tagNonHumanOf Girls and Ghosts

Of Girls and Ghosts


Based upon the ideas and written at the suggestion of story_freak, for his pleasure and yours.

Pausing for a moment to stare up at the towering double doors of the school which rose before her, Mary heaved a great sigh. Today she would endure within those walls another eight hours of rejection and ridicule as she had for nearly two months since arriving in Germany. She wished as she had many times before that she was still back in Maryland, surrounded by the friends she had known all her life. Moving to Europe had been the worst thing that could have happened to her; she knew no one and had even fewer friends. Just last week, Mary had celebrated her 18th birthday at home with her parents. Sweet and understanding as they were, the evening spent with the aging couple fell painfully short of her expectations.

Taking a deep breath, Mary began the long trek up the stone stairs to the school, where she was quickly lost amid a sea of students. No one spoke to her, and the few that glanced her way glared at her; some even called her names and teased her. For Mary was exceptionally bright, and nearly at the top of her class. Being pretty also, though not remarkably beautiful, she was both envied and scorned by the other girls.

Sitting alone at lunch as usual, Mary pushed her food idly around her plate and stared off into space. She was daydreaming about being kissed by that cute boy in her grade--Mikhail, that was his name--when she suddenly became aware that someone was calling her name.

"Maaaary," called one of the girls from the next table. Mary's head snapped up in surprise, and the others snickered. It was Julia, another student from her grade. Mary frowned in confusion; Julia was one of the most popular girls in school. She was also one of the prettiest, with long glossy blond hair, wide blue eyes and alabaster skin. As she sat beckoning, Mary noticed with a twinge of jealousy that Julia's pretty shirt was cut low to reveal her ample cleavage. Mary herself was small breasted.

"Well? Are you going to come over and sit with us or not?" Julia demanded impatiently in accented English. Startled, Mary rose obediently and carried her tray over to the next table. Several girls scooted their chairs over to made room for her. Mary sat down wordlessly.

"So, Mary," Julia said, "I always see you sitting alone at lunch. Don't you have any friends?" The other girls giggled quietly, but Julia silenced them with a glare.

Mary shook her head, staring silently at her plate as though chastised. She wished she could sink into the floor.

"Well," Julia said firmly, "I think you and I could be friends. Would you like that, Mary?"

Mary glanced up at Julia's face and found her smiling down at her warmly. Her pretty blue eyes showed no sign of guile or dishonesty. Mary nodded, saying softly, "That would be nice."

Julia's smile broadened. "Excellent! I'm sure all the other girls would be happy to welcome you into our little group. But first, there is something you must do." She paused for dramatic effect.

Oh great, here it comes, thought Mary. The part where Julia laughs at me and says she'd never be friends with a loser like me.

At Mary's silence, Julia continued. "The rest of the group needs to know that you will be a brave, loyal friend. I know you will, but there are some here who are not so sure." Here she paused again and glared round the table at a number of girls. "So, in order for you to join our group, you must prove yourself by spending a night with us in the Castle Richtstag."

Mary looked up, startled. Foreigner though she was, even she had heard of that old abandoned place--everyone knew it was haunted. Why did the girls want to spend a night there, of all places? Still, she needed friends desperately, and could hardly afford to say no. "Sure. Name the day and I'm there," Mary replied, hoping she sounded more confident than she felt.

Julia smiled slowly. "Tomorrow night at eleven o'clock. Meet us in the rear so no one sees you--we'll be waiting just inside the cemetary gate." She rose suddenly, and all the other girls followed suit. "Until then, Mary."

Mary watched her go. Her head swam with confusion and fear, but her desire for friendship won out over both of them; she resolved at that moment to go through with the dare.


All that day and the next, Mary's head was filled with thoughts of the strange encounter with Julia and her friends, mingled with frightful images of the ancient, abandoned castle toward which she was now headed. She had managed to convince her parents that she had become friends with a classmate and was spending the night at the girl's place. Once out of the house, she dashed out to the main drag and hailed a taxi. Now she stared out of the window at the darkened streets, wet with rain, her heart pounding. When she arrived at her destination, a block from the old castle, she paid the driver and crept cautiously out of the taxi, pillow and sleeping bag clutched tightly to her chest.

Mary sprinted the distance to the cemetary. She tossed her things over the iron fence and hauled herself over after them, landing unsteadily on her feet in the mud. Julia and several other girls waited in the shadows. Mary could smell cigarette smoke.

"Well, so you've come," said Julia approvingly, advancing into the dim light. She was wearing a tight, low-cut top and a very short pair of cut-off denim shorts that clung to her shapely ass cheeks. In her right hand she held a cigarette; in her left, a half-empty bottle of vodka. This she offered to Mary who, eager to fit in, took a swig of the powerful stuff and swallowed it, coughing. Julia chuckled. "Shall we go inside?"

"Where are the other girls?" asked Mary, retrieving her fallen belongings. Though she could not fill out a shirt as well as Julia, she knew as she bent down that her own ass looked round and shapely beneath her plaid cotton miniskirt.

Julia made a dismissive motion with her hand. "They'll show up later, I hope. If not, they're definitely out of the group. Wimps." She hoisted an overnight bag up onto her shoulder and led the others towards the door. "C'mon, girls, let's go."

Mary followed the girls into the dark castle. It was a small building, as castles go, but had once housed a baron or something like that--Mary couldn't remember the precise details. All she really knew was that it had been abandoned for more than a century and had in that time fallen into disrepair; for one reason or another, no one had yet attempted to repair it.

Just inside the door (which Julia had skillfully jimmied open), several of the girls produced flashlights, which they shined about the room. Before them was a narrow staircase: corridors stretched off into the gloom on either side.

"We'll take the back stair up to the main level," explained Julia. "There's a great hall near the front: we can sleep in there." She began to climb the staircase. Mary followed while the other girls brought up the rear.

Julia was climbing quickly, seemingly eager to reach the hall. Mary soon lost sight of her, but found her again when she reached the top of the staircase. She had rushed down a long broad corridor to a door on the far side. "It's in here!" she said excitedly.

Mary moved to join her, but suddenly something shoved her hard, and she fell to her knees. A moment something heavy came crashing down over her head, and Mary fell senseless to the carpeted floor.


When she came to, Mary found herself lying on a cold stone slab, much like the alter of the Catholic church back home. She was in a large hall, lit from the far end by a roaring fire which blazed in a great hearth. Above her, vaulted ceilings stretched away into the gloom; even the walls on either side of her were too distant to make out in the dim light. Beside the hearth, firelight glinted off a wide assortment of weaponry: swords, axes, spears, daggers, and other arms stood shining beside shields and ancient coats of armor. Mary wondered that these valuable relics had remained untouched since the castle's abandonment long ago.

Her head ached. She tried to rise, but something held her down to the table. With a start, Mary realized her wrists and ankles were locked in heavy iron shackles. They secured her spread-eagled to the stone, allowing her only a few inches of movement. Mary's heart pounded in sudden terror.

"Hello?" she cried out. "Julia?"

Only silence answered her.

"Let me go," she demanded, her voice wavering in fear. "You've had your fun, now damnit--let me GO!"

At first there was only silence. Then Mary heard a brief dull clank from the far end of the room. She raised her head, struggling vainly to see what had made the sound, but could see nothing. Moments ticked by. Then, just as Mary was about to scream for help, a voice broke the heavy stillness.

"Silence, Mary." It was a man's voice, and seemed to come from out of the very shadows. "Cease your struggling."

"Who are you?!" the helpless girl demanded, ignoring the command and struggling wildly to free herself from her bonds.

"You know who I am," replied the deep voice. Suddenly, one of the glittering swords appeared, hovering above her, though Mary could not see the hands which held it aloft. She cried out in fear as the sword descended, though it tore not through flesh but clothing: with one quick stroke, her skirt and shirt fell away. She now lay in her bra and panties, though in a moment, these too had been dispatched with two quick slices of the razor-sharp blade.

Mary let out a scream, but abruptly into her open mouth, unseen hands thrust a heavy, foul cloth, muffling the sound. In moments, the gag had been secured behind her head. Now, the best Mary could do was moan, but even that sound was muffled by the thick fabric.

Her thin, lithe form struggled vainly against the bonds, pulling this way and that, desperate to escape. Her little breasts shook with the effort; the tiny nipples, hardened from the cool air, stood out from the small pale mounds. Suddenly, empty handless leather gloves appeared above her and descended onto her exposed tits, groping the firm flesh. Mary moaned in horror as they pinched her nipples between the stiff fingers, rolling and pulling them until they ached.

A thumping sound drew Mary's attention away from the assault on her breasts; she lifted her head, anticipating some new horror with widened, fearful eyes. As she stared, a broom which leaned against the fireplace rose into the air and sailed across the room to where she lay. To Mary's dismay, it hovered for a moment between her thighs, then suddenly began to slap against her exposed pussy with its coarse bristles.

Pain coarsed through Mary's tender young cunt as the broom beat her again and again. Her lips reddened and swelled; her thighs ached. Invisible hands pulled back her hood and exposed her tiny clit to the painful lashings. Mary screamed against the gag and thrashed wildly to no avail. Throughout this torture, the empty gloves continued to maul her sore breasts and tug at her tender nipples.

Then all at once the beating stopped. Mary would have cried out with joy, if at that moment the wooden handle of the broom had not plunged deep into her dry, virgin pussy.

Even the heavy gag could not muffle the scream as Mary's tight cunt was violated for the first time. The broom handle tore away her hymen as it plowed into her, disregarding her cries of pain. It bottomed out in her tiny pussy, then pulled back out only to ram back in once more. Blood from her torn hymen leaked out around the wooden handle, providing a sort of crude lubricant which made the broom's violation somewhat easier. Again and again it pounded into her, moving faster and pushing harder with each stroke.

The gloves on Mary's titties began to slap the jiggling mounds painfully. As the abuse continued, a pattern emerged; first the squelch Mary's pussy on the inward stroke of the broom handle, proceeded by a slap across her right tit, then a sucking noise as her vaginal cavity was vacated, followed by a slap on her left tit. The sounds combined to create an ever-quickening rhythm: squelch, slap, suck, slap, squelch, slap, suck, slap. All the while, Mary's faint sobs echoed through the hall.

At last the broom handle withdrew entirely from Mary's pussy. The hole remained open for a few moments, having been thoroughly and utterly fucked. If Mary expected a reprieve, she received none. Another clank announced the approach of another implement of violation. Here was the spear, and though the dull end approached her first, it was of small comfort to the poor girl. She cried out once more in terror as she felt the cold metal object stroke the length of her abused pussy, then delve searchingly into the crack of her ass. Mary clenched her asscheeks tight to ward off the invasion, but it was no use--the blunt end found her tiny puckered anus and began to push inside.

Although the sensation was terrible, it hurt less than the violation of her pussy. Mary felt the urge to rush to the bathroom immediately or risk humiliation, but she was powerless to do so. Instead, she lay helplessly as the metal spear worked its way further and further into her virgin asshole.

When unseen hands had stuffed ten inches of steel into Mary's ass, it began to slide back out. Mary whimpered, sure now that she was losing control of her bowels. Yet the spear halted before it slid completely out of her spasming hole and paused a moment before pushing once more into Mary's tender rectum.

The violation continued like this for some time, though Mary eventually became accustomed to the sensation. She found it horrible and disgusting, but after awhile it ceased almost entirely to hurt. The feeling of fullness remained, however, and Mary felt constantly on the verge of voiding her bowels all over the stone table.

Fortunately she did not, not even when the spear haft at last withdrew from her aching bowels, though the once-tiny hole did gape considerably for a few moments afterward. Mary whimpered with fear, expecting at any moment to be destroyed by this invisible being which tortured and abused her. Her titties and nipples were sore, her pussy horribly swollen; even her anus ached with a dull pain.

Suddenly the leather gloves released her breasts. There was the sound of a match flaring to life. Mary's eyes snapped open as a sudden heat crept over her breasts. There above her hovered a candlestick which held in each of its three prongs a long white tapered candle. The candles on either side had been lit, and as Mary watched, the candlestick tilted over her breasts. The candles were perfectly spaced so that when the melting wax dripped from them, it fell directly onto her aching, sore nipples.

Mary shrieked. The pain was incredible, seeming to spread outward into the rest of her breasts. Even once the wax began to cool and the immediate heat faded, her nipples still burned. The wax quickly hardened around the stiff nubs, sealing each one and its surrounding areola in white wax. The pain was reduced to a dull throb.

The flame above her was extinguished. When the wax of the candles had cooled, the candlestick floated down between her thighs. Innocent though she was, Mary knew what was about to happen. She steeled herself as a tapered candle slid simultaneously into each hole, burying all seven inches of hard wax in her pussy and ass. The third candle caressed her pelvic mound as the other two stroked in and out of her; it rubbed against her hood and teased the hardening clit underneath. Mary had never known such fullness, and though the violation of her pussy was painful, she at last began to moan softly.


The ghost kept Mary bound to the stone table for quite some time. He fed her with unseen hands and allowed her to drift into an uneasy sleep from time to time, always waking her after a few hours. He used all manner of objects to torture and pleasure her. He violated her ass and cunt with the hilts of swords and daggers; he tickled her clit and nipples with the flights of arrows; he even shoved a great handleful of these, feather-first, into her puckered asshole.

When at last Mary awoke to find herself freed from her shackles, clothed once more in a t-shirt and miniskirt, she thought she had imagined the entire event. A thorough investigation of her aching holes quickly banished this notion. It did seem, however, that the week Mary thought she had spent in that mysterious haunted castle had actually been little more than a night.

Julia and her friends had run off after pushing Mary to the ground, though they themselves had not dealt the blow which had left her lying unconscious at the top of the stairs. Laughing, they had run down the stairs and out of the castle, expecting a terrified Mary to come bolting after them, crying or shrieking out of fear. They waited several long minutes; when she did not come, they had ran off to one of their hangouts to smoke and drink and ridicule the stupid American chick.

When Julia saw Mary in class the next day, she had grinned broadly. "Did you see a ghost in that spooky old castle?"

Mary had only given her a strange, quiet smile, and said nothing. Let them make their jokes and have their fun. She thought only of the strange, sexual delights that awaited her in that dark hall.

After all, with pleasure like that, who needed friends?

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