Perverts 'R' Us

Bloody Mary

By Danyealle ( M/F, supernatural )

Feeling foolish, he gazed into the mirror, seeing the red flush of his cheeks reflected back to him. "It's just an old myth, not real, nothings going to happen." He told himself as he stood there, staring at his own reflection.

Shaking his head, he composed himself and straightened up, sucking in his belly and throwing out his chest in a show of macho bravery. Taking a couple deep breaths, he locked eyes with his mirror image and slowly chanted, "Bloody Mary" thirteen times, slowly and deliberately. His face seemed to waver a bit in the mirror as the candle flickered but nothing had happened. No sign of any bloody vengeful ghost made an appearance. As a matter of fact, nothing happened other than him standing there staring into his reflection, feeling like a complete idiot for believing some old hocus pocus superstition.

Shaking his head, he lowered his gaze from the reflection and leaned back against the wall, folding his arms across his chest. Standing there, he grinned sheepishly at thought that before he did this he was actually a bit scared that it was going to work.

The whole thing had come about as a college assignment. What he had actually been doing was a paper on ghost stories and odd superstitions. Of all the papers he had to write this one was the most fun, it was entertaining to research where this stuff came from and that people actually believed in some of it. Asking around a bit, for a bit of research, he heard a lot of old ghost stories and other oddball urban legends he heard about the mirror ghost and the evil things she could do if summoned. While a lot what he had been told he had heard of but this one he hadn't. Therefore, he set out to see if he couldn't go about tracing its origins and what it was related to.

Soon he was enthralled with what he was reading, finding it most enjoyable. Digging around what he found out was that the legend was vast and the mirror ghost was attributed to many people. Mary I of England was said to be it because of all the people she had executed during her reign, earning her the nickname 'Bloody Mary'. Another person it was attributed to was Mary, Queen of Scots. However, why this was no one was sure because she had never been known to have participated in any murders. One part of the legend, bathing in young virgins' blood to stay young, would reasonably been attributed to the Countess Elizabeth Bathory but the mirror apparition was always called Mary, so that ruled her out.

The more he read of this ritual, the more he became curious as to if it would work. He had read many accounts of people trying it, but the results were split down the middle as to whether it had worked or not. But, knowing what he did about these types of legends, he knew not to take the accounts that said it worked too seriously. They had probably been told and retold so many times that the facts of what really happened were lost to the ages.

So tonight, after a few drinks, he decided to give it a go and see what happened. That would make a good part to his paper. As he darkened the room and lit the candle, he was actually shaking, afraid that it WOULD work and that something hideous and dangerous would show in the mirror. His stomach was actually in knots and his pulse raced as he prepared himself.

Standing there, he shook his head and grinned sheepishly. Nothing had happened, just like he had thought. After about ten minutes, he blew out the candle and prepared to go have another drink and lounge in front of the TV for the rest of the night. Just as he was about to walk out of the bathroom he glanced in the mirror and stopped cold. Stepping closer, he leaned over the vanity and stared into the reflective surface, mouth agape. Showing, instead of the darkened bedroom outside the bathroom door, was the face of a beautiful woman. Smiling softly, she winked at him. All he could do was stare at her, mouth agape. Her hair was long and slightly curly, a beautiful shade of red, her eyes were a deep green that seemed to sparkle even in the low light. So white was her skin that it was almost luminescent in the low light.

Taking a few steps back, he rubbed his eyes, not believing what he was seeing. Then, as he watched, slowly she stepped out of the mirror and seemed to glide to the floor. Standing less than a foot from him, her eyes locked with his and her smile seemed to get a bit bigger. While she had a human form and features, her body seemed washed out and faded, like a watercolor painting when it ages. Without saying anything, she reached out and took his hand. To him, her touch was cold and didn't feel like flesh, but was almost like what you felt during a thick fog, a bit eerie and clammy. Gripping his hand firmly, she stepped closer to him. She had to be 6' tall because she could look him straight in the eyes. It was then that she spoke for the first time. "You summoned me from the realm beyond, young sire." Those words hung in the air as she looked into his eyes. Like the rest of her there was something odd about her voice, it was thin and wispy, having a dampened tone to it, like they were talking in a padded room where sounds were absorbed.

Standing there, gazing into her eyes, he couldn't say anything. His tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth and all saliva seemed to have dried up. However, his heart was hammering so hard that he was sure it would burst any minute. Over and over, his mind screamed that this couldn't be happening; it had to be a hallucination brought on by the drinks he had.

Still smiling, she leaned forward and brushed her lips against his in a light kiss, making his skin prickle. Like her touch, there was something oddly ethereal about the kiss but that didn't seem to matter because when her lips pressed against his cock sprang to life, pressing against the fly of his jeans.

After breaking off the kiss, she took one step back and looked at him. Still, that small smile stayed in place. But her eyes had lit up, sparkling brightly. Tugging, lightly, on his hand, she led him into the bedroom. Standing next to his bed, she pressed tightly to his body, her hands stroking softly up and down his chest. In a breathy, semi-whisper she said, "Sire, it has been so long since I hath known the pleasures of the flesh. I miss them so! Would you, kind sire, please allow me that pleasure once more?" The accent she spoke with was easy to place, British. Not the cockney accent it is well known for, the accent of someone who was born into the upper class and had lessons that polished it. It snared him like a silken net, pulling him whether he wanted it or not. But, he did want it! Badly! For some unknown reason a pure lust raced through him like an out-of-control wildfire, searing his insides and making his cock throb like mad. While his brain kept screaming not to do it, that something was wrong with the whole situation, if it was real that is, that part he hadn't been able to get around yet. But another part of him said what the hell, let's do it, it's all a dream anyway. Locking his eyes with hers, he said a soft, lustful, "Yes Mary, yes!" then kissed her passionately, wrapping his arms around her thin waist.

When he broke off the kiss, she leaned over the bed, her ass sticking up in the air. Hiking up all the clothing she wore, the stays, petticoats, underclothing, etc. she revealed a firm, softly-rounded ass clad in old-fashioned pantaloons. Stepping closer to her, he hooked his thumbs in the waist of them and eased them down, revealing the austere whiteness of her backside. Kneeling behind her, he parted her red trimmed pussy lips with two fingers and gently ran his tongue up and down their delicate, velvety interior. Feeling and tasting her wetness on his tongue, that unmistakable taste of a female in heat, he closed his eyes. Heaven, pure heaven! He thought. With a skill that only comes with practice, his tongue started to manipulate her clit, rubbing and twirling around it softly, making goose flesh break out over her thighs and the rest of her body quiver as if she had a chill. With a practiced touch, he brought her to the brink only to stop and let her cool down. Repeatedly he did this until she was writhing all over, moaning and panting.

That is when he stood up and dropped his pants, allowing his throbbing dick to finally spring free. Putting one hand on her hip, he held onto her. With the other he gripped his cock around the bottom of the shaft and led it to her flowered open pussy lips then rubbed it up and down a couple times, her wetness coating it. Leaning over her back, the hand that was on her hip slithering under her stomach, holding her, he gently but firmly let himself slide into her. No woman he had ever been with felt like this. It was different, although there was a tight wetness to it; it was more like a gauzy piece of fabric then flesh. Nevertheless, it felt so good! Slowly, he moved in and out, his hand trailing down to play with her clit while the other held onto her. Slowly yet firmly, he moved himself in and out, his cock throbbing against her walls as he did.

Under him, she clutched the comforter with her long fingers, whimpering softly, eyes shut. Involuntarily her hips thrust back onto him, wiggling around a bit. Grunting a bit, he leaned over and kissed up and down the exposed parts of her alabaster neck, thrusting a bit rougher into her. As he walls clutched his twitching and throbbing flesh, he could feel them spasming a bit around it. It felt like they were trying to pull him in deeper and hold him there. With a strangled cry, he thrust all the way into her and erupted, filling her with his seed. But he never let his finger stop its work on her clit, rubbing and teasing it until she cried out and released, her walls clutching his cock then spasming madly on it.

She let him hold and kiss her a bit in the afterglow but quickly ended it. Standing up, she straightened her clothes then smiled at him. Without a word, she turned and walked to the bathroom. Before stepping back into the mirror to cross over to the realm she was from, she blew him a kiss and winked. Then she was gone, leaving nothing in the mirror except the reflection of his bedroom. Groaning, he flopped onto the bed on his back and shut his eyes, a small smile on his face.

"Well," he thought, "that legend WAS true, just some of the details were off, way off!" Chuckling a bit, he knew he could never put this into his paper, no one would believe him!

Authors Note: I'm sure many of you remember the 'Bloody Mary' bit from your childhood. I am also quite sure a lot of you tried it! However, you probably saw nothing but a jackass staring back at you when it was over, because that is exactly what you felt like for believing it and trying it! But, how scared were you to try it in the first place? That was part of the fun, being scared. The legend of 'Bloody Mary' has been around for a long time and scared countless generations of kids at sleepovers or late at night. That mirror woman will probably be around for generations from now when we are gone. Just a good bit of scary fun for kids! While where it came from is basically unknown and just a guess that doesn't matter to kids. That mirror always beckoned us to try.