Trick or treat!

Samantha stood with the kids she was assigned to as they giggled and waited on the porch, hearing footsteps close on the door. Light spilled out, casting away the darkness of the early fall evening, and a woman appeared in a low cut, sleaveless witches top.

"Well hello! Aren't you all the cutest things! Hold on, let me get some candy for you!"

Her voice slurred, ever so slightly, and there was s hint of a wobble in her step. Sam thought the woman might be a little drunk. She tilted her head down, and snuck a peak at long legs in stripped black and white thigh-highs, and a pair of panties that peeked out from what was definitely too short a skirt, that seemed to have some pattern on them. She thought they might be bats. Her innocent peeping turned to embarrassment quickly though, when she saw the woman smiling, looking her dead in the eye, courtesy of a mirror hanging in the entrance way by a coat rack and, presumably, the candy bowl.

The woman stood up, and turned back to the waiting children, who seemed oblivious to the skin she showed, lost in the promise of candy. Bending over, and with her cleavage on full display to the nervous teen, she pinched cheeks and complimented each kid in turn, how scary they were, or how cute, and dropping a handful of candy into each bag. The kids were glowing by the time it was done, while Samantha felt as if she were glowing too. Red. Her eyes had followed the woman's body the whole time, and the witch had looked up from the last child, and made direct eye contact, smirking like a cat with a mouse. Blushing and looking away,

Samantha could think of nothing else to do but hold open her bag. A heard something light drop into it, and felt fingers touch her shoulder. When she looked back up she caught the last twitch of the woman's ass she she closed the door.

The girl quietly walked off the porch, and hurried to catch up with her kids, calling impatiently for her as they moved to the next house. Checking her bag as the group collected their treats from the amused elderly couple, she noticed a folded piece of paper, which she took out, and opened.

"When you're done tonight, come on back if you want your treat."

She glanced over to the house, and watched as a curtain fell back. She was sure she heard a laugh, but couldn't place from where.

It was just after nine o'clock. Sam was checking herself in the bathroom before heading back out. With black hair she kept in something of a pixie cut anyways, she had thought she would make a great catwoman (ok, catgirl) this year. A simply black body suit, tight enough to show off but conservative enough that her mother wasn't worried about her going out in it, with a cute black tail and ears. Simple whisker facepaint finished the outfit. Now that the kids were done for the night and she was free for her own fun, was she really going to do this? What if it was a joke? What if it wasn't and it was dangerous? What if she went as she was and the witch thought she looked too much like a kid? What if she tried to do something more, and was laughed at for trying to hard?

Ultimately, she decided that she shouldn't change how she looked. And she decided she was curious enough that she was going back to the witches house. One of the perks of being a well behaved fourteen year old, the kind that volunteers to take the little ones out in groups, was a trusting mother and no curfew. Grabbing another bag for candy, she told her mother she was going to do some trick or treating of her own for the night, and was going to spend time with some friends maybe. She'd said text ever hour or so so mom wouldn't worry, and then headed out.

She worked her way back to the witch's house, going down a street or two she hadn't been down before, and stopping at a few houses. At five foot two (boosted slightly by the small heel on her boots), and only a hundred pounds or so, she enjoyed the attention she got as a cute catgirl, and knew that she looked young enough to still want to trick or treat. An advantage to her small size. She wondered what some of the people would think if they knew how old she really was. And then she saw a group of people who must have been college aged going to houses across the street, and worried less about it. Halloween was fun for all ages, after all.

By nine thirty she was back there again. Standing on the witch's porch. Her stomac

... more on the forums ...