Pumpkin Head

Editor's note: this fictional work contains scenes of completely fictional incest or fictional incest content.

*****

Pumpkin Head

I wrote this as an entry for the Halloween 2026 writing contest. I wrote and edited it over four days, and missed some sleep I hope my multiple re-reads, edits, and Word's editor function caught most of the mistakes.

My story describes what may be considered incest between a mother and her adult daughter, but as my story features some sci-fi and occult elements, well... maybe it's not incest. You can decide for yourself

The legal stuff: My copyrighted story is a work of fiction. Any names or situations described are a product of my imagination. Any resemblance to real persons or events is coincidental. No AI was used in developing or writing the story.

I hope you enjoy my story. Positive constructive feedback is always welcome.

***

October 10. Sam lay back on a leather pillow, feeling his sweaty back sticking to it instantly. He wrapped his arms around Marcy. They were both panting heavily after some intense fucking.

Five minutes earlier, Marcy's still cuffed wrists had been linked to one spreader bar that doubled as a trapeze suspended from the ceiling above the bed. Her legs had likewise been restrained by ankle cuffs linked to a second spreader bar. Sam, kneeling on the leather bedspread, had his own ankles resting on the spreader bar, holding it in place while he was furiously pounding her hot, wet, tight pussy from behind. Her ass was bright pink overall with red stripes from the furious flogging he had applied two hours earlier in the evening. He was admiring her recently tortured ass and the small of her back arched so seductively while her arms were suspended by the trapeze. His hands gripped her hips tightly as he drove deeper and harder into her. Then he used his left thumb to circle around her anus, making occasional slight pushes of his thumb into her ass to gauge her progress to orgasm. Marcy was comfortable with anal sex. More than just comfortable--she enjoyed it immensely. But tonight his thumb was going to be just an anal tease--and his probe to feel for that telltale shift in tension and then periodic waves of relaxation and contraction of the sphincter muscles that signaled the onset of her orgasm. His expert play with her ass was building her expectations of getting his cock in her ass and getting her even more excited. Sometimes anticipation can be more pleasurable than the actual getting. And now Sam who was expert in pleasing women was playing that anticipation card.

His hard fucking and thumb play was working on schedule. His thumb was telling him Marcy's pre-orgasm anal signals were strong now--she'd be reaching her orgasm in about 10-15 seconds. He picked up the intensity of his thrusting almost as if he wanted to split her in two--she loved it hard and rough. He switched his gaze from her ass and back to the mirror at the head of the bed so he could see her face as she orgasmed. In his mind he played the mental game on himself of expecting and not getting what he wanted--to heighten his own pleasure. He wanted to cum at the same time as Marcy, so he continued his vivid fantasies of forbidden fruit. He had been imagining that he was fucking Grace, Marcy's mother, for the past few minutes.

While Sam played his internal mental images of fucking Grace, he paid equal attention to the mirror to watch the pleasure on Marcy's face. In seconds, her face told the story his thumb had forecast. Sam noted the changes in her mouth and eyes as she reached her climax, her eyes rolling back in her head, registering the senseless lost in space floating feeling that was building in her mind and body, and her mouth next forming a near perfect 'O' of her crimsoned lips just before she started to scream loudly. That sight and those sounds drove Sam to his orgasm a bit sooner than he had expected. And while he was lost in the gray mind-swirl of his own orgasm he did something he didn't normally do besides his caveman grunting--he moaned out the name "Gracy" and then again much louder this time and with intense longing "Oh, Gracy... fuck... fuck, oh Gracy" as he pumped gushers of semen into Marcy.

It was about ten seconds after his orgasm, and he was finally pulled out his slowly softening cock that Sam had realized what he'd said. His face already red from the exertions with Marcy turned a darker beet purple with embarrassment as the full impact of what he'd done hit him. He'd moaned and yelled out another woman's name during his orgasm, but not just any name--like a former lover's name--he'd yelled out an affectionate version of Marcy's mother's name.

Still kneeling behind Marcy, his wet semi-firm cock sticking to Marcy's ass, Sam panted hard and gave Marcy firm affectionate massage strokes on her lower back, hips, and ass. To soothe himself, he had to admit that imagining fucking Grace while fucking Marcy had resulted in the most intense orgasm he'd ever experienced. All the while he was hoping that while lost in her own screaming orgasm, Marcy hadn't heard his cries of 'Gracy'.

But she had.

Strangely enough, Marcy felt no anger--or even surprise--at Sam's miscue. She was still breathing hard and recovering from her orgasm and feeling 'floaty' from the previous hours of bondage, intense impact play, and now having been partially suspended while Sam had ravished her from behind like some demented raging bull. Maybe she had imagined him saying 'Gracy' instead of 'Marcy' while in the throes of her orgasm, she thought.

But no, she wouldn't lie to herself. She'd heard it... clearly.

Marcy could imagine Sam being attracted to her mother despite the taboo. Maybe even because of the taboo. At 50--a very youthful-looking 50--her mother strongly resembled Marcy, who was 26. In fact, for the past few years many people seeing mother and daughter together often mistook them for sisters. They had such a strong uncanny resemblance to each other in their faces, body size and shape, which combined with Grace's youthful looks, made it natural for people to assume that Grace was Marcy's slightly older sister.

Marcy was also aware of her mother's sexual attraction to Sam. Since her divorce from her second husband, Gary, five years ago, Grace had swiftly evolved into a voracious cougar. Marcy had never met her biological father. Her mother stated she had planned to marry Marcy's father Jim after learning Grace was pregnant, but he had died in a tragic accident before the nuptials and Marcy's birth. But Marcy secretly harboured the belief that her mother didn't know who her father was. She wanted to be fair to her mother and believe her story, but there were no pictures of 'Jim' nor any obituary. And based on her mother's active sex life, she imagined her mother had always had voracious appetite for sex. The frequent dates (one-night stands) were probably not merely a reaction to losing Gary.

When going out on her 'dates' Grace dressed more provocatively than Marcy, which was saying something. When Marcy had brought Sam home to meet her mother for the first time, Grace had dressed smartly and appropriately in a charcoal-gray wool dress suit that had set off her green sparkling eyes. And Grace had acted and spoken appropriately with Sam on their first meeting, but Marcy had noted brief flashes of wolf-like lust in Grace's eyes that sneaked out past Grace's polite, restrained exterior. Oh yes, her mother was mentally undressing Sam.

Over the past two years, Sam had lusted after Grace. She was a well-put-together cougar who made no bones about wanting to ride Sam's bone. She flirted shamelessly with Sam whenever they got together. Sam made sure he was never alone with Grace. But even in Marcy's presence, Grace made suggestive comments and double-entendres, leered openly at Sam, winked, and made a point of brushing by Sam when Marcy wasn't looking and there was plenty of room to avoid 'brushing' by Sam. Grace got a thrill from rubbing her groin, hip, or ass on Sam's crotch 'by accident' and noted her daughter's boyfriend's cock seemed to be permanently erect in her presence. Other than having his trouser 'sentinel' standing at attention guard around her, Sam never reciprocated her sexual teasing. He merely smiled shyly to acknowledge he got her message but was not going to respond verbally or with knowing eyes. In his mind, though, he was ravishing Grace in any number of kinky scenes.

Marcy had gotten slightly angry with her mother on a few occasions when she thought her mother had seemed too obvious in flirting with Sam. It never occurred to her that her mother would CROSS THE LINE of wanting to fuck her own daughter's boyfriend.

Sam calling out 'Gracy' instead of 'Marcy' during his orgasm had Marcy thinking she needed to talk to her mother--soon. She simmered while receiving the aftercare Sam doted on her. He was always quite good at aftercare following an intense session, but tonight he seemed even more attentive than usual while he was kissing her face and neck, gently rubbing her shoulders and upper arms (which were still a bit stiff from her recent suspension), and whispering a combination of sweet nothings and explicit descriptions of what he'd do to her next time. He only paused during his affectionate rubbings to feed her chocolate and blueberries and give her a much-needed sip of wine.

Marcy very much enjoyed this sweet aftercare which was even better that the great aftercare Sam always gave after defiling and debauching her, but she wondered how much of tonight's attention came from Sam tonight out of a sense of guilt... or whether Sam was secretly fantasizing about cuddling and soothing Grace, after an intense BDSM scene. Yes, Marcy was calling Mother tomorrow.

October 11. Marcy and Grace sat facing each other in the café where they met about once a week. Grace had sensed a bit of stress in Marcy's voice when she suggested they meet up for coffee a few days earlier than usual. For this meeting Grace had toned down her outfit only slightly from her initial plan. Grace wore and very expensive and large diamond earring and necklace set. Her suit was a tight, dark brown lambskin pencil skirt, a matching dark brown lambskin jacket, knee-high high-heel brown leather boots, and a tight-fitting beige alpaca wool sweater. It was obvious to Marcy that her mother was wearing one of her recently purchased 60's-style bullet bras under the tight sweater. She noted lightly patterned beige silk pantyhose had a visible seam up the back of each leg as Grace had walked to the café entrance. No doubt the pantyhose were crotchless, Marcy mused.

Heads of both men and women turned in the crowded café to track Grace as she sauntered to the table where Marcy was waiting. Grace waved to the barista and held up two fingers indicating she was buying for both her and Marcy. The barista knew the order. October meant two pumpkin spice lattés for 'the sisters', as the staff called mother and daughter.

Their conversation started off awkwardly. "Jesus, Mother. You're a bit overdressed for a suburban strip mall coffee shop," Marcy hissed in a lowered voice, embarrassed. Marcy was dressed more appropriately in brown loafers, jeans, a pink t-shirt, and a brown leather bomber jacket, which was typical wear for their get togethers, particularly on a chilly autumn morning.

"Oh dear," Grace sighed. "It's not a contest, Marcy. I was just feeling a bit low this morning and dressing up helped cheer me."

"Plus," she continued (lying now), "I'm meeting with a date for lunch downtown later." (Actually, she would later be going to a sex club she belonged to.)"

The conversation settled into the patter of how Sam was doing, what was new with each of them at work. Marcy was a graphic designer. Grace was a retired chemist whose cheating husband Gary's 's early death had left her with her late husband's inheritance and a large life insurance payout. Grace used her wealth to dabble in chemistry projects, mostly hobby-based--her hobbies being fashion and sex.

Once Marcy seemed a bit more settled, Grace asked more searching questions. "Is everything alright between you and Sam?"

Marcy opened that she was a bit concerned about Grace's constant flirting with Sam. "Mother, your attention to Sam seems to be stronger than just 'liking'. Jesus, I feel like you want to steal my boyfriend!" she hissed. An older couple (with still good hearing) caught this exchange, looked at each nervously, and got up to leave.

"Marcy dear," her mother said soothingly, "I don't want to steal Sam! Well, maybe borrow him occasionally on a lonely night..."

"Just kidding," she hastily added, seeing Marcy's eyes light up in anger. "I'm sorry for my inappropriate attempt at humour just now. It was misguided. I really do like Sam, and I think you're a perfect couple together. I just want him to feel like he's a part of the family, that's all. I'll strive to behave myself." (Secretly, Grace was getting aroused just talking and thinking about Sam. Her panties would be wet--except she wasn't wearing panties.)

Somewhat placated, Marcy thought better of telling her mother how she figured her enticing, cougar ways in front of her boyfriend had contributed to Sam's calling out Grace's name last night. No need going into details of her sex life with her mother and she figured revealing Sam's orgasm outburst was more likely to encourage Grace's flirting-- knowing that she'd gotten into Sam's head. Marcy figured her best plan was to somehow steer her mother's erotic appetite in another direction. Stopping her mother's 'adventures' was a hopeless task--and none of business, as long as it didn't include Sam.

Thus, when Grace mentioned she wanted to share her latest chemistry hobby with Marcy, and it would involve Marcy's artistic and design skills, Marcy leaned in with curiosity. She figured working with her mother was a great way to keep an eye on her.

"Check this out," Grace held out her cell phone. On the screen Marcy saw a good-looking muscular man wearing a ball cap advertising a chainsaw brand, a motorcycle bandana with a jack-o'lantern motif covering his face, and a Mackinaw jacket, open at the chest and no shirt on. As he stepped from the camera, she saw the man was not wearing pants either, just the jacket, cap, and face mask--and a raging erection. He continued backing up from the camera, then turned, yelled 'Yee haw' and knelt in front of a large pumpkin and started vigorously fucking a hole that had been drilled into it. His muscular lily-white ass was pounding a hard rhythm as a hollow thump, thump, thump beat out in the forested scene.

Marcy was too stunned to react immediately as she watched the madness on the screen. Then she looked at her mother, who was laughing with her wicked witchy 'hee hee hee' laugh in the middle of the cafe. "Mother is losing it," was Marcy's first thought.

As her laughter subsided, Grace held up her hand. "I know what you're thinking: 'Mother's losing it.' Please hear me out. Yes. it is a silly scene. Crazy even--and you know I never yuck someone's yum. Fucking pumpkins is... unusual... but you must admit he's got an amazing ass and good pounding technique... all wasted on a pumpkin. It just hit my funny bone, that's all... (more stifled laughter)... anyway, I 'm working on a project trying to improve preservative chemistry. You've heard about preserving human bodies in plastic-like form as art and as teaching aids (here Marcy nodded... warily... wondering with growing worry whether her mother had killed someone).

"Well, I'd like to preserve pumpkins for Halloween use. Did you know 90% of the pumpkins grown in North America are for Halloween use as jack 'o lanterns... and then most end up in landfills? What a waste! I've been working on a method to preserve pumpkins as decorations. Some of my prototypes had ended up shrinking slightly and becoming rubbery and moldable for a short while before stabilizing into a stable rubber-like state..."

"Okaaaayyy," Marcy breathed out, already dubious about her mother's latest crackpot idea. How could an otherwise sane woman have such ideas? "And you got this idea from watching a man fuck a pumpkin?"

"Oh no," Grace protested. "I had the idea long before that. I guess experimenting on pumpkins just primed me to see pumpkin-fucking as absurdly funny. Anyway, I had intended to make statues and other art from molded real pumpkins, which can retain their smell--and can even have pumpkin spice smell," she added, holding up her latte and giving it a small swirl. "Most people seem to love pumpkin spice flavour," Grace pointed out.

"Or you can add many other flavours or removal all smells--and add colours--to mold pumpkins into any number of useful articles--and they'd be organic and compostable--instead of being plastic. And the transforming chemicals are all common, inexpensive, and non-toxic."

Marcy started nodding. "OK," she said. "I can see that making some sense. So... this is a new business idea?" hoping her mother was going to stop her 'hobby chemistry' and build a real business. Maybe having less free time on her hands by growing and managing a business would curb her mother's sexual appetite... somewhat. "How does that saying go?" she thought to herself, "The devil finds work for idle hands."

Grace nodded in agreement. "Yes, that is my plan, but I'd like to start it by combining my new chemistry with a hobby... I'd like to start by making kinky rubberized wear from pumpkins as adult-themed Halloween costumes and well... for kinky sex any time of the year. Latex and rubber fetishes have become more popular, thanks to the internet!"

Marcy held her hand to her face, shook her head and groaned. "Jesus, Mother..."

***

Later than night, Marcy told Sam about her coffee meeting with her mother. Her mother had sworn her to secrecy about her rubberized pumpkins business and somehow Grace had managed to convince Marcy to get involved in the rubberized Halloween/fetish costumes. So, other than telling Sam about all the mundane mother-daughter talk--and she wasn't even going to bring up the issue of Sam calling out 'Gracy' during his orgasm last night (she figured she let him think she hadn't heard), that left only the guy fucking the pumpkin as the only really interesting part of the coffee chat.

She showed Sam the video. He raised one eyebrow in amused disbelief. "Okaaayyy, I've heard of guys who'll fuck anyone... or anything... but that's unbelievable. Must be AI. In any case, I'm not about to yuck someone's yum but... no way I'd ever fuck a pumpkin... let alone post it online --even if I was disguised."

"Real or AI, Mother laughed uproariously when she saw it--multiple times," Marcy responded. "I worry about her sometimes." She had hoped showing the video and describing her mother's amusement would dampen any erotic fantasies Sam had about 'Gracy', as in maybe 'Gracy' was going a bit 'crazy'. Marcy had heard Sam joke around among 'the boys', his buddies: telling them, "Doc Holiday used to say, 'Never sleep with anyone more disturbed than yourself." The 'boys' would laugh. She hoped Sam took that advice to heart and didn't just spout it as a joke. On the other hand, she experienced first-hand how proficient a BDSM practitioner Sam was and he may have met his share of kooks within the BDSM community while honing his skills. Maybe he'd see Mother as a 'crazy' challenge to conquer. Marcy was feeling so confused.

She also had a new thought: After Mother had described the kinky pumpkin Halloween costume idea, and now Sam's 'never never' about fucking a pumpkin, Marcy had warmed to Mother's new project as a challenge, as a sort of mild punishment for Sam for calling out 'Gracy' during his orgasm. Maybe Sam would fuck a pumpkin--the right rubbery pumpkin, if she could arrange conditions just right. She'd love to see that!

October 21. Marcy had met with her mother daily for the past ten days. She usually spent about 3-4 hours each workday after work and 8-10 hours on each day of the weekend learning her mother's chemistry methods, seeing prototypes of rubberized (not 'plasticized' pumpkins Grace had been eager to point out--clothing needs to be flexible for wear... plus rubber has that kinky fetish vibe associated with it.)

Marcy hadn't spent this much time with her mother since her early teen years. She gained a new appreciation for her mother's technical knowledge-- plus her advice about other aspects of life that is passed from mother to daughter in an ideal world. But who lives in an ideal world? Much of Grace's advice was about sex, but not all of it. Marcy didn't expect her sex maniac mother to show such good sense in many other areas of life such as finances and relationships - but Grace was much richer now than when Gary died, despite seeming to spend more money that she earned--and cycling through a series of men who never seemed to last more than a few 'dates'. It wasn't because Grace was incapable of holding onto long-term relationships--she just didn't want to. She loved the carefree life of doing what she wanted when she wanted.

***

After a few days of hesitant play in 'the lab' to humour her mother, Marcy had quickly become a convert. She was very impressed with the rubber pumpkin process, which could likely also be transferred to other fruits and vegetables. She got a visceral thrill out of squeezing and molding the softened rubbery pumpkins into all kinds of interesting shapes. It was very tactile and sensual, as people who do pottery describe their relationship with wet clay.

Marcy and Grace next tackled the issue of converting rubberized pumpkins to clothing; specifically shorts, bras, and masks or hoods for Halloween (and kink/fetish) wear. There were multiple technical challenges in controlling stretch, keeping triangular or square holes from tearing at the corners (ships' portholes are round for a reason, as Grace explained) and about how to reinforce edges and holes for laces. Could they insert zippers, rivets, studs, D-rings for heavier play? Could they use adhesives?

Each evening Marcy returned home weary from the work but also enthused and energized by the ideas they were testing in their research. She also smelled strongly of pumpkin at the end of every day...

Sam was getting annoyed by her late arrival (usually 9 PM) each night and falling asleep by 10 on most nights. On a few nights she mustered enough energy to give him what he needed. She woke up bruised, with red stinging ass, and feeling like she'd been fucked raw... in other words, in great shape to start another day of working on graphic designs and then working on rubberized pumpkin fetish wear.

October 22. Grace and Marcy had their first success with a kinky garment. They had made an orange rubberized corset that smelled like pumpkin spice. The eyelets held, despite tight lacing applied by Grace that left Marcy gasping for breath and wondering if her ribs would snap. "OK!" Grace had announced with pride. "We have a winner!"

As Grace continued poking, prodding, and caressing the tight corset embracing Marcy, looking for flaws, she announced:" I'm going to add some black dye, red dye, and purple dye to each of the three other prototypes to ensure we can get various colours without loss of strength and stretch.

These coloured prototypes were a success. So were the tests of adding lacy frills, straps made of rubberized pumpkin, and D-hooks in various locations to test for bondage applications. As usual, Grace tested on Marcy, who was becoming quite aroused by being fitted into the tight rubberized corsets and being tied, rubbed, spanked, whipped, flogged, wrestled, and otherwise 'manhandled' by her mother--all in the name of research. Her mother seemed detached and professional while chasing her research goals and waited tolerantly when Marcy relaxed enough and became wanton enough to start having three or four orgasms because of her mother's experiments, without being embarrassed or self-conscious. All her mother said on these occasions was some combination of 'There's my good (or naughty) girl, revel in your body, enjoy your carnal pleasures, life is too short', etc. "Your sexual responses and orgasms are proving our research is on the right track."

Who could argue with motherly advice like that?

That evening Marcy arrived home especially late and sneaked into bed with a sleeping Sam. She didn't want him to see the new bruises, welts, and lash marks her own mother had added earlier that night on top his impact handiwork from the previous night. However, when Marcy undressed, she noted that she still felt the residual dull aches of bruises and sharper stings of lashes applied by Sam last night and her mother earlier today--but her flesh and skin showed no telltales signs. They seemed to have 'magically' disappeared. She'd have to tell her mother this observation tomorrow. She was also eager to tell her mother about the effects she thought she was experiencing with her libido. Marcy had always been a sexually adventurous ('liberated!') woman with a growing appetite for BDSM activities since she met Sam--but she was not even close to being in the same league as her mother, whom she imagined at this moment was fucking a stranger she had met in a bar. (In reality, Grace was in the dungeon at the private sex club she belonged to, wearing a strap-on and enjoying her favourite situation (airtight) in a wanton gangbang from 11 of her 'favourite' play partners--10 men and one woman, Gloria, who was also wearing a strap-on. Grace wanted to savour one last wild night before Halloween.)

October 23. Marcy dragged herself to her mother's lair (OK, basement lab) mid-afternoon. after having called in sick to work that morning. She was groggy from lack of sleep and sore from the erotic workover her mother had given her yesterday--'all in the name of science' her mother had told her. It was obvious her mother was giving her an erotic experience as a gift--and not seeming to take any sexual pleasure herself when sending Marcy through a series of intense sensory experiences followed by multiple orgasms during the day. What the hell was her mother doing? Her first guess was that the wild sexual animal she thought her mother to be was able to compartmentalize her erotic thoughts in some way that she couldn't see her sexual gratification of her daughter as an incestuous act. Or maybe Mother was grooming her to be her sexual partner...? Marcy was confused... but sure she could prevent her mother from CROSSING THE LINE with her.

With excitement, Marcy told her mother about how her skin was responding to the rubberized pumpkin. Even parts of her body not in contact with the rubberized compound were healing much faster. Grace was fascinated by this finding--it meant rougher play and faster healing could result in a quicker turnaround of impact play and bondage sessions. She also revealed to Marcy that she thought that absorbing or inhaling the rubberized pumpkins' compound or compounds increased libido and decreased the need for sleep. (Grace had outlasted all her partners last night and felt quite refreshed now after having had only three hours of sleep. She wasn't going tell Marcy anything about last night's gangbang, though.)

***

[Unbeknownst to Grace and Marcy, the chemistry involved in rubberizing pumpkins with safe and non-toxic chemicals had converted some of the natural compounds in pumpkin to a non-hallucinogenic aphrodisiac that accumulated over time and drove rubberized pumpkin garment wearers into frenzies of lust called "Pumpkin Head". Marcy perfected the process years later and became fabulously wealthy. Governments around the world cracked down and made rubberized pumpkin illegal when the rise of orgies and sex parties threatened the economy by excessive employee absences from work--and uncontrollable sexual frenzies at work. But that's a later story. Back to the early days of 'Pumpkin Head'...]

***

Grace could see Marcy was tired... and sore. Today would be a restorative day. She took Marcy to their favourite café for pumping spice lattes (what else?!) and mother-daughter talk that was free of any sex talk (unusual). Just good motherly advice. Then, in a complete return to form, Grace took Marcy off to a kink store to purchase latex catsuits, a n assortment of strap-on dildoes and harnesses, vibrators, and several sets of nipple clamps, cuffs, D-rings, and chains. And several liters of silicone lube. As an afterthought, Grace ordered two styles of spanking benches, a pillory, and a St. Andrew's cross, to be delivered in three days.

"Back to the lab now, my dear," Grace gently coaxed her daughter. "This will be a day of low energy experimentation, I promise. It's just that Halloween is a mere eight days away, and there's still lots to do." I need everything completed by October 29.

Back in the lab, Grace soothed Marcy and sat her in the luxurious leather sofa in her basement lab. "Just sit and relax, my girl, while I put today's purchases away".

Grace quickly stored the items amongst the large collection of sex toys and costumes she already had. Marcy's eyes popped in amazement when she saw all the cabinets and closets that opened and closed in quick succession, showing an abundance of sex equipment she never expected even her hypersexual mother to own.

"What the hell was that shopping expedition all about?" she asked her mother.

"Oh, a girl can never have too many playthings. I give them to my lovers once I've finished with them, like a parting gift or a keepsake, if you will. Plus, there's something about a mother-daughter shopping trip that is special. And I doubt very few mothers and daughters go sex-toy shopping together," she added with a playful laugh. "Think of it as a 'bonding' experience..." and then she slipped into her wicked witch laughter.

Marcy felt like she needed a nap and told her mother so.

"Go ahead, my sweet girl. I'll putter around preparing some molding supplies while you nap. I promised an easy day for you. You only just need to sit or stand later while I make molds of your body."

Marcy dozed fully and completely. Her dreams were disturbing vivid erotic scenes of being debauched by Sam, then by her mother... and then her dream morphed into terrible images of her wearing a rubberized pumpkin set of bike shorts, a rubberized pumpkin corset, and a strap-on. Her mother was tied to a bondage bench and begging Marcy to fuck her pussy raw before moving on to peg her ass into submission... she was a wicked witch mother who needed punishment from her daughter! Marcy awoke with a start just as she was about to slip her dildo cock into her mother in the dream...

"You've had vivid dreams, my girl, and you were talking in your sleep. Interesting thoughts you had..." Grace mused casually. "But let's get some molds made of your body... and then mine."

For the next 40 minutes Marcy stood or sat, wearing the neck opening latex suit her mother had bought for her that afternoon. "We need a neck opening so that no back, front, or crotch zipper interfere with the molding process," Grace had suggested in the sex shop.

Grace felt comfortable undressing in front of her mother, less comfortable have her mother slowly and carefully massage the silicone lube over every inch of her body, including her neck and face. Marcy instantly loved the sensual feeling as she stepped into the tight constrictive catsuit's neck hole. The lube helped immensely with slipping in but the bruises and whip and flogging welts on her body renewed their pain as the tight, stretchy latex slid by her skin and gripped her in its embrace. "Fuck, Mother. I enjoyed the spanking, flogging, and bondage at the time. It was delicious, but the afterpain..." and she stopped herself when she realized what she had said to her own mother, and blushed. She had about to say how intensely horny and sexual she felt in the catsuit.

"No need to be embarrassed my sweet girl," her mother said sweetly, and started humming as she mixed up various molding liquids that would polymerize into thick gels later.

She helped Marcy fit a latex hood over her head---a hood with only two nostril holes, to protect her mouth and eyes but allow breathing as the mold made an accurate cast of her latex-clad head. Once the hood was on, Marcy started feeling the effects of sensory deprivation. She became slightly disoriented--and greatly aroused. She heard her mother's soothing but muffled voice urging her to be calm, and to trust her. She felt her mother's hands stroking her face and throat soothingly as she explained that she was going to set Marcy back on a comfortable padded bench, so she'd be facing upward. Then she would place a plastic bin with a cut out to snuggle around her neck. Next Grace would place a rubber tube in each of her nostrils after she enclosed her head in a plastic box. Marcy was to breathe easily and not move after Grace poured the latex molding compound in the box to cover her entire head. It would take six minutes for each of the two layers to set. "I'm going to pour in enough molding liquid to half-depth. It'll come to just about mid-ear. Once it sets, I'll treat the rubbery top surface with silicone lube to act as a demolding release. Then I'll pour the second batch of molding compound until it buries the tip of your nose about an inch deep."

She gave Marcy a set of keys to hold and instructed her to drop them if she needed immediate release from the mold. "Otherwise just relax and enjoy the experience," she reminded her daughter. "And don't move, unless you drop the keys."

Marcy 'floated' during the experience--she felt like she was drifting in space. It felt strangely comforting, calming--but also exhilarating, sensual, and sexual all the same time. Breathing exclusively through the two rubber nostril tubes had also intensified the experience. She told her mother that after she was demolded.

"I'm glad to hear that, my dear." her mother said appreciatively. "You're a real kinkster, just like your mother!"

***

An hour later, Marcy lay resting after her mother had performed a second set of trials using a different molding process. In the second set, her mother had carefully and erotically lubed her entire groin area from mid-thigh to navel. She noted her mother had spent a little more time lubing around her clit region than was technically necessary but didn't complain--not at all. Her mother was very skillful. Then Grace instructed Marcy to step into a large, warmed pumpkin that had been incubated in the rubberizing chemical bath for two days, then heated for 2 hours in a 45ºC bath. The top of the pumpkin had been removed as an oval cutout for the waist, and two small circular leg holes had been cut at the bottom. Marcy stepped into the tight leg holes at the bottom of the pumpkin and her mother carefully slid the body of the pumpkin up her legs. It was very warm but a few degrees below scalding temperature.

By the time the top circular hole was at Marcy's waist she was in a rapture from being encased tin the warm rubbery mass as it started shrinking to fit her body snuggly. Her mother kneaded and massaged the rubberized pumpkin as necessary to get a body-tight accurate fit to Marcy's latex-clad groin area. She extended the legs of the rubberized pumpkin shorts to just above Marcy's knees by repeatedly and firmly massaging the pumpkin to stretch it down the length of Marcy's thighs. The feeling was delicious... and then Marcy remembered the vivid dream of her nap where she had rubberized pumpkin bike shorts like these -and wore a strap-on that she was bout to use to fuck her wantonly horny and begging mother.

Feeling uncomfortable recalling the dream, she was about to ask her mother to stop massaging her thighs, but her mother had switched to massaging the cooling mass of the pumpkin to conform to the contours of Marcy's waist. Finally, Grace massaged the areas of the pumpkin that were cooling the slowest--at Marcy's ass and pussy. Here, Grace worked firmly, slowly, and deliberately, massaging the pumpkin to enhance its rubbery properties and to help it conform to Marcy's ass and pussy. But most of all, Grace had intended to work Marcy into an explosive orgasm-- which occurred after about five minutes of Graces's expert handwork, even through the 2- to 3-mm-thick layer of rubberized pumpkin. Despite its thickness, the rubbery pumpkin 'second skin' seemed to amplify rather than mute the sense of touch. Marcy couldn't comprehend how this worked. It was as if her mother's touch through the pumpkin was even more direct than even direct skin-to-skin contact.

***

Marcy couldn't believe that she had an orgasm standing up and hadn't fallen over. But when she opened her eyes, she was lying on her side on the ground, her head cradled in her mother's own latex-clad lap, and crying softly. Marcy had no idea what had happened, didn't recall falling over, or being caught, or how her mother was now dressed like her in an identical latex catsuit. Marcy continued crying softly.

"What's the matter, my dear?" her mother asked soothingly.

"I'm so ashamed. I'm having deviant sex with my own mother! What in the fuck is wrong with me?" Marcy wailed.

He mother replied soothingly "There is nothing wrong with you my sweet daughter. You're just learning to love yourself." And she stroked Marcy's face and rocked her to sleep.

***

Marcy woke up refreshed. Her phone said it was 9:39 PM, October 23. "What the fuck?" she muttered, "It was 9:35 when I last spoke to Mother, but I feel like I've slept for hours."

Marcy looked around and saw her mother resting on the leather sofa staring at the ceiling, like she was in a trance and talking to someone about 'the upcoming merger'. It sounded like important business, so Marcy stayed quite to not interrupt her mother. Suddenly, Grace's head turned to look at her. "Ah... you're awake my sweet girl. I hope you rested well."

"I did," Marcy replied. "I feel refreshed and believe in my heart and mind that I've slept for at least 8 hours, but my phone says only 4 minutes have passed!"

"Ah, well, my dear daughter... time is a mysterious quantity... as you will find over the next few days."

"What do you mean by that, Mother?"

But Grace seemed not to hear her and did not answer. Instead, she hummed softly, and Marcy had the strange sensation and belief that her mother was communicating with a different place and time. Finally, Grace stopped humming. She turned to Marcy. "It's your turn to make the three molds of my body."

"But you only molded my head and waist area," Marcy protested feebly.

"No, my daughter. I took molds of your breasts while you were sleeping. I also completed the pumpkin costume for you--the final trimming, the laces, zippers, hooks, and snaps. Everything you need for a super erotic costume... all while you slept."

Marcy followed her mother's instructions for the molding process. She had lubed her mother's catsuit thoroughly and massaged her mother for as long as she had requested and where she requested. The massaging was much longer than required to just coat Grace in a layer of lube to prevent the rubberized pumpkins from scalding or sticking to skin during the smoothing and stretching stage for a tight fit. Marcy made a similar bicycle shorts design as her mother had done for her. Her mother explained the bicycle shorts length was necessary to achieve the desired thinning of the rubberized pumpkin, despite it being thinned by loss of water (pumpkins are over 90% water) during the rubberizing process. Her mother explained that the rubberized bicycle shorts could later be trimmed to panty size or even to thong size and shape. ("Duh," Marcy thought to herself, "I'm a graphic designer.")

For the bra, the lessons for which Marcy had missed while napping, Grace had explained the molding and construction technique she had used on Marcy. For this version, Grace wanted the bra to be a demi cup with a scalloped front so that her nipples would rest on the 'ledge' of the bra front. "After that", her mother continued, "I'd like to try making a rubberized pumpkin bra in which the cups are held on by snaps to a rubberized pumpkin corset, allowing for removal so my tits can be fully exposed."

Marcy surprised herself when she agreed amiably instead of with an exasperated eye roll. She was growing to understand and accept her mother more. She was also secretly interested in seeing how this would work out--from a scientific purpose. Marcy also had this intense growing urge to see her mother's breasts in these two outfits, and to play with her mother-- massaging, rubbing, pulling, licking, biting her mother's tits and nipples. "What the fuck am I thinking about?" Marcy wondered in a bit of alarm, but not enough alarm to convince her she wasn't looking forward to the opportunity--and also certain her mother wanted it.

After the two breast molding sessions, Mother and daughter set the two bra templates in a curing room to allow for final hardening and a bit of shrinkage. The rubberized pumpkin clothing would shrink slightly more than the thickness of the latex catsuits they had worn during molding. The suits would be deliciously tight.

For the rubberized pumpkin hood, Grace suggested she'd try an experiment of skipping making a cast of her head, and just wearing the latex hood and have a conditioned pumpkin slid over her head. Despite being blinded by the latex mask (with only two nostril holes) and then the warm mass of pumpkin, she'd insert nose holes herself by feel by pushing plastic straws through the point she estimated where her nostrils were and then pull out the plugs of rubberized pumpkins trapped in the straws.

Marcy was dubious, but went along after her mother explained she needed to test this approach for making a rubberized pumpkin hood for Sam. "We don't have time to make a mold of Sam's head, and he we need the element of surprise," Grace had explained. "We won't worry about nose holes for Sam. I'm planning to mold his mask on his face using a treated pumpkin that has had a triangular cut out with rounded edges, so his nose and mouth are clear. We only need his eyes and ears to be covered for secrecy--and some sensory deprivation."

"What the fuck are you talking about, Mother?" Marcy asked her voice rising in alarm. "What're your plans with Sam? Why does he need a rubberized pumpkin hood?"

"Ah, sorry dear. I wasn't thinking. I'll explain all shortly... tonight. After we try making prototype RP's (that was their new abbreviated name for rubberized pumpkins) on me. Time is of the essence. We must have this project completed by October 29.... And no questions now. I will explain that tonight, too."

***

After making two RP hoods s successfully using the nostril hole punch method with straws, they tried then the triangular cut out method they planned to use on Sam. After the rubberized pumpkin had been inserted over Grace's head (with a lubed latex hood with the entire face cut out, to protect Grace's hair), Marcy began the massaging process to help with increasing the rubbery compound's strength and elasticity, and to ensure a uniform thickness tightly molded to her mother's head. She took care around her mother's eyes, but otherwise was firm in her massaging technique. Seeing her mother with just her mouth and nose exposed in the curing pumpkin, offset by the RP covering made her realize how strikingly beautiful her mother was. Without thinking, she leaned in and gave her mother a light kiss on the lips, her mother responded (without apparent surprise) with a confident and slight opening of her lips. Marcy pursued and soon mother and daughter were embraced in long, languorous, passionate kisses...

About half an hour later, Marcy had performed her recent fantasies of playing softly then roughly with her mother's tits: licking kissing and biting her mother there while fingering her mother's pussy to bring her to orgasm. After her mother thrashed, bucked, and screamed in an orgasm that had surprised (and even scared) Marcy in its intensity, Marcy rested her head on her mother's breasts, hearing Grace's racing heart and deep, gasping breathing.

Her mother played with Marcy's hair and murmured "That was beautiful, dear." They embraced for another ten minutes. Then simultaneously, as if reading each other's minds, the kissed tenderly yet passionately for several seconds before maneuvering wordlessly to a 69-position. Soon mother and daughter were kissing, licking, sucking each other's pussy lips and clit, as expertly as if they had known how they wanted their own clits and labia treated by "mouth love'. Following their simultaneous orgasms, the mother-daughter tandem wordlessly cuddled for several minutes, then began gently stroking each other's faces, throats, and hair.

"Mother, I don't know what's wrong with me. I can't believe we just did that. It's unnatural... taboo, I, I.... What's wrong with me? Mother and daughter engaging willingly in consensual sex... and I don't even feel shame or guilt -- just confusion... is it the damn RP to blame? Or am I lost?" Marcy asked more out of curiosity than anguish.

"I told you a few days ago when I gave you orgasms from rubbing and massaging you that you didn't need to feel guilty from me giving you orgasms. That you were learning to love yourself... well, that is true. You see, what we did the past few days--and just now--was like masturbation--pleasing ourselves sexually. I'm not just your mother, dear... I'm an older version of you--or more correctly, you're a younger version of me. A nearly exact copy of me."

Marcy bolted upright, a stunned expression on her face as if she'd been stabbed in the forehead with an ice-pick. "What?!", she said in surprise--more in an 'it-all-makes-sense-now,' form of surprise rather than in outright disbelief. "What are you talking about, Mother? Please explain this to me."

"I will not only explain... I'll show you," Grace responded. "I told you Halloween was more than just a silly fun celebration. For us it is the most sacred time... and especially this Halloween --Halloween of The Merger. We are almost ready and now is the prescribed time for me to tell you who I, you... we... really are."

***

Grace showed Marcy her home. Not just the 2500-square foot backsplit in the quiet neighbourhood--the house Marcy had grown up in and had known her entire life. Marcy had been surprised a few days earlier seeing the hidden closets within the very basement she had played in as a child... has hung out in with her friends as a teenager. Those closets had been there the entire time Marcy had lived in the house. Just carefully concealed and locked. What really surprised Marcy was what was under the house. Grace told her daughter there was an entrance to the secret elevator and emergency stairwell that led to three levels of reinforced concrete living quarters, lab/industrial space, and heating, cooling, ventilation, electrical generation and storage space--all over 100 meters below the house basement.

"Jesus, Mother, do you expect me to believe that?!"

"Follow me and I'll explain," Grace said with a calm voice as she entered the elevator. Marcy followed.

During the elevator ride and then the tour of the facilities, Grace explained how she was witch and so was Marcy--or soon would be, if she wanted. Grace was over 150 years old (despite her exterior appearance of being a youthful and beautiful 50-year-old. "We typically live to about 250 years old--without The Merger" Grace explained. "The Merger will make us live several times longer, in theory."

Grace went on to describe the history of her witches coven, how her great-grandmother had been burned at the stake in the Middle Ages as a witch but her daughter (Grace's grandmother) had escaped and remained hidden. Her grandmother had organized a coven of 30 witches who shared their knowledge of natural herbs, plant chemistry (and later chemistry, physics, biology, astronomy, and engineering, as well as politics, and psychology) to build a secret female-only society and business empire. Near the end of her grandmother's expected lifespan, Grace explained, the coven had figured out how to reproduce themselves without male intervention--giving birth to exact clones of themselves. Her grandmother had given birth to Grace's mother but had died at age 262, before she could attempt The Merger with her 10-year-old daughter (Grace's mother.)

"My mother had me when she was 127 years old, and at age 150 she merged with her 23-year-old cloned daughter--me. That was exactly 150 years ago this Halloween." Grace explained. "You and I will merge this Halloween--if you consent. If not, I will die in about 80 years or so, maybe a bit longer, barring illness or very serious accident. You can expect to live another 200-225 years--again barring illness or accident.

"However, if we undergo The Merger, I will live and reside within you for the rest of your lifespan, just as my mother lives and resides within me, sharing her past thoughts, experiences, and wisdom. In effect, my mother inside me makes me smarter and stronger, and hornier. I have her libido and my own, in case you've ever wondered about my... energy.

And The Merger makes us even more resistant to disease and accidents. None of my sisters, as I call--and think of--the other women in my coven, have ever had colds, cancer, diabetes... and several have survived car crashes, boat sinkings, plane crashes, fires and explosions--events where survival would not be otherwise possible. We are not indestructible... but highly resistant to dying.

"Are you willing to do The Merger, Marcy? It is painless... but it does require one small sacrifice... you need to be willing to let Sam fuck me and then fuck you in a ceremony observed by the coven this Halloween. He needs to put a 'seed' in you and me before The Merger. We won't use his sperm, but there are essential other compounds in the semen that make The Merger happen. Keep in mind that when Sam is fucking me--or rather I'm fucking him--you know I like to take a leading role, it will be pretty much the same as him fucking you, as we are different versions of the same entity. I know Sam wants me. I know about him calling out my name during orgasm while fucking you three weeks ago. Don't ask how I know...", she said holding up her hand, gesturing 'stop' to Marcy.

"One last thing: You will give birth to our own clone in ten years on Halloween, as a result of The Merger." Then Grace stopped talking. She'd said enough. And she knew Marcy believed her story just from the tour of her underground lair.

Finally, after several minutes of contemplation and silence from Marcy, Grace simply added: "Don't answer now. Go home and think about it. And have the time of your life with Sam tonight."

***

At home that night, Marcy explain that her mother was having a Halloween party and desperately wanted her and Sam to attend. Sam had shown resistance, explaining he'd rather go to the Halloween party at Stan and Laura's house, especially as they'd already RSVP'd to Stan and Laura weeks ago that they'd attend.

"I understand," Marcy pleaded, "except... well Mother will be leaving for a very long time, and it would mean so much for her to have her Halloween party also being a going away party. I assure you that she and I will show you our eternal gratitude at her party... and after. I guarantee you'll have an exceptionally pleasant and pleasurable time at her party," she added with a naughty twinkle in her eye.

"Grace is going away?" Sam asked with a start. "When? Where? When was this decided?"

"I just heard about this from Mother earlier this today. I'm as surprised as you are."

Sam lay there stunned. And finally responded. "Well, of course we need to go to your mother's party. I'll explain to Stan and Laura."

Marcy kissed him passionately. "Thank You! Thank you! Thank you! I knew you'd go!"

The she added "Let's plan for an intense scene tomorrow. I'm a bit tired after all the working I've been doing with Mother's new business. That's why she needs to go away for a while... to expand herself..." Marcy added cleverly, thinking Shakespeare would be proud of her artful 'partly true-but-not-fully-true' explanation... much like the prophecies made by the three witches in MacBeth. Then Marcy unintentionally gave a wicked witchy laugh much like her mother did occasionally, startling both herself and Sam.

"Sorry about that laugh," she said sheepishly to Sam. "I just remembered we need to buy 12-15 pumpkins tomorrow for Mother's party."

Sam groaned, "Haven't you and your mother had enough with the pumpkins?"

Then he added apologetically: "OK, sorry... more pumpkins tomorrow," and he hugged her hard and they kissed long and passionately. They had intended to engage in play that night to explore some of their darkest fantasies, but they agreed they were just too damn tired and would have to settle for dreaming about the darkest sexual fantasies they wanted to explore and share their ideas in the morning. They quickly fell asleep in each other's arms.

October 30. Sam and Marcy woke up and discussed over coffee and croissants about some of the dreams they had last night. They talked about future scenes for their bondage and impact play. (Sam wisely did not mention that his dreams mainly focused on performing forbidden deviant sexual acts with Grace).

***

During their shopping at a nearby farmers' market, Sam was expecting to just grab the 12-15 pumpkins Grace had requested. But Marcy was very slow and deliberate ("overly, overly picky" he mused) as she ran her hands over multiple pumpkins, almost lovingly, before finally picking up a pumpkin, gauging its size, colour, weight, and whatever other magical properties he guessed she thought a pumpkin needed. After 40 minutes and only 12 pumpkins, he suggested that they had their quota. Marcy gave Sam a mildly angry glare and said she needed to buy three more pumpkins--black pumpkins--a colour of pumpkin Sam argued didn't exist, until Marcy pointed some out in a pile about 100 feet away on the other side of the parking lot.

After they paid the farmer and wheeled the wooden trolley of pumpkins to their car, Sam meekly whined about the time spent picking pumpkins.

Marcy shot him a look and then laughingly told him that she was so picky because she didn't want him fucking just any old pumpkin.

Sam blew out an exasperated slow breath and rolled his eyes but wisely chose to say nothing.

He had no idea just how much pumpkin he'd be fucking tomorrow night.

***

The plan was to drop Sam off at home before Marcy continued driving to her mother's house to deliver the final batch of pumpkins. But first she had one more request of Sam. Handing him a silver ink sharpie marker, she asked him to write This pumpkin is mine then sign it Sam. "I know it sounds silly," she said, smiling sheepishly, "but Mother asked. It's for a game or contest for the party--something like that."

Sam smiled indulgently and took the marker to sign the pumpkins as asked.

On her way to her mother's, Marcy called her.

"I have the pumpkins... and they're signed. Be there in ten."

"Perfect," her mother purred. "I want to introduce you to my 29 coven sisters. They've all arrived this morning. They love the rubberized pumpkin garments and the new business plans for the coven! We've also figured out how to introduce an open crotch panty that doesn't continue splitting up the front or back. They should be quite functional and sturdy for even the roughest fucking! A few of my sisters and I tested even out a few of the split crotch panties and bicycle shorts. The thicker material of RPs somehow enhances clitoral rubbing during fucking making vaginal intercourse alone much more likely to bring on orgasms in women. We're going to do more tests on this hypothesis and generate better statistics!" Her mother gushed.

"Oh, Mother..." Marcy groaned and she hung up.

October 31. Sam and Marcy arrived at Grace's house at 7:00 PM. Except for children out trick or treating, the street was quiet.

"I thought this was to be a was a big celebration and not just a Halloween party," Sam asked quizzically. "Where are all the cars? You said it wasn't a neighbourhood party."

"Mother's guests arrived yesterday morning from across the country and many parts of the world. They flew in and came by limos. They are all staying at her house instead of hotels... so no guest cars," Marcy explained.

Sam parked in the driveway and looked at Marcy, with disbelief. "You said there would be 29 guests at the party. How can she entertain and house 29 people in her house for two days?"

Sam was dressed in a cowboy outfit with real beige leather chaps he had borrowed from a friend. He stepped out of the car and grabbed his cowboy hat and lariat from the back seat. Marcy was dressed as Pocahontas in an extremely sexy (and small) beige synthetic deerskin suede miniskirt, vest, and moccasins.

They rang the doorbell and were greeted by a large witch in a pointy hat, green skin makeup, and a large fake mole on her nose. "Ms. Marcy and Mr. Sam, please do enter" the witch cackled as she bowed graciously, adding "Please head directly to the basement to see your mother." Then the maid 'witch' turned her attention to three young trick or-treaters at the door and dispensed candy to them.

"The house is awfully quiet--and dark," Sam noted needlessly. He was on high alert for lights to flash on and to hear a round of 'Boo!' or 'Surprise' but all was quiet. "Where are the guests? Surely, she's not having the party in the basement. Are you sure her guests are here already?" There wasn't even a low buzz of casual conversation or light laughter to indicate anyone was there.

They opened the door to the basement and headed down the stairs. It was brightly lit. There were six women there--Grace and five other striking women who were dressed smartly in expensive business clothing... not Halloween costumes.

"Mother, is there a problem? Is the party cancelled?"

"Oh no. Certainly not. As I told you yesterday, dear, this is the most important night of the year for us--for me and my sisters. Some of us higher ranking members are just finishing some last-minute business before we change into our costumes and start the ceremony and celebration," Grace explained.

"Your sisters?" Sam asked dumbfounded and sounding slightly annoyed from experiencing one new surprise after another over the past few days. "I thought you're an only child, like Marcy."

"Calm down, Sam, please. I belong to a sorority, a very tight-knit and ancient sorority. I want to introduce you to the five ranking members of the Board, my sisters, who help me run things. Then we'll go downstairs to meet the rest of my sisters..."

"But we are downstairs--in your basement," Sam remarked with growing concern about Grace's mental state.

"I meant the sub-basement floors. I have three larger underground levels below us," Grace announced matter-of-factly."

Sam pulled a face in astonishment, and Marcy turned to Sam. "It's true. You'll see in a few minutes," she stated, also matter-of-factly.

Before Sam could ask more questions, Grace took control and made all the introductions between Sam and Marcy and the five Board members. The five women ranged in age and appeared to be between 35 and 65 years old and looked the part of successful career women. Each was dressed in either pricy wool suits, or fine lambskin skirts topped by cashmere wool sweaters or satin blouses, and very fashionable and expensive high heel leather boots or shoes.

"Now let's go downstairs and meet the rest of the guests and start the celebrations," Grace announced brightly.

"Marcy didn't tell you Sam, but we've taken care of your and Marcy's costumes. I do appreciate your cowboy costume, however. It looks very authentic. I love the look--and smell--of a man wearing leather chaps and possibly carrying a large 'pistol'--hopefully not one with a hair trigger. Women generally don' t like it when a man shoots too easily and too quickly," and Grace finished her wicked witch laugh at her own joke. The other five women also laughed. Marcy rolled her eyes.

***

Marcy and Grace had concocted a plan to get Sam's consent for the sex in the celebrations. There was no need to get his consent for The Merger. That was Marcy and Grace's decision, and Sam would be getting Marcy back. The plans had been communicated to the coven and passed by unanimous vote.

There was only one small hiccup in their plan; Sam refused to change his costume. Rather than argue with him, they let him delay what they knew would be a change of costume. They were certain he would eagerly agree to a new costume after the first part of the ceremony.

When the elevator doors opened to the middle level of the three underground facilities, Sam was overwhelmed by the size of the cavernous hall. The ceilings were 25 feet high. How far the back and sides of the room extended was unclear because the only light was dim and provided by downward facing industrial lighting that extend to about 12 feet above the floor. This lighting illuminated a 45-foot-diameter circle that had a semicircle of chairs on the left, with the chairs arranged in four rows having six chairs per row. Each chair was occupied by a woman wearing a long black robe and a black pointy hat stereotypically associated with witches. There was complete silence as they turned their heads to the right in eerie unison to watch the new arrivals enter the room. It creeped Sam out.

In the middle of the circle of light was a large copper cauldron, 10 feet in diameter and 8 feet high. A thin haze of mist rose from the surface of the cauldron. On opposite sides of the cauldron were a set of stairs whose top level was at the same elevation as the rim of the cauldron. One set of stairs led from the centre of the semicircle of four rows of chairs. On the opposite side of the cauldron was a similar set of stairs except this set was topped by a set of two handrails rising from the cauldron, much like the handrails one sees on the ladder leading from a swimming pool.

At the base of the second stairway on the right was a semicircle of seven chairs in a single row, with the central chair being larger and set on a raised pedestal. Clearly, it represented a throne. The five woman who had descended in the elevator took their seats in the semi-circle, three to the right of the throne, and the others in the two outermost chairs on the left side.

There was no movement for 30 seconds. Only the monotonous low hum of the lights and ventilation system made any sound.

Sam had been advised on his way to the room that he was an extremely rare male guest and he must remain completely silent at all times during the ceremony and do as he was told. He was incredibly nervous and over-awed by the scene before him.

Grace instructed Sam to kneel before the women at the position where he stood between Marcy and her.

He kneeled.

Grace started her opening speech: "Welcome sisters. It is so good to see you all here on this most sacred evening in our calendar. I love you all and look forward to working and playing with you in tonight's ceremony and festivities."

Turning to Sam, she continued: "Sam you are about to witness a sacred ceremony that our coven celebrates each Halloween. You are only the second man to witness an especially rare variation of Halloween celebration that we call The Merger. Do not be alarmed by the ceremony you are about to witness. You are just a witness (said with a smirk). No harm will come to you, though you will no doubt enjoy the celebration after the ceremony." The coven smiled at this last comment and gave each other sly knowing looks but made no sound.

"Sisters, after Marcy and I are seated, you may begin the ceremony," Grace intoned. Then she bowed to the coven before walking to the right, with Marcy following closely behind.

When they reached the throne, Marcy kissed her mother then sat in the chair to the left of the throne.

After Grace stepped up to the podium onto which the throne was located and sat down, there was 30 seconds of silence.

Sam was impressed at how efficiently this meeting seemed to be going and with very few words. He started to relax slightly--but only slightly. He was still unsure and nervous about what was to come.

Sam had his eyes fixated on Marcy, with occasional glances at her mother, when he noticed movement to the left. One by one, in an orderly fashion, the 24 witches to the left stood up and walked to the stairs closest to them. At the base of the stairs, they each in turn doffed their pointy hat, and removed their robes before ascending the stairs.

Sam was stunned. Each witch in sequence revealed she was wearing some form of fetish/kink wear: Latex or leather catsuits, mostly black with the occasional pink, blue or a clear latex catsuit, or leather harnesses, or corsets. There were also several latex panty and bra sets, with some of the bras having peep holes with protruding nipples standing out erect and proud. There was also an assortment of accessories and adornments such as neck collars, wrist and ankle cuffs, piercings, and tattoos.

Sam was observing fetish fashion show heaven. His cock had hardened to full extent by the time the second witch had undressed at the base of the stairs. He was soon uncomfortable in his kneeling position, his cock straining for release and squeezed tightly and uncomfortably in his tight jeans. He was about to squirm but caught disapproving glares from Grace and Marcy, so he remained still and remained quiet. "Fuck!" he thought to himself. "Now I see why they were adamant that I should change into another costume they had picked out for me." He realized his current costume stood out--unfavourably---and was uncomfortable as hell.

The first witch ascended the stairs, then walked to the edge of the cauldron, paused briefly to smile at Grace, then stepped in and sank without a splash. The rim was above everyone's head, so Sam guessed she had dropped to near the bottom of the cauldron. After about 5 seconds he saw her hands on the swimming pool railing on the right side and the witch climbed out. Her body, hair, and kinky outfit all dripping wet. However, by the time she descended to the bottom of the exit stairs her hair was perfectly styled, and her leather corset, leather panties, and leather boots were highly polished as before and perfectly dry.

The witch bowed and kissed Grace and Marcy in turn. Sam noted each kiss was not a quick polite peck but rather a slow, intense, passionate meeting of lips and tongues. His cock ached harder. He had never imagined Marcy kissing another woman like that but seeing it now really aroused him. Seeing Grace looking as she did now further inflamed him.

After the first witch had finished kissing Marcy, she walked past Sam, smiling at him as she did so. At this point the second witch was at the top of the stairs and ready to plunge.

Sam enjoyed and endured the pain his trapped cock and balls gave him during the steady parade of the 24 witches until that part of the ceremony was concluded and the 24 kinkily clad witches were again seated. He noted several were holding hands and occasionally kissing passionately.

Grace and then Marcy stood, and walked solemnly to Sam.

"Sam, you have possibly realized you should take the advice of women more frequently. (There was laughter in the background.) Are you now ready for a costume change?"

Sam nodded solemnly. He hid his eagerness, to partly protect his male pride and to look like he fit in--at least as best as possible as the sole male among 31 women.

"Then rise and undress" Grace commanded.

Sam was about to ask if she meant completely undressed but better sense told him to keep quiet--and he figured she did mean completely undressed.

He undressed, efficiently but also nervously. He heard a few giggles and light whistles from the some of the witches until Grace turned and gave them a look. Back to silence.

The sound of each piece of his clothing hitting the floor sounded louder and more ominous than he expected. Standing there naked, being eyed by 30 women (plus Marcy) in his vulnerable state made him instantly ashamed of himself and all men who sexualized women as 'eye candy' and sexual playthings. He stood there naked for a full 60 seconds of deafening silence and turned red in embarrassment. He was also hurt that Marcy would do this to him.

Suddenly he snapped out his thoughts when Marcy stepped forward to him, and said, "I'm pretty sure you think badly of me, but I promise this is the worst part of the ceremony for you and really only a very minor penance for all the hurt men have caused witches... and all other women." Then she kissed him passionately. The witches applauded.

"Sam, you are aware that Mother and I have been busy with a new technology and business involving pumpkins. We will now acquaint you with our product. She stepped aside and one of the five witches he had met upstairs ('Vivian', he recalled) stepped forward carrying a black pumpkin on a silver platter. She handed the platter to Marcy and grace picked up the pumpkin, which had been carved and then treated by the RP process. She stepped toward Sam and placed the softened and warm pumpkin Above his head. "Close your eyes, Sam."

He did and Grace firmly but gently shoved the pumpkin over Sam's head. The bottom of the pumpkin reached to his neck. Only his nose and mouth protruded through a triangular hole. Swiftly and with practiced hands, Grace and Marcy began massaging and molding the rubberized pumpkin to conform to Sam's head as tightly as a second skin.

Sam remained quiet and motionless as the molding process was completed and he heard Grace's muffled voice (his ear canals were almost full of the setting rubberized pumpkin) that he was to remain kneeling and motionless for the next ten minutes while it fully cured.

As he remained kneeling, a well-choreographed transformation of the room took place. The chairs were removed, the lighting turned up slightly (though Sam was unaware due to the layer of RP covering his eyes and ears). The cavernous hall was converted to a four-plex paradise with one corner being a spa with saltwater pool, hot tubs, sauna, and heat lamps. The entire ceiling of the room was covered with ultrahigh definition LED screens that gave a highly realistic impression of a bright blue sky with only occasional puffs of white clouds floating by. In the diagonally opposite corner was a desert night scene with the ceiling LED screens showing a star-studded sky above harem tents amid sand dunes and an oasis. The other two corners were devoted, respectively, to a fully equipped BDSM dungeon, and a recreation of a medieval village honouring the coven's history. In the latter case, the medieval village wasn't a 'museum' setting but rather a sexual playground. Had he been able to see, Sam would have observed two witches pretending to be hopping and skipping around with realistic-looking corn broom handles (actually powerful vibrators) between their legs before falling to the ground while luxuriating with the powerful vibes stimulating their pussies. In short order, the two witches realized they had fallen close to one another and abandoned the vibe broomsticks for each other and were soon engaged in passionate sex. Another group of six witches was playing a version of Ring around the Rosie. When they yelled 'achoo' they all fell down laughing, then got up on their hands and knees and crawled back into a circular conga line with each woman lustily fingering, kissing, and licking the pussy of the witch in front of her. The sounds of lusty kissing, ass slapping, and frantic licking were matched by the sounds of moans, soft whimpering cries of delight, and louder cries a of 'more', 'faster', and' harder' and wild screams of orgasm. Several rounds of this game ensured each witch got to savour--and be savoured--by each of the other five witches.

***

After ten minutes, Sam felt a pair of hands grip his head and command him to stand. He did. Next, he felt his head turned to the right and a hot wet, mouth began kissing him passionately... devouringly. He was aware it was not Marcy, based on the technique, lips and tongue, and smell of the lipstick.

Then while still being kissed intensely, he felt a hand and then a tongue run along the length of his cock before feeling the tip of his cock being pulled into a hot wet mouth that sucked him hard enough to give him a hickey on his glans. Then the lips of that sweet mouth proceeded further and further down along the shaft of his meat. He felt the tip of his cock meet the back of a throat and felt a slight gag response jerking motion before that mouth began pulling away with a constant tight grip of tongue and lips on his shaft until it reached the sensitive frenulum of his cock, where the unknown woman swirled her tongue at that sweet spot several times before sliding her tight mouth grip back down his shaft to fully engulf him again. Soon the mouth was bobbing furiously up and down the length of him and he couldn't help himself; Sam reached out with his hands and grasped two handfuls of hair at the base of the unknown woman's skull and began furiously face-fucking her. There was little resistance from that mouth that continued sucking him furiously until he spurted gushes of hot cum that he felt being pulled down her throat by swallowing motions that further stimulated his sensitive cock head and she shot another two bursts of cum into her heavenly mouth. Finally, she pulled away and he was aware of her grip on his waist as she pulled herself up to face him. Hands pulled the rubberized black pumpkin from parts of his face to free his eyes. After blinking slowly and wincing from the lights he made out the face of Marcy in front of him, smiling brightly and with a dribble of cum running from the corner of her mouth before she wiped it with her finger. Beside her was Grace, also smiling brightly with slightly smeared lipstick, and he figured she was the woman who had kissed him while Marcy was sucking him. Both women stepped back and he saw they were wearing unusually thick rubbery panties and corsets, orange-coloured and slightly ribbed, like pumpkins. And then he saw on the tops and bottoms of each woman's outfits his distorted but unmistakable writing in silver ink: This pumpkin is mine, Sam.

"I'm thinking you'll be OK with fucking lots of pumpkins tonight darling," Marcy whispered to Sam in his partly uncovered left ear. Then she kissed him passionately. He tasted his own cum on her lips and tongue and then felt the sensation of another body--Grace--gliding down the length of his body to renew the sucking on his still erect cock. Sam was amazed he was still hard. Grace and Marcy were not surprised--they had suspected the aphrodisiac effect of rubberized pumpkin would be more intense on men, especially when molded in its warm chemically active form directly on skin that was not protected by a latex barrier.

Sam swooned in the pleasure of Grace's expert sweet mouth and was soon moaning "Gracy, Gracy, Gracy" as he surged to another orgasm and filled his girlfriend's mother's mouth without a shred of guilt. As he finished cumming into Grace's greedy mouth, he looked down to see Marcy kneeling beside her mother, without any apparent trace of jealousy, and then popping her own mouth back on Sam's still stiff cock to suck the remnants of cum her mother had left behind. After she pulled away with her mouth so tightly wrapped around him, there as slight 'pop' sound that made mother and daughter giggle.

Then Marcy, smiled sweetly and said "Welcome to tonight's ceremony. I should have mentioned this before--not that you'd have believed me--but along with the all-important ceremony of The Merger at midnight, the coven celebrates by wild and wanton orgies before and after the ceremony... lasting until dawn. As you can imagine from who is here, tonight will mostly be female-female play--but some of the coven also play with men in the outside world. Don't be surprised if you find yourself in high demand, seeing as you're the only man here."

Sam stood stunned and remained silent, unsure if he was now allowed to talk.

Grace spoke next "I know you've been as attracted to me as much as I've been attracted to you Sam. I'm going to enjoy fucking your brains out tonight. That's Marcy's and my gift to you. I'm sure you'll always honour and love her... and give her--and me--the sexual pleasure we both deserve, just as we'll always love and pleasure you."

Sam still didn't understand (and never would understand) that The Merger was an actual physical merger of Marcy and Grace into a new form of Marcy--and that when he and Marcy were together, Grace was always present within Marcy and enjoying Marcy and Sam's life together as a spiritual voyeur.

For tonight, thoughts of merging entities were furthest from Sam's mind... He was interested in physically merging as often as he could with Marcy, Grace, and any other witch who would have him. He picked up Grace, kissed her furiously and passionately. "I'm going to fuck you hard and furiously though those pumpkin panties!" he growled, "and then repeat the same with Marcy!"

Grace growled back, "I'd love that... and remember there is no need to be gentle even if you think you've rubbed me raw. I like it rough--as you'll find out later in the dungeon. And these rubberized pumpkin panties we invented are crotchless and very durable. I'm thinking I'll break you before you break them... and then I'll let my daughter have you back for a try. Consider it product testing!", she laughed.

Then Grace jumped up as quickly and lithely as cat, wrapped her arms around Sam's neck and kissed him furiously while her legs wrapped around his torso and she lowered herself onto his still hard cock. Sam felt his cock slide past the curiously pliable rubbery slit of the RP panties and then into the glorious wet folds of her tight pussy. Grace started bobbing up and down slowly and then more furiously, begging him to grab her ass and stick some of his fingers in her anus to help her "broomstick riding" technique.

Sam, Marcy and Grace fucked wildly for the next two hours in bondage and impact play before providing Grace with her send-off airtight scenario, with Marcy 'manning' one strap-on and lying on her back while her mother straddled her and rode her vigorously. Vivian used her strap-on to rail her mother's ass/ All the while Grace was being fucked by Marcy and Vivian she and repeatedly screaming in her frenzied horny state that she had been "begging for a pegging, begging for a pegging, beg...". Sam stepped up to her open screaming mouth and filled it with his cock. Grace's words became a garbled "begginggginggg,''.... then "argghh argghh"... and finally fast rhythmic "gluck, gluck, gluck...'" sounds keeping time with Sam's thrusts as his cock filled her to the back of her throat and she was struggling to breathe and not gag. Grace was loving every minute of being drilled simultaneously in all three holes.

At 5 minutes to midnight Grace was thoroughly ravished and debauched and barely able to walk arm in arm with Marcy, who helped her up the stairs to the cauldron. The witches had assembled around the cauldron again at this time. Grace gasped out her farewell, telling her sisters how much she had always loved them and would continue to love them after The Merger with Marcy. She asked them to love and support Marcy as the newest member of the coven and wished Vivian well as next coven Mother.

Then mother and daughter kissed and stepped into the Cauldron simultaneously... and disappeared into its depths.

Sam waited apprehensively and after several seconds neither Marcy nor Grace climbed up the pool ladder. In a panic he raced up the stairway to the cauldron, only to be restrained from jumping in by three rather fast and strong witches.

Sam peered into the cauldron and saw no bodies at all in the clear liquid. Marcy and Grace had vanished!

He was about to cry out in anguish, but he heard the comforting voice of Marcy calling out from the cauldron with a somewhat stern voice: "There is no need to panic, Sam, I will see you at dawn." And then more brightly, she added: "Until then, enjoy the celebration orgy."

***

Sam did enjoy himself--immensely and wantonly all evening in countless scenarios with multiple witches. At dawn, he was strapped to a St. Andrew's cross and being flogged by a delicious blond from Saskatchewan that he had eaten to multiple orgasms 20 minutes before. This flogging was her 'thank you' to him. A witch from Texas was conveniently strapped to the cross, too, in front of him as the 'filling' in a St. Andrew's cross sandwich. And while he was enjoying his anal ride inside 'Miss Texas' he was wondering whether his flinches from the flogging expertly delivered by 'Saskatchewan' were helping or hurting his thrusting rhythm and technique... when suddenly the lights in the room dimmed. The witches stopped what they were doing and went silent.

Sam and the Texas witch were quickly released from the cross and they joined the witches who were now all gathered around the cauldron. Only three lights dimly lit the cauldron, to protect Marcy's sensitive eyes. Sam saw hands grasp the swimming pool railing and he leaped with joy when he saw Marcy climb to the top of the stairs. She was completely naked. She paused briefly, to smile and wave to her sisters, and then blow a kiss to Sam. By the time she stepped down onto the floor she was completely dry. She mingled with her sisters in the coven, hugging and laughing with them while they efficiently formed a well-choreographed line-up. Marcy, still naked, kissed each witch in turn, saying "I love you, sister," to each one. When she finally got to Sam, she kissed him passionately, and kissed him for two, feeling her mother's mind and presence within her.

"Take me home, Sam. I'm so tired I feel like I could sleep for a century."

"Yes, my love, my sweet little witch. But where is your mother?"

"No need to worry, Sam, she is quite well and safe. And we really must leave now. The coven has other business--and much celebrating to do during the rest of the day."

Sam reluctantly waved goodbye to the coven, who waved back. He was understandably sad to leave such a pleasurable celebration, and he wanted one more time with Grace.

He smiled to Marcy. "You've given me a night I'll ever forget..."

"Ah Sam... one other thing. Before we leave, you need to be the last to be cleansed in the Cauldron."

"Ah sure, Marcy. Understood. It must be part of the ceremony that everyone must dip into the cauldron at some point."

Sam confidently strode to the top of the cauldron, waved to Marcy and the onlooking witches, and then stepped into... oblivion.

Halloween 2026 - One year later - Early afternoon. Sam lay in their bed, facing the ceiling. His wrists and ankles were in luxurious cuffs made of RP material and he was bound spreadeagle to the four posts of the headboard and footboard. The bedcovers were made of sewn panels of RP material--to keep the underlying bedding from getting wet, Marcy had explained. But she also wanted him exposed to a good dose of the RP for its aphrodisiac effect to take hold, so he'd be a savage sexual animal for tonight--even more savage and lustful than he normally was. She needed him to be able to keep up with her, and tonight's all-night activities.

***

After Sam had awoken after The Merger Halloween last year, he had no memory at all of that evening, not even fleeting images of witches or rubberized pumpkins or Grace's airtight frenzy or the 'anal flogging sandwich' with 'Miss Texas'... nothing.

Sam and Marcy had married the past June. Sam had been surprised by the large attendance of mostly unmarried women on Marcy's guest list who had come to the wedding ceremony without a 'plus one'. He was also surprised and disappointed that Grace had been unable to attend - The Mother of the Bride for fuck's sake', Sam had thought. But he got over it. Sam had a dim recollection that the party after the wedding was incredibly wild and fun--but damned if he could remember a single detail about it. He figured he'd drunk too much but didn't recall being hungover the next day when they went on their honeymoon.

Since he had met Marcy, Sam had remained faithful to her and was pleasantly surprised how her libido and interest in BDSM had doubled--no, tripled--immediately after last Halloween.

Since The Merger, Marcy could not say the same about being faithful. (She didn't count her sexual adventures with her mother before The Merger as cheating. She figured she's been fucking herself--just a little bit earlier than planned!) Marcy tried very hard to remain faithful dammit, but the Grace inside her was insistent on getting regular wild and rough sex with men and women-- preferably in a group setting.

***

"I'm looking forward to us going to tonight's Halloween party at that new underground club I told you about--The Merger," he heard Marcy say with a horny, demented growl that sounded remarkably like Grace's voice. "I hear they have an especially delightful main course called 'Airtight' that I'm looking forward to trying. I may even having two or more helpings--served by different 'wait staff'..." then emitted that familiar 'wicked witch' laughter.

"I'm now going to cover your head with a hood. I'm sure you'll enjoy the sensory deprivation," she explained and she fit an RP hood with just a triangular cutout for his mouth and nose and zipped it up the back.

"Hmmm," Sam mused. "I've never tried a hood like this before. I think I'm going to like it!"

"You have no idea," Marcy replied gaily. She then kissed him passionately on the mouth before applying an RP gag. "Now let's pretend I'm a witch and I'm about to mount my broomstick for a wild ride!"

Marcy/Grace was wearing RP panties with a split crotch. She let out another loud and demented 'wicked witch' laugh as she straddled Sam and felt his hot stiffness slip past the rubbery slit of her panties, spread her labia, and enter her as she lowered herself (and Grace) onto him and began her frantic, frenzied ride.

The end.

© 2026. Ivor Knightly.