Here I was, it was nearly midnight on Halloween. Jerry and Michael had dared me to spend the night alone in the old Baker house on Main Street. I didn't think anything of it at the time, in the bright Autumn sunlight, so, of course, I'd agreed, I mean, what self respecting ten-year-old girl could pass up the opportunity to prove she's better than, or at least as good as, her older brothers? And it wasn't like it was really haunted; it was just a bit neglected since old lady Baker had moved to the retirement home last year. But now, in the middle of the night, and on Halloween, maybe it wasn't such a good idea after all. And I couldn't even run to Daddy's, or Michael's, or Jerry's bed when I got scared, like I usually did.
Oh, how I wish I could do that now, he would rub me, down there, till I started feeling really good, while I slid my hand up and down his cock, then I'd climb on top of him and put it in… 'Wait, what? Where did that come from? Nothing like that ever happened, that would be gross!' …but I wasn't there, I was here, in this creepy old house and too scared to sleep.
I couldn't sleep, so I might as well explore the house. I went to the light switch by the front door, but, of course, they didn't work, the power'd been turned off. So I got my flashlight from my bag. I shone it around the living room, all the furniture was still here, covered in sheets, a sofa, an easy chair, a table against the far wall, where the TV had probably been, I couldn't tell if it had been stolen or Ms. Baker had taken it with her, but there was a TV cable coming in through the wall there; some end tables and a coffee table, that was about it for the living room.
I imagined myself lying on the floor in my night shirt, watching cartoons, while showing off my backside and pussy to my brothers on the couch, or sitting in Daddy's lap watching one of his special movies, while he fingered my pussy and I rubbed his cock with my butt crack.
To the left was a doorway to the dining room, with a big table, and six chairs, one on each end and two on each side.
I was lying on the table, looking up at the chandelier while Daddy "ate" me for breakfast, or maybe dessert.
I shook my head and was back in the doorway to the dining room, my pussy so wet it was soaking into my panties, making them very uncomfortable. So I sat on the floor, there in the doorway, took off my shoes and socks, then my jeans and panties, and absently dropped them all right there. I thought I heard what sounded like a sigh, "Aaahhh," from the ceiling as I stood up to continue exploring in just my sweater and top.
The front wall of the dining room was a large picture window, boarded up now, which would have overlooked the front garden and the street.
Men and boys were watching me through the window as I danced naked on the table top.
'What the Hell was that?!' I thought as I thought I felt/heard the house sag a little and realized I was, indeed, naked from the waist down, and there was a sheet of plywood in front of me, not a window with an audience behind it.
I shrugged, 'There's no one here to see me, anyway,' and continued exploring. There was another sigh like sound from the house.
There was a door in the wall opposite the doorway to the living room, and the back wall was a half bar with four stools and doorway into the kitchen.
On the counter top of the bar I saw a roasting platter with a roasted animal of some sort I didn't quite recognize, [...], and the table was set for a holiday feast, maybe Christmas, or Thanksgiving, and looking back into the living room I saw a card table set up for the "kids table", [...]. Then I heard another sigh from the house, this one louder and sounding more human and everything was dark and dusty again. "This is getting weird," I said aloud, "but, at least it's not scary."
As I went into the kitchen I was rubbing my pussy with the hand not holding the flashlight. It was a normal kitchen, with built in stove, refrigerator, bottom freezer, oven, microwave, and dishwasher. Counter all the way around, except the wall opposite the living room, which had a door in it, and next to the sink, a door into the back yard. Cabinets above and below the counter, including over the bar, a double sink in the counter on the back wall with a window over it overlooking the back yard, from which I could also see a garage, and a butchers block in the center.
I saw Mommy standing at the sink doing dishes wearing only an apron tied at her waist, the boys, and their friends playing in the back yard, unable to take their eyes off her tits. And other times, Mommy bending over to get something from the freezer and Daddy, or one of the boys, coming up behind her, flipping her skirt up, and fucking her from behind. And other times, Daddy fixing one of his specialties, that needed constant attention, and me "helping" by blowing him as he stood in front of the stove or counter. I licked my lips thinking of it, and there was a strange salty/creamy taste I didn't recognize, but I liked, and wanted more of. I imagined the house smiling at that.
I tried the door in the wall opposite the living room. It opened into a room lined with shelves, and with metal hooks hanging from the roof beams, and another butchers' block in the middle. It was cool and dark in here, with no windows, and the room seemed to extend to the front of the house, with another door opening into the dining room, but there was a wall across it with another door, right here, I tried that one and it opened to an even darker room whose walls were black, with what seemed to be soot when I touched them, the whole room smelled smoky, and there were more hooks, but no shelves.
I saw the smaller room with meat; hams, slabs of bacon, [...], and ribs; hanging from the hooks in the rafters, a small, smoky fire smoldering on a stone in the center of the floor. In the other room the shelves were covered with cans and canning jars full of various and sundry things; fruits, berries, [...], pigs feet, eggs, eyes, etc; and various cheeses; and big bags, like grandpa gets for his dog food, labeled as flour, sugar, beans, salt, and so on. I saw Daddy, naked, cutting something up on the butchers' block, and taking the pieces into the smoke room to hang, but I couldn't make out what it was.
I went back out through the dining room, closing the doors behind me. After I left the cool darkness of the pantry, 'So that's what it is,' I thought, 'How do I know that?' I was suddenly too warm for my sweater, so I took it off. When my shirt came with it I didn't bother putting it back on and I dropped them where I was.
Across the living room from the dining room, kitchen, and pantry was another doorway into a hallway with four doors in it, one toward the front of the house, two toward the back, and one at the far end. Somehow I knew, my room was the first on the back, the common bathroom was the second.
This sometimes causes problems because all the time, when we have company, people, always men for some reason, would go to the first door instead of the second when looking for the bathroom and I'd wake up with some man fucking me, I don't make a big deal of it because sometimes, even when we don't have company, I'll wake up with Daddy or one of the boys fucking me, or maybe one of Mommy's boyfriends, when Daddy's out of town.
The boys are in the front bedroom, with two double beds, like a hotel room, so there's room if either or both of them have "company", or when I get scared and go to their room, the house rule is that bedroom doors are to stay shut, especially if we have guests in our rooms, unless we want other family members joining our parties.
The second door on the back is the common bathroom, with a combined shower and bathtub a toilet and lavatory, the door doesn't have a lock so people walk in on each other all the time. I suppose it saves time, but sometimes it's embarrassing. "And, if a girl isn't carful it can even make her embarasado," I giggled. 'Those Spanish lessons aren't a complete waste, after all.'
The door at the end of the hall was to Mom and Dad's bedroom with a California king bed, big enough for the whole family should the need arise, his and hers walk in closets, and its own attached bathroom with separate tub and shower, two lavatories, a toilet, and a bidet.
The baby was still sleeping in there so there was a crib, too. When she gets a bit older, she'll be moved in with me, or into my room anyway, if they'll let me, I might move in with the boys. Daddy says I can, but if I do I'll have to do whatever they want with no complaints and they'll get to choose my clothes. I'm thinking about it. It might be a small price to pay to not have to sleep in the same room with The Brat. But on the other hand, then she'd get the men who go to the wrong door looking for the bathroom. I'll think about it some more.
When I looked in the various rooms, I found I was almost completely wrong. "My" room, for instance, was some sort of sewing room, the dimensions of the room were exactly as I'd imagined but instead of my toys; and dolls; and bed; and the little nightstand with my dildos, and vibrators, and lubes in it; there was a sewing machine, and a dresser with patterns and big swatches of cloth, and, in one corner, where it would get good light from the window, was a stretching rack with a half finished embroidery project on it. What there was of it looked like a picture of a little girl and an old man, both naked, playing some sort of game.
But I could also see my room, with the embroidered picture hanging on the wall over my bed, finished. I looked closer and saw that the pictures had labels, the girl's said "Elizabeth Baker, beloved and loving daughter and wife. 1903 – 2011" and the man's said "Henry Baker, beloved and loving father and husband. 1890 – 1974." And across the bottom in a ribbon was the motto, "The Family that Plays Together Stays Together," with a butterfly on either end whose wings were shaped like four hearts two large ones above and two small ones below in diagonally symmetrical colors, pink and pale blue. Pinned to the picture was a note:
To Lucile Regina Jones,
Dear Lucy,
Welcome to our house, I've enjoyed your company so far, and I hope you've enjoyed the entertainments I arranged for you so far, and will continue to enjoy them for the rest of the night. The best is yet to come, er cum, er, no come, well maybe both.
Tomorrow, after you've gotten some sleep, ask your father to buy you this house, maybe as your 11th birthday present. I'll have talked to Lizzy by then and she'll agree to whatever it takes to get you in here. One thing though, the title should be in your name. The house likes you, it hasn't met your family, yet, except in your mind, so it's an absolute condition, it's you Lizzy will sell the house to, no one else.
With Love and lust,
Henry Baker.
P.S. take the embroidery to Lizzy, so she can finish it. HB
P.P.S. No one will ever notice that you're naked, unless you want them to, including you.
P.P.P.S. Keep the house full of love and lust and passion and babies, and it will support you for the rest of your life.
That was weird, a note addressed to me personally, from a man who'd died 26 years before I was born, and using my full name, which no one outside the family used, though Daddy sometimes calls me Queen Lucy. I looked more closely at the easel the embroidery was on and saw that the stretcher was attached by a couple of wing nuts, so I took it off and put it next to my bag in the living room. The second P.S. reminded me that I was naked, which had slipped my mind, so I went to gather my clothes to put them in my bag, but they weren't where I'd left them. There wasn't even any disturbance in the dust, other than my footprints changing from sneakers to bare feet.
'What am I doing over here and what are those strange markings that turn into my footprints?'
I went back to exploring the hallway. The boys' room was in fact an office of some sort, with a desk and a computer and printer table, though the computer and printer weren't there, and two windows overlooking the front yard and the street.
I was hanging in one of the windows suspended spread eagled in wrist and ankle cuffs mounted on a ring and with a ring around my waist supported by bars attached to the frame ring, Martha was in a similar, but smaller, ring hanging in the other window and the boys were having some sort of slumber party with their buddies, and a few girls, from their school. Fucking, and bragging, and drinking, and smoking, and playing sex games, and bragging games, and drinking games, and talking about how DOM they are, all the sorts of things boys like to do. Every so often someone, sometimes even one of the girls, would tickle, or lick, or finger fuck either me or Martha, once or twice one stayed at it long enough for me to get off. They couldn't actually fuck us because we were suspended too high, our twats almost exactly aligned to the height of a 12 to 14 year old's mouth. What Jerry and Michael's guests didn't know was that they weren't allowed to lock these contraptions, and I could get out any time I wanted. For now Martha's had to be latched so that she couldn't open it, but that was only so she wouldn't injure herself by falling if she unlatched it before she learned how to get down on her own.
The boys' beds were against the hallway wall on either side of the door, so they could lie in bed and look out their windows, "or look at the decorations in their windows," I grinned. They each had separate closets, at the ends of the room, and beside their beds, opposite the door, they each had a small "student" desk with a computer on it. They shared a printer, which was on a table against the outside wall between the windows. And against the outside wall opposite the computer desks they each had a chest of drawers. Lying in the receiving tray of the printer, where I could see it from my suspended position, was a picture one of their buddies had taken of his father fucking his little sister, a girl a little younger than me.
I started to say something to Jerry, who wasn't busy at the moment, but the party was gone and I was back in the home office, though, I did notice the same picture on the floor, near where Lizzy's printer had been, and rubbed myself thinking about it, wishing it was me.
The common bathroom was pretty much as I'd pictured it except that it didn't appear to have been used in a while, as it appeared to be being used for storage. There were folded towels, and sheets and economy size bundles of paper towels and toilet paper, that sort of stuff.
I'd just gotten into the tub to take a bath, when Jerry and Michael came in, peed on me, and left, as they were leaving Daddy came in and asked, "Did you wash your hands?" So they came back in and washed their hands, then Daddy peed on me, washed his hands, said "Love you darling," and left. 'At least it was before my bath,' I thought as I turned on the shower, to rinse off and rinse out the tub before running my bath. See, what did I say, embarrassing.
I was standing in the doorway of the bathroom cum storage room.
I approached the door to the master bedroom with some trepidation.
I opened the door, and was immediately surrounded by men and boys. I recognized most of them. There were Jerry, and Michael, and Daddy, and Grandpa Jones, and Grandpa Charlie, and Mommy's brothers, and Daddy's brother-in-law; the male gynecology nurse who, as he was taking me from the delivery room to the nursery, let me nurse on his cock till he came, so the first thing in my belly wasn't Mommy's milk but some perv's cum; and that nice Mr. Jenkins, from down the hall, who would give me candy if I'd lick his peepee, when I was 3; and cousin Jimmy, who always looked after me at family gatherings, freeing Mommy and Daddy to do other things, and one day rubbed my pussy, when I was 5, I wanted him to do more, but he was scared; and all my male teachers from preschool on; and all my male classmates; and all the men and boys I'd ever known; and movie stars, and rock stars, and TV stars, and sports figures, and everyone I'd ever had a crush on. They all shouted "Welcome Home Queen Lucy," as they passed me hand to hand over their heads to the middle of the California King bed with more than a few fingers finding their way into my pussy and asshole and mouth building up my pleasure as I progressed.
But there was one man I didn't recognize, who was wearing, I learned later, a 1913 style suit, and appeared to be in his twenties. He made his way through the crowd and said, "Before you completely lose comprehension, I'm Henry Baker, the former, but not the first, by a long shot, owner of this house, I'd shake your hand, but they seem to be busy at the moment. The spirit of this house feeds on erotic love and lust and suppresses guilt and shame. It doesn't care about ages of consent, or, for that matter, about consent, lust based rape will suit it just fine, but it's figured out that with love involved the people are more likely to stay around and continue feeding it. The house has tested, and tasted, you and found you acceptable to be its new queen, as in queen bee. You will give it babies; your babies will give it babies, first by your father and brothers, then by your sons and grand sons. We've triggered your first estrus, get someone to fuck you in the next week and your first period won't be for ten months. If he objects, bring him back here, and he won't object for long. After that you're periods will be at nine to ten month intervals for as long as you're living here, or for the next forty to fifty years whichever comes first.
"Oh, when you get home, tell your mother about Martha, she's being conceived as we speak."
After that I lost all track of anything other than cocks in my hands and mouth and pussy and asshole, I had no idea who, if anyone, was attached to them, it was one continuous fucking and one continuous orgasm for God only knows how long. The next thing I knew coherently was I was lying on the bed in a pool of sunlight coming in through the eastern windows and I lie there basking in the sunlight and the wonderful feelings from the night before as the sun crossed from the eastern windows to the southern windows and finally to the western windows. Finally, in resignation that it was really over for now, I clambered off the bed, went to the fantastic Master bathroom, which was exactly as I'd pictured it, and peed, I flushed, but the tank didn't refill, and I couldn't wash my hands because the water was turned off.
I went to the living room, picked up my bag, and the embroidery, went out the front door and got my bike from where I'd stashed it in the bushes and rode home. About half way there I remembered that I hadn't gotten dressed, then I noticed that no one else seemed to be noticing that I was naked, so I let it go.
