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Archive name: redbox.txt (MF, exh, org, nc)
Authors name: Deputy Duffy (stonedog99_1999@yahoo.com)
Story title : Red Box, The

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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2003.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story.  You may post freely to non-commercial
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Thank you for your consideration.
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The Red Box (MF, exh, org, nc)
by Deputy Duffy (stonedog99_1999@yahoo.com)

***

Doesn't Weird Shit Always Happen on Halloween? It's A 
Battle Between Good And Evil.

***

The week had mercifully ended. I headed for my favorite 
watering hole, planning on spending some of my paycheck 
on cheap beer, and cheaper women. Only I forgot it was 
Halloween. 

Turning around, I made a quick stop at a little store 
for some left-over candy. (You know, the shit no one 
likes.) But at least it might stop me from eating it 
first, like I did last year. (Remembering how long it 
took me to clean the eggs off my front porch.)

I made it home, just as the so called fun started. 
Being a single guy, I had to put on my happy face and 
give out the "treats" to all the ankle-biters. I 
finally shut the front porch light off at ten and 
headed for the frig. 

A cold beer in hand, I crashed down onto my computer 
chair. Thankful that yet another Halloween had ended. 
Turning on the computer and quickly hooking up, I was 
looking forward to some escapism. 

Little did I know?

It only to seconds to realize that today would not be 
like the last. My eyes couldn't seem to focus. The 
screen's glare almost seemed to be burning them. It was 
strange to say the least. I even seem to notice what I 
thought was a red box hovering over the computer 
screen. It was even pulsating, as if begging for my 
attention. I knew it was technically still Halloween 
night... But still. 

I rubbed my eyes, and then gulped down another 
mouthful, laughing at my liquid excuse. It just had to 
be, didn't it? I was still laughing inside when the box 
slowly opened up. No old hinges here, as it opened 
without nearly a sound. Smoke, or fog, perhaps, 
bellowing out.

My jaw dropped in amazement, while being met with the 
realization that my eyes could now focus. Only now they 
were focused solely on the opened red box. I was still 
stunned, but I had no choice but to look now, as 
somehow it had its grips in me. (And doesn't weird shit 
always happen on Halloween, anyways?)

When the box opened, it was as if it had seemingly 
unlocked a key to my soul. Emotions started flowing 
like wine. It all started with green eyes staring back 
at me. A creepy eeriness quickly consumed me. Focusing, 
my fears realized, they were indeed my eyes looking 
back at me. The movie "Taxi Driver" flashed in my head. 
Not the whole flick, just the part with De Nero and his 
famous lines, which I repeated.

Indeed they were looking at me. But it was me, looking 
at me. Confusion abound, I kept on focusing. "Boy did I 
need a shave," was a strange first thought. More 
focusing and a painful realization that a few pounds 
have crept up on me, over the past few. But I was 
older, not a kid anymore. "What did father time 
expect?" I gasped. My voice echoing into my ears. "Wow! 
Is that what my voice really sounds like?" I chuckled 
nervously.

The green eyes swirled their gaze around the bedroom. 
Walls, four by four, not made up of steel bars, but of 
Sheetrock, painted gray. A self-imposed prison cell 
nevertheless. A lone window, which sheltered me from 
the cold, while offering a small glimpse at the world 
outside that often times left me spinning, darkened.

They focused back on the lonely man, who sat in the 
corner, staring above the screen, seemingly frozen. 
Yet, a naked woman projected on the screen doing 
ungodly things with another, seemingly unfazed. 

The sound of music suddenly filled the air. "Why were 
The Talking Heads playing in the background and where 
was my beautiful wife?" I pondered. A painful reminder 
perhaps at the length of time since a female had 
occupied my time, or maybe more importantly, occupied 
the unmade bed against the far wall. 

More focusing, as I asked, "where my eyes always that 
sullen looking?"

Shifting my gaze, to the collection of empty beer 
bottles that collected by my side, searching for a 
clue. Didn't I know that the answer never lie at the 
bottom? Many a man has bought into that lie and I yet 
another victim. 

A sudden crushing pain enveloped me. Breathing became 
difficult. Could this be my last day among the living? 
Is this what this was all about? A flutter of 
nervousness followed my questions, but as suddenly as 
it came, it went. Yet I was left in a panic. Was the 
pain just a preview of my final going away party?

My mind was telling my legs to run now, but they 
weren't listening. Closing my eyes was also futile. It 
was as if someone or something wanted me to see what a 
wreck my existence had become, but deep inside I 
already knew. The pain well hidden by a friendly smile. 
I was the one you would never expect to make the 
headlines. He was such a quiet boy, they would profess. 
But did they know? Does anyone ever?

The focus suddenly shifted. I could suddenly see into 
the window of the house next door. (How? Seemingly cast 
aside.) Not just any window, but it was the shorthaired 
blonde with the porn-starish bodies, window. She had 
used that body to tease many a man over the last few 
years. I among them. 

Her dirty looks, when she caught my hungry eyes, aside, 
I knew it was wrong. I also knew that she would just 
die, if she knew that she had been the inspiration for 
many of my, so called, erotic strip-search stories, 
posted online. However, she was legal now, her 18th 
birthday not so long ago, and yet I still knew it was 
wrong to want her so, but I was hungrier now more then 
ever. (Maybe I should have eaten the candy, after all?) 

I could see her lying on the floor, doing some leg 
exercises. I could see now how she kept them so lean. 
Dressed for a workout, she wore tight black bicycle 
shorts and a red sports bra. Simple, but oh so sexy. 
And not meant for my eyes.

She turned over on all fours and started pressing one 
sneakered foot into the air. Her tight pants molding 
her ass cheeks oh so perfectly. She was simply built 
for sin and judging from the steady stream of male 
suitors to her house, I would say she knew it too. I 
only wondered if she used it too?

She started using the other foot now, up and down it 
went, my body pulsating with every thrust. She suddenly 
crashed face first to the floor. I let out a gasp, 
while she was obviously trying to get up, but something 
had her pinned. 

She managed to turn her head to the side, a sheer look 
of horror etched on her face. I watched her legs begin 
to rise, until she was on her knees, but her chest was 
still pressed to the floor. She appeared to be 
screaming, but no sound came out. The only thing I 
heard was her workout music playing in the background. 

I joined her tremble with fright, as her shorts began 
to lower. First over her hips, and then down around her 
thighs, finally stopping at her knees. I noticed that 
tears were now rolling down her cheeks. "Strange how 
crying looks like laughter without the sound," I 
thought, while also thinking it strange, how her horror 
didn't sicken me more.

Her sports bra pulled away from her body, before it 
went flying across the room. I felt so helpless. I 
wanted to at least explain. But what would I say? 

I watched in awe, as her body started bucking back and 
forth. I could also see her ass cheeks quiver with 
every thrust. It took a second or two to register, 
before I realized that she was being fucked...big time. 

I just didn't know what was fucking her and judging by 
the horrific expression on her face, as she looked over 
her shoulder, she didn't either. From her position, I 
also didn't know if "IT" was fucking her pussy or ass, 
or both perhaps. I also didn't know why that was 
important to me!

I began to feel a strange change in me, as I watched 
her being flipped over. Her body repositioned, giving 
me a good look at her perky breasts, pointing to the 
ceiling, for the first time. Focusing, on her pink 
nipples, each one appeared to be pulled away from her 
body and then they snapped back, several times. Her 
face letting me know when she had entered again. 

I knew the difference between right and wrong... good 
and evil. I knew I should be trying to help her escape 
from her evil invader, but I was strangely jealous. 
(That must have been the change I started to feel 
earlier.) 

Jealous that it wasn't me doing the invading. I wanted 
to be the one using her solely for my pleasure, tossing 
her body into any position I wanted. Not in the name of 
love, but pure sinful lust. I didn't want to know her 
favorite color or food. I didn't want to know her goals 
and aspirations. No, I just wanted to fuck her, and 
fuck her, until she screamed out, screamed out my name.

I lost tract of the number of different positions that 
she was put into that Halloween night, but each one was 
locked into my memory, for future reference. I watched 
as she finally fluttered on the floor, obviously 
enjoying a long overdo orgasm that she had probably 
been fighting so hard to avoid. Her naked body, now 
glowing in perspiration, slowed until she lay still for 
several minutes, except for her heavy breathing and 
some soft weeping. 

"I guess she got more of a workout then she planned 
today," I said to myself with an evil chuckle, to which 
I couldn't believe, asking myself, "what's happing to 
me?" 

I watched as her body was flipped over on her stomach 
again. She wore that not again look, as her knees were 
raised. "Oh yah! Give it to her again!" I cheered, but 
suddenly my view started getting smaller and smaller, 
as I screamed, "WAIT!" over and over. And just like 
that she was gone. Gone from my view and from my 
thoughts. 

She was replaced with different faces, dancing in my 
head. There was Mrs. Johns, (my 7th grade teacher.) 
Beth,(my favorite bartender.) Judy,(my good friend's 
new wife.) April,(my 19-year-old sexy niece.) And many 
more, I didn't know by name, all waiting for me to 
visit them,(in my own special way.) Ready or not. 

Funny what you think of when you feel that you won't be 
held accountable for your actions, or when you've 
conceded that you've lost the battle between good and 
evil.

And what about me? 

I knew it was a battle that took place over time, but 
did Satan finally conquer this soul? Where his meat 
claws buried deep within, waiting for the right day, 
waiting for a final breath? His offer for yet another 
beer, another slice, maybe a burger with extra fries, 
bringing me yet another step closer. His laugh, with 
every poor decision, seemingly always ringing in my 
ears, (even if I didn't always hear it.)

Still focusing, with my head throbbing, and the hands 
of time pressing on my shoulders, always seemingly 
weighing me down. It was almost too much to bear, 
almost. But tomorrow is a new day. 

"The sun will come out tomorrow," the red headed girl 
sang, and hopefully I will find another reason, another 
reason to be. Or was this a sign that tomorrow would be 
my last? A day to make the back pages of the newspaper, 
or would I make the front? Would tomorrow be the day 
that everyone finds out just what evil lies buried deep 
within this quiet man?

The red box suddenly snapped shut and disappeared in a 
flash. My body shuddered, my eyes back to a single 
pair. 

My dream over... or had it just begun?

The End

Your feedback is always welcomed and always 
appreciated.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

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Kristen's collection - Directory 25