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Halloween At The Old Hospital – An ENF Short Story

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This is one of the stories that I wrote for a new ENF short story collection to follow up Naked Women in Shorts, but since it’s not going to make it into the final book I thought I’d publish it in my Exclusive Stories section. It could do with a continuation or a follow-up, I think, but inspiration didn’t strike.

I hope you like it anyway,

Kara

Halloween At The Old Hospital

“So… this used to be a hospital,” Lily asked Daniela.

“Yup,” replied Daniela, “Why do you think I’m wearing this outfit?”

Daniela struck a pose for Lily, showing off her nurse’s outfit. Although, of course, the “nurse’s outfit” wasn’t one you’d see in any genuine hospital. It was strapless, showing off Daniela’s delicate, smooth shoulders; it was very short, showing off her long, slim legs; and it had a large, prominent zip all the way down the front, undone by just a couple of inches to reveal an inviting cleavage. She wore white stilettos and white stockings that came nowhere near as high as the bottom of the dress.

“I assumed you were just dressed as a tart,” Lily teased her, “Like usual”. Daniela poked her tongue out.

“Well, at least some of us have some imagination,” Daniela teased back.

Lily had come dressed as a witch. But, like Daniela, she was no traditional witch. She had a short black, figure-hugging dress with a low neckline, sheer black tights and tall, black heels. About the only clue she was a witch was the large pointy hat on her head. It would be a cliché, but true, to say that she already had many men bewitched that evening.

“And coming to a party in an old hospital dressed as a nurse is original?” Lily replied, “Did you know, apparently this was a Victorian mental hospital, and I’m really not sure whether you’re supposed to be dressed as a member of staff or a patient.”

Daniela smiled at her friend’s joke.

“Hey, girls!” they heard a voice behind them. It was Becky, who had been busy leading men astray dressed as Catwoman in a black one-piece catsuit with a zip down the front, complete with mask, cat ears and a whip.

“Have you seen the bed they’ve got here?” Becky continued, “Apparently we can have a go on it.”

The old hospital was a tourist attraction by day, and some of the more robust installations had been left out to enhance the atmosphere of the party. And at thirty pounds a ticket, not including drinks, you’d expect there to be at least a little theme to the place.

“Trust you to want a go on a bed!” Lily teased her.

“Not like that!” Becky protested, “C’mon. Let’s get some photos.”

She led them through the crowd, all eyes following the three attractive women as they traversed the room and disappeared through a doorway. They entered a semi-lit room with a large hospital bed in the centre, complete with wrist and leg straps.

You can read all of Halloween At The Old Hospital. As with all the Exclusive Stories, you’ll need your password to access the story, and if you don’t have one then fill out the form below with your e-mail address and either a real name or an alias you’d like me to use:

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Interview With An Artist

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I was already at the cafe when Mia arrived. I had seen photos of her, but still I wasn’t prepared for the impact she makes when she enters a room. With her thick, black bob cut hair against the pale, white of her skin, her slender figure, shocking red lipstick and bright red shoes, and the ostentatious faux fur coat, she was certainly attractive enough to command attention.

But there was something else about her: the dance of her eyes and the way she looked around the room, the way she instantly assessed everyone and everything in it. It made you want to know what was going on inside her head and, thankfully, that was what I was here for.

“Mia,” I said, “Pleased to meet you. I’m Rosie.”

I held out a hand and Mia took it gently. It was barely a handshake and I was petrified I would damage her slender fingers if I gripped them too tightly. I gestured for Mia to take the high stool beside me. I didn’t want the table to act as a barrier between us. She took another look around the room, as if she were worried about something, and then slid onto the seat.

“Thank you for agreeing to this interview, Mia. I know that your relationship with journalists hasn’t always been a good one.”

Mia gave a half smile, but said nothing. I continued.

“And I’m sure many of my readers will already know your name and some of your work but I’d really like to hear you describe it in your own words.”

Mia pursed her full, red lips and then spoke deliberately and with a rehearsed answer.

“I create art that challenges how people think about the human body,” she said. Her eyes remained fixed on mine.

“And, specifically, through nudity?” I had to prompt her to say more.

“It would be fashion design otherwise,” she replied scornfully, but I knew why she was being defensive: she had gotten mostly tabloid press coverage that belittled what she was doing at the expense of sensationalism and the license to print semi-nude photos with “censored” banners plastered over them.

“One cannot appreciate music without hearing it; and likewise one cannot understand performance visual art without seeing it,” she continued.

I smiled and nodded. I wanted her to believe I was on her side, which I genuinely was.

“You’ve taken your art all around the world, or at least those countries that are… open minded enough to welcome it. But you’ve chosen to make here in Madrid your home. Tell me a bit about how that came about?”

For a moment it looked as though Mia’s defences had dropped a little. I was right not just to go for the easy angle and to find out more about her first. I worried that the spell might be broken as the waiter interrupted us and Mia ordered a coffee, but she settled back into her stool and seemed relaxed.

“Artists like me are, I think, naturally nomadic, and we find our homes wherever we produce our best work. Growing up in Finland, we had quite a comfortable existence, but for me there was less of a challenge.” She looked around the café again. “Here in Spain, I am able to reach much of Europe easily, and the culture and climate suit me. And, there are more days each year where we can take photographs. In Finland it’s either always light or always dark.” She smiled.

“And do you think it’s your Finish upbringing that made you personally so comfortable with nudity?”

Mia visibly bristled at my turning to the subject so quickly. “There are over five million people in Finland. I don’t believe all of them have become performance artists,” she replied brusquely.

Her eyes seemed to bore into me and I had to look down at my coffee. “Plus, as you say, the climate’s better here. I mean, for what you do,” I continued without meeting her challenge. I glanced up and thought I caught the beginnings of a smile on her lips.

“Spain is a very tolerant society too and with a great artistic history,” she replied, “But who knows whether I will be here in one year, five years, ten years… But for now, I am here.”

Her replies weren’t going to give me much to work with so I looked down at my notepad of pre-prepared questions.

“And how do you find the people here react to your work?” I asked her.

She shrugged. “That is the point of my work: to explore this. It is better to learn this from my work than to ask me for an answer. If I had an answer, I would stop the work.”

So that was another dead end. I decided to go back to try to build a relationship again, and to think more carefully about the questions I asked.

“Do you think… Do you mind if we ordered some tapas?” I asked Mia.

Her shoulders shrugged beneath the thick coat. “Why not,” she said, “This café has a good selection.”

She looked around the room with her strange manner again. She was like a bird, watchful for predators perhaps, and her eyes seemed to rest on each other customer for a fraction of a second before dismissing them as a threat.

I turned around in my stool to look for a waiter and put my hand in the air to attract his attention. I had lost some of my English reserve during my time as a journalist, but, as was to become apparent, not as much as I thought.

I must have been looking away from Mia for no more than two or three seconds but by the time I turned back the fur coat was gone and I was suddenly in the presence of Mia the performance artist. Or, more precisely, Mia the naked performance artist.

I wasn’t sure what the etiquette was, so I said nothing. I was incapable of saying anything as she sat there, seemingly oblivious to her nudity, not even paying attention to how I reacted.

I had seen plenty of photos and videos during my research for this interview but, in the flesh, it was obvious what a truly beautiful woman Mia was. Her skin was a delightful soft cream colour and appeared flawless, although I was trying hard not to stare. There was barely an inch of fat on her and, as she sat with her legs crossed, I wondered if I was just imagining the whole thing.

Naked Women in Shorts by Kara Bryn

Read the rest of Interview With An Artist, plus eleven other stories of beautiful naked women, in Naked Women in Shorts

Paint The Town

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“What if you could walk around naked, but no-one would know? I wished I’d discovered body paint earlier, although I had to be careful with how close I let people get.”

The Lady And Camilla – Chapter 5

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Chapter five of The Lady and Camilla is up on Literotica.

I turned my back to her and held my hair out of the way, making it as obvious as I could that I wanted her to unzip me. I couldn’t see the look on her face but there was no pause as she obliged.

“Oh, that’s so much better,” I said as I wriggled out of the tight dress. Even with my back turned I could feel both pairs of eyes on me as I stood there in my black lace underwear and stockings.

“This too?” Victoria asked, and without waiting I felt her fingers pull at the clasp of my bra and unhook it. I smiled while they couldn’t see my face: she was playing along better than I could have hoped.

“Thank you,” I said as I shrugged my bra down my arms and let it drop casually to the floor and turned to face them. “Under-wiring and large meals never mix.”

I could have been saying anything: they were both staring at my breasts as if in a trance. I didn’t have to contain my satisfied smile as no-one was looking at my face.

“Here,” I said, and with gentle but firm hands I turned Victoria around by the shoulders. I felt her tense as I slid the zip of her dress down, but she did nothing to stop me. I pushed the sleeves off of her shoulders and helped slide the tight fabric down her body. It dropped around her ankles but she merely stepped out of it. Neither of us made a move to pick up any of the clothes that were scattered around the hallway.

You can read chapter 5 on Literotica, and, if you missed it (or want to start again), chapter one is here.

The Overstay

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Tania grinned. “Yeah, but I’m still not lending you any of my clothes. I’ll go and get the wash basket, and you get your kit off.”

Louisa shook her fist at Tania. “There’s always something with you. Well, if you think I’m stripping off in your kitchen, you’ve got another think coming.”

Tania put her arm around Louisa, leant over and bit gently on her ear lobe. Louisa’s eyes rolled in their sockets; that always did it for her.

“I’ll make it worth your while,” Tania whispered.

With that, she skipped out of the room. Louisa thought for a moment. Maybe it would be fun, for an hour while the washing machine ran, to sit around nude with Tania. It wasn’t like Tania didn’t see her naked for half the weekends they spent together anyway.

Before she changed her mind, and not wanting to be halfway through undressing when Tania returned, she pulled her top over her head and dropped it onto a chair. She unfastened her bra and put it on her top, then pulled off her socks, unbuttoned her skirt and slid her knickers down before picking up the lot and piling them together on top of the washing machine.

When Tania came back into the room with a basket of clothes under one arm Louisa was sitting naked at the kitchen table, pretending to study the crossword on the back of the newspaper. Her heart was beating hard in her chest and her breathing was short and rapid as she pretended to concentrate.

“See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Tania teased Louisa, who ignored her.

Tania looked admiringly at Louisa’s slender legs, crossed at the knee, and the delicate, pointed foot at the end of it. She crouched down and opened the washing machine door and threw in her clothes and Louisa’s before selecting the coolest wash setting and starting the cycle.

“So, it looks like you’re naked for the next couple of hours, huh?” Tania continued to tease, and Louisa continued to ignore her.

Tania stood behind Louisa, who was still pretending she was solving the crossword puzzle. She brushed Louisa’s blonde hair away from her neck and then ran her hand around her shoulder and back again, then across her perfect, soft breast onto an equally perfect, hard nipple. She felt Louisa’s breath shudder as she cupped her breast. She leant down to Louisa’s ear. Louisa was still facing her crossword puzzle, but her eyes were closed. Tania blew lightly in her ear and whispered. “What shall we do now, then?

Louisa simply sighed in response and Tania ran her other hand across her girlfriend’s bare shoulder and down to gently stroke her other breast. Louisa’s head rocked back and Tania kissed her neck. She moved her right hand down, sliding it between Louisa’s legs, until she felt wonderful soft, moist yielding flesh which she began to rub gently. It had only taken a few seconds and Louisa was starting to pant, but Tania didn’t want this to be over so quickly.

They were interrupted by the sound of ringing and Tania’s phone buzzed and vibrated across the table. “Rebecca” read the name, and Tania decided it was worth answering, as much to tease Louisa as anything. She heard Louisa exhaled deeply as she took her hands away.

Read the rest of the story, and much more, in Naked Women in Shorts, available for the Kindle.

The Lady And Camilla – Chapter 4

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Chapter four of The Lady and Camilla is up on Literotica. Following the late-night cocktail demonstration from Camilla in chapter three, the next morning sees Her Ladyship regretting the way she neglected her husband on the previous night and enlists Camilla’s help in rectifying the situation on his birthday.

I had expected her to turn her back, or even to leave the room, but she unfastened one button at a time in silence. A thought suddenly dawned on me that this was theatre for my benefit, to show me that she wasn’t embarrassed by her body, as she had seemed every time the issue had come up before. She looked up and saw me following her fingers and I caught a flash in her eye that might have meant something else: was she wondering if I would like what I saw?

With this new realisation I took up my new role in the performance and took a step back to sit in an armchair a few feet across the room. I crossed my legs and sat to watch the slow striptease unfold in front of me.

You can read chapter 4 on Literotica, and, if you missed it (or want to start again), chapter one is here.

The Boy Band – An ENF Story Teaser

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The two girls stepped through the doors into a large, wood-panelled room containing around forty to fifty people. Sherine felt her legs shaking with fear, fear which grew as heads turned towards them, looked them up and down and smiled.

“Go! Do your job!” the waiter commanded from beside them. Brandy felt a hand in the small of her back that pushed her into the room. “And smile!” the waiter hissed loudly after them.

With fake smiles fixed on their faces, the two young, naked women walked into the crowd.

“I’m going to kill Teri and Nicole next time I see them,” Brandy said to Sherine out of the side of her mouth.

“Yeah. They totally knew what was going to happen and didn’t say anything. No wonder they didn’t want to do it!”

As they walked slowly around the room the guests took glasses and canapés from them. Everyone was wearing designer outfits, either smart casual or sophisticated evening wear, and it was obvious there was a lot of money in the room.

“Do you reckon rich peoples parties are always like this, Brandy?” Sherine asked her friend. “Maybe they all have naked waitresses and we’ve never found out about it before?”

Read the rest of the story, and much more, in Naked Women in Shorts, available for the Kindle.

Betting On The Match

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There’s a new story in the Exclusive Content section. It’s called “Betting On The Match“. It’s inspired by all the football I’ve been made to watch recently!

Then the Italian midfield broke through. A twisting run split the German defence and a reverse pass was slotted through and cleanly converted. The bar went wild with people jumping, including me, until I realised that I should really not be letting this short dress bounce up and down when I’m wearing nothing underneath.

Angelika looked sick, despite the fact that Germany were still winning by three goals to two.

“Ten more minutes for another goal,” I teased, “And, erm, aren’t you forgetting something?” I stared at her dress with a raised eyebrow.

You’ll need your password to read the story, and if you don’t have one you can get one by filling out the form on the same page.

Read “Betting On The Match” here.