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Archive name: hallowin.txt (MF, halloween)
Authors name: Shon Richards (lordshon@aol.com)
Story title : Night at Indian's Hollow
--------------------------------------------------------
This work is copyrighted to the author © 2002. This
story is also mine, and permission is given for it to be
archived as long as you make no money from it, and this
heading remains intact. The author is on his bony knees,
begging for comments at lordshon@aol.com
--------------------------------------------------------
Night at Indian's Hollow {MF, Halloween}
by Shon Richards (lordshon@aol.com)
***
The were the usual rumors surrounded this year's
Halloween celebration at Indian's Hollow. Some people
thought the FBI was going to raid us for sure this year,
while others thought we were going to be raided by
Baptists in pick-up trucks. Most of my friends were
banking on the rumor that Halloween would be extended
into a weeklong ceremony, but I think that's just wishful
thinking. My parents believed that this year all of the
Gods were going to be armed, since we had more non-
believers in town.
The most recent rumor revolved around the town elders
adding new Gods to the event, while the oldest rumor was
that the lottery was a sham and the elders chose all the
gods. Despite the rumors, all the men and women of legal
age still dropped their forty dollars into purchasing
their lottery tickets.
I had just turned twenty-one this August, so this was my
first year in the lottery. I was excited. Of course
everyone had seen some of the incarnations, and everyone
had a hint or a glimpse at what the duties were, but the
Gods were still shrouded in prestige and mystery. It was
easier for a child of Indian's Hollow to find out how to
reproduce than it was to find out just what the Gods did
on Halloween.
By purchasing a ticket, I thought I would finally be told
the mysteries. I was wrong. The most I got out of my
parents were guilty looks and the most I could get from
my boss at the grocery store was, "Don't worry about such
things till you're the head of your own household."
Luckily, or perhaps planned by the Elders, I didn't have
to wait that long. I was one of the chosen.
The secrecy was still present when I was informed that I
won. Mr. Vrice, an Elder, was waiting for me at my house
when I got home from work. He had already talked to my
parents, and told them I was to perform a duty for the
town. That meant mom was crying when I left; sometimes
duties for the town can involve leaving to go on
missions. I was a bit upset myself, but Mr. Vrice told me
as soon as we got in the white van what the real deal
was.
The terror didn't seem to fade, though.
Nineteen other people were waiting for me at the Church,
meaning that there were no plans to add any more Gods
this Halloween. I recognized all of the people; it wasn't
that large of a town. I didn't try to talk to them; there
was a nervous silence that wasn't going to be broken by
me. We just sat quietly in a Sunday school classroom as
Mr. Vrice read briefly from the Green Bible.
"Good evening, Brothers and Sisters, you have been
blessed by God to represent the Lesser Gods this
Halloween," Elder Vrice said with warmth that didn't
touch his eyes. "Before we begin, let's take a moment to
reflect on how Ignatius Nowell came to fond our town."
Not a single groan was heard among the winners, though
I'm sure we all shared the same exasperation. Growing up
in Indian's Hollow we had all heard the story a million
times. All of us knew how Ignatius Howell came out to the
pristine wilderness of North Carolina to track down the
last remaining archeological evidence of the Tuscarora
Native Americans in the summer of 1931.
Even small children knew the details of the Eight Dreams
of Clarity that Nowell had while digging for arrowheads.
Elder Vrice left out the part where Nowell was
experimenting with opium while digging, but then, the
town has always held that part to be vicious slander.
Then Elder Vrice followed up with an overview of what
CBS's "48 Hours" called "A mixture of Freud,
Christianity, Native American myth and Stephen King." In
other words, he explained the finer details of our
religion. I was impressed though, it's not everyone who
can name all fifty of the Lesser Gods. Being young, I was
of course a bit skeptical, but I was respectful. It's the
religion of my parents, and the religion of the majority
of Indian's Hollow, so who am I to say they're wrong?
When Elder Vrice felt that we were in the proper
religious mood, he began to walk around the classroom
pushing a cart. At each of our desks, he left an unmarked
box. I couldn't tell if the boxes were randomly assigned
or not. I guess it's just another mystery of the Church.
Opening my box, I was greeted with the grinning face of
some sort of Wolf mask. It was very detailed, decorated
with apparently real fur. There were a few stains on it,
as well as too much glitter for my taste, but all in all,
it was a mask that demanded respect. At the time, all I
could do was tremble. I recognized this God.
"Hey! He got the Fertility Wolf!" snapped the guy next to
me. "That's not right. Look, he's got glasses and he's
skinny!"
"My mistake, Brother Craig," Elder Vrice said with slight
amusement. "The Elders didn't realize that you were more
qualified to distribute the costumes. Perhaps we can
arrange a meeting after this Halloween so that we can
make better use of your talents."
Everyone laughed. Craig didn't answer, which was the
right thing to do. Sarcasm came easy to the Elders, and
they weren't too pleased when others didn't find them
amusing. Oh, it's not like a person would get killed or
anything. They just know better, that's all.
"Don't forget, once Halloween begins at dusk, you will no
longer be members of this town. You'll be assuming the
roles of the Lesser Gods, acting as their agents in
Indian's Hollow. That means no smoking, Brother Martin,
and please refrain from cursing, Sister Victoria. It
might be disturbing if the Wealth Pig Goddess said 'son
of a bitch' while on the holiest night of the year. Young
ladies, this means you shouldn't wave to your family or
friends when you see them. The congregation demands a
mystique from their Gods, and trust me on this: They
don't really want to know who you really are. Not during,
not after, and not ten years from now."
"More importantly," Elder Vrice continued as he returned
to the head of the classroom. He paused till we were all
looking right at him. "More importantly, the Elders don't
want you to reveal who you are. It's for the best this
way."
Later, as I began my rounds in town, I saw Elder Vrice's
wisdom concerning secrecy. It wasn't the citizen's
happiness that concerned me, it was my dignity. My
costume consisted of the Fertility Wolf's mask, a pair of
furry boots, and glitter. That's it, not even underwear
to protect myself from the breeze. I was the most naked
God of the night; even the Punishing Snake was allowed to
wear pants. The female Elder who doused me in glitter
assured me that I would stay warm all night, which didn't
comfort me that much. That's because she explained to me
the rituals of the night.
The good news was that everyone was paying more attention
to my companion Goddess than looking at me. The Moon
Harlot was Sandra Vogel, the high school's Algebra
teacher, who was already the beauty of the town. The
large natural breasts I had lusted after since high
school were revealed in all her glory. I was granted a
special thrill to know I had finally seen the near-
mythical mammaries, and that no one else in town would
know whose breasts they had seen that night.
Once she'd placed her long brown hair into her
headdress/mask, slid her feet into the silver Romanesque
sandals that tied around her shapely calves, and had her
nipples adorned with small cloth circles that had to be
glued on, she became the collective wet dream of the
town. At least her costume had real diamonds, placed on
her mask and on her nipple covering.
The Moon Harlot had to suffer through a similar amount of
glitter, but where my glitter was golden; hers was the
silver of the moon. Thank God they didn't color my pubic
hair like they did hers, I think I would die of
embarrassment if the woman Elder who clothed me had
colored my pubic hair as well.
We rehearsed our greeting in the van, our assigned Elder
insisting we say it in sync together. Elder Wein was a
small man, but the loud voice he snapped on us kept our
attention. He carried a rather large clipboard with him
and consulted a map as he carried us to the first house.
Since he didn't seem to treat us with reverence, I
thought it wouldn't break my role if I asked a question.
Plus, it kept me from staring at the Moon Harlot's
celestial objects.
"How do the Elders know which houses the Gods visit?" I
asked. "I've noticed in years past, the Gods never
overlap in their journeys around town."
"We use the stars, like Ignatious Nowell used when he
first contacted the wisdom of God. Why do you think the
Elders spend so much time in seclusion?" he asked, rather
casually as he parked.
You don't get to be twenty-one in this town without
realizing a potential pitfall of a question when you hear
it.
"Oh, I had no idea what they did," I answered, perhaps
even truthfully.
"Astrology was one of those subjects I was never good at.
I prefer to leave that responsibility to the Elders."
That seem to please him, though I detected a smile from
Ms. Vogel that made me nervous. I kept a straight face as
we approached the door to our first house, holding hands
with the Moon Harlot as we had been trained. She pushed
the doorbell, while Elder Wein kept a respectful distance
behind us.
"Bane or Blessing!" the Moon Harlot and I called out.
A man answered the door, and relaxed when he saw us.
"The Vern household will take the bane," he said, and the
Moon Harlot entered into the house. When the door closed,
I turned to Elder Wein, who was making a note on the
clipboard.
"Praise be to God for giving us a pleasant night to wait
patiently," said Elder Wein, who anticipated my question.
I simply nodded, and waited.
Ten minutes later, the Moon Harlot came out, and told
Elder Wein that the Vern household had suffered their
bane with satisfaction. He nodded, and then we went to
the next house. God, I was dying to ask Ms. Vogel what
the bane was, but I knew better than to break character
like that. Walking around butt-naked, my horny
imagination came up with all sorts of scenarios. What
kind of private activity could be considered a bane when
it involved Ms. Vogel? Did she kick them in the nads?
We went to every house on Archer Drive, and at every
house, the household always choose bane. That's eight
homes, and eight porches that I stood outside with my
wiener hanging out. After every home, I would study the
Moon Harlot. For what, I'm not sure. She didn't seem to
walk funny, and her glitter didn't seem to be coming off
on any part of her body. By the time we got back into the
van, I was bursting with questions.
"How do the houses know which to pick? I thought they
didn't even know who was coming?" I asked.
"They don't know who is coming," confirmed Elder Wein.
"But when they see who is at their door, the head of the
household can assess themselves and accept the bane or
blessing as they see fit."
"I guess I don't understand," I said slowly, phrasing my
question in such a way that didn't seem disobedient. "How
does God prevent people from picking the blessing, when
they know they deserve the bane?"
Elder Wein looked at me via the rearview mirror, an
expression on his face that might have been astonishment.
"You will find that most people are happy to atone for
their guilt when the opportunity arises," he answered.
"There, look at your fellow God, the Blight Bat,
performing his duties."
I looked where he directed and saw the Blight Bat, in
full padded armor, bashing the hell out of some man's
car. He was using the ax that was part of his costume to
smash the windshield and hack at the tires. I could see
the owner of the car watching quietly from his porch,
standing there with the Wealth Pig and their attendant
Elder. It wasn't the first time I had seen the Blight Bat
destroy a man's property, but it was the first time I
knew that the destruction was voluntary.
"Never forget that the duty you perform as a Lesser God
is always sanctioned by the public," Elder Wein reminded
us sternly. "You must perform the bane without
hesitation, for you are bringing the punishments the
faithful know they deserve.
The same goes for the blessings. Never question yourself,
Wolf, for the people must receive their blessing with the
same conviction that they face their banes. Do you
understand?"
"Sure," I said, and then jumped as the Moon Harlot placed
her hand between my legs.
"I've had no problems with giving the banes so far," Ms
Vogel said as she stroked my quickly growing cock. Elder
Wein didn't appear to notice, and I didn't dare turn my
head to look the Moon Harlot in the face. Was it a sin to
fornicate with other Gods? Did I want to find out?
The van stopped at Martyr's Lane, and we disembarked
again. My cock was hard, swinging between my legs like an
angry horse. Elder Wein didn't comment, for which I was
grateful. My mind got back on my job at the first house;
they chose bane. We skipped the second and third house,
according to Elder Wein's secret schedule. At the fourth
house, the lights were off, but we stepped forward
anyway.
"Bane or Blessing!" we yelled, to which there was no
answer.
"Let's go," Elder Wein growled, marking furiously on his
clipboard.
"Maybe they didn't hear us?" the Moon Harlot said, and
Elder Wein frowned.
"They knew what night it was; if they choose to ignore
the calling of the Gods, that's their choice," he said.
The Moon Harlot took my hand as we walked to the next
house, and I shared her concern. Everyone in town knew of
'somebody' who had missed their Halloween appointment.
For me, it was Mr. Garrick who found himself working
weekends at the sawmill for the next entire year.
I've heard rumors of people who've disappeared or people
who had sudden divorces after missing a God visit, but I
think those are nasty rumors. It's only on liberal
television news programs that religious towns dispose of
their members in gruesome manners. I'm sure public
embarrassment and job harassment would be enough
punishment in Indian's Hollow.
My mind was taken off of the unfortunates at Martyr Lane,
210, when we hit the next house. We assumed our positions
as normal, and made our request. I recognized the man who
opened the door. He was a senior at my school when I was
a freshman. Imagine my surprise when he answered the door
and said, quite eagerly, "Blessing."
When I didn't move at first, Ms. Vogel gave my hand a
squeeze and gently pushed me forward. The excitement of
the night had my heart racing, but I maintained a pose of
dignity. I entered the house, giving a short nod to the
man. God, I hoped he didn't know who I was, or how young
I was. Knowing his shame was bad enough. I didn't want to
compound it by letting him know how young the God who was
here to help was.
He didn't seem to have any shame, though. He smiled at
me, and careful not to touch me, he led me back towards
his bedroom. It was there that his wife was waiting for
me, dressed in an almost virginal white chemise. She was
reclining on the bed, surrounded by burning candles. My
hard cock surged with a new arousal. For the first time
that night, I really believed what the Elder had told me
when I was instructed on my duties.
"Thank you, Fertility Wolf, we've been trying for over
two years," he said. I nodded at him again, and put my
hand on the door. He took the hint and left. I might be
the Fertility Wolf, but I was going to have some privacy!
Hiding behind my wolf mask, I approached the bed of the
woman who needed my particular blessing.
She was beautiful, in that way that semi-nude ladies
illuminated by candlelight always are. Her brown hair was
down, barely touching her shoulders. She couldn't be more
than two years older than I was, yet she looked at me
with a reverence in her blue eyes that was new to my
experience. Her chest was rapidly falling as I came near
her, her bosom straining against the sheer material.
Good, she was nervous. The chivalrous part of my
personality came to the rescue. In soothing her, I found
it easy to ignore my fears.
"Ssshh, calm down, there is nothing to fear," I said as I
sat next to her bed.
Funny, but I was still too nervous to actually touch her.
"I just want to conceive this time," she said, her voice
husky from fear. "I want to give my husband a child, like
a husband deserves."
"Then worry no longer," I said. "It is not up to you now.
From here on, it is the duty of the Fertility wolf."
There must be something special about the mask, because I
could see in her eyes that she believed me. She reached
forward and took my arms, pulling me towards her. Moving
her body further down the bed, she allowed her head to
rest on her pillow. Her legs parted slightly for me, the
chemise riding up on her white thighs. Kneeling on top of
her, I assumed my role, praying that there was magic in
these lesser Gods and they were not just a fevered sex
fantasy from Ignatious Nowell. It felt wrong to be
enjoying this woman, but if there was a chance it would
give her the child she wanted, I would not refuse her.
The mask restrained my mouth, which was maddening. I
wanted to take her nipples in my mouth, especially after
being teased by the Moon Harlot all night long. Instead,
I had to use my hands, which I used in proxy for my
mouth. I cupped her breasts, carefully, as a part of me
expected her to protest. My thumb and finger found each
of her nipples, hidden underneath the chemise. When I
touched her nipples, the woman cupped her hands over
mine, pressing me more tightly to her bosom. My cock
surged painfully with arousal. This simple act on her
part was the permission I needed to enjoy myself.
Accepted by her, and accepting myself, I relaxed and made
a better effort at the task at hand. I shifted my
attention, letting my hands roam her body. The curve of
her neck I explored with my fingers, and her shoulders I
gripped as I positioned my legs between her. Sitting up,
I held her thighs, briefly massaging them as I worked up
the courage to enter her. I wanted to taste her, kiss her
as a way of comforting her, but the most I could do was
touch her, caress her, and massage her as I tried to get
her to relax.
Her eyes were closed; perhaps she was imagining her
husband as my fingers worked at the tension in her
thighs. Maybe she was fantasizing about a celebrity, or
maybe she was imagining the Fertility Wolf as he appears
in the Green Bible. I would never know. I simply touched
her, until finally, she said "Now, please."
As I guided my cock into her, she moaned softly, saying
something I didn't understand at first, but soon
recognized as a prayer. Her legs wrapped around my waist,
driving me into her with the balls of her heels. I placed
my arms over her shoulders, looking down at the breasts
that I wanted badly to kiss.
Instead, I simply watched them as I moved my hips. They
rocked back with every thrust, slipping free from the
cleavage of the chemise. It was sexier to focus on her
breasts, for when I looked at her closed eyes and biting
lips, it reminded me too much of what this household had
riding on me and the Fertility Wolf.
The activities of the night, not to mention the
prescience of the Moon harlot, contributed towards its
being a short blessing at this household. Within thrusts
of entering her, I was already expelling my seed into the
woman. Our motions froze as we felt the event occur, and
she dug her heels deeper into my buttocks, almost as if
to give my seed a shorter route to towards her garden.
Slowly, ever so slowly, we thrust together as we squeezed
every last ounce of seed from my pulsing cock. It was hot
in my mask, and hotter between her legs, but I didn't
complain one bit. In fact, I was saying a prayer of my
own.
The husband escorted me out, and I half expected him to
take a swing at me. Instead, he gave me fifty dollars,
which I politely returned to him. I didn't know the
policy of Lesser God tipping, but it seemed to be
fundamentally wrong. When we left the house, the Moon
Harlot and Elder Wein were waiting. I have to admit it
felt good making them wait for a change.
"This household has accepted the blessing," I said, happy
that the mask covered the huge smile I felt on my face.
The Moon Harlot was looking at me intently, but I let her
know nothing of what transpired in this house. There were
other homes to visit, and other blessings and banes
waiting for us. I motioned for Elder Wein to lead us on.
The End
"He doesn't interest me. God tolerates the intolerable.
He is irresponsible and inconsistent. He is not a
gentleman"- Don Jamie "The Fencing Master" - by Arturo
Perez-Reverte
My stories are kept at
ftp://ftp.asstr.org/pub/Authors/ShonRichards
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. You only have one body per lifetime,
so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
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