The Legend Of Sleepy Butthole - (Classic Tingler Revisited)

greetings buckaroos it is a big dang day in the tingleverse because chuck can finally announce i have signed BIG TIMER MULTI BOOK DEAL for HORROR NOVELS. this is a real treat i am so excited to let you buckaroos know that i will be working with NIGHTFIRE which is division of TOR which is division of big four publisher name of MACMILLAN wow. so suffice to say chucks horror novel CAMP DAMASCUS will probably be in bookstore near you buckaroo. 

here is video of chuck at announcement.

chucks horror novels take place in separate layer of the tingleverse than romance but still connected in some ways, especially when tackling issues of LGBTQ buckaroos and fighting to prove that love is real. cant wait to share this trot with my buds.

AND OF COURSE i will still be putting out regular tinglers on the tingleverse layers we already know and love. to celebrate HORROR NOVEL DEAL SIGNING i thought i would post a favorite classic spooky tingler name of THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY BUTTHOLE which is much less scary than upcoming horror books but much more erotic please enjoy

Vickibod Crame is new to the town of Sleepy Butthole, a recently hired schoolteacher who’s looking forward to calling this beautiful hamlet home. Unfortunately, she quickly discovers the townsfolk here are not as kind as she’s hoped. In fact, they’re downright rude.

Now Vickibod is headed out to the old bridge on the night of a full moon, searching for the legendary headless buttwoman. It’s said this buttwoman once tried to turn Sleepy Butthole into a joyful place through voracious ass eating, but failed.

Now Vickibod Crame is helping the headless buttwoman try again.

This erotic tale is 4,100 words of sizzling human on lesbian living pumpkin action and hardcore headless buttwoman love.

(Originally released June 15th,2020)

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THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY BUTTHOLE

By Chuck Tingle

As the sun shines down through the trees above, casting the dirt road in beautiful pattern of light, I have a hard time understanding where all of the dread and anxiety comes from when discussing this place. The town of Sleepy Butthole, where I’ve recently chosen to relocate, is notorious across New England, a place only spoken about in hushed voices by the light of the fire. There are all kinds of stories about these woods and the frightening creatures that lurk within - ghosts, goblins and ghouls – but all I can see now are singing birds and a family of rabbits who scurry across the trail.

I take in a deep breath and let it out, clutching my books tightly as I walk. I haven’t packed much for the big move, just the clothes on my back and the literature in my arms. As the town’s new schoolteacher, that’s all I’ll need to get started.

Besides, although Sleepy Butthole is located in the middle of the deep woods, miles away from any other town, they’re still privy to all the fine wares that one can find along the main road. There’ll be plenty of time to shop for some new clothes after I set up my classroom and pick up my first payment.

Fortunately, that’s where I’m heading right now.

I crest over a small hill and suddenly find the thick forest opening up before me, revealing the glorious sight of a quaint village below. It’s early afternoon and the town is buzzing with locals, wagons moving this way and that as the citizens of Sleepy Butthole go about their business.

A smile makes its way across my face, experiencing an instant connection to my new surroundings. I get the feeling this place is going to be a very important part of my life, and this adventure is just beginning.

On the trail behind me, I suddenly notice the soft crunch of approaching wagon wheels as they dance across my ears. I turn to see that a man in a horse drawn cart is headed my way, my first interaction with an actual citizen of this beautiful little hamlet.

“Hello!” I cry out, offering an excited wave. “I’m the new teacher in town, and I was wondering if you’d be so kind as to point me towards the schoolhouse?”

“Fuck off!” the man yells, so forcefully that at first I laugh because I’m certain he must be joking. “Get out of the way!” he continues.

It’s only a few moments later that I realize he’s not slowing down, and is likely quite serious in his aggression. With seconds to spare, I jump out of the way, just barely avoiding getting run over as the man passes angrily, shaking his fist in my direction.

I take a moment to collect my senses, pulling in a deep breath and letting it out. I suppose even the most beautiful little towns will have a bad apple here and there. I’m not interested in letting it ruin my day.

Determined to find the schoolhouse myself, I eventually begin to stroll down the other side of the hill, headed into town. The forest briefly gives way to farmland, and then eventually transforms into a small collection of shops and cottages.

I try my hand at asking for directions once more, but the results come back to me in a similar fashion. Finally, after what seems like forever, I manage to grab someone’s attention long enough for them to begrudgingly point off down a road to my right.

I follow these vague directions, and soon enough I can see the schoolhouse

coming into view.

A wave of relief washes over me. While I hadn’t quite expected the people of Sleepy Butthole to be so uptight, or downright aggressive, I’m sure this personality trait won’t carry over to the hardworking educators of the village.

I walk of the front steps of this small schoolhouse and knock three times on the door.

“What?” comes a frustrated cry from within.

“Uhhhh… it’s Vickibod Crame, I’m the new teacher,” I call out.

I can hear a few footsteps from inside as they stomp up to the door, and moments later the frame is thrown wide to reveal a large, frowning man.

“You’re late,” he says sternly.

“I am?” I question.

The man nods. “I’ve been here all morning. There’s barely enough time for you to set up now, and if this is the way you treat your job then I’m terrified to see your skills as an educator.”

“The letter said I should be here on Sunday afternoon,” I stammer, pulling it out of your pocket. “It’s Saturday. I’m a day early.”

The man snatches the paper out of my hands a begins to read, his eyes scanning over the page quickly as he takes it all in. There’s definitive proof here that he’s dead wrong, yet his expression doesn’t change like I’d expect it to. By the time he gets to the end of the letter, he’s scowling just as much as when he started, unable to admit any wrongdoing.

“Well come on in and get your classroom setup,” the man finally says, tossing me the keys as he walks past me and heads out the door.

“Is there anyone around to help?” I call out to him.

The man shrugs but doesn’t turn around, just strolls down the front steps and keeps on going. Soon enough he’s disappeared completely, leaving me standing here in the doorway of an empty schoolhouse.

I’ve got a lot of work ahead of me.

I turn back around to find that the last teacher left this place in a complete disarray. The one room building is utterly trashed, with desks broken and scattered everywhere and supplies scattered about on the floor. It looks as though this place was ransacked, which is probably the case.

If it wasn’t just me here to do all the heavy lifting, I’d probably have this place cleaned up in a few hours. Without a team by my side, however, it’s going to take the whole day.

I’d better get started.

By the time the sun is setting I’ve actually managed to pull things together. I’m not completely ready for school on Monday, but all the major work has been done and I’m happy with the results. I feel prepared, and despite the horrible attitudes of the local townsfolk, I’m actually excited about whatever is coming next.

I stand in the middle of the classroom and take it all in, trying to enjoy this small moment of victory before moving on. I take a deep breath and let it out, but it’s difficult to focus. After spending the whole day here cleaning and organizing, I’ve worked up quite an appetite. I’d completely skipped lunch without even realizing it, and we’re coming up on the edge of a very late dinner.

There’s a tavern back towards the heart of town, I suddenly remember. I can grab myself a meal there, along with a much-needed drink.

I take one more loving glance at the classroom before locking up and hitting the road. If I’d thought Sleepy Butthole was the home to glorious natural surroundings in the afternoon, then the sunset is almost unfathomably beautiful. The sky above is painted with huge washes of brilliant color, purples and oranges stretching out above me as the clouds erupts like pink puffs of cotton. The air is crisp and cool, a perfect setting for an evening stroll.

It’s not long before I arrive at the tavern and head inside, smiling wide until I notice the cascade of grumpy stares coming my way from all the other patrons. I try my best to ignore the bad attitudes but it’s hard to keep my expression from faltering as I approach the bar and nod towards the bar tender.

“Hey there,” I offer.

The man behind the counter says nothing.

“What’s on the menu for dinner?” I continue.

Still no response.

“I guess I’ll have a spaghetti and a chocolate milk if you’ve got it,” I offer, taking a stab.

The bartender nods. “Five cents,” he says gruffly.

I hand him a coin and the man gets to work preparing my food. I can only assume that he’ll bring it out to me when it’s done.

I take a deep breath and turn back around to face the crowd, my eyes scanning the room for an empty table, or at least a place to rest my feet that isn’t full of angry scowls.

My eyes drift from table to table until, suddenly, my gaze meets that of a smiling woman. She nods and motions for me to approach, which is ten times the kindness I’ve received since arriving here in Sleepy Butthole.

Still, I remain cautious, approaching slowly and carefully sitting down on the wooden bench as though I’m having dinner with an angry cobra.

The woman laughs. “Don’t worry, I’m not from here. Just passing through.”

My eyes go wide. “So I’m not crazy!” I blurt. “Why is everyone from Sleepy Butthole so mean?”

The woman laughs. “So you’re not from here either?” she question.

I shake my head, then stop abruptly, rethinking my response. “Well, I guess I’m from here now. It’s my first day in town.”

The woman extends her hand. “I’m Brinn,” she offers, introducing herself.

“Vickibod,” I reply. “I’m the new school teacher.”

“Well, you seem very nice,” Brinn continues. “I hope it sticks.”

I’m almost offended to hear he this. “Why wouldn’t it stick? This is who I am!”

“Look around,” Brinn replies, motioning to the crowd of angry folk who surround us. “This place changes people.”

“How?” I press, lowering my voice a bit as I lean in towards Brinn, hoping to discover some kind of ancient secret or mystical curse.

The woman laughs. “It’s nothing special. Trust me, I’ve done my fair share of looking into things. I figured the water must be tainted, or maybe there’s an old wizard up on the hill who cursed the place with bitterness. Nope.”

“What is it then?” I continue, pushing her onward. “There’s so many spooky stories about Sleepy Butthole, one of them must be true.”

Brinn laughs. “The townsfolk just made those up to frighten outsiders away,” she informs me.

I shake my head. “I can’t believe these bad vibes are just… the way they are.”

“Sometimes rudeness is contagious,” Brinn replies. “That’s all there is to it. One day someone said something mean, and then that person passed it on to someone else. Pretty soon the mood of the whole village was rotten to the core. It’s not common, but it can happen.”

“Sounds dreadful,” I retort.

“It is,” Brinn confirms with a nod. “The good thing is that kindness is contagious, too. It’s never too late to alter course.”

“Sleepy Butthole seems like a hard sell,” I admit. “I’ve been smiling since I got to town and you’re the first person to smile back.”

Brinn nods. “You’re right. The darkness here might run too deep.”

Suddenly, my food arrives, which is to say a sloppy plate of spaghetti clatters onto the table before me with a haphazard toss, spilling off the edge a bit and splattering across the wood. A glass of chocolate milk is roughly slammed down next to it, and before I can turn to say anything to the bartender he’s gone, disappearing back through the crowd of mumbling patrons.

Brinn and I just stare at one another for a moment, taking it all in.

“You know, someone did try a bring good vibes to Sleep Butthole once,” my new friend offers, raising her eyebrows slightly.

“Really?” I question.

Brinn nods. “The headless buttwoman.”

I’ve never heard this name before, but its second it crosses my ears I feel a sharp chill run down my spine. There’s power in these words, a supernatural magic to the moniker that cannot be denied.

“Who’s the headless buttwoman?” I question.

It might just be my imagination, but I’d swear the lights flicker slightly as I speak this name aloud.

“The headless buttwoman is a sentient, living pumpkin that was grown just outside of town,” Brinn explains. “Out by the old bridge. She loves Sleepy Butthole, and was devastated when the attitudes in this town started turning sour. The headless buttwoman decided to take matters into her own hands the only way she knew how.”

Brinn pauses here a moment, letting her words hang in the air as the tension of her story builds. I suddenly realize I haven’t even touched my spaghetti and chocolate milk, but I don’t reach for it. I’m too focused on this legend as it unfolds.

“The headless buttwoman started to offer ass eatings to anyone who came to see her at the bridge on the night of a full moon,” the woman explains. “She’s the best ass eater for miles, which is how she got her name: buttwoman. People loved it, and so did she, but the town kept getting meaner and meaner no matter how hard she tried. Eventually, the headless buttwoman just gave up.”

“Oh no,” I sigh, the words slipping out from of my lips in defeat.

“Oh yes,” Brinn replies with a nod. “She disappeared for over a decade. Most think she died out there in the woods, but others say she’s still hanging around the old bridge. On the night of the full moon – a night just like tonight – you can still hear her clopping towards you as you cross the bridge… coming to eat your ass!”
 I jump as Brinn delivers this final line, nearly falling out of my seat. My heart is slamming hard within my chest, but not out of fear. I’m inspired.

The town of Sleepy Butthole, along with the surrounding forest, is way too beautiful to let such a bad attitude flourish. If there’s someone out there trying to win over hearts with a tongue in a butthole, then I want to find out more. Maybe I can help, and maybe my coming years here in this little corner of the world can be filled with smiles instead of scowls.

I stand up from the table abruptly, causing a look of concern to cross Brinn’s face. “Where are you going? You haven’t even touched your food.”

“It’s a full moon tonight,” I offer in return, heading for the door of the tavern. “I’m gonna find the headless buttwoman and see if I can help her.”

Brinn laughs. “It’s just a legend,” she calls after me. “I was just messing with you.”

“We’ll see about that,” I counter as I push through the door and head out into the cool night air.

The sun has dipped below the horizon by now and allowed the stars to make their grand entrance above. The dark sky looks absolutely beautiful with a luminescent full moon as its centerpiece, hanging high and proud.

I head out of town towards the old bridge, which I’d crossed over on my way here. Through the farmlands I cut, the city giving way behind me. Soon enough, the farmlands give way as well, enormous gnarled trees sprouting up from every side and eventually transforming my surroundings into a thick forest.

An owl hoots off in the distance, their haunting call echoing through the woods as I strain my ears for the sound of hooves.

Suddenly, I notice something ever so faintly drifting towards me from the road ahead.

The more I struggle to focus in on this sound, the more it’s nature as clopping hooves becomes apparent. Of course, plenty of people travel these roads, but there’s just something about this moment that fills me with an absolute certainty: this is the headless buttwoman.

Not quite sure where to position myself, I decide to stand right here in the middle of the road and wait, meeting this legendary ass eater head on. I take a deep breath and let it out, standing tall and confident as I gaze into the darkness before me, waiting for her to emerge.

Nothing comes.

I listen again, harder this time, and suddenly realize that the sound of hooves has disappeared. It’s only then that it hits me. The headless buttwoman is headed the other direction.

I quickly break out into a sprint, running as fast as I can through the woods as the wind whips across my face. It feels like the gnarled trees are reaching out for me, taunting me as I struggle to catch up with this the headless buttwoman.

My heart is slamming hard within my chest now, adrenaline pumping through my veins like a potent venom.

Eventually, I see the bridge coming into view. If I don’t catch up to her before she crosses over, then I’ll have to wait for the next full moon to get another chance.

“Wait!” I cry out. “Hold on!”

I arrive at the bridge and gasp aloud to find the headless buttwoman standing there in all her glory, her horse rearing up as I startle them with my frantic approach. It’s so sudden that the sentient living pumpkin, with her large orange head and a beautiful body below it, finds the round squash toppling off of her frame.

Thinking fast, I reach out and grab the falling pumpkin, which smiles up at me in thankful relief.

“Oh my god,” the headless buttwoman gushes. “Nice catch.”

“Thanks,” I stammer in reply, “but it was my fault. I shouldn’t have run up on you like that.”

A look of slight confusion and amusement crosses the headless buttwoman’s face as she takes back her head and places the pumpkin atop her body. She climbs down off of her horse, which trots off in the other direction. “You’re not from around here are you?” she smirks. “You actually care.”

“I just moved to Sleepy Butthole,” I explain. “That’s why I’m here. I want to help you make this a better place. I wanna to be the positive change that gets an attitude shift started.”

The headless buttwoman scoffs. “Believe me, I’ve tried. It’s not gonna happen.”

“I know you’ve tried,” I retort, “but what if… what if there’s something else we can do?”

“Something better than eating ass?” the headless buttwoman scoffs. “That’s as good as it gets.”

We stand in silence for a moment, the air between us suddenly charged with an unexpected eroticism.

“Why don’t you show me,” I finally offer, my voice trembling. “Maybe there’s something I can suggest once I see your technique.”

The headless buttwoman smiles, then nods. She places her hands on my shoulders, guiding me around and then slowly dropping to her knees behind me.

“Wait, wait, wait!” I blurt, causing the sentient pumpkin to stop abruptly. “This is really how you do it? You just drop down and start eating ass?”

The headless buttwoman looks confused. “What else would I do? I’m a buttwoman after all.”

“You’ve gotta warm them up!” I cry, throwing my hands in the air. “Of course your plan didn’t work.”

“Will you show me?” she replies.

I smile mischievously as the two of us meet in a passionate kiss, wrapping our arms around one another and pulling each other close. We immediately begin to tear away one another’s clothing, stripping down so that our skin is exposed to the cool night air.

The headless buttwoman begins to work her hands across me, starting with my cheeks as she caresses me gently and then slowly moving her attention down to my breasts. I do the same to her as we learn the topography of one another’s bodies, taking our time.

Eventually, the living pumpkin’s hands begin to drift even lower. She hesitates at my waist, teasing me as I push hard against her.

“Please,”I beg, whispering into her ear. “I need it.”

“You told me not to hurry,” the pumpkin replies mischievously.

She’s right, and while I regret this fact for a moment, I also understand that the tension and ache is part of what makes this moment so good.

Finally, the headless buttwoman gives in and slips a finger down across my pussy. I’m soaking wet, and she takes advantage of this by rubbing her fingers gently across me.

It’s not long before the two of us fall into a rhythm together, the pump of my hips matching the graceful swipes of her finger. We immediately find a natural pulse, and it’s not long before I can feel the trembling bloom of something more starting to build within the pit of my stomach.

Then next thing I know, the headless buttwoman is dropping down to her knees. She gazes up with her hollow pumpkin eyes and then dives in, lapping away at my pussy with a series of gentle, yet confident, licks.

“Oh my god,” I groan, stumbling back as I try my best to stay upright. I fall against the side of the bridge, using the structure to brace myself as the sentient pumpkin continues to eat me out.

The headless buttwoman’s technique is incredible, I’ll give her that. It’s not long before my body is quaking hard, trembling as the first surges of a powerful orgasm move through it. I reach down and place my hands against the back of her large orange head, pushing her against me as her tongue works its magic.

I feel as though I could cum at any second, yet I find myself pulling back. I don’t want to climax just yet because there’s something else on my mind, something hot and nasty that isn’t typically part of my lovemaking routine.

I’m aching for the headless buttwoman’s signature move.

“I need you to eat my ass,” I blurt out, spinning around suddenly and placing my hands against the wall. I pop my butt out towards her, glancing back over my shoulder with a playful grin.

The sentient pumpkin doesn’t need to be told twice. Without a moment to spare she pushes her face into me and plunges her tongue deep into my butthole.

I let out a squeal of delight, not entirely prepared for this unexpectedly fun feeling. I’d known this moment was coming, but I still didn’t know the headless buttwoman would dive in with such belligerent enthusiasm. If there’s one thing she seems to love, it’s eating ass.

The living pumpkin continues to service me like this for a good while before reaching around and rubbing my aching clit with her fingers at the same time. Soon enough, these two sources of pleasure begin to spill together, swirling in a cocktail of sensation and creating an experience that is so much more than the sum of its parts.

I can feel the tidal wave of climax rising higher and higher before me, threatening to crest but somehow still lifting until it blocks out the metaphorical sun.

“Oh my god, just like that. Oh my god, just like that,” I begin to stammer, my eyes rolling back into my head as I repeat this phrase over and over again. The words are spilling out of my mouth in a blissful mantra. “Oh my god, just like that!”

Suddenly, I’m cumming hard, completely losing control of my body as surges of pleasure erupt through me. I nearly lose my footing for the second time of the evening, but I manage to stay upright as I grip tight against the wall. Meanwhile, the headless buttwoman continues to ravenously eat my asshole, going to town on me in a way that must to be seen to be believed.

When I finally finish orgasming, I stagger a bit, finally giving in to the weight of my body and collapsing down next to the sentient pumpkin. I wrap my arms around her and pull her close as we enjoy this moment together.

“That was amazing,” I gush. “If you take your time to warm things up, I have no doubt you can turn this whole town around.”

“Maybe I should give it another try,” she replies with a loving smile.

We sit in silence for a moment, simply enjoying the warmth of one another’s bodies as the crickets chirp and the stream below us babbles on and on.

“Can I ask you something?” I suddenly question.

“Of course,” the sentient pumpkin offers.

“It’s pretty obvious why they call you buttwoman,” I begin, “but why do they say you’re headless? You’ve got a big pumpkin head right there.”

The headless buttwoman laughs. “Oh, it’s not my literal head. It’s because I’m always giving oral but never receiving it. Headless, you know?”

“Would you like to receive?” I question.

The pumpkin cracks a smile. “Tonight, yeah.”

We begin to kiss once more as I lean her back onto the ground, the full moon hanging high above us as I get to work. A howl of pleasure echoes out across the town of Sleepy Butthole.