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Message-ID: <32852asstr$1002399004@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: couture@literotica.org (Couture)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: 6 Oct 2001 14:26:50 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} NEW - The Haunting of Heather - Couture (FF, Fd, Mast, Ghost)
Date: Sat,  6 Oct 2001 16:10:04 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

The Haunting of Heather
By Pussy Kat
(c) 2001 Couture
   
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 it seemed 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.  "What's the matter, 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
stretched languidly, trying to look sexy, enticing 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 an 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 needy 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 . . .

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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