Beetlejuice At Convergence

NOTE: This is my entry for the

2021 Literotica Geek Pride Story Event

! It's a stand-alone, but if you want more than a paragraph of the backstory and main characters, please read my earlier story for the 2020 Halloween Event, "

The Case of Lydia Deetz Beetlejuice

."

Beetlejuice at CON: Where Science Fiction and Reality Meet

"Babe, if you wanted some strange, you shoulda just said so. You don't gotta drag us to the middle of nowhere to play Eyes Wide Shut with a bunch of weirdos. This whole thing sounds like a geek breeding program," BJ said flopping down on the hotel bed and watching me undress with a teasing look on his handsome face.

I still couldn't believe I was married, much less to a nearly omnipotent sex-fiend ghost. When I turned 18, I found out that the wedding we had to save the Maitlands from exorcism was binding and that I was really married to Beetlejuice. Not only that, but until BJ could be re-born into the world of the living, we had to have sex every 6 hours or so or else I would begin to join him on the dead side. One of the many rules of the dead, written up in a book called The Handbook for the Recently Deceased that was seriously boring reading. Who knew that being dead was such a compliance nightmare?

"Look, maybe it's limited to age 18+ today, but I told you already it's not a sex thing! CONvergence is a costume and science fiction fantasy thing. I'm getting some footage and interviews for my cosplay convention film thesis for school, but you don't have to go if you don't want to. Just stay in the room and watch porn, if you want."

"Don't think I won't. I'm in the middle of my Shannon Tweed marathon," he said, looking down and tapping on his phone.

"Okay fine. I'll just go do my CON stuff and pop back to the room when I... um... you know... need to," I said, blushing and pulling my Beauxbatons school uniform costume over my head.

BJ snorted without looking up from his screen, "Don't bother. I'll take care of ya without all that fuss."

"Wh...what do you mean?" I asked, getting a sinking feeling in my stomach as I pulled my sheer stockings up my legs and lifted the loose skirt of my powder blue dress to fasten them to my garter belt. My nervous fingers fumbled with the clasp and it flew back, snapping me in the hip and making me yelp in pain.

Suddenly, BJ was no longer on the bed and I felt him behind me, sliding his hand along my bare thigh. Goosebumps raised up all over my skin and I felt him chuckle against my neck at the shiver that went through me. "What I mean is... I will fuck you as much as you need me to or want me to today... wherever you are... whatever you're doing... whoever is around..." he growled softly, brushing his lips against my ear and taking a garter strap and effortlessly fastening it to my stocking. Did I mention BJ had magic? It shouldn't surprise you, of course, because anyone who can handle a garter strap with that much ease has to be cheating the laws of physics.

"What? NO! It's a conference! There are people everywhere! You can't!" I protested, panicking and yet melting as his hands took another of my garter straps and snapped it into place.

"Oh, I really can, kid. Wouldn't even be hard," he assured me, going to his knees and ducking his head under my skirt to fasten my garter straps in back. I felt his stubbly cheek brush against my bottom, his breath against the back of my thigh.

"No, I mean... just... just wait for me here. I'll need to come back and change costumes when I go to the different breakouts anyway..." I panted. He grunted noncommittally, which I was pretty sure meant that he was going to do whatever he wanted... as usual. The thought of it sent a rush of warmth between my thighs. I felt myself getting really wet and hoped he wouldn't notice because I was already late in starting on the packed agenda that I had set for myself.

His hands brushed lightly against my bottom as he pulled the last garter strap out from where it was tucked under the belt. I felt him pull the strap down, almost too far down. I held completely still, becoming tense as I waited, fearing that any movement would betray my excitement. When the strap released and snapped hard against my bare bottom, I knew my agenda was a lost cause. "Ow! I thought you were good at these things," I complained, the pain already ebbing with his gentle caressing touch.

"Oh, I'm very good at these things, kid," he laughed, and I felt him pull the strap down again. "This is just a tough one. Why don'tcha bend down a little, help me out," he said, barely concealing the laughter in his voice.

"You don't need me to bend over to fasten my back garter. That will just make it harder!" I argued, bending slightly over the arm of the loveseat anyway. By this time, my agenda was seeming less important.

After waiting for what felt like an eternity, I felt the strap snap back painfully against my bottom again, and this time the mark was soothed by a pair of warm lips. I moaned softly and held completely still, nearly quivering with anticipation. His hands spread my buttocks apart and I bit my lips and whimpered, knowing that he had a close view and smell of how wet my pussy had gotten for him. "Damn... you're right, kid. It's a lot harder, now. Don't know what I was thinking," he said, still staring at my pussy from under the loose skirt of my dress.

"How... h-how much harder is it?" I whispered.

Seconds passed as I held my breath, bent over the arm of the sofa waiting for his response. Then, without a word, he clicked the garter strap into place. "Well... nothing Shannon Tweed and I can't take care of. Kinda late, aren'tcha?" he asked, releasing my bottom and ducking his head back out from under my dress. I glared at him and he just grinned back and gave me a pat on the bottom.

He flopped back down on the bed and began tapping on his phone again, no doubt looking up the next Shannon Tweed film classic to appreciate. Frustrated, I snatched up my blonde wig and began fitting it onto myself at the full-length mirror. After tucking away all my naturally black hair, I decided that I made a passable Fleur Delacour and grabbed my pointed hat and purse and turned to leave, only to find the door blocked.

BJ was staring at me like he'd been hit in the head a few too many times, which I enjoyed in a way because my pussy was still aching and unsatisfied thanks to him. "What? What eez eet? I ave to go to zee conference," I said in Fleur's thick French accent.

BJ just stared at me, then swallowed. "You're... blonde..." he said, in a hoarse voice. I refrained from rolling my eyes with superhuman effort. Apparently, a blonde wig was all it took to raise the dead.

I let out a breathy Beauxbatons sigh and leaned against him, evilly ignoring the rock-hard erection pressing against my stomach. "But of course! I am zee leetle French schoolgirl from 'arry Potter zat all zee boys loved. To theenk you could 'ave fucked me over zee sofa just now, but no! Quel dommage! Enjoy Madame Tweed, monsieur! Perhaps I find zee Bill Weasley to fuck my wet pussy at zee conference instead, oui? Au revoir!" I gave him a sighing curtsy and swept past him, leaving him to his 90's soft-core porn.

I half expected him to stop me on my way to the elevator, but I made it there unmolested and punched the down button with more force than necessary. The elevator was empty when it arrived at the 14th floor and as I got on, I noticed that instead of carpet, the floor appeared to be strangely tiled with what looked like flagstones. I jabbed the button for the mezzanine and leaned into the corner at the back of the lift.

The lift stopped at the 13th floor and a group of people got on wearing Hogwarts robes and smiled at me, cooing over my costume. At the 10th floor, a tall, robed man with long greasy black hair got on and glared at the Hogwarts people, who immediately ceased talking.

On the 7th floor, I got a shock when my thesis advisor got on, an impossibly tall woman who hated her height, but tried to make up made up for it by being more graceful, elegant and charming than anyone I'd ever known. I straightened and smiled at her, "Professor Maxime, I didn't know you were coming to CONvergence!"

"But, of course, I have come! USC and AFI have also sent their best students to compete in zee Tri-Film School Costume Tournament, as well! I 'ope you 'ave prepared more zan your school uniform to represent Columbia Universite, Madamoiselle Delacour. Zee 'onor of zee school is on your shoulders... and you cannot rely upon your grandmuzzer's gifts for everything, no?"

"Oui, Madame," I said blinking, both shamed and confused. I hadn't realized I would be representing Columbia at the costume tournament... or that I was entered in it. I was just here to gather footage for my film thesis... wasn't I? Sure, I had benefitted from my grandmother's fame as a bombshell of the silver screen back in the day, but I had great grades and I'd won some film competitions before I applied to college. Surely, I had gotten into the school on more than just my actress grandmother's residual glory. I sighed and leaned back dejectedly against the stone walls of the elevator, glancing up at the flickering torch lighting it. I couldn't figure why they used torchlight in the elevators... besides being a fire hazard, it got so smoky in the cramped space. Plus, the suit of armor standing guard in the corner was just a ridiculous waste of space.

On the 8th floor, my jaw dropped. The man waiting there had more erotic coolness radiating from him than the lovechild of Prince and Lenny Kravitz. He was staring down at the floor as the doors opened, and then his eyes lifted straight to mine, as if he knew I would be there. He had long-ish red hair, a fang earring dangling from his ear, and wore the tight dragonskin clothes of a curse-breaker. Glancing at his ID badge, I saw his name listed as "Bill W."

Without letting his eyes leave mine, Bill stepped onto the elevator and, defying all social rules, he stood with his back to the doors facing everyone else looking forward. Well, really, he was facing me. Just me. There might have been a couple Hogwarts people between where he stood near the doors and where I was in the back corner, but for all I knew, we were completely alone. I flushed and looked down, occasionally glancing up to reassure myself that he still hadn't looked away from me.

By the time we reached the 6th floor, I was nearly panting under Bill's stare. A dew of sweat had developed under the hair at the back of my neck. When the doors opened, the most enormous man I'd ever seen was waiting outside. His wild bushy brown hair blended into his equally wild beard that covered his chest down to his round belly, almost giving him the appearance of a bear wearing a lion's mane. The occupants of the elevator grumbled and the man looked apologetically bashful and began to mumble about waiting for the next lift.

"No, you'll fit," said Bill over his shoulder, stepping toward me to make room, now facing me directly and blocking me into the corner.

"Oh, well, if you're sure! Scuse me! Pardon... oops, sorry bout tha..." said the giant bear-man gingerly stepping inside, pressing everyone else closer together. The huge bear-man's back formed a wall behind Bill and me, effectively shielding us from the view of everyone else in the lift. My eyelids fluttered nervously as I glanced up into Bill's eyes, now so close to mine, a small smile curling the corner of his lips.

The lift doors closed and with an alarming groan, it slowly began descending again. Without a word, without moving his eyes from mine, Bill leaned down and covered my lips with his. He reached under my dress and ran his fingers through my dripping slit and smiled against my mouth. I whimpered softly when he took his hand away, but gasped when I realized he was unsnapping the front of his pants. His cock sprang out, hot and hard.

Leaning down, he hooked his hands under my legs and lifted me up, pressing me into the corner with my legs wrapped around him. His cock probed the length of my slit, sliding back and forth until he found his mark and impaled me on it. A breathy sigh escaped me at the feel of Bill's throbbing flesh inside me, but at the same moment, the huge bear-man had started humming to himself, masking the sound.

Bill wasted no time and began pounding into me hard and fast as I clung to him for dear life, panting into his mouth. Each close stroke rubbed my clit, and I squirmed with the mounting pleasure, but Bill held me so tight I could barely move, trapped between the two stone walls and his churning thrusts. I gave a slight cry as his length grew and tapped against my cervix with every stroke, bringing me to a peak over which I had no control. I closed my eyes and leaned my forehead on his shoulder, feeling my climax rushing toward me, but Bill growled and took my face in his hands and lifted it to his. "Look at me when you come on my cock... I want to see your eyes when I breed you," he ground out, his fast rhythm breaking into wild strokes that slammed up into me again and again and again until my entire body began shaking as it clamped down hard onto his cock, squeezing and milking it for every spurt of hot cum it offered.

Grinning and breathing hard, Bill pulled out of me and I slid weakly back down until my feet touched the floor. With a final exuberant kiss, he tucked himself back into his pants and turned around to face the elevator doors as if nothing had happened. My legs couldn't hold me up anymore and I leaned back against the wall for support. The bear-man was now loudly telling people in the lift about the argyle vest he was knitting for a friend's minotaur. Apparently, aside from eating people, they were terribly misunderstood creatures, minotaurs...

I leaned back against the wall, closed my eyes, and breathed until I didn't feel like fainting anymore. When I opened them, I found myself staring at what looked like an enormous pile of driftwood reaching from the ceiling down to the carpeted elevator floor. Confused, I reached out and touched it and it turned around and looked down at me, a sweet and earnest face painted near the top. "What the...?" I whispered.

"I am Groot!" rumbled the pile of wood, as the elevator dinged at the Mezzanine and the doors slid open.

"But... how?" I mumbled, still feeling residual tingles from my orgasm and a trickle of cum beginning to run down my inner thigh.

"Pool noodles!" said a muffled human voice coming out of the Groot costume, letting me pass before it carefully clomped out of the elevator after me, "I cut them up, and then I poured boiling water over them in the tub to get the shape and then painted them to look like driftwood. Like it?"

"Uh... yeah, it's amazing!" I said, giving myself a mental shake. "Hey, would you mind doing a quick interview with me for a film project I'm doing? I've got a lot of footage of people who sewed clothes and stuff, but this is really something else," I said after collecting myself.

"Sure, if it's quick... I gotta get over to House of Toast for my shift soon," Pool Noodle Groot said, leaning down and giving a peace sign near a young man who was surreptitiously trying to take a selfie with him.

At lunch, I went back to the room to change to see BJ watching Pay Per View with empty room service dishes all around him on the bed. "You ate already? You could have waited for me..." I said, taking a cold french fry off one of the plates.

"I thought you'd be eating at House of Toast with the tree guy. Besides, I've got a packed schedule. There are 60 of these things to get through, babe," BJ said, unbuttoning his pants as Shannon Tweed furthered the plot of Night Eyes 3 by arching her back.

"That, and cruising the Harry Potter wiki fandom, apparently," I said, pulling off my Beauxbatons uniform and pulling a blue-green and black jumpsuit out of my suitcase.

"Hmm?" he mumbled, only half-paying attention. "Oh, um... yeah. Didja like it?" he asked, distractedly.

"Well... yeah, actually. Felt like I really was her. Always wanted to do it in an elevator... and the Hagrid was spot on, too," I said, pulling the jumpsuit on and tugging at it until it settled into the right places.

"What the hell is that?" he asked, looking aghast at my clingy yet unflattering costume.

"My Starfleet uniform!" I announced, "and I guarantee you won't be able to get me any action in this thing. She was the sexiest one on the ship and the closest she ever got to getting laid, besides doing it with a parasitic worm inside her co-worker, was masturbating with a ghost that lived in a candle. The 90's didn't really know how to have a woman be respected and have a sex drive at the same time, not that it's much better now," I muttered. I took out a new wig and fitted it onto my head, while BJ craned his neck to see me.

"So, who was she?" he asked.

"Uh uh, not telling," I said shaking my head, my now long red hair spreading across my shoulders. "I made it too easy for you last time, giving you Fleur and Bill's names. You wanna bang the redhead, you gotta geek out a little first," I said, winking at him with a lift of my chin.

"Eh, whatever... you're good for a while, and I'm not sure how I'd get into that thing anyway. Looks like you'd need a can opener to fuck somebody," he said, turning back to the TV.

Smiling wanly, I tried not to let my disappointment show as I leaned over the bed and pecked his cheek. BJ kissed back, but didn't turn his head, only kissing the air toward the TV. A guy that was forced to keep fucking the same woman every six hours had the right to get sick of her, I reasoned sadly. He made a noise of disgust as I pulled on my equally unflattering blue-green duster jacket, "Just keeps getting' better and better, doesn't it..." he grumbled.

I sighed as I went down the hallway toward the elevators, trying to imitate the confident and impossibly leggy walk of Gates McFadden to boost my spirits, but it didn't work very well. I had thought the conference would be a nice way for BJ and me to have some fun together, to make some shared memories outside of obligatory sex. He had seemed excited about it entering the hotel on the first day, seeing the banners and signs directing people to the theme parties in various rooms, especially taking to the CONvergence theme phrase "Where science fiction and reality meet!"

I checked us in and he pulled all my luggage through the crowds of costumed people to the elevators. The doors slid open and a buxom woman in a French maid outfit in stiletto heels walked out, pausing to brush off his face with her feather duster before she slinked away. I laughed, knowing that a lot of people just took cosplay as an opportunity to let their freak flag fly, but when I looked at BJ, he had gone a sickly white. I was about to ask him what was wrong, when he looked around and pulled a COSTUMES ARE NOT CONSENT sign off the wall of the elevator, "What are all these supposed to mean?" he asked, handing it to me while he watched the French maid as the doors slid shut.

"Oh, you know... some people start to act different when they see someone in a costume. They can't separate the character from the person inside. Sometimes wearing a costume has the same effect on people... like because they're dressed like Deadpool, it's suddenly okay to grab a stranger's butt," I explained. "The conference leaders just want people to remember to treat each other with respect, and to let people know that they are ready to help out if someone is harassing them. That's all. Consent's important, you know?" BJ grunted, crumpled up the sign, and with a sideways look at me rolled my suitcases toward the elevator. After that, he lost interest in the conference entirely and I couldn't get him to even leave the room, except for a promise to attend the Tim Burton Monster Mash Ball with me that evening.