Chapter Twenty-Three

The Pumpkin Head

Rafe

As soon as I'd gotten home from work last week with that fucking pumpkin head sex toy in my car, I'd hidden it in here. I hadn't wanted to put it in my bedroom, because… Just because.

Okay, because I'd been scared I'd end up using it.

I was still mad at myself for buying it, but now, as I stepped off the treadmill still breathing hard, I couldn't take my eyes off that bag.

The run had done me good, but I was still feeling… a little tense. Edgy.

I hadn't jerked off this morning, so that was probably why.

I should probably jerk off before work. Just so I wasn't distracted. We had a show tonight, so I'd have to concentrate.

Yeah, jerking off was probably a good idea.

And… well… the toy was right there. I'd bought it. I couldn't return it.

When you thought about it, it was really just a cock sleeve. Wearing a… whimsical costume.

And Ewen's head didn't even turn into a pumpkin. The toy was based on the Headless Horseman legend, not an actual dullahan. So it was entirely unrelated. To him. It had nothing to do with him.

I'd just take a… closer look at it, I decided, slowly walking over to the shelf. I hadn't even done that yet. Just shoved it straight in here and forced myself not to think about the fact that I'd bought a headless horseman-themed pumpkin head sex toy.

Grabbing the bag, I carried it through the house and into the kitchen. After casting a nervous glance out the window, I set it on the island and reached inside to open the box without removing it from the bag. I didn't particularly want any sex toy packaging visible if Ewen decided to sneak into my yard again.

My stomach felt a little jittery, like I was doing something taboo, as my fingers connected with something large and round, encased loosely in plastic packaging. I slid it out of the box, pulled off the plastic and stared down at it in silence.

A bright orange, grinning pumpkin head stared back up at me. It had sinister downward-slanted eye holes, a triangle for a nose and a wide, grinning mouth with jagged teeth. In the centre of those teeth was the cock sleeve, jet black and lined with soft bumps on the inside.

My belly swooping, I tilted it to see the bottom, where there was a second cock sleeve. In the neck hole. Morbidly curious, I lifted it closer to my face so I could peer into one of the eye holes. The two cock sleeves kind of crossed paths in there, butting up against each other.

Swallowing, I lowered it and stared down at its evil grinning face again. I mean, really, it was just a jack-o'-lantern when you thought about it. Kind of false marketing, if you asked me.

That made me feel a little better. I wouldn't be masturbating with a headless horseman-themed pumpkin head. Just a jack-o'-lantern. That was fine, right?

Not that I was definitely going to jerk off with it.

Except I was definitely going to jerk off with it.

Still feeling weirdly nervous, I carried it over to the sink and popped out both the cock sleeves to wash them. When my fingers ran over the little nodules lining the inside of one, my belly swooped again and my cock tingled.

I just needed to jerk off, and a cock sleeve would feel better than my own hand. Get the job done faster. No deeper meaning behind it. None whatsoever.

Cradling the pumpkin head to my chest like I was smuggling contraband, I went upstairs, closed my bedroom curtains and left it on the bed while I went to take a shower. My cock was already half-hard as I soaped up under the spray, anticipation making my belly flutter and my pulse race a little.

By the time I'd dried off and gone back into the bedroom, my dick was rock hard. Still feeling distinctly like I was doing something I shouldn't, I climbed unsteadily onto the bed and leaned back against the headboard, then reached over to grab the lube from the nightstand.

The grinning pumpkin head stared back at me as I slicked up my dick, biting my lip from the feel. Wetting my lips, I slowly reached for it and sat back.

Was I really going to do this?

I exhaled and angled the pumpkin head's grinning mouth over my dick, my thigh muscles twitching when the tip slid just inside the cock sleeve.

Yes. Yes, I was.

There were handy fingerholds on each side of the head, so I could get a good grip as I slowly slid it onto my cock, my lips parting around a little gasp at the slick, textured sensation.

Shit, that felt good.

There was a wet, sucking sound as I slid it back up, and I sighed with pleasure as I started slowly pumping it over my length, my knees falling open wide on the bed. My eyes fluttered shut and I tipped my head back against the headboard, breaths shallowing as I got a good rhythm going.

Suddenly, I noticed a kind of… hum coming from the pumpkin head in my hands. Not a vibration, but like something had been triggered or switched on, even though I hadn't noticed a battery panel anywhere on the toy, and I definitely hadn't put batteries in it.

My brows twitched, then my eyes popped open as the sleeve around my cock started to… move . Tightening and releasing, like a sucking mouth taking deep draws.

"Ooh shit." I inhaled sharply, head tilting down to stare at the pumpkin. Carefully, I started feeling around on the base, wondering if I'd knocked a switch I hadn't noticed, before the sleeve's suction got stronger, squeezing my dick.

I shuddered out a breath, deciding I didn't care what was happening.

Yeah, this wouldn't take long at all.

Slouching back against the headboard, I dug my heels into the mattress so my hips could thrust up into every downward plunge of the toy. My toes curled, breaths quickening until I was panting. The sleeve—mouth? Whatever—was sucking me so hard now, squeezing tight around my dick. So tight it was almost getting difficult to keep sliding it up and down.

A few seconds later, it actually started feeling a little too tight. Breathing hard, I looked down and realised I could only move the pumpkin head up and down about an inch now.

I winced when the sleeve tightened even more, and suddenly I couldn't move it at all.

"Wh-what?" I stared down at it in a daze. The pumpkin head's grinning mouth was pressed up against my pubic mound, my cock fully embedded in the sleeve. It was still sucking, massaging my dick and making me twitch, even as my heart started to pound for a different reason.

I tightened my grip on the fingerholds and gently tugged. It didn't move.

Panic started creeping in. I tugged again, a little harder this time, and immediately gasped in pain when the pumpkin head resisted. In fact, it seemed like the sleeve tightened up even more in defiance, making me shudder with a disconcerting blend of pain and pleasure. It felt like it was going to rip my fucking cock off.

"Fuck," I whimpered, too scared to try again. I sat up, letting out an undignified noise as the sleeve kept sucking and massaging.

Clambering up onto my trembling knees, I got on all fours on the bed and looked down, hoping gravity would help me out and the weight of the toy would make it slide right off.

It didn't.

Starting to sweat, I shook my hips to try and wiggle it loose. When that didn't work, I bounced on my hands and knees a few times, hoping the motion would jerk it off my dick. All it did was send another sharp flare of pain through my pubic mound and up my shaft, so I quickly stopped.

"Fuuuck." I scrambled—very carefully—off the bed and stared down in horror at the pumpkin head stuck on my dick. It was still sucking me, but I was too panicked to even register the sensations now.

I looked around my bedroom wildly. For anything. Anything that might help. Spotting the lube on my nightstand, I lunged for it and squeaked when my thigh knocked the pumpkin head.

Lube. More lube would help loosen things up. With trembling fingers, I aimed for the pumpkin head's mouth and squirted out half the tube, trying to coat the minuscule sliver of the base of my cock that was still just barely visible.

"Come on," I muttered, heart hammering in my chest. "Come on, come on, come on."

All I managed to achieve was coating my pubes, the rest of the lube dripping down my thighs and onto the floor. Still, I dropped the tube and gently tried to slide the toy free again, wanting to cry when it didn't move an inch.

"Fuck," I barked, my chest heaving as I stared down at it.

I'd accidentally triggered some setting that was cranked up to the max. That had to be it. There had to be a switch or something on this thing. Wincing, I doubled over and tried to spot a switch or a button or a dial anywhere on the pumpkin. I frantically felt along the bottom, but there was only the second neck hole sleeve.

"Why?" I moaned, resisting the urge to punch the fucking thing. Definitely not a good idea.

The box. I shot back up as the thought popped into my head, shuddering with horror when the sleeve tugged on my dick. It had stopped moving, at least, but grown even tighter.

This was definitely not good.

Maybe the box would tell me what the fuck was happening. There was probably an instruction manual or something.

Please, god, let there be an instruction manual.

I spun for the door and squawked in shock and pain when the pumpkin head smacked into my bedside lamp and sent it crashing to the ground. I didn't have the mental capacity to care at this point, so I ignored it and headed for the door, but I'd forgotten about the puddle of lube on the floor at my feet. My heel slipped, sending my leg flying out in front of me. I yelped and flung my arm out to grab for the nightstand as I went down, my shoulder blades bouncing off the edge of the mattress and cushioning my fall.

I hissed as the pumpkin head bounced between my hips, smacking into my stomach. My legs were shaking even worse as I struggled back to my feet, practically snorting through my nose like an angry bull.

"Fuck you," I yelled in the general direction of my nightstand. At what, I didn't even know. The lube. The lamp. I was angry at all of it.

Hunching over and cradling the pumpkin head in my hand, I carefully waddled down the stairs and into the kitchen, my legs quaking wildly. Tearing the bag off the box, I stared down at it with frantic eyes.

‘Doctor Otticker Sexlie Richard-Regina's Headless Horseman Cocksucker' it declared in a whimsical font above a picture of the grinning pumpkin head. Below it, in smaller letters, were the words ‘This Headless Horseman is hungry for dick!'

In the corner was a small photo of a fae woman with enormous breasts straining above the low-cut neckline of her sexy fairy costume. She was wearing black-framed glasses and holding a wand to her pouting mouth, as if she was deep in thought.

‘Imbued with the good doctor's unique, one-of-a-kind sex magic!' it said beneath her.

"What?" I squawked, shaking the box in my hands. I was gripping it so tight that it started to crumple. "Sex magic? What the fuck is sex magic?!"

Practically ripping the box in half, I looked inside and groaned in despair when I saw there was no instruction manual. Surely that was against some industry standard. If your sex toys came imbued with sex magic, they should also come with a fucking manual .

I spun the box in my hands and frantically scanned the text on the back, barely taking it in as I twitched from the tight, painful pressure around my dick, not even remotely aroused anymore.

‘Sensational magic sucking motion! Feels like the real thing!'

‘This Headless Horseman has been roaming the WOODIES searching for his next victim. Victim of his COCK-HUNGRY mouth, that is! He's not going to stop until he SUCKS every HARD, THROBBING DICK he comes across, and you won't be able to stop COMING when he gives you the best PUMPKIN HEAD of your life!'

"None of this is fucking helpful," I barked, sweating profusely at this point. I dropped the box and snatched up my phone.

The internet. The internet would help. The internet always helped.

My fingers trembling, I opened up ArachNetwork, the secret browser that let me access the supernatural web, and hurriedly searched for ‘Doctor Otticker Sexlie Richard-Regina's Headless Horseman Cocksucker toy.'

All the blood drained from my face as I frantically scanned the results.

‘"DR." OTTICKER S. RICHARD-REGINA HAS NO MEDICAL LICENCE!' was the title of a blog post.

‘Multiple injuries recorded as worrying new trend of unregulated, magic-infused adult toys gains popularity' read the headline of an article.

‘Currently sitting in the ER with a pumpkin head on my dick' said the start of a forum thread.

I swallowed hard and clicked on that one.

‘Never buying Dr. Otticker toys again' the body of the post said. ‘Felt great at first but now the fucking thing won't come off. Too painful for me to nut but my dick won't go down.'

My eyes flicked down to the top comment.

‘Dr. Otticker is a quack' it read. ‘Have heard horror stories for years about her "sex magic" and how temperamental it is. Don't buy her products. Not worth the risk. Hopefully you've learned your lesson and your dick doesn't fall off.'

The reply underneath it said ‘Yep, and the Headless Horseman Cocksucker is especially notorious for malfunctioning. Should've done some research, OP.'

"Nooo," I moaned, dropping my phone and staring down at the pumpkin head, my vision blurry with panic.

Why wasn't my erection going down? I wasn't having any fucking fun anymore. It just hurt. If my dick got soft, surely I'd be able to get it out of the sleeve.

I looked around in desperation. My wild gaze landed on the fridge-freezer.

Cold would help. Cold would make it shrivel up. I hobbled to the fridge, hunched over and whimpering as the pumpkin head bobbed with every step, and tugged open the freezer door. With shaking hands, I grabbed a fistful of ice cubes and tried to squeeze a couple down between the toy and my pubic mound.

When they just slipped past and landed on the floor, I let out a sob of despair. "Just get the fuck off me!"

I yanked open the fridge and scanned its contents, homing in on my big bottle of extra extra hot, throat-stripping homemade hot sauce.

My chest heaved as I stared at it. I swallowed thickly.

Maybe pain would work.

There was no way my erection would be a match for several million Scoville heat units. If I poured some into a bowl and dipped my nuts into it, the agony would surely overpower whatever faulty sex magic Doctor Otticker had infused the pumpkin with.

Tears pricking my eyes, I grabbed the bottle with a quaking hand. Ten seconds later, I was staring down at a bowl of the thick, angrily red sauce on my kitchen floor.

I knew I wasn't thinking rationally at this point, but there was absolutely no way I could go to the ER like this. I just couldn't. I wouldn't survive the embarrassment.

Breathing fast through my nose, I gripped the edge of the kitchen counter and slowly lowered myself into a squat over the bowl of hot sauce, my legs shaking wildly.

I couldn't see my nuts thanks to the pumpkin head, but just knowing that they were hovering mere inches above a liquid that had, on several occasions, caused my friends to weep in agony made me sniffle.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I loosed a shaky exhale and tried to prepare myself. Long seconds later, I resolutely tightened my grip on the edge of the counter and lowered myself half an inch, then immediately stopped as I groaned weakly and shook my head.

Nope. Couldn't do it.

A sudden sound from the hall had me snapping my head up, making my pulse spike. It almost sounded like a key in the lock. Before I could react, the door swung open. Ewen burst into my house with a baseball bat cocked over his shoulder and a panicked look on his face.

"Rafe?" he shouted, then stopped dead when he saw me through the doorway to the kitchen.

Naked and squatting over a bowl of hot sauce with a pumpkin on my dick.

His eyes grew wide. Speechless, he slowly lowered the bat until it hung limply from his hand as he stared at me in stunned silence.

I was too desperate to care about anything at this point.

"There's a pumpkin stuck on my dick," I told him in a small, shaky voice.