1. The Ghoul's Wedding


    Date: 12/7/2015, Categories: Dark Fantasy, Cannibalism, Consensual Sex, Death, First Time, Gothic, Horror, Interracial, Monster, Necrophilia, Romance, Wife, Author: BlackRonin, Rating: 75, Source: sexstories.com

    "The gruesome ghoul, the grisly ghoul, without the slightest noise, Waits patiently beside the school, to feast on girls and boys." -"The Ghoul," Jack Prelutsky *** The first time they came for her she was six years old, and it was Valentine's Day, which was also her birthday. Amina stayed up late with a flashlight that night, looking at the Valentines from her classmates and chewing the small, chalky candy hearts the teacher gave out. The cards were flat pink-and-red cartoons that didn't make sense: When she thought of a heart she imagined something meaty and hot, not a shape cut from paper. Cartoon characters and rhymes didn't seem to have much to do with love either. Love, she understood, was something that hurt. She liked the candy, at least. It was approaching midnight when she heard something scratching at the window. She peeked out of the covers, expecting to see a branch moving in the wind or maybe even a stray cat, but instead it was a man. He wore a long black coat and a hat with a wide brim, and his eyes looked like shiny pennies. He tapped the window with his sharp, unkempt nails again. He wanted to be let in. Amina knew not to trust strangers, but when she saw the man in black she got a bright and bubbly feeling, like when you see an old friend for the first time in years, even though she didn't think she'd ever seen this man before. She felt perfectly safe getting up and opening the window. When the man reached in he picked her up, and together they ran off ...
    into the night, she secure in his arms. His coat, she discovered, was not a foul-smelling thing, but instead smelled of savories and spices and things deep in the ground which were not yet rotten. When she was older she would recognize them as funeral scents. It was a cold night and she had only pajamas, but she didn't mind. With the winter wind in her hair she felt free. She was not surprised to discover they were going to the cemetery, with its aged trees and leaning monuments and angel statues with expressions of alien contemplation and the somber, shadowy opulence of the Millionaire's Row tombs up on the hill. She felt safe enough here with the stranger. He lifted her up and set her gently on the wall, and then clamored over it himself and helped her down, soft as a lamb. A single candle glowed on top of a headstone, and beneath it the grave was open and the box taken out. Two dozen people dressed in black gathered here, and they greeted Amina like old friends or beloved relatives. She was happy to see them too. The sight of the open coffin and the smell of grave dirt didn't bother her. Even when she saw what the night people were doing with the body they'd unearthed (her unspeaking protector soon joined them, leaving Amina perched on top of the headstone to watch) it did not seem sick or frightening. She watched with rapt interest. The smell of it was rich and gratifying. It seemed a good thing to do with a body, a natural thing. Bodies are put into the earth to be eaten, ...
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