This Old House

[blackdog]

THIS OLD HOUSE

(Story Content: M/F, Horror, Bondage, Torture, R, NC. This is my venture for Halloween 2008. I’m a bit late, but you’ll have that I guess)

It began when she was a senior in high school. She had penned what are known as bodice rippers and on a lark she'd sent one off to a publisher. The publisher loved it and it became a best seller.

Things kept coming up roses as she wrote two more best sellers in her first two years in college. The money was rolling in so she quite college and began writing full time.

By the time this account opens Jennifer Knoll is 26 years old, single and very well off financially. She has a knack for finding places researching them and writing another bodice ripper that features real life local events in a fictional setting.

She had fallen into the practice of buying a house if she could where some historical event took place that involved at least one man and one woman. The involvement always had to be sexual in nature although she would couch her writings so that no really vulgar words were used.

She had become very adapt at word replacement. Rape with ravishment, fucking with lovemaking, cunt with love opening and so on. Most women and even some men loved her style and attention to detail.

Jen had been tossing and turning in her bed all night, the sweat from her heated body dampening the black silk sheets. The moonlight came in pale ghostly beams through the edges of the brocaded maroon curtains, casting strange shadows on the ornate wallpaper. In one window, an a/c unit stammered like a Bell's palsy victim. No matter the adjustment the unit spit moisture and its fan banged on some other inner mechanism.

Shortly after moving to Western North Carolina, Jen had bought the house from an eager woman realtor. Built in the old Victorian style so common in the area, the place seemed charming enough in the daylight, but after sunset, it took on an entirely different aspect. Every now and then, she heard creaks, not in the room, but from inside the walls themselves. There was also a nagging feeling that she was being watched.

The agent said, “According to state law I have to reveal this disclaimer about this house.” The agent was fidgeting about as if she saw a sale of a house in an already depressed market flying away.

“Yes and what pray tell would this disclaimer be,” Jen inquired. She was sure she already knew the answer, (Jen was a bear for research before she ever even saw a place that held potential) but she was curious for a actual local take on it.

The agent took a deep breath and launched into her tale. “The house was built in the late 1870’s by a man named William Edgar. He was from up north some place and the locals didn’t have much to do with him. The War Between the States hadn’t been over that long and all.”

“Well William Edgar lived quietly here by himself until the late 1890’s before his secret was revealed.”

“Secret? What secret?” Jen was amusing herself at the other woman’s expense and watched carefully as the other woman blushed and went on.

“Well he was a err Ahh a pervert! He was into some sort of breeding and white slavery of young women. You see there had been quite a few young women in the local area disappear over the years and they were never found. It was assumed they ran off because of the hard times here abouts. Then one night in late October in1898 a local woman ran screaming into the sheriffs office. She was as naked as a jaybird, heavy with child, and sobbed out a wild tale of depraved sex, torture, and forced conception.”

“The local doctor was called and he confirmed the woman a Marcie Thomas from over on Jackson Ridge had been raped, tortured, and was with child.”

“Marcie told of being kidnapped by William Edgar months before and held in this house. She told about being raped, tortured, and forceable impregnated. William had bragged to her about doing the same thing for years to other women and how the stupid locals had never caught on.”

“Shocking simply shocking,” Jen purred.

The agent had forgotten about the possibility of losing a sale and was now in high gossip mode. “Wait it gets worse, much worse! Marcie said that William Edgar told her after she had the baby she and the baby would be taken to the coast and sold overseas just like all the other women and babies had been.”

“Well the locals here abouts still didn’t like Yankees and remember this was 1898. A lot of the men here abouts formed what can only be called a lynch mob and came storming up here to lynch William Edgar and burn this house to the ground.”

“What about the sheriff,” Jen enquired.

“Oh he was leading the lynch mob! Remember this 1898 and things were a lot different then!”

“Anyway this mob came storming up that road we used to get here and the only road on or off this mountain. They were carrying torches, rope, and shotguns. They met William Edgar part way down the road driving his buggy pulled by two coal black horses.”

“Edgar wheeled the buggy about and raced back up the road with the mob hots on his heels. At the big meet-yourself-coming-back curve just below the house he never stopped. Him, horses, and buggy just went out over the cliffside.”

“So he died then right?” Asked Jen, knowing the answer, but wanting to hear the other woman relate all of the tale.

“Well you’d think so, but the mob never found hide nor hair of William Edgar, the horses, nor the buggy. See it was a moonless night and they couldn’t really search until the next morning.”

“So cheated out of their necktie-party they decided to burn down the house. No luck their either as a huge storm came up and stopped that. Then two men were thrown from their horses and died of broken necks. The mob finally had enough and left.”

“There were other attempts to burn the house later on, but something always happened to forestall it. It changed hands several times and electric was installed, running water, and a few a/c window units. But no one stayed here long and its been unoccupied now for some 20 years.”

“Why is it still in such wonderful condition,” Jen asked.

The other woman shrugged. “I never seems to deteriorate. Same roof, same paint, even most of the same furniture as was here in 1898.” Then she gushed. “We’re asking $65,000 for ‘This Old House’ and that’s a bargain!”

Jen smiled coldly. “Yes I’m sure it is, but $45,000 is a better bargain and that’s what I’ll give you right now today in a secure bank check.”

The agent worked hard to conceal her elation. She would have settled for $25, 000 just to get it off the books and stop paying taxes on it. “You drive a hard bargain, but I call it a done deal!”

And so Jen had herself another house loaded with local color and the premise for another bodice ripper bestseller. She knew she could have gotten the house for less than $45,000, but there was no sense in irking the locals with a parsimonious attitude. Besides she’d be able to sell the house for five times what she paid for it once her book was on the bestseller list.

Tossing and turning Jen finally fell into a fitful sleep and began to dream.

Jen who always slept in the raw was by then sweating profusely. In her dream something traced the deep crevice bisecting her buttocks. She mewed in her sleep, as she twisted over on her belly.

The dream went on in lurid detail. The had been pulled from her body and something pulled her legs wide apart. A object of some kind poked around between her buttocks just grazing her anal entrance before tracing down to the rear of her female opening.

Mewing again in her sleep Jen flips over on her back. The sheet is now over the end of the bed so her nude body is completely exposed. Her large breasts flatten somewhat with her on her back, but her nipples are erect.

Now her erect nipples are targets for the unseen object. The object teases her nipples until she cries out softly in her sleep. Then it moved down the cleavage between her sweating breasts. Down her upper abdomen until it finds the deep well of her navel and plunges in there. It pushes hard against the bottom of her navel. Her lower belly arches upward as her legs flop further apart.

What ever it was that was playing with Jen’s body began to thrust in and out of her navel as though making love to that deep well. If Jen had been awake and having this done to her she would she would have cried out in pain. In her dream Jen wanted, no needed the sharp thrusts into her navel. She could almost feel the thrusts penetrate into her viscera.

Just after dawn Jen awoke to find herself naked on her bed and her body strangely sore around her navel. She delicately probed her navel and found it tender to the touch. She felt groggy and sweaty as well. She knew there had been a dream, but she couldn’t remember any details.

Jen sat on the toilet and while reliving her bladder again probed her navel. She had no idea why it was sore unless she’d inadvertently jabbed herself there with a finger during the night, but that seemed unlikely.

Sighing with fatigue from a poor nights sleep Jen flushed the toilet and got the shower going. Jen began soaping her full breasts, slightly arched belly, and round buttocks.

As the bar of soap made its rounds Jen was overcome with a rush of lust so great it was dizzying. She staggered and fell to her knees her eyes searching and finding what they sought. Her eyes lit on a round bottle of conditioner with a rounded top. Without thinking her hands snatched up the bottle as she flopped over on her back with the hot water beating on her naked belly.

Grunting in her passion Jen pulled her water soaked pubic hair out of the way and spread the lips of her womanhood. Without regard for the size of the bottle which much larger around than anything else that had ever been in her sex she thrust in and up.

Jen yelled, “NNNNUUUU FUCK THAT HURTS!” Jen wrote in the flowery text of bodice rippers, but she like most women thought in baser words. She thrust again and the bottle made headway. Again a sharp thrust and it popped past her vaginal sphincter.

Jen’s belly undulated wildly as she used even more force until the bottle suddenly slammed fully home inside her. The rounded tip of the bottle rammed into the neck of her womb with eye watering force. Jen paid no heed to what damage she might be doing to her innards so overpowering was her passion.

The bottle was in her so deep that only an inch or so remained outside her filled birth canal. Unable to slam it in and out of her, as she would have liked she settled for rubbing her erect clitoris with a thumb while her stuffed lower belly surged in and out.

Again grunting with lust she also moaned in a husky voice. “Ahh harder just a bit harder. Shit gotta cum! Fuck I’ve got to cum!”

And she finally did have an orgasm unlike any other she had ever experienced. Her eyes rolled back, her nipples were hard aching points, as he belly thrummed with heat. In seconds it was all over and she slumped back on the bottom of the tube. She lay there dazed as her vaginal muscles continued to palpitate. The palpitations causing the bottle in her birth canal to slowly be expelled as though she were giving birth.

Later after her bizarre shower Jen sat on her bed and examined her now sore sex as best she could. As far she could tell there was no blood or other discharge. ‘What the fuck got into me,’ she thought. ‘Jesus I could have ripped myself open! And how would I have explained that in an emergency room supposing I hadn’t bled to death before then. Must have just been horny. Been a long time since I’ve had a man. Well after this book I’ll find myself one.’

Then the day’s writing had gone badly. No badly was wrong! It hadn’t gone at all. She had sat in front of her computer fingers poised over keys and nothing happened. Her muse refused to speak in fact her muse seemed to have vanished. It wasn’t writers block it was just blankness in her mind. She usually wrote four hours a day and then proofread for two hours changing a word her and there and/or adding words.

Finally Jen gave up fixed herself a spartan supper and went to bed early. She was hoping a good nights sleep would get her back on track again.

Then at some point she fell into another fitful dream. Her mind seemed to drift in and out of consciousness, as though caught in that nether world between dream and reality.

It was then, something very strange began happening to her body. She felt her arms and legs being pulled to the corners of the bed. No one was in the room with her, but the feeling was unmistakable like pairs of powerful hands pressing into her wrists and ankles, holding her down! Those wicked silk sheets that she had been wrestling with earlier were now neatly folded back, uncovering her naked body! Jen couldn't tell if she was dreaming, or if this was really happening. Her mind seemed paralyzed and unable to summon her own limbs to fight off the unseen hands pinning her to the bed.

Through the darkness, she noticed a black cloud of mist hovering off the ceiling near the opposite wall. It was about a foot square in size and seemed to be growing larger. She became aware of an icy chill in the room. Her porcelain-like skin turned to gooseflesh, her nipples pebbled in the cool air. From the cloud, long tendrils of mist, like fingers slithered downward toward the floor.

"WAKE UP!" she screamed to herself. "PLEASE WAKE UP!"

The mist wafted over the foot of the bed and swirled toward her, the tendrils wrapping themselves around her legs. A wrenching groan rose from her lips. The wisp of black hair around her sex bristled with anticipation. She could feel (No see!) invisible fingers touching and kneading her breasts. Again, her nipples could not deny the sensations being forced on her body, and swelled dark red into hard, aching buds of need. Then the fingers kneaded her belly from pubes to navel.

Suddenly a milky darkness filled the room, as though a black shroud had been draped over the bed. She could feel the cloud settle on top of her. Then it was inside her! At first, it felt like a warm, wet mist slipping into her vagina, and then it began to harden and turn into something solid. This had to be a dream, but she was vividly aware of everything that was happening to her, that feeling that her entire being was now one huge sex organ. The thing inside her body was definitely male, but it didn't feel human. It slid deeper and deeper into her very womb, growing larger, driving her to the most massive orgasm she had ever felt in her life! The thing inside her moved with a speed no man nor even animal could match.

She screamed in ecstasy as wave after wave of pleasure swept through her, ripping away her cool demeanor in the process. Something hot burst into her womb with scalding heat and then just as quickly as it started, it was over.

Limp as an old dishrag, with fresh sweat popping out all over her body, she awoke barley able to move, all of her energy sapped by this presence. She tried to prop herself up with her arms, then fell back into a deep sleep, not even hearing the alarm clock's loud buzz later that morning.

When Jen finally came around was noon. She struggled into the bathroom, got under a cold shower, and tried to regain her senses. Still weak as a kitten she examined her sex. It was still tender, but that could be explained by the use of the bottle. Then she found a clear substance leaking from inside her. She sniffed it and found it smelled vaguely of lemon/honey and of course herself. The discharge worried her, maybe she had damaged herself inside after all.

‘My God,’ she thought, ‘what on earth happened to me last night!’

Although her love life wasn't exactly on fire at the moment, Jen had enough orgasms through regular sex to know how she usually felt afterwards, and this was the same feeling, only more intense. She had heard about wet dreams, and until now, thought they were strictly a male thing, but there was no mistaking it. What she dreamt last night, as creepy as it was, gave her the most incredible orgasm she had ever experienced.

"Well it's over now, and with no harm done I guess," she opined to herself and dressed to begin work on her book.

The next night, the temperature outside dropped a good 10 degrees, so Jen was able to tolerate a nightgown in bed. She also had no trouble falling asleep this time, but when she did, she dreamed again, and in that dream, the mist came again, only this time, it actually spoke to her.

"Jen!"

She shook her head and moaned.

"Jen!"

Its voice was that of a man. Deep, rich, and authoritative.

"Get up, Jen," it beckoned. "GET UP."

Jen felt herself rise from the bed and approach the cloud. She then saw the shadowy figure of a man inside. He was tall and dressed in a dark suit with a crimson lined cloak hanging off his broad shoulders. It was the dress of a gentleman of a bygone era, but it looked brand new. His face seemed unusually long with severe, chiseled features, like a sculpture that wasn't quite finished yet. His eyes were dark blue, almost black, and intense. His powerful stature excluded dominance.

"Come with me," the figure ordered.

She followed the phantom mist down the stairs to the foyer where, suddenly, it disappeared. Jen was left alone, standing in her nightgown with the moon shining down on her from the window above the foyer. She then noticed the cellar door to her left was wide open. Again, she felt her body move forward to the top of the cellar steps. She looked down the narrow stairway. It was dark as pitch, so black that the cellar didn't seem to exist anymore, just a drop off at the bottom step and beyond it nothing.

"Down here, Jen," the stranger's voice bubbled up from the blackness. The sound of it both excited her, and filled her with terror at the same time.

Jennifer was aware of other sounds besides the voice a woman's muffled cries, faint and distant, the tinkling laughter of chains. She began to step back from the door, but suddenly, the mist shot up the cellar steps and seized her. Then everything went black.

Nothing happened in the dream after that, or perhaps her mind refused to retain the information, but when she woke up that morning the sheets had been twisted off her, and the nightgown was gone, meaning she was naked again.

Staggering out of bed, Jennifer went to the bathroom and leaned against the wall. She felt just as tired and drained as the previous morning. Then as she turned to the shower, she happened to catch a glimpse of her refection in the mirror, and what she saw nearly threw her into a panic.

Criss-crossed diagonally up and down her back, were about a dozen angry red welts. She quickly moved to the mirror and reached around to feel one of the marks. They were warm to the touch, but they didn't seem to hurt at all. How did this happen? Had she been sleepwalking and fallen down the stairs? Maybe she decided to take a little stroll outside through the trees and forgot to wake up first? She examined her back more closely and finally concluded that neither stairs nor tree branches could have caused these marks. What they did resemble, though, were wounds one might receive after being beaten with a whip or belt, but that was impossible!

Then for the first time she noticed her pubic hair or rather her lack of pubic hair. It was all gone from base of her belly right into the crack of her ass. Then see saw the faint reddish tinge of a pentagram that had apparently been branded into her flesh. The brand stretched from just above the top of her sex slit to just below her navel.

Jennifer debated with herself whether a trip to the hospital was necessary. If she did go, then how on earth was she going to explain this? After just a few minutes, the marks seemed to be fading, as if they were healing right before her eyes! She decided to hold off on visiting a hospital for the moment and took her shower first. After toweling off, she checked her body again. The marks were completely gone! However her pubic hair was still missing.

"OK, am I seeing things or am I just losing my mind?" She said out loud.

Later that day Jen sat typing on her laptop. Her fingers flew over the keys although Jen was only a fair typist and a mediocre speller. If another person had been there they would have been struck by her vacant slack-jawed expression.

After some time Jen’s expression modified and she began to edit what she had written. ‘My God I wrote that? I can’t use those words in my book!’ She said to herself.

The pages she had written were filled with the words you saw in cheap porn stories not genteel bodice rippers. The words glared at her from the glowing face of the laptops screen. ‘Fuck me! Yes fuck my ass off! Lick my cunt! Yes fuck my ass and cunt at the same time! Let me lick your fat cock!’

Shaking her head Jen powered down her laptop without remembering that her laptop was automatically set to save a document when it was powered down. Then looking up Jen noticed it was dark outside and although she didn’t remember eating or drinking she must have because the remnants of sandwiches and Dr. Peppers were all around her.

Jen took another shower making sure to touch her breasts and sex as little as possible. She didn’t want a repetition of the bottle in her puss again.

Later in bed she again fell into a restless sleep. Then the dream started again. No mist this time just the tall man in the outdated clothing appeared at her bedside.

The man’s long tapered fingers tweaked her nipples then moved down and palpitated her lower belly. In her dream she realized she was naked the bed covers thrown aside and her legs spread in a wanton pose.

Long tapered fingers petted where pubic hair normally was before one finger slipped between her swollen labia. Delving between her labia the finger found her clitoris and pressed on it. Her body jerked in a spasm of lust as her sleeping mouth opened and called out. “Yesss Ohhh God yeesss!”

A second finger joined the first and slid deep inside her moist sex channel. The fingers probed deeper and found her G-spot and cervix. Her legs spread even wider as her belly was thrust upward inviting as deep a penetration as possible.

Jen was close to her release, oh so close when the fingers withdrew. In her dream she felt cheated of her climax, as her firm abdomen undulated with her still bludgeoning lust.

In her dream Jen looked around and saw the figure that had been dressed in the clothing of a bygone era was now nude. Her eyes swept over the broad chest, the firm hairy abdomen, and settled on the figures groin. There resting in its nest of thick pubic hair was a fine specimen of erect manhood. Below that erect badge of manhood swung a bag enclosing a huge set of testicles.

Jen of course wasn’t a virgin nor was she a slut. Still in her limited knowledge of male parts what she saw was most impressive. Her sleeping lips opened and formed husky words. “In me, I want that inside me!”

The figure mounted the bed and slipped into the ready saddle of her wantonly spread legs. Hands threw her legs over shoulders just before the figure began to sheath its manhood in her female scabbard.

In her dream Jen’s mouth opened wide in a soundless screech of pleasure/pain. Her dreaming mind doubted her body’s ability to absorb it all, but her libido was urging her to try.

In and in the figures male member forged until it reached her cervix and then surged behind that tender organ. A pause then sharp little in thrusts one after the other. She gasped in her sleep as the figures manhood expanded the length of her vagina.

Some where in her sleeping mind she knew that the human females vagina was suppose to be able to widen and lengthen to accommodate even the largest male organ. She knew this because she’d researched that topic for her books. Her sleeping mind now doubted that was true. The male organ inside her had to be navel high in her abdomen. No woman could take such a penetration and live.

A final sharp little thrust and the figures huge testicles slammed into the small asterisk of her anus. Her abdominal internal organs shifted around inside her to make room for the massive intruder inside her lower belly.

A moments pause and the figures male shaft began a rigorous in and out motion. Full, empty, full empty her birth canal went from one to the other with dizzying swiftness.

Grunting in her dream and for real in her sleep she was ravished in the manner she used to describe the taking of noblewomen by swaggering barbarian raiders. She climaxed almost at once and then again and yet again.

The manhood attached to the figure showed no sign of fatigue nor did the figure utter a sound. On and on the ravishment went until Jen was limp from pleasure she had never known before.

Finally Jen felt a rapid burst of searing heat deep in her belly. Groaning in mindless lust Jen knew the figure was releasing its seed inside her. Her insemination went on for so long she was sure her belly would burst.

In Jen’s dream the scene suddenly shifted. Now she was on all fours with her wrists bound to the bed’s upper posts. The figures manhood was inside her again with a firm belly pushing on her equally firm ass. It seemed she was penetrated even deeper that way then when she was taken belly to belly.

Strong hands twisted her breasts and milked her nipples. Her ravishment seemed to go on even longer than the first time. Her climax’s reached the point where she was limp and feverish from pleasure taken to the point of pain. Finally another rapid burst of semen bullets pummeled her womb and she finally slumped down the dream over.

When the first tendrils of gray day crept into Jen’s bedroom her eyes flew open. She groaned in a mixture of pain and extreme satisfaction. Her body felt like she’d engaged in bedroom gymnastics all night long.

Sitting up in bed Jen winced, as pain wrenched into her lower abdomen. Looking down she saw that her lower abdomen looked puffy and swollen. Her fingers parted her now hairless labia and she winced again. Withdrawing her fingers she again smelled herself overlaid with that now familiar lemon/honey tang.

Groaning Jen staggered into the bathroom. ‘What the hell is happening to me,’ she thought. ‘My God maybe I’m losing my mind!’

After a shower and then a large breakfast she felt more human. Powering up her laptop she saw what she had typed before suddenly spring up on the screen. As she read the words she normally never used in her books her face became animated. Out loud she said, “Fuck it! This time I’m going to write a book with all the real words in it. No more bullshit about ravishment and love tunnels. No this time it will be fuck, suck, cunt, pussy, and tits!”

Then for hours all that could be heard in the old house was the rapid click of Jen’s fingers on the keyboard. Words flashed on the screen as Jen’s fingers typed faster than she ever had before. There was no need for spell checks or grammar checks, as everything was spelled correctly the first time and ‘Word’ found no fault with her grammar.

It was evening before Jen stopped typing and shut off her laptop. She didn’t even think it was strange that she didn’t feel the need to proofread what she had written.

Rising Jen did note that it was raining hard outside and the wind had picked up. Since Jen never had a TV or radio on while working she didn’t know that a cat 4 hurricane had made landfall on the North Carolina coast.

Stripping down nude Jen flopped into bed. She began to at once dream again.

No black mist this time or dated clothing. The male figure appeared completely nude with a huge erection already in evidence. There were things the figures hands that Jen couldn’t quite make out.

Then one enormous difference happened in Jen’s dream. The figure began to speak in a deep sonorous voice.

“Gen listen to me! Long and long I have awaited your coming! The others in days of yore were nothing! It is you who I have awaited for millennium. If you, but say I am yours take me we shall be together for all eternity!” The figures face took on an fervent expectant look.

Jen’s eyes flicked in her dreaming state. Her mouth opened, as she crooned, “I am yours take me!”

The figure smiled, as it spoke again. “Good! Very good! Now over on your belly my sweet slut one more round of pleasure before our voyage begins.”

Jen flipped over on her belly and allowed the male figure to bind her wrists to the beds upper posts.

The figure produced a mult-tailed whip commonly known as a cat-of-9-tails. The whip rises and then swiftly falls upon Jen’s unprotected buttocks with a resounding ‘CRACK’! Jen’s body quivers as the whip rises and falls onto her body. She makes no real outcry of pain, just muted grunts that could be either grunts of pain or pleasure.

Soon Jen’s usually alabaster ass is striped with whip marks and her hips had risen so that now her moist sex could be seen. Finally Jen moans, “In me! I need you in meeee! Fuck meeee!”

The figure wielding the whip tosses the whip aside with gesture of triumph. His voice comes again is low sonorous tones. “Yes my sweet slut soon! Just one more little thing I need do before I possess you again!”

Outside the wind has risen to gale force as rain battered the old house. In the bedroom neither the spectral figure nor Jen pay any attention to the worsening weather.

The figure produces a long thick rod made in the image of the badge of manhood. The figure bends forward and commands, “On your knees my sweet slut knees wide apart.

Jen follows the command in her dreaming state so that her anal entrance and sexual one were both fully on display. The figure slips the massive badge of manhood down the crevice bisecting Jen’s striped ass. Without pause the figure begins pushing that huge badge of manhood into Jen’s anus.

Jen’s body jerks as her anus is invaded. She has been an anal virgin up to that point and had never seen any reason to be otherwise. Now though she wanted to be penetrated to the maximum in that previously virgin entrance.

The figure doesn’t pause in his task. Soon the figure has inserted all of the huge badge of manhood into Jen’s colon until all of it is inside her large intestine. Jen wheezes, “Y-yes I l-love it! N-now do my cunt!”

The spectral figure mounts the bed large erection leading the way. In a thrice the figure has penetrated Jen’s now much tightened birth canal until she is penetrated womb deep and beyond.

Once the figure is fully within Jen’s belly with another belly pressed to her whip striped ass Jen gives full tongue to her lust. “YEESSS FUCK ME HARD AND DEEP! AHHHHH TAKE MEEEE!”

Soon the slap of flesh on flesh make counterpoint to the shriek of the gale outside. The spectral figures visage is a mixture of ultimate conquest mixed with astonishment that a quest so long perused has finally reached its zenith.

The figures on the bed continue in their wild fornication as Jen has orgasm after orgasm. At last the figure mounting Jen screams, “NOW YOU ARE MINE!” The figure had reached orgasm as well.

As a strange colored sperm spurts against Jen’s cervix lighting strikes the old house high on a cornice with an ear splitting crack. Jen’s dream ends then.

Epilogue:

Dateline Western North Carolina several months after the cat 4 hurricane. “Local authorities still have no answers how an old house there burnt to the ground while 6 inches of rain inundated the area. The owner author of best selling bodice rippers Jennifer Knoll was at home at the time, but no body has ever been found. In an odd occurrence Ms Knoll’s laptop was found intact without fire or water damage.”

“Local authorities have also discounted reports of a nude woman in a buggy being driven by a man in 1890’s garb and pulled by coal black horses. However many people say they saw just such a sight as the buggy raced toward the hurricane ravaged coast of North Carolina.”

Final epilogue:

Jennifer Knoll’s last book was a best seller. Pundits have weighted in from all sides about the publishers decision to publish what some call a porn laced piece of trash. Others are calling it the best thing Ms Knoll ever wrote.

Several ships off the coast of North Carolina aiding in disaster relief have reported seeing an all black sailing ship proceeding eastward against the wind with nude woman waving gaily from the bridge. The US Coast Guard had no comment.

End

[justmetoo]

Nice story. I couldn't help but think of "The Entity" when I first started reading it. I like how each night got more and more intense.

Thanks for posting it.

[RapeDiva]

Wow - that was amazing!

[blackdog]

Originally Posted by RapeDiva

Wow - that was amazing!

Thanks y'all. It was a tough fight to squeeze the story in while it was still Oct, but I finally finished it.

[captdsulu]

Good work. +rep