A Tale Of Two Parties

Copyright PennameWombat October 2019

The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

This is my entry for the Literotica '

Halloween Contest, 2019

'. Halloween is of course October 31 and while the modern day holiday gaiety has its origin in the US many other countries have (often begrudgingly) adopted it.

This is a stand-alone story although that doesn't mean it has absolutely no relationship to any of my other stories. It's an origin story along with the Halloween hijinks but it's up to you, my faithful readers, to discern more on that.

This story portrays scenes of violence and death that some readers might find uncomfortable.

Tags: Action Adventure, College, Drugs, First Meeting, Halloween, Huge Cock, Mind Control, Older woman, Teacher, Violence

*****

The Black Cat

"Hey, Dave," Jeanie's voice projected upward directly at his ear, she faced the opposite direction as she stood on his left side with Roger on her other side, "check out the hot brunette just walked in."

He lifted a can of beer from the ice chest and pushed the lid down then turned to face the entrance across the large careworn wooden dining table and the entryway to the front door.

"Oh, hey, Jeanie," Dave said, "who the hell is that?"

The woman was tall, five six or more likely five seven, and that would be without what were at least five inch spike heels on her knee-high black boots. She was thin, without broad hips but large breasts. She wore a skin-tight black suit that was latex or leather, Dave couldn't tell from the distance, but it was high necked and long sleeved and she wore black gloves. The dozen or so other people on this level of the old house had also turned and conversations had dimmed. Only the woman's mouth and chin were visible, her lips deep red, the rest of her face obscured by a mask as black as the rest that covered her face and head and ended in two peaked, vertical ears. Her eyes were dark and revealed little.

She took a few steps and appeared to minimally acknowledge a few folks, who mostly went back to prior conversations or simply followed her with the eyes. She looked up the stairwell to her right, Dave's left, continued what looked to Dave like an inspection. She veered toward to her left, looked the opposite way into the open door of the bedroom, Dave knew a few people were in there but mostly to use the bed for additional seating.

For now at least.

The cat woman neared, looked into the kitchen where voices went silent. She turned, looked at Roger, Jeanie and Dave.

"I'm Dave, plenty of beer here, and other stuff, this is Roger and Jeanie," Dave said as the trio shifted away to allow access to the ice chests and the large wooden dining table arrayed bowls of potato and corn chips, every cheap dip known, a couple of large platters of sliced veggies and well-picked-over platters of sliced deli meats.

"Cat," the woman said matter of factly, nodded. She walked into the kitchen and Dave nudged past Jeanie and Roger to reach the passage to the kitchen.

He didn't see her, heard what might've been a door closing out of sight. The only other way out was down a half-flight of stairs to a landing then another half-flight into the basement. Or directly out the back door from the landing. He felt his body deflate slightly and heard light laughter from Roger and Jeanie. The level of conversation in the large combined rooms had picked up again with the black spectre's disappearance and a few additional costumed arrivals had enlarged the crowd..

Then Jeanie and Roger's eyes went back to the front door, Dave turned. Oh. Peter. Finally. Dave followed as Roger and Jeanie led the way to meet him in the open entry foyer that separated the dining area from the front porch.

"Where's your succubus? Carole, right?" Jeanie asked as she gave Peter a quick hug, her tall red cap rubbed against the side of his head and he returned the gesture with his right arm and held a twelve-pack of beer in his left hand.

"Yeah," Roger and Peter shook hands, "thought we'd get to meet her?"

"Don't know, don't care," Peter said with a level of vehemence that startled the couple and even Dave who trailed a few steps, "not planning to see her again."

"Oh," Jeanie moved forward and hugged him again, spoke softly, "sorry to hear. She not giving up the goods?"

She leaned her head back with a toothy grin, Peter's mordant smile confirmed.

"Well, hey," Roger said as his girlfriend loosened her grip, "you should've just seen the cat woman that came through. She'd have cured your ills. If you could've gotten Dave out of the way."

"Saw her first," Dave said as his and Peter's eyes crackled at each other, "I'm betting she's more into us WW Two folks, you're looking a bit, uh, vintage."

"Does it really count as a costume if I wear this getup to classes?" Peter's question, his Great War quilted and lined leather jacket over his anachronistic camo pants, an element shared with Dave. He had an antique white silk aviator's scarf around his neck and perched on his forehead a pair of WWI-era goggles with a leather strap and round metal frames that held clear glass lenses.

"I don't know, Dave," Roger said as the four stood in a small circle, "I think your goggles are kind of boring, I mean, just square. Peter's are funkier. Although the fur on your jacket's a bit wilder. In any case, there's a chick over there dressed up as Bonnie, with the whole Twenties getup. Maybe you two could, you know, average it out with her."

His three companions shifted to try and not be obvious, saw the dark red cloche over light brown hair that fell loosely around her shoulders and upper back. She wore a Bonnie Parker mask and a red dress that was to any of their eyes an excellent match to any Roaring Twenties dresses they'd seen in movies or documentaries, red tights and brown over the ankle boots with buckles.

"That's one of the nicer costumes here," Jeanie said, "she looks really good in it."

Her slender figure fit well with the period costume and made clear she'd put more effort into the costume than most of the attendees and their slapdash efforts.

"You and Roger make a nice pair," Peter said, "our model airline pilot and stewardess."

"I'm not sure how I'd sleep," Dave said, "seeing more than one of you in those bright red dresses, Jeanie. And those hats and those white gloves!"

"Remember, this was the 'coffee, tea or me' days," Jeanie sniffed, "guess they wanted to make us easy to find."

Dave thought Peter's mood had brightened over the course of the conversation and the four chuckled at Jeanie's comment.

"Anyway," Peter said as his voice brightened and he hefted the twelve-pack, "I need cold alcohol and to dump these on ice. Then where are the hot babes in hooker costumes?"

More Arrivals

The quartet had made it for their turn in the kitchen in a slowly rotating cycle of the attendees across the various rooms and the front porch. One of the four housemates who hosted the party had led some braver folks into the back yard's chilled darkness to build a fire in a large and shallow metal fire pit welded to short lengths of pipe for legs. Outside of the kitchen the large open ground floor area practically shook with the combined volume of over two dozen costumed revellers talking a bit too loudly and laughing more boisterously than would usually be proper.

"Hey, Peter," Dave chided him as the one woman amongst the four drank a quarter of a glass of water in one swallow, "Jeanie's got the idea, she's alternating with plenty of water."

"This stuff is fucking near water," Peter said just before he chugged a deep swallow of his beer, "so whatever. It's Friday night and I didn't drive and have nothing to get up for tomorrow. So I'm drinking until I can't feel feelings anymore. And the lack of hot babes in sexy nurses or sexy teachers or sexy sex fiend costumes is depressing."

"I remember reading the real Bonnie Parker liked a roll in the sheets," Roger said with a wink to Jeanie, "maybe that one out there is the same. She was headed into the bedroom over there last I saw."

His chin rose to point over Peter's left shoulder at the bedroom door off of the dining area..

"He already tried," Dave said, "shot down like the brave Great War aviator he is!"

Peter snorted, looked into his beer can and took a more considered sip as the other three raised their beverages to him and drank. Then a sudden change out near the front door caused his head to pop up, his eyes squinted slightly. The other three followed suit.

"Wha?" Peter's rhetorical question.

The room outside had gone utterly silent, Peter half turned and saw three fellow partygoers around the dining table with their eyes glued toward the front door. Peter met the eyes of his companions, questions. He saw Dave's lips make what he took as a silent 'cat...' He turned slightly more and stepped out of the kitchn to look toward the front door.

"Sheeit," he said just loudly enough for the kitchen trio that had edged toward him to hear, "your cat woman is back. With friends. Oh. Fuck. She is..."

Dave pushed past Roger and Jeanie to get through the opening.

"That's your cat, gotta be," Peter said, "but her friends, who the hell?"

"Dead ringers from that movie, those two," Dave said, "but wha..."

An opening had formed to allow the new arrivals in. One was indeed the cat woman, Cat, from before, her costume the same and her mouth a beautiful red but in a tight barely there smile. The man and the woman, both near to six feet tall, in cheap looking black suit pants and jacket with white shirts and skinny black ties, black shoes with a sliver of white socks showed below the pants legs. Both were broadly and solidly built, the pale skin of the faces and hands the only flesh that showed. Their eyes were hidden by opaque black-rimmed sunglasses and they wore black fedoras that covered short dark brown hair They seemed to scan the crowd.

"Fuck them," Peter said, "who... what... is she? Is that a sari?"

"Mostly...," Jeanies voice was hesitant, her head poked out of the kitchen, "but not like any I've seen before."

The fourth member of Cat's party was a woman, tall, maybe close to six feet in her heeled boots. She had a deep violet garment that wrapped around her neck like a scarf then was wrapped around her chest in a way that clung to her breasts, the bulge of nipples obvious in the center of each bulge. It left her flat stomach exposed as the cloth was bundled to run down her right abdomen and then it wrapped around her waist and opened up as if it were a skirt and flowed to a stop midway down her calves. Like Cat she had high, spike-heeled black boots that covered her calves, her legs apparently bare above that as the drapes of her garment allowed views as she walked.

"Forget the clothing," Dave said, "her face... That's makeup like... That's pro."

Her hair was reddish blonde and parted along her left side, to mainly fall just past her right eye and loosely past her shoulders. It left exposed the entire left side of her face which was a deep red that surrounded her left eye and down her nose to her very thin lips, then along her jawline to include that side of her neck. Her ear, like a stereotypical elf's ear, was pale, like the rest of her skin, surrounded by red.

"That port wine stain is real," Peter said, "couple of classmates had them, that's not makeup. But those eyes. That's incredible makeup."

Her eyes showed no whites, her left eye was an almost iridescent green and from where they stood her right eye was as pale as the skin that surrounded it. Her nose was squarish.

"Her nose... like a cat's," Peter said softly, "appropriate, with the company she's in."

Peter glanced around, the silence palpable that everyone's total attention was on the newcomers. Pirates, a coven of witches, superhero masks and capes, faces with smatterings of makeup all stood silent.

"Oh, fuck it, Dave, hold this," Peter said almost under his breath as he handed his almost empty beer to his friend. He stepped quickly to an ice chest and threw it open, pulled out four beers and held three between his left forearm and his torso, carried the other in his right hand. He walked quickly to the group, saw the besuited pair tense and Cat's posture go guarded. But his target's eyes twinkled, caught his, when he realised her right eye was a slate grey color and her pupils were slits. Like her nose, they reminded him of the cats his mother always had around. There were crinkled lines around her eyes and her jawline that made Peter think she was older, maybe much older than the pack of university students in attendance.

"Welcome," he said as he stopped in front of the real 'cat' woman, "I'm Peter. Can I offer you refreshment?"

He held out a can. He watched her pale left arm rise, muscle tone clear, she had what he took to be one of those new, expensive LED watches on her wrist as it showed no face, just flat black. What appeared to be a very pale paisley-like design under her skin. How the hell is she doing THAT? Close up he knew his guess at her height had been near perfect. He was a shade over six feet in socks and right now his thick-soled punk boots added a bit to that but close up with the help of her incredible heels this strange, exquisitely-costumed woman's eyes were all but even with his.

"I'm Anna," the voice was heavily accented, "thank you, Paetor."

She took the beer as his eyes locked back on hers, she popped the tab and took a long slow, sip, kept her eyes on his.

"Interesshting beverage," she said.

"But my gwuard detail, not allowed, and Cat is our draiver," she laughed as she quickly tilted her head to one then the other, their already thin smiles went even tighter, "for you."

Peter turned, saw Dave approach, shrugged and kept one beer, handed one to his friend and turned, caught a random eye in a crowd and tossed the last beer to a waiting hand.

"I'm Dave, we've met," he said to Cat, whose lips twitched in acknowledgement, "welcome back."

"This is Anna," Peter said, the woman's thin lips parted in a friendly smile, her teeth white, "and her guards, I guess we're calling them Laurel and Hardy."

Anna's soft laugh seemed to approve his meant as a joke introduction although the butts of the joke seemed oblivious. Peter opened his quickly.

"Have those two," Peter asked Anna as he tilted his beer at first one guard then the other as they stood just behind Anna, "had their senses of humour removed?"

"We braeed it out of them, edit the gaenes," Anna said, winked that terribly green eye, made a slight movement and Peter smiled and tapped his beer can to hers and they both drank.

"Come, Paetor, show ussh around," Anna did a half sweep of her arm, "show I can compare to my past uni dayssh!"

"Not our place," Peter said with a laugh as he tapped Dave's shoulder and the two then half turned, "but we play D&D here regularly. Know it well. It's a dump."

Anna laughed as she and then her silent retinue followed him and Dave. Peter noticed that conversations slowly picked up but most eyes followed them as they walked. He also noticed Cat and the two guards had similar black watches to Anna's.

Caught in the Act

"Up there?" Anna nodded to the stairs.

"Bedrooms, bathroom," Peter said, "wanna go up?"

Anna nodded and led the way. Peter watched her long, apparently well-toned legs as the garment bounced against them, exposed flesh nearly to the tops of her thighs. The skin seemed to have that same paisley design embossed below the skin. As he followed her up the stairs her stride was smooth but unnatural, her hips and knees seemed flexible in more directions than should be the case. She turned left at the top of the stairs and turned left again. Stopped. Peter caught up to her and stood alongside, the rest trapped on the landing at the top of the stairs. To their right was the open door to a large bathroom. Behind them a closed door.

"Privaete party," Anna said in a low voice. Through an open bedroom door they saw a pair of men's feet with white socks on the ends of bare legs. A woman's bare hips rose and lowered herself onto his erect prick, her back was half-covered by loose brown hair and she leaned forward slightly. It appeared he kneaded her tits as they fucked. Anna looked at Peter and put her index finger to her lips as she stepped forward. He was impressed by her ability to walk silently in her spiked heel boots.

They made it to the door, stood silently for a few moments before the man opened his eyes and looked past his lover. His mouth and eyes gaped open and a startled 'uhhh umm' came out. His lover hit bottom stopped, turned.

"Shit," the naked woman said as she jumped sideways off of her prone paramour, tried to grab the sheet to cover her crotch and torso as the man half-rolled to hide his rapidly deflating erection.

"Sshorry, didn't maean to shtartle you," they goggled at Anna's accent and what they had to take as an exotic costume, "plaeash continue. We liked watching you."

Peter watched their expressions work through anger, shame, finally settle into what he took was confused shock as they covered up. He knew the four guys who lived in this weatherbeaten old house, like him and his friends and pretty well everyone else at the party they were all students here at the Uni, but this dude wasn't one of them. He wondered briefly about that but it wasn't his bed being used.

"C'mon, Anna," Peter touched her left arm, it didn't move away, her skin was smooth, seemed warm despite the chill air of the night, "let's leave them be. If you want personal experience..."

She smiled and nodded at the confused couple, turned to draw Peter the long way so he didn't have to release her arm.

"I might hold you to that," she said as her green eye bore into him before she turned and looked at Cat who stood next to Dave and the guards who seemed to look everywhere but at their apparent boss, "back down wae go."

Near the stairs Peter released Anna's right arm but she twined that arm around his left and slid it down to hold his hand. The warmth of her flesh on his palm was palpable and it took every bit of his self-control to not jump. The stairs were just wide enough to allow them to hold their positions as they descended, followed by Cat then Dave and the ever-dour 'guard' pair.

"This is as trite a statement as there is," Peter said about halfway down, "but you're not from around here, right? Gonna tell me where you're from?"

Anna's laughter had an odd timbre to it but the amusement seemed clear.

"Nowhere close to here, Paetor, but not out of sight," she said as they hit the bottom of the stairs to again silence most conversations and draw eyes from the two score costumed attendees, "I am visiting Cat, my naiece and I asked if shae knew of a party."

"Back this way is a boring bedroom," Peter turned them tightly to his right, the half dozen people sitting on the bed or standing next to it gaped at the pair when they appeared in the doorway.

"You are a vary praetty girl," Anna said to the girl dressed as Bonnie Parker who sat in a desk chair and had been talking with the handful of other folks in the room, "nice costume. Wait for your Clyde, do you?"

The brown eyes behind the mask blinked rapidly and Bonnie's mouth worked but didn't find words.

"Not living up to sshtudent reputashions," Anna said as she looked at Bonnie's seated and standing companions, all quietly drinking beers and a couple of sodas, and Peter laughed.