Halloween Pleasures


This is a work of FICTION for ADULTS only.  Do NOT read this if you are under 18 or if you are not an adult according to the laws of your State or Country.  Do NOT read this if you are easily offended or if you are not interested in fantasies involving young boys.  This file contains sexually EXPLICIT material.

This story was not written to advocate sexual activity with minors. 

Please support free speech and stop censorship.

Story Codes: (TT/bbbbb,  – mast oral anal bond)


" I've got evil on my mind, my power so divine
My spells cannot be broke until I hang the rope
I am not alive or dead, I'm a spirit dressed in red
I come from the grave, your soul I plan to take
Do you feel you're captured
by the grace of the witch? ” -S


Hey boys and girls, it’s that wonderful time of the year again!

Oh yes, my darling little friends, it is the season when darkness spreads its luscious black veil earlier than before. A time when the wind howls your name and a time to celebrate the dearly departed!  But mostly, for a short while, a period when vampires, zombies and ghosts suddenly become very real on the minds of children and grownups…

What? You think Halloween is just an excuse to sell pumpkins and candy?!


Then let me tell you about Owen, the hero of a strange tale…

* * *

   Owen loved Halloween, everything about Halloween. Every evening on the week prior to the macabre holiday, the eight-year-old boy slept over at his buddy’s home. There, he could watch the old horror films they re-aired on channel 13. Even though his mom warned him that he would have nightmares, Owen didn’t listen to her. He enjoyed so much the heart thumping tension of a good horror thriller.

The ones with a theme of devil possession scared him the most. The gory fares ranked last on his list. He had especially liked ‘Sleepaway Camp’ for the ending. At the moment when the movie explicitly revealed the true identity of the freaky chick, both he and his buddy Marvin had chuckled.

During the viewing, the little boys always sat together on the beaten couch in the TV room downstairs. Clad in flannel jammies, Owen and Marvin huddled closer and closer with the growing fright gripping their souls. Whenever the killer appeared out of nowhere, they flinched and jumped in each other’s arms, squealing and wiggling twenty tiny toes. 

At first glance, the two eight-year-old friends could very well pass as twins. They both had unruly ash-blond hair and button noses. However, the comparison ended there. Owen was a skinny creature with a pouty mouth and a face thin as a blade.  Marvin was taller and sturdier. He wore bifocals that made his eyes look huge, as if they were behind magnifying glasses. For that reason, everyone thought he was half-crazy.

Sleepover evening followed the same ritual. Before the late news, Marvin’s mom descended downstairs. “Boys, time for bed now,” she announced adopting a posture of authority. “And Owen, don’t tell your mother I let you watch those nasty movies, mmkay?”

The children scampered obediently to bed collecting a good night kiss on the forehead. With the bedroom door shut, they chattered in hushed voices, still wired from the hours spent on the edge of their seats. They tickled each other and recounted the best scenes, their legs entwined under the covers.

“D’you remember when the monster came out of from underneath the bed?” Owen interrogated his pal. “Or, when he slashed the shower curtain! That was so sccccarrry!”

“Nah, I wasn’t scared.” Marvin always affirmed, putting on a brave face.

Restless and bored, the boys’ sleepover frequently ended the same way. Marvin hopped out of bed. He tiptoed to the drawer where he kept hidden a bottle of baby oil. His big cousin had suggested he used that...

Seeing the bottle, Owen immediately pulled down his pyjama pants. His dickie was already stiffening in anticipation. Marvin squeezed a few squirts of oil in the palm of his hand. He rubbed the oil all over Owen’s pale smooth crotch until it was gleaming in the glow of the night light.

Owen moaned resting his blond head on the pillow, the naughty game stirred tingles far more amusing than fright.  He let the friendly hand conquer him. The slippery fingers traced the contours of his rigid little penis. They gently teased the sensitive head. Then, they wrapped around the slender shaft. Owen purred feeling the first shivers of pleasure. The hand then started to tug on his dickie with more determination. He grimaced and whispered. “Uhhh Marvin, faster! Do it faster now!”

At once, the pulling intensified. “Like that?” Marvin said. “Is it good?”

“Yessss.” Owen hissed, watching his swollen weenie in the grip of his buddy’s fist. His eyes twinkled. His body jerked from the blissful bursts. The prospect of another strike of delicious lightning hastened his heartbeat. “Almost there! Unnnghhh Marrrrvvvinnn!” he whined, raising his hips off the mattress to help the pumping fist.

Marvin grinned admiring the ecstatic reactions of his pal. The oil made it easy to stimulate the little peg of flesh. His big cousin had showed how to wank it many times. Now, he considered himself an expert. Faster and tighter you have squeeze it!

After that, it didn’t take much for Owen’s little balls to contract. Tears of joy pooled in the small boy’s eyes. Every flick of the wrist brought him closer to ecstasy. The circumcised head of his dickie flared. The glorious rush of pleasure made him wince. He surfed on the waves of his bumpy climax.

Spent and satisfied, Owen caught his breath as his penis shriveled.

Then, he leaned over Marvin’s loins to do the same.

* * *

   The Iron Man costume fit perfectly. Owen put it on again and again. With the padded suit and plastic mask, he really looked like the superhero made of metal. Filled with prepubescent glee, the youngster leapt from the floor to his bed, imagining he was flying in the sky.

He wondered which Halloween costume Marvin would wear this year? For his best pal always seemed to be better at everything and unafraid of anything despite having glasses. Owen didn’t mind that Marvin was superior. In fact, it was a blessing. He could rely on the taller boy to protect him from bullies who regarded him as the ideal prey because of his frail constitution. He knew he would never be strong and courageous like the Iron Man. He didn’t need to, as long as Marvin was there.

When Owen’s mom informed him that she couldn’t go trick-or-treating, the little boy’s heart sank. Thankfully, she had found someone to be a chaperon on Halloween. It was Kyle, the fourteen-year-old lad living next door.

“Don’t worry, honey, Kyle will be there for you and your friends. He’s a big boy.” she reassured him.

Owen agreed that Kyle was indeed a big boy. He had seen the young teen’s hairy penis. Whenever a swim party happened in Marvin’s pool, Kyle often lowered his trunks to expose his ass and plump wiener. He was certainly wild. He never combed the black curls on his head as if he was advertising his rambunctious nature.

One time, along with Marvin, Owen had gone to the older boy’s house. Kyle wanted to show them the special thing he could do. Inside his stinky bedroom, the teenager got naked from the waist down. His big pecker was jutting up and leaking. He lounged on his back and rolled into a ball, sending his feet beyond his head.

The little boys stared intently at the obscene spectacle. They chuckled as Kyle craned his neck to reach his erection. The teen stuck his tongue out and licked around the mushroom head. “Betcha can’t do that!” he said before engulfing the entire glans between his lips.

“Maybe.” Marvin countered.

Both kids continued to look at the gangly boy bent in two, sucking on his dickhead. Kyle explained that he could produce the juice to make babies and proceeded to rub it out. The fertile sauce spurted straight into his gaping mouth. He kept it open to show the baby juice to his captivated audience. It was white and slimy. And as he swallowed the wad, both Owen and Marvin cried out, “Eeeewww!”

Owen never told Marvin how much Kyle’s little demonstration had made his weenie hard. He couldn’t even admit it to himself. But for weeks, he slowed down whenever the teenager was shooting hoops on the driveway, secretly wishing he would be invited inside again.

* * *

   On the evening in question, the thoughts of children were brimming with joy, and chocolate bars, rockets, gummy bears and lollipops, and skittles and atomic fireballs... It was to be a fabulous evening, a magical evening!

Owen, the miniature Iron Man, raced to the meeting point. Nearly all families of the residential neighborhood had decorated the front porches of their homes with Jack-o-lanterns and cardboard skeletons, enticing trick-or-treaters to ring the doorbell. Marvin was already on the grounds of the park, running around so that the red cape of his Superman outfit flew up in the air.

The third child expected to join the group was a brown boy called Arun who’d emigrated from India. He was the butt of jokes because of his funny accent and general goofiness. When he showed up in a cowboy disguise, Marvin and Owen started laughing.

“Hindu cowboys don’t exist, dothead!” Marvin pointed out. To which, Arun retorted, “Well, Superman and Iron Man don’t exist either!”

“Shuddup.” Kyle said, arriving late.

The three kids studied the costume of their chaperon, trying to figure it out. The teenager wore a black hooded cape and elegant black trousers with medieval designs.

“Err, what are you?” Marvin boldly demanded, adjusting the big glasses on his nose.

“I’m a warlock, dumbass, a male witch...” Kyle snarled. “I can cast spells and do supernatural stuff. Girls dig that…”

“Only Mrs. Westwick is a real witch!” Owen proclaimed.

“Fuck off.” Kyle snapped back, slapping the sassy kid behind the head.

With that, the adventure commenced. The three little boys sprinted door to door asking for candy. Kyle tagged along far behind, obviously embarrassed to be seen with a bunch of eight-year-olds. Everything was going well. The bags of the gang were getting heavy. Of course, they hurled the apples and oranges against trees to gain more space for sweets. Their moms would throw away the fruits anyway, fearing someone had slipped razor blades in them.

As they passed another group of big kids, the little boys lost their chaperon. The sudden absence of supervision provoked the same elation as a successful mutiny. All three of them ran amok, screaming. The little lights in the heels of their sneakers flickered in the night. They darted across the park, glancing at each other, knowing they were heading towards Mrs. Westwick’s house, but uncertain why?

Soon enough, it was there in front of their eyes, Mrs. Westwick’s notorious lair.

The infamous figure was the oldest lady of the community at eighty-years-old. Everyone in town called her the ‘witch’. Once in a while, some mean kids threw eggs in the windows of her house and chanted “Witch! Witch! Come out, ole witch!”

It was true that she fit the profile. The elderly woman lived alone in a three-storied neo-gothic manor with a menagerie of cats, all black. She had a bulbous nose and a gold tooth. The skin of her neck hung loosely like that of a chicken. She never trimmed her long black hair and always dressed as if on her way to a funeral.

Owen felt compassion for the recluse woman. He wished people would respect her privacy. Everyone has secrets. This he could relate to.

As they approached the sinister home, a scarecrow sitting on a rocking chair welcomed them. Its eyes were made of oozing rotten tomatoes. Owen noticed his friends were not as perky anymore. 

“Let’s go! I’m not afraid to ring the doorbell!” he said.

Walking determinately, the little boy advanced all the way to the front door. It opened on its own, creaking. He glanced back, seeing Marvin and Arun standing shyly on the sidewalk. 

“You guys are such wimps!” he shouted.

* * *

   By the time Owen stepped inside Mrs. Westwick’s gloomy house, it was too late to turn back. The door slowly creaked shut behind him. Nobody came to offer him candy. The place seemed like it was frozen in time. There were weird pieces of furniture from the olden days. Also, plenty of nick-nacks and sagging plants supplicating to be saved from the depressing residence.

Owen strolled in the living room, confused by the eerie silence. “Hello?”

Perhaps, he was supposed to walk around to find the candy like at Mr. Harvey’s house? Every year, the burly man transformed his home into a haunted house. Mr. Harvey really liked to scare little children. While they wandered around, he jumped from out of nowhere in a Frankenstein outfit. Then, he chased the screeching kids to pinch their buttocks.

The sound of high-pitched giggles coming from the hallway startled Owen. Leaving his bag at the entrance, he trotted to find the source of the giddiness. It reminded him of many horror movies he had seen in which ghost children spooked their victims that way. That wasn’t enough to unnerve him, nothing less than an axe-wielding maniac could make him pee his pants.

Walking in the hallway, he saw the shadow of a small silhouette going up the wall of the staircase. More soprano giggles crackled in his ears. “Who’s there?” he demanded. “If you’re trying to scare me, it’s not working…”

As he looked up the staircase, the flash of pale skin dashed away. But he had seen him, a kid, slightly older than him, naked. The thrill of the chase accelerated his pulse. He climbed the steps, suddenly excited by the turn of event.

On the second level, the nude boy was idling there on the carpet, grinning. Owen paused, thinking he might frighten him. He scanned the giggling boy with short dark hair and mischievous eyes. The kid’s penis was limp under the bald slope of his pubic mound, its foreskin touching a pair of walnut-sized balls. A crimson red leather collar enclosed his neck.

“My name is Rufus. Do you want to play with me?”  the little boy smiled.

“Yeah, sure!” Owen responded quickly.

“Then, you have to catch me!”

The kid ran up the next staircase leading to the third floor, his bare feet slapping crisply on every step, his firm buttocks dimpling. Owen followed the fleeing child with his eyes. “You can’t be here! This is Mrs Westwick’s home!” he shouted.

“I live here!” the older kid laughed.

“No you don’t!” Owen hurried to catch up with the playful imp. On the third level, two other naked boys crawled on the floor passed him. They sported crimson red collars as well. Two leashes were attached to them and a big boy held the reins, urging the kids to crawl on their hands and knees. “Faster! Move it!” the teenager commanded, his hairy hard-on wagging in front.

Owen’s little eight-year-old ticker pounded harder. Suddenly, the boy who called himself Rufus was behind him, holding his waist, whispering in his ear, “Don’t be scared...”

“I’m not.” Owen lied. The dark-haired boy’s gentle hands travelled sensuously on his belly and his warm mouth brushed against the nape of his neck. “I think you’re cute…” he said.

Owen’s cheeks reddened. No one had ever complimented him in this manner, especially not an older boy like Rufus who was at least eleven. He couldn’t understand what was going on in Mrs. Westwick’s house, but he could tell it was naughty. At this point, he wanted to leave. Strangely, he was unable to convince himself. An odd feeling of well-being numbed his mind as soon as he contemplated defecting, some kind of soothing influx banishing his worries.

Rufus grabbed his hand. “Come and meet my friends,” he said. “We’ll take good care of you.”

* * *

   As he entered the dimly lit room adorned with long burgundy drapes, the nude kids on a fancy king size bed did not acknowledge his presence. There were a dozen older boys, some with hair over their dicks. They were rubbing against each other. Some were slobbering over another boy’s penis, licking it with their frisky pink tongues.

Owen smiled coyly, somewhat proud he had guessed right that they were playing naughty games. Rufus tugged on the waistband of his costume to pull it down. Other giggling kids encircled him. They started to undress him.

Owen allowed them to take off his sneakers and socks. In a flash, he was naked. The swarm of voluptuous slim boys escorted him to the bed, touching him, kissing him, caressing his skin. Being the youngest, his body was the smallest in the pile. He giggled along with the others, his face beaming from the euphoria of spontaneous friendship.

Rufus retrieved two velvet sashes on the floor. Owen didn’t resist when his arms were pulled up and his wrists tied to the posts of the headboard. He was too busy looking between his legs where a boy was doing to him the same thing Marvin often did, playing with his boner. The hand toyed with his balls and pulled on his stiff little penis. He closed his eyes, enjoying the pleasant stimulation. Another boy around twelve was suckling each of his toes, one by one. Another one younger was nibbling his nipples.

For long minutes, he writhed in the ocean of delights. His little body tensed up, overwhelmed by the exquisite assaults seemingly coming from all sides. Incessantly, the unknown boys were making the pleasure rise. But just as the pressure of his impending climax peaked, the big kids ceased to service him. They gazed down at him with evil grins. “Please don’t stop…” Owen begged, out of breath, testing his bounds. “I’ll do it to you too! I swear!”

The boys chuckled hearing his lamentations. Two of them grabbed his ankles and folded his short legs to his chest until his small butt was upturned, pointing at the ceiling. Right away, Rufus leaned over to devour his stiffy. The kid’s head bobbed up and down. Owen glanced between his thighs at the mouth frantically sucking his boyhood. The thin lips gobbled it up to the root and suctioned loudly on the way up.

“Uhhh uhhhhh UHHH!” Owen moaned, taken aback by the intense pleasure of the moist siphoning.

He couldn’t move at all with his wrists secured and the two big kids holding his ankles. Another boy dove between his parted ass cheeks. Owen felt the wet licks around his poop hole. Once in a while, the tongue grazed the middle of his orifice and it puckered. Gradually, the tongue became more aggressive, darting at his anus, forcing its way into the tight ring. Owen writhed again on the mattress, disconcerted that he could enjoy the violation of his most intimate spot.

The oldest boy in the crowd came over and straddled his chest. The big kid had a curtain of dark hair coming down over his eyes. His body was chiseled yet his long arms and long lean legs made him seem troll-like. Owen squirmed seeing the hairy testicles and large hard-on under his nose. It was bigger than Kyle’s. The fat dick was at least eight inches long with a purplish head shaped like a fireman helmet.

“C’mon, put it in your mouth. Suck it,” the teenager said. “I know you want to.”

The little blond boy tentatively cracked his mouth open, accepting the drooling tip. The big sausage pushed into his cavity, stretching his lips. He backed his head away and thrust it forward, mimicking what Rufus was doing to his willy. Having the dick of a big kid in his mouth was so naughty. His eyes looked up at the smiling face of the sixteen-year-old boy.

“Uhhh yess, that’s it. Suck that cock!” the teenager raved. “Take more of it. Yeah, suck that big hard cock!”

Owen tried his best to please the wide piece of flesh crammed into his narrow mouth. Meanwhile, Rufus was still sucking his rigid weenie and the other boy still rudely jabbing his tongue into his poop hole. Despite the fact he had no control over the situation, his mind was at peace. These boys were showing him sex things like he was a big boy. And it was all fun!

After a moment, the teenager exhaled and pulled his dick out. “Yeahhh, that was nice…” he mumbled, rubbing the head on Owen’s lips. “I wanna fuck your lil’ shitter. Okay? I know you want to. You want to, uh?”

The vulgar words conjured up a vague notion of anal intercourse that Owen had heard in the school yard. Almost coming as a surprise to him, he heard himself say, “Yes.”

His small body was flipped over by the mob of boys. Pillows were slipped under his groin to elevate his butt. Owen lay there on the bed amidst the giggling kids, his arms crossed above his golden head. Hands seized his buns and separated them. The teenager’s long tongue repeatedly licked up his crack from the nutbag to the cleft.

“That feels sooooo good!” Owen said.

The tingly sensation was soon replaced with a sharp pain as Owen felt an immense intrusion defeat his sphincter muscle. His body froze. He whimpered realizing the teenager’s hot meaty prick was plunging inside him. Immediately, the big boy began thrusting in and out of his hole, excitedly, forcefully. Owen squealed and squirmed, but the teen was gripping his shoulders, submitting him to the tyranny of his fervor.

“Oh fuck yeah!” the teenager exclaimed. “That’s it. Take that cock in your lil’ tight ass!”

Owen clutched the velvet sashes tied to the headboard. His toes curled with every lunge into his rectum. All he could feel was the heat of his poopy hole, stretched open, clenching the hard flesh. The regal bed squeaked louder as the teenager increased the cadence, driving his erection into his backside.

“Unnnngh! Unnnggh! Pleeeze! Unnnnggghhh!” Owen groaned. He threw glances at the crowd. Some were fiddling with their pecker, watching him getting nailed in the bum. Others were doing the same. In fact, about three couples had formed, one boy on the back of another one, slamming his hard-on into his butt hole. 

Owen relaxed as the pain subsided. He began to enjoy the new feelings inside him. Although the brisk change of atmosphere had shocked him, he didn’t detest the harsh union. In the same way he liked to surrender control to his buddy Marvin, he could appreciate the teenager’s reckless eagerness to be in charge. His dickie was painfully stiff, rubbing against the pillow.

He glanced back, biting his lip, eyeing the teen place both hands on top of the headboard. From then on, his body sprung up and down. The noise of the big boy’s pelvis walloping his small globes resounded with his strident squeals of delight.  He couldn’t grasp anything and just lay there shaken by the sustained butt pounding. It reminded him of the time his dad had spanked him and how much he had loved the trepidation of his bare bottom being smacked.

Now and then, Owen felt the pole leave his guts, affording him a moment to breathe normally. The teen slapped his erection on his buttocks and buried it again into his hole, continuing to ravage him with the same ardor. He didn’t know how long he had been under the big kid? Five minutes? Twenty minutes?

“Fuck!” the teenager screamed suddenly. “OH SHIITT! I’m gonna shoot a load in your lil’ ass!” he added in a regretful tone.

Owen squealed until the last second. The teen spread his buttocks with both hands and shoved his entire dick into his sore poop hole. He heard the grunts of exertion and the moans of relief. The hot baby juice gushed into his bowel. Owen hooted like and owl because his legs were flailing with violent spasms. “Ooohh-Ooohh-Ooooh!” The lightning struck many times. His dickie twitched again and again, every jolt a giant surge of pure pleasure.

* * *

   Owen didn’t remember much of what happened after that. He woke up with Mrs. Westwick’s ugly face three inches from his. “What are you doing here, lil’ boy?” she frowned. “This is my house! Get out!”

The blond boy jumped to his underwear to cover his nudity. “I’m sorry, I I,” he tried to offer a reasonable excuse. While he dressed up feverishly, the old woman continued to ramble with a devious smile, “Whoosh! Out you go! Quicker!”

Owen put his Halloween costume back on and scrambled down the stairs. He picked up the bag of candy he’d left near the front door. In the living room, Mrs. Westwick’s cats had congregated on the couches to bid him farewell. A dozen black balls of fur. They stared at him with their piercing yellow eyes.

Owen couldn’t help but notice the leather collars around their necks.

All of them were crimson red.


THE END     

You can send comments to debonair _atsign_ hushmail.com. Flames are deleted.

If you liked this story, please donate to Nifty.