The ghosts humble the girls

After their spanking, which seemed to last for hours, Susie and Bonnie were rotated and bent over at their waist to present their rosy-red bottoms to the crowd. They held this position for ten minutes, being spanked some more, before the ghosts picked them up and marched them down the stairs, towards their leering admirers.

Hank and Ben, in particular, were singled out to get a good long look at every part of the girls' intimate anatomy before they were marched across the carnival, the ghosts moving their arms and legs for them. Curious hands, not all of them male, reached out to pinch and squeeze as the girls wriggled their way through their entirely involuntary parade of shame down the dusky streets.

Finally, they reached a spot outside the Big Top, where two wooden frames awaited them. The girls were picked up and strapped in, spread-eagled before the ticket queue and anyone curious who happened to pass by. Much of the crowd had dispersed by now, the carnival being full of other equally sexy attractions, but Hank and Ben were still there. To Bonnie's enormous annoyance, Hank had got his cell phone back, and he was using it to the fullest extent possible.

"Hey, Bonnie," he said helpfully. "What's it like getting your ass spanked in front of the whole world? My fifteen thousand Insta followers want to know."

"You don't have fifteen... shut up! Ow!" The ghosts had spanked her again.

"Hey, Susie," said Ben, politely. "I really enjoy spending math class with you, and I just want to let you know that I kind of have a crush on you."

"R... really?"

"Yeah. Which means I'm really enjoying getting to see your pussy like this. You're really wet!"

A short while later, the tickle **** began. The girls, cry-laughing and pleading for mercy as they were tickled from hips to feet to armpits to pussy and back again, two very cute boys recording the whole thing while the ticket queue and a bunch of random passers-by looked curiously on, may have felt better if they'd known they weren't alone. Or maybe not.

Over by the Ferris Wheel, the cheerleaders were arranged in a neat row, spread-eagled in their own wooden frames. Ghostly dicks were spurting hot spectral cum all over them, visible to everyone, glistening on their bodies, matted in their hair and dripping down their pretty faces. The football team was pointing and laughing and calling them cumsluts, which they were. More ghost cocks slowly and meticulously explored every inch of their mouths and pussies, pumping cum down their throats over and over. The most humiliating thing was that everyone could see how much they liked it.

And, outside her own Haunted House, Miss Trickett was still being spanked. The ghosts hadn't stopped spanking her for even a minute. However, she was now also having the nipples of her full dark breasts pinched and her round ass probed by a very cold slimy finger. In addition, every square inch of her body was being licked by cold horrible-feeling slimy tongues, from her earlobes to the soles of her feet to the inner folds of her pussy. It felt like slugs were crawling all over her body and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

So maybe that would have been some comfort to the girls. But maybe not.