Wendy McLennan looked at herself in the mirror and was happy with what she saw.

Looking back at her was an attractive young woman wearing a black microfiber longsleeved minidress, sheer black pantyhose and four-inch black high heels. She had a pointed witch’s hat on her head and was holding a straw broom. Her makeup was dramatic: blood-red lipstick, heavy black mascara, smoky black eyeliner, multi-hued eyeshadow and rouged cheeks. Her shoulder length hair was raven-black with indigo highlights worn straight with bangs. Her décolletage was exposed by the dress’s plunging neckline.

Wendy McLennan was dressed as a Halloween witch and Mary Whitford, her best friend at the Omicron Lambda Lamia coeducational fraternity, had helped her with her costume and makeup. Wendy pretended to need all the help she could get because under the makeup, dress and heels was twenty year old William McLennan. Wendy’s hair, her svelte figure, her long shapely legs and her pretty face were all her. The only part of her body that was artificial was her breasts which were expensive silicon breastforms.

“You look gorgeous! Wendy the witch! O ... M ... G! I’d never guess that that was you William, you look more like a woman than I do,” Mary squealed.

William had not let on that he had been crossdressing ever since he had reached puberty. He had started, like most, borrowing his sister’s clothing and had progressed to owning his own extensive wardrobe. Also like most, he was very much in the closet and few knew of his secret, certainly no one in the fraternity.

“I do look pretty convincing don’t I?” Wendy complimented herself.

“You sound it too,” Mary giggled.

“I’ve been practicing my female voice ever since I decided to dress as a witch,” Wendy lied.

William had perfected a female voice long ago and practiced it until it came naturally to him.

The fraternities and sororities at Saceur College trick or treated every Halloween, it was a long held tradition. Each frat-house and sorority gave an award for the best costume and Wendy was sure that she would not be the only guy getting around in drag tonight but she wondered how many of them were also secret transvestites?

Gangs of college students dressed in their Halloween finery roamed the streets of Haxa, the small Virginian town where Saceur College was located, and trick or treated late into the night after most of the children had gone to bed. Most of Haxa’s residents enjoyed the antics and pranks played by the students and those who didn’t tolerated them because the college was one of the primary sources of revenue for the townsfolk. They treated the costumed students of Saceur College not with candy, but with booze and snacks and in the case of some of the more liberal thinking residents, drugs.

“You look stunning too Mary,” Wendy complimented her friend.

Mary was dressed as Harley Quinn and she had gone full Margo Robbie right down to the red and blue accented blonde hair, midriff exposing ripped t-shirt, tiny hotpants, runnered black fishnet pantyhose and quirky high-heeled boots. She had the makeup down pat too. Mary had even gone to the trouble of finding authentic temporary tattoos, including the ’Lucky You’ below her navel.

The ’Lucky You’ tattoo had always intrigued Wendy but she disagreed with online pundits about its meaning. Wendy thought the tattoo was located above Harley Quinn’s crotch to specify that if you had got that far you were getting lucky. Wendy looked at the corresponding tattoo on Mary Whitford’s lower belly and thought that she wouldn’t mind getting lucky with Mary. She wondered if Mary might be up for some faux lesbian sex later.

Wendy shook the thought out of her mind to be revisited later; she was becoming uncomfortably erect in her red satin panties as a tableaux of sexual fantasies played out in her mind. William/Wendy McLennan was bisexual. William was only interested in women, the thought of having sex with another man interested him not at all. Wendy however swung both ways and she was liked to spend the weekends and holidays in the nearby city of Pishach picking up tranny-chasers in LGBTI bars or holed in her hotel room and posting her availability on Craigslist and Grindr.

Wendy and Mary met the other frat members in the House’s common room which had been appropriately decorated for the holiday. Their frat brothers and sisters had gone to the same considerable efforts with their costumes. There were pirates, super heroes, ghouls, goblins and ghosts, and celebrity impressionists and parodies and of course, some of the men were in drag as were some of the women although Wendy still thought that she looked the most convincing.

They drank shots and shotgunned a couple of beers and were well on their way to being inebriated by the time they left to go trick or treating. Wendy and Mary teamed up with the werewolf, Superwoman and Beetlejuice and headed out into Haxa just after 9PM.

The streets of Haxa were bereft of children who had been replaced by marauding gangs of college students. Some of the houses had been darkened but most still had welcoming lights and decorations. Wendy’s little group knocked on half a dozen doors where they were greeted with bottles of beer and shots of liquor and in some instances were invited in for cocktails. They soon lost Superwoman who elected to stay in a house inhabited by a couple in their late twenties. The lady of the house was dressed as Elvira and her husband as Superman and they made it obvious that they were putting more emphasis on tricking than treating. Wendy was a little jealous; she wouldn’t have minded a ménage à trois with the attractive couple herself.

At another house they were offered Molly which combined with the alcohol to provide a mellowing effect and they were offered mushrooms at another house, which caused Wendy to have mild hallucinations. Later in the evening Wendy found herself alone and on the outskirts of Haxa coming down from an MDMA and psilocybin induced high, feeling disoriented and dehydrated. She had no idea what had happened to Mary, the werewolf or Beetlejuice. She had lost her witch’s hat and straw broom somewhere but that was not her main concern.

The area was quite rural and there was only one house on the street and it looked abandoned. Then Wendy saw a light in one of the windows and she sighed with relief and made her way over to the house. She would ask for some water and request the owner call her a cab as she had sensibly left her cell phone in her dorm room. Last year she had awoken the day after Halloween hungover, naked and bereft of her phone, wallet and keys and she had no intention of doing so this year.

The wooden gate was stuck half-open and refused to budge so she eased around it carefully so as not to put a runner in her pantyhose. The gate was attached by rusty hinges to a lopsided and decrepit fence overgrown with weeds and missing most of its pickets. The house didn’t look much better. The roof was sagging and missing slats, the exterior wooden cedar walls were misaligned and the battens were bleached and coming adrift. The windows were filthy with grime and the tattered mesh curtains looked like they had rotted in place. Wendy was surprised that anyone lived in the house but as she made her way along the broken brick path she could definitely hear footsteps and discordant music.

She wondered if it was the drugs she had taken or just her overactive imagination but the house didn’t seem to be getting any closer and she seemed to have been walking on the crumbling path for an eternity.

Wendy closed her eyes and shook her head to clear her mind and when she opened them she was surprised to find that she was on the stoop and only inches from the door. The jangly music was somewhat louder and the dingy diaphanous drapes whispered as they rustled in the breeze although Wendy couldn’t feel one.

The door swung open on rusted hinges without her even knocking and Wendy was half-expecting some sort of ghoul to greet her. A shiver ran down her spine and she considered running away but she doubted that her legs were up to the task. But instead of a ghoul she was greeted by a handsome well-dressed young man.

“Can I help you?” the man’s voice was lustrous and exotic with an accent that Wendy couldn’t place.

“I’m Wendy McLennan, a student at Saceur College. I’ve been out trick or treating and I seem to be lost,” she explained.

Her mouth felt like it was filled with cotton wool.

“Of course ... A few of your colleagues came knocking on my door earlier tonight and I was able to treat them although my resources are somewhat limited,” the man opened the door wide and indicated for Wendy to enter.

The interior of the house appeared to be as decrepit as the exterior and Wendy was reluctant to go inside.

The man smiled and his handsome face became almost beatific. Wendy felt like she wanted drown in the deep blue pools of his eyes.

“Sorry about the house. I inherited it from my grandfather and I’m only staying in it for a few days to clear out the family memorabilia and heirlooms before it’s sold,” the man gestured with his open hand for Wendy to enter.

Wendy felt the house almost pull her inside and when she stepped over the doorsill she felt another chill run down her spine. The door closed behind her and the occupant sidled up beside her. He smelled nicely of aftershave but there was subtle undercurrent of rotting meat coming from somewhere.

“I’m Stephan Trompeur, pleased to meet you Wendy,” the man offered his hand to Wendy.

“I’d just like a drink of water and to use your phone to call a ride,” Wendy explained, declining to take the well-manicured hand offered to her.

“I’m happy to wait outside on the stoop,” she added.

“Nonsense. I’ll not hear of it. Come into the drawing room and get warm. I’ll get you a drink and bring you the phone,” Stephan took Wendy’s hand in his.

His flesh felt cool and smooth and she felt a slight tingle of electricity which both scared and excited her. She studied his features in the gloom and observed that Stephan was brutally handsome, slim and muscular, with a symmetrical face, black hair and eyes that were like fire and ice with currents you could drown in. Wendy felt herself being drawn into them.

They seemed to glide effortlessly along the ratty colourless carpet runner down a hall where the decrepit walls were mouldy and decaying wallpaper hung in swathes, some of it draped over fading portraits of long-dead people and antiquated rural scenes.

“I should explain. I’m not really a girl,” Wendy felt stupid as soon as she had said it.

“Of course you are; at least for tonight,” Stephan squeezed her palm.

The drawing room was the antithesis of the rest of the house. A fire crackled in the huge fireplace warming the room. Had Wendy noticed smoke coming from the chimney? She couldn’t remember and it didn’t seem important, she was so exhausted that she could hardly stay on her feet.

The room was dark, lit only by the desultory glow of the open fire and the pallid gleam of an antique desk lamp set on an ancient secretaire. The light failed to fill the room and shadows extended into the corners making it difficult to assess the size of the room. Heavy brocaded curtains blocked any light that might have seeped past the tattered sheers. Dust motes floated lazily in the air.

Stephan led Wendy to a chestnut leather Chesterfield. With its tufted and studded detailing, gracefully curved arms and overstuffed padding it looked imposing but inviting. Wendy had never felt so tired; it was almost like she was outside her body watching herself through a window.

“Sit. Let me get you something and then we can use the phone,” Stephan’s voice was hypnotising and Wendy could not resist.

She could see the ancient Bakelite rotary-dial telephone on the secretaire and although she knew that she should just walk over to it and call a ride she couldn’t fight the urge to just sit and rest. The soft leather seat cushions felt cool and comforting on the back of her thighs and she sighed as she took the weight off her feet. She pushed herself back on the lounge and leaned into it. She lifted her legs and curled them under her and put her head on a throw cushion to rest for minute or two.

She didn’t know how long she had been asleep when Stephan gently shook her awake; it could have been seconds, it could have been hours.

Stephan was sitting beside her holding a glass of red wine.

“I think the last thing I need is more alcohol,” Wendy yawned but she reached for the proffered glass anyway.

“It’s my family’s best vintage. They once grew grapes on this farm and had a small vineyard and winery,” Stephan picked up a glass off the occasional table and clinked his glass to hers.

“To new friends,” he smiled and for a millisecond his face seemed to change into something demonic and then return to its handsome self.

“The Molly; the shrooms! Why did I have to do both?” Wendy whispered.

“You have a friend Molly?” Stephan’s smooth brow furrowed.

Wendy smiled at his naiveté.

“Never mind. To new friends,” Wendy raised her glass in salute and took a sip.

The wine was breathtaking in its intensity and flavour. When she swallowed it and rather than making her stomach lurch as she had expected it to, the wine invigorated her.

The desolate fatigue that had pervaded her body was lifted. She took another sip and she felt herself soaring, invigorated, her perception was needle sharp. But it was skewed. The feeling of being disembodied, watching the tableaux play out before her as if she was part of an audience returned and intensified. She looked into Stephan’s face and once again marvelled at his handsomeness.

Wendy felt herself becoming concupiscent. Her penis was becoming uncomfortably tumescent tucked along her perineum.

“Do you like the wine?” Stephan asked and inched closer.

His arm lay along the top of the couch behind her and his thighs were touching hers. He was uncomfortably close but Wendy felt herself unable to sidle away from him. Did she want to?

“It’s wonderful Stephan but I should really call a cab,” she gave him a wan smile.

Disappointment briefly registered on his face which seemed to briefly shimmer and then his captivating smile returned.

“Finish your drink and I’ll bring over the telephone,” his fingers briefly caressed her shoulder and she once again felt the tingle of electricity at his touch.

Wendy downed the remains of her drink and set down the glass.

“There! Now please get me the phone,” was what she meant to say.

“Thank you so much for helping me Stephan but I really must go,” was what she actually said.

Although she had set her resolve to get up off the couch she found that she couldn’t move. No, that’s not right. She didn’t want to move.

“I was hoping you would stay a little longer. It’s so isolated out here and except for your trick or treating colleagues I’ve seen no one,” Stephan sipped his wine.

He leaned down and filled Wendy’s glass.

“And you are so beautiful and delightful,” he offered the glass to Wendy who declined to take it.

So why was the glass in her hand? Why was she sipping it?

“You don’t know me Stephan. And as I told you I’m not really a girl under this costume,” Wendy breathed.

“Nonsense Wendy. You are whoever you want to be,” Stephan reached out and gently caressed her cheek.

His hand was icy cold but it burned her skin. Her cheek blushed when he touched her and a current of deep contentment and awakening spread from her face and blossomed deep inside her. Her penis was excruciatingly turgid and extremely uncomfortable. She desperately wanted to free it from the prison between her buttocks but it would be decidedly inappropriate and provocative.

Stephan pulled her against his chest. His lips softly caressed her ear and she let out a tiny gasp and squirmed uncomfortably. Wendy didn’t like being so intimately handled by a stranger. Then she felt his lips softly graze her slender neck. Her face heated. She summoned enough courage to meet his gaze. His deep blue eyes seemed bottomless and she wanted to submerge herself in them. His lips appeared indescribably red and soft and she yearned to feel them on hers.

When he stroked her hair the pleasurable feelings intensified. It was as if his touch ignited feelings inside her that she didn’t know existed.

“I really think I should...” Wendy didn’t finish the sentence.

Stephan’s lips pressed against hers and she felt herself melt. At first his lips felt thin and icy-cold but they instantly metamorphosed and became warm soft and plaint. For a millisecond his breath reeked but instantaneously became sweet and fragrant.

Wendy gasped and opened her mouth allowing Stephan’s tongue to delve in her mouth. She put her arms around his broad shoulders and leaned into him dismissing the fleeting stink of death as just another odour emitted by a decaying house.

They kissed languidly, exploring each other’s mouths, pressing their bodies together. Wendy was aware that her breastforms were a deceitful lie but Stephan caressed them though her dress regardless. Surely he must know?

Stephan’s tongue came alive in her mouth exploring every nook and cranny. At times it felt like it was forked, each tip acting independently to caress and fondle her tongue and palate. He stroked and caressed her while as he kissed her. His hand languidly moved from her cheek, to her neck, down her arms to her breast, across her tight belly and then rested on her thigh.

Stephan’s fingers slid under the hem of her skirt and circled the top of her legs and Wendy thought she might die of expectation and suspense when they rested there. She so wanted him to continue exploring under her dress, her cock was thrumming in eagerness. It pressed against her pantyhose and panties straining to be free.

Stephan’s fingers resumed their journey, caressing her silken sheathed thighs and then circling the little wrinkles at the backs of her knees. They continued down her calf and stroked her ankle which was impossible. Because of the way she was laying on the Chesterfield, Stephan would have to have arms six feet long to reach her feet. She kept her eyes closed and just concentrated on kissing him ignoring the hallucinations engendered by the drugs and alcohol. The thought that Stephan was some sort of chimaera crossed her mind briefly and was whisked away when Stephan boldly lifted Wendy up off the couch and sat her in his lap. Stephan was indeed very strong.

Wendy sat facing Stephan and she looked deep into his eyes which she found compelling, almost hypnotic. His smile melted her heart. She so wanted this man to make love to her.

“May I?” he asked as his hands slid under her flimsy dress and stroked her thighs.

“You may,” Wendy leaned in and kissed him.

Stephan returned the kiss and then eased her away so that she was sitting upright in his lap. He lifted her dress out of the way exposing the red satin panties she was wearing over her black pantyhose. Stephan slipped his fingers inside the waistband of her pantyhose and Wendy lifted herself up a little so he had access to her.

Stephan found Wendy engorged and throbbing between the cheeks of her buttocks and he gently freed her so that she tented the front of her panties. His hand remained inside her pantyhose and his finger tickled her puckered bud causing Wendy to flinch. Then it slid inside her, past her crinkled sphincter and inside her anus.

Wendy had douched before she dressed as a matter of course but she hadn’t really been expecting to have sex tonight so she hadn’t lubricated herself but Stephan’s finger found no resistance. It was as if his long manicured fingers were so smooth that they needed none.

Wendy squirmed in Stephan’s lap as his finger went deeper inside her. He caressed her prostate causing little jewels of pre-ejaculate to form where her penis pressed against her panties. Stephan scooped them up with a fingertip and brought it to his lips. Wendy groaned as he expertly massaged her prostate, dilating it and stroking it so that she produced more pre-seminal fluid as he elicited feelings of deep prolonged pleasure.

Using his free hand he rolled down the front of her panties exposing the dark fifteen-denier control-top pantyhose. He pressed a fingernail into where her pantyhose were tented by her engorged penis to create a little hole and freed her engorged penis.

Wendy gasped when he gently stroked her cock, working the slippery pre-ejaculate into her tender flesh. His finger continued its journey inside her, past the anorectal sphincter and into her rectum where it circled and massaged her inner bowel. Wendy thought Stephan’s finger must be extraordinary long to reach so far inside her but the thought was fleeting, she was too immersed in the pleasure that Stephan was evoking from her throbbing penis and aching anus.

She leaned forward and kissed him and Stephan’s snake-like tongue slipped into her mouth evoking yet more blissful lust. She kissed him deeply and then she leaned back so that she was straddling his thighs and had access to his groin. She unbuckled him and was amused to find that he had a buttoned fly and she teased him, slowly opening it one button at a time.

Stephan responded by driving his finger impossibly deep into her bowel whilst squeezing her cock so tight that she nearly ejaculated. Stephan let go before she reached extremis and he smiled wickedly at her.

“Continue please Wendy or I shall cause you to ejaculate prematurely and you will miss out on the most memorable of experiences,” his smile was impossibly wide and his teeth appeared jagged and pointed.

Stephan closed his mouth and when he opened it again it had returned to the beautiful full-lipped mouth that Wendy so wanted to kiss. She shook off the effects of the drugs and concentrated on unbuttoning the remaining the studs.

She reached inside and Stephan smiled virulently when she found his thick palpitating appendage coiled inside his underpants. It throbbed in her hand like something alive with its own heartbeat and the shaft felt like it was covered in smooth scales. When she freed the protuberance from his flies she saw that it was nothing more than a most splendorous specimen of a male organ. It was extremely long and skin was translucent, she could see the veins pulsing, the glans was pink and spongy and a trickle of precum dribbled from the eye.

Wendy was mesmerised by the impressive example of manhood and she took the translucent driblet on her fingertip and bought it to her mouth. It tasted divine and Stephan pulled her to him and kissed her so that he could share her prize. His tongue explored her mouth while his finger explored her anus. Their cocks pressed together and throbbed in anticipation of what was about to come.

Stephan extracted his finger from inside Wendy’s anus and it seemed to her to take perpetuity until it slid past her sphincter. Stephan put both his hands under Wendy’s buttocks and lifted her bodily and adjusted her so that she was sitting above his rampant member.

“Let me remove my panties and pantyhose or at least pull them down,” Wendy giggled like a schoolgirl.

“No need my dear, nor do I want to,” that malicious shark-like grin returned briefly to his face.

To her amazement when Stephan slowly lowered her, his cock cut through her satin panties and nylon-spandex pantyhose like a knife through warm butter. When it pressed on her sphincter it briefly felt like tip of a blade but it morphed back into the spongy assemblage of a human glans.

When it slid past her sphincter and entered her anus it felt amazing despite there being no lubricant. Copious amounts of pre-ejaculate eased its passage. His cock disgorged the slippery fluid in an almost constant stream like a dog’s preputial discharge prior to mating. Stephan’s cock felt wonderful as it entered Wendy’s tight anus, the shaft once more seemed like it was covered in smooth scales which evoked rings of pleasure from her anal sheath whilst his glans pressed on her prostate which caused her to squirm with delight.

His cock seemed inconceivably long as Stephan continued to enter her. Wendy gasped as the throbbing appendage pushed past her anorectal sphincter. She had never had a penis in her so deep and the feelings it evoked were wondrous.

She began to rise and fall on the engorged phallus that filled and stretched her bowels but Stephen put his hands on her shoulder and pressed her down into his lap.

“No need for that either my darling, just hold still and let me,” Stephen pulled her to him and kissed her passionately.

Wendy felt Stephan’s cock unbelievably morph into corkscrew shaped proboscis that spiralled in and out of her anus. He held her still, driving his tongue inside her mouth whilst his coiled appendage twisted and turned inside her as it wormed deeper and deeper inside her until she thought it would burst out of her mouth. There was no pain, only intense feelings of sexual excitement that she was unable to describe.

Stephan’s coiled, palpitating organ slid in and out of her anus at an incredible rate, driving deep inside her, then quickly spiralling out and then again spearing her sphincter and entering her deepest parts.

Stephan nuzzled her neck and stroked and squeezed her penis, bringing her to the pinnacle of relief and then receding and denying her ejaculation. He teased her as his cock oscillated inside her. Her panties were soaked with Stephan’s pre-ejaculate as he continued to expel profuse amounts precum.

Wendy realised that the combination of drugs, booze and whatever it was that Stephan had given her to drink was causing her to have delusions but whatever they were, they were amazing.

Wendy had never felt so well and truly, wonderfully fucked before. Stephan’s cock was doing things inside her that she had never dreamed possible. It pressed and prodded her prostate and wriggled and writhed against her sphincter causing the most wondrous pleasure. If Stephan wasn’t squeezing her cock preventing her from coming she would have orgasmed at least twice by now.

Suddenly Stephan bellowed; his roar painful to her ears. His cock seemed to engorge so that it threatened to split her open and his hand suddenly felt freezing cold on her cock and then became white hot. He stroked her throbbing erection as his spiralled appendage jackhammered in and out of her and flooded her with bitterly cold semen. Her anus seemed like it was frostbitten but the feelings of delicious pleasure that Stephan’s squirming, pounding cock evoked from her was almost unbearable.

Wendy screamed as she ejaculated joining Stephan’s roar filling the room with a cacophony of shrieks and howls. A wraith like presence emerged from the shadows and circled the rutting couple grinning through a translucent mouth; its ethereal smile was malicious and mischievous.

Stephan roared again and the wraith scampered away back to the shadows as Wendy clung to him while he filled her with his freezing seed. She gasped and writhed in his embrace when he bit her lips and drew blood which he lapped up with relish, she didn’t care. It only added to her pleasure. At the apogee of her orgasm Wendy passed out as the intensity of it overwhelmed her.

She didn’t get to see the twelve inch long, pulsing, snake-skinned, coiled and writhing appendage that Stephan withdrew from her sphincter. It was still sputtering gobbets of semen that spattered on her clothing where it hissed and smoked. Stephan reached down and scooped up Wendy’s ejaculate and sucked it from his fingers. When he had collected every drop he removed her from his lap and lay her on the couch and gazed upon her. He leaned down and licked more blood from her bruised lip.

“I think you will do Wendy. I think you will do splendidly,” he whispered.

Somewhere deep in the house a moan was followed by a scream then the house became silent except for the patter and scratching of rats and mice.

Wendy awoke from a vivid tortuous dream where she was being pursued through a maze by a faceless spectre. Her sphincter was burning and her anus ached. She put a hand down there and found her panties were soaked with a mucus-like substance that had to be Stephan’s semen. Wendy had never seen a man produce so much seminal fluid before.

Her head was fuzzy but the effects of the drugs and alcohol appeared to have abated. She was cold, lying atop a bed that she instantly knew wasn’t her own. She reached out expecting to find Stephan lying beside her but she was alone. She willed herself to open her eyes even though she wanted to go back to sleep.

It was still dark. How could it be? It seemed like she had been asleep for hours. She sat up and surveyed her surroundings. She looked at her watch and realised that she wasn’t wearing one. ’Witches don’t wear watches, ‘ Mary Whitford had giggled when she was helping Wendy dress.

Wendy was lying on a huge wooden four-poster bed. The duvet was extravagant and baroque, intricate patterns brocaded on heavy silk inlaid with gold threads. But it was old and faded, ancient and threadbare, and it smelled musty and felt dank. Wendy thought she felt something moving under the covers and she leapt off the bed.