Halloween Tricks
by Aldric

Copyright 2006 by Aldric, all rights reserved.

*****
This story is intended for ADULTS ONLY.  It contains
depictions of sexual activity involving minors. If you are
not of a legal age in your locality to view such material or
if such material does not appeal to you, do not read
further, and do not save this story.

Comments may be made to Pietar_the_fearless@yahoo.com
*****


Halloween Tricks

The year I turned 12 my family lived in a new development
that used to be farm land.  All of the streets ended along a
wooded area that boarded the remains of the farm.  Four
streets over was a gravel driveway that twisted though the
small line of trees to a farm house.

Three kids lived at the farm house, a girl who was in eighth
grade, or two years ahead of me, another girl who was in my
sixth grade class, and their brother who was in fourth
grade.  That first Halloween I learned that the long walk
back to their house wasn't worth it because they didn't give
out candy, instead they asked for tricks, and gave out
toothbrushes and pennies.

So after we were done trick-or-treating my two best friends
and I snuck back there and soaped the windows and threw a
few rolls of toilet paper around, then beat it out of there
before we got caught.

The next year we planned a bigger assault on the house,
complete with eggs.  Halloween was on a Saturday that year
so we decided the best time to hit them was early in the
evening so that we could come back later trick-or-treating
and assess the damage to see if we needed to conduct a
second attack knowing we could stay out later if necessary
since it wasn't a school night.

We waited until the sun had just set, and then moved down
the gravel driveway until we could see the house.  The front
door, where all the lights were on, was to our right, and we
split up, my two friends taking the near side and back,
while I took the far side.  I got into position and heard
the sound of an egg hitting the house from my right, so I
unloaded.  We each carried 6 eggs, and I got four of them
off before someone tackled me from behind.  Three pairs of
arms pinned me down and dragged me over to the light, where
I saw that Jake, one of my friends, had also been captured.

We had made the classic mistake of underestimating our
enemy, who had reinforcements that year.  Unknown to us,
they had some cousins staying with them, so instead of just
the three kids who normally were there, there was a girl of
about 14 or 15, one our age, a boy of around our age, and
two younger kids, a boy and girl about 8 or 9.  So it was
eight-to-two (our friend Mike had apparently escaped) and
they had no trouble with us, especially since both of us
were skinny runts anyway.

Without even saying a word, they began to strip us, and I
mean strip.  They took shoes, socks, everything, even taking
Jake's eyeglasses.  Then while the older ones held us, they
painted our backsides with yellow paint, and our penis and
balls with red.  Once that was done, they let us go, and the
older girl told us that if we wanted our clothes back to
come back with our parents.  It was obvious that after last
year they were ready for us and had planned just what they
were going to do when we showed up.

Then with a couple of hard swats across our bare backsides,
they sent us off.  We quickly found that it was impossible
to move quickly while barefoot on gravel so we were reduced
to making slow, painful progress.  Our progress was also
slowed by the fear that we might meet some other kids coming
to trick or treat.  Once we were about half way out, Mike,
our other friend, came out of hiding (and scared me and Jake
half to death) and his immediate reaction was laughter.

His laughter was short lived however, as the other kids had
come up quietly through the woods and quickly caught him. 
He shared our fate, so that left us without any ray of hope
that he might be able to help us.

Once we got to the end of the driveway, we had pavement, but
a new problem presented itself—streetlights.  And the
streets were filled with kids out trick-or-treating because
it was still very early in the evening.  We turned to go
back into the trees to wait until later, but the kids from
the farm were still there.  They threatened to tie us to a
lamppost unless we got off their property right then, and
they produced the rope to show us they meant business.

So we scampered out into the light and then took off at a
dead run.  I know that dozens of kids must have seen us
running naked through the streets that night, but apparently
nobody recognized us because all we heard were people
laughing and yelling about seeing the streakers.

We separated at our respective houses (Jake and Mike lived
next door to each other, and I lived across the street from
them), and I tried to sneak in the back door without being
caught.  But my brother was just getting ready to head out
to do his own candy gathering and when he saw me coming in
from outside with a bright red penis, he broke out into
laughter which brought my dad.

Now, I loved my dad, but not necessarily that night, or even
the next few days.  He of course wanted to know what had
happened, and I told him the truth—me and Mike and Jake were
trick-or-treating when a gang of hoodlums jumped us.

Yeah, he didn't believe it either.  He asked me where my
clothes were, and knowing it would only make him more angry
if I continued to lie to him I gave in and told him the
truth, we had been TP'ing the farmhouse and they caught us. 
He then shouted at my mother that he was going out, and
pulled me out of the house by my arm.  "Wait a second, dad"
I pleaded "let me put something on first" but we were
already half way to the car.  My brother, who was 11 that
year, decided this was going to be a lot more fun than
trick-or-treating, so he invited himself along for the ride.

Without a word, my dad threw me into the car and drove over
to the farm.  Once we got there and they showed my dad the
egg stains, and the fact that I still had two eggs in the
pocket of my pants, the real truth was obvious.  My dad was
really mad that I had lied about my involvement twice.  He
took my clothes and told them I would be back in the morning
to clean up the mess.  Then he made me stand there, still
naked in front of the five girls and three boys, and
apologize to them.  My little brother was in heaven.  When
we got home, my dad took me into the garage and gave me some
turpentine to clean the paint off with, closed the garage
door, and left.  Now mind you, I was still naked, and our
garage had windows across the door; and with all the lights
on inside anyone could see in but I couldn't see out.  My
little brother hung around, and I asked him to keep watch,
but he kept pulling the door part way up just to torture me. 
I got as clean as I dared, and got ready to make a run for
the back door.

Our garage was not attached to the house, so I needed my
little brother to open the door when there was nobody around
while I ran to the house.  I should have known that he was
having too much fun, but I was never credited with being too
smart in those days.  So as soon as he started to open the
door, I dived under it, only to see a group of kids on the
front walk just coming up our driveway.  Of course, my
brother had pulled the door back down and turned on the
outside lights, so I ran as fast I could to the house, where
my father told me to go straight to bed.  I could hear the
kids who saw my dash up the drive laughing as they left.

The next morning my dad drove me over to the farm again, and
again my brother tagged along.  I asked my dad to tell Randy
(that's my brother) to stay home but he ignored me.  Randy
knew then he was immune to anything he did to me that day.

The parents were out for the day and had left the two older
girls to watch the younger kids.  By the time we arrived,
Jake's dad had already dropped him off and told the girls
that Jake was to clean up the mess he made.  Apparently Mike
had made it back home without getting caught because he
never showed up to do any cleaning.

My dad, however, believed that I deserved a lot more
punishment than just cleaning up the mess I had made like
Jake's dad was making him do.  It probably had something to
do with the lies I told.  My dad told the girls that I was
to stay until they were satisfied with the quality of my
work, and not to let me slack off.  Then he told them that
if my attitude wasn't right or if I didn't do what they said
that he had no problem with the way they had handled me the
night before.

Well, Jake and I worked until noon, when his side of the
house was clean.  All through the morning I made sure to be
polite and work hard even though I sure didn't feel like it. 
Even though I wasn't too smart sometimes I was wise enough
to know that my dad had given them permission to strip me
again and I wasn't planning on giving them a reason to do
it.

When Jake finished his side of the house he came to help me
with mine, but the girls told him his job was done and he
needed to go home.  Happy to get out of there, he left. 
They made me clean the area where Mike's eggs had hit since
he wasn't there, and then they had me clean stuff that
didn't even have egg on it, reminding me every time I
started to get lazy what my dad had said.  But by three in
the afternoon I was exhausted and that was when they started
to find fault with the quality of my work.  I was too tired
at that point to keep my mouth closed and told them
basically that I was done and was going home.

I knew it was the wrong thing to say even before the words
were out of my mouth but it was too late.  Sure enough,
before I could even think of running, I was being stripped
again.  They gave my clothes to my brother who made sure to
stay far enough back that I couldn't grab him.  Then they
told me I had to stay until I got the windows streak-free
(get it?  Streak free.  They made sure I understood the
joke).  I had to endure the stares and laughter of all of
them, including my brother, while I went back to work, only
this time I was naked.  My penis, which wasn't all that big
in those days anyway, shriveled up from the humiliation and
the chilly air temperature and that added even more
ammunition to their jokes.  I worked for 30 or 40 minutes,
and then they said it was good enough but there was still
one more thing that had to be done.

I stood there for a second wondering what was next until I
saw the three youngest kids carrying cans of yellow and red
paint and paint brushes.  I tried to run but it only took
seconds for them to catch me.  They held me while the other
kids eagerly painted me, making sure to cover every inch of
my penis and balls, a task made even easier for them because
my body chose that time to give me a boner.  In addition to
my groin and butt, they also wrote their names on my back
with the red paint.  Gail, the girl who was in my class at
school, told me that was so that when she told the kids at
school what they did to me and they didn't believe her she
could prove it to them.  I knew then that I had to get that
paint off that night.

Then it was time for me to leave.  I begged them, to give me
my clothes back.   I tried bribing them by telling them I
would do more work for them, but they gave me the same deal
as the night before, get off their property immediately, or
they would tie me to a light pole.  So at about 4 in the
afternoon I found myself in broad daylight, totally naked,
and about a mile from my home.  My brother, bless his heart,
took off ahead of me.  And since he had shoes on and I
didn't, he was out of sight before I reached the first bend
in the gravel driveway.

When I got to the end of their driveway I held back, waiting
for a kid on a bike to go by.  This time they didn't even
give me a warning.  Instead they grabbed me and pulled me to
a light pole.  They were yelling and making all kinds of
noise, which was getting the attention of all the kids in
the area.  They pulled a rope around my chest and asked me
if I was ready to move on or not.  Of course, I said yes,
considering the alternative.  The kid on the bike was back
laughing at me as I ran up the street towards home.  I
hadn't gone 50 feet though before I saw my brother standing
there with my clothes.

I ran to him, but he took off, yelling at me to "run, run,
and run!"  He turned up the wrong street and like a fool I
followed him instead of going straight home.  But maybe he
feared for his life, because he only went three blocks
before he dropped my clothes on the ground and continued on
to the next block.  (I found out later that my dad, who knew
it would end up with me naked, had told him to wait for me
across the street from their driveway.  Of course, he
figured that was too easy, so he moved to where I would have
a bigger audience for my run.)

So I dressed and ran home, but my dad was mad at me over the
whole thing, and made me do chores until it was time to eat,
then, since I had school the next day and hadn't done my
homework yet, I had to work on that.  The result was that by
the time I got to the bathtub the paint had dried, and
wouldn't come off.  I knew I had to get those names off if
nothing else and for that I needed my little brother's help.

He had been hiding in his room knowing that I was planning
on murdering him.  We made a deal that if he would help get
the paint off I wouldn't hurt him or even tell my dad what
he had done.  (The last part was easy because I didn't think
my dad would have cared anyway.  He was pretty pissed off at
me and would probably figure I deserved it.)

We went out to the garage and I got a bucket and poured a
little bit of turpentine in it and took off my shirt.  He
used a rag and kept rubbing while he told me it was slowly
coming off.  Finally, just before my mom called us for bed,
he said there was still a red streak but the names were
gone.  Trusting him completely (like I said, I wasn't a
gifted child when it came to brains) I cleaned up the stuff
in the garage and followed him into the house.

My butt and groin were still painted but there wasn't much I
could do about it in the morning before school.  At least I
didn't have gym until Tuesday so I had one more night to try
and get it off before the other kids in gym would see it.

By the time I got to school I could tell from the stares and
giggles that Gail had been telling her friends about my
Halloween adventures at her house.  It was right after
homeroom that I was herded into the bathroom and a bunch of
boys demanded that I take off my shirt.  With full trust in
my little brother I complied, only to hear roars of laughter
as they saw my back.  One kid traced out the names as he
read them off: Gail, Sue, Scott, Evelyn, Dwayne, Kyle,
Donna, and Linda.  All of the names were there, just like
Gail had said.

At that point, my pants were pulled down and the laughter
really started as they saw the bright red paint on the front
and the equally bright yellow paint on the back.  I was well
known for years after that for my unique "Halloween costume"
and was asked every year if I was going to wear it again.

And my brother?  He had used water instead of the turpentine
to make sure he didn't erase any of the names.  He and the
younger kids all knew each other from elementary school and
so my fate was well known to them too.  They all yelled
"streaker, streaker," as I walked home in shame from my
school.  Not that I let my brother get away with it, but
that's another story.