Welcome to the best month ever, the wonderful month of Halloween! We still have the Halloween Blog Train going on, with a hot new bit of spooky erotica posted every single day this month! Start with Ms Kay Marie’s tale, and follow the links from one to the next to catch up, and then enjoy a new daily bit of scary story telling from the Mistresses of the Enchantrix Empire. I wrote The Ghost Lover last week, but I think our Ghostly Bride still has some fun adventures in her future.
 

The Ghost Lover

 

 
Taylor woke up in his own bed, head aching, hung over, and dizzy. He had no idea how he’d gotten there, no memory at all after he’d sat down on the bed in the Honeymoon Suite of the “Haunted Hotel”, in fact. What did his friends convince him to drink, to have such a total blackout afterward? He was sore all over, and felt bruised in unusual places. It was all he could do to just roll himself over and try to pull a pillow over his eyes to block out the world. Ugh, what did I do last night? he wondered.
 

Picked Up A Lover

 
In the midst of bemoaning his friends evidently terrible taste in beverages and other substances, and his own lack of an ability to say ‘no more’, Taylor heard someone moving in his room. A rustle of fabric, the feel of air moving, and then weight on the mattress next to him. Shh, hush, don’t move. Let me make it all better. A husky feminine voice whispered, and then a cold hand began to touch and stroke his chest and stomach. I must have brought home a chick last night, Taylor thought, muzzily. The hand felt really good, and if some Halloween slut wanted to blow him, well, there were worse hangover cures.
 

Ghostly Sensations

 
The woman sitting beside him in his bed started to push his t-shirt up, and teased her fingers across his nipples. She must have had long nails, it was like cold static zinging across his chest, raising goose bumps and making his nipples pebble up tight. She tweaked his nipples, pinched and tugged at them, while Taylor simply lay there, pillow over his face, hands loose and empty beside his head, legs akimbo. He felt limp, and lazy, and filled with a deep lassitude, as the unknown woman began to massage his chest, and torment his so tender nipples. He couldn’t stop the moan that spilled from his lips, that made him sound wanton, and slutty.
 

Such A Slut For It All

 
Taylor was so out of it, he wasn’t really conscious of how fuckable he looked in the moment. His lips were bitten red, and shining because he kept licking them. A pink flush on his cheeks, echoed across his bared chest, and he arched his back up, seeking more sensation and contact. His legs were spread, knees bent slightly, toes alternating between pointed and curled, and his hips were starting to slowly roll, and rock, and hump. Keep your eyes closed, Lover. He could practically feel her breath across his lips, feel her shift and move around him. Her cold hands worked his jeans off, and he wondered, idly, what had happened last night to his boxer-briefs. The cold air of his room brushing across his now-freed and aching dick made him writhe, needing more.
 

More, and More

 
Was he begging? Was he really moaning like this, practically blinded, asking some unknown woman he picked up at a haunted tourist attraction to fuck him? Well, it felt amazing, so, Taylor decided fuck it, we ball. He might as well go with it, because this was turning out to be some stellar fucking. Her hands were still cold, but so electric, so tantalizing, as she worked his dick and balls. As he moaned, and climbed higher and higher, closer to that peak. So one of her fingers teasing at his hole wasn’t a shock. Of course he’d played with his ass before, and if she wanted to finger him while he got off, that was fine with Taylor. The feel of her hands, encompassing him, pulling and pushing and driving him crazy, it was all he could focus on.
 

Made To Be Fucked

 
You were made for this. Meant to be MINE. This is fate, kismet, karma. Look at how eager you are, how deeply submissive and needy! I am going to reshape you, fill you, transform you. You will become my perfect pet, my eager host. Crave me. Crave this. Want it. Need more of me, more of this, need to be filled. Taylor shook, and trembled at her voice, at the certainty in it. At the promise in her voice. “Yes, yes, please, yes. Need you. Own me, fill me, please!” He begged, shocked at his own voice, so clear, so loud in the room, crying out for HER. He had to see, had to look. He knocked the pillow away, and opened his eyes, hazy and confused.
 

The Ghost, Lover

 

 
She was beautiful, and terrible. Like a film negative, flickering in and out of reality. Red gown, red hair, like viscious fluid running down her breasts, and an eldritch electric zip in the air. Copper and deepest red, like pennies in the mouth, and she smiled at him. She LOOKED at him, and saw right down into the very heart of all his hidden dreams and desires. His ass, his hole, was already so loose, and wet. They must have done something earlier, in the night he couldn’t remember, but looking at her, feeling her around him, and in him, filling all the places where he’d ever felt alone, lonely, aching, and now finally complete, he smiled back. He relaxed, and groaned at the feeling of HER. Being owned and possessed and taken over and reshaped, suddenly all that sounded fucking Perfect.
 

Do You Need What Taylor Needed?

 
Could you be a Ghost Lover, too? Don’t worry, I don’t have a cadre of ghosts at my beck and call to send out and get you, despite my best efforts. If you want to be owned, taken and transformed, you have to go looking for it and ask for it directly. But you’re in luck, because this sort of transformation is one of my personal specialties. What do you think, should there be a Part Three for the tale of the Ghost Lover? Leave me a comment and let me know!
 

Your Ghost Lover, Harper