Pumpkin-Salami (Your Halloween Horror Story)

Author’s note: This story contains sexual material that some readers may consider offensive.


The pumpkins were particularly large this year. It was going to be a bumper crop. Amanda wished she could lop off her own head and replace it with one of the over-sized pumpkins, She would scare the bitches in her frat-house stupid. Especially that cunt Sally. Suddenly, Amanda had an idea. Why hadn’t she thought of it before? She was going to enjoy the Halloween party.
***
On the other side of town, Amanda’s brother Jim stood naked in front on his open refrigerator, He had a stiffy, and a good one at that. But it wasn’t enough. Jim’s penis wasn’t small, but he wished it were bigger. Staring into the fridge, he envied the salami lying on the bottom shelf; it was fat and long, as he wished his penis were. He wished he could just lop off his cock and replace it with the salami. That would scare the girls in the downstairs apartment shitless, before he drove it into their split-peaches. ha ha ha! Pumping. Thrusting. “Take that bitches” he would yell as he drilled them. He was stroking his swollen joystick but stopped abruptly when a thought struck him. He was going to enjoy the Halloween party.
***
Amanda worked the knife with a passion, but fuck!, hollowing out a pumpkin was hard work, and these were monsters. Still, it would be worth it. Ha ha ha ha. She was carving a jack-o-lantern but the hole was at the base instead of the top.
***
Jim decided to forgo a condom and plunged his cock straight into the recess he had made in one end of the salami. It was cold and gross but his erection grew stronger none-the-less and made the salami hold fast. But he knew he couldn’t keep it up all night, so he fashioned a rude belt from a length of twine that would hold the salami in place during the times his penis was flaccid. Standing in front of a mirror, he felt a surge of power as he admired his handiwork: His huge ‘erection’. Oh yeah baby! Ha ha ha ha.
***
The evening star was already in the sky when Jim arrived at Amanda’s house. He got one hell of a fright when she opened the door. It looked like Amanda’s head was a giant pumpkin. And it was. Sort of. “how do you like the costume” Amanda said from inside the pumpkin mask. “Freaky” replied Jim. “Looks like you could give some mean head with that thing on.”

“Don’t be naughty” Amanda laughed. “Hey, where’s your costume?”  

“you’ll see” replied Jim. “You’ll see. Come on. Hey let’s cut across the pumpkin patch on the edge of town. I haven’t been that way in years”

“Well, bugger me backwards with a black-market vegetable; These pumpkins are fuckin’ monsters'” Exclaimed Jim. “Tell me about it. Where do you think I got this one from?” Amanda answered, sitting herself down on one of the boulder-sized vegetables “So brother. I haven’t seen your costume yet. Any chance it has something to do with the rather obvious bulge in your crotch?”.

“Funny you should ask” said Jim unzipping his pants. “Behold!” he shouted. “These pumpkins aren’t the only monsters in town tonight” His Salami stood up proud in front of him as his pants fell to the ground. He stepped out of them and ripped off his underwear too. Soon he was dancing pantless in the pumpkin patch, his balls and salami bouncing up and down as Amanda laughed so hard it was a struggle not to wet herself. 

“Wow that’s the biggest one I’ve ever seen. What a pity it isn’t real” Amanda said between laughs.

“Ah but does it scare you, my dear?” taunted Jim 

“Surely does. Even with my giant head”

“Speaking of which, I believe my wanger is big enough for your slutty pumpkin mouth” Jim laughed. Without another word he pranced over to where Amanda sat and pushed the end of his salami through the gaping maw of his sister’s pumpkin mask.

“Cmon. Give me pumpkin-head” he laughed.

“Augh, Jim you devil!” She screeched. “That thing is so gross!”

“How about I take it off then” He said quietly “And you can remove your mask. We’ll still have plenty of time to make the party.”

“Fuck off Jim. I’m your sister”

“Yes. And you’ve always wanted to do this”

She looked at Jim silently for a long moment.

“It’s wrong” she whispered. Her cheeks were flushed and she was breathing heavily. The pumpkins appeared to be glowing gently.

“You want it though”

Amanda could feel herself tremble. An intense primitive urge, the likes oh which she had never known before was burning inside of her. Her chest felt tight and there was a lump in her throat.

“Yes”

“Stop right there!” Crowed a haggard voice from the pumpkin patch. Jim and Amanda suddenly lost all interest in each other and and spun around, to see a woman in a witches costume slowly making her way towards them. It was a well-done costume, with all the witchy-trappings: pointy-hat, magic-broomstick with a live black cat. It was a little unnerving that she appeared to be gliding above the ground. Jim figured she must have a motorised dolly beneath her skirt, though if there were, it was silent. “Well, well, well” the witch said slowly. “if it isn’t the old blow-your-brother-in-the-pumpkin-patch routine. You wouldn’t believe how many times …”

“This is none of your fucking business” Amanda snapped

“No.” Said the witch. “Doesn’t bother me if you fuck your brother. But you are trespassing on a witches pumpkin-patch on Halloween. I do care about that, and it most certainly is my business” 

“Cut the crap bitch” said Jim. “You’re just some stupid slut dressed up in a costume. Fuck off before we stuff one of these pumpkins up your cunt”

The witch sighed. “You know, the costume is ridiculous, but I have to wear it on Halloween, it’s traditional. Here, let me show you another tradition”. The witch pointed her finger at one of the pumpkins. Her finger appeared to glow purple for a moment and then the pumpkin exploded in a ball of smoke, throwing orange chunks of vegetable flesh in all directions. The smoke cleared and then, where the pumpkin had been, sat a rather bewildered looking frog. “Yep the classic turn-em-into-a-toad routine” cackled the witch. “Forgive my self-indulgence but that one never grows old. Now, are you believing yet?” Jim’s jaw and salami both hung loosely while Amanda sat motionless, piss running freely between her legs spoiling her dress and the pumpkin she sat upon. The cat scratched it’s neck with a hind leg. Jim noticed for the first time that they were completely surrounded by pumpkins. Whatever path they had walked here had vanished. The pumpkins nearest them were merely rocks and boulders, but those further away were as big as houses. Beyond that dark shapes the size of mountains were faintly discernible through an orange mist. “No where to run” spoke the witch matter-of-factly. The cat had discovered a mouse and was now carefully dissecting it at Amanda’s feet.

“Time’s a wasting” said the witch. “Let’s get on with a curse, so I can get home in time to watch ‘the-money or the cauldron’. Amanda, that pumpkin head is becoming to you, so now you are becoming the pumpkin”. Amanda gasped as she felt her head and the pumpkin fuse together. The pumpkins eyes were now her eyes and the pumpkin mouth was now her mouth. She screamed. Really loud. “Yeah, it’s a bit weird at first, but you’ll get used to it soon enough” said the witch. “Now Jim, same idea for you. ‘Hocus-pocus, salami-focus.’ Jim’s penis was now the size (and colour) of the salami he had been wearing. His erection swelled again and soon raged like that of a stallion. “Fuckin awesome” He shouted, breaking into a stupid grin. “Right, follow me” said the witch. “I’ve made a place for you two” There was no apparent alternative so they followed the witch into the depths of the patch, treading a path they had never seen before. Small jack-o-patterns on tiny legs scurried along in front and behind lighting the way. One squealed when the cat pounced on it. “Behave yourself” snapped the witch. She flicked her hand as if swatting an insect and a small broom materialised in mid-air swatting the cat off of the poor little lantern. The indignant lantern made a rude gesture at the cat before rejoining the caravan. They soon came to a house made from a gigantic jack-o-lantern. The mouth served as an entryway and the witch motioned that they should enter. “Make yourself comfortable my dears. That cock is the perfect size for that mouth so get sucking. You’ll be doing it every night for all eternity. Have fun”. And with that the witch was gone. There was no furniture, but the pumpkin floor was surprisingly comfortable so they laid down on the floor and hugged each other. Trying to make sense of what had happened. “This is a dream, right?” Said Jim. They knew it wasn’t. Soon it was full dark and they could see a full-moon through one of the lantern’s eye-holes. “It’s blue” whispered Amanda. “How beautiful”. Soon, Jim felt his sister taking his giant penis into her giant pumpkin mouth, for real this time, teasing him with her tongue. They locked eyes for a second and then gave in to their cursed love.

“Fucking perverts” muttered the witch. She covered her crystal-ball with a cloth and went to bed.


© Grumpy Axolotl

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The most Exciting Thing all Week

So I’ve been looking out my window. But that doesn’t necessarily mean I’m a pervert; lots of people look out of windows. Don’t you judge me! It’s interesting what we focus on. Maybe it’s a case of small things amusing small minds. In this instance I’m looking at a small bird: An Eurasian blackbird, to be precise. And this particular specimen is stone-cold fucking dead. Bird has been dead for 2 weeks now. In that time, Bird has undergone a significant transformation, but let us back up a step. <rewind>

The first week was dead boring. A biologist would tell you that there was a lot going on under the hood – so to speak, but from my perspective the bird simply flopped around a bit as the wind dictated. So anyway, Bird looked just as birds do (sans animation) for about a week. 

In the 2nd week, the maggots became visible. Masticating meat-house maggots, merrily munching away. I love how nature cleans up after itself. I know maggots aren’t everyone’s idea of a good time, and I wouldn’t invite them in for tea and scones but the cycle of life is an endless wonder. Yesterday the carcass collapsed in the rain. It looks a bit disgusting but this is where the real fun starts. 

There exists a sparrow (one of millions) that is visiting dead-bird, and eating the maggots that are eating aforementioned dead-bird. Bird eats maggot eats bird. Different species of bird, but it’s almost cannibalism-by-proxy. The sparrow works tirelessly, returning every few minutes to gobble more maggots, no doubt whisking the little wrigglers back to the nest to feed the next generation of hungry beaks. 

The story ends there, but this whole scenario reminds me how simple it is.


(C) Grumpy Axolotl

Pies.

Guest post by Linda G.


Ben was every woman’s dream, with his blue eyes, copper hair, and straight white teeth. Strong but gentle. Confident and in control, whether commanding the boardroom or the bedroom. And he was mine. Mine! … Until my best friend Kelly stole him. For days I cried and cried. I felt angry and betrayed. Kelly and I had been friends since 1st grade. After a couple of months I wondered if I should bury the hatchet, but then I heard that they were getting married and I totally flipped my wig. Now I wanted nothing but revenge. Revenge!

Kelly was hesitant at first, but I assured her that I was over Ben and wanted to maintain our friendship and invited them both over for some of my homemade steak and kidney pies. When she and Ben walked into my house, my heart burned so that I thought my chest would burst, but I kept my cool and choked down the emotions. Ben and Kelly loved the pie and I was seething inside when I saw how much they loved each other. As we wished each other goodnight I promised more pie in the future.

A few days later Kelly rang frantically “Ben’s gone. Missing. Totally disappeared. He hasn’t answered my calls for 2 days.” I hurried over to her house and wrapped my arms around her as she sobbed on her living room floor. “I should call the police.” she said. “No.” I reasoned with her “You know Ben is often called away on important meetings. He’s probably lost his phone. Give it until tomorrow. In the meantime, you can have some of the fresh pork pies I just made.” So that afternoon, I dropped off a box of pies to a tearful Kelly, assuring her I’d check back in the morning. “Enjoy your Big-Ben Pork Pies, you bitch.” I thought to myself as I high-tailed it to the city’s international airport.

My First Little Apocalypse

Prompt: Worst Case Scenario

In defiance of orders to maintain a strictly professional manner, the nurses frantically rode the few remaining patients. Outside, hideous dogs with bulging eyes ran crazed circles on the scorched lawn, howling in terror at the remnants of stars still swirling in the purple night-sky.

Sheltered under a bridge that crossed the swollen river, Larry wrung his shaking hands in a mixture of fear and anger. What had come to pass so far was diabolical enough. The looting and rioting that would surely follow was not going to improve matters.

The rising water was already lapping at his boots.  He had to move. “Pull yourself together man, you’re a knight”, Larry reminded himself. “A disgraced knight, but a knight still. It’s time to redeem yourself”. Larry crawled out from his cover and instinctively scanned the surrounds quickly, checking for any danger before standing upright. The naked body of a headless woman floating past was a vivid declaration that law-and-order had already ceased. “Sir” Larry was on his own.

It was an hour before dawn and things would only get worse come daylight. Reaching the crest of the enbankment, Larry stopped for a moment at the sight of the burning city, his few tears hidden by the wind and rain. “Sir Larry” he reminded himself. He drew his sword, and marched towards whatever fate was in store.


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Toast! – A short Horror Story

After years of bread, the toaster hungers for human flesh. No longer content with the burnt crumbs of wholegrains, the toaster wants meat.

There are three potential victims in this quiet suburban household: Bernard, Linda, and their daughter – Sally. Bernard would make a good-size meal but will not be easy. Wily to the ways of appliances, and not overly partial to toast, he is a long shot at best. Linda, on the other hand, makes toast every morning, but she is no fool. There are no flies on her in the morning and, being the smartest of the household, she will be the hardest to seduce and subdue. Then there is Sally; Sally, at 7 years of age is healthy, innocent and, through the eyes of a blood-thirsty toaster, positively drool-worthy. Yes, it will be the girl – and it will be all too easy. Simple appliances make simple plans. Success favours simplicity. Now it’s only a matter of time.

It happens one Saturday morning. Cartoons are on the TV so Sally is up bright and early while her parents doze. Sally wants toast. Perfect. Alone in the kitchen, she is vulnerable… and the toaster knows it. Sally approaches the toaster clutching a slice of heart-healthy wholegrain in each paw. The toaster can hardly bear the suspense but restraint is needed. Patience. Play it cool. Things will heat up soon enough. The toaster gracefully accepts Sally’s offering and settles into the familiar routine. The filament heats up and begins to work it’s magic on the bread as Sally sets the jug boiling and roots around in the cupboard for the Milo. After a few short minutes, Sally is watching the toaster in anticipation of the “kerchung!”, holding the butter-knife loosely in her young fingers, unaware that she is not the only one hungry.

The toaster tightens its grip on the bread and the first grey tendrils of smoke shoot towards the ceiling. The jug rumbles into its roaring steamy climax with immaculate timing, as if sounding a prescient warning. Black smoke now. The piercing shriek of the smoke-alarm splits the air. Sally panics and, still holding the butter-knife, shakes the toaster hard. YES. She’s fallen for it. Time to strike! The waiting has paid off. It’s all or nothing and the toaster is insane in its carnivorous desire. Come on Sally, come get your toast Sally. There’s a good girl, use your knife. I want meat Sally. Human-meat. Stick your knife in. Come in and get your toast. I’ve got 240 volts just for you Sally. I’ll fry your flesh. Meat, meat, yummy-yummy. I’ll sizzle your sausages. MEAT! Use the knife, Come on, use your knife you little bitch. MEAT! Do it.
NO! – not the power-swi…
click!