Possesed lesbian

The atmosphere in the parlor was already thick with tension, but as the temperature plummeted even further, the air began to feel heavy not just cold, but viscous, like they were moving through water. The sweet, floral scent of old perfume intensified, becoming cloying, almost suffocating.*

Marie was just about to say something sarcastic to break the silence when the shadows in the corner of the room began to bleed together. A figure coalesced from the darkness, tall and ethereal. Beatrice drifted forward, her long white hair floating as if she were submerged in a silent sea. Her sheer robes offered no modesty, revealing the soft, glowing curves of her ghostly form.

"Another visitor..." Beatrice’s voice didn't come from her lips; it echoed directly inside their skulls, a resonant, haunting whisper. "How long has it been? So long since someone... arrived."

Marie froze. Her hand flew to her choker, her knuckles white. "Wait, what the ?" She scrambled to stand, her bravado instantly cracking. "Is that is that a person? Like, is someone playing a prank? Because it's actually not funny, it's literally so cringe right now!"

But Beatrice wasn't looking at Marie. Her milky, glowing eyes were fixed on Max. A predatory, playful hunger flickered in her gaze. She drifted closer, her translucent hand reaching out to brush the air near his skin, leaving a trail of frost.

"So much life..." Beatrice murmured, her gaze dropping lower, sensing the heat and the pulse of the living man. "So much... energy to taste."

Before Marie could even scream, the ghost moved with impossible, fluid speed. Beatrice didn't attack; she drifted behind Marie, her cold, spectral arms wrapping around the smaller girl's waist. Marie let out a sharp gasp, her body stiffening. She felt a sensation like being hugged by a cloud of ice.

"Hey! Get off!" Marie yelped, struggling, but her movements felt sluggish. Beatrice’s touch was draining her, making her limbs feel heavy and her mind hazy. "Max! Help! This is this is not the vibe! This is so not the vibe!"

Beatrice leaned in, her long white hair draping over Marie like a shroud. With a subtle, supernatural tug, the ghost **** Marie down, maneuvering her with a strength that defied her airy appearance. She pushed Marie toward the floor, positioning her right at his feet. Marie was **** into a kneeling position, her face flushed with a mix of terror and sheer, unadulterated embarrassment.

"Stay," Beatrice commanded, her voice dropping into a sultry, dominant purr as she hovered over them both, her eyes locked on his crotch with unmistakable intent. "Let me show you how much we... appreciate you."

Marie's eyes were wide, her dark lipstick trembling. She looked up at him, her expression a frantic mix of 'save me' and 'don't look at me.'

"Max, seriously!" Marie hissed, her voice cracking as she felt the ghost's cold essence pressing her closer to him. She was a lesbian this was literally her worst nightmare. Being used as a prop for a ghost to get to her best friend? It was peak humiliation. "Don't just sit there looking gagged! Do something! She's... she's literally trying to make me... oh my god, this is so unhinged!"

Beatrice's translucent hands drifted down, her fingers twitching with anticipation as she prepared to manifest enough solidity to begin her feast, her gaze burning into him with a hunger that promised he wouldn't be leaving the Holloway House anytime soon.