"What have we here, a new specimen," I shouted to the crowd. "I wonder what I will find inside this beautiful body? Many mysteries. Such a shame, she was taken so soon. I wonder what her life could have been." I raised my cleaver. "But now it's time to tear her open and make her into something new."
Laugh maniacally. Thwack! Kara screams. Children scream.
I used every short break to find new ways to tease my beautiful corpse, touching her face, hair, neck. I grazed her breasts, bare under the thin sheet. I used every performance to introduce new lines of double entendre. And the strobes pulsed on.
It felt like we'd seen a hundred groups of guests by now. I was thirsty, and my voice was getting hoarse from the screaming.
It was odd though; I had really started to look forward to the faces of the audience. Tom creeped them out... but I was the closer. It was me who made them shriek and cry -- a dead girl come to life and trying to grab them.
That was me, over and over. A screaming dead girl. Everything felt insanely weird. The constant flashing lights on Tom's face made him look truly evil. And he kept saying things like "I'm going to stick this thing in her" and "I'm going to make a new girl to do my bidding" and "I'm going to cut her open"...
I tried to tell myself it was for the effect, but after three hours, I knew he was threatening me with something. Everything felt surreal and real and not real.
And yet, I was so turned on that I knew I'd soaked a spot on the back of the hospital gown at that point. I was aching.
All I could think was that this was the most fucked-up thing I've ever done.
And then I felt a hand on me, down there. I snapped my head to look at Tom, and he clapped his other hand over my mouth.
I realized instantly that the table must be open somewhere in the back, because his hot strong hand was inside the box with me, slipping inside my hospital gown, fingers spreading across my stomach, my nakedness. My body flinches, inside the box, and behind his fingers covering my mouth I try to say, "Stop!" He looks at me sternly and shakes his head.
"Very quiet, Kara. You must be very quiet. There are hundreds of people in this building right now. And a group of them are right around the corner."
"Please," I say, but it is muffled behind his hand. And to be honest, I don't know what I'm pleading for. Please stop? Please go on?
But of course he knows which, even if I don't.
"Do you promise to be quiet?" he whispers. I nod silently.
Tom takes his hand away from my face, and slips it instead down to my breast. No fumbling, no wandering, he goes straight for his target. His fingers slide inside the open gown and surround my breast, cupping, squeezing. My nipple immediately shrivels up, painfully hard and aroused, and he rubs his palm over it. His left hand is on my belly, but not moving.
The cat yowls from around the corner. It's showtime. Tom takes his hand off my chest, but leaves the other under the table, where it is hidden by the props. "Close your eyes now, and behave," he whispers.
The group walks up. Tom waves the cleaver in one hand; his other is stroking my stomach.
"What have we here," he yells to the crowd. "A new specimen to dissect! What will I find as I open her up and inspect her insides? What mysteries will be revealed?"
He raises the knife. "This beautiful dead girl can't even imagine what I'm going to do to her."
He drops the knife into the meat with one hand, just as the other slides down my stomach and between my legs, hidden beneath the table and sheet. I open my eyes on cue, and I scream and reach for the spectators.
I dare not move below the waist, or else the whole fake tabletop might fall down. I can't ruin the illusion.
I'm screaming, in pretend fear, and the guests are squealing and running away. In an instant, his fingers have pressed down. He is cupping me down there, holding the damp flesh like he held my breast a minute before. I lie back in my "dead" position on the table, and I give up. I can't stop him. His fingers begin to move.
Kara is looking at me, and the strobe lights make her eyes appear widened with fright, but she can't hide that mouth. Her lips are parted, wet. I can see her chest heaving as her breathing speeds up. She likes what I'm doing to her under the table, and she likes being at my total mercy.
Her pussy is downy, slippery. I stroke it lightly with my fingertips, and watch as she shivers. I caress her down there as gently and slowly as I would her cheek or her brow.
Kara wants to not like this. But her juice is covering my hand. Her thighs are damp. She's been turned on and untouched inside this prison of a wooden box for several hours now. I imagine for a second what her pussy must smell like right now, and wish I could put my face between her legs.
My cock is hard, straining against my pants, when the cat yowls.
I raise my free hand and put a finger to my lips. She nods, silently, wide-eyed. Kara is all in now. I put my hand over her eyes like a coroner with a real corpse. "Close your eyes, sweet girl. It's time to be dead."
The group approaches the fourth wall. They look around and gasp and marvel at the gory scene. I begin my lines, and I increase the pressure between Kara's legs.
"What have we here? A dead body... and I can do anything I want to! I'm the doctor!" She struggles to remain still as I push my middle finger into her creamy wet.
I laugh maniacally. I am stalling now, dragging out the scene. "Such a shame, she was taken so soon. I wonder what her life could have been."
I wave the cleaver around over Kara's slack face, as my fingers dip inside her slick cunt. "I'm going to make this dead body come alive! I'm going to turn it back into something beautiful!"
I can feel her hips beneath the table now, she's pushing against me.
"What will I find as I open this corpse up and inspect the insides? What mysteries will be revealed?" I push two fingers deep inside her. My hand is covered in her. I raise the knife high.
My thumb lands on her clit, it's hard and slippery wet. I press, and swirl, and diddle Kara, as I drop the knife on top of her with a thud.
She opens her eyes, screams, and reaches toward the audience. I can hear a rhythm in the scream this time, a pulsing that seems to match the strobe lights, my hand in her cunt, and our synchronized breathing.
I finger-fuck her harder, faster. My thumb is rubbing her frantically, and she screams longer than usual.
But I can't have her coming -- not yet. I slide my hand out of her. I drag it deliberately up her body, against her skin, and wipe Kara's juices on her stomach as the guests move out of sight.
Her fake scream trails off and she turns back to me. Her eyes are dilated and her breathing is ragged. "I think I hate you," she whispers.
I shake my head at Kara, tenderly, like a father might at a confused child. "I don't think you do, darling." I take my hand out of the box, and put it over her face. I know she can smell her own pleasure, and it both embarrasses her and arouses her.
I pull my hands off Kara just as one of the tour guides doubles back into our room. He's a snarly, self-involved kid that I recognize from the college. "It's almost 1:00 am, Dr. Davis. That was the last group. The front doors are locked. Mr. Nelson says to remind everyone that breakdown is tomorrow morning at nine sharp, and be here or else you won't get paid for tonight."
I nod, and he goes on. We hear him stop at the witches room, and repeat the message.
I reach for the audience curtain and draw it closed. People are still all around us, but they are attending to their own clean-up duties, packing their own props. I know we have maybe ten minutes before Nelson comes looking for me. Fifteen if we're lucky.
We are alone in a black fabric room, the lights pulsing over us. Kara's eyes are fixed on me, and her lips are open. She looks desperately aroused, and fearful.
I lift the table-top off of her. The scene below is quite lurid; her gown is open, and she lies there, naked and luscious. Even under the strobe lights, I can clearly see a gleam on her sex. This girl gets wetter than any I've ever known. Her nipples are still hard. She clutches the gown and closes it over herself.
I was going to cum one minute ago, and now I just want to leave. I'm alone with him. He's going to hurt me.
So I'll scream if I have to. I've been screaming all night, I can do it again.
He puts his arm under my shoulders, and pulls me up to a sitting position. I can feel the soaked cotton beneath me, and the wooden table beneath that. He pulls my hands away from my gown, and holds my arms apart.
Then, I taste him. Tom's mouth is on mine, and I realize in a millisecond that I wanted this from the first time I thrust my nipples in his face. His lips are urgent, passionate. My inside melts, and the throbbing starts between my legs again. His chin is scratchy, stubbly, a new sensation.
I'm not going to scream. I finally do what I've been holding back on all night. I know what's coming, knowing what is about to happen to me. I put my arms around his neck and lean into him, giving up.
Tom groans, deep and low like an animal. His hands are on my breasts, roughly, eagerly. His thumbs are on my nipples, circling them. His rough face moves down from my mouth -- to my neck, my collarbone -- and then he is on my tits. He is suckling me, biting me, squeezing me.
I kiss the top of his head, warm dark curly hair... and in some faraway part of my brain I realize he's still wearing the blood-stained lab coat.
He pushes me back against the table. I am reclining now on the flat surface, the meat and fake legs long gone. He puts his finger to his lips again, telling me to be quiet.
Kara nods, like she understands to be quiet, but something tells me she doesn't really. I drag the tip of my tongue down her belly, and now I finally get what I've wanted for hours -- that juicy wet cunt in my face. She smells like peaches and ocean water and roses and I drink her in.
In broad flat strokes, I lick up her wetness, bathing her clean from all the sticky need she's been keeping in all night. She gasps, and mewls.
I pinch the inside of her thigh to remind her to stay quiet, and she turns her face to bite the green cloth of the gown that is bunched up around her. I hear her moaning into the cotton. It inflames me. I move under her, her legs resting on my shoulders.
My tongue is all over her now -- circling her swollen clit, plunging into her hole. She's never had it like this before. Whatever other fumbling teenage losers may have ever been blessed with the access, they didn't have my experience.
In the strobe lights, I can see her. Kara is gone. Her hands are on her nipples, mindlessly, but she has left her head. She's with me now -- down in her dark red center, where all the throbbing and tingling and swelling and aching of the last eight hours has come together in one urgent missile rushing toward something she's never imagined.
My face is sticky with her juice now. I draw a line down with my mouth, my sloppy tongue coming to a point, downward, downward, to where the tight pink bud of her asshole has been marinating in Kara juice all night in that box. She squeals into the mouthful of cotton. She thinks she wants to tell me no.
But Kara can't say anything now.
As my tongue teases her slippery ass, I begin to use my hands. I push one finger into her pussy, then two. She is tight in the way only a teenager can be. My thumb rubs her clit again, steady circles, steady pressure.
And I unbutton my pants.
Three fingers in Kara now, pushing in and out. I'm pushing in time to the throbbing strobe light. The sloshy wet noise of her cunt sucking up my fingers is almost more than I can bear, but I am working toward one goal.
All night, I have been hiding a painfully swollen erection under this lab coat -- holding on, patiently. I push away my pants, my underwear, and finally free my hard cock. While I work Kara, I stroke myself.
The head is angry red, and leaking its own slippery juice. It wants pink. It wants Kara. I've wanted her since I saw her outside the pumpkin patch. I'm ready to fuck this girl.
But I want her to know what getting fucked by me means. I focus now. She is whimpering and moaning, with the rhythm of my hand. As I push my fingers further into her, I place my wet mouth right over her clit. I suck her and lick her, the strobes pulsing in time. I drill my tongue, my lips, my whole mouth is on her like a laser -- and I can feel her orgasm start.
Kara begins to shudder and cry, and her hand grasps for my hair. I stand up, suddenly -- moving my wet sloppy hand onto her clit, never missing a beat, rubbing furiously, as I guide my thick aching cock towards her. I rub the head against her slippery cunt lips, giving her just one second to realize what's coming.
She is tight, and she cries out softly as I slide my cock into her wetness. The endorphins counter the pain of my entering her, and then Kara's legs wrap around me, and she is climbing up me. I grab roughly at her tits with one hand, and with the other I reach around her slim waist, and pull her closer to me, fucking her, filling her. Kara is over the edge now, her eyes screwed shut, her orgasm coming in waves as I fuck her. She is bucking against me, crying into the sodden gown as I bear down, filling her hot wet cunt and pressing against her. As she comes, her pussy spasms around me, a red satin vise squeezing me. Her pale breasts are bouncing as I fuck her on the table, and with the strobe lights on her face and blonde hair, she looks like a porn star from an amateur 80's tape.
Kara opens her eyes, and looks straight into mine. The fearful girl is gone, and all I see now is glazed beauty and spent lust. She is a nymph, a creature underwater with ocean light pulsing over her, and I feel her squeezing me inside. Her eyes still locked on mine, Kara licks her lips -- and with that one lascivious gesture, it's my turn.
My balls tighten, and I clutch her naked body to me as I pound her. She is rocking against me, and my prick is exploding inside, shooting her full of my seed. I bury my face in her shoulder, grunting, biting her, as I pound, pound, pound. Her pussy squeezes me, milking me, and my cock gives up every last drop to my beautiful corpse.
We stay locked there for a second... exhaling, sweating, coming down from the adrenaline... when the cat yowls.
Tom looks toward the curtain, slightly panicked. "Someone's coming."
I can't help myself, and start giggling. "Or came." I can still feel him inside me, thick, his semen dribbling out onto my thighs.
He looks back down at me and smiles. My cheeks are hot, and I am suddenly so thirsty. He pulls my costume gown back over my shoulders, and kisses my cheek. "I like much you better undead. Let's go figure out how to spend the rest of our Halloween night."