Spectral Bride

"Twenty two," Vera replied, her mouth still felt numb and cottony. The ghost looked up at her and fluttered her dark eyelids.

"My my...a developed twenty two. So young, yet so..." Vera flinched as she felt the cold hand of the ghost slide under her arm and down her ribs, coming to rest on the curve of her hip. She slid her fingers slowly back, seeking out the springy fat of Vera's ample butt. Vera arched her back as the ghost sunk her fingers into the flesh, gripping a handful of her supple ass through the thin fabric of her yoga pants and cruelly squeezing it.

The ghost wet her lips, watching Vera's reaction, then released the cheek to bounce heavily back into position.

"Your clothing is so form fitting, you're spilling out of it. Tell me, is this style of dress the norm now? My husband would have confined me to the master bedroom had I dared to wear such...revealing items of clothing."

The ghost was seething with arousal, practically rubbing her thighs together as she examined Vera, trapped like a fly in a spider's web as she was. She seemed to abandon all pretense, slipping her hands under Vera's breasts and weighing them, pressing her fingers into their yielding meat. Vera gasped, squirming against her bonds as the ghost massaged her breasts through her clothes. She tore Vera's blouse with her fingernails, ripping it open to expose her bare chest, and ran her icy fingers over the top of Vera's boobs that spilled over her black bra.

Something odd was happening to the specter. It seemed that the further she went, and the more aroused she was, the tighter her belts became. They were constricting around her limbs and torso, like wet leather drying in the sun, or as if some invisible force were tightening them like a noose. Her thick thighs were now squeezed so tightly that her pale, almost blue flesh was pressing between the belts like dough. It looked uncomfortable, it would surely be painful to move as the heavy belts would pinch her, but she did not seem deterred in the slightest. If anything her chest was rising and falling more rapidly, her smooth cheeks flushing a deeper shade of purple like a bruise.

She tore the strap of Vera's bra, she was so strong, and the cups fell away to let her large breasts hang weightily, bouncing as they settled. The ghost chewed her lower lip, eyelids low and sultry, then plunged her cold hand into one of the globes. It sunk deep, the supple flesh spilling between her fingers as she kneaded, and she started on the second too.

Vera pursed her lips and tried to stifle her voice as the waves of undeniable pleasure crashed over her, the ghost's cold fingers massaging her breast tissue and pinching her sensitive nipples. She was skillful, and Vera's body was reacting to the stimulation against her will, her knees beginning to tremble and her loins starting to moisten.

The apparition's kneading became more violent, twisting and squeezing her tender breasts, not enough to hurt but enough that the pleasurable ache became unbearable. She leaned down, catching one of Vera's now hard nipples between her lips and teeth, sucking it into her mouth and teasing it with the tip of her tongue. Vera could not contain her mounting arousal and groaned, which was met with a sly chuckle from the ghost.

"That's more like it, my dear. Give in to me, let me have you in all the ways I desire, and you may find that you enjoy the things I do to you."

"S-Stop," Vera gasped, but she was rewarded with a harder bite to her pink areola, she yelped and arched her spine as the ghost peered up at her.

"Be a good girl now, I have...unconventional tendencies." She slid her hand across Vera's still damp skin, tickling her belly as her cold fingers glanced her flesh, finding their way to her groin. She slipped them between Vera's legs, and Vera closed her thighs around her hand in a futile attempt to block her out. "You're already inflamed, my child. I can feel the heat radiating from your nethers...this warmth, the warmth of life, I...need it."

She split the fabric with her fingernails as if Vera's leggings were pantyhose, exposing her inner thighs and her hairless mound, running her chilled fingers over the sensitive flesh. The sensation was like a scream in Vera's mind, the jolt of electric sensation that shot up her spine making white stars dance before her eyes. She instinctively tried to close her legs again, but the ghost already had her hands between them. She slipped a finger between Vera's labia, stroking her vulva, glancing her engorged clitoris as her juices leaked onto the invading digit.

"You're feverish, your thighs are trembling, child. Have you ever been with a woman before?"

"I...I'm not..."

"I think you'll find that it doesn't matter, just let yourself go, a boorish man can't know the subtleties and secret wants of a woman the ways I can."

She circled her clitoris with the tip of her finger, her cold skin lubricated by Vera's own warm nectar. Vera gritted her teeth against the powerful sensation, her hips rolling and squirming. The ghost looked up at her, her face a dark shade of purple, her free hand squeezing her own exposed breasts as they protruded through the ever tightening belts that failed to contain them.

"You're as smooth as a bairn down here, is that the fashion now? Delectable..."

She planted a wet kiss on Vera's shaved pubic mound, pulling away to leave an imprint of her red lipstick on her skin. Vera felt like her whole body was on fire, she was still afraid, but she was unbearably aroused too. No previous partners had ever teased her like this, the promise of pleasures to come sounded almost like a threat spoken by this supernatural creature. As much as she longed to break her bonds and make for the exit, should she even be able to find it, her body was slowly betraying her to this seductive and practiced woman.

"Now, do try to keep still my dear."

She kneeled, the leather belts creaking, and plunged her face between Vera's smooth thighs. Vera cried out in surprise and mild discomfort, feeling the entity's long tongue scour her vulva from top to bottom, coating it in thick saliva. She reached a finger up to splay Vera's pussy, opening her delicate, pink lips so that she could push that inhuman tongue into her twitching opening.

Vera bucked and writhed, trying to contract her pelvic floor muscles in order to stop the organ from penetrating her, but the long, slippery appendage pushed inside her like some kind of thick worm. A bestial groan escaped her throat as she felt the ghost's lips tease her clitoris, her tongue contorting, pushing against the upper wall of her tunnel and probing for Vera's g-spot. It was so cold, but so slimy and forceful, it reached further inside her than even her boyfriend could, painting her quivering tunnel with its smooth surface. It felt as if the tongue reached all the way to her womb, tickling her buzzing nerves and tasting the most intimate depths of her body.

"Fuck," Vera grunted, "take it out!" It sounded more like a wail of pleasure than a protest, and her cheeks reddened further as she realized this invasion was getting her off. God, she had never been eaten out like this before, it was enough to make her head spin.

The ghost ignored her, worming her way deeper and undulating the organ, thrashing it around inside her vagina. Vera's juices leaked around her face, glazing her frozen cheeks with warm emission, and the ghost gripped her ass cheek with her free hand as if Vera might try to escape.

Vera's heart fluttered, her vision blurring and her legs going numb as the ghost's tongue roiled inside her, her hips thrusting reflexively as if the slick organ were a penis. The specter pinched her clitoral hood between her thumb and forefinger, squeezing the hard nub of flesh, and jammed her tongue into Vera's weak spot.

Vera came, hard, grunting like an animal as jolts of harsh, raw pleasure seared her nervous system. Her muscles ached and burned, shivering and rippling as waves of her climax tore through her body, making her dance like she was being electrocuted. Her juices leaked from her twitching loins in fat strings that fell onto the ghost's cheeks, rolling wetly down her face, but the spirit hung on. She licked and teased, milking Vera's g-spot until it almost became painful, the pleasure too intense to tolerate, wringing out every last aftershock of her thundering orgasm.

It seemed to drag on for minutes, until eventually Vera was left limp and exhausted, hanging off the wall by her shackled wrists. The ghost bit her hip playfully, then rose to stand before her, scraping off a glob of Vera's come from her face and sucking it from her finger.

"You see? Such a sweet little thing...you might as well be virginal, untouched. Don't pretend you've ever felt anything like that before."

Vera panted, sweat making her pale skin glisten in what little light shone through the dirty windows, her viscous juices still leaking between her quivering thighs. The ghost sunk her hands into Vera's breasts again, unbearably tender after such a powerful orgasm. Vera squirmed under her cruel, cold hands. She loosed low, breathy moans that she knew would only serve to further arouse the ghost, but she couldn't help herself.

"P-Please," she murmured, and the ghost leaned closer to hear her, fingers still probing her fat bosom. "Be gentle with me." That was a poor choice of words it seemed, and the ghost brought her fingers to her mouth as if she were some demure lady who had just witnessed something untoward.

"Oh...no, my dear, I'm sorry. Gentleness is not in my character." She leaned in to whisper in Vera's ear, her cool breath chilling her hot skin. "I want you sore and ragged, crawling on your scuffed knees, begging for relief that only I can grant you." She pressed her teeth into Vera's neck, not hard enough to break her skin, but enough to leave a red imprint when she withdrew, licking the sheen of sudor from her throat.

Vera's lower lip trembled, she felt as if she might start to cry, but there was something about the prospect that set her heart beating like a drum and her thighs quivering with anticipation. What if it felt as good as her tongue had as it scoured her insides? A reckless voice in her head told her to see this through, test the boundaries of her senses, as if she had any choice in the matter.

The ghost loosed a gasp suddenly, both of shock and pleasure, her legs starting to shake and her eyes rolling back into her head as she closed the purple lids. The belts that were wrapped around her neck creaked, tightening as if they were trying to choke her. She gagged and coughed for a moment, odd reflexes for someone who was effectively deceased, then seemed to compose herself. She noticed that Vera was watching her with an alarmed expression, and cracked her neck, did she even have bones?

"Whatever force holds me here, that binds me to this place," she said, gesturing to the damp and dusty walls around her, "seeks to punish me. These irons clamped around my wrists and ankles tether me, no matter how far I try to trace the chains to their source, none can be found. These belts grow tighter and more painful as my mind wanders to ever more...deviant subjects. As my passions inflame, so too do these belts constrict and tighten around me. Some form of irony is at play here, in life I bound my lovers, in death I am bound by my desires."

Vera watched her curiously, did this happen to everyone who died, or just the worst offenders? Were they all made to suffer punishments befitting their crimes in life? Silently vowing to clean up her lifestyle, Vera listened as the ghost went on.

"It's doing a poor job of it, however. I...I love it. I love the feeling of these belts closing around my throat, choking me like the fingers of a stern lover, the sensation of the leather as it stifles my motions. The pain excites me, I know that I cannot be injured anymore, only teased by the sensation. Maybe I'm in hell, I am a murderess after all. Then again maybe this is heaven, the lines have blurred, the distinction between pleasure and pain has lost its meaning for me."

The ghost seemed pensive, almost melancholy, staring into space as Vera hung from the wall. She seemed to awaken from her stupor with a start, resting her hand on her bosom and smiling warmly.

"Oh, I do beg your pardon, my dear. I am not used to company these days, I sometimes allow my thoughts to wander. Now, where were we?"

She placed a gentle hand on Vera's chest, pushing her backwards, and the hard wall behind her seemed to lose its form. It melted away, becoming as a liquid that flowed around her and engulfed her in darkness.

Vera awoke on silken sheets, a soft mattress beneath her as she rose to a sitting position and rubbed her eyes. Had it all been some terrible dream? Oh please let it all have been some depraved nightmare, perhaps Vera had some personal issues to work though. She looked around the room, where was she? It looked like the master bedroom of the manor, had to be. It wasn't a dream then, yet everything looked new and undamaged by the ravages of time. The sheets were smooth and clean, a wood fire roared in the hearth, and the wallpaper and carpeting were pristine. Was this the ghost's doing? She couldn't see her in the room.

What the hell was she wearing? Vera looked down at her body, clad in a French maid outfit, a black and white frilled dress with flared shoulders and a long skirt. This wasn't the variety she was accustomed with, it seemed to be a real period uniform rather than some fetishistic outfit, though there might be no distinction to the depraved spirit. Vera was startled to hear the ghost's voice as the door to the room creaked open.

"You have failed in your household duties, lowly maid. Your Mistress is very disappointed in you." The ghost was still clad in the belts, her appearance still spectral and translucent. She carried a wax candle in her hand that was perched on a silver dish, as if she had been lighting her way with it. Had she lived before the invention of electric lighting?

She strode towards the bed, her wide hips rolling as she walked on her impossibly high heels, another dimension of her punishment perhaps?

"Rather than turn you out into the cold, I have come to the decision that unruly and slovenly girls such as yourself must be harshly disciplined, wouldn't you agree?" The ghost drew a riding crop from behind her back, snapping it through the air with an audible crack. Vera yelped and scrambled backwards on the bed, finding the headboard blocking her escape, strewn with embroidered pillows. The dancing firelight cast long shadows, framing the ghost in a flickering, orange glow.

"Breaking a china cup worth more than your yearly salary, how clumsy of you. Don't pull away from your Mistress, you deserve the punishment that's coming. You're lucky I have not involved my husband in this matter."

What was this? What was she rambling about? Could she be replaying the events of her last encounter with her former lover? Perhaps the final hours before she had murdered her husband?

She cracked the riding crop again, making Vera jump, and pointed to the carpet beneath her boots.

"Come here, now." Her expression and tone were stern, and so Vera complied, slinking off the bed and coming to stand before her, eyes to the floor. This wasn't real, she was not the person the ghost was referring to, so why did she feel so guilty and meek? "On your knees," the ghost snarled, and Vera did as she was instructed, keeping her gaze low and submissive.

The specter reached down to hook a hand under Vera's chin and raise her face, looking down at her with an expression that could only be described as lecherous. She was breathing heavily, cheeks flushed purple, her large breasts swaying as her chest rose and fell. Vera could hear the leather belts creaking around her body, making the pallid flesh of her quivering thighs, her belly and upper arms protrude through the gaps. Her breathing started to come in short bursts as the belts around her throat crushed her windpipe.

"T-Turn around and get on your h-hands and knees," the ghost panted, wetting her lips as she watched Vera's frightened expression. Vera did as she was asked, and felt the sharp heel of the apparition's boot on her back. The woman leaned down and untied the bow that secured her uniform, and it sloughed off her body, exposing her naked back and shoulders. The ghost ran her cold fingers from her neck to the base of her spine, making Vera twitch and shiver.

"So smooth and soft, but you deserve this, don't you?"

"I...I deserve this. Forgive my trespasses Mistress." What was she saying? This wasn't like her, why was this making her so damned hot?

She yelped in surprise as the ghost cracked the crop against the skin of her back. Pain seared through her, and she made to crawl away, but she was pressed into the carpet by the specter's boot. She whipped her again, and again, leaving stinging welts in her porcelain flesh. It was not nearly enough to injure or leave lasting marks, but it smarted, and Vera looked back over her shoulder with teary eyes. The apparition was positively steaming, she drew in gasping breaths as if she had run a marathon, and her belts were so constricting that it looked like she was having trouble moving her arm.

Vera realized that her loins were sopping, her excitement trickling down her inner thighs to stain the carpet as the ghost loomed over her. She had never felt so aroused in her life, so submissive, she was enjoying this treatment. Was she somehow channeling the emotions of the ghost's former lover, or had this woman unlocked some hidden desire that had been buried deep in her own mind?

"Enough, kneel beside the bed, lest you taste my crop again."

Vera shuffled over to the bed, the rough carpet rubbing her knees raw. She waited as the ghost walked over and took a seat on the edge of the mattress, facing her maid and splaying her legs to expose her dripping sex. It was obvious what she wanted next.

She reached down and loosened Vera's uniform further, letting it fall about her waist to expose her breasts. She prodded at them with her riding crop, making Vera shiver, fearing blows to her vulnerable chest.

"Clean me, as you have so often cleaned the floors of my manor. Use your tongue, girl."

Vera's hesitation was met by a snap of the crop beside her ear, and she hurriedly pressed her face between the ghost's open thighs. She had never dreamed of going down on another girl, but something about the way the ghost gazed down at her made her want to please her. She tested the fleshy lips with the tip of her tongue, afraid that it would taste or smell bad, but there was no scent or flavor to it. It was just as cold as the rest of her, yet it dripped a clear fluid that made it slick and shiny. The ghost looked as if she should be hot to the touch, but she was perpetually chilled, as if she lacked the embers of life.

The ghost took her by the hair and forced her deeper, and Vera did her best to lick and suck in the way she knew a woman would enjoy. She traced the folds of her labia with her tongue, dragging it across her hard clitoris and mouthing her pubic mound. The specter groaned appreciatively, leaning back on her elbows, the candle she was still holding flickering and dripping wax into the silver dish. The ghost began to grind her hips against Vera's face, seeking out more stimulation as she lapped at her vulva. Vera spread the ghost's lips with her fingers, it was a deeper purple on the inside, the same color as her flushed cheeks. She pushed two fingers into the ghost's opening, feeling her muscles clamp around them, and teased her hard nub of flesh with her tongue. She began to move her fingers in and out rhythmically, feeling her partner respond with contractions and shivers, the belts tight enough now to choke off the blood supply, if she had any blood in her cold veins to begin with.