The Halloween Dangler

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Difficult seduction of the Halloween dangler, bull dropper.
14.8k words
4.7
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The Difficult Seduction of the Halloween Dangler, Snake Cracker, Bull Dropper and Pacifist Contender.

*

Christie was ready. Dressed in black with a tall conical hat and carrying a straw broom. She'd even had time to paint her face black. And her legs. And her arms. She'd been ready for a while, was extremely excited, and I was the slow poke. I didn't really want to go. Parties are not my best entertainment. I had the engine out of the Ford and wanted to get on with the repair. But we had to go, so I put a cloth over the engine to keep out the bloody dust and was soon in the shower scrubbing off the grease. Halloween. What the hell is that?

We don't have that here. Another commercial opportunity for the bloody retailers, that's all. Ernie Briggle was once going to be a real retailer, and a detailer too. So many dogs getting around with their tails, there'd be plenty of business in detailing. And when the fashion changes he'd have the retailing shop across the road to put them back on. No shortage of dog's tails. What are little boys made of? Slugs and snails and puppy dog's tails. Surely he could get them from where they do. I never quite knew if he was serious. It didn't matter really, I knew he was an idiot. When ever I think of a retailer, I think of him.

In the car Christie nursed the plate of food we were contributing. Lucky she'd put cling film over it, her paint was coming off. She looked very different painted black. It was obviously paint and not beautiful and natural The stubbies of beer were in the esky with ice around them, and a bottle of orange juice was on top for me. I've never liked yeast urine, never understood why it's so popular.

At the Bowsmiths there were always a lot of things I didn't like. When we arrived we were greeted at the door. Our host took the things we'd brought and we went through the house into their back yard. There were a lot of men standing around, holding their yeast urine and doing their best to be conversationally clever. There wasn't much to substantiate how clever they were, a lot of them looked like they'd be clueless about a lot of things. Some of them were black, dressed and painted for the occasion and looking very embarrassed.

No one knew what to do for Halloween. People milled around looking at others to see what to do. With everyone in black it looked like a bloody funeral. Embarrassing. We celebrate the cup and its legends like Archer, Gunsynd and Phar Lap. Didn't they know that? The cup is exciting, not like this. I'd rather be with the Ford.

The women weren't much better, their skirts high enough that it was difficult not to see their panties and indeed, it seemed the only reason one couldn't see panties was because a lot of them were wearing thongs or G strings. I guess they liked to floss. I would have thought they'd choose black underwear to be discrete. Obviously there was no intention to be discrete. Funny thing though, they all seemed to be dressed identically, like some one had bought a bolt of fabric and run up a lot of skirts. Christie was the odd one out, her skirt wasn't cut from the same bolt of cloth.

Their shirts were also black distinguished by their brevity and often quite transparent with out a bra. I guess they thought that being painted black it wouldn't be noticed. One woman had her unpainted tits poking through big holes in her shirt and when asked she explained that if she was going to ride her broom stick in the dark she'd need head lights The jewellery glittered on their fingers and toes, on their arms, in their cleavages and hanging from their ears. The make up was caked on and they had a predatory look about them.

I wanted to leave but Christie didn't. I noticed she'd hitched her skirt up to show her panties. They all wanted to be the focus of attention with loud laughter and silly antics.

A lot of them had straw brooms and tiring of carrying them around the ladies passed the handle of the broom through the crutch of their panties to be held up, with their hands available for drinking. Even Christie did it. Bloody hell. I didn't see any of them checking for splinters. When the weight of the broom was too much for the panties, there was a theatrical screech from the lady concerned and a cheer from the rest of them. It was mildly interesting to see whether the paint jobs covered every thing.

As the evening progressed more of them cut holes in their shirts so their head lights poked through. Some washed the paint off their tits, leaning over the pool and dried them with a towel. Then they cut holes in their shirts and poked their head lights through.

No one was in the swimming pool yet and mercifully, no one was using the exercise apparatus. My exercise was always in the work I did. I also did weights. Every morning I raised my eyebrows five times. I didn't need more. I certainly didn't want any one showing me up with their finesse on an exercise machine. But, my wishes weren't to prevail.

It wasn't long and Angie was showing everyone how clever she was, running on a machine with her head lights heaving and her skirt flipping up at every step to show how brief her thong was. Emma, took over and demonstrated her briefer thong and bouncier tits. I could see a good part of her labia. The other men obviously revelled in the exhibition and women egged her on. My experience is there's always a price to such exhibitions.

One of the women dispensed with underwear and had big holes in the back of her skirt. She explained as she held her breasts up that if she needed head lights surely she needed tail lights. Another woman gave her bum a slap to make the tail lights red. I wondered what she'd use for indicators.

One of the men said the girls were into wrestling. Then there was a splash and when I turned I saw some one had jumped into the pool, a woman who'd left a heap of clothes on the side of the pool and was risking only her thong to the chlorine. The water around her was turning grey as the paint came off.

The party was in full swing as others shed their clothes and jumped in. They were all topless and many were bottomless too. They splashed each other and squealed with the fun of the exhibition. I think it was a relief for them not having to think of what to do for bloody Halloween. Beside me I could feel Christie getting excited. Some one called her to join them and with out looking back she raced to the side of the pool and stripped off. The water was black, I wanted her to stop and called her.

"Christie! Come here." She chose to ignore me. I watched as she stood at the pool edge, naked for everyone to see. She held her tits up as though offering them to everyone. Then she did a little run and dived in. Unfortunately, she managed to kick a pile of clothes into the pool. I've no doubt it was an accident.

Emma disagreed. The moment Christie emerged from her dive she was attacked. I saw the arms go around Christie's neck and watched as her face turned blue. There were words too.

"Bloody bitch, you'll pay for that." I moved closer. I thought Christie was becoming purple. It was difficult to know with the paint. I was on the edge of the pool and asked that Christie be let go. I told Emma it was an accident. She tightened her grip and Christie was flailing around helplessly. Her colour was going to dark blue and I knew I had to do some thing. I jumped in and pulled Emma's arms from around Christie's neck. She started coughing and breathing again. I grabbed Christie, pulled her to the side of the pool and lifted her out of the water.

It was time to go. Unfortunately they didn't agree. Angie was standing on Christie's clothes and Emma was standing between us and the gate.

I told them I was very sorry for what had happened and we were leaving. Angie said we weren't leaving, we'd caused offence and they had the right to retribution. I told them not to be so bloody difficult, that an apology should suffice. They didn't agree. They wanted to wrestle. I told them I don't fight. Christie's colour was returning and she said she wanted to go home. They said we could, after a wrestling match with me. I told them I was a pacifist, I attended peace rallies, I wasn't interested in fighting. Then Christie made a mistake, she told them I was very strong.

"How strong?" asked Angie.

"He lifts up the car to change the wheel." Christie said.

"Is that all?" Angie asked.

"He lifted the engine block out of the Ford yesterday," Christie said. I explained the bloody jack had broken as did a chain on the block and tackle. There were people all around listening. I saw some one putting down those jigsaw pads. I wondered why.

"You a sissy?" asked Emma.

"No- just don't like fighting."

"You're a sissy aren't you!" she told me. The onlookers murmured.

"I don't care if I am."

"Well, if you ain't wrestling you ain't leaving." There was a murmur of agreement.

"Why not just wrestle, then we can leave," Christie said.

"Well, first I don't like fighting, I won't fight our hosts, I won't fight a lady and I don't have clothes- I'm not doing anything in these wet clothes but go home. A pair of swimming trunks was thrown into my lap.

"There you go, Paul," Christie said. I looked around. I saw Angie had changed. She was in a wrestling outfit I guessed. A bikini. I was surprised by its brevity. I wasn't happy. Bloody Halloween.

"I don't know the rules," I told them. "What are the rules?" I'd never watched any wrestling. If that came on I'd turn it off. People laughed. They didn't believe me.

"If you don't wrestle you're not leaving," I was told again. The people around me, I hesitate to call people, looked especially menacing. I was worried what they'd do to Christie and what she'd do to me. What she was saying was getting me into more and more trouble and I didn't think I deserved it. I was on my knees holding her.

Some one gave me a shove. I wasn't expecting it and nearly dropped Christie. Another person pushed me. This wasn't my idea of entertainment. A lot of them around me had plenty of yeast urine on board. I had no interest in fighting a woman. I'd never fought a woman. I'd always been taught to walk away, no exception and that's what I was trying to do.

"You're a coward," some one said. I'd never seen him before. Christie told him I wasn't.

"You should see him with snakes," she said, with a big, loud voice, "he picks them up by the tail and cracks them like a whip. Their heads come off. He's no coward." I just wished Christie would keep her mouth shut.

"Don't say that." I told her. "This is my problem, let me do the bloody talking."

"Is that right?" Angie asked.

"Yeah, only because some one keeps moving the bloody shovel." The only some one that could be is Christie, I keep telling her to leave it there but she always moves it, telling me it's untidy. Silly bitch. Then she wants me to get rid of the snakes. I keep telling her not to leave water lying around, Tiddlypoo can get a drink from the bowl on the bench. But Tiddlypoo can choose to drink from so many bowls in so many places, all of them accessible to bloody snakes. No wonder they're around.

One day Tiddlypoo will get bitten. Then there's the bloody vet bills. They oblige people to do the right thing, spend a fortune saving the poor animal when the kindest thing would be to put them down. Emotional black mail. The animal isn't saved, it dies in pain but the bloody vet has been able to update his anti venom supply and his bloody car.

I was shoved again. I looked at him and told him to mind his own business- this had nothing to do with him and he can leave me alone. Another guy gave me a push. I stood, grabbed him under the arm pits and tossed him into the pool. Another man looked very menacing. I asked him to move away. He didn't. Bastard. I grabbed his legs and when he fell I got him by the ankles, lifted him over the side of the pool and dangled him in the water. A few coins fell our of his pocket. He started to struggle, a little short of air. I couldn't see his head, the water was so black.

"What dangles?" I asked Angie and I gave her the answer, "Little shits like this," and I let him go. I had a quick look to be sure he was still alive, saw him take a deep breath and the glint of gold on a wrist as he started to swim away. It probably wasn't the smartest thing I've ever done. Another was tempting me to do the same to him. I grabbed his hand and warned him he could soon be dangling too. He moved away, far enough to be out of reach but close enough to surprise me with a sneaky punch.

I looked around. I counted. There were seven enormous men standing around, arms folded, looking at me, a full candelabrum of menace. I squared up ready to take them on. I didn't give a stuff whether they had tattoos or not. GT stripes might make a car go faster but I've never heard of them having an impact on a person. Isn't it funny when you're in trouble how, so often, the enemy is the most useful person there? Christie was whimpering. I wished she'd get her clothes on. Bugger Halloween.

"Don't you think it would be easier to have a wrestle and then go?" Angie asked.

I thought about it. I couldn't think of any other way that would be easier. The situation was well beyond my control. I felt very exposed being one of very few not to be painted. I'd had enough. There must have been a hundred people looking on, crowding in and not one was at all supportive of me. Even bloody Christie was on their side. I sensed the degree of manipulation and there was some thing happening I couldn't figure out.

As they say, silence is consent. Mrs. Bowsmith took me by the hand and apparently navigating with her head lights led me to the swimming pool's shed. The smell of chlorine was strong. She shut the door and I started to undress. I kept trying to figure out another way. When I had the swimming trunks on I had a look. They were certainly brief but all was in order, just. My wedding tackle was enclosed with no room for any thing more. I stacked my clothes on the lawn mower and considered what I'd do. I thought the best thing would be for me to keep moving. Then I wouldn't be an easy target.

There was a knock on the door, I opened it and Mrs. Bowsmith asked if I was ready. Lucky there was a skylight in the shed, she didn't have to turn her head lights on. I told her I wasn't but she led the way and I followed her tail lights. Some fool shouted that I was the challenger and called me the Snake Cracker, the Halloween Contender. The noise was bloody huge, people shouting, whistling...

I finally realised what the jigsaw pads were for. I looked around and saw so many faces looking back at me. I figured we wouldn't be lacking in light with so many head lights showing. Angie was in the middle of them waiting for me. She reached out, I took her hands and started moving around. I figured that if I was clever the momentum would be useful. She dropped a hand, put it on my back and put her hip in front of me. I turned in the opposite direction to the one I thought she expected and pulled her hand with me. I wasn't quick enough- she was on my back with her legs either side, linked at her ankles, squeezing me.

I stayed on my feet and turned around a few times. I figured if I was getting giddy she would too and I put my arm between her legs so if she squeezed me she'd feel the point of my elbow. It didn't take long and she dropped her hold and stood facing me. I imagined she'd possibly get a bruise below her knee some where.

She grabbed my arm and tried to bend it behind my back, I turned her around and had her arm up her back. Then I tripped her and she fell. She got up and we linked hands again. Around and around we went. Then I rushed at her wondering what she'd do. She fell backwards and I held her up so she wouldn't hurt her head.

She stood, grabbed my arm and tried to sling me off my feet. She lost her footing. I wasn't much bigger than her but I had strength and my agility probably surprised her. She tried to lift her self up and wrap her legs around me again. I pushed her away. I could see she was getting frustrated.

She made a grab at my feet. I jumped and my knee went down on her back. I didn't intend that. Her next move surprised me, she rushed at me, trying to grab me and force me to the floor, I put my arms around her and squeezed the breath out of her.

I let her go again and felt very guilty when I saw her bra had been broken. She pulled it off and bare breasted continued. She didn't look at all happy. She caught my hand and I tensed it so she couldn't do any thing with it- she wasn't strong enough. She let go, dropped to the floor and tried to trap my legs with hers. She managed to trap one and I stood and watched her, wondering how it was an advantage. There was laughter from the crowd.

She stood to face me again and started walking around me. Then she jumped and had her arm around my neck. I bent over and quickly she was on my back. I did a somersault and she let go. I picked her up by the ankles and started to walk to the pool.

Suddenly some one jumped on my back and had their bloody legs around my waist, trying to make me a size twenty four instead of the thirty two I'm accustomed to. I guessed it was Emma. I put Angie down and started peeling the legs apart. Angie walked around behind me and crashed in to the back of my knees. I went down. I was still working on the legs around me when Angie wrapped her arms around my neck again.

I turned over so I could get to my knees. From there I lifted my head and started to stand. I figured I could jump in the pool and they'd let go or drown. I took two steps when another set of arms locked around my legs and I over balanced. No one had told me I'd be wrestling two people, let alone bloody three. I tried to kick my legs free but it was impossible.

"Submit?" yelled Angie. What the hell is that supposed to mean? The inequity of it. I figured there had to be a way out. I tried to roll over but didn't have the leverage. I tried to pull my legs up but some one was sitting on my knees.

"Bugger them," I thought. "I didn't have to do any thing." So, I relaxed a little, thinking it would encourage them to relax as well. If they did relax I could possibly escape. My opponents were taking deep breaths, I started to hum a little bit of Mozart. The Magic Flute. It's nice to divert one's self from one's troubles. It also helped to drown out the screaming crowd. They wanted action. I saw no reason as to why they couldn't take my place. In fact, I'd encourage them. Then I could go. Bugger Halloween. I just hoped bloody Christie was dressed.

The Flute wasn't effective. It didn't lull them into a more charming mood. I couldn't figure a way out. People were shouting and laughing. Some one grabbed my arm. I stiffened it so they couldn't do anything. I couldn't either. There was some thing I could do. With my other thumb I pushed into the flesh of one of my opponents and twisted it around. It would have to hurt and possibly cause a bruise. They grabbed that arm. As I was on my back they couldn't put it there. I gave a heave and arched my back. It was futile. I tried to roll but it was bloody impossible.

Then I felt a hand on my stomach. Probably trying to get a new grip, I thought. I waited, thinking I'd become very active if they tried to change their grip. The hand trailed down. I felt fingers go under the elastic of the swimming trunks. I took deep breaths thinking I'd soon be bucking and bouncing around.

I felt the fingers lift the waist band. Probably trying to help with my modesty . The fingers moved under the waist band and slowly seemed to be pulling the bloody swimming trunks down. I tried to yell but the arm around my neck made it impossible. The cool air helped confirm it. I bucked and writhed trying to make it difficult but more bloody hands became involved and the swimming trunks continued their downward slide. There was a hitch. The waist band was lifted away from my fuck'n penis and quickly pulled down.