it? It had rotted inside him, festering until it consumed him whole. When he killed her, it had been almost inevitable, a sick pinnacle of his feelings, an act of possession rather than violence. She had belonged to him, and in her death, she belonged to him still.

The thought sent another shudder through him, but this time it wasn’t desire that followed. It was nausea, deep and violent, churning in his stomach until he had to pull himself off her, scrambling to the corner of the room, his body convulsing as he vomited onto the floor. The bile burned his throat, acidic and bitter, but it did nothing to cleanse the filth that clung to him.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his mind spinning, trying to make sense of the mess he had created. He glanced over at her, her pale form still crumpled where he had left her. The sight of her filled him with a sick sense of satisfaction, and that realization alone made his skin crawl. He had defiled her, violated her, and yet… a part of him still reveled in it.

The room was stifling, suffocating. The air felt thick with the scent of blood, sweat, and tears. Onyx ran a trembling hand through his hair, his nails digging into his scalp as if he could claw away the thoughts, the memories, the guilt that gnawed at him.

But he knew there was no going back.Only the hollow, haunting echoes of what he had done, of the darkness that had swallowed him whole.

October 3

Day 3: Tentacles, Necrophilia?, Shapeshifting

The undead moved closer. There were too many of them, and after the spell of summoning, we were all weaker than we imagined we would be. The wall behind Luna cracked open and skeletal hands reached out, grasped her, pulled her back against the stone. It was hard to tell if these were zombies, mummies, or something else. They had clearly been mummified, but their bodies were only partially wrapped in the linen that had been used in the process. Bare flesh was exposed along most of their bodies, strangely well-preserved but grey with undeath and glistening with a coat of some kind of slime.

I grabbed Leah's arm and tugged at her, Raven pulled on her other arm. We tried to get her free from the hands that held her, but their grip on her seemed to tighten. The undead things in the room moved closer, but they were not rushing forward to attack. I backed up as one of them moved in front of Luna where she was held to the wall, a huge phallus aimed in her general direction waved back and forth with its lumbering steps. Its intent was clear. Another came up behind Raven as she tried to help Lean, grasping her shoulders, puling her away, its monstrous cock sliding up along her back. It held her firmly as she struggled. The spell had not only weakened us, it had required so much sexual energy that we were all aroused, desperate for satisfaction. When the things moved to fuck us, none of had the urge or strength to stop them.

Leah stared up at the mummified thing in front of her and shrugged. Fucking was better than fighting. Maybe we could outlast them. She dropped to her knees, letting it force its cock into her mouth. Luna and Raven gave in to the two things that approached them, Raven pressed face-first against a wall and fucked from behind while Luna wrapped her legs around the thing before her, letting it impale her while hands from within the wall held her in place. I watched as I was the only one without a slimy undead cock in my mouth or pussy.

I could join in, I could stop them, or... the whole point of this expedition had been the treasure behind the sealed door. With the guardians otherwise occupied, I approached the door. All it needed was a tiny trickle of magic to open. I let that trickle flow and the door slid open.

From within the darkness beyond smoke billowed out, and from with the wispy mist slithered a tentacle. I took a step back, unsure of what I was seeing. My friends were still distracted, stuffed with undead cock. Another tentacle slipped from beyond the door, and then a third, and a fourth. They weren't particularly big around, but they were long, and they seemed to have a purpose.

One wrapped around my waist, pulling me towards the door, and I let it. Another wrapped around me, up my legs, across my shoulders. I didn't fight them, there were too many, and they were too strong. Besides, I had an inkling that I knew what they wanted. When they moved my skirt aside and slid up the inside of my thigh, I knew I was right. I let one slide into my pussy, filling me up. Another entered my ass easily, while one thicker than my wrist slid inside my mouth. I was filled with tentacles, and they moved over my skin, teasing my nipples, my earlobes, every sensitive spot on my body.

They were gentle and teasing, and I let myself relax as they held me in place. I heard the moans of pleasure from the women in the room around me, but I could not turn my head to look. I wondered if the undead fucking them felt anywhere near as amazing as the unearthly tentacles that were having their way with me. I felt tentacles moving inside me, filling my pussy, moving in and out, leaving a trail of cool slime in their wake. The one in my mouth slid out and I gasped, then felt my pussy suddenly empty. But it only lasted a moment. The thing that owned the tentacles, a creature that was simply a mass of... I didn't even know what, oozed out from the doorway. It was huge, and sticking up out of its body were a series of inhumanly large appendages that looked a lot like twisted, gigantic dildos. It moved me over one, pressed me down against it, my pussy far too small to take the thing, and pulled me against it.

The sensation was amazing, but I knew it couldn't fit. It rubbed against me, teasing at my pussy, but I felt something else moving underneath me. Something had slithered beneath the tentacle, and it slid up along the length of the appendage that was pushing against my pussy. It was cool and smooth and a little slippery, and as it slid into me I let out a little whimper. It was not that it was unpleasant, it was that it felt so good.

The tentacle around my waist held me steady, and the thing between my legs, the dildo-shaped thing I thought it would use to try to fuck me, instead began to move and change shape. It was vaguely humanoid, and in not time it pulled free from the massive thing below me. I watched it slide down the bulk of the creature and roll onto the floor, and as it did, it continued to change. It was a person, a woman, and as it pushed itself to its feet, I realized that it was me.

The thing in my pussy was suddenly thicker than my thigh. It slammed into me and my eyes rolled back in my head. When I could focus again, I was being pulled into its body, watching as the copy of me grew a copy of my clothing. I watched as tentacles gathered my friends, pulled them to the strange protrusions, and eventually sucked them into its body to be replaced by its duplicates.

We all floated inside the jelly-like body of the thing, its tentacles inside of us, slowly teasing us, pumping us full of... something. It felt great. I was relaxed, not quite sleepy, but without and real urge or desire to leave. It was bliss. We watched from inside as our duplicates left. What were they doing? Part of me was curious, but mostly I just wanted this thing to keep touching me, keep fucking me.

October 4

Day 3 Shapeshifting

The forest whispered in the darkness, the wind weaving through branches like secret voices.

Aisling crouched low, her breath steady, her eyes scanning the clearing. She had been here for hours, waiting. The moon's glow broke through the canopy, dappling the ground in pale light. Footsteps approached, heavy and deliberate. The hunters. They always came at night.

Aisling's heart raced, but her face remained calm. She closed her eyes, feeling the pull in her chest, the familiar stirring beneath her skin. The hunters wouldn’t find her—not like this.

Her bones shifted first, cracking quietly, elongating her limbs and shrinking her form. The pain was dull, as if her body had learned to accept it long ago. Fur sprouted from her arms, her legs, her back. Her fingers curled inward, shortening into paws. Her face elongated, her nose twitching as her sense of smell sharpened. A wolf. That’s what she needed to be tonight.

Her fur bristled as the footsteps grew louder. She stayed still, barely breathing as the hunters entered the clearing, their torches casting flickering shadows. She could smell their sweat, their fear, masked beneath the false bravado of steel weapons and hardened armor. They thought they were prepared for anything the night would bring.

Aisling’s amber eyes gleamed, reflecting the firelight. She wasn’t human anymore. She was something faster, more cunning. Something they couldn’t catch.

With a low growl, she darted through the trees, her body a blur of silver and shadow. The hunters cried out in confusion, their torches waving frantically in the dark. But she was gone, already slipping into the forest, her new form moving effortlessly through the underbrush.

They would never catch her.

Aisling raced through the forest, each paw hitting the earth with a silent precision. The scent of the hunters faded as she weaved between the towering trees, but she didn’t slow down. She couldn’t—not yet.

The moon guided her, its silver light casting faint paths through the branches. Every so often, she’d hear the rustle of wings, the sound of nocturnal creatures awakening, but none dared come near. They knew better than to interfere with a wolf on the hunt—or on the run.

She finally stopped near a small stream, the water gurgling quietly over smooth stones. Aisling let out a breath, feeling the strain in her muscles ease, though the tension in her mind lingered. She shifted again—this time into a smaller, less threatening form. The wolf’s body compressed, fur retreating as her limbs shortened. Feathers sprouted in their place. A hawk now.

She took off, soaring above the treetops. The hunters would never think to look for her here. They still believed they were chasing a wolf. Fools. Aisling scanned the ground below, her sharp eyes catching glimpses of movement. The hunters had scattered, confused by her sudden disappearance. Some lingered near the clearing, others trekked deeper into the woods.

One, though, stood apart. Taller, more still than the rest. Aisling’s keen vision zoomed in on him. His armor was darker, more intricate, unlike the others. A black-hooded cloak obscured his face, but she could see the gleam of eyes searching the shadows. He didn’t carry a torch. No, this one was different.

A chill ran through her feathers. She had seen him before—in flashes, in dreams. The man who never stopped hunting.

He looked up suddenly, directly at her, as if sensing her presence.

Aisling’s wings faltered for a moment. How could he see her? It wasn’t possible. She was too high, too hidden within the night sky. But he was staring right at her.

Panic gripped her chest, but she forced herself to calm. He couldn’t catch her, not up here. She circled once, then dipped low, speeding toward the farthest edge of the forest, her instincts pushing her away from him. Whatever that man was, he wasn’t someone she wanted to test.

But just as she flew over a ridge, a force tugged at her, an unseen hand that yanked her mid-flight. She spiraled, losing control, and tumbled toward the ground.

The shift came instinctively, bones cracking, wings snapping back into arms, feathers retracting into skin. She landed hard, rolling through the underbrush in her human form, gasping for breath.

Dazed, Aisling pushed herself up on shaking arms. She glanced around, expecting to see the hooded man close by, but the woods were still. Silent.

She shivered, the cold of the earth seeping into her skin. That pull—it hadn’t been natural. Someone had done that to her, had forced her shift. Her heart pounded in her chest as she realized the terrifying truth.

She wasn’t the only shapeshifter in these woods.

October 4

4– [Cunnilingus | Ghost town] (FxF)

The abandoned room creaked under the weight of the storm brewing outside, the wind howling through the cracked windows. Dust clung to the air like memories of what once was, settling thick over the crumbling furniture. Seika’s eyes were fixed on Ivy, her body tense, every muscle coiled, ready to strike. The ghost town outside was a forgotten ruin, but inside this room, there was nothing but the two of them and the years of hatred between them.

“Still chasing shadows, Ivy?” Seika spat, her voice low, filled with venom. “I thought I taught you better than that.”

Ivy’s smile was a thin, dangerous thing, her hand resting casually on the hilt of her blade, as if she weren’t standing inches away from someone who wanted her dead. “And I thought you’d be quicker by now, Seika. Guess we’re both disappointed.”

Their eyes locked, neither of them moving, the tension between them tightening like a rope being pulled too far. Seika’s pulse thudded in her ears, but she kept her breathing steady, controlled. She couldn’t afford to let Ivy see the effect she had on her, couldn’t let her know how much it burned, how much it still hurt, even after all these years.

Seika’s hand tightened on her dagger, her knuckles white as she took a step forward. “This ends tonight.”

“Maybe it does.” Ivy’s voice was low, mocking, a taunt that cut through the air like a blade. She shifted her weight, her body moving with a destructive grace that sent a flicker of heat through Seika’s veins, unwelcome but undeniable. “Or maybe we just keep playing this game forever.”

Seika didn’t wait for Ivy to make the first move. She lunged, her dagger slicing through the air toward Ivy’s throat. Ivy dodged, quick as lightning, her blade flashing out to meet Seika’s. The sharp sound of metal on metal rang through the room, their bodies twisting, turning, as they danced around each other in a deadly pace.

Seika’s movements were precise, every strike aimed to kill, but Ivy moved like smoke, slipping through her fingers, always just out of reach. They had fought countless times before, but tonight was different. Tonight, the stakes felt higher, the air heavier, thick with a touch that wasn’t just rage.
“You’re slowing down, Seika,” Ivy taunted, her breath coming in sharp gasps as she blocked another one of Seika’s strikes, twisting her arm at an awkward angle to disarm her.

Seika hissed, teeth clenched as she yanked her arm free, the pain shooting through her shoulder. “I’m just getting started.”

Their bodies collided, the force of the impact sending them crashing into the nearest wall. Ivy’s back hit the surface hard, but she didn’t falter. She twisted her hips, using Seika’s momentum against her, flipping them so that Seika was the one pinned to the wall now, Ivy’s knife pressing dangerously close to her throat.

“You think you can kill me?” Ivy’s voice was a whisper, their faces inches apart, her breath hot against Seika’s cheek. “After all these years, you still don’t have it in you.”

Seika glared, her chest heaving, her pulse pounding in her throat where Ivy’s blade hovered. “I’ll prove you wrong.”

Ivy’s eyes gleamed in the dim light, dark and full of what Seika didn’t want to name, didn’t want to acknowledge. The closeness between them, the press of their bodies, the heat radiating from Ivy’s skin as it all blurred together, confusing her focus, her rage. She should be shoving Ivy away, should be finishing this once and for all. But instead, her breath hitched, her body betraying her, arching just slightly toward the heat of Ivy’s.

Ivy’s smirk deepened, her lips curving into an expression that was almost amused. “Oh, I see it now.” Her voice thickened, the mocking tone replaced with a darker note. “You don’t want to kill me, do you?”

Seika’s jaw clenched, her nails digging into Ivy’s arms, but she couldn’t move. Ivy’s knife remained at her throat, but her hand… her hand was sliding lower, skimming Seika’s waist, fingers trailing the curve of her hip.

"Ivy!" Seika rasped, her voice strained and hoarse. The sharpness of her warning had vanished, overtaken by a feeling she couldn’t control, one she refused to admit.

"You can’t even admit it to yourself," Ivy whispered, leaning closer, her lips grazing Seika’s ear. The warmth of her breath sent a shiver down Seika’s spine, her body betraying her mind’s hesitation. "All this time… all this hate… it’s been more, hasn’t it?"

Seika’s heart raced, her pulse hammering in her ears. She tried to shove Ivy away, tried to push her back and end this, but Ivy was faster. With one swift motion, Ivy dropped her knife, her hands grabbing Seika’s wrists and pinning them against the wall above her head.

Seika’s breath hitched, her body trapped between the unforgiving stone at her back and the heat of Ivy's body pressing against her. The tension was suffocating, the air thick with more than just violence. It was hunger. Desperation. A feeling long buried between them, now rising to the surface.

Ivy’s lips hovered inches from Seika’s, her breath coming in uneven bursts, her eyes dark and unreadable. “You hate me,” Ivy whispered, her voice thick and strained as her fingers tightened around Seika’s wrists. “But not enough to walk away.”

Seika’s chest rose and fell with each shallow breath, her body trembling with the effort to keep herself together. She hated Ivy. She had to. But the way Ivy’s body pressed against hers, the way her breath ghosted over Seika’s skin, made it impossible to hold onto that hatred.

“Stop!” Seika rasped, though her voice lacked conviction, her resolve crumbling under the heat of Ivy’s touch.

But Ivy didn’t stop. She moved in closer, her lips grazing Seika’s neck, sending a surge of electricity through her. Seika’s knees faltered, her body instinctively arching into Ivy’s touch, her mind spinning, torn between the impulse to resist and the undeniable pull toward a far more dangerous temptation.

“I don’t think you want me to stop,” Ivy murmured, her lips tracing a slow, heated path down Seika’s throat, her hands sliding lower, gripping Seika’s hips and pulling her forward.

Seika’s breath came in ragged gasps, her body trembling, her mind urging her to push Ivy away, to end this as it should. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t resist the way Ivy’s touch stirred a fire deep within her, a feeling that had smoldered beneath their hatred for years.

Before she could catch her breath, Ivy’s hands were yanking Seika’s pants down, her movements rough, desperate. Seika gasped, her body jerking at the sudden exposure, her mind spiraling as Ivy dropped to her knees in front of her, her hands gripping Seika’s thighs with bruising force.

“Ivy…” Seika’s voice was barely more than a breath, a warning, a plea. She didn’t even know anymore.

Ivy looked up, her eyes dark, burning with an intensity that made Seika’s pulse race. “Tell me to stop,” Ivy whispered, her fingers curling around Seika’s thighs, pulling her closer. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”

But Seika couldn’t. The words stuck in her throat, tangled with the anger and desire that warred within her. Ivy’s smirk deepened as she leaned forward, her breath hot against Seika’s inner thigh, her lips brushing Seika’s skin, sending a shiver through her entire body.

Seika’s head fell back against the wall, her fingers gripping the cold stone as Ivy’s mouth found her warmth. Ivy’s tongue was hot and insistent, each flick sending shockwaves through Seika’s already overloaded senses. Her body betrayed her once more, her hips jerking forward to press closer to Ivy’s mouth, her breath coming in quick, desperate bursts.

Ivy’s tongue danced over Seika, teasing and tantalizing, the heat of her mouth enveloping Seika’s most sensitive spot. Pleasure surged through her, overpowering everything else. Her rage and confusion drowned beneath waves of sensation that crashed over her like a storm. She couldn’t think or focus as Ivy expertly coaxed moans from her throat that echoed against the cold walls of the room.

“God, Ivy…” Seika gasped, her fingers twisting in Ivy’s hair, pulling her closer, urging her on even as her mind screamed at her to stop. She hated this. Hated how good Ivy made her feel, how easily Ivy dismantled the walls she had spent years building.

“Admit it,” Ivy murmured against Seika’s skin, the vibrations sending a jolt of pleasure straight to Seika’s core. “You love this. You crave it. And you always have.”

Seika shook her head, trying to deny the truth that burned in her chest, the way her body betrayed her with every flick of Ivy’s tongue. “You’re wrong,” she rasped, her voice a mix of defiance and desperation. “This is weakness.”

Ivy pulled back just enough to look Seika in the eye, her expression dark and knowing, lips glistening with evidence of what she had done. “Weakness? Is that what you call wanting? Needing?” She leaned in closer, her breath hot against Seika’s thigh. “You’re not weak, Seika. You’re just human.”

The words sliced through Seika like a blade, sharper than any weapon. She fought against the flood of emotions that threatened to drown her. Fear, desire, and anger twisted into a knot in her stomach. But Ivy was relentless. She pressed forward, her tongue flicking again, teasing at the edge of Seika’s control and coaxing her into submission.

Every thrust, every stroke sent shockwaves through Seika’s body, drawing out desperate gasps that filled the room, mixing with the sound of the storm raging outside. The world around them faded into nothingness, reduced to the space between their bodies, the tension crackling like electricity in the air.

“You could have had this all along,” Ivy said, her voice sultry, coaxing, as if she were drawing Seika into a deeper darkness. “All you had to do was let go.”

Seika’s body trembled, her instincts warring with the pleasure coursing through her. She fought to regain some semblance of control, but every moment Ivy spent between her thighs sent her further into a haze of need. Seika bit her lip, stifling a moan as Ivy’s tongue flicked faster, more insistent.

“Please…” The word slipped from Seika’s lips before she could stop it, a plea dripping with desperation. She didn’t know what she was begging for; more, less, or a way out. The heat pooling in her stomach threatened to consume her.

“Please what?” Ivy taunted, her eyes glinting with a wicked spark. “Tell me, Seika. Tell me what you want.”

The challenge in Ivy’s voice ignited a fierce determination in Seika. With a surge of will, she yanked Ivy’s head back, compelling their eyes to meet. “I want you to stop pretending this is a game!”

“Let go,” Ivy urged, the sound of her voice muffled against Seika’s sensitive skin. “Just let it happen.”

“I—” Seika gasped, words falling away as waves of pleasure crashed over her, relentless and consuming. She clawed at the wall behind her, the cold stone pressing against her palms, grounding her as she teetered on the brink of ecstasy. “I cannot hold on any longer.”

“Then don’t,” Ivy coaxed, the heat of her breath igniting every nerve in Seika’s body. “Give in to it. Let me take you there.”

With a final surge of energy, Seika surrendered to the waves crashing over her. A rush of bliss exploded within her, a rush of sensation that surged through every inch of her being. She cried out, a sound filled with pleasure and release, the room echoing with her gasps as she came undone.

“Ivy!” The name spilled from her lips, raw and desperate, laced with the intensity of everything she had tried to suppress. Every muscle in her body tightened, then unraveled, leaving her breathless and aching against the wall.

Ivy didn’t relent, her movements steady and unwavering, coaxing every last shudder from Seika as her body pulsed with pleasure. Seika's head fell back against the wall, surrendering fully to the storm within her.

When Ivy finally pulled away, breathless and glistening, Seika’s heart raced as their eyes locked. The unspoken truth lingered heavily between them, a fragile thread binding their souls in an unexpected way. Ivy leaned in and captured Seika’s lips with hers. In that kiss, they exchanged everything: passion, anger, pain, and a dangerous yearning that felt like longing.

October 4

Day 4 - Ghost Town

I started this at 3 AM, got tired, then had to rush to finish it since I wouldn't have time to after 6:30 PM. Day 5 will be backstory day on how Geraldo decided getting an evil tome was a good idea.

'It's been over a week since Beth went missing. Now she's called me out to this place, Why, though?' was the thought that ran through Mark's head as he arrived at the place described in the letter sent to him. The last time he had seen Beth was on the day of his master's funeral along with the rest of the apprentices. On that day, he found himself in what he could only describe as a ghost town. It had likely been a lively village at a time, but like many things, the village's people either left or died, and things fell into disrepair. While Mark questioned why Beth had suddenly got into contact with him and why she wanted to meet with him there of all places, he didn't know he was being watched by Geraldo's shadow creature.

Once Mark reached the center of town, surrounded by run down buildings, his hand subconsciously moved towards his sword as he saw a brown haired woman approaching his location.

'Why do I feel such a horrible darkness coming from her?' Mark thought to himself. Once Beth arrived, Mark found out quickly what the source of the terrible darkness he felt was. In Beth's hands was the infamous Book of Shadows, an item that their master had ordered it's destruction after his death. And yet, there it was.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" Beth asked, but Mark didn't answer her. He only glared at her, keeping a close watch on her movements.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

"Why do you have the Book of Shadows? You know what master said about that thing. It's evil, and it should've been destroyed," Mark answered, but Beth only answered with a shrug.

"What does he know? That fool of a man was a paragon in his prime, and yet a stupid disease was enough to kill him. He has no right to talk about good and evil powers. Maybe if he had used the book himself, he would still be alive," Beth coldly said, watching with a smile as Mark's body began to shake.

"Master took care of us like we were his own children! How dare you say such things about him!" Mark shouted. He unsheathed his sword and shot forward towards Beth, but the woman made no attempt to move. Instead, the shadow creature came leaping out of her shadow, blocking Mark's fast swing with a shadowy claw.

"Mark the Swiftblade. You were always a dangerous one in a fight. However..." Beth said, holding out one hand in Mark's direction. A dark purple light began to shine from between the pages of the Book of Shadows as a sphere of darkness began to form in the center of Beth's hand. Mark tried to get away, but the shadow creature reached out and grabbed Mark's arm, keeping him trapped and forced to be hit by the incoming sphere of darkness. The blast sent Mark flying into an old building, kicking up dust. As the dust slowly began to settle, a pale purple light shone and instead of Beth, a man approached Mark.

"Geraldo..." Mark said, watching as the familiar man approached with the shadow creature towering over him.

"It's been a while, hasn't it? Since the funeral, I believe," Geraldo said.

"Why do you have the Book of Shadows? What happened to Beth?" Mark questioned. Geraldo didn't answer the questions given to him, instead picking up Mark's fallen sword and walking back over.

"Don't worry about her. You'll be joining her soon. For now, though, I want to have a bit of fun with you," Geraldo said with a cruel smile. Because of his injury, Mark found it hard to move away as Geraldo approached him. The shadow creature slowly loomed forward and grabbed onto his wrists, keeping him restrained.

"Once I'm done with you, I'll have you join Beth where she's been sent to."

For hours after that, a man's screams of agony echoed through the ghost town until things finally went silent.

October 5

October 4 - Cunnilingus (continuation from October 2)

Ben moaned and squirmed under his sister skilled tongue, she had been pleasuring his hole for the last hour. She might have stop if Sara the ghost kept asking her to teach her something.

The two ghost sibling that had trapped them in there were naked on the bed next to them. Sara was sitting on her knees right next to Trish, and Luke the second ghost of the night was on his knees as well. He was kneeling right next to Luke in a similar position as his own.

Trish switched between licking and tongue fucking her brother to showing Sara how to do the same to her brother. The two seemed to bond over the erotic act of pleasuring their brothers.

Ben panted in in between his moans unable to keep his voice down any longer. The ghost boy Luke sat up and looked back at his sister Sara.

“I think it’s time for a bit of a switch my dear sister.” He said turning around. With a smile he kissed her lightly.

Sara look slightly confused into the kissed but then grinned as she pulled away excitedly. “Oh I think I know,” she said giggling. She tapped Trish on the shoulder to get her attention.

the woman had gone back to tongue fucking at her brother’s hole, sat straight and looked at Sara. The ghost leaned in and started to whisper into her ear.

The two had a small conversation as their brothers turned around to face them. Ben was shivering and twitching unuse to the erotic acts he was subjected to.

Trish was smiling shyly g with a dark blush on her face as she stare hungrily at Ben, her eyes were full of a feral lust that Ben only saw for the first time that night. It was also the first time he saw his sister act so shyly around him.

sara smacked her should giggling “Just lie back and be quiet, my brother will handle it from here.” She said as she moved her legs out from under her. She slipped off her panties and tossed them to the side before laying back and spreading her legs to her brother. Luke was nodding and grinning as he understood what she wanted.

”Ben my boy, come here and let me show you how to please a woman.” He said wrapping an arm around the man’s shoulders. “It’s only fare since your sister taught my sister something…fun.” He coughed lightly at that last bit.

The two brothers moved forward getting close to Sara’s crotch.

”no touching, she is mine. You can watch and learn.” He said an aggressive note in his tone as he moved forward.

Ben with a blush on his face nodded watching him intently as his mouth open and licked at Sara’s pussy.

the girl giggle lightly as she grabbed hold of her brother head, she was biting her lip lightly as she watched him smiling.

Luke’s tongue lightly moved from the bottom of her lower lips on one side to the top, then down the other side.

Sata chuffed at him a pout in her face, “tease!”

Luke smiled before her stuck his tongue into her wet folds, his finger spread Sara’s lips wide as he pushed his tongue in deep licking at the sensitive insides.

The boy’s thumb moved up to her clit where he rubbed at it rather forcefully for the first time that Ben could see.

The act made Sara moan out and shiver as she forced her legs to remain out so that Ben could see. She even gave him a wink when he looked up at her.

Luke lapped at her insides with a deliberate steady pace, his thumb and fingers from one hand rubbing and pinching at her clit. His other hand’s finger pushed deeply into Sara’s pussy.

Ben who was watching all of this couldn’t help but be amazed at how skillfully Luke put Sara into her current state.

the ghost in question was clutching at Luke’s hair as she was fully laid back, one knuckle was in her mouth so she could bite on it to stop herself from moaning to loudly. She was shuddering and twitching at his every touch. Her moans leaked out even though she tried to stop herself.

”B-Ben,” a familiar voice called out to him making his head snap around, for there was something to the voice he couldn’t place his finger on.

Trish was laying at the head of the bed on a mound of pillows she had collected, the red head had removed her pajamas at some point leaving her naked. Her muscular glistened with slight sweat from her own arousal.

She had a hand on either side of her legs holding them apart by the knees, her pussy was on full display to Ben who could see that it was dripping lightly.

”St-stop looking at another woman’s twat and take care of mine!” She demanded to her brother an embedded look on her face. She couldn’t even look him in the eyes at that moment.

Ben was flabbergasted, he had never seen this side of her and made him want more of it.

Moving to Trish, Ben hesitated for just a moment before sliding in between her legs like Luke had done earlier. Getting close to his sister pussy he smile up at her shyly

she returned the smile her confidence coming back to her as something shifted in them.

Ben wasting no time spread her pussy with his fingers before lashing at it with his tongue roughly. He didn’t have the skill that Luke did but he made up for it with gusto.

Trish moaned just briefly before moving her hands down and taking him by the hair. Ben looked up thinking he might have done something wrong.

”It’s okay Ben, I just want to you to take care of this.” She said softly moving his head so that his tongue landed on her clit. “I want you to lick and suck and nibble at that alright?” She said her breathing coming faster as she stared at him.

Ben nodded before returning to his task. He did exactly as she said. He licked and nibbled at the little nub before wrapping his lips around it and sucking on it. He didn’t do it to hard at first but the more his sister moaned the harder he sucked.

her muscular legs wrapped around his head as he work on her clit. They squeezed lightly evey now and then but not enough to stop him.

Slipping a hand in between her legs he started to finger her pussy just as he saw Luke did which made her moans go even higher.

without warning a flood of juices stained the sheets under the two as Trish gave out a loud moan her legs squeezing his head so hard he thought his head was about to pop.

She held him like that for several moments as her body quivered around him before finally she relaxed all tension leaving her body.

”good job!” Sara said from beside him making Ben jump in surprise. “But you forgot to clean her up, after care is important you know.” She said with a grin pointing at Trish’s wet folds.

Ben said nothing as he moved back in and started to lick his sister clean.

October 5

5– [ Bondage | Darkness ] (FxM)

The room was stifling in its silence, heavy with the unspoken tension of Bren’s submission. His wrists were bound tightly above him, arms stretched and secured to the iron frame of the bed, his naked body intricately wrapped in the unforgiving coils of the red rope. Every knot was a reminder of Hazel’s control, of her mastery over his flesh, his will. Each thread dug into him, constraining and caressing all at once, marking him as hers.

His eyes, blindfolded, were plunged into darkness, an endless emptiness that heightened every sensation. His skin felt raw, each inch hypersensitive, with every touch sending jolts down his spine. Though Hazel hadn’t yet touched him, he could feel her presence, electric and close. It coursed through his veins, igniting his nerves, each touch sending shivers down his spine. His body was an instrument, and she held the bow, poised to play him until he reached his breaking point.

Hazel moved silently around him, her steps soft, slow. The tension in the air coiled tighter with each second of her silence. He was aware of her proximity, of how close she must be, and yet she kept him in this unbearable stillness. The ropes shifted slightly as Bren’s muscles tensed, his body quivering in anticipation. His breath was shallow, labored, as if every inhale took effort. His body was strained, so painfully aware of itself, that even the mere thought of her touch sent waves of heat through him.

"How do you feel?" Her voice broke the silence at last, soft yet edged with a quiet authority. The sound of it washed over him, making him twitch in his bonds.

"I... I can’t," he stammered, his voice hoarse and trembling. Words were difficult to form, his thoughts clouded by the heat coursing through him. Every breath, every movement against the ropes pushed him closer to a place he wasn’t sure he could return from.

"You can’t?" Hazel’s voice was dangerously close, almost playful. He could sense her smiling even though he couldn’t see her. "That’s not what I asked."

She touched him then, a fingertip grazing the side of his neck, featherlight, so soft it was maddening. Bren jerked under the touch, his body reacting with a violence that caught him off guard, a sharp gasp tearing from his throat. His skin was too sensitive, his body already trembling, teetering on the edge. And she had only just begun.

"Answer me." Her voice was a command, firmer, as her fingers traced a slow, steady line down his chest. The ropes bit into his skin as his muscles tensed involuntarily, every inch of him aching for her touch, every nerve alive with need.

"I feel..." His breath caught as her fingers brushed over his stomach, teasing, tormenting. "I feel... too much."

She chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through the darkness, making his skin prickle. "Good."

Her hand moved lower, stopping just before reaching the part of him that throbbed with need. She didn’t touch him there, not yet. Instead, she let her fingers dance just out of reach, grazing the tops of his thighs, brushing against the ropes that held him so tightly. His hips bucked, desperate for more, but the bonds held him in place, unyielding.

"You're trembling." Hazel’s voice was laced with satisfaction, as if she relished the control she had over him. "Is it the ropes? Or is it me?"

"It’s you…" Bren gasped, his voice cracking. His whole body felt too tight, full, as though it might shatter under the weight of his own desire. He couldn’t see her, couldn’t anticipate where her next touch would land, and it drove him mad.

"And the drug..." Her words were slow, each one sinking into him like a drop of molten wax. "It’s doing its job, isn’t it?"

"Yes," he breathed, his voice nothing but a whisper, a confession. The heat pulsed through him like a fever, his body aching for release, for some kind of mercy.

"Good," she whispered again, her lips so close to his ear that he could feel the warmth of her breath. "I want you like this. I want you to suffer for it."

Her fingers finally dipped lower, teasing the sensitive skin between his legs, brushing so lightly it felt like a shockwave through his entire body. Bren let out a strangled moan, his hips jerking forward, desperate for more, but Hazel pulled away just as quickly, leaving him gasping, trembling, and reeling on the edge of insanity.

"Please," he whimpered, his voice barely audible now, cracked and broken. "Please, I can’t..."

"You’re not even close to breaking yet," Hazel mumbled, and the cruelty in her voice was almost tender. "But you will be."

Her hands were on him again, but this time slower, more intentional. She dragged her nails down his chest, leaving faint red lines in their wake, her touch both soothing and tormenting. Bren shuddered, his head tipping back, a low moan escaping his lips as she brought him closer to the brink.

"I could make you come right now," she murmured, her hands moving lower again, just brushing the edge of where he needed her most. "But I won’t."

Bren let out a sob of frustration, his entire body trembling, every muscle straining against the ropes. His skin was slick with sweat, his breath ragged and shallow as she continued her slow, agonizing teasing. He could feel the heat rising in him, the unbearable tension building to a breaking point, and yet she kept him there, on the knife’s edge, refusing to let him fall.

"Please," he gasped again, his voice raw with desperation. "Please, Hazel... I need..."

"You need what?" she interrupted, her voice sharp now, a whip crack in the dark. "Tell me exactly what you need, Bren."

He swallowed hard, his throat dry, his heart pounding in his chest. "I need you to touch me," he managed, his words shaky, unsteady. "Please... I need to come. I can’t take it anymore."

Hazel’s fingers curled lightly around him, and his whole body convulsed, a broken moan spilling from his lips as he felt the warmth of her hand. But she didn’t move. She just held him there, teasing, letting him feel the weight of her control, the unbearable restraint.

"You’ll come when I decide you’re ready," she whispered, her grip tightening just enough to make his hips twitch. "Not a moment before."

Bren’s body trembled violently, his skin on fire, every nerve screaming for release. He could feel the strain inside him building, winding tighter and tighter, and he knew he couldn’t last much longer. His mind was a fog of need, his entire being reduced to this single, aching point of need.

"Please," he begged, his voice barely more than a breath. "Please, Hazel, I can’t... I need you. I need..."

Her hand began to move, slowly and with purpose, each stroke a calculated torment. Bren gasped, his body jerking in response, his breath coming in shallow, uneven bursts as she drew him closer and closer to the edge.

"Not yet," she whispered, her voice soft, almost gentle. "Not until I say."

Bren’s breaths grew heavier, the air around him thickening with the weight of unspoken words and unshed tears. He felt the walls of his restraint crumbling, the floodgates threatening to burst open. "Hazel," he pleaded, his voice trembling with urgency. "I can’t hold back. It’s too much."

"You’re doing so well," she praised, and her words flowed over him like warm honey, mixing with the sharp sting of his need. "Just a little more. Can you give me one more moment?"

It was a challenge, a taunt that ignited something primal within him. Bren’s breath came in gasps, urgency flooding his system as he fought against the confines of his own body, desperate for release. "I can’t!" he cried, his voice a raw edge of desperation. "I need it now! Please, Hazel!"

In response, she tightened her grip, and the world around him exploded into chaos. Every nerve ignited with pleasure as she brought him crashing over the edge, pulling a cry from deep within his chest. "Hazel!" The name echoed in the darkness, pleading like a testament to the overwhelming need that consumed him.

The pleasure surged through him like a tidal wave, an intoxicating force that left him breathless. It enveloped him completely, drowning him in ecstasy, every inch of his body aflame. He felt the rush as he released, the ropes pressing against his skin, a reminder of his submission as he spiraled down into a dizzying chasm of sensation.

Hazel's mirth filled the air, a triumphant melody that underscored his release. "Good" she murmured, her voice smooth and velvety as he rode the waves of pleasure crashing through him. "That wasn’t so hard, was it?"

Bren fell limp against the ropes, his body still quaking with aftershocks, a mix of bliss and exhaustion washing over him. He could hardly process the warmth that spread through him as the darkness began to recede, and the reality of her presence washed over him. He was hers, completely and irrevocably, and in that moment, it was everything he had ever wanted.

October 5

Day 5 - Darkness. Also, because I have to do it...

(I also had to rush this one too. I need to finish these before I go to sleep, I swear.)

Two hours had passed since Geraldo finished torturing and feeding Mark's mangled body to his shadow creature. By the time he had returned to his lair, it had begun to rain heavily. Unlike the time he had eliminated Beth, Geraldo was not spending the time looking over the Book of Shadows in search of more spells. Instead, he solemnly sat in his chair, looking out the window at the pouring rain.

'That stupid fool. Why would he say something like that?' Geraldo thought to himself, remembering a moment during his torture session that gave him pause. He had spent the better part of an hour cutting Mark with his own sword while his shadow creature kept him restrained. While his screams satisfied him and only drove him to increase the pain, one thing Mark had said at the time caused Geraldo to stay his hand, at least temporarily.

"What would Master think if he saw you like this, Geraldo? You're better than this," Mark said. Thinking back to that moment, Geraldo clenched his fist and hit the wooden table in front of him.

"Those feelings should've died already. Why did his words make me stop?" Geraldo asked himself. He paused for a moment, "It was raining on that day too, wasn't it? The day he died..."

"And the day I allowed the darkness in..."

It had been about half a year ago, on a particularly rainy day. All of the apprentices of Master Lee, a man known as a paragon of martial and magical arts, were in attendance on the day of his funeral. The older man lied in his casket, his once muscular frame reduced to mere skin and bones due to the disease he had contracted. His body had slowly grown weaker by the day, and eventually, the last light of his life had faded away like a dying flame. None of the apprentices knew how or why he had gotten such a disease that took him away from them. While some were openly distraught from losing someone who became like a father to them, like Beth and the weakest apprentice, Sam, Geraldo stood away from the others, unable to keep his eyes off the body of his master. Lee had taught him everything he knew about magic, and from Geraldo's point of view, he was the strongest man he knew. Incredibly powerful, yet still had a heart of gold. And yet...

'Why?' Geraldo questioned in his head. Memories of his time with Master Lee ran through his head, only for the image of his weak and frail body laying in bed flashed through in between each memory. He clenched his fists as he finally managed to tear his eyes away from the man's corpse. He decided to head outside the room in hopes of getting his mind off of things. As he walked down the hall, seeing pictures of Master Lee with his apprentices lining the walls, he couldn't help but think about the whole thing even more.

'Master Lee was supposed to be strong. The strongest man around these parts, and yet...he died because of a pathetic disease of all things. How pathetic,' Geraldo thought. He knew it was wrong to think such things about the man who took him in and raised him, but the thoughts had come to Geraldo like they were second nature. He moved a hand towards his chest, feeling like a bit of the weight of the situation had lifted. What he was unaware of at the time was that the first seed of darkness had already taken root in him, and that small seed would quickly grow into a much greater problem. Not just for himself, but for the other apprentices.

Three days later, Geraldo returned alone to the house while the other apprentices took care of matters regarding their master's will. In those days since the funeral, the negative thoughts that flowed through Geraldo's mind had only gotten worse and more frequent. It had led to a new thought process in the mage's head.

'If I can gain more power, I will never end up like he did.'

During his days of training with Master Lee, Geraldo had heard rumors of a dangerous and evil tome that had been used in the past to cause great destruction. As it turned out, Master Lee had gotten a hold of the tome and put it away somewhere. Through a lot of searching around, Geraldo managed to find a door leading down to the basement hidden by magic. When he opened the door, all he found was darkness. Nowhere in sight was a single glimmer of light. Even when he used his magic to create a fireball to help him see, the light of the flame was unable to get through the darkness. He slowly and carefully stepped down the stairs until he reached the bottom of the stairs. Surrounded by darkness was a single altar, where a dark gray tome sat. A single beam of light shone through the darkness onto the altar.

"That must be it," Geraldo said to himself as he slowly stepped forward. The closer he got to the Book of Shadows, the more he felt like the darkness around him would swallow him up entirely. His fireball soon went out, leaving him stuck in the darkness. He stopped walking and looked around, noticing the darkness around him getting closer and closer.

"I won't let this stop me. I will get the power of that tome, and I will use it to get stronger," Geraldo said to himself. He pushed through the wall of darkness and finally reached the Book of Shadows. Once he took the book in his hand, however, the darkness around him quickly surrounded and dragged him into it's depths. Minutes later, however, Geraldo found himself back on the first floor, completely unharmed. The only difference was the dark gray tome that he now held in his hand.

October 6

6- [Blow job | Pumpkin Patch] (MxM)

The crisp air of the pumpkin patch hung heavy with the smell of earth and rotting vines, a reminder of the season slowly decaying. Judah walked with his family, his wife beside him, their children laughing as they chased each other through the rows of pumpkins. It was supposed to be a perfect day, filled with simple joys. However, Judah—Judah wasn’t focused on pumpkins.

Jake was a few steps ahead with his own family, his face impassive, eyes flicking to Judah whenever no one else was looking. There was a language between them now, unspoken, sharper than guilt. Judah tried to push it away, to focus on his wife’s voice as she pointed out a particularly large pumpkin, asking him if it would be perfect for carving. He nodded, smiled, played the part he’d perfected.

But then Jake’s hand brushed against his as they passed, barely a touch, yet it sent a jolt through Judah’s entire body. His pulse quickened, a hot flush creeping up his neck as he swallowed hard, heart pounding in his throat.

"Help me find a good one over here." Jake’s voice was low, casual to the others, but Judah caught the undercurrent, the way it tugged at him. He knew better than to follow, knew that every step in Jake’s direction pulled him further into a world they couldn’t afford to live in. Yet his legs moved before his mind could stop them.

"Just a minute," Judah muttered to his wife, flashing her an empty smile. His stomach twisted as he walked toward Jake, leaving the safety of his family behind, the distance between them and this dangerous pull growing smaller with every step.

Jake led him to the back of the patch, where the pumpkins grew in uneven rows, thick foliage hiding them from view. Judah’s breath hitched when they reached the farthest edge, away from the families and the laughter, cocooned in silence and tension. He glanced back, but there was no one close enough to see, no one to witness what was about to happen.

Before Judah could speak, Jake’s hand was on him, gripping the front of his shirt, pulling him hard against the rough bark of a tree. Their eyes locked and Jake’s were dark, predatory, filled with the kind of hunger that Judah felt gnawing at him for weeks.

"We shouldn’t..." Judah whispered, but even as the words left his lips, his body betrayed him, his hands already sliding into Jake’s hair, pulling him closer, drowning in the inevitable.

Jake’s mouth pressed against Judah’s throat, teeth grazing his skin, sharp and possessive. "No one’s watching," Jake murmured against him, breath hot, voice thick with urgency. His hands were already moving, unfastening his belt, pushing Judah’s pants down with rough, impatient tugs.

The cold air hit Judah’s skin, heightening every sensation, every touch. His pulse throbbed in his ears, drowning out everything but the sound of Jake’s breathing, the way it quickened as he sank to his knees, hands still gripping Judah’s hips.

Judah’s hand shot out, grabbing the tree behind him to steady himself as Jake’s mouth found him, enveloping him in wet heat. His head fell back, a sharp exhale escaping his lips. He bit down hard, trying to stifle the moan that clawed its way up his throat. The weight of the moment pressed down on him—here, out in the open, surrounded by families, with their wives and children just yards away. The danger of it made his blood run hot, a heady mix of fear and lust that twisted his insides.

Jake's mouth moved with an agonizing expertise, every flick of his tongue sending electric shocks through Judah’s body. His knees trembled as he tried to stay quiet, every nerve on fire, his grip tightening on Jake’s hair, pushing him deeper. He couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, every rational thought drowned out by the way Jake’s lips wrapped around him, dragging him toward a breaking point he feared but couldn’t pull away from.

"Faster," Judah whispered hoarsely, his voice barely a sound, a plea carried on a breath. His fingers tightened in Jake’s hair, his body trembling under the pressure building inside him.

Jake complied, the rhythm of his mouth quickening, growing more frantic, more reckless, as though the world around them had disappeared. His hand came up to grip Judah’s thigh, steadying him, grounding him. It wasn’t enough to calm the storm that raged inside. Judah’s breaths came in ragged gasps, his head spinning, the fear of being caught amplifying everything, making him feel too much all at once. The thought of their families being so close, the danger of it all—his pulse raced faster. His mind flickered to his wife’s laughter just a short distance away, to the sound of his child calling out. Yet here he was, in the darkness of Jake’s mouth, drowning in the illicit thrill of it.

"I can’t—" Judah gasped, voice raw, eyes squeezed shut as he tilted his head back against the rough surface. The world spun, the pumpkin patch forgotten, everything forgotten except for Jake and the unbearable need coursing through him.

The pressure built inside Judah with an intensity that made his breath ragged, sharp as the cool October air filled his lungs. His body betrayed him, the restraint he had practiced for months crumbling beneath Jake’s touch.

His fingers gripped Jake’s hair, his knuckles white, but his mind no longer fought the oncoming flood. Every barrier Judah had placed between them, the distance he tried so hard to maintain, shattered. His body trembled under the weight of his need, and still, Jake moved with that same maddening rhythm, teasing him, pushing him closer to the edge without letting him fall.

"Please," Judah breathed, voice hoarse, barely recognizable. He hated how quickly the words slipped from his lips, how easily he gave himself over to the ache building inside him. His hips jerked forward, seeking more, needing more. But Jake kept the pace steady, controlling Judah with that cruel, careful touch that never gave him what he wanted fast enough.

A strangled gasp escaped his lips as Jake took him deeper, the sensation so intense it was almost unbearable. Judah’s head fell back, eyes shut tight as his entire world narrowed to this single point of contact, the weight of Jake’s mouth, the slick pull of his lips. His body felt on the verge of breaking, the tension so thick he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.

"Jake..." Judah groaned, his voice thick with desire and desperation. His fingers twisted in Jake’s hair, tugging, pleading for more, for release, for anything to free him from the storm raging inside.

Jake’s hands tightened around Judah’s thighs, steadying him as the rhythm finally quickened, each movement of his mouth sending Judah spiraling closer to the brink. His breath came in sharp, shallow gasps, the coil inside him wound so tight he thought he might snap. His body was on fire, his skin slick with sweat, heat pooling low in his belly, growing more urgent, more overwhelming.

"Fuck—" Judah’s voice broke, trembling as he felt it, the inevitable rush, the wave that would consume him. His heart raced, his entire body trembling with the force of it, the pleasure so sharp it was almost pain.

And then he shattered.

The release hit him with a ferocity that left him breathless, his muscles seizing, body jerking forward as the wave of pleasure ripped through him. Judah’s grip on Jake’s hair tightened, his hips bucking as he gave in, every ounce of control lost in the storm of sensation crashing over him. The air left his lungs in a ragged moan, loud, raw, his entire being unraveling under Jake’s mouth.

He could feel Jake taking him in, swallowing him whole, his mouth unyielding, working Judah through his release with the same intense precision. Judah’s legs trembled, barely able to hold him upright as the pleasure surged through him, violent and consuming, leaving nothing but a deep ache in its wake.

The world around him slowly returned, the sound of wind rustling through the leaves, the distant murmur of voices growing clearer. Judah’s chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath, his heart still racing, his body weak, trembling from the intensity of it all.

Jake rose to his feet, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his face devoid of emotion, but his dark eyes gleamed with a certain satisfaction. There was no tenderness between them, only the constant push and pull, the desire they couldn’t suppress, and the tangled web of secrets that tightened around them with every moment.

For a long, heavy moment, neither of them spoke. The sounds of the pumpkin patch, the distant chatter and laughter, felt too close, loud. Judah’s throat tightened as he fumbled with his belt, the shame of what he’d just done already pooling like lead in his stomach.

"Jake, this has to stop—" Judah began, his voice a thin, hoarse whisper, but Jake was already stepping closer, his hand catching Judah’s wrist, holding him in place.

"Don’t," Jake interrupted, his voice low and firm, his grip unyielding. His eyes flicked to Judah’s, filled with that same hunger, that same need that had brought them here in the first place. "You always say that, but here we are again." His words were laced with a bitter, knowing edge, one that made Judah’s chest tighten, his breath catching in his throat.

Judah looked away, jaw clenched, but Jake’s grip tightened, forcing him to meet his gaze. "You could’ve walked away, but you didn’t. You never do." His voice softened, but the intensity remained. "Tell me I’m wrong."

The truth twisted inside Judah, cold and hard. He couldn’t speak it aloud, not here, not with Jake so close, his breath warm against his skin. He hated how much power Jake had over him, how easily he could unravel him with just a touch, just a look. And yet, the ache inside him had never lessened, never faded, not once.

"It’s killing me..." Judah finally muttered, his voice breaking, the weight of the truth suffocating him. He tried to pull his wrist away, but Jake’s grip tightened, his eyes hardening with coldness.

"It’s killing both of us," Jake shot back, his words sharp, biting. "But we can’t stop." His voice carried a rough, desperate undertone that Judah recognized all too well. "Don’t pretend like you want to."

Judah’s throat tightened, his pulse quickening as guilt twisted inside him like a knife. He didn’t want this—he didn’t want any of it, the lies, the sneaking around, the constant fear of being found out. But the need for Jake, the pull that always brought him back, was stronger. He hated himself for it, hated how easy it was to give in every time. The shame clung to his skin, thick and suffocating, but it was never enough to make him stop.

Jake released Judah’s wrist, his hand trailing down to his side, the touch lingering. "We’ll meet again," Jake said softly, with a certainty that made Judah’s stomach churn. There was no question in his voice, no doubt that this would happen again, and again, and again, until it consumed them both entirely.

Before Judah could respond, the sound of his wife’s voice pierced through the fog. "Judah?" She called from somewhere nearby, closer, her voice light and unsuspecting. "Are you still over there?"

Panic gripped him. He stepped back from Jake, his heart pounding in his chest as he quickly adjusted his clothes, brushing the dirt from his jeans, trying to erase any trace of what had just happened. Jake’s expression didn’t change, his face calm, indifferent, as if nothing at all had occurred between them.

"Coming," Judah called out, his voice cracking slightly as he forced a smile onto his face. His hands shook as he ran them through his hair, trying to steady himself, to push the guilt down deep enough so he could walk out of the shadows, back to the world where everything was supposed to be normal.

Jake stepped forward one last time, his voice low and soft in Judah’s ear. "This isn’t over. It never is."

Judah swallowed hard, fighting the urge to reach out again, to pull Jake back into the darkness where none of this mattered. But the sound of his wife’s footsteps grew closer, and he forced himself to step away, to break the spell that Jake had woven over him.

He turned toward the light, toward his wife, and the bright, noisy world that waited for him, leaving Jake behind in the shadows, the bitter taste of their forbidden connection still burning on his tongue.

October 6

5 Bondage Darkness Vibrator

I was suspended in the air, arms behind my back, legs spread wide.

"You look good in that harness. I wonder what our guests will think of that shaved little snatch of yours."

I shook my head as she pushed her thumb between my lips and stroked my pussy. She was just touching the top of my pussy, above my slit, teasing me. Then she leaned forward and put her mouth to my breast, kissing my nipple as she ran her fingers lightly across my pussy.

"You're going to enjoy this more than you deserve," she said. "But you've been a good pet."

Her hands began to tease and stroke, then to knead the lips of my pussy. It felt incredible. She began to lick my nipples, nibble and bite, and I felt a stirring in my groin as she spread my legs wide. She slid a finger along my pussy, but then stepped back. She knew I was already aroused, but she clearly had wanted to tease me a little more.

"That's enough for you," she said, that sly smile on her face. "Be a good girl while I go get our guests."

I felt the excitement, the anticipation in my stomach. My pussy was soaked. The harness was so tight that it almost hurt, but the straps on my breasts made my nipples so hard and I could feel my juices beginning to slide down my thighs. She was going to let them... what? touch me? finger me? Fuck me? Would they be men, or women? Would they fuck my pussy? My ass? What was going to happen?

Then the lights went out. I didn't know if this was part of her plan, but suddenly the darkness was complete. There was no light anywhere, just a black void all around me. It startled me. I did not expect this.

I heard her voice from far away in the house. "No worries love, looks like we lost power. Just let me get downstairs to the breaker. You're safe there."

Of course I was safe. There was no one else here. I heard her footsteps heading down the stairs, those impossibly high heels thumping down down down. And then something touched me.

"MMmmmmmff!" I gasped as it made contact with the skin of my inner thigh. It felt so soft, but the touch was so unexpected I nearly leapt out of my skin. There wasn't anyone else here. Who or what was touching me?

It moved up my leg, along my thigh. It felt plastic or maybe latex. A toy? My nipples were tingling. The thing on my thigh began to vibrate, and slid up my leg, moving ever closer to my shaved, drenched pussy.

What was going on? The vibrator - what else could it be? - moved ever upward, and the toy was positioned between my legs. My pussy was wet, slippery, and the touch of the toy made it even wetter. The toy slid up and down my lips as it vibrated.

I couldn't see anything. It was so dark. Whoever was doing this, she or he seemed to know exactly what they were doing. Was it one of Raven's friends? I moaned around the ball gag in my mouth as I felt the vibrations run up through my body.

The more it moved, the more I moaned, and soon it slid easily inside of me. Whoever was moving it took their time, slowly sliding it in, then out, in then out, twisting, angling, finding the perfect spot to drive me wild and then moving it away when it gave me too much. It was delicious torture, and they seemed to enjoy taking their time with it. I could feel my orgasm building as this unseen person fucked me with the vibrator.

Finally they seemed to have found the perfect angle, and they pressed and released against that spot within my body over and over. Each time they pressed the vibrator, I felt it through my body like electricity, unbelievable stimulation, and then it went away when they released. But the stimulation lasted longer each time, the orgasm building until it washed over me in waves.

I thrashed against my restraints, muscles tensing and releasing as I floundered under the unrelenting vibrations driving me wild. I barely registered that the lights had come on; the vibrator was deep inside me, pushing me over the edge in repeated orgasmic waves. I needed it to stop; I needed a break. But no break came.

"They're not here yet, love," Raven said from the doorway. "It's just you and..."

She must have seen me spasming there, bound and hanging in the air, the vibrator inside me, because she let out a gasp of surprise.

"What the -- " She came to me quickly, heels clicking across the floor, and twisted the dial on the end of the vibrator. I continued clenching around it as my orgasm subsided, and then she gently eased it out of me.

"How did you...?" She looked at me, at the vibrator, around the room. No one else was there.

October 6

6 Pumpkin Patch, Blowjob

I had already picked my spot, a dip in the field where it was lower. We should be able to get down low enough to be invisible from the next wagon to pass by, and I'd seen a huge pumpkin out here right by the edge of the dip. It took a few minutes to walk through the field, and when we got to the big pumpkin, I circled around behind in. I knelt down in the dirt and leaned on it. I imagined Ian behind me, flipping up my skirt, pulling my tight and panties down, sliding inside me... It was a delicious little daydream, and I wriggled my ass thinking about it.

He spanked me hard, and I let out a little yelp. When I turned around to look back, he moved in front of me and sat on the pumpkin, grinning like he'd played a trick on me or something.

"Hey," I said. "I wanted to lean on the pumpkin, get you behind me. It would make some excellent pics." I held my phone up and angled it as if taking a selfie that would include him behind me.

"Sounds fun," he said in that lazy drawl way he had of speaking, not quite a southern accent. I couldn't place it, and he'd never admit to its origin. "But what I really want is your mouth." He held up his phone and aimed it down his body to my face where I knelt before him. "It would also make some excellent pics."

His grin told me he had made up his mind. I wasn't getting what I wanted til he got what he wanted.

"Okay," I said. "You'll just have to keep an eye out for the wagon." I leaned forward and undid his pants, opening them and reaching inside for his cock. He had a hard-on, which wasn't a surprise; he was always ready.

"Can I really take pics?" he asked, grinning and aiming the phone.

"That was the idea," I said, pulling his cock out. I looked at it, the pink flesh standing out from the dark jeans. My tongue snaked out, and I gave the tip a lick. His cock twitched and jerked. He groaned and I heard the click sound of the camera.

"Oh, that's good," he murmured, his free hand running through my hair.

I smiled and opened my mouth wide, sucking the tip in, licking around it. It was a slow, luxurious suck, my tongue swirling, my cheeks sucking, and the tip of my tongue licking along the underside. He tasted clean and a little salty.

"Oh, yeah," he muttered, clicking again.

I glanced up and saw that his head was tipped back, eyes closed. I slid my lips down his length, slowly taking him in. His head came up, and he looked down.

"Fuck," he muttered. "That's so fucking hot."

I knew it would be. The phone, the risk, the dirty things we were doing, it was hot. I felt wet and squirmy, and I knew I was probably a mess, but I didn't care.

I started bobbing my head up and down, moving faster, sucking harder. His hips pushed toward me, and I felt his hand grab a handful of my hair. That was another turn-on. When he wanted me, when he had to have more, he took control. The camera clicked over and over. He was getting a lot of pics.

"Oh, god, your mouth..." he muttered, and his hips were jerking forward now, pushing his cock into my mouth.

I looked up at him and saw his face, his jaw clenched, eyes closed, and I felt sexy and powerful, knowing how much pleasure I was giving him. He groaned, his fist tightened in my hair, and he thrust deep, holding his cock there. I took him deep into my throat, practically gagging, and when he pulled out, I made a little gagging sound, looking up at him.

He let go of my hair, stuffed his phone in his pocket, and grabbed my head in both hands, thrusting in and out of my mouth.

"Fuck, yes, baby, suck my cock," he growled. He was up off the pumpkin now. He was on a mission.

I grabbed his ass and pulled him to me, encouraging him to fuck my mouth. I could hear the grunts and groans, the sucking sounds my mouth made as he pushed his cock in and out. His thrusts became erratic, and his hands clenched tight in my hair. I moaned and felt his hips jerk.

"Ah, shit," he said. "Oh, fuck, baby."

And then his cock jerked and spasmed, cum shooting into my mouth.

I swallowed.

I kept sucking, and he shuddered and moaned, his fingers tangled in my hair, pulling and grabbing.

When I finally let go of his cock and stood up, he had a stupid grin on his face.

"You are something else," he said, pulling me against him.

"What can I say, I like it when you take control," I said.

"Well, I guess I've got you well trained," he said. He leaned in and kissed me.

My knees were dirty, my face was probably as messy as my hair, but I didn't care.

October 7

Double feature day, because I didn't do my Day 6 entry. Will I eventually use the kink list? Uhhh...eventually, maybe, but for the greater good of people's eyes, I'm probably going to avoid it as long as I can. Also I'm taking a short break from the Geraldo plotline until I can think of more ideas. I already know Day 31 will likely be the final battle.

Day 6 - Pumpkin Patch

'It's been a lot of hard work since I moved here. People back home always said mages were arrogant and just wanted to enslave us again, but the people around here were really nice,' a man thought to himself. Up on a hill overlooking the village of Amberhost lived a man named Jack. Several months prior, Jack had moved into the small cabin on the hill a short walk outside of Amberhost and befriended the mages living in the village. Wanting to help the small village, Jack had decided to spread the word of a holiday they had celebrated in the country to the east, one known as Halloween. However, a good Halloween needed pumpkins, and with a combination of a few pumpkin seeds and the knowledge of the local mages, Jack and the villagers had managed to create a growth formula that allowed rapid growth in plants to full maturity in an incredibly short amount of time.

On that particular afternoon, Jack stood alone in the pumpkin patch that had once been a barren hill. Jack had been in the middle of reading through a list he had wrote of all the things he needed to do for a successful Halloween festival, just like back home.

"It may start off a bit small, but I really hope one day, more people come to this place," Jack said to himself. While he may not have realized it at the time, his innocent pumpkin patch would soon be used for malicious purposes, all in an attempt to make the man seem worse than he was. Two days later, one of the Amberhost villagers had been found dead in Jack's pumpkin patch. Not only had their body been covered in deep cuts, their head had also been sliced off and replaced with a Jack-o'-lantern. Suspicion fell to Jack, considering he was the only one who knew how to make a Jack-o'-lantern, but without evidence, the case had ended up dropped. The same day the body was discovered, Jack had noticed several of his pumpkins had vanished.

In the following days, more bodies began to appear, all in similar states to the first one. While Jack was a bit sure that someone was hoping to frame him for the sudden string of murders, he had been far more focused on making the Halloween festival a success to worry too much about it.

In the end, that lack of worry would eventually lead to his own death at the real killer's hand, and his name would be dragged across the mud for the next 250 years.

Day 7 - Graveyard

It had been a particularly foggy night as the three hooded figures made their way to the graveyard hidden near the Cult of Phantasma's home base. The one leading the pack moved as if they were shambling, but trying to pass as a human. Many unmarked graves littered the area, and several skeleton soldiers wandered about the area. The three figures stopped in front of one of the unmarked graves and pulled off their hoods. The first man was pale, unusually so. He had appeared more like an undead himself rather than an ordinary human. The second was a green eyed young man with purple hair while the third was a woman wearing a butterfly mask that hid the top part of her face. The undead looking man, known simply as The Oracle, turned towards the purple haired man.

"Vangor, Lord Phantasma has chosen you. However, you must prove you are capable of carrying out the tasks our lord will require of you," The Oracle said. He slowly turned towards the grave the trio were standing over and reached out until his hand hovered over the ground. A dark brown aura began to flow out of The Oracle's hand, causing the earth beneath to react by moving, slowly lifting the casket under the ground out to the surface. The stench of death and decay began to fill the air, even though the casket had not been fully risen out of the ground. The grip the purple haired man, Vangor, had on his wooden staff, tightened as he watched The Oracle use his earth magic.

'I had always thought undead could not use magic. When a human dies, their mana circuits become unusable as well. The Oracle truly has been blessed by Lord Phantasma. It is no wonder he can hear our lord's voice, despite being undead,' Vangor thought to himself.

"There are special spells capable of making undead capable of restoring their dead mana circuits. The Perfect Reanimation I can use is one of them." the woman pointed out.

"Are there other methods, Lady Sara?" Vangor asked, turning his attention to the mask wearing woman.

"There is a power known as the Eternal Flame that can link a necromancer's mana supply to their undead servants. It is a costly spell, however, and a necromancer blessed by Lord Phantasma wouldn't be able to use his blessing," Sara answered. As they spoke, The Oracle managed to raise the casket from the ground and slowly opened it up, revealing a decaying corpse.

"This human dared to step onto our territory and paid the price. Vangor, your trial, as decreed by Lord Phantasma, will be to bring this foolish human back as an undead servant of our lord," The Oracle said as he stepped back, leaving Vangor in front of the corpse. The young man moved his staff so the tip hung over the body and began channeling his mana into his staff. It wasn't long before the foul presence that came with performing necromancy began to spread through his body. During his time learning the basics from Sara, who had been his teacher since joining the Cult of Phantasma, he had not gotten used to the feeling yet. The energy flowed from Vangor's body to his staff, and from his staff to the corpse below. Sara and The Oracle kept a close watch on Vangor's work, but The Oracle had already set up a trap in Vangor's test.

Slowly but surely, the corpse began to move, but when Vangor thought he was in the clear, he felt a sudden magical pull. He bit his lip as the pull tried to drag far more mana out of him than was needed to reanimate a simple undead. Beads of sweat began to form on his head as he tried to fight back against the sudden magical pull and complete the reanimation process. Even with the magical pull trying to break his spirit and drain his mana, Vangor managed to complete the test and reanimate the corpse. As the new zombie slowly rose up, Vangor fell to one knee and took several deep breaths.

"Good, but it is not enough. In real combat, reanimation must be done quickly. We shall continue until the art is second nature to you," The Oracle said, already shambling away to another grave.

Vangor soon lost track of time as he was forced to reanimate corpse after corpse, with only a couple of breaks to restore his mana.

October 7

7 Graveyard, Aphrodisiacs, maybe leather?

Ian had said the aphrodisiacs were strong, but I didn't believe him. In fact, after almost two hours and no effects, I was certain they were just more bullshit, another of his claims that ended up being nothing. So when Frank and Jack had suggested leaving the Halloween party to walk through the nearby graveyard, I didn't think twice. Night time, in my "sexy demoness" costume, with two hot guys? I was getting lucky with one of them for sure.

The ground was not easy to walk on in those heels, so when they suggested we explore a crypt that was already open, I was more than happy to oblige. At least I could walk on the stone floor. But I had no idea what was about to happen.

As soon we were inside, the door swung shut behind us. It was dark, but the moonlight shone in through the tall, narrow windows.

"Creepy," Jack said.

I nodded, but didn't say anything. I was feeling oddly warm for such a cool night in such a skimpy costume.

"This is great," Frank said. "Our own little party spot where nobody will find us."

I laughed nervously, and strangely felt the need to touch my own flesh. I cupped my breasts and then moved my hands down my body, feeling my curves, wondering why I was so hot, why I suddenly needed to be touched.

"It's... great," I said, my mind distantly aware of the setting, but my body alive and desperate to be touched.

"I got those candles we grabbed," Jack said. "It's so dark in here." He moved to the windowsill and started setting down candles and lighting them.

Frank was silent as he watched me run my hands all over myself. I turned to show him my ass, my eyes closing slightly and a long sigh escaping my mouth. I couldn't help it. I was getting so aroused.

"You okay?" Frank asked.

I nodded, unable to speak, and looked over at Jack, who was staring at me with an odd look on his face. I felt embarrassed and wanted to cover up. I didn't understand what was happening to me, why I was acting so brazenly in front of these guys.

"Somebody's feeling the magic of the night," Jack said, laughing.

I was feeling something, that was for sure.

Frank moved closer, reached out a hand. "If you've had too much to drink or something, maybe we should get you back."

"No," I said, taking his hand in both of mine, stepping closer and putting his finger to my lips. "I'm right where I want to be." I sucked his finger into my mouth between my lips, staring at him, the implication of what I wanted clear.

"Are you sure?" Frank was a good guy, and I knew he didn't want to take advantage. "I don't want you to do something you'll regret."

"I won't," I said after taking his finger out of my mouth. I slid one hand down the front of his costume to the bulge in the front of his pants. I made a little mmm sound in my throat. He wasn't aroused yet, but he twitched at my touch. "I'll be doing something I really, really want to do."

October 7

7– [Humiliation | Graveyard] (MxF)

The air was thick with the scent of damp earth, and Laine inhaled it as if it might steady her trembling nerves. She had ventured out tonight, the absence of her stalker over the past few days luring her into a fragile sense of safety. Foolish, she now realized. The mistake had been hers, thinking he had disappeared, that his shadow had stopped following her, but here, among the forgotten gravestones and twisted branches of the cemetery, she knew better. She could feel him before she saw him.

“Out for a walk, darling?” His voice slithered into her consciousness like a serpent winding through the undergrowth. Damian stepped from the shadows, his figure tall, imposing, yet unnervingly calm. His dark eyes gleamed with something primal, some insidious pleasure.

Laine swallowed, her breath catching in her throat as she instinctively took a step back, her heart hammering wildly. “I—I thought you were gone.” Her voice cracked, the feeble lie falling into the night.

Damian smiled, not the kind of smile that soothed or reassured. No, his smile was as cold as the grave beneath their feet. “Oh, Laine, you’re more amusing than I thought.” He tilted his head, studying her, as if she were a piece of art he had created and was now deciding how to destroy. “I never really leave, not until it’s time. But you knew that, didn’t you?”

Without another word, Damian’s hand shot forward, grabbing her wrist with a force that knocked the breath from her lungs. His touch was as icy as his demeanor, and Laine staggered as he yanked her closer, her body colliding with his chest. “You’re trembling. Don’t tell me you’re afraid now, after all this time. After I’ve been so… patient with you.”

Laine’s lips parted, but no sound came. His hand tightened, bruising her delicate skin as he led her deeper into the graveyard, the soft earth giving way beneath her feet. She stumbled, but Damian did not slow. He dragged her with an effortless cruelty, as if she were no more than a rag doll in his grasp.

She tried to pull away, but his grip tightened. “You’ll have your moment, Laine. But not yet.” His lips curled into a sneer as he pushed her down, onto the cold, damp ground. “I like to savor these things.”

He stood above her now, like a judge ready to sentence. “Tell me,” he continued, his voice dripping with amusement. “What does it feel like? To know you belong to me, completely, and there’s nothing, nothing, you can do to stop it?”

Laine’s breaths were shallow, her heart threatening to burst. “You’re sick,” she whispered, her words barely audible.

Damian chuckled, a sound devoid of warmth. “Sick? Perhaps. But you…” He leaned down, his breath hot against her ear. “You came out tonight, didn’t you? You knew I’d come for you. In a way, you wanted this.”

Laine's breath shuddered in her chest, her limbs cold with fear, though her skin still felt the sting of Damian's touch. Her hands dug into the earth beneath her, damp soil clinging to her palms as she tried to push herself upright, but Damian’s foot pressed down onto her shoulder, pinning her in place.

“Ah, ah,” he tsked softly, leaning over her, his shadow casting her in darkness. “Stay down, Laine. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

She felt the weight of his words as much as the pressure on her shoulder, heavy and inescapable. He crouched beside her, eyes gleaming with a dark, playful light that made her stomach twist.

“Look at you.” His fingers brushed her hair back from her face, a mockery of tenderness in the gesture. “Covered in dirt, trembling at my feet. Pathetic.”

Laine flinched, closing her eyes against the weight of his gaze. She had to fight the rising panic, had to keep her wits about her. But it was impossible to think with him so close, with the earth cold beneath her and the darkness pressing in from all sides.

“Open your eyes, Laine,” Damian commanded, his voice suddenly sharp. “I want to see you when I speak to you.”

She hesitated, then opened her eyes slowly, heart racing as she met his stare. His face was inches from hers, a cruel smirk tugging at his lips. He seemed to revel in the control he held over her, the way her body reacted without her permission, trembling under his scrutiny.

“You always knew this would happen, didn’t you?” His tone was casual, as if they were having a simple conversation. “You could feel me, even when you couldn’t see me. Following you. Watching you. You could sense it.”

Laine’s throat tightened, and she bit back the tears that threatened to spill. “Why are you doing this?” Her voice was barely above a whisper, raw and broken.

Damian’s smirk widened. “Why? Because it’s fun, I enjoy it. Watching you squirm, watching you try to fight back when you know you’re already mine.” He tilted his head, his expression shifting from amusement to something darker, more menacing. “And because you need this.”

She shook her head violently, a sob escaping her lips despite her efforts to stay composed. “No, I don’t. I—”

“Oh, but you do,” Damian interrupted, his voice low and dangerous. “You’re drawn to me, Laine. You’ve always been drawn to me, even when you tried to deny it. Even when you convinced yourself that you could escape. Deep down, you knew.”

Damian’s fingers trailed down her chest, his touch invasive and unapologetic. Laine’s skin burned where his hand lingered, her body stiffening in response to the intimate humiliation of it. “You’re so quiet,” he whispered, his lips grazing her ear. “But I wonder how long that will last.”

His fingers tugged at the fabric of her shirt, exposing her further to the cold night air, and Laine’s breath hitched as she squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to disappear. His laugh was low, a mocking sound that sent a fresh wave of terror through her. “So strong, so silent,” he mused, his fingers ghosting over her exposed skin.

“Look at me,” Damian ordered, his voice sharp, cutting through the thick fog of her terror. His fingers gripped her chin, forcing her head up, forcing her eyes to meet his. The twisted amusement in his gaze made her stomach churn, bile rising in her throat as he smiled at her, a cold, predatory smile.

“Do you feel it yet?” he asked softly, his fingers tracing her jawline with almost sickening tenderness. “That helplessness creeping in? You can’t hide it from me, Laine. I know what you’re feeling. I know how much you hate this.”

Her chest heaved, her breath coming in shallow gasps as Damian’s words washed over her, each one sinking deep, leaving her feeling raw and exposed. He leaned closer, his lips brushing against her temple as he spoke again, his voice low and intimate. “You’ll beg for me soon enough,” he whispered. “But first, you’ll learn what it means to be completely powerless.”

With a sudden, violent tug, Damian ripped the fabric of her shirt open, the sound of tearing cloth echoing in the still night air. Laine gasped, her hands instinctively moving to cover herself, but Damian was faster. He grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head, his grip unrelenting.

Laine’s breath came in ragged hitches, her mind reeling from the shock and the terror of the moment. She was trapped, her body exposed to the cold and to Damian’s relentless gaze, and there was nothing she could do to stop him. He leaned in, his lips brushing her collarbone, the gesture almost tender if not for the cruel edge in his eyes. His breath was hot against her skin, his touch cold and possessive.

Damian’s smile was a dagger against the still night air, his eyes glittering with the sadistic delight of someone who had already won. He loomed over Laine, his presence so heavy, so suffocating, that it crushed the breath from her lungs. She lay sprawled on the cold, wet ground, the remnants of her torn clothes clinging to her body like a second skin.

“Beg for me, Laine,” he whispered, his voice a dark command that sent a shiver down her spine. “I want to hear you beg.”

Her jaw clenched, her entire body tense with the effort it took not to give him what he wanted. She wouldn’t, she couldn’t, let him have that. But Damian’s patience was thinning, and she could feel the shift in his demeanor, the way his grip tightened, the way his eyes darkened.

“I said, beg.”

Laine’s heart pounded in her chest, her pulse loud in her ears as she struggled to breathe under the weight of his demand. Her mind screamed at her to resist, to hold on to whatever shred of dignity she had left. But Damian’s hand slid to her throat, squeezing just hard enough to make her lightheaded, to remind her how easily he could take everything from her.

Her lips parted, a strangled sound escaping as she gasped for air, her pride and fear warring within her. His fingers tightened, cutting off what little oxygen she had, and the panic set in, clawing at her insides until there was nothing left but the instinct to survive.

“Please…” Her voice was barely a whisper, hoarse and broken, but it was enough to make Damian’s smile widen.

“There it is,” he murmured, his grip loosening just slightly, enough to let her breathe but not enough to give her control. “That’s all I wanted to hear.”

Laine’s chest heaved as she gulped down air, her entire body shaking with the effort of staying conscious. Damian watched her with cold amusement, his thumb brushing over the hollow of her throat as if he were savoring the moment, the sound of her surrender.

“You’re learning,” he said, his tone almost patronizing. “Good girl.”

Her stomach churned at the words, at the way he spoke to her like she was nothing more than a pet he had trained, a thing for him to use and discard as he pleased.

But he wasn’t done. Not yet.

October 9

8– [Creampie | Ghost ship] (MxF)

The Siren's Echo drifted through the mist like a specter of forgotten tales, her tattered sails whispering secrets of love lost and souls damned. For years, the ghost ship roamed the seas, a relic of tragedy etched into the minds of sailors and townsfolk alike. They spoke in hushed tones of Seraphina, the mermaid with hair like spun gold and eyes that glimmered like the depths of the ocean, and Theodore, the shipmate who loved her enough to drown in her depths, only to be pulled back into the suffocating embrace of the captain’s dark ambition.

But beneath the surface of the familiar tale lay a darkness untold, an agony woven into the very fibers of the ship's timbers. The air inside the captain's cabin was thick with the scent of salt and blood, the remnants of Seraphina’s life laid out as a morbid offering. Theodore stood frozen, hands trembling at his sides as he beheld the dismembered form of the mermaid he had once adored, her beauty marred by the brutality of the captain’s orders.

“Do it, Theo.” Lady Tide commanded, her voice low and honeyed, yet laced with a razor’s edge. “Prove your loyalty to me.” She stepped closer, her silhouette a dark temptation against the flickering light of the lanterns. “You have taken her life; now you must take her power.”

Theo’s heart thundered in his chest, each beat a reminder of the choice he had made. “You’ve turned love into a weapon,” he whispered, his gaze flicking to the severed head of Seraphina, her expression forever caught in shock and betrayal. “This isn’t loyalty. This is madness.”

“Madness?” The captain laughed, a sound like shards of glass breaking in the stillness. “No, my dear. This is survival.” She leaned in, her breath hot against his ear. “You wish to sail with me, to claim your place on this ship? Then you must embrace the darkness. Make her a sacrifice worthy of the sea.”

Theodore’s stomach twisted violently, a storm of regret and anger raging inside him. "I can’t," he muttered, the words raw, scraping their way out. "I loved her."

“And look where that has led you,” she hissed, her fingers curling around his wrist, pulling him closer until he could feel the heat radiating from her body, a stark contrast to the coldness of the mermaid’s remains. “You are bound to me now, Theo. You have tasted the bitterness of betrayal; now savor the sweetness of power.”

“Power?” he echoed, bitterness coating his tongue. “At what cost?”

“Cost?” The captain’s eyes gleamed, a glint that sent a shiver down his spine. “What is love without sacrifice? What is loyalty if not forged in blood?”

The weight of her words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating as she leaned closer, their lips nearly touching. “Now, will you embrace your true nature, or will you wither away like the remains of your beloved?”

A surge of desperation washed over him, an instinct clawing at the edges of his consciousness. The past stirred like restless phantoms, their whispers curling around him, urging him to embrace the shadows within. "What do you want me to do?" he asked, his voice barely holding steady, trembling under the weight of her pull, already succumbing to the gravity of her control.

“Gut her. Drain the blood. Serve her remains to me.” she commanded, the thrill of sadistic delight evident in her voice. “Then, we will make a pact stronger than any bond you shared with her.”

Theo knelt before the remnants of Seraphina, his heart shattered into a million pieces, each one piercing through his chest like a dagger. He grasped the knife, the cold steel heavy in his hands, and drew a shuddering breath.

“This is for my survival,” he murmured, his voice thick with anguish, and plunged the blade into her flesh, cutting through the delicate scales that had once shimmered in the sun. The crimson tide poured forth, mingling with the saltwater that pooled around them, a gruesome baptism in the name of loyalty.

The captain watched, her eyes alight with a twisted satisfaction as Theo gutted the siren, the act transforming him from lover to executioner. When the grisly work was done, he lay Seraphina’s head and body before the captain, a grotesque offering wrapped in ribbons of blood.

“Beautiful,” her voice dripping with mockery. “You’ve done well, Theo.”

But the words were a dagger to his heart, each syllable echoing the hollow truth of his actions. He turned away, nausea churning in his gut as he felt the weight of the mermaid’s lifeless gaze upon him.

The dim light of the captain’s cabin flickered, casting erratic shadows across the walls. Lady Tide stood tall, her posture regal, the embodiment of authority and power. “Theo, you know your place aboard this ship,” she declared, her voice smooth and commanding. She crossed her arms, her dark eyes glinting with a mix of confidence and challenge. “You will follow orders, as always.”

Theodore stood opposite her, his expression a storm brewing beneath his wavering exterior. He felt the weight of Seraphina's ghost pressing upon him, each heartbeat echoing the pain of betrayal. “Orders,” he echoed, a mocking tone slipping into his voice. “Is that what you think this is about?”

“Don’t play games with me, Theo.” Lady Tide stepped closer, the confidence in her voice a fortress against the rising tide of tension. “I’m not in the mood for your theatrics. You’re smarter than this.” She reached out, placing a hand on his chest, her touch possessive yet tender.

But he recoiled, anger flickering in his eyes like a flash of lightning. “Smart enough to see the truth,” he spat, the words laced with venom. “You think I’m here to play the loyal mate? You’ve pushed me to the brink, and now I’m done just doing that.”

Her demeanor shifted, the color draining from her face as she sensed the change in him. “What are you talking about?” The bravado faltered, her voice trembling at the edges. She searched his eyes for any trace of the loyalty he once had, but found only a chilling resolve.

Theo took a step closer, his gaze unwavering, and the shadows seemed to swallow her confidence whole. “You sacrificed Seraphina,” he hissed, each word punctuated with fury. “You wanted loyalty? You’ve only ever known manipulation.”

Lady Tide’s heart raced, a sudden realization crashing over her like icy waves. “No—” she breathed, stepping back, her fearless facade cracking. “You wouldn’t dare…”

But it was too late. The anger simmering in his eyes ignited into a blaze, and she felt a cold fear creeping into her chest, coiling around her heart. “You’ve turned me into a monster, Lady Tide,” he said, his voice a low growl. “Now it’s your turn to feel the weight of betrayal.”

She stumbled backward, panic blooming within her. “Theo, please,” she pleaded, desperation creeping into her voice. “You don’t understand—”

“Understand?” he interrupted, advancing, his presence looming like a storm cloud. “I understand perfectly. You think your title and power can shield you? That I would be blind to your cruelty?”

Her bluff evaporated, replaced by the stark reality of her vulnerability. The cabin felt smaller, the shadows darker as she pressed herself against the wall. “No! Don’t do this!” Her voice cracked, fear painting her features as she realized the depths of his wrath.

“Begging won’t save you now,” he taunted, the coldness in his tone cutting deeper than any blade. “You wanted to wield power like a weapon, and now you’ll feel its sting.”

Lady Tide’s heart thundered in her chest as she felt the full weight of his anger. “You can’t—” she gasped, trembling as he cornered her. “I’m the captain! You need me!”

“And yet, here we are,” he replied, a cruel smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, a predator savoring the moment before the kill. “You’ll learn what it means to be hounded.”

In that moment, the domineering captain was no more. Lady Tide stood before him, stripped of her authority, her composure shattered, staring into the depths of Theodore’s vengeful eyes, and she realized that her games had finally caught up to her.

“Lady Tide,” he spoke, the name dripping from his lips like poison, “you’ve used me as a pawn in your twisted game, but now the tables have turned.”

Her eyes widened, a flicker of panic igniting within them as she backed away, pressing against the wooden wall of the cabin, a prisoner in her own domain. “Theo, please—” she stammered, her voice shaky, the bravado that once radiated from her now a flickering candle in the tempest.

“Please?” he echoed, a cruel smile twisting his mouth. “You think that word will save you? You think I care for your pleas after what you’ve done?” He advanced, closing the distance, his heart pounding with a chaotic mix of vengeance and pain.

“Don’t do this!”Lady Tide’s voice trembled, desperation lacing her words.“You don’t have to—”

“Don’t I?” he interrupted, eyes darkening as he grasped her wrists, pinning her against the wall. “You took everything from me—my love, my choice. Now, I’ll take from you what you hold most dear.”

He pressed his body against hers, the heat of his anger igniting a fire within him. Her eyes flashed with a mixture of fear and defiance, but he relished the moment, feeling the power shift beneath his fingertips. “You’re the one who wanted loyalty forged in blood, remember?”

“No, please!” she begged, breath hitching, her impudence fading as she realized the depths of his intentions. “I can give you anything, anything you want!”

“Can you?” he hissed, leaning in closer, their faces inches apart. “You’ve already taken everything I wanted.” With a swift motion, he captured her mouth with his, a kiss that was more an act of punishment than affection. She struggled against him, but he was unyielding, a storm unleashed, and the remnants of her power washed away like the tide retreating into the sea.

“Stop!” Lady Tide gasped, but her words fell on deaf ears, drowned out by the tumultuous surge of anger coursing through him. “Don’t do this to me, Theo!”

He pulled back, his gaze icy. “But I will. You’ll know the pain of losing what you love most.”

Her eyes widened, realization dawning upon her. “You can’t—”

“Can’t I?” he interrupted again, his voice low and menacing. “You’ve made me a monster; let me show you how it feels to be hunted.”

With a sudden ferocity, he forced her down, pinning her beneath him, the weight of his body a relentless reminder of the power he had reclaimed. The cabin creaked around them, the echoes of their past mingling with the darkness of the present.

“No, please!” she whimpered, but her pleas only fueled his resolve, igniting a fire within him that demanded satisfaction. “I don’t want this! You can't do this to me!

A cruel laugh escaped his lips, reverberating through the cabin like thunder. “Is that what you’re worried about?” He leaned closer, their faces mere inches apart. “You think I care? I’m going to fill you with my seed, Lady Tide. You’ll know what it means to be at the mercy of another’s desires.”

“No!” she screamed, struggling beneath him, but he relished her resistance, feeding off the chaos that crackled in the air. “Please, don’t do this! I’ll do anything—just stop!”

“Anything?” he mocked, a twisted smile curling his lips as he grasped her thighs, pulling her closer. “You should have thought of that before you chose to sacrifice Seraphina. You’ve always been the one to play with hearts, but now it’s your turn to feel the sting of betrayal.”

As he thrust into her, the reality of his actions settled in, a dark satisfaction blooming within him. She writhed beneath him, tears mingling with defiance, and in that moment, he felt powerful, reclaiming the narrative of his life.

“Look at you now,” he taunted, voice heavy with disdain. “Begging for mercy from the very man you thought you could control. You’ve played the puppet master, but now the strings are cut.”

Each movement was a statement of dominance, a reclamation of the power she had stolen from him, and he reveled in it. “You wanted loyalty?” he whispered, driving deeper, the pleasure and pain entwining as he filled her, pushing her to the brink. “Here’s your loyalty, Lady Tide. Bound by blood, marked by betrayal.”

Her cries faded into whimpers, and in that moment, he felt a grim satisfaction,the power he had craved surging through his veins, wrapping around him like a dark cloak. He watched her expression shift from defiance to despair, the echoes of her once indomitable spirit dimming in the face of his vengeance.

He released himself within her, the act felt like both a victory and a curse, a dark bond forged in the ruins of love and betrayal. In the dim light of the cabin, their silhouettes merged into a single shadow, two souls forever marked by the scars of the past.

October 9

Day 8 - Ghost Ship

'This little port village used to be nothing. Hardly a blip on a map, and only really standing because of the number of fisherman. Everything changed one day, when it appeared.'

It had been an ordinary day in the village of Bredon. Many of the men in the village were hard at work fishing on boats or on the dock while children played around with their friends. Everything was normal until a strange fog began to roll in from the sea. In the heart of the fog, a couple of the fisherman could make out the faint appearance of a massive ship slowly moving towards the village. As the ship got closer, a couple of the fisherman were able to get a closer look at it. Even without the fog, the ship itself would've been difficult to see, as it was mostly intangible. The flag and sails were in tatters and the wood was old and cracked in several places. When the strange ship passed through one of the fisherman's boats, the boat vanished into the fog entirely, along with the fisherman himself. Seeing this, many of the others still in the area tried to escape, but like the first one, they had ended up swallowed up by the fog.

On that day, the rumors of the mysterious ghost ship had begun, and many more people began to flood into the village, all in hopes of either catching a glimpse of the mysterious ship or trying to get down to the bottom of the mystery.

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