Schrute Farms: A Ghost Story

Playing with the characters from the American version of The Office, this parody is meant as a bit of Halloween fun. A departure from other things I've written, so I'd encourage you not to take it too seriously. Comments and feedback are always welcome. Happy Halloween.

The darkened farmhouse creaked in the wind of a chill October night. Moaning echoed through the walls and awoke the sleeping couple in their darkened room. Turning on the light was not an option, as Schrute Farms had just gone wireless, thanks to Mose Schrute hiding all of the wires.

"What is that?" Pam Beasley whispered to her boyfriend Jim, the situation not what either of them expected for their first overnight trip together.

Jim sat up in the small custom made bed and ran his hand through his tousled hair. The newness of being in bed with his long time crush sent a thrill through him as he gave her thigh a pat.

"I'm sure it's as weird as you'd expect," he sighed, "I'll go this time. You investigated the last one." Of course Pam had sought out the source of a constant banging, like repeated door slams only to spy Mose in the outhouse with the unhinged door slamming repeatedly in the wind.

"What if it's ghosts?" she giggled, teasing Jim, but honestly more than impressed by his nonchalance in seeking out the moaning.

"There's no such thing as ghosts," Jim said evenly as he stood and slipped on a robe over his flannel pajamas.

"What if it's Dwight and Mose having sex?" Pam teased, stifling a chuckle.

"Then I take back what I said," Jim replied flatly, "And I hope it's ghosts."

Jim slipped out of the small room and into the hallway, the moaning intensifying as he padded softly down the hall. He followed it to a closed door and knocked softly.

"Come in," a voice from within the room said as the moaning stopped.

Slowly opening the door, Jim found his co-worker Dwight sitting on his bed in a t-shirt and boxers, holding a small figurine and illuminated by a single candle.

"Is everything alright?" Jim asked, suspiciously cautious, "We heard loud moaning."

"Oh?" Dwight's expression was unmoved and seemed barely concerned, "perhaps it's the pipes... or perhaps Mose is having nightmares."

"Does Mose have nightmares?" Jim asked, feeling a bit disturbed by the revelation.

"Oh yes," Dwight said coolly, "Bad ones." Dwight turned his round face to Jim, expressionless.

At that moment the door slammed shut behind Jim. He couldn't help but jump at the loud bang it made in the darkened room. Jim turned to the door but found he couldn't open it.

"The door seems to be stuck," Jim said aloud, trying to hide the unsettling panic growing in his voice.

Dwight turned his face back to the figurine in his hands. "It's just a game he's playing, there's no need to panic."

"Panic? Who said anything about panicking?" Jim asked, clearly getting agitated. He continued to work the handle of the heavy door to no avail.

Seeing Dwight was lost in his own dysfunction, Jim called out through the door, "Alright Mose, you've had your fun, open the door."

"Oh, it's not Mose," Dwight explained, "And the more you panic, the more fun he has torturing you."

Throughout their day at Schrute Farms, Jim and Pam had only encountered Dwight and his cousin Mose. If someone else lived on the beet farm, it was news to Jim. Dwight had always given the impression that he and Mose lived alone.

"What do you mean it's not Mose?" Jim turned back to Dwight, a chill running through him. "Who else is here?"

Dwight remained calm, "Come, sit, let me tell you a story."

....

While Jim contemplated the bizarre and honestly frightening situation in Dwight's room, Pam, remained snugly in their shared bed in the blackened room. With the moaning having stopped, she was beginning to drift back to sleep despite fighting to stay awake for Jim's return.

She had turned and was facing the wall, half asleep, when she heard the door to their room softly close, the lock being turned with a click.

Smiling in her drowsy state, she let out a soft moan of her own that dripped with an eager contentedness for her lover's return. Like Jim, she had crushed on him for so long, even though often denying her true feelings to herself, that now that they were together, every day seemed lovely.

He treated her so well, obviously cared for her. Was kind, considerate, and her biggest supporter. Sure, he wasn't quite what she was used to in bed. Her ex fiance Roy had been, in many ways, the opposite of Jim: gruff, self-centered, dismissive. Objectively she knew that Roy was bad for her, and her desire for him was toxic, but the way he fucked her, the way he ordered her around in the bedroom, made use of her as though she were a play thing...

Of course Jim would never treat her so callously. That's why she loved him so much. But love and orgasms don't always go together. So sometimes, on nights that Jim played in the basketball league at the Y, she let her mind remember some scene from her time with Roy as she got herself off.

She felt the bed shift as she was joined in bed, "Did you figure out..."

A large hand ran up her leg from the end of the bed, cutting her off. Soon the leg was followed by the feel of kisses running up her calf.

"Hey... " she giggled, "I thought we weren't comfortable having sex with Dwight right down the hall?" Of course by "we" she meant Jim, who had begged off of her advances earlier in the night. The thrill of being alone together on their first overnight trip, even if it was to the coworker's beet farm, obviously wasn't as exciting for Jim as it had been for her.

She rolled onto her back just in time to see the figure disappear under the blankets at her feet. Her legs smooth and bare as she chose to sleep in just panties and an oversized t-shirt, were pushed apart as the figure moved between them.

"Oh my," She breathed quietly into the room, "Someone found his interest." Her hands reached down and rested on the back of the head making its way under the blankets, now kissing just above her knees as she eagerly spread her legs wider to encourage the ascent.

Jim had proven more than a bit reserved when it came to sex and resisted going down on her. In fairness to him, his lack of experience made him uncomfortable receiving head too, and usually stopped her quite quickly when she would initiate sex by going down on him in the middle of their favourite programs.

But there was no hesitancy here, large hands held her thighs apart, and soon she felt the warm breath of a mouth on her panty covered mound, breathing her in, tasting the air of her scent and wetness.

"Do you want me to take..." but her offer to remove her undergarment was interrupted by the forcefull hands gripping and shredding the flimsy material to tatters, freeing her sex for his eager mouth.

"Oh god..." She moaned as the hands pushed her legs up and back and the mouth closed over her sex. A long cool tongue snaking in between the wet folds of her flesh in one long lapping stroke as she gripped the back of the head and arched her body up into it.

....

Dwight patted the chair next to the bed, inviting Jim to come further into the room and have a seat. Looking back at the locked door that wouldn't budge, Jim resigned himself to the apparent fact that there was no way out but through.

Before he had even taken his seat, Dwight looked up at him, the eerie glow of the candle illuminating his face.

"You already know that when Schrutes marry, it is tradition that we do so while standing in our own graves," Dwight began.

"Did I know that?" Jim questioned, knowing that half of what Dwight says he dismisses and ignores.

"Yes, you did," Dwight said, showing his trademark irritation for the first time in the encounter. "But do you know why?"

"Something about 'til death do us part?" Jim ventured a guess.

"Wrong." Dwight admonished. "Well sort of. Just shut up and listen." The flustered Dwight collected himself and returned to the mysterious air of earlier.

"It's because of Obediah Schrute, the founder of this beet farm, back in 1812." Dwight explained. "Obediah was an adventurous sort, had a difficult time settling down. He laid claim to this land only as a temporary means to generate funds for an expedition further west, beets being a form of currency at the time.

"But claiming this land meant securing the deed from a wealthy banker in Philadelphia, and that meant taking the banker's daughter for a wife. Of course, Obediah had no need for a wife, and as his plans to settle on a beet farm were only temporary, he entered the marriage with the intent of breaking the marriage vow as soon as it suited him.

"After a few years his wife, after birthing a few strong Schrute lads with fine wide set eyes, learned of Obediah's plans to abandon her. It was then, she consulted the town witch."

Jim sat captivated by the story, the first time he could ever remember actually being captivated by anything Dwight said. "And then what happened?" He asked in a hushed whisper.

"Well, long story short, she cursed him and it backfired and now not even death will separate them from the land and each other."

Jim shook his head, even when he wanted Dwight to talk about the Schrutes he skipped over the most interesting parts. "I'm going back to bed."

"Be careful," Dwight warned as Jim headed to the door, "His wife, Incarnata Schrute, haunts these grounds as well, and she is a comely spirit." Dwight smiled as if lost in a pleasant memory, "Very comely indeed."

Jim got to the door and tried the handle and the door popped open. "what do you know?" he asked sarcastically, "Opened just as you finished your ghost story."

"It's not a story Jim," Dwight sounded agitated, "Well, it is a story, but that doesn't mean it's false, it's more non-fiction narrative. You know what? Forget it."

Jim sighed and closed the door behind him as he headed back to his room.

....

Of course in their room, Pam was in the throws ecstasy as she was devoured; her legs splayed by the lover she thought was Jim.

"Oh god, Jim," she whined out as her chest rose and fell in increasing tempo, her hands clutching at the sheet covered back of her lovers head. She pushed up against the invading tongue, grinding herself against the mouth ravishing her as she sought out her building release.

"Fuck..." the demur receptionist from northeastern Pennsylvania exclaimed into the room as her stomach began to tighten until a wave of pleasure cascaded through her, causing her head to tip back and her body to arch as she whined and grunted under the touch of her lover.

The questions about Jim's sudden eagerness to go down on her, the strangeness of Dwight's agro-tourism bed and breakfast being the location to bring out this side of him, all of that dissipated under the crashing wave of her orgasm which echoed in the room and down the hall.

....

Jim heard the cries of his girlfriend and was suddenly worried. If he had examined that feeling however, the panic was not from a fear of Pam being in danger, but from the deeply held realization that she was in the throes of passion, and he was nowhere near.

Just as he was about to run down the hall (to her aid, he lied to himself). The door next to him opened and a lovely young woman stood there. Dressed in a simple black frock, her blonde hair was held up in a bun, and she leaned against the door frame with her slim arms arranged behind her.

"Seriously?" Jim thought to himself upon seeing the woman appear. After all the pranks he had pulled on Dwight, did Dwight really think a simple ghost story would catch him flat footed?

"She sounds like she's having a good time," the young woman smiled. Her lips were naturally red and set against porcelain white skin. For a moment Jim thought it was Angela in costume, but Angela would never agree to this, especially after her recent breakup with Dwight.

"Does she?" Jim deadpanned, trying to regain his attitude of ironic detachment. He began to believe Pam was likely in on the joke.

"Oh yes," the blonde woman tilted her head slightly, drinking in Jim's tall frame with her eyes. "Obediah is quite a skilled lover, and although it's a sin," she lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "He's especially good with his mouth."

Jim's mouth opened and closed as he tried to process how bizarre this conversation was, how elaborate the prank.

"Of course," she pushed herself away from the door frame and took a step toward Jim, trailing a long slender finger down his night shirt covered chest while lowering her chin and looking up at him with puppy dog eyes, "having such a worldly husband has allowed me an education in a similar skill set."

Despite himself, Jim could feel a growing erection as he responded to this woman's touch and insinuations. And naturally this made him upset.

"I love Pam," he said firmly, taking the woman by the shoulders and moving her away from him with a gentle insistence.

Incarnata rolled her eyes. "Of course you are," she answered, "and I love my husband, but love only goes so far after 200 years."

Jim couldn't help but smile, "So you're supposed to be Incarnata Schrute, here to seduce me while Obediah seduces Pam?" The woman shrugged as if to say she was guilty as charged.

"Well first," Jim explained, "There's no such thing as ghosts. And second Pam would never cheat on me, and third..."

Cutting off his list with a laugh, Incarnata reached out and took his hand. "Come with me," she ordered as she dragged him into the room she had come from. "Let's check on Pam's faithfulness."

In the room was an antique oak dresser with an elaborate mirror attached to the top. Rather than casting reflections of Jim and his companion, however, the mirror showed what appeared to be the interior of Jim and Pam's room.

"What the hell?" Jim exclaimed, "Dwight's spying on us now?" Of course he really shouldn't have been surprised by that; it was part of why he had refused Pam's advances earlier in the evening.

"Hush," Incarnata silenced him as she put a hand on his shoulder while standing beside him, both of them gazing into the mirror.

In the mirror Pam was in the throws of her orgasm, grinding against her ghostly lover while gripping the back of his head. But in the mirror the sheets were gone, and Pam lay with spread legs and a man who looked a lot like Dwight's cousin Mose feasting between them.

"Mmm," Incarnata hummed as she sidled up to Jim, one hand on his back, the other on his taut stomach, "I can see why you like her, she climaxes so prettily."

Jim was almost heart broken as he watched Pam climax, feeling ashamed that he so rarely would go down on her and bring her off that way even though she often asked him to.

"Don't worry," Incarnata could sense his displeasure, "She thinks it's you.... listen."

And as her dainty hand went to the bulge in Jim's flannel sleep trousers, the sound of Pam's voice filled the room as she began coming down from her high.

"Oh Jim," she breathed "Jim that was everything..."

Suddenly, though her hand had been resting on the head between her thighs, she felt the sheet fall into place over her body as her hand gripped empty air. Jim watched as Pam sat up with a start and looked around the now empty room nervously.

"Jim?" Pam called out into the darkened room, reaching for the lamp she knew didn't work. "Jim?" she called again.

For his part Jim watched her in the mirror while Incarnata lowered his sleep trousers and began stroking him.

"Don't worry," Incarnata explained while slipping lower, "It's not over. He's not done with her yet."

Jim looked down just in time to watch his cock disappear into the ghostly woman's mouth, her delicate hand gripping him at it's base while she began bobbing her head daintily up and down his member.

Suddenly Pam let out a yip as the blankets she had been covered with were pulled away by an unseen force.

Jim's eyes flew back to the mirror and watched as Pam was seemingly gripped by her hips and pulled forward, causing her to fall back on her back. She cried out for help, but Jim was paralyzed both by his own fascination and the wonderfully wicked sensation enveloping his cock at the moment. Incarnata, it turns out, was quite good. Not that Jim had a lot of experience with receiving blow jobs. Pam was the best he'd had. Karen had refused to give blow jobs, and the former cheerleader turned purse saleswoman he dated briefly always acted annoyed by the need to lower herself.

Instead Jim melted into a voyeuristic pool as he watched the figure of Obediah appear at the foot of Pam's bed, fully nude, turgid member jutting out a good 10 inches from his well built frame. The sudden sight of him caused Pam to freeze, her eyes locking of the largest member she had ever seen.

"I love Jim," she explained to the ghostly figure, "please don't do this." The idea of being taken by a ghost thrilled her, but she wanted to be a good little girlfriend. She also couldn't help but wonder at the size of what threatened her. She had always secretly felt she needed more than Jim offered, even more than Roy, though his rough insistence often made up for his otherwise average size.

The spirit of Obediah pointed to the mirror in Pam's room, and Jim knew Pam was watching him get serviced by Incarnata. Pam looked at her mirror as Jim looked at his and in that moment, they locked eyes.

"Jim?" Pam asked meekly, trying to wrap her head around what was going on.

"It's okay, Pam," Jim said aloud, but as he did his hand went to the back of Incarnata's head and gripped her hair by the bun elicitng a moan from the ghostly woman.

Pam turned back to the spirit kneeling between her legs, now obscenely stroking his oversized manhood. "So it was you..." she hesitated to explain what she meant, "just now?"

The spirit nodded, and Pam's eyes moved from fear to fascination as she lowered her gaze to the 10 inch cock threatening her. She sat up and reached out a tentative hand to touch the mushroom head, already showing itself despite the uncircumcised nature of the thing.

Jim watched as Pam gripped the ghostly cock, feeling it's girth in her hand and then slowly stroking it.

"It's so big..." Pam said aloud to no one but herself, but then focused her attention on Obediah, "Can you use it as well as you use your tongue?"

"Aye, miss," Obediah responded, "Better, even."

Pam sat stroking the cock in front of her and then suddenly turned to Jim, "I'm sorry, I love you, but I have to try this."

Jim's breath hitched as he helped the blonde woman take more of him in her mouth by encouraging the back of her head. "I love you, too," he said, "I just want you to be happy."

Pam took this as all the permission she needed as she leaned back and guided the massive cock so that the head nestled into the folds of her already wet flesh. Obediah followed suit, and between them the ghost was soon aligned with Pam's entrance.

As Obediah readied himself to enter Pam in one room, Jim reached down and helped Incarnata to her feet, bending her forward at the dresser holding the mirror and raising her skirt. The spirit coupled smiled at each other as they too were about to engage something new as a shared experience.

As Obediah pushed into Pam, Jim opened Incarnata, but Pam and Jim locked eyes through the mirrors as they broke vows of fidelity in the strangeness of a ghostly encounter.

In a moment though, Pam felt herself being stretched more than she could have imagined, and the slight discomfort mixed with massive pleasure caused her head to loll back. Jim watched as his one day wife's eyes rolled back as she took more cock than he, or anyone else, had ever given her.

Jim's response to the sight was to grip Incarnata's hips and begin thrusting into her from behind as the 200 year old spirit moaned and whined desperate for the attention of someone new.