How Not To Decorate For A Party | |||||||||
by Lobo De la Sombra | |||||||||
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© Copyright 2013 - Lobo De la Sombra - Used by permission | |||||||||
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How Not To Decorate For A Party Lobo De la Sombra F/fff; house; dungeon; majick; mc; rack; chains; shackles; x-frame; stocks; transform; lovedolls; display; cons/reluct; X | |||||||||
About a mile outside town, set alone atop a wooded hill, stood a haunted house. Everyone knew it was haunted, just as everyone knew that people had gone there before and never been seen again. Nobody actually knew anyone who had vanished there, but everyone knew it had happened. Which is why Gwen’s friends were shocked when she announced that she was going to “set the place up” for some friends visiting from out of town. “Are you crazy?” asked Stephanie, a tall, petite redhead. “You know about that place.” “I’ve heard about it, yes,” Gwen replied, fluffing out her long raven hair. “Ever since I moved here three months ago. Old house, last used by a couple suspected of practicing black magic. Couple vanishes without a trace, now house is haunted. Did I miss anything?” “How about the people who’ve gone up there and never come back?” asked Brenda, an unusually large breasted Asian girl. “Do you know anyone who’s gone there? I mean, actually know?” “Well, um, no,” Brenda replied. “But that’s only because nobody’s been dumb enough to go up there in a long time.” “I was up there yesterday,” Gwen stated. “You were what?” Sheila, a statuesque blonde, was shocked. “You heard me. It’s a lovely old house. And it’s still furnished. Perfect for setting up a little spook show for my friends while they’re here.” “Gwen,” Stephanie pleaded, “you can’t seriously be considering this.” “I am. And you three are going to help me.” The three friends protested loudly, but, eventually, reluctantly, agreed to help. They arranged to meet at the old house the next evening. “Great,” smiled Gwen. “I’ll have everything ready. Dress comfortable, ladies, we’re going to be busy.” Next evening, the four young ladies met at the front door of the old house. “This place gives me the creeps,” Brenda said, shivering slightly. “It’ll be fine,” Gwen replied encouragingly. “Let’s get started. Opening the door, she led her three friends inside. “I’ve got everything set up in the basement,” she said. “I just need your help getting the final props in place.” The basement, her friends discovered, was made up as a very realistic looking dungeon, with various forms of restraint scattered around. A rack and a set of stocks dominated the center of the room, along with what looked like an angled cross. “I don’t understand,” Sheila said, glancing around. “Everything looks like it’s already done. What’s missing?” Gwen smiled. “Isn’t it obvious? What’s a dungeon without victims?” “This isn’t funny, Gwen,” said Stephanie. “I’m leaving” She turned to go, then froze as the strangest sensation filled her. It was almost like someone else was inside her mind with her. She tried to speak, only to discover that she could no longer control her body. The others watched as she turned back toward them, a blank look on her face. “On second thought,” she said, speaking a bit unsteadily, “I think I’ll stay.” As the others watched, she slowly removed her clothing. Naked, she lay on the rack, stretching her hands and feet toward the restraining cuffs at either end. To the others’ surprise, the cuffs leaped out to close around her wrists and ankles, then retracted, holding her tightly stretched. Almost as soon as the cuffs were fastened, the blank look left her face. “What’s going on? How did I get here?” Shocked, she began to struggle. She looked toward her friends for help, freezing when she saw the blank looks on the faces of Brenda and Sheila. Only Gwen seemed aware of what was going on around her. “Gwen, please, this isn’t funny. Let me out.” Gwen only smiled. Next, Sheila stepped over to the cross. Removing her clothes, she stood with her back to the cross, arms and legs spread. Again, the attached cuffs moved on their own, encircling wrists and ankles, to hold her firmly in place. “My turn,” said Brenda, removing her own clothing. Naked, she stepped to the stocks, slowly lifting the top. She moved to lean into the device, then stopped. Straightening, she grabbed something which looked rather like a portable stock, attaching it near the base. Seemingly satisfied, Brenda opened the lower stock and slipped her feet into the openings, then leaned into the upper part. Both sections immediately closed, holding her securely. Gwen looked at her three friends, now so securely held. All three were begging her to let them go, but that wasn’t quite what she had in mind. “Nicely done,” she said. “Only one more thing to do.” Gwen stepped between the three captives, then began to speak words that made absolutely no sense to the others. The words’ effects, however, soon became plain. Brenda and Sheila stared helplessly at Stephanie, watching as a sheen began to grow on her skin. Her body stiffened slightly, and an anatomically perfect love doll lay bound to the rack. The other two soon shared her fate. Gwen moved slowly between the three bound dolls, now and then stroking one softly on breast or thigh. “Don’t worry, girls,” she said, “the change isn’t permanent, and you’ll remember none of this afterwards. And I do promise, I will change you back when we’re done with you. Maybe.” Moving away from the helpless dolls, Gwen stepped to the back of the room. There, two glowing orbs took shape. Gwen looked at the orbs and smiled. “Did I do good, Grandpa?”
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30.10.12 | |||||||||
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