The Ghost of Ouderburg Castle

Could he feel what I felt? "Oh, yes," he said, "I can feel every little thing you do, when we are heheh, intimate like this. And, I can hear your louder thoughts, as well, so feel free to scream, if you like. There's nothing I like better than a pretty girl screaming helplessly inside her own mind."

"Why are you doing this to me?" I thought, as 'loudly' as I could.

"Why?" he whispered, amusement clear in his tone, "for fun, of course. Millions of beautiful women in this world, and so many of them not having any fun...it is a crime and a sin."

"This is not fun," I thought, "it's wrong, and...evil!"

"Evil, bah," whispered the mære contemptuously. "What does a pampered infant like you know of evil? And it didn't feel so wrong when you were cumming last night on the tip of that boy's tongue, now did it?"

I thought of the surging power of my orgasm last night, all the more intense for my paralysis, and he chuckled darkly, picking the memory from my thoughts. "Yes, it was a good one, indeed, even better than I'd imagined. Tonight, I'll get to feel it...them...for myself, and thank you in advance, my sweet filly. Now, hup, let's go, my lovely."

My body took a step, then another, and gave a little hop. It shifted from foot to foot for a moment, as if he were getting used to its balance, then he walked me to the door, opened it, and strode out into the hall, eyes staring straight ahead.

#####

Jan answered the phone to hear Karl's voice. "She's here," he said.

"Where?"

"The greenhouse," he replied. "Come through the gardening shed; the outside door is locked up for the winter."

Jan locked up the security room and hurried down the hill. He'd seen Merrie stand up and leave her room, but lost her when she left the castle. The 'gardening shed' was not really a shed at all, but a long, single-story building made of the same dark pink stone as the castle, bridge and hotel buildings. It housed the gardener's quarters in front, then a large, low barn-like room filled with landscaping equipment. Behind that was a greenhouse consisting of a stone half-wall with glassed-in upper walls and roof. It was full of planting tables, currently free of seedlings and nicely cleaned up for the winter.

"How did she even get in here?" asked Jan, when he'd joined Karl in gazing down at the beautiful young blonde, sprawled out naked on one of the planting tables, her clothes scattered around her.

"Don't know," said Karl, his eyes fixed on Merrie's breasts, "the outside door is still padlocked. She must have come through the house while I was tending the kitchen garden. If I hadn't seen the inside door open a little, I might not have known she was in here till January."

Jan approached closer, gazing on the girl's nude perfection. "She's so pretty," he murmured. She seemed so innocent and vulnerable, he thought, her little pink cunny all on display like that, with just the slightest blonde peach fuzz adorning her pubes. He took a step closer, and saw her open, staring sapphire blue eyes, and it gave him a shiver.

"The ghost has her, sure enough," he said, "and he's walked her out here and left her for us, hasn't he?"

"Yeah, I guess so," said Karl, coming up on the other side of the table, his hand already reaching for Merrie's nearest breast.

The girl's staring eyes bothered Jan a little, so he reached down and stroked them closed with his fingertips. That was better; now she looked more like the adorable, sleeping girl she was. But, a moment later, her eyes drifted open again, slowly, and that was even creepier, so he left them alone.

Karl had both hands on Merrie's amazing breasts, and he was kneading them intently, deeply absorbed with their soft, firm pliability. Jan moved down the table and sat on the edge, lifting the girl's leg and placing her foot in his lap. The change in position spread her legs a little wider and caused her little cunt to gape open, showing the darker pink flesh of her opening. It glistened with moisture.

"Verbazingwekkend," he murmured, "she's wet." He dipped a thick finger into her vulva, then held it up.

Karl glanced over at the moisture on Jan's digit and grinned. "Her tits feel amazing," he said. "Look how hard her nipples are." He lifted his palms away from Merrie's breasts for a moment, and Jan could see her nipples: mauve knots protruding from her perfectly round aureoles.

"Mmm," Jan said, turning his attention back to her pussy. With his thumbs, he spread her lips wide, admiring the moist, pink flesh inside. He massaged her outer lips, then tugged at the skin around her clit, dragging it up and out, forcing her tiny pink clitoris to protrude from its hood. "Zo mooi," he whispered, admiring the turgid pink nub.

Releasing it, Jan stood and said, "Let me move her a little." Karl stepped away, and Jan took hold of her legs, lifting her hips. Karl lifted her shoulders, and they moved her so her butt was just at the edge of the table, her torso nearer to one side. Karl knelt beside her and began to suckle at her tit, while Jan spread her legs wide, propping her feet on the table's edge and holding her thighs apart as he knelt between them.

Jan put his nose near the young woman's pretty cunt and inhaled deeply, then took a slow lick, gathering her dew on his tongue, savoring the flavor of flowers and saffron. "Mmm," he said, "she is delicious." He licked her again, slowly, from her tiny puckered asshole up to her puffy little clit, grown even more prominent in the last few seconds. He tickled circles around it with the tip of his tongue, and was rewarded with a subtle twitch of her pelvis.

Karl turned her head to face him, gazing into her staring, brilliant blue eyes, then he kissed her, forcing her mouth open and invading it with his tongue. He explored every millimeter of the inside of her mouth, inhaling her sweet breaths and kissing her more deeply than any conscious woman would have permitted. He licked her teeth and played with her tongue, flicking it back and forth and sucking on the tip of it. He tongued roof of her mouth and probed the tender saliva glands beneath her tongue. He licked her lips, and sucked them. He even licked inside her nostrils, just because he could, imagining how she—or any other woman—would have recoiled if a man had tried to do something like that while she was awake. He laid a line of kisses from her collarbone up her neck, sucked her earlobe and buried his face in the warm tangle of hair at her nape, inhaling her scent like a sommelier tasting a fine wine.

"Look," Jan said, "she's cumming." Karl turned his head to see the girl's smooth belly clenching rhythmically. He laid his hand across it to feel her taut abdominal muscles working beneath her skin. Jan had one finger inside her, working it gently in and out, and he continued to place light kisses on her clit, each one triggering another twitch of her stomach muscles.

"I want to fuck her," Karl said. They changed places, and he freed his cock, then stood between her legs, propping her ankles on his shoulders as he wet his cockhead in her moist vulva. Once he was lined up, he held the backs of her knees, lifting, then pressed forward into her. "She's tight," he said, "really tight. You think she's a virgin?"

"Mmm, dom't thimk so," Jan mumbled, mouth full of her nipple, "I'd have felt it."

"Still," Karl said, pushing slowly deeper into Merrie's core, "really tight."

Several times, as he sank his length into her, Karl felt her channel quiver, as if she was still cumming slightly, or about to cum again. He pressed deeper until his pelvis pressed hers, then he ground his hips against her, mashing her clit between them. He felt her quiver inside again.

As Karl began to fuck her slowly, Jan stood and took out his own cock. He brought it to her lips and nudged them apart with its tip. She stared sightlessly as he filled her mouth with his meat. Experimentally he pressed his tip into her glottis, expecting her to gag. She didn't, and he pulled it out, smearing her saliva and his precum over her lips before pushing it back in. He used his thumb to hold her jaw open wide and pressed his cockhead against the inside of her cheek, distending it, and tapped with his fingertips, feeling the vibration through her cheek. Turning her head a little more, he pushed his cock deep into her throat, then even deeper, but she still didn't gag. He wondered if all sleeping women lacked a gag reflex, or if it was just her, or maybe the ghost, but quickly decided it didn't matter and started fucking her throat, deep and smooth.

The two middle-aged men fucked Merrie for a good long time, gradually thrusting faster and harder until Karl grunted and drove his cock deep inside her. He threw his head back and groaned as he filled her nubile womb with sperm, then said, "Ahh, she's cumming again. Damn, that's good, ahhh."

"My turn," Jan said, and they changed places again. Karl used Merrie's mouth to clean the sloppy juices from his cock as Jan used a handkerchief to mop some of the cummy mess from her cunt before plunging his cock into her slick tunnel. Once Karl's dick was clean, he knelt beside the table and began sucking her nipples industriously, until they were both as stiff as wood and had darkened to a dusky rose shade.

While Karl played with her tits, Jan fucked the beautiful girl for another twenty minutes or so, then groaned loudly and filled her with a second load of cream. Then he used her mouth as Karl had to clean the sex juices off his cock. Her blue eyes stared directly at him as he did so, and he couldn't help thinking how horribly degraded the poor young thing would feel to be used this way, if she weren't sound asleep. He found his cock getting hard again at the thought, so he put it back in her mouth and started fucking it again, watching himself go in and out of her pretty face.

Karl took the handkerchief and began to clean the soppy mess from between the girl's legs, then fingered her as he licked and sucked her clit, until he felt her channel squeezing his fingers, and he knew he'd made her cum again.

The two men played with Merrie for a few more minutes, then rearranged her more-or-less as they found her, albeit with more cum on and in her. Then they returned to the security room and watched her on one of the monitors. After about an hour, she sat up with a jerk, eyes still staring straight ahead, picked up her clothes, and walked—stark naked—into the night.

#####

"Well, that was fun, wasn't it?" Deattán whispered in my ear. He was walking me through the dark naked, my clothes clutched in one hand, shoes in the other. The night was clear and chilly, and the stars shone cooly overhead.

"Fun?" I thought loudly, "You let them rape me! You-you put me there—naked!—just so they would rape me!"

"You came, though, didn't you?" he asked snidely, "three times, as I recall. And, may I just say, my dear, you have the sweetest, most intense little orgasms I've enjoyed in many a long century, you lucky girl."

There was not much I could say to that. I had come—three times, as he'd said—and it had felt wonderful. But it had also felt so very, very demeaning to be used like that, as if I were even less than a whore, just a...a thing, a sex toy. How would I be able to face Jan tomorrow, knowing he was the sort of man who would do such a thing to a young girl?

"Pshh," hissed Deattán in my ear, "rape, indeed. Those men were kind, you silly loon. They gave you pleasure, and you gave them...you cannot possibly imagine what you gave to them. How many women so young and fine do you imagine a man like Jan or Karl is likely to fuck in his lifetime? None, most likely. Those men will recall you fondly for the rest of their lives. You will live on in their memories—as young and beautiful as you are now—long after all your youth and beauty have faded to age and loneliness."

"But...they didn't have any right to do that to me," I protested. "I didn't consent! You can't just go around fu-...having sex with sleeping women. What if they got me pregnant?"

"What of it?" Deattán scoffed as he set my bare feet upon the rough pink stones of the bridge. It was well-lighted, and people looking out any of dozens of windows in the castle or the hotel would be able to see me walking naked across the bridge, holding my clothes.

"Human women get pregnant," he went on. "It's a thing that will most likely happen to you sooner or later, and a child born of passion is generally a healthier, happier creature than one born of duty or boredom or some sense of obligation: of this I can assure you from many centuries of observation."

"Passion?" I thought, "I wasn't passionate. I was being raped."

"Dispassionate women don't orgasm three times in a row, my dear," Deattán said wryly. "But come, my lovely, let us set aside our debate, and I will show you a wonderful thing—another wonderful thing—this night."

As we approached the castle entrance, he made me drop my clothes and climb up on the stone rail of the bridge. "What are you doing?" I thought, alarmed. "I'm going to fall!"

"I've been here at Ouderburg for a long time, my dear, and I know all of its many secrets," he whispered, walking me along the top of the rail with perfect balance. "My, you have such a strong young body, my dear. What a pleasure it is to ride you."

He stopped me at the wall and reached up with my hand, grasping a handhold. He pulled me up, finding hand- and footholds in the shadows and climbing me up and across the wall with perfect control, as if I'd done it a million times. My chill-hardened nipples brushed often against the rough stones, and he chuckled darkly into my ear as we both felt the harsh spikes of sensation shoot through me. He climbed me up, and up, until we neared the top of the wall, towering above the cold, dark waters of the lake, and I'm sure that I'd have become dizzy if he'd turned my head so I could look down, but he kept my head tipped up, so all I saw was the dark pink stone of the castle wall and the stars twinkling above in the chilly night.

We must have climbed halfway along the castle wall before we came to a niche. It was a ledge—an alcove, of sorts, invisible from any direction except the front—set into the wall, dozens of feet above the lake, facing the city lights far in the distance to the north, beneath the blanket of stars above. Deattán sat me down on the ledge, feet hanging over the edge, and pointed my eyes out toward the dark, sparkling night.

"You are the first human to sit here in almost fifty years, my dear," he murmured into my ear.

"It's beautiful," I thought. "Why isn't it all covered with bird sh-...poop?"

"Ah, well, if you must know all my secrets," he whispered, "the birds are my friends—family, really—and they...keep it tidy for me. It is not a thing that comes naturally to birds, I assure you. They know this is my favorite place in this prison, and that I love nothing better than to ride some lovely woman up here for a bit of fun."

"Fun?" I thought. This was a pretty view, if a bit on the chilly side—at least if you were naked—but 'fun' was a word Deattán used for something else.

That thought must have been 'loud' enough for him to hear, because he chuckled and said, "So quickly, my dear girl, you know me so well. As you suspect, here is the sort of 'fun' I like to have with pretty girls up here in the dark."

He laid me on my back and spread my knees apart, turning my face toward the stars and the city lights. Then he touched me.

He used my own hands, of course, but he touched me in ways I'd never imagined touching myself, stroking my hands over my breasts, pinching and twisting my nipples—sometimes painfully hard—spreading my legs apart so, so wide and plunging my fingers deep into my core, finding places inside me that brought forth such incredible pleasure that I wept helplessly, there in the cold dark, cumming over and over again from the sure and certain touch of an ancient being with many centuries of sexual skill.

My body lay on the ledge for quite a while, jerking and shuddering, after Deattán stopped me fingering myself. I breathed deeply of the night air—now very cold—until he deemed me recovered enough to climb back down. We collected my clothes from the bridge, and he walked me back to my room.

#####

"Monseur Stephens, Madame Stephens, welcome back," Marc said, as the couple approached the front desk.

They both looked tired, but rather pleased with themselves. Frankie, especially, looked—as a guest from Texas had once phrased it—'rode hard and put up wet.' She was wearing a man's trench coat, pulled together in front, but it didn't hide the dog collar around her neck, or the leash that disappeared beneath it. Her hair was tousled, her lips were puffy and red, and there were dark circles under her eyes, but she was virtually beaming with happiness, and Marc had to smile at her obvious good cheer.

"Marc!" said Dutch jovially, "how's our little girl? Have you been looking out for our Merrie like we asked you to?"

Marc thought back to last night, when he'd watched Merrie walk, naked, right past him, blue eyes staring, clothes clutched casually in her hand, on her way back to her room. There had been cum dripping down her legs, and she'd left a trail of wet footprints down the hall that he'd had to mop up.

"Oh, yes, sir," Marc said, "she's been very well...taken care of while you were away." He glanced at Frankie, who seemed nearly asleep on her feet, though it was only mid-afternoon.

"Well," said Dutch, leaning rather heavily against the desk, "tell her, if she asks, erm, that we're back, but...I think, we're going to take a little nap. That's right, a little afternoon nap, okay?"

"Of course, sir," said Marc, and the couple tottered away toward their room, leaning on one another.

As soon as they were gone, Marc called André. "Are you and Thomas in position?" he asked. Last night, he'd lost track of Merrie, and someone else had gotten to her first. That wasn't going to happen again tonight.

"Yeah," said André, "we're here, one at each end of the hall. She's still in her room."

"Okay," Marc said, "she's ordered another carafe of coffee, so I'll bring it up in a few minutes."

"She's trying to stay awake," André said. Marc had explained the situation to his friends, who had both been hearing stories about the Ouderburg ghost all their lives, so they were excited to be involved. "Are you going to dose her coffee?"

"Nah," said Marc, "she's gone through two pots already. After you have that much, coffee stops working so well. Trust the ghost, and keep your eyes open."

It was after midnight when Thomas called Marc's cell. "She just came out," he said excitedly, "and she's already naked. She's fantastic, Marc, I can't believe those tits!"

"Follow her," Marc said, "but don't touch her or try to interact until she stops walking. I'll be right there."

He called André. "She's on the move," he said. "Thomas is following her; head toward his end of the hallway." He repeated the instructions about waiting to touch Merrie until she settled, then hurried toward the southeast tower.

Marc caught up with his friends at the door to the castle library. They were both just inside the open door, looking at something inside. Peering over André's shoulder, he could see her, sprawled on a sofa, one foot resting on the back so her pussy was on full display. Her vivid sapphire eyes were wide open, staring fixedly at the ceiling, and her big, firm breasts looked like they were about to levitate from her chest.

Marc gave Thomas a nudge. "Go on in," he said quietly, "let's get the door closed. Don't worry, she won't wake up." He checked the hallway, then closed and locked the ornate wooden library door.