Free Blaze (Halloween's Forbidden Lust) by Alexia Stark Page A

through.
    The red light didn’t illuminate the room very well, and she knew he’d have the front rigged with the fogger, and thick fog would swirl about people’s knees as they wandered in. The ticker in the first room held the list of requirements and was as tight as a public phone booth.
    Her eyes strayed to rule three; one at a time .
    That one usually did people in. After all, noting is as scary with a friend. She pushed forward into the first room, flinching at the realistic bodies tightly wrapped in white cloth and hung with barbed wire. Soft whispers chanted, but she couldn’t make out the words even as the sounds grew louder.
    With a shiver, she moved forward. The second room was comprised of a tight space with dried bodies that reminded her of the Pompeii plaster remains surrounding her so tight she had to turn sideways to not touch any of them. Judging by the rot stench, he’d gone so far as to get a bucket of something filthy to add to the realism, and she made a mental note to chide him. Mummified bodies wouldn’t have that foul reek of death.
    Closing her eyes, she considered backing out. Tight spaces were easily her undoing. With a few deep breaths and a silent curse at her slamming heart, she pushed forward into a slightly more open hall. She recognized this one, and knew he’d gotten more help than just her this year. She glanced up, seeing the spot where some guy, likely with a chainsaw in hand, would drop and chase some poor person through this scene.
    True to form, she sprinted, though nothing dropped behind her. The forced turn was eerily lit, and she waited, muscles tensed, waiting for whatever terrifying thing would pop out at her. With a glance around, she noticed the strobe light and walked over to it. Noticing it was plugged in, she made her way forward, knowing she needed to tell him something was up with it. Past the turn, she came into their room. Her stage was set, the light was darker red and more threatening.
    She made her way to the stage, bending over the hip-level wood to slap the trapdoor she would pop out of. “Fuck yes,” she grunted, a smile creeping over her face. The door was invisible in the light, and she knew she’d make people jump, even though she wasn’t the main scare in the room.
    A snarling voice startled her. “I told you to wear something else.”
    With her top half still resting on the stage, she glanced over her shoulder. “And I told you I’m not jail bait anymore. People can look.”
    The flowing robes were even more terrifying in the deep red light. Before she could blink, his body pinned her against the wood, and she gasped. His hand smacked her thigh, then slid up her leg toward her ass.
    With a whimper, she spoke. “Wha- what are you doing?”
    “Shut up.” His index and middle finger hooked under the edge of her suit bottoms. Excitement surged through her. Her teeth caught her lower lip, and she fought not to moan as dampness surged between her folds. Maybe if I struggle, just a little bit, he’ll get rough. Just like I like it.
    Experimentally, she wiggled her ass, as if to pull away. He clapped a hand on her other hip, his fingers digging into her skin. A muffled groan of pleasure slipped between her lips as his fingers quested further under her suit. They grazed the line under the delicate cheek, moving steadily closer to her pussy without hesitation.
    The wooden planks under her chest and belly dug in, holding her from moving too much. She sucked in a deep breath, noticing the scent of wood, dust and the dark devil behind her. His scythe slammed down on the wood beside her and she flinched.
    The agonizingly slow movements of his hand annoyed her, so she pulled away. Sliding to the side, she silently begged him to give chase as she pulled free of his pinning embrace. Stepping toward freedom, sharp pain ripped through her scalp as his fingers closed around her blond locks.
    He swung her back around. Her heart slammed in her chest as he pushed her