A little background is in order here. I'm sure you all have heard of the 'Twilight Zone'. This is one of my humble offerings in that vein. I've titled it 'ENTER THE ZONE I' because I have some more zone tales in the works, if I can ever finish them. this one had been if the works for months. OK that said, we have ghost rape, impregnation. horror and wee bit of force. Where the ghost is speaking is my feeble attempt to sound like a Scot from three centuries ago.ENTER THE ZONE I
Michelle Franklin, a beautiful woman with what seems a good head on her shoulders. Until she crosses the border and inters, ‘The Zone’.
Michelle was a young woman of 27 who had studied hard and gained her realtor license at an early age. Working hard she had established her own realty agency in Bangor Maine. She was on her way up the coast to view a property that had just come on the market from an estate sale. No living relatives could be found after the last owner of the property had died without issue. The state had foreclosed on the property in lieu of back taxes and Michelle was to appraise the property. The property was located along the sea coast and also included some 100 acres of the surrounding land.
As Michelle drove along the coast road a huge thunderstorm appeared out of nowhere in mere seconds she could barley see the highway. Driving rain lashed her car and brilliant lighting flashes lit the suddenly darkened sky. Barely able to see the rutted turnoff into the property her car lurched down the rutted driveway. At last she sees the house a huge three story affair built around the year 1701. Scrambling from her car she raced into the house as the driving rain lashed her tall lissome body.
Michelle cursed as she realized her clothing was soaked and her body is shivering with the sudden chill. She tried some of the 1920’s light switches, to no avail. Either the storm has knocked out the power or the damn power company had failed to turn the power on. Michelle growled to herself, “Fucking wonderful, just fucking wonderful! Soaked to the skin, no power and in a house that looks like something from ‘Dark Shadows’.”
Searching through the huge old kitchen she at last found some candles left by someone. Using a plastic lighter from her purse she swiftly has some warm glowing light going in the kitchen. She then spotted the massive old fashioned gas kitchen stove. Testing the burners she heard the satisfying hiss of gas and lit the burners.
A search of the kitchens huge pantry turns up what can only be ancient feedbags from a century gone by. Coming to a rapid decision Michelle strips off her rain soaked clothing and using the feedbags dries her shivering body. Then using two dry feedbags she fashions a sort of bra and kilt to cover her boobs and groin. Then finding some hangers she sets out her soaked clothing to dry beside the kitchen stove. She mutters to herself, “Good thing my grandma taught me a few things and good thing I was paying attention.”
Standing by the stove she looks down at her abbreviated costume and mutters, “Nice Michelle you look like 1890’s meets ‘Skin Magazine’. Thankfully I don’t have any clients with me today.”
Standing in the kitchen she notices that the thunderstorm has become even more violent with thunder crashing and the lighting flashes like a incessant strobe light. Suddenly she sees a bluish light flickering under the interior kitchen door.
Taking up a candle she walked toward the door and opened it. A bluish mist shot through with golden threads swirled in the center of what had to be the still 1800’s decorated dining room. Michelle stopped thunderstruck at the unknown phenomenon taking place in front of her. It had to be related to the storm outside, but it was like nothing she had ever seen or heard of before.
Then the impossible happened the swirling bluish mist began to coalesce into a solid form. Swiftly the mist coalesced into a full-blown apparition in the form of a tall lean man dressed in the sea garb of centuries gone by!
Frozen in place by fear and wonder that her sanity had fled Michelle stood in place as the figure of the man vibrated a final time and was finally solid. The figure was lanky, black haired, a craggy weather beaten face, and had piercing emerald eyes. When the apparition spoke Michelle nearly dropped the candle she still held in her hands.
“Aye tis me William home at last! How I’ve longed for ye lass! Aye and I see you’ve rained thyself in preparation for my home coming! You look a proper saucy lass Michelle! Still I’ll not complain as I’m near mad with the urge to copulate with thee!” The man spoke English, abet with an accent and the use of archaic words seldom heard in the 21st century.
Michelle stammered, “Y-y-you’re n-n-not r-r-real you can’t be!”
The apparitions emerald eyes flashed when he said, “What ails you lass? Why canna I not be real? Tis your husband William you see standing before you, home at last from me last voyage! Sooth time for talk later, ye can drop thy rags from thy body and we shall be as man and wife here and now!”
“NOOOOO THIS ISN’T REAL, IT CAN’T BE! I’M NOT MARRIED TO YOU OR ANYONE ELSE!” Michelle was shrieking at the top of her lungs as the specter before her crossed the few feet separating them and plucked the candle from her nerveless fingers.
Michelle could smell the male phantom then. He/it smelled of the sea with a strong scent of male musk. She wanted to flee, to run, and never stop running. However she was rooted in place as she watched him/it set the candle on the dusty old fashioned table and then turn his/its attentions to the feedbags that barely covered her succulent breasts and the mysteries of her groin.
Solid male hands ripped the feedbags away from Michelle’s round perky 36D-cup breasts as well as her delightfully compact 36” hips. She saw the emerald green eyes fasten on the narrow strip of black pubic hair just above her sex slit. Her voice came in a quavering disbelieving tone, “T-T-This c-c-can’t be real! I’m dreaming somehow or I’ve gone mad!”
The male figure before her gave her a interrogative look before he said, “You dinna make much sense lass and dinna kin what ye are on aboot. As for mad, I’m the one who’s mad! Mad to quench the fire in my loins! You’ve went and done something to yer bush I see. Canna say I’ve seen such afore, but I like it!”
Michelle was willing her feet to move, to beat a hasty retreat, or simply to run naked into the storm screaming like a mad woman. Nonetheless she did none of those things as the male apparition in front of her hastily stripped off his clothing to reveal a tall gaunt body that still bespoke of un-guessed male strength.
Then Michelle’s eyes widened further in disbelief as her eyes fully took in the male organ protruding from the specters groin. He was uncut and fully erect and of dimensions that she thought only male porn stars possessed.
The phantom rumbled. “Tis been far to long since I dipped me wick in your quim! We’ll no bother with a bed this time. Bend forward over the table lass and I’ll have ye tight quim from the rear!”
Michelle screamed, “NOOOO THIS CAN’T BEEEE! I CAN’T BE RAPED BY A GHOST!”
Michelle attempted to struggle and soon found her wrists bound behind her with the specters wide seaman’s belt. She was pushed forward
The specters hands fell chilly when they took hold of Michelle’s shoulders and began forcing her to bend over the table. The voice came again, “Aye ye always did like to play at rape! Tis fine with me lass tis many a moon since I sampled your womanly wares!”
Michelle’s heart thudded in her chest as she was forced down over the old dusty table causing her large chest melons to be painfully squished against the unyielding surface of the table. She was still screaming, “STOP, STOP THIS CAN’T BE TRUE! NOOOO ONE IS RAPED BY A GHOST!”
The specters rumbling voice replied, “Aye ye have taken another mad notion I see! Canna you not see tis I your husband William Mac Tarrart that’s about to plumb your sweet depths again. Aye and mayhap we shall make that wee bairn ye hanker for this time!”
She felt the gnarled cool hands forcing her legs wide apart. The specter was opening up her tight rear cleft and the tiny slit that was her sexual opening. Michelle was not sexually inexperienced, however she never let a man take her from the rear and certainly never any place, but in bed. Michelle was greatly into proper behavior as her position as a real-estate agent demanded that she be so.
Michelle’s brain again rejected the events that were unfolding all around her. Women weren’t raped by ghosts in ancient houses, not even in New England did that happen.
The phantoms voice growled, “Ahh I’ve found your cunny. Ye seem to be tighter then I remember! Ach no matter I’ll soon plow ye open again!”
Michelle squealed like a young girl as she felt the specters enormous manhood part her tight love lips and jockey for position. “NOOOO THIS CAN’T BE HAPPENING TO MEEEE!” She tried to wiggle away and only succeeded in allowing the spirits male member to lodge in the gateway to her womb.
The ghosts mighty manhood speared slowly into the tight embrace of Michelle’s womanhood and began its journey to the end of womanhood. Michelle screamed in fear and panic! Fear that she was being ripped in twain and panic that she had lost her mind completely. “GOD IS HURTS! NO IT CAN’T HURT BECAUSE THIS CAN’T BE HAPPENING!”
The apparition rumbled, “Aye ye have tightened up lass! Tis been far to long since I’ve ploughed ye field. Ach fear not lassie I’ll give ye a good ploughing and several more before we call it quits!”
Unable to free herself Michelle resigned herself to the phantom rape. Real of figment of a shattered mind the prick tunneling its way into the hot depths of her belly was nearly more than she could bear. Nothing that her previous lovers had done with her had prepared the frightened woman for the experience she was now undergoing.
The apparition moved its gnarled hands so that it held her just above the womanly swell of her hips and continued to plunder her tight birth canal. Michelle grimaced and bit her lip to keep from crying out again. She feared that if she were to keep screaming that she might never stop. The specter rape went on as lighting flashed and thunder boomed. For long minutes and yet more minutes the apparitions organ plundered the tight channel that was Michelle’s vagina.
Flashes of pain mixed with incredible pleasure rippled though the lissome body of the lovely real-estate agent. She could feel the huge member inside her flexing and spearing into the mouth of her womb in time to its vigorous movements. Her belly rippled with a climax as she moaned, “Noooo I can’t be climaxing! I can’t, I just can’t!”
Michelle’s ghostly rapist howled, “BUT YE CAN LASSIE, BUT YE CAN! OCH I’M SPILLING MY SEED IN YOUR HOT CHALICE! DO YE FEEL IT LASS, DO YE FEEL IT?”
And she did feel squirts of liquid race into her specter raped pussy and impact her womb. The liquid was hot/cold at the same time like one of those patches for sore muscles.
Dazed and convinced her sanity had fled Michelle was vaguely aware of her ghostly rapist pulling her down on a ratty old couch. She was hauled aboard his still somehow rigid prick and forced to rid her ghostly rapists massive male organ.
The specter pulled on her delicate tit tips as he again ploughed her feminine field. Michelle howled in anguish as she felt her own libido betray her. “CAN’T, I CAN’T! NOOOO I CAN’T ORGASM LIKE THISSSSSS!” Nevertheless her lovely body shuddered and quaked as she climaxed from the rape of her pussy by a ghost!
The apparition rumbled in reply, “AYE LASS I CANNA FEEL MY SEED RACED INTO YE WOMB. TIS SURE AND WE’VE MADE A WEE BAIRN IN YE BELLY THIS TIME!”
It was the afternoon of the next day before a totally nude young woman was found wandering along a secondary highway. She was glassy eyed and muttering about being raped by a ghost in an old house. A quick search of the local area found the woman’s car and the old house. Police found the woman’s clothing and I.D., but found no trace of anyone else. The only footprints in the house were made by a woman and the dust of many years still overlaid tables and chairs.
Doctors at the hospital Michelle was taken to were puzzled by the obvious trauma to her genitals, however they found no trace of sperm or the lube coatings from condoms. The obvious conclusion was that the trauma to Michelle’s genitals was self induced. In addition her wild tales of specters and ghosts raping her for hours on end were thought to be drug related.
Epilogue: Nearly five months later Michelle stands in front of her full length mirror in her bedroom and feels the growing budge just below her navel. It had been three weeks before she had settled down enough that doctors would release her from the hospital. She was still questioning her own sanity when her next period failed to start. Then morning sickness came and a home test confirmed that a baby was growing inside her.
Michelle knew she was bearing the child of a man dead low these many centuries. A little research had discovered that the old house had been built by a Scots sailing master by the name of William Mac Tarrart who had been lost at sea in the year 1700. His widowed wife Michelle had lived another 50 years in the old house longing for her lost love William.
Michelle had entered, ‘The Zone!’
End
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