A Willing Sacrifice

"All hallows eve is the night the veil is the thinnest." I said with a scoff, the noise scraping along the mausoleum walls. The only lights were the candles I had lit along the walls, causing the shadows to dance.

If I didn't believe that, why was I even here?

"If you don't believe that, then why are you haunting a crypt on the most sacred night?" A voice spoke my thoughts aloud and I jumped out of my skin, twisting to see who spoke. The voice was disembodied, my eyes scanning the niches and alcoves for shapes.

The laugh came from behind me and I spun. A tsking noise followed the laughter as I spun, searching.

"Such a jumpy little thing, and please, do answer my question- why are you here, tonight?" I ground my teeth at the posh voice speaking from all around me. Of course the ghost I find would be bossy and posh.

"I have some right to be jumpy. I am in a crypt and there is a mysterious voice talking to me!" I called, looking around for where the laughter came from.

"Make me ask my question again and there will be a reason to jump, my dear." The voice was light, but then darkened, inviting ideas of what those reasons could be. I still couldn't see anyone, or anything, in the marble building with me.

I crept closer to the main burial alter- Thomas Jones. I had no idea who he was, the Jones family had long since left the area but had left there mark all over town. One had been Mayor for a few years back when my grandma was a kid.

But there had been a rumor about freaky stuff happening in his crypt on Halloween night.

"Well, Thomas, I assume that's who I'm talking to, I heard a rumor that something crazy happened in here last Halloween, and I wanted to see if it was true." I spoke into the darkness, flames flickering on the candles as a cold breeze twisted through the space. Oddly enough it didn't smell like mold and age. Instead it had an odd smell, like warm apple cider and a warm fire smoking in a hearth. Hadn't Thomas run the 'olde' inn a few hundred years ago? It was labeled a historical landmark, and they claimed it was haunted, much like the rest of the small town of Meadows Peak, VT.

"My dear, please call me Mr. Jones. Its much more professional." He said with a huff.

I snorted. "Mr. Jones, then, can you confirm if anything interesting happened last year?" Obviously, something must have happened, since I had a goddamn apparition talking to me.

I crept closer to the alter, feeling an odd pull towards the raised structure. I placed my palm on the stone and it was... warm. It seemed to also be marble but was warm. Marble shouldn't be warm. Not in Vermont. Not in October.

I pulled my hand back and clutched it to my chest. That was certainly weird. And the breeze had stopped. And the voice had gone silent.

"Mr. Jones?" I whispered, a shiver of apprehension shook my body. But, I didn't feel threatened.

Until the presence pushed forward on my shoulders and I was bent over the tomb.

"My apologies, dear, the veil is thin but, I do need power to fully manifest." The weight on my shoulders didn't ease, and yet another breeze ghosted across my legs. The skirt of my costume offered no protection.

Cheerleader was always my go-to. And I still didn't regret that. Maybe I should. Maybe a Lara Croft would have been better. Or a chef. Or something that wore pants, and maybe some salt. That worked against ghosts, right?

"What do you need for power?" I asked, finding my voice breathless.

The voice was the closest its been, whispering across my neck and teasing my ear. "I need you to cum for me, my dear."

I rubbed my thighs together. "Huh, who knew ghosts were powered via sex." I quipped, feeling heat pool in my belly. I definitely should not be turned on by a disembodied ghost. But the heat of the marble radiated into me, relaxing my guard and the pressure was almost comforting in the way it restricted me.

The voice laughed. "Ghosts are not, I am, however, a phantom. A bit more, hmm, powerful." Again that deeper, earthy tone, hinting at something more.

I brought my arms up and tried to push myself upright, but the power held me down. I stopped fighting.

"Is that what happened last year? You tried to get some poor girl," Her name was Francesca and she had been locked in on a dare, "to, what, cum for you?"

The breeze nearly purred as it answered. "I assure you, there was no trying. She was putty for my sacrifice. And you must have seen, she was fine after my ministrations."

That was true, she had been totally fine. Except they locked her in the psych ward after she kept rambling about ghost dick. I thought she had gotten too high and watched Ghost-busters too many times.

I was, evidently, wrong. The ghost, or Phantom, was real. And that ment his dick probably was real too. My breath huffed out in a laugh as the breeze continued to caress me. It turned into a gale, blowing the short cheer skirt up and over my back, revealing the thong I wore.

I did specify a sexy cheerleader, right? It was always a hit with the frat parties.

"What is so funny, dear?" The breeze was a light whisper, tickling between my thighs, up and down my bare legs.

"Just thinking about Francesca, the woman who was here last year, and how they committed her to a psych ward after she," I deliberated my words, causing a pause that he must have taken offense to, as the my silence was broken when I felt a slap across my bare ass. I yelped, stinging. The force had shoved me into the marble tomb, digging its ridges into my hip bones and stomach.

"Hey!" I yelled, fighting the Phantom holding me down. The breeze blew gently over the sting, causing goosebumps to prickle.

"I don't like when people hesitate. Be definitive with your choices, be confident in what you say and do." The voice hissed, angry at me over the lapse. I tensed. Fear wormed its way through my body, and I shook with the trepidation. If he, it, was so incorporeal, how had he hurt me? Could he do worse?

Would he do worse?

My blood heated again and my face warmed with the blush.

"Be a sweet dear and lay on the alter, please." The voice was back to being honey sweet, gentle in its drift across the room and my body. The pressure let me stand up straight.

With a little emotional whiplash, I complied. Although, once I was on my back on the still warm stone, I realized I should have probably taken the freedom to run.

The wind wove around me and I realized, I never had a choice. I tensed as it struck me. He would have stopped me and gotten me on this alter, willing or not. Another shiver shook me. The breeze smoothed across my body, easing me to lay back. I felt little whirls of wind around my ankles and wrists.

I definitely would have had no choice. I clenched at the thought.

A ghost cohesrsing me into being a sex sacrifice was NOT on the Halloween bingo card, or the Halloween bucket list! But it was happening anyways. Maybe I would enjoy it. I had done similar role plays with my boyfriend's and enjoyed it. Maybe the ghost would play along.

"I don't like hesitation." His words echoed and I swallowed. Maybe not.

"So, uh, Mr. Jones, what kind of sex sacrifice do you need?" I asked, shivering as the breeze caressed me through the thin athletic clothing I wore.

"Well, first I need you to cum for me, and that will grant me a more physical form. Then we must become one for me to fully manifest, and then, my dear, I can give you whatever it is that you crave." The whirlpools around my wrists and ankles suddenly tightened and yanked me into a star pose. I yelped.

"I can let you play with yourself, or you can let me wind about you and caress you. What would bring you to your pleasure, my dear?" The breeze was warmer, harder, pushing against me, messing my hair and throwing the skirt ruffles all around.

"Well, Mr. Jones," I opted for polite, instead of enraged as I felt, "I can't play with myself for you with my wrists bound." I looked around, trying to see his figure but the candles flickered and dimmed as his touch breezed about the room.

The breeze stilled again, tightening and then loosening from my wrists and ankles. "I suppose you are correct, my dear. Pleasure yourself for me, show me what you like." Suddenly the zipper on my skirt zipped down, by itself. Or by a feather-light breeze.

I lifted my hips and slid it down to my ankles.

Th breeze caressed my midriff and I huffed, hiking the tight top up so my tits spilled out below it.

"My dear, you are exquisite. " My nipples hardened as the breeze overtook my, forcing me back down on the still warm stone. Although now it felt hot.

My stomach swooped at the nerves of what I was doing. I felt so insane, even without the phantoms presence, I was mostly naked, in a mosuleum, on some guys fucking tomb. It was, quit possibly, the most kinky thing I had ever done.

It was so hot. I was so hot. Sweat beaded on my skin, the breeze cooled me as I moved my hands between my legs. I had left my thong on for now but started to pull it down. Suddenly, it was snapped.

"Let me get that for you." He whispered. I swallowed, mouth dry, he had more power than I realized.

I tensed but then relaxed. Laying back, I spread my legs, kicking my skirt all the way off. Fuck it, I was all in for this haunted night. It would haunt me forever at least. My fingers trailed up my thighs, just the way I liked the best. Light and teasing touches. The breeze flowed around me, following my touch with smooth caresses. I shivered, and traced along my lips, just teasing myself, and Mr. Jones it seemed, was enjoying it as well.

I teased myself for long moments, just tracing over my lips and thighs and stomach. I reached up and toyed with my nipples a few times. My hips started to move, and I slipped a fingertip into my folds, feeling how soaked I was.

All embarrassment fled in the path of my arousal. I had always enjoyed being watched and this was so intense. I could feel the presence of him around me, the breeze flowing all over me, the pressure of his aura surrounded me. There was no way I could run now. I clenched at the thought.

"Yes, my dear, that's it." He started to hiss, drawing out the S's of his speech as he encouraged me. "Take yourself there for me, let me see you cum." I slipped a second finger tip in between my lips and spread them, feeling air meet the sensitive space between my legs. I clenched again.

"Mr. Jones," I moaned, "I do like to edge myself. Are you sure you want me to finish?" I was breathless, nearly panting.

The gust of wind pushed harder, shocking me. "Yes, cum for me, let me see you cum, yes, yes." The voice was harsh, mean, a command.

I trailed my fingers up and finally hit the most sensitive area, my clit, and I rubbed gently, circles and shapes and lines. Teasing myself and the phantom.

"Yes, cum for me, I need you to cum." He ordered again.

"I'm close, so close." I assured him, tripping closer to the edge. At the last second, I pulled my hands away and groped my breasts, kneading them and pinching my nipples. He growled.

My pussy was pulsing, begging to be filled, but the empty feeling just enhanced how much I wanted more. I pushed one hand down again to chase my orgasm while the other pinched my nipples and breasts. The sharp pain of the pinch was the key, sending me over the edge.

I bit my lip to contain the sounds as I spasmed and came, my pussy gushing onto his tomb under my ass. The stone had gotten even hotter, almost ready to cook me.

The tomb shuddered and the wind gusted, the breeze left behind in a torrent. The candles extinguished. I gasp, thrown into darkness as my body spasmed and I came down from the high.

But then there was a glow, and suddenly torches were lit along the walls of the mausoleum. They changed the shape, making the room taller and longer, suddenly it looked as if it was a long hallway, instead of a small chamber.

I panted for breath as I took in the new surroundings.

Then I saw the floating glowing man standing over me. He was ethereal, and beautiful. His face was clean, chiseled and sharp with high cheekbones. His eyes glowed golden, almost fiery, and his black hair was hanging over his forehead.

"Oh, hi." I said to the Phantom.

He smiled at me, showing off perfect teeth. Were they almost too sharp? His smile faded before I could look closer.

"Hello, my dear, are you ready for the next step?" He was polite, and began to tug off the ghostly shirt he wore.

A laugh bubbled up. He looked at me sharply, eyes sparking. "Yes?" He asked.

"You're- you're a, ah, a ghost, wearing, cloths." I kept giggling, covering my mouth with a hand. He frowned.

"You are also wearing cloths." He said, confusion evident by his tone and tilted head.

"Yeah, but you're a ghost. A phantom or whatever." I waved a hand. "It was just funny to me. What does the next step entail, Mr. Jones?"

The smile returned and I did see his sharpened teeth. Would he bite me? My nipples hardened at the thought. I shivered.

"Now, I am going to fuck you, my dear." He held a long hard cock in his hand now, stroking it gently as he watched me watching him. I licked my lips.

"Will there be, you know, ectoplasm?" I asked, gasping at his girth. He was going to break me open.

I was going to love every haunted second.

His smile widened. "Yes, I guess so, if you get me to cum. That will finish our ritual, and when you cum again, I will be granted my wholly physical form."

A less hazy and less horny part of my brain wondered at that, why he wanted a physical form.

But the thoughts flew from my head as he jumped up to stand above me on the tomb. I gulped, mouth opening for him, I made an aheago face. "Oh, my dear, I like that." He growled and lowered himself so he knelt above me. He was so solid, but if I pushed too hard he seemed to bow at the edges, like he wasn't fully here.

Then he lowered himself, licking at my wet lips. He hummed, pleased. "Your essence is as delicious as you looked. Give me more." He dipped his head lower, latching onto my over sensitive clit. I bit my lip, holding the yelp in as he lapped at me. His tongue swirled and moved all around my clit, teasing and tasting me. He feasted like a man starved. My hands were able to feel the silky strands of his hair.

He paused and turned his head, using those sharp teeth on my thighs, and I gasp. He left little welts from my hips to my knees, biting and kissing and sucking. Back to the apex of my thighs he returned and lavished at me again. I trembled under his ministrations.

My hips twisted and lifted, craving more, driving me to another orgasm. His arms wrapped around my thighs, feeling so similar to those bands of wind earlier. I shook and tightened my hands in his hair, my mouth opening in a silent scream. His tongue slid into me, teasing my entrance, my pussy clenched, demanding more. He growled.

One of his arms released me and his hand dove between his face and my cunt, his fingers joining his tongue.

My pussy clenched, greedily pulling his finger in as I came around it.

The wind blew in a torrent again, sweeping through the mausoleum once again, the rough wind caressed my body, heightened my senses and tearing away the groan in my throat.

My legs went limp, and my hands fell to my stomach as he lapped at my cum stained pussy, like a proud cat at the cream. His smile as he met my eyes was feline as well. Those sharp teeth glinting in the torch light.

He growled up my body, urging my legs around his waist. He felt much more solid with them wrapped around him, pulling him in.

The wind had stopped, leaving the sound of my panting loud in the marble chamber. I realized, he wasn't breathing.

He didn't need to breath. The revelation shocked me. Then I felt his cock against me, much more solid than the rest of him. He was as hard as the marble tomb he was about to fuck me against.

"My dear, you came so good for me. Now, one more time for me, give me every drop." He growled, voice dark and his eyes shone brighter, flames flicking in the golden depths. They drew me in, heating my blood and my cunt.

I writhed in his flames, sweat slicking my skin, mixing with my cum under me. I gripped at his forearms as he caged me in under him, sliding the head of his cock against me.

He felt more solid as I used him as an anchor, but I noticed he was also sticky. His eyes brought me in and hypnotized me as that first inch slid into me.

"You are so tight, dear, I've never felt something so good." He growled, voice deep and gravely. I opened my eyes and saw his teeth, sharper than ever, as he grinned down at me. His eyes flashed, and I noticed he looked more gaunt, the flames dancing around us sharpened his features more.

I turned my head and looked at his hand, next to my head, and saw his nails were long and pointed.

My eyes shut as I noticed the slight coating of wetness across him, not sweat. Ectoplasm. I squeezed my eyes shut and gasp as his cock slid deeper. It felt like he was going to rip me open. It hurt so good.

Once he was anchored into me, sunk deep, he stilled and let me stretch around him.

"That is my dear, take me all, and give me all of you. Yes." He purred, still a deep edge to his voice.

My pussy clenched around him, and I jumped, when his mouth locked around my nipple. He roughly licked it, nipping and leaving a sharp shoot of pain through me. He moved his mouth off my nipple and across my breath, biting down in a way that would certainly leave me marked. I clenched again, rising my hips.

He spoke against me. "Ahh, there's my dear, ready for me, finally?" He leaned back and began to move his hips, sliding in and out before circling them and beginning again.

The slickness between my thighs spread as he moved in out, and I opened my eyes to look down. He was leaving me coated in Ectoplasm all over as he pushing and out of me.

The wind began to blow again, whipping faster as his movements grew in fever pitch. I mewled and moaned under him. I was so close again. I was going to cum on his cock.

The wind swirled and blew around us, howling. I screamed as I came this time but the winds howling swallowed my sound. He was cumming with me, I realized, feeling his cock pulse and his cum filling me.

He dropped his head and latched onto my breast, biting down so hard he broke the skin and I felt myself begin to bleed, but the pain overshot my orgasm and tripped me into another one.

I held him to me as we both shivered and shook, trembling in the aftershocks. The wind had gone silent and the marble beneath me began to cool.

He pulled away and off of me, leaving me panting and shaking on his tomb. His grin was back to charming. And his face was beautiful again, with golden eyes.

"Thank you my dear. Shall I expect you next All Hallows Eve?" He asked.

I gaped at him.

In a blink the torches went out, and I saw the sun streaming through the stained glass above the door.

I slowly rolled off the stone top, and teetered on my feet, eyes tracking about the room. The candles has all burned down to puddles and my cloths were on the floor. I pulled the skirt and shirt on, but left my torn thong on his tomb. As an offering, or a memento, I wasn't sure.

I stumbled out of the mausoleum into the pre dawn light, and turned and looked back at the closed door. I shook my head and went to walk home.

The wind brushed by and I heard one last whisper. "I do hope to see you next All Hallows, dear."