Trick or Treat (Frank Castle)
Your boots crunch the scattering leaves as you follow the giggling children flitting from door to door. Your boyfriend ushers them up to the next house as you trail not far behind, biting your lip as you ogle his perky ass in those tight black pants.
“Enjoying the view, Angel?” He flirts, turning back to you while the kids wait eagerly at the door.
Fighting a smile, you shrug a shoulder innocently and he stalks over to you, his chest peeking out enticingly under his puffy white pirate shirt. You slide your hands across his bare chest and hum as he warms your icy fingers. He wraps his arms around your waist, carefully avoiding your black Angel wings.
“You are so sexy,” he says before capturing your lips.
You pull away as the patter of little feet near and you laugh off his impatient groan. A sudden movement in the bushes across the street makes you freeze and you fall behind as you focus on the black lump cowering in the shadows.
“Hello?” You coo softly.
As you near, the rustling softens, stopping completely as you squint to make out a shape in dim glow of the yellow street lamp. As you reach out to move a branch, a panicked yelp makes you jump and a small black dog rushes out, eyeing you warily.
“Aw you poor thing,” you whisper, heart clenching at the sight of its skinny legs and matted black fur. Extending your hand, you squat low, “It’s ok, I won’t hurt you.”
It nears cautiously, sniffing and licking you sweetly. When you go to pet her she startles and scurries away, her back leg gimping painfully. You can’t bare the thought of it suffering so you call out a short, “be right back” to your boyfriend, before following it into the wooded park.
You call for the dog, trailing it’s sad whimpers through the moonlit trees. Walking until your ankles start to ache in the stiff costume boots and you question your decision as an eerie silence descends. The dog limps into a clearing ahead and you set your shoulders, racing after it. A gasp escapes as you break through the trees and look out into the grassy field littered with untidy rows of headstones and statues. A hazy mist blurs the distant tree line and paints the cemetery in a ghostly light.
A low whistle cuts through the silence and the dog pauses to listen before disappearing into the shadows. You slow your steps, heart thumping in your chest, nerves tingling in the unnatural quiet.
Your ears prick, breath hitching, as a menacing low growl rumbles from the shadows ahead. Your body goes rigid in fear. Your chest rising and falling rapidly as two red eyes stare back at you from the darkness. Too terrified to break eye contact you take a step back blindly, prepared to turn heel and run at any second. The red eyes flash and the growling intensifies as a furry black muzzle emerges, no longer sweet and timid but monstrous and grizzly.
You stumble backwards in shock and collide with something solid. Before you can turn to look, a large hand wraps around your throat. You freeze, eyes widening as you reach up to tear the offending hand away, but it simply tightens as a deep chuckle echoes in your ear.
“Good dog, and what have you brought me tonight?” The masculine voice purrs as he nuzzles your head and inhales your scent.
You cringe and struggle against him as his other arm wraps around your middle, a glint of metal catching the moonlight. You hear him hum in delight before he lifts you off your feet and turns to bend you over a sturdy rounded headstone. Your feet slip as you try to gain traction to escape, but he holds you down with ease. Tears prick your eyes as your hands flail and pull at the grass helplessly.
The cool air against your ass has you pleading for him to stop as he flips up your skirt and you feel the sharp edge of the knife carefully slice between your cheeks, ridding you of your sheer nylons. He drags the tip of the blade down the back of your thigh, making you sob and tremble before you flinch at the feel of something warm and firm prod at your entrance. His hand reaches around to smother your protests as he pushes into you slowly.
“Oh, what a treat you are, Angel,” he groans as he buries himself completely, pausing to savor the stretch of you around his cock.
“God – he does have a knack for sniffing out the most desperate cunts, doesn’t he?” He mocks as he begins thrusting torturously slow.
You’re in for a long night.