Halloween Hell

This work of FICTION contains themes of non-consent, light abuse and other related kinks. This is meant as entertainment to bring enjoyment, not as something that should be carried out. If this offends you, please do not read.

I let out a deep sigh as I stop walking and just stand on this sidewalk. My name is Rebecca, and I'm 18 years old...and I'm bored out of my mind.

Tonight was supposed to be fun and awesome with me hanging with all of my friends. I mean, it's Halloween night after all! We were going to go trick or treating at the houses of every cute guy we know in the neighborhood, maybe pull a few pranks and for sure throw a few eggs at the house of that bitch Marcy for posting those unflattering pics of me at college when I was eating.

Only, one after another, each of my friends canceled. I know it is not their fault as each has a real reason, from being called to work, to having to babysit younger siblings, to having no ride to get here. I know they aren't bailing on me as we had been planning this for weeks, even coordinated out costumes and everything.

Not wanting to stay home and be depressed I decided I would go out for a walk. I know I'm too old to get candy, but I hoped maybe I would see someone I knew or that something would show itself. I'm in college at the moment so all of my friends don't live near me, but that doesn't mean I can't see someone I know. But...I know I won't. I'm the shy type of girl, the one who always studies instead of going to a party. Because of this, I don't have a lot of friends as it's hard for me to make friends.

I resume walking as I see a large crowd coming down the sidewalk. After all, I don't want to add being a weirdo or pervert to the pathetic, lonely girl vibe I must be showing. Excuse me,

nerdy

, pathetic lonely girl because my friends and I were going to dress up as characters from Harry Potter. Currently I'm wearing a green and silver top with black slacks and a black robe to make it look like I belong to Slytherin from Harry Potter. Each of my friends was going to dress from one of the houses.

I keep on walking and go down a street I've never been on as I try to get away from any large groups. This street is also filled with people only there's one thing that catches my eye. The street busy with trick or treaters going door to door, but everyone stops about halfway down the dead-end street. It's as if there's some invisible barrier there, to which everyone crosses the street, completely avoiding the rest of the houses all the way to the "Dead End" sign.

Finally feeling like there is something to do, I walk down the sidewalk to see if I can figure out what is going on. I know this is the nerd in me wanting to figure a mystery out, but it's not like I have anything better to do.

I reach the point where everyone stops and crosses the street but find nothing odd. No invisible barrier, no weird people, not even a bad smell. It's so odd that I actually consider asking someone why they are missing all the candy from the rest of the houses. But I decide against this, as I would be the one to look like a weirdo for asking since I'm all alone.

Letting my curiosity get the better of me, I keep walking down the street, going where no one else goes. It looks like a normal street, the houses are well kept, the yards are mowed and there's no creepy people staring out of windows or anything. Not even weird noises.

Then I see it. It's the last house on the left side of the street. There's a streetlight in front of this house but it's burnt out, so the house has a spooky sort of shadow over it. Since it is almost 8 it's already dark out, making the house look very creepy. And from where I'm at, I can see the yard has tons of...stuff...all over. I'm too far away and it's too dark for me to make out what any of it is, but it's clear the yard has tons of something over it randomly.

The most interesting part about this house is that there appears to be someone sitting in the middle of the yard. There's a figure sitting in what I think is one of those cheap foldable beach chairs. Again, it's pretty far away so I can't tell for sure any of this.

Unable to help it, I begin walking again. I want to see more of that house. I want to see if that is really someone sitting in the middle of the yard. If it is, is it a creepy man that everyone is scared of? Or just a guy wanting to relax after a long day of work? Or maybe...it's a ghost and when I get near, it'll disappear or something. Who knows what it could be.

I walk all the way down to the end of the street so I stand across the street on the sidewalk. Here I can see much better. It's still very dark thanks to the night and barely any light reaching here, but I can make out more. The stuff scattered on the yard appears to be, well, trash. Roughed up boxes, bottles, battered looking broken furniture and more. The way it looks, I think it is done on purpose to make it like Halloween decorations because it does give off a scary vibe. Like the house in a movie where the serial killer would live.

And it's a guy who is sitting in the chair. I can't make him out too well, but from here he looks to be maybe in his forties. His clothes of a t-shirt and blue jeans look worn and make him look as if he works as a laborer or something. Furthermore, he's just sitting there, drinking. Like the yard, he gives off a very spooky vibe, such as if he is a serial killer or lunatic.

A wave of pity suddenly comes over me as I realize something. What if this guy set all this up for trick or treaters, and no one is visiting? I mean, there's no way that his yard looks like this all the time. The HOA or neighbors would complain. So he must have made his yard look nice and spooky and not a single person is coming by. What a shame. Poor guy.

I hold my head up high as I make a choice. If no one else will visit the spooky house, I will. With that determination, I start walking across the street. I don't have a bag or anything, but I can explain that I just wanted to let him know that I like how spooky the place looks. That at least one person visited.

As I reach the other sidewalk, I get a strange feeling. Something within me flares and tells me to stop and walk away. I mean, the closer I get, the creepier the place looks. The random trash begins to look like real trash and not planted decorations as I see several engine parts and tons of beer cans. And there is a small pile of them piled around the guy's chair.

Yet, there's a part of me that counters that warning feeling by firmly telling me to keep going. That I will like what danger I'll experience. It reminds me how I never take risks and that this can be a real Halloween adventure. That it is my chance to actually live a little.

"T-Trick or Treat," I tell the man, my voice coming out soft despite me wanting to say it loud and cute. I've stopped a few feet away to give plenty of room but close enough to show I'm not scared. I mean to start in and say how much I like the decorations, and how spooky the place looks, only I don't. For some reason, my words get stuck in my throat as I find I'm a bit too scared to say anything more.

Fear builds rapidly within me from the way the guy looks at me. Now that I'm up close, I see how rough he looks. There's a scar running over one eye and that he has a very grizzled face. He has a face like he's been in jail and liked it. And the look he gives me, it's so intimidating. It is sort of an annoyed look but also one of disbelief, giving me the sense that I don't think he thought anyone would come here.

"You know you fucked up, right?" The guff man says in the deepest, darkest voice I've ever heard. He says it with barely any emotion too. It's cool and calm but utterly chilling because of it.

"I....I see that now, yes," I find myself squeaking out. My heart begins to pound like blows from a hammer and terror begins to build. Of course, there's no one around to help me. They are all halfway down the street and would never get here in time. And anyway, it's so dark here, I doubt they would even see me if I started to scream. Speaking of that, since it is Halloween, they might think my scream is just a sound effect.

"There's a reason no one comes near my place," the man starts in that deep tone. "Why they keep away and leave me the fuck alone. They know by getting too close, I will fuck them up," he informs me, still in that near emotionless tone, but this time I can hear a hint of pride.

To this, I say and do nothing. I mean, what do you say to do? And I would LOVE to run, but my feet feel like they've been turned to ice. It's like I'm stuck here.

"Well, I got shit to do tonight, so let's hurry this up," the man then states matter of fact like. He crushes the beer can he was drinking and tosses it behind him, then grabs a new can from by his feet.

"Take off all ya clothes," he then orders while opening the beer. Stunned by this, I stare at him, thinking somehow that this is a joke. That he's going to start laughing and say "Happy Halloween" to which I will tell him what a great prank it is. That I'll say how I was very scared and thought he wanted me to really remove my clothes.

"I'm waiting. Ain't got all night," he then says, annoyed. At this, I feel my body getting warm in a way I've never felt before. This warmth is strange because it seems to come from within me and it is a tingling warmth. One that is, well, sexual.

It then occurs to me why. No one has ever told me to remove my clothes. I've had sex before, but it was more of a romantic, removing each other clothes sort of thing. Never did a partner demand I take off all my clothes like this. In some sort of sick and dark way...I really like it.

"O-O-Ok," I stammer, knowing I should turn and start to run. That I could make it to where they are people and he would back off because of the crowd. Only instead, I remove both of my shoes. And then my socks to become barefoot.

Looking at my shoes I ask myself; am I really doing this? Fear like I've never felt before surrounds me, making me feel ice cold, but at the same time, there's that weird heat that is building inside me. That heat seems to scream for me to do as he says. The heat seems to counter every reason I have to get out of this; if I run, he could catch me because he's probably faster. If I scream he would slap me before the scream could come out. Each and every thought has a reason not to do it, except to tell me to strip.

And with that, I let the long black robe fall to the ground. Any chance that this was a prank is removed as the man sits there without saying anything. There's no, 'you're really doing it!' and laughter or anything like that. His expression shows he fully expects me to do it. And judging by his body language, if I don't go fast enough, he might get violent. Makes me wonder how many women had to do this.

"Every fucking piece," he warns. With a very red face, I unbutton my slacks. With a firm tug on the waistbands, I pull my slacks and my panties down to my ankles. When I do, my shaved lady area is fully exposed. It is out for him and him alone to look at. I know it is dark, but it can be seen just fine.

I know it is silly, but I've never got comfortable with saying any of the names that you might call my vagina. Even that word sounds dirty to me, and I could never call it the crude words guys do, like pussy or cunt. The same is true for my breasts. It's just so awkward to have to talk about them.

As I step one foot out of my slacks and panties, I wonder why I jerked my slacks down like that. I mean, I did it forcefully, as if not able to wait for him to see my most private area. I tell myself it is because I'm scared, and that is true, but I know there is another reason. I mean...I'm aroused.

With my slacks and panties removed, I am completely bottomless. I pause for a moment as I think I might either pass out or fall over as the feeling that this is a dream is almost too much to take. I mean...I'm showing my ladyhood...in this guy's yard. He's making me strip, in public, on Halloween night. I mean, what happens if one of the parents or a neighbor comes around to see what's happening? What will they think? What will they do?

The man crushes his now empty beer can which I take to be a warning. So I move my hands to my top and start to lift it up. When I do this, my hands tremble as they show how scared I am. Gulping, I lift my top up and over my head, exposing my black bra now. Much like my womanhood, I've never been big on showing off my breasts. I rather keep them hidden and make sure they don't move, unlike most girls that I know. I've been told, multiple times by friends that they would show their boobs off if they had D's like I do.

"Show those tits girl, then give me that bra," the man says in that calm tone. Nervously, I reach behind me so my hands can find my bra clasp. I notice how he doesn't look at my lady bit, even if it is right in front of him, clear as day. Instead he's looking me in the eyes. Right in the eyes. Not at my cleavage, not between my legs, but at my eyes. Something about this sends warm tingles up my spine.

My bra clasp comes undone and my bra immediately starts to slide as it is a bit small for me as I've grown out of it. I allow it to slide down slowly as if using these few moments to prolong him seeing my bare breasts. And then it is off of my arms and my breasts are fully exposed to this evil, strange man.

Without saying a word, I hold out my bra for him to take as I am completely naked on his front yard. Sure, I'm in shadow, but it doesn't change that I'm naked. NAKED.

I want nothing more than to cover myself with my hands, or maybe to turn away from him, but something tells me if I did that, he would get mad. And if he got mad, who knows what he would do. So, I keep my arms to my sides by imagining there are 100 pounds weights attached to my hands which prevent me from covering myself. The knowledge that he gets to see what precious few men have seen runs through my head now.

"Gather up those rags you were wearing, and put 'em in the trash," he says after grabbing my bra and putting it on his lap. He motions with his head to his left side, and following were he motions, I see a trash can. It's one of those huge trash cans, like you would see at a stadium or something. He has one in his yard for some reason, even with all the trash everywhere.

I stare at the trash for a moment, trying to wrap my head around that he really means for me to throw my clothes away. Another wave of that dream-like fog hits me, making me sway as I think of how outlandish this is. That stuff like this doesn't happen.

But, still in a dream like trance, I squat down and gather up my Harry Potter costume in my hands. I start walking towards the trash and away from him, and each step I take, I don't believe this is happening. That it is really happening. I mean, this can't be real. I have to be dreaming. I can't be naked in his yard.

Yet...I feel the cool dew of the grass under my bare feet. I smell the night air, and in the distance, I hear the crowds from the other end of the street. I even feel the way my breasts jiggle with each step I take as they have no bra to hold them.

Approaching the trash, I have to hold my breath as it smells so horrible. I dump my clothes in it, and then quickly walk back just to get away from the smell. I make a mental note to know that there is no way I'm getting those clothes back as after they went in that trash can, that's the end of it.

Once I am standing in front of him again, my face begins to burn red with the realization that I could have run off. That I was far enough away that if I started to run, he couldn't have caught me. It was the perfect chance to run and get away but I didn't think of it. What's humiliating is that the thought to run NEVER entered my head.

"Go to the tree, put your hands up on the branch," the man says and after he leans forward and begins to stand. Disgusted at myself as I could have gotten away, I say nothing as I turn around and walk towards the only tree in his yard. It's not a super huge tree, but it is still pretty large, no doubt here for 50 years or so. The branches are all bare due to the season, and I notice lots of cuts all over the tree.

I see the branch he is referring to as a single branch that is wrist thick sticks out perfectly parallel with the ground. For him, the branch is about at head level, but for me, it's over my head a good deal. As I get closer to it, I wonder what he is planning to do. Surely it's nothing too horrible. Right? But it is Halloween. The night where the crazies and weirdos come out.

Moving to the branch, I see there are two pieces of rope tied to the branch, one loop on either side of my body with about a foot of rope hanging down. It doesn't take a genius to know why, as there's no doubt he's made someone else do this before. I lift my hands and grab hold of the branch as he told me to, my hands on either side of the tied pieces of rope.

Without saying a word he steps behind me, pressing against my naked body with his solid, clothed self. His hands reach out and wraps the rope around my right wrist, then does some fancy knot to secure my wrist to the branch. As a test, I pull on my wrist but it's bound tight to the branch. A moment later he secures my other wrist, making me completely helpless as I'm tied to this tree, my hands over my head.

I look forward to see the street and all the houses that are on the other side of the street. Staring at them, I feel the cool breeze on my completely naked body. I feel like I've been put in someone else's body as I'm naked, outside, facing the street. This isn't something I would ever do. I'm a good girl. I mean, I made the Dean's List.

Yet like a whore, I'm tied here so that people can actually see my naked body. They can see everything too. My big breasts, my shaved lady place and maybe most important, my face. And I know there are people inside those houses because I see the lights on inside the houses. Are they looking at what is happening? Are they seeing me right now?

The man brings something dark into my view from overhead. My first thought nearly makes me scream as I think it's a cloth or something that he's going to use to strangle me. But it's not. It's my bra. He takes it and folds it so the cups are pressed together, which confuses me, as why is he showing me this?

Now he moves it towards my face. I try to back up in either body or by moving my head back, but he's still right behind me, blocking me. As solid as a tree he prevents me from moving at all until my own bra cups are pressed against my mouth. Knowing what he is doing, I open my mouth and he puts as much of my bra fabric as he can in my mouth...as a gag.

I groan in humiliation as most of the bra sticks out, making me feel and look so stupid. Then he takes the straps of my bra and wraps it around my head, tying it off in the back to keep the bra tightly bound to my face. I feel the fabric of my $50 bra pressing against my lips and face and again can't believe this is really happening.

"Remember bitch, this is your fault," the man tells me, oddly reminding me of my father when I would get in trouble as a kid. I then hear something parting the wind and then a loud crack. A high-pitched yelp exits my gagged mouth as I feel the clear feeling of a belt smacking my bare ass. He just whipped my ass with a belt.

My eyes widen as I feel the stinging of the belt as it hit clear across both cheeks. My hands grab at the branches overhead as my entire body tenses with the pain. Oddly, the first thing I think of is that he could have hit much harder if he wanted to, but he didn't. That he's holding back.

He swings his belt again, making a loud cracking noise when it lands, causing me to cry out again. The bra cuts off a lot of my yell, but not all of it. It does send my own hot and heavy yell back in my own face as I feel the stinging pain.