tagNonConsent/ReluctanceMystic Encounter

Mystic Encounter

byR_Peterson©

Molly had gotten up early that morning to start her drive down to the Bed and Breakfast. Her journey was taking her to an old country home found while surfing the WEB. She loved these romantic locations deep in the countryside. This one was especially interesting having been built in the mid 1800s by a wealthy southern farmer and his wife. The house reminded her of her grandparent's home and a host of good childhood memories. The fact that the WEB site hinted the house was haunted also tweaked her imagination.

Molly had made their reservations months earlier. It was a popular spot and they were lucky to get this weekend reservation since it was late October and the trees were scheduled to show their true colors that week. The drive would take her eight hours by herself; her husband was planning to fly into a nearby airport from Chicago and join her later that night.

What concerned her most was the storm. Last night, when Molly talked to her spouse, the conversation quickly turned to the hurricane churning out over the Atlantic. Yesterday the forecast had the storm staying out at sea and slowly moving northeast. Using that information they decided to make the trip. Now, five hours into the journey, the weather prediction had changed and the storm was moving quickly northwest, over land. Molly frowned as she watched the raindrops collect on her windshield.

Molly continued down the interstate, hoping that the weather forecast would be wrong. Two hours later the car veered off the state road and slowed down to negotiate the winding country back roads as the rain intensified.

Molly found the turnoff to the B&B without any problems. At first the road appeared to be good, but it quickly tightened and lost the smooth asphalt the auto had traveled on all day. The car felt like it was dropping, as in to a valley, as it moved. Coming to a turn in the road, the automobile moved slowly around the bend, and then stopped. In front of her was a bridge, but it was unlike any bridge she had seen before. What caught her attention was the lack of railing on the bridge. It was a solid cement bridge poured over a series of metal cylinders which allowed the river to flow under and wide enough to handle only one vehicle at a time. Molly put the car into gear and slowly moved across the bridge while holding her breath.

On the other side, Molly felt the car climbing as it moved away from the river. The old country dirt road was wide enough for one vehicle, needing to pass anyone would be tricky. She continued up the road, slowly, cautiously, pausing at each turn, not knowing what might be coming down the other direction. Finally a hard right in the road brought the auto to a large metal open gate. Stopping at the gate, she let her eyes take in the scene. In the distance a large southern style farmhouse came into view, Molly smiled.

From what Molly could see, it looked exactly like the pictures posted on the WEB. Three stories, old, large with a porch running completely around the house. She did love these old structures and knew that the two night stay they had planned was going to be great.

Molly drove up to the front of the old house and parked. It was four o'clock and she had had enough driving for the day. Getting out of the auto she ran to the porch while holding her arms over her head to deflect the rain. Standing on the porch Molly shook her head in an attempt to remove the droplets that had collected in her hair. Looking up she found two large oak doors. She opened one door and walked in.

To her right was a large sitting room decorated with furniture manufactured around the turn of the century. Molly preferred the old furnishings. Her eyes continued to survey the room, finally locating what she was searching for - a reception desk. After walking over to the desk and finding no one in sight, she tapped the receptionist bell.

The sound of the bell brought a woman from a backroom. The woman looked to be slightly older than Molly. Smiling she walked up to the desk. "Can I help you?"

"I have a two night reservation in the name of Peterson." Molly answered.

"Oh yes, Mr. and Mrs. Peterson, I see your reservation in the book. We thought that you might not be coming due to the storm. But here you are, and we are glad to have you. If you would, would you sign the registrar while I locate the keys?"

"I am expecting a call. Could you check to see if there are any messages for me?"

The woman turned to study the wooden boxes that lined the wall behind her. After looking closely into one box, she turned and said. "Sorry, I don't see any messages for you. If we get one later I will have it brought to you." Molly signed the book and as she looked up was met again with the smiling face of the older woman. The woman extended her hand. "Let me introduce myself. My name is Becky. My husband and I own this B&B and if there is anything we can do to make your stay more pleasant, please let us know."

"I am glad to meet you as well." She shook Becky's hand, "I'm Molly."

"Follow me and I will take you up to your suite and show it to you. Is your husband out at the car?"

"No, he is planning to fly in today and join me later."

"I do hope he makes it before the river rises any more."

"Speaking of the river, I couldn't help but notice that bridge?"

"Yes, it is a bit strange isn't it. Mind you, it's much better now we have the bridge. It use to be a ford years ago, over time it just got worn down so that crossing the river became harder. Since they built the bridge it's been much better."

"But it has no sides, isn't that dangerous?"

"Not at all, and it means the river doesn't dam up behind the bridge when it's in flood. Of course when it's really bad we lose the bridge for a few hours, but that's far better than being cut off for most of the winter."

"Are we okay with this storm coming?"

"Oh yes, this old house has weathered many a storm since it was built. It will protect you and keep you safe while you stay here." She answered with an understanding gaze. "Follow me please."

Becky walked to the back of the house toward a staircase, and continued up the stairs to the second floor. She stepped out into the hallway, turned right and proceeded to the end of the hall. Stopping at the doorway, Becky inserted the key, and pushed opened the door. Stepping back she raised her hand and gestured for Molly to enter first.

Molly walked through the entrance. She had seen the full house from what was posted on the WEB, but the pictures online hadn't done the B&B justice. It was much better in person. Molly walked passed the bathroom and into a larger space showcasing a king-sized four poster bed. Across the room was a stone fireplace that spanned both the bedroom and a small sitting room. At the far side of the room were two beautiful glass French doors that pushed out to a balcony. As Molly peered through the windows, she observed the heavy rain, and the trees being whipped about by the storm.

"This doesn't look good - it's getting worse out there isn't it?" Molly said while monitoring the intensity of the storm through the doors.

"I guess so – but you need not worry, you will be fine here," Becky answered, setting the keys down on the night table. She headed toward the door. "Dinner will be served between six and eight o'clock. Just come down when you are ready."

Molly took in a deep breath, looked out the window, taking in the storm, the room and her predicament all at once. She still had items to remove from the car before settling in for what appeared was going to be a long stormy night.

*** *** *** ***

Two hours later Molly wandered downstairs for dinner with a book tucked under her arm for company. She stepped into the dinning room and spotted a row of metal food warmers along the wall farthest from the foyer and figured it must be a buffet. Apart from a couple eating off to the right, there was no one else in the room. Molly helped herself to a plate and quickly created a meal for herself. She sat down to eat, opened her book, and started to read.

The book was a romance novel by one of her favorite authors. Within a few pages she had forgot about the storm outside, totally focused on the print, allowing only a few bites of food to interrupt her reading.

"Madam, do you need anything?"

Startled, Molly looked up from her book. Standing in front of her was a very handsome, young man who looked like he had come from an earlier era by the way he was dressed. His hair was thick black, longish, and in need of a cut. The pure white shirt had three top buttons missing. The collar and cuffs of the shirt were laced. A red bandana was clenched in his hand. He wore a pair of gray pants with military strips running down the side of each leg. She sensed a pleasant masculine smell that surrounded him. It was the riding boots that appeared most out of place, stopping just under his knees and covered with mud. But the softness of his green eyes put Molly as ease.

"Madam, my name is Nathan, and I am at your service if you need me."

"Thank you, but I am almost finished with my meal and I do not need anything right now." Molly answered.

He looked up and away from her, as if he heard something, and then said, "You have a call at the desk waiting for you."

"Oh thank you." She answered, replacing the page marker, and closing the book upon the table. When she looked up, he was gone. "Wow, where did he disappear to?"

Molly glanced quickly around the room, noting that the couple dining at the other table had also disappeared. She had been so engrossed in her book and hadn't even noticed their departure. Standing up, Molly took her book, and headed out of the dinning room to the reception desk. Becky was behind the counter, talking on the phone, when she looked up and caught Molly approaching the desk.

"Is there a call for me?" Molly asked.

Becky's expression turned to total surprise. She did not speak right away, and then pulled the phone from her ear saying, "Yes, this call is for you. How did you know?"

"Your waiter Nathan told me." Molly said as she took the phone from Becky.

"Hello – Hi Babe, are you still coming in tonight?" She said as a smile appeared across her lips. But, the smile disappeared just as quickly as it came. "Ohhhhh, what happened? The airport is closed – Oh damn! When can you get in then? Tomorrow night – after the storm passes. What am I going to do without you tonight?" Another smile crossed her face. "I can't do that, but I'll let that be your fantasy – that should motivate you to arrive early tomorrow. Okay, if you've got to run, you've got to run – love you too! Bye." She ended the conversation and handed the phone back to Becky.

Becky still had a look of shock etched on her face as she wordlessly took the phone from Molly and rested it back on its cradle. Her eyes took on a furtive glint as she glanced quickly round the foyer before walking around the reception counter. Her hand lifted to Molly's elbow and gently guided her to the sitting area.

"Did you say his name was Nathan?"

Molly stared at Becky quizzically. "Yes, he said Nathan."

"We don't have any waiters and we do not have anyone working here by the name of Nathan." Becky answered. "But we do have a ghost named Nathan."

"A ghost? He was not a ghost. That was a real man." Molly said and then proceeded to described Nathan in detail to Becky.

Becky sat down, looked deeply into Molly's eyes, took a measured breath, and started to tell Molly the story about Nathan.

"Nathan Daniel was born 1836 to a rich family that raised tobacco. He took a wife when he was twenty-five. After one year of marriage he joined the Confederacy to go off and fight in the war. He was away from the farm and his spouse for four long years until the war's end. On his return to this very house he found his wife in bed with another man. He killed them both and then killed himself. A number of Nathan sightings have been reported over the years. Each person described the same man, down to his boots."

Molly listened respectfully to Becky's story. She really was more interested in getting back to her book.

Becky finished her story and then added. "All the stories that I have heard have come from women who have seen him." Becky let a large smile come over her face before she added. "He left a lasting impression on each of them."

Becky did not say another word, but instead stood up and walked out of the room leaving Molly to her own imagination. Molly returned to her book, but found that she could not concentrate on her reading. Her mind kept wondering back to Nathan. Molly closed the book and decided to take a bath, and go to bed early in hope that the storm would pass quickly.

*** *** *** ***

Molly lit the fireplace in the bedroom, sending a soft glow flickering across the walls. She walked into the sitting room, struck a match, and started three candles. Taking one candle in hand she entered the bathroom, found and lit four other candles. Molly had decided that using candles and the fireplace would be more relaxing and less obtrusive if the power went out. In the bathroom was an old style iron bathtub that was raised off the floor by four metal legs. The tub was deep and would take some time to fill. She opened the tap, checked to make sure the water was not too hot, and let the water run while stepping back into the bedroom to change.

Molly had removed her skirt and was in the process of removing her blouse when she heard someone call her name.

"Mollllyyyyyyyyy."

It sounded more like the wind than her name, but it did cause her to pause. Standing still, all that could be heard was the wind from the storm brewing outside. Returning to her task, she removed the remaining street clothes and replaced them with a robe. Molly walked into the bathroom, picked up the brush and started to comb her hair in the mirror. As the brush moved through her hair, the belt came undone, allowing the robe to open, exposing her nakedness. She continued to brush her hair and felt some very cold air enter her bathrobe and cover her body. It caused her nipples to become pronounced. Her skin shivered as the cold air moved between her legs. . Moving away from the sink Molly stopped combing her hair, took off the robe, and stepped into the tub. The hot water felt good to her skin and warmed her. She lowered her body into the water, sat, and laid her head back. It was a long day and the water helped to relax her tired body. Lying still, her eyes gradually closed.

Molly had almost drifted off to sleep, when suddenly she felt a hand on her breast and promptly opened her eyes. Her eyes surveyed the room and saw nothing. Certain someone had touched her, and now shaken, she decided to wash up and get to bed. Thinking that the storm might be making her jittery, or maybe that story about Nathan, she grabbed a small washcloth and bar of soap, and quickly started to run the soap over her body. Molly shifted onto her knees, to kneel in the water, when she was ready to scrub her back. The washcloth was moving over her breast when she felt a hand run down her back and over her ass. Turning quickly to look, no one was there.

Molly hurried to finish her bath. Using a towel she quickly dried herself, jumped into a pair of jeans, found a cotton shirt to put on, before drying her hair. She had a strange feeling someone was watching. But as her eyes scanned the room, only the storm could be seen moving through the windows. It felt creepy. Wanting early to go to bed, Molly was now too nervous to sleep, so the decision was made to return to her reading.

Barefoot, wearing only jeans and a shirt, Molly walked over to a sofa adjacent to the bed. Sitting, she turned on the light, opened her book and started to read. About ten pages into the book the lights started to flicker and suddenly went out. Her eyes were still adjusting to the darkness when she heard her name whispered from across the room – Molly. Standing up, Molly walked in the direction of the sound. Without warning she felt an arm wrap around her waist and a hand across her mouth.

"Do not fight and you will not get hurt." It was a male's voice. "Do you understand?"

Molly shook her head in agreement. She was too scared to do anything else but agree.

He held her tight as he pushed her toward the French doors. The storm came into sharp focus as she moved closer to the windows. Her arms were lifted above her shoulders as two heavy cords descended, almost magically, from each side of the curtain rod above the doorway. The ropes were like snakes that rapped around her wrists holding her firmly in the air and on her toes.

He released his grip, allowing her to hang from the ropes. Molly was now looking through the doors out into the storm, still held firmly by the ropes. Every few seconds a flash of lighting would light up the night and she could see the trees thrashing about in the wind while the rain flew across the balcony. The violence witnessed both scared and excited her. Feeling her heart beat faster, Molly stared out into the hurricane.

Molly hung from the cords while the storm vented its anger outside. She wiggled her arms, trying to free her wrists from the cords, but the lines held firm. Her eyes were focused on the rain hitting the window when his hands came in contact with her ass. They moved in circles over the material and then firmly moved out over her hips. Molly felt his fingers move forward, making their way to the front of her jeans. She looked down, but saw nothing.

The button on her jeans popped open and then the zipper slowly opened. The top of her pants moved away from her waist and her eyes widened as she understood what was about to happen. Her pants jerked open and were pulled down her legs. Molly eyed the material draped around her feet, her exposed legs, and her very exposed cunt. She started to scream.

Molly was yelling, as her pants were pulled from her feet and thrown to the side, leaving her naked from the waist down. Continuing to scream she watched a thin strip of red cloth float across her face and move between her lips. The cloth moved around her head to the back of her neck. The material was dragged into her mouth and tied. With the gag firmly in her mouth, the storm drowned out her screams as she hung, twisting from the ropes.

His hands came into contact with her again, now on the small of her back. They slowly moved around her waist, up and over the shirt until they came to her chest. She could feel his touch through the material as he gripped each soft mound under the fabric. Then, almost as if in anger, the buttons flew off the shirt. The cloth slid away from her body to reveal her charms to the storm. She looked into the glass doors and viewed her full naked body in the reflection.

Molly saw the red gag in her mouth, her breasts heaving in the reflection, her legs dangling in the air, and the total fear in her own eyes. His unseen hands returned to her body, walking their way up to her breasts. Each set of fingers played with a nipple, she felt his lips on her neck. Looking into the reflection of the glass again, her eyes widened. It was Nathan!

The French doors abruptly flew open as she remained hanging from the cords. The storm was now upon her as the rain whipped through the open doors and onto her exposed body. The rain was warm and tropical. The wind sent the rain racing across her face, onto her body, down over her breasts, and between her legs. It was as if the storm had taken over making love to her.

Molly hung there, unable to move, as the storm molested her body. The rain played with her nipples as the wind moved in between her legs and found her clit. She had the feeling that this violent storm was now taking her, driving her to orgasm. Her skin was enjoying the feelings this storm was unleashing upon her exposed body.

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byR_Peterson© 5 comments/ 63042 views/ 13 favorites

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