The House 15

Jocelyn leaned back into the old dusty upholstery, ignoring the tiny pitter-patter of what was surely a family of mice that lived under the sofa. She took a sip from her drink, staring absently into the moonless night, visibly shaken...

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She'd arrived with her husband and son around 9 pm. They had rented an old farmhouse on a secluded road, with about four acres between them and the nearest neighbours. It was late October; the evenings were quiet and the sky was already layered with shades of grey when they arrived. The darkened bricks of the house were covered with crawling ivy. Withered leaves fell like confetti from the crackling branches of the overarching trees that lined the walkway, and there was an eerie chill in the air as they approached the large wooden door. Immediately, the hairs on the back of her neck rose.

When they booked Midsommar Manor there had been a lot of excitement about the size of the three-story building - it was quite a step up from their cramped flat. But when they arrived in the middle of the night, all those glowing features just seemed like the perfect ingredients for a haunted house: a cold, dark basement, four-poster beds, creaky stairs, a study decorated with heads of stuffed animals. Despite this, everything had seemed fine until Jocelyn decided to explore her new digs while Jason put Tucker to sleep. As she descended the stairs to the large foyer in front of the front door she felt something move around her. It was hard to explain and impossible to comprehend, but Jocelyn froze and the hairs on her arms stood at attention. She got the unnerving feeling that she wasn't alone. Something had disturbed the eerie stillness that had greeted her when she first arrived. And that was a very, very scary thing indeed.

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Goosebumps peppered her skin as a cool breeze wafted over her leg. Jocelyn swallowed nervously, her eyes darting around. She tried to shake off the thought and pretended to relax into the sofa, feigning comfort to a presence that she knew didn't exist. She noticed something change, the air rippled as if there was something else occupying the space around her. She felt it move over her and she immediately knew that it was the same chilling phantom she felt out in the foyer.

Suddenly she felt a gust of cold air blow more insistently than before, like coarse hands running over her legs and circling her hips. She tried to scream but no sound came out. She swung a fist, but connected with nothing but air and when she meant to leap up she found her arms and legs secured by the rigid air. She felt a sinister apparition in front of her and froze in fear as the icy chill spread across her thighs, up over her stomach and breasts, over her shoulders and down her back. A faint smell accompanied the living breeze, it was a slight, rancid smell of rotting meat with undertones of burnt wood.

She felt long, decrepit, fingers take form and spread down the curve of her cleavage, growing like poison ivy along her skin and dipping beneath her top. They felt like sandpaper scraping over the pebbled goosebumps scattered across her skin. She squirmed at the friction as the invisible fingers brushed over her nipples and continued to stretch down to her navel, making her jump from the tickling sensation. Then, suddenly, she felt another hand grip at her throat. It pressed down hard enough for a warning, and she understood clearly that she was not to move.

At first her gut reaction was fear but as the long fingers on the first hand descended further, cascading through the curls of her pubic hair and traveling down between her legs, she felt defiant arousal slowly creep into the mix. She was repulsed as the ghost gently parted her labia and she felt light, circular rubbing on the hood of her clit, coaxing it to engorged arousal.

Jocelyn moaned and tried to buck her hips away from the invisible force but it persisted until she was arching her back and raising her hips, betraying herself. She couldn't fight it. One? Two? Three? She'd lost count of the fingers violating her, pulling, pushing, flowing through her like the wind. Her body involuntarily jerked and twitched as she battled both the ghost and her arousal. Her arms and legs struggled against their invisible restraints and her hips began moving with more determination as the fingers explored her pussy. How odd she must have looked, writhing in ecstasy in the shadows, seemingly in unison with an invisible lover.

Just when she thought she'd had it all, unseen forces closed in over her breasts, latching onto her nipples while a horde of tongues teased her womanhood, simultaneously tracing circles along her clit and slipping between the folds of her sex.

How is this possible?

Her mind rationalised that she wasn't in any danger and a ferocious fire of arousal quickly spread through her veins, lighting up every nerve in her body while the cold air swirled around her, picking up speed. She slumped back into the cushions, gasping and enjoying the sensation of the strong invisible fingers. As they swept between her legs, Jocelyn reached out instinctively and found that though she could not see this mysterious presence, she could now feel its very tangible boundaries with her hands. As she explored the invisible body that stood closely in front of her, she felt yet another hand move upwards along the side of her body. Jocelyn's mouth opened in a silent gasp as the hand settled on her cheek, cradling her face.

Just then, Jocelyn felt something slip into her mouth. It felt like dozens of streams of air were pouring into her mouth before they converged into one large flow. The shape took form and there was a moment of hesitation as the solid phallus slowly pushed deeper, a sense that this was the point of no return—but it was already too late. Jocelyn's eyes fluttered close, her attention focused on each ridge and bump passing through her lips as though she were reading a secret message written in Braille. She sucked eagerly, allowing her mind to simply switch off as the ecstasy of worship consumed her.

The cock responded by filling and thickening further, far beyond anything she was used to. Little more than the head fit in her mouth but that didn't deter the invisible being. With each thrust, more and more of the cock slid in until it finally bumped the back of her throat. Jocelyn started to gag reflexively and pushed uselessly against her invisble captor with her dainty hands. The entity didn't budge and Jocelyn immediately felt a twinge of fear as she felt hands—at least three or four— fasten around her head and face, forcing her to adjust to having a cock pressing against the back of her throat until her gagging whimpers began turning to moans.

Her pushing became weaker and soon her open palms were slowly sliding down the invisible, muscular stomach; her fingers spreading as wide as possible, appreciating the ripples of the strong abdomen. The thrusting renewed at a slower pace and Jocelyn could feel the inhibitions fall out of her head as she slipped even deeper into hazy ecstasy. Her fearful consciousness bobbed away like a cork in a sea of lust. It was so easy to lean back against the sofa and stop thinking as the engorged member slowly moved in and out.

Her chest rose and fell in a slow, even rhythm that matched the gentle face-fucking. Her throaty moan, full of need, said everything as cold fingers gripped her chin in an unnecessary gesture of dominance and control. It was probing, exploring, gradually fucking her mouth a little deeper, and with a little more force. Then deeper, and deeper until her dementor was pushing roughly into the back of her throat as she struggled against the gag reflex.

The creepy and supernatural happenings of this haunted space, however briefly erotic, now hung on the edge of violence as she sputtered on the phallus lodged in her throat. The longer she choked the more the demure obedience receded from her tearful eyes. Jocelyn's self-preservation ripped through the trance that had held her captive— but it was too late. With four, five, six hands cradling her head and more joining by the second, she was unable to pull away. She began to thrash uncontrollably as she felt her heart desperately go into overdrive. A burning heat spread through her body followed by the icy chill of death. She was worn out, and felt her body go limp. As she took her last breaths she finally saw it. The long, thin tendrils reaching out from the darkness to wrap around her body. Those inky black eyes. The hideous, tortured smiles. This was nothing human. Not anymore. Jocelyn could hear the creature's manic cackle echo and fade into the darkness as she slipped into the black silence of unconsciousness, not knowing if she would awaken or if the ravenous death she felt creeping through her nervous system would consume her.