October 30, March 1996 Jen handed him the cardboard tray filled with foil wrapped packages. “These are for Miss Garabond in number six. She’s a bit hard of hearing, so you’ll need to knock loudly. A bit of an odd one too. Loves to tell stories.” Colin furrowed his brow. “Why do I always get the weirdos Jen? I mean…” Jen clicked her tongue. “She’s not a weirdo Colin, she’s a lonely old lady. She just wants somebody to talk to, so do her a favor and listen. It won’t kill you.” ...

…I woke to the sunshine coming into the bedroom window of the lake house sometime late the next morning, how exactly I got there, and inside, a mystery to me. I thought last night might have been a nightmare, but Sam sitting up in the chair next to my bed, and obviously having slept there to keep watch over me, gave lie to that notion. My legs were still loosely bound together too, but my wrists had been untied, although I don’t know exactly when that happened either. ...

…October thirty first, Halloween, a pagan holiday ironically enough, and here I am doing collections again, in the damn suburbs, but for the evil dark one himself this time. Ten years for one of us is usually nothing but the blink of an eye, but for you mortals it seems like forever, REALLY? At least this one is highly, highly attractive, dare I even say hot, although I know in hell that can be an overused term. And, her whiny bitch of a “husband,” the one that struck the original deal with the dark one in the first place; he’s so deserving of his fate. ...

Each year at Halloween, two neighborhood families get together to have a unique Halloween adventure. In past years, they have traveled around the county visiting advertised haunted houses and escape rooms to add some excitement and sometimes unusual adventures to celebrate the day of ghosts and goblins. Mark and Maggie Newsome and their daughter Tina found an advertisement for a new haunted house that also provided costumes to re-enact some historical people and the events that led to their demise. This very unusual haunted house piqued the interest of the Newsome family to explore for this year’s Halloween excursion. After talking to the next door neighbors about reading the ad, Joe and Marcie Leed decided to join the Newsome’s and check out the Halloween Haunted House of History Horrors. ...

Marcy was fumbling with her car keys when she first saw the women in silver. It had been a long day at the office, with little chance for fun. She had considered at least doing a simple Halloween costume for work, perhaps an Alice in Wonderland thing to suit her blond hair and blue eyes, but a dull morning meeting had forced her to dress professionally. However, as distracted as Marcy was by thoughts of her wretched day at work, she could hardly have failed to notice the two women making their way through the parking lot. ...

As the youngest of the staff archeologists at our local museum, I am often asked why I decided to commit to a career at our small hometown museum rather than trying for one of the larger museums in a bigger city. My answer is always the same, “I remain here so that I can study La Chiave.” Most people don’t even know what I am referring to. But that’s to be expected. When something has been there for all of your life, you stop noticing it. Besides, it’s not like it’s the only one in town. There are at least six other mine caps that I know of and probably several more that don’t stick up out of the ground like the more recent laws say they have to. ...

…Sleep didn’t come easily to me that night. I was mentally excited, and physically struggling for a comfortable way to lay on the cot while being cuffed. I even resorted to helplessly pulling the blanket back up with my teeth when I repositioned myself. I also had a long afternoon nap earlier in the day, so that must also factor in there someplace. In Jane’s commanding presence all this felt almost normal to me, but to anybody else watching it surely wasn’t. Not many normal people would appreciate being cuffed and locked up alone for the night, nor stripped naked for such either, but I have long since discovered that I’m not normal. ...

…Sleep didn’t come easily to me that night. I was mentally excited, and physically struggling for a comfortable way to lay on the cot while being cuffed. I even resorted to helplessly pulling the blanket back up with my teeth when I repositioned myself. I also had a long afternoon nap earlier in the day, so that must also factor in there someplace. In Jane’s commanding presence all this felt almost normal to me, but to anybody else watching it surely wasn’t. Not many normal people would appreciate being cuffed and locked up alone for the night, nor stripped naked for such either, but I have long since discovered that I’m not normal. ...

Lisa I glanced at my phone, checking the time. Time…precisely what Erin and I were running out of. Not that repeatedly verifying that fact helped. Looking around at the decrepit walls of our rented bathroom, now covered in a layer of chicken wire, I wondered if this was enough. “You don’t have to do this,” Erin said, pointedly turning dark brown eyes towards my phone. She did not, however, let go of the chicken wire. “In fact, that sounds like a much better idea.” ...

My story starts way back at the turn of the millennium. For clarity, I probably should have just said, “My story begins in the year 2000,” but I really want people to read my story and the turn of the millennium sounds so much more foreboding than the year 2000. Maybe it would be even more ominous to say that my story begins on the first Halloween of the new millennium. ...

She explains to the Halloween party how she got her slaves. ‘Twas the night of Halloween and all through the house, half naked people gyrated and thrusted to the beat. The annual party was well underway. Paradoxically it had also not begun. How could it? The party never truly began until Libby arrived. “Libby?” Taylor asked as he sipped on his drink, “Pharmacy Libby?” He was having trouble picturing it. True, he had only worked at the store for a few months now. Still, it felt ridiculous to think of the quiet little tech being the life of any party. ...

David Atkins stirred in his sleep and lazily almost opened his eyes. The steady thrum of the aircraft engines was such a lulling sound. Then it hit him. Jet engines don’t thrum, they purr. He came fully awake with a start and looked frantically around. If his seat belt hadn’t been holding him tightly in the seat, he would probably have jumped to his feet. He stared out the window at the silver wing and the two rapidly spinning propellers. The wing was straight and shaped differently from what he normally saw. It looked more like something from an old movie. ...

Eight Months Later. It was late afternoon on a drizzly Autumn day. A train had left the City on a western line and was heading towards the mountain residential suburbs. And travelling on it in an almost empty carriage was Rosemary Ritter. Rosemary was a retired teacher in her mid late fifties. A trim figured, athletic woman with an oval face, a sharp chin, framed by straight, black hair. She was generally regarded by those who knew her as a pleasant person. She had spent most of the day in the City, much of the later part at a small, discreet place that carried some select ladies wear in the inner suburbs. ...

Chapter 3 - Plums and Nuts “NAM! NAAAAM! THERE IS SOMEBODY OUTSIDE!” “Yes, I saw the hand on the window.” I jumped back on the bed and quickly pulled the blanket over my head. “Why is there someone else in my world? I selected SOLO! Not multiplayer!” “I don’t know, Evelyn. Shouldn’t you let that person in and ask?” “WHAT!? ARE YOU NUTS? What if… What if he kills us?” ...

Chapter 3 I took in the beauty of the garden. Despite it being in the middle of the summer, the morning was relatively cold but the view was worth it. The morning sun was just stretching over the horizon, illuminating grass and plants in it’s heavenly glow. It filled the air and reflected off the morning dew that covered everything in the garden. To me, it looked as if it was a massive diamond, glittering in the light to show off it’s amazing value. It gave the area a priceless and almost brand new and innocent look. ...

Chapter 1: The Slave Fair I told myself that never in a million years would I ever go to one of these types of events. Oh sure I had heard of slave fairs and auctions and even services that dealt with the training and modification of cunts, but I always told myself that had nothing to do with me and nothing good would come from being anywhere near those things, and yet here I was, standing smack in the middle of it with no idea what on Earth could have possibly made me think that this was somehow a good idea. ...

Part 7 I felt safer once I was back in the familiar confines of “my” room, the first boudoir I had explored. I looked around. So this was to be mine, was it? I felt a thrill of nervous excitement, the sort of expectant exuberance I imagine a young lady must feel on her wedding night. But I was no blushing bride, and there was no nervous groom here intent upon bedding me. ...

Part 1 This, dear reader, is the story of how one woman, obsessed with the pleasures of the flesh, has found her dreams in the stuff of other people’s nightmares, and how, for daring the frontiers of the supernatural and the perverse, has been condemned for an unknown term to a living… well, heaven. Hell it certainly is not. I had my chance to flee, yet I returned again to embrace this den of deviant spirits… and here I shall willingly, if unavoidably, remain. My story begins almost a year ago… ...

Part 8, and Conclusion The only other item I had taken any note of on my first visit had been the “mummy case” leaning against one wall, although I now saw that there were plenty of other interesting items. I looked over the harness hanging in the corner, which I had neglected before. It seemed to be intended to suspend a person in a relaxed, horizontal position, while securing their hands and feet in soft leather cuffs. I grinned, imagining a few uses for it, before turning to the sarcophagus. ...

Part 2 Topping the stairs, I found myself in a long hallway stretching to the right and left of the landing. I turned right, walking slowly as if fearing to wake anyone who might be sleeping in one of the bedrooms, though the place was obviously deserted. There were a great many paintings lining the walls, and examining them I found that each was a lurid depiction of various exotic acts of coitus, of bondage, flagellation, and other less decipherable activities. Stopping at the first door I came to, I placed hand on knob and then froze. What was that sound? But I was being silly. I’d fancied I’d heard something from the other side, but of course that was impossible. The house had been abandoned for years, and I’d seen no sign of vermin or pests in my inspection so far. ...