tagMind ControlTodd Thomas' Ghostly Misadventures

Todd Thomas' Ghostly Misadventures


My name is Todd Thomas, and I see dead people. Yes, I am totally aware of how cliché is, but there you have it. And no, before you ask, I don't "help them along", or any such nonsense. I can see ghosts, but that's about it. I've never heard one talk, or make any sound at all.

"Well okay," you ask, "then what do they look like, smart guy?"

Why thanks for asking! They look like people, just pale and, uh, glowy. They are completely white and shimmery, and just a little transparent. From the waist down, they end in a long tail that floats a little above the ground.

"That sounds interesting, I suppose", you say, "but what do they do?"

Alright, a little impatient are we? Very well. Most of the time?

They fuck.

A lot.

Yes, you read that right.

Perhaps it will be easier to tell you about my first time seeing ghosts. It'll probably clear things up. Or not. Who am I, Spielberg? Figure it out on your own!

Anyway, here's what happened. I was only fourteen, and had just started high school a few weeks ago. I went to a high school in the city, so I had to take the subway to get there every day. Being the social butterfly I am, I was terrified. But that's not important to the story, so let's go on.

I had already sat down, and had started reading a book. Some girl in her teens had gotten on, and sat across from me. I didn't have much experience with girls, so this eighteen year old girl wearing skinny jeans and a tank top really caught my eye. Even now I can remember her long blonde hair reaching the top of her firm breasts, framing her pale face perfectly.

She had but her ear buds in already, and was listening to some music, when the ghost floated in. Considering the situation, I'm impressed I didn't piss myself. It floated down the aisle, and stopped right before it got to the girl. It grinned, and moved towards her.

Now, dear reader, I may not have been completely honest with you. I neglected to mention something. All ghosts, along with the white skin and glowing complexion, have penises. Yes, even the female ghosts. It sits right about where it would on a normal person, just a little below the hips. At the sight of this girl, the ghost got hard.

It floated around to behind her, and grasped the sides of her head with its hands. It didn't look like she felt it, but from the way his fingers were curled, he had a firm grip. Then, with a thrust of its hips, it slid its dick into her head.

It passed right through her, and I saw the head pop out of the center of her forehead. He pulled back, and thrust in again. I quickly glanced at the girl, to see how she reacted. To my surprise, she just stared ahead, eyes unseeing. She looked like she was daydreaming, or listening to her music.

I don't want to go into detail, but I have more experience with ghosts now. From what I can tell, they enjoy fucking people's brains. It doesn't seem to do any damage to them, but when they do it, it 'separates' the mind from the body, for lack of a better term. For all intents and purposes, it looks and feels like the person is just daydreaming, or lost in thought. None of the people I've ever asked seem to realize something had happened.

And no, before you ask, I've never been brain fucked. I tried it, when I was younger, out of curiosity, but ghosts just ignore me. I've even tried touching them, but they don't react. If I make enough movement with my hands, I can make them drift one way or another, but that's about it.

"Hold on Todd," you say, with an annoyed look on your face, "what happened on the train? What happened to that girl that you described so vividly, and with such attention to detail?" Well I'll tell you, beloved reader. Pretty much nothing. The ghost fucked her until he came, spewing some kind of ectoplasmic semen into her head, and a minute late, the train got to her stop. She snapped out of her reverie, and got off the train. Pretty anti-climactic, I admit, but that's life. Bite me.

Anyway, this story starts much later on in my life. I had graduated from college already, and was working in an office. Don't even bother asking what I did in the office. It's so horribly mundane, that I won't even bother going into it. Ah, whatever, let's just get into it.


I sighed as I shuffled some papers into an ever-growing stack of shuffled papers. I leaned back in my office chair, and rested the back of my head on my cubicle wall. Just a few minutes to rest my eyes, and then I would get back to work.

"Todd!" A sharp voice pierced my quiet 'meditation'. I jerked up in my chair, causing it to tip over, and not-so-gently deposit me onto the floor. I looked up as I lay on my back, trying to see past the starts that whizzed around my vision.My supervisor stood above me, with her hands on her hips.

Emma Mathews, or as she prefers, "Ms. Mathews", is my direct supervisor. I don't know what she actually does, but apparently it warrants her having an office to herself, with a massive desk and a great window view. Her stern, always pissed-off attitude is a direct contrast to her looks. She has a heart shaped face, with rectangular glasses working with her ear-length brown hair to frame her face perfectly. Her breasts are large, at least in the D cups, but she does her best to hide them with carefully cut suit jackets. At the moment, her face was marred with a frown of disapproval.

"Mr. Thomas," she said, despite my best efforts to get her to call me Todd, "Slacking off on the job is not permitted. Get back to work, or I'll have to write up a formal complaint." She then stalked off, probably to devour a gazelle or something. Getting to look at her shapely ass as she walked away was the only consolation I was going to get from her.

As I pulled myself up off the floor, my mind wandered towards less than pure thoughts. I took a quick peek around the office. Fortunately, most of the office had left for the night. I was stuck doing the graveyard shift with Ms. Mathews for another few hours. I grinned to myself, and reached into my drawer.

A few minutes later, I knocked timidly on the door to her office. A brisk "enter" came from behind the door, and I walked in.

I'd only been in her office a few times, and it still inspired jealousy. It was at least three times as large as my cubicle, with a massive window on one wall, overlooking the city. In front of the window was Emma, sitting at her desk, which was at least as wide as my cubicle was long. Several ornaments adorned her desk, along with one of those brass stands that proclaimed "Emma Mathews, C.E.O". Behind the desk sat Emma, in a chair that appeared to be much more comfortable than mine.

"What is it, Mr. Thomas? I'm very busy at the moment, and I can't afford to slack off like you apparently can." Damn, I hadn't even said anything, and she was already going for the jugular. I sat down in one of the seats in front of her desk (which was also annoying comfortable), and leaned forward.

"Look, Emm- Ms. Mathews, I just came in to apologize for before, and to assure you that such behavior will not happen again." I put on a meek expression, and tried to look humble. This wasn't the first time we'd had this conversation, but I figured I'd stick with the tried and true.

"Mr. Thomas, don't patronize me. This isn't the first time I've seen you slacking off, nor is this the first time you've come in here to apologize. If you really want to make it up to me, I suggest you get out of my office and get back to work." She shook her head, and picked up her pen, continuing what she was doing before I came in.

Annoyance shot through me, and I reached into my pocket to pull out a glass jar I had put in there. With one deft move, I unscrewed the lid, and put the jar on the table. A ghost burst out, and whirled around the room. When it caught sight of Emma, it immediately got hard, and grabbed her head. As it began fucking her brain, Emma's eyes became unfocused, and her jaw went slack, with a line of drool starting to form. Her pen clattered onto the table, her fingers losing all dexterity.

I had found out relatively early on that ghosts could not cross a perfect circle. It was easy for me to catch one in a jar, since they basically ignored me, and had the consistency of smoke. I encountered this particular ghost on one of the more populated trains. It was huge, with thick muscles, and a mean attitude. For some reason, when this ghost fucked people, they became even more detached, so that even touch could not interrupt them.

I quickly closed the office door, and locked it. I pulled down all the shutters, and started for the table. I took a moment to consider Emma's lovely face. When she wasn't frowning, she actually looked gorgeous.

"Slacking off huh? I'll show you slacking off!" I muttered to her blank face, as I undid the buttons of her blouse. Underneath, she wore a conservative cotton bra, which strained to contain her ample bosom. I greedily fondled her tits, savoring in the soft feel of them under my fingers.

I quickly pulled off all her clothing until she was naked from the waist up. The ghost, which I nicknamed Gorgeous, was not dissuaded, and moved whenever her head did. As long as I didn't move her too quickly, he would keep going until he was spent.

Ghost semen is a funny thing. I'd found that although it didn't have any damaging effects on a person's mind, it did seem to attract ghosts to those who had more than others, and make them go down more easily. I'd been slowly filling Emma up with ghost semen for the past few months, using these regular office visits as a cover.

I grabbed one of her large breasts, and sucked and nibbled on her nipple until it hardened. I repeated on her other breast. Within a few minutes, her nipples stood proudly, and she was breathing heavily, with her skin flushed. I helped her up to her feet, and got to work on her skirt. Within a few minutes, and with a bit of maneuvering, she stood completely naked, that blank expression still on her face.

I reached down to her crotch, and slipped a few fingers into her pussy. It was already wet, but I spend a few minutes teasing her clit, just to be sure she was lubricated enough. I gently bent her over her desk, taking care not to dislodge Gorgeous. He seemed pretty unconcerned with the whole thing, opting to continue pounding her brain with his cock.

I slipped off my pants and fished out my dick, which was rock hard at this point. I bent my knees to align better with her soaking pussy, and thrust myself in.

Oh god.


I had played with her tits before, but this was the first time fucking her. Holy hell, she was tight. I almost came just from forcing myself in. I felt her vaginal muscles clamp involuntarily, which didn't do anything to ease my way in.

I continued until I was all the way up to the base, and stayed there, savoring the feel of her warm pussy. With a jerk of my hips, I slid out, and thrust back in. Pleasure washed over me, as I pumped in and out of her. Her tits were pressed up against the table, so I reached forward and grabbed them, not stopping my thrusts while I did so.

I'd love to say I did this for hours, but after six minutes, I could feel myself reaching my limit. I increased my thrusts, pounding her pussy harder and harder. When the pressure became unbearable, I slammed my cock in as deep in as I could, and came hard. Waves of pleasure washed over me as ropy strand after strand of sperm shot into her. I'd saved up for a week in anticipation of this moment, and it had definitely been worth it.

I slipped out of her with a sigh, and (slightly wobbly) staggered over to my clothing, which was lying in a heap near her desk. After quickly getting the both of us dressed, I waited for Gorgeous to finish up. It only took him a few minutes until he shot his seed into her. I quickly coaxed him into the glass jar, and leaned over Emma's shoulder. She was still out of it, and I whispered into her ear. "I bet you enjoyed every minute, huh? You love getting fucked by me." I grinned to myself, quickly got back into my seat.

About a minute later, she snapped out of her reverie, and blinked a few times in confusion. Her skin was still flushed, but she seemed to have calmed down. She fixed her stare on me, and frowned again.

"Mr. Thomas, what are you still doing here? I told you to get out!" She said. I got up, and headed to the door, when she spoke up again.

"Uh, Mr. Tho- Todd?" I turned around. Her tone was different; almost dare I say it, friendly? "I know you've had a lot on your plate recently, and I appreciate the work you've done". She said, looking slightly embarrassed.

I was so surprised, I could only stutter out some sort of thank-you, and rush out the door. As I closed it behind me, I reflected on what had just happened. I grinned. It seems life was looking up for me after all.


Well, that was interesting, right? I'm sure you've all got your theories on what happened, but please, save it. I'm sure when I write a sequel; I'll break your poor delicate hearts, dear readers. Hmmm, on second thought, forget that. Post as much as you like. I TOTALLY won't use any and all comments as "inspiration" for future work, I promise!

What's that? Pregnancies? Don't be ridiculous! I'm not THAT mean! I had a vasectomy a few years back, for basically this exact reason. I'm an opportunist, not a monster!

I think that about wraps it up for now, hope you enjoyed, and please, send me any and all feedback, I'm very needy about this kinda stuff. Tootles!

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