Trick or Treat

Copyright © October 2021 by CiaoSteve

CiaoSteve reserves the right to be identified as the author of this work. This story cannot be published, as a whole or in part, without the express agreement of the author other than the use of brief extracts as part of a story review.

This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons. It goes without saying that all sexually active characters in this story are over 18

Author's Notes

This is an entry for the 2021 Halloween Contest. I hope you enjoy and would appreciate your votes and comments.

Please note that this story contains elements of light bondage (restraints) and voyeurism, alongside the main non-human theme.

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It was a normal suburban cul-de-sac. A mix of houses, detached and semis, lined most of the road. The exception was towards the far end, where a play area stood in front of a patch of woodland. Most had lived there since the road had been built, some twenty or so years back, tending to their picture-postcard front gardens. If a house came up for sale, it was usually snapped up in an instant, such was the appeal of this little street. It was safe. It was friendly. You could say that nothing out of the ordinary ever happened on Jubilee Drive.

Well, that held true all bar one day of the year, and this was just that one day.

The near full moon, seemingly larger than normal, cast a silvery glow into the darkness, adding ghostly highlights to the autumn clouds. Down below they gathered, groups walking from house to house, appearing under the glow of the streetlights before fading back into the dark once more. It was that day, that single day, the day when they all came out to play.

Everywhere you looked, they were there: ghosts and ghouls, wizards, and warlocks, even the odd mummy or skeleton. The eerie goings-on had started just as the sun went down. At first it was tiny tots, with parents in tow, making their way from house to house, a hopeful look on their face as they held out a basket to be filled with treats. As time went on, and evening became night, the parents disappeared, but still those creatures of the night continued to pay a visit. They became older, the costumes became more creative, but always the greeting was the same.

House by house, they would knock, waiting for the door to be answered. Then in unison, they would utter those three little words.

"Trick or treat?"

It may have been unusual, you could say it was out of the ordinary, but it was by no means untoward. It was difficult to tell who got most enjoyment from these evening pastimes, those asking, or those making out to be scared by the would-be mythical creatures before sending them on their way with a handful of sweets.

Not everyone on Jubilee Drive was joining in the fun. In the shadows, close to that patch of woodland, a stranger stood watching. No one took any notice. No one stopped to ask what she was doing, or why she was there. To the occupants of Jubilee Drive, the stranger might as well have been invisible.

Had you paid attention though, you would have remembered the young woman--she looked to be late twenties--as she did stand out from the others on that street, on that Halloween.

Was it her appearance? Was it the costume she decided to wear? Not really. The young woman might well have been heading out for a night on the town. She was tall and slim, and unperturbed by the fact that this was late autumn. A white blouse did its best to hide her pert little mounds, the faintest outline of a strappy black bra visible underneath. Down below, a short black leather skirt, fishnet stockings, and matching ankle boots accentuated her perfectly slender long legs. The outfit was unusual, for Halloween, but not remarkable.

What was it, then? What really made the young woman stand out? Was it her long straight black hair, glossy locks cascading down across her shoulders? Was it her choice of lipstick, a deep warm red? Was it those piercing blue eyes that followed your every step, boring deep into your soul as if searching for something?

Then there was her skin tone. Maybe it was the effect of that silvery moonlight, but the young woman did have the palest of complexions. It wasn't even the coldest of October nights, so her pallor couldn't be blamed on the chill autumn air alone.

If you had paid attention, you would surely have noticed the young woman, but nobody did. It was her intention to blend into the background, to go unnoticed, to convince everyone she wasn't there. She had done such a good job that she might as well have been invisible. It wasn't exactly difficult though. The human mind was so easy to manipulate. Say the right thing, project the right image, and you could have people seeing, or in this case not seeing, anything you wanted. It was the simplest of spells.

So why was a young woman loitering in the shadows, simply watching the goings on? What was she up to? What was she looking for? What was she intending to do?

She? Her name was Mona. Her parents had named her Desdemona, Desdemona Lisa Bellamonte, but she chose to go by Mona... Mona Lisa... and her smile was much less enigmatic than the famous portrait which shared her chosen name. Mona had a compelling smile, an intriguing smile, a most enchanting smile. She was from out of town, as they always were. This was their night, you see... their chance to have a little fun without being noticed. Who, on Halloween, would blink twice at another witch, walking around the neighbourhood, knocking on doors, uttering those three little words?

"Trick or treat?"

The only question was which door to go knocking on. That is why she stood there in the shadows, watching. Halloween was the one night when all could have their little piece of fun, from the youngest kids, to those old enough to know better, and even those who were true to the meaning of that very day. It was just a case of choosing.

Who would be the lucky one? Who would have the delights of an extra visitor this hallows eve?

It was like a game of front door lotto. In her mind, Mona crossed off the numbers one by one. The elderly, families, obvious couples, all disappeared from her list. One house though stood out more than the others, or more to the point, the buxom blonde who answered the door stood out.

This homeowner was going through the motions, playing lip service to the young kids, but it was so obvious she wanted to be somewhere else. She would smile. She would offer out a basket full of sweet treats, yet you knew her mind was elsewhere. Was it the speed with which she would usher on her visitors, children who had spent so long making themselves look half decent? Was it the increasing frustration she showed with every new caller?

Mona smiled to herself. This was the one night when all could have their moment of fun, and this one witch suddenly had her mind made up. She counted down the houses. Number seventy-five was the one. It was a small, detached house set back slightly from the road. As a house, it was nothing special. There wasn't even a pumpkin lighting up the doorstep.

Would this buxom blonde be able to tell a real witch from all the wannabees? Those were the best... the ones who didn't believe or didn't want to partake. She just loved the reaction when she came a knocking.

All Mona needed was for the street to drop quiet.

By seven, the rush hour was ending. There were still the odd groups of teenagers chancing their arms, but they were few and far between. Confidently, Mona stepped out of the shadows, at the same time throwing off her invisibility spell. There were few around to notice her, not as she strode down Jubilee Drive, nor as she paused at the end of a brick paved driveway, nor as she walked up to the front door. A large gold '75', stood out at the side of the glossy white door.

There was a bell. Mona pressed it once and listened to the chimes in the distance. She waited. There was no response. The ground floor was dark, with the only light coming from an upstairs window. She pressed the bell for a second time, once again listening to the most cringeworthy tones coming from inside. Still there was no response. A third time had barely ended when Mona hit the button once more, then again, then...

Finally, there was movement. A light was switched on downstairs. Through the glass panel in the door, Mona could see a blurry figure walking towards her. Still though, Mona couldn't resist ringing the bell one last time, as if intentionally being annoying.

"Yes? Yes? Where's the fire?" came an almost furious response, as the door was opened.

The homeowner stood there, staring out at Mona. She was a few inches shorter than her unwanted visitor, and of fuller build. Fat? No, by no means was she fat, she just exuded the most naturally sexy curves...

This woman was endowed with large thighs, wide hips, and a bust which made Mona's small mounds look minute. Mona guessed from her appearance that the blonde was a good ten or more years older, but, dressed in tight jeans and a baggy jumper, there was something attractive about this older woman.

If only her welcoming charm had the same appeal as her ample figure.

Mona stood there, staring at the blonde. Yes, buxom was the right word... buxom and feisty in equal measure. This one would be fun, she thought.

"Trick or treat?" Mona asked, smiling.

The look on the blonde's face said it all. Her flat-line mouth, and hands on hips, said she was not amused.

"What?" the blonde snapped back.

"Trick or treat?" Mona repeated.

The expression on the blonde's face went from one of frustration to a mix of both confusion and amusement. It was her time to smile as she tried to understand why an adult stranger, dressed for the night on the town, was standing here on her doorstep. If she really thought it was wise to go trick or treating at her age, then shouldn't she have at least dressed up for the occasion?

"Did I hear you right? Aren't you a bit old to be trick or treating? And... what are you bloody well meant to be anyway? Kids... okay... even they dress up... but you?"

"Oh... yes..." Mona started to reply.

It was the question she loved to answer, as they never believed her anyway. That's where the fun started, convincing the unsuspecting that she was what she said.

"... I'm a witch," Mona continued. "So... what will it be? Trick or treat?"

"A witch? You're having a bloody laugh," the blonde responded, not sure how to take the stranger on her doorstep. "Well, you've had your fun, so I suggest you get on your way... oh, and next time... if you really want to go trick or treating, then at least dress up like the bloody witch you claim to be."

Mona simply smiled. She turned to leave, before taking one last glance back at the buxom blonde. This one, Mona thought to herself, could really do with taking down a peg or two. It would be such fun to be the one to do it.

"Oh, but I am a witch," Mona commented, stressing the am in her sentence. "Do you really want me to prove it to you?"

"Nice try... but you're no more a witch than I am bloody Harry Potter. Now, if you don't mind... I need to be getting ready."

"Going somewhere?" Mona asked, intrigued by the last comment.

"No... no... actually got people coming around," the blonde backtracked, suddenly feeling she had given a little too much away. "He'll be here soon."

It wasn't a lie as her boyfriend was due in an hour or so, the two of them having tickets to a Halloween party.

"Then I'll bid you farewell. I guess I'll have to find some other way to convince you I am truly a witch."

With that, Mona headed back down the driveway. She heard the door close behind her but didn't stop. Instead, the young witch headed back into the shadows and waited, watching. The downstairs light went out, leaving only the one upstairs to show that the house was occupied. Mona noticed the woman glancing out from the bedroom window, making sure she was once again alone, before closing the curtains.

It was time, Mona thought to herself, time to have some fun with the unsuspecting blonde.

From her standing place, Mona glanced up and down the road. It was quiet. At the far end of the street there were the last of the fake ghosts and ghouls, but nobody else.

Slowly, careful not to make a sound, Mona crept back up the driveway. She stood in front of that white door, where moments earlier she had been addressing her would-be host for the evening. It was dark inside, the light from the upstairs room barely illuminating the downstairs hallway.

Mona didn't need to try the handle to know that the door would be locked. Nobody in their right mind would leave an open invitation to a witch, not even one dressed up like a sexy party girl. Nobody in their right mind would believe there could even be a witch on their doorstep. Nobody in their right mind would think a locked door could so easily be...

Muttering under her breath, her words unintelligible, Mona stared at the door. She focused on the wooden barrier, her eyes taking on a subtle redness. As she stared at the door, cloudy images started to form in her mind. Bit by bit, the images started to clear. Before long, Mona could make out both the lock and the chain on the inside of the door.

She brought her hands up, reaching out towards the door at the same level as the chain. Mona curled her fingers into the most pained claw-like posture, reaching out towards a hidden target. From anyone seeing, it looked like the young woman was partaking in the most unusual, almost agonising, form of Tai Chi. Moving items was easy when they were in her line of sight, but they took much more effort when hidden away, and even more so when there was several inches of solid wood in the way.

Screwing her eyes almost shut, Mona focused her inner thoughts through her hand. Her eyes took on a more noticeable, brighter red colour. Her hand started to shake, just a little, as if straining to move against an unseen object. She focused deeper, the redness in her eyes intensifying further, her knuckles turning white from the pressure she was putting through her fingers.

Then it happened. To anyone watching, it was a slow, strained movement as Mona dragged her hand from right to left, from the edge of the door to the centre. Unbeknown to anyone watching, the focus of her attention was also moving. Little by little, on the inside of the door, the metal chain slid along its runner, its movement jerky but definite. With a final flurry, Mona thrust her hand forward, and the chain dropped free.

She turned her attention to the lock itself, once again taking her rigid focused position, her hand now higher up the door front. It was a repeat of before, Mona muttering incantations to herself, her eyes glowing red, her hand straining in its pained grip. There was a flick of one finger, a tiny movement almost undiscernible but sufficient to nudge the catch on the inside of the lock from closed to open.

Mona's eyes were flame red as she started to twist her hand, her fingers now deathly white as she struggled against the stiffness of the knob itself. Slowly it moved, the knob twisting bit by bit in the grip of an invisible hand. Mona focussed harder, her hand visibly shaking as she strained to pull against the hidden knob. Finally, with a click, the door sprung open.

For a moment Mona stood there. Her eyes returned from red to blue. Her hand lost its ashen pallor as blood started to flow once more. Once more it was the human appearance of a young woman who took a step inside, pulling the door gently closed behind her.

Mona stood in the shadows of the hallway. The only light was a dim yellow glow, seeping down the stairwell from an upstairs bedroom. It was enough though for Mona to make out her surroundings. There was a coat rack against one wall, with a low table underneath, a pile of letters sitting unopened on top. Mona glanced down at the letters. In the dim light she could still make out the name.

It was always nice to have a name. It just made things all that more personal.

Cummings was her name, Ms Jessica Cummings to be precise. Mona already had her mind set, this one was sure to be a Jess rather than a Jessica--she just didn't look the 'Jessica' type, and most definitely hadn't addressed her in the way a 'Jessica' would have done.

Deeper in the house, somewhere upstairs, Mona could hear running water. She guessed her host, or maybe she should now start to call her by her name, Jess, was being truthful about having to get ready.

How long had Jess said? About an hour? Oh yes, that would be time a-plenty to teach the feisty Jess that not all witches wore pointy hats, rode a broom, or came with a black cat.

Without making a noise, Mona crept up the stairs, all the time heading towards that single illuminated room.

Mona stood outside an almost closed door, golden light seeping out from within, listening for a moment. She could hear singing coming from inside, albeit somewhere in the distance. For a second time that evening it was time to become invisible, at least invisible to the human mind.

Mona muttered another incantation to herself, then slowly eased the door open a little. She peered into the bedroom. As expected, it was empty, the soft female voice coming from what must have been an en suite bathroom off to one side. Mona walked into the bedroom and pushed the door closed behind her.

It was a bedroom alright, and quite a nice one at that. Mona couldn't help but have a good look around. There was something satisfying about seeing how others lived. The bed itself, a king-sized beast with chunky wooden frame, dominated the space. To the left was a window, the curtains drawn against the dark outside, a large dressing table and mirror sitting in front. A pair of wardrobes lined the wall opposite the window. The free wall, at the foot of the bed held a wall-mounted TV above a low padded ottoman.

Mona sat on the ottoman, just inside the doorway. She was still busy having a good look around, this time staring at the clothes dotted around the room.

Jess had been right about getting changed. Her jeans and pullover lay in a heap on the floor close to that side door. What caught Mona's eye though was the new, surprisingly sexy, outfit spread around the bedroom.

There was a pair of strappy black knickers, the fabric so skimpy it wouldn't leave much to the imagination, a matching quarter cup bra, sheer black stockings and garter belt laid out on the bed itself.

A bright red dress, barely long enough to cover the gap between stocking top and panties, with a tight body, three quarter length sleeves and full flared skirt, hung over the back of the dressing table chair. A pair of shiny black, high-heeled, leather boots stood on the floor beneath. Mona noticed the bright red devilish horns and matching trident sitting on the dressing table, a matching shade of lipstick standing to the side.

Mona smiled. Oh, you dirty little thing, she thought to herself as she imagined the transformation between ordinary woman and sexy devil.

This was one woman out to make an impression. Was that her idea? Was Jessica, or even Jess, intent on putting herself out there? Was her mind set on getting a little action tonight?

In that moment, Mona's mind was made up. Jessica Cummings was not as innocent as she appeared to be. She was feisty, she was downright rude, but she was obviously a woman full of desires... sultry, carnal desires.

Whoever was coming around was going to get one hell of a pleasant surprise. Cummings by name and--Mona laughed at her humour--cummings by nature. If Jess didn't get some action before the night was out, then Mona wasn't the sexiest witch in town. What though? What if---oh yes, that would be so naughty, yet so nice--what if Mona helped Jess get ready for her action-packed evening?