A Mind of Winter

"That's right Penelope Morgan." The ghost had lifted his mouth from my nipples, and now he smiled at me, displaying a mouthful of pearly, pointed teeth. "The less you resist the easier it will be. Acquiescence is a virtue." He idly ran a few of his fingers over my swollen clit, and I jerked. "I don't think I will wait any longer," he said conversationally. "I am going to take you now, Penelope Morgan, and then we shall see if you are as powerful as I think you are. I will release your legs for this. They are very pretty, and I quite fancy seeing them wrapped around my waist." That look of concentration fleeted over his features, and suddenly, I could move my legs. I fought the impulse to kick out at him. It wouldn't do any good; the blows would probably just pass right through him.

He shifted slightly above me so that his cock prodded my slick opening rather than my belly. I held my breath and braced myself. The invisible cock still pounded away at my ass, making thought difficult, and the fear of having him inside of me tried to cloud my mind still further, but through it all I grasped tightly to my plan, my one hope for salvation.

His cock, winter cold, almost painfully thick, and at least eleven inches long breached my opening and slid slowly inside of me. Just when I thought that I could never in a thousand years take the entire length of it, the last few inches disappeared and he began to thrust, a slow and steady rocking of the hips which mocked solicitude. He timed his strokes so that they came at a counterpoint to those driving into my ass, and the pleasure was almost too much. I had had no idea that pleasure could hurt so much. I had been on the edge for hours, but now I was in that state which occurs the instant before orgasm, that frantic, desperate period when you would keep going even if your mother, your father, your grandparents, and your local priest walked in. But instead of consisting of a mere moment, it went on and on, spinning out into eternity. I could almost feel my sanity creaking, and I think the only thing that kept me sane was the part of me which clung to the small spark of hope which lay at the end of this ordeal. I had to endure, I had to.

I felt invisible hands grasping my legs and wrapping them around the specter's waist, and the position shift caused his thrusts to rub maddeningly against my g-spot. I screamed so loudly that it burned my throat, and unable to stop myself, I began to buck my hips up against him, forming a counterpoint to the two cocks inside of me, the invisible one plundering my ass and the corporeal one, so cold that it was as if I was being fucked by a chilled marble statue, thrusting deep inside of my pussy. Scream after scream tore from my throat, but far from granting me release he only increased his pace, plunging in and out of my soaking pussy faster than any human being ever could have. The cock in my ass sped up to match the pace, and I writhed, my body trying desperately to find a position which would finally allow it release. Time passed, marked only by the tireless thrusting above me, and I endured as best I could, but soon I began seeing patches of blackness at the corners of my vision. The human mind and body are not designed to bear such strain. If I didn't come soon I was going to pass out.

The ghost seemed to sense this, for he bent his head and whispered in my ear. It was strange to hear him sounding so calm when the lower half of his body was doing things to me which I hadn't even know were possible. "I am going to let you climax now, Penelope Morgan, and then we shall see exactly how much power is inside that pretty frame of yours." The familiar look of concentration fell over his face, and I felt the dam he had erected inside of me burst. I screamed, screamed louder than I had ever done in my life. Every part of me seemed to be on fire as the orgasm rocked through me, erasing even the coldness of his touch. My pussy and ass spasmed and jerked around the two cocks inside of them, the contractions so strong that I was surprised I didn't expel him by sheer force. All the blood seemed to rush to my head and colored lights danced in front of my vision. I writhed and jerked against him, cry after cry tearing from my throat. This was too much, I would die, I would die—

The small part of me that was still thinking spoke up. Now! It shouted, now! With an effort I turned all of my will to the power pouring out of me, reining it in, gathering it to me. It came willingly, and the strength of the orgasm redoubled as it surged back into me. I screamed again, and as I did so, I pushed out with my mind, putting everything I had behind the blow.

The ghost flew off of me as if he had been blown by a gale, and the spectral cock left my ass. As I continued to orgasm I poured all of my will into the ghost's destruction, and as I watched he began to grow transparent. There was a look on his face of incredulous fury, and I saw that he no longer looked quite so human. The pupils of his eyes turned to vertical slits, and his face became angular and almost catlike. I could see the opposite wall through his body, and joy surged through me. I was beating him! I felt his efforts to stem the flow of my power, but I batted them away like the trifles they were. "You bitch!" he shrieked, showing long, pointed fangs. His eyes gleamed red, and he lunged at me. I gave a final mighty heave with my mind, and suddenly he exploded. It was a silent spectacle, but impressive. It was as if someone had planted a bomb in his transparent flesh. Scarps of gray mist flew out in every direction and soon, where the specter had stood there was only a cloud of silver vapor. Then even that disappeared.

As the last wisp faded, my orgasm came to an end. I went limp, sure that I was going to pass out, and then I fell abruptly out of the air and landed hard on the floor. The wind was knocked out of me, and I simply lay there, not moving, gasping for breath. Then, hardly aware of what I was doing I struggled to my feet and staggered to the bed. I collapsed on top of it and a moment later unconsciousness took me.

When I woke, bright sunlight was streaming through the bedroom windows, making the gloomy room seem almost cheerful. I felt as if I had a bad hangover. My head pounded, and all of my muscles felt weak and lax. I sat up in bed and looked over at the clock on the bedside table. It was ten o'clock in the morning. I sank back against the pillows, exhausted even by the effort it took to remain upright. I took a deep breath, and then I concentrated. The force which I had felt so keenly last night was still there inside my head, a bit diminished perhaps, but I sensed that it would replenish itself with time. I frowned, and with a bit of effort, I sent a wave of energy coursing through my body. Immediately I felt better, better in fact than I had felt in years. All of those accumulated aches that people carry with them as they go through life seemed to have vanished from me. I got out of the bed and stood up, relishing the crackle of my spine as I stretched. Realizing that I was still naked, I went to my suitcase and put on some clothes. Then I began packing up my things. I didn't think about what had happened last night. There would be time to think about that tomorrow. In fact, I didn't think that there would ever be a time when the events of last night would not be at the back of my mind, hovering over everything that I did. But I wouldn't think about that now.

I wasn't afraid. It might have been shock, but I think a lot of it was the fact that I knew a little bit more about myself than I had the day before. I think I realized that the things that go bump in the night had more to fear from me now than I had to fear from them. When my bag was packed, I walked out of the bedroom, closing the door firmly behind me. Then I walked through the empty house, seeming to see it anew as I did so. Before, everything about the place had seemed ominous, full of a dark and terrible power even though I had tried to laugh it off, but now it all seemed like a bad joke. The gothic carvings and dramatic furnishings looked like props in a trashy horror movie. I walked through the house until I stood before the front doors. I reached for the handle and took one final look back at the interior of the house. Gargoyles and carved imps leered back at me, and I felt laughter bubbling up in my throat. In let it out. What a ridiculous old house. Still chuckling, I opened one of the massive front doors and stepped outside into the sunshine. Fuck Doctor Andrew's and his money. It was going to be a beautiful day.

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