She Was Only A Clown Chapters 22 and 23

SHE WAS ONLY A CLOWN is a special serialized novella presented in weekly installments every Saturday. Click here to read chapter 1, click here to read chapter 2, click here to read chapter 3, click here to read chapter 4, click here to read chapter 5, click here to read chapters 6 an 7, click here to read chapters 8 and 9, click here to read chapters 10 and 11, click here to read chapters 12 thru 14, click here to read chapters 15 and 16, click here to read chapters 17 and 18 and click here to read chapters 19 thru 21.


Chapter 22

So I me this guy. Wait, I gotta back up. I met this girl. I like to go out. I like to get weird. I’m a slut, ok? There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s my body and it looks fuckin’ good. I’ll do what I want with it while I’m young and tight, ok?

Anyway, so I go out. I go to bars, clubs, whatever I’m in the mood for. Sometimes I dress classy and go into the city and let well paid businessmen or huge black athletes take me home and fuck me while they whisper how pretty I am in my ear and tell me they’re gonna buy me all kinds of fancy stuff. Most of the time I gotta block their numbers from my phone cause they won’t quit callin’ me.

And sometimes I like to dress like a skank and find the dirtiest, filthiest biker bar in the county and let a group of nasty ass, toothless, methed-out bikers take turns pounding my asshole with their hairy peckers while they spit on my back and tell me I’m a bigger whore than their sisters. I ain’t ever gotta block their numbers. Most of them crank-heads never even ask me my name before they butt-fuck me.

Look, I was raised in Hopp’s fucking Hollow, Illinois by an alcoholic single mother, after all. I ain’t better than nobody, just cause I’m pretty and have big tits. Momma might have raised a slut, but she didn’t raise no rude ass bitch.

Anyways, one night while I was out whoring around, I met this girl. Well, I’d seen her around a few times before and it always pissed me off cause she had a better ass than me and she had her face all pierced up, looking all goth and interesting and shit.

The boys at the lame sports bar we was at were paying a helluva lot more attention to her shaking that bubble butt stuffed into a pair of black tights with skeleton legs printed on them than they was to my best deep-cut cleavage shirt. The one that made my boobs look like were twin titty-planets floating in fuck-me space. 

First time she invaded my slut territory, I ended up having to go home with some pimple-faced nineteen year old jock who blew his load all over me before he even got it inside me. I mean, fuck man, I shaved my pussy for that?

Next time I went to that bar was purely out of spite. I did my hair up big, spent a whole hour on my eyeliner wings and broke out the best cocksucker red lipstick I owned. And you better believe I showed up late so I wouldn’t be stale meat when little miss pierced ass showed up.

Sure enough, when I waltzed in with my knee high hooker boots and belly shirt with my tiny leather jacket barely holding in my tits, all them faggy football players’ eyes was on me.

I got my pick of the litter that night and got my pussy and ass split in half by a pair of quarterbacks in from college. I had to ice down my crotch the next day it was so blown out from those big hard dicks.

Guess the war was on after that cause me and that skany fat-assed bitch both made that dumb little bar our permanent hangout.

Joke was on us though cause after a few weeks we’d both done fucked everybody in that bar worth fuckin’ from the owner’s coke-head son to the black line cook in the back with a tongue longer than most white boy dicks.

About the time I was ready to give up on the place and let skanky-face have it, she came up to me one night and introduced herself.

Hey, I’m Mandee.”

I thought about lying and telling her I already knew what her name was cause all the guys in the bar had told me her pussy stank and she gave shitty head, but I decided to be nice and just tell her my name was Kiana so we could get on with whatever the fuck she wanted to get on about.

So, whatever’s going on with our little slut rivalry here is getting kinda lame.”

I just nodded and sipped on my Long Island Ice Tea admiring how well she was able to fade the dark purple shade of her lipstick into a light pink on the edges giving her mouth a wet appearance that made me want to kiss her more than fight her.

We’ve both fucked every great dick and most of the lame ones that this bar,” Mandee said, playing with the straw in her margarita. “And every other bar this town and two towns over has to offer, for that matter.”

She had that right.

I say we team up,” she said, beaming a huge smile at me that had my pussy practically crying. Mandee was pretty as fuck.

Team up how? Like schedule our days at bars in advance so we can maximize the number of fresh dicks we stuff up our hungry cooters?”

Mandee laughed. It was a full bodied laugh, high and feminine, like a lioness calling the rest of the pack in for the kill.

You’re as funny as you are sexy,” she said, giving me a sly, side eyed glance as she took a sip of her drink.

Same,” I said, smirking.

I’m saying, let’s make this more fun for ourselves. Let’s fuck these bozos together!” Her eyes got wide and intense as she laid out her pitch to me.

Mandee and I became besties after that. We’d meet up every night, play dress up with each other, do each other’s makeup and go out to pick up dudes.

Sometimes we’d play games with each other. I’d dress Mandee up in the lamest mom-pants and poofy bangs combo I could manage, then sit at the bar snickering into my booze as the dudes still relentlessly tried to pick her up.

Other times she’d bet me that I couldn’t keep a Russian accent going all night, from the time we hooked up with a dude to when he was pounding my asshole raw on my living room floor several hours later.

Lemmie tell ya, trying to fake an accent in the middle of an ass-gasm from a 10 and half inch black dick while Mandee’s velvet lips sucked on my pussy like a fuckin vacuum cleaner attachment was hard fucking work.

Mandee and I became so close, she ended up moving into my apartment after a few months of slutting it up together.

She became my best friend. Our best move, the move we saved for the guys with the biggest dicks or at least the ones who knew how to use their cocks the best was a one-two punch of whoredom.

We used both of our strengths like a Frankenstein slut. I’d lay on my back and make the dude fuck my huge tits while Mandee would straddle my head, facing forward so her juicy booty was right in the guy’s line of sight. I’d eat her pussy and finger her butthole while the dude plowed my cleavage. Ain’t no dude EVER hold a load back more than five minutes after we put our super-move on him, I’ll tell ya that.

You might think I got the raw end of that stick, seeing as how I was getting Mandee off with my fingers and mouth while the dudes got to blow their load all over my titties and face, but I didn’t complain a bit. I had the best tasting, sweet little pussy grinding on my face, pulling my hair and a thick cock sliding between my tits, dude twisting my nips and squeezing my boobs.

I’d cum two, even three times some nights just playing with my own sopping wet little cooze while all that was going on.

Suffice to say, life was pretty fucking great for a while. Hell, I’d even considered proposing to the bitch a few times we was having so much fun together.

Everything in my life was fucking wonderful. And then we met him.


Chapter 23

One night Mandee and I were out at this bar a good forty five minutes outside Hopp’s Hollow. That night, we had a bet going on to see how many hand-jobs each of us could give under the tables and in the bathrooms before the end of the night. The loser had to pay the tab.

I was up six handies to four when Mandee came walking back from the bathroom with a hunk and a half.

I mean this dude was pretty. He was tall which is always a plus. What easy bitch doesn’t love a tall dude? He was lanky, too which Mandee liked more than me. I’m into huskier dudes. The kind who can lift you up and sit your pussy on their face right there standing in the middle of the room kinda shit.

But this dude wasn’t too skinny. He was just long. Long arms, long legs, long neck. He was dressed really nice. Even had on a little sports jacket. Well groomed. He had a small beard that was trimmed neat at the sides of his mouth and wavy black hair that was definitely moosed into place.

He topped all this off with a musky cologne and a firm handshake that confirmed to me that Mandee and I would be pulling our tits and ass routine on this dude back at our place before the bartender could signal last call, handjob contest be damned.

Hey, I’m Ryan. Mandee said you’re her roommate?”

I like to think of myself as her love slave,” I said, winking at him, cutting through the bullshit as fast as I could.

Ryan smiled. “Mandee said you were a wild one. We’re gonna put that to the test tonight.”

Mandee leaned in, all eyes and teeth, more excited than I’d seen her since we took a whole college basketball team back to my place and let them play beer pong with our assholes as the cups.

He’s got ecstasy and he’s into bondage,” she said, giggling. “I tried to give him a hummer in the bathroom but he said he wanted to save the fun for his place.”

We didn’t normally go home with dudes. We weren’t trying to get raped or nothing. Our lifestyle worked best when we brought guys back to our place where we could keep an eye on them and make them leave whenever we wanted.

I trusted Mandee so if she wanted to get all weird and twisted up on drugs and let a stranger tie us up and fuck the piss out of us, I was game.

The three of us dosed up, finished our drinks and walked out the door.

Twenty or thirty minutes later, me and Mandee were butt naked, making out in the back seat of Ryan’s SUV while he drove us up a dirt road in the middle of nowhere.

Should we have known better? Fuck yeah. But something about the dude, how much Mandee was into him and for sure the massive amount of drugs we were on clouded our judgment. The fact that Mandee’s plump ass was pouncing up and down on my face like she was teaching a pilates class on it as Ryan drove us up to a creepy deserted farmhouse didn’t help matters any.

Holy Texas Chainsaw Massacre much!” Mandee squealed as we piled out of the car, stumbling into the massive front yard. Only a single light in a room on the second floor illuminated the house from the inside.

Ryan laughed. “It was my grandpa’s place. My parents are too old to take care of it so they let me have it. I stay here when I’m in town on business.”

Mandee pulled out her cell phone while I steadied myself by holding on to her shoulder, struggling to put my shoes on in the full throes of my ecstasy trip.

Mandee tried to take a video of the giant house. “Damnit, no reception out here in the fuckin’ boondocks!”

Guess you girls are at my mercy,” Ryan said, making his eyes big and wiggling his fingers at us in mock fear.

Guess so,” Mandee said, smirking. “Hope you don’t tie us up or nothing.”

Oh I’ve got much more than that in mind for you ladies.”

With that, we walked into Ryan’s house. Mandee dramatically slammed the door behind us screaming, “We’ll never get out alive!”

The awful thing is, she was right.

***

Be back here next Saturday, December 9th, for chapter 24! 

Kevin Strange’s Twitter Horror Stories Week 1


A few years back I played with the idea of writing a one to two sentence horror story on Twitter every day. It was extremely challenging trying to tell a whole story in such a short space, but I had a lot of fun doing it.

I came across my Word file containing all of those old stories this week, so I decided to post them, and add some new ones. I could probably write a Twitter horror story every day indefinitely, and I’m going to try, for a while anyway.  I hope you like them!

Here’s the first week of Kevin Strange’s Twitter horror stories:

  • 1. After the 8th was born, the woman quieted, her task done. The father-thing placed the creatures back inside that they may feed and grow.

  • 2. After the ninth and last planet went cold and dark, the galactic council was forced to concede that the Godchild had indeed abandoned them.

  • 3. Jack made a huge mistake. When he burned the bodies of the crash victims, he forgot to cover their mouths. Now they scream through his.

  • 4. In the closet, Jill willed her heart to quiet down. But the imp didn’t hunt by sound. It was drawn to her hatred of her husband next to her.

  • 5. College seemed like the right place for Ann to make new friends. It was. She talked to the jars full of tongues every morning before class.

  • 6. As the final seal was broken, Katie shed her people-skin. The surprise on their faces tasted nearly as good as the flesh on their bones.

  • 7. Nine dead children stood in the doorway to little brady’s room at the hospital. He wasn’t scared, though. All of them had his face.

Check back next week for 7 fresh Twitter horror stories, or follow me @KevinTheStrange to see them posted every day!

She Was Only A Clown Chapters 6 And 7

SHE WAS ONLY A CLOWN is a special serialized novella presented in weekly installments every Saturday through Halloween. Click here to read chapter 1, click here to read chapter 2, click here to read chapter 3, click here to read chapter 4 and click here to read chapter 5.


Chapter 6

Foolishly, Elwood remained terrified of Mark Nelson. As though the rage-filled redneck would tear the sharp post from his neck wound and stab Elwood with it like some crazed movie villain.

In fact what happened was Mark Nelson shrank away, pawing at the deep wound. He drew his blood-soaked hands away and stared at them with wide, disbelieving eyes. All of that hate and rage drained from his face along with his color. His pale features trembled like he was suddenly a child scolded too harshly by his mother.

Mark dropped to his knees in front of Elwood and looked up at him, as if he couldn’t believe that the man he’d so recently been violently raping was capable of returning that violence in kind.

Elwood looked at his captor with a curious indifference, already resigned to a terrible death out there in the woods. His act of defiance didn’t fill him with hope or adrenaline. He didn’t imagine a daring escape into the darkness.

No, instead Elwood felt something he’d never felt in the presence of another person in his entire life.

He felt aroused.

Elwood never thought of himself as gay, especially not after the incident in Mark’s room with his fag jar. But he had also never been able to make himself aroused at the sight of a naked woman.

He’d experimented with gay porn on the Internet, but it was more out of curiosity about his sexuality than carnality or lust.

He had managed to bring himself to beat off to both straight and gay porn at different times, which only confused the matter further.

In truth, by the time uncle Jeff had died and Elwood had retreated to the solitude of the barn, he had maybe masturbated a half a dozen times. He could not now, standing there before Mark Nelson in the woods, remember the last time he’d achieved an erection. Sexuality was just too confusing for him. He’d shut out that particular biological function and assured himself that he was just a weird asexual anomaly.

But now he had a murder boner.

Mark collapsed onto his back, spurting blood from around the sign post sticking out of his neck. He was bleeding badly, but as long as the post stayed in his neck he would live a few minutes longer, Elwood guessed. It’s not like he had any experience killing anyone before.

But man did the sight of that blood, that abject fear and helplessness in the eyes of his attacker turn him on.

He’d never had this kind of power over another person before. Hell, he’d never had any power over a person before. He’d spent his entire life as a meek and timid little shit. The only time he’d ever been considered in charge of any situation was the one time he’d been left alone with his cousin Jake, and look how that turned out.

But this? Intoxicating.

He took a step forward. Mark flinched away, shielding his neck like a wounded animal, blubbering and begging Elwood away, crying for the fake clown not to hurt him.

Elwood couldn’t decide whether to finish the pathetic Nelson boy off or take out his dick and jack off on him. He supposed he could do the former after the later.

Or would it feel better to cum on his corpse?

These morbid thoughts were interrupted after a time by the sounds of the other Nelson brothers screams.

Jacob, Philip and Carl hadn’t heard Mark go down. Nor had they heard him blubber and beg for his life. They were busy finish up their dirty business with the clown girl.

This god damn slut’s puss is too tight!” Carl said, grunting harder. “I caint hold my nut no longer!”

Wait a damn tick now,” Jacob said, beads of sweat rolling out from under his filthy trucker hat into his ratty beard. “I got somethin’ special in mind for this whore. Don’t be blowin that load till I say!”

He’s right, Jake,” Philip said, rolling his hips as he plunged his ringed cock in and out of the clown girl’s relaxed mouth. “I got a damn nut brewin, too. Her holes’s too small to fuck with for too long. I’m fixin to slather her lil face in ball-butter if you don’t come on with yer grand plan!”

Just hold it! Think about fuckin’ granny or somethin. I want us all to bust in that there cum jar and then shove it down this skank’s throat!”

Ain’t no good!” Carl said, panting now, trying to keep his hips still, but Jacob’s dick smashing in and out of the clown girl’s asshole was creating enough friction against Carl’s cock stuffed inside her pussy by itself to make the shirtless redneck blow his wad. “I LIKED fuckin’ granny!”

The three men howled in unison again as Jacob leaned down to pick up the partially spilled jar of semen.

His laughter was cut abruptly short when he wasn’t able to remove his penis from the clown girl’s rectum. The jar remained just outside of his reach. As he went to pull out to give himself the extra inch he needed, he was stuck.

Dang,” he mumbled. “Ya’ll ain’t kiddin. Bitch is tight!”

He rocked his hips back again, but found himself held fast.

Beneath him, Carl too tried to exit the clown girl’s orifice. “My dick’s stuck!” he screamed, thrashing back and forth. “My damn dick’s stuck!”

Philip laughed harder. “Quit fartin around! Let’s nut on this bitch and get to killin’ her. I ain’t missin’ Hell In A Cell rasslin’ over a dumb ass clown.”

But as he tried to pull his cock out of the clown girl’s mouth, he too was unable to remove it.

Now the three rapists were shouting and screaming and doing no more laughing.

Elwood glanced over his shoulder, maniacal grin on his face. He watched as the three Nelson boys thrashed and punched at the clown girl, cursing and begging and praying to be let go.

Aw, jeez Elwood!” Jacob cried. “We was only playin’ We didn’t mean nothin’ by it! Tell your girlfriend to let us go!”

Elwood stumbled over toward them as though drunk. His eyes were glazed over and his boner was ragin hard as ever. “Not Elwood,” he said, slowly pulling the clown mask down over his face.

Name’s Skitzo Cyko. I’m a killer clown. Just like her.”


Chapter 7

Elwood watched the Nelson brothers wail, one hand absently rubbing the boner straining the front of his pants.

One second, the clown girl was still on her hands and knees–the Nelsons smashing her in the face, back and arms with their fists, trying to rip their cocks out of her body with no success–the next moment she was standing. Just like before, she hadn’t actually moved, just… phased to a new position.

This only increased the complaints from the Nelsons, as they were not only seemingly fused to the clown girl by their penises, but now they were hanging from them. “Lawd Jesus in heaven kill me now!” Carl screamed, flopping underneath the clown girl’s spread legs. He hung only inches from the ground, gently swaying back and forth like an empty swing. He clawed at her hips, trying and failing to pull himself up and take the weight off of his straining penis.

Jacob was fairing no better behind him. The big man was tall enough to keep his feet on the ground, but the way the clown girl was standing and the way his cock was stuck up her ass, he was forced to kneel forward, but even that wasn’t enough to take the strain off his dick. To make matters worse, Carl kept bucking and kicking his legs out from under him, causing him to constantly lose his footing and end up with his dick supporting his full body weight, which was considerable.

In fact, none of the Nelsons weighed less than two hundred pounds. A trait that usually worked in their favor as they were able to bully and intimidate virtually anyone in town. Tonight, however, that was not the case.

Philip had it the worst. Being in the clown girl’s mouth meant that he was hanging from the highest up and had absolutely nothing above him to grab onto to counter his weight. Indeed after only seconds the sound of the tendons in his pelvis ripping free matched his screams.

Pop! Pop! Pop!

Understandably, Philip wasn’t able to make many coherent words as he whined. He sounded more like a dying goat than a man dangling from a naked, supernatural killer clown girl in the middle of the woods.

Elwood only laughed at the men’s plight. He was suddenly having the time of his life. It then occurred to him that as Skitzo Cyko the killer clown, he could do anything he wanted. So he pulled down the front of his baggy clown trousers and jacked his murder boner off right there in front of god and everyone.

He was unconcerned about Mark Nelson behind him. What was the worst he would do? Try to get up and run away? He was in a real bad way and wouldn’t get far. And if he tried to pull the post from his neck? He’d be dead before he made two steps. Elwood was content leaving him behind him stewing in his own pain and fear for a few minutes while he watched the Nelson brothers in front of him suffer.

That’s when the clown girl moved.

She was instantly standing in front of Elwood and while it startled him, it didn’t make him piss himself like when he’d first seen her take her face off. It almost made him cum, actually, but he was so unused to sex, he was doing a good job holding his cum back.

While the girl had moved, the Nelson boys had not. However, instead of their dicks sticking out of her orifices, three thick black tentacles now extended from her back. They were made of that same deep dark anti-color that Elwood had seen before when Mark’s dog had attacked her. They also shimmered the same iridescent green as rows and rows of eyes pulsed from the clown girl’s back, all the way to their tips which still firmly held the Nelsons’ cocks.

He smiled and continued to stroke his dick as the thing that pretended to be a clown stared at his boner.

I’m one of you now. Look,” he said, stepping aside, showing off the work he’d done to Mark Nelson.

The redneck kicked his legs, making a weak attempt to crawl away. The entire front of his clothes were soaked in his blood and his face was chalk white. He wouldn’t last another few minutes.

The clown glanced from Elwood’s dick to Mark, then back at Elwood, all of course without appearing to move at all.

One of us?” she said. Her lips did not move. In fact, the sound didn’t seem to emanate from the clown girl at all. Instead it hit Elwood like a series of waves radiating from the forest itself.

Her voice was low and husky, yet feminine. It contained the sort of base one would expect from a goddess or a demon.

Elwood nodded. The clown girl reached up, deliberately using her actual appendage instead of just phasing her limb in place. She gently touched Elwood’s clown mask, running her long, slim fingers over its grotesque nose and sharp teeth.

She did the same to her own clown face with her other hand, then slid that face away, revealing the black, shimmering triangle-thing that passed for a face underneath.

She pushed Elwood’s mask up, revealing his all too human face.

He felt embarrassed again. Inadequate. He wished he was like her. He wished his skin was made of… space or a black hole or whatever the fuck it was the clown girl was made of.

One of us?” she repeated.

Elwood cast his eyes downward. “No,” he said meekly.

No,” the clown girl said. “Not yet.”

Elwood looked up, surprised.

The clown girl slowly turned her head toward Mark Nelson. Again deliberately going through the physical motion as to best communicate her her intention.

Mark lay dying in the dirt, his eyes glassy. Garbled moans escaped his bloodied lips along with a series of small bubbles, indicating his impending expiration. 

Elwood looked at the bloody redneck then back at the clown girl not understanding.

What? Do you want me to kill him?”

As if in answer, she turned her attention back toward the other Nelson boys.

***

Be back here next Saturday, October 21st, for chapter 8!