Halloween is coming and I know what you have planned. You have beaten all of us girls beyond recognition, and our scars and blood and overall appearance rivals any zombie costume that could be made by using makeup. Some of us are acged, and some just tied, in the basement of your wicked looking house. Its a favorite trick-or-treat house for the neighborhood bratss every year. They dare each other to come knock on the door for a treat. I know this, because I remember the year I did it – the last taste of freedom I will ever have.
My friends dared me to go to your door. Your house was creepy and rumored to be haunted. Even during the day we would cross the street on the way home from school, rather than walk close to it. You were rarely ever seen, and some of the other brats said you had been seen burying bodies in your back yard. It had all sounded so ridiculous to me. It was Halloween, and I was a brave little thing, well a show-off anyway, and I was going to ring your bell. None of my friends would go to the door with me, they waited across the street.
I rang the bell, and the door swung open. You were no where to be seen. I was so scared, but I peeked inside. From nowhere, your arm reached out and grabbed my throat, yanking me the rest of the way inside, slamming the door behind us. Your grip was so tight I couldn’t even scream, and you dragged me deeper into the house. You threw my tiny body onthe floor, and began slapping me until my mouth and nose were bleeding. You took my princess costume and ripped it off my body, pinching and biting me like a monster, and I felt like I was having a nightmare.
You took your cock our of your filthy jeans and fucked my tiny pussy right there on the floor as I bled everywhere. You tore my body to shreds until the sun came up the next day. I will never forget that night, even after all the torture you have instilled on me since then. Now, I rot in your basement, useless and pathetic. You still torture me and fuck me, but I know its not the same as the first time. Halloween is almost here, and I know you are waiting for the next little brave girl to come up and ring your bell. Your collection of broken princesses grows each year. If only they were smart enough to stay away from the haunted house.