Ciara always has the best Halloween costumes, but this year her costume really makes an impression on the judges... and on some local low lifes.
WARNING! This warning is possibly not needed for this particular story, but I am including it because it is needed for most of my stories. If you decide to read other of my stories make sure that you read the disclosures and warnings at the beginning of each story.
All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life.
All characters involved in sexual activity in this story are over the age of 18. If you are under the age of 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century.
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I’m not sure when I first realized that I could change my Halloween costume with just my mind. I pretty sure the first time was when I was in the fourth grade and Belinda McDaniels wore the exact same costume to school that I did. Well, not exactly the same. We were both Jasmine from Aladdin, but hers was much, much better than mine because her parents were rich and could afford the best. With the professionally-applied makeup and the jeweled tiara, she looked just like the actress that sang the songs for the Broadway play. When I saw her going into the school, I felt almost ashamed of the tacky costume and plastic mask that I was wearing. I remember saying out loud to myself, “I should have gone as Aladdin... or the Genie.”
As soon as I said that, I felt sort of tingly all over and suddenly I was wearing an Aladdin Genie costume. I didn’t care how it happened, I was just overjoyed that it did. And it was the best Genie costume ever. No one talked about Belinda’s Jasmine costume. All that the other kids could talk about was how fabulous my costume was and how I looked so much like the Genie from Aladdin.
I was really happy about everything, but when I got home, my mother freaked out. “Ciara,” she screamed, “what have you done?”
My name is pronounced see-err-ah, but when Mom was upset with me she would hold out the first part so that it sounded like Seeeeey-rah. She held out my name so very long that I knew I was really in trouble. I thought she was going to spank me or something, but instead she grabbed me up into her arms and sobbed, “What have you become?”
In all my childish innocence I replied, “I am the Genie from Aladdin.”
She took me upstairs into the bathroom and told me to take off the costume. I did and she stood me in front of the mirror in just my underpants and asked, “What do you see?”
I answered, “the Genie” because my entire body was still blue and my face still looked like the blue genie. It took me a moment to understand, but when I did, I looked at her and asked, “How is this possible?”
She sighed very deeply and put her hands on my shoulders. Then suddenly she was also Aladdin’s Genie.
“It is a blessing in our family,” she said softly. Then almost crying she said, “Or perhaps it is a curse.” She took a deep breath to compose herself and continued, “On special times of the year we can change our bodies and everything around us. Halloween is one of those times because we see so many other people not being themselves that somehow it releases the power within us to not be ourselves. Not everyone in the family has this power. I had hoped it would pass you by, but it hasn’t. In fact, your power is very, very strong. I don’t know of anyone else in the family who were able to change at such a young age.”
She again took a deep breath and said softly, “I am me.”
The blue Genie was gone and mom was once again standing before me.
“Say it,” she said, shaking my shoulders slightly.
I must have looked very confused because she said firmly, “Say ‘I am me.’”
I looked at myself in the mirror and said, “I am me.”
Suddenly it was me in the mirror. The Genie was gone and I was looking at myself in the mirror. Mom never mentioned it again, but I never bought another Halloween costume. All I had to do was say out loud, “I am... whatever,” and I became that. In the years that followed, I won best costume contests for everything from Casper the Friendly Ghost to Ironman.
Now that I am a twenty-year-old college student I can be a little more daring with my costumes. There is a spooky old mansion downtown that has been converted into a B&B. Every year the bar on the ground floor holds a rather raucous Halloween party for what they call “Young people of all ages– as long as you are over 18.” That means it is primarily college students and college-aged students from the town.
Part of the attraction... besides the cheap booze... is that every year they hold costume contests with rather large cash prizes. Last year a perfect Harley Quinn showed up and wowed just about everybody... except the judges. Evidently I didn’t wow the judges and win the best costume contest because Harley was considered too tame.
Harley Quinn too tame!? I couldn’t believe it.
So this year I decided to go as Lady Godiva... the real Lady Godiva. I was amazed at how my own hair grew out so fast. In a matter of minutes it was almost down to my knees. Long tresses came down my front and perfectly covered my breasts. Then the hair curled in to hang in front of my naked pussy. The rest of my hair hung down my back and covered my bare ass. Somehow it curled and shaped and stayed in place perfectly even when I moved so that I was daring, but not illegally obscene. I knew that I was going to have to be a little bit careful about how I sat and so forth, but it was going to be worth it. Lady Godiva was definitely a very daring... and award-winning... costume.
While waiting for the costumes to be judged, I walked around in the downstairs bar area of the mansion. Many of the young men there were obviously attracted to me. Several offered to buy me drinks, but my response of “Only from the bartender’s hand to my hand,” caused most of them to walk away. One rather handsome young man actually said, “OK,” and walked with me over to the bar where I ordered a vodka gimlet over ice. As soon as the bartender handed it to me the young man cautioned, “Don’t set that down. And if somebody brushes against you from the front and their hand goes anywhere near that drink, throw it away.”
I asked him why he was so concerned and he said, “As I came in, there were some townies selling liquid X. That shit will knock you on your ass and everyone will think you are just drunk. Then in the morning, you won’t remember anything.” He shrugged and then said in way of explanation, “I have two younger sisters.”
He and I found a table and sat and talked. His name was Dwayne and he was dual majoring in engineering and business so he could take over his father’s business someday. When we finished our drinks we went over to the dance floor. I tried to be careful that my hair stayed in place, but I know that a couple of times I flashed a nipple or butt crack. I’m pretty sure that my shaved beaver stayed covered, but I may have given a pussy micro-flash once or twice. We started on another drink while we waited for the costume judging.
The costume contest judging was at midnight. And yes, I won best female costume. Afterwards Dwayne and I had another drink. I know that not mixing alcohol is a myth. As long as you don’t drink too much you can drink anything that you like. I just happen to like vodka gimlets. Besides, Dwayne insisted that I throw away the half-glass that was still on the table when we came back from the costume judging. We stopped at the bar for fresh drinks and then sat at the table talking. Three gimlets, or in this case two and a half, in a couple of hours don’t make me drunk, but they do make me have to pee.
“I have to go to the little girl’s room,” I said. “I’ll be right back.”
The restrooms were at the very back of the building. They weren’t part of the original mansion’s design and had been added later, but they were still very old-fashioned and small. I ended up waiting in line in the hallway. I was the last one in line, and for some reason no other girls came back to the restroom while I was waiting.
I had just gotten to the door when someone grabbed me from behind. They slapped their hand over my mouth and pulled me backward further down the hallway. I tried to bite them, but I couldn’t open my mouth. They evidently had some tape in their hand when they grabbed me and had pressed it over my lips to keep me quiet. More hands grabbed me. There had to be at least three of them because they had no trouble picking me up and taking me out the back door.
They carried me down the alley and into a grassy space between two of the buildings. They had to have planned this in advance because there were four dog stakes screwed into the ground that had ropes already attached to them. They laid me down on my back and one of them sat on my legs while the other two tied my arms tightly to the stakes.
Once my arms were tightly tied, the two moved down and grabbed my legs. They each pulled a leg out all the way and then tightly tied my ankles to the rope. I was now spread out in a naked ‘X’ on the ground. I doubted my hair was still covering my sex.
As I lay there, I heard one of them say to the other, “Are you sure she got the stuff?”
The second man said, “I put it in her drink while she was over strutting her ass for the judges in the competition. And I saw her finish her drink just before she went to the bathroom. She won’t remember shit in the morning.”
I tried to scream, but the tape over my mouth prevented anything from coming out. One of the three young men reached down and pulled on the hair lying over my breasts.
“Hey,” he said in surprise, “this is her real hair. ... And there’s no tape or glue or anything holding it in place.”
“What a slut!” the other said as he brushed the hair off my pussy.
“She’s asking for it,” the third one said as he slid a finger through my now uncovered slit.
“They all are,” the first one replied as he once again pulled aside the hair covering my breasts and pinched my nipple. He then looked down at me and said, “What are you supposed to be? Lady Godiva?”
“I wish I had come as The Hulk,” I thought to myself.
It was at that instant that I knew what I had to do. I screamed “I am The Hulk!”
The tape prevented my words from being heard, but my body heard them. I could feel myself changing. The three men stepped back in fear as I broke the ropes and stood up growling. I bounced one of them off of the building. The second one I held above my head and threw into the ground. The third just stood in front of me frozen in fear.
“No girl is asking for it,” I snarled, “but you are asking for this.”
I punched him hard in the face and followed that with a really hard punch in the gut. I don’t remember much of what happened after that. The next thing I was sure of I was standing in front of the back door to the mansion saying over and over, “I am Lady Godiva. I am Lady Godiva. I am Lady Godiva.”
As I walked back up the hallway to the bathroom, I noticed that two security men were walking rapidly toward the back door. I sidestepped them and allowed them to pass. Then I got back in line for the restroom because to my surprise, I still really had to pee.
Dave was waiting for me at the table when I got back. He looked very concerned as he asked, “Are you all right? I saw security running back to the bathrooms and I was afraid something might have happened to you.”
“Whatever it was,” I replied, “was outside behind the building.” I sat down next to him and said brightly, “I got tied up for a few minutes, so things took a little longer, but your Lady Godiva is back now.”
“I can get you another drink,” he said with a crooked smile as he pointed to my almost empty glass.
“I trust you,” I said as I picked up what was left of my gimlet and took a sip, then another to empty the glass. “But why don’t we go someplace where we can both trust things... and each other.”
He had a small apartment just off campus. We made love all night on his king-sized bed and in the morning, he made me breakfast. I had to borrow a robe from him because my hair was starting to stray more than a little. We watched the local news as we ate. Evidently three young men from the town were found naked and tied one on top the other to dog stakes alongside a dark alley behind the haunted mansion. Carved deeply into the brickwork of the building above them it said, “CHECK THEIR DNA.” According to the reporter, the DNA tests will take a week or two, but one of the men already confessed to being part of the gang that has been raping college coeds over the past several months. According to an unnamed source, he was crying and kept saying, “She wasn’t human. She couldn’t have been human. She turned into The Hulk. She threw us around like rag dolls. She said if I didn’t confess she would come back and find me and beat me to a pulp.”
Dwayne laughed and said, “Do you think he is trying for an insanity defense?”
“I don’t know,” I said smiling, “I’ve got a really good Hulk costume. Something like that could scare you into almost anything.”