A Scooby Doo Adventure

by Christine Morgan

Author's Note: turn back now, it's not too late! Really, this is a tacky piece of work, and the only reason I included it here was because I figured I'd better own up to it so nobody can dredge it up later and shame me with it. The characters herein are the property of Hanna-Barbera.

         The Mystery Machine stopped, rattled, backfired a puff of blue smoke, and stalled.
         The side door slid open and Velma climbed out. She squinted at the house, polished her glasses on
the edge of her sweater, and took another look.
         "Zoinks," Shaggy said, poking his head out of the window. "Like, what a creepy pad."
         The house was large and rambling, perched broodingly on a hill. It was grey with black trim,
surrounded by a rusty iron fence with arrowhead points. The yard was waist-deep in weeds. In the evening
light, shadows gave the house a cadaverous appearance. The broken-out windows gaped like empty eye
sockets and mouths. Weather vanes and chimneys were starkly silhouetted against an ominous sky.
         The front doors opened and Freddy and Daphne got out. The four of them stood in silence,
studying the house. Inside the van, Scooby's teeth chattered from his hiding place under a bunch of blankets.
         "Well," Velma finally said, "it looks haunted, all right."
         "I told you," Freddy said. "It is."
         "How did you hear about this place, Freddy?" Daphne wrapped her arms around herself and
shivered prettily.
         "Hey, like, I thought we were going to Pirate Days," Shaggy protested. "Nobody said anything
about haunted houses."
         "The Pirate Days Festival doesn't start until tomorrow," Freddy said. "We can explore the house,
look for clues, and still make it in time."
         "But I don't want to miss the pie-eating contest!" Shaggy rubbed his skinny gut. "Like, all the pies
you can eat, and if you eat the most, you win a prize!"
         "There will be plenty of time for that, Shaggy." Velma took a few steps closer to the house, her
round face alight with excitement. "This one could really be the one!"
         "According to the legend, it was built in the 1800s by a river pirate. You can just see the river over
there." Freddy pointed. "The man, Captain Boothe, made a fortune plundering ships carrying timber, furs,
and liquor to and from the harbor. He lived here, with his wife, until he was murdered by his crew in a fight
over shares of the booty. His wife waited and waited for him to come home, watching from that topmost
cupola for the signal lanterns on his ship. They say she died there, and her ghost is still waiting for him to
come home. Sometimes, you can hear her weeping or calling for him."
         "So that's why the college team is called the Pirates, and why they have Pirate Days," Velma said
happily. "It all makes sense. But how do you know about this?"
         "My cousin belongs to a fraternity at the college. To join, he had to spend the night in the house as
part of his initiation. When I told him how we've been going around looking for ghosts, he told me the
         "Did ... did he see a ghost?" Shaggy was pale. In the van, Scooby's teeth chattered even louder.
         "He saw something," Freddy said solemnly. "He wasn't sure if it was a ghost, but it looked like a
woman in a long nightgown and kerchief, carrying a candle. He said he could see right through her."
         "That sounds like a real ghost to me!" Velma said. "At last! All these times, finding nothing but
conspiracies and slide-projectors and glow-in-the-dark paint, at last we've found a real ghost! I'll be able to
get some real research material for my thesis!"
         "Oh, Velma, that'll be great!" Daphne enthused. "You've spent so much money on this, practically
your whole inheritance. I'm so glad we might finally find something real!"
         "Well, what are we waiting for?" Freddy said. "Come on, Scoob. It'll be dark soon."
         "Rye row," Scooby said. "Ry'll rstay right rhere."
         "How about for a scooby snack?" Freddy wheedled, shaking the box.
         "Ruh-uh. Ruh-uh."
         "Two scooby snacks?"
         Pause. "Rno."
         Daphne took a snack from the box and tossed it into the van. The lump of blankets shifted, and
        Scooby's big pink tongue slithered out to scoop up the treat. His wagging tail thumped against the floor.
         "Come on, Scooby Doo, where are you?" Daphne crooned, waving another snack in the air.
         Shaggy was watching with undisguised lust. Finally, it became too much for him and he snapped
the snack from Daphne's fingers just as Scooby emerged from the van.
         "Rhey!" the dog complained.
         "Oh, here's one for you," Daphne said, tossing one.
         Scooby jumped for it. Shaggy jumped also. The two of them collided mid-air and collapsed in a
big ungainly heap.
         "Will you two quit messing around?" Velma scolded. "We've got a ghost to catch!"
         With Freddy in the lead, Velma close behind him, Daphne in the middle, and Shag and Scoob
bringing up the rear, they went through the rusty squeaky gate and up the overgrown path to the porch.
         A swift flicker of light in an upstairs window.
         "Did you see that?" Velma gasped, clutching Freddy's arm painfully tight and pointing up.
         It was gone, if there had been anything there. "Probably just the reflections of a car's headlights in
the window," Freddy said.
         "No, it couldn't be," Daphne argued. "The windows don't have glass. And there's nothing out there
but the river."
         "Maybe it was the ghost!" Shaggy gasped.
         Scooby whimpered and plunged his head to the ground as if he thought he was an ostrich.
         "Hurry!" Velma trotted up the steps. Her skirt flapped, giving Freddy a flash of sensible white
cotton panties and strong pudgy thighs.
         Daphne saw it too and gave him a sly sideways smile. Shag and Scoob were staring up at the house
with resigned dread, not looking at her, so she raised the skirt of her blue dress enough to show him that her
purple stockings ended mid-thigh and were supported by lacy garters. Freddy's eyes widened and he
         As Velma crossed the porch, the door swung slowly open. Creeeeeaaak.
         Scooby and Shaggy clung to each other like a couple of pre-teen girls in a thunderstorm. Velma
paused. "Hello? Is anybody there?"
         No answer. She looked back at the others. Daphne nodded encouragingly.
         "Hello?" Velma tried again, pushing the door the rest of the way open.
         Darkness. Silence. Then a faint, faraway wail like that of a griefstricken woman.
         "It's her," Freddy whispered. "Captain Boothe's wife!"
         "Um, why don't Scoob and me wait out here?" Shaggy suggested. "You know, like, to stand
         "Sure," Daphne said. "It won't be too dark and scary standing out here all alone, next to a haunted
         Shaggy uttered a high shaky laugh. "Well, if you put it like that ..."
         "Come on," Velma urged.
         They entered the house, moving with the stealth born of months of creeping around supposedly
ghost-infested houses, amusement parks, recording studios, and hotels. Freddy switched on one of their two
flashlights, cupping his hand over the end to shield the glow. It turned his fingers momentarily blood-red.
         The front room of the house was spacious, filled with sheet-draped furniture. Old paintings of
spooky-eyed people in antique fashions watched them warily from the walls. Cobwebs thickly festooned the
upper corners. Dust puffed up from the rug. Everywhere was the smell of age, mustiness, decay.
         "Your cousin spent the night here?" Shaggy said. "Like, he must have been one brave cat, or one
crazy cat."
         "Shh!" Velma hissed. "Listen!"
         The wail, rising and falling, sobbing. And a new sound, a low and somehow sneaky shifting from
an open doorway leading to the cellar stairs.
         "Let's split up," Freddy suggested. "You three go upstairs, Daphne and I will look around in the
         "Split up?" Shaggy asked, looking like he was about to wet himself at the very idea.
         "We can find more clues faster that way," Freddy said.
         "You'll be fine," Velma said. "Just stay close." She took the other flashlight and headed for the
staircase. Shag and Scoob followed with all the enthusiasm of criminals on the way to the gallows.
         "I'll go first," Freddy said to Daphne as the others climbed to the second floor. He aimed the light
down the cellar stairs, then cautiously proceeded down. Daphne followed, her breath quick and warm on the
back of his neck.
         At the bottom of the stairs was a short hallway. An archway on the left led to a dusty old wine
cellar. There was a door on the left, firmly closed. Daphne tried it. "Locked," she whispered.
         "Try this," he replied, pressing a key into her hand.
         "Where did you get this?"
         "My cousin gave it to me."
         She gave him a puzzled look and tried the key. The lock clicked and the door swung open on oiled
         Freddy reached past her and flipped a switch. A gooseneck desk lamp came on, casting a harsh
circle of light on the floor. Unlike the rest of the house, the room was clean. The floor was covered with a
nubby rug, a trendy burnt-orange couch was along one wall, a battered coffee table held a television with
foil-wrapped rabbit ears, and the walls were covered with psychidelic concert posters and anti-war
propeganda. There was a fridge humming quietly in a corner next to a two-burner stove and shelf of
mismatched dishes. On the other side of the room was a doorway curtained with strings of beads that
swayed and clicked.
         Daphne turned to Freddy, her expression questioning. He was grinning broadly.
         "My cousin's frat brothers set it up," he explained. They've got the whole house rigged, with tape
players, projectors, sound effects, everything. They use it to scare pledges on their initiation. There's enough
fake ghost stuff here to keep Velma and the others busy for a while."
         "You mean, there's no real ghost?"
         "No real ghost."
         "You mean, we're finally alone?"
         "Oh, Freddy!" She ripped her headband off, letting her red hair spill gorgeously over her
shoulders. He grabbed her and planted a kiss on her, giving her the tongue, kicking the door most of the
way shut.
         She was all over him, squeezing his ass, tugging at his belt, running her fingers through his blond
hair, hands everywhere, like she was one of those six-armed snake goddesses. He popped two of the buttons
off her dress and she somehow wiggled out of it without letting loose of their lip-lock. Underneath, she had
her stockings, garters, silky panties, and a lacy push-up bra.
         Her tits drove him wild. Before, he'd never managed more than a few quick feels, in their
frustrating grope sessions in the back of the Mystery Machine while Shaggy was off at a fast-food stand and
Velma was asking around about whatever local ghost story they were tracking. He'd gotten his hand on her
pussy once, hot and wet, but still hadn't seen if she was a natural redhead.
         Now, though, he was feeling flesh and hard pointy little nipples, and she was rubbing his prick
through his jeans. The one time he'd persuaded her to give him a hand job, he'd spurted cum all over half a
sandwich that Shaggy had left lying in the van, and they'd almost been caught. There had been no time to
get rid of the damn sandwich, and they had spent a bad day in fearful expectation. But aside from some
comment from Shaggy about bad mayonnaise, the incident had never been discovered.
         "I can't believe we've waited this long!" she panted, yanking on his scarf.
         "There's never been a good time." He undid the knot before she strangled him.
         "Why can't we just tell the others?"
         "Are you kidding?" He got rid of his sweater. "You know what a prude Velma is! She'd kick us off
the team, and she's the one with all the money. You think I want to get a real job?"
         "She'd be jealous anyway. She's got a crush on you."
         He unbuttoned his pants. "Why the hell are we talking about Velma? Let's quit wasting time and
    *  *  *
         "Rwot's rin rhere?" Scooby asked.
         "Looks like the kitchen," Velma said, shining the light around.
         "Kitchen?" Shaggy perked up. "Like, let's look in here for clues!"
         "There's not going to be anything to eat," she said.
         He shrugged. "We might as well look."
         "I wonder if Freddy and Daphne are getting anywhere," Velma said. She wandered over to
investigate a large china cabinet while Shaggy started poking through cupboards. Scooby stuck his nose in
an open drawer, then yelped in surprise as a large spider scuttled out.
         "What's the matter, Scoob?" Shaggy found the dog shivering under the sink. He bent down to try
and haul him out.
         Thump! Rattle! "EEEEeeeee ..."
         Shaggy turned. "What was that?"
         Scooby sniffed the air. "Rwhere's Rwelma?"
         "Yeah, man, where is Velma? I hope she didn't fall down another trapdoor or something."
    *  *  *
         Daphne was noisy.
         He had her spread out on the couch, kneeling between her legs, busily licking her pussy (natural
redhead, question answered, and vaguely strawberry-flavored).
         Her heels drummed on his shoulders and back. She gasped, she moaned, she oohed and aahed.
         It was a great show, and he was glad he hadn't told her the rest  of what his cousin and the frat boys
used this room for. He was glad she didn't know about the camera over the fridge, which was recording
         "Oh, Freddy! Oh, Freddy! You have to do it now! You have to fuck me! Oh, I'm going crazy! Give
me that big prick!"
         He clambered onto the couch with her, sucking her perky tits. She reached under him and guided
his prick to her cunt.
         "Now! Now!" she squealed, raising her legs.
         He rammed into her. She was slick and tight and her inner muscles clenched around him like an
oiled fist. Her legs clamped his hips so hard it almost hurt.
         "Oh, God! Oh, yes!" she gasped. "Ooh, do it faster!"
         "You like it, huh?" he grunted, pumping her so hard and fast that the whole couch shook. "You like
to be fucked?"
         "Yes! Yes!"
    *  *  *
         Velma sneezed from the dust and brushed cobwebs out of her hair.
         She was sitting on a cold stone floor. Ranks of wine racks stood silent sentinel around her.
        Overhead, the trap door that had opened beneath her feet was closing. She jumped up and tried to catch the
edge, but missed. There was no way to open it from below. She would have to find another way out.
         She still had the flashlight, and made her way through the maze of wood. She began to hear strange
noises, sounds like ... could it be? No, surely not ...
         A wide bar of light shone through a door that was standing ajar, and from behind the door the
noises were louder. Voices, familiar voices --
         She threw the door open and gaped in horror.
         "Freddy! Daphne! Oh, my God!"
    *  *  *
         "Velma!" Freddy craned his neck and saw her standing in the doorway, staring at his naked ass.
         "Who cares?" Daphne writhed under him. "Don't stop, Freddy! I'm about to come!"
         He pounded at her frantically, riding into the home stretch. She clutched his hips and thrust her
cunt up at him faster and faster. Her nails jabbed into his back.
         "No!" Velma cried, and dashed into the room. Her feet tangled in Freddy's discarded jeans and she
crashed heavily into the rug.
She went into such a frenzy of bucking and thrashing that Freddy was nearly thrown off of her. Then she
collapsed in a dead faint.
    *  *  *
         "Did you hear that?" Shaggy gasped as the distant scream trailed away.
         "Ruh rghost!" Scooby's brown fur went dead white.
         "Like, let's get out of here!"
         Badittabadittabaditta -- Ziiiiip! as they ran in place for a terror-stricken moment before tearing
toward the kitchen door. It was too narrow to accomodate them both and they wedged like a cork in a
    *  *  *
         "Jesus," Freddy said, staring at Daphne. Her eyes were rolled back, her body was utterly limp.
         He withdrew his still-stiff prick, since going at her while she was out cold would be a tad too
necrophiliac for his tastes. Behind him, he heard Velma groan as she pushed herself to hands and knees.
         "My glasses," she wailed. "I've lost my glasses!"
         He looked at her, at the pendulous swinging of her tits under her sweater, and then looked down at
his rampaging prick. "You're going to lose more than that," he muttered, and jumped on her.
         "Freddy? What are you -- oof!" as his weight drove her down onto the floor again. Her questing
hand struck her glasses and sent them skittering across the floor.
         He yanked her skirt up to her waist. "Something I should have done a long time ago!" He seized
the waistband of her sensible good-girl panties and pulled them down, revealing her smooth, white bottom.
         She scrambled to hands and knees again, trying to get away, but he hooked one arm around her
ample waist and groped beneath her with the other hand. Her pussy mound was plump and firm, covered
with silky hair. His prick gave a sudden eager lurch.
         Velma tried to scream, but only managed a thin squeak. He wormed a finger into her cunt.
         "Freddy, stop it!"
         His thumb found and rubbed the shy hidden knob of her clit while his fingers probed her snug hole.
        "You'll love it, Velma," he said. "More fun than chasing ghosts!"
         "Stop!" she said, louder this time, but he felt warmth and dampness on his invading fingers.
         Taking away his hand, he grabbed her wide hips. "Pirates," he scoffed. "I've got your pirate here!
Prepare to be boarded!" With that, he rammed his prick into her cunt to the hilt.
         Velma's violated scream echoed around the small room.
    *  *  *
         "Get out of the way, Scoob!" Shaggy said, struggling.
         The dog's eyes rolled, showing the whites. His fur had resumed normal color, but he was still in the
grip of fear.
         Just then, something white floated across the hall in front of them. Pale, ghostly, a vague woman-
shape, flickering across the walls.
         They reversed direction and popped out of the doorway like two watermelon seeds pinched
between a finger and thumb. Scooby tried to go under the kitchen table, got stuck, and kept running, taking
it with him. He hit a swinging door and vanished into the pantry.
         Shaggy dove headfirst out the window and landed in a thick patch of weeds. He crawled away
from the house as fast as he could, but was not fast enough to avoid hearing another banshee shriek. He ran
to the Mystery Machine, climbed in, slammed the door, and locked it. Then he curled up in his seat, hugged
his knobby knees to his skinny chest, and shuddered.
    *  *  *
         Freddy rocked back and forth, fucking Velma nice and slow. She had quit screaming and was now
biting on her wrist, making muffled noises that might have been sobs but sounded suspiciously like moans
of pleasure.
         He let go of her hips to see if she'd try and get away again, but she stayed right where she was. He
slid his hand back to her clit and rubbed some more.
         "Like it, Velma?" he asked, thinking gleefully how this was going to look on film, how his cousin
and his cousin's buddies were just going to freak out. "Going to come, Velma?"
         She shook her head, but her cunt was clenching, and she was moving her ass ever so slightly to
meet his thrusts.
         "Mmm, ooh," Daphne said, raising her head. When she saw what was happnening on the floor,
shock slapped the grogginess from her face. Her mouth and eyes made three perfect O's.
    *  *  *
         Scooby huddled in the pantry, waiting for something to happen. When nothing did, he cautiously
poked his nose out. "Rhaggy? Rhaggy?"
         No answer. No sign of the ghost, or of Shaggy.
         His teeth clattered so loud that they drowned out the thunder of his heartbeat. When the spider
dashed between his paws, he let our a yelp that was nearly ultrasonic and raced for the door.
    *  *  *
         Shaggy stopped shaking. He peered out the windows, but couldn't see any of the others.
         "Zoinks, I hope the ghost didn't get them," he said to himself. "Like, maybe I should go look."
         His stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten in half an hour. "Like, maybe in a few
minutes," he decided.
         There was a small fridge in the rear of the van. Kicking clothes and luggage out of the way, he
opened it up and surveyed the contents.
         In no time, he had built a large sloppy sandwich. Sinking his teeth in, he sighed in rapture. The joy
of food was enough to give him a boner. He pressed idly on his crotch with one hand while rooting through
the fridge for the last eclair in a pink bakery box.
         Still chawing down on the sandwich, he balanced the eclair on his knee and opened his fly, taking
out a cock that was as long and skinny as the rest of him.
         Between bites of bread, meat, mayo, pickles, cheese, and onion, he nibbled the top off the eclair
and sucked out some of the cream filling. It left a chocolate-covered pastry shell with a creamy furrow that
nicely fit his cock.
         Sandwich in one hand, he ate as he jerked himself off into the eclair.
    *  *  *
         "Oh, wow," Daphne said. "Oh, wow, Freddy, you're fucking her."
         Velma looked around at her with huge horrified eyes. "Help me, Daphne! Help -- ooh -- help me!"
         Daphne licked her pink lips. "Help you? Okay." She got down on the floor with them, still wearing
nothing but stockings and garters. She tugged Velma's sweater up to her armpits and unfastened her heavy-
duty bra.
         Velma gasped and squirmed, but Daphne's small hands were all over her, cupping her tits, tugging
gently at the large pebbly brown nipples.
         Freddy pumped harder. "Unh, I'm going to come soon," he said.
         "Hear that, Velma?" Daphne whispered in the other girl's ear. "Freddy's big prick is stuck right up
you, and soon he's going to come, he's fucking you, don't you want to come too? Doesn't it feel good, all
that thick hot cock slamming in and out?"
         Velma moaned. She was quivering now, her pale skin flushed.
         As Daphne spoke, she continued fondling Velma's breasts with one hand and started caressing her
own pussy with the other. "It's making me hot all over again just watching you. You know what I wish? I
wish you'd lick my cunt while Freddy fucks you." She laid back on the rug, spreading her pussy lips with
her fingers. "Do it, Velma. Lick me."
         "Yeah!" Freddy said, biting his lip and trying to hold off. Geez, this was more than he'd ever
imagined! He hoped the camera was picking it all up! "Do it!" He shoved Velma's head toward Daphne's
waiting cunt.
         With a strangled cry of abandon, Velma buried her face between Daphne's thighs.
    *  *  *
         His mouth was crammed with sandwich, his cock surrounded by a sticky cunt of pastry and
chocolate. Shaggy had never been with a chick, never cared to. All the satisfaction he needed, he got from
         When he came, he gasped a whole olive down his throat and nearly strangled, but didn't stop
sliding his pastry-filled fist up and down. Jets of cum pumped out, turning the eclair into a soggy crumbling
    *  *  *
         Scooby folded his ears over his eyes. He had adopted a new strategy. If he didn't look, he couldn't
possibly see anything to scare him.
         So, blind, he took a wrong turn and fell down the cellar stairs. At the bottom, he righted himself,
shook his head, and froze at the strange sounds.
         He sniffed the air. "Rwelma? Rheddy? Raphne?"
         Something about their scents ...
    *  *  *
         Velma flung her head back. "Freddy! Yes! I'm coming!"
         "So am I!" He fucked her faster, his thighs slapping her ass.
         "I'm not!" Daphne cried petulently. She seized Velma by the ears and tried to force her back to
licking, but Velma was caught up in the throes of her orgasm.
         A startled woof caught Daphne's attention, and she turned her eyes to the door. Scooby Doo was
standing there, a comical expression of surprise on his doggy face, his tongue lolling out.
         A thoroughly wicked idea struck her and she acted on it at once. Freddy always kept a couple of
scooby snacks in his pocket for emergencies. Her cunt, aching for attention, told her that this was
emergency enough. She fished the snacks out of his jeans as he and Velma collapsed into a sweaty, heavy-
breathing heap.
         "Scooooooby," she crooned, waving the snacks. "I've got something for you, Scooby."
         His ears perked up. She took one of the snacks and pushed it up into her pussy, then crumbled the
other one over her clit.
         Scooby whined, tail wagging uncertainly, and took a few steps toward her. She tilted her cunt at
him invitingly. "Come on, Scooby Doo. Nice scooby snacks, come and get them!"
         "Daphne?" Freddy was gaping at her. She ignored him and coaxed Scooby closer.
         The big dog sniffed her cunt, then huffed a warm breath over it and started licking and slurping.
His tongue was large, pink, slightly rough, and wet.
         He lapped up all the crumbs, bringing Daphne right to the edge, then thrust his tongue deep into
her, fishing for the hidden snack. His cold nose pressed against Daphne's clit. She wrapped her legs around
his head and humped his muzzle until she came, shrieking like a fire siren.
         The sight of Daphne getting eaten out by Scooby made Freddy horny all over again, though he
would have sworn he was worn out. He rolled Velma over (reeling from her orgasm and still without her
glasses, she didn't know what was going on just a few feet away) and stuck his prick in her mouth. She
started sucking eagerly, all resistance gone.
    *  *  *
         Shaggy threw the ruined eclair into the weeds and washed his hands. He was full, content, and
beginning to worry about Scoob and the others.
         He wandered around the outside of the house for a while, trying to work up the nerve to go in.
        Every time he was about to, he heard more ghostly screams and chickened out. In his wanderings, he
encountered a long chain of extension cords leading from the house, but it never occured to him that this
might be a clue.
         "Zoinks," he said to himself, coming around to the porch again. "Like, where are they?"
         He took a deep breath and prepared to go in, when they appeared. Scooby was first, licking his
         "Like, where have you been?" Shaggy asked indignantly. "Did you find something to eat in there?
Man, you better have saved me some!"
         Daphne and Freddy exchanged a glance, and Daphne laughed. Velma was bringing up the rear, her
glasses clutched in one hand and a dazed smile on her face.
         "So, like, did you find the ghost?" Shaggy asked.
         "There's no ghost," Freddy said. "It was all a hoax."
         So, they all got in the Mystery Machine and drove off to the Pirate Days Festival.
    *  *  *

Copyright 1995 Christine Morgan