Tickets were purchased, though there were more than a few whose request had been denied. Some had tried to scalp tickets, but their efforts were in vain.

But for those lucky enough to want, and to get, the tickets for the ASMC's Halloween Special.  The dress code was 'in costume', and the doors would only be open for admission for a few minutes. You were ready to enter or you would miss out until next year - even assuming you got lucky again.

This year's location was a small warehouse on the edge of the campus, the windows covered, and the front door requiring a scan of the ticket to enter trough a turnstile.  And this was normal for the event, if the rumour mill as to be believed.

Everyone entered the lobby, milling about while waiting for the stragglers and the interior doors to open.  There was a table by the doors, on which were small domino masks. A sign there informed everyone that they needed to take one and put it on.

On time, the doors leading inward were opened, and the mysterious head of the Club strode out.  "Hello, and thank you all for coming." The Head was dressed provocatively, her crimson corset was tied tightly with black strings, a black cape flared out behind her while fangs protruded from her mouth.

"Before we begin tonight's festivities, I must lay out the ground-rules. As always, if you do not agree, you are free to leave. But once you cross this threshold," she indicated the door behind her, "you are bound to them. First," she did not wait for anyone to interrupt, "you are to wear the mask provided at all times. Given the events herein, they will protect your identity magically, allowing you to act without worry."  She too had her own half-mask on to demonstrate. "Second, you may be called upon to participate in some of these events.  Refusal is not an option."  She paused for a moment.  "I do not know what my club members have planned, but I can assure you that some will be shows, and others will be free use, for your direct enjoyment.  Pain and Pleasure will be the same, naturally."  She did not elaborate.  "Thirdly, this is a horror themed event. You may see things that disquiet you.  When you leave, you may choose to not remember anything that happened here tonight."

"Inside this door, you will find a maze of passages. You will get lost, but you can always find your way back here."  She tiled her head to indicate the lobby. "That way, you can leave when you want, or at the end of the night.  And it will maintain the surprise at finding new places to be, to go, to experience."

"Other than that, I shall place no restrictions on your actions tonight. What happens here, stays here."  She snapped her fingers. "And if you have any further doubts as to what I mean, a demonstration is in order."

From the darkness on the other side of the doors, a naked woman walked in. Her black hair was recognizable, even though her face was not.  Without a hint of shame, Karen as she was called on stage walked in front of the club's Head, and faced away from her.

The Head pressed herself against Karen's back. She bared her fangs. "You may be thinking I'm going to drink her blood here," she said as she reached around and started to play with Karen's breasts. "But that isn't the case. That would be too tame."  She stepped back and put her hands to the sides of Karen's head.  With a wrench, she twisted the black-haired woman's head to the side, eliciting a sharp snap in the sudden quiet.

Then the Head twisted Karen's head around to face backwards, proving that her neck was broken.  Karen fell to her knees, her new height allowing the club's leader better leverage as she spun her head around again, this time pulling as she did so.

With a tear, Karen's head was ripped off.  Her body fell forward, blood pouring from the stump, shaking with the death throes.  The leader lifted Karen's head above her, and she opened her mouth to let the jugulars empty their contents into her mouth.  In silence, she waited for the last drop to fall before tossing the head into the audience, where someone caught it.  Licking her bloodied lips, ignoring the mess on the floor and on her chest, she bowed and gestured at the door behind her. "Pick your door. Come. Go. Your choice."

No one left the building.

-----

"Welcome!" Set against the back of the small room was a most silly sight. Sarah, her yellow hair tied up into a ponytail, sat on a small seat above a dunk tank, the kind you could find in any two-bit circus around the world. To the side was a small target, connected to the tank by a lever. A small bucket of balls sat behind a white line painted in the floor.  Sarah was wearing a mannequin's outfit, the tight cloth demonstrating that she had nothing to hide anywhere, let alone up her sleeve. "Glad to see someone came in so quickly."

"This wasn't what I was expecting," her visitor replied as they picked up a ball, checking it for tricks. "You know your girlfriend had her head ripped off, right?"

"Oh please," Sarah waved it off like it was nothing. "If we let something like being headless get in the way, well, we wouldn't snuggle nearly as much."  She grinned with a cocky waggle of her eyebrows. "Want to hear the rules then?"

"Sure."  A practice toss of the ball into the air, then caught.

"You toss the ball at the target," Sarah informed her. "You hit the target, and I get dunked. If I get back onto the seat, you can go again, or let someone else have a turn.  If I can't get back on the seat, you take my spot here, and repeat the rules for the next person."

"That's it?" the first person heard a couple people come in behind them. "There has to be something more."

"There is!" Sarah said proudly. "But to find out, you have to hit the target."

Her first guest threw, and missed wide. Then they picked up another ball, and took a more careful aim. This time, the shot was true.

"Ack!" Sarah cried out as her seat gave way, and she plunged into the bottom of the tank.  Steam, or smoke instantly began to rise as the seat reset itself, and Sarah rushed to the small ladder in the side of the tank.  She pulled herself out, and quickly shook herself off.

But it was obvious that her costume was damaged. There were holes in it now, red skin showing through. And her face was peeling away a little bit. "Ooh, Acid bath," she said as she carefully sat down again. "Painful. Sexy.  Eventually, I'm not going to have the strength to pull myself out, and I will dissolve in the tank.  Then the winner will replace me up here."  She put out a pained grin. "The Magic will let them in, don't worry."

She examined her damaged costume, then looked out at her audience. "So, these are the rules," she said to them all. "Who wants to throw next?"

-----

"Hey-yo!" In the spotlight, two cute girls stood side by side.  They wore similar dresses, one red and the other white, from their frilly skirt up to their chest.  "We're here to give you a demonstration as to what you could do here," the one in the red dress said, bowing enough to show off her cleavage to those who waited around them.

"That's right," the white one said, offering a curtsy.  Some of you may be thinking that you can simply standby and watch.  But that's not the point!"  She raised one finger to the sky.  "So, my friend and I will provide a demonstration on one of us.  Then, you will not be able to leave the room until someone steps up and does the same thing to the other."

"So!" Red shouted, "First person to pick one of us determines who gets to be the victim of our demonstration!"

"WHITE!" Someone shouted.

"Very well," the woman in the white dress said without disappointment.  She reached up and snapped her fingers and from the ceiling a hook descended on a chain.  Red reached into her cleavage and from between her breasts, pulled out a long, wicked knife.

White, for her part, ignored the hook and produced two sets of handcuffs from inside her own dress, despite there being to way to hide them where she pulled them from.  With the help of Red, White's hands were manacled behind her back, and her ankles together as well.  "This is to prevent me from fighting back," she informed their audience.  "Inadvertently, of course.  I don't want to escape this."

Red then took the hook in hand. "Are you ready?" she asked.

"Would it make a difference?" White asked back. Then she raised her chin, exposing her neck.

Red slid the hook into White's neck, curving the sharp barb up into her head.  White's eyes widened at the contact, but she kept her face as still as possible.  But that was no longer a valid option once Red stepped back and snapped her own fingers.

The hook rose, taking White with it, pulling her off the floor.  She started to choke, her cheeks turning red, but she did her best otherwise.

"You poor dear," Red cooed disingenuously. "That must be so heavy, what with your entire body hanging like that!"  She brandished her knife, and waved it around in a most unsafe manner. "Here, let me help you with that."

Red swung with the knife, a shopping motion that intersected White's left shoulder.  Her left arm promptly fell off, leaving a bloody trail through the air.  But the cuffs held, and the dismembered arm swung around attached to her right arm.

White whimpered.

Red stepped around the hanging woman and repeated her gesture on the right arm.

With a meaty thunk, the two arms hit the floor, blood flowing from the fresh wounds.

"That's not enough," Red said aloud, oblivious to the effects she was having.  "You need to lighten up some more!"

With both hands on the knife, she put all her might into her next swing.  And with all that effort, she swung low and cut off White's legs just below the hemline of the skirt.

They fell to the ground, blood adding to the pool.

Before their audience, White now hung by her neck, deprived of all her limbs.  Red stood before her, cheerfully ignoring her as she bled, holding the knife in her hand.  "Now, before anyone can leave," Red said as a hook descended beside White, "you will have to prove that you can participate willingly and fully."  She held out her knife, holding the tip in her fingers. "That means that someone has to do to me what I just did to her.  And I'm experimental.  You don't have to go here," she indicated her neck.  "Perhaps here," her eye, "or this," her breasts, "or even you can hang me up by this," she pointed at her crotch.

"Or," she said with a sly smile, "Someone can come up here and take my place."

"What's it going to be?"

-----

Stepping into the room, after watching two people leave excited, Paul wondered what could entertain them so.  What he found was quite a letdown.  A young woman with black hair that looked blue in the lights stood there in a simple maid's outfit, nothing risque or sensual.  Beside her was a large changing room with curtains.

"Hello," she said with a cute curtsy. "Welcome to the costume room."

"What, you let people change what they're wearing?" Paul asked, aware of how his voice echoed inside his wolf-man mask.  "Seems kinda cheap for a thing where people have to bring their own."  He wore the face disguising mask under the rubber one. Two layers of identity protection.

"No, here we allow a person to take their costume and make it better, more perfect."  She pointed at the change room. "The imperfections of the costume go away."

"So, what, like go in there dressed as a Vampire, get real teeth?"

"Or go in wrapped in bandages, and emerge as the Invisible Man, Gyges and all."

"Neat."  He could see why that would encourage people to enter. "I just step in."

She nodded. "You do.  However," she took a moment to look him over, a thoughtful look on her face, "I have a proposition for you."

"For me?" Paul reflexively straightened up.

"Yes.  While I could do something normal, if you are so inclined, should you let me go a bit more than usual," she pointed at his rubber nose, "you do something for me?"

"Like man the booth?  I'm not a member of your club."

"No, nothing of the sort.  You may accept or not. Your choice."

Paul thought for less than an eye-blink.  "Sure."

"Excellent!" she opened up the change-room, "step in, and wait for my command to emerge."

Paul dutifully did so, letting the curtain close behind him. There was a lot of room in here, he could reach out with both arms and barely graze the opposite walls.

Then the lights went out.

"Is this normal?" he asked.

"Completely," the woman replied. "Please wait."

He did so, and for what seemed like a couple minutes.  "Please come out."

Paul turned around, and moved the curtain aside to step into the light.

A hulking 8 foot tall werewolf stared back at him in the mirror. His legs were pushing through new rips in his pants, and his shirt now exposed a full hairy bestial chest. And his rubber mask was now a real face, snout, teeth and ears. The domino mask was around his eyes.  "Wow," he said with a growl.

"Do you like?" the attendant asked.

"I do!" Paul turned around and came up short.  The woman stood in the light now naked, baring no shred of cloth on her. "Uh..."

"Now, my turn," the woman announced.  She stepped up to him and looked up at his new face.  "Eat me."

"What?" Paul was surprised by the request.

"My return favour," she replied, her eyes boring into his. "Devour me, wolf.  Whole or ripped apart by tooth or claw. Tear my limbs off and let me watch as you suck the meat from my bones," her nipples hardened as she spoke, her voice clear and confident. "Floss your teeth with my spine, for all I care."

His stomach growled. He did feel a bit peckish, and truth be told, she did look ... yummy.  "Is that it," he asked as he licked his lips, careful not to cut his tongue on his sharp maw. "Don't you have a job to do?"

"The job will be done," she assured him as she lifted up her breasts for him. "Don't tell me the big, bad wolf is on a diet?"

"He is," Paul leaned down, somehow sure of himself even with the changed body. "The doctor's orders are red meat, raw."  He took one huge paw, and lifted her up by her arms, letting her dangle in front of him. He found it easy to do this, his strength magnified.  He opened his mouth wide, letting her see what awaited her and then ...

*  *  *

Joyce did not so much as step out as fall out of the changing room.  That was ... intense.  When she indulged her own random thought by striking the deal and letting that man ....  Yes, she had no regrets.  Not even the blood and viscera in the room could change that.  Picking up her old hand, she tossed it to one side, adding it to the theme of the room.  Her costume, she recovered, slipping it back on.  Once she was composed, she unlocked the door, and stood prepared for her next guest.

And maybe she could do this again.  She would just need someone with the right costume to come by.

-----

Almost all of the guests had entered the site proper, leaving the Club head, and the decapitated body alone.

Almost.

One last man remained, he stood tall and in a fine suit. Plastic fangs and red contacts helped sell the costume as that of a Vampire.

"That was brutal," he said, indicating the body at his feet and the head in her hands.  "Was that necessary?"

"Of course," she replied, poking Karen's eyes.  "She won, and asked that I do this."

"She asked to have her head ripped off."  The disbelief was palpable.  "Too bad she's going to miss out on the rest of this."

"Not really," she replied, tossing Karen's head to him for his examination.  "You see, a couple of my members are doing their best Frankenstein impression. Unattended pieces get given to them, and they will do their best to put people back together."  She waved her hand about. "Once we leave, her body will go to them, and they will restore her.  They even promised to try and use all the correct parts!"

"I can see that," the man replied. "So, were you serious about the rules?"

She lost all humour. "Always."

"Then attend me, my Mistress," he smiled as he reached out and ran a finger along her bare neck and down into her corset. "I will pleasure you as the woman you are, then hurt you as no mortal can withstand."

She bowed. "Of course, Master."

*  *  *

"Ahhh!"  The Head leaned back, exposing her breasts as the Master, as he told her to call him, pushed inside her again. And again.  He had taken her to the first room he saw, pushed her onto the table there, and ripped open her costume to avail himself of her body.

And she let him, spreading her legs. He kissed her nipples, and she embraced him with all her accumulated skill. When he finally exploded inside her, she was sweating with the effort, panting with the exertion, and flush with her own desire.

"Master," she said as she looked him in the eyes, "Are you done already?"

"I had to consider you," he replied as he pulled out, leaving her lying on the table.  "I didn't want to break your mind with my sexual prowess."

"Like you could," she challenged him.

"Perhaps some other time," he said as he looked around properly for the first time. "So, what is supposed to happen here, aside from casual sex?"

She sat up, not bothering to reset her clothes.  "Here, you can be sawn in half," she informed him. "Though naturally, with the twist of this being a horror themed night."

He looked at her.  Looked at her body. "A vampire is very hard to kill," he said. "Imagine what you could survive."  His look turned into a leer.

"Why don't you show me?" she asked in challenge, leaning back with her arms behind her.  "Ravish me again," she twisted to put two fingers into her moist cunt, spreading it for him, "and when I lose myself, the saw under this table will rise up, cutting me in two while I still live.  Of course, that shouldn't stop your carnal desires at all, will it?"

"Of course not," he replied as he rose to the challenge.  He penetrated her again, and she pulled him over the table to better enjoy things as he embraced their mutual desire.

She moved under him, and he moved over her, and soon, she was ready.

"There's something you should know," she whispered in his ear as he sucked her tit.  "The saw doesn't go up through the waist."

She screamed, the sound enough to trigger the blade.  From head to foot of the table, a metal sheet slammed upward, cutting through the partners from top to bottom.

The man, if he noticed, gave no sign as he kept fucking the woman under her him, despite him, her and their sexed now cut in half.

Then they fell to the sides, exposing their insides in their mutual throes of deaths both big and little.  The blade retracted, scraping off the blood.

The lights went out.

The lights turned on.

All there was in the room was a bloody table, awaiting the next sexual sacrifice.

-----

"Oh man, this has been a blast!" Two women strolled into a certain room, not picked at random.  

"Tell me about it," the other laughed. "Everyone's having fun."

"How's your neck?" the first asked.

"Fine," she replied. "Although it wasn't as sexy as when you do it."

"Oh?  Is that a request?"  She leaned in, pulling the other closer. "I know you love it when I..."

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" a man said. The two women froze in place, then turned to look at the third person in the room. "Because while I'm all for love, and watching two women go at it is hot, I didn't want to be rude and all."

The first woman was a blonde bombshell, her red and black leotard full of holes, showing off her skin in irregular patterns.  The other was raven haired, and wore nothing at all, except whatever cover her girlfriend gave her.  The man was a pirate, complete with wide brimmed and feathered hat, and flowing clothes.

"I'm not sure," the blonde said. "I was hoping for a little private time, catch me?"

"Then I shall me on my way," the pirate bowed.  "Please, enjoy."

"Wait!" the nude woman called out, reaching to take his sleeve.  "Can you do us a flavor?"

"What?" "What?" The two responses were the same word, but with different tones.

She pointed at the device in the room, lit from all sides. "I picked this room because of that, and my first thought was to step into that after we had sex, and my girl would penetrate me."

It was a simple spike box, clear on all sides, with what looked like two dozen sharp spikes under it, ready to ascend through the box and whomever was inside.  There was no trick to it.

"But now," she continued, "we can go together.  Put on a show for you, then go together."

"Aww, that's so sweet of you!" the blonde replied to the plan. "I wouldn't mind at all."  She turned to the pirate. "Would you?"

"Of course not!" he exclaimed, tipping his hat to them. "What sort of pirate would I be if I didn't appreciate good booty?"  He laughed.

The blonde woman leaned over and swept her lover up off her feet, who responded by ripping open the damaged costume and fondling the now exposed breast.  By the time they got to the table, the blonde had one hand inside her lovers sex leading her to respond by trying to return the favour. But she couldn't reach and instead had to settle for ripping open the rest of her lover's top.

The Pirate watched, fascinated and aroused as the two didn't so much as make love, as they attacked each others bodies.  Whatever pent up emotions or desires they had were on full display as they kissed, sucked, bit, groped, pinched, twisted, licked and caressed each other in full view, and without regard for their audience.

And below them, their doom awaited.

The pirate stepped up to the table. The box hadn't been closed to allow the two of them freedom of movement, which they had taken full advantage of.  Beside one of the feet of the table was a foot-switch. If it was pressed, the spikes would rise, not stopping until their rack hit the bottom of the table.

He stomped on it.

With a metallic BANG, the two women were stabbed through and through.  The first set pierced the lower woman's shoulders, and her neck.  Except the blonde was in the middle of kissing said neck, and the spike went into her mouth and out the back of her head.

The next series went through their chests, pinning their breasts together, and even a couple of hands who were busy pressing into the soft flesh.  The third through their stomachs, nothing much to his eye there.

Next, a set of spikes ran at an angle across their hips, pushing through bone and muscle to lock them together as one hand reached between the legs of the other woman.  He leaned over, and saw that neither of them had maintained control, though that should have been obvious from the sounds they made.

He resisted the temptation to touch.

More spikes ran along the length of the table, going through legs, or missing entirely to the end.

Returning to the top, he saw the black haired woman blink. "Oh, you're still alive?" he asked, though she made no sound.

He realized the position was perfect, she was just close enough to the edge of the table.  He tilted it to the side, and dropped his pants, exposing his cock.  Pushing into her mouth, he didn't wait for her to help things along and emptied his load into her throat.  Quickly finished, he pulled out, then kneeled to look her in the eye.

"What did you expect?  I'm a pirate," he said with the accent as she blinked again. "And I enjoy me some wenches.  And in fact, you did such a good job of entertaining me, that if I see you around again, I'll clap you in irons and claim your bodies as my booty."  He smiled as he stood up and pulled up his pants.

"See you soon."