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The Haunting of Heather 1

The Haunting of Heather Ch.1

by pussy Kat

Couture@literotica.org

(F/Ghost, mast, MF)

Please do not read if under 18 years of age or

offended by sexually explicit stories and situations.



Hi, my name is pussy Kat, and this story is my brief

autobiography. Yes, that is my legal name now, but it

wasn't always so. You see, before my new life began

my name used to be Heather Longly and I was employed

as an Account Rep at Baum and Denslow. It was there I

met Bill, a very handsome and very married co-worker.

We were always friendly and then one day I was

assigned to a special project with Bill. He began a

little harmless flirting with me, and soon we were

both playing a twisted game of tennis in our

flirtations, batting touches and plays on words and

lustful looks, instead of bright green balls.

What was the harm? He was married and unavailable and

I didn't date co-workers. I should have stopped it

right there, but I grew to like him as a friend and

eventually we started taking our lunches together.

It was during one of these lunches that I began to

learn of his loveless marriage, to a wife who strayed

to extremes in personality. According to Bill, she

would be almost manic in her need to control him both

emotionally and sexually.

I could understand emotional control, because I had

used it a time or two to get what I wanted at work.

However, I couldn't understand how a woman could

sexually control a man, so I asked Bill about it and

he just blushed and said, he didn't want to talk about

it.

Bill said he had tried to leave her before, but she

had threatened to kill herself. He never tried to

leave again, but another wedge had been driven into

their relationship. He had even stopped having sex

with her, because he was afraid to bring a child into

that kind of environment. Besides, he didn't really

consider it making love, but rather being forced to do

uncomfortable things for her pleasure.

That was enough to make me admire his compassion and

dedication tremendously. I felt compelled to tell him

of my dreams, of becoming a writer; something that

others I had told only scoffed at or dismissed as

flights of fancy. However, Bill actually listened.

Bill continued to flirt playfully with me, but I no

longer could respond with my quick comebacks. "Cat

got your tongue?" he would say.

I could only blush in response.

Then one day as we were leaving to go home, Bill

offered to walk me to my car. As I opened my door, I

felt his hand on my shoulder. I turned around to see

him looking deeply into my eyes.

"Heather, I think I love you," he said, as he leaned

in to kiss me.

I knew it was wrong, but I melted in his embrace. Our

tongues danced, and I felt his hardness press against

my belly. A battle of little voices raged in my head.

Why does he have to be married? Come on, you are so

hot, people do this all the time. What about the

consequences? What will it hurt? He doesn't love

her. She will find out and you will get in trouble.

I love him.

"Let's go to my place," I said, still not believing

the words had come out of my mouth.

I had never done anything so bold before, but I knew I

had to have him. On the way there, I was so scared my

voice trembled as I gave him directions to my

apartment. We were both silent as we rode the

elevator up to my apartment.

"I don't know what to say Bill, I've never done

anything like this before," I said, fumbling with my

keys, as I tried to unlock my door.

"Neither have I," he said.

As soon as we entered the apartment and the door was

closed, Bill pushed me against the door and kissed me.

He rubbed his hands all over my body, disrobing me as

he went. I tried to grind my hot sex against his

hardness, but he stopped me.

"Please, we can't leave any evidence," he said, as he

took his clothes off and folded them neatly on the

chair. He laid me down on the couch, then made love

to me. As he thrust into me, I could feel him

stiffen. I hugged him close with my arms and legs, as

I felt him twitch inside me with release.

He kissed me and hugged me after his climax. Too

soon, he stood up and took the condom off, tying it in

a knot and leaving it on the coffee table. He looked

at me laying naked as he dressed. I laid there naked,

trying to look sexy, because a part of me wanted him

to stay, though I knew he couldn't.

"Sorry, Heather, but I have to go home. At least for

now," he said. I looked into his eyes and could see

the regret written in the lines of his face. I got up

and gave him a chaste kiss as he left out the door.

Yes Bill, your wife has a piece of paper, but I have

you, I thought, as I felt the weight of his condom,

before throwing it away.

This went on for the rest of October, until Halloween

night. Then disaster struck at the Halloween party at

work. He had come dressed as the Cowardly Lion and

his wife Olivia had come dressed as a witch. I was a

little jealous, because she was still pretty even in

her black pointy hat and cape. Her skirt was long

and black and hugged her narrow waist tightly, but

what really made the outfit, were the tall high heels

and black opera gloves.

Fortunately, I was prepared for anything she had to

dish out. I was wearing a black cat costume that Bill

had helped me pick out. The costume itself was quite

simple, consisting of only a form fitting black body

stocking, attached tail, and a hair-band with two

furry ears attached. It body suit covered me

completely, but displayed every curve of my body. I

had never worn anything like that before, especially

around people at work. I had always been a rather shy

girl, but I kept my body in shape and actually was

glad to be wearing the cute costume, when I saw Bill's

wife.

At the time, I felt so superior to her. At the end of

the night, I was sure Bill would remember her as the

evil witch bitch and me as the cute sweet little

kitten.

However, knowing she was there, made Bill and me

uneasy. We drank way more than we should have.

However, while his wife was occupied talking with some

other women, Bill caught my eye and motioned for me to

follow him.

He took me away from the party and into one of unused

offices. "You looked so sexy tonight I just had to

see you," he said pressing his body close to mine.

"We shouldn't do this," I protested, but I was already

kissing him. I could feel my nipples harden with

arousal, by the very danger of the situation. It was

then that disaster struck. I will never forget the

rage and betrayal on Olivia's face, when she turned on

the light.

"You are not to come home tonight bastard, stay with

your . . . " she sneered, looking at me as if I were

trash. " . . .Pussy." she finished.

Her truth of bitter comments stung me deep inside.

What on earth possessed me to wear this costume?

Suddenly, I didn't feel so sexy anymore. I felt like

a common whore and I looked like one too. I took off

my furry little cat ears, but the tail was sewn to the

suit. It followed me around, drawing attention to my

bottom with every step. As if to say, look everyone,

look at the ass of the mistress.

I went home alone and Bill spent the night in a motel.

The next morning at work, he had entered my cubicle

with tears in his eyes. "She killed herself last

night," he sobbed.

"Dear god, what happened?" I asked, my body suddenly

going numb.

"She slit her wrists in the bathtub," he cried, his

face red as tears fell down his face. "The maid found

her this morning."

I hugged him and he wept on my shoulder. I began to

cry too, remembering the look she had given me the

night before. It was as though she saw through all

the civility and manners I hid behind, and saw the

slut that was sleeping with her husband.

They held her funeral two days later. I didn't

attend. How could I have looked at her, knowing that

I had been responsible for her death.

Bill and I couldn't didn't talk after that. It was

our dirty secret, a secret we couldn't share with

anyone, not even each other. I tried to avoid places

I might see him, because looking at him brought back

memories. Memories I tried to forget.

It was then, that things started to happen. Things

would disappear, then reappear where I had just

looked. I started to hear strange noises in my

apartment, like doors opening and closing. When I

dreamed, it was of Olivia glaring at me or bleeding to

death in her bathtub.

My work began to suffer. I was chronically late,

because my alarm clock wouldn't go off or my keys

would be misplaced. My toothbrush would taste

horrible, I suspected maybe someone was doing

something to it while I was at work, so I tried

putting it in a plastic bags and hiding underneath the

towels. However, when I took it out, I noticed that

it was blue, just like the toilet water. Finally, I

bought a bunch, kept them in my purse, and threw it

away after using it.

One night, after a particularly long day at work, I

fixed myself a glass of wine and prepared to unwind

with a luxurious bath. I ran a bath, complete with

bubbles, candles and soft music. I took off my

clothes, and stepped into the wonderfully hot water.

I relaxed in the tub dozing lightly. Suddenly I awoke

with a start. The bathroom and water felt freezing

cold. Chill bumps covered my breasts. I could see my

breath as I exhaled. I pulled the drain plug, then

glanced up to find my towel.

On the fog covered mirror, I began to see letters

forming, as if they were written by an invisible

finger.

P-U-S-S-Y

I tried to scream, but I couldn't get any sound to

come out of my throat. I scrambled to get out of the

bathtub to flee this haunted place, nude as I was.



As I tried stood to get out of the tub, "Pussy . . . "

The sound came from in front of my face, but there was

nothing there! I jumped back at the sound and huddled

against the wall of the shower. My body shut down in

fright, I couldn't scream or move. The contents of my

bladder ran down my legs.

"We really must see about getting you toilet trained,"

the unseen female voice said, followed by maniacal

laughter.



To my horror my hairdryer was floating above the

bathtub. "Sit back down in the tub Pussy, or you will

join me in death," the sinister voice whispered from

in front of me.

This is not possible. This is not possible, some

distant part of me screamed, but I sat back down in

the tub as ordered. The smell of my urine was strong

in my nostrils. The voice, it was slightly familiar.

Where had I heard it before? The hatred in it was

palpable.

"Take the mirror beside you and hold it up." I heard

the voice say.

Trembling, I picked up the mirror and looked into the

glass. Numb fingers unclenched, and it shattered on

the floor. The sound of breaking glass tinkling on the

tiled floor passed in and out my ears, ignored. I

began to hyperventilate at the face I'd seen in the

reflection.

Olivia!

"We begin to understand each other now, don't we

bitch?" said the voice of Olivia. "Imagine my

surprise, catching my husband kissing a pussy at the

Halloween party. The look in his eyes told me

everything I needed to know.

I went home that night and slashed my wrists to end my

misery. My head was filled with hate for the person .

. . the pussy that ruined my life. My awareness

slowly faded away with every drop of my blood. That

should have been the end of it, but when I became

aware again . . . I was stuck here watching you."

Olivia said.

Watching me? How much had she seen me do? What about

when I . . . dear God no!

"I've tried to leave you many times, but every time I

do, I fade away, only to become aware of myself again

. . . right back in your presence. At first, I could

only watch helplessly. But lately, I have begun to be

able to move things, to touch you when you sleep, and

to be able to make you hear me."

The things that moved at night! The dreams! My

toothbrush! Suddenly things were beginning to make

sense.

"Now I'm left with this extremely difficult choice. I

can kill you and cut the strings trapping me here on

this world, but probably sending my soul straight to

hell in the process. For all I know this may be my

hell."

Kill me? I felt emptiness inside as if my heart had

been wretched out of my chest. My bladder tried to

void again, but it was empty. "Please, please, I'm so

sorry Olivia. Don't kill me . . . I don't' want to

die!" I cried helplessly.

I only heard the sound of her heartless laughter as

she finished speaking. "Then I realized there was

another choice. See, I could take my revenge on you

and Bill. Then I can have a little enjoyment while

I'm stuck here with the Pussy. Yes, I could have a

heavenly time with that."

"Please, please, Olivia. I didn't mean for it to

happen. I don't even see Bill anymore. I never will

again, I promise," I begged the ruthless spirit.

"Please, anything just leave me be."

"The pussy will spread her legs. I want to see the

cunt of the slut that fucked my husband!"

The thought of being so helpless before this vengeful

ghost terrified me. I was afraid that if she saw my

sex, the pussy that fucked her husband, she would fly

into a rage and kill me.

"Please, I'm not a slut. I've only been with two men

in my life," I tried to reason with her, but one of

the candles floated in the air and dumped its hot wax

on my breasts. "Owwww!" I screamed.

"Pussies that don't obey will be punished!" Olivia

cackled.

I tried to wipe the red trails of burning wax, from my

breasts, but I only spread it making it worse. I

looked at all the candles burning in the bathroom,

thinking of how much pain they could cause. I spread

my legs widely, exposing myself, baring the most

intimate part of my body, to this evil spirit.

Cold body wash was dumped onto my sex, then a razor

floated menacingly toward my crotch. "Please, please

don't cut me. I'm begging you." I sobbed as tears

flowed down my cheeks.

"The pussy needn't fear -- if she obeys." Olivia

said.

I closed my eyes and prayed as the razor slid over my

sex. As I lay there, spread open before the dead wife

of my lover, a terrible thing happened: To my horror,

my body had begun to react. My labia were swollen and

secretions dripped from my sex. I closed my eyes and

turned away, while the razor bared my lower lips and

trimmed the patch above.

Why me? Why me? Why is my body betraying me, before

the wife of my lover. In my mind, I could imagine my

clit sticking out, proving to her the kind of a slut I

really was. I was the kind of slut who slept with a

married man, the kind of slut who gets aroused by his

wife.

I felt relieved, when she cleaned the soap off my sex

with a washcloth. I looked down at her handiwork. My

lips had been shaven bare, but my dark pubes were now

trimmed in a circle topped by two ears. Dear god!

She's trimmed it into a cat -- a pussycat.

"Open it now. I want to see all of it," Olivia

demanded.

I brought my fingers down and spread my labia for the

evil spirit. I was humiliated with the knowledge,

that she would see that I was turned on.

"Is the pussy horny?" she asked, the venom practically

dripping from her voice when she said horny.

"No," I said as I shook my head blushing.

"Aiiiieeee!" I screamed as I felt the shock of molten

wax burn my sex. I tried to wipe the hot wax from my

tender lips, but I felt her cold bony fingers holding

my hands away. I squirmed uselessly in the tub in

agony.

Finally, the pain began to subside. The only sounds

in the bathroom were my sobs and ragged breath.

"Pussies mustn't lie. Open it again, for your new

owner!" Olivia demanded.

I had never felt so utterly helpless before. She had

said owner! I glanced down at my humiliating

position. Yes, she was my owner and I was a captive .

. . a slave to this invisible spirit. My legs opened

again and tenderly, to avoid the splashes of wax, I

parted the delicate petals of my pink flower.



"Is the pussy horny?" Olivia asked, as if she were

talking to a child.

"Yes ah I-I'm horny!" I replied meekly. Just please

don't get mad again.

"Yes, the pussy is horny Mistress," she corrected me

sternly.

"Yes, the pussy is horny Mistress," I replied. What

was worse, was that I really was horny. My clit stuck

out obscenely from my spread sex. Wherever in the

room Olivia was, I'm sure she could see the nectar

begin to drip from the pink folds of my pussy.

"I bet the pussy would like something inside her needy

cunt, wouldn't she?" Olivia asked, her voice sweet,

but slightly patronizing, once again.

If I had learned nothing else tonight, I had learned

to answer and obey Olivia without hesitation. "Yes

Mistress, the P-Pussy would like s-something in her

cunt," I sobbed.

"The pussy may get out of the tub now."

I got out of the tub, dried off, then picked up a robe

. . . "Aigh!" I cried looking down to see my nipple

being pinched between invisible fingers and then

pulled away from my body.

"The pussy shall remain naked in this house." Olivia

said, twisting my nipple to emphasize her point.

I cried out in pain from her mistreatment of my

sensitive orbs, but quickly dropped the robe. Her

pinch slackened, but did not release. Then she pulled

me forward by my nipple, leading me like a beast

through my apartment.

I was led by my nipple, past the open blinds of my

apartment, into my dining room. "The blinds!" I cried

out in embarrassment.

"What's wrong? The pussy was so eager to show off her

charms at the party," Olivia said, as she tugged my

nipple in a circle, causing me to pirouette for anyone

who might be looking.

Then she led me over to the dining room table. "Here

hold this, until I come back." She pinched my nipple

and pulled it up.

Hesitantly, I reached and took my nipple from her

grasp. It was hard and shots of pleasure shot through

my body as I grasped it. I burned with humiliation as

I stood there, obediently holding my breast stretched

out into the air for her. However, as much as I hated

to admit it, my body yearned for me to touch the other

one.

I watched in horror, as the small end of one of the

decorative gourds in a Halloween arrangement in the

center of the table, began to point into the air. The

green and white-striped fruit, looked perversely like

a penis sticking up.

"I believe the pussy was saying she needed something

to stick in her needy cunt." A vase spontaneously

exploded, when she said the word cunt. I jumped in

fear at this display of her anger. "She will do it on

her own or I will do it for her in another hole."

"Please Mistress, please." I pleaded with the cold-

hearted bitch. I trembled in fear and humiliation at

the thought of performing such an intimate act in

front of her. However, having the large knotty

bulbous fruit up my ass wasn't an option. I bent over

to pick up the gourd.

"The pussy knows what to do with it. She will do it in

front of the living-room widow, so she can learn the

embarrassment and humiliation I endured at the party."

There was no sympathy in her voice, just the coldness

of revenge. Nor could I look in her eyes to see any

of my pleading softened her.

Tears filled my eyes again, at the hopelessness of my

situation. "Please, not the in front of the window,

someone might see. Please, Mistress, I'll do

anything." I begged.

"The pussy has a choice. She will stick her new

friend in her cunt in front of the window or I ram it

up her ass, so hard she will have to wear diapers to

work. The pussy has three seconds to decide."

"Three"

"Two"

I grabbed a chair from the table and Olivia took my

nipple from my fingers and led me in front of the

window. I followed her, clutching the gourd to my

chest. It was a large, dry, bumpy gourd and I knew

without a doubt, I didn't want it in my ass.

I sat down in the chair and tried not to think about

the uncovered window. I began to insert the small end

of the gourd in my sex. It wasn't long until I could

feel my wetness flow. I looked out over the New York

skyline and the rain running down the glass, I

wondered who could see me, apparently sitting there by

myself, fucking my cunt with this yellow and green

phallus.

"Ugh!" I groaned, as I pushed it in deeper, its

coldness invading my cunt. I could feel every bump on

the curved gourd as it penetrated my stretched

opening. It felt surprisingly good.

"The big end goes first, if the pussy is to get it out

later," Olivia said.

I turned it around and looked at the big end. It was

so big! Why it was at least three inches in diameter,

there was no way I could fit it in my sex. However, I

knew my Mistress wasn't going to be satisfied until I

did as she commanded.

I spread my legs widely, resting my feet on the cold

glass of the window as I pushed my ass to the edge of

the chair. I opened myself as wide as possible

because the gourd was big. Much bigger than anything

I had ever imagined putting in my sex.

I turned the fruit around, trying to push the big end

past the tight grommet of my gate. Getting it started

was the hardest part, it was cold and it stretched my

poor pussy as I struggled to grow accustomed to its

girth.

I glanced at the window again and I could make out my

reflection. The woman in the reflection looked like

she trying to give birth in one of those

documentaries. However, instead of a baby coming out,

she was trying to cram the large end of a gourd into

her cunt.

I was mortified, yet a tiny part of me that I didn't

even know existed before, loved the reflection. She -

- I mean me, was getting what she deserved for acting

like a slut and screwing a married man. She was

getting what she had coming to her. Cumming, yes, I

wanted to cum. I wanted to cum on the bumpy flesh of

the gourd. I deserved the pleasure, pain, and

humiliation that I was receiving from Olivia. Olivia

couldn't hate me as much as I hated myself at that

moment.

A whine rose up in my throat, as I began to push the

gourd in. I pushed it painfully hard in an attempt to

punish myself. To punish the part of my body that had

caused this trouble. My flesh yielded and I was

filled to my capacity as the the large round base slid

home. I could feel an orgasm teasing me from my

stretched sex, just a little more and it will be all

mine, I thought as I began to push the gourd in a

little further.

"Hands off Pussy, I know what you are trying to do!"

demanded the vengeful voice of the spirit, before

breaking out in hysterical laughter.

Reluctantly, I obeyed my Mistress. As my pleasure

faded, reality once again returned. My mind recalled

the open window, the dead wife of my lover, and the

neck of the gourd sticking obscenely from my sex.

"Move your hands underneath your legs and spread

yourself wide. I'm sure the pussy is familiar with

that position." Olivia said superiorly.

Yes, I had been spread before . . . for her husband,

but that was different, that was making love, not

domination. The worse part of it was my body couldn't

tell the difference. It was almost as if it craved

the domination from Olivia more than the tender love

of her husband.

I reached under my legs and spread myself out for

anyone who may have been looking. I'm sure they could

have seen the top of the yellow-green phallus buried

in my cunt and the little winking eye of my ass.



"The pussy will sleep here tonight . . . just like

that."

I trembled in fear as I felt her cold invisible

fingers run between my thighs and grab the neck of the

gourd and begin to fuck me with short tiny strokes. I

tried to resist her . . . to think of driving in heavy

traffic or a busy day at work, but the pussy would not

be denied. My breath quickened, my lips parted, and my

breasts swelled. I began to rock in time with her

strokes. Olivia rewarded my participation and

submissiveness by increasing the speed and penetration

of her strokes.

Please don't let me cum, I begged my body. Please,

this is wrong, don't respond to this. I thought of

the people in the other building staring at the

perverted slut in the window, fucking the air. There

was no way they could know that I was being controlled

by a vengeful spirit I couldn't see or fight. They

would only see the slut, whose body was betraying her

once again. My bare feet pressed against the cold

glass, while my hips rose off the chair and humped of

their own volition.

"Ahhhh . . . " I groaned, as the gourd was suddenly

pushed extremely deep into my sex. I wished I could

cry, but instead of tears, I could only feel the wet

secretions drip from my sex, running down my cleft and

pool in the chair.

As much as I hated to admit it, admit it I did. My

Mistress took me to the edge, then back again.

Always, she kept me on the brink, but never quite far

enough to achieve climax. The pussy is horny, please

let the pussy cum. Please Mistress, your pussy needs

to cum so bad.

"Do you feel helpless Pussy? Can you imagine how

helpless I felt that night at the Halloween party?

Does the pussy want to cum? Can she feel how

desperate I was that night?" she asked my again and

again, as if I were a naughty nasty little girl.

"Yes! Yes! Yes! I'm so sorry Mistress . . . please

please . . . I'll do anything, I promise. Just

please, let the pussy *cum*!" I was a naughty girl.

I was a naughty girl who slept with her husband! I

was only a pussy that was desperate to cum!

"I'll hold you to that promise slut," she said, as she

fucked me relentlessly with the gourd.

As I climaxed, I felt something break in me as liquid

pleasure suddenly rushed forth from my sex. "Ahhhh .

. . Ahhhh . . . Yes . . . Fuck . . . Aiiiiieeeee!" I

screamed at the top of my lungs. I had never been a

screamer before, but then again, I had never cum

before . . . not like that.

Suddenly, I felt her cold body press on top of me; she

hugged me tightly, trapping me in the chair, as her

legs slipped under mine. I felt the bitter cold seep

down into the marrow of my bones, chilling my very

soul. My scream from my climax was cut off, as her

mouthed push against mine, stealing the breath from my

lungs. I gasped trying to suck it back, helplessly

accepting her probing tongue. I could feel my orgasm

explode, while I saw stars and my lungs burned.

Helplessly, I gave up my last breath to her . . .

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