Ghostly Spirit Seeks Revenge Ch. 02

This story will be rather confusing if it is read without first reading Chapter 1.

*****

On the last evening of his life, by seven o'clock, Mick Donley was at a loose end. He'd worked hard that Wednesday, and had laid a maximum number of bricks. The attitude of his boss, David Turton, had bothered him.. No praise, just a cold stare, like he hated his guts. Usually he would admire a well structured wall, or a smart curve of bricks, but lately it had been mostly avoidance. Sod him. Just a bad mood time for him, probably.

He was fresh out of the bath, and standing totally naked in front of the mirror, he told himself that at thirty three he had kept his body in good condition. And his cock, hanging there loose , even in repose was impressive. Not as big as his mate Vince's, maybe, but whose was? Hadn't he ensured that it had plenty of admirers? Add to that the delight, and for some women, just a little concern when it was roused to its full pulsing erection. Women, attracted initially by his black skin, were soon rendered ecstatic by his hard black rod, and he reckoned he was pretty good at increasing their ecstasy with the power of it. ..

Dressed casually now, in jeans and T shirt, he sat in his favourite chair, wondering whether he might go out and find himself a bit of eager pussy. It would have to be just the standard pick-up. Because two nights earlier he had performed his monthly step up in class.

Earning good money with Turton's, he gave himself a treat once a month. He dressed himself in lounge suit, shirt and tie, and wandered nonchalantly into one of the upper grade hotels in the area. Paying their exorbitant prices for drinks hurt just a little but so often it was worth it. What he looked for was a classy looking woman who already had a room in the hotel, and when he caught her interest, (often curiosity about the colour of his skin), he would turn on the false upper class charm. He stopped being a bricklayer and became a business executive, dealing in diamonds..

Saturday night it had worked a treat. He had seen her sitting alone at the other end of the bar. From that distance she looked very promising, with a good, high cheek-boned face, surrounded by loose lioness coloured hair to her shoulder. The slack top she was wearing, hung from what appeared to be very impressive breasts.

In no time he had stood close, been told there was a seat beside her, and in no time they were in conversation. She possessed the voice of the educated super rich, and she told him she was a fashion model staying in the hotel for one night only. Clearly this was a plum worth picking. He watched her blue eyes widen at the mention of his work in diamonds. She allowed him to buy her a drink, as he noticed the slit in her three quarter skirt, parted to reveal bare knee and thigh. His cock twitched immediately.

.From the course of the conversation she was clearly in the 'curious about black skin' category. He talked her into a twirl on the dance floor, and she was pressed close to him, becoming very aware of his hardening cock, pushing against her. Her eyes looked up at him, but she didn't back away.

After the dance, they finished their drinks and she leaned towards him and whispered, "I've drink up in my room, supplied by my agent. So it's free." Her face looked uncertain. "Only if you want to."

"Is the view good up there?" he asked, keeping the laugh out of his voice.

But she took his meaning well, "Fabulous."

Up in her fourth floor room she told him to take off his jacket while she fixed drinks, but he grabbed her hand, saying, "Drink later. Would you do something about this?" And he pulled her hand over his semi erect cock. He knew he was taking a risk. She might scream blue murder. But as he released her hand, it remained there, moving over the material of his pants.

"Oh, yes, that is impressive," she gasped. Her eyes were wide and moist looking up at him."I've never done it with a black man."

"Have you done it with anybody?"

"Oh, yes, quite a few. One of them even discovered something that I didn't think I'd like."

He didn't ask any more questions as he unbuttoned the back of the top she was wearing, and she fumbled at his shirt. He had her down to bra and panties in no time, while she removed his shirt and ran her fingers over his chest. Her bra was next, flimsy and easily shifted to reveal really firm breasts with brown nipples. He bent to kiss them, and she gasped as his hands pushed down her panties.

"Such black skin," she sighed, running her hands and mouth over his shoulders and chest. God, she was good. His erection was now aching against his pants. He unbuckled himself, and pushed everything down. His rigid cock immediately shot up against her, and she gave off an 'Oh' sound, as she reached down for it.

Naked she stepped away from him, and gazed, wide eyed. "I've never—no, never—seen one so big."

"And so black," he said teasingly, as he let his fingers drift down to her bush, and tickle at the edge of her valley. Her fingers moved tentatively along his throbbing cock. "God, is it getting bigger?"

He grinned at her, "If you treat it kindly," he said .

"Does it like being kissed?" she asked coyly.

"Black ones bite."

She laughed, and going down on her knees, ran her lips from head to hilt along it. Her tongue made the journey back to the purple head, and licked all round it. Jesus, she knew her stuff, this one.

"Is this what the guy taught you that you didn't think you'd like."

"Oh, no, I've been doing this for a long time." Such a dulcet tone of voice, and no sooner had she spoken than her lips closed completely around his cock and sucked on it without taking it too deeply.

Mick put a hand on her head, really reluctant to stop her, but saying, "Shouldn't we lie down somewhere?"

Without delay she released his erection from her lips, and led him to the tidy bedroom, without ever letting go of his solid cock. She stopped by the side of the bed, and looked back at him provocatively."And now?" she asked.

Mick's answer to that was to give her a quick smile, push her onto her back and slide his heaving cock into her already soaking depths. No foreplay this time. He gave her everything, and she took it all eagerly, wildly responding to his every thrust. She came just ahead of him and they hit a real high.

Rested, he licked and fingered her warm moist nest. She was avid to return the compliment by drawing his hefty penis deep to the back of her throat, sucking lustily. At that point she made a move that could have spoiled the whole evening.

Releasing his penis from her mouth, she held it in her hand, and looking up at him, said, "He's nice and lubricated. Would you like to put him where I once thought I wouldn't like it?"

"And where's that?"

"Up my bottom."

Up my bottom? Is that how posh people talked about it? If it hadn't hit him with a stark reminder of times past, he might have laughed. But seven years earlier, performing that very act on a reluctant young woman, he had thought she was bucking him with wild passion when she was actually in her death throes. Since that time he had never been able to do that.

"I don't do that," he said quietly, feeling his erection, still in her hand, lose a little steam at the memory.

"Why?" And she sounded disappointed.

He made up his story. "Have you ever had one this size up there?"

"God, I have to admit-no."

"Too dangerous. Believe me,I know."

With a shrug, she simply said, "Fair enough." And proceeded to take him, semi erect back into her mouth, where she quickly sucked him back to full power, squeezing his scrotum and urging him to flood into her throat. He succumbed to those demands with some gusto, pouring wave after wave down her model's throat.

As he slid out of her mouth she licked a few remaining drops from the purple head, and murmured, "Mm, black is best."

They screwed twice more before he left and that was it.

Sitting now in his chair, recalling it, he had to admit, that one little blip apart, it had been one of the best one nighters ever .For some strange reason, since that worrying incident seven years ago, his technique with women had improved. And he needed it more often. He found he got a lot more out of it by acting cool, but letting them know what he expected.

Hell, thinking about the other night was making him feel horny. It was just turned eight thirty. Maybe he could just go to one of the local clubs he frequented, pick up one of the 'easies' that were always there, and shaft her up against a wall. Better still, get her to give him a blow job, and then come home for an early night. Damned sure he needed it. His cock was rising inside his jeans in anticipation.

It was at that moment his doorbell rang. Who the hell could that be? He didn't get many visitors. Probably somebody selling something. He went into the hall and opened the front door. What a surprise!

"Hello, boss, what are you doing here?" In the back of his mind was the recent bad attitude, but his boss looked a bit grim.

"I'm sorry to trouble you, Mick. Would you mind if I use your toilet? I was driving by, and just felt so sick. Hope you don't mind?"

Could be a route back into his good books, was on Mick's mind. "Sure, nearest one is through the back there."

David Turton stepped to one side, and drew a young woman alongside. "Mind if she waits inside? Didn't want to leave her in the car."

'Mick was staring wide eyed at the raven haired beauty at his boss's side. Black hair was fashioned to fall over part of her face, and the blue coat she was wearing did nothing to disguise the curves that lay underneath.

"No, no. Come on in. Just through the back, boss, as I said." Mick couldn't take his eyes off this luscious creature. The boss must have some charm. He led her into the front room and indicated the sofa. Mick held his hand in front of him to hide the extra bulge that her appearance had provoked.

She smiled at him, loosened two buttons on her coat, and said, "Phew, it's warm in here. Mind if I take my coat off."

Mick was thinking that he wouldn't mind if she took everything off. But as they coat dropped away he could only think of what a lucky bastard his boss was. Under the coat the woman wore a yellow dress that buttoned down the front, and the top two buttons were unfastened to reveal a tantalizing amount of rounded bosom. Christ, you could even see her nipples pressed against the material.

He sat down in his chair, but leaned forward. She had crossed her legs, and he could see miles of delectable thigh. Desperate to find his voice he said, "Have you been with the bo—er—Mr Turton long?"

She uncrossed her legs and, just for an instant, he wondered if she was wearing any panties. Just a glimpse, but he wasn't sure. Then she said, "Oh, I'm not with Mr Turton in that sense. He's just giving me a lift home-from a builder's conference."

Mick's breath became uneven. She wasn't with the boss. Looking at her sitting there with that peek-a-boo hair style he'd make a bet that Turton would have that dress off her as soon as he got to her place.

She leaned forward and asked, "Are you uncomfortable?" Her eyes were lowered in the direction of his jeans. Could she see his bulge? What he could see was when she leaned forward her dress fell forward and he could see almost both breasts. Was she wearing anything under that damned dress?

At that moment Turton came back, looking pallid, and very unhappy. "I'm feeling really rough. I'm sorry, Tina, I'll have to get you a taxi."

Mick couldn't believe his luck. A chance to jump in. "Don't do that .boss. I'll give her a lift." Wouldn't he just, though?

. "You sure, Mick?"

"That would be very kind of you," the woman he'd called Tina said, and she bathed him with the most sensuous of smiles.

"Thanks for that, Mick. I'll just get away then. Might see you sometime,Tina."

With no further ado, he was gone out of the front door. Mick turned to Tina and almost gawping at her fully exposed thighs, he asked, "Can I get you anything?"

"Can I get you anything?" she responded, with a wicked glance at his groin.

Wow, this one was an in-house special.. What a night this could be.

He sat opposite her again, "Could show me what you've got under that dress."

"You could show me what's making that bulge," she teased, and as she talked she unfastened another two buttons. The dress gaped. No bra, and both breasts were all but exposed.

Fascinated by the sight of her, and her continued unfastening, he quickly unzipped his jeans, pulled them down, and watched her face as his black cock burst out pointing up at her face. This was a trick his mate, Vince had recommended.

"Had it black like this?" he asked, feeling so sure of himself now.

"Not like that," she said, parting her dress completely, and confirming that she had been wearing nothing at all underneath. The blonde fuzz of her bush was a surprise. Blonde hair, black bush, yes, but black hair, blonde bush, now that was a something he hadn't experienced.

"Fancy handling it?" he asked.

She appeared to ponder that for a moment, "You bet I'll handle it-and more. But now, at this moment, I'd like your face-down here." And she lay back, spread her legs, and lifted her thighs towards him.

Good things come, good things go, but Mick felt he was having a very good week indeed, as he dropped to his knees in front of her, briefly stroked along the blonde fuzz of her, before he buried his face where she wanted it, and licked solidly along her crevice. Creamy as hell, and already moistening, she was going to be everything he-the roof came down on his head.

Slowly, head thumping painfully, his senses began to return. What was happening? For a while he was just content to lie. Lie? Why was he lying face down across the table? The light was dimmer than he remembered. He tried to sit back. His arms wouldn't move. Consciousness was returning fast. His head hung over one side and he could see his arms spread to be tied to the table legs. It was only a small table and the other side dug painfully into his lower belly as his legs too were pulled down tight and widespread. He struggled but the bindings were tight. Christ, there was even a binding around his waist so that he couldn't move at all.. Panic seized him.

What in hell's name? Then he saw her. She stood in front of the sofa where, he recalled now, he'd been mouthing her, and she was still naked, watching him, a disturbing kind of smile on her face, triumphant, threatening. "Look at me," she ordered. "Look at me very hard."

He had to hold his head back to keep his eyes on her. A steady terror was building inside him. Terror borne of not understanding why this was happening. Terror, with the knowledge that something terrible was going to happen. Something terrible had happened already. He was naked, spread-eagled on his own table. His stomach was churning.

"Look at me. Look down here, look at the colour of that hair. If the hair on my head was this colour and not black." And she flicked her dark hair away from her face. "Look hard. Imagine."

He did look. The hair, the face-oh, God the face. Seven years stripped away. This couldn't be. It had to be a nightmare. I'll wake up soon. Please, God, let me wake up. But the tautness of his bonds, the ache of holding his head back, the pull on his legs strapped to the table behind him somewhere. All of it, told him, this was no dream. A living nightmare.

"Get the picture, you bastard?" The male voice from behind startled him. He forced his head to turn sideways, as another figure moved into his vision.

"Boss! Thank God you're here, boss. I thought—"

His boss ignored him, and said the woman," You think you can handle this?"

"She wants me to."

David Turton, his boss, was handing something long and heavy to the naked woman. Tremors shook Mick's body when he saw they were the huge cutters they used on chains or metal bands.

Without another word the woman walked around to the other side of the table behind him. "What—are you going to do?"

His boss appeared in front of him, a large rag in his hand, and he forced it into Mick's mouth. "Would love to hear you scream, like she screamed, but can't take risks."

At that moment, Mick felt the touch of cold steel at the base of his scrotum. No, no, not that. Jesus God, not that. The next second came the most agonizing, most excruciating, harrowing pain he had ever known. Pain so searing, that he must have passed out.

He came to in a haze of shock. He moved his head slightly. His mouth was still blocked with the cloth. "He's back." He heard the woman's voice say.

"Right, I'll get it from the stove." His boss's reply.

Mick's senses were all but gone. His lower body, he felt, could take no more, just a sea of pain. He heard their voices to one side.

Turton said, "You want to handle this?"

"I'm not sure if—"

"I'll do it-you tell him, before it's too late."

Mick tried to twist his head, caught a glimpse of Turton, and what was in his hand. His heart froze. His boss was holding a length of steel that was red hot at one end. He tried to cry out, but couldn't. He knew exactly what the intention was, especially when his boss moved behind him and fingers parted the cheeks of his buttocks.

The woman had come to stand in front of him. That golden bush not far from his face as she said, "This is what you were giving her as she died. My sister. May you rot in hell."

He tried to appeal to her with his eyes. Suddenly, there was nothing as the searing rod ploughed into his anus and sizzled its way up into his bowel. Shear purgatory for only seconds, then he died.

.......

They drove back in silence for a while.. Everything was cleared up. The body rolled off the table onto the floor. Nothing left behind to incriminate them. The trophy for Sara was safe in a plastic bag.

"God, I didn't think I could go through with that."

David couldn't have agreed more, "You need a lot of hate to carry out something like that," he said quietly.

"Just having his eyes feasting on my nakedness was bad enough. But then when he touched me, I could have vomited. I'm glad you were quick with the baseball bat."

David nodded. He was pleased that the first part of the plan had worked so well. He had feigned illness, to get through to the toilet and unlock the backdoor at the same time. His one worry had been that impulse to smash his skull completely, when he saw him with his head between her legs. However, it had worked well.

Tina put his arm through his carefully as he drove, "I was a little shocked at myself at how easy cutting off his -er—equipment was."

"The need for vengeance is a strong emotion."

Arriving back at the bungalow, Tina carried in the plastic bag."I'll just wait for her message." she said, "see what she wants to do with this."

"And how she wants the next one handled.?" he asked.

"I know that already," Tina said. "She wants to be involved with this one. So it has to be here, where her power lies."

David thought about that for a moment, "That's going to be tricky. The mess and all. She going to do it all."

"Not sure. Her power may be diminishing. Strong when she showed herself to the tramp. Dreamlike when she came to you-fortunately. So I'll need to be on hand, in case she needs me."

"We'll need to work out how it will work anyway."

Tina was staring straight ahead of her, her brow furrowed, her hand drifting up to touch her black hair. Her head nodded, as though in answer to a question. Another nod, before she turned to David, "She's pleased it worked so well. Felt the release, she says. Wants his bits kept until we've got the other one."

David nodded, just a little worried about the final act having to be carried out here in his home, but he knew they'd work something out. They had to, and it would have to be something positive. Already he was aware that, as his employer, he would be facing questions about Mick Donley. When Vince Coulby followed, it would be very tragic, but for the police, just a little too coincidental. However, he was. pretty confident they could deal with that. After all, what did he know about the private lives of his two employees?