tagCelebrities & Fan FictionShannon Stewart Sees a Ghost

Shannon Stewart Sees a Ghost


This is a story about the exotic Shannon Stewart, the June 2000 playmate. Millions of men have been haunted by her mysterious eyes and captured by her voluptuous body. Thousands have tried mightily to bed this beauty; and some even have had the heavenly delights of her flesh. But only a very few know that the haunting sex goddess is also haunted.

The night Shannon Stewart was born was lit by a full moon; but the lovely girl's eighteenth birthday had a new moon and the night sky was pitch black. The witches of the bayou always told her she would be marked and on this dark night of the black new moon she was going to fulfill her destiny. As the church bells in New Orleans chimed midnight the beautiful young virgin was tied to a pole in a private cemetery in one of the oldest parts of the city. Her white wedding dress caught the faintest glimmer of the stars and revealed the lush lines of her curvaceous body. Her creamy breasts were red with her shy blushes as they heaved up and down with her terrified breathing; even under the bridal veil her eyes flashed with panic. A silk scarf was pressed between her soft red lips and muffled any sound she might make as waves of apprehension swept over her like the hot summer breeze. But she was excited too and proud that she was the chosen one. She was waiting tonight to be ravaged and raped by a ghost. Only Shannon's virginal sacrifice could end a curse over two centuries old. Now there was the sound of boots on the ancient pebbled path in this sacred spot. Shannon screamed with joy and dread as the monstrous shadow of the vengeful ghost came to claim her maidenhead.


Months before, in the winter back in her home town, Shannon was with a group of her high school friends sitting in front of the fireplace at the home of the most popular teacher in the school. He was sharing pictures and artifacts from his family estate and he was, in fact, telling the girls a ghost story, the story of his ancestor Captain Le Rouge. He was called the red because he was a bloody pirate in his youth. In his old age he had transformed himself into a respected merchant and even took a wife and raised a family. When his first wife died he took as a bride the most beautiful girl ever to walk the streets of New Orleans, Charlotte Deneuve.

The wedding was on her eighteenth birthday, but that night the captain's evil past caught up with him. Some of his old crew who he had betrayed and abandoned finally caught up with him. They kidnapped the lovely young Charlotte and bound and gagged her on her wedding night. She was still in her wedding gown, and they captured her just as she was going upstairs to her bridal bed. The pirates were stopped as they fled the house but in the brief yet bloody skirmish Charlotte was murdered.

"And to this day, she haunts the house, moaning and crying because her husband did not protect her and possess her on her wedding day," the teacher went on in a muted voice. "It's said that until she finally has a husband that she will not rest."

The girls all took a deep awed breath; Shannon's eyes were wide and they sparkled in the light of the fire. "Here's a photo of a painting that hangs in the family home. It was finished on May 25, 1778, her wedding day, the day she died."

"Wow, that's my birthday!" Shannon said in a hushed voice. Then she blushed, "I mean, May 25th, not like I was born in 1778."

"Holy cow! She looks like you," Shannon's friend Cindy exclaimed. Sure enough, the copy of the old painting looked exactly as if Shannon had posed in an old fashioned dress. She blushed even more and the other girls teased her. The teacher looked serious and solemn for a moment then took the picture back. "No, it doesn't look like Shannon at all. Let's have no more of that." But still his brow was furrowed as he studied Shannon's beautiful face quietly.

For days and weeks afterwards, this was all Cindy could talk about. She was convinced that Shannon was the reincarnated spirit of the woeful Charlotte Deneuve. She even talked Shannon into wearing a gown like the one in the picture to a costume party. Finally a few weeks before Shannon's eighteenth birthday Cindy took her to a gypsy witch.

"Yes," the old hag sputtered as she pawed Shannon's hand eagerly, "There is great power in you. You have the destiny to save a lost soul, to finally allow a wretched creature to find lasting peace. Great strength is here in you but there is a great sacrifice you must make." Shannon was almost ready to faint from the strong smell of the incense burning in the small hut. Cindy was almost jumping up and down with excitement.

"What is the sacrifice?" Shannon asked meekly.

"You must take Charlotte's place in the bridal bed!" Both Shannon and Cindy gasped. Nobody had told the gypsy anything about Le Rouge and Charlotte Deneuve. "Yes, the night is coming, the blackest night. There was no moon that night either." The witch's eyes were rolled back in her head and her hand was stroking Shannon's as if the young girl was a cat. "Le Rouge will do his duty with you and your body will release Charlotte's soul."

"Hey," I don't like this!" Shannon got up and ran out of the room. On the way home the two girls argued. Cindy was positive about what the gypsy meant and she was determined that Shannon was going to do it. Something about the whole thing bothered Shannon and she was afraid, afraid of ghost and afraid of what exactly it meant for Le Rouge to do his duty with her.

Shannon was always busy at beauty pageants and she had little time for dating. Cindy, who was always a bit overweight, had a lot more experience and would get annoyed when Shannon would reject the approaches of boys at school and men at clubs. Secretly Cindy was jealous of Shannon's beauty and innocence and Shannon didn't realize that Cindy had many motives for pushing the virgin to the task.

A couple of days after the visit to the witch. Cindy met Shannon at her locker. "I've got terrible news. I know everything now. You are Charlotte Deneuve and if you don't do this the curse will be on you!" Cindy explained that not only was Shannon the descendant of Charlotte, but their beloved teacher was the direct descendant of Le Rouge and looked exactly like him. The curse would fall on him too. Shannon wanted to laugh but Cindy looked impossibly serious. So serious that they cut English class so Cindy could show her lunar charts, maps of the old city, pictures, and the detailed instructions from the witch. "And look, I even got the key to the mansion." She had told the teacher that she wanted to do a project on the history of New Orleans and would like to take photographs of his family home. "He only uses it during Christmas break. He doesn't like to stay there 'cause, you know, the ghost."

Of course Shannon resisted but Cindy slowly broke her down. Deep inside Shannon there was a real fear that the curse was real. She did look like the picture and it was her birthday that everything happened. Even the stuff with the moon all matched.

So on the fateful day the two girls were skipping school and driving to New Orleans. In the trunk of the car was the bridal gown that Cindy had prepared along with all the instructions and admonishments from the old witch. As they traveled they rehearsed all the details over and over. Shannon was getting more frightened by the minute but she also felt a curious tingle and thrill at the idea of meeting this sexy ghost.

Cindy had taken charge of everything and had insisted on making an appointment an exclusive salon in the city. Shannon hair was washed and perfumed and piled delicately on top of her head. They did her makeup, paying special attention to highlight the mysterious almond shape of Shannon's eyes; they used colors that accented the way the young beauty's eyes already sparked like rainbows. Even her nails were buffed and polished.

Dinner was at a fancy restaurant and Cindy had ID so they ordered wine. Shannon blushed when Cindy made a toast to the bride. "That's not funny; I'm really scared."

"Well, you look gorgeous. All I know is that he's one lucky ghost."

Shannon's face was now scarlet and even more beautiful as it glowed with innocence and purity. "Do you think it will hurt?"

"Who knows? He's a ghost."

They arrived at the house well after dark. It was a huge mansion in the oldest part of town on a dark and lonely street. It was painted deep dark colors and was surrounded by a black iron fence except for the private cemetery which was guarded by a high stone wall. It all looked very menacing.

The door opened with a loud creak and inside was even less inviting. All the furniture was covered with sheets and even the paintings were covered. Everything was dark and dank. "Which one is my portrait, I mean Charlotte's?"

"We better not touch anything. There just time to get you dressed before midnight."

Shannon stripped off her plain blouse and skirt. She felt embarrassed taking off her underwear, particularly considering the almost hungry looks Cindy was giving her.

"Shannon, that ghost is getting a real treat."

"Stop it." Shannon crossed one arm over her full breasts and covered her sex with her other hand. She looked even more sensual as she tried to cover herself.

Cindy picked up very expensive white satin panties and slipped the soft cloth over Shannon's narrow ankles. The cool satin gave Shannon goose bumps as it caressed her skin. Cindy tugged them snugly around the virgin's hips and then got the corset.

The corset was old fashioned and elegant; the white satin shimmered against Shannon's moist skin. Cindy pulled it tightly around the young girl's torso and lovingly tucked her two creamy breasts into the cups.

The corset closed with silk ribbons crisscrossed in the back and Cindy cinched it unmercifully tight. Each pull of the ribbons showed more of Shannon's voluptuous curves, displaying her plump and juicy thighs and pushing her luscious breasts into two large scoops of quivering hot flesh.

Next came thigh high white silk stockings which were clipped into ribbons hanging from the corset. Cindy slowly turned the pretty girl around and admired her perfect hourglass figure.

Shannon looked like the goddess of love standing there with her innocent eyes sparkling with little tears. But still they weren't finished.

Shannon raised her arms and Cindy lowered an antique crocheted wedding dress, careful not mess up the expensive hair. It had no sleeves and stayed up by fitting tightly around her torso but then it spread out at her hips. The needlework was fine and elegant but all of Shannon's skin was visible under the lacy garment. It scooped down across her chest displaying her breasts as two creamy mounds heaving with each breath she took.

Soft velvet slippers covered her feet and then there was a rustling sound as Cindy swept up the gauzy wedding veil and pinned it to the bride's hair. She gave her a light kiss before lowering it over Shannon's face.

Cindy glanced at her watch. "Right on time."

Shannon's body stiffened and she whined. "Oh, I don't think this is right; we should go."

"Don't be silly!" Cindy briskly took her hand and, after pausing to pick up three lengths of silk, led her out into the cemetery.

Because of the river the cemeteries of New Orleans are all above ground. Here there were three mausoleums but it was too dark to read the names. In front of one of them Cindy had arranged for the caretaker to mount a pole.

Before Shannon could object Cindy pulled her slender wrists together and quickly tied them. She held Shannon against the pole and pulled her arms up so she could catch the silk onto the hook above the girl's head.

Shannon was sobbing and pleading now but Cindy ignored her; instead she tied her ankles together. Finally she slipped her hands under the veil and gagged the panicky young girl.

Cindy kissed her own finger and placed it on Shannon's cheek. Shannon groaned into the gag as Cindy went back in the house and turned off the one light they had used.

The witch's instructions were clear. Shannon had to be alone in the dark. No moon was out and little light from the city made its way to this gloomy place. The house loomed like a hulking beast. Just a few stars managed to glimmer through the hazy and humid New Orleans air.

Shannon writhed and moaned for a few moments and then a strange calm came over her. Dressed like a bride she felt herself worthy of being the sacrifice. She felt a yearning to be possessed, even violated by the demons haunting this place. Suddenly she believed in these ghosts but knew that her spirit was a match for their powers.

The first bell from a far off church began the tolling for midnight. Shannon jumped startled by the deep resonating sound. The brass of the ancient bell seemed to vibrate against her tender thighs. Shannon's breasts shimmered like creamy pools as she shuddered.

Even as the echo of the first bell ebbed away, the brass was struck again and the reverberation gripped her virgin body made her writhe. The captive was groaning loudly into the gag.

Another strike, then another, on and on. Each peal of the bell shook Shannon ruthlessly and panic and desire swirled inside her. She struggled against the silk cords like a trapped animal.

Finally, the last tolling of brass faded into a gentle song which harmonized with the shallow anxious breaths of the bound bride. A pause filled the humid air and all Shannon could hear was her own breathing and the beating of her heart.

She heard the crush of a heavy boot on the pebbled path. Her body stiffened and she strained to follow the sound. When she saw the ominous shadow approaching Shannon screeched with joy. It was true! The curse was real and the ghost was real. Now all Shannon could think of was being ravaged by this ancient spirit. Her body thrashed and wriggled with yearning; the white of the bridal gown fluttered, making her appear as a seductive angel. She continued to scream out her craving and even with the gag it sounded like a siren's song.

The figure stopped in front of her deliciously struggling body. He was dressed all in black with a cloak and a tri-cornered hat. He spent a long time watching his prize dance erotically in her bonds.

Finally he put his hands on her waist. This stilled the writhing girl and the physicality shook her. Now she was reminded that the ghost real in every way and soon this massive shape would be piercing her maidenhead.

The figure gripped her waist and squeezed her body as they ran up her trembling torso; he cupped those quivering mounds of cream and fondled her chest and shoulders and back. His whole body was pressed against her now as his hands roamed up and down his virginal treasure. He revealed in the firmness of her flesh and the completely perfect curves of her.

His mouth was hot and wet as he licked her neck and the tops of her shimmering breasts. Shannon was in a trance. She had never been handled by a man this way and she felt wild stirring between her legs, but fear filled her heart as she thought of him violating her innocence.

His hands lifted the veil and pushed it back. Tenderly he undid the gag and covered her mouth. His lips tasted of wine and his all too fleshy tongue pried open her lips and filled her mouth with his probing.

Shannon felt herself lifted into the air and she was released from the pole. With his captive still bound and gagged he carried her as his bride to the house. As they approached the dark shadows of the mansion Shannon could see candles flickering upstairs and down.

More than ever Shannon felt herself possessed by the spirit of Charlotte Deneuve; she yearned to yield her body to this pirate. "Now I am your bride," she said seductively as they crossed over the threshold. He squeezed her tender flesh as he carried her to the stairs.

The house was dark except for a line of candles leading up the grand staircase. The figure strode up the stairs slowly. Shannon snuggled against his powerful chest with her hands tied in front of her. "I am yours, I am your virgin," she whispered as they stepped into the master bedroom. Here thousands of candles flickered and oil lamps burned with a warm sensuous glow. The furniture was all velvet and oak with blood red curtains on the window and over the bed. The bed was covered with matching blood red satin sheets.

But the silk rope on Shannon's slender wrists was looped over a hook hanging in the middle of the room. Her body stretched down and she had to stand on her toes to keep from dangling. He had untied the silk on her ankles and her legs beat the air in little fluttering kicks; the velvet slippers fell off her feet.

Again he embraced her and his hands roved over her voluptuous curves and his mouth tasted her flesh. He kissed her deeply and Shannon returned the kiss eagerly.

He stepped behind her and Shannon writhed as his fingers released the pearl buttons on the back of the gown. His hands firmly pushed the lacy garment down from her torso. It glided down her body as if anxious to unveil Shannon's luscious milky skin.

As he reached around to unclasp the ribbons holding the silk stockings Shannon's bottom was pressed against his crotch and she jumped when she felt the solid hot mass on her skin. She began to sway in panic but this only increased the rubbing of her ass on his cock. He pushed forward to enjoy it more.

Now the all the ribbons on the stockings were undone and he took hold of her panties and pulled them down. The gesture was firm, almost brutal. He was in complete possession of his prisoner.

The ribbons on the corset were pulled open slowly, the gentle release of the pressure on her torso made Shannon quiver with pleasure but in the next instant warm humid air rushed over the now bare skin of her body as the satin dropped to the floor.

All Shannon was wearing was the bridal veil and the silk white stockings. He stepped in front of her and his eyes burned into her as he gazed on her moist fragile flesh. Shannon gasped as she realized that he was in deed the ancient ancestor of her teacher and their faces seemed struck from the same mold.

He licked his lips wolfishly and hugged her to him. His hands massaged and kneaded her mounds, digging into the pliant flesh. He kissed her deeply and she returned with even more passion. His hands took possession of every morsel of her. His mouth tasted and feasted on hers, then greedily fed on her neck and shoulders, finally gorging himself for a long time on those wondrous nipples.

Shannon swooned with the feeling of his mouth and hands devouring her. Every nerve ending in her body was discovering what sex was and every nerve ending wanted more. Hot juices were stirring deep inside her.

The spirit must have sensed the passion boiling between her legs because he knelt down and without warning crammed his tongue in for a taste.

Shannon screamed as his tongue stabbed into her but she melted immediately writhing into the new found bliss of his organ inside her. He slurped up her warm honey and she sobbed as his tongue began to circle around her clit. With the first beat of the tip of his tongue against her sensitive nub Shannon had her first real orgasm. She gushed into his mouth as waves of pleasure flooded over her body.

"I love you captain," she cooed as the orgasm continued to grow. Finally sated the man stood as watched as the virgin dangled and danced in the throes of her climax.

She watched with her eye lids half closed as he pulled off his boots. She stiffened as he began to unbutton his trousers and she moaned as sobbed as his throbbing shaft came into view.

As he stepped forward he held the cock in his hand and stroked it. It seemed to jump like a pouncing beast towards its trembling victim. Still holding his cock with one hand he pulled off his shirt with the other. He stood there a long time taunting her as he urged his shaft to grow with firm strokes and glared at her with lecherous eyes.

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