Ellie Gets Handsy

"I'm back, dear! I've made porridge and brought you some vitamins and a glass of water."

Your mother announces her arrival and carries in a tray of healthy goodies. She sits onto the bed, where Elizabeth is, unknowingly occupying the same space.

"Goodness, dear. It's very cold in your room. After you're done here you should come down and rug up. How are you feeling?"

"Uh, a little better. Thanks mom."

She feels your forehead. Not able to detect a fever she leaves you with your breakfast and wishes you well. You're alone with the ghost girl again. She smiles at you as you help yourself to your meal.

"Porridge? You truly are a peasant."

"Oats are very healthy," you grumble.

She raises an eyebrow. "A very wise Englishman once said, 'Oats are a grain, which in England is generally given to horses, but in Scotland supports the people.' You're not a ... Scot, are you?" She says the word with obvious contempt.

"No. Not that it matters," you reply.

"Harrumph," she grumbles, crossing her arms. Then she gets a wicked twinkle in her eye and reaches over. She flicks you on the forehead with her index finger.

"Hey, that stings!"

She just laughs. You try to shove her hand away but your arms go straight through. She cups your chin in her hand.

"What are you doing?" you ask.

"I ... I was just thinking, you remind me of a servant boy we had. He was quite dear to me. I wonder..."

"I'm not your servant. And I'm not your 'boy' either."

She pays no attention to you and pulls up her tattered white dress. It had 'dried' since last night. Now her ankles are exposed.

"What do you think?" she says, twirling her foot at you. You can't help but laugh.

"It takes a lot more than bare legs to get guys excited these days."

"Ugh, you're so vulgar... Fine, have it your way."

She pulls up her ragged dress all the way to her waist. Underneath she is naked, and she very clearly has a cock and balls.

"Oh," you say. "You're one of them."

"Yes, I am one of 'them.' I see some prejudices haven't been lost to time."

"No! I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I really don't mind. Honest."

She looks at you warily. "You really don't mind?"

"Not at all. I'm sorry that your family did such an awful thing to you because of how you were born."

She gives you a faint smile. Then she has that cheeky look again. She takes your breakfast tray and sets it aside, then clambers on top of you. You can feel her weight pressing down onto you now. She's stroking her cock.

"You know," she says. "If you're the only one who can see or hear me. I can really do whatever I want to you. And if you're fine with me being like this then..." She draws closer to your face. You try to push her away but you can't. Her ghostly dick is getting closer and closer and there's nothing you can do to stop it.

She grabs your head and feeds you her cock. You gag. She doesn't let you go. Gradually you adjust to the sensation and let her move your head up and down her length. You cross your arms and growl, clearly irritated.

"Haha! Oh, it feels so good when you do that. Groan all you like. No one can stop me now."

You give in and let her have her way with you. She's obviously pent up after so many centuries trapped in a dark abyss. She cups her balls and jams your head further down until your mouth is flush with her stomach. You gag at the sudden intrusion and struggle to breath. You hope she finishes soon. She holds you there, relishing the sensations that she thought she would never experience again. Your vision is going cloudy and you helplessly flail your fists through her body.

"Just a moment, boy. I'm almost... Yes, YES, here it comes!"

Your mouth is flooded with her unearthly cum. But it's not hot. It's cold. You swallow, **** for air. Finally she releases you from her cock and you gasp loudly.

"God, you almost killed me!"

"Calm thyself," she sighs. "I would not hurt you. Not now that I've got you all to myself. You know what this means, don't you?" She's massaging her spent cock over your pyjamas. "Anytime I want, wherever you are - I can play with you. And no one will know, except you. All they'll see is a young man leaning against a wall, or lying on the ground. But you'll know I'm fucking you into it."

Her threats fill you with dread. Do you attempt to negotiate, or do you plan to find some way to banish this becocked she-ghost?