Jackie Ventures Out
- 1 year ago
- 15
- 0
Jackie O'Lantern free porn video
(This story was inspired by two things. First, I am currently in
rehearsal for a play dealing with the issue of adult victims of child
abuse and that got me thinking of what I would like to see happen to
the perpetrators of such abuse. Secondly, thanks to J. John Seaver for
his excellent story, "SRU: In the Bag"; it's posted at Fictionmania,
and I highly recommend it.)
Jackie O'Lantern
By Jezzi Belle Stewart
(c)2005
Jack Prior knelt on the long uncut grass behind the worn and age
weathered gravestone bearing the name of Jackson Donovan with the birth
and death dates of 1840 - 1912, both barely legible on its surface. The
grave of Mr. Donovan was a part of Donovan cemetery. Dorsey Donovan
had, in the mid 19th century, become the richest citizen of the then
town of Greasepuddle and had used his wealth and power to get the name
of the town and the cemetery changed to his own; the main street of the
town was Donovan Street and there was a Donovan Park also named after
him, and there was the Donovan Childrens' Home started by and named for
his son, the occupant of the grave fronted by the stone behind which
Jack Prior knelt.
The cemetery was full, and had been so since the last burial in 1920.
The space around it had, by that time been turned into an industrial
district and there had been no room for expansion. Most of the industry
had moved out in the years following World war II headed for sunnier
climes and cheaper labor and had left outdated industrial plants behind
to deteriorate until a recent wave of reform swept into power a city
council willing to facilitate a gentrification of the neighborhood. The
plan, begun eight years before Jack Prior's nocturnal and seemingly
morbid visit to the cemetery this October 31st, had not touched the
rotting factories on the north, east, or south sides of the cemetery,
which had itself become overgrown, the graves uncared for and the
stones allowed to deteriorate and fall over, both naturally and as the
work of vandals and Satanists. The section on the west side of the
cemetery, however, had been razed and a housing development with houses
priced to appeal to young families had been built. And that is why
Jack, sad to say, was where he was at that time; the houses had almost
all been purchased, and, as intended, had been purchased by families
with young children ... and Jack was a pedophile.
Jack worked as a custodian at the elementary school that the developers
of the new housing on the cemetery's west side had agreed to build. He
was smart enough to play the paragon of virtue in the school itself,
using it rather as an intelligence gathering resource than as an
immediate source of the children themselves. Two years before his
current Halloween journey, he had used knowledge of a planned, non
parentally approved, nocturnal sojourn from Lydia Haskel's slumber
party to "invite" three third grade girls, including Lydia herself, to
an entirely different party from the one they had left without Lydia's
parents' knowledge. Unfortunately for them, it was an invitation they
found themselves unable to refuse. There was a scandal and an
investigation, and the case was still open, but no trace of the three
had been found. While Jack had been questioned, he was never really
considered a suspect; he was, if he did think so himself, VERY clever
... and VERY good at what he did.
Jack had deliberately picked Jackson Donovan's gravestone to hide
behind out of several suitable stones that were located in the area of
the cemetery where he needed to be. He thought keeping company with the
late Mr. Donovan very suitable indeed; they were, he believed, kindred
souls. To the best of his knowledge, Old Jack had never hit a child or
attempted sexual relations with one, or even yelled loudly at one.
However, he knew that founding the foundlings home (He chuckled over
that play on words.) had merely been one more way that Old Jack had
found for increasing the family fortunes. Of the money donated for the
home, Jack estimated from his research that twenty-five percent had
gone into Old Jack's pocket, fifty percent had been used to bribe local
and state officials, and twenty-five percent had gone into the actual
running of the home where drab, ill-fitting clothing, food enough to
keep the children healthy but on the edge of hunger, hard work - at
jobs around town in various Donavon owned enterprises - VERY strict
discipline, and a little schooling was the order of the day. Apparently
Old Jack had read "Oliver Twist" and been quite taken with it - though
in ways of which Mr. Dickens would not have approved. And things had
only gotten worse since Old Jack's time; Jack knew this because he,
himself, was a product of The Home.
Jack had never learned who his parents were, and had learned early on
that open curiosity was a way to get one's self slapped or deprived of
a meal or ordered to do more work. He also learned the pecking order,
and, as a large boy, he moved to the top of it - actually food chain
was more appropriate than pecking order, as at the top, one literally
got more food.
Jack became a bully, pure and simple, and his bullying tendencies were
given free reign by the home's employees, chosen solely for their
willingness to work for minimum wage. The raging hormones of Jack's
adolescence were fed not by girls his own age, as, at the beginning of
it, those were usually bigger than he and able to defend themselves,
but by little girls, the prepubescent ones, the pretty ones. At first
he focused on adoration; the little girls who were willing to flatter
him and feed his ego became his favorites. Soon, though, he moved on to
sexual favors, and that worked for awhile. But finally came fear. Fear
sent a thrill through Jack like nothing else; fear showed his absolute
power over those in whom he induced it, and if they were pretty little
female THINGS - Jack never thought of his victims as quite human - that
was the TOP of the thrill chain.
In his seventeenth year, Jack scared seven year old Theresa O'Leary to
death without even touching her. You don't - at least I hope you don't
- even want to know what he did. The results for him were both good and
bad. The good was that he had the most mind blowing, cum inducing,
awesome orgasm ever; in his ecstasy, he felt sorry for Theresa that she
was already dead when he ... well, like I said, I hope you don't want
to know. The bad thing was he almost got caught ... and HE became
afraid. That was no fun at all, and he decided that he would have to
become very, very cleaver and very, very discrete to avoid that feeling
of his own fear in the future. And being that worst combination of evil
and brains, he did so become.
Jack WAS smart and had managed to get a good enough education for
himself that after leaving the home at age eighteen, he was able to
attend University. While there, he curbed his tendencies and managed to
leave with a 4.0 GPA and a degree in child psychology. His professors
all agreed that they had never seen a man who could relate to children
as well as Jack. Irony is such a wonderful thing.
There's no place like home, and Jack didn't need ruby slippers to get
there; he simply took the train. There would have been ample
opportunities to satisfy his four years delayed appetite in The Big
City. Had he stayed at University, as his professors had urged him to
do, he could have acquired the advanced degrees to go into that perfect
cover of a practicing child psychologist. He was drawn back to Donovan
like a moth to a flame, however, and he was not quite sure why. Using
only his high school diploma, and good references from the director of
The Home, who was totally clueless as to what really went on in his
domain and thought jack rather the best success story to come out since
he had taken tenure, he got the job as custodian at the new Jackson
Donovan (Surprise!) elementary school.
All this past history was reviewed by Jack as he huddled behind the
gravestone. He had learned that for the last several years, Children,
urging each other on by peer pressure to overcome their fear, had been
including a trip through the cemetery on their Halloween trick or treat
runs. The cemetery was, after all, a child's Halloween wet dream,
looking exactly like the synthesis of every Hollywood horror film
cemetery created since the 1930's. And then there was the pumpkin
patch. Edgar Lee Masters had had one of his characters in "Spoon River
Anthology" refer to a cemetery as a "wasted garden" and some one, back
in the spring of the year, had decided to prove him wrong, planting
pumpkin seeds in the area that was, Jack believed coincidentally, most
traveled by the children. The pumpkins had thrived on the naturally
fertilized soil of the graves, maturing with an unusual bright, almost
fluorescent orange color. Jack, sitting amongst the vines, was
surrounded by ones with anywhere from eight to twenty-four inch
diameters. They hadn't been a part of his plan, but sitting there
waiting among them, he began to get a fearsomely delicious and
Halloween appropriate idea for making one so.
As coincidence would have it, it was another slumber party that Jack
had heard of. Penny Silver and her friend Marta Lieberman had been in
Mrs. Angstrom's third grade classroom while he was cleaning it one day
a week or so ago. Jack was well aware of Penny and Marta. Both were
Jack's type - beautiful, showing the promise of adult beauty that, if
Jack had his way, they would never achieve. Penny's angelic Nordic face
with ice blue eyes was framed by honey blonde hair that was in twin
ponytails tied off with ribbons the same pink color as her sweater;
Jack thought that made-up she would look like Jon Benet. Marta was the
opposite, olive skinned with straight black hair with violet Elizabeth
Taylor eyes. Jack imagined both sets of eyes wide with fear and
immediately turned his thoughts to their teacher, sixty years old if
she was a day and ugly, to discourage the erection he could feel
beginning. *Later,* he thought to "Big Jack", *Later.*
Mrs. Angstrom had left the room for a moment, and the two girls had
immediately put their heads together and started giggling. To Jack,
with his carefully built up knowledge of the minds of little girls,
this meant secrets, and he deliberately began to sweep around the desks
in which they were sitting, feeling under the edges of the empty desk
tops as he did so. Bingo! As he ran his hand along the underside of the
third desk over from where they were sitting, he detected several wads
of gum, most rock hard, but one squishy, probably newly chewed that
morning. He flipped the desk over and began industrially but carefully
to clean the underside with spray gum dissolver and a cold chisel. This
attention to detail had earned Jack several "Staff Member of the Month"
citations from the school board. Outwardly absorbed in his work, he, of
course, used the time to listen in and discover exactly what Penny and
Marta's secrets were. Carved into the top of the desk he was cleaning
were the words "Love you to pieces!" Jack stifled the chuckle that the
words inspired; good ideas came from such unusual sources.
Marta and Penny, best friends, were giggling about what they planned to
do at Susie Miller's Halloween slumber party. They would sneak out
after the rest of the girls were asleep and, both dressed as witches,
make their way to the cemetery to get a pumpkin. They would go late,
after the teenagers had been and gone. When the other girls awoke in
the morning to see the pumpkin, which, with its uniquely colored skin,
could only have come from the cemetery, their social status would raise
remarkably, and their brave nocturnal adventure would be the talk of
the school for ... well, just forever! Jack couldn't believe his luck.
And here he was at one-thirty in the morning, sitting behind Jackson
Donovan's gravestone amongst the pumpkin vines and pumpkins. The
younger children had come early in the evening, and the teens had come
about eleven and had left shortly after midnight. No one had come for
the last hour, and he was awaiting with hard learned patience the
arrival of the two little witches. The night was a perfect Halloween
night, the full moon alternately being revealed and then hidden by
clouds scudding across the sky, a light wind stirring the dead leaves
in their bright funeral colors across the graves of sleeping (?) dead,
and the temperature cool but comfortable. Jack was dressed in brown,
green, and orange camouflage to blend in, and it was almost as if the
Pumpkins and their vines appreciated his attempt. The pumpkins almost
glowed in their fluorescent orange, and the vines almost seemed to curl
up around him, their leaves caressing him, welcoming him. All in all,
thought Jack, this was turning out to be a most pleasant prelude to the
main attraction.
One pumpkin in particular, seeming to glow more than others, had drawn
Jack's attention and had given him The Idea. He had brought a black
mask to wear, but really was not happy with it. This pumpkin was about
eighteen inches in diameter and Jack, with thoughts of a youthful
reading of Washington Irving's "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow" coming to
mind, had thought that it might do as a head. He would cut a circular
piece from the bottom big enough to fit over his head and carve a
particularly scary face on it for the "benefit" of his two beautiful
visitors. He did not notice that the vine bearing that particular
pumpkin had its roots sunk deep into the soil at the middle of Jackson
Donovan's grave.
At about one o'clock he had carefully untied the bow of the string
holding his leather knife case wrapped. He lovingly unwrapped the well
worn leather carrier to expose his pride and joy, a set of five knives
made by the best Swedish knife maker in the business, knives he had,
with the zeal of the fanatic, spent the day sharpening to razor edges
and polishing till they shown. They ranged in size from a foot long
heavy duty blade, more than adequate to sever a thigh joint if
necessary, to a surgeon's scalpel for delicate work on fingers ... or
ears ... or eyes. "Love you to pieces!"
He selected the medium blade and began to carve, by one-thirty his
"head" was ready; it's carved features seemed to Jack more than able to
project the malevolently evil feelings he had aimed for; the carving
had gone so well that he was ready to swear that the pumpkin had
cooperated in its own transformation. He heard footsteps approaching
and with a sense of gleeful anticipation, he placed the pumpkin on his
head.
As the two witches stepped into view, Jack attempted to rise from
behind the gravestone, but was shocked to find he could not move.
Although there was a bright full moon at that moment, the faces of the
two seemed to be hidden in shadows cast by the brims of their
traditional witches hats. One raised her left arm to the horizontal
toward him and began to move her fingers in arcane motions, A fear he
hadn't felt in ages began to creep into the edges of his mind as,
against his will, he rose and stepped around Jackson's stone into the
girls' full view. Far from showing fear themselves, the two seemed to
radiate power. Neither spoke a word, but they didn't need to. The other
raised her right arm and began a series of movements more complex and
intricate than the first. Back at Susie Miller's house, Penny Silver
and Marta Lieberman were fast asleep, happy smiles from Halloween fun
on their faces just like the other girls. All thoughts of a pumpkin
raid gone as if they had never been.
The pumpkin head began to tighten around Jack's head as the circular
bottom hole began to expand. The vine from which he had taken the
pumpkin wrapped itself around his ankles and pulled him forward so that
he fell with the top of his pumpkin head up against Jackson's stone.
Jack heard ghostly old and evil laughter coming up through the earth
and through the stone to his pumpkin covered ears. Full blown fear
exploded through his mind as the vines began to push his body up into
the pumpkin. he could no longer see the two witches, but he knew they
were there, silently watching. As his shoulders were swallowed, he
imagined ... no it wasn't imagination ... he SAW Theresa O'Leary as she
had looked the night he had lured her into his car standing before him,
pointing at him, a look of justice long deferred on her face, her hair
blowing out behind her as if in a wind he couldn't feel. He felt
excruciating pain in his head, shoulders and also his chest, which was
now also consumed by the voracious pumpkin head. He heard the creaking
and cracking of bones shortening and rearranging. He smelt the stink of
his bowels and bladder releasing before his buttocks was swallowed, his
excrement adding more fertilizer to the no longer wasted garden. The
skin of his scalp, arms, chest, and underarms burned with a pushing and
pulling feeling which extended to the rest of his body as it was
consumed. Just before his groin and buttocks was consumed, Theresa was
joined by Lydia Haskel and her two friends. In the background, he could
sense his other victim's presence as well, and the pain and fear,
which, at the primal level his thoughts had been reduced to, he had
thought couldn't get any worse, exploded to new levels as external and
internal organs churned around and rearranged. When his feet
disappeared into the pumpkin, the bottom sealed itself and the face he
had carved disappeared, replaced only by seamless skin. All that
remained of his mind at that moment was pure overwhelming primal fear
that seemed to go on and on and on.
Where the two witches had stood, two grown plus size ladies now stood.
One was wearing an olive business suit with her hair in a no nonsense
bun and the other a nurse's uniform in retro 1950's style. As dawn
began to break, the pumpkin they had been watching, which had grown to
about a four foot diameter after swallowing Jack, began to fade, along
with the just and righteous magic of the Halloween night that had
spawned it. When it had finally disappeared completely, a beautiful but
disheveled and poorly dressed little girl, a feminine version of Jack
Prior at age four, was lying asleep in a fetal position among the
perfectly ordinary pumpkins.
At a gesture from the olive suited woman, the nurse grabbed the little
girl's arm and none too gently jerked her awake and upright. "Jackie!
Jackie O'Lantern!" said Olive Suit sternly with no kindness in her
voice, "I am sick and tired of your running away like this!"
There was enough of Jack left to wonder who the lady was talking about.
He was confused, but remembered Theresa and Lydia and the rest ... and
the pain ... enough to be still very afraid. He realized he was looking
up at her, and he looked down at himself, his thin legs extending from
his dirty white cotton dress, his blonde but dirty hair resting
partially on his still flat chest. His dress! His hair! JackIE!?! He
tried to scream, but only high pitched guttural sounds emerged and he
realized he was mute, incapable of speech.
Olive suit - the name Mrs. Corleone floated into Jackie's mind - made
an arm and finger gesture that Jack recognized from the night before
and a full length mirror appeared allowing him to see her new self.
Shocked HE took an involuntary step back. SHE was now Jack Prior's wet
dream! Beautiful, small, weak, and incredibly vulnerable, unable to
voice any complaints, the perfect victim.
"yes, JACK," said the nurse holding him - Nurse DeSade, Jackie knew.
"It's time to take Jackie back to her home. ... To The Home." The
mirror, having accomplished it's purpose, disappeared; no evidence of
magic remained outside of Jackie's mind ... but that was enough.
*The Home! Jackie lives in the Home!* Jack thought. The Donovan Home,
where people like him lived and where people like him were in charge!
Maybe worse people than him! And now SHE was being taken there. One
emotion was paramount in Jack/Jackie's mind.
"Oh yes; The Home, Jackie." said Mrs. Corleone. The malevolent grins
were clear on both their faces as she and Nurse DeSade each grabbed a
thin, powerless arm. "Be afraid; be VERY afraid!"
And Jack Prior, now four year old Jackie O'Lantern, was, and would be
for a VERY long time.
End
* - the play is "Requiem for the Child" and it will be performed Nov.
18/19/25/26, 2005 in Lombard, IL, a western suburb of Chicago. If
anyone is interested, e-mail me, [email protected] .
Julianne
- 04.05.2021
- 19
- 0
Jackie is suprised when her bosses make her an off
- 3 years ago
- 12
- 0
Jackie Makes a Move
- 2 years ago
- 14
- 0
