Ghostly Vengence
Posted: Sat Sep 06, 2008 12:16 pm
Ghostly Vengeance
By Seasick
"No," Alyson said as she slapped her boyfriend's foot from between her legs. Of course with it came a stern look, but Alyson's steadfast resolve was lost when he looked into her eyes and caught a hint of lust.
"But Alyson," he pleaded, ignoring her gesture and slipped his foot up under the hemline of her skirt and began to trace lines of her labia against her stretched panties. All attempts at stopping his foot were thwarted however when he again pushed against her labia and twisted it with passion. For over a minute, only the sounds of his foot gliding under her skirt could be heard as the two enjoyed each other’s company at the kitchen table of her parent’s home.
"God I need you Alyson," he said when their footsie session paused for a breath.
"Me too, but we can't do it here, my parents are home."
“There are ways,†he said as he looked down at the floor with a big grin spreading over his face. He did not have to spell out exactly what he wanted, Alyson already knew. It was no secret that Scott had a foot fetish and she had gotten him off with a footjob several times. It would still be risky, but if her mother came in, she could pull her feet out of Scott’s lap and her mother would be none the wiser.
Answering her boyfriend by placing her foot in his lap, Alyson was not surprised when he did not even bother to unlace her sneakers. They were made by Keds; and soft soled and made of white canvas; they easily slipped off her foot without having to be untied. Her white slouch socks were next, and Alyson had to grin as Scott gripped the sock with nervous anticipation and slowly pulled the white cotton off her foot. Rewarded with five cute toes painted delicately with a bright red toe nail polish, Scott would have swooped down to kiss each one if he had been flexible enough to reach it. As it was, Alyson pulled her foot out of his lap and quickly replaced it with her other foot. Once Scott had tugged off her other shoe and pulled off her sock, Alyson was a bit more relieved. It was one thing to be wearing shoes in the house, or to be in bare feet, but to be caught with one shoe on and one shoe off would have required some difficult explaining to her mother.
“God I love it when you’re barefoot Alyson.â€
“I know. Barefoot and pregnant huh?â€
“Well I don’t know about that,†he said as he gently steered her feet towards his pants that he hastened to pull the zipper down of.
“Well we got to start using something or I will get pregnant. We didn’t use anything last time, or the time before that.â€
“Well you won’t get pregnant doing this,†he said as he felt his girlfriends beautiful bare feet slip inside his open pants and touch his ever hardening cock.
While she had given Scott several footjobs, this one was replete with eroticism. They were in her parent’s home for one; her mother just upstairs cleaning out a closet while her father was outside mowing the lawn. Having to work her foot within the tight constraints of his pants was yet another. Several times as her toes ran along his twitching shaft, Alyson felt his zipper cut into the top of her foot. It would have been much easier if he had unsnapped his pants and unzippered them, bringing down the tops of his jeans for better access, but that would have been more difficult to explain if her mother came down the stair, or her father finished the lawn mowing.
So Alyson used her toes, positioning his cock as best she could between her big toe and fourth toe and rubbed the underside of his shaft from balls to tip. She used a lot of pressure, forcing him back hard against the wooden chair, but also letting him feel every inch of her bare feet along his shaft.
“You like thatâ€, she asked, but already knew the answer? His eyes were rolled back into his head as an indicator, and his hands were instinctively on her feet, pulling them up and over his shaft in a frenzied torrent of movement. Alyson slipped her other foot into his lap, and while there was not enough room for both of her feet to be inside his pants, it at least gave him something to hold onto, and something for him to see. In honesty, it was probably the latter point that was more important. Alyson had woefully fair complexion, and even with hours spent in the sun, the tops of her feet were white. This contrasted greatly with her bright red toe nail polish that Scott insisted she always wear.
Now looking down, he saw her perfectly manicured toes semi-poised as she pointed them straight out and let him see a lot of her feet taunt in muscular strain. More importantly however, was her other foot dancing its magic lap dance within his pants, pressing and stroking, sliding and moving along his shaft in erotic circles. Alyson also used just the right amount of pressure, and varied the strokes from long to short just to encourage interest.
Scott wanted nothing more to swoop down and bring both of her feet into play. To have his pants pulled off, the two of them naked in bed would have been the ultimate footjob, but for the moment he knew he had to be content with what he had. Alyson was at least willing to please him; here within her parent’s home when either parent could have popped in.
“Alyson….’, he said dragging her name out as a warm sensation began to over take him.
“It’s okay honey, you can come on my feet. I don’t mind.â€
Her words were so honest, so sweet, so sincere that it was all Scott could do to hold back. In one last effort of consciousness, he pushed her foot down so that her toes were covering the top of his shaft and began to come. Instantly Alyson felt the hot sticky jism splattered endlessly onto the tops of her toes and land and ooze within the four crevices five toes created. She kept her feet positioned as they were for a moment, ensuring he was indeed spent, and then when his grip on her feet began to relax; she ran her feet along his softening shaft for a few strokes before pulling it out of his open zipper.
As she held her feet up off the floor, she reached under the table for her socks and shoes, and slipped on her slouch socks before her boyfriend’s come made a telltale dollop of mess upon her mother’s kitchen floor.
‘Thank you,†he said as his senses began to come back to him. “I really needed that.â€
“I didn’t mind,†she said with a grin, as a beam of reddish sunlight shot through the sliding glass door of the colonial home and pooled on the wide pine floorboards of the kitchen as Alyson moved from the kitchen table. The light was fading into night, but she could see well enough to saunter across the hardwood floor feeling her boyfriends jism slowly soak into her white socks as she did so. Her mother had an antique highboy she kept for her better stationary and Alyson was intent on getting a couple of pencils for more serious studying now that his attention had returned to normal.
She smiled at her reflection in the glass doors, her skin replete with a tan from the long days of sunning herself over the summer. She was not sure if the reflected image on the glass was magical or just mystifying, but it seemed to be the only furniture in the house whose reflection she did not take exception to. Even though it was not a mirror per se, her hips, stomach and thighs all looked more slender, her facial features more defined and younger looking.
Alyson pressed forward, literally squishing her chest upon the upper drawers of the highboy she tried to peer in the uppermost drawer. As she did, her movements dislodged a key that had been hidden safely behind the drawer for decades. Picking it up, one of the facets on the shiny key reflected a glimmer of light and Alyson quickly applied it to the lock on the front to the highboy and opened up each drawer.
All were empty of anything but normal, mundane things, but curiously, the bottom drawer rattled. Alyson investigated further by prying the drawer carefully out of the opening and looked carefully at the back. As she had expected, the drawer contained a false bottom and she removed it to see a diary waiting for decades to be discovered.
"Great Grandma's Diary," she said aloud when she read the name stitched into the front.
"What," her boyfriend asked as he groggily rubbed the endless pages of his text book from his eyes?
"I found my Great Grandmother's diary hidden in this drawer," she said with obvious excitement. As he rubbed his eyes, Alyson began to turn page after page, scanning the handwritten pages with quickness and interest. Lost in the content of the diary, Alyson was oblivious to the fact that she was supposed to be studying for a test.
"Oh my God,†she said upon seeing an important discovery. “She was having an affair with a Judge, a married judge at that."
"So what, he wanted a little on the side. No big deal."
"It was big back then," she said and continued to read. After a few minutes of silent reading, Alyson began to talk to her boyfriend again.
"It says here that the affair was discovered by the Judge's wife and that she demanded retribution. My Great Grandmother was then accused of witchcraft within the span of a week."
Alyson was shocked by these words, but when she looked at her boyfriend to whom she was speaking, she saw his eyes were again locked onto his text book. Ignoring him she turned to the last entry in the diary and read it silently.
"Oh dear diary, what have I done? What have I done? What should have been true love and companionship has turned into heartbreak, for this is my last entry. I shall give this to my sister for safe keeping and swing from the gallows at noon. Oh Lord what have I done?
Alyson was astonished at these words. She had heard about her Great Grandmother's trial of witchcraft, but this turn of events was too much. She bolted from the kitchen, her pleated skirt and tight fitting top was skewed and rumpled looking, but Alyson did not care as she grabbed her sneakers and quickly thrust her feet into them, without bothering to even lace them, she grabbed her Great Grandmother's diary and bounded out the sliding glass door, forgetting all about her boyfriend.
"Alyson. Alyson, where are you going," but his words were lost as a dust-devil followed her across the driveway.
Twenty minutes at a hard jog brought Alyson to the Town of Bucksport's main street cemetery. Judge Buck, the founder of the town, had a prominent head stone at the head of the cemetery overlooking the river. In front of it stood a heavy chain to keep the tourists from touching the legendary monument. Alyson dipped below this chain and read the brass plaque out loud.
"John Buck, born in 1719 in Massachusetts, he was granted a parcel of land in what is now Maine. Buck had dark, penetrating eyes and was a man of strong convictions. And was also the Justice of the Peace."
"A woman was accused of witchcraft and brought before Colonel Buck. She was then condemned to death. As the noose was placed around her neck, she uttered this curse," Jonathan Buck, listen to these words, the last my tongue shall utter. In the spirit of the only true and living God I speak to you. You will soon die. Over your grave they will erect a stone that all may know where the bones of the mighty Jonathan Buck are crumbling to dust. But listen, all ye people, and may your descendents ever know the truth. Upon that stone will appear the imprint of my foot, and for a long time after your accursed race has perished from the earth the people will come from afar to view the fulfillment and will say: There lies the man who murdered a woman. Remember well, Jonathan Buck, remember well."
"After the Colonel died, his grave was marked by an ordinary marker. In 1852, Buck's descendents decided to erect a larger, more elegant monument to better honor Bucksport's namesake. That is when the curse came to bear."
"An exceptionally clean, unblemished piece of granite was chosen. Nevertheless, one morning the townspeople noticed the unmistakable mark of a leg and a foot on the front of the monument! It was assumed that it was done by vandals, and they attempted to have the monument cleaned with some kind of solution, but nothing work. They also tried to gouge it out, but it returned, and the monument was even replaced three times, but the image returned every time."
"But it's wrong. The legend of Bucksport is all wrong," Alyson cried out just as a gust of wind kicked up and began to blow the oak leaves of the cemetery trees around in an eerie cyclone. It brought a cold chill to Alyson's meagerly covered skin, giving her the same strange goose bumps that had occurred in the kitchen. As she turned to rush out of the frightening cemetery, a strange soothing voice began to call her name.
"Alyson, dear Alyson, please don't leave. You're the first mortal I have spoken to in fifteen decades. Please stay, please; you are the only one in our family who can take vengeance against our family's past."
It took all of Alyson's nerve to turn and face the voice she heard. She was not sure what to expect, but she held her Great Grandmother's diary close to her heart as she spun on one foot and watched a white apparition come closer from the back of the headstone and revealed itself before her very eyes. It shimmered a white translucent color, but did not approach any closer than five feet or so.
"Who are you and how do you know who I am, or about my family's history?"
"I'm your Great Grandmother Alyson. The one that penned the very ink in that diary you are holding...the one who was murdered...the one who has been waiting for a family member to discover that diary and extract revenge."
"Revenge?"
"Revenge my dear," and as she spoke, Alyson felt a strange sensation, a mixture of warm and hot liquid burst forth and rest upon her stomach. Instantly she stepped back.
"This is really giving me the creeps."
"I was only touching the child Alyson. The Great Great Grandson of Jonathan Buck."
"But I've never done anything of the sort with anyone who is a Buck."
"No, no you haven't my child, but you have with a Blake. A Scott Blake to be exact, your boyfriend whose mother was a Buck before getting married, making the child within you...
"Jonathan Buck's Great Great Grandson."
"Correct, and now it's our family's turn to extract justice Alyson."
"And just how do you propose I do that," she asked in a huff, crossing her arms at the apparition of her all-knowing Great Grandmother?
"The answer is in the wind my dear," and with those words the white silhouette disappeared into the darkened evening.
As a bright pink glow settled upon the western horizon, Alyson noticed her goose bumps were gone. The only thing her Great Grandmother had left behind was a heavy breeze that eddied around the schoolgirl, and then only for a minute. Just as quickly as she disappeared, so did the wind. As Alyson went to bolt from the frightening cemetery, a lime green brochure lay at her feet. She paused again, hearing the last words of her Great Grandmother echo in here ears as she stooped over to pick it up. "The answer is in the wind my dear. The answer is in the wind..."
Alyson was trembling as she picked up the bright green brochure. Flipping it over, she was startled by what she read. ABORTION IS MURDER! the brochure from a religious conservative group proclaimed in bold black ink.
"Oh my God," she gasped in horror at the unmistakable wish of her Great Grandmother.
"Oh my God!"
By Seasick
"No," Alyson said as she slapped her boyfriend's foot from between her legs. Of course with it came a stern look, but Alyson's steadfast resolve was lost when he looked into her eyes and caught a hint of lust.
"But Alyson," he pleaded, ignoring her gesture and slipped his foot up under the hemline of her skirt and began to trace lines of her labia against her stretched panties. All attempts at stopping his foot were thwarted however when he again pushed against her labia and twisted it with passion. For over a minute, only the sounds of his foot gliding under her skirt could be heard as the two enjoyed each other’s company at the kitchen table of her parent’s home.
"God I need you Alyson," he said when their footsie session paused for a breath.
"Me too, but we can't do it here, my parents are home."
“There are ways,†he said as he looked down at the floor with a big grin spreading over his face. He did not have to spell out exactly what he wanted, Alyson already knew. It was no secret that Scott had a foot fetish and she had gotten him off with a footjob several times. It would still be risky, but if her mother came in, she could pull her feet out of Scott’s lap and her mother would be none the wiser.
Answering her boyfriend by placing her foot in his lap, Alyson was not surprised when he did not even bother to unlace her sneakers. They were made by Keds; and soft soled and made of white canvas; they easily slipped off her foot without having to be untied. Her white slouch socks were next, and Alyson had to grin as Scott gripped the sock with nervous anticipation and slowly pulled the white cotton off her foot. Rewarded with five cute toes painted delicately with a bright red toe nail polish, Scott would have swooped down to kiss each one if he had been flexible enough to reach it. As it was, Alyson pulled her foot out of his lap and quickly replaced it with her other foot. Once Scott had tugged off her other shoe and pulled off her sock, Alyson was a bit more relieved. It was one thing to be wearing shoes in the house, or to be in bare feet, but to be caught with one shoe on and one shoe off would have required some difficult explaining to her mother.
“God I love it when you’re barefoot Alyson.â€
“I know. Barefoot and pregnant huh?â€
“Well I don’t know about that,†he said as he gently steered her feet towards his pants that he hastened to pull the zipper down of.
“Well we got to start using something or I will get pregnant. We didn’t use anything last time, or the time before that.â€
“Well you won’t get pregnant doing this,†he said as he felt his girlfriends beautiful bare feet slip inside his open pants and touch his ever hardening cock.
While she had given Scott several footjobs, this one was replete with eroticism. They were in her parent’s home for one; her mother just upstairs cleaning out a closet while her father was outside mowing the lawn. Having to work her foot within the tight constraints of his pants was yet another. Several times as her toes ran along his twitching shaft, Alyson felt his zipper cut into the top of her foot. It would have been much easier if he had unsnapped his pants and unzippered them, bringing down the tops of his jeans for better access, but that would have been more difficult to explain if her mother came down the stair, or her father finished the lawn mowing.
So Alyson used her toes, positioning his cock as best she could between her big toe and fourth toe and rubbed the underside of his shaft from balls to tip. She used a lot of pressure, forcing him back hard against the wooden chair, but also letting him feel every inch of her bare feet along his shaft.
“You like thatâ€, she asked, but already knew the answer? His eyes were rolled back into his head as an indicator, and his hands were instinctively on her feet, pulling them up and over his shaft in a frenzied torrent of movement. Alyson slipped her other foot into his lap, and while there was not enough room for both of her feet to be inside his pants, it at least gave him something to hold onto, and something for him to see. In honesty, it was probably the latter point that was more important. Alyson had woefully fair complexion, and even with hours spent in the sun, the tops of her feet were white. This contrasted greatly with her bright red toe nail polish that Scott insisted she always wear.
Now looking down, he saw her perfectly manicured toes semi-poised as she pointed them straight out and let him see a lot of her feet taunt in muscular strain. More importantly however, was her other foot dancing its magic lap dance within his pants, pressing and stroking, sliding and moving along his shaft in erotic circles. Alyson also used just the right amount of pressure, and varied the strokes from long to short just to encourage interest.
Scott wanted nothing more to swoop down and bring both of her feet into play. To have his pants pulled off, the two of them naked in bed would have been the ultimate footjob, but for the moment he knew he had to be content with what he had. Alyson was at least willing to please him; here within her parent’s home when either parent could have popped in.
“Alyson….’, he said dragging her name out as a warm sensation began to over take him.
“It’s okay honey, you can come on my feet. I don’t mind.â€
Her words were so honest, so sweet, so sincere that it was all Scott could do to hold back. In one last effort of consciousness, he pushed her foot down so that her toes were covering the top of his shaft and began to come. Instantly Alyson felt the hot sticky jism splattered endlessly onto the tops of her toes and land and ooze within the four crevices five toes created. She kept her feet positioned as they were for a moment, ensuring he was indeed spent, and then when his grip on her feet began to relax; she ran her feet along his softening shaft for a few strokes before pulling it out of his open zipper.
As she held her feet up off the floor, she reached under the table for her socks and shoes, and slipped on her slouch socks before her boyfriend’s come made a telltale dollop of mess upon her mother’s kitchen floor.
‘Thank you,†he said as his senses began to come back to him. “I really needed that.â€
“I didn’t mind,†she said with a grin, as a beam of reddish sunlight shot through the sliding glass door of the colonial home and pooled on the wide pine floorboards of the kitchen as Alyson moved from the kitchen table. The light was fading into night, but she could see well enough to saunter across the hardwood floor feeling her boyfriends jism slowly soak into her white socks as she did so. Her mother had an antique highboy she kept for her better stationary and Alyson was intent on getting a couple of pencils for more serious studying now that his attention had returned to normal.
She smiled at her reflection in the glass doors, her skin replete with a tan from the long days of sunning herself over the summer. She was not sure if the reflected image on the glass was magical or just mystifying, but it seemed to be the only furniture in the house whose reflection she did not take exception to. Even though it was not a mirror per se, her hips, stomach and thighs all looked more slender, her facial features more defined and younger looking.
Alyson pressed forward, literally squishing her chest upon the upper drawers of the highboy she tried to peer in the uppermost drawer. As she did, her movements dislodged a key that had been hidden safely behind the drawer for decades. Picking it up, one of the facets on the shiny key reflected a glimmer of light and Alyson quickly applied it to the lock on the front to the highboy and opened up each drawer.
All were empty of anything but normal, mundane things, but curiously, the bottom drawer rattled. Alyson investigated further by prying the drawer carefully out of the opening and looked carefully at the back. As she had expected, the drawer contained a false bottom and she removed it to see a diary waiting for decades to be discovered.
"Great Grandma's Diary," she said aloud when she read the name stitched into the front.
"What," her boyfriend asked as he groggily rubbed the endless pages of his text book from his eyes?
"I found my Great Grandmother's diary hidden in this drawer," she said with obvious excitement. As he rubbed his eyes, Alyson began to turn page after page, scanning the handwritten pages with quickness and interest. Lost in the content of the diary, Alyson was oblivious to the fact that she was supposed to be studying for a test.
"Oh my God,†she said upon seeing an important discovery. “She was having an affair with a Judge, a married judge at that."
"So what, he wanted a little on the side. No big deal."
"It was big back then," she said and continued to read. After a few minutes of silent reading, Alyson began to talk to her boyfriend again.
"It says here that the affair was discovered by the Judge's wife and that she demanded retribution. My Great Grandmother was then accused of witchcraft within the span of a week."
Alyson was shocked by these words, but when she looked at her boyfriend to whom she was speaking, she saw his eyes were again locked onto his text book. Ignoring him she turned to the last entry in the diary and read it silently.
"Oh dear diary, what have I done? What have I done? What should have been true love and companionship has turned into heartbreak, for this is my last entry. I shall give this to my sister for safe keeping and swing from the gallows at noon. Oh Lord what have I done?
Alyson was astonished at these words. She had heard about her Great Grandmother's trial of witchcraft, but this turn of events was too much. She bolted from the kitchen, her pleated skirt and tight fitting top was skewed and rumpled looking, but Alyson did not care as she grabbed her sneakers and quickly thrust her feet into them, without bothering to even lace them, she grabbed her Great Grandmother's diary and bounded out the sliding glass door, forgetting all about her boyfriend.
"Alyson. Alyson, where are you going," but his words were lost as a dust-devil followed her across the driveway.
Twenty minutes at a hard jog brought Alyson to the Town of Bucksport's main street cemetery. Judge Buck, the founder of the town, had a prominent head stone at the head of the cemetery overlooking the river. In front of it stood a heavy chain to keep the tourists from touching the legendary monument. Alyson dipped below this chain and read the brass plaque out loud.
"John Buck, born in 1719 in Massachusetts, he was granted a parcel of land in what is now Maine. Buck had dark, penetrating eyes and was a man of strong convictions. And was also the Justice of the Peace."
"A woman was accused of witchcraft and brought before Colonel Buck. She was then condemned to death. As the noose was placed around her neck, she uttered this curse," Jonathan Buck, listen to these words, the last my tongue shall utter. In the spirit of the only true and living God I speak to you. You will soon die. Over your grave they will erect a stone that all may know where the bones of the mighty Jonathan Buck are crumbling to dust. But listen, all ye people, and may your descendents ever know the truth. Upon that stone will appear the imprint of my foot, and for a long time after your accursed race has perished from the earth the people will come from afar to view the fulfillment and will say: There lies the man who murdered a woman. Remember well, Jonathan Buck, remember well."
"After the Colonel died, his grave was marked by an ordinary marker. In 1852, Buck's descendents decided to erect a larger, more elegant monument to better honor Bucksport's namesake. That is when the curse came to bear."
"An exceptionally clean, unblemished piece of granite was chosen. Nevertheless, one morning the townspeople noticed the unmistakable mark of a leg and a foot on the front of the monument! It was assumed that it was done by vandals, and they attempted to have the monument cleaned with some kind of solution, but nothing work. They also tried to gouge it out, but it returned, and the monument was even replaced three times, but the image returned every time."
"But it's wrong. The legend of Bucksport is all wrong," Alyson cried out just as a gust of wind kicked up and began to blow the oak leaves of the cemetery trees around in an eerie cyclone. It brought a cold chill to Alyson's meagerly covered skin, giving her the same strange goose bumps that had occurred in the kitchen. As she turned to rush out of the frightening cemetery, a strange soothing voice began to call her name.
"Alyson, dear Alyson, please don't leave. You're the first mortal I have spoken to in fifteen decades. Please stay, please; you are the only one in our family who can take vengeance against our family's past."
It took all of Alyson's nerve to turn and face the voice she heard. She was not sure what to expect, but she held her Great Grandmother's diary close to her heart as she spun on one foot and watched a white apparition come closer from the back of the headstone and revealed itself before her very eyes. It shimmered a white translucent color, but did not approach any closer than five feet or so.
"Who are you and how do you know who I am, or about my family's history?"
"I'm your Great Grandmother Alyson. The one that penned the very ink in that diary you are holding...the one who was murdered...the one who has been waiting for a family member to discover that diary and extract revenge."
"Revenge?"
"Revenge my dear," and as she spoke, Alyson felt a strange sensation, a mixture of warm and hot liquid burst forth and rest upon her stomach. Instantly she stepped back.
"This is really giving me the creeps."
"I was only touching the child Alyson. The Great Great Grandson of Jonathan Buck."
"But I've never done anything of the sort with anyone who is a Buck."
"No, no you haven't my child, but you have with a Blake. A Scott Blake to be exact, your boyfriend whose mother was a Buck before getting married, making the child within you...
"Jonathan Buck's Great Great Grandson."
"Correct, and now it's our family's turn to extract justice Alyson."
"And just how do you propose I do that," she asked in a huff, crossing her arms at the apparition of her all-knowing Great Grandmother?
"The answer is in the wind my dear," and with those words the white silhouette disappeared into the darkened evening.
As a bright pink glow settled upon the western horizon, Alyson noticed her goose bumps were gone. The only thing her Great Grandmother had left behind was a heavy breeze that eddied around the schoolgirl, and then only for a minute. Just as quickly as she disappeared, so did the wind. As Alyson went to bolt from the frightening cemetery, a lime green brochure lay at her feet. She paused again, hearing the last words of her Great Grandmother echo in here ears as she stooped over to pick it up. "The answer is in the wind my dear. The answer is in the wind..."
Alyson was trembling as she picked up the bright green brochure. Flipping it over, she was startled by what she read. ABORTION IS MURDER! the brochure from a religious conservative group proclaimed in bold black ink.
"Oh my God," she gasped in horror at the unmistakable wish of her Great Grandmother.
"Oh my God!"
