Haunting at Chimera Cove

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Antique store's ghosts provoke an unanticipated reaction.
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Just as the rocks that insolently stand up against the tide, and the trees that bear the brunt of a horrific fire take with them an indelible mark of their journey through time, so do other objects keep certain images with them. Absorbing history as sand collects water and then making an impression of it upon the mind of a sensitive soul only too willing to take it all in....

****

Her fingers caressed the soft, aged leather with tender consideration. As she gripped the saddle horn lightly in her hand, she smiled gently at the notion that she had grabbed him like this several times as well. Out of all of the artifacts in the beach front antique store, her attention was drawn to the old English saddle and now she stood molesting it sensually with her fingertips. She traced all of the fine lines and rubbed her leg against the scratchy cinch...

Suddenly she was transported to a green meadow, the wind in her hair, her legs swept to the side thoroughly incased in a long flowing gown. She did not have the reigns; however, he held them tightly next to her, an unknown man with ruffles at his neck and a ribbon in his hair led her horse from his own.

They cantered to a sparkling river where he grabbed her face roughly and kissed her hard and deep. He did not speak a word to her, he simply pulled her onto his horse, and over his lap so that her face was pressed up against his saddle, her arms draped helplessly towards the ground. He smoothed the silk fabric across her bottom as he swirled his hand lightly in circles over and over.

She felt like she should know this place, this man, but other than the familiarity that she felt to him she could not name him. She felt she could not move less the images disappear so she allowed herself to dangle over his hardening lap, her breasts spilling out over the top of the baroque neckline.

CRACK! His hand came down hard on her derriere and the horse reared a bit. Her heart began to pound with fear, with uncertainty, with untamed excitement. CRACK! A tightening in her chest and an impossible fire in her face and cheeks provoked a soft aching between her legs. CRACK! She bit her lip and.....

"Kelsey!" Still biting her lip she jumped to face him. "You looked a million miles away, come here and look at this old couch...it's got to be Victorian." Her teeth slowly released her own plump, pink bottom lip and she fairly floated over to the green velvet sofa that her Uncle was now contemplating all too aware that the ooze in her panties threatened to smear all over her legs. She self consciously pulled at her mini skirt, could he see or smell her little secret? "Look at the curve in that arm?" He pointed ecstatically.

"It's beautiful Uncle Joel, "she whispered as she knelt softly on the sofa by the arm and stroked it as one would stroke a leopard.

"I've told you a thousand times! Dinner is to be ready when I get home at precisely 6 o'clock!" he lectured as he pummeled her bottom with stinging spanks in quick succession.

"I..I..I'm sorry." She managed to gasp under his unrelenting barrage.

"Sorry just doesn't cut it anymore young lady! Maybe you'll remember with my hand print permanently emblazoned on your pink behind?!"

If it was possible he spanked faster and harder as he over enunciated the last few syllables and she was immediately embarrassed to realize that he was spanking her on her bare bottom, though something was dangling next to her legs. Her ribs were being sternly supported by a plain white corset and her hair she could feel was tumbling down her back in monstrously large curls.

As her feet pressed against the plush velvet of the settee, she could feel that she wore some sort of heeled boot. Not even the heels of the boot could keep her from pitching forward from each whack of his hand and soon she was supporting herself with her own hands on the floor as her bottom lifted more and more helplessly heavenward accompanied by her shamefully dripping sex.

She closed her eyes as she could feel that she would spill over any second and realized that his hand had taken a hold of her hip and that he was pressed up against her and pushing his way....

Her Uncle shook her hard, "Kelsey?! What were you thinking about?" He looked around nervously and then whispered, "For God sakes you were pressing yourself into the sofa...what are you doing?"

"Oh God, um...nothing Uncle Joel...sorry." She couldn't think of any excuse, she felt like it was just better to apologize and hoped he'd forget it.

She rushed off the couch and ran over and sat on a bed, an art deco piece with a fine walnut headboard. She needed somewhere to sit and fight back the building chaos in her loins.

She sat for several seconds just breathing and trying to think of something else, she imagined the red, meaty woman by the door wearing a bikini, then she imagined her jumping rope naked, wiry red curls bouncing with her floppy breasts and then....that was all it took, she was completely calm and threw herself back on the bed, a silly, shit eating grin on her face as she smiled at the frowning cow who eyed her suspiciously and then stuck her tongue out at her as she walked away.

"While playing off, a game of golf, I may make a play for the caddie...but when I do I don't follow through, cause my heart belongs to daddy..." she sang sweetly through half closed eyes, her feet swinging childishly behind her, feet up in the air, be-ruffled rump cheekily perched towards the ceiling, thigh high stockings each set off by a devilish little pink bow.

He smiled wistfully; completely bemused by her he giggled every few words and licked the lollypop that she waved in his face. God he was handsome, she thought to herself. His chiseled cheekbones, his dimpled chin, he was like Robert Mitchum and he smelled like orange water. "If I'd invite some boy some night to dine on my favorite wine and haddie, it's just a boast cause my daddy knows that my heart belongs to daddy..." She huskily crescendo-ed as she stuck the remainder of the lolly in his mouth and kissed his chest and bit his nipples.

"Little girls shouldn't sing those kinds of songs little missy..." he warned with a broad smile. In truth, Ella Fitzgerald was not allowed to be played on her phonograph at home and her father always shut the radio off when her songs came on, there was too much sensuality in her ballads, too much suggested for young girls to listen. She liked to listen to her records at her Uncle's house, he seemed to delight in her depravity.

"Oh I want to warn you laddie, gee but I think you're swell..." she licked down the center of his body, stopping to fondle his belly button with the tip of her tongue," but my heart belongs to daddy..." she kissed the tip of his hardening Johnson, "oh oh oh, my daddy, " and pulled it into her candy sweet mouth, "ooh ooh cause, my daddy he treats it so well..."she sank into her own basso and sucked voraciously at his willing plaything.

Though he relished her throaty singing and hungry sucking he pulled her up to his face and in mock disappointment wagged his finger in stern reprimand. "My little baby shouldn't be so naughty...Who's a naughty little baby?" he asked.

She giggled and said nothing. He snapped his hand down on her ruffles, "Answer me! Who's a naughty little girl?" He walloped her a few more times, and her little white bottom, peeking innocently from behind the lace curtains, turned cotton candy pink. "Answer me little girl, who's a naughty little devil?"

"Me!" She squealed with delight as she wrinkled her nose, ever the actress, and looked down at the ground to appear contrite.

"Then you know what to do little girl to receive your punishment that Uncle must now give you?" he patronized with just a hint of baby talk.

Without a word, she lay on her back, pointed her toes towards the ceiling and held the backs of her long legs with her sticky hands. Her head snuggled in the fluffy nest of her curly hair; she squeezed her lashes shut and waited for the first succulent blow, her cheeks hard with anticipation for the burn of his cruel but sensuously divine palms.

A hard slap to her own rump brought her out of the trance. "Go wait in the car Kelsey. I've had enough with your weird behavior, this isn't funny, any of it!"

Her uncle had never scolded her and had never sent her away from him so she cried as she slowly dropped her legs to the old bed mattress and swung them over the edge completely aware that most of the patrons had witnessed her little display. Angrily and in a last second attempt to get even with his strict treatment of her (she was 18 after all!) she pocketed a very expensive looking silver cigarette case, finely etched and marked with the initials EK.

Once in the car she smiled bitterly at her own adeptness and stuck the cigarette case in the back pocket of her mini skirt. Her Uncle came out to the car shortly after with a confused look on his face, he didn't know what to do with her, she was acting so strangely.

"Kelsey, I want you to tell me right now why you were doing all of those....queer things?!"

Kelsey pouted, "I don't know."

"What do you mean, you don't know? Of course you know and if you know what's good for you, you'll tell me right now." The color in his face darkened and the furrow between his brows deepened. She had never seen him like this.

"I...I...oh you don't understand!" she screamed like a child. She threw open her door and leapt out meaning to storm off. But whatever is hidden in the dark usually comes to the light and the cigarette case jumped out of her back pocket and banged against his car with the clanging of a church bell.

Her Uncle opened his door and walked around to the passenger side. He knelt down and picked up the stolen object and before he could say anything watched as Kelsey flew across the beach, running like she never had. He threw the case back to the ground and chased after her, even with his bad knee he easily caught her as she couldn't run very well in flip flops and indeed tripped over them several times.

He dove for her legs and took her down as he used to take down quarterbacks in his high school days. He pulled her to him by the back of her skirt, pulling some of it down as he reeled her in. He said nothing, she screamed as she tried to get away but there were no words between them.

He grabbed her by the collar of her shirt and half marched half yanked her to a rock over looking the sea. He pulled her over the rock, tore her panties clean off and spanked her, wailing his hand against her shrieking body.

Again and again he swiped her young bottom harder and harder until he saw that his fingers were causing welts to form on her now still cheeks. Huffing and puffing he stopped briefly, he was fully aroused and could not stop the sensation welling up inside of him, and he knew he should stop, take her home and send her to her room but he couldn't control himself. The sea, the crashing waves, the young, red ass that lay across his burgeoning lap, it was seducing him into the purgatorial kingdom of incestuous lust for his sweet niece.

He pushed her off his lap to the rock and crawled on top of her back. He bit each of her shoulders and lightly comforted each blistered cheek with a suddenly tender hand. She was crying but pressing into his hands and he knew from then on that he was hell bound with his niece driving the carriage.

He smacked first one cheek and watched her climb the rock a bit and then the other as he stuck his tongue in her ear. She shouted in ecstasy and tried to turn her head to kiss him. Their tongues met in a clumsy clamoring, a desperate reach for each other's mouth. They wanted to be inside every possible place all at once.

He stuck his trembling finger deeply between her legs and found what he knew would be there, the fountain of youth, bubbling up from the inside of a young girl, who knew very little about the world or men. He plunged himself deeper inside, relishing the wet, sweet, slick feminine fruit that she offered him.

Their breaths came faster; he moved his finger from her willing vagina to her totally virgin bottom and broke that barrier with a soft penetration of swirling and gentle prodding. Prepared for bigger things she accepted his penis into her rosebud bottom and stood completely still, her face pressed into the wet, sweating rock that smelled of fish and wind as he thrust inside her bowels with a desperate animal need.

As he pumped in and out of her sweet derriere he swathed his hand around her breasts, he kneaded them, he pinched them and with the other hand he fingered her flooded vagina until a moment when time and ocean and gulls froze in a continuum that reversed silently to their dimension, the world held its breath as they were released from the bonds of restraint and they came together... for each other.

Later he would pull her skirt down protectively over her hand printed bottom and stroke her back and kiss her hair and hold her hand as they walked back to the car. The waves continued their roll, carving out the seawall, the wind continued its toll on the grasses that grew thankfully where they could and the silver case would sit in a sandy treasure box waiting to be discovered again by another sensitive soul, only too willing to take it all in...

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AnonymousAnonymousover 16 years ago
A Tale of a Tail

Regardless of your erotic preference, this is a well written story that you must read. It's rich with images, fun and artistic imagination. I wish there were more stories of this caliber.

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