You ache. And you need an exorcism.

You wake up hours later, as your phone tells you helpfully, and you struggle to sit up, swinging your legs off the bed, and stare bleary-eyed at the wall. You had a terrible nightmare, about this app you downloaded, and which... a painful throb from your crotch makes you finally drop your eyes to your dick, and you realize that it is still reddened and swollen almost to the size of a full erection, but limp and spongy. That and the fact your ass still sticks to the sheets and you feel dried ectoplasm on your face finally cuts through the denial.

MalO is real, and she rode you like a paralysed bronco yesterday. That, or you had a psychotic break and a wet dream. You don't know which is scarier. But you do know one thing: Your dick does not look as it should. If it's not back to normal or at least free from that dull, throbbing ache by afternoon, you are gonna go and check yourself into the closest urgent care.

Unsurprisingly, even after a shower, some hearty brunch and consciously ignoring what happened this morning, your cock is still throbbing and pulsing, a fist-sized bulge in your pants. Urgent care it is, then. So you do what you always do when you go into town: put on your shoes, step out the door and lock up - and freeze, with your keys still in the lock.

To be clear, the latter is not 'as usual', but you're sure you saw movement outside the window looking out into the city from the staircase. Definitely humanoid movement. But you're on the second floor! And when you look, it's gone. You must have imagined it. Right? And if not, it must have been a bird or something. Nevermind that it was very much too big--

"Nnnnope..." you mutter under your breath, actively making your train of thought change track.

Which, to be honest, isn't that hard when you dick hurts as if someone stepped on it. And you're not into that kind of shit. You pop in your headphones and put on some music, making your way to the bus stop - a bit bowlegged for certain reasons. Luckily, it's not far, but you've not even made it half of the way when something dashes past you on your right... But there's only a store front, with a large glass pane. And on your left, there is nothing that could have made a reflection - everything respectively everyone is either slower or faster than the movement you saw. And the store is empty. 'For Lease', as a sign helpfully informs you.

Shaking your head to free yourself from a growing sense of unease, you continue on to the bus stop, leaning your shoulder against the glass forming the left side of the stop. Listening to your music, you almost reach a meditative state, blissfully devoid of thoughts, until ...

"Lo̙̥̬͋̆͆ͬ́͜͝ͅö́́k͍̻̃ à̠̩̋͘t̪ m̶̥é͙̈̕, John!"

Your head whips to the left, nose almost brushing against the glass you're leaning on, and you can barely suppress a scream as you bolt away from the milky orb staring at you from a blank, canine skull. MalO stares at you, a reflection without anything to be reflected, half transparent and yet distressingly real. And her distorted, gleeful voice is audible in your headphones.

"Ï̠͖̣͒͟ T̺̬̓Ȍ̷̢͍͆̕L̻̾D̶̛ͧ̆͠ y̓̃o̩͡͞u.̙̖̻̱̃̉ Y̡͛́̚ŏ̪̘̌̅ṵ̖̐́͋͢'͕ͨl̩̗͓l̨̥̏̌̍̑͒ n̅_̀ẻ̺͜͠v͕͊͜e͛r̆̕ b̩e̬̳͒̄̕͢͡ a̻̝͗́ĺ̸̝̲͉ǫ̣̜̀n̫ͮ͜e͍̲̋̈͛͟ a̧̋g̕a̶̞̙ͨ̈́̀̃in͆͑." Somehow, MalO manages a nasty grin with an already perpetually grinning skull. "I̵͕̝̘̲̝̍'̵̱̦ͦ̅m̢͓̭̃̋ l̸o̪ͅo̞k̥͖̋ͭͣ͟͢i̐͐̌ng̡̉ͨ͊͜ͅ f̩̜̩ͭ̀o̫̥ͫr̈ͮw̴̡͙̉̿͂̌a̘̣̅́̇̕rd̪̻͖s̢̆̈́ͫ t̞͓͍̂̌͡o̻͌̌.͉̾ͅ.̗.̣͉̓ͅ d̰̑̏e̩ͧ͋͠ę͕̞̋p̽ͤ͢é̞̠̃ͣͅn̄ͧ̌̕ o̥ͬ͌ur̶͎̀͝ r̠̻͎̅el̀at̼̒io̶̶̮̮̱̾̐n͍̈́s͕̆̒h̯i͉͛̔ͯ́́͡p͚͒.̱͍̪̿̍"

Gasping, you stare at the reflection of your tormentor, but one blink, and MalO is gone. As if she's never been here. And maybe... maybe she wasn't. Maybe you're losing your mind. The middle-aged guy staring at you certainly seems to think that.

"S-Sorry, saw a bee..." You mumble, turning around and pretending to study the bus schedule.

The rest of the 5 minute wait doesn't feel awkward - but only because your mind is whirling with thoughts that are less concerned with other humans and much more with supernatural entities that regard your dick as their property.

"T͕ȟ̤͙at'̠ͬͣͤs͔ͬ r̟͇͐ͅi̮g̵͝hẗ̗̖́̈́̀,͚ͯ John.̢̼̣̀̽͢ Y̳̊́͡o̷̴ͦ̀ͪ͟ů̶̫̭ͭ̇ͦr̲̬̟͇ͫ̀̋ d̰̻̋̓î͓̱͈c̶̖͂͟k̤ͬ iͤs̟͈̻̽ͬ M̡̾̂I̴͎̣̩͉ͯ̈́̈͞Ṋ̴̝͆͜Ȩ̡̞ͮ̋͗̆!"

You rip out your headphones and stare down the street, in the hopes of seeing the bus approach. To your massive relief, it does.

Even though it's past noon, the bus is filled barely a third, so you decide to sit down in a four-seat spot for the extra leg room, lift your hand to pull out your phone - only for it to drop back down to the seat limply. And it's not alone: None of your limbs listen to you. Again. All you can do is move your eyes. And as you throw a glance to the side windows of the bus, your heart begins to beat in your throat: Even though the actual aisle is empty, in the reflection, you see MalO, naked as ever, sauntering ever closer to you, taking her sweet time... because she and you both know: you cannot get away.

Finally, MalO stands over you - although you only see that in the reflection in the glass. The actual space in front of you seems unoccupied. But you know better, your breathing quickening as you fight to get away, only for your traitorous boy to not react at all. MalO leans forwards, and you feel the pressure of her right hand on your aching bulge, her left putting one of your headphones back in.

"The͈̞̼̦͡ͅr̦̠̒͞e̝ͥ̃́,̸͍̊͑̈͡͠ th̷a̭̯̮̠ͬt'̼͓ͮs̨͍͆͜ b̙̖̾ͯe̻͖̘͉͋ͣ͘t̹͕ͫ̓t̏e̝ͨ̅r̙." Once again, you hear the apparition's voice cutting through your music, MalO's right massaging your swollen, yet still limp cock. But it, too, betrays you, inexorably growing stiffer. "I'll have such F̥̲̣͋̋ͣ͜U̹N̨͚̻͎̠ͩͪ̔̚ with you."

The sound of your fly opening seems incredibly loud, and you see some of the other people on the bus - the middle aged man, a young woman that you think you've seen on campus, a slightly frazzled woman in her thirties - throw a glance your way. Luckily, no one has a direct line of sight to your crotch. As long as they stay seated. But it's not like you can do anything about MalO pulling out your pulsing shaft, her strokes surprisingly gentle as she coaxes it to grow.

When you look down at your crotch, you only see your massivly swollen rod, moving and twitching on its own, but your reflection in the window reveals the truth, with MalO standing over you, muzzle of white bone inches from your face, her right pumping your shaft and her left supporting her on the backrest of your seat. A glance to the fleshless skull of MalO's face reveals her brightly glowing eyes staring down at you, and your own eyes are wide and panicked when you look at your own reflection.

"What do you think they'll do when they see?" MalO croons as you feel her tongue lick along your jaw languidly, your cock growing harder under her ministrations. "You with your b̜̜͑̓ͫig͑,̅ fȁ̷͇̤̣ͥt d̃̅͞iͨͧ͜͞cķ́̑̌ out, panting and groaning? Or better yet, you cumming ḁ̀͐͟l̴̠̼̆̀ļ̧̼̍̾̒̉ o̗v̤̯̎̈̊e̡̛͚͜r̈́ th̛͓̮̗ͬ̒̕e͍̫̭̎ͭ͘͠ s̷e̠̘̰͔̍͌a̙͇ͬ̽̆ts͊͐̓ͨ?"

You indeed groan - achy as your cock is, MalO's hand feels nice and cool against it as she tugs it lightly, fingers parallel to the shaft and thumb wrapped around the tumescent length. It feels gigantic in her hand, and when you look down, it indeed looks twice as thick and almost a third again as long as you're used to, red and swollen and pounding. But even your monstrously large dick doesn't distract you from the fact that a ghostly monster is giving you a handjob in public. MalO is invisible, and you have a feeling that you're the only one who can see her reflected in the window...

"At least you have stamina, John," MalO whispers in your headphones as her thumb rubs over your glans, smearing it with pre, and you do your best to suppress the guttural noise that's building in your throat. "I m͈̆i͉͢͟l̶ͤͤ́ͭk̘ė̢͞ͅd̢͕̟̐̋ͧͅ y̢͕̼̹o̮͙̥̔ͭu̸̱ͮ̿ d̦̫ͫr͕y̞̋̒ this morning, and now you're ř̨͓̟͇̃̕ą̸͒̋ͩͫ͘ŕ̞̔iͭn̩g̫̼͔͚͋ͤͪ to͈͔̦̬̿̈́̏ g̐o̔ again..."

You're not raring to go, your penis is just a treacherous prick willing to get stiff for any random ghost that comes along! As your heart thunders in your ears and your eyes keep flicking between the other people in the bus, you can't help but wonder...