Haunting of Heather Ch. 01

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Vengeful spirit takes revenge on the 'other' woman.
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Couture
Couture
3,825 Followers

Please do not read if under 18 years of age or offended by sexually explicit stories and situations.

* Hi, my name is Pussy Kat, and yes, that is my legal name now, but it wasn't always so. You see, before my new life began my name used to be Heather Longly and I was employed as an Account Rep at Baum and Denslow.

It was there I met Bill, a very handsome and very married co-worker. We were always friendly and then one day I was assigned to a special project with Bill. He began a little harmless flirting with me, and soon we were both playing a twisted game of tennis in our flirtations, batting touches and plays on words and lustful looks, instead of bright green balls.

What was the harm? He was married and unavailable and I didn't date co-workers. I should have stopped it right there, but I grew to like him as a friend and eventually we started taking our lunches together. It was during one of these lunches that I began to learn of his loveless marriage, to a wife who strayed to extremes in personality. According to Bill, she would be almost manic in her need to control him both emotionally and sexually.

I could understand emotional control, because I had used it a time or two to get what I wanted at work. However, I couldn't understand how a woman could sexually control a man, so I asked Bill about it and he just blushed and said, he didn't want to talk about it.

Bill said he had tried to leave her before, but she had threatened to kill herself. He never tried to leave again, but another wedge had been driven into their relationship. He had even stopped having sex with her, because he was afraid to bring a child into that kind of environment. Besides, he didn't really consider it making love, but rather being forced to do uncomfortable things for her pleasure. That was enough to make me admire his compassion and dedication tremendously. I felt compelled to tell him of my dreams, of becoming a writer; something that others I had told only scoffed at or dismissed as flights of fancy. However, Bill actually listened. Bill continued to flirt playfully with me, but I no longer could respond with my quick comebacks. "Cat got your tongue?" he would say.

I could only blush in response.

Then one day as we were leaving to go home, Bill offered to walk me to my car. As I opened my door, I felt his hand on my shoulder. I turned around to see him looking deeply into my eyes.

"Heather, I think I love you," he said, as he leaned in to kiss me.

I knew it was wrong, but I melted in his embrace. Our tongues danced, and I felt his hardness press against my belly. A battle of little voices raged in my head. Why does he have to be married? Come on, you are so hot, people do this all the time. What about the consequences? What will it hurt? He doesn't love her. She will find out and you will get in trouble. I love him.

"Let's go to my place," I said, still not believing the words had come out of my mouth.

I had never done anything so bold before, but I knew I had to have him. On the way there, I was so scared my voice trembled as I gave him directions to my apartment. We were both silent as we rode the elevator up to my apartment.

"I don't know what to say Bill, I've never done anything like this before," I said, fumbling with my keys, as I tried to unlock my door.

"Neither have I," he said.

As soon as we entered the apartment and the door was closed, Bill pushed me against the door and kissed me. He rubbed his hands all over my body, disrobing me as he went. I tried to grind my hot sex against his hardness, but he stopped me.

"Please, we can't leave any evidence," he said, as he took his clothes off and folded them neatly on the chair. He laid me down on the couch, then made love to me. As he thrust into me, I could feel him stiffen. I hugged him close with my arms and legs, as I felt him twitch inside me with release.

He kissed me and hugged me after his climax. Too soon, he stood up and took the condom off, tying it in a knot and leaving it on the coffee table.

He looked at me laying naked as he dressed. I laid there Naked. Trying to look sexy, because a part of me wanted him to stay, though I knew he couldn't. And part of me feeling like I had crossed some line I shouldn't have.

"Sorry, Heather, but I have to go home. At least for now," he said. I looked into his eyes and could see the regret written in the lines of his face. I got up and gave him a chaste kiss as he left out the door.

Yes Bill, your wife has a piece of paper, but I have you, I thought, as I felt the weight of his condom, before throwing it away.

This went on for the rest of October, until Halloween night. Then disaster struck at the Halloween party at work. He had come dressed as the Cowardly Lion and his wife Olivia had come dressed as a witch. I was a little jealous, because she was still pretty even in her black pointy hat and cape. Her skirt was long and black and hugged her narrow waist tightly, but what really made the outfit, were the tall high heels and black opera gloves.

Fortunately, I was prepared for anything she had to dish out. I was wearing a black cat costume that Bill had helped me pick out. The costume itself was quite simple, consisting of only a form fitting black body stocking, attached tail, and a hair-band with two furry ears attached. It body suit covered me completely, but displayed every curve of my body. I had never worn anything like that before, especially around people at work. I had always been a rather shy girl, but I kept my body in shape and actually was glad to be wearing the cute costume, when I saw Bill's wife.

At the time, I felt so superior to her. At the end of the night, I was sure Bill would remember her as the evil witch bitch and me as the cute sweet little kitten.

However, knowing she was there, made Bill and me uneasy. We drank way more than we should have. However, while his wife was occupied talking with some other women, Bill caught my eye and motioned for me to follow him.

He took me away from the party and into one of unused offices. "You looked so sexy tonight I just had to see you," he said pressing his body close to mine. "We shouldn't do this," I protested, but I was already kissing him. I could feel my nipples harden with arousal, by the very danger of the situation. It was then that disaster struck. I will never forget the rage and betrayal on Olivia's face, when she turned on the light.

"You are not to come home tonight bastard, stay with your . . . " she sneered, looking at me as if I were trash. " . . .Pussy." she finished.

Her truth of bitter comments stung me deep inside. What on earth possessed me to wear this costume?

Suddenly, I didn't feel so sexy anymore. I felt like a common whore and I looked like one too. I took off my furry little cat ears, but the tail was sewn to the suit. It followed me around, drawing attention to my bottom with every step. As if to say, look everyone, look at the ass of the mistress.

I went home alone and Bill spent the night in a motel. The next morning at work, he had entered my cubicle with tears in his eyes. "She killed herself last night," he sobbed.

"Dear god, what happened?" I asked, my body suddenly going numb.

"She slit her wrists in the bathtub," he cried, his face red as tears fell down his face. "The maid found her this morning."

I hugged him and he wept on my shoulder. I began to cry too, remembering the look she had given me the night before. It was as though she saw through all the civility and manners I hid behind, and saw the slut that was sleeping with her husband.

They held her funeral two days later. I didn't attend. How could I have looked at her, knowing that I had been responsible for her death.

Bill and I couldn't didn't talk after that. It was our dirty secret, a secret we couldn't share with anyone, not even each other. I tried to avoid places I might see him, because looking at him brought back memories. Memories I tried to forget.

It was then, that things started to happen. Things would disappear, then reappear where I had just looked. I started to hear strange noises in my apartment, like doors opening and closing. When I dreamed, it was of Olivia glaring at me or bleeding to death in her bathtub.

My work began to suffer. I was chronically late, because my alarm clock wouldn't go off or my keys would be misplaced. My toothbrush would taste horrible, I suspected maybe someone was doing something to it while I was at work, so I tried putting it in a plastic bags and hiding underneath the towels. However, when I took it out, I noticed that it was blue, just like the toilet water. Finally, I bought a bunch, kept them in my purse, and threw it away after using it.

One night, after a particularly long day at work, I fixed myself a glass of wine and prepared to unwind with a luxurious bath. I ran a bath, complete with bubbles, candles and soft music. I took off my clothes, and stepped into the wonderfully hot water. I relaxed in the tub dozing lightly. Suddenly I awoke with a start. The bathroom and water felt freezing cold. Chill bumps covered my breasts. I could see my breath as I exhaled. I pulled the drain plug, then glanced up to find my towel.

On the fog covered mirror, I began to see letters forming, as if they were written by an invisible finger.

P-U-S-S-Y

I tried to scream, but I couldn't get any sound to come out of my throat. I scrambled to get out of the bathtub to flee this haunted place, nude as I was.

As I tried stood to get out of the tub, "Pussy . . . " The sound came from in front of my face, but there was nothing there! I jumped back at the sound and huddled against the wall of the shower. My body shut down in fright, I couldn't scream or move. The contents of my bladder ran down my legs.

"We really must see about getting you toilet trained," the unseen female voice said, followed by maniacal laughter. To my horror my hairdryer was floating above the bathtub. "Sit back down in the tub Pussy, or you will join me in death," the sinister voice whispered from in front of me.

This is not possible. This is not possible, some distant part of me screamed, but I sat back down in the tub as ordered. The smell of my urine was strong in my nostrils. The voice, it was slightly familiar. Where had I heard it before? The hatred in it was palpable.

"Take the mirror beside you and hold it up." I heard the voice say.

Trembling, I picked up the mirror and looked into the glass. Numb fingers unclenched, and it shattered on the floor. The sound of breaking glass tinkling on the tiled floor passed in and out my ears, ignored. I began to hyperventilate at the face I'd seen in the reflection.

Olivia!

"We begin to understand each other now, don't we bitch?" said the voice of Olivia. "Imagine my surprise, catching my husband kissing a Pussy at the Halloween party. The look in his eyes told me everything I needed to know.

I went home that night and slashed my wrists to end my misery. My head was filled with hate for the person . . . the Pussy that ruined my life. My awareness slowly faded away with every drop of my blood. That should have been the end of it, but when I became aware again . . . I was stuck here watching you." Olivia said.

Watching me? How much had she seen me do? What about when I . . . dear God no!

"I've tried to leave you many times, but every time I do, I fade away, only to become aware of myself again . . . right back in your presence. At first, I could only watch helplessly. But lately, I have begun to be able to move things, to touch you when you sleep, and to be able to make you hear me."

The things that moved at night! The dreams! My toothbrush! Suddenly things were beginning to make sense.

"Now I'm left with this extremely difficult choice. I can kill you and cut the strings trapping me here on this world, but probably sending my soul straight to hell in the process. For all I know this may be my hell."

Kill me? I felt emptiness inside as if my heart had been wretched out of my chest. My bladder tried to void again, but it was empty. "Please, please, I'm so sorry Olivia. Don't kill me . . . I don't' want to die!" I cried helplessly.

I only heard the sound of her heartless laughter as she finished speaking. "Then I realized there was another choice. See, I could take my revenge on you and Bill. Then I can have a little enjoyment while I'm stuck here with the Pussy. Yes, I could have a heavenly time with that."

"Please, please, Olivia. I didn't mean for it to happen. I don't even see Bill anymore. I never will again, I promise," I begged the ruthless spirit.

"Please, anything just leave me be."

"The Pussy will spread her legs. I want to see the cunt of the slut that fucked my husband!"

The thought of being so helpless before this vengeful ghost terrified me. I was afraid that if she saw my sex, the pussy that fucked her husband, she would fly into a rage and kill me.

"Please, I'm not a slut. I've only been with two men in my life," I tried to reason with her, but one of the candles floated in the air and dumped its hot wax on my breasts. "Owwww!" I screamed.

"Pussies that don't obey will be punished!" Olivia cackled.

I tried to wipe the red trails of burning wax, from my breasts, but I only spread it making it worse. I looked at all the candles burning in the bathroom, thinking of how much pain they could cause. I spread my legs widely, exposing myself, baring the most intimate part of my body, to this evil spirit.

Cold body wash was dumped onto my sex, then a razor floated menacingly toward my crotch. "Please, please don't cut me. I'm begging you." I sobbed as tears flowed down my cheeks.

"The Pussy needn't fear -- if she obeys." Olivia said.

I closed my eyes and prayed as the razor slid over my sex. As I lay there, spread open before the dead wife of my lover, a terrible thing happened: To my horror, my body had begun to react. My labia were swollen and secretions dripped from my sex. I closed my eyes and turned away, while the razor bared my lower lips and trimmed the patch above.

Why me? Why me? Why is my body betraying me, before the wife of my lover. In my mind, I could imagine my clit sticking out, proving to her the kind of a slut I really was. I was the kind of slut who slept with a married man, the kind of slut who gets aroused by his wife.

I felt relieved, when she cleaned the soap off my sex with a washcloth. I looked down at her handiwork. My lips had been shaven bare, but my dark pubes were now trimmed in a circle topped by two ears. Dear god! She's trimmed it into a cat -- a pussycat.

"Open it now. I want to see all of it," Olivia demanded.

I brought my fingers down and spread my labia for the evil spirit. I was humiliated with the knowledge, that she would see that I was turned on.

"Is the Pussy horny?" she asked, the venom practically dripping from her voice when she said horny.

"No," I said as I shook my head blushing.

"Aiiiieeee!" I screamed as I felt the shock of molten wax burn my sex. I tried to wipe the hot wax from my tender lips, but I felt her cold bony fingers holding my hands away. I squirmed uselessly in the tub in agony.

Finally, the pain began to subside. The only sounds in the bathroom were my sobs and ragged breath.

"Pussies mustn't lie. Open it again, for your new owner!" Olivia demanded.

I had never felt so utterly helpless before. She had said owner! I glanced down at my humiliating position. Yes, she was my owner and I was a captive . . . a slave to this invisible spirit. My legs opened again and tenderly, to avoid the splashes of wax, I parted the delicate petals of my pink flower. "Is the Pussy horny?" Olivia asked, as if she were talking to a child.

"Yes ah I-I'm horny!" I replied meekly. Just please don't get mad again.

"Yes, the Pussy is horny Mistress," she corrected me sternly.

"Yes, the Pussy is horny Mistress," I replied. What was worse, was that I really was horny. My clit stuck out obscenely from my spread sex. Wherever in the room Olivia was, I'm sure she could see the nectar begin to drip from the pink folds of my pussy.

"I bet the Pussy would like something inside her needy cunt, wouldn't she?" Olivia asked, her voice sweet, but slightly patronizing, once again.

If I had learned nothing else tonight, I had learned to answer and obey Olivia without hesitation. "Yes Mistress, the P-Pussy would like s-something in her cunt," I sobbed.

"The Pussy may get out of the tub now."

I got out of the tub, dried off, then picked up a robe . . . "Aigh!" I cried looking down to see my nipple being pinched between invisible fingers and then pulled away from my body.

"The Pussy shall remain naked in this house." Olivia said, twisting my nipple to emphasize her point.

I cried out in pain from her mistreatment of my sensitive orbs, but quickly dropped the robe. Her pinch slackened, but did not release. Then she pulled me forward by my nipple, leading me like a beast through my apartment.

I was led by my nipple, past the open blinds of my apartment, into my dining room. "The blinds!" I cried out in embarrassment.

"What's wrong? The Pussy was so eager to show off her charms at the party," Olivia said, as she tugged my nipple in a circle, causing me to pirouette for anyone who might be looking.

Then she led me over to the dining room table. "Here hold this, until I come back." She pinched my nipple and pulled it up.

Hesitantly, I reached and took my nipple from her grasp. It was hard and shots of pleasure shot through my body as I grasped it. I burned with humiliation as I stood there, obediently holding my breast stretched out into the air for her. However, as much as I hated to admit it, my body yearned for me to touch the other one.

I watched in horror, as the small end of one of the decorative gourds in a Halloween arrangement in the center of the table, began to point into the air. The green and white-striped fruit, looked perversely like a penis sticking up.

"I believe the Pussy was saying she needed something to stick in her needy cunt." A vase spontaneously exploded, when she said the word cunt. I jumped in fear at this display of her anger. "She will do it on her own or I will do it for her in another hole."

"Please Mistress, please." I pleaded with the cold- hearted bitch. I trembled in fear and humiliation at the thought of performing such an intimate act in front of her. However, having the large knotty bulbous fruit up my ass wasn't an option. I bent over to pick up the gourd.

"The Pussy knows what to do with it. She will do it in front of the living-room widow, so she can learn the embarrassment and humiliation I endured at the party." There was no sympathy in her voice, just the coldness of revenge. Nor could I look in her eyes to see any of my pleading softened her.

Tears filled my eyes again, at the hopelessness of my situation. "Please, not the in front of the window, someone might see. Please, Mistress, I'll do anything." I begged.

"The Pussy has a choice. She will stick her new friend in her cunt in front of the window or I ram it up her ass, so hard she will have to wear diapers to work. The Pussy has three seconds to decide."

"Three"

"Two"

I grabbed a chair from the table and Olivia took my nipple from my fingers and led me in front of the window. I followed her, clutching the gourd to my chest. It was a large, dry, bumpy gourd and I knew without a doubt, I didn't want it in my ass. I sat down in the chair and tried not to think about the uncovered window. I began to insert the small end of the gourd in my sex. It wasn't long until I could feel my wetness flow. I looked out over the New York skyline and the rain running down the glass, I wondered who could see me, apparently sitting there by myself, fucking my cunt with this yellow and green phallus.

Couture
Couture
3,825 Followers
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