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From: The Technician <technician666@gmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Danny Boy - A Halloween Story     Halloween, Fantasy 
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Date: Fri, 10 Oct 2014 06:10:02 -0400
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Danny Boy - A Halloween Story

by The Technician

Halloween, Fantasy 

 = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
A Leprechaun's Tale of Ancient Victory over The Four Sisters

This is more whimsical and humorous than it is erotic. But then humor
is always erotic. "He makes me laugh," is one of the most often given
reasons for a woman to love an otherwise unattractive, unlovable man.

The story does contain descriptions / reference to normal sex, oral,
anal, and masturbation.

 = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

WARNING!  All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18
ONLY.  Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content.  All
people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to
persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations,
and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real
life.

If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference
between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province,
nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts
depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to
somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century.

Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if
acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is
included with the article.  This story is copyright (c) 2014 by The
Technician ( Technician666@Gmail.Com. )

Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this
story for personal, non-commercial use.  Production of multiple copies
of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly
forbidden.
 = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Published eBooks by Wayne Mitchell (The Technician}
Senior Project  http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=7753

 = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
 * * * * * * * * * * * * 

It was very late at night- or very early in the morning depending on
your point of view. I am always up sometime during the night. I think
I inherited that from my father. In any case, it was a little after
2:00 am and I was sitting at my computer reading through stories that
I planned to enter in this year's Halloween Story contests.

My in-house editor had already gone through them and corrected my
atrocious grammar and my even more atrocious spelling. ... The only
good thing that can be said about my spelling is that at least I
remember that there is an "r" in shirt.

The stories were ready, but it is always a good idea to go back and
read them one last time as if you've never read them before.
Sometimes, for that final reading, I even read them aloud. Once in a
while I'll find a sentence or phrase that doesn't say what I thought
it said.

An hour later, I had made two very minor changes to one of the stories
and was about to head back to bed when a small voice said, "Laddie,
laddie, laddie. Is that the lot? You'll be a real disappointment to us
all this year, ya will. An' I was tellin' all me friends at the pub
that you were me favorite author."

I looked around trying to find the source of the voice and discovered
a man about three inches high sitting on a dead mouse near the corner
of my desk. It was a computer mouse, not a rodent. It no longer
functioned, but I had merely shoved it aside and never gotten around
to throwing it away. It made the perfect bench for him as he sat on it
with his legs crossed, holding his top hat in his hands and smoking a
long-stemmed pipe. His hat and his frock coat were emerald green, and
he was wearing matching green pants with green slippers that curled up
at the toes.

Some people might have reacted in shock at seeing something like this
on their desk in the middle of the night, but my connection to reality
is tenuous enough that nothing surprises me anymore. Besides, I have a
sleep disorder that sometimes allows me to wake up without totally
waking up or go to sleep without totally going to sleep. The result is
I can start dreaming while I am awake or I wake up and keep dreaming.
I've even learned to control the dreams somewhat, so, it's like having
your own personal holo-deck that I can take with me wherever I go.
With all of that in my life, I've learned to just go with the flow and
see where things end up.

So, rather than freaking out, I replied, "I thought Leprechauns were
supposed to be about three feet high, not three inches high."

He laughed, stood up and said, "We can be any size we want to be." 

Suddenly he was eight or nine feet tall crouching between the desk and
the ceiling. His bass voiced boomed out "But it's kind of hard to hide
behind the flowers when you are ten times your normal size."

He jumped off the desk and landed with a resounding thud before
shrinking to my expected three feet high. "Ye be disappointin' us this
year," he said. "Ye don't have an Irish story for Halloween. And where
would Halloween be without the ould sod. It all started there, ye
know."

"Yes, I know." I replied. "And I know that it's supposed to be on the
dark of the moon following the fall equinox, not on October 31st. But
the pixies haven't been whispering in my ear this year and I have
nothing to write." 

"Ah, yes," he laughed. "The spriggan lassie is still a bit upset about
your collection of erotic faerie images."

"That was a Tinkerbell erotic Photoshop contest!" I blurted out as I
looked over my shoulder at printouts of Tinkerbell in a series of very
naughty poses. "I suppose she was offended," I said. 

"Offended?" he snorted. "That wee lassie wasn't offended. She was
jealous. She was spittin' thorns that you didn't ask her to pose for
ya."

"Tell her I'm sorry." I said, "Maybe she will bring me a story for
next year."

"Aye," he said, "but that doesna solve the problem for this year, does
it?"

He took a long draw on his pipe before pointing the stem at me and
saying, "Though I have a story for ye. It's all about how I defeated
the four west country cailleach sisters."

"Wait a minute," I said and starting typing furiously on my keyboard.
"What's a cailleach sister? And, who are you? What's your name?"

"Some people like to call them witches," he said, "but the west
country sisters weren't wise ones. Hags would be a better word. And
these hags were more like demons. I think the English word is
`succubus'. They would draw the life out of man as they drew out his
seed."

"OK," I sputtered, trying to keep up with him. "I'm getting this. But
I would still like to know your name."

"Me name is ...." He made a noise that sounded very much like a cat
hacking up a very large hairball. "But most modern people, especially
Americans, have a wee bit o' trouble with the old tongue."

He smiled at me and his eyes literally twinkled. "You can call me
`Danny,'" he said, "... like in the song."

He then launched into an off-key rendition of Danny Boy. I was hoping
he wasn't going to ask my opinion on his singing. I'm really not a
good liar, and I have learned the hard way in the past that it is not
a good idea to piss off magical creatures. Luckily he didn't ask. He
just finished the final chorus and wiped the tears from his eyes. 

"I'll call the story, `Danny Boy,'" I told him, and that brought a
fresh flood of tears.

"It were a long, long time ago," he began, "before the English put
their boots on the throats of the blue people, back when Halloween was
dancing around the bonfires on Dark Night and bringin' the glowing
coals home in a carved turnip to relight the family hearth with
purified fire."
He looked up at the ceiling as if he was treasuring some memories and
laughed. "There was a bit more to those fires and the dancing than a
lot of your history books will tell ya," he said. "You were supposed
to give yourself over to the night and the fire and the spirits.
Nothin' between you and the night... Nothin' between you and the
fire... Nothin' between you and the stars... And it was a very dark
night as ye walked back to your hut naked with nothing but a burning
coal in a carved out turnip to light your way."

He took a deep sigh. "Lot's of things could happen in front of those
fires or on those paths, and aye, it often did.  If ye check the
ancient records, ye'll find that a good many Celtic laddies and
lassies were born just after the summer solstice. Some of the young
lassies would even signal their willingness by making their lanterns
wink."

I must have looked confused because he pointed the stem of his pipe at
me again and explained, "After ye carved full eyes out of the turnip,
ye put part of the core back in one of them so that the eye appeared
to wink. Some young lassies would carry that extra piece out of the
house in their mouths so their parents wouldn't know. ... Some wives
did the same thing."

He laughed, but then suddenly looked very sour, almost angry.
"Unfortunately," he spat out, "so did the west country sisters. They
would appear on the path and walk as though they were on their way
home and seeking some company, but they were really casting their nets
into the blackness to trap young men."

He shuddered, "I can think of worse ways to die, but having all of the
sexual bliss that I would ever feel in me entire life condensed into
those last few seconds doesn't seem all that pleasurable. Ye could
tell that it was one of the sisters because a young man would be
missing and a shrunken, dried out old man would be found dead next to
the path."

He raised himself up to his full three feet of height and said, "I
decided that I was going to do something about it. So I watched the
sisters throughout the summer and hid and listened while they made
their plans. I knew where to be and what time to be there. It took
some very powerful magic, but I looped time so that I could intercept
all four of them in the same night.

"The sisters were ancient, older even than me, but their magic hid
their age and their ugliness. To a young man waiting beside the path,
they were beautiful. Even to my eyes, the first sister was almost more
than I could behold. She was walking naked in the starlight. Her skin
was so white that even in that dimness, it seemed to shine. I knew
that her hair was flaming red, but in the darkness it appeared almost
black, especially between her legs.

"She was waving her lantern from side to side in time with a song she
was singing. The song was one the young men would know and spoke of a
woman pining for her lover who had left her alone and lonely. As she
approached, I stepped out onto the path. I had made m'self normal
size, which in those days was about five foot, four. Since I can
control the size of different parts of me body separately, I made what
was important a little bigger than normal."

"Jeez, can you teach me how to do that?" I asked as I typed.
He just laughed and continued his story. "She wasted no time and set
her lantern on the ground and lay beside it. `Hurry,' she said. `Me
parents are not far behind.'

"That was a lie, but it made no difference to me. She spread her legs
and I knelt between them. The scent of her arousal was almost
overpowering, and probably would have overpowered a mortal. I plunged
into her and in a short time we were both approaching that point where
she would strike. Once a man starts to spurt, she transforms and
continues to draw the seed- and his life, out of his body until there
is nothing left but an empty husk.

"I began to spurt and she transformed, but as soon as she transformed,
she realized what I was. It was too late. She had opened herself to
draw me seed and me life into her body, but instead it was me magic
that flowed into her."

He looked up at me and his face was set in determination as if he were
reliving the events he described. "Ye can't kill a west country
sister, but I took away her magic so she could never again transform
back to her beautiful self. And then I banished her to the most far
away and desolate land I could find."

The second sister had blonde hair that shimmered in the very dim
starlight. She wasn't carrying a turnip lantern, but was walking down
the path like a young lass who was dawdling behind her family. When I
stepped out onto the path, she turned, but it wasn't to run. She bent
over exposing that which men and women have in common.

"The cheeks of her ass were round and plump and she wiggled them at me
as she giggled and said, `Is this what ye've been seeking, laddie?'

"`Aye,' I answered.

I knew that she had charmed many faithful husbands into her clutches,
and now I knew how. There were many men who preferred that nether road
to bliss but their wives would never allow it, and here she was on
Dark Night offering it to me bold as brass. I leaned over her and
grabbed her breasts. She was slick with sweat or grease or both and I
slid easily into her. She bucked back against me like a foal gamboling
through a pasture.

Again, just as I started to spurt, she transformed from her sleek
beauty into the horrible hag she truly was. And again, she realized
that I was the hunter, not the hunted. She screeched out a scream that
would have awakened the dead to defend her if they had been allowed to
hear it, but me magic was already within her and her powers were all
but gone. I banished her to join her sister. 

"The third sister had auburn hair that appeared absolutely black in
the dim starlight of Dark Night. She was carrying two turnip lanterns
and swinging them in wide arcs so that they almost appeared to form a
smile in the air in front of her. Her skin was darker than her
sisters' and she was barely visible in the faint light. When I stepped
onto the path, however, she smiled, and her brilliant white teeth
seemed to glow in the light of the lanterns she then held close to her
breast.
"`I know what you want,' she said with a very throaty voice that was
almost as deep as a man's. Then she knelt on the path in front of me."

He looked at me as though he were embarrassed and said, "I'd never had
a woman... or sprite... or faerie... or any being... take me into
their mouths before. It almost distracted me at a time that I could
not afford to be distracted, but I recovered m'self just in time and
sent me magic into her mouth along with me seed. 

"Luckily, I also used me magic to protect m'self because when she
reverted to her hag self, she attempted to bite down on me with her
scraggly teeth." He crossed his arms and huffed, "She joined her
sisters."

He jumped up onto my desk and reduced himself back to his miniature
size and sat once again upon the computer mouse at the edge of the
desk. "The fourth sister," he said, "was a problem."

He sighed. "Ye may have noticed that one sister used the sex God gave
her, one used her arse, and one used her mouth. The fourth sister used
none of those. As I stepped into the path, she came up to me and
started sliding her hands over all me body. She was flowing magic out
of her fingers... I could tell because it was having a wonderful
effect on me maleness. I had to concentrate to keep from letting it
grow too big. Then she slipped around behind me and reached under me
arms to grab me engorged prick.

"Her hands were greased with something, and she slipped them up and
down while pressing herself into me back. As she moaned and writhed
behind me, I realized that she was planning to spill me seed onto the
path while she took me life by biting me on the neck and sucking the
blood from me body."

He crossed his legs and shook his head and took a long draw from his
pipe. "I thought I was a goner," he said. "But I have magic fingers,
too. I pulled me arms around to me back and started rubbing her
between the legs. Me fingertips were hot with the magic I was sending
out of them, and it was all sexual magic. I could feel her sex
throbbing beneath me hands. She could sense what I was and what I was
doing. She could also sense that she was losing control and she began
sending more magic through her hands onto me prick. It was a
tremendous battle of wills. The first one to lose control of
themselves would be the loser."

He laughed. "If she had been the first sister rather than the last, I
wouldn't be here today to tell the tale. But four times in a row even
for a Leprechaun is pushing it a mite. I had the advantage on her and
after a short while, her legs suddenly began shaking and she started
crying out. Her hands dropped from me prick, and I turned and plunged
into her as we stood.

"I began to spurt and she began to transform. Her power was increased
by her orgasm so it was touch and go for a moment. I was afraid that
she could still overpower me. Then she gave a faint scream and fell to
the ground as her magic left her. I sent her to join her sisters."

He stood up and began to pace back and forth across my desk. "I
defeated them all and sent them to a far away and nearly empty land
where they could do no harm. I figured that with no way to renew their
powers they would eventually fade away into the mists."

He sat back down and puffed furiously on his pipe. "Something tells
me," I said, "that things didn't exactly work out they way you
planned."

"Thousands of years ago," he began, "this was a far away and nearly
empty land."

"Do you mean you sent them here?!" I sputtered. "Does that mean the
four whatever-they-are sisters are roaming this land looking for men
to consume?"
 
"Not exactly," he said with a rather sheepish smile. "I defeated them-
that's for sure! I took away their powers. They can't make themselves
beautiful and even if they could, they don't have the power to draw
life and seed out of a man like they once could."

"But...?" I pressed.

"Well..." he squirmed a little like he didn't want to answer. "They
had almost faded away like I had planned. They weren't but shadows of
what they once were, but then they found a way to keep themselves
alive. They may even be getting stronger."

He stood and paced a little again, "One of the reasons I came here
tonight was that I was thinkin' that maybe ye could tell the story and
warn people of what might happen."

"What might happen?" I asked.

He stood up and pointed his finger at my monitor. My browser opened
and suddenly I was on the webpage of "Four Sisters: Costumes for All
Occasions." Another flip of his finger and it moved to their Halloween
costumes. There was a naughty nurse in a skimpy white uniform with
red, split crotch panties. A naughty cop was just below her. There
were two stars to the costume that had optional shields to hide the
nipples that stuck through them. The page scrolled slowly down through
costume after costume that revealed more than it hid.

"They were one of the first companies to offer the `naughty'
costumes." he said. "Other companies have copied them, but the
costumes from the Four Sisters are special."

"In what way?"

"The sisters still have enough power when all four of them act
together," he explained, "to put a spell on many of their Halloween
costumes. A girl who would wear something like that is pretty slutty
to begin with, but the costume amplifies it. Any girl who wears a
costume from The Four Sisters Costume Company to a Halloween party is
compelled by the costume itself to duplicate the actions of at least
one of the four sisters... sometimes all four. And when they do, the
sisters receive some of the life force that is released."

He looked up at me and said in a very worried tone of voice, "They are
getting stronger. If Halloween gets any raunchier and their costumes
get even more popular, who knows? They might eventually get their
powers back."

Light was starting to seep in through the curtains. It was morning. He
tapped his pipe against his hand to dislodge the tobacco and put it
away in his pocket. "Well now ye have your story," he said as he put
his hat on his head. He walked across the desk and stood before me and
added, "I'll be looking for it on line." Then he was gone. He didn't
shimmer or fade or disappear in a puff of smoke, he was just gone,
leaving no evidence of his presence other than a tiny pile of ashes
next to my keyboard. 

"That was a weird dream," I said to myself. But then I looked at the
ashes and up at my monitor where The Four Sisters website was still on
the screen. A naughty school teacher leered at me in her skimpy,
almost-not-there skirt and her white business shirt that was open all
the way down to the navel. It was an animated image and she was
slapping a long wooden ruler against the palm of her hand in
preparation for its use.

"Maybe it wasn't a dream?" I said as I continued to study the website.
"Maybe Danny Boy was real and so was his story."

As I continued to scroll through the almost pornographic Halloween
costumes, I realized that I had a very important decision to make.
Should I send out a warning to all of the girls that I knew were
coming to my Halloween party?

Or should I send them gift certificates instead?

 = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = 
END OF STORY
 = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = 

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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