Twisted Yearnings

Alone within the house did she sit
and there was no sound but her own.
Fingers working through the sweetness
that she herself created.
In the darkness.

Moans escaped her lips
and as they did

something heard her
something old
something forgotten
something twisted...

It rose from the floorboards,
mist it would seem,
insubstantial and ghostly
it rose up behind the bed she lay upon
and began to become solid.

Moans escaped her lips still
her fingers working hard

something watched her
something old
something forgotten
something twisted...

She sighed and moaned and then
something filled her mouth
ramming back and forth hard
and she felt hands all over her
hundreds of hands
probing her tight holes
and then she felt something
slide into her dripping sweetness
and another something
slide into her puckered spot
and grow thicker and longer
and begin to push in and out
hard and fast and she screamed
but the mass rammed harder and harder
down her throat.

She was lifted off the bed
her head forced down as she watched
as two ghostly probes
rammed back and forth
like pistons in her spots
then a tiny little thing coiled about her
tiny button of pleasure and began to play
and the hands pressed and kneaded her body
her breasts and ass
as the probes rammed her
back and forth
harder and harder
and caressed her pleasure
until she exploded inside and
juices dripped.

She did not wake the next morn,
she was melded to the wall
and frozen in place,
two long thick pulseing probes
frozen inside her
tormenting her all the day
until the night.

a naked statue in an old house
that wakes in the night
to torment of pleasure
by the twisted yernings
of her ghostly captor...