The A M Titty Villa Horror

S.P.E.R.T. - the Supernatural/Paranormal Emergency Response Team

Antoinette (Toni) Todd - Leader of the team

(Holy) Hannah Harvey - The medium (who is extra-large, her initials are on all her bras)

Cassandra (Sister) Christian - The believer trained in religious rites, practices, and positions, especially the missionary one

Delilah Lillian Doe (Dee Dee) - Case manager, researcher, can't understand why everyone laughs when she signs her name 'Dee L. Doe'

Marilyn Sparks - Tech expert, likes to watch, can make anything with batteries vibrate

Case #009 - "The A.M. Titty Villa Horror"

The morning started off like far too many have lately with something I hate, an interview.

When you are in the paranormal research field, it is impossible to be taken seriously if you charge for your services and that's not taking into account that we are women. Starting the Supernatural/Paranormal Emergency Response Team or S.P.E.R.T. was a labor of love, but we all have to have real jobs or some form of income.

"Well, you're not too bad. You're in good shape, but kinda skinny. A little more ounce for the bounce would help... Are you listening to me?"

The gruff voice from the chubby, balding guy with his pants half-zipped snapped me back to reality. I almost dozed off hanging upside down on the pole.

"Sorry, sir, blood rushed to my head, could you repeat that please?"

"I get forgetful when the blood rushes to my head, too. Heh, heh. Takes it away from my brain!"

"Ha, ha! Oh, you're such a witty fellow." I smiled as sweetly as I could.

"Whatever. Listen, you only want lunch hours, so being a little thin isn't a big problem, but you're gonna have to really work the crowd to get tips. Look them in the eyes. Your body's okay, your stripping is passable, but your pole work needs help."

"I've never had any complaints about my pole work before, I'll have you know!" I was indignant at the implication.

"I thought you said you never worked a club before?"

"Oh, you meant the pole on the stage? Sorry, I was thinking of something else."

He rolled his eyes. "Right. Whatever. You get a shot tomorrow with customers. Try to pay attention and don't fall."

I reached to shake his hand. "Thank you, sir, I'll do my best."

"Whatever. Be here at 10:30, got it?"

"Yes, sir. Thanks again."

I was elated by the news, but I needed to get back to S.P.E.R.T. HQ for a case briefing, and I started for the door.

"Toni. Clothes."

I turned back toward the stage. "What do you mean? Should I wear something specific tomorrow?"

"No, you should probably wear something NOW!"

Then, I remembered my clothes were on the stage and I was heading toward the door topless in just my thong. Sometimes I get just too focused on my love of the paranormal.

It was only a ten minute walk from Stubb's Nite Club to Cass' parents' house where we were temporarily headquartered in their basement. When I got there Cass and Dee Dee were waiting. Dee Dee was smiling the way she does when she thinks we have a hot case.

"I thought you'd never get here! This is the greatest test of S.P.E.R.T. yet. A couple that runs a tanning salon in a really old building NEEDS our help. Whenever their female clients have to pull their tops over their heads, an invisible force grabs their hands, keeping them up, and sometimes fondles them, but only during the morning. They also have occurrences of an old lady sticking her head through the door and looking in on them. And I mean 'through the door' as in without opening it, plus other random noises and stuff."

"Well, that does sound interesting. We should check this out. What do you think, Cass?"

"The fondling sounds... intriguing. We should go."

Dee Dee and I exchanged glances, but Cass agreed for whatever her reasons might be. I called the Tan Place and set up a visit tomorrow morning while Cass called the rest of the team and Dee started researching the history and what she discovered was alarming.

The building had been built in the 1800s and had been a roadhouse, speakeasy, and a brothel over the years. The current owners, the Cullens, had bought the place for a song because no one seemed to want to stay there. Strange noises like bumping and moaning sounds could be heard when it was quiet and people complained of not feeling alone there. The Cullens moved in on the first floor and converted the upstairs rooms into a tanning salon.

Further research discovered that a man had been murdered there in the morning hours of May 8th, 1950 when he was with a prostitute and her husband walked in. The husband was apparently unaware of his wife's occupation and took it out on her unfortunate client.

While I was on the phone with Mrs. Cullen, one of her customers who had a brush with the supposed spirit came in. Her story was exciting and disturbing at the same time.

"I showed up at 8:30 in the morning and went to Room B to tan. I was wearing a pullover sweater with a tee and when I pulled them over my head, it was like I'd gotten it tangled up on a hook or something. A gentle pull made me stand straight up and then, well, I wasn't wearing a bra under there. It got really cold really fast and I could feel my nipples harden. It felt like someone started to lick my breasts and I freaked out.

After a couple of seconds of me jerking around, it was over. The sweater was away from my eyes, but no one could have left the room that fast. I pulled my clothes back down and told Deirdra. She said things had happened like that once or twice and I just never came back in the morning. Nothing ever happened to me again."

We arrived at the Tan Place around 7:30 AM. Dierdra Cullen showed us around and we set up our equipment. We put cameras on the doors in case the old lady appeared and began our investigation. We split up. Sparks monitored the cameras from the living room, Sister Christian and Hannah went to the tanning rooms, and Dee Dee and I poked around the first floor with Mrs. Cullen.

"Very odd, most paranormal activity takes place at night... But they say the fondling only happens in the morning..."

"Toni, dear, you're thinking out loud again." Dee Dee sighed.

"Sorry. So, Dierdra, does the old lady appear around here?"

"Well, we've never noticed her anywhere on the first floor other than our bedroom."

Dee smiled, "And is there anything that seems to attract her or is there any particular time or day?"

"Well, she, I mean, it's pretty consistent."

"Any information you can give us will help this investigation immensely." I smiled proudly, Dee Dee was so business like.

"It's kinda embarrassing."

Poor Dee Dee looked flustered and sympathetic, but our mission is to discover the truth, so I stepped in.

"We are professionals and you can tell us anything in complete confidence."

"It only happens on Friday nights."

Dee Dee followed up quickly, "She only appears on Friday nights?"

"To us, anyway."

"Is there anything that you do special on Friday nights? And is it always in the same place?"

"Well, yes, it's our bedroom.", Mrs. Cullen said with a finality in her tone that backed Dee off again, but we needed all the facts.

"Is there something you only do on Friday nights and only in your bedroom?"

Dierdra looked at me sadly and shook her head. "You're not married, are you?"

Just then, Sparks called me, "Toni! You've got to get upstairs now. Holy Hannah is in a trance and if she had tassels on those tits, she'd take off like a helicopter!"

You need to understand one thing about Hannah, her breasts are extremely sensitive. Whenever there is something arousing her mystic senses, her nipples become erect like kindergarten pencil erasers and her breasts are drawn toward the cause, like natural dowsing rods. Sometimes, in a trance, she almost has beaten herself silly with those things if a spirit is flying around. I told Dee Dee to continue the interview and keep Mrs. Cullen out of our way.

As I ran up the stairs, I called back to Sparks, "Where's Sis?"

"Room B, she's trying an EVP session in the room the john bought it in."

An EVP or Electronic Voice Phenomenon happens when a spirit tries to communicate, but often times the sound isn't strong enough for the human ear, so we use digital recorders to see it there's any kind of answer to questions and such.

I got to Hannah, she was sitting in a chair in the hall, eyes closed, and sure enough, her 44 HH boobs were spinning in opposite directions, one toward Room B and one toward the hall. Her lips were moving, but she was whispering. It was a little dangerous to get too close to her, I've gotten a black eye from those things before.

"Hannah, speak up!"

In a far away voice, she explained what had happened all those years ago because she was channelling the spirit of the prostitute...

"We called him the Major because he was a veteran from WW 1&2. He only came in the mornings because he worked as a security guard all night. Something happened during the war that messed him up in the head and he was seriously injured physically.

Most of his groin was blown off in an explosion, he survived, but his balls didn't. He couldn't do anything normal with a woman, but something over there put this weird idea in his head about tying women up, so their hands were over their head and they were pretty much helpless. He paid good money to do that. He'd pull up your top, play with your nipples, suck on them, work his way down, and what he could do with his tongue made me want to pay him. My hubby was a wham, bam, thank you ma'am guy. The Major would do that five mornings a week and pay me! Now, it's not like I was a common whore or nothing. I'd only worked the Villa a few times when we needed money real bad, but I was lucky enough to get the Major once and he liked me a lot.

I just told my husband that I went to church every morning and did chores, but that horrible day in May, he was home, sick as a dog. He got really mad that I was leaving him to do my chores, that the church could get by for a day, but I needed the Major's attention. I was addicted, I guess. That dumb son of a bitch followed me like he was tracking a deer. I had no idea. The Major was just getting started kissing my breasts when the door busted open and my hubby saw me tied up in the closet with the Major's face buried in my chest. Before I could say anything, the poor Major turned to see what was the matter and Jaime caught him right on the chin with an uppercut which knocked the old man off his feet and his head hit the bedpost really hard. He never woke back up. It was all my fault for lying, I think. Never should of used the church as an excuse..."

Her voice faded and both of Hannah's boobs started pointing the same way, toward the room Sis was in. The door was locked and she wasn't answering me, so I ran downstairs to get a key from Dierdra. There was no key, the doors just had a sliding dead bolt, but they were just the cheap kind, a hard shove should have popped it. Nothing doing, that door would not budge at all. Most of what happened we learned from the recording since the camera in the room went dead shortly after Cass started speaking.

"Is their anyone here with me? Would you like me to take off my blouse? Would you like to take it off for me?"

She waited and then, "I can raise my hands up for you, if you want. I'm not frightened of you. You can do whatever you like."

The recording picked up a heavy breathing sound and Cass felt like she was being gently pushed toward the closet. "Do you want me to open the closet?"

A very faint, but audible, male voice replied, "Yes".

Unaware of the conversation outside the door, Cass figured out the idea on her own and grabbed the clothes bar over her head in the closet. As soon as she did that, her shirt started moving and she felt very cold. She decided not to say anything and just allowed the spirit to do what he wanted. Sure enough, her blouse was pulled up over her head and her bra was pulled down releasing her fairly impressive rack. She wiggled her head enough that she could see and all she saw was a ghostly tongue licking her breasts as invisible hands were pulling down her shorts. She was so turned on that she was already dripping and the tongue began lapping it up. He was good, very good.

"You can go all the way, if you want... I don't mind. Uhhh, mmmm, as a matter of fact, I insist!"

The faint whisper sadly replied, "I... can't."

"Why the Hell not?"

"War... injury..."

"You don't have to be hampered by the frailties of your old body anymore. You can be what you were before the injury."

At that point, the door became cold as ice and all of the batteries in our equipment in the hall died. The lights in the building started blinking and the power went off. Nothing we could do would budge that door. I asked about a ladder to get to the window from the outside. Inside the room, the tongue had started to manifest more features. First, a shadowy outline of a man, then, according to Cass, the form of a very well built man.

"Darling, if you can make that tongue solid, you can make anything big and hard..." And he did.

We could hear the bumping sound of Sister Christian's ass hitting the wall of the closet as the Major pounded her with his decades long pent up desire. She explained afterward that with each stroke, his form became more solid and defined until his hands were all over her, his mouth was mauling her nipples, and she could feel his newly replaced balls slapping against her thighs. Luckily, she didn't mind it a little rough...

"That's it, Big Man! Keep it coming! Harder!"

They came together. As soon as she peaked, he knew it and let loose. From the hall, we heard a huge splashing sound like a small wave crashing and Cass moaned loudly. The door opened by itself and the power came back on. There was Cass, sitting on the floor of the closet, covered head to toe in clear ectoplasmic slime with a happy contented smile on her face.

Hannah's tits sprang to life pointing to the ceiling, almost giving the poor girl whiplash, as a bright white light appeared for only a second and a ball of blue light shot toward it and into it, then disappeared. When we went to help Sis up, an old lady's head poked through the door, literally.

"He's home now and we can go, too. Thank you." She drifted over to Cass, "Damn, girl, you could have made a fortune in my day...", and she faded away.

Hannah's tits plopped down as gravity exerted itself on them once more. Sister Christian's smile had faded though, in fact, she looked to be seething.

"What's wrong, Cass?'

"She said I'd make a good whore!"

"It was a compliment, I think," Hannah blurted out.

"She should know," said Dee Dee, "that was the Madam of the Titty Villa who committed suicide here when they closed the place down after the Major was killed. I recognized her from the pictures."

Cass pondered for a moment, "Well, she was a professional, I suppose, and she was watching the entire time..."

All together we exclaimed, "What?"

"At the door, her head was there almost from the start with that motherly smile, it was creepy."

"And that's why we couldn't open the door." I had no other explanation. "Then, when you were finished, she let us in."

While Sparks helped Sis clean up, Hannah and I walked the entire building and she could not find anything amiss. Her hooters were still. The spirits that were bound here were free. Our mission was a complete success. I looked at my watch, it was almost 10:30 and we still needed to gather up our equipment. Another job down the drain, I'd never make it back to town in time. Oh, well.

EPILOGUE

As a courtesy, Dee Dee did a follow up call to the Major's only living relative, his second nephew. The nephew was taken aback by the slightly sanitized account of his great, great uncle being freed to his final reward. He offered to send us a piece of evidence to finish off our file on the case that he said would explain everything. We received a scan of pages from the Major's memoirs. The page was missing an exact date but it was certainly late in the war.

"It was a pretty beaten up town when we got there. Many buildings were just burnt out shells, I don't even remember the name of the place, just the destruction and the abandonment. The Germans fled fearing our advance, maybe they thought we were Russians. The houses that were in one piece looked like the family had gone out and would be back soon. We checked for injured and for any hold outs who might be waiting for us building by building.

I got to a bar, an officer's hangout by the looks of it. The booze was mostly gone and what was left didn't take me long to get rid of. There were swastikas and pictures of the Dick-tator everywhere. Upstairs had rooms for whores. Downstairs was an empty wine cellar and a room with a big wooden door, latched from the outside. I pulled my sidearm and opened the door slowly. The booze was not taking away that much of my edge. Anything could have been in that room, but I never would imagined what I found.

It was a torture chamber with whips, chains, coal pits with pokers, and blood stains everywhere. In the corner, there was a body hanging from a hook in the ceiling, hands bound over her head and limp. It was a woman facing the wall, naked and abused something terrible. Her long black hair was caked and matted with dried blood, lash marks and burns all over her skin. The hook swiveled and I turned her around.

Even with all the wounds, you could see she had been very pretty. I'd never seen naked boobs that big in my life. She must have been a gypsy which gave the bastards free reign to do horrible things to her, I guess. I would love to blame the liquor, but I think I was just crazy horny. I touched her right breast expecting to feel cold flesh, but it was warm. She was alive, barely.

I'd seen enough death between the two World Wars to know there was no chance of saving her, but I got her some water and poured it into her mouth. She choked a little and water ran down her chest cleaning some of the blood as it went. Her eyes didn't open, but up close, I could hear a low rattle of breath.

I took a bowl and a rag and cleaned her up. My God, she was perfect, once you allowed for the scars and burns. When I reached her crotch with the rag, she stirred a little. I wasn't the most experienced guy in the world, but it wasn't right down there. They had done stuff. There were ugly scars and burn marks. As I wiped her slit, she moaned a little.

I never thought I deserved to burn in Hell before that day. God forgive me, I kept playing with her as I got hard. Looking back, I knew she had broken ribs and her breathing was painful. I had to know that moving her brought her only agony. But, I thought she was going to die soon and there was nothing to be done about that. She seemed to enjoy what I was doing or at least, that's how I chose to interpret her sounds. Maybe I could make her last moments happy?

I took off my pants. When I entered her, her eyes opened wide. She spoke a language I did not understand and it was very weak. I hear the pain and rage in my head now, but I didn't hear it then. I was lost in the moment. I kissed her breasts, not the battered face with her swollen lips and most of her teeth knocked out. My hands grabbed deep into her butt cheeks, despite the raw red welts from whippings, as I thrust into her like a madman.

It was the worst thing I ever did in my life and the best sex I'd ever had or would ever have. Her last words were a curse against me. With her dying breath, she spat at me. I did not understand her language, but I knew what she had been saying as I emptied the last of my cum in her corpse. I fell back when I realized she was gone and I realized what I'd done. I was completely sober then. I cried like a baby for her, for my shame. After all the abuse she had endured, I raped her to the end of her life and beyond. I got sick and threw up.