Halloween Favor

21.

Sam had expected to have October 19 off, but the backup guy had called in sick, and Sam had been a good citizen, worked 7:00 to 1:00, and closed up. He was dog tired, but decided to check his email before falling into bed: spam, Facebook updates, a couple of bills, and something with an attachment from rednnaughty@... "Redn...oh holy shit! What's this gonna be?" The subject line read: "LRRS to BBW," and the text of the email simply: "1642 Vista Del Mar." Sam clicked on the attachment to download what was apparently an MP3. Through the speakers on his computer, he heard Karen speaking softly in her naughty little girl voice:

"Grandma says good little girls don't...touch themselves down there. And I know I shouldn't...but I'm in bed, and I'm all alone 'cause Grandma's gone out, and...well, Sam,"—Sam started, hearing his name—"the woodsman's son came by today with some extra firewood for us. He's really handsome. I like his broad shoulders, and his big hands, and...I like the way he looks at me when he thinks I'm not paying attention. I caught him today...staring at my...hmmm, and I think I saw his pants get just a wee bit tighter...and, well, now I'm all wet and sticky."

"I wonder if looking at me made his...thing...bigger. That'd be...neat. Oooh, I think...ok, now I just have to touch myself...a little... But I'll try to be good. I won't start...down there. Maybe I'll start by squeezing my boobies a little...ooh, that feels really good. I think Sam likes my boobies. I think he was staring at them. I wonder what he wants to do to them? Mmm, I'm a big girl now! Uh huh. They're too big for my hands now, but not too big for Sam's, I bet. I bet his big hands would feel so good playing with my tits, caressing them...squeezing them...I bet he would pinch my nipples hard the way I like it...the way I'm doing...unnh...right now. Ohhh, look how hard they are...I bet, if I reach out with the tip of my tongue...I bet I can...nnngggh, yeah! Oh, that feels wonderful! The tip of my tongue is all rough on my poor little nipples...I bet Sam's tongue would feel even better. Would he lick my tits...or suck them...or bite them? Would he even lick my...down there? Oooh, gosh, I don't care, I have to touch myself there now. O God! That feels so good!"

"Hmmmm...I am so wet, so excited. My pretty lacey panties are just drenched! I'm being a very bad girl, touching myself like this. But it's all Sam's fault! He's so...mmm...yummy! Oooh, my kitty is all wet just from thinking about him, thinking about the things I want him to do to me. Ohhhh, I wish it were his fingers...ooh... brushing against my little clitty, just like mine, aah...are, nnngh...now. Maybe that would make his thing even bigger! Maybe sucking on my boobies and playing with my kitty would make it long and hard and....oh God! Or I could suck it for him. I've heard that really bad, slutty girls sometimes do that...put a man's thing in their mouth and suck on it until it's nice and hard and, ohgodohgodohgod!! This feels so...

I'd do it for Sam! Oooh, I'd suck his big thing soooo good! I'd ask him...ohgod...beg him to let me...I'd say 'Please, Sam, please! Can I be a nasty little slut and suck on your big, thick...cock?'"

Sam sat very still, listening to Karen's dirty talk pouring from the speakers in his three-year-old laptop. He had shed his clothing—not that he remembered how or when, and now he watched, almost dispassionately, as his painfully erect prick throbbed to the sound of her voice. It took a physical effort not to reach for his cock, not to start stroking himself. He thought the sound of her voice alone might just push him over the edge. He listened, silent and still, as her language broke down, her pants and moans and squeals interspersed with cries of "Sam!" and "omygod!" and "Yes!" He listened to her cum, hard and long, and he continued to listen as she fell silent, catching her breath.

After several seconds: "Oh gosh, that felt wonderful. But look what I've done to my little red panties. They're soaked through. I can't let Grandma see them. Whatever shall I do?" Then she said: "Why Mr. Wolf, have you been listening? What big ears you have. But you'll need more than your ears to find me, if you want to eat me all up on Halloween Night. Sweet dreams!" And then, pronouncing each letter individually, she whispered: "L.R.R.S."

22.

On October 28, what proved to be the final package arrived for Sam at the Bottle. This time he just looked at the small padded envelope, and tucked it away under the bar. That night, when he got home, he set the package on his kitchen table, stripped down to his underwear, and sat staring at it. Finally, he rose and got a pair of scissors. Carefully, almost reverently, he cut away the top of the envelope, and turned it over, spilling its contents onto the table: a small bundle wrapped in red tissue, and another envelope. He reached for the bundle, and removed the wrapping. A lacy red thong fell into his hand, and through it, he could feel something hard and small. As he unfolded the material, a key fell to the table with a soft clink. As his ears registered the sound, Sam's nose detected a scent coming from the thong; it was spicy, and musky, and a little stale, but there was something sweet, and perhaps flowery, mixed in as well. He brought the panties to his nose, and sniffed. Karen, of course; he felt as if her scent had been permanently etched into the pleasure center of his brain. The flowery smell was some sort of perfume. Immediately he had an image of her wearing the thong and nothing else; her legs spread wide, as she used the glass finger of a perfume bottle to dab the scent behind her ears, then on the side of her throat, then between her breasts, and finally a touch against the hood of her clit. He heard her sigh as the chill of the alcohol-based mixture sent a jolt of sensation through her dripping wet pussy, and then—in his imagination—she looked directly into his eyes. Her eyelids heavy with her arousal, and her red mouth slack as her fingers, having abandoned the perfume applicator, moved down into her thong.

Without relinquishing fantasy, he reached for the envelope, tore it open, and read. And as he read, the words seemed to come from the moist, pouting lips of his lust-conjured Karen:

"I've gone too far, haven't I, Mr. Wolf. You have everything you need to find me now: the sight of my body, the sound of my voice, and now, my scent. You're coming for me, aren't you? On Halloween night, you'll track me to my house, and creep inside, and I'll have nowhere to run, and nowhere to hide, and nobody to hear me scream. Are you fondling my panties right now? Can you smell how scared I am, and how excited? I remember my magic words, and if I was a good girl, I'm sure I'd use them to save myself from you, but I don't think I'm going to. I'm not sure if I am a good girl anymore. Shall I fight you, just a bit? Would that excite you? Or shall I just submit to you and embrace what I've become, what you've made me?

Until the night of the 31^st.

Your,

LRRS: Little Red Riding Slut"

Sam rose from his chair, leaving the note, the envelope, the scissors, and the panties on the table. He fell into bed naked. He slept, but remembered none of his dreams. In fact he remembered nothing at all of the next three days. As far as he was concerned the narrative of his life resumed on October 31^st at 7:45 pm, when he found himself leaving his house, Karen's key in his hand, and her address in his phone. He wore a sleeveless work shirt, which he could not remember acquiring, a pair of old Levis, and slip-on sandals, but neither socks nor underwear. His hair was shaved close to his head, and his chin wore three days worth of course, dark stubble. He drove to Karen's house—a small Spanish-style bungalow a block or so off the main drag in Culver City—parked, and waited for the last glow of an orange sunset to disappear over the Pacific.

23.

As he walked slowly back down the road to Karen's house, Sam hoped, in a detached sort of way, that no neighbors—seeing a scruffy looking stranger on their neat suburban block—would decide to call the cops, particularly if they saw him approach a door in which he had no legitimate interest. But Karen's Jetta was in the driveway, and there were lights in neither of the houses next to hers. There were still a few trick-or-treaters wandering among the houses with lights and/or decorations. But it was getting late, and the street was dark—no street lights, and nobody seemed to notice as Sam slipped past the VW, and headed for the back door.

He assumed he had checked to make sure that the key he had opened the back as well as the front door. He couldn't remember doing so, but his progress towards the back seemed entirely natural. The small back yard with the detached garage seemed familiar as well, although he had no memory of being there before. And his key slipped quietly into the back door knob. The door opened silently, and he slipped into short hallway, past a washer and drier, and into a small, dark kitchen.

Sam was only moderately surprised—given his certainty about the key—to realize that he'd apparently already cased the joint. The hallway continued past the kitchen with two small bedrooms divided by a bathroom on the left, and a dining room on the right. Light from a lamp spilled into the hallway from a large living room at the front of the house, as well as the sounds of pages being turned. As his ears betrayed Karen's presence to him, his other senses seemed to sharpen, and the smell of her leaped into his mind, as if he were still pressing her lacy cum-stained panties to his nose. Sam's cock stiffened as his mind and body responded to the nearness of his lover/victim, and he smiled, letting the wolf she desired rise with his engorged prick. He began walking, as softly as he could, towards the living room.

As the room in which she sat came into sight, the Wolf could feel Little Red stiffen. She was sitting with her back to him on an ottoman. Her blonde hair fell loose onto her shoulders, and the back of a filmy red babydoll pooled around her hips. Through the material, the tiny red string of a thong circled her waist. The cleft between the cheeks of her ass was just visible as she leaned forward to turn the pages of a book or magazine. Sam felt pure need rise in his body, and in three long steps he was on her. He buried the fingers of his left hand in her hair, wrapped his right around her body, and pulled her bodily off the ottoman and on to the floor. She screamed once and then she fought, but before she could get her bearings, he had her on her back on the floor, her waist between his thighs, and his hands pinning her arms. Then he paused to stare hungrily at the vision of beauty squealing and struggling—although not perhaps as hard as she might have—beneath him.

The babydoll she wore only served to enhance and emphasize the golden ripeness of Little Red's writhing body. Covering her breasts were lacy, transparent cups which met at the front in two tiny bows. The fabric beneath was split to reveal the soft expanse of her flat belly. A tiny red satin triangle trimmed with white lace hid her pussy, and her long legs were smooth and bare. As he sat astride her, the Wolf could feel the soft flesh of her belly warm against the fabric covering his cock and balls. He growled and, without releasing her wrists, he pushed his lower body back, and forced her thighs apart, the denim covering his rigid prick pressed hard against the hot, wet slit of her cunt beneath its satin barrier.

Little Red's blue eyes widened as she felt his cock pressed up against her. As she fought, she began to pant and plead: "No...oh please, don't...not...that...please..."

"My, my, Little Red," rasped the Wolf through an evil leer, "what lovely, soft tits you have!" He grasped the cups of the flimsy nighty and tore them apart, shredding the fabric, and Little Red screamed as she felt her breasts bounce free. Then her attacker released her arms and lowered his mouth to a nipple, sucking and licking as he felt the tiny nub harden under his ministrations. The taste of her nipples was both familiar and new: sweet with a just touch of salt, and her scent... He remembered that too: soft, and a little creamy, and there was something else...wildflowers. He recognized it almost immediately as the perfume from her panties. The thought of her preparing herself for him drove him wilder than he already was, and he sucked hard and bit at first one breast, and then the other. With his mouth at her right breast, his hand reached for the left. Even in the heat of his desire, Sam remembered: "When I'm turned on, I like it a little rough." and "I bet he would pinch my nipples hard the way I like it." His fingers found an erect nipple and he squeezed it hard, at the same time, taking the other between his teeth. He bit down gently and was rewarded with a little shriek of pleasure and pain:

"Don't...ohgod that's so... please...don't...stop! Ahhh, ahhh, ooohh, please...please... aieee...you're hurting...please..."

"The Wolf released his captive's breasts, and brought a hand to her throat. She froze, as at a signal. "You naughty little slut," snarled the Wolf, "you've forgotten your manners. When I say 'Little Red, what lovely soft tits you have!' the polite response is 'All the better to tease you with, Mr. Wolf.' Now: Little Red, what lovely soft tits you have! Answer me, you little bitch, or I'll bite you deep and drink all of your sweet blood!"

Despite Sam's grip on her throat, which was deliberately gentle, Karen found her breath coming in quick sharp pants. She couldn't believe how well Sam had understood, and how willing he was to enter into her fantasy with her. She was as aroused as she had been at the shoot; more so, since, unless she used the safe words, (and she had no intention of doing so,) Sam was out of her control. In her breathy, scared-little-girl-voice she squeaked: "Oh no! Please...I'll be good...I'll say it." He she paused to pass her tongue provocatively over her full red lips. She locked eyes with her attacker, and said, in a much lower, huskier voice: "All the better to tease you with, Mr. Big Bad Wolf!"

Sam growled, and ground his erection against the warm dampness of Karen's satin panties. "You liked it when I was sucking and biting your big tits, didn't you, Little Red?"

"No! I..."

The Wolf reached out and slapped her across the face. Sam had been careful to keep the slap light. He had no real desire to hurt her, but he was beyond excited by the power the role play had given him over this beautiful, seductive woman, and his cock twitched as he saw her blue eyes widen with surprise and fear.

"Why Little Red, didn't your Granny tell you that good girls don't lie? I heard the sounds you made when I had your nipples between my teeth. I can smell how wet you are. I Know You Liked It! Now tell me: you liked my teeth and claws on your sweet titties, didn't you?

"Yes!" the softest of sighs.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, I liked it. It felt good."

"What felt good?

"When you were biting and pinching my..."

"Offer them to me."

"What?"

"Cup those delicious boobs in your hands, offer them to me, and say 'Please Mr. Wolf, bite and suck on my big tits. I like it, because I'm a naughty little slut."

Little Red's pretty mouth opened, then shut: "No! I'll never offer them to you! They're not for you! And I'm not a...a...what you just said!" Then she squeaked, as the Wolf's hand closed again over her throat.

He leaned his face close to hers, looking deep into her wide, terrified eyes. Then his face sank lower, and she felt his hand leave her neck, and his rough tongue take its place. She heard the soft growls as he tasted her flesh, and she struggled to contain a moan as he licked gently up towards the lobe of her ear. Then he ran his devil's tongue around the rim of her ear, and she shuddered, as she felt his teeth bite gently at the soft lobe.

"Of course you are. I can hear the little wet noises your pussy makes as your body moves under me. My cock can feel the heat coming off you through your panties. I can smell you, and..." and Little Red squealed as she felt him bring his hand down her body, push her panties aside, and slide a finger into her sopping wet cunt. "Here!" He shoved his finger, wet with her juices, between her lips, and she tasted the gamy saltiness of her arousal. "Taste that, you lying little tease! Taste how hot and slutty you are. Now, offer those tits to me, or I'll snap your pretty little neck right now!"

"Oh no...oh please...here!" Little Red's hands found her boobs; she cupped them, and lifted the nipples towards the hungry mouth of her tormentor. "Is this what you want? Then here: please suck on my soft, sweet tits! I like it. I love it! I'm...I'm...a naughty little...slut! Ooooohhh!"

The Wolf's teeth had closed on a nipple. He shook his head from side to side, worrying at her breast. He licked and sucked, pawing and scratching whichever breast his mouth had left exposed. Eventually, she felt his hand slide down his body again. Again she felt her panties pushed aside, and this time, the pad of his finger found her clit. She gasped and panted as he fingered her, even as he continued to suck and bite at her boobs.

"Oh Mr. Wolf!...oh shit! OhshitohshitohshitohSHIT!" and she was cumming, her body spasming around his fingers, her thighs pressing against his, and her voice broken into a series of high pitched yips: "Oh, Oh, Ohhh, Ohhh...OOOOHHHH!!!"

The Wolf sat back on his haunches, his tongue still savoring the salty aftertaste of her nipples, and his nose drinking in the scent of her arousal from his fingertips. Little Red rolled onto her side, curled into a fetal position, and tried to catch her breath, but her attacker allowed her no respite. Once again burying his fist in her hair, the Wolf pulled his victim's head back until she was looking into his eyes. He seemed to be having almost as much trouble catching his breath as she was. In fact, the experience of bringing Karen off—the taste of her body, the sound of her cries, and the scent of her excitement—had driven Sam into a kind of lust-driven frenzy the likes of which he had never before experienced. No sexual experience he had ever had could begin to compare with the pleasure he felt in bringing Karen to orgasm. He couldn't wait to continue ravishing her, attacking her, fucking her, and he knew—he couldn't say how or why—that she didn't want him to stop. "Scare me a little." she had said, and "I want my Wolf." He was her Wolf, and she was his prey, and he had no intention of stopping until he was sated. Now he jerked her head up to face his: "On your feet, you beautiful bitch! I want to finish you off in your bed. I want to stain the sheets with your blood. Now move!"

He dragged her to her feet. She struggled to free herself, and he threw his arms around her, one hand grabbing and squeezing a breast, and the other questing between her legs. His victim writhed and screamed: "Oh God!...oh please don't hurt me...pleaseplease... let me go...don't make me do anything else...please!"

As she struggled and squealed, he manhandled her toward an open door which was now on the right of the little hall down which he had originally come. Inside he saw a queen-sized bed, with the covers pulled back neatly. He smiled slightly, and the Wolf dropped away for a second as Sam considered how carefully Karen had prepared for her fantasy rapist. In an attempt to reassert the Wolf he knew she wanted, he lifted the nearly naked beauty off the ground, and threw her on to the center of the bed. She let out a little squeak as she landed on her behind, and then tried to scramble away, but the Wolf was on

Little Red before she had found her legs. He flipped her onto her back, and lay on top of her, pinning her arms. Raising himself on his arms to look into her beautiful face, he growled: "My, my Little Red, what pretty red lips you have!"