A Mind of Winter

"I am the master of this house," the man replied, hopping down from the writing desk. He glided over to the bed, and I saw with a sick wave of fear that his feet were only just brushing the ground. He came to a halt beside the bed and stood looking down at me, his head cocked to one side like that of a bird of prey. I couldn't move. My body had shut down. He reached out and curled an icy hand around my chin, using it to force my eyes to his. "So shocked, Penelope Morgan, and yet I have spoken to you several times before now. I have even made love to you, after a fashion. The living are so good at forgetting things which they do not wish to remember." He stroked his fingers over my cheek, and my body convulsed with violent shivering.

"What do you want?" I gasped, trying to convince my paralyzed body to move away, to get up and run from this house as fast as I could.

"I would have thought that was obvious, Penelope Morgan. I want you."

"Me?"

"Yes, you. You have so much power, Penelope Morgan, power that is mine for the harvesting. Last night, I discovered the perfect method with which to milk you." He moved his hand away from my cheek and slid it down to my chest, where he pulled the sheet away from my unresisting fingers. His fingers crept to my breast and began toying with the nipple, his cold touch immediately making the bud stiffen and swell. "I found out last night that the amount of power that you release at climax is absolutely staggering. I am old, Penelope Morgan, older than you could ever dream, but in all of my existence I have never felt so much power emanating from a single living human. I drank my fill, drank enough to assume a solid form, and yet there was much to spare. I cannot let a treasure like you escape me. You are mine."

"No. I can't stay here. I have to leave. I have to leave right now. You're not real. You're a hallucination." Black spots danced before my eyes, and a distant part of me was amazed at how thin and warbling my voice had become. I struggled up from where I sat in the bed, knocking the cold hand from my breast as I did so. But of course, there was no hand. That was just my imagination. Maybe the doctor had slipped something into my food before he left, and it was giving me hallucinations. Yes, that made sense. That's why I had passed out in the tub last night, and that's why I was talking to a ghost right now.

"You are not going anywhere, Penelope Morgan," said the ghost who wasn't there. I didn't listen. I had to get out. I had to get out of this house. I crawled to the opposite side of the bed, and almost toppled off of it before I managed to gain steady footing on the floor. Nothing happened for a moment as I began to run for the door, but I had barely taken my second step when I felt myself being lifted from the ground. It started slowly at first, I rose so that my toes just barely brushed the carpet, but then I shot towards the ceiling and came to a halt several feet off of the ground. I shrieked and began thrashing wildly at the air, causing the sheet around me to slither to the floor, and leaving me utterly exposed.

"Let me go! Let me go!" I screamed over and over again, twisting and writhing in the air, a part of me still unable to believe what was happening.

"No, Penelope Morgan, I will not let you go. Stop your thrashing." The man's face drifted into my vision. He was floating at my level, staring at me. He reached out a hand and laid it on my shoulder and suddenly I couldn't move. My limbs were pinned to my sides and my legs locked together. My jaw felt as if it had been welded shut, and all I could do was listen to my heart beating wildly in my ears, and the panicked sound of my breathing. "It would have been easier for you had you not given into hysterics," said the ghost, his face still level with mine, both of us still hanging suspended in midair. "You have made me hungry with your little struggles, and I do not think that I will wait to be fed. Your fear is almost as intoxicating as your pleasure." His hand slid from my shoulder and he stroked it across my breasts a couple times before moving lower. When he began to caress my pussy with his icy hand, terror exploded within me. It was the dream again, but this time it was real. A groan tore from my throat, but was muffled by my clenched teeth. I tried with all of my might to get away from him, but none of my limbs would move, and I could find no purchase in the empty air. Helpless tears began to leak from my eyes and shudder after shudder ripped through my body.

His hand nudged against my thighs, and they were drawn apart, stretched to their limits even as my muscles trembled with the effort to keep them closed. He backed away from me and made a gesture, and then I was being pushed by invisible hands until I lay parallel to the floor. My arms were pulled upwards until they were also spread, splayed over my head. And all the while, the ghost hovered there, observing me dispassionately with his shining silver eyes. When I lay spread and trembling, the ghost approached me. He ran his hands up and down my body, a cruel smile on his lips as he listened to my muffled moans and whimpers. His skin was so cold that it almost burned, but when he brought his hands back up to my breasts and began to work my nipples between his icy fingers, jolts of pleasure shot through me.

"I am going to release your voice, Penelope Morgan" he hissed into to my ear "If you scream, no one will hear you, so I would advise against it." I felt his hand caress my jaw and suddenly, I could open my mouth again. My first instinct was to scream, but I remembered what the ghost had said and choked back the shrieks which struggled to burst from my throat. My eyes rolled in their sockets, and I think that I was on the verge of passing out, when a cold hand fell on my forehead and the world solidified once more. "You will not escape me through unconsciousness, Penelope Morgan. There is no place you can hide where I will not find you" His voice grated on my ears, and my chest began to hitch with sobs, but the ghost only began to run his hands up and down my body once more, as if inspecting a piece of livestock.

He came to a stop at my pussy, and to my absolute horror, slipped a long, icy finger inside of me. I wanted so badly to close my legs, to buck and writhe in an effort to expel him, but I was utterly helpless in my paralysis. All I could do was release broken moans and concentrate on not screaming. His finger prodded and circled, delving into my deepest hollows, and I wept at the violation and at the knowledge that much worse was inevitably to come. The hell of it was that my body was not unaffected by my captor's attentions. On the contrary, I felt myself becoming more and more aroused as his finger continued to probe at me. He soon joined it with another and the coldness of them shocked me anew. It was like being violated by an icicle, but at the same time, it was dizzyingly, staggeringly arousing. He began to pump his fingers in and out, curving them upwards so that they brushed deliberately against my g-spot. I moaned and tried to buck and squirm, but whatever magic he had used to bind me held, and I was forced to watch as he manipulated my own body against me. Soon my pussy was slick with moisture, and a flush had crept into my flesh. I was panting, and I knew soon that despite my fear, despite my revulsion, I was going to come. I was as helpless to prevent it as I was to prevent my heart from pumping or my lungs from drawing breath. Just as I was sure that I was about to fall over the edge, the cold fingers were removed. I realized that my eyes had been closed, and when I opened them, the ghost was still there, still hovering above me and looking down at me with his preternatural silver eyes. My body ached from being pulled back from climax, and I closed my lips tightly against a moan of desperation. My pussy ached like a bruise.

I must not have been able to hold in my desperate moan completely, for the ghost gave me a chilling smile and said, "Calm yourself Penelope Morgan. I will not leave you languishing. I think only to increase the strength of your climax when I finally allow you to have it. I am curious just how much power you will be able to generate if I have frustrated you beyond what you think possible to bear." With that he began again, using his cold fingers in ways which I had not believed possible. It seemed to go on for hours. He stroked and pinched my clitoris until it was stiff and swollen, he probed inside my opening and caressed my g-spot, he ran his fingers over and over my slit until I was wetter than I had ever believed possible. Moisture ran down my thighs and onto the floor, and his fingers delved in and out of my hollows as smoothly as if they had been oiled.

Then, without warning, he inserted one of those slick fingers not into my pussy, but into the smooth puckered opening of my ass. This time I could not hold back my cry. No one had ever touched me like that before, and the muscles of my anus contracted indignantly at the intrusion of such a foreign object. The cry had absolutely no effect on my tormentor, and the first finger was soon followed by a second. The strangeness of the intrusion blossomed into discomfort. When he dipped a third finger into the wetness he had created and inserted it to join the first two, discomfort turned to pain. He began to pump those fingers in and out of me, heedless of my pain, going slowly at first, but gaining speed. My body tried wildly to expel him, but it was of no use. I was forced to lie still, stifling my cries behind clenched teeth.

"This is something new to you, is it not, Penelope Morgan?" The ghost said conversationally, still working his fingers in and out. "It is causing you pain now I daresay, but do not worry, the pain will soon disappear. Let me help to ease it." A look of concentration passed briefly over his face, and I released a strangled cry as I felt two pairs of hands at my pussy, one pinching and stroking at my clit and the other pumping in and out of my opening. I looked down the length of my body, but saw nothing but the ghost, continuing to work his cruel fingers in and out of my ass. Somehow he had conjured an extra pair of hands to torment me. As I thought this, the ghost looked into my face and smiled. "Yes Penelope Morgan, I have more power than you know. Your fear and your pleasure are feeding me even now. Let me give you another demonstration." The look of concentration passed over his face again, and suddenly, two skillful, invisible mouths were sucking and lapping at my nipples, making them stiffen and ache once more. I moaned and cried out, but I might as well have stayed silent for all the good it did. The ghost continued to violate me and to my shame, the pain really had gone away. It had been replaced by a sensation of pleasure unlike any I had ever experienced. The pain in my ass had vanished to be replaced by a feeling of pleasure both like and unlike that evoked from my pussy. My muscles had relaxed in their frantic attempts to expel him, and the sensation of those fingers in my ass combined with the skillful hands at my pussy and the hungry mouths at my nipples to make me struggle against screaming at the top of my lungs.

Soon, I felt sure that I was going to come, and this time there was no way he would be able to stop it. Even if he took all of his torturous, damnably pleasure-giving mouths and hands away, I would still come. Nothing could have prevented me. He looked at me as I thought this, and a slow smile curved his face. It was a smile that a tomcat might give to a mouse as he plays with it. The look of concentration flitted over his face yet again, and suddenly it was as if a dam had been erected in my soul. The pleasure built and built behind it, threatening to break through its wall, but the dam only grew larger to accommodate the growing force behind it. "You will not climax until I am ready, Penelope Morgan," the ghost said, his glowing silver eyes boring into me, freezing my soul. I moaned, a desperate half-mad croak, but he simply shook his head and continued to work his dark magic upon me. I don't know how many times I felt myself on the verge of climax only to be brought down. Soon, there was no bringing down, just a constant sensation of being on the edge, but being unable to fall over it.

"Please, please stop!" I gasped over and over, but it did no good. He just shook his head and smiled. Finally, however, it did stop, but not at my entreaty. When every inch of my skin was flushed crimson, when my every muscle was trembling as if I were having a seizure, and sweat beaded my entire body, the tormenting hands and mouths suddenly disappeared. The ghost glided so that he lay over top of me, his body hovering several inches from my own.

He looked down into my face and said, "Now it is time that I take my pleasure as well as give you yours. I will allow you to climax soon now, Penelope Morgan, but not yet. I have one last experiment yet to try." Suddenly he was naked, his clothes had melting away from his body in wisps of silver smoke. Some distant part of my mind could admire the cold, masculine beauty of the ghost's form. His limbs were long and slender, but well defined, his chest was smooth and firm, and his cock was very large, thick, and quite hairless. It jutted from between his spectral legs, fully erect, brushing against my belly as he hovered above me. My trembling redoubled as fresh wave of fear washed over me and my stomach twisted into a sick knot. I knew what was coming, and it took every inch of my self control not to start screaming for help. My tears, which had ceased a little while ago, began to roll down my cheeks once more and my chest hitched once in a sob which I stopped before it could leave my mouth. I wouldn't give this bastard the satisfaction of seeing me lose my head. A part of me, a cold, ironic part of me which seemed to have remained untouched throughout this ordeal laughed at the idea of my trying to maintain my dignity. What use was pride now? I could scream or I could lie here silent. The end would be the same.

That cruel smile quirked the specter's lips again and he floated closer, so that his face was only a couple inches from mine. His tongue flickered out and licked the tears from my cheeks. The touch was icy cold and I shuddered, screwing my eyes shut. When my cheeks were clean of tears, he pressed his lips to mine, and after sucking them with apparent relish, he forced his tongue into my mouth. I groaned in revulsion and fear as he kissed me. The gesture was devoid of any tenderness; it was a conquest. His tongue tasted every part of me, its chill making me feel as if someone had forced an ice cube into my mouth. My traitorous body was not nearly as affronted by this kiss as was my mind. On the contrary, my hips jerked helplessly against the enchantment which held them in place, trying desperately to find something which would ease the maddening ache between my legs. My body seemed to remember the diabolical pleasure that this cold tongue could bring, even as my mind reviled it.

Sudden anger, hot and strong surged up within me. This ghost, this thing, had turned me against myself, all for its own sick pleasure. Who was this creature to use me like some kind of farm animal? His attentions meant nothing. He had said it himself. He was milking me, coaxing the power out of my body with indifferent skill. Somehow all of this degradation might have been a bit more bearable if there had been some kind of infatuation. If this ghost, and I only thought of him as a ghost now because I couldn't think of a word for what he was, had been some tormented spirit condemned to an afterlife of loneliness, it would have been different. It would have been romantic. Romantic in a sick, twisted, gothic way, but at least I would have felt like a person rather than a cow. I knew that this was a ridiculous thing to think, but I couldn't help it. Somehow I knew that the thing floating above me had never been human, so all human emotions, from love to anguish, were beyond him. He was not some poor soul driven to wickedness by centuries of neglect. He was a metaphysical leech. The fury within me boiled over, and I began to struggle, not with my body but with my mind. Everyone kept telling me that I was so powerful; Maybe I could use that power to save myself. I had spent my entire life trying to pretend that things like psychic energy didn't exist, trying to pretend like I was normal, but if there was ever a time to give this whole psychic thing a try, now was definitely it.

The ghost was still kissing me, acting as if he was trying to suck my life out through my mouth. Maybe that was what he was trying to do. It would probably save him time. I ignored the kiss as best I could and concentrated on myself. My entire body throbbed with repressed desire. I could feel the dam that the ghost had erected within me, the one which held back my climax. It had grown huge, and I fancied I could hear its foundations creaking as it struggled to keep the energy behind it at bay. That was promising. He wasn't all-powerful after all. The metaphor of the dam was as good as any I supposed, so I went with it. I imagined a gigantic siphon sucking the energy back from behind the dam, imagined the power flowing back through my body, and to my shock I felt heat wash over me, erasing the chill of the specter's presence. I was on the brink of pushing that energy out at my tormentor when the kiss abruptly ceased.

I opened my eyes and found myself looking directly into the ghost's face. His eyes had narrowed and his mouth was twisted into a surprised sort of sneer. I gathered myself, and not knowing how exactly I was doing it, prepared to hurl at him some of the energy I had gathered. Before I could even begin, agony blossomed in my head. It felt as if someone had driven twin spikes into my temples. I felt the power slip away from me and I released a cry of pain and despair.

"If you try that again Penelope Morgan," the ghost hissed, his face still hovering directly above my own, "I will make you very, very sorry. You think this is pain, but this is only a sample. I can take power from anguish as well as ecstasy. It is a harsher vintage, but if you dare cross me again, I will soon have you begging me for death. Do you understand me?" As if to drive his point home, another bolt of pain flared in my head and I cried out.

Fresh tears leaked from my eyes and I nodded. The pain receded and I went limp against my invisible bonds. Well, that hadn't worked. But all the same, I knew now that I could use my power just as well as he could, and apparently he didn't like that idea. I didn't quite know what I was doing, but the energy was mine, and I had a strange feeling that it liked me a lot better than him. It wanted to obey me, but how could I access it without the ghost delivering on his threat? Enough pain like that would drive me mad. I thought feverishly, almost unconsciously erecting a wall in my thoughts so that the ghost couldn't listen in. He had begun to lick and suck and bite at my nipples, and the sensation made me moan, but still I thought. I had been on the very edge of orgasm for what might very well have been hours, and when I came, presumably all of that pent up energy would come rushing out, ready to be feasted upon by this leech. What if, in the instant of orgasm, I gained control of the power rather than the ghost? If he wanted it so badly it had to be very formidable indeed. Could it be enough to destroy the bastard? A spark of hope glimmered within me. It was a chance; indeed, it seemed to be the only chance. If I didn't take it I would end up trapped in this house acting as this creature's milk cow until I either died or he killed me.

My thoughts broke off abruptly when I felt something large, cold, slick, and softly yielding enter my ass. It was larger by far than his fingers had been and I screamed in pain as it thrust in and out of me, heedless to the frantic contractions of my muscles. I looked down my, expecting to see him fucking me, but he was still lapping at my nipples, his cock pressing against my belly. He had conjured another one of his invisible appendages to torment me. I moaned and tried to expel the intrusion, but it was like fighting against a hurricane. In the end I lay back and tried to relax my ass as much as I could. To my surprise, the pain soon gave way to that same delicious friction I had experienced before, only it was magnified.