The Long Island Anti-Medium

At the end, they always paid for her time.

Maddox cracked first, throwing himself into a full, tongue-plunging kiss that caught Genie by surprise, most welcomely. Not even Elias kissed her, and the man was clearly besotted when he came to call. This one, the handsome charmer so keen to trade wordplay, kissed like a man who couldn't get enough of lips or tongue. He steered Genie to her bedchamber, and pressed her back to the door, sensually caressing her figure.

"How much to sup upon you, pretty one?" He whispered at her ear, taking one hand up as though he would lead her in a waltz. The other strayed into her hair.

"Depends on how well you cook," she teased, and Maddox gave her a cheeky wink.

Without a further word, he opened the door to her bedchamber and full-on carried her over the threshold, to the bed. He never broke their kiss. The man clearly had a sense of romance in him, despite what she would soon come to learn about his daily activities. He also prided himself on his 'services.' The silver tongued rogue might play with the hearts and purses of his social betters, but he willfully gave them (at least) one hell of a night to remember. Half the time his conquests didn't even miss the money... they missed the pleasure.

Before he bothered to remove his trousers, he was under Genie's skirts, supping upon the honey between her thighs. Rather enthusiastically, too. He rivaled even Garth in pussy-pleasing! Didn't fuss to remove her bloomers, either- just drove straight into the split and had his way. The pretty little whore gave out an "Oooooh" and let him undertake his due work, relaxing into the bed.

Many of her clients proved adept with their fingers, but few sought out her dewy core and suckled it to grant ultimate pleasure. Fewer still could make love for more than a few minutes, but at the end of the day, Genie knew her chosen profession was about the purchase of her 'goods' for her Johns' satisfaction. She always sought her own joy, and was more than capable of delivering it to herself. If one of the men she entertained proved... rudimentary in his bed play, she charged him full price and often finished the job on her own, or invited Garth up for a for an afternoon delight. He was always quite happy to oblige.

Maddox was one of the exceedingly rare few, and he brought the wench to a fast shuddering climax before he rode deep and long in her pussy. He even had the unique skill of releasing his seed in short bursts- enabling him to fuck for a good while, come a small bit, resume fucking with increased fervor, and deposit more of his load again- until at last he bathed her insides with sticky fluid and let it settle inside her.

"If you should fall in the family way, my darling, don't hesitate to seek me out." Genie chortled, but let him fall back to her lips and take them again. He did not withdraw from her hot cavern until his soldier was fully spent. After which he proceeded downward to gleefully feast upon that which he had stained. That was new, for Genie, and she came even harder the second time.

The wandering, philandering rascal was instantly infatuated with Genie that very day. On the streets, he sought out the wealthiest, prettiest women. But in quiet and secret? He wanted no one more than he wanted that whore. He even considered settling in Creeksmouth just to make sure he never missed a day inside her tight snatch.

When Maddox walked away satisfied, ready to ply his actual 'trade,' he was one of the lucky ones who only had to pay half. With an invitation to return anytime to boot!

It so happened that Elias passed him on his way out, that first time, and when he found Genie freshly full of another man's cum, it riled him to near violence. He bent her over the bed to plant his own seed in her quivering quim. He did not let up for nearly 2 hours. By the time he did, the girl was passed out asleep. Fully naked, stuffed with male essence, and a little battered. Because she would be unable to take other Johns for a day or two (while her ass and breasts healed the marks of his slaps and bites), he paid three times her usual full fee. No negotiation: he simply paid.

Garth watched both men cum and go, and when they had, he left the bar in charge of his second. After popping up to check on his favorite tenant, he found her asleep. So peaceful. The state of her body indicated exactly how well she'd been used. Genie wouldn't be doing any whoring for a few days at least.

As per their long standing arrangement, he helped himself. She sleepily held on as he put himself snug into her body, shooting her swollen flesh full of his slick spend, on top of theirs. Then he tidied her, tucked her in, kissed her forehead, and let her sleep. He knew she'd wander down to the saloon, bowlegged and groggy, for a late supper at some point. He'd give her extra, because she was going to need it.

After all, she was already paid in full.

It was remarkable, really, how the three of them felt so much alike, and yet detested each other for what they saw as poaching on their territory. No one outside of the three of them caused such reactions in the men. Garth alone witnessed the dozens and hundreds of clients Genie took to her rooms, and yet there was not so much as a flicker of jealousy for any of them. Perhaps because he knew the woman felt nothing for those masses. Instead, he saw in her face and demeanor what she felt for the other two.

That was what terrified each one of them. If she married a single one, she was lost to the others. None of them knew how to accept such an eventuality if it ever came, even though all of them very clearly would happily have taken her for their own.

***

Jane awoke incredibly early the following morning, the day of the tour, and she was dripping wet. It had already been agreed that she and her team would meet the men at the site of their construction at high noon, just like in the old wild days. However, after a quick phone call, she herself was off to meet them at their home, instead. Immediately. The desperate ache in her cunt demanded relief, and it seemed no matter what she did to herself, it wasn't going to be enough.

When she got there, hair mussed, carrying a small suitcase with her actual clothes for the tour, M greeted her at the door in amusement. He welcomed her back to the parlor, where Cal waited for them both.

Randy was reluctantly roused not long after, and only got up because the object of their interest was visiting.

"What brings you to our domicile so early, hmm?" M asked her airily, delighted and dancing inside.

"Had a bit of a restless night's sleep," she informed them with the sarcasm of someone who was excessively horny and begrudged her hosts for it. "I had the most incredible series of extremely vivid dreams. Like, way more real and sensory than any dreams I've ever had before. Featuring your alleged ghosts."

The news perked all of them up. Individually, they wondered if the men had shown her the same blistering memories as they had been shown themselves.

"Tell us," Calvin demanded, hoarse with blatant lust. Jane complied.

She detailed all of her dalliances with the three males whose so desperately sought their missing lover of long ago. Their feelings, their techniques- right down to the tender kiss Garth had dropped on her forehead. "That was some incredibly hot shit, babe." Randolph, with the saloon master inside his head, was certainly awake and alert after she finished describing the memories. Not dreams, but true memories. Jane could swear she saw the faces of the ghosts in each of the men who'd brought her here. All of them pleased.

"So hot, in fact, global warming told me to slow down," the TV personality deadpanned. "I've never had dreams like that."

"How unfortunate, my lovely," M (or maybe Garth) cooed.

"It won't be the last time," the large man informed her, his arms crossed loosely over his chest. "Now that they've connected, the ghosts can enter your mind during sleep at will. When you're awake, they'll still need a conduit. Us. When we go down in that mine, we'll be able to eradicate that barrier."

"I do have some questions about that," Jane said. "Will whatever you have to do eliminate it all together, or just for these ghosts? After we have the lockdown, what does it mean for them, and Genie, if we make contact? Do they finish their business and pass on?" Their facial expressions indicated that her questions were not unexpected or unpredicted, but there was a mixture of thoughtfulness and determination in them. The men took their time exchanging looks that communicated without words.

For all Jane knew they had a psychic link.

"To answer your first question, we think it will take down the barrier for everything, or at least teach you how to lower it. Yesterday we forced our way through it so our ghosts could begin making contact." The blond shrugged. "Whether it fully crumbles or not, maybe that's up to you."

"Other than that, our spirit guys have a request," Randy said, breaking the moment of silence. "The three of them are on the list of bodies not found after the collapse. Specifically, their heads were not found. Parts of them were, but in the mess left behind, it was hard to tell whose limbs and torsos were whose."

"Makes sense," Jane answered. That was grim, but it checked out.

"One of our goals since the possession has been to recover their heads and see them buried. If we find out what happened to Genie, they want to be buried with her." Calvin sounded quite grave as he reported this news. "We have the resources to pay for a proper interment, monument, headstones, whatever. We just need the actual bodies."

"You could have a cenotaph done, if the unfortunate occurs and you don't recover them," Jane said, sympathetic. "It would be something."

"Cenotaph?" M repeated.

"A monument commemorating a person or people who are not buried under it," she replied.

"Actually that's a lovely idea." The beautiful young man nodded, his eyes misty. "If we don't put all the pieces together, we can at least pay tribute to them all by building something- maybe a statue- at the site of the saloon."

"I love* that idea." The woman reached out in empathy and placed her hand on M's forearm, giving him a comforting rub.

"If we do find the bodies, and Genie, it'll be our pleasure to reunite them in death." Cal continued.

"That's... quite romantic, really. I hope we do." Jane felt herself getting teary. As evidenced by her dreams, those men truly loved Genie LaRue. She wanted nothing more than to give them her back. Still, she swallowed against the lump in her throat. "If I am her, reborn, then what? Will they stay with you, and by consequence, me?"

There, her living men smiled.

"They seem to think they'll either pass on, or become parts of us, satisfied knowing that we're all together again." There was Maddox, twinkling out of his counterpart's eye.

"Alright, alright I can go with that," Jane affirmed, starting to get excited. "I'm ready see the town."

"Let's get to it." All three got into motion, as did the woman they were seriously infatuated with already. Jane let them know she had to go get ready, and would meet them on location.

The goal would be to start shooting the preliminary footage beforehand, setting up for the lockdown closest to the actual holiday. Plus, Jane needed to meet up with her team to work out the framing of the episode, the research, and contact a medium to bring on board. Felix would make the inquiries and rally the troops. As soon as possible. The entire show's crew was used to hauling ass to a haunted location at the drop of a hat.

Three weeks to the lockdown! Not a one of them could stand to wait.

***

When the ghost huntress met back up with the guys in town, at the site of the saloon where it all began, Jane was dressed to the nines in a short velvet skirt, ruched up and made fluffy with a petticoat, a corset in stripes of bottle green and black, a puffy sleeved black blouse, her hair done up with a jaunty fascinator hat perched precariously at a tilt on her head. A large wispy feather stuck out and gave the trio of possessed entrepreneurs of an old timey saloon girl- too fucking fitting. She was wearing Genie's cameo choker on her throat. Beneath the skirt there were green stockings and leather ankle boots.

"Genie," Cal bellowed when he saw her, and Jane realized- as he came charging over to sweep her into his arms- that his voice sounded all wrong. For him, anyway. It was absolutely Elias', from her memories. (Shit, when did she start thinking of them as her memories?) "I ought to tan your hide with my belt while I ride you, missy." Before she could even respond, he was smashing a kiss to her lips.

Helpless, Jane swallowed his tongue, moaning, but fought the urge to close her eyes against the unexpected embrace. Instead she attempted to furtively glance around, wanting to see where the other two were, and if a change could be detected in them. Cal/Elias completely arrested her attention with a snarl, though. He only broke his savage, demanding kiss to talk.

"I should never have left you," Back to the kiss. "I should have taken you with me," he lamented, before bruising her lips again. Jane tore herself away, gasping for air.

"You all still would have died there," she answered, trying to be soothing.

"Better to die together and stay together," the former miner hissed. He seemed not to like Jane's refusal to count herself in that number.

"Still as beautiful as the day we met," came the hallowed tone of one Maddox Lexington. "Seeing your chambers all bloody and tossed over damn near killed me, darlin'."

"Of course it did," she spat back, beginning to feel overwhelmed and hot. Not merely in a sexual way, either... her forehead seemed to burn. Her mind was spinning. "You loved her! Not knowing if she was murdered, or taken away- why wouldn't that cause you immense distress and pain?" Her questions weren't answered, because they didn't need to be. Instead, Maddox kissed her. Slowly. Sweetly. Deeply. It spoke to her soul, and the long-buried past.

"My favorite whore," Garth rasped in her ear, coming from the side while his one-time rival finished his business. "I missed you every goddamned moment from the minute I found you missin'. You was mine first, and I failed you. Can y'ever forgive me?"

Jane squeaked at the sudden breach of his hand between her legs, where all that stopped him from being inside her cunt right there was the razor thin layer of her stockings. He still dug his fingers in and rubbed, rubbed and prodded enough to get some of her damp moisture out of the material against her pussy slit. She moaned out loud, giving a lower groan when he brought those fingers to his nose and inhaled. "You don't need her forgiveness. It wasn't your fault."

The man ignored the statement, focusing instead on her phrasing. "Deny it all you want, little whore. You look like Genie. You smell like Genie. Ergo, to us, there's no doubt."

With his declaration there, Garth did something he never would have done in life. He lifted his two pressed fingertips up to let the others have a whiff of the girl they all sorely missed. Jane swayed. The men breathed her essence in with hearty sighs of longing.

"E-even if I am," she started, feeling almost drunk, affected by the truth of spirits before her. "I was reborn, and I'm not 'her' anymore. I don't know if you'll ever really get to talk to her."

"Your cunt talks, minx," Garth finished, jerking his chin to Cal/Elias.

The big man stepped toward her again and forcibly spread her legs apart. He dug his fingers into the crux of her thighs himself and pressed into the crotch of her stockings. With a surprising pop and a sudden piercing that was somewhat pain and mostly pleasure, he tore through the material and pressed his finger inside her briefly.

"Hey!" She cried out, offended by the destruction of a perfectly good pair of stockings.

"Don't fret, lover, we'll buy you as many as you want." Maddox soothed, dropping a kiss on her shoulder.

"We need access to your honey-drip all day long," Garth informed her, dead seriously.

Elias finger-fucked her ferociously for a good few minutes, causing her to quake with pleasure standing there. She clutched him for support.

"Yes, she talks to us. She is definitely in you, wench. This is Genie's cunt. Right down to the pleasure-spots, how you squeeze on me, and how wet you are for the three of us right now. Glad you're not wearing those new-fangled britches they got now." He drove three digits into her, making her clutch him harder, nails out. Hard, fast, he stabbed her insides and made sure to graze every place on her inner walls that once made Genie squeal.

'Jane' squealed, just like she did. Her pussy took everything he wanted it to have, just like hers did.

"Soon," Garth said, having unexpectedly dropped to his knees. He was talking to the girl's loins. "Soon we'll fuck and fill you again, my sweet whore's cunt." He pressed a kiss to her shorn mound and then got back to his feet.

The eeriness in their faces faded. Cal drew his fingers back out of Jane and slurped her liquid arousal off them greedily. Though he stood firm, it was clear that all three of them paid a price to channel the dead men. It left them slightly woozy, just as she felt. Her forehead still prickled and burned.

"Sorry about that," M said, offering a hug. "Was your outfit choice on purpose?"

"Well kind of," Jane replied, still gathering herself. "I packed it after your invitation, thinking it would be funny and kitschy. Apparently, it was also a bit closer to home than anticipated."

"Genie wore outfits just like that," Randy croaked, still staring. "You know she often sang and danced at the saloon, which attracted customers to both the watering hole, and her bed."

Alessandra and Felix's voices soon wandered toward Jane's ear. Both of them were talking excitedly about the town around them. The men turned to look, and Jane waved. The producer was using his GoPro, pointing at various centuries-old buildings and the remnants of the life that once thrived here. Alessandra had a handheld camera of her own. This was only the initial lookabout, but raw footage was always useful. It would also help them keep track of interesting tidbits when film time came.

The trio acted as if nothing had just happened between them and Jane. The groups greeted each other warmly.

"Well this is a perfect time to introduce you all to the woman our haunting is centered upon," M said after the handshakes went round (Cal made sure to shake with his clean hand). He produced a laminated photo from inside his jacket. In grainy black and white was a woman, posed with her hands on a bar top. The background must've been the saloon that once belonged to Garth, where Genie lived and entertained. She was dressed stunningly similarly to Jane's outfit currently, though clearly in the true historical fashion. Alessandra gasped at the photo reveal.

Jane had to admit... Genie LaRue did bear a striking resemblance to herself. Her face was a bit more heart-shaped, her figure a different map of curves. No spectacles to be seen. Lips either plumper or exaggerated with makeup, but it was there all the same.

"Oh my God, Jane!" Alessandra touched her hand to her mouth in shock. "We're definitely going to have to open the episode with this picture and yours side by side. The necklace!" They must've noticed she was wearing the one from the bust with her chosen outfit.

"Jane, how did you come up with this outfit? It's so perfect," Felix marveled.

"Sheer coincidence, actually," the TV star answered.

"This is giving me the willies." Felix crossed himself, shuddering.

"I've already begun drafting the opening monologue," said Jane, using her hands for emphasis. "Creeksmouth, West Virginia. It's not a famous name... yet. After my visit, I hope to be able to say I put it on the map. Who knew that when I was invited to see and experience a forgotten haunt in an old coal mining boom town, I would find out that the heart of the haunting would be a woman who bears an uncanny resemblance to myself? An enticing personal wager with my hosts begs the question: Am I the key to solving the paranormal unrest lingering on the fringes of this ghost town?"