Ghosts of Halloween: A Dark Why Choose Romance

This is the filthiest, most erotic sex I’ve ever had. And it says something, considering how many guys I’ve fucked.

But not one of them has come even close to this. I’ve never had a pierced cock inside me, but it’s more than that. These three men worked magic for me.

A part of that is all the care they’ve given me. Groomer still makes an effort to give me sparks, even though I’m properly aroused now. I’m wet, I feel everything, and his cock inside me feels divine. It doesn’t burn anymore, just presses in good and tight. I can almost map out how he’s pierced based on the feeling of him alone.

Seems like that orgasm unlocked something, and sensation flooded back in.

He could just fuck me, and it would feel amazing. And yet, he keeps trailing his fingers over my skin, making little dazzling bursts go off inside, filling my chest with something bubbly and just—so good. At the same time, I climb another high, his cock pressing into all the right places.

I’m hypersensitive now that I can finally feel.

He bottoms out inside me and doesn’t pull back, grinding into me, and I moan. He fills me so good. I wish I could see his cock. I bet it’s glorious.

Fuck. I was never much into cocks—they didn’t give me sparks, after all—but his? I’m so curious, and I know I’d blow him. I’d blow each of them, actually. With pleasure.

Butcher would have to close his eyes and pretend a guy was doing him.

When Groomer growls in my ear, I realize I’m giggling. There is still too much good stuff in my brain, and I’m loopy.

“I’m sorry,” I gasp out, focusing on the scene in front of me to get back on track. “It’s just… I’m happy. And I don’t know what to do with it.”

His chest shakes against my back, and then he presses me closer and kisses my temple while I watch Butcher’s cock moving in and out of Strangler’s ass. Both of them pant, their bodies slick with sweat. While Butcher left his shirt on, his ass is bare, and Strangler is completely undressed.

I squint at his tattoos. Now that I see him in all his glory, all those muscles, tanned skin, and wiry hair, he reminds me of someone.

The name’s on the tip of my tongue when Groomer covers my eyes with his hand, turning my head so sharply, my neck hurts, and kisses me with a growl.

He seems desperate, biting my lower lip, forcing his tongue in my mouth. It feels like a claim, and I give in with a sigh, all thoughts fleeing. There’s only me, him, and the far off panting and slap of flesh from the two men.

“You have no idea how perfect you are,” he says in my ear after releasing me, my eyes back on Strangler and Butcher. “I can’t help it. I need you so much.”

He pulls back and thrusts into me so hard, a sweet ache throbs in my belly. I cry out, half from pain, half from bliss. And then he fucks me fast until I howl, unmoored and fighting for balance. His hands grip my hips hard, and with every thrust, he pushes me.

I wish I could hold onto something. But my hands are still tied, and I swing with his every thrust, the harness absorbing the movement.

“That’s a good fucking girl,” he grits out, voice rough. “So good for me. Squeeze me tight with this pretty cunt of yours, Harlow. Squeeze me good.”

Sparks course across my skin and explode in my lower belly. He fucks me bare, and it’s so much better. He’s inside me, skin sliding against skin and steel, and I cry out, riding that wave until I crest it, squeezing him tight just as he said when I come.

“Fuck!”

Groomer fucks me harder, faster, and then stills, his cock pulsing deep inside me.

We both breathe hard, my body throbbing, when Butcher grabs Strangler’s cock around his hip and jerks him off, fucking him hard. Strangler comes on the floor with a low moan, and Butcher fucks him fast, groaning until he, too, finishes, his body jerking.

For a moment, there’s nothing, just the four of us breathing hard in the orgasmic afterglow. The world seems to spin. My head is full of clouds, my body weak and shaky. I try to stand, but my legs don’t seem to work.

My body’s a fucking noodle, and something about it feels wrong. I’m too relaxed. Too loose.

Out of control.

“Fuck, princess,” Groomer says. “I think I’m ready to go again.”

I cringe because I’m not. Actually… I don’t know what I want. Only that somewhere inside me, euphoria rapidly gives way to discomfort.

For one, everything hurts. Muscles I didn’t even know I had tremble and tense. But also… Something else seems to be happening in my head. Slowly, my thoughts swirl and dance until they coalesce into something akin to panic.

I fucked up.

I shift uncomfortably, my pretty dress suddenly chafing, the cock still inside me no longer pleasant, but violating.

As I come down from the high, more and more alarm bells ring in my head.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I just broke my number one rule and had sex without protection. With my Oxy gone and plans derailed, this suddenly seems like a much bigger deal than it was just moments before.

How did this happen? I think frantically, trying to understand.

Because this isn’t me, it’s not what I do.

I never make these mistakes. Other girls do, but me?

I am always the responsible one. Cool headed when it comes to sex. Calmly putting a condom on every guy I am about to fuck. I even carry my own. Always prepared.

But today…

I got carried away. Exactly like those other girls who forget because they are all hot and bothered. Today, I was, too.

And yes, it is all fun and good to pretend there are no consequences. How did I justify it to myself just now?

Oh, right. I thought that maybe I was dead and in heaven. I snort, shaking my head, a bitter taste in my mouth. I’m fucking alive and I know it. And when you fuck up in real life, you get real consequences.

As I stand here, Groomer’s cock still inside me, reality slams into me.

So fucking stupid!

“Pull out, please,” I say, my voice ringing hollow in my ears.

He makes a surprised noise but does as I ask. I hear shuffling behind me, clothes rustling. In front of me, both men get dressed, faces concealed by their masks.

God, I’m ready to cry. It all felt so good, but I just had to fuck it up, didn’t I? I should have kept my cool. Reminded him to wear protection, at least, but I was so into it, I didn’t think.

I was happy. And I just knew it would all shatter. Waited for it, itching for my normal misery to come crashing back.

And so it did. With a vengeance.

Groomer runs his hands down my shoulders and arms, and I jerk away from his touch as much as the harness allows.

“Untie me,” I say through clenched teeth.

“Princess, what’s wrong?” Groomer asks, sounding alarmed.

“Untie me, and I’ll tell you,” I say, though it’s a lie. As soon as I’m free, I’m out of here.

I need to get plan B. And get into the apartment without my keys.

I close my eyes and shake my head, my face twisting into a grimace. It all seemed so simple when I knew I could die. Now that it’s no longer an option, all my life’s burdens pile on top of me. Too heavy to bear.

This night went down all wrong. First, I puked out the pills like an idiot. I got myself tied up by three fucking strangers, and instead of trying to free myself…

I let them get me off. I let one fuck me. And it doesn’t even change anything. I still want to die, only now, my poison of choice is gone.

Fuck. What do I do now?

Maybe I can cut my wrists, I think with a shudder. It’s obviously not my first choice… But still better than this heaviness that’s crushing me to the ground right now.

I can’t live with the burden of being me. Just can’t.

Groomer steps around me, and I raise my head, distracted. My heart gives a painful beat, and I hold my breath. Will I see him now…?

He comes into view, an orange, jack-o’-lantern sort of mask hiding his face. It grins, just like Strangler’s skull mask.

“Harlow, what’s the matter?” he asks, but I’m too busy watching him to answer right away.

He’s tall and muscular in that lean, basketball-player kind of way. He wears jeans and a tank top, and there is a simple metal bracelet on his wrist. I still. He reminds me of someone. And now that I think about it, his voice is familiar, too.

But then I shake my head, because that’s impossible. My mind’s playing tricks on me.

“Everything is wrong,” I finally say, looking into the dark holes in his mask. I can’t really see his eyes, and yet, I keep looking, trying to see if they are mossy green like Jack’s.

They can’t be. But the similarity is so uncanny, I can’t help but stare. Then I shake myself off and look at the floor, trying to stay focused while the other guys come closer. All stand in front of me, just looking, and I suddenly feel dirty and exposed, even though I’m not even naked.

But I can’t control my emotions and the shakiness inside that’s threatening to burst. I’m too vulnerable for comfort.

“I want you to let me go, give me back what’s left of my pills, and leave me the fuck alone,” I state as calmly as I can.

“Why the change?” Butcher asks, voice cool. “You seemed to enjoy yourself just now.”

I huff in exasperation and finally look up, baring my teeth at Groomer, who takes a step back, startled. His reaction puts a grim smile on my face.

“You should have used a condom,” I spit out. “Because I’m not bringing a kid into the shitshow that’s my life. No way. So either bring me plan B or let me go so I can get it myself.”

He barks out a surprised laugh and comes closer again, raising his hand to touch me. I snap my teeth at him, and he pulls the hand back, shaking his head.

“Fuck, babe. That’s okay. I won’t knock you up. I’m sterile, okay? Calm down.”

“That’s not the fucking point!” I snarl.

Groomer exchanges a look with Strangler, their masks communicating in silence, and it makes me livid.

I shouldn’t have done any of this. I shouldn’t have let them. Now that it’s over, I don’t even know how it happened. I guess… Sparks. They clouded my judgment.

That touchy-feely bastard.

Well, no one is touching me now. And no one will.

“I’m tired of this game,” I say, glaring at each of them in turn. “I want to see who you are, and then I want to go home. You had your fun with the armless girl. You can brag to your friends. So let me go.”

“Fine,” Groomer says, and it seems like the other two are surprised, because they turn to him as if to protest.

Strangler clears his throat, but Groomer raises his hand to silence him. He turns back to me, stepping so close, I smell him. Warm, male body. Sweat. Arousal and some kind of body wash that vaguely rings a bell.

“Fine, princess. I will untie you and you can see me without the mask.”

Groomer gets to work on my harness, expert fingers loosening the knots and pulling on the rope until I stand free, rolling my shoulders in discomfort. When Groomer makes no move to take off his mask, I give him an impatient look, and he laughs quietly.

He leans closer, taking my face in his hands, his thumbs brushing up my cheeks. My breath hitches and I squirm, helpless as sparks pour into my bloodstream.

Fucking sparks. They are my drug, my addiction, the high I’ve chased for so long. And he can give them to me just like that. Without any effort at all.

I can’t help but hate him a little even as I bite back a whimper, not even trying to push him away. He’s my crack. He can do whatever he wants with me, and it’s the most helpless I’ve ever felt. I want to glare at him, but I know my eyes must be pleading as I look into the holes in his mask.

Then I squint. It seems like his eyes are green. Just like Jack’s. But then he speaks again, and I forget my ridiculous suspicion, outraged by his words.

“You can see who I am,” he says again. “But you have to catch me first.”