An Invitation from Beyond

[afternooner]

Alex gets a second chance

I can't believe I heard her say "Would you like to explore this place?" In fact I was so dumbfounded that before I could think of a snappy comeback I simply answered that I would.

Together we went through the door and down the hallway. It was dark and musty smelling, dust and cobwebs everywhere. We saw a door with a big blue star on it. Tiffany looked at me, I shrugged my shoulders and opened it. It slid quietly open and a cold breeze passed us. Along with the breeze was a faint sound, hard to distinguish but I swear it was the sound of applause.


We stepped inside and the door closed silently behind us .We were in a dressing room. A mirror with a row of lights behind a dressing table and chair.faded newspaper clippings and posters adorned the walls. costumescovered with dust, of all styles and colors were draped over chairs and hanging on hooks on the walls. I shuddered as the cold breeze returned I turned to open the door but it was locked I searched franticly for another exit. There was another sound in the air, the sound of an orcestra tunning up. Another door across the room opened by itself and we moved quickly toward it. As we went through it, it closed behind us. We were astounded by what we saw next.


we were in a theater coming in from behind the stage The house was packed every seat full. The curtain was rising. my heart was in my throat. I looked In Tiffany's eyes and saw a reflection of my terror, or was it terror, no it was stage fright!

 

[MtnAngelWV]

Once I have regained my strength, I decided to seek out my guests to see what they are doing. I must remember not to attempt to assume another's body for a while. It took so much of my energy that I may have missed out on the excitement.

When I enter the parlor I find that my attendees are no longer contained in this room. Taking a few minutes, I realize that most of them had paired up before I went to rest. Alex and Tiffany had been the last to recognize their mutual attraction. I decide to go in search of these two.

 

[Stirling]

Richard Winthorpe

Grace was in a sullen mood as we made our way down the hall. Where I walked with a keen, alert sensitivity, employing senses I never knew I had, certain that something occult was afoot, she walked straight ahead with a minimum of effort, making no attempt to be silent, not even bothering to shine her light into corners or cloth-covered recesses. She merely blundered after me, intent on getting yet another job done, muttering under her breath.

I hardly noticed. Something was in my blood. Ever since I'd felt the chill in the other room, when I read the will, I had been getting very strong feelings that something was wrong with this place, with this Hillcrest lady. I did not, of course, believe in ghosts but I considered it entirely possible that something like ectoplasm, some residual psychic energy, could perhaps exist. To me, this was a thrill I hadn't felt since my nearly lost youth. Before prep school, before the fraternity, before law school, before the ceaseless ritual of the rich had made me a zombie. I chased childhood phantoms down those ill-lit corridors, and our flashlights waved narrow, inexpert spotlights into the shadowy recesses of the vast, uninhabited mansion.

Ahead of us the corridor suddenly branched two ways, each fork looking darker and more foreboding its mate. But I was fearless! I felt like Mulder, and beside me was a reluctant Scully. Well, Grace. I looked at her, in the half-light there at the end of the hall, there was something I hadn't noticed before…I try to share with her my enthusiasm, my suspicions. "What do you know of the occult?"

Then suddenly I felt the air cool, quicken, just as it had before, almost as if being draw out of the room while sound itself dulled and time seemed to vanish. Paranoid, I put both hands to my belt, determined not to be attacked again, but this time it was not me. I watched with horrified fascination as Grace's eyes -- her entire face -- flickered from a state of terror to something else, though that something else was itself almost too terrible to behold. It was as if an entity had possessed her, and within a second she changed her posture, her expression, her stance.

Her arm reached out, gripped mine by the elbow. Fingers of ice. Her voice, an octave lower than it should've been. "I have extensive knowledge of that subject, dear," she said, her eyes, now almost fiery bright, seeming to mock me. Supernatural terror tore up and down my spine.

I could only stare with my mouth open, at the transformation that's come over her. She moved like one drunk, but I've never seen Grace drink, and this was something more. Something wickedly purposeful about her movements. I found out what. She wrapped her arms around me, cold claws, pulling me to her forcefully. Then, she began to sing. "Unforgettable…that's what you are…'

I wanted to scream. Some … creature … had taken control of Grace's body and was now forcing me to dance with it. Grinning hideously, paralyzed with fear, I complied. Step to the left, step to the right. "Unforgettable…" the ghost sang, while I could only think of terror, of escape.

Then just as suddenly the entity vanished, the ghostly music vanished. It was Grace -- sweet, loyal, brilliant Grace -- in my arms now. She let go of me, stepped away, blushing furiously. "I – I don't know what came over me, Mr. Winthorpe. I'm sorry."

I crossed myself reflexively, a motion half-forgotten. She looked faint, weakened from the experience, and I knelt before her, took her hands and guided her into a seating position. "Shh," I said tenderly, checking her brow with my palm. Her pulse was high, her blood abnormally warm. I looked her in the eye, almost awestruck. "Did you feel it? The ghost I mean? I think … something happened."

She was weak from the ordeal, nearly faint. I…I saw her for the first time as a woman, not an employee. Her hair, falling in unkempt curls around her face now, her eyes fluttering. I put my arm around her, explaining my muddled, ill-informed theories about ghosts and ectoplasm with all the coherence of someone who's seen a UFO.

Finally I tell her, "I think you need a jolt. Let's get you to the kitchen, some coffee or maybe a belt." I help her to her feet, but soon she is recovering from the shock of being posessed. Resilient, she is. I make a joke as we backtrack through the dusty, shadowy halls. "Well at least now you know, it's boxers, not briefs." Impulsively I give her a quick hug as we make our way to the kitchen.

 

[Kimberly]

After first going through one door and seeing alot of costumes and props. we go there another door. I get a cold chill and then I see a audience of thousands. It is like we went back in time. My eyes become huge and I become still. I cannot move a muscle due to the stage fright. Before I can even blink an eye a woman walks up to me and then through me. I scream in shock and fall to the floor, fainting from the chill that went through me and the fact that it was a ghost. Alex, seeing me faint rushes to my side asking if I am alright. The audience applauding as the curtain falls shortly after.

 

[Ticklish Girl]

Grace Miller

Coffee sounded really good right about now. As we headed for the kitchen I felt some of my vitality returning, but I was still pretty drained. I was also embarrassed and very confused. I didn’t have an answer for what had happened. At least Winthorpe wasn’t making me feel like an ass for – for the way I acted back there. I guess he couldn’t, not after the way he mooned us. I smiled at him, feeling a sliver of affection for the man. He smiled back and joked, “Well, at least now you know, it’s boxers, not briefs.” I chuckled and he gave me a little hug. That felt good too, although I had to admit that it didn’t feel as good as our prolonged embrace of a few minutes ago.

We found the kitchen and Winthorpe had me sit at the butcher-block table as he fixed the coffee. He offered me a shot of brandy, and I decided to take him up on it. The old lady was richer than God, so it was likely that she had some of the good stuff. He hunted around, then found a bottle of Glenlivet in one of the cabinets. As the coffee brewed he poured each of us a shot. I took a tiny sip, then leaned back in the chair and felt it burn a path down my throat to my tummy. I sighed. “That’s nice,” I said.

He sat in the chair opposite me and watched my face keenly. I stared back at him, puzzled. Then I understood. “You want to know what it felt like, don’t you?” I asked. “Well, it’s kind of hard to explain. One minute everything was okay, and the next it was like…” I frowned, groping for the right words. “It was like, I was in my car, and somebody just opened the driver’s side door and shoved me into the passenger seat and then took over the wheel. That’s the closest I can come to describing it. I was aware of what was going on, but I was unable to do anything about it. I was a passenger in my own body. Somebody – something else was driving. Controlling my limbs. Putting words in my mouth. I was watching my body do things, but I had no power to influence anything. And then there’s that song. The words just popped into my head, and I definitely heard the melody playing as I was singing it. And then everything was over, just like that. It was a very uncomfortable experience, let me tell you.” Winthorpe nodded as I spoke, his eyes bright. It had been a long time since I had seen him look so interested in something.

By then the coffee was ready, and he poured us each a strong cup. I took it black, with just a half teaspoon of sugar. It tasted pretty good. My energy came surging back. We sipped in silence for a couple of minutes. I was thinking about his rambling theories about the paranormal. Considering them carefully.

Finally I just had to say it. “Do you really think this house is haunted?”

 

[Stirling]

Richard Winthorpe

Grace looked tired and pale until we reached the kitchen, but once she had a bit of coffee and brandy in her she revived magnificently. I marveled, in awe, watching her sip her drink. These supernatural events, they'd transformed my outlook as radically as an LSD trip. I looked at Grace with eyes born anew. She was as beautiful as twilight on a tree-lined lake shore. Yet she had worked for me for three years and I'd paid her no more mind than the doorman. Her lips, unglossed but round, hypnotized me.

Without even being asked, she began to explain the strange sensations she'd felt while possessed. I'd never heard her explain something personal like this before, not with such passion, such conviction. Always before she had spoken in the dry legal language of the courts. "The party of the first said to the party of the second." That kind of thing.

Now, she was speaking frankly, from the heart. I had to reach out across the table, to hold her hands steady as she spoke. Her palms were warm coals in my own, matched only by her eyes. We sipped our coffee, warmed our waning courage with matched shots of the old woman's ancient Scotch. Finally she leaned forward, her cheeks almost red now from the whiskey and exertion. "Do you really think this house is haunted?" she asks, regarding me quizzically.

I look at her carefully. Her eyes, almost imperial slates of stone, stared back. She is earnest, she is serious. She knows. She knows what this place is about.

I nod my head slowly. "Haunted. Or whatever you want to call it. Paranormal events are taking place. However you want to phrase it. Surely, you -- " I look carefully into her eyes, looking for a spark of mischief or deceit. There is none. -- "You experienced this thing. Let's not try to deny facts." My transformation from dry lawyer to occult investigator may seem precipitate on the surface, but to me it was only the logical culmination of long-buried interests with the world-view shattering reality of what had just happened.

I meant then to say something practical. Something like, We should round up the others. Alert them to their peril. Gather everyone together and run for the priest. But I felt my body suddenly slow down, unresponsive, as if I was drifting to sleep. The room around me dissipated into a parade of shapes and sprites, mostly unformed. The only thing I could see was Grace, and I held onto her hands fiercely, as I sunk out of my chair onto the floor, feeling the unholy incipient paralysis brought about by this ghostly possession. The last thing I managed, even as my legs locked beneath me and my hands froze solid was a slurred phrase. "It's got-got-me, Grace. Run!!"

 

[MtnAngelWV]

I find Alex and Tiffany standing on the stage I had set for them. The scene is from the last play my beloved husband had written before his untimely death. My beloved had one opportunity to see his work brought to fruition. At the end of his first and last appearance he had asked me to run away with him and get married. He was a seducer of words just as Alex has been. The audience is applauding for Alex and Tiffany, cheering them on.

Tiffany has fainted and Alex goes to her. This ingenue looks so like myself when I was her age. I stand next to her as I long for the time that disappeared as a thief in the night. I brush her cheek with my hand so that I may be able to feel the softness there. The only sensation I had felt for so long when I touched my own flesh was cold and wrinkled. Tiffany felt warm and pliable to my finger tips. I whisper her name into the darkness of the theater, pleading with her. For I longed to feel the joy that she would inevitably feel with Alex.

[Edited by MtnAngelWV on 06-02-2001 at 04:36 PM]

 

[Xantham]

Stan

"Maybe this will help"

The performance Michelle gave while removing her bra almost made me burst through my shorts. Luckily the silk held out.

"Do you want to see more?"

I could only nod, words were starting to fail me. Of course, after what I had been saying earlier, perhaps it was a good thing. As she revealed her breasts to me, I felt the heat in the room rise another degree or two. Her breasts hadn't needed a bra, they were pert and a perfect size for my hands, I could easily wrap one hand around each if I got the chance, and I thought I might.

"Why don't you let me see what's up under those shorts?" Michelle said as she sat on the edge of the spa.

How could I refuse a request like that? I moved over beside he near the spa. Turning around I bent over at the waist. Then I bent my knees rubbing my silk short-covered derierre down her leg. When I reached a full squat I started back up again, but held my shorts down at my ankles so that just my butt rubbed her legs on the way up. I stood up and kicked my shorts across the room. So far my hard-on had been hidden by my body, so I reached behind and took one of Michelle's hands in my own and placed it on my engorged organ and asked, "Is this what you want to see?"

 

[missla]

Michelle

As Stan tossed his shorts aside, I could see his muscular ass twitching every time he moved. He took one of my hands and moved it to the front of his body and laid it onto his hard cock. It was so soft and warm, and it felt enormous! I tried to wrap my small hand around it and I sould not quite do it. I had to see it - I turned him around, my hand never leaving his erection - my eyes opened wide! It was easily the biggest and best-looking cock I had ever seen. I ran my hand up and down it a few times, and it jumped in my hand a couple of times. He reached for my tiny thong and began to pull it down - I lifted my hips to help him, and soon it was on the floor with his shorts. I was a natural blonde, and the hair between my legs was so light colored and fine, it looked like there was none. Stan's eyes widened and he reached for me, but I quickly released his cock and stepped into the hot tub. "You want to join me??"

 

[Ticklish Girl]

Grace Miller

"Haunted,” Winthorpe said. “Or whatever you want to call it. Paranormal events are taking place. However you want to phrase it. Surely, you experienced this thing. Let's not try to deny facts."

I nodded and took a sip of Scotch. He was right. We needed to make a plan of action to cope with whatever was going on. Ignoring the evidence would get us nowhere. I studied Winthorpe’s slightly flushed, animated face. He looked so different to me now. He looked alive, liberated. I had always thought of him as a somewhat dry and stuffy man, as bland as a slice of Wonder Bread. But now a new side of him was emerging. It was as if he had been waiting all his life for something like this.

Suddenly something went wrong. Winthorpe’s face became taut with panic and all the color rushed out of it. He seized my hands, almost crushing them, as his body flopped bonelessly out of his chair and onto the floor, almost taking me down with him. His mouth opened and closed rapidly, and his legs thrashed briefly before becoming locked in a paralysis. Then his hands slipped off mine and froze, curled uselessly on the floor.

For a moment I thought he was having a heart attack. “Mr. Winthorpe? What’s happened?”

"It's got-got-me, Grace. Run!!"

I jumped out of my chair and backed away from him. One, two paces, and then a horrible weakness seeped into my lower legs, rapidly spreading upward. I gasped and turned to run, but flopped to the floor as if someone had severed my spinal cord. I tried to drag myself forward with my hands, but the paralysis quickly overtook all my limbs. I tried to call for help, but only a strangled cry escaped my tight throat. The kitchen swam out of focus, and slowly everything went black.

I regained consciousness some time later. My eyes opened and as I looked around I realized that I was in bed. The bed had a comfy, familiar feel. I just knew I had slept in it before. It felt so safe, so warm, I wanted to stay there forever.

Just then, a voice said, “Hey there, Gracie. You feel better? You fainted or something.” Like the bed, the voice was familiar. It came from the doorway.

I sat up and looked at the dark-haired man leaning casually against the doorjamb, arms folded across his chest. My brain felt heavy and slow as it tried to figure out what was going on. No, this had to be a trick. Because nobody called me Gracie. Nobody but…

“Oh my god," I breathed. "Dan??”

 

[ariosto]

I tried to reach her through him, through the shyster.
Her echo was in the room with this girl Grace, I heard her voice from a great distance. I looked in this woman's eyes
with his and saw she that was gone. Only the aura lingered on.
Grace started to move, to run towards the door, I had to
stay with her to follow the trail to sense the direction.
I left the man Richard sprawled on the floor and I felt myself flowing into this warm body, this woman's warm body, I felt faint traces of my beloved within! She had been here as I'd thought!

LAUREN!
I screamed,
Where are you?

Then a hammer blow, I reeled, the woman staggered, falling heavily.
Another was here with me. Another!
Not Lauren at all! Someone dark, someone...

 

[Xantham]

Stan

When Michelle turned me around and began to slide her delicate hand up and down my cock, I thought I was going to explode right then and there. I pulled myself together and decided that I didn't want to be naked all by myself. I gently slid her thong down her legs noticing that the crotch of the thong was soaked and smelled of woman. Her pussy was covered by a fine sprinling of blonde hairs. They looked like silk, yet the small droplets caught on some of the hairs gave proof of their existance. I reached for Michelle , but she broke away and climbed into the hot tub, "You want to join me??"

"Oh yeah, I need to work away some of this tension that I've been working up." I climb into the hot tub next to Michelle. The jets of water feel great against my back and ass as I ease into the very warm water. I wrap one arm around Michelle and slide my other hand to caress her breasts just underneath the water, gently teasing her nipples and feeling her heart beat in her chest. Likewise she reaches over to my cock and begins to slowly and sensually slide her hand up and down. We both can feel the release of energies as we relax into this. We know there is no need to rush through things, we have all night. Or at least until the candles burn out.

 

[MtnAngelWV]

My wonderment of feeling Tiffany's soft supple form is interrupted. I hear my beloved's voice callling out to me. Have I truly been mad all these years and the insanity has followed me beyond? I suppress a tear. I must need him so much that I have hallucinated. I have heard his cry for me before on the night of my earthly death. Am I to die again? Is my spirit waning from this world too? "No!! Not yet!!" I scream into the darkened theater.

 

[missla]

Michelle

Stan climbed into the hot tub beside me and immediately took my breast nearest him into his hand. His big hands ran gently over the soft flesh, and his fingers teased my nipple until it was rock hard. Speaking of rock hard, my hand found its way to Stan's cock, which was not too difficult to find. It was standing at attention as I closed my hand around it and began to move it up and down, slowly from the tip down to his balls. He leaned over and kissed me - as he did I let my hand slip lower and I caressed his big balls, rolling them in my hand for a moment, and then running my hand up the length of him again. We continued to play with each other, getting hotter by the second.

 

[MtnAngelWV]

Time is running out...

I feel as though my time here is coming to an end so I must work quickly. I left Tiffany and Alex to explore the theater as I fly through the house. I decided to check on Cassie and Joey. I find that they are still locked in the basement.

Cassie is trying depserately to open the door. Oh, Dear, I did not mean to scare her only to bring these two closer. I descend the stairs past her, brushing up against her left hip. I only wish that I had had more time to touch her as I had touched Tiffany.

Then he was there; Joey standing in one spot staring at the ceiling, too embarrassed to move I suppose. I glance up to see him looking at himself. The picture was taken at his senior prom. Damn, I meant to display that the next time he brought one of his cheap girlfriends around.

In the photograph, Joey is standing next to an Amazon-like woman. If the woman's smile had been any bigger someone would have had to move her ears farther back on her head. Joey has on a powder blue tuxedo with a ruffled shirt. That picture has always amused me. Maybe that will knock him down a peg or two, I think.

It's not that I don't like Joey. He has some very endearing qualities. I just need to help him become the man I know he is capable of being.

Even though I know that my energy will be exhausted, I enter Joey's body. In his body, I slowly climb the rickety steps in search of Cassie. "It might be a while before anyone looks for us," I say in a low raspy voice through his mouth. She turns around and looks at me. It is almost as if she knows something is not right. This Cassie is a spirited woman, not unlike myself.

 

[Ticklish Girl]

Grace Miller

“Dan?” I said again.

“Who else would it be?” he said, with that little chuckle I knew so well.

I tried to get out of the bed, only to fall back with a groan as a wave of weakness flowed over my body.

“Take it easy, Gracie. Don’t try to move.”

I stared dully at him. “How’d I get here? I was in the Hillcrest house, with Mr. Winthorpe … the old lady died and left these people her estate…”

Dan came in the room, stood beside the bed and laid his hand on my forehead. His palm felt cool. “Far as I know, old lady Hillcrest is still alive and crazy as a bedbug,” he said. “And you haven’t left the house in weeks. You’ve been very sick.”

“I have?” I looked around the room, recognizing it at last as my own bedroom. “How come I don’t remember it?”

Dan stroked my hair. “You’ve been having some pretty intense hallucinations. Yelling all kinds of crazy stuff. You even seemed to think that I broke off our engagement.”

I held up my hands and studied them, as if I had never seen them before. Sure enough, the engagement ring was on my finger. “But – but you did break it off. You dumped me two years ago. Why did you come back now?”

“Come back? I never left, hon. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

I closed my eyes against a sudden surge of dizziness. “No,” I muttered. “You said you’d always be there, but you lied.” There was no answer, and after a moment I felt his hand withdraw. I opened my eyes again to see Dan looking down at me with that guilty little boy expression that, like his laugh, was something I knew very well. Once I had found it charming, but now it made me angry.

“You did dump me,” I said, and pushed myself to a sitting position. The weakness rolled over me and I struggled against it, gasping for breath.

“Gracie, lie back, you’re not strong enough.”

“Shut up,” I muttered. Somehow I swung my legs over the side of the bed and put my feet on the floor. The effort made me grunt and wheeze. My legs felt as if they weighed two hundred pounds each. I sat rigidly on the edge of the bed, glaring up at Dan, who retreated a couple of steps.

“Gracie, honey, stop talking crazy.” But the guilty expression never left his face.

“I’m not talking crazy,” I said. “I’m going to tell you what happened. Two months before our wedding day you came to me and said that we had to break it off. When I asked you why, you said that you had run into Amy a few weeks before and the two of you went out for coffee. One thing led to another and you both realized that you should never have broken up in the first place. That you were meant to be together. You sat in my living room and said these things to me. You had that same ‘What a Bad Boy I Am’ look on your face the whole time. Then you asked me for the ring back. Do you remember that? Honey?” My voice rose as I went on, becoming higher and louder as all the anger that had been bottled up for two years came flooding back. Rage circulated through my system, flushing out the weak feeling. It was wonderful. I shoved myself off the bed and stood, wobbling a littlhe.

Dan staggered backward another step. “The last thing I wanted to do was hurt you,” he said.

“You stupid bastard! How did you think I’d feel? Good?” He froze, as if my words had thrown a net around him. I forced my legs to move, step by painful step, until I was face to face with him, glaring up at him. His body shook and his face was contorted in a miserable expression, but he did not try to move away.

“I’ve always wanted to ask you something,” I said. “Did you ever love me? Or were you just marking time till Amy came back to redeem her pawn ticket?"

“Gracie, come on now, that’s not fair–”

“Getting me to fall in love with you and then throwing me away – was that fair?” I raised my fist and struck him as hard as I could in the chest. He flinched but remained standing.

I had always wanted to tell him how badly he had hurt me. Two years ago I had been too numb to do more than stare at him. When he asked me for the ring I complied as if he had hypnotized me, slipping it off my finger and handing it to him without a word. Then I watched, paralyzed, as he walked out of my house without even saying goodbye. I didn’t even cry until long after he was gone. I never saw him again – a few weeks after breaking off the engagement he and his precious Amy had moved out of state. Over time I must have replayed that scene in my living room a thousand times, forcing myself to relive the anger and hurt. But it was the humiliation I hated most of all. I hated knowing that I had sat there and let him rip my world apart and I didn’t even try to fight back. That knowledge had haunted me for the last two years.

Some sort of dam seemed to break inside my heart. I punched him in the chest and stomach again and again, using as much force as I could muster, screaming at him the whole time, calling him a bastard and a user and a creep – all the names I had wanted to call him two years ago. Through it all he made no effort to defend himself. He just stood there and took my abuse, hands at his sides, not making a sound.

Finally I ran out of energy and simply stood there, panting. I had hit Dan hard enough to put him on the floor, or at least bruise him, but he was still standing, staring at me with a sorrowful expression. His form looked somehow fuzzy and indistinct, like an out-of-focus photo. Or maybe my vision was just blurry with tears.

“You son of a bitch,” I said. “You took so much from me.”

I glanced down at my hands and saw the ring. The sight of it sparked my rage all over again. I wrenched it off my finger, hurting myself but not caring. “Take this too, you fuck!” I shouted, and flung the ring as hard as I could at him, the way I had always wanted to do it.

The ring hit him in the chest and bounced off, falling to the floor with a tinkling sound. When it touched him, it set off a shower of sparks. The sparks flew from him and surrounded me like a cluster of fireflies, swirling faster and faster. All I could see were the twinkling, spinning lights revolving around me, then dissolving into one huge blazing light…

The next thing I knew, I was lying on my stomach on a hard surface. Slowly I pushed myself up with my arms, then grabbed a chair for support. Somehow I managed to stand up, although I had to hold onto the chair for a few minutes. I looked around and understood where I was: the kitchen of the Hillcrest house. There was a man lying on the floor near me. Now I remembered what had happened. I was here having coffee with my boss…

“Mr. Winthorpe?” I said. “Can you hear me? Are you all right?”

 

[SexyChele]

Cassie

Standing at the door, I frantically try to pry it open. Telling myself it's not spooks and goblins.....just a very old house, and the doors probably close in drafts, and they stick...that's all...just d o n ' t p a n i c!!!

Yeah, right...

Suddenly a feel...what? A brush, a whisper? There, against my left hip. It's dim, but there's nothing there when I turn. OK, girl, get a grip. You're too old for this kind of shit.

"JOE! Come up here!"

I hear his footsteps on the stairs. Well, finally...

When he speaks, it is not with his voice. I turn around, almost expecting a ghost to materialize on the steps....but, it's just Joe. Still....there's something - -different about him. Like the ring on Mr. Winthorpe's finger....just out of reach as to what it is. I narrow my eyes, and look harder....

"Joe? No, you aren't really you, are you?"

Taking a step back up the stairs...

"Who are you....what are you....w-w-what d-d-do you w-w-want with m-m-me?"

 

[rambling man]

I am a prisoner within my mind. I see the world but cannot respond to it. I feel as if I am in a dreamlike state mentally. Physically I feel something inside my body but not within. I feel male, then female, then male again. I sense the controlling presence of a mind not my own. I see Cassie look at me with apprehension.
I feel my own confusion, yet the "other" seems wild and manic. I am so scared, I have no idea what is wrong. Have I been drugged? Have I been possessed? Is this permanent, temporary, maybe split personality. I can do nothing but feel the strange sensations and wait for the alien inside me to do whatever it will do.
Strangely, though, it feels erotic, I feel my own arousal and that of the "other" It warms me within in new and strange areas. What is this possession doing to me physically? Will it change my body, my mind? I am sure the "other" is female. However, I don't know who or why.

 

[SexyChele]

Cassie

I see a strange look of fear and pleasure cross his face. Something weird is happening...but what?

"Joe? Joe, you ok??"

When he doesn't respond, I raise my face to the ceiling...

"You leave him alone!!!" I shout.

As I hear my voice echo in the room, I realize I may just be yelling to empty air.....







(OOC: Good to have you back rambling man!)

 

[Stirling]

Richard

Slipping into the black well of unconsciousness was as easy as falling asleep -- if I were the kind of person that fell asleep easily. But I wasn't, secret worries and doubts haunted me, and I dreaded each evening's battle with insomnia as much as I feared the grave.

That wasn't a problem now. I felt as if I was already asleep, and the events at Hillcrest were just another dream, so rapidly had the world shifted.

We were standing on the edge of a graveyard, three of us, our flashlights shining dimly onto a recently opened pit, our shovels like heavy emblems of guilt in our hands. Early morning fog coiled like the breath of the dead in that dark, wooded place.

Cavendish knelt in the dirt of a fresh grave, beside the open coffin, pressing his hand against the neck of the young man in the open box. After a moment, he was certain.

"He's dead," he said, his face as mournful as ash. He rose quickly, brushing dirt from his pants even then.

"Are you sure?" I asked, a lump of fear in my throat.

He frowned. "I'm pre-med, Rich. Give me some credit."

"Oh no," Sanders groaned beside me. "We killed Eric? No way."

"We better call the police," I said.

Cavendish slammed his spade against the coffin lid. "Are you mad? We'll be expelled for sure."

"Oh geez," Sanders complained. "Expelled? My dad will kill me."

"We can't just leave him here!" I said, waving my flashlight wildly. "Besides, it was an accident!"

"I can see the headlines now," Cavendish said dryly. " 'Death at Yale -- Three Arrested for Burying Frat Pledge Alive.' "

"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit," Sanders moaned.

Suddenly we heard a car coming up the hill -- the watchman, he must've seen the lights! We took off at a run down the silent, rain-darkened paths, throwing ourselves over the iron fence safely, our shovels and lights, abandoned as we piled into Sanders' Benz and squealed off into the night.

Eric did make the newspaper, but we didn't. There was an investigation of course -- it's not every day a lieutenant governor's son ends up in an open coffin at the Center Church Graveyard -- but nothing came of it. That's what we told ourselves anyway. There were a few casual inquiries at Eric's fraternity, but nothing that ever reached our group -- the secret fraternity within the fraternities, Skull and Bones. For once, our elaborate and outdated precautions didn't seem like such a silly thing...

Then the dark mists in my mind swirled again. I found myself in the docks in a Colonial New England courthouse, everyone dressed in stark, feudal black ... even Eric, poor dead Eric, who was now very much alive and playing the role of star witness, the blue tincture of asphyxiation still about his face. Beside me in the docket were Cavendish and Sanders. On the hill, seen through the window, was a gallows pole. The judge raised his hammer...

Abruptly I sat up, blinking rapidly. I was in a clean, well-lit space. A kitchen, unfamiliar to me. I looked at my hands, they were shaking uncontrollably. With a will, I clenched them together, stopped the trembling. A woman was there, shaking me.

My eyes blinked through the moisture. "I'm alive." It was so simple, too. I knew what I had to do. In the morning, I would go to the police. Eric's family deserved to know the truth. It was if an iron chain had been removed from my neck. I felt like dancing. I rose to my feet, the house seemed less dreadful now, the old lady's ghost not some fearsome spectre, death not so oppressive.

"My God, what is this place?" I was on my feet, looking wonderingly at the ceiling. I laughed.

Grace looked at me as if I were touched by madness. "Mr. Winthorpe?" she asked hesitantly. "Can you hear me? Are you all right?"

I looked at her. Looked at her, for the first time. She was beautiful, and I was alive. I grabbed her by the hands. "Call me Richard, Rich -- even Dick. Anything but Mr. Winthorpe." I laughed again. Smiled at her. Looked at her again. "My God, you're beautiful, and I'm a fool. How long have you been working for me? Three years?"

I walked to the window, unknotting my painfully tight tie, the S&B clip tracing an arc of silver as I flung the thing into Mrs. Hillcrest's garbage can. In uncertain words, I tried to explain the strange supernatural thing that had just happened to me.

 

[MtnAngelWV]

As I stand here in Joey's body, I slip my hand around Cassie's waist with my our lips just inches away from her neck. She can feel the warmth of our breath on the nape of her neck as I whisper, "It will be alright, my love. I am not here to harm you. I only want to feel some of the joy I had missed in my former life." I kiss her throat tenderly as I guide her down onto the step. I had always wondered about the sensations that a man's body felt.

I could feel a swelling between his legs. It was painful and yet pleasurable all at the same time. Before I could enjoy her flesh, I heard his voice again. He was shouting my name into the air. I rise out of Joey's body and flee the basement. As I leave, the basement door flies open and I scream into the darkened house, "No!! I am not ready yet. I have still not been with him!!"

 

[rambling man]

Joey

The strange sensations fill my body as the "other" becomes aroused. My nipples grew hard, I felt the need to rub myself between the legs as if there was nothing there. Likewise my own cock began to grow hard and stiff, I could tell the "other" enjoyed the sensation of having a hard stiff cock and wanted to try to use it. She moved my body towards Cassie, whose words echoed too faintly for me to understand. In a dream I kissed her neck and she submitted to the touch of the "other." I understood now Cassie wanted the "other." I was jealous, angry, and unbelieveably aroused. Then suddenly, the "other" left my body, too quickly. I fainted and fell to the ground, unable to withstand the shock of its leaving. When I came to I felt relief and dismay. I had grown to like its presence within me and all the sensations I felt. I felt almost incomplete now without its presence.
I looked up at Cassie. I never wanted more to kiss a woman than I did at that point. I passionately kissed her and held her tight. "It's me, now, Cassie. Damn you are beautiful." But secretly I wanted the other, wanted to experience her possession again.

 

[SexyChele]

As Joe came near me and put his arm around me I knew, without knowing how I knew, that some one/something else was a part of him. As he drew me near, I understood that this presence before me was more female than male...in an emotional state. I stood transfixed, not knowing what to expect. As lips tenderly kissed my throat I felt an explosion of feeling. It was as though every nerve in my body was concentrated on that one small spot. Not wanting it to end, I began to give myself over to it.

Then suddenly....it was gone. I opened my eyes, and Joe lay at my feet. Fearing the worse, I rush to his side, calling his name. His eyes open, yet he looks confused. When he sees me, and kisses me, it is with the hard passion of a man aroused. With his kiss I find myself drawn to him, wanting to feel his body next to mine, his hands exploring my body as I wish to do his. And yet, I still think of the softness of the almost caress of lips against my throat. I look at Joe, a little bewildered as to how such a strong man can have such softness in his kiss one moment and demanding desire in the next.

However, Joe's kiss has aroused my feelings of want, that were only touched on earlier. I know the best thing to do would be to get ourselves out of there, maybe find the others, and try to figure out what was happening.

However, my body did not want that. My body wanted this man lying on the floor, and holding me in his arms. Turning slightly to look up at him, I place a gentle kiss on his jaw.

"I'm glad you are.....back, Joe. I have to admit, I was sorta scared there for sec, ya know?"

I feel his arms tighten around me in a squeeze. I turn my body around in his arms, so that I'm laying partially on him, my breasts pressed firmly into his chest, as my hand makes its way down to the bulge still prevalent that is his cock. As I begin to rub his cock, feeling the heat rising within me, I look down at him, my hair forming a blond curtain around us.

"I want you, Joe. I want you more than any other man I've ever known, and it has to be now!"

Still stroking his cock, I bend down, covering his lips with mine, pressing lightly then building in passion. I start to grind my pelvis against his leg, searching for release.

I pull away, looking deeply into his eyes.

"Take my body, Joe. Make it yours...."

 

[rambling man]

Joey

I didn't understand what had happened to me, but Cassie put it out of my mind quickly. I felt her grinding herself on my leg, felt the warm wetness beneath seeping onto my leg.
Immediately I laid her back and ripped her blouse from her body, exposing perfect firm breasts in a lace bra. I kissed her neck and grasped her breast with one hand while sliding my other into her panties. My finger gently moved onto her clit and moved slowly and softly back and forth. I leaned up a bit, smiling down at her, looking at her priceless expression of lust, then I undid her bra and slid it off. I kissed, sucked, nibbled and caressed her breasts as I gently stoked the fire between her legs. Cassie is special and I wanted her to feel special. I felt the juices dripping from her, soaking her panties.
I kissed a trail from her breasts to her stomach, softly, gently, matching my finger on her clit. Then my face lay between her legs, I kissed the soaked fabric, tongued it through to her clit. Her body squirmed, she moaned and begged.
I slid her panties over and lowered my mouth to her, at the same time shoving three fingers inside of her. My tongue gently licked and lapped at her clit, my fingers drove into her deep and hard. My mouth closed around her clit and I sucked as I tongued it, even nibbled it a little. My other hand squeezed and twisted her nipples. I pushed her to a near orgasm then stopped. She looked down in shock and surprise, then I started again. Three times I took her to the brink, then rudely yanked her back, all the while building the pressure inside her.

When I finally allowed her to come it was like a tidal wave picking her body up and therowing it to the ground, like a huge beast consuming her over and over with each wave. It left her dazed and exhausted, yet later I knew I would have to pay for my teasing. When she recovered, she smiled slyly and said "Your turn..."

 

[Xantham]

Stan

I am unable to fathom the depth of emotions now flowing through my body. I've had sex before--college seemed like nothing but football and sex, to be interrupted by occasional classes--but something is different tonight. It's as though I have discovered a new sense to experience with, beyond sight and smell, taste, hearing and even touch. Like a blind man given sight, each familiar situation has gained a new outlook that needed to be explored.

I pressed my lips to Michelle's and tried to drink in her very essence. I needed her more than I had ever needed anyone in my life, before. And I think she needed me, too. We caressed each other, feeling our blood begin to boil. Slowly I picked Michelle up, her light form presenting no difficulty, without once breaking our kiss. I brought her around in front of me and seated her on my lap. My hard cock positioned between us, lying just in the groove of her pussy.

Michelle slid back and forth a few times on my cock sending waves of pleasure rocketing into my brain. I felt somehow light-headed and yet deeply connected to the Earth. The water that flowed around us was like a womb, caressing us, holding us, protecting us. Michelle slid back and taking me in her hand rubbed the head of my cock, red with excitment, over her clit several times, making us both moan with anticipation. Lining us up, Michelle slowly sank down on my hard cock. I could feel her stretch to accept my girth. Each inch felt better than the last. I could feel our excitement building.

My heart raced in time with hers as she slowly took every inch of me into her. Suddenly, just as her hips hips met mine, just on the edge of orgasm, the spa door crashed open, the candles blew out, the jets turned off and I felt Michelle go limp in my arms as I blacked out.

"Well," I heard a voice say...