The Haunted House by Ed Miller

Gosh, what can I say about this one....

It has sexy girls, the transformation of the girlfriend into an equally eager nympho, a haunted house, a curse and...and....just damn, it has it all.

Did I mention it was set at my favorite time of the year...Halloween?

And now, Ed Miller's "The Haunted House"!

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As usual, this is a story containing graphic sexual content. If you are not 
legally allowed to view such a story, don't download it, read it, touch it, 
lick it, eat it, burn it, use it for toilet paper, or even stand near it.

Permission is hereby given to archive this story on any site so long as this 
disclaimer is attached, no fee is charged, and I am credited as the author 
(I've actually gotten hate mail for having claimed to write my own stories, 
because other people have made the same claim and some idiot believed them.)

If you do read it, send any comments to: zxcvbnm21@hotmail.com
Or leave feedback if the site you're reading this on allows it. I always 
read it, even if I don't answer much, and I'm always interested to hear 
comments, even if it's just "nice story," or, for that matter "you suck." 
Don't be shy; say what you think. I really do want to hear it.

If you want to know where the rest of my stories are archived, nearly all of 
them are at www.fictionmania.tv.

I should warn you, ladycyrrh (who was a reviewer way back on assm; this 
preface has become rather dated) labeled another of my stories "a fuckfest, 
but more literate than most." That is, of course, exactly what I was aiming 
for: a fuckfest. Literary worth belongs in literature. What you're reading 
now is smut. Be forewarned.

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The Haunted House
By Ed Miller

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Soon by Serenity

Here's a story by a girl who just loves to get a bit dirty!

I call her Serena but everyone else calls her Serenity!

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Some might say that I've been out of the game too long. That I am washed
up. That I lost my edge. They look at the production numbers, point to
their visually pleasing, but all too cliche charts and powerpoints, and
say that my time is over. That new blood is needed. And old Mr. Williams
is not. Do you know what I said? After all the preening, all the bullet
points and buzzwords, all the sneering smiles on the young pack of hyenas
who just got their business degrees from Phoenix University? I calmly
leaned forward, smoothed out my custom tailored italian suit coat, and in
a gruff, low, growling voice, I said. "Fuck you, You're Fired."

As their jaws dropped, I smugly sat back and thought one thing.


Damn. It's good to be the boss.