The Locked Rooms of Clapham

"Lynda, you were going to say something? I hope it is not locked room related. We've really had enough of that." He looked at Lynda whose face betrayed that was exactly what she was going to mention.

Richard looked hard at her. "You want to share some more details about your locked room experience. Is that it?" He sounded exasperated, like he had really had far more than enough of other people's problems.

Lynda looked nervously at me, so I knew what was coming next. "Not me," she stammered, "Emily."

"Thanks," I smiled at her meaning the opposite.

"She didn't want me to tell you, but it's started again."

Richard and Thomas both looked at me, expecting me to say something as Lynda had urged. "Go on, tell them," she insisted.

I cursed my weakness in telling her about it. "No," I spat at her. "I thought we had an agreement."

Lynda seemed immune to my hostility. "Go on," she insisted like it was a funny story or something.

"You'll be the next ghost haunting this house if you don't let off," I tried. But the boys laughed and Lynda did not seem fussed. I relented. "Okay, yes, it's happening again. And obviously, this time, it's me."

"Juicy secrets!" Thomas exclaimed.

So I told my housemates. That I had been visited in the dead of night as they had experienced. That I had woken -- or I thought that I had woken in the deepest dark of the night with another person in my bed with me. I was on my side facing whoever it was in my bed. In the dark I could make out a presence only, not anything recognisable.

"What are you doing here?" I demanded.

A voice that seemed to be resonating inside me but still came from the person, the shape next to me, announced "I'm here because you want me to be here."

"So I am consenting to this?" I wondered as I turned in my onto my other side to face away from this stranger who was both in my bed and in my head.

"Indeed you are," came the disconnected voice from behind me as a hand reached over to gently run from my shoulder blade to my bottom, caressing me softly, not in itself at all sexual except that it was turning me on.

"How did you know to do that?" I wondered. The hand was now under my pyjama top, gently grasping a breast. What the Hell, I thought and as though I was under some spell, I took my top off over my head. The hand reached down from my breast along my ribs, down to my solar plexus. I noticed the other hand was inside my pyjama pants caressing the flesh of my bottom. So I made it easier to do that by slipping my pants down my thighs and off too. I was naked and literally in the hands of this stranger.

"This is outrageous," Richard blurted, reminding me that I was now recounting this intimate occurrence to these people, my housemates who I had not even known only a few short months before.

"Were you turned on?" Lynda asked, seemingly because she knew something about being in such a situation.

The funny thing, I continued, was that I absolutely wanted whatever was going to happen next. It was like a dream, it's hard to describe but I felt a sense of safety in the hands of this person whose face I had not even seen and who was tantalising me in the most intimate manner.

"How do you know that it wasn't a dream?" Thomas probed.

"That," I agreed, "is a good question and one that I will answer at the end of this revelation. You can then be the judges and tell me what you think." I shifted in my seat at the thought of what I was going to describe next.

"I did not have to do anything, I realised as a rock-hard cock rubbed against the back of my thigh. The fingers that had been caressing my bottom were now working on my quim."

"Your what?" Richard interjected.

"My pussy lips," I explained, to his apparent satisfaction. "This uninvited visitor to my bed was expertly working his magic with his fingers now deep inside me and an erect penis pressing against my side and ready to invade me. And suddenly there it was, he thrust from behind me, then imbedded himself inside me while also working my clit with his fingers. He knew what he was doing and he was doing it well. Under the spell of this magician I was quickly reaching the point of no return, the point where no matter what he did I was going to cum and cum very strongly. And sure enough as this considerate lover still worked my clit and was fucking me in just the right way, I had one of the best orgasms of my life. And, dare I add, I do cum easily. But this one was special."

I paused.

Thomas shook his head. "Sounds like the ultimate wet dream. How do you know that it wasn't?"

"Well, this is where it gets interesting. Did I mention how tightly he gripped me as he came inside of me? When I checked myself in the morning I was bruised with the markings of having been gripped tight, you could make out the fingers in the spot just above my bottom, in a place that I cannot reach with my hand. The mark could only have been made by someone else. And there was a matching hand print, an impression on the mirror on my dresser. A hand that was somewhat larger than mine. But the same hand that bruised my back."

My house mates were silent for a moment. Eventually Richard spoke up, the practical one. "Was there any video footage?"

I smiled. "Not the first time, since I wasn't expecting any visitors that night. But this is where it gets really interesting. Because after that first visit I did set up a camera in the bedroom. And this, believe me, is an even more mysterious tale."

"Give us a moment," Lynda requested shifting somewhat uncomfortably in her chair. Was she squirming? Was she turned on. "I think we all need a break," she added and got up to almost run to the bathroom.

"Whatever that was about," Richard smirked. Thomas glared at him.

"She's easily, um, activated," Thomas apologised, using what I thought was about the worst possible word to describe Lynda's actions.

"Maybe it's the house?" I suggested and the two males looked at me as if they had not thought of that possibility, but yes, I may just be right. Lynda returned to the room, adjusting her slightly ruffled hair, which I did think was a bit strange. I can either ask her about that or continue my story, I thought.

So I continued with my story. "I set up the cameras again, this time one in the passage outside my door and one inside my bedroom, both with the motion sensors, the same as before with Richard. The one outside my room showed nothing all night once I was inside for the night with the door locked."

"Nothing in the hallway," Richard repeated.

"Right. But inside my room things were happening. I again woke in the dark of the night and felt that a body next to mine on my bed. As I lay there in the gloom, not only did I sense the extra weight in my bed of this uninvited interloper but I could hear breathing, plain and clear, gentle at first but as I sensed a moving from this body next to mine the breathing started to gradually speed up and grow deeper. Then as the movement became a definite undulation, the breathing started to break, interspersed with short gasps. I was coming to an inescapable conclusion. Was this stranger in my bed getting themselves off? That seemed to me to be the only answer which could explain what was going on. And it appeared confirmed when the stranger reached over suddenly and grasped one of my hands firmly in theirs as they kept on with whatever they were doing, presumably with their other hand."

"Increasingly odd," Thomas observed. Richard looked hard at him since that sort of silly exclamation was his preserve.

Ignoring that I continued. "And when they had finished, they gently removed what I was wearing, pressing their body next to mine both of us completely bare. And this was when I made the most startling discovery."

For the benefit of my three housemates, I stopped the description, widened my eyes and waited a tick in order to make sure that I had their full attention. To my surprise, I had not noticed that our landlady had come in to the room and was sitting close to Richard who was trying hard to concentrate on me and not her. Happy I had the audience hooked, I continued.

"I put my hand between their legs to discover that they were a woman, not a man."

Richard could not control himself. "Each more dastardly than the one before!" he exclaimed, particularly staring at Thomas to remind him who was the expressive one.

The rest of us looked hard at him. "Shut up, Richard," Thomas complained eventually on behalf of all of us.

"Well, I cannot say that I had that much experience there, but as the saying goes, do to them what you would like them to do to you. And given that my visitor had in all probability given themselves a pretty satisfying orgasm, I did not have to do much. They were wet. I needed just a few light touches between her legs, a finger running up the insides of her thighs and stopping just short. A gentle trill over the outer lips getting a gasp of delight. And then she kissed me."

"We must expunge this succubus!" Richard exclaimed.

"Can a succubus attack a woman?" Thomas asked.

"Don't look at me," the landlady complained.

"Let Emily finish her story," Lynda demanded.

I took a deep breath. Why was I going into such detail, I wondered. But some need forced me to tell them everything. "This was passionate, breast to breast, lips to lips, thigh to thigh. My silent invader broke from my mouth to gently kiss her way down my neck, bite playfully at my shoulder then continue on her way, nibbling at the tender skin just below my naval. And then she dived in, all tongue and teeth around my clit and deeper. It took me a moment to acclimatise to this attack before I responded as I expected she wished, my hips humping into her face as she attempted to hold me steady to do to me what she knew that I wanted. I got a mind-blowing orgasm from her. She kept going while I rode the wave only to come back up to nuzzle my neck when I was finished. And then she was gone."

"Truly supernatural, Emily," Richard commented. His look said 'that's what you get for doubting the existence of the dark forces.'

"And now the evidence," I continued. "In the morning I had a bite mark on my neck. And this time on the mirror there was an impression of a hand, this time somewhat smaller than mine."

"And the video?" Richard demanded.

I put my hands on the table and leaned towards the others. But then I hesitated and reached up to pull my top away from my neck to show the mark that the unnamed woman had bitten into me, furnishing evidence of the event. I replaced my top adjusting it around my neck again and placed my hands in my lap. Calmly I told them the answer to their question. "There was nothing on the video."

And to prove it, after a moment's final hesitation about sharing such a private moment with the people in the room, I hit play on the video. And there I was nude, the covers pushed down to the bottom of the bed while I writhed in evident ecstasy. I writhed and flexed by myself.

"Impressive," Lynda affirmed, "what do you think we should do?"

I shrugged, as did the two boys. Sometimes there is just no explanation. I would just have to be happy with my infernal roster of lovers. Richard had the landlady, Lynda and Thomas had each other. And who did I have? I could only imagine. Somehow, this is what the house seems to have decided for me. The house rules.

This story is entered in the Halloween competition, so please check the locks on your doors and vote if the spirit is willing.