Devil Woman 1

This

"Karaoke 2023" Author Challenge

song is "Devil Woman" from the EMI (UK)/Rocket (US) album

I'm Nearly Famous

recorded by Cliff Richard, written by Terry Britten and Christine Authors. It was released on April 23, 1976. It reached #6 on Billboard's Hot 100 weekly chart, #9 in the UK, and #3 in Australia.

This is also my Halloween 2023 contest entry.

This represents my first attempt at writing erotic horror and mind control, please be gentle.

Many thanks to Altissmus for hosting this Karaoke challenge and Rustyoznail for handling the Halloween 2023 contest.

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***** October 31, 1297 *****

Samara laughed to herself as Richard and Emma sipped the broth she had offered them as a token of her forgiveness. She knew it wouldn't take long for the poison to start making its way into their system, exacting the revenge she had planned for so long. Emma realized it first, the painful knot in her stomach doubling her over. Richard, whose size afforded him a little more time before the poison started affecting him, lunged toward Samara, eyes filled with rage and his hands aimed for her throat.

It wasn't until his hands were firmly around her neck and squeezing that Samara realized that she had underestimated the amount necessary to kill them quickly. Trying to squirm away from Richard, they slammed into the side table holding the candle lighting the small room. Emma slid from her chair and toppled to the ground, curled into a ball as she fought for breath. As Richard slowly choked the life from Samara, the poison causing his muscles to freeze his hands around her throat, Emma's last voluntary movement was to kick the candle against the thatch wall of the hut.

The rains had not been hard lately so the inside walls of the hut were still dry. The straw caught fire quickly and spread laterally, soon engulfing the entire room. Samara recited her curse quickly, croaking out the noises as Richard's hands continued their deadly grip. Emma, seeing the light fading from Samara's eyes, quickly chanted her own curse. As the darkness started to envelope her vision, she could see Samara's eyes widen in fright as she realized what Emma had done. She shifted her gaze to her husband, who stared back at her as the light also faded from his eyes, hands still wrapped around the now lifeless Samara's throat. They died together on the earthen floor as the flames raged around them, each other's face being the last thing they saw before the darkness came.

***** October 30, 2020 *****

Tabitha the cat was hanging around out front again when I got home. She belonged to our best friend, Samantha Glazier, who lived next door to us. For the past couple of weeks, she had taken up residence on our front porch, leaving only to go home to eat and wherever it was she went to do her business. She let me scratch her ears and a little under her chin while she purred. She was average size for a cat, her black fur was shiny and soft, and she was definitely well fed between Sam and Emmy. When she had had enough attention, she stalked off to curl up on the porch swing cushion, her golden eyes following my every move.

Thank God it was Friday. The last two weeks had been hellish, where if it wasn't work, it was the car, or the water heater, or traffic problems. Emmy sprained her ankle tripping over Tabitha on her way to work. The little shit almost caused me to fall down the front stairs later the same day. Today really hadn't been any different, luck wise. Murphy's Law was working overtime and I had been paying the price. About the only thing that hadn't happened was one of us coming down with COVID. While it had been running rampant across the country, our little corner of Vicksburg had been relatively unscathed.

Traffic had sucked balls, just like it had every day for the last two weeks because of construction. I wanted to get home to change so we could finish building our contribution to the town haunted house for Halloween this year. They had reopened a lot of business and events in Vicksburg, as long as they followed certain capacity limits, and everybody felt that having a Halloween event for the kids would be a good relief valve after all the quarantine time. At the suggestion of Sam, we had gone with a fortuneteller theme, building a replica of a little shop, complete with an antique crystal ball. Neither me or Emmy were really thrilled with the idea but Sam had been so enthusiastic that we surrendered to her will. It took longer than we had thought, so tonight was going to be about finishing the painting and then we would assemble and arrange everything tomorrow morning.

I unlocked the front door and promptly tripped over the threshold as I went in, almost falling to my hands and knees. I still had an uneasy feeling about the whole fortuneteller thing but that promptly disappeared as soon as I saw Emmy.

Emmy was Emmaline Thompson Barker, my wife of 20 years. She was just as beautiful, if not more so, than the day we got married. Which happened to be 20 years ago today, October 30, 2000, the day of our 26th birthdays. In what had to be one of the strangest set of coincidences, we were born on the same date at the exact same time, 7:19 p.m. What makes it really strange is that our best friend Sam was also born on October 30, 1974 at 7:19 p.m. All three of us were born at the same hospital. We grew up as friends and classmates, practically inseparable.

Emmy was just putting the finishing touches on dinner when I stumbled into the house, almost knocking the side table over in the process. I caught the battery powered jack-o-lantern before it hit the floor to ceiling hall mirror. That mirror was Emmy's favorite thing about this house. We assumed it had been installed during construction, meaning it was well over 100 years old.

"Hi, Rick. Dinner's almost ready so you have time to change if you want to before we go." She didn't even turn around. It would have been kind of hard with the crutches anyway, as she was balanced on them under her armpits as she worked.

"Good idea, babe. I'll probably ruin these if I don't." Friday was casual day at work but I liked these pants, so I was going to change them before leaving anyways. I walked up behind her and gave her a hug, causing her to drop the salt shaker, which bounced off the counter, hit the floor and rolled under the dining room table. She absentmindedly took a pinch of the spilled salt from where it hit the counter and tossed it over her left shoulder, hitting me square in the eyes.

"Fuck!" It stung something fierce and that slipped out involuntarily. I tried not to rub my eyes as I groped my way to the sink to rinse them out.

"Oh, shit, baby, I'm so sorry," she tried to turn to help me, got her leg tangled in her crutch and lost her balance, hitting the handle of the saucepan and sending it and its contents flying off the stove and onto the floor.

"Sonofabitch!", we swore in unison. There went dinner. We really didn't have time to make anything else before we needed to be at the haunted house.

I got the salt out of my eyes after a few minutes of running cold water over them. Fortunately, it wasn't a lot of salt and my vision seemed normal, so we didn't need to go to the emergency room. Emmy was almost in tears.

"I'm sorry, Rick. I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking, I just did that out of habit and never thought about you standing there." Tears were still brimming in her eyes and she was sniffling. I found it oddly amusing, actually. I kissed her solidly and gave her a good hug. I knew it wasn't intentional, just the way things had been going lately. No harm, no foul as the saying goes.

"It's okay, honey. No damage. You didn't get burned by the pan or anything, did you?"

"No, but you're not getting dinner after all. So I guess we might as well get changed and get over there. Maybe we can stop and get something on the way back?" We cleaned up the mess we had made, bumping heads twice in the process. I did manage to steal a kiss and a grope, so it wasn't all bad.

We managed to get to the bedroom without breaking anything or getting hurt. Emmy changed into yoga pants and a t-shirt. Even at 46, she was still hot and her ass filled out the yoga pants perfectly. The only downside was she was wearing a bra under the t-shirt. She had fantastic breasts that somehow had avoided the effects of age and gravity. She looked much younger than her age, the only clues being a few stray gray hairs and the crow's feet around her eyes. She rolled her eyes when she realized that I hadn't changed yet, I'd spent that time watching her change.

"Jesus, Rick. We need to get going so get changed already." She was still flattered, though, gauging from the smile she was trying to hide.

"This is way more fun. I'm ready to say fuck it and just peel those pants off you and enjoy my birthday and anniversary present." I gave her my best dirty old man leer.

"We promised Sam we would help. Put your eyes and tongue back in your head and let's move it. The sooner we get this done, the sooner I get my present." She jiggled her boobs with her hands as she swayed her hips back and forth. Belatedly realizing that probably wasn't the smartest thing to do in front of an insatiably horny husband, she pranced out the door on her crutches as she laughed her way down the hallway.

I changed into sweats and a t-shirt, hoping my erection would go down by the time we got to the haunted house. Emmy did that to me every damn time. Not that I was ever going to complain about having a hot wife who still liked to fuck after 20 years of marriage. I'd heard most of the horror stories. I considered myself very blessed in that department.

As playful as we had been before we left the house, the car ride to the haunted house was silent. I had this nagging feeling that something wasn't right. Emmy stared out the window on the ride over, gnawing at her lower lip like she does when she's thinking things over. The local rock station was playing Halloween music, much like they did every year for every holiday. I really wasn't in the mood for it tonight, though. I could listen to "Monster Mash" only a certain number of times before it got old. Once was apparently my limit for tonight. I shut the radio off before the song was halfway through.

"Thank you," Emmy muttered under her breath. Apparently, she wasn't in the mood for it, either.

Over the years, I had learned to trust our intuition. Emmy's was always better than mine. I knew she had wanted to go with a different theme but Sam had talked us into this one and it was too late to change now. That didn't mean we had to like it, though. We'd get it over with this year and never have to do it again.

Sam was waiting for us as we pulled into the parking lot, perched on the handrail to stairs leading to the entrance of the building. She was tall, maybe 5'10" and willowy. LIke Emmy, she appeared much younger than her 46 years. Her crow's feet weren't quite as pronounced and her long black hair showed no evidence of gray, but you'd hardly notice if it did, as she had the greenest eyes I'd ever seen. She was also wearing yoga pants and a t-shirt. Half the men in the parking lot were watching her ass as she bounced off the stairs and headed toward the car as I parked. For the record, she had the second best ass I'd ever seen, only Emmy's was better. Her bra was struggling to control the motion of her breasts as she walked over to us.

"Hey, guys. I made some soup, if you want some." Her smile was always dazzling. I never understood how she was still single. She would date occasionally but never seemed to find the right guy. Emmy had tried to set her up but they never lasted more than a couple of dates before they were history. She was one of the sweetest people I knew.

"Thanks, Sam. I ruined dinner so we didn't get a chance to eat before we came." Emmy's laugh was a little forced. She was still working that lower lip over. I rubbed her back as I helped her out of the car and pulled her crutches from the back seat. She gave me a little smile in return. She wasn't happy about something and I could sense it.

"What happened, Emmy?" Sam's concern was evident on her face.

"I surprised her," I explained. I left out the rest of the comedy of errors. My little voice was insistent that we needed to do what we came to do and get home. Besides, I was still horny from being teased earlier. I had plans for Mrs. Rick Barker that involved multiple orgasms, hers and mine, to celebrate our birthdays and 20th anniversary.

"Is Tabitha still haunting your porch? I haven't seen her in a couple of days. She's been eating but never when I'm home." She had Emmy's other arm as we ascended the steps carefully. They were a little narrow, they didn't have the Americans with Disabilities Act back in the late 1800's, and hard to navigate even with two uninjured ankles. I almost busted my ass the other day coming down them.

"She was there when I got home but gone when we left to come here," I told her. The cat came and went whenever she wanted. I was never a fan of letting cats run loose outside but she seemed car smart and stayed out of the road. Fortunately, the street we lived on didn't get much traffic except for residents.

"Okay, at least she's still alive. I try to keep her inside but she always manages to escape." I knew Sam loved that cat and I didn't doubt her word. Hell, cats are cats and they pretty much do what they want, when they want.

We made our way to our section of the haunted house. The walls were already up, the room just needed finishing touches, a coat of paint in places, and then placing the props. Sam collected glass antiques so we had a suitable collection of bottles and stuff. We had some old tapestries that came with the house, so we brought those to hang up on the walls.

We found a tall stool for Emmy to sit on so she could start arranging the bottles on the shelves while Sam and I painted the walls. We'd let the paint dry and then hang the tapestries in the morning. After getting two of the walls painted, we took a break to get something to eat. Keeping busy had kept my little voice at bay but it was evident that Emmy's was working overtime. She was unusually antsy, almost dropping something several times.

Just as we were getting ready to start serving ourselves the soup, an announcement came over the loudspeaker that the sponsor of the haunted house had sprung for pizza and it had arrived. We opted for the pizza. While we ate, we toured the remainder of the house. Most of the sections were at the same stage of completion that ours was. We had a dry run scheduled for three tomorrow afternoon and I was pretty sure everybody would be ready. Sam was oddly quiet, being noncommittal when Emmy asked her opinion. I still had that nagging feeling and Emmy was still chewing her lower lip, but I tried to ignore it and get back to finishing up so I could take her home and fuck our brains out.

The paint was tacky on the first two walls we had painted, so we moved the shelving units over and Emmy continued arranging items on them. We worked on the remaining walls, finishing up in about an hour and a half. We carefully moved the shelves over in front of the walls so Emmy could do her thing while we brought in the table and chairs to use for the center of the room. It was close to ten by then, and almost everybody had finished up. There were a couple of groups still testing out their mechanicals, doing some touch up painting and stuff. I took a short walk to clear my head from the paint fumes. I had developed a headache that was promising to get worse if I didn't get some fresh air.

Sam scared the shit out of me when she put her hand on my shoulder. I didn't hear her come up behind me. "We should be done in about an hour. I'm sure y'all want to get home and celebrate. I know I forgot to say it earlier and I'm sorry but Happy Anniversary." She gave me a hug and kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks, Sam," I gave her a hug back. It felt like she held on a little longer than she normally did.

"Oh, there's something else I want you to try before you leave. I was thinking of maybe offering a 'potion' for the visitors, since we're doing the whole fortuneteller thing. I'd like y'all's opinion on it to see if it's any good."

"As long as it's alcohol free, I'll taste test it. Not interested in tangling with Vicksburg PD tonight."

Sam nodded, "It is alcohol free, promise."

"Then we have a deal, I'll try it and give you an honest opinion. I'm pretty sure it's going to be all right." We headed back to our little corner of the haunted house to finish up. Emmy was almost done getting things arranged. We pulled out the green tablecloth for the table and Sam produced this ancient looking crystal ball from a bag. I heard the last group leave, wishing us a good night.

I noticed that Emmy was starting to get restless and her lip biting had gotten more pronounced. My headache was really rolling along now and I was starting to feel physically sick and slightly disoriented, which I blamed on the paint fumes. Sam looked distant, like she had something else on her mind as she positioned the crystal ball and base on the table.

"I think it's about time I got Emmy home, Sam. I think her ankle is beginning to bother her." It was a white lie, she'd been sitting almost the entire time we'd been there. She was definitely uncomfortable with something and I trusted her intuition. Plus, I wanted to get laid and get away from the paint fumes before it fucked up my driving.

"Okay, that's probably a good idea. Before you go, please try this and tell me what you think," She brought out a little thermos bottle and some paper cups. She poured three cups and handed Emmy hers first and then mine.

Sam proposed a toast as we sat around the table, "To Rick and Emmy, my best friends, Happy 20th Anniversary, Happy Birthday to all of us and to many, many more of both!" We tapped the lips of our cups together and drank it down.

***** October 31, 2020 *****

I woke up with a splitting headache, the likes of which I had never experienced in my life. This was orders of magnitude worse than the worst hangover. I felt weird, like there was somebody else in my body with me.

"Do not be alarmed." The voice sounded like mine but I didn't say anything out loud. I didn't even think it.

"Huh?" That, I said out loud. Emmy moaned and stirred. Sam groaned loudly as she sat upright.

"I am Richard. Richard Farmer. I am you." The voice was in my head, at least it was calm and measured.

"Yeah, I know I'm Richard. That's my fucking name, except it's Barker, not Farmer." Emmy's eyes were glazed and her face was confused and she was obviously a little scared. Sam's face was stoic.

"I apologize, let me put this another way. You are me, reincarnated. We have a problem."

"Richard?" It sounded like Emmy and it didn't. She sounded English, but not like the fake English accent. A real English accent.

"Emma? Are you okay, dearest?" What the actual fuck? That wasn't what I wanted to say. Why the hell did I sound English, too?

"Yes. She is scared, she does not understand what is happening." Emmy reached out and grabbed my hand. Richard, or whoever the fuck it was in my head, felt happy and relieved all at once.

"He goes by Rick, strange name, and he is angry and confused."

Sam spoke and it definitely did not sound like her at all. "I have waited 46 years for this. I am going to enjoy this to no end."

"There is no need for this, Samara. All of us have suffered enough." Richard was pissed. He hated Samara, that's for sure. Sam just sat there, expressionless.

"Please, Samara. Let us rest in peace. Surely you have exacted your revenge by now. How much more do you require?" Emmy had tears on her cheeks. I tried to lift my hand to wipe them away but my arm didn't work.