Caution: This Horror Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, NonConsensual, Mind Control, Magic, Lesbian, Heterosexual, Horror, Paranormal, Humiliation, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism,
Desc: Horror Sex Story: Chapter 1 - An ambitious reporter is determined to learn the secret of a ventriloquist’s sudden success. While searching for the truth, she discovers some unexpected surprises.
"So why is it," Frank asked, "that we're here again, Tejal? I'm starting to think you're just using this as an excuse for drinks, dinner and a show in Atlantic City, and not an actual news story. Not that I mind, of course." He sat back in his chair, looking around the theater as he sipped at his whiskey. "If you want to count this as a dinner date as well as something work-related, I don't mind expensing it."
Frank grinned crookedly at Tejal ... and the grin faded as he saw the cold, indifferent expression on the face of the gorgeous woman seated across from him. Sighing, he took more than a sip of his whiskey, defeated. He pretended to look around at the other tables, watching the dinner theater begin to fill with more and more guests as showtime approached.
Tejal was used to it. Truth be told, she enjoyed it. Tejal was a striking young woman, willowy and slender with luscious, firm breasts and a long tangled mane of curly black hair. She had large dark eyes and light mocha skin, and when she smiled, it was dazzling and white and perfect. Tejal could turn the head of just about any man in a room when she walked in ... and, often, the head of a woman as well. And when she wore the right outfit – like the one she was wearing this particular evening, a low-cut crimson cocktail dress and stiletto pumps – not only could she make heads turn, she could make people whisper. And wonder. And want her.
But as much as Tejal loved the attention ... she wasn't interested in being with anyone. Not Frank, not any guy, no matter how rich, or attractive, or smart, or funny. She didn't have time for relationships. She hadn't had a boyfriend since she graduated from journalism school five years ago, and didn't really miss it. She was determined to be the best and most successful reporter of her generation. Things like sex and boyfriends and relationships, she'd found, just got in the way of that ambition.
Tejal's star had risen rapidly in the media world since she'd left journalism school – she'd gotten an internship at the National Herald, one of the biggest newspapers in the country, and quickly moved on to a position as a beat report. Shortly after that, she wrote a scathing piece exposing the corruption of a congressman ... and after that, another revealing piece about a famous movie actor's behind-the-scenes secret life as a drug dealer. Those two articles had launched Tejal into the national spotlight, and many people in the news industry thought that her brains, her stunning good looks, and her knack for uncovering a juicy story would take her to the top someday.
Tejal smiled, thinking about that. If only people knew the truth, she mused, sniffing at her wine. Her stories had earned her a reputation as a hard-nosed, no-nonsense journalist who could ferret out stories that no one else could. But ... well, that wasn't exactly true. Most of those stories – the biggest ones, that had moved her well along the road towards being a top journalist – those had literally fallen into her lap, almost by accident. The story about the congressman came from the congressman's then-wife, who thought she had just found out that her husband was sleeping with an intern. Spurned, the wife had called the Herald in a drunken rage ... and Tejal just happened to be the reporter who picked up the phone that fateful night.
As it happened, there was no affair. Oddly enough, the congressman was one of the few politicians in Washington not diddling someone besides his wife – he was actually one of the few "good guys" in office, trying to make a difference for the people who elected him. And he certainly wasn't doing any of the unsavory things that Tejal accused him of in her articles.
Tejal didn't really care, though, not even after the poor bastard's wife found out that her suspicions were wrong, and begged Tejal to print some retractions. The story had made her a star, and she wasn't about to say anything that would change that.
The same went for the drug-dealing actor – the actor's girlfriend, a lesser-known singer who probably dealt more drugs that he did, had gotten in some trouble and was about to be seriously investigated. Remembering Tejal's involvement in the congressman scandal, the girlfriend called her in a panic ... and after a bit of fudging some facts, the actor went to jail for his crime, and his girlfriend's crimes as well, and his girlfriend walked away scot-free.
Sometimes, the facts in Tejal's stories were true. She brought down a few people every once in awhile who actually deserved it. But more times than not ... well, not so much. She'd made up quite a lot of things in the name of a juicy headline, infusing them with just enough truth to make her lies believable ... and, more importantly, hard to completely disprove.
Either way, Tejal really didn't care. She knew she wrote good stories, and her stories had brought down enough famous people so that even the most powerful celebrities and politicians returned her phone calls and texts. She was respected. She was feared.
Tejal loved that, more than anything.
And now ... she was sitting on a story that was, as Frank would call it, a doozy.
"Fine. You want the story?" Tejal asked Frank. She ran a finger across the rim of her wine glass. A knowing smile crossed her face, and she leaned slightly forward, a wicked gleam in her eyes as she looked at her editor. "Well, it's a good one. It's going to be big ... and it's going to sell a lot of papers. Scandals usually do."
"Scandals?" Frank snorted. "He's a goddamn ventriloquist with a wooden dummy. He's a retro fad. That's all. Yeah, he's headlining some big theaters now, but in two years he'll be on some reality television show on cable, trying to make a comeback after his career falls apart."
"Maybe," Tejal replied. "But think about this for a moment."
Reaching into her purse, Tejal pulled out a bunch of neatly-clipped newspaper articles, along with some pictures and forum posts she'd printed out. She pushed them in front of Frank, next to his drink.
"Four years ago," Tejal said, "the act called 'Benedict and the Amazing Bartleby' was instead 'Brian and the Gumdrop Kid'. Benedict was Brian, the dummy was different. And the act sucked. Hard. In fact, it was so bad, it was practically an urban legend." She tapped a finger on one of the printouts of a website posting. "People used to show up just to boo him. Comedy clubs stopped booking him just because other comedians didn't want to be associated with him ... well, that, and they got tired of cleaning up the stage after him. Apparently a lot of people threw rotten bananas at him."
"So?" Frank shrugged. "He was bad. He got good. It happens."
"Except I don't think he got good," Tejal said. "Look." She leafed through the pile of clippings and papers, finally extracting a thin, colorful brochure. "So Brian put the dummy away, left the comedy clubs, and got himself a job at the State Museum. He was a guide, taking tour groups through exhibits about ancient civilizations. And then, after being there about a year ... an idol went missing. A rather expensive idol, of an ancient South American spirit called Kurupi."
"Ah." Frank nodded approvingly. "Now we're talking." He began picking through the papers, looking them over. "So he's a thief ... what's a Kurupi, anyway?"
"A spirit," Tejal replied. "Supposedly a bad one. It's a creature of pure lust, or so some legends go. Doesn't really matter, though." She pointed at a flyer in the pile, one she'd picked up that very night, when she and Frank had arrived at the show. "Check that out. What do you see?"
Frank squinted at it. "Not much, apart from an ugly wooden puppet," he replied. He squinted again. "Jeez. Is that stupid thing wearing a velvet leisure suit?"
Tejal nodded. "Yes. But more importantly ... do you see a picture of Benedict anywhere on that flyer?"
Frank raised an eyebrow. "I'll be damned," he said. Tejal loved hearing the grudging surprise in his voice. "No. No, I don't."
"There's no pictures of Benedict anywhere," Tejal said proudly. "No pictures, no video ... go to YouTube to find a clip of his act, and you won't find anything. He's never done a single interview for anyone. There's no official reviews of his shows, either. Go ask anyone who sees his show. They'll tell you it's the funniest thing they've ever seen, but they can never tell you exactly what the show's about, or what any of the jokes were. It's like he's famous, but he doesn't exist at the same time, either."
"No pictures, no video – nothing?" Frank sounded skeptical. He finished his whiskey, and signaled to a nearby waitress to bring him another one. "Everybody on the goddamn planet's got a phone with a camera, Tejal. That's kind of hard to believe."
"I know," said Tejal. "But it's true." She glanced around the theater. It was almost full, and the crowd was starting to murmur, waiting restlessly for the show to start. "What's even more hard to believe is that no one's ever connected Benedict to Brian ... you know, Brian, the guy who stole a valuable artifact from a museum. No one's ever put together than two guys who make jokes onstage with a wooden dummy for a living are the exact same person."
Tejal smirked, and drank some more of her wine. "Well, no one except me, of course."
"Hmm." Frank leaned back in his chair, staring lazily at Tejal. "Interesting." The stunning reporter couldn't decide if her editor was simply trying to think through everything she'd just told him, or mentally undress her with his eyes. Probably the latter, Tejal thought irritably. He's always finding an excuse to stop by my desk when I wear something low-cut, so he can sneak a look at my tits...
A loud buzzing noise erupted from Tejal's purse. The report peered inside, and took out her phone. A wolf-like smile crossed her face as she looked at the phone's glowing screen.
"Benedict's agent," Tejal said to Frank. She tapped a few buttons on her phone, then placed it gently on the table in front of her. "He just agreed to an interview with our mysterious comedian. An exclusive one-on-one, between him and me. So after we watch his terrible act – and after I record it, of course..." Tejal reached over and pressed a button on her phone, turning on its digital video recorder. "After that, of course, I'll interview him, listen to whatever he's got to say, and then I'll write up an exclusive for you that'll run in the feature section of the Herald on Sunday, that explains how America's latest favorite comedian is a thief, a liar, and a fraud." She sipped again at her wine, savoring its bitter taste.
"Wow," said Frank, shaking his head. He pushed all of Tejal's papers and notes back in her direction, a rueful grin on his face. "Gotta hand it to you. If I didn't know any better, I'd think that you live for these moments. Making the mighty fall, even if it ruins their lives."
"Thank you," Tejal replied. Her dark eyes glittered with a wicked delight. "And yes, I think you do know better ... better than you know."
Sighing, Frank gave Tejal a pitying look. To her surprise, she felt an anger starting to burn inside her. Save it, I don't need you judging me, I can bring you down just like I've brought down better people than you, she thought hotly. She started to say something to him – something particularly vicious – but the sounds of a loud, thumping rock anthem suddenly began to echo through the theater, and the curtain on the stage began to swing open.
We'll talk later, Tejal thought darkly, as the lights dimmed and the show began.
The comedian billed as Benedict strode out on stage to thunderous applause. Tejal didn't particularly see the appeal in the guy – to her, he looked like an average slacker, more suited for working at a coffee shop than a stand-up comedian. Benedict was tall and thin, with a shaggy mop of brown hair and a scruffy, unshaved face. He wore a faded black t-shirt for some indie rock band that Tejal didn't know, as well as a pair of rumpled jeans and dirty sneakers. He held a battered leather case under one arm, that he clutched tightly.
The stage was bare, save for a rickety wooden chair that sat front and center. Benedict scuttled over to it quickly, his shoulders slumped, his eyes firmly fixed on the dusty stage floor as he walked. Wow, Tejal thought in wonder. Does he even want to be here? Looks like he'd like nothing better than to make a run for the parking lot and leave...
Benedict sat wearily on the chair, still not saying anything, still not even looking up at the faces of his puzzled audience. Instead, he put his case in his lap, and hastily flipped it open. Out of the case, Bendeict pulled out a battered wooden puppet, its face garishly painted. The puppet wore a battered top hat and rumpled purple velvet leisure suit, slightly covered in sawdust. A smudged glass monocle covered one of its painted eyes. Benedict sat the puppet on his lap, putting his hand on its back ... and then, the puppet seemed to come to life, sitting up straight, its head slowly turning as it surveyed the audience sitting in the theater.
"Uh, hey, Bartleby," Benedict muttered, although the tiny microphone attached to his shirt made his voice boom throughout the sold-out theater. The comedian's voice sounded dull and listless. Tejal wondered if the guy was stoned. "Ready to start the show?"
"I'm always ready, you pathetic, talentless hack," the puppet snapped back. "I'm just surprised that dumb fucks pay to watch this awful act of yours."
A few people laughed politely, a few more nervously. Tejal didn't laugh at all. However, she was surprised when she heard the Amazing Bartleby's voice. It sounded nothing like Benedict. The puppet's voice was shrill and nasal, and about as abrasive as fingernails being dragged down a chalkboard. And Benedict's mouth didn't move when the puppet spoke. Not at all.
He's really good at throwing his voice, Tejal thought grudgingly. He may not be funny, but he might be the best ventriloquist I've ever seen...
Benedict started to speak some more, saying something to the crowd that Tejal didn't find particularly amusing ... and then, that was when things started getting weird. As the puppet replied to him, Tejal found her fingers wandering to her phone. To her own astonishment, she found herself shutting it off, and tucking it away neatly in her purse. She was dimly aware of people at other tables doing similar things – putting away their cameras, their cell phones, and so on. All of them. Every last one.
Well, I don't need any video of Benedict or his stupid puppet anyway, I'll remember what happens, and just write it all down for my article, Tejal thought, but for some reason that didn't seem right. She thought that there was some important reason she wanted to record Benedict and the Amazing Bartleby's act ... and then shook her head.
No, I don't. Weird.
Up on stage, Benedict began asking the Amazing Bartleby questions. Stupid questions. At least Tejal thought they were stupid, even though she couldn't really hear them for some reason. The Amazing Bartleby shouted some answers back at Benedict, and the answers were really mean, and vicious, and not funny at all. Tejal couldn't believe that anyone could think this was funny ... and, judging from the uncomfortable murmurs from the tables around her and Frank, she wasn't the only one thinking that.
As the murmurs rose, the head of the Amazing Bartlebly turned to gaze at the audience, its hard, sharp features carved into a disdainful sneer. Its glass monocle fell off its face, making some of the audience members laugh nervously.
And then ... the Amazing Bartleby's eyes began to glow. They burned crimson, bright as an angry sun, filled with a boundless, hateful rage that filled Tejal with an uneasy dread. Several of the people sitting in the theater audibly gasped. One even let out a shrill, thin scream. But no one moved, no one at all. All remained fixed in their seats, bathed in a light as red as blood, eyes fixed on the wooden puppet on the stage – and the vicious, horrible scowl etched on its face.
"OBEY ME," thundered a booming voice, deep and low. "OBEY MY WILL."
Impossibly, Tejal thought she saw the puppet's scowl turn upwards into a sardonic grin.
Couldn't have been, Tejal thought, shaking her head in disbelief. Just a trick of the light, that's all ... stupid crimson strobe lights behind Benedict almost blinded me, it's so hard to see him and his stupid puppet...
"Well, c'mon, folks!" the Amazing Bartleby shouted at the audience. "Laugh it up already, morons!"
The audience – including Tejal – roared with laughter.
Benedict began to tell some more jokes. They weren't funny, but the audience laughed, louder and louder. And whenever the Amazing Bartleby spoke, the audience laughed even louder still. Granted, the puppet didn't say much that was funny, either. It either berated Benedict with some vicious, cruel insults, or berated members of the audience in the same mean-spirited way. But Tejal couldn't help it ... she laughed and laughed until her sides ached, and until tears ran down her pretty cheeks. And the few moments when Tejal wasn't laughing – when she sat in her seat, almost doubled over, desperately trying to catch her breath – she managed to see that everyone else seated in the audience was laughing just as hard as she was.
"I need volunteers!" the Amazing Bartleby shouted over the laughter. "Two hot sluts! C'mon, ladies, raise your hands! Especially if you're a dirty whore who loves to fuck!"
Tejal raised her hand, without even thinking. To her own amazement, she wasn't sure what shocked her more – that she'd raised her hand for such a crude request, or that she was actually disappointed when the stupid puppet didn't pick her. Instead, the Amazing Bartleby picked a pale, willowy teenage redhead sitting in the front row, who wore cowboy boots, Daisy Duke cutoff shorts, and a tie-dyed t-shirt ... and an older, statuesque blonde woman, elegantly made up and smartly dressed, wearing a silver-gray designer blouse and black pinstriped flare pants. The blonde looked old enough to be the redhead's mother, but both were stunningly good-looking.
"Wow, you two look fantastic!" the Amazing Bartleby shouted as the female volunteers stepped up on the stage. Applause thundered through the theater, as the audience enthusiastically echoed the puppet's sentiment. "You know what would look better, though? If you two hot bitches started kissing, that would be great, right, folks?"
More applause, along with scattered cheers and laughter. When the women smiled at the audience and began to kiss, a roar of delight erupted in the theater. The kiss started gentle and slow ... and then, the older blonde slipped her tongue inside the younger redhead's mouth, their standing embrace growing tighter as their kisses became more frantic and urgent. The two woman began fondling each other's breasts as their tongues intertwined, and then the blonde's hand slipped down under the waistband of the redhead's shorts, making the younger girl gasp and writhe in delight.
"You know what would look even better?" the Amazing Bartleby shouted at his entranced audience. "If you two sluts got naked! And ... blondie, why don't you go down on your new redheaded friend? Everyone here wants to see you eat pussy, right!"
Impossibly, the Amazing Bartleby winked at the crowd.
Puppets can't wink, Tejal thought dully, but the thought was quickly swept away by another enthusiastic roar of approval from the audience. Eagerly, the two women began shedding their clothes, the older blonde popping buttons off her expensive blouse as she raced to strip. Tejal found herself staring lustfully at the redhead's small, perky breasts, which were pale and covered with freckles. As the blonde dipped her head down to those perky breasts and began to suck on them, the redhead gasped ... and so did half the audience, including Tejal.
The blonde continued to suck the redheaded girl's tits, and one of her hands slipped between the girl's milky thighs as they stood on the stage, fondling one another. The girl's sex was bare and smooth, save for a well-trimmed red strip of hair above her slit. The blonde woman slid her fingers into the girl's cunt, and the girl moaned loudly. The redhead spread her legs wider for the blonde's invading fingers, humping her wet, willing pussy against the blonde's pumping hand. The older woman continued to suck the girl's tits as she fucked her ... and then, she roughly pushed the girl onto the stage floor, flipping the girl onto her hands and knees. The audience watched breathlessly, taking in the lewd sight of the girl's pale, succulent ass, and her parted sex as she spread her legs invitingly open.
Tejal's breathing grew hard and ragged. Her heart pounded with excitement, and her skin was sheathed with a sheen of sweat. Her blouse was partially unbuttoned, and her hand was absently playing with her own tits, caressing them, pinching her rock hard nipples. A wide, uncontrollable smile crossed her face as she saw the blonde kneeling behind the redhead ... and she saw Benedict stand up, removing his trousers to reveal a beautiful hard cock, standing at attention. The ventriloquist moved behind the blonde woman, leaving his puppet sitting alone on the chair ... and as the blonde pushed the redhead's ass cheeks apart and began to lap at her tender young pussy, Benedict pushed the blonde onto her hands and knees as well, and shoved his cock into the older woman's cunt.
"OOOHHH!!!" squealed the older blonde, who happily began humping her pussy back against Benedict's pistoning cock. The ventriloquist began fucking the woman with wild abandon, slapping her ass hard with his hand, his dick plowing her cunt with decadent enthusiasm. Each thrust of his cock into her warm depths forced her face to grind harder against her redheaded lover's dripping twat, and the younger girl sighed happily, wriggling her ass lewdly back against the blonde's ravenous face.
As Benedict savagely fucked the older woman on the stage, Tejal's hand slipped beneath her dress. With a hasty tug, she yanked down her panties ... and, with great delight, she slid two eager fingers into her own slippery cunt. She moaned softly as she began to fuck herself with an insistent urgency, her hot hole already dripping with excitement, her moans matching those of the older blonde's cries as Benedict's cock plunged into her ... and the younger redhead's cries as well, as the blonde woman continued to eat her out. The decadent sounds of slapping, squishing flesh echoed throughout the theater, as did hundreds of wanton murmurs of delight.
Tejal was vaguely aware that Frank had his cock out, and was jacking it furiously as he watched the carnal sights unfolding on the stage. Just about every person in the audience was openly masturbating – at every table, skirts were raised, pants were pulled down, pussies were being fingered, and cocks were being stroked. She was also aware that the three naked, sweaty lovers copulating on stage were all positioned directly in front of the lonesome chair on the stage, where the Amazing Bartleby still sat ... and the puppet looked like it had a tiny hand down its trousers.
And that hand was moving.
"C'mon, Benedict! Fuck her harder!" shouted the puppet. "You like being fucked like this, lady?"
"MMMFFF!!! YES!!! YES!!!" the older blonde screamed happily, between slobbering licks of the redhead's cunt. "IT FEELS GREAT!!!"
"And you – firecrotch!" the puppet happily yelled. "Like spreading your legs, slut, so everyone can watch blondie go down on you? Is blonde a good muffdiver?"
"Ohh ... she's awesome," the redhead groaned in a trembling voice. "I've never had my pussy eaten before ... it feels fantastic..."
"Sounds like I picked a good pair of filthy sluts, then!" The Amazing Bartleby grinned approvingly. "What do you think, folks? Think these whores like to fuck?"
A labored roar of approval burst forth from the crowd – labored, because everyone watching seemed right on the edge of orgasm. Everyone's eyes – including Tejal's – were locked on the sight of Benedict wantonly fucking the blonde woman doggystyle, even as she kept lapping at the redhead's spread-open cunt...
... and then Benedict groaned, and his hips bucked hard. He let out a loud cry. Tejal closed her eyes, imagining Benedict's hard dick inside her own pussy, not that slutty blonde's cunt, how good it would feel, sliding in and out of her, how wonderful his hot cum would feel spurting inside her welcoming depths, filling her completely with his seed...
... and then Tejal shuddered as she came, her thumb furiously rubbing her clit, her fingers fucking herself with reckless abandon.
Judging from the cavalcade of sighs and moans and groans and whimpers echoing throughout the theater, Tejal didn't think she was the only one who came, either.
Tejal opened her eyes, and saw both the older blonde and the younger redhead still naked up on stage, kneeling in from of Benedict, cleaning his still-stiff dick with their mouths. The redheaded girl's mouth bobbed up and down on Benedict's length, while the older blond ran her tongue slowly along the underside of his cock, stopping to suck his balls as her tongue swirled about. Benedict's hands grabbed the redhead's long tresses, and he began to fuck the younger girl's face, hammering his cock into her mouth. The ventriloquist began to smile as he forced the younger girl to take his entire length in her mouth ... and Tejal noticed that his smile eerily looked exactly the same as his puppet's evil, sardonic grin.
"Thank you, sluts!" shouted the Amazing Bartleby. The puppet appeared to be watching the fuckfest in front of him with wicked glee. "And thank you, folks, for coming tonight ... and I do mean coming! But more importantly, thanks for paying the big bucks so you could watch this miserable, talentless hack, you morons ... and thanks for letting me fuck you. In more ways than one!"
"And remember," the puppet added, "OBEY!!!"
Up on the stage, Benedict groaned again, and his body stiffened as he rammed his cock into the redhead's face. Tejal closed her eyes, imagining delicious, hot semen spilling into her mouth, shooting down her throat...
When Tejal opened her eyes again, she was standing outside the theater. Funny, I don't remember the show ending, she thought uncertainly. She looked down at herself, feeling out of sorts. Absently, she pulled down the hem of her dress, which had been riding uncomfortably high on her thighs ... her sweaty thighs, she realized, as she noticed that her whole body was drenched in sweat. She looked around, at all the other people milling about outside the theater, all looking slightly disheveled and confused as well ... including Frank, who was busy tucking in his shirt and zipping up his pants.
A smile slowly crossed Tejal's face. She laughed. The show had been a riot. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen a comedian so gifted and funny. The guy was good, damn good – she had to admit it. And judging from the murmurs and laughter she was hearing from the other people outside the theater – the same people who'd been watching the same show with her – she wasn't the only one who felt that way.
No wonder Benedict's a star, Tejal thought with grudging admiration. Guy's a genius...
Tejal's smile wavered a little, though, as she noticed an older blonde woman and her husband walking past her, heading out to the parking lot, both giggling merrily as they exited the theater. The blonde woman clutched her blouse close to her chest – it looked like all the buttons of her blouse had been torn away. Tejal was pretty sure she'd never seen the older woman before, but something nagged away at her inside her head ... for some reason, the woman seemed awfully familiar to her...
Dazed, Tejal ran her hands through her hair, and looked at Frank, who'd also spotted the older blonde and her husband. Frank looked equally dazed. And slightly troubled as well.
"What ... what the hell just happened?" Tejal asked Frank uncertainly.