tagSci-Fi & FantasyThe Funhouse

The Funhouse


Liza rode her skateboard through the carnival, whipping around bustling bodies. The bi-racial tomboy—Indian and Caucasian—had her dark hair in a bun. She was short with an average build, a punk-rock girl wearing black skinny jeans, Van shoes, and retro Captain Power tee. Her arms decorated with several bracelets.

At Liza's side was her bestie, Rana. The American girl, with Pakistani ancestry, was long and lanky with midnight hair which blew in the cool autumn breeze. She crouched a little lower on her board, keeping her balance.

The crowd yelled at the duo as they recklessly weaved in and out of the pedestrians.

"Fuck off, gramps!" The brash Liza said with a heavy-voice. She saluted the old man with a middle finger. She kick-flipped down the concrete steps while Rana slid down the handrail. They both landed perfectly and rolled away.

Liza took her eyes off the path and winked back to her friend with cocky smirk. Before she could look forward again, she bumped into what felt like a brick wall. The board went out from under her, and she crashed to her back.

"Hey, jerk!" Rana scowled. She jumped off the board and kicked it to her hand.

"Easy," the blonde brute said to Rana while offering his hand to Liza. "She ran into me."

Liza swatted the kind gesture away and stood to her feet. "I'm good," she growled.

Rana wrinkled her forehead upon recognizing the guy. "Brock?"

The chiseled jawed athlete appeared shocked, but he covered it with a smile. "Hey, uh... Rana!"

"That's fucked up what you did." Rana's brows arched over her fiery glare.

"I told you it was an accide—"

"Not that, dummy," Liza blurted. "She's talking about our girl, Hilary. You fucked her and never called her."


Rana rolled her eyes at him. She took Liza by the arm, hoping to walk her away. "Come on. Forget about this asshole."

Liza pulled her arm free, her evil eye never straying from Brock.

"It was a drunk hookup," Brock said. "I don't know why she'd expect anything more."

"Because of what you promised her," Liza fired back.

"Come on, Liza." Rana pulled on Liza's arm. "Kyle is waiting out front."

"You and Kyle still dating?" Brock asked Liza.

"Ha! For your information, I am," Liza said. "You just can't control yourself, can you?"

"Don't play," Brock shot back. "I know y'all want me, just like your friend Melani—"

"Hilary," Liza corrected.

"We're leaving." Rana forced her friend away.

Liza curled her lip in disgust at the high-school quarterback. His arrogance repulsed her.

As they walked off, Brock shouted, "When you get tired of fuckin' Manscara to The Cure, give me a call."

Without looking back, Liza flipped him off. "You can keep that shriveled steroid cock to yourself, douche!"

"Rana?" Brock playfully added.

Rana replicated her friend's rude gesture.

As Brock spun back around, Liza snatched a half-full coke from an empty picnic table. She flung the drink his way and connected with the back of his head. The Styrofoam cup exploded, and the drink went flying. Ice and coke wet Brock's blonde hair and browned the collar of his white shirt.

Brock closed his eyes and inhaled a deep breath in an obvious attempt to quell his fury. He glared at the two skater girls.

"You'll do fuck-all," Liza barked.

"You two!" a voice yelled.

Liza and Rana whipped their heads to a pair of cops, who speedily walked them down. "Oh shit," Liza uttered. "Run!"

They hopped back on their skateboards and darted away.

"Hey!" the cop hollered before stopping and grabbing his walkie.

The girls headed to the entrance, to Liza's boyfriend—the getaway driver. As they skidded around a turn, they spotted law enforcement guarding the gate.

"Fuck!" Rana bemoaned. "What are we gonna do?"

The crowd began to thin out, but there were still enough moving bodies to help the girls blend in for the moment.

Liza's eyes nervously searched for an escape.

"We're fucked," Rana said.

"I can help," a shrill voice declared.

Near the funhouse, parked at the steel serrated steps, a little old lady sat in a wheelchair. A light fixture was just above the entrance, which read 'Energyhouse' in bright yellow.

Liza pointed to herself, confused on if the old lady referred to her. With a nod from the elderly woman, Liza hurried over with Rana at her side. "You can help us?"

The frail woman nodded.

"How?" Liza asked.

"Inside." The grey-haired lady gestured toward the entrance.

Rana eyed the strange decorations on the walls: stick-figures entwined in a loving embrace, spaceships blasted off, and stars exploded. "What the fuck is this place?"

"A funhouse," the old lady replied.

"This hag is senile. She'll tell the cops as soon as we're in there," Rana said. "There's gotta be a way to jump the fence behind the place."

"Only way to the back is through here." The elder motioned her weak, shaky hand to the entrance once again.

"Fuck it." Liza snatched Rana's wrist. She shot one final glance over her shoulder, to the cops who were gaining ground through the crowd. She looked back to Rana. "After you?"


A cold mist welcomed them into the funhouse. It sprayed from above the inner entrance, coating their face like a flop of sweat.

"What they hell?" Rana wiped her mouth.

After clearing her eyes, Liza examined the dim room. Giant mirrors made up the wall around two red doors. The word 'Love' was elegantly painted in white on the right door. On the left door, 'Lust' was scribbled across. Liza smirked. "I got love..." referring to her boyfriend, Kyle, "...so let's try lust."

Rana giggled. "You're bad."

Liza pushed open the door to pitch-blackness, so dark she couldn't even see the floor beyond the threshold. She gripped Rana's hand tighter and slowly entered the void. As she crossed over, the darkness withdrew and a beautiful country landscape came into focus. A full moon set high in the starry sky. Everything popped with color: vibrantly green hillsides, sparkling black pond, and a bright red barn off in the distance. "Wow... where the fuck are w—" She stopped herself when realizing her complete and utter nakedness. The night breeze tickled her warm exotic body. She palmed her humble breasts, covering her small brown nipples, and turned to her friend, only to find that Rana was on the opposite side of a glass wall. "What is going on..."

Rana stood on the beach under a dusky sun. Her narrow feet were buried in the white sand, but her light-tan body was in the open for all to see. She draped one arm over her swooping breasts, crossed her legs, and put her other hand over her pussy. She looked to Liza, shouted.

Liza couldn't hear Rana from behind the glass. She pounded her fist against the solid surface, but it was no use. She stepped away and took a minute to figure things out. Suddenly, her body tingled, her thoughts slid. In her stomach, she could feel a thousand butterflies fluttering, like her heart. She tried to shake the strange sensation. "Oooohhh!" she moaned as a tickling tremor plummeted into her pussy. "What is—uh!" The breeze caressed her ribcage. The grass tickled the soles of her small feet. A wave of chill-bumps prickled up her arm, and spread all over her body: down her sides, up her thighs, and met in the middle, her center. "Ah-ha—Ooooo!" She cupped her crotch and clamped her thighs together, hoping to stifle the sensation. She peered back through the glass wall.


"The mist at the front door!" Rana recalled as the tickle in her crotch intensified. She crossed her long legs even tighter, one foot on top of the other with toes still dug into the sand. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled. She bent over at the waist and rumbled like an active volcano. She didn't even think to check on Liza. Controlling her body was taking her full concentration. She expelled a heap of rapid breaths.

"Rana?" a voice called out.

Rana froze upon hearing the familiar voice. "Kyle, uh, Liza is not here right now. Can you, uh—"

"I didn't come here for Liza," Kyle said. The pale, boney guy sported thicket of dark hair which swooshed across his forehead. His nails were painted black, lip pierced.

Rana shyly glanced up. Upon seeing him as naked as her, his large cock dangling in the wind, she averted her eyes back to the sand.

"I came here for you." Kyle stepped in front of her.

Rana, who was still bent at the waist, covering herself, spotted the blurry sight of Kyle's manhood in her peripheral. "What do you mean?"

Kyle helped straighten Rana's posture. He looked into her dark eyes. "You entered the 'Lust' room, didn't you? Well, this is what you lust for."

"Are you really Kyle?"

Kyle tucked a dark strand of hair behind her ear. "I am for tonight."


"You—" Liza couldn't even get the words out. She clenched her jaw. As Kyle and Rana became uncomfortably close, Liza pounded on the glass wall again. "Hey! You better not fuck that bitch, Kyle! Kyle!"

At that moment, a force roughly pressed Liza against the wall. Her breasts, dark nipples, smushed against the glass. She tried to fight it, but whoever held her in place had strength.

"Who the fuck are you?" Liza demanded with her cheek mashed against the glass. She kicked back, hoping to connect with his testicles, but he simply caught her ankle and brushed his thumb across her soft sole. She curled her toes, straightened them, fighting the tickle.

"You know who I am," the stranger said.

Liza's eyes broadened. "Brock!"

"The one you secretly lust for?" Brock asked.

"You wish!" Liza gnarred. Something gently probed between her firm ass-cheeks. The stranger used one arm to pin her against the wall while the other meaty paw held up her foot. That could only mean one thing. Liza's face flushed at the thought. "Is that your fuckin' cock?"

Brock laughed, his breath tickling the nape of her neck.

Liza squirmed with all her mite and finally broke free from his hold. She spun around, ready to fight, but upon noticing his huge cock, she became distracted. Her eyes lingered for a second before darting back to Brock's beaming face. "You're the one behind all of this?"

"No," Brock said. "This place grants wishes, so to speak, for love or lust. You chose lust, so you get me."

Liza covered her exposed body once again. "I don't lust for you."

"Apparently you do," Brock returned. "That's why you got so mad at me. It wasn't because I played hit-it and quit-it with your friend. You were jealous she fucked me to begin with."

Liza disagreed with a reluctant shake of the head.

"You can lie to people, but you can't lie to yourself." Brock approached her with his palms upward in a submissive gesture. "But don't worry, I'll never know about it."

"What are you then?"

"...just your imagination," Brock sung in tempo with the Temptations.

Liza snagged his wrist and poked her finger into his forearm. "But, I can feel you."

"The mind is powerful." Brock showed half-cocked grin.

"Then... if this is my dream..." Liza bowed her sight, sighed, then looked back up. Her soft expression sharpened. Her brows slanted in a lustful anger. "...you already know I want it rough."

Brock winked but was met with a slap which knocked him on the grass. Liza followed him down, straddling him and pinning his arms. Her eyes were wild with excitement.


Rana uncovered her breasts. Her brown nipples were large, flat, but stiff with stimulation. They shared a kiss under the orange sunset. No longer did she worry about where she was, how she got there, or her friend next door. All she cared about was the moment, the moment she longed for ever since Liza introduced them.

Kyle guided her down on a beach towel. His lips peppered her neck, over her bosoms, and down below her navel.

Rana closed her eyes, licked her lips. She whimpered as he nibbled on her pussy. She tossed one long leg over his shoulder while digging her other foot into the sand, wiggling her toes. Her body felt sensitive to every touch, nerves hyperactive. She pinched her nipples, arched her back, and shivered. She looked down, watching him as he lapped away. "Keep goin', keep goin'..."

Kyle devoured her. He hummed, smacked, and whipped his head from side to side.

Rana hunched forward off the towel with a shocked expression. Her mouth was agape, big round eyes distended. She raised her other leg and trapped his head between her slim thighs. "Oh-my-god, oh-my-god. Oh. My..." Her face tightened as though staring into the sun. Her body locked up. The sensation was intense, like a fuse from the tips of her fingers and toes, lightly moving up her legs and arms toward her center, meeting in an explosion. She curled further into a tight ball. "Yeeeaaaahhh. Oh fuck!"


The moon spotlighted Liza as she vivaciously rode Brock's long, thick cock. She pushed off the grass with her toes, sliding up and down his length. She was animalistic. Her glare, and clamped teeth, made her appear angry. Her hips thrust faster, firm backside dimpled, and her small round breasts bounced. A titillating itch contorted her scowl into an ugly cry-face, her movement lost rhythm.

Brock wrapped his strong arms around her, pulled her against his muscular chest, and hammered upward.

"Grrrrr!" Liza bit into his shoulder, just hard enough to leave imprints. Every particle of her body vibrated. She clung to him. The build-up of tension was almost too much to take. Suddenly, all that pressure released, and she oozed on his cock. "Mmmmm-oooooohhhhh."

Brock rolled her over and roughly positioned her to all-fours.

Liza's brain was switched off, so she went right along with Brock's direction. On her hands and knees, she looked frazzled, confused. Her bun was loose, her dark hair disheveled. She blinked as though trying to bring life back into her eyes. She glared over her shoulder as he gathered behind her. The lascivious snarl reappeared on her face.


Under the deep sunset, Rana sprawled on her back across the beach towel, her thin legs around Kyle's waist. He thrust softly, gently, just how she liked it. A tickling itch grew in her pussy. She unlocked her ankles and stiffened her legs in the air. She panted in his ear as his hips kept a steady pace. The fading sun sparkled in her watery eyes.

Kyle sped up, causing Rana's long legs to ride even higher up his side.

Rana breathed a slight whine each time Kyle made contact with her dripping wet pussy. Her legs flailed in the air. She pointed her big toe but curled the rest. She cradled her slender breasts as they rocked with the rhythm of Kyle's thrust. She bowed her back off the ground, squirmed, almost twisting from him before falling back. She expelled a heavy sigh. "You're gonnnnaaa..." Her lips continued moving but no words came out. "Mmmmmm!"


Liza's body shook violently. Her top half flopped to the grass, but her tiny bubble butt remained in the air. As he squeezed her hips and yanked her into each plunge, she growled and clawed into the soft soil. Her sharp, angered expression once again softened. She buried her face into the crook of her right arm and let loose a muffled groan. "Ooouuuuuu!" She jolted back up on her hands as he repeatedly sent ripples of pleasure through her small but round backside. "This feels so—oooouuuuuu—this feels sooooo good. Ooouuu!"

Brock picked her up and walked her to the glass wall. Standing, he pressed her against the surface once more.

Liza raised her head. She came eye to eye with Rana from across the wall, who seemed to be in the same position. Both were one their tiptoes, bosoms squished against the glass. The last thing she wanted to see was Rana ravaged by Kyle, not even inches from her face. Liza sent her friend an evil eye.

Rana's body jounced from the fast, repetitive thrust. Her face tightened in a sneeze, but she fought it, and for a split second, forced a dirty look back at Liza. She gestured her head toward Brock, admonishing Liza for being a traitor.

Liza sneered and turned from her friend. She looked over her shoulder as Brock entered her. He pounded her drenched center, causing Liza's legs to uncontrollably shake. Her knees knocked, so she dug her small toes into the soft grass for stability. "Oooh... my..." Liza said in a weak, enervated voice. The orgasm misted her eyes and stripped her of her ability to stand. She melted through his arms and crumpled to the grass, looking off into another dimension. She just counted her breaths, twitching on the soft soil.


Liza staggered through the exit. Her clothes magically reappeared, but a flop of sweat covered her forehead. She looked to her right.

An old lady leaned against a fencepost. She balanced on one foot while emptying sand from her shoe. Her black hair had streaks of grey, her face pruned from years under the sun. She glanced up and seemed to notice Liza. She froze with a mystified expression. "Liza? What happened to you?"

"Rana?" Liza crouched over a puddle, her face displaying the same wrinkled years as Rana. "What the fuck happened to us?"

"We're old," Rana started to cry.

"Oh, hush!" a voice said.

A blonde stepped out from the exit, pushing a wheelchair. A long dress covered her rectangle body, the same garb the elder wore at the entrance.

"Can't be..." Liza said.

"Yay!" The blonde struck a pose. "I'm young again."

Liza balled her fist and started toward the woman, but aches riddled her body and arthritis loosened her hand. "What have you done to us?"

"You've exhausted yourself with a sensation most won't ever feel," the lady said. "But! You'll get your youthful exuberance back soon enough. You just have to wait at the entrance, entice others to enter."

"How many do we need?" Rana asked.

"I needed two," the blonde said cheerfully. "So... double that."

The two friends, Liza and Rana, despondently looked to one another.

"By the way, one hour is to a year. So, get to work before you age any further. You might need this." The lady shoved the wheelchair to them. A bright smile stretched across her face. "Ta-ta!"

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