"How," Elizabeth wondered, "do I let myself get talked into these things?"
"Why do I have to go with you?" she demanded to know. "You're the one who made the silly bet. I don't even believe in ghosts."
"And I'd just as soon not put myself in a position where they might start believing in me," she added to herself.
"There aren't any ghosts there," Stacy said patiently. "It's just an old house. The haunted part is just everyone's imagination. We go, spend the night comfortably asleep in our sleeping bags and voila, I'm ten bucks richer."
"Fine for you. You get ten bucks and I get a nervous breakdown."
"Oh, stop whining. You know you're going to go. Think of the stirring if we back out now."
"You mean think of the ten dollars you'll lose," muttered Elizabeth.
"That, too," giggled Stacy. 'Anyway, I told everyone that we'd do it this Friday night. That'll give you the whole weekend to recover if we do see a ghost."
- - -
"Stacy and Elizabeth, alone in the haunted house all night Friday," I mused. "Does this give me a chance at some mischief? I really think that it does."
Accordingly, over the next couple of days I made some careful preparations, including the ability to remove all evidence of what I'd done quickly and easily.
- - -
On Friday night I was in the house first, but carefully out of sight. Eventually Stacy and Elizabeth rolled up, Stacy laughing, Elizabeth grumbling. They did a quick tour of the ground floor and settled in the front room, it being noticeably cleaner than the other rooms, entirely lacking in cobwebs.
They chatted and laughed and eventually bedded down onto their sleeping bags, torches off but close at hand if required. Onto their bags, not in, I was pleased to note. I thought that that is what they'd do on a hot night, and it would save me trouble later. I gave them a chance to settle into a nice deep sleep.
Judging that both girls were now well asleep, I moved into action. First step was to get out the nitrous oxide and play it gently over their faces, helping them into a really deep sleep.
Once assured that they wouldn't wake until I wanted them to, I carefully stripped both girls, putting their clothes in neat piles next to their respective sleeping bags. Then I redressed them in clothing that I'd brought with me.
While Elizabeth slept blissfully on, I took Stacy into the next room and set up the shackles I'd arranged. (Padded where they fit over her wrists and ankles so as not to leave any marks.) Then I carefully gagging her, not wanting her to scream and also not wanting tell-tale marks on her skin afterwards.
Now I played a little oxygen on her face, helping to overcome the laughing gas, and gently shook her until she started to come to, moving her head groggily from side to side.
I could see when she realised that something was wrong when her eyes snapped wide and her head jerked up. She started to struggle, and then stopped when she heard the clink of the chains and realised that she was manacled to the wall. She was making some soft sounds through the gag, and looking around, her eyes finally focusing on me. Then she made some louder sounds through the gag.
All she could see of me, in the dim light I'd arranged, was a shadowy, naked, masked figure with a nice erection.
I stepped up in front of her and patted her cheek lightly, then I extended a claw, hooked it onto the neck of the t-shirt she was wearing and casually ripped it open, all the way to the bottom. Another little jerk with the claw and her bra was cut neatly in half, leaving her half naked.
Stacy was trying to wriggle and scream, but not having much luck, and her luck didn't improve when I inserted my claws either side of her shorts and ripped down, effectively tearing them in two and her panties with them.
In case you're wondering, no, I don't really have claws. There are these neat attachable claws you can buy in some punk jewellery shops, but in the dim light and a state of fright I guarantee they looked like the real thing. The clothing I'd prepared had been weakened at certain places, and a child could have ripped them in two. Not knowing any of this Stacy would have had a real fright.
Now that Stacy was naked, I dumped the claws and started petting her. She had lovely breasts and I gave them careful attention, weighing them, stroking and squeezing and getting acquainted with a nice pair of nipples.
After a while I shifted my attention to her pussy, starting slowly. Initially just stroking her mons, I then moved on, tracing her labia, following her slit and teasing her generally. After gently rubbing along her slit for a while, I eased her lips apart and slipped my fingers between them, feeling her sensitive inner flesh.
In case you think that Stacy was just standing there, enjoying my attentions, I really must correct you. She was abusing me something terrible through that gag, wriggling and straining away from me.
Finally deciding her time was up I stepped even closer to her, and she could feel my erection between her legs, resting against her pussy.
Then I snapped another burst of nitrous oxide into her face, and she passed out again like a lamb.
Unshackling Stacy, I took her back into the other room and laid her on her sleeping bag. A few deft movements and she was redressed in her own clothes and sleeping like a baby. I figured any misalignment of her clothes would be put down to tossing and turning after a restless night.
Now I turned to my main target of the night, Elizabeth. While she slept, I carried her into the other room and laid her on the rug I had put there. Shifting the shackles from the wall to the floor I very quickly had her spreadeagled on the rug, gag nicely in place.
A little play of oxygen and wait.
- - -
Elizabeth woke with a start. Something was wrong, she just wasn't sure what. She tried to sit up, heard the clink of metal on metal, and found she couldn't move.
Straining to make sense of what was going on, she quickly realised that for some reason she was tied up and gagged. Trying to yell and looking around she saw a shadowy figure standing over her. A naked, shadowy figure she realised, her fear growing.
The figure knelt down beside her and lightly touched her cheek, and then he lifted one hand and opened it to show claws instead of fingers. The hand reached down to her blouse and she could hear see the buttons flicking away, one by one, as the claws touched them. Spreading her blouse, the stranger slid his claws between her skin and her bra and pulled up, slicing her bra in half as though it was made of paper.
Elizabeth felt the claws, cold as metal, as they brushed the remains of her bra aside, exposing her breasts. His hand casually rasped across her nipple, and then he was turning his attention to her shorts.
Those clawed fingers hooked under the legs of her shorts and lazily tore their way upward, shredding her shorts as they came. Her assailant grabbed the remains of her shots and dragged them out from under her, leaving her with only panties to hide her nakedness.
Now a claw casually reached down and plucked first one side of her panties and then the other, and then the rag was tossed to join her shorts.
Elizabeth watched as a hand reached up and started caressing her breast. Normal fingers, she noted with relief, and then wondered why she should feel relief no matter what was touching her.
"I am going to play with you Elizabeth," came a muffled voice. "If you don't like me playing, just say stop, and I will."