Hallowpeen

by Holly Wilde

But she didn’t call me. She never came home. Thousands of viewers across the world were the last to see her, but no one knows what happened to her. No one, except for the Hallowpeen.”

“The Hallowpeen comes and jacks you off at night, refusing to leave until your peen is as hollow as his soul, muahahaha,”

Everyone in this town knows that strange things happen on Halloween night, so why people are cool with tempting fate with the Hallowpeen is beyond me. Real story or not, summoning demons with repeated mantras is exactly the kind of thing I avoid in Hollow Springs. Especially on a full moon night when the veil of sentience is its thinnest.

So, how bad can this Hallowpeen really be?

It didn’t feel like more than ten minutes, but I guess time can play tricks on you when you're about to summon a demon.

Oh, my gourd, the carved pumpkins lining the stairs have come to life!

Their triangle-shaped eye holes, slightly larger than the one carved for the nose, stare at me as if I’m the treat tonight.

“Don’t you ever say that you belong to another, or I’ll show you just how thoroughly you belong to us.”

But, I’m currently in a Hallowpeen sandwich, all I can think about is how close their pumpkins are to my pie.

“Just because my guts have been ripped out doesn’t mean I can’t rearrange yours.”

"Alright, Pumpkin, I'll do my best to be more gentle. It's not something that comes naturally to me, but I'll make an effort for you. I still plan to rearrange your guts, though."

I need to figure out exactly what being here means for me, and it’s clear their only plan is to fill me like a glass of pumpkin juice.

In harmonized unison, the two of them eat me like a candied apple, munching and gnawing at me until I moan.

Like leaping into a pile of raked leaves, I fall into the lustful cocoon of my orgasm.

I really do feel like I was always meant to be here. To belong to the Hallowpeens.

I’ve always been a coffee girl, but being tea-bagged like this is more electrifying than any seasonal latte.

“Claim me like a ghost takes hold of a haunted house.”

An explosion of frothy sweetness, hints of nutmeg and cinnamon mixed with toasted pumpkin, pours from his cock as I’m filled with his pumpkin seed. Literally, I realize. As I drink down every drop, I notice that his cum is made of pumpkin seeds the size of mini chocolate chips. They are easy to swallow down by the mouthful, thanks to the pool of spiced milk, like a pumpkin latte, that they swim in.

I couldn’t look away even if I wanted to. My eyes refuse to blink as the ribbed candy cock sheaths itself into my bubbling cauldron.

Whoever said candy is bad for the body clearly never hooked up with a candy monster. He feels so good, the only cavity he’s guilty of is the one he’s thrusting his cock into.