[Musing] Daddy's Gift

[pre-story]Almost a full year since the first part came out, the story suddenly continues for Father's Day! [redacted][/pre-story]

Cynthia bit her lip, her heart thudding in her chest as Daddy lined his big fat black cock up with her tight little teenage pussy, Mommy’s fingers spreading her ebony lips to reveal the glistening pink within. “Happy Father’s day, sweetie” Mommy purred, and then Daddy thrust his hips forward, and Cynthia moaned aloud.

Musing: Halloween at the Johnson's- Part 2

 Halloween at the Johnsons’, Part 2 Before her father could muster a response, Sam flourished with her Indigo cloak, stepping to the side just as another figure emerged from the darkness into the pool of light on the front porch. Aiko’s identity was immediately obvious, and not just because her black domino mask did almost nothing to hide her face. Her hair was, admittedly, hidden beneath a wig of short black hair spiked up and back, but there was no mistaking the short girl on his doorstep for anyone else.

Musing: Halloween at the Johnson's- Part 1

[pre-story]Just a little peek at what Mr. Johnson and the girls get up to on halloween. [redacted][/pre-story]

“uUUURRN~!”
A deep, angry groan echoed from inside the house. Heavy, ponderous footfalls sounded, drawing closer and closer with every thud. The door suddenly flew open, a massive figure looming in the threshold, a flash of light illuminating its pallid, scarred features, the deep rumble of thunder following swiftly after. It stared down at the children before it from beneath a heavy brow marred by an oozing horizontal gash, held together by dozens of heavy-duty staples. An inhuman rage flashed in in its sunken, staring eyes. The filthy suit hanging off its hulking frame was in tatters, the sleeves shredded to ragged strips around the monster’s powerful limbs. The creature moved stiffly, awkwardly, sections of its immense frame seemingly held together by nothing more than bands of crude stitching. The heavy iron bolt driven through its thick neck shifted as it moved suddenly, lurching forward and reaching towards the young ones before it. “UHRRRRRHHH!” It bellowed furiously.

“Trick or treat!” the trio of children chorused with practiced, saccharine tones. They dug their hands into the bowl the monster clutched, pulling away a moment later clutching greedy, overflowing handfuls of candy, so large they could barely hold together long enough make it into the pillowcases the children carried. Their prizes secure, the children turned and ran off across the lawn toward their next target, dodging the tombstones sticking out of the grass. As they stepped out of the area of the porch light, one childish voice remarked casually, just loud enough for his words to carry to the door. “Who’s supposed to be afraid of Frankenstein, anyways? Babies?”