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From: kellis <kellis@dhp.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Horny Ghosts {Varkel} (Mgg multMF oral fant) [7/7]
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Date: Fri, 06 Apr 2012 08:10:06 -0400
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Horny Ghosts
by Varkel
Spring, 2012


Chapter 7: _Kidnappers' End_

_Darryl Benton Parks_

We were becoming a small crowd.  I counted ten naked ghosts in the loose
group behind the two live men walking up the drive.  All of us except 
the two dead cops floated above them.  The cops drifted along on the 
same level as the living, even though I had given them the cook's tour 
of ghostliness.  When I said to the corporal, "You can see better up 
here," he responded, "I never could stand to fly."  A failure of 
imagination?

Mabel was our eleventh member but she must have stayed in the warehouse,
probably agonizing over her girls.  Then Emily and the priest, wherever
they were, made thirteen.

Interestingly from my altitude, about even with the warehouse roof, I 
could see trails forming in the tall weeds to left and right -- trails 
and bobbing heads.  The girls?  Who else could it be?

Kate, beside me, had seen them too.  "How could the girls escape?"

Merrie darted off to a spot above the closest one and called, "It's 
Jessie from the dance class!"

I looked at Jarvis, who had marched out beside Bailey to face the cops.
His head was hanging in what anyone else might believe was shame.

"How'd she get out?" demanded Jeff.  "That's bananas!  Something wild 
must've gone down!"  He scurried ahead into the warehouse.

"Fallen bananas?" mused Kate.

The living Wallis, with Bailey hurrying toward the gaping doorway, said,
"What're we gonna do with the girls?"

Bailey sniffed.  "Whatever we want.  You can be sure of one thing: we 
can't take 'em in that school bus to meet Casey."

"Why not?"

"No way to disguise it, you dork!"

"Some of them can fit in the SUV."

"If they're worth the trouble."

"You just gonna _leave_ them?"

Bailey grinned darkly.  "One way or the other."

Kate said to me, "Does he mean to kill them all?"

I shrugged.  "He's capable of it.  But it looks like most of them got 
away."

The two living men detoured around the dance teacher's body, lying 
sprawled in a large pool of blood.

"Where's the girls?" demanded Wallis, approaching the bus's open rear 
door.  He raised his voice.  "Hey, Bud!"

I swooped down and followed close behind as he leapt aboard the bus.  He
breezed past a woman's body, presumably Mabel's, folded across two 
seats.  I could see a man's feet and legs protruding into the aisle at 
the front.  Otherwise the bus was empty.  Through the windshield I saw 
two naked bodies, fucking like mad atop the hood.  Ghosts?  Was Mabel 
one of them?

Wallis bent over the man briefly before rising and calling to Bailey, 
waiting at the open door, "The girls is gone."

"Where's Bud?"

"He's dead."

"'Dead?'  Goddammit, is his dick hanging out?"

"Yeah."

"Then I know exactly what happened!"

"We get a lot better split!" observed Wallis, straightening up with a 
grin.

"What split?" demanded Bailey.  "Let's get out of here."

Bailey went around the bus; Wallis jumped out the front door over the 
driver's body.  I passed through and studied the two fuckers, 
recognizing the bus driver and the dance teacher.  I thought of giving 
them a thump but changed my mind.  The woman was half sunk into the 
sheet metal of the hood.  I now understood that one ghost cannot rape 
another.

Jeff hung near with a sniff, commenting, "Grownups fuck slow."

Ronson, one of the ex-cops, stood close by.  He said to me, "Thought 
they was a lot of high-school girls here."

"Most of them escaped into the weeds."

"Who's that fucking?"

"A pair of crooks.  The woman is the dance teacher."

He started toward them.  "Maybe I'll arrest them."

I shook my head.  "Didn't you listen?  No way can you hold them."

Apparently he thought I meant in jail.  He caught the driver by the arm
and pulled him off the woman.  Bud twisted his arm free and took a slug
at the cop but missed, probably because of the unfamiliar angle.  Ronson
jumped atop him, pressing him into the woman.  All three of them sank 
into the bus's engine compartment, leaving only kicking legs and the 
cop's ass visible.  In a way it was a comical sight.

Kirsten was the first to pop out.  She drifted up beside me, hand to 
mouth.  "What happened?"

The two men emerged from the radiator grill, Bud's hands clamped around
Ronson's throat.  Apparently unaffected, Ronson was throwing punches 
into Bud's midsection.  They quickly broke apart.

"Goddammit, who're you?" Bud demanded.

"The police.  You're under arrest."

Bud looked the naked man up and down.  "Your dick ain't big enough!"

"Big enough to handle a shithead!" declared the cop, launching himself 
again upon Bud.

Ronson's arms clamped the other's torso against his own, but the 
ex-driver clearly wanted to be elsewhere.  His body smoked away, 
crouched as if to run, then straightened up with a sneer.  "Like I said,
not big enough."

Ronson, baffled, looked at me.

"See?" I said.

"Is he greased?"

"More like smoke.  You can't hold a ghost unless he wants it."

Meanwhile Bailey and Wallis had entered the SUV.  Its engine started as
I slipped into its middle seat behind the front.  Bailey, driving, 
looked over his shoulder and backed the vehicle around in a half circle.

"Damn!" said Wallis, "I hate to let them girls go."

"You might be able to catch one or two, but more cops are bound to be 
here soon.  Or did you want to off them?"

"We could still use hostages."

"You saw what good that did."

Wallis subsided as the SUV roared out of the warehouse, bumping over 
Kirsten's body and rolling it aside.  It raced down the drive, slid into
the road and accelerated away from town with squalling tires.  The 
speedometer soon reached ninety on the two-lane road that twisted 
between the low hills.  Bailey was driving like a maniac, but I doubted
a wreck could hurt me.  My body followed the bounces and twists -- 
because I wanted it to? -- although I couldn't feel the seat under my 
buttocks.  Looking through the rear window, I could see no one floating
after us, which surprised me.  Do ghosts have a speed limit?

We rounded a curve.  Bailey cried, "Oh, shit!" and threw on the brakes.
Approaching us was a string of flashing blue lights.  We were hardly a 
couple miles from the warehouse.  But these cops were coming from the 
wrong direction!  Of course, I realized: highway patrol summoned by 
radio.

Mabel had never mentioned the SUV so I had never told Perry, and these 
rescuers couldn't have known of it.  But the SUV's speed and spin-out 
response revealed all.  That biblical phrase applied: "The guilty flee 
when no man pursueth," or something like that.

Bailey completed the reversal and quickly regained his speed: quite a 
feat of driving that surely they don't teach in the state prison!  The 
patrol cars were close behind us, however, now with sirens blaring.  The
road meandered through woodland and fields with nothing collateral to 
damage.  Presumably they didn't open fire because we might have had 
girls with us.

Wallis opened his window, leaned out and blazed away at the pursuers.  
Bailey sneered.  "You're wasting ammo."  I doubt Wallis could hear him 
above the high-speed rush of air.  Bailey's face showed nothing beyond 
determination.  This was one cool guy!

In an eye-blink we flashed by the abandoned police cars.  Around the 
next curve was an odd cloud of dust punctuated with blinking blue 
lights.  The cops from town!  Their lead cars were skidding into 
position as road blocks, both on and off the road.  We were boxed in.

Bailey leaned far over, grabbed Wallis's neck and pulled him back into 
his seat.  "Reload!" he yelled as he applied the brakes.

Wallis turned pale.  His chin sagged.  He braced on the dash against the
deceleration but otherwise did nothing.

While the SUV was still rolling forward, Bailey popped his door open.  
Instantly a patrol car smashed into us on that side.  Half a second 
later another crashed on Wallis's side.  It sounded like huge garbage 
cans slamming together, complete with the clatter of flying parts.  
Bailey began rapid-firing his pistol into the vehicle on his side.  
Having somehow lost his weapon, Wallis had slid down into the well 
between seat and dash.

The patrol cars had bounced away from us.  The speedometer reported us 
still rolling forward at 50 MPH.  The blocking police cars loomed.  When
the crash came, I continued on, sailing through the front of the SUV, at
least one police car and at least one policeman before I managed to 
stop.  Inertia operates strangely for ghosts!

Cops were getting out of cars.  Those closer in were firing their 
weapons into a man trying to flee the mangled SUV, whose driver's door 
was missing.  The man, Bailey, returned the fire briefly before 
collapsing, shirt already bloody.

I slipped closer.  Bailey was obviously dead.  One bullet had entered 
his right jaw, removing the back of his head.  Inside the crumpled SUV 
Wallis was balled into the shortened space under the dash between the 
front seat and the firewall, covered from living view by the deflating 
air bag.  I couldn't tell if he was still alive -- and cared less.

The patrol car that had struck us from the right had spun out short of 
the road block, but not so the one on the left.  It had smashed into one
of the blockers.  Curious, I checked above the air bag.  Bailey had 
managed to shoot this patrolman in the ear.  The emerging bullet had 
removed the ear on the other side.

I backed away and waited.  The cops were telling each other to hold 
their fire.  A man wearing captain's bars stood up in an open car door,
a microphone at his mouth.  His amplified voice boomed over the crowd of
cops.  "Get on down to that warehouse and find the girls!"

Cars were backing and filing all around me.  I zoomed up to spy the 
warehouse roof beyond nearby trees.  A couple of the patrol cars had 
rolled up the drive.  I would have gone to check on them except my 
curiosity was fixed locally.  Turning back, I saw two naked men staring
around as if lost, the natural attitude of new ghosts.  One was Bailey,
the other a stranger.  Presumably Wallis was still alive.

Bailey looked down at his ex-body, now surrounded by cops, who turned 
the corpse over on its back.  One said with a chortle, "This is Jerome 
Bailey.  Looks a little worse for wear."

"You know him?" said another.

"I made the arrest that put him away."

"Good for you.  You definitely won't have to do it again."

The naked stranger sidled up the captain with the microphone.  "Can you
talk to the highway patrol?" he asked.

Of course the captain, listening to the car's radio, ignored him.

When I tapped the stranger on the elbow, he turned to regard me, eyes 
widening at my nudity.  I said, "He can't hear you or see you.  None of
them can."

"But _you_ can!"

"Yeah.  I'm dead too."

He felt of his chest.  "'Dead?'  I don't feel dead.  You don't _look_ 
dead."

I pointed to his car.  "Your body is there."

He looked and gulped.  They were busy pulling him out of it.  His bloody
head was only too revealing.

Bailey drifted near us.  He was fast on the uptake.  "We're dead, aren't
we?"

The ex-patrolman's eyes narrowed.  "You were driving that SUV, you son 
of a bitch."

"Yeah.  And I saw one round get you in the ear."

The cop took a swing -- and connected!  Bailey bounced away, feeling of
his jaw.  It seems that ghosts can cause each other pain when it's 
unexpected.

Bailey said, "Nothing personal.  If I'm dead I've paid the price."

I noted that the cop didn't need to rub his knuckles.  He stared at 
Bailey thoughtfully.

Here were two more neophytes for me to educate.


* * *


Corrigan eased his long, fat prick, marvelously still erect, from within
Emily's bubble butt, doing it slowly, savoring the sensation.  For an 
unmeasured time he had repeatedly fucked the kid in each of her three 
orifices to the undiminished delight of both.  He was not exhausted and
neither was she.  But, although he relished her firm, youthful body and
had experienced sexual ecstasy beyond his most sinful dreams, satiety of
her charms had reared its unsavory head.

He was confident of discovering other youngsters -- beautiful, pubescent
boys and pre-teen girls.  And it would not be shameful, much less 
sinful, so long as they were ghosts.  He felt that he was in heaven, 
although not the one his Christian beliefs had led him to anticipate.

Looking around himself, however, he was impressed by a discrepancy: the
lack of observable structure to this world of ghosts intermingling with
living people.  The sky was not filled with spirits of the departed.  
The only ghosts he had encountered were recently dead, which caused him
to ponder.  Where were the representatives of the billions who had gone
before?  World War II should have clogged the skies with them, even the
Missouri skies!

A simpering Emily, no longer reserved if she had ever been, took hold of
his male member.  "The staff of the Lord!  I love this thing."

Annoyed at the interruption, he said testily, "And well you should, my 
child.  Lately it has been yours as often as mine."

She bent, kissed the tip and began to lick it.  The good father 
discovered that satiety was temporary.  Her shape might bore him now but
never this action!  Amazingly she contrived an orientation that included
swallowing his entire masculine equipment while impaling her vulva on 
his nose.  This child had unappreciated talents!

Suddenly they were startled by the sound of a booming voice that came 
from no particular direction.  It was louder than a power hailer but 
curiously without echo.

"Listen up, people!" it said.

"It's the voice of God!" Emily cried after spitting out his cock.

Corrigan was not so certain, although the voice was both authoritative 
and imperious. He released the girl from his fondling embrace and looked
around.

"Follow the light!"

Just above them appeared a vortex of brilliant illumination that sucked
into space itself.  Lines that were slight variations of intensity 
spiraled into its center, seemingly drawing Corrigan and Emily up 
without volition.  Other nude ghosts gathered toward it on the periphery
of his vision.

Fearing the worst, Corrigan pulled the girl to him for what he thought 
might be his last fuck before hell.  Emily, face alight, cupped his butt
cheeks as she thrust forward to meet the plunge of his fat dick.

"Are we going to Jesus now?" she asked in a delirious voice that 
presaged orgasm.

"Perhaps not," he grunted, spewing his tenth discharge, copious despite
having all occurred within a short time period.  Both howled in ecstasy.

Around them the other ghosts, nearly two dozen of them, clustered before
the light.  A short, bald male, whose withered skin seemed extremely 
old, hovered above the crowd, sporting a thin goatee.  Thick lips 
sneered at them.  The large bent nose resembled that of an American 
aborigine.

"I am Xlotl of Caral," he announced loudly.  "You don't know me, and you
do not want to know me.

"Why is that?" Corrigan asked.

Xlotl sneered at the man.  "Monsignor Corrigan, the Jesuit.  I suggest 
you remain silent, because you do not represent these departed among us
nor are you sufficiently informed."

"You are no less a ghost," Corrigan shouted, "and you have a nub of a 
prick!"

"I sired the Inca, you dolt!  I am, as you impudently state, deficient 
in what you obviously possess in richness.  And although I haven't 
sprayed my seed in five thousand years, whereas you have done so quite 
recently, my cock can rise to a mighty bludgeon that would rip your 
asshole bloody."

"I'm sorry, Kotex ...."

"Xlotl!"

"Forgive my usage, sir.  I do not wish to cause trouble, but you are 
obviously not a Christian as are the rest of us."

"Not all of us," sounded a voice from the crowd.  "I'm an atheist!"

"Yes, of course we have our dissidents, but the point is that we are now
dead and we have certain expectations."

"Expectations?" the gnome thundered.  "You have no idea!"

"What I'm asking, Xlotl, does the afterlife include reward and 
punishment?"

"How pedestrian!  You think that butt fucking a young teen is cause for
punishment?  Is that your concern?"

"Yes, actually."

"Let me assure you, Monsignor, that your adult fascination for hairless,
pubescent children is of no concern to the world you are about to enter.
In fact, you and all of us are sexually free -- from goats to pumpkins 
as one of our wits remarked so long ago.  That is, of course, if such be
your desire.  Many have found satisfaction in the realm of Hell, if you
are of that persuasion."

"There is truly a hell?"

"It's a matter of choice, Corrigan.  I dwelt there a couple of thousand
years before orgasms became mundane.  Then I chose a more spiritual 
existence.

"Choose Hell, man," Xlotl continued.  "Pleasure yourself with pubescent
boys and little girls.  You'll soon lose interest."

The gnome then turned to the others.  "Line up, folks.  We'll begin the
processing now.  Sorry for the delay.  We were briefly overwhelmed by an
influx of spirits from an Indonesian tsunami and a Chilean earthquake.
Don't push.  There's plenty of time."


_Darryl Benton Parks_

So a tsunami and an earthquake were the reason we remained here for 
hours after dying!  I called with a chuckle, "It was a Denial of Service
Attack, eh?"

The gnome looked at me askance.

Another thought occurred to me.  "So heaven lacks infinities, does it?"

In a subdued tone he said, "Infinity is a mathematical concept."

The line of ghosts was floating upward.  I thought it curious that 
Bailey was near the head, following just after the priest and Emily, my
wayward love.  Kate had released my arm to move forward with the others,
but Mabel had taken her place.

She said petulantly, "Darry, I want to use my Morse Code!"

Mabel, a quick study, was a plump and buxom woman with a pleasant 
demeanor.  I nodded at her.  "Would you like to say goodbye to Perry?"

"The reporter?"

I tilted my head.  "He's down there, interviewing the rescued girls."

My arm encircled her back and my hand enclosed an overflowing tit.  She
looked down at it but did not pull away.  Her continuing palpability 
under my palm suggested at least a lack of displeasure.

She said, "Can we get his attention when he's so busy?"

"We may have to wait awhile," I said with what I thought was a 
suggestive smile.

"Quit leering," she ordered -- but with a giggle.

Your arm around a woman beside you can easily impart a direction if 
she's a hovering ghost.  I pulled her away from the shuffling line.

She looked worried.  "Don't we have to obey that creep?"

I had to chuckle.  "Well said!  I've been telling everybody you can't 
coerce a ghost.  Guess we'll find out if it's true."

Suddenly Xlotl descended upon us, face even with ours.  I saw that he 
was perhaps taller than we, although with the wrong proportions.  His 
head was large, face wider and longer than ours with glittering eyes 
farther apart.  They say the adult human body is five heads tall.  I 
would guess him to be four, even with the enlarged head.  In fact, I 
realized, out newfound guide was more than slightly grotesque.

He gestured.  "Get yourselves back in line!"

I twisted away, pulling Mabel with me.  She followed docilely.

He jumped in front of us.  "What ails you pair?"  He pointed upward.  
"The light is your destination."

"Says who?" I snapped, as I customarily had done on the playground.

He threw out his shriveled chest.  "You challenge my authority?  Beware,
human, lest I smite you with Tlaloc's fiery shaft!"

"Tlaloc who?"

He stared at me and mumbled, "A god from your neighborhood."  Then I 
remembered something from Precolumbian Culture 101: Tlaloc, the Aztec 
god of lightning among other things.  Was Xlotl no longer hung up on 
sex?

But I was already dead.  Would electricity tingle a ghost?  I said, 
"Smite away, your highness," and pulled Mabel around him.  He floated in
place with a frown, watching us recede.

At some distance Mabel whispered to me, "Can we go to the light later?"

I shrugged.  "Maybe, maybe not.  It may just be ignorance on my part, 
but I can't see too much wrong with our current existence, can you?"  I
squeezed the tit still in my hand.  "Haven't you noticed?  We must've 
been dead for several hours by now.  Have you felt a need to urinate?  
To eat or drink?  Even to breath?"

"Well ..."

"And we have this."  I put her hand on my cock, already rising.  Her 
fingers wrapped around it immediately.

She smiled at me.  "And we feel no pain."

"I think we _can_ feel pain if it's a surprise."

"But I think it no longer control us."

"You may be right."

"And neither does embarrassment."

She actually blushed.  I'd still like to know how bloodless ghosts can 
do that!

She continued, "I've always admired men's confident way with women.  So
I tried it myself.  The bus driver was waving his thing around like he 
meant to rape the girls still on the bus.  So I stooped and ... took it
in my mouth."

I was interested.  "Could you feel it?"

"Oh, yes!  It was nice as my husband's, with no pee taste.  A penis is 
exciting to have in your mouth.  I don't know anything that feels 
better.  But I didn't get to keep it."

"What happened?"

"I thought I must have bit him, but brave Nelly had seen he was 
distracted and snatched the gun out of his pocket.  They wrestled in the
front of the bus and she shot him to death."

"So that's how the girls got freed!"

"Yes, it is.  She took charge and scattered them outside into the 
weeds."

"I knew about them in the weeds, but ...  Mabel, that's marvelous!  What
a wonderful sacrifice!"

"Thank you."  Her eyes lowered.  "But in fact, Darry, it was no 
sacrifice.  When I saw that big thing waving, I wanted it.  And I took 
it."

I smiled at her.  "And shrugged off a lifetime of female diffidence, 
right?"

"After shrugging off a life.  Well, not exactly 'shrugging.'"

I looked behind us.  The line of ghosts had vanished into the light.  
Xlotl still lingered below it, peering after Mabel and me.  I waved at 
him but he didn't respond.

Mabel giggled.  "Do you suppose we're making him miss his quota?"

"Could be."

"How long will he wait, do you think?"

I shrugged.  "Here's a nice spot."  I pulled her down into the top of a
tall tree.  "This will give you the illusion of privacy even from Xlotl
-- not that we need it."

"First let's find Perry."

"Haven't you noticed?  If you wish for anything, you float to it 
directly."

"Really?  People too?"

"Anything.  Probably even that white light...  Let's dally here awhile.
Perry isn't approachable in that crowd.  We should give him time to get
back to his office.  Of course you can always practice your Morse on my
cock."

Her eyes lit.  "Let me try it this way."

Her mouth descended to my dick but didn't engulf it.  Instead she caught
it in her hand and licked the head, slow licks alternating with long 
ones, and looked up expectantly.

I said, "Do it again."

Concentrating, I made out her intent: LICK ME TOO

"Mabel, you are truly a horny ghost!"

With a laugh I spun her around and enjoyed my first 69 in a tree top.  
Horny ghostlitude: what a wonderful death!  Jimmy Stewart could keep his
"wonderful life."

But sweet ointments attract flies.  At the worst possible moment ours 
took the form of a wrinkled gnome.

"This won't do, people," Xlotl said, suddenly appearing beside us in the
tree.  "You're making an uninformed decision that has dire 
consequences."

"What are you talking about, you ugly gnome?" I shouted.  "You just 
thwarted my orgasm!"

"Do you choose oblivion, fools?  That shall be your fate if you don't 
get your asses into that light hole."

"Oblivion?" Mabel said.  "What do you mean?"

"The departed and the living cannot co-exist, except temporarily in 
special circumstances like the present one.  If you remain here after I
leave, you'll go 'poof.'"

"'Poof?'"

"Yes.  You'll lose consciousness for eternity."

Mabel looked at me and sighed.  "Come on, Darry.  Let's go to Hell."

"Just a minute," I protested.  "Xlotl, that doesn't make sense."

The gnome shook his head resignedly.  "Asshole, I'll have you know that
what I say is the very definition of sense!"

"Not in this case," I declared, confident in demeanor at least.  "We 
co-existed with the living before you arrived.  Why should we go 'poof'
when you depart?"

He shook his head slowly.  "All right.  I won't force you to come.  And
it'll be no satisfaction to me when you go 'poof' with no understanding.
You two remind me of children shooting tawdry marbles when a glittering
playground waits around the corner."

"Is that what heaven is: 'a glittering playground?'"

"It's anything you want, and I do mean anything.  But don't call it 
heaven."

"Why not?"

"Beyond that gate you'll understand all the reasons."  He tilted his 
head toward the white tunnel that still hung above us.

"Including what could send us poofing when you lift off?"

"Everything."

Mabel looked at me in warning.  "Don't push it, Darry."  She released my
arm and oriented herself erect before the gnome.

The bird in hand had always been more attractive than a flock in the 
bush.  In this case, assuming Xlotl was full of shit, and though I could
always get willing birds among the living, without Mabel I'd have no one
to brag to.  Perry didn't count.  Damned if I would suck his cock!

I stood up beside her.  "Lead on, MacXlotl.  You win."

He grinned.  "No, you do.  They're even hornier beyond the gate."

END

Contacts:
kellis@dhp.com
ludmax11@hotmail.com <Varangian>

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