Submit to the Supernatural

by Powerone

  Her body suddenly collapsed on the bed. Her muscles were like jelly, unable to move. Her legs were spread wide; her pussy felt like a cock was still inside her. She felt a puddle of cum beneath her. She couldn’t move, barely able to breathe. She felt the emptiness in the room. It was gone. It had taken the pleasure of her virginal body and left her. It was twenty minutes before she could get up. She took the bedspread and threw it into the washer, having enough time to get it washed and dried before her father came home. She’d never be able to explain to anyone how she’d lost her virginity. She took a hot bath and wondered if it were possible to get pregnant from an apparition. It was too late to do anything about it. She put the bedspread in the dryer and waited for it to finish as she cleaned her father’s bedroom. That would be the last time she would use it to punish him. She no longer felt the need to do it. She was a woman now, just like her mother. She could deal with anything the world could come up with after this night.

  At least she thought she could. She couldn’t know that it was just the beginning. There would be much more to contend with in the future. This was her destiny. She’d be the link to the past for some people. If she only knew the connection would always be sexual.

  * * *

  “Good morning, Dad.” She poured coffee in a cup on the table when her father came in.

  He was pleasantly surprised when Faith had breakfast for him as he walked in the door. She’d never done that before. They had grown further apart as she grew older, unable to reach her. “Thank you,” he put his coat down and sat in the chair. He didn’t say anything to her. He relished the moment and hoped it would continue.

  Faith cleaned up the dishes after her father ate. She finished when he walked in.

  “How come you washed my bedspread?” He could tell immediately when he went in that it was clean. What did she do that made her clean it? Did she have a boy in the house? Did they do something on my bed?

  “You’re getting old, Dad. Your sheets are clean each week, but you haven’t washed that bedspread for months. I couldn’t stand to walk by your room and see it and smell it. I think you’ll like your bed much better now.” She smiled as she walked off. That and she wouldn’t cum on it any more.

  She was probably right. He was starting to notice an odor in his room, but he wasn’t sure where it was coming from. The room smelled sweet and fresh now. “Thank you,” he said, but she already walked off down the hallway.

  Chapter 3

  Her Career

  Her father tried to get her to go to college and major in business, or at least something that she could earn a living at, but she had made up her mind last year, the night she lost her virginity. Not many girls could say that they decided on their future job when they were fucked for the first time, at least any girl that wasn’t going to become a prostitute.

  “I’m going to take some college courses but at the community college, Dad.” This argument had gone on for months since she told her father that she wanted to be a spirit medium. Not exactly like her mother, for Faith knew she had more talent than her mother did. Not only could she connect with the supernatural beings, she could see them, though she never told anyone that, not even her father.

  “What are you going to take, Ghosts 101?” he joked, but he was serious. This was not the way to make a living.

  “Journalism, I want to write about what I do. Trust me, Dad. I’m good at this. Better than Mom.” It was the first time she mentioned her mother to him. It was almost a taboo subject between them.

  He knew better than to try to convince her to change. He tried it with her mother and look how that worked out. It only drove her to another man’s arms. “Okay, but if it doesn’t work out, you’ll try something else?”

  “Yes, but I know I can be good at this.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks, Dad.”

  * * *

  Taking the journalism classes was the easy part. She found that she enjoyed them, and she was good at it. She was surprised each time she wrote a story, rereading it, not believing the words came out of her head. She began to write short stories and post them on Internet sites. She found that others liked her stories as much as she did.

  Learning about the occult was easy; there were thousands of books written by unknown writers. Most of them were fakes, writing the book was all about making money, not imparting wisdom. Faith could pick out the small number of books where the author actually knew what they were talking about. She studied them. Learning firsthand to be a spirit medium proved more difficult. Like the writers, most of them were fakes.

  It took years, but she gradually began to make headway. It was more her writing ability that got her noticed. It started small, gaining a reputation in the small town she lived in, but the word spread throughout the state. Before long, she was asked to speak to groups. She had a blog that was followed by thousands, finally getting her own website. It was here that Tyler found her. He followed her for almost a year before he contacted her.

  Faith was impressed that Tyler came to see her. A real literary agent wanted to talk to her. She had learned that most agents talked a good game but few delivered what they promised. Tyler was different, promising little but delivering big time. It started out with small articles for magazines. Not necessarily magazines on the occult but mainstream magazines. He even taught her how to get her stories and articles noticed. He was the one that got her to make her stories sexier and more tantalizing. Sex sold, he told her so many times that she finally got it.

  It was a short article in Playhouse that made her career move like a shooting star. It found just the right audience—those that believed there were spirits but would never admit it. With just the right amount of juicy sex, it became the talk of the watercooler. This is where Tyler shined. He got Playhouse magazine to give her a complete article, more followed until she was finally hired as a staff writer. Her last article had made her a household name, at least with those that read Playhouse magazine.

  * * *

  The box of articles arrived, and she spread the articles around that Tyler had sent her. She began to go through them, spanning over 60 years of history. Tyler was right; Boldage Manor was ripe for a story. The previous owner, Michael, had an untimely death at fifty, shot by a father that blamed him for the sexual demise of his teenage daughter. It was later found to be untrue, but it was too late for Michael or for the jailed father.

  Michael left a wife, twenty years old at the time. She disappeared shortly after his death while the rage was still running high from the father’s accusations. Even when it died down, she never returned, a high-priced lawyer out of St. Louis took care of the estate in New York. They never did much with it; the notoriety attracted the usual kooks, but even they died away after a few years. It was rented out, but the rumors and legends of the strange happening of the past occupants made it increasingly hard as the years went by. It hadn’t been occupied for over four years now.

  Michael was known for his decadent parties in the late forties, early nineteen fifties. He had money, as well as his friends, so he attracted women that were looking for money or at least be connected to it. He used it to his advantage, luring unsuspecting women to where alcohol and drugs flowed freely. There, the innocent women found his unquestionable love for bondage and S&M and that of his male friends. Some never returned after one night of depraved sex, others came back for more and some were never seen again. The parties never ended until his untimely death.

  Faith called Tyler. He picked up on the first ring. “Hanging by the phone for my call?”

  “I knew it wouldn’t take you long. This place has everything you like, and I hope you’ll find more. I’d love to hear if you find Michael or, better yet, he finds you.”

  Faith knew that Tyler was conjuring up images of her naked and Michael doing depraved and degrading sexual acts with her. She almost wished the same thing. It had been years since she had a steady man in her bed, her writing and research consumed her life. The thought of a supernatu
ral being taking her excited her as it always did; she never had the ability to say no to whatever was demanded of her. This story had so much more to it, bondage and S&M. She had often been paralyzed by an apparition but had never actually been physically incapacitated with rope or other means. This house had forty rooms that hadn’t been explored for decades, Faith was sure to find some secret rooms where Michael had taken his prey. She would find out firsthand what he did to them. “You’d be jealous of him,” she teased him.

  “Of course I would be, uncovering all of the pent-up sexual demands in that lovely body of yours. What man wouldn’t?” Tyler’s cock was so damn hard at the thought of Faith, but he knew he had little chance with her. They were more business than pleasure friends, but it would almost be worth giving up the business for one night of depravity with Faith.

  “Back to business, Tyler. I’ll do it; I’d be crazy if I didn’t. I’ll stay there for thirty days; make sure the main living area is cleaned before I get there. I’m not a maid. I’m sure I can get food and supplies in town.”

  “It’s being cleaned as we speak. Your thirty days starts the day after tomorrow. A couple of things. The place is in a state of disrepair, so you will barely have the basics. Water is okay for bathing and cooking as long as you boil it, but you’ll need bottled water to drink. It has electricity, but it is out there in the woods, so it could be sporadic at best, but there will be lots of candles. You can explore anywhere in the house but be careful. It’s old and rotted. I don’t want you to get hurt, unless you want to.” His mind went back to the S&M.

  “I can take care of myself, Tyler. You know me, self-sufficient. The lack of the necessities only makes it spookier. There is nothing like candles flickering to draw out an apparition, though I think my forties and fifties clothes might do it.” Faith got deep into the part when she did things like this, fully immersing herself into the time period and the setting.

  “You in garter belt and nylons and nothing else would bring back the dead that is for sure.” Then, he remembered the last thing. “Cell phones are pretty useless out there. I am trying to get you a phone installed, but this is upstate New York in the country. It will probably be put in the day you leave. Are you going to be okay with that?”

  “Most of the people that I’d want to communicate with don’t have cell phones or even speak. I’ll go into town once a week and call you so you don’t worry.”

  “Thanks, I don’t want to lose my best client.”

  “Or the ten percent. Good night, Tyler. I’ll talk to you next week.”

  “Good luck, bring back a great story.” He hung up, wishing he was going or at least could see what happened in the background without Faith knowing. He never truly knew whether Faith really had sex with apparitions, though it always fed his vivid imagination. What would it look like?

  Chapter 4

  First-Time Visit

  It was a four-hour drive, but the weather was good. The cold was coming, but it was late fall when the sky was clear and the weather was crisp. Most of the trees had shed their leaves. Luckily, she ate breakfast before she left, not much on Highway 4 for the last hour. Faith checked her gas gauge, more than enough. She felt better when she saw the sign. “Lake Hampton, 10 miles.” That was the closest town to Boldage Manor, if you could even call it a town. She read the brief facts–four hundred people during the summer, probably not more than one hundred during the winter. The downtown consisted of the general store, gas station, Lake Hampton Diner and Bar and, last but not least, the American Legion Hall.

  Her Mustang pulled up to the pumps, surprised when she heard a bell. Before she could get out to pump her gas, a man stood next to her.

  “Afternoon, Ms. Deva. How can I help you?” He looked her up and down. He knew who she was immediately, though he hadn’t expected her to be this beautiful or young. He always thought writers to be old and stodgy. This one was neither.

  She was taken back for a moment when she heard her name, but this was a small town, a very small town. Everyone knew everyone’s business. A writer renting Boldage Manor was big news, probably the biggest this decade. “Faith.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “My first name is Faith. Fill it up.”

  “Sorry, thought you were asking my religion. Nice car.” He began to put gas in the red Mustang. “Bill’s my name if you need anything. Open until six each night, closed on Sunday, so make sure your tank is always filled.”

  Faith got out of the car and looked around, the town consisting of the four corners. The gas station was on one side, the general store on the same side of the main street. The diner and bar across the street with the American Legion Hall on the opposite corner, not bigger than a small storage unit. The flagpole that flew the American flag was almost bigger than the building.

  “Forty even, Faith.” She put two twenties in his hand. He liked cash, not having to pay the credit card companies. “Thank you. Enjoy your stay.” He thought it was a waste of time for her; the Boldage Manor was just an old relic now. The legends were the only thing that kept it alive.

  “You lived here long, Bill?”

  “Going on twenty years. I like fishing, so this is my retirement. I wasn’t around in the fifties.” He knew what she was going to ask next.

  “Too bad. Is the food at the diner good?”

  “Mabel’s a great cook. Good bartender, too.” He stared at her long legs as she got into the Mustang. There is nothing like that around here. Hope she drives a lot and needs gas often. This was the first time that his cock had been hard in a while, a long while.

  She pulled into the diner first; her stomach had started to groan. She would hit the general store next to stock up on food. She got out of the car; Bill still stared across the street at her. Horny old man, she thought as she laughed to herself. There would be lots of them around here like that. She walked into the diner, the smell of food wafted out the door. If the smell was any indication, the food was good. There were three tables and four booths besides the bar at the other end. The bar had ten stools with eight booths scattered around five tables. You could see where they made the money here. It was only lunchtime, but there were five men at the bar nursing beers or drinks. All eyes were on her; Faith almost felt self-conscious as she walked in. She wore a short skirt, swaying her hips exaggeratedly to give them a thrill. None of their eyes moved off her ass until she sat down at the counter. The waitress came over.

  “What’s good, Mabel? I’m starving.” She had to be Mabel; the place couldn’t afford two waitresses. She was middle-aged, so she probably owned it.

  Mabel smiled, liking a girl that was smart. She had been getting gas. Bill probably gave her my name. “You want to protect that sexy ass, Faith, or you want to fatten it up.”

  “They’d be disappointed if my ass got fat,” Faith pointed her head toward the men that still stared at her.

  “They have wives. You’re for looking. I have a great Caesar salad with chicken. I just cooked the chicken, so it should still be warm and moist.”

  “That sounds great and a diet Coke with it.”

  “I’ll be back in a minute.” She brought the drink back and set it down. Faith already looked through the newspaper she brought in.

  It took only a couple of minutes before the salad was in front of her. Just as Mabel said, the chicken was still warm. It had just the right amount of dressing, though Faith forgot to tell her to forget the croutons, Faith didn’t need the calories for something that was tasteless. “Thanks,” but Mabel was already off. It must be the lunch crowd; three customers were at the counter now. Mabel didn’t bother her but refilled her drink without asking. Faith gobbled the salad down, hungrier than she thought. She saw the men out of the corner of her eyes still staring at her. Not much goes on in this town.

  The bill was in front of her when she put the newspaper away and Faith left a twenty-percent tip. “Thanks, Mabel. It was great.”

  Mabel smiled when she saw the tip. “Thanks; stop in again.
You have a way of perking up business.” She nodded to the bar, seven men nursed drinks, all of them stared at Faith. “Dinner specials start at four every day if you get too lonely out there. Sunday we’re closed.”

  “I’ll be back.” She swayed her ass one last time when she walked out the door. Deep down, Faith always thought she was a bit of an exhibitionist, though at other times, she didn’t know if she had enough nerve. She got into the car and drove to the other corner, stopping in front of the general store. It wasn’t much bigger than a 7-Eleven store. She hoped that it was well stocked. She opened the wooden door; the bell over the door rang. Sure enough, the man behind the counter came into sight, an apron around his waist. Faith looked around, a high school boy stocked the shelves, but he’d stopped the minute she walked in the door.

  “Afternoon, Faith. What can I help you with?” James had seen her pull into the gas station almost an hour ago, knowing his turn would be soon. “I’m James, that’s my delivery and stock boy, Jesse.”

  Faith looked around and noticed that at least she wouldn’t be denied good food. She loved to cook and the store had a good selection of the basics. It had fresh meat and a delicatessen, Faith wouldn’t be deprived of red meat. She was surprised at the selection of fresh vegetables and fruit, though it looked to be local and what was in season. There were no vegetables imported from South America. She took a small basket, just to pick up the things she would need for today. “Do you deliver?”

  “Anything you want. If I don’t have it in stock, I can get it in a day. Jesse will drop it off at the Boldage Manor for you. No extra charge.” He handed her a pad and pencil. “Write down what you want.”

  Faith was in a hurry to get to Boldage Manor before it got dark. She remembered the warning about the electricity and wanted to explore the main living area before the sun went down. James was helpful, just like the rest of the people that she met, and Jesse was like the other men, his gaze never strayed far from her legs or ass. This must be one horny town, Faith laughed to herself. If she thought her sex life was bad, theirs must be nonexistent.