Spirit
I awoke in the Master bedroom. I was lying on top of the covers, naked. I suddenly remembered the ordeal that Rosa and Caribou had put me through the night before. I was going to have to say something about that. I did not feel safe with their prank. I wriggled around a little. My hands were cuffed somehow behind my back. Annoying, but typically no big deal. I could easily move cuffed hands from back to front. However, when I started to try, I felt a yanking feeling on my neck.
I was wearing some kind of collar. A chain from the back of the collar was keeping my restrained hands locked in the middle of my back!
I climbed out of bed, shaking my shoulders. I didn't really feel the urge to go to the bathroom, but I know that my body works like clockwork. I needed to find Rosa so she could unlock the buttplug and get me out of these chains.
I looked around the room. She had already moved all our bags out. What the hell was I supposed to wear? I got up and walked to the door, my bare feet chilled by the cold, hardwood floors. I reached for the door knob with my right foot, but somehow missed it. I tried again...
My foot passed right through the door knob. What the fuck?!
I heard voices outside the house in the driveway.
I ran to the window.
Caribou and Rosa were talking by the rental car. Rosa was closing the trunk, which was filled with all our luggage. All my luggage!
I tried to bang on the window to get their attention. My foot passed right through the window pane. Fuck!! I pressed my cheek against the window. I could feel the surface of the pane, but when I pushed a little harder, my face slipped right through.
It felt like pressing my face on the surface of the water in a calm bathtub. I could feel the surface, but there was no substance to it.
Rosa glanced up at the house. She looked haggard. I had to get out there and get her attention. I pushed my shoulder through the window pane - then my head. Then I jumped through. I landed on the cold gravel of the driveway.
"Wait!" I shouted. Neither Caribou, nor Rosa seemed to hear me.
"... and don't worry," Caribou was saying to Rosa. "Call me after New Year's and we'll see how things are going. And, please, enjoy yourself. You are free!"
Rosa gave a brief thin smile then turned and climbed into the driver's seat.
"Wait!" I screamed.
I ran to the passenger door and tried to open the handle with my toes. My foot passed right through, of course.
Rosa started the engine and shifted into gear. I ran to the front of the car and tried to kick the hood. The car advanced, passing straight through me. "Hey!"
Next I was running down the driveway trying to catch up to Rosa as she drove away. "Stop! Come back!"
As I ran, I noticed that the world around me was becoming more and more fuzzy. Gray spots were beginning to fill my vision. I looked forward desperately watching Rosa's car drive further away. I ducked my head and tried to run even faster.
Soon my vision faltered, graying out completely. I felt like I was falling forward.
I opened my eyes and I was lying on the bed in the Master bedroom again. I jumped up to the window. Caribou was walking up to the front door. I noticed that the bitch was wearing my bathrobe.
"Fuck!"
My arms were still locked behind my back. I shook my shoulders violently, cursing.
I pushed my head through the window again.
Slowly the realization settled around me like a heavy stone. I'm a ghost. Something went wrong with Caribou's little isolation tank. They put me in, but I must have died. They fucking murdered me. Now, I'm just a ghost!
<>--+-
I ran through the house to find the secret door standing wide open. I started to run down the long flight of stairs to the underground cavern with all the fancy machines. As I descended, I started to imagine what I was going to find. Did I want to actually find my dead, lifeless body? By the time I got to the bottom of the stairs, I was barely moving at all.
There was no metal framework with a large, metal spinning sphere, no large steel cylinder, no round steel plate, and the thick stone plug was now flush with the floor of the cave - put back in its place! Of course it was. My dead body was deep underneath all that... Locked far, far away.
I walked out onto the stone plug. If I concentrated, I could push my foot into the stone. Since I'm a ghost, I thought I could probably descend into that deep tight hole, down to the spinning sphere. I could look inside. What would I do then? If I could re-enter my body somehow, what would I do? If I was not a ghost, there is no way I'd be able to travel back up that shaft on my own. I'd just have to wait around to die again.
As I stood there in the cavern, suddenly all the lights shut down. It was pitch dark. I turned and started running up the stairs. Even though there was absolutely no light, I could still make out the contours of the world around me. I guess that is a benefit of having ghostly vision.
When I got to the top of the stairs, I found the secret door closed. I passed through it just as Caribou was sliding the bookcase along the rail to hide the door's existence.
"You fucking bitch!" I shouted at her. I kicked at her as hard as I could, but it just passed through her face. I tried to head-butt as she made her way to the kitchen and opened the door of the refrigerator, sniffing through some containers of food that Rosa and I had made. "Murderer!"
<>--+-
I woke up on the bed in the Master bedroom - naked as always. Actually, I wasn't completely naked. I still wore my large nipple rings and the buttplug was still firmly lodged in my backside. Of course, there were the chains and cuffs and collar that forced me to keep my hands in the middle of my back. I guess that this is the fate of ghosts to eternally wear the apparel they died in.
Time passed. I don't know how time moves when you are a ghost, but, for me it skipped forward in small jumps. I think I was nowhere for some forgotten chunks of time.
I could feel the cold outside, but it did not bother me. I could walk along the snow-covered drive barefoot. Of course, I left no footprints. I could sit on the roof in a howling storm. I knew the wind was blowing. My hair would even flap in the breeze. Regardless, it did not affect me at all.
I watched as Caribou had people install fiber optics lines to the house. She bought a fancy computer and a large TV. A new Subaru appeared in the driveway. Her wardrobe seemed to expand. She spent a lot of time searching the web.
She seemed to have a thing for missing women. I'm not exactly sure. Missing persons reports just have a certain look. And that was the look of the things she was researching. Maybe she was looking for information about her own disappearance.
I was always extremely aroused. For a weightless, ghostly buttplug, the thing shoved in my ass certainly wiggled around a lot. When I moved, it moved inside me. I tried desperately to twist my arms around so I could put a finger on my sex - to touch myself. Unfortunately, my ghostly chains had the property of impermeability that everything else did not.
I was going crazy with arousal. How could they have chained me like this? Did Caribou know how to make me suffer the most?
I straddled the backs of couches. I aligned myself with broom handles. Of course, my body passed right through with no friction.
Finally, I was at a breaking point and I screamed, "Fucking bitches!! I'm a fucking contortionist so fuck you!"
I lay on the bed on my chest, and bent my back, lifting my legs over my head. I dropped my knees towards my head and raised my head. "Ha!" The top of my head provided all the surface that I needed. I pressed my sex lips to the crown of my head. When I rolled up even further I could actually press against my clit. The orgasm I had was so mindblowing that an effluence of lubrication sprayed over my head and ran down my face, soon evaporating into nothing as it cooled.
After finding the appropriate means, I masturbated all the time. I let the arousal take me away. Otherwise, my thoughts would begin to revolve in tortured impossible loops - trying to understand how Rosa could betray me, certain that Caribou had tricked her into thinking I wouldn't die in the bottom of the shaft - my own little oubliette.
Before I knew it, I was watching Caribou watch the ball drop in Times Square on TV. A few days later I found Caribou talking on my cell phone.
"Things are going well?" she asked into the phone. "Yeah?... And the business?... Awesome!... I don't know. I mean, I'm sure she's fine. She wanted this for you. She said so... Yeah, well if you change your mind, we can always... Sure, not yet, though... She's good!"
I knew she was talking to Rosa. "She's lying!" I screamed.
"Hey! I'm going to need to do some repairs on the house this Spring... Is there any chance that you could put a little more money in Ana's account?... Awesome! I'll keep you updated! Bye."
<>--+-
One day in late winter, Caribou went to the sliding bookshelf and pushed it to the side to reveal the hidden door. She had a hand drill and some hardware. She pulled some books from the shelves and drilled a pair of holes in the back - one on the top shelf, one on the bottom. She drilled holes in the wall next to the hidden door. She closed the bookshelf and pushed long bars through the holes in the back on the bookshelf into the wall behind. She used padlocks to lock the bars in place and hid her work with the books.
Now someone would need an additional two keys, even if they knew the door existed to find my body.
Caribou moved into the Master bedroom, which really sucked. Everytime I awoke from periods of nonexistence, I awoke in that bed. So, now I sometimes woke up next to Caribou's nasty body.
Caribou masturbates a lot too. Who can blame her? She lived a solitary existence with snow and wilderness all around. But, I suppose I can now confirm that age-old question... Yes! Ghosts are watching when you think you are having a private moment with your hand.