Brainwave of Horror Ch. 1byJafar©
The Brainwave of Horror Ch. 1: A Trilogy of Tales of Terror to Titillate and Traumatize
A man watches his wife and daughter turned into whores; a woman watches her control crumble as those around her turn into ... things; a young man watches his mother survive in a world where sex is not reviled; better watch YOURSELF on ... Halloween.
See No Evil: Contains sexually explicit and politically incorrect material. If you shouldn't be reading this, or if it might offend you, simply stop now.
Legalese: All actors and actresses are over the age of consent. Proof of age is on file. Any similarity of any character, event or place to any actual person, event or place, is purely coincidental. This is all fantasy, and the actors are all professionals -- do not try any of this at home.
Archiving: You are welcome to discreetly repost or archive this, just do not change it, steal from it or claim credit for it.
For the author, the third tale was the most fun (it probably shows), although the first had some bright moments. The second tale is for whomever it's about power as much as it's about sex.
A pumpkin walks into a bar.
It's Halloween night, and he left his broomstick and its team of bats in a parking space outside.
He orders a bloody mary and has a few peanuts while the crowd at the bar stares. A couple teens in the corner snicker and slip outside.
The pumpkin throws the drink back, then walks outside again, only to find his broomstick and bats missing. Frowning, he marches back into the bar.
Throwing open the door, he growls. The ceiling of the bar bursts into flame, then rips open and a huge baleful red eye with a slitted pupil leers in from above.
"Now that I have your attention," the pumpkin declares, "I will make an announcement. My name is Jack O'Lantern, and this is Halloween night, and someone just stole my broomstick and bats. This pisses me off. Who stole them?"
Silence and wide eyes are all the patrons produce.
Jack glares at the people, studying them. "I'm going to tell three stories," he says finally, "and when I'm done, if my broom and bats are not back right where I left them, well then, I'm going to do what I did 500 years ago when the last group of people took my broom and bats. And EVEN *I* don't want to do what I did 500 years ago."
"Bartender," he snaps his fingers, "get me another bloody mary. And it's on the house."
The bartender quickly complies -- that eye in the ceiling is pretty scary.
The pumpkin throws back his drink, then speaks. "As I said, my name is Jack. And on Halloween night, I travel the world, creating stories of horror out of the dull tripe that is people's lives. I have done this since the first Halloweens thousands of years ago, so I have many tales to tell.
The first one goes like this ....
Getting the Shock of my Wife (mc?, inc, slut wife)
------- --- ----- -- -- ---- ----- ---- ---- -----
Discourse: Does the world exist? It seems to because it's there again every morning when we wake up, just like we left it the night before. We process the data that we're given. But what if ... the world went weird one day, one very unusual ... Halloween?
How did I get into this?
It was just supposed to be a friendly little game of poker. The same game me and my buddies play every Thursday night.
It was never supposed to be the exposure of previously hidden, shameful sides of my wife, of my family, of me.
The game was held at Stan's place this week. Just like it was five weeks ago.
This time Stan had a cousin that wanted to sit in and play too. Dexter Teufel. Ugly bastard: pot belly, greasy mustache, smug cackle when he laughed, pock-marked skin like some of the Halloween decorations Stan had put around the place for the holiday.
"Let's bump the stakes up a little," Dexter had said an hour into the game.
"Okay," Wally, Rudy and I agreed. Stan just nodded his head.
I had a straight that round!
But Dexter beat it.
The next round I had three of a kind! But Dexter beat it.
I had a full house, queens over nines, but Dexter beat it.
His luck was devilish.
I couldn't believe it when the last was drawn out of my wallet and I realized I was $500 in the hole.
But I had another full house, jacks over tens. I looked at Dexter. He COULDN'T have a higher hand than this. Not again. Nobody has luck like that.
I bet my car title against the $3000 he had won from us.
I ... lost.
"Hey, Richard," Wally said after about thirty seconds of silence, "you okay?"
"Ungh?" I blinked.
"You still with us, buddy?"
"I-- I-- I need my car back."
"Gonna have to put up or shut up," Dexter said, making a show of counting his money.
"But I need-- "
"Whatcha got left to put up for a chance to win it back?" Dexter said, not looking away from his counting.
"Don't do it, man," Wally said. "His luck just isn't right. Cut your losses."
"My house ...." Had I just said that?
"Mmm ... you're on. Stan, deal."
"Don't do it," Wally said again.
I picked up my hand, discarded two, couldn't believe the results: a freakin' straight flush, king high. I was going to win!
Thank God! I needed to get my car back. Or my beautiful, sweet wife Julia would think that I had turned into a horrible loser with a gambling problem. Actually, it seemed I HAD turned into such a loser, but that was irrelevant. I didn't want her to think that.
There were only three hands out of all possible combinations that could beat this. There was simply no way that--
"Hey, Richard," Wally said after a minute of dead silence, "you okay, man?"
"Ungh?" I couldn't believe that Dexter had just laid down a royal flush.
"Man, just breathe," Wally said, "You're not looking so good."
Basically, I had just lost everything that my wife and I had built up during our marriage together.
"Dexter ... I, uh ...."
He was lighting a cigar. "Call me 'sir', Ridkins."
"Call me 'sir'. Or 'Mister Teufel'. But mostly 'sir'."
"Yes, uhm ... sir. There has to be something that we can ...."
"No," he puffed on the stogie, "I don't think there is."
"But ... please ...." He was just looking at me smugly. "... sir."
"Ridkins, Ridkins, how pathetic."
"Well ... you now have almost everything that my wife and I own, and I need to work out some deal. Maybe that makes my life pathetic, but-- "
"No, no, I mean your grovelling. Your grovelling is pathetic. All grovelling should be done from a kneeling position." He looked at me a few moments. "Well?"
Feeling gutted but not having much choice, I sank to my knees. I like to think of that as courageous, as having the guts to swallow my pride and do what I needed to do to get Julia and me out of this mess.
He flicked his hand at me. "You are granted permission to snivel and plead."
"Uhm, sir ... Mr Teufel ... what can I do to ...."
"To renege on your wager? Why, nothing, Ridkins."
"I-- Please-- " I didn't want to cry, not in front of my four buddies, all watching gape-mouthed. But I NEEDED--
"But ... you can wager against me one more time. Like a," -- he sneered and nearly spat with this last word -- "man."
"Please," I shook my head. "I can't. You'll win." I'd learned.
"Well, then, what have you got to sell?"
"What would be worth, hmmm ... $137,263.48 to me? Hmm?"
"I-- " I shook my head, wide-eyed. "Nothing."
Dexter puffed the cigar a couple times, not deigning to look at me. "I hear you have a cute wife, Ridkins."
God! No! Not Julia! "I-- "
"Don't sputter," Dexter pursed his lips.
"I-- I wasn't sputtering."
"You were getting ready to start. And let me finish the details before you have a conniption. NOTHING is involuntary. You bring me your wife tonight. She spends the evening and tomorrow with me. You can pick her up tomorrow night at this time. We do NOTHING that she doesn't want done unto her. If you bring me a lady, I'll return you a proper, pristine lady." He shrugged. "If you bring me a whore, you'll get a cum-soaked whore back. But we play strictly by HER rules.
"Seems you have three options, Ridkins. One, accept the loss of your house, car and pocket change. Two, bet your wife against me and when you lose, accept the loss of your wife, house, car and pocket change. Three, allow me to purchase your wife for twenty-four hours and at the end of that time, get back your wife, house and car. So which is it?"
"I ... uh ...."
"Personally, I'm hoping you cough up a testicle and wager against me."
"I-- I-- I'll ask her if she's willing to spend twenty-four hours with you."
"Smart. Ball-less, but smart. You be sure to tell wifey that if she doesn't consent, I'll be evicting her pretty little heinie tomorrow from my house."
"I-- we-- yes, sir."
"Run and get her now."
"Honey, honey, slow down. What are you talking about?"
"I-- I've done something awful, Julia. I'm DOING something awful. But ... we don't ... have ..."
"Honey, start at the beginning. What's the matter?"
"Julia ... I lost everything."
"You lost everything -- as in you lost it?" she smiled tentatively. "Your marbles?"
"The car ... the house ... and-- "
"Wait a minute? You lost the house and car?!"
Reluctantly, I nodded.
"How?! How, Richard?!"
"I-- I-- "
"I lost them ... gambling."
Slowly, I nodded.
"What are you talking about?! One of your poker buddies thinks he can take our house?! Is this a joke?"
"A new guy. And it's no joke."
"A new guy. Stan's cousin."
"And you what?! Bet him our house?!"
"I-- it just-- "
"I don't believe this! Didn't a little voice pipe up just before you did this horrible thing to say, Richard, this is just ... STUPID??"
"I-- I don't know-- "
"Richard?! You actually lost our house?!"
"I-- things got out of hand."
"NO KIDDING!" She shook her head. "No. No, it's not yours to bet. The house is in my name too. Stan's cousin -- his deal is just bad. It's just too bad, but ... it's not going to happen."
"There ... is ... a way out of this."
She looked at me, eyes angrier than I'd ever seen them. She tapped her foot a couple times while I cast my eyes down. "Well?"
"You-- I can't do this. I'll go offer to let him cut off my pinkie or something."
"Richard! Drop the fake bravado. What do we have to do to fix your mess??"
"He-- he said ...."
"He said ... if you spend twenty-four hours with him, he'll ... give us back our house. And car."
Her mouth was an angry line. "I see." She spun about, took two steps and spun back again. "And who's idea was this?! To prostitute your wife? Hmm?"
"He-- he, uhm ... he's willing to give it all back. The house. The car. And you don't have to ... have sex with him or anything. He was clear on that. If I give you to him for a day, he'll give back everything."
"You bet me, Richard?!"
"No! No, I wouldn't do that! He asked what I have that was worth the house and the car and ... he wanted you."
"God, Richard?! You SOLD me?!"
"No! I'm sort of exchanging you for-- for-- "
"For money?!" Isn't that the definition of "selling", her arched eyebrow and crossed arms said.
"I was going to say for twenty-four hours ...."
"God, Richard! I can't believe you DID this!"
"I ... I can't either ...."
We were silent a couple minutes as she tapped her foot and glowered at me. "No sex?"
"No! No sex! He said he'd play by YOUR rules!"
"And what if he tries to rape me, Richard? What then?"
"You are not the man I married," she say coldly.
"What's going ON out here?!" our daughter Kelsey asked as she stepped into the room. "You guys were just BELLOWING!"
"Your father sold me, Kelsey!"
"What?! What are you talking about?"
"Your father gambled our car away. Then he gambled our house away. Now he's selling me to get them back!"
"Daddy?!" she turned to me. "Is this true?"
"I-- I don't know what-- "
"Daddy?! Is it true?!"
"I guess. Yeah ...."
"Honey, I won't be here tonight," Julia told Kelsey. "Daddy has sold my next twenty-four hours to the man that now owns our house and car in order to get them back."
"The man has assured us that there will be no hanky-panky, at least to your father's satisfaction."
"But Mom, STILL!"
"Kelsey, these are your father's gambling buddies. If he gets out of line, I'll deck him." She kissed our daughter on the forehead. "I'll see you again tomorrow night."
"Be careful, Mom. Call if ... you need anything."
"I will, dear." Then her voice filled with contempt, "Come on, Richard. Let's go. And if you EVER gamble again, I swear, I'll-- "
"I won't, dear. I promise!"
Dexter sat, leaning back in Stan's chair, puffing on a stogie. "The rumors of your beauty were not at all exaggerated, Mrs Ridkins."
Julia's nose was crinkled. She despised cigars. "Yes. I'm told that if I spend twenty-four hours with you, you will correct my husband's idiocy."
"I don't think ANYTHING can correct your husband's idiocy, but I will correct this particular idiotic act of his," Dexter smiled pleasantly.
Julia nodded. "And there are no expectations of any kisses or fondling or anything else of an inappropriate nature?"
"You set the rules on what we do while we're together."
She was quiet a few moments, weighing whether he could be trusted. "Very well. I consent." She coughed. "As long as you stop puffing on those stinky cigars."
"My smoke? Oh, it's not so bad. You'll see. You may even be puffing one yourself soon."
He looked at me. "That's all that we require of you here, Ridkins."
"Let me just say good night to my wife." Dexter just stared at me several seconds. "Please, sir?"
He lightly nodded his head, and Julia and I stepped to the corner. I pressed my cell phone into her hand. "Here. Keep this. If anything happens, you call and I will be over here faster than-- "
"Faster than I can be raped, Richard?" she smiled tightly and nodded. "I'll keep it in mind."
"I do love you, Julia."
"And I am cleaning up a horrible mess that you've made. Do not make me clean up another one. Ever, Richard."
"No, I won't."
Then I stepped out, leaving my beautiful wife of twenty years with Stan and the man that ....
How DID all of this happen?!
In my dream, I had somehow dirtied my pants, which had set off an electronic alarm. Everyone around me knew what the alarm meant and pointed at me, laughing.
My eyes opened and I realized that the alarm was the phone ringing beside the bed.
Ohgod! Don't let him have hurt Julia!
"Yes?" I blurted into the phone.
"Richard?" It was Julia. My stomach dropped. Her voice sounded strained and she was out of breath.
"Julia! Are you okay?! He hasn't hurt you, has he?!"
"Ohgod, honey. He wants me to describe this for you. I'm butt naked. I'm on my knees and elbows, talking into the phone. Dexter is behind me, and he is ... ohgod! ... just sliding in and out of my cunt ... which is wetter than it's EVER been before! I'm about to ... go OUT OF MY FUCKING MIND here! Ohgod, Richard! Why couldn't YOU ever ream me like this?! If you had, I might have ... let you ... I-- I-- aaaiiiieeeee ...!"
A tumbling sound spilled out of the phone.
"Hi, Richard. Dexter here. Sorry about that. My bitch here dropped the phone when she passed out from delight. Speaking of which, how have you been mistreating this poor whore? Have you NEVER given her an orgasm?"
"No!" I shook my head in horror of this whole conversation, "No, that's not Julia. She doesn't talk like that! She doesn't use words like that!"
"Hmm. Well, she does now." The line went dead as Dexter hung up.
No, it couldn't be. Julia had been mad enough to want to hurt me when we parted a few hours ago, but this wasn't her ... it just couldn't be. She'd never do anything like this!
I rolled over, beat my pillow twice, then laid there, going through the motions of trying to sleep while my mind churned.
It just ... couldn't ... be her ...
I barely came awake the next morning. My mind had finally knotted itself up so tight about 4:30 that it must have strangled off consciousness.
And lack of consciousness do not pass for sleep: I felt like I was going to throw up, I was so tired.
And so guilty.
What came over me last night?! How could I bet and lose our house?!
How could I let a stranger purchase my wife?!
Kelsey was silent during breakfast, glaring at me with contempt. Our son Jason had already left for his 7:00 calc class.
"Honey, I-- "
"Don't even TRY to make up excuses, Daddy," she pursed her lips.
We continued in silence until I left for work.
About 8:30, Wally wandered into my office. "Any word on how Julia is?"
I opened my mouth and shut it. "None." I ignored this morning's call -- that simply could not have been my wife on the phone.
It had just been a nightmare.
"Do you think she'll ever be the same?"
"What ... do you mean?"
"Well, has she ever been through the experience of being sold before?"
I couldn't believe ... he would have the gall to .... "You stinking pig. Get out of my office,"
"Jesus saves, Richard."
"Get the hell out of my office!"
He backed out, a faint smile on the corners of his lips. God-damned Christian vulture, hovering around catastrophes, waiting to feed.
I spent my time fretting, going through the motions of working while my mind dwelled on my wife. And what was being done to her.
And, after this morning's call, what was being done BY her ....
About 9:30, my phone rang and I numbly answered.
"JULIA! Are you OKAY?! Are you READY to come HOME?! He hasn't HURT you, has he?!"
"I'm fine, Richard. But I don't think I can EVER 'go home' now. And no, Dexter hasn't 'hurt' me-- just ... opened my eyes a little."
"Honey, I am SO sorry. It's been a long night and you've just been through a traumatic experience. Let me come pick you up and you can get some rest and when you're feeling better, we can talk about this and how it will NEVER happen again. I promise."
"I don't know ... it hasn't been so bad. And no, I can't come home right now, I'm riding Dexter's cock."
"You-- you're what?"
"(sigh) I'm squatted over Dexter, his penis buried inside my pelvis as I bounce slickly up and down on it now."
"I-- (swallow) Julia, I know you're angry, but-- don't tell lies just to hurt-- "
"Oh, I'm not angry, honey, I'm ... enlightened. And horny."
"Julia, I know you just want to hurt me now ... I don't blame you ... but-- "
"I don't want to hurt you, honey, I just want to satisfy this buuuurning between my legs!" Giggling, then muffled speech as she spoke away from the phone. "I know! My pussy is just drooling all OVER you, isn't it! You're right! It's FUN telling him the truth!" Then clear speech as she talked into the phone again. "Sweetie, you HAVEN'T satisfied me SEXUALLY for YEARS! Actually, you've NEVER satisfied me sexually!"
"Julia, I don't-- I don't-- "
"Aaawww, poor baby. You don't understand?"
"No, I don't!"
"Well, let me put it a little simpler for you. After all these years with you, I am so cock-starved that any real man will just open me up like a juicy butterfly! And now that my legs have been spread by a man's dick instead of a two inch piece of spaghetti, they won't EVER be able to close again. Not and still be satisfied. And I won't EVER let you cheat me of my satisfaction again, Richard."
"Julia, I-- I never cheated you of-- "