The Pumpkin Patch

This is a Halloween Story Contest 2023 story, so please vote! This is in the erotic horror category. All characters engaged in sexual activity are adults.

The thunder rolled slowly over the land, the rumble's low frequencies shaking buildings as the storms slowly moved in. At Zephyr Farms, the patrons attending the annual fall festival reached for their phones and checked the weather. The line of storms was bad, with a long north-south running line of deep red and orange coloration. The scramble was on to escape the farms before the storms pummeled the land.

Those up in the pumpkin patch were at the most risk. The patch was set high up on the hill whereas the farm's main buildings were down in the valley. It was not a long walk but a walk nonetheless, and most people had taken the farm tractor ride to get to the patch. The somewhat worried patrons scrambled, some managing to get on the last ride back down, some walking fast down the hill weaving through fields and the nursery areas of the farms to get to their cars.

The clouds rolled in low and dark, roiling gray and fat with moisture. Thunder boomed as lightning exploded, jumping from cloud to cloud and more dangerously cloud to ground. But the storm's slow speeds had allowed for an escape for most of the patrons at Zephyr Farms, so by the time that the storms were fully overhead at the Farms, the torrential rains came down so hard that some localized flooding was expected but none of the patrons were caught in it.

A bolt of lightning struck the ground just near the pumpkin patch. The clap of thunder from that strike rattled every window at the farm. It made quite a few people jump. But no one at the farm knew or could have guessed that the random strike of lightning had awakened a malevolent presence that had lurked on the grounds near the farm for eons.

That spirit stirred, the jolt of electricity passing through the soil jarring it from its long slumber. The spirit had no underlying gender nor did it have a memory of itself. It simply returned to wakefulness. But now that it was awakened, it realized its hunger. A deep, consuming hunger.

The following day, an exact week before Halloween, the passage of the prior night's storm had left the skies utterly cloudless and the air crisp and cool. Even though it was a weekday, the pumpkin patch was a busy place but now it was filled with the empty nesters who wanted a pumpkin but avoided the crowds, or the parents of the younger children who also had reason to avoid the crowds.

The little girl was dressed brightly, wearing leggings under her cute green flannel dress. She had a bow in her blonde hair and her mother, a severe-looking woman with glasses, followed her carefully. She ran to and fro through the patch, giggling with the pleasure unique to four year olds who were set free to run in a big pumpkin patch. She ran from big orange pumpkin to big orange pumpkin, seeking the perfect one. She hugged one but her attention was instantly distracted by the next. She moved further and further along the rows, her mother following closely and stolidly.

Of course the little girl did not see the vine. She was running, and her foot caught that vine and she thudded heavily into the ground, smacking her face into the still-wet soil. Shocked and stunned from the fall, the little girl erupting in shrill cries, and stayed crying even after her mother came and scooped her up. The mother fussed terribly not over the girl's injuries, but over how she had gotten her clothes all muddy.

"Cut," the girl said to mommy. "Cut cut!" she repeated insistently. She showed her mother the cut that laced into the girl's palm. It was long but shallow, with one droplet of blood smeared towards the heel of her hand. The mother's fussing cycled back up, making the little girl fuss even more, and the two left the patch.

Innocent blood, the presence thought. If it had been able to achieve a human form, it would have smiled coldly and shivered.

Two days later, the air was much cooler even though the skies remained cloudless. The sun shone brightly overhead, and this time a woman hugely pregnant walked slowly through the patch. She had a little red cart behind, and her movements were slow because of her enormous size and because she had no reason to hurry. Her eyes darted from pumpkin to pumpkin.

She was aware of other eyes on her. Her attire, jeans tight on her lower legs and sensible boots, and a creamy sweater under a vest with a scarf at her neck did its best to hide her breasts thick with milk to feed her impending baby. She was a pretty woman, and in her state filled with hormones, her hair seemed to shine under the sun's rays. But even though she was aware that eyes were on her, she paid them no mind. She hummed a song that kept flitting through her mind as she searched for the perfect pumpkin.

She finally found it, in the back row, near a dark near-circle spot of soil. She reached over, emitting a painful squawk, as her back and breasts both protested the movement. She clutched the pumpkin in her hands and deposited it into the wagon. She nearly swooned for a moment, and decided to sit down in the patch. She swept a bit of plant debris out of the way, and sat down, turning her face to the sky to let the sun's rays hit her face. It felt pleasant and she was immediately in a good, warm mood. The baby was awake, and kicked her ribs painfully, which made her wince. But she did not voice her discomfort, reveling in the unique sensation of a growing life inside her body.

So she did not see a series of very thin tendrils moving slowly on the ground from around her. The vines of the pumpkin plants sprouted these tendrils, and they moved slowly but steadily. On the ground, her legs were parted because her belly did not permit her legs to close. With her eyes closed, she did not see a young man shoot her a hungry look that would have offended her terribly if she had seen it. The tendrils wove their way under her legs and then rose up. Two tendrils lightly climbed the crotch of her jeans. Their touch was so light that she would not have noticed them anyway.

But the presence, sensing her and knowing what she could glean from her, sent out its brand of magnetic waves. The pregnant woman was immediately caught in its glam, her mind freed of all concerns as she was content to remain seated and take in the sun.

This woman, who due to her condition had not had sex in some months, suddenly pulled her head down and looked around wildly. She could not see her crotch and had no idea that the sudden screaming need that she felt in her body was due to those tendrils that pulsed repeatedly. The two tendrils were not directly over the pregnant woman's sex, but lying alongside her organ on either side, sending its waves between one another passing over her body. And all the woman felt was something akin to a vibrator being applied to her body.

Her mouth opened and her eyes went glassy. She looked around wildly for a moment, double-checking that she was alone in the patch. It was good that she was, because the low moan she made could not have been checked. "Ohhhhhh," she went softly. She leaned back, propping her upper body up with her arms behind her body. To a casual observer, it would have looked like she was furthering her enjoyable respite in the sun. Anyone closer would have seen the woman's chest heaving.

She was too enthralled in the sensations of pleasure that kept reminding her that it had been months - MONTHS - since her husband (whom she loved desperately) had fucked her. She was too enthralled in this pulsing pleasure to realize that the tiny tendrils were weaving around her fingers and wrists, seemingly securing her to the earth. She did not feel the same tendrils wrapping gently around her ankles. No, she was caught in the glam of the creature and its control over the plants in this patch.

She did not feel her breasts begin to leak. She gasped, her breathing coming faster and faster, her mouth opened and her eyes closed and her face a mask of ecstasy. Her lactation grew in volume, expressing milk such that it soaked through her bra and left her sweater damp. It was enough liquid that it fell down onto her bare belly under the sweater and rolled over her flank.

When one single droplet hit the earth, the creature within shuddered violently in great pleasure and even greater need and the woman endured a searing orgasm. The crotch of her jeans suddenly grew dark from a spreading stain as her pussy creamed wildly in her pants. But as her orgasm subsided, the tendrils withdrew. She was not a suitable candidate for feeding, but she had served her purpose.

When this woman emerged from her glam and realized the heated wetness in her crotch and the sensation of afterglow filling her, and realized that her tits had leaked, she scrambled in pure dismay. She left the cart where it lay and wrapped the vest tightly around her body. She stalked to her car as fast as her body allowed her to go, and stabbed the key in the ignition of the car and drove off.

Now I am ready, the creature thought. Prepared, there was one night where its powers were at its greatest.

Halloween day dawned cold. Locals called it brisk, not wanting to admit that the chill in the air was an early harbinger of a long and dark winter. But the sun rose and warmed the ground, and in the pumpkin patch which was not visited by a human that day, that dark spot of soil began to send out soft waves.

These waves would have been missed by most people. Maybe one in a thousand might have caught a snippet of the waves. But that snippet, while perhaps making them tilt their head and wonder what the noise was, would not have otherwise been harmful. But for some, a few, the chosen so to speak, those waves would have been an irresistible siren song.

The couple had been backpacking across the United States. They were dirty, their bodies made lean from the constant walking made worse by the abuse they heaped on their bodies nightly. Her arms bore the track marks of the injections of heroin that her mind and body screamed for every night. He was worse. Yet they had been driven to walk along this highway and could not understand why. But their powers of introspection were destroyed by the drugs that clouded their mind. They were dirty and their bodies emitted a powerfully repellent odor. Most people ignored them utterly, and those who noticed them wrinkled their nose in distaste.

They shuffled forward, called inexorably by a call they could not explain. In a way, it was not unlike the screams they endured in the evenings before they could cook the black tar and draw it into the needles to inject the drugs into their arms. They shuffled and shuffled, and afternoon turned to late afternoon and the sun began to set in the west. Their pace picked up a little.

As night fell and the cold blackness of the night sky began to appear, twinkles of stars dotting the skies, still they did not look up. They were close; they both felt it. That night neither of their bodies demanded the heroin. That night neither of their minds plead for the injections. They needed something else.

They came to a halt, looking around. To their right, they saw the pumpkin patch. He poked her arm and got her attention, pointing out the patch that was becoming visible under the silvery light of a full moon. Her empty eyes nodded, and they climbed the guardrail. They did not feel the brambles pulling at their shoddy clothing nor did they feel the seeds that clung to their clothes, hoping to be deposited in a new spot to renew their cycle next spring. The two shuffled and walked.

They entered the last row of the pumpkin patch. The glam fell upon them. Their minds had been enslaved to the call of heroin; now their minds were enslaved to this demon who demanded sustenance. They shuffled forward. Had they been in their right minds, the movement of the remaining pumpkins would have terrified them.

He sat, suddenly, plopping his ass down and easing the pack from his back. He looked around stupidly, his face blank. He saw nothing, or rather his mind was unable to process that which he did see. Some three feet away, she took her place. Neither of them saw the pumpkins begin to come together, building one upon the other. The smaller pumpkins stacked and connected, tendrils wafting and weaving together to create something like sinew. The thick, round ones formed the torso. Smaller ones rolled up either flank and began connecting to create something like arms. And finally, once the arms and legs were connected, these two pumpkin-creatures walked around and found the head. They bent and picked up the head.

In his mind, he saw the most beautiful woman that he had ever seen walking slowly towards her. She radiated sexual need, and so he pulled at his clothing. He was soon naked, and his cock - such as it was - stood erect. She smiled at him, her smile telling him that he was quite simply the most beautiful man that she had ever seen.

To his side, she watched as the enormously tall, chiseled black man approached her. His endowment was the very embodiment of the lousy porn that she used to watch before heroin took her. But she licked her lips and looked forward to the way that his cock would feel in her mouth, and how his cock would fill her completely and stretch her pussy and use her until she behaved just like the wanton slut that she had always been told that she was.

Neither saw the bright red spark lines form on the head of the pumpkin, creating eye holes and a mouth, and though the pumpkin's mouth was carved upward, there was nothing warm and fuzzy about this smile.

He saw her, kneeling and crawling towards him. He opened his legs, his dirty feet digging into the soil. His arms behind him, propping up his upper body. "Come fuck me, baby," he croaked in his dream. She smiled at that, saying nothing, but her eyes flashed and her head nodded.

She saw in his expression the demand that she open her mouth, to become the slut that she knew she was. She too dug bare feet into cold soil but she leaned forward, her mouth open and mouth salivating.

In his dream, her mouth opened and she descended upon his cock. It strained in her mouth, in this perfect prison of hot wetness. Her tongue danced over his cock, sliding over the head and along the shaft and her fingers caressed his balls lightly and gently. He did not see how his erection had poked through the smile of the cold pumpkin, nor did it see the faint pink light that appeared in the middle of the hollowed out pumpkin head.

She reached up, her fingers stroking up and down thighs that rippled with powerful muscle, the thick black cock in front of her beginning to pulse. She looked up into his eyes, cold black eyes radiating force and he nodded, once, a fast, sharp movement. Silently telling her to get on with it. Her mouth opened and took the thick meat into her mouth, her tongue slowly sliding around the head of the thick cock, her fingers wrapping around the base, so thick she could barely make her fingers touch. The other hand rose to cup balls huge and thick with cum.

Her pumpkin-creature did put a small pumpkin that was more oblong shaped at its waist. The woman had no idea that her mouth was open and pressed against the dirty flesh of this small pumpkin.

She took her mouth off of his cock, and stroked him softly. "I want you to feel good, baby," she crooned at him. This was the ultimate of his lusty desires - a woman who was attending to his wants, his needs. Was that so much to ask?

The tendrils began to crawl slowly over the ground. They began ensnaring his wrists to the ground, his ankles to the ground. Several thin cords slid along the ground and began to slide up his thighs. What he felt were the warm fingers tracing his flesh. Four tendrils began to encircle his cock and balls. Two tendrils looped around the base of his cock and balls, and once they were looped and entwined and knotted, they constricted. He felt her hand gripping him hard, and he cried out in good pleasure.

Another series of loops constricted tightly and orderly at the base of his cock. The organ throbbed from the restriction of blood flow. Last, at the base of his testicles, several cords looped around and around and pushed down, until his balls were pressed hard down, the testes occupying the very last amount of skin. The man had never felt such incredible pleasure.

"Oh, what a cock you have!" she marveled as her mouth descended upon him, her hand reaching up and pressing it to his chest. She pressed him downward, and he laid back, prone on the ground. Her head bobbed up and down, the tongue slathering on his cock, wetting it and filling him with pleasure. Her hand on his chest kept him pressed into the earth. Where the tendrils criss-crossed his body, his arms. Pulling him taut into the soft, damp soil. None of which he could feel through the glam.

She gaped at his cock leaked precum onto her tongue. His curt nod, a hand gesture, hard and cutting. Lick it up, he demanded of her. Her tongue opened and she took the clear droplet into her mouth and shuddered orgasmically as she did so. Then she cried out, happy yet a trifle scared, as big, rough, strong hands gripped her legs just above her knees and pushed her open. She felt her lower body twitch and surge as her pussy awaited the rampage that it was sure to suddenly enjoy. She did not see the looped tendrils at her wrists and ankles, at her knees and crossing around her belly. She only knew that he pushed her to the ground, and once there, the tendrils secured her completely.

She, naked, lay spread eagle while the pumpkin-creature climbed over top of her. The creature had a head like the man's creature did, and its mouth began to open wider, as the head expanded and expanded.

Like her, he was naked and spread-eagled, his privates restricted and pumped full of blood. His pumpkin creature turned its body, and there was moments later another large pumpkin that was poised over his head.

Each of their lovers whispered to them. "Now I'm going to make you cum," the lover promised. He felt her attack his cock with a sensual violence that no woman had ever given him prior. Her pussy was entered, stretching wide but her natural lubricants easily guided the huge cock inside of her body. Even though both people were tied to the ground, their bodies strained upwards, both surging their backs off of the cold wet earth as they gave into their siren and its pleasure.

She bobbed on his cock. His cock thrusted smoothly. In perfect tandem, the creature fucked its prey. The pumpkin at the man's head grew larger, the opening gaping, the pink light inside burning with ever-increasing intensity. The head of her pumpkin creature did the same.

The pumpkin creature had reached its apex. The maw gaped widely, the pink light shone brightly.

FEED ME!

It's cry to both of them pushed them over the edge, into the orgasm. As the creature devoured each necessary elixir, the gaping maw descended over the head of its victim. The head was fully encased and around the neck of the human, the gap began closing. The glam of the moment made their orgasm continue and continue, while the creature's control of each both also caused that orgasm to continue.

But all orgasms end. The body runs dry; the balls run out of seed and the pleasure sensors dry up. The glam remained for a flickering moment.

And then the pumpkins encasing each head closed up and sealed.

The creature had its corporeal meal.

When it was done, the creature reverted back to its spirit form and sleepily retired to its place deep within the earth. It curled its tail around itself, and licked its lips in pleasure. The two had been tasty, and having both at once resulted in a pleasant satiation. She lay her head down, this spirit, and swiftly fell back into the slumber from which it came.