"Good Evening!" The Club Head greeted her assembled guests from her unusual position. "Welcome to this year's Halloween Macabre Event, where you, my lovely audience are both the performer and the audience!" She was hanging by her feet, spread wide and held in place by a bar, her arms tied behind her back as she swung from a tree in the backyard of the house they were all gathered in.
"This year's theme is House," she said, "which means that this will be a smaller and tighter place than normal. However, not so tight that you're crowded." Around her were a few tables with various implements on them. "Consider this to be a ... liminal space for the evening. A private yard, a private house, a private party."
"Now, as usual," she informed her guests as a large man stepped out of the shadow of the tree, a hockey mask over his face and wearing a thick leather apron. "I will have to inform everyone of the rules. "First is that attendance is voluntary, and when you leave, you will not be allowed readmission. You can leave at any time, and no one will stop you. This event will involve nudity, sex, rough play, magical encounters, the grotesque, and the macabre. We are all here willingly, and so every one of you will respect your fellow partygoers, even if you are being aggressive, assertive or submissive. If you fail to do so, I will remove you." It wasn't a threat. It was a simple statement of fact. In front of her, the masked man put buckets and trays onto the table.
"As usual, if you feel the need to start again, or are not in a position to think such things, the front hall has two closets that you will magically return to in a reverse-vanishing sort of way. There are also closets for changing costumes if you desire, and the bathrooms with blue doors are for privacy. Only one person in at a time. Bathrooms with red doors have no such restrictions. All other rooms are open, but if you want a private encounter, you can close the door, and people can leave, but not enter." The masked man sharpened knives before her.
"Remember that this is a party where sex will happen. Magic will happen. Gore will happen, as will death. This is all part of the program, and for some it will be voluntary, for others, it will be a surprise. Enjoy everything! We are here to have fun without limits, and if it's your first time here, I'm sure that someone will gladly show you the ropes, one way or another."
"The members of the Club are also in attendance, running their own little events on and off through the night. They are available for questions, concerns, sex, magic and murder. The usual. As will I, for that matter."
"Now, as is tradition, I will begin the proceedings. This gentleman," she finally addressed the man who was in front of her, "is a professional chef from a certain resort." The man held the knife to her neck, pulling her head sharply to control the Head's positioning. "He will be butchering myself now, and you will find him inside the house in a kitchen where he will gladly demonstrate his trade for you." The man then sliced across the Head's neck, and a line of red erupted outward as her throat was slashed. The audience watched as she choked on the air bubbles that mixed in her airway. Some were already excited as the chef then stabbed her in the stomach and drew the blade sharply down to her ribs, opening her up and scooping out all her insides into a bucket.
He finished cutting off her head, and set it down on the table to drain into a pan, while he quickly and professionally went about cutting up the Head, removing her breasts to be put on a plate. Her arms and legs and were stripped, and the meat set aside until the Chef carefully carved out her cunt and put it on display. Ten minutes total.
The front door to the house opened and the Head stepped out, her body still on display. "Come on in!" she invited everyone. "Dinner will be served shortly. Or the first course at least."