The Seduction of Michael Meyers

"Damn," she said trying to repress her smile as she turned and bent over while twisting her butt so he could have a nice view of her ass in her tight satin shorts.

She slowly scooped the candies up from the door sill, while imaging her guest checking her ass out. After straightening back up, she noticed the large bulge protruding inside his iconic jumpsuit.

Fighting the feeling of pure exhilaration the large bulge gave her—it almost seemed like fate considering her earlier naughty dream—she whispered sweetly to him, "So hon, where is your bag, so I can give you your treats."

His response was a simple "Trick or treat," again delivered in that flat monotone voice.

"Fine, no bag. Hold out your hand then."

He raised his hand. It was clenched tight holding a large, very realistic looking knife. "Well, I see you even brought a prop with you . . . how cute, but maybe you should give me your other hand so I can give you some candy."

"Treats."

This was getting annoying. April impatiently reached out and grabbed his other hand slamming the package of sweet tarts and gum down into his open palm. "Yeah, treats exactly, candies are treats so here you go," she barked as she stepped back inside the house and started to shut the door.

As quick as a flash his hand dropped the candies on the porch and reached out grabbing April around her wrist. She tried to twist away but he was strong; her wrist was stuck hopelessly in his vise like grip. And then just as panic was beginning to set in, he released her. She slammed the door shut as the freak mumbled, "Trick."

She leaned against the front door, for a quick second before turning and twisting the dead bolt. Carefully she pulled back the curtain on the side window; the porch was empty.

She craned her neck pulling the curtain open wider so she could see the front walk leading up to the door. Empty.

"Thank God," April said letting out a shaky breath although she was a bit apprehensive from the way he seemed to simply vanish into thin air.

Yeah, he was gone, just like in the original movie after Dr. Loomis shot Michael Myers six times and he fell out the upstairs window—and then was gone except for his outline of his body in the grass. She still thought that was one of the greatest horror movie endings of all time.

"Well, yeah, it's probably best not think of horror movies too much right now considering you are home all alone and just had a weird encounter with a Michael Myers wanna be." She spoke this last statement out loud if for no other reason than to break the eerie silence of being alone . . . and scared.

8:30 pm

April sat down on the sofa still a bit edgy. Reflecting back on the situation, she didn't not like what was slowly beginning to dawn on her. The way he gripped her, Tommy wasn't that strong, his flat monotone voice, could he really pull that off, was he that good of an actor? She was having some serious doubts it was him after all.

The more she reflected upon what just happened the more tense she became. Jumping up from the sofa, she hurried over to the front door taking another peek out from behind the curtain—there was nothing there still. Scooping up her bra off the sofa she hurriedly put it back on before heading up the stairs meaning to wait in her mom's room until she arrived home.

Halfway up the stairs she froze. Coming from the kitchen was the sound of breaking glass, dreadfully loud in the silent house.

Someone was breaking in!

"Stop it, probably some punk teenager just threw a rock at the house, goofing off, or maybe showing off for his friends, and hit the window by accident," April announced aloud trying to calm her nerves.

Torn between going back downstairs to investigate, and running to the phone in her mom's room to call the police, April was still frozen when she heard the unmistakable noise of the back kitchen door swinging open, and then the heavy thud of footsteps coming across the kitchen.

If it was a break in whoever it might have been was making absolutely no attempt to be quiet. April crept quietly up the stairs before dashing into her mom's room. The bedroom was dark except for a small pool of light thrown off by the lamp on the nightstand next to the bed.

Dashing over to the phone, she heard the sound of heavy footsteps clomping across the kitchen floor. So much for the punk kids theory!

She picked up the phone and started to call 9-1-1. After dialing the second number she froze. The call wasn't going through; there was no dial tone. Worse even the heavy footsteps were now ascending the stairs; slow and methodical as April cursed. Of course there is no fucking dial tone stupid! You unplugged the phone earlier!

In the near darkness of the bedroom it would be nearly impossible to find the end of the cord and fit it back into place before the intruder entered the room.

Tiptoeing across the room, April noiselessly opened the bedroom's closet door. There was no choice now but to try and hide. She entered the closet and peered around discouraged to find it offered precious little hiding room.

Along one side of the closet hung an assorted collection of her father's shirts and sweaters, along with about a half dozen of his ties. On the opposite side hung a collection of Suzan's blouses, sweaters and tee shirts, along with her three bathrobes.

Straight back from the door, hanging from an upper wooden closet rod was roughly a dozen of Suzan's dresses, and it was there, after she shoved aside several pairs of her mom's dress shoes lined up neatly on the floor, she chose to hide.

Crouching down, the dresses offered some small measure of concealment, April tried to make herself as small as possible. She strained to hear as the house again was utterly silent with the footsteps having seemingly stopped in front of the bedroom door as April waited with her breath coming in short pants.

She almost wished whoever was out there would hurry up and get things over with as her body filled with adrenaline. She was ready to fight this intruder whoever he might be.

The bedroom door slowly opened with a loud creaking noise. April began to shake as she heard the heavy footsteps clomp across the bare hardwood floor of the bedroom heading straight for the closet.

Peeking through a row of her mother's dresses, April held her breath as the closet door slowly opened. Standing in the entrance, framed by the dim light thrown off by the lamp on the nightstand was a figure, very much familiar—white mask, dark overalls, and holding a large sinister looking knife. It was the same creepy trick or treater from earlier. For some reason, maybe he didn't want to make it too easy on himself, he did not reach out and turn on the closet light.

He stood there doing nothing for a long moment before turning. Amazingly, he appeared to be leaving!

April still trembled. Did he not know I was in here?

As if to answer her question, the figure turned abruptly and in two long strides was hovering over her. Reaching down, he snagged her by the hair, dragging her to her feet as she let out a loud squeal.

On the way up she reached down and snatched up one of her mother's dress shoes, it had a four inch spike heel, and without thinking, as the intruder twisted his hand deeper in her hair and began to shake her like a rag doll, a terrified April swung the shoe. The spike heel struck him hard on the left side of his face with the unexpected blow staggering him momentarily.

His grip loosened on her hair and in one violent twisting motion April managed to extract herself from his grasp. There was the smallest of openings between the wall and her attacker as he still seemed stunned by the blow to his head.

She darted through the opening, freedom beckoning, when, ironically just like in the movies, she tripped over her own feet and fell sprawling half out of the closet.

He turned and was on her in an instant. He reached down, grabbing one of her bare ankles, and yanked her back into the closet.

After he dropped her ankle, April tried to scoot back out of the closet on her butt. This time he reached down putting his hands under her armpits and picked her up as easily as one might a child.

She batted at him furiously to no effect as she cried, "Who are you. What do you want?"

Turning away from the door, he set her down on her feet toward the back of the closet. April now understood between his quick reflexes and his strength escape was a virtual impossibility. There was only one thing left to do—try to use her beauty to save herself.

"What do you want?" April said softly as he turned and quickly slammed the door shut plunging the closet into total darkness.

Reaching out and finding her face, the intruder stroked it with one finger whispering a single word, "Soft."

Much to her surprise, he let his finger slip from her face and then took a step back. April shrank back into the corner cowering as she sensed him looming over her.

"Please, I don't like the dark. Can you open the door just a bit to let some light in . . . please," she whined.

Again he surprised her when he turned and opened the closet door slightly.

He turned back around and just stood there—doing nothing-- allowing April a moment to think while she stared dumbly at the knife he was holding firmly in his right hand. Finally, she decided on a course of action.

She pushed herself up into a standing position and took a small step forward. The intruder, matching her, took a small step backwards. "Look, I remember you from earlier. On the porch, I noticed you looking at me. Do you think I'm pretty? Maybe I could give you a kiss if you let me."

Taking a step closer to him she dropped her voice to a low whisper. "Could you set the knife down? You wouldn't need it. I promise."

His reaction was immediate and swift. He pushed her back against the wall as he mumbled. "Trick."

Expecting the attack to come now, April cowered while closing her eyes, but after a long pause with nothing happening she opened her eyes. He had stepped back again.

April perceived she had one chance—keep her intruder entertained long enough until her mother could get home and save her.

With this in mind, she elected to try a dangerous gambit. Noticing her father's half dozen or so ties hanging neatly along one side of the closet April carefully reached out and grabbed a pair of them.

"You don't trust me. OK, fine," April said as she held the ties out to him. "I will let you tie my hands to here." She turned around, pushing her mom's dresses to one side, before pointing up to the bare spot on the wooden closet rod she had just cleared.

"No tricks, right, if my hands are tied to the closet rod. Then you can do whatever you want to me without having to get . . . you know rough."

He did nothing at first, just staring straight ahead, before he suddenly snatched the ties out of her hand. He grabbed her wrist roughly forcing it up and back against the closet rod. She let out a small whimper as she felt her wrist being secured tightly against the wooden rod.

He then did the same to the other wrist as April whispered to him. "See . . . now you can have some fun with me."

"Treats," he whispered back.

"Yes, treats, enjoy my treats. Take your time."

He stepped back, looking at her as April thrust her chest out. "Go on. You can do anything you want to me."

The intruder raised his hand and gently stroked the side of her face. "Pretty."

"And I bet you are cute," April replied as his hand dropped away. "You can kiss me, Mister, if you want . . . just take off your mask."

The intruder turned away and banged the closet door shut. April sighed as her respite from the darkness appeared to have been short lived. There was a long drawn out moment of silence. She held her breath and then nearly screamed as she felt his hands slip under her top and begin to explore her bare tummy. They moved around, flickering down across her navel and then back up before he raised them to caress her face.

She heard him take off his mask and then a soft thud when it dropped on the floor. His lips brushed hers. Tenderly he kissed her whispering, "Treats."

Pushing her fear aside, April kissed him back as his hands rested on her bare tummy just below the edge of her crop top. His touch was unexpectedly gentle as she felt a surge of excitement overtake her, especially when she felt the intruder's hands slowly beginning to rise toward her breasts.

This would be her first time being felt up and April was quite certain the intruder would not stop until his hands were fondling her small breasts. To be felt up for the first time, in her mother's dark closet while she was bound by her wrists to the wooden closet rod, by an unknown intruder, made the whole thing surreal—and exciting.

April was getting the feeling, or maybe it was just wishful thinking, he meant her no real harm. Just as his hands were almost upon the twin mounds of her pert little tits he suddenly drew them back. Something must have spooked him.

8:44 pm

Suzan walked through the front door going straight upstairs. "April, I'm home," she called out. After several cocktails at the bar with the girls, Suzan was feeling a bit tipsy and in the mood for some companionship.

Hurrying up the stairs she called out April's name again. There was no response. Reaching the upstairs hallway, Suzan glanced toward April's bedroom. It was dark. "Probably fell asleep waiting for me," Suzan muttered to herself as she headed to her own bedroom.

April heard the bedroom door open as the intruder grabbed his knife. Resisting the urge to scream, she instead held her breath after feeling the cold steel blade being pressed momentarily—it must have been a warning-- against her throat.

She heard him put his mask back before she whispered urgently, "Please, I will be quiet . . . don't hurt me . . . or her. It's my mother. I think she will get undressed and then go to bed. Then we can sneak down to my room and you can spend the night with me in my bed."

"Treats," he whispered.

"Yes, lots and lots of treats, I promise. Now Shhh . . ."

Suzan, humming a happy tune, crossed the bedroom. The intruder advanced silently to the front of the closet cracking open the door just enough to peer outside. He watched while she stripped off her dark red realty blazer, and then, as she turned inadvertently toward the closet, he enjoyed a perfect view when she started to undo the buttons on her white blouse.

A minute later, she was slipping the blouse seductively off her body in a show specifically designed for him-- so it seemed to the intruder. Seeing the pretty lace black bra she was wearing, the intruder's cock twitched to life as Suzan tossed her blouse casually onto the bed before sitting down on it and removing her shoes.

Wanting to see better, he took a step forward. The old floorboard in the closet groaned loudly as he shifted his weight forward. Suzan was just starting to undo her skirt when she paused looking intently at the closet. She thought she heard something—a noise maybe coming from the closet. Staring, she noticed the door was slightly ajar, and even more alarming, she detected a shadow moving inside.

The door being ajar was what really captured Suzan's attention as she always made it a habit to shut the closet door tightly. It was a habit that went all the way back to her childhood when she was afraid of the proverbial "thing in the closet". It all added up to one thing-- someone was in there.

No, not someone, April was in there waiting to scare her, of course. It was Halloween and it would be a very appropriate thing to do. Suzan was thrilled her young daughter was in a mood to play with her as she too was in a rather spirted mood.

Well, I will just give her something to think about as she waits for me to enter the closet and yell BOO! And maybe what I'm planning on doing will give the naive little girl an education to boot, Suzan thought as a deliciously wicked idea came to her.

Suzan was just tipsy enough not to chicken out as she turned so her ass was facing the closet and very slowly, very deliberately, slipped her skirt off while wiggling her butt in dramatic fashion for her secret audience.

The prowler, still ramped up from playing with April, was starting to get excited again watching Suzan.

Suzan was clad in all black under her work outfit: black bra with matching black panties. She stretched out on the bed knowing she would be in full view of the closet. Running her hands over her body, she closed her eyes.

Her secret admirer let out a small moan as he shifted anxiously from side to side as he watched while Suzan run her hands all over her big tits squeezing them through her sexy black bra.

Her naughty hands slipped down, sliding past her tummy before dipping down between her legs. She pushed one finger inside her wet pussy--being a little drunk left her, as always, feeling both horny and reckless with tonight being no exception. Pushing her finger deeper inside her pussy, she let out a long drawn out moan.

Pumping her finger in and out, she suppressed a smile as she could only imagine what her sweet innocent little daughter must be thinking as she watched her mother play with herself.

Suzan stroked her pussy with soft loving caresses before finding her clit and attacking it with her thumb. Could she keep doing this until she came with her daughter watching?

She honestly wasn't sure of the answer when she heard the old squeaky closet door begin to creak open.

I guess poor April had seen enough, Suzan thought to herself as she lifted her head, ready to ask her daughter if she was enjoying the show.

The words died on her lips. A mother always recognizes her cubs. Standing there was not her daughter, but her son wearing a Michael Myers mask and jumpsuit. The costumed jumpsuit was zipped down enough in the front where she could see the navy blue sweatshirt he was wearing which was part of the standard issued uniform at the institution.

Suzan avoided her initial reaction-- which was to overreact, especially when she spied the large knife he was holding at his side. Remembering her earlier conversation with Dr. Grant—I don't think you are in any danger, almost made her want to laugh. Yeah, well, I wonder what the good doctor would think now!

Suzan slowly raised herself up from the bed. "Mark, is it really you? Answer me honey. Are you OK?"

He did nothing, said nothing. It was like she was talking to a wall.

Suzan now received another shock. April could no longer be quiet as she yelled from the depths of the closet. "Jesus, Mom help me. Is that really Mark?"

April's voice coming from deep inside the closet, tinged with fear, jolted Suzan into action. She jumped to her feet and rushed toward the closet, brushing past him as he simply stepped aside and let her pass.

Entering the closet, Suzan shrieked seeing her daughter bound to the upper closet rod by her wrists.

"Mom, Mom, Mom, it's OK . . . he hasn't hurt me," April cried trying her best to stay calm.

Suzan rushed to April's side and begin tearing at the ties binding her daughter to the closet rod as she bravely, or maybe foolishly, turned her back on her son. She just managed to loosen the first knot when suddenly the closet door shut with a loud bang.

In the inky blackness of the closet, Suzan froze. She turned around slowly; she could just barely make out his dark shape. He was standing there; doing nothing-- as far as she could tell.

"Mark, honey, what . . . what do you want?"

"Mom, what do you think he wants?" April hissed into her mother's ear. "Look at me. He tied me to the fucking closet rod and was about to . . ." She dropped her voice to a low hiss, "Feel me up."