*The Ghosts of McAfree House is a Chris Jackson original. It is not to be shared or posted without permission. All characters involved in sexual activity are fictional and 18 years old or older. This content is for mature audiences.*
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Olivia Givens and Paris Reyes had been best friends since childhood. They had come up in acting together. No matter how busy their lives got, the two always made sure to see each other three times a year, if not more. The three mandatory days were their birthdays, and this day; Halloween.
They made it to their favorite Halloween party, which they’ve made without fail since they were 18. This party wasn’t in New York City or L.A., but in a quiet, old neighborhood of Boston, Massachusetts.
This year, however, there was a new visitor. A new arrival struck the pair as odd. The party had been invite-only since its conception. All the guests were mutual acquaintances. Except him.
Olivia and Paris were no strangers to strong drink and dank weed, but they drew the line there. They didn’t want to forget the whole party or wake up in a strange place.
Beyond this new arrival being older than them by a considerable amount, he also had more substances with him than Paris and Olivia were okay with.
It was no mystery to our Hollywood girls what was happening; the room around them was filling with pills, LSD, and cocaine.
The girls understood they were adults and all. It was a Wannabe of the Rich and Famous party. It had also been a hell of a year. But this was too much, and it didn’t seem like the party they once knew. And all because of him. The new guy.
Olivia and Paris decided it was time to leave before something regrettable, or even dangerous, could happen.
Paris and Olivia managed to sneak out perfectly unnoticed. The pair ran down the cobblestone path back to the street, hand in hand.
—
The night was still young. The duo had plenty of energy and just enough alcohol in their systems to make them mischievous. They only hoped that the alcohol they had imbibed in was just that—alcohol.
“Hey Liv,” Paris said, squeezing her blonde friend’s hand harder. It was also at this time that Olivia realized she was still holding Ms. Reyes’s hand. “Isn’t that the old McAfree House? I’ve heard people talk about it at the party every year.”
A light of remembrance flashed in Givens’s eyes and her lips curled back in a slow smile. “Don’t they say it’s the most haunted house in Boston?”
“They sure do,” Paris smiled back and turned to Givens. Holding both her hands, Paris said, “Liv, I dare you to go in.”
“Oh, hell no!” the pint-sized blonde said, fervently shaking her head. Her shiny hair swished back and forth in front of her soft brown eyes. “If I go in at all, you’re coming with me,” the brave but not stupid former Disney girl told the other.
“Ooh! We should stay the night. I have a phone charger in my purse. We can film the whole thing,” the brunette Filipino suggested.
Olivia chewed her lip in thought, letting her friend gently pull her closer to the old, stately mansion. “Alright. I’m in. If anything happens, we have each other’s back, right?”
“Of course!” Paris laughed. A streetlight lit up her eyes as if she was a dangerous ghoul. To Olivia, she might as well have been. “I’ll fight with you, if a homeless squatter jumps you. Unless he’s hot. Then I’ll just keep rolling. Might even watch,” she said through her giggles.
“You’re fucking gross, you know that?” Givens asked. She rolled her eyes as they found themselves climbing the steps. The red, faded paint was chipping off bit by bit.
Paris smiled cheekily and stuck out her pink tongue. Then she tried the door. It was unlocked, of course. Paris smiled again and ushered in her slightly smaller friend.
Olivia gasped as they passed through a long hallway lined with mirrors. Every footstep was amplified by the creaking of the dusty hardwood floor. They stumbled into a giant foyer, making Olivia gasp at its grandeur.
This one room looked bigger than the whole house did from the outside. The room was old and dusty but still had a stately, commanding air to it. The double staircase and baluster led to a high landing that overlooked the room. It was getting larger by the minute, making the girls feel like they were shrinking.
A great oil portrait of four stately men hung on the wall of the landing. Four impeccably dressed fellows were sitting in high, straight-backed chairs with armrests. There was a woman; pale, and gorgeous with flaming red hair and wearing a black ruffled dress. She was standing behind the two center chairs.
“They must have owned this house,” Olivia guessed.
“This house is so old, though. There is no way they’re the first owners,” Paris said. She began to explore the still expanding space, her phone already recording.
Olivia began documenting as well, and the first words caught on her phone were “We should split up and investigate.” The last words any girl should mutter in an old mansion.
She wished she had not said those words, because as soon as she did, as if on cue, the lights on the wall all flashed on. The sudden burst of light nearly blinded the pair of amateur sleuths.
They both paused, took a deep breath, and separated. Paris stayed downstairs.
Olivia began the climb up the staircase on the left-hand side to see what lay in wait on the second floor.
Olivia felt the clichéd “the eyes are following me” from the painting. She felt at once childish at the notion. It was just her imagination, she told herself. Choosing that as her explanation, she chose to pay it no need. Perhaps she was also, deep down inside, afraid to check.
Now young Ms. Reyes found herself in a study of sorts. Great mahogany bookcases lined every wall and were laden with leather-bound books. The carpet looked so soft, so luxurious, that she felt a nagging tug in the back of her brain to slip out of her shoes and feel it beneath her dainty bare feet.
As Paris ran her slender fingers over the spines of many books, she felt increasingly watched. Repeatedly, she looked over her shoulder to see if Olivia was playing a prank on her, but that was not Givens’s style. Not when Olivia was the one who hadn’t wanted to come in, especially.
“Liv?” Paris asked timidly. She received no answer. The young woman heard no footsteps, no breathing. She felt no sign of a living thing, but she still felt watched.
Reyes shrugged it off and chalked it up to nerves. She went back to scanning the shelves but stopped dead cold. Paris felt a hot breath right on the back of her neck. There was no way that was simply her imagination. She felt it again and was too afraid to move.
When the gentle blowing stopped, Paris slowly turned around. Her entire body was shaking. She sighed in relief when she was the only one in the study.
The poor girl tried to take a step forward to get out of there. The room dropped in temperature by the moment to the point where she could see her breathe. Her skin felt as if it was standing up on itself, her goosebumps were so intense.
Paris’s anxiety reached a new height when she found she could not move. As if neck-deep in tar, her whole body felt stuck in place. Her heartbeat was in her eyes, and she tried to scream. She tried to cry for help from dear Ms. Olivia, but no sound left her throat.
Instead of moving forward like she intended, the now wide-eyed Paris was slowly shuffling backwards, though her feet never left the floor. Something was pulling her.
She found herself pressed against the shelf she had just been investigating. Panic filled her entire being. She still could not move a single muscle, and a sense of impending dread became heavier.
Her fright reached a fever pitch when, due to no will of her own, her arms started to slowly raise. She watched in voiceless terror until they were both well above her head. Her entire frame rose off the floor by an inch.
She was levitating and petrified all at once. The frozen naive actress tried to scream. It was nothing more than a raspy squeal, like an old dusty dog toy.
Paris was completely alone. Helpless. The house trapped this woman in her own body, forcing her to watch what it was going to do to her.
Hands. Hands started slowly crawling out of the bookshelf to find her body heat. Rough, leathery, cold, and clammy hands the color of modeling clay groped her body.
The uncountable number of limbs palmed and groped every part of Paris’s young body. She could only float there, and panic as hands ran up and down her back, her belly, arms, legs, bottom, and breasts.
She heard tearing clothe, and her anxiety again reached a new record. Her eyes shot down, and she was just able to tilt her head far enough to see the bodiless hands tearing at her jeans, revealing more hot flesh for their searching fingers.
“No! No no no no!” Paris tried to scream a third time. But it was still just a whisper as the hands turned her designer jeans to shreds.
Once Paris’s jeans were even less than tatters, the hands were of a hive mind. They mostly focused on destroying her panties, ripping them apart thread by thread until she was completely bare from the waist down.
Meanwhile, the hands above her were tearing holes in her black tank top; ripping it to ribbons. The hands were ravenous, and in no way considerate. Her red bra stood as little chance as her shirt. And soon, the. flesh-starved entities exposed her whole body.
She was aware of every ghoulish finger that danced over her skin, every digit on her breasts, the palms on her nipples, the fingers and hands spreading her bottom apart. Paris was most aware of the fingers preparing her most sensitive hole for plundering.
Never in her life had Paris been more helpless, more vulnerable, and at the same time, more aroused. Though she didn’t want to be.
Paris tried again to scream a fourth time, expecting it to be fruitless. The hands didn’t cover her mouth to stop her, but many, many fingers flooded her mouth to keep her from doing more than groaning as others began the onslaught on her wet, hot sex.
The spirits of the house filled every hole the Filipino beauty had in short order. And she could do nothing.
Her body betrayed her as fingers went deeper inside of her, tearing orgasm after orgasm from the girl without mercy.
Little Paris came repeatedly. Her arousal ran down her legs to fall to the carpet. Her bottom had become home to three cold fingers. Paris’ core harbored four that ceaselessly moved in and out of her to the effect of continual rapture.
She could only take so much punishment before her eyes rolled back in her head and her body became limp as a boned fish. When she was completely unresponsive to the hands’ carnal tortures, they let her go. They receded back into the bookshelf, into the walls. The event left Paris with gaped holes, a drooling mouth, as well as a running pussy.
The forces in the room that night lowered her from the air. As if by magic, house carefully carried the lovely Ms. Reyes across the room to a velvety, red love seat by a royal fireplace that had lit itself.
The spirits allowed her to rest her used body. For now.
Meanwhile, on the second floor of the house, Ms. Olivia Givens was still exploring. And to this point, not harassed or molested in the slightest.
It was while rummaging through the cupboards of the stately, full kitchen, that something caught the energetic blonde’s attention. She saw something from the corner of her eye.
Not only did she find it weird to have a full kitchen on the second floor, but what looked like a puff of smoke confused her even more.
Olivia turned her body to see what she was seeing. Sure enough, there was a pale, grey-blue trail of smoke leading out of the kitchen.
Being braver than she was smart, she followed the thin waft of smoke through the hall and to where it ended. It had led her to a luxurious master bedroom.
Her eyes found the source of the trail; a full-bodied apparition of a man. His form was the same smoke that led Olivia there.
The gravity of the situation finally struck the young actress. “Holy shit! You’re a ghost.”
The body of smoke slowly rose from the chair. He solidified more, taking on a physical being of sorts. Quite the specimen of a phantom.
Olivia was somewhere between terrified and hysterically giddy as the specter bowed low to her at the waist. She felt oddly drawn to the thing, her feet seeming to pull herself forward of their own will.
Though terrified, Olivia couldn’t help but to reach out a shaking finger and touch the shadowy figure.
As soon as she touched it, she squealed. It shot Olivia through the room to land face-down on the fluffy bed. She tried to push herself up, but the spirit–this thing– knocked her arms out from under her.
“What the fuck?” she protested. The stupor from just a moment ago had worn off.
Something she couldn’t see, but could feel, pinned her arms to the bed.
“Paris!” she called for her friend, whom she had not seen for some time. “Paris, please!” Olivia cried indignantly. She petulantly kicked her feet until it pinned her ankles, too. “Help me, please!” Olivia continued to cry out.
She heard footsteps, madly dashing through the mansion. Then a naked Reyes flew into vision. “Liv?” Paris asked, terrified that her friend was to suffer a fate she just had.
“Paris! I can’t move!” Olivia moaned, pleading with her eyes for her friend to do something.
Paris tried to make a move towards her friend. Before she could do anything, an unseen force aggressively tossed her through the air. She landed squarely onto a thickly padded love seat that would have been quite welcoming under any other circumstances.
“Paris?” Olivia tried again. She felt something stretching her arms above her head and away from her sides.
“Paris!” Olivia did not know what to do other than cry for her friend. Her friend, at that moment, was also rendered useless by an unseen foe.
“Wha… what’s happening?” Olivia frantically asked as she felt fingers. Or was it claws? Whatever they were, they slowly dragged across her back. “Paris, what’s happening?”
“I don’t know! You’re the only thing on the bed!” Paris shouted back. She was terrified for her friend.
“Horseshit I’m the only thing on the bed! Something is fucking touching me!” Olivia screamed. She could unmistakably feel a large, monstrous hand palming her tight ass. One cheek after another. Like it was inspecting her.
“Something’s touching me, too!” Paris shouted back. The same hands as earlier rose up to start assaulting her body.
“Not again, please not again!” Paris shook and cried as cold, ashen hands explored her body. “Please stop!”
“Paris!” Liv shouted out of worry for her friend this time. But worry for herself returned when she felt obvious weight straddling her hips. Again, she could see nothing.
Olivia could feel claws ripping away the clothes from her tanned skin. Seam by seam until she was just as naked as Paris. She could not see how Paris was fairing. All she could hear was sobbing and gagging.
Of course, this was exactly what had befallen young Ms. Reyes. The shadowy creature that had lured Olivia to the bed chamber had returned and stood in front of Paris.
Paris could not defend herself. Hands held her down, hands holding her mouth wide open. Fingers filled her slit and her asshole alike.
With mouth wide open and her head completely immobilized, Paris was completely powerless to resist the hard, massive, veined ebony phallus that inevitably made its way to her.
Without consent, with no asking, the massive tip slid over Paris’s tongue until it touched the absolute back of her throat.
Olivia could only wince as she heard her best friend choking, but on what she did not see, what she was afraid to see.
She knew that soon, being stripped and completely stuck as she was, it would soon be her turn.
Paris was still being accosted when Olivia felt hands roughly grip her naked hips. “No! Stop! Don’t!” Olivia screamed to no effect. The forces brought her ass up, and positioned her on her knees. Her chest and face were still on the bed.
The curvy young blonde gasped as she felt the largest, wettest forked tongue lap at her from slit to tailbone in a single go.
“Shit!” Olivia growled through gritted teeth. She knew that she was NOT supposed to like that! However….
The tongue increased speed and licked her all over hungrily, shamelessly, hitting her perfectly hairless and smooth mound to over her rosebud. There was no way this tongue was natural, and there was nothing natural about how absolutely wet it made her. It was like its sole purpose was sapping Olivia of her precious girl cum.
While Olivia was begrudgingly enjoying her sentencing for trespassing, Paris was finally able to breathe again. The shadow figure removed his pulsing unit from her throat.
Paris sputtered and coughed. She couldn’t even wipe the saliva and thick, viscous pre-cum from her face. The golden-skinned actress couldn’t even dry her own tears. She thanked the forces, though, when all the hands that had been on her body released her.
She was less thankful when she was catapulted across the room to share the bed with Olivia.
As soon as Paris hit the bed, the ghouls rolled Olivia onto her back. They pushed apart both pairs of legs.
“Oh, what now?” Paris moaned, wondering what else this house could do to her. A pair of shadow figures materializing on the bed in front of both girls answered her question.
“Oh, fuck me,” Olivia groaned. She dropped her head to the soft mattress beneath her. There was nothing she could do but submit to her fate.
“Watch what you say,” Paris warned. She tried to scoot further back on the bed, aware of how endowed their ghoulish assailants were.
Olivia was about to ask what Paris meant, but she stopped. Her eyes widened as their tormentors began to sprout between their legs. It was exactly what Paris was afraid of.
“Oh, hell no,” Olivia shouted. She started shaking her head. The small blonde tried to crawl back, but she and Paris were both pulled towards the figures.
“No! No!” Paris cried, gripping the sheets as if it would hold her in place. It was no use. Both girls’ legs were still spread wide open. Midnight-black cocks skewered them, sealing their fates.
Paris and Olivia took each other’s hands in solidarity. Muscled beasts railed into them, giving no quarter. No mercy. They had speed and stamina that was not possible in humans.
Granite-hard lengths rocked the girls within inches of their lives. The beasts seemed to possess superhuman hips with an intensity that made the girls feel like they were on rodeo bull Sybians.
Both Ms. Reyes and Givens were treated to orgasm after orgasm. The small treasures were squirting like they never had before. Their innards were rearranged more times than they ever had and never would again.
Finally, the beasts began to growl and howl as they tensed. Their impeccable physiques took even sharper curves. They both erupted in hot, sludgy geysers that worked as a sappy, sleeping serum.
—
Olivia and Paris woke with the rising of the sun the next morning. They felt better rested than they ever had. The soft, luxurious ruby-red robes each of them wore were new.
They did not remember all that befell them on that Halloween night. Their phones were completely wiped of footage. For the life of them, they had no idea why they were both nude under their robes.
All they did know, was that neither of them would ever step foot in McAfree House again. And nor did they notice that oil portraits of them graced the walls along the staircase. Right next to the portraits of the girls that visited before them.