The McAlistair House
Cassie’s phone vibrated. Without thinking about it, she reached and by the time she finished putting in her pin she realised that she really didn’t want to look at her phone, but then the apps on her screen shone at her with colourful, appealing design, all with unread messages of the utmost importance.
The dopamine-addicted parts of her brain whispered like a devil on her shoulder.
She blinked and looked again at the message her friend sent her.
“The fuck?”
“Come over here, we’re having fun,” The message read in a white, rounded square speech bubble. Right on top of it, was a picture of three girls taking a selfie in front of a mirror. For the minuteness of seconds, Cassie wondered why her friend Maeve would be hanging out with the McAlistair twins; but then her brain registered the whole composition of the shot and the million questions were followed by a guttural feeling of unease and the sort of disgust one would experience at a dick pick when one isn’t in the mood for a dick pic.
Two tall blondes showing their round buttocks at the camera, their faces just barely twisted and looking over their eyes as if transfixed by the way the fencenet stockings crisscrossed their smooth legs. And right between the two round butts, was Cassie’s friend, dressed in the same type of stockings, red in the face, and with a naughty twinkle in her eye.
“What the fuck?” Cassie typed.
Maeve replied rather quickly, as if she had been waiting for the message.
“Come on, Cassie. It’ll be fun. We’re just down the road. The twins want to meet you,” The message came. And then the three dots of future words, but instead the icon of a microphone appeared.
Cassie frowned, put her phone face down.
The McAlistair house. If there was a place she never expected young girls to found, was that house. Old Man McAlistair was a known... weirdo. No direct evidence, but the police had been to his house enough times that his presence in local shops made people hush. No one knew why the police went there with such frequency, but the neighbourhood suspected it had to do with his constant patronage of the “gentlemen’s clubs” around town. Everyone knew that the only reason he was let into those establishments anymore, was because he could pay the extra fees they slapped on the old man. People will speak ill of people, of course, and Cassie didn’t really pay much mind to those rumours. There were other, more interesting rumours she liked to entertain: like those that stemmed from the fact that the McAlistair house was the oldest in the area, and that it would not be out of place in American Horror Story, or Halloween Town. There were rituals performed there, of course, and Old Man McAlistair had the right quality of recluse, unapologetic sexist, and not-overtly rich that made her wonder if he didn’t run some coven under the faux-gothic facade.
And then there were the twins. Too good-looking to be Old Man McAlistair’s relatives. Which only added to the rumours about the man and probably explained why the police and social services had knocked on his door one too many times. They were related, somehow, and if not by looks by their crass attitude to everyone else that wasn’t them. The McAlistair twins were being nicely stroked with nettles.
Then, how come Maeve was there? Nevermind the slutty outfit, that could be anything, but her friend hanging out with the Terrible Twins?
Cassie felt as if her gut was full of vinegar.
“How could you?” Cassie whispered. Maeve had been there when those two bitches had not only “accidentally” spilled a can of coke on her lap, but had brought her parentage into doubt; bitches, and racist on top.
Chest tight, Cassie picked up her phone intent on ringing her friend. But the message was there, and her brain wanted the dopamine. Out of habit, she pressed play and listened.
“Hey, girlfriend,” Maeve’s voice came through, then giggled, other voices were in the background, and some electric buzzing. “Oh, stop that, you naughty girl. Oh, Cassie, come on, girlfriend. The twins have the most amazing collection of cute outfits, and, like, this house is sooo nice. You should totally come and be a good girlfriend and spend some time with me.” A pause, wet mouth sounds. And the buzzing. “Like, come to the McAlistair house so you can be a good girlfriend and have some fun with—”
Cassie sat with the phone pressed to her ear for a full minute after the message cut off.
The vinegar had been washed away, but her chest still felt tight, and her hands empty for lack of a neck to strangle.
She looked at her phone, and a new message had appeared.
“Oh, fuck that,” Cassie said, meaning to throw her phone on the opposite end of the sofa. Instead, she pressed play and brought the phone back to her ear.
The buzzing came on, and the giggles, and wet sounds out of RedTube, and the buzzing, and, then, finally came Maeve’s voice. “You don’t have to bring anything, girlfriend. Just yourself,” Then another voice, one of the twin’s “Your cute, hot self,” Buzzing, shuffling. “Oh, you heard her, girlfriend. Come and bring your cute, hot self and we can try all the goodies and funnies the McAlistair House has to offer, girlfriend. You are my friend, right, Cassie?”
“I am your friend, yes,” Cassie told the recording. The buzzing kept going, then stopped, then the phone pinged, and Cassie pressed play on the next message.
The house was impressive in that it could eat five other houses and still have room for desert and an aperitif. But whoever had designed it, wasn’t content to have the most impressive structure in ten kilometres, no, they had to go on and add sharp edges and spikes as if at any point an army of organized pigeons would try to lay siege to the place,
Cassie stood in the cobblestone pathway, the cold seeping into her bare feet. The soft glow of orange light poured out from the windows.
She paused at the steps leading to the front porch, looking down at her toes as if a jellyfish had suddenly swapped bodies with her and didn’t know what to make of these appendages. Then Cassie moved her feet, and her brain got flooded with dopamine when she knocked on the door. She was being a good friend.
A gruff voice called from inside, and after a couple of breaths that made Cassie feel as if she should be bolting to the nearest police station but couldn’t, the heavy pine door creaked open in all its horror movie glory.
The Old in Old Man was a neighbourhood bogeyman exaggeration. But Unkept Man McAlistair didn’t have the same ring to it. Yet, tall and gangly, wearing a shirt and trousers combo that fitted his long limbs as if he had been born into those sleeves, he wasn’t such an eyesore. His beard, however, participated in the illegal housing market for bird’s nests.
“Oh, you must be Maeve’s girlfriend,” His voice sounded like he was speaking through a very tiny hole dug in between to coal mine tunnels. “The girls are waiting for you upstairs,” He said that with the resignation of a trench soldier. He didn’t move until after he sighed heavily, a deflating sound. “You new here?” He said.
Cassie just nodded. “I am Maeve’s.” She said as the tall man let her into a foyer with decorations that had once ran through the woods nearby.
“Of course you are,” He said. “Do want something to drink or...” He looked over his shoulder at Cassie and let his hospitality die on a frontal assault against a castle. “I see—they’ve got you already.
“Up here, child.” He turned and went up a flight of stairs, left at the display of old medals and strangely-shaped rocks, and down a long, dark hallway with something glowing ominously at the very end.
“How long you known the girls?” McAlistair asked.
“Maeve is my friend. I hate the twins,” Cassie said in that faraway voice.
A low rumble of a sigh echoed in the man’s chest, in pure agreement. For someone looking like the leftovers from a spider’s meal, he had a powerful voice box. “Figures,” He wasn’t happy.
When they reached the source of the glow, McAlistair stopped. It was a small circular room, with a statue of some goat creature on top of many other goat creatures, all merging into a Clive Barker-style horror of amalgamated flesh cast in bronze. Nothing but the statue glowed, and the statue glowed out of its own existence.
“Damn those girls,” McAlistair said. “Child, stand in front of this.”
Cassie did so, but managed to say, “Why?”
“Because even the worst of sinners can tell what’s fair and what isn’t. Now, put your right hand on the big goat head, and look into its eyes.”
Cassie moved her hand very slowly. The glow of the statue reddened as she put her hand on the bronze.
“Good. Now, open your mou—okay, you’re already doing that.” McAlistair then touched the palm of his hand to one of the goat horns, drawing blood. The blood drops moved down the horn, spiralling over the statue’s surface and then suddenly disappearing. The goat eyes glowed red, the room glowed red, and the snout started bleeding.
Cassie sighed long and hard, every atom of air leaving her lungs as if pulled by a force unknown. McAlistair grabbed her other hand, touched one finger to the blood on the snout, and put her finger in her mouth.
Cassie breathed in slowly as she suckled on the metal tang on her finger.
“There, that’ll help,” He said, and the glow in the alcove returned to its normal teal-green colour.
“Now, up the stairs, missy,” McAlistair said, and Cassie followed up the claustrophobic stairs.
They walked in silence, up into a big, empty room that could’ve been a library or a dining space, through big doors, and down a hallway through the length of the house. They passed another flight of stairs, coming from the bottom floors, and then they got to a door with ornate designs of some scientific stripe.
“There you go girl, just knock on the door and the twins will sort you out,” McAlistair said.
“Thank you,” Cassie said, her placid eyes barely meeting McAlistair’s stare.
The tall man rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah... maybe. Probably not,” He opened one eye, and held Cassie’s stare. The girl stiffened. “You’ll be okay,” He winked, and then turned down the hallway.
Cassie knocked.
The door opened to the smell of a sexy party, candles and techno pop that immediately jolted Cassie into a sense of outrage.
“What the hell, Maeve!”
Maeve ignored Cassie’s outburst, and wrapped her arms around her friend.
Cassie stiffened, feeling the sweaty warmth of her friend’s boobs pressing against her. “Oh, Cassie, you’re such a wonderful girlfriend for coming here after we told you to.”
Cassie felt a whisper of electricity go down from her ears to the bottom of her pelvis at the word girlfriend. Her shoulders relaxed.
The warm air that touched her bare arms and legs felt like something was wrapping around her, pulling her into the room.
“Yeah, Cassie,” Someone called. “You are such a good girlfriend for doing what you were told.”
Again, that feeling, like someone was sliding a feather from her nape, down her spine, around under between her legs, and nestling right on her lady parts.
Maeve giggled, which made her boobs jiggle, and then pulled Cassie into the room.
As the door closed, the scents and heat in the room overwhelmed Cassie. She felt woozy suddenly. Sweat beads quickly appeared on her skin.
“Hi, Cassie,” The twins said in unison. One of the twins was laying back on a mountain of pillows, her legs open wide, with her twin sitting between her legs. The former wore lacy gloves with patterns that Cassie would’ve recognized, if she had been able to pay attention to the house. She was nuzzling her sister’s neck, kissing and biting, while her hand seemed to be drawing ancient hand gestures on top of the latter’s pussy. They were both wearing those fencenet stockings, chokers.
“Uh... hi?” Cassie said, frowning.
The twins looked at each other, and giggled.
“Oh, Maeve help your girlfriend get comfortable, will you?” The ungloved twin commanded—Meridian, the name came to Cassie, even as the feeling of electricity again nestled between on her pussy, growing warmer, warmer until it suddenly faded and with it any questions the girl would’ve had.
“Oh, like, of course,” Maeve said. She stood in front of Cassie and started to undo Cassie’s jean shorts.
“Wait... no, what are you doing?”
“Helping you out of your clothes, silly.”
Cassie frowned, swatting her friend away.
“No... Maeve. I came here to…”
“To be a good girlfriend. To be my good girlfriend,” Maeve said. And suddenly, Cassie wasn’t sure. She simply parted her lips to let the moan escape.
“You are a good friend, right?”
“I am a good friend,” Cassie repeated.
“And a good friend does what she is told, so she can please her girlfriend.”
“Yes, of course.”
“Good, now, let me undress you.”
“Okay.”
It was then that Cassie noticed something that had been bothering her in the back of her mind. Maeve was a brunette, and she only bothered with bras to hide her nipples, because otherwise she didn’t need them. Then, how come the woman in front of her spoke like Maeve, had Maeve’s facial features, but dressed like the twins, had the same blonde, curly hair, and the same globular tits?
Naked, the air touched her whole body with the same electric feeling the word girlfriend had all over her body. The sweat forming on her skin wasn’t entirely because of the warmth without, but from the heat within.
“Oh, she’s absolutely delicious, Maeve,” The other twin—Grenda—said. She pushed her sister off her and jumped to her feet. She clapped her gloved hands together and giggled happily.
Meridian giggled, and lay face down on the bed, propping her head on her hands. “Good call letting our girlfriend decide who will join our relationship, Grenda.
“Of course. I am full of good ideas.” The gloved twin said, standing in front of Cassie.
She ran a hand over Cassie’s globes, feeling their weight and firmness. She then grabbed some of Cassie’s belly folds and giggled. “We have so much to work with here, sister.”
“I know!” Meridian said, giggling madly. One of her hands disappeared under her hips.
“I am glad you approve,” Maeve added.
Grenda turned to Maeve, and stroked her face. “You are a good girlfriend,” Grenda said, and Maeve suddenly buckled at the knees, her eyes rolling back. Grenda quickly wrapped around the woman, holding her in place, whispering comforting words into her ear, until the rocking orgasm subsided.
“Oh. My. Deities!” Meridian said from the bed. She had rolled onto her back, closed her eyes, and was breathing in long and deep, one hand playing with her pussy. “Oh, did you feel that, Grenda? That orgasm just... just so delicious. Fuck! Fuck!”
Meridian moaned loudly, her legs suddenly pressing her hand in place. She arched her back, throwing her head off the mattress, boobs being gripped by gravity. Her skin seemed to glow for a moment and then a sheen of sweat.
Cassie witnessed this in a state of stupor. The moment her friend orgasmed she felt it; the whole room filling with electricity, as if the air was conductive to sexual pleasure. She felt it on her skin and felt herself growing warmer at the spectacle.
Grenda let go of Maeve, kissing her lovingly on the lips. “You okay, puppet?”
Maeve mumbled something.
“Good girl. That little display has given us the charge we needed. You have done really well.”
“Really well indeed!” Meridian said from the bed. She rolled and propped herself up on her knees.
Grenda guided Maeve to the bed, where Meridian reached out and then wrapped herself around the placid girl like a loving pet owner.
“And now, Cassie. Are you a good friend?”
Cassie shivered. One hand found her pussy. She was wet. “I am a good friend.”
“Do you want to be a good girlfriend for Maeve?”
Cassie nodded, idly moving her fingers.
“Good, because we’re going to make you into a good girlfriend, all hers, all the time, and in exchange we just want a little of.... well....”
“We just want your soul,” Meridian giggled before going back to nuzzling her pet.
“Oh, you can be so uncouth, sister. But, yes, Cassie. You’ll be the perfect girlfriend for us.”
“Perfect girlfriend,” Cassie moaned, energetically rubbing herself off.
“You’re ready,” Grenda said.
Grenda began whispering words and sounds that a human mouth shouldn’t be able to produce. Her gloves came alive with a light that sucked in all brightness. The air crackled with energy, and Cassie started masturbating faster and faster.
“Thing is, Cassie, you don’t look like the perfect girlfriend.”
“Yet!” Meridian cried.
“Perfect girlfriend,” Cassie moaned.
“So we have to correct that.”
The gloved hands wrapped around Cassie’s neck, and then their lips met. Cassie felt her legs turn to jelly, her mind blanking of anything.
“You’ll be a perfect girlfriend,” Grenda cooed, staring right into Cassie’s eyes.
Cassie nodded.
Grenda shifted. One hand found Cassie’s sleek, wet, pussy; fingers slipping in easily. Cassie tried to wiggle, but the other hand held her fast.
“You are going to be our perfect girlfriend,” Grenda said.
A pulse of energy spread from Cassie’s pussy. And another. And another. Every time Grenda repeated the phrase, the energy travelled the whole of Cassie’s body, shifting things loose, and changing her. Body mass moved around, shifting, smoothing out. Her hair bleaching out of colour.
“You’ll be our perfect girlfriend,” Grenda moaned. She was rubbing her own crotch on Cassie’s thigh.
“Yes!” Cassie moaned, lost in the eyes of her new girlfriend. She felt her breasts expand, fill up, heavy, perfect, just like her girlfriends. Felt her whole body shift, her reality with it, becoming just like the twins. Just like they liked it. She would be a good girlfriend.
“What are you, Cassie!?” Grenda moaned.
“Yes, little Cassie, what are you now?” Meridian moaned from the bed.
“I am... I am... oh, fuck... fuck! I am cumming!”
“Yes. Yes. Cum and be born anew. Cum and be ours. Be our girlfriend. Only our girlfriend, only ours, only ours!”
The energy of the room crackled audibly. Cassie came, and the lights dimmed and then went dark.
Whatever energy had filled the room was spent.
In the shadows, three girlfriends caught their breaths.
After a while, Meridian snapped her fingers and the lights came on.
Where the chubby, brown-haired Cassie once stood, now another McAlistair twin stood. Not identical to Grenda or Meridian or even Maeve, but the four of them could be mistaken for a very, very close relatives.
“Oh, look at her, Maeve. Look at your new girlfriend!” Meridian giggled.
“Oh... she is.... perfect!” Maeve giggled.
“Of course she is. She is our perfect girlfriend!” Grenda giggled, kissing Cassie on the cheek.
Cassie touched her cheek. Her boobs jiggled, and she stepped back to find her balance. She giggled again. “I am, like, your perfect girlfriend.” She giggled again, a sound just like Meridian’s.
“Oh, we’ll have so much fun to-night!”
“No you won’t!” A voice filled the room suddenly. Booming, gravelly, and echoing into an imaginary distance.
“What!?” The twins exclaimed. “Uncle! You cannot tell us what to do. You have no power to make us do anything!”
The door suddenly opened. The light pouring into the hallway obscured McAlistair. “True. But twilight is here.”
The twins looked at McAlistair for a moment, then sighed. “And the sun washed away the cover of the night.” The three McAlistairs chanted in unison.
Suddenly, any energy still left in the air disappeared.
“Awww...” Meridian said.
“Crap,” Grenda cursed.
“Now, let the girl go home.”
Grenda turned her eyes at McAlistair. They were glowing angrily. “No, no, no! You cannot tell us—“
McAlistair put his hands up. “I am not. Just offering you the one power I have above yours: experience from age. Trust me, girls. As much juice as you two got, you don’t want to do anything without the cover of the night.”
The twins looked at each other.
“Oh, we’ll continue tomorrow, Grenda,” Meridian said, petting Maeve. “Let the old man take care of our new girlfriend.”
Grenda didn’t say anything, just turned around and waved her hand at McAlistair.
The gangly man extended an arm at Cassie and curled a finger towards him. The recently transformed girl started walking.
“Oh, and Uncle?” Meridian giggled.
McAlistair stiffened halfway from closing the door.
“Yes?”
“We won’t forget this insult.”
The man held the door open a moment. “I know.”
Outside, everything was cast in blue-grey tones.
Cassie wrapped the hoodie McAlistair had offered tighter around herself. As she stepped down the stoop, she felt her body wobble in unfamiliar ways and started tilting forward. But strong hands held her still.
“You okay?” McAlistair said, holding her steady.
“I... I don’t...know” Cassie mumbled, looking down at her body.
“Hey,” McAlistair stooped to meet Cassie in the eyes.
That’s when Cassie noticed it. It would’ve been something to gawk at but after tonight and the state she was in, it was like looking at paint on the wall.
McAlllister’s beard wasn’t white anymore, or unkept. And his features were filled up, even his voice, now that she thought about it, didn’t sound so far away.
“How?” Cassie mumbled.
McAlistair looked at the house behind him, then started helping Cassie to down the steps and down the path.
“Maybe I’ll tell you one day. ’Tis fair, after how you helped me.”
Cassie blinked. “H-helped you?”
As they reached the fence, McAlistair put a hand on Cassie’s shoulder. It was cold and warm and then cold again and suddenly Cassie could think properly.
“Wait... What the... they did something to... and you... the blood—”
“Shhhh...” McAlistair said. “Not where they can hear. Let it be our secret, from one with too many sins to one who got dragged into this.”
“But—”
“Shhh...” He put a finger on his lips. Cassie couldn’t find her voice. “Child, you got dragged into my niece’s sadistic, parasitic games. They own you. By the end of the day, you’ll be thinking about them all the time, like some tween with her first boy band. So, I thought, that you might not want to end up like your friend and the other girls, so I went off and warded you a little.”
Cassie frowned, looking at the man whose face had looked like dried leather just a couple of hours ago. McAlistair waved his hand, and Cassie’s voice returned. “And you... got something out of it?”
The man shrugged. “You’re a clever lass. Thank me for helping you keep that, at least during the day. Those two? They are going to use you. Me? I’ll use you, child. We’re a family of sinners, of the worst kind.”
Cassie looked at the man in the well-tailored clothes. She felt a shiver down her spine.
“So... I’ll be seeing you tonight?”
“Of course,” McAlistair said, turning around. “But I am not your saviour; just another devil.”