A Summer Hole Story

»Jackpot!«, Liz sarcastically muttered when she entered the small front garden of the plain abandoned townhouse. Elisabeth »Liz« Thorpe knew that, being the new woman at the »London Inquirer«, she would not get the top stories and interviews at once. But after all, she had received best marks at university and already volunteered at some newspapers that had a way better reputation than the »L I«, and so, she had expected to get a better job than to do a report about an allegedly haunted house in the suburbs of the city. A typical theme to fill the Summer Hole!

To make things worse, the said house didn’t look the least frightening. Of course, it looked a bit shabby, but there were no clapping windshields, no cracks in the walls and no moving curtains. It just looked as if with a few buckets of paint, it could be turned into every philistine’s dream.

The owner, a Mr. Clampton, had been a letdown, too. Liz had hoped that she could present him as a mysterious Crypt Keeper, but the man had been all too plain and the only thing creepy about him had been his obvious interest in looking at Liz’s forms.

The 23 years old Liz actually didn’t consider herself as gorgeous, but she knew also that she was quite a sight. Being just 5’1’’ and rather buxom, she had long auburn hair woven to a bun and lovely green eyes. However, Mr. Clampton had not been interested in her eyes or her charming smile that much. Liz was sure that he had deliberately dropped the key to the house when handing it to her, just to get a glimpse of her cleavage.

»Maybe, it’s his lewd thoughts that haunt the house«, Liz had thought when she had finally left his house and walked the two streets towards the haunted house. Mr. Clampton had not told her much about it, he had just mentioned that no one had dared to spend more than one night in it so far. Liz was sure that he had only called the newspaper to get some publicity. Maybe, he had even prepared a few booby traps or some hidden wires to put up a ghost show. Well, if Liz could proof that, the old billy-goat would get publicity, albeit not the one he expected.

Before she turned the key, Liz checked her appearance once more and refreshed her makeup. She had chosen a white blouse and a knee-length black skirt for the job, combined with black silk stockings and not-too-high stilettos. This, combined with a coloured silk scarf, made her look like a secretary, but Liz had decided to appear business-like. However, as usual, she was wearing her black garter belt, well hidden under her skirt. It made her feel a bit kinky and besides, it matched her black lacy bra and panties.

»If these ghosts can see through my clothes, they shall get something for their money!«, she had decided earlier.

Now, she entered the house and again, it just looked like nothing more than an abandoned house. However, she gasped when the door suddenly closed behind her and she felt a cold gush of wind underneath her skirt, slightly moving the hem.

»You naughty, naughty ghost!«, she said, jokingly, but a bit louder than necessary. Liz didn’t believe in ghosts, but sometimes, for example when she had to walk a foggy alley in the dark, she repeated the fact that she was not superstitious almost like a mantra – as if the ghosts would appear the very moment she was lacking defence.

Liz slowly walked the stairs to the second floor. There was nothing, but suddenly, she felt viewed.

»Of course, this old bastard must have installed a camera! Maybe, he’s just rubbing his crotch whilst I am walking around here!«

She looked around to find the hidden camera when suddenly, her scarf got entangled in a protruding nail and was torn from her neck. Liz laughed – or, more accurately, she giggled a bit nervously – and reached for the cloth, but there seemed to be a draught, for it flew away and landed on the door to the adjacent room.

»Hey, ghosts, what’s that? Are you trying to strip me?«

Liz looked inside and now, she wasn’t sure whether she should laugh or feel insulted. The room was dominated by an old iron bed, complete with not only a mattress, but also silk bedsheets. In contrast to the rest of the room, it did not look shabby or dusty, but instead as if it had just been prepared.

»So, Mr. Clampton, do you expect me to lie down and play with myself?«, she thought. Then, something touched her cheek and this time, she knew that she had shrieked from surprise. With disbelief, Liz touched her cheek. Of course, it had only been the wind, but it had felt like – a kiss. An ice cold, but nevertheless tender kiss.

When she stepped closer to the bed, she felt another cold breeze and shivering, she felt her nipples erect from the cold – or was it from excitement? Liz scolded herself and blushed slightly when she looked down at her boobs. Now, Mr. Clampton would sure get excited in front of his observation screen.

»Ouch!«

The cold breeze around her breasts had become more intense and suddenly, something had pinched one of her nipples. Liz spun around, trying to find whatever gimmick had done this to her, but the room was empty. She looked for wires, hidden remote controls and things like that, but there was nothing inside the room but the bed and her. And some invisible presence watching her.

»Okay, Liz, calm down, take a few photos and then continue your search! At least, you can now spice up your report with some of your impressions!«, Liz said to herself and tossed her satchel onto the bed.

Obviously, she had been too hasty, for the leather bag slid from the smooth sheet and landed on the floor. Laughing about her clumsiness, she bent down. Now, something touched her exposed butt.

»Hey!«

Liz spun around and jumped for the door, but when she just reached it, it fell shut. Liz almost knocked her head and frantically, she tried to open it. The door was blocked. Not as if it was just old, but as if someone was leaning against it from the other side. Then, she heard a key turn in the keyhole.

»Okay, Mr. Clampton, this ain’t funny anymore! Open the door or I will call the Police!«

Liz hated how shrill her voice had become and forced herself to calm down. She waited for a minute, then, she repeated her reclaim. There was no answer and so, Liz decided to end this silly game one and for all.

»All right, Mister, now, I will call the Police!«

She turned around to get her mobile from her satchel – only to see it had vanished. Increasingly nervous, she looked under the bed and between the sheets. Nothing.

»Okay, Mr. Clampton, you win! I have to admit that this house is really spooky! But now, let me out here – please!«

There was no answer, but now, she once again felt that cold touch and the first button of her blouse sprang open. Liz shrieked and looked around, but again, there was no one!

»The window!«, she thought with upcoming panic. It was only three yards away and the bright sunlight came in from the outside. Liz jumped to it and frantically tried to open it. She had expected to be trapped, but to her surprise, the window did not block at all. It was an old fashioned model that had to be pushed upwards, and Liz sighed with relief when she felt it slide open. There, some three yards under her, was a lawn that had not been mowed for months. She just had to jump and would be save, having lost nothing but her dignity.

When Liz leaned forward, she felt again something touch her butt. Reflexively, she spun around. Perhaps, she had touched the window in the progress, for it slammed down and the frame heavily hit her head. Liz ached from pain, then, everything went black.

***

»Mhhmm?«

When she regained her consciousness, Liz found that she was still inside the room, lying on the bed. she tried to move but found out that she couldn’t and when she tried to lick her lips, she felt that something was blocking her tongue.

»Mmhhmmmph!«

Now, Liz fully came back to life. She was not just lying on the bed, she had been tied to it. Her wrists and ankles had been fixed to the bed posts. Liz tried to scream, but she felt that her mouth had been stuffed with something. Something that tasted vile and was held in place by a cloth that had been tied between her lips so tight it cut into the corners of her mouth.

When Liz saw a moving figure above her, she let out a muffled cry, but it was just her own reflection in a mirror fixed to the ceiling, right above the bed. However, the sight did little to make Liz feel relaxed.

Whoever had tied her to the bed, had stripped her stark naked before. Liz fought her bonds and screamed through her gag, but to no avail. When exhaustion forced her to pause, she examined her bonds and found out that her own clothes had been used to tie her up.

Her wrists had been tied with her silk stockings whilst her legs had been bound to the lower bed posts with the torn sleeves of her blouse. The cloth cleaving her lips was her own scarf and when she explored the gag stuffing her mouth, she found out that it was her own panties.

»Mmhrrrmmmm! Uuhhmmm! Mph!«

Again, Liz screamed, but somehow, she just hoped that this was the perverse work of Mr. Clampton. More than getting out of this nightmare, Liz wanted to have a reasonable explanation for this. Instead, she felt something cold on her breasts.

»Uuuuhhmmmm! Mmhhrrrrrmmm!«

Liz squirmed on the bed and when she reared up, it felt as if cold hands were squeezing her boobs and massaging them. In the mirror, she could see how they were moved and kneaded by something – someone? – invisible.

»Nnnggg! Mmhhmmph!«

The cold caress continued and now, she felt some cold tingling between her legs, too. When she closed her eyes, it felt exactly as if someone cupped her pubic mound with a very soft, very cold hand. But when she opened her eyes again, there was nothing but herself.

Liz`s brain desperately looked for any straw that would allow her to avoid the obvious explanation: she was about to be raped by a ghost.

»Mmhhrrrmmm! Uuuhhmmmmm! Mmhhmmmmmm! Mph!«

The invisible being continued to caress her and suddenly, she felt something like a finger push inside her. Whatever this was, it seemed to become more and more material the longer the game went on. Liz now just hoped she would faint and then wake up in her bed, but more and more, she was accepting the terrible truth.

»Ooouuhhmmm!«

Liz reared up when something ice cold touched her most sensitive spot. It hurt – for about a second. Then, Liz felt waves of pleasure stray all through her womb and a well-known warmth, feeling even more intense in contrast to the cold touch, began to build up within her.

»No, I must fight this, I – oooohhh!«

Liz closed her eyes and now, she could see a tall man in front of her inner eye. She could feel him shift his position, put his cold hands under her buttocks and lift her from the mattress a bit. Then, his head pushed forward and when she felt his cold lips pluck on her labia, Liz panted and gasped from anticipation more than from fear. When the ghost pushed his ice cold tongue deep inside her, Liz groaned and pressed her slippery flesh against him.

»Jackpot!«, was her last coherent thought for a very long time. Maybe, this ghost had come from hell, but he definitely was able to show her heaven, again and again.

The End