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The Haunting of Heather 1

 

The Haunting of Heather Ch.1
by pussy Kat
Couture@literotica.org

(F/Ghost, mast, MF)

Please do not read if under 18 years of age or
offended by sexually explicit stories and situations.

Hi, my name is pussy Kat, and this story is my brief
autobiography. Yes, that is my legal name now, but it
wasn't always so. You see, before my new life began
my name used to be Heather Longly and I was employed
as an Account Rep at Baum and Denslow. It was there I
met Bill, a very handsome and very married co-worker.
We were always friendly and then one day I was
assigned to a special project with Bill. He began a
little harmless flirting with me, and soon we were
both playing a twisted game of tennis in our
flirtations, batting touches and plays on words and
lustful looks, instead of bright green balls.

What was the harm? He was married and unavailable and
I didn't date co-workers. I should have stopped it
right there, but I grew to like him as a friend and
eventually we started taking our lunches together.

It was during one of these lunches that I began to
learn of his loveless marriage, to a wife who strayed
to extremes in personality. According to Bill, she
would be almost manic in her need to control him both
emotionally and sexually.

I could understand emotional control, because I had
used it a time or two to get what I wanted at work.
However, I couldn't understand how a woman could
sexually control a man, so I asked Bill about it and
he just blushed and said, he didn't want to talk about
it.

Bill said he had tried to leave her before, but she
had threatened to kill herself. He never tried to
leave again, but another wedge had been driven into
their relationship. He had even stopped having sex
with her, because he was afraid to bring a child into
that kind of environment. Besides, he didn't really
consider it making love, but rather being forced to do
uncomfortable things for her pleasure.

That was enough to make me admire his compassion and
dedication tremendously. I felt compelled to tell him
of my dreams, of becoming a writer; something that
others I had told only scoffed at or dismissed as
flights of fancy. However, Bill actually listened.

Bill continued to flirt playfully with me, but I no
longer could respond with my quick comebacks. "Cat
got your tongue?" he would say.

I could only blush in response.

Then one day as we were leaving to go home, Bill
offered to walk me to my car. As I opened my door, I
felt his hand on my shoulder. I turned around to see
him looking deeply into my eyes.

"Heather, I think I love you," he said, as he leaned
in to kiss me.

I knew it was wrong, but I melted in his embrace. Our
tongues danced, and I felt his hardness press against
my belly. A battle of little voices raged in my head.
Why does he have to be married? Come on, you are so
hot, people do this all the time. What about the
consequences? What will it hurt? He doesn't love
her. She will find out and you will get in trouble.

I love him.

"Let's go to my place," I said, still not believing
the words had come out of my mouth.

I had never done anything so bold before, but I knew I
had to have him. On the way there, I was so scared my
voice trembled as I gave him directions to my
apartment. We were both silent as we rode the
elevator up to my apartment.

"I don't know what to say Bill, I've never done
anything like this before," I said, fumbling with my
keys, as I tried to unlock my door.

"Neither have I," he said.

As soon as we entered the apartment and the door was
closed, Bill pushed me against the door and kissed me.
He rubbed his hands all over my body, disrobing me as
he went. I tried to grind my hot sex against his
hardness, but he stopped me.

"Please, we can't leave any evidence," he said, as he
took his clothes off and folded them neatly on the
chair. He laid me down on the couch, then made love
to me. As he thrust into me, I could feel him
stiffen. I hugged him close with my arms and legs, as
I felt him twitch inside me with release.

He kissed me and hugged me after his climax. Too
soon, he stood up and took the condom off, tying it in
a knot and leaving it on the coffee table. He looked
at me laying naked as he dressed. I laid there naked,
trying to look sexy, because a part of me wanted him
to stay, though I knew he couldn't.

"Sorry, Heather, but I have to go home. At least for
now," he said. I looked into his eyes and could see
the regret written in the lines of his face. I got up
and gave him a chaste kiss as he left out the door.

Yes Bill, your wife has a piece of paper, but I have
you, I thought, as I felt the weight of his condom,
before throwing it away.

This went on for the rest of October, until Halloween
night. Then disaster struck at the Halloween party at
work. He had come dressed as the Cowardly Lion and
his wife Olivia had come dressed as a witch. I was a
little jealous, because she was still pretty even in
her black pointy hat and cape. Her skirt was long
and black and hugged her narrow waist tightly, but
what really made the outfit, were the tall high heels
and black opera gloves.

Fortunately, I was prepared for anything she had to
dish out. I was wearing a black cat costume that Bill
had helped me pick out. The costume itself was quite
simple, consisting of only a form fitting black body
stocking, attached tail, and a hair-band with two
furry ears attached. It body suit covered me
completely, but displayed every curve of my body. I
had never worn anything like that before, especially
around people at work. I had always been a rather shy
girl, but I kept my body in shape and actually was
glad to be wearing the cute costume, when I saw Bill's
wife.

At the time, I felt so superior to her. At the end of
the night, I was sure Bill would remember her as the
evil witch bitch and me as the cute sweet little
kitten.

However, knowing she was there, made Bill and me
uneasy. We drank way more than we should have.
However, while his wife was occupied talking with some
other women, Bill caught my eye and motioned for me to
follow him.

He took me away from the party and into one of unused
offices. "You looked so sexy tonight I just had to
see you," he said pressing his body close to mine.

"We shouldn't do this," I protested, but I was already
kissing him. I could feel my nipples harden with
arousal, by the very danger of the situation. It was
then that disaster struck. I will never forget the
rage and betrayal on Olivia's face, when she turned on
the light.

"You are not to come home tonight bastard, stay with
your . . . " she sneered, looking at me as if I were
trash. " . . .Pussy." she finished.

Her truth of bitter comments stung me deep inside.
What on earth possessed me to wear this costume?
Suddenly, I didn't feel so sexy anymore. I felt like
a common whore and I looked like one too. I took off
my furry little cat ears, but the tail was sewn to the
suit. It followed me around, drawing attention to my
bottom with every step. As if to say, look everyone,
look at the ass of the mistress.

I went home alone and Bill spent the night in a motel.
The next morning at work, he had entered my cubicle
with tears in his eyes. "She killed herself last
night," he sobbed.

"Dear god, what happened?" I asked, my body suddenly
going numb.

"She slit her wrists in the bathtub," he cried, his
face red as tears fell down his face. "The maid found
her this morning."

I hugged him and he wept on my shoulder. I began to
cry too, remembering the look she had given me the
night before. It was as though she saw through all
the civility and manners I hid behind, and saw the
slut that was sleeping with her husband.

They held her funeral two days later. I didn't
attend. How could I have looked at her, knowing that
I had been responsible for her death.

Bill and I couldn't didn't talk after that. It was
our dirty secret, a secret we couldn't share with
anyone, not even each other. I tried to avoid places
I might see him, because looking at him brought back
memories. Memories I tried to forget.

It was then, that things started to happen. Things
would disappear, then reappear where I had just
looked. I started to hear strange noises in my
apartment, like doors opening and closing. When I
dreamed, it was of Olivia glaring at me or bleeding to
death in her bathtub.

My work began to suffer. I was chronically late,
because my alarm clock wouldn't go off or my keys
would be misplaced. My toothbrush would taste
horrible, I suspected maybe someone was doing
something to it while I was at work, so I tried
putting it in a plastic bags and hiding underneath the
towels. However, when I took it out, I noticed that
it was blue, just like the toilet water. Finally, I
bought a bunch, kept them in my purse, and threw it
away after using it.

One night, after a particularly long day at work, I
fixed myself a glass of wine and prepared to unwind
with a luxurious bath. I ran a bath, complete with
bubbles, candles and soft music. I took off my
clothes, and stepped into the wonderfully hot water.

I relaxed in the tub dozing lightly. Suddenly I awoke
with a start. The bathroom and water felt freezing
cold. Chill bumps covered my breasts. I could see my
breath as I exhaled. I pulled the drain plug, then
glanced up to find my towel.

On the fog covered mirror, I began to see letters
forming, as if they were written by an invisible
finger.

P-U-S-S-Y

I tried to scream, but I couldn't get any sound to
come out of my throat. I scrambled to get out of the
bathtub to flee this haunted place, nude as I was.

As I tried stood to get out of the tub, "Pussy . . . "
The sound came from in front of my face, but there was
nothing there! I jumped back at the sound and huddled
against the wall of the shower. My body shut down in
fright, I couldn't scream or move. The contents of my
bladder ran down my legs.

"We really must see about getting you toilet trained,"
the unseen female voice said, followed by maniacal
laughter.

To my horror my hairdryer was floating above the
bathtub. "Sit back down in the tub Pussy, or you will
join me in death," the sinister voice whispered from
in front of me.

This is not possible. This is not possible, some
distant part of me screamed, but I sat back down in
the tub as ordered. The smell of my urine was strong
in my nostrils. The voice, it was slightly familiar.
Where had I heard it before? The hatred in it was
palpable.

"Take the mirror beside you and hold it up." I heard
the voice say.

Trembling, I picked up the mirror and looked into the
glass. Numb fingers unclenched, and it shattered on
the floor. The sound of breaking glass tinkling on the
tiled floor passed in and out my ears, ignored. I
began to hyperventilate at the face I'd seen in the
reflection.

Olivia!

"We begin to understand each other now, don't we
bitch?" said the voice of Olivia. "Imagine my
surprise, catching my husband kissing a pussy at the
Halloween party. The look in his eyes told me
everything I needed to know.

I went home that night and slashed my wrists to end my
misery. My head was filled with hate for the person .
. . the pussy that ruined my life. My awareness
slowly faded away with every drop of my blood. That
should have been the end of it, but when I became
aware again . . . I was stuck here watching you."
Olivia said.

Watching me? How much had she seen me do? What about
when I . . . dear God no!

"I've tried to leave you many times, but every time I
do, I fade away, only to become aware of myself again
. . . right back in your presence. At first, I could
only watch helplessly. But lately, I have begun to be
able to move things, to touch you when you sleep, and
to be able to make you hear me."

The things that moved at night! The dreams! My
toothbrush! Suddenly things were beginning to make
sense.

"Now I'm left with this extremely difficult choice. I
can kill you and cut the strings trapping me here on
this world, but probably sending my soul straight to
hell in the process. For all I know this may be my
hell."

Kill me? I felt emptiness inside as if my heart had
been wretched out of my chest. My bladder tried to
void again, but it was empty. "Please, please, I'm so
sorry Olivia. Don't kill me . . . I don't' want to
die!" I cried helplessly.

I only heard the sound of her heartless laughter as
she finished speaking. "Then I realized there was
another choice. See, I could take my revenge on you
and Bill. Then I can have a little enjoyment while
I'm stuck here with the Pussy. Yes, I could have a
heavenly time with that."

"Please, please, Olivia. I didn't mean for it to
happen. I don't even see Bill anymore. I never will
again, I promise," I begged the ruthless spirit.
"Please, anything just leave me be."

"The pussy will spread her legs. I want to see the
cunt of the slut that fucked my husband!"

The thought of being so helpless before this vengeful
ghost terrified me. I was afraid that if she saw my
sex, the pussy that fucked her husband, she would fly
into a rage and kill me.

"Please, I'm not a slut. I've only been with two men
in my life," I tried to reason with her, but one of
the candles floated in the air and dumped its hot wax
on my breasts. "Owwww!" I screamed.

"Pussies that don't obey will be punished!" Olivia
cackled.

I tried to wipe the red trails of burning wax, from my
breasts, but I only spread it making it worse. I
looked at all the candles burning in the bathroom,
thinking of how much pain they could cause. I spread
my legs widely, exposing myself, baring the most
intimate part of my body, to this evil spirit.

Cold body wash was dumped onto my sex, then a razor
floated menacingly toward my crotch. "Please, please
don't cut me. I'm begging you." I sobbed as tears
flowed down my cheeks.

"The pussy needn't fear -- if she obeys." Olivia
said.

I closed my eyes and prayed as the razor slid over my
sex. As I lay there, spread open before the dead wife
of my lover, a terrible thing happened: To my horror,
my body had begun to react. My labia were swollen and
secretions dripped from my sex. I closed my eyes and
turned away, while the razor bared my lower lips and
trimmed the patch above.

Why me? Why me? Why is my body betraying me, before
the wife of my lover. In my mind, I could imagine my
clit sticking out, proving to her the kind of a slut I
really was. I was the kind of slut who slept with a
married man, the kind of slut who gets aroused by his
wife.

I felt relieved, when she cleaned the soap off my sex
with a washcloth. I looked down at her handiwork. My
lips had been shaven bare, but my dark pubes were now
trimmed in a circle topped by two ears. Dear god!
She's trimmed it into a cat -- a pussycat.

"Open it now. I want to see all of it," Olivia
demanded.

I brought my fingers down and spread my labia for the
evil spirit. I was humiliated with the knowledge,
that she would see that I was turned on.

"Is the pussy horny?" she asked, the venom practically
dripping from her voice when she said horny.

"No," I said as I shook my head blushing.

"Aiiiieeee!" I screamed as I felt the shock of molten
wax burn my sex. I tried to wipe the hot wax from my
tender lips, but I felt her cold bony fingers holding
my hands away. I squirmed uselessly in the tub in
agony.

Finally, the pain began to subside. The only sounds
in the bathroom were my sobs and ragged breath.

"Pussies mustn't lie. Open it again, for your new
owner!" Olivia demanded.

I had never felt so utterly helpless before. She had
said owner! I glanced down at my humiliating
position. Yes, she was my owner and I was a captive .
. . a slave to this invisible spirit. My legs opened
again and tenderly, to avoid the splashes of wax, I
parted the delicate petals of my pink flower.

"Is the pussy horny?" Olivia asked, as if she were
talking to a child.

"Yes ah I-I'm horny!" I replied meekly. Just please
don't get mad again.

"Yes, the pussy is horny Mistress," she corrected me
sternly.

"Yes, the pussy is horny Mistress," I replied. What
was worse, was that I really was horny. My clit stuck
out obscenely from my spread sex. Wherever in the
room Olivia was, I'm sure she could see the nectar
begin to drip from the pink folds of my pussy.

"I bet the pussy would like something inside her needy
cunt, wouldn't she?" Olivia asked, her voice sweet,
but slightly patronizing, once again.

If I had learned nothing else tonight, I had learned
to answer and obey Olivia without hesitation. "Yes
Mistress, the P-Pussy would like s-something in her
cunt," I sobbed.

"The pussy may get out of the tub now."

I got out of the tub, dried off, then picked up a robe
. . . "Aigh!" I cried looking down to see my nipple
being pinched between invisible fingers and then
pulled away from my body.

"The pussy shall remain naked in this house." Olivia
said, twisting my nipple to emphasize her point.

I cried out in pain from her mistreatment of my
sensitive orbs, but quickly dropped the robe. Her
pinch slackened, but did not release. Then she pulled
me forward by my nipple, leading me like a beast
through my apartment.

I was led by my nipple, past the open blinds of my
apartment, into my dining room. "The blinds!" I cried
out in embarrassment.

"What's wrong? The pussy was so eager to show off her
charms at the party," Olivia said, as she tugged my
nipple in a circle, causing me to pirouette for anyone
who might be looking.

Then she led me over to the dining room table. "Here
hold this, until I come back." She pinched my nipple
and pulled it up.

Hesitantly, I reached and took my nipple from her
grasp. It was hard and shots of pleasure shot through
my body as I grasped it. I burned with humiliation as
I stood there, obediently holding my breast stretched
out into the air for her. However, as much as I hated
to admit it, my body yearned for me to touch the other
one.
I watched in horror, as the small end of one of the
decorative gourds in a Halloween arrangement in the
center of the table, began to point into the air. The
green and white-striped fruit, looked perversely like
a penis sticking up.

"I believe the pussy was saying she needed something
to stick in her needy cunt." A vase spontaneously
exploded, when she said the word cunt. I jumped in
fear at this display of her anger. "She will do it on
her own or I will do it for her in another hole."

"Please Mistress, please." I pleaded with the cold-
hearted bitch. I trembled in fear and humiliation at
the thought of performing such an intimate act in
front of her. However, having the large knotty
bulbous fruit up my ass wasn't an option. I bent over
to pick up the gourd.

"The pussy knows what to do with it. She will do it in
front of the living-room widow, so she can learn the
embarrassment and humiliation I endured at the party."
There was no sympathy in her voice, just the coldness
of revenge. Nor could I look in her eyes to see any
of my pleading softened her.

Tears filled my eyes again, at the hopelessness of my
situation. "Please, not the in front of the window,
someone might see. Please, Mistress, I'll do
anything." I begged.

"The pussy has a choice. She will stick her new
friend in her cunt in front of the window or I ram it
up her ass, so hard she will have to wear diapers to
work. The pussy has three seconds to decide."

"Three"

"Two"

I grabbed a chair from the table and Olivia took my
nipple from my fingers and led me in front of the
window. I followed her, clutching the gourd to my
chest. It was a large, dry, bumpy gourd and I knew
without a doubt, I didn't want it in my ass.

I sat down in the chair and tried not to think about
the uncovered window. I began to insert the small end
of the gourd in my sex. It wasn't long until I could
feel my wetness flow. I looked out over the New York
skyline and the rain running down the glass, I
wondered who could see me, apparently sitting there by
myself, fucking my cunt with this yellow and green
phallus.

"Ugh!" I groaned, as I pushed it in deeper, its
coldness invading my cunt. I could feel every bump on
the curved gourd as it penetrated my stretched
opening. It felt surprisingly good.

"The big end goes first, if the pussy is to get it out
later," Olivia said.

I turned it around and looked at the big end. It was
so big! Why it was at least three inches in diameter,
there was no way I could fit it in my sex. However, I
knew my Mistress wasn't going to be satisfied until I
did as she commanded.

I spread my legs widely, resting my feet on the cold
glass of the window as I pushed my ass to the edge of
the chair. I opened myself as wide as possible
because the gourd was big. Much bigger than anything
I had ever imagined putting in my sex.

I turned the fruit around, trying to push the big end
past the tight grommet of my gate. Getting it started
was the hardest part, it was cold and it stretched my
poor pussy as I struggled to grow accustomed to its
girth.

I glanced at the window again and I could make out my
reflection. The woman in the reflection looked like
she trying to give birth in one of those
documentaries. However, instead of a baby coming out,
she was trying to cram the large end of a gourd into
her cunt.

I was mortified, yet a tiny part of me that I didn't
even know existed before, loved the reflection. She -
- I mean me, was getting what she deserved for acting
like a slut and screwing a married man. She was
getting what she had coming to her. Cumming, yes, I
wanted to cum. I wanted to cum on the bumpy flesh of
the gourd. I deserved the pleasure, pain, and
humiliation that I was receiving from Olivia. Olivia
couldn't hate me as much as I hated myself at that
moment.

A whine rose up in my throat, as I began to push the
gourd in. I pushed it painfully hard in an attempt to
punish myself. To punish the part of my body that had
caused this trouble. My flesh yielded and I was
filled to my capacity as the the large round base slid
home. I could feel an orgasm teasing me from my
stretched sex, just a little more and it will be all
mine, I thought as I began to push the gourd in a
little further.

"Hands off Pussy, I know what you are trying to do!"
demanded the vengeful voice of the spirit, before
breaking out in hysterical laughter.

Reluctantly, I obeyed my Mistress. As my pleasure
faded, reality once again returned. My mind recalled
the open window, the dead wife of my lover, and the
neck of the gourd sticking obscenely from my sex.

"Move your hands underneath your legs and spread
yourself wide. I'm sure the pussy is familiar with
that position." Olivia said superiorly.

Yes, I had been spread before . . . for her husband,
but that was different, that was making love, not
domination. The worse part of it was my body couldn't
tell the difference. It was almost as if it craved
the domination from Olivia more than the tender love
of her husband.

I reached under my legs and spread myself out for
anyone who may have been looking. I'm sure they could
have seen the top of the yellow-green phallus buried
in my cunt and the little winking eye of my ass.

"The pussy will sleep here tonight . . . just like
that."

I trembled in fear as I felt her cold invisible
fingers run between my thighs and grab the neck of the
gourd and begin to fuck me with short tiny strokes. I
tried to resist her . . . to think of driving in heavy
traffic or a busy day at work, but the pussy would not
be denied. My breath quickened, my lips parted, and my
breasts swelled. I began to rock in time with her
strokes. Olivia rewarded my participation and
submissiveness by increasing the speed and penetration
of her strokes.

Please don't let me cum, I begged my body. Please,
this is wrong, don't respond to this. I thought of
the people in the other building staring at the
perverted slut in the window, fucking the air. There
was no way they could know that I was being controlled
by a vengeful spirit I couldn't see or fight. They
would only see the slut, whose body was betraying her
once again. My bare feet pressed against the cold
glass, while my hips rose off the chair and humped of
their own volition.

"Ahhhh . . . " I groaned, as the gourd was suddenly
pushed extremely deep into my sex. I wished I could
cry, but instead of tears, I could only feel the wet
secretions drip from my sex, running down my cleft and
pool in the chair.

As much as I hated to admit it, admit it I did. My
Mistress took me to the edge, then back again.
Always, she kept me on the brink, but never quite far
enough to achieve climax. The pussy is horny, please
let the pussy cum. Please Mistress, your pussy needs
to cum so bad.

"Do you feel helpless Pussy? Can you imagine how
helpless I felt that night at the Halloween party?
Does the pussy want to cum? Can she feel how
desperate I was that night?" she asked my again and
again, as if I were a naughty nasty little girl.

"Yes! Yes! Yes! I'm so sorry Mistress . . . please
please . . . I'll do anything, I promise. Just
please, let the pussy *cum*!" I was a naughty girl.
I was a naughty girl who slept with her husband! I
was only a pussy that was desperate to cum!
"I'll hold you to that promise slut," she said, as she
fucked me relentlessly with the gourd.
As I climaxed, I felt something break in me as liquid
pleasure suddenly rushed forth from my sex. "Ahhhh .
. . Ahhhh . . . Yes . . . Fuck . . . Aiiiiieeeee!" I
screamed at the top of my lungs. I had never been a
screamer before, but then again, I had never cum
before . . . not like that.

Suddenly, I felt her cold body press on top of me; she
hugged me tightly, trapping me in the chair, as her
legs slipped under mine. I felt the bitter cold seep
down into the marrow of my bones, chilling my very
soul. My scream from my climax was cut off, as her
mouthed push against mine, stealing the breath from my
lungs. I gasped trying to suck it back, helplessly
accepting her probing tongue. I could feel my orgasm
explode, while I saw stars and my lungs burned.
Helplessly, I gave up my last breath to her . . .

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