[Edward Hyde]
TRICK OR TREAT Pt6

It did not take the twins long to get back to the garden where the three teenage witches were still taking it in turns to stir the large cauldron. Only now, there were no happy little girls splashing around in it and, hanging from a small apple tree by their hair were three cute severed heads.

“Hey! Back for some stew?” The redhead grinned, taking a large paper cup and ladling some it. “It’s really good!” She held it out and Jenny took it while the witch prepared a second cup for Jerry. It was really more of as thick soup with small pieces of meat and vegetables floating in it. Jenny took a sip and agreed that it was, indeed, really tasty!

“How much longer did they last?” Jerry asked, tasting his own cup and enjoying it very much.

“About fifteen or twenty minutes, I guess?” the blonde witch answered. “It takes quite a while for the water to heat up but once it does it goes from kinda hot to boiling really fast! Once they passed out we cut their heads off and cut up their meat so it would cook quicker.”

“When they passed out?” Jenny asked, “So, were they dead or not?”

“Hard to tell really.” the witch shrugged. “They certainly were by the time we were finished.” Everyone laughed and Jenny conceded that head-removal was a fairly reliable way to diagnose death. Suddenly, they were all startled by a loud voice booming through a hand-held loud hailer.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” the slightly crackling, distorted voice intoned, “The witch trials will begin in fifteen minutes and will be followed by the community celebration and barbecue. Would any witches wishing to participate in the trials please make their way to the stage.”

“it’s time!” the blonde bounced up and down. “I just know this is going to be my year! You in?” She turned to Jenny with a broad grin. “You’re dressed for it after all!”

“Sure!” Jenny laughed. “Why not?”

A tall, attractive middle-aged woman, also dressed a witch but with a more elegant take on the look consisting of long, tight black dress, black opera cape, long silk gloves and the obligatory black pointed hat approached the girls.

“Go on.” She smiled at them. “You have fun. I’ll watch the stew.”

“Thanks, Mum!” the brunette grinned and the three teenage witches scampered off with Jenny following very close behind them.

“You should go and get a good place to stand,” the mother of the brunette witch and presumably of at least one of the little girls in the stew suggested to Jerry who was stood looking a little unsure of himself. “The crowd tends to form pretty quickly and you want to make sure you can see!” He and his sister had always been close but in the few short months since they moved they had done practically everything together, mostly because neither of them had made many new friends yet, but now she had gone off with a group of other girls for an activity he could not join in with. With a smile to the woman, he handed back him now-empty cup which she dropped into a bin-liner concealed from general view behind the cauldron and wandered off to find a space from which to watch the witch trials, whatever they may actually consist of.

There was indeed quite a crowd already gathered and he found himself close to the edge, next to where spits were being lit over freshly-lit charcoal pits. This was clearly for the community barbecue and he wondered what, or who, would be on the menu. He did not have to wait very long for an answer.

“Good luck!” He heard a young girl’s voice not too far from him and turned to see, just the other side of the fence around the cooking area, a girl of nine or ten, naked apart from a pair of cat ears and a choker, with dark blonde hair hugging a slightly older girl in a witch costume including an impressive bright red wig. Behind her was stood a girl of maybe thirteen or fourteen with curly, dark-brown hair, wearing only a little makeup and a pair of devil horns. He knew the etiquette when it came to meat-girls was to consider them simply as food but he was a teenage boy after all and couldn’t help eyeing her up and down, very much liking what he saw.

“You’d better not bloody win!” The dark-haired girl laughed as she warned the red-haired witch who was around her age but shorter and a little chubbier. “Otherwise people are gonna be hungry!”

“I won’t, I promise!” The witch laughed. “I just want to join in one last time, you know? And if by some freak chance all the other contestants are total wusses and I do win, I don’t think you’d be short of volunteers to take my place!”

“True!” The naked brunette laughed. “Break a leg, or turn into a toad or whatever it is witches say to each other!” With a wave and a giggle, the girl left her companions and made her way up to the stage where seven other girls were waiting, including Jenny and the three teens. Stood with them was an older teenager, maybe sixteen or seventeen years old, sporting a green and black wig and dressed in high boots, a black bikini with a neon green cobweb design on it and a sheer, black, cobweb-patterned cloak, topped of course with a pointy black hat but hers had a neon green plastic spider stuck on about half way up as if it was crawling. There was also a little girl of no more than six in an orange and purple fairy-tale witch costume with a green face and hooked nose like Jenny and finally a blonde girl of maybe ten in a dress that looked as if it had been made from an over-sized t-shirt cut to jagged points at the sleeves and rim, a thick, shiny black belt, purple and black striped tights and a home-made pointy hat made from black cardboard. She did not have any makeup or facepaint on but held a “Wicked Witch” plastic mask in her hand.

Jerry was curious about the competition but also quite keen to strike up a conversation with the leggy brunette with very nice perky little tits who was stood just a few feet away from him. It occurred to him he could combine both goals in one and, if he made a fool of himself with the girl, what did it really matter? In less than an hour she would be cooked.

“Hey!” He leant on the fence in what he hoped was a nonchalent manner and smiled at her.

“Hey yourself!” She turned and replied with a slightly cynical raised eyebrow.

“I’m Jerry.” He smiled and held out his hand. The girl stepped a bit closer, leaving the younger meat-girl to lean on her own section of the fence and watch as the witches chatted excitedly to each other, but did not shake his offered hand. After a few awkward seconds he retracted it.

“Courtney.” She informed him with a slight smirk, clearly finding his awkwardness amusing. Things were already not going as well as Jerry had hoped. “You must be pretty hungry, the way you were looking at me?”

“Umm, yeah.” Jerry replied, not needing a mirror to know that he was blushing furiously. He tried desperately get the conversation back on track. “So what was that about making sure she doesn’t win? What happens then? Does she have to over-see the rest of the festival or something? Surely she could get cooked just a little later?”

“You’re new around here, aren’t you?” Courtney laughed. “Obviously if she wins it means her meat goes to waste!”

“Wasted how?” Jerry was confused. Courtney pointed to the white cloth cone he and his sister had been pondering earlier. “What do you think’s under there?” The girl sighed as if Jerry was being especially dense. He starred at her blankly and she rolled her eyes. “The competition is to find out which one is the real witch, right?” She explained slowly as if she were talking to a five year old, “And what happens to witches?”

“They fly on brooms?” Jerry ventured, “They… oh shit!”

“Got it now?” laughed Courtney.

“The winner gets burned at the stake?”

“Yup! What a waste of a tasty little piggy, huh?”

“But that other girl seemed so keen to win…” Jerry’s mind raced. “Said she’d been trying for years…”

“Well yeah, being the Halloween Witch is a pretty major honour!” Courtney shrugged. “Personally I’d rather be cooked and eaten than burned but you probably guessed that already!” She gave him, finally, a genuine smile. “Each to their own and all that. Did you see that girl who was hooked up to all the electric stuff? Rather her than me!”

“Yeah I did!” Jerry was pleased that the conversation was starting to go a little better but now worried for his sister. She clearly hadn’t known what she had been signing up for – what if she were to win? “She did seem to be enjoying herself ‘though. Sorry,” He gave an apologetic smile, “I’d better go and warn my sister. She didn’t know what this game was about.”

“Too late.” Courtney indicated the stage with a tilt of her head. “They’re about to get started. Anyway, they’re all sharing tips and stuff, I bet the others will have filled her in by now and she still seems to be smiling!”

“True!” Jerry shrugged. Short of rushing up onto the stage and causing a scene, embarrassing his sister in front of the very people she had entered the competition to get in with, there was very little he could do but wait and hope that Jenny was not the winner. Although, as exciting as he had found the other attractions that evening, he could not help pondering what it would be like to watch his twin sister consumed by flames.

“Tell you what,” Courtney laughed, “if she does win, I’ll blow you to make up for it, how does that sound?”

“Umm, deal, I guess?” Jerry replied awkwardly, blushing even more furiously than before. The naked meat-girl licked her lips and winked at him, doing nothing to ease his embarrassment, before turning her attention, like everyone else, to the stage. Now Jerry could not help but be in two minds about his preferred outcome for the contest!

“Basically, it works like this.” The blonde witch was hurridly explaining to Jenny who had admitted she did not know what to expect but had not been the least bit phased by the potential outcome. She had secretly been pondering, as they had watched all the beautiful naked girls tortured and in some cases killed for their entertainment that evening, what she could do next year to join in. If she ended up burned at the stake, cheered on by all her new neighbours, then so be it – it would certainly be a great first impression! “All the tests are meant to be things that wouldn’t hurt a witch, so if you want to win, you have to act like it doesn’t hurt.”

“Okay?” Jenny gulped, a little nervously, “What about the ducking stool? I remember reading about those in school. Wasn’t it supposed to be that if you floated you were a witch and if you sank you were innocent?”

“In real life, yeah.” The girl explained quickly, knowing that they were nearly out of time, “But they flipped it around for these ones as it’s pretty hard to make yourself float more than someone else. When they tip you in, you’ll find a little metal ring on the bottom you can hold onto to keep yourself down. It’s pretty much a test to see who can hold their breath for longest.”

“I see!” Jenny exclaimed, “Has anyone ever drowned doing it?”

“Not as far as I know.” the older girl admitted. “It’s pretty much impossible to drown yourself anyway, your body won’t let you however much you want it. There’s been a few drowning games for trick-or-treaters other years, dunk-tanks and that sort of thing, but the girl getting drowned always has to be held down something, by a weight or chains or something and every single time, they start fighting at the end. It’s one of those weird things.”

“Okay,” Jenny nodded, a little reassured that she would not accidentally drown herself. “What about the other tests?”

“No time!” The girl whispered quickly. “Just remember to act like they don’t hurt if you want to win!”

“Okay.” Jenny said again, a little more resolutely, taking a deep breath and steeling herself for the ordeal to come. “Bring it on!”

“Ladies and Gentlemen!” cried the host who was dressed in the garb of a medieval Witchfinder, “Good folk of all ages! Draw close and bear witness as we seek to rid our community of Satan’s most insidious ally, the witch!” The crowed booed but in a good-natured way, as if they were watching a pantomime and the baddie had just come on stage. “First, let us meet our suspects!” The girls were told to line up and did so, but in no particular order. “Tell us your name, oh cursed ones, and how old you are!” He pointed to the ginger-haired girl from the lawn.

“Rose,” she stepped forward and gave a little curtsy, “I’m fifteen.”

“Katie.” The red-wigged meat-girl introduced herself. “I’m thirteen.” Then it was Jenny’s turn.

“I’m Jenny.” she smiled nervously at the audience, pleased to spot her brother and wishing that her parents knew she was joining in so they could come and watch too. She hoped someone would think to go tell them if she on, so they could at least watch her burn. “I’m thirteen too.”

“Miranda.” The blonde witch who had been advising Jenny and was desperate to win stepped forward and made a little bob. “Fifteen.”

“My name’s Gemma,” the smallest girl told the crowd, “and I’m six.” Up until now, the crowd had kept in character by booing and hissing each contestant as they introduced themselves but Gemma was just too cute and nobody could bring themselves too, instead there was a mixture of applause and awws.

“Hi everyone,” the oldest girl and most scantily-clad girl stepped forward, “I’m Rebecca and I’m seventeen.”

“Sam.” The little girl in the cheaply home-made costume introduced herself a little nervously. “I’m ten years old.” Finally it was the turn of the brunette from the lawn.

“Claire,” she introduced herself with a flourishing bow, “I’m fourteen.”

“So now we know each of our suspects.” The Witchfinder resumed, “Personally, I think we should burn them all to be on the safe side and let God and Satan take their own on the other side but Justice must prevail so we shall begin the trials. A second Witchfinder walked along the line taking the hats off the girls’ heads but leaving the wigs when one was worn and tied their hands behind their backs.

Looking over at the ducking tank with the mechanised chair, Jerry noticed that there was some sort of clock, like a giant stop-watch set up next to it. The Witchfinder General went and stood beside it and bellowed an order at his subordinate.

“Bring forth the first suspect!”

The girls were to be tried in the order in which they had introduced themselves. Jenny was quite pleased that she did not have to go first but was also rather grateful that her turn would come quite quickly and she wouldn’t have to watch in nervous anticipation as girl after girl were tried before her. On the other hand, she was not too thrilled about the idea of having to stand in soaking wet clothes on the rather chilly late-October evening but she supposed she would be able to tolerate it as long as the trials did not go on too long. She could always run home and change afterwards, assuming she did not win of course, at which point wet clothes might be a different kind of issue but probably the least of her worries. She wondered if that was part of the thinking behind Rebecca’s far skimpier outfit.

Rose was the first to be led to the chair. She side-stepped along the narrow plank and sat down, looking slightly nervous as if she was bracing herself for what was about to happen. The crowd happily counted down from five and, on zero, the Witchfinder General pulled a lever which both pitched the girl forward into the water and started the clock. There was a fairly big splash then nothing for a short time before the red-head burst out of the water, gasping for air.

“Twenty four seconds!” Bellowed the Witchfinder General, looking at the clock as Rose was helped out of the water by his assistant and the chair reset. The waiting girls all shuffled down the platform making room at the far end for the soaking-wet teen to rejoin them. She was shivering and hugging herself.

“It’s way colder than last year!” She muttered as Katie was led to the chair. The Witchfinder General recorded Rose’s score on a chalk slate before encouraging the crowd to count down again. Katie managed twenty six seconds and, more impressively in Jenny’s opinion, kept her wig on!

Now it was Jenny’s turn. Nervously, she side-stepped along the plank as she had seen the others do and sat herself down in the hard wooden chair. She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to hold onto the ring if her hands were tied behind her back. She supposed she might be able to grip it with her teeth but that did not sound especially safe. Then suddenly she felt the rope slacken and the junior Witchfinder winked at her before giving the signal that all was ready. It was then that she realised that both previous girls had had their arms loose when they climbed out of the tank and the rope was clearly just for effect.

Wondering if she would have as much success with her nose as Katie had with her wig and realising that her face-paint was probably a write-off, Jenny listened to the crowd counting down and braced herself, glad of Rose’s warning that the water was especially cold. The lever was pulled and she found herself plunged into the water which indeed felt icy. She could feel it soaking through her dress, tights, bra and underwear as she fumbled around trying to grab hold of the metal ring. She had not thought to start counting but did so as soon as she had hold. Apart from anything else, it provided a mental distraction from the increasingly urgent burning in her chest and she started to realise why it was all but impossible for a person to drown themselves without help. Reaching twenty seven, she finally gave up and pushed down with her feet, propelling herself as fast as possible to the surface and into the fresh air.

“Thirty two seconds!” Bellowed the Witchfinder General. This was clearly an impressive score and the audience could not help but applaud. Jenny realised that she may in fact stand a very real chance of winning the competition. Of course there were more tests to come so anything could happen but at least, she reasoned to herself, she would not disgrace herself by going out in the first round.

“You’re not going to be easy to beat, are you?” Miranda whispered, a hint or jealous irritation in her voice as Jenny walked past her to take her place, shivering alongside the first two “suspects”, at the end of the line.

“Sorry!” She replied with an apologetic smile before the blonde teen was led to the chair, achieving a score of thirty one seconds. Not quite as good as Jenny but surely enough to keep her in the game at least. Next was little Gemma’s turn and, to most people in the audience’s relief, she bobbed to the surface almost immediately and, as she was clearly not going to progress any further in the competition, sent straight back to her mum who was waiting with a warm, dry blanket and cup of hot little-sister stew. The crowd gave the little girl a second round of applause as a reward for having the courage to at least join in.

Rebecca achieved a score of thirty five seconds. Possibly, Jenny wondered, as she was older and more physically mature she had a better lung capacity. Ten year old Sam managed a surprisingly impressive twenty eight seconds and finally Claire who came up after twenty seconds but did not look as if she had been trying especially hard. Both Jenny and Jerry who was watching from the edge of the crowd, splitting his attention fairly evenly between the trial and Courtney’s bare backside, suspected that Miranda’s two friends had agreed to try to help her win, without making it too obvious.

Along with Gemma, Claire and Rose were declared innocent and sent down into the audience leaving the five remaining suspects shivering on the stage.

“And so concludes the ordeal by water!” Announced the Witchfinder General. “Now begins the trial by ice! Foul servants of the Devil, hold out your left hands, for,” he turned to impart this piece of trivia to the audience, “the left is the hand favoured by Satan and all those who perform his works!”

The junior Witchfinder picked up a bucket with a lid. Condensation escaped as he opened it. Taking a pair of rubber-tipped kitchen tongs, he went quickly along the line, dropping a ball of ice around the size of a golf-ball into each outstretched hand.

“This isn’t so bad?” Jenny whispered to Miranda, “I mean, it’s not nice as I’m already so cold but…”

“Just wait!” Miranda cautioned her, not unkindly.

“When I give the order,” the Witchfinder General instructed, “you are to close your hands and form a tight fist around the ice. The more evil and powerful your witchcraft, the longer Satan will protect you for. Now on the count of three. One. Two. Three!” The girls all obediently gripped the ice.

Almost immediately, Jenny realised why this was considered an ordeal. She knew that extreme cold could have a very similar effect to extreme heat and after only a few seconds, it started to feel not as if she was clasping a ball of ice but rather a ball of red-hot iron. She tried not to scream, willing her hand to stay closed. She felt a quick pang of relief as Rebecca cursed and dropped hers, shaking her hand as if trying to bring it back to life. Next to drop theirs was Katie. Clearly the contest would now be over for her but she did not mind as she had more important duties to attend to afterwards.

“The innocent have shown themselves!” The Witchfinder General announced. “You remaining servants of Satan may release the ice.” All three did so with extreme gratitude, dropping their ice-balls onto the stage where they rolled down onto the tarmac road at the feet of the crowd. “May they now be absolved of any guilt and live out their remaining time in the light of God.” There was polite applause as the two “innocent” girls left the stage.

“Now we have but three suspects remaining!” The Witchfinder General informed the crowd. “And for the next ordeal, it is required that they remove all clothing!” This came as a surprise to Jenny. She has not intended to show off her naked body to the neighbourhood on her first meeting with most of them but, she reasoned, she would be far from the only naked girl there that night and it would certainly be nice to get out of the wet clothes. To a mixture of boos, hoots, whistles and cat-calls, the three soaking-wet witches quickly removed their clothes and handed the soggy bundles to the junior Witchfinder who placed them carefully in piles at the corner of the stage.

TRICK OR TREAT Pt7

“Hey, not bad getting that far!” Courtney hugged Katie as she came down off the stage and ducked under the barrier into the cooking area where her little sister and best friend were waiting for her.

“Yeah I’m kinda proud of that.” Katie admitted, giving the little blonde a hug too. “At least now I don’t have to get naked in front of everyone! Oh, wait!” She laughed at her own joke and the other two meat-girls joined in. “Just hope my hair isn’t too messed up under the wig?”

“I don’t think anyone’s that worried about your hair!” Courtney teased, pulling the wig off her friend’s head revealing dirty-blonde hair like the younger girl’s, tied up in a French plait, looking slightly darker than its natural colour due to being wet. At least none of the red pigment in the wig seemed to have leached out. “Honestly, looks pretty good still!” observed Courtney. “I’d leave it like that, don’t try taking it down or anything. It will keep it out the way while you’re cooking.”

“True!” Katie smiled. “Can you get this zip for me?” Jerry couldn’t help watching as the two naked meat-girls helped their companion to strip. The dress came off first and the thirteen year old unhooked her bra and slipped it off, leaving her in only bright orange underwear with a jack-o-lantern face on the front and striped red and black long socks. “Can I help you?” She saw Jerry starring and put her hands on her hips. “Dinner isn’t for another hour or so yet I’m afraid!” The horny teenage boy looked awkwardly down at the floor.

“There’s plenty of tits up on the stage too!” Courtney reminded him teasingly.

“Well yeah,” he muttered, “but two of them belong to my sister.”

“Oh I’m dreadfully sorry, your Holiness.” Courtney gave a low bow, making the other girls giggle. “I wasn’t aware the Pope had moved into our humble little street!”

“I’m just saying…” Jerry was feeling just a little irritated. It seemed pretty hypocritical for the girls to stand around stark naked and yet judge him for looking.

“Saying what?” Courtney pushed. “That you suddenly don’t like tits if they belong to your sister? Pretty sure tits are tits!” She laughed. “What are you gonna do if she doesn’t win but wants to get roasted one day? Make her wear a bikini on the spit? Get people to stand strategically so you can’t see some bits of her?”

“I’m kinda new to all this!” Jerry reminded her, a little exasperated. “Cut me a little slack? Everyone’s going to be looking at your bodies while you’re cooking so what does it matter if I take a little peek now?”

“Relax!” Courtney laughed, “I’m just yanking your chain. Or I will if you ask me nicely!” She winked cheekily and he blushed furiously, despite his annoyance. “Seriously ‘though, you don’t want to miss what’s going on on the stage. Our naked butts will still be here once they’ve lit the fire. I promise you can check them out as long as like then!”

Somewhat reluctantly, Jerry turned his attention to the remaining girls on the stage while Katie wriggled awkwardly out of the soaking wet socks and underwear, actually preferring the feeling of being naked, despite the chill in the air, to the feeling of having the clammy wet fabric against her skin. All three meat-girls turned to watch the stage with Katie’s little sister, who’s name was Mia, standing in front of her and sharing bodily warmth. Fortunately, the freshly-lit coals from the roasting pits were starting to give off very pleasant warmth and all three girls excitedly imagined how it would feel to be turning over them in a fairly short time.

Jenny could not help being a little envious of Miranda’s rather more mature body. She knew that she was not unattractive herself but her breasts were small and still clearly in the early stages of development whereas Miranda’s, while not especially large, were full and round. Whereas Jenny had not yet needed to trim the small tuft of light brown hair between her legs, Miranda had not only shaped hers into a heart but, far more eye-catchingly, dyed it bright orange to match her lipstick and eyeshadow which were clearly far more waterproof than Jenny’s face paint which dribbled in pale green streaks over her chest and down her pale belly. The nose had come off while she was in the ducking tank and she had decided there was little point in retrieving it.

If she was worried about Miranda pulling focus from her own body, however, she could be reasonably sure that there would be more eyes on her than on ten year old Sam who, while possessing a definite prettiness and being pleasingly cute, had no breasts to speak of and was still naturally hairless.

“Now three suspected servants of Satan remain!” The Witchfinder General bellowed to the crowd. “They have endured ordeal by water and ordeal by ice but now they are to endure ordeal by fire! Bring forth the tool of the Lord’s burning justice!” The junior witchfinder came forward carrying a metal bucket in one thickly-gloved hand and a thin iron poker in the other. His attention focussed on Miranda, the girl on the stage who’s exposed body most intrigued him, Jerry noticed a scar about the thickness of a human finger, running diagonally for about ten centimetres on one side of her belly, criss-crossing with an older-looking scar of similar size beneath it. Jerry gasped as his brain connected what he was seeing and the knowledge that Miranda had attempted to win this contest more than once in the past with the implement in the witchfinder’s hand.

He wanted to shout out and warn his sister but he restrained himself. She had endured all the challenges so far with stoic bravery and had the option of putting herself out of the running with any of them but the fact she seemed to be trying her best to remain in the competition reassured him that she would cope with whatever came next.

The bucket was set down, an orange glow radiating from it. The three shivering girls peered in nervously and, while Miranda seemed pretty relaxed with what she saw, having participated several times in the past, Jenny and Sam could not help but gulp. The junior witchfinder plunged the poker into the glowing orange coals, sending up a plume of embers.

“We have seen,” the Witchfinder General reminded the audience, “how the Dark Lord takes care of his own by preventing them from feeling pain. Only those most filled with his evil power could withstand the experience of hot iron pressed into their flesh. He looked into the bucket, checking that the poker was ready, then drew it out. The fifteen or so centimetres at the end were glowing red. He went first to Miranda. “Prepare yourself, Daughter of Darkness!” he instructed before pressing the poker against her belly, crossing over with the two scars from previous years that she had made it this far.

Although the pain was intense and she had to grit her teeth tightly together to endure it, Miranda not only managed not to cry out but to smile as the hot metal sizzled against her tender flesh. It was not quite as bad as she remembered it having been before and wondered whether this was because she was growing used to it, the poker was not as hot as last time or maybe the scars in the area where it was currently burning her were less sensitive and therefore protecting her from the full level of pain she should have been experiencing. Either way, it mattered very little. She was determined not to have to go through this contest another time. She breathed deeply in relief as the poker was pulled away, ripping away small chunks of seared flesh with it, but still did not cry out. In fact she grinned, winked at the audience and announced that it had actually be quite fun, earning her a dramatic but not especially hard slap across the face from the junior witchfinder’s glove.

“This harlot had shown herself to be a powerful disciple of darkness!” The Witchfinder General announced to the audience, placing the poker back in the coals to heat back up. “But is she the true Witch who has been terrorising our good village? That remains to be seen!” He drew the poker out again and Jenny stiffened, bracing herself on the assumption that she would be next but instead he went to little Sam. “Prepare yourself, Daughter of Darkness!” he instructed her as he had Miranda before pressing the metal into her slightly chubby young belly. Almost instantly, she cried out in pain and burst into tears. The Witchfinder General withdrew the poker immediately and brandished it aloft as he addressed the crowd. “Before you all, this fair young maiden has proven her innocence and she is now free to return to her life, he soul cleansed by the Fire of God!” The junior witchfinder led the tearful little girl down off the stage and through the crowd to where a small group of cheaply-dressed people, presumably her family, were waiting for her.

“Should this final Sister of Satan fail to be protected by her Dark Master,” the Witchfinder General put the poker back into the bucket a final time, “then our guilty party shall be made known to us and we shall proceed immediately with the burning, but if she too shows no pain, then there shall be one final ordeal to endure which will prove definitively which is the innocent victim of Satan’s framing and which deserves to be sent back to him in the fires of Hell! Finally, he drew out the poker and approached Jenny. “Prepare yourself, Daughter of Darkness!” he instructed as he had with the first two girls. As he brought the poker close to her skin, Jenny knew that in less than a second she would have a choice to make.

When the metal touched her skin she could scream as she would no doubt want to, and nobody would think any the less of her. After all, she had progressed this far in the competition and Miranda would get her wish of being burned at the stake with no further ado. Or she could try her best not to cry out, to endure it as Miranda had done although she was certain she would not be able to do so with a smile on her face! There would then be a final round and, although Miranda would almost certainly win, she would do so more proudly, knowing that she had faced strong competition. Of course there was always the outside chance that Jenny herself might win. Was she prepared for that? She was stood naked in front of all her new neighbours, preparing to endure torture for their entertainment, but was she ready to burn? It was true that, earlier in the evening she had begun pondering ways she could offer herself to be tortured, possibly to death, next Halloween but that was still a year away. Was she really prepared to die tonight? Annoying one of the closest things to a friend she had made so far in the process? The instant the metal touched her flesh, her mind was made up.

Jenny determinedly muted the cry of pain which formed in her throat to a soft hiss, exhaled through firmly gritted teeth, drowned out but the much louder hiss of hot metal sizzling soft and damp skin. She almost passed out from the pain. Her vision blurred and her knees almost buckled but she fought to stay conscious. The metal was, in truth, only held against for three or four brief seconds but for Jenny if felt as if the intense agony continued for hours. So intense was the pain that passage of time or even the knowledge that there had been life before this moment and would be after became concepts she could not wrap her head around. Finally, with a sickening rip, the poker was pulled away, taking with it the crispy skin and flesh beneath that had practically melted onto the iron.

“It would seem that Satan protects both these foul denizens of the underworld!” The Witchfinder announced triumphantly. “But which does he favour? Which of these two is his unholy bride, worthy to perish in the flames? To determine that, we must subject them to one, final ordeal!”

“You’re really going for this, hug?” Miranda whispered with more admiration than anger as Jenny blinked back hot tears and tried to return her breathing to a steady rhythm.

“Hey, you want an opponent worth winning against eh?” the younger girl managed half a smile. “That took pretty much all I had left, ‘though. Pretty sure you’re going to wipe the floor with me in the next round!”

“Let’s see, eh?” Miranda gave her a cheeky grin. “May the best, or worst girl burn!”

“Looks like your sister’s doing pretty well!” Courtney wandered back over to where Jerry was stood and leaned on the fence separating them, deliberately pushing her small breasts forward and her bum out behind her. “Fingers crossed, eh? You might get that blow job after all!”

“What do I get if she looses?” he asked cheekily, already feeling himself harden at the mere thought of any kind of sexual contact with the girl he would very soon afterwards have for dinner.

“Hmm!” Courtney put a thoughtful finger to her mouth, “We’ll have to discuss that if and when it happens! She watched the stage being set up ready for the next and final ordeal for a moment then over at her two fellow meat-girls. “Cute sisters, aren’t they?” Jerry nodded. “You know, it was Katie who volunteered first. Well, me really but Katie of the two of them. We’re best friends.” she explained, remembering that Jerry did not know anything about any of them beyond their names and how they looked in their birthday suits. “So we decided to go together, but then Mia said if Katie was getting cooked then she had to be too, so the organisers agreed.”

“Pity they don’t get to taste each other ‘though.” Jerry observed with a small chuckle, wondering again how he would feel if his sister, also his closest friend, were to volunteer her meat at some point in the future.

“Oh, girls don’t generally taste that different.” Courtney reminded him, standing up and sensuously running her hands over her own chest and down her belly to her thighs. “Although I’ve been working out to get my meat nice and toned. Think I’m gonna be tasty?” She posed with her hands on her hips and winked at him. He took in the lithe torso, long shapely legs, small but perky breasts, flat belly and smooth lips beneath, all hair removed ready for the spit.

“I think you’re going to be absolutely delicious!” He used the back of his hand to wipe away the small drip of saliva that had formed at the corner of his mouth, desperately trying to ignore the throbbing in his underpants.

“I hope so!” the brunette smiled. “Of course some things you just have to be born with, like a great butt! I mean, mine’s nice and all, I hope you’d agree?” Jerry nodded, hoping it was the right answer to give. “But those two…” She inclined her head towards the blonde sisters who were stood with their backs to them, leaning slightly forward on the fence watching the activity on the stage. She kissed the tips of her fingers before opening her hand, the way chef’s do in movies and cartoons to show that the food they’ve just prepared is absolutely delectable. Jerry followed her eyeline and could not help but agree. Both had round bubble-butts so juicy-looking that he felt like leaping the fence and taking bites out of them right then and there.

“Woah.” Courtney laughed, putting a hand on his chest, “There’ll be plenty to go around once we’re all cooked! Look!” she pointed up to the stage, “They’re about to start again.” To Jerry’s shock she reached over the fence, grabbed hold of his rock-hard member, which was at least twice its normal size, outside his trousers and gave it a playful squeeze! “Good luck!” She winked again before turning back to watch the show.

TRICK OR TREAT Pt8

One the stage, a wooden frame had been brought out, like a larger version of something that might be found back-stage at a fashion show with the model’s outfits hanging from it although it was not clothes suspended from this rail. The two girls still in the contest had been tied with their hands above their head, roughly shoulder-width apart, and their feet spread, tied with ropes and pegged to the wooden floor of the stage.

Although she had actually quite enjoyed being stood naked in front of all her new neighbours and anyone else who had come to watch the show, which was apparently quite famous locally, being tied up like this made her feel extremely vulnerable and, for the first time, a little scared. Somehow the ropes around her wrists and ankles brought home the reality of the competition – the winner really was going to be tied to a post and burned to death! She wondered what the final ordeal could be and whether there was a way she could allow Miranda to win without making it too obvious that she was “throwing” the contest.

Miranda, on the other hand, looked positively blissful, tied up and exposed. Her head tilted back slightly and her
eyes were closed but there was a gentle smile on her lips. She was using the technique she had been practising since last Halloween to help her endure the pain. She pictured herself far away from her body and whatever was being done to it, sat on an otherwise empty beach with the warm, salty water lapping around her legs. She had heard this was a useful way to ignore pain and, from the small experiments she had made at home with pins and candle flames, it seemed fairly effective. Of course if she were to find herself on the pyre, she would want to relish every second of it that she could, letting the pain engulf her like the water of a warm bath at the end of a long day but, in order to get there, she had to avoid showing any reaction to the pain that would come before.

“And now, good people!” Bellowed the Witchfinder General, “We come to our final ordeal to prove which of these Daughters of Darkness is the Chief Witch and which is merely in her thrall!” The junior Witchfinder brought forward a pillow. Jerry strained to see what was on it but couldn’t at first, then the Witchfinder General picked up and brandished two long, thin metal skewers.

“Ooh I really love this bit!” Courtney sighed, close beside Jerry, “Kinda what made me agree to be spit-roasted!”

“Have you ever gone in for this before?” Jerry asked, curiously, without taking his eyes off the stage as the junior witchfinder blindfolded both girls with thick black scarves.

“Once, two years ago, but it was a bit embarrassing.” The meat-girl admitting. “I couldn’t hold my breath for very long and went out in the first round. Oh don’t worry, I’ve been practising since then!” Jerry glanced over at her an immediately blushed as he saw her making a crude gesture with her fist a little way from her open mouth and her tongue pushing out her cheek. She laughed at his embarrassment. “At least by volunteering like this I know exactly what’s going to happen to me. Just kinda sucks that I’ll miss the after-party. That’s always really wild!”

“What’s the after-party?” asked Jerry.

“You should have got an invite if you live on the street.” Courtney informed him. Casting his mind back, Jerry could remember his parents getting a card through the door saying that there would be a get-together later that night at number thirty two but he had not given it a lot of thought, assuming it would be one of those boring adult get-togethers where everyone just stands and chats awkwardly with a glass of cheap wine. Of course that was before he’d learned how his new community liked to celebrate this particular holiday. “The hosts always put on a great show and the families take it in turns. I hear the Bracewells have hired a giant python and they’re going to feed one of their daughters to it. I also heard something about a tank of piranhas!”

“Wow!” Jerry exclaimed for what felt like the hundredth time that evening. “That sounds like quite something!”

“Yeah the games are a little more exciting too.” Courtney explained fondly, “You know, a little riskier?”

“Riskier how?” Jerry was confused. All the games he had seen so far that night involved the potential death of severe wounding of at least one girl. What bigger risk could there be?

“Well you know how with the ones on the street it’s basically about whether the girl is going to get killed or not?” the lithe-bodied teenager explained patiently, “Well with the games at the after-party, it usually goes both ways and it’s just as risky to play them as to be part of them!”

“That does sound pretty exciting!” Jerry admitted. As a boy, he was excluded from being eaten or being used for snuff-games like the ones his neighbours had set up and, while he in no way actually wanted to die, he was a little jealous of the girls putting themselves in danger, of the adrenaline rush that must come from having your neck locked into a guillotine and only random chance to decide whether you lived or died, or to have a swinging blade ready to slice you in two should your peers choose to indulge their greed. The idea that there were games he could be an active part of at the after-party was quite exciting.

“Let your parents know you want to go, after you’ve had some food of course!” She winked at him and shimmied her small breasts. Jerry really could not tell whether the naked girl had any kind of genuine interest in him, as short-lived as any kind of relationship may inevitably be, whether the idea of getting cooked was making her horny and he was just the closest available boy or whether she was actually just making a game out of embarrassing him and making him blush!

His focus was drawn back to the stage by a collective gasp from the audience. The Witchfinder General had stepped behind the girls and driven a skewer into the buttock of each, driving it at least an inch deep. Neither girl cried out although Jerry could see that his sister was biting her lip and breathing quite fast while Miranda continued to look serene.

The Witchfinder general pulled the skewers out with a fast yank, splashing small amounts of blood onto the wooden stage. For a moment he held them aloft before plunging them into the girls’ thighs. This time, Miranda did show a small reaction as if she were experiencing discomfort but nothing worse. Jenny gritted her teeth and let out a slow hiss. She was not entirely sure why she was still trying not to react when she had already decided she would prefer not to win but there was something that made her continue to try, a sense of pride that would not allow her to simply quit.

Having the skewer yanked out was almost more painful than having it pushed in but it was the element of surprise thanks to the blindfolds, not knowing exactly where or when you were going to be stabbed, that presented the greatest challenge to Jenny as she tried to ignore the pain and not express the shock she felt. The next piercing, however, straight down through the breast, behind the nipple, was too much and Jenny let out a high-pitched shriek. As soon as she had done so, despite knowing that she would still have to endure the skewer bring removed, she felt the waves of relief wash over her.

The scream brought Miranda to her senses too, pulling her back into her conscious body from her internal safe haven. Waves of relief crashed over her too but for a very different reason, and hers were mixed with excitement and arousal. She was going to be declared Chief Witch and take meet her end among the flames.

“Oh well.” Courtney laughed as Jenny was untied and declared innocent of the charges against her. “I guess you don’t get your blow-job!” Jerry blushed and began to step away, planning to go meet his sister off the stage. “Hey! Where are you going?” Courtney grabbed the ruffle on the front of his vampire shirt and pulled him close. “I said you weren’t gonna get blown, but you want your consolation prize, don’t you?” She yanked him closer, pressing her mouth to his and exploring it with her tongue. As she did so, still holding onto his shirt with her left hand she slid her right down the front of his trousers and began to massage his cock which, while still relatively small due to his young age, was rock hard and the biggest it had ever been. So excited was he by the naked meat-girl’s touch, especially after the way she had been teasing him through the contest, he did not last long, exploding into her hand in less than a minute.

“Someone’s a gracious loser for sure!” Courtney laughed, drawing out her hand and seductively licking her fingers clean. Just then, they were joined by Jenny who had not bothered to put back on the soaking wet dress and stood naked apart from her witch’s hat.

“Hey!” She grinned. “You seem to be making friends!”

“Oh! Yeah…” Jerry stammered. “Courtney, this is my sister Jenny and Jenny this is…”

“Dinner!” Courtney cut him off before he could formally introduce her. “A few minutes more, once your friend there is dealt with,” she pointed to Miranda on the stage who was still tied up and now being smeared but both Witchfinders with a thick, bluish-black substance, “I’ll be going over the coals with my friends here. I guess we need to start prepping.” She smiled at the twins. “Nice to meet you, hope you enjoy your food and the after-party, try not to get swallowed by the python.” She winked at Jerry. “Oh and you just cost your brother a blow-job!” She prodded Jenny on her uninjured breast, “I guess you owe him!” With that, she turned and walked over to the naked blonde sisters who were talking to a middle-aged woman who was holding some kind of large tub in her arms.

“Wow, what’s happening now?” Jerry pointed up to the stage, desperate to change the subject. Jenny looked where he pointed and saw a narrow rubber tube being fed down Miranda’s throat, a funnel on the end, as she stood still restrained, her body now coated in the presumably flammable gel or oil or whatever it was. The closest thing either of the twins had seen to what was happening was in an old comedy movie they’d seen on TV about American college students where, at a party, some young man had stood on his head, head a tube like this pushed into his mouth and beer poured down it. As they watched, the junior Witchfinder held the funnel up while the Witchfinder General picked up a glass gallon jug of some light blue, transparent liquid and proceeded to pour the entire contents down the tube directly into Miranda’s stomach which bulged outwards as if she were in the middle stage of pregnancy. She coughed and spluttered as the tube was removed but managed to keep the liquid down. The ropes were untied and her black, pointed hat was placed back on her head.

She was then led, a little unsteadily, towards to white-covered cone. The sheet was pulled away to reveal a bonfire with a pole sticking up the middle and a set of crude steps leading up to the top. Miranda, pretending to protest and plead her innocence as the role demanded, was prodded and pushed up the steps and stood obediently with her back to the post as her hands were tied behind it and her feet secured.

TRICK OR TREAT Pt9

The crowd cheered as the flames were lit and the Witchfinders retreated to a safe distance. Early experiments had shown that watching a girl getting burned to death the traditional way could actually be quite an upsetting experience even for an audience with an appetite for deadly entertainments. A few genuine screams could be exciting but when it continued, interspersed often with tearful pleading as the girl realised just how slow and painful an experience it was, it became quite distressing. Beyond that, it lacked spectacle also. Only those closest to the fire could really see the girl and for those further back it was just a typical bonfire.

Over the years, different ideas had been tried out to make the girl’s death quicker and the show more of a climax to the trials. In early years, the organisers had found that many of the visitors had wandered off out of lack of interest or left for their own peace of mind before the “Witch” was even dead. The trouble lay in trying to find a solution that both shortened the girl’s suffering and made for a better show – many of the suggested methods worked for one goal but not the other.

Fireworks had been tried, either secreted in the bonfire itself or stuffed into various orifices of the girl prior to burning but these could be a little unpredictable and either resulted in some quite messy debris as chunks of the girl’s flesh were blown off or posed a risk to the audience as they shot off at random angles, sometimes into the crowd.

Coating the girl in oil had been tried which meant she was consumed by the flames much faster but did nothing to improve the entertainment value. They had also tried having the girl hold a bag of gunpowder in her mouth with a discrete fuse leading up to it so her head would spectacularly explode before the smoke choked her or fire actually burned her to death but, however willingly the girls had participated in the contest and strived to win, they would often panic when the fire was lit and, of the three times this method had been tried, the bag had been spat out twice resulting in dangerous explosions, one of which had caused severe burns to a member of the public and a lawsuit had only very narrowly been avoided.

Eventually, the method used on Miranda was settled upon and had been used, with various tweaks and refinements, for the past two years. The naked teen’s screams were certainly genuine as the flammable gel that coated her body drew the flames up and around her, but it was as the liquid in her swollen belly began to heat up that spectacle truly occurred.

Miranda’s head was thrown back violently as the vapour forced its way up through her throat and ignited as it emerged and made contact with the orange flames, sending a plume of blue fire shooting up towards the sky. The audience oohed and aahed at the display but the most spectacular moment was still to come. As the flames ate through Miranda’s delicate young body, they finally reached her stomach and touched the liquid, most of which still remained in its original form inside her.

There was an explosion but more of a whooshing, popping sound like a Bunsen-burner being lit that the bang of conventional explosives. The blue fire plume stopped abruptly replaced by a glowing blue aura in an oval shape surrounding Miranda from crotch to head, her blackened bones clearly silhouetted against the blue glow which seemed to hang in the air for a good few seconds before collapsing in on itself after which the bones, stripped in an instant of any flesh, tumbled down into the fire, which continued to burn merrily, leaving her legs to slowly char and her forearms dangly limply by the wrist. The crowd burst into a spontaneous and enthusiastic round of applause, complete with whoops and cheers, none more so than the twins who had had no idea what to expect. Jenny couldn’t help reflecting how close she had come to being the one consumed by the blue light and wondered how it must have felt to be not just burned but obliterated in an instant.

“And thus is her soul cleansed of evil and returned to her maker in Heaven!” Announced the Witchfinder General before removing his hat and taking a sweeping bow, to the slightly more subdued applause of the audience.

“Do you think it’s okay if we go home and I get some more clothes before we do anything else?” Jenny asked. “I know some other girls are naked and I don’t mind that so much but I’m wet and cold. It would be really annoying to survive tonight just to die from pneumonia next week, you know?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Jerry replied a little wistfully, looking over the fence at the meat-girls who were coating each other in some kind of reddish-brown sauce or marinate. It was incredibly sexy to watch and he was reluctant to move away but he understood his sister’s need and also wanted to tell his parents about the after-party and how much he wanted to go. He thought about just letting his sister go on her own but there were far more people around now, not just neighbours, and he couldn’t help but feel a little protective over her. If they were quick, he reasoned, they might even be back in time to watch the spitting.

“What was that about blow jobs?” Jenny asked, a little incredulously, as they walked back through the increasingly busy celebrations to their house.

“She promised she’d blow me if you won the competition,” Jerry admitted a little nervously, “to make up for losing my sister.”

“Oh I see!” Jenny laughed. “Well, so sorry to survive and spoil your fun!” She was clearly teasing but Jerry still felt a little awkward. “So Little Miss Meat-slut reckons I owe you one now, does she?” She stuck out her tongue. “Does she mean I’m supposed to give you one myself? Would you even want that?”

“Eww no!” Jerry pulled a face, knowing even as the words were coming out of his mouth that they were a lie and hoping that he wasn’t making it obvious by over-reacting. It had been a good four or five years since the twins had been naked around each other and he was certainly impressed with the way his sister had matured. If Jenny was aware of the deceit, she did not call him on it. “Just get me one from someone else later if you can, huh?” Jenny laughed again.

“From witch to wingman!” she chuckled. They arrived back at the house and rang the doorbell as neither had thought to take keys out with them. Their mum answered the door holding a big bowl of candy, clearly expecting Trick-or-Treaters.

“Oh, hi!” She grinned, “I didn’t expect you back so soon! Is everything…” she trailed off as she noticed her daughter’s naked and soaking wet condition. “What happened to you? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine!” Jenny giggled. “Bit cold ‘though, as you can imagine! Jerry can explain, I’m going upstairs to change!” With that, she pushed past her stunned parent and ran up the stairs. Following her inside, Jerry explained to his parents how their new neighbours liked to celebrate Halloween and told them an edited version of what had gone on so far that night. Then he came to the after-party.

“Well,” his dad grinned, “that certainly does sound like a lot of fun and it’s a great way to meet the new neighbours! Just give us half an hour or so to change and we’ll come join you.”

“Do you mind if I head out and meet up with you later?” Jerry asked, fidgeting a little awkwardly. “Just I… I made this new friend, kinda, and I don’t want to miss her show.”

“Ooh! A girl, is it?” his mum teased affectionately. “Well make sure you introduce us to her later!”

“I… don’t think that’s going to be possible!” Jerry chuckled a little awkwardly. “But you might be able to try a slice or two!”

THE END… FOR NOW!