tagNonHumanWail of the Banshee

Wail of the Banshee


Shouts of "Trick or Treat" echoed through the air as little goblins, superheroes, pirates, and princesses roamed the neighborhood on their annual quest for free candy. At the end of the cul-de-sac, pounding music blared out of run-down ranch-style house. Parents escorting their kids seemed skeptical and came all the way to the door rather than waiting on the curb. As the kids rang the bell, the noise got louder as the door opened, revealing a crowd of college students dancing around an almost-certainly illegal keg. While the costumes were a bit risqué, it was too early in the evening for things to have gotten out of hand. The pack of kids moved on with their new loot, and the father with them grinned as he saw a pair of partiers slip out the side door and into the wooded backyard.

Dana was already buzzed when she dashed out the side door, grinning impishly back at Richard. The lustful gleam in his eye fit perfectly with his devil costume -- black slacks, crimson silk shirt, and of course he was horny, an elastic cord holding the spikes on his forehead. She didn't mind; she felt much the same. As the crisp night air hit her, it was a shocking contrast to the heat inside. She suddenly wondered if the host, Michael, had intentionally cranked up the heat to get the girls to show even more skin. The sudden change in temperature made her a bit light-headed (though the beer contributed too) and she stumbled as she reached the trees.

Richard was right behind her, caught her arm to steady her, and turned her toward him, leering down at her. The cold had made her nipples stiffen, and they were now poking clearly against the thin, white peasant blouse she wore. Her ample breasts filled it nicely and she knew that with Richard's height he could enjoy the cleavage on display. She gasped as he pinched her nipple, then pulled her hips tightly against him.

"A tit bit chilly? Lemme warm you up!"

She could feel his growing cock grind against her. She knew he got turned on by this game, and pinched him back through his silk shirt.

"It's getting to you, too, I see."

She pushed away and ran a few yards more before peeking out from behind a large fir tree, her long blond hair contrasting with the bark.

"Betcha can't catch me!"

Richard dashed forward, and she squealed slightly as he caught her, then grunted ("Oof!") as he pushed her back into the tree. He kissed her roughly, hungrily, while squeezing her breast and pinning her in place with his hips. Dana grabbed his ass as her tongue dueled his. She could taste the beer and whiskey he'd been drinking and knew he must be at least as tipsy as she was. His warm, strong hands felts wonderful to her, but the tree bark not so much. Sliding her hand around front, she grasped his hard cock through his pants, rubbing her way down to cup his balls.

"Mmm, I like how strong you are. It's too cold and rough here, though -- c'mon, this way."

She pushed him back and ran further on. Spotting an old, abandoned house ahead, she ran up the gray, weathered steps and paused at the door. Richard had stopped at the edge of the yard, looking at her oddly.

"Planning to come with me?" Dana asked with a wink.

"Uh, in the old O'Connell housh? That place is haunted..."

A little surprise at his hesitance, Dana bent over slightly, wiggling her short, cornflower blue skirt tight across her rear. She knew the tops of her white thigh-high stockings were teasing him.

"You're not afraid are you? Don't you want to see what's... inside?"

With that, she flipped her skirt up, flashing him a view of her white silk thong that did nothing to cover her tight ass. As the skirt fell back into place she bounced into the house.

It was dim and shadowy inside, but notably warmer. The numerous windows let the full moon shine in but kept the autumn breeze out. Dana began wandering around the small house, avoiding the worst of the cobwebs and dust. In a back room she discovered an old mattress on the floor and as she knelt down she discovered that while it was a bit musty, it seemed otherwise clean.

"Oh good, you found a shpot."

Dana jumped slightly as she turned and found Richard right behind her. Smiling, she laid back on the mattress and reached up for him to join her. She knew that with one knee up, her skirt wasn't really covering her thong, and she wondered if he could see that she was already feeling wet.

Richard took her hand but yanked her awkwardly back onto her knees.

"No, no. Country shluts service the devil, [hic] not the other way 'round. Show me what you got!"

Dana grimaced a bit, as this wasn't quite the game she had in mind. Still, it was Halloween and some role-playing could be fun. She rubbed the front of his pants, gradually working open his fly. Licking his hard cock, she eased his balls out and rolled them in her hand while she looked up at him. Richard sighed lustily and looked back down at her with a wicked grin.

"Oh yeah, suck it, Dana."

Something in his expression was disturbing but Dana carried on, wrapping her lips around his swollen head and beginning to bob and suck on him. She felt him reach down into her blouse and squeeze her tits firmly. She was starting to get into it until he grabbed her head and began thrusting deeply into her mouth; his other hand pinched her nipple harshly. With a yelp, she pushed back away from him, falling onto the mattress and covering her hurt breast.

"What the hell, Richard! Take it easy, OK?"

Seeming to ignore her, he knelt down to grab her, pushing her blouse down and pawing roughly at her again.

"Naw, you grabbed the devil by the tail. Time to give up yours!"

A loud creak from the hallway made them both look up in surprise, but with very different opinions of the interruption. When nothing more happened, Dana looked back at Richard, serious concern on her face. His showed nothing but uncaring lust. As she tried to squirm away, he flipped her over and lay on top. As she fought, she felt his cock poking between her legs, Richard clearly trying to penetrate her, apparently not caring where.

"No! Stop! Richard, let me go!"

He just grunted, still thrusting at her, now reaching around to maul her chest. Dana began to cry, knowing that he was too strong to fight off, and suddenly felt very cold.

"LEEEEEEAAAAVVVVVE! DIIIIIIIEEEEEE!!!" The howl reverberated off the walls in the small room, and Dana felt Richard leap off of her. Scrambling away, she turned and saw a glowing figure hovering near the closet. It looked like a ghastly woman, wearing torn robes flowing around her. Translucent in corpse-white, angry red, and sickly green, the woman was facing Richard, tense hands reaching out for him. Her sunken, withered face was distorted with rage, teeth bared, eyes empty. Straggly, silvery hair writhed out in all directions from her head.


She started towards Richard, himself now pale with fear, and he bolted out of the bedroom with the woman chasing him.

Having no place else to go, Dana scuttled into the adjoining bathroom, locking the door behind her. As she cowered in the corner, a distant part of her brain pointed out that a ghost probably wouldn't be slowed by a rusty old lock.

A couple minutes later, Dana's breathing had begun to slow and she wondered if she'd imagined it all. Maybe she herself had been screaming and Richard had merely fled. That seemed more realistic. She jumped at the sound of a light knock at the bathroom door.

"Who is it?" she asked nervously.

"Dana?" came a soft, decidedly female voice, "Are you OK? Are you hurt?"

"Who are you?"

"My name is Kristen. It's safe now. He's gone. You can come out now."

Dana thought she remembered meeting a Christine at the party, but maybe she'd misheard the name, either then or now. Either way, it would be nice to not be alone as she headed home. Thank goodness this Kristen had come out to the house also.

When she opened the door, Dana nearly shrieked again. On the far side of the room stood the screeching woman she'd seen earlier. Sort of. The robes were the same, style, but no longer torn and the colors were muted, attractive shades. No longer sunken or withered, Kristen looked like a pretty woman in her late teens or early twenties; she was pulling a silver comb through her hair, but stopped when Dana appeared.

"I'm sorry if I scared you earlier. I didn't want to. When I get upset like that my hair gets awfully wild and takes a while to comb out; that scares a lot of girls."

Kristen smiled weakly at her attempt at humor. When she didn't move from her spot against the wall, Dana decided Kristen wasn't likely to be a threat, and moved slowly back into the room. Noting how translucent Kristen was, and the fact that she seemed to hover weightlessly on the floor, Dana tentatively asked,

"Are-are you a ghost?"

"Sort of. I think the proper name is bean sidhe, a banshee."

She sat down on the mattress, gesturing an invitation for Dana to join her, and continued,

"I kind of live here, if you'll pardon the expression, though I can only really appear under certain circumstances and only inside the house. Mostly I'm here to help women like you."

"Like me?" Dana sat down, intrigued. Kristen didn't seem scary or evil like the ghost stories she'd heard. Richard had been a lot scarier... she shuddered at the thought.

"Women who've been attacked, who are in danger. I do like tonight and scare off the attacker, then comfort the victim if possible."

She put a surprisingly solid and warm arm around Dana's shoulders.

"You're safe now, and wiser. I can tell you're stable enough to get through this. You'll not only shun him from now on, but also warn others about him. And given how fit you are (Kristen gave Dana's athletic body a firm squeeze), you'll have no trouble in whatever kind of self-defense class I'm sure you'll sign up for tomorrow."

Dana turned and smiled at Kristen. The banshee was right. And remarkably pretty this close up.

"How can you be so solid if you're a ghost? Well, a banshee, I guess."

"I can manifest a body this one night a year, and only inside the house. Not that having a body does me much good, but it's helpful for comforting others." Kristen paused. "I'm glad I could help before YOU got hurt.," she said, suddenly sounding especially sad and looking away.

Now Dana found herself feeling sympathetic. "Did someone hurt you here? Isn't that how you become a ghost?"

Kristen began sobbing, and her robe fell off one shoulder. Dana reached out to hold her new friend, her hand resting on the banshee's soft, smooth skin.

"It's OK. You're safe here; you're not alone."

Kristen turned and nuzzled her face into Dana's neck.

"It was terrible! It'd never been with a boy before; I didn't know what to expect. He was rough and I was scared, but I didn't know -- maybe that's how it was supposed to be. It didn't even feel good, it just hurt."

"You didn't say no? Or did he just rape you?"

"No, not really. I mean, I wanted it, I thought I loved him. I mean, you and -- Richard? -- it seemed like you wanted it at first too. But you at least knew what should and shouldn't happen; you knew when to say no. I didn't. And then when he started pushing me around, trying to get me to stand just right, I tripped down the stairs. I broke my neck and he just ran away, leaving me there to be found with my torn nightgown up around my waist. I don't even know what it's like to kiss someone right, don't know how it's supposed to feel good!"

Kristen began sobbing more, and Dana could feel the ghost's tears roll down her neck and chest, gradually dampening her blouse. Dana continued to stroke the Kristen's head and shoulder, whispering softly into her ear.

"It's OK. I'm here. It gets better."

She gave the ghost tender kisses on her ear and head, continuing to comfort her. Dana felt Kristen slowly calm, stop crying, and begin returning similar kisses to Dana's neck. They gradually kissed their way along until the two women were staring into each others eyes -- Kristen's silver irises nearly reflecting the deep blue of Dana's. The blond slowly leaned in the last inch, gently pressing her lips to the ghost's.

Dana pulled back slightly, smiling, and said, "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Kristen smiled back, wiping away the last of her tears, "Not at all. Is that what it's supposed to be? With boys?"

"It doesn't feel exactly the same, but it can feel just as nice. Not all guys are jerks like the one's we were talking about. And when there's not a nice guy around, sometimes a girl turns to a friend."

She kissed Kristen again, this time more firmly, more actively. She felt the ghost responding, kissing her back, pulling her closer. Their kissing became impassioned and they continued stroking each others hair and shoulders. Dana caressed Kristen's arm, gradually pushing the robe down further until her hand glided smoothly from arm to breast, caressing it.

"Oh!" gasped Kristen, startled. Then she relaxed; "Actually, that's really nice..."

Her head fell back and Dana began kissing her neck, her collarbone, and more firmly circling and squeezing Kristen's small breasts. She could feel the nipple hardening under her hand as soft sighs began to escape from the banshee.

"I want you to experience some of how good it can feel. After what you did for me, it's the least I can do."

Dana continued slowly down across Kristen's chest, firmly squeezing and lifting her breasts. Soon she was kissing around them, spiraling inward, until pausing, the exhaled warmly on the nipple. Dana's tongue softly began circling it, then building to alternating between licks and flicks and then adding in sucking for a moment or two. Kristen responded by arching her back, pressing her tits into Dana's face, and sighing, gasping, and mewling as new, exquisite sensations assailed her.

She offered no resistance as Dana eased her robe the rest of the way off and began caressing her legs. Kristen's eyes popped open when Dana's hand worked its way up to her pussy, resting atop it for a moment. At the first firm rub, though, her eyes rolled back and a moan of pleasure escaped her lips. Her moans grew more intense and frequent as Dana rubbed the folds of her pussy together, then began sliding one finger, then two, between them. Dana was surprised by how wet a banshee could become, but loved the heat and response she was getting; she pressed on. And in. Kristen released a guttural noise as the first finger slipped into her cunt, penetrating her slowly. She squeezed her breasts and pulled the nipples as Dana's finger curled inside her and slid in and out. Her breathing had become ragged, coming only in fits and starts, mere gasps and gulps.

Soon Dana had kissed her way down Kristen's body, across her taut stomach, and through the natural thatch of soft, silvery pubic hair. As she started licking Kristen's pussy, tasting the tangy sweetness of the natural wetness she pulled from inside, she could hear the keening of the banshee, who now writhed beneath her. With a grin, Dana shifted her tongue upwards, applying the same licking, flicking, and sucking to Kristen's clit that she'd recently applied to her nipples. At the same time, she quickened the pace of her now two fingers deep inside. Kristen was clearly on the edge -- her entire body was tense, her moans and little squeals were constant and plaintive, her hands clenched the mattress. Knowing how close she was, Dana decided to have mercy. She started to hum.

That little bit of added vibration was all it took. Kristen's back suddenly arched unnaturally high and then the tension suddenly broke, and her body erupted in spasms. Her fingers nearly ripped through the mattress as she shook, thrashed, flailed about. Her head banged back onto the cushioning and Dana had to throw her free arm across the girl's hips to hold them even remotely in place to continue her sensory onslaught. She had to close her eyes as Kristen's body became increasingly luminescent. She had become as bright as a spotlight when suddenly the scream of Kristen's orgasm changed pitch, becoming significantly higher and much louder -- she began to truly wail.

Much has been said about a banshee's wail, but no story can compare to the reality. Years, decades, perhaps centuries of pent up disappointment, sadness, longing, and arousal were suddenly released. The wail went on for a full minute and the walls shook with its intensity. Dana was bucked off and had to plug her ears and clench her eyes.

When the wail faded and Dana turned back to Kristen, she saw that the banshee lay slumped on the mattress, her breathing shallow. As her eyes adjusted, Dana could see that Kristen had reverted to her translucent, incorporeal form and lay there weightlessly.

"THAT is how it's supposed to feel," Dana said quietly, gently kissing the air at Kristen's shoulder.

"Please, PLEASE tell me that you'll come back next year."

"Of course," Dana smiled, "I've never had a more responsive partner, nor one more deserving. And besides," she added with a smirk, "I suspect you can give as good as you get."

Dana walked out of the house pulling her blouse back into position, and she saw a small crowd from the party running towards her from the woods.

"Are you OK?" asked Michael, "Richard came back raving about a ghost, but we thought you'd just turned him down. But then you didn't come back for a while, and then we heard that horrible wailing... We wanted to be sure nothing had happened to you."

Dana was warmed by their concern. She glanced back at the house.

"It's been an eventful night, but I'm just fine now. Let's go back to your house; I've got some plans to make..."

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