Taken by the Christmas Spirits

Taken by the Christmas Spirits By Eve Langlais

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Taken by the Christmas Spirits Copyright© 2011 Eve Langlais ISBN: 978-1-60088-730-7 Cover Artist: Sable Grey Editor: Devin Govaere All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews. Cobblestone Press, LLC www.cobblestone-press.com

Waking up alone always sucked. Waking up alone Christmas morning or, judging by the darkness around me, in the silent hours before dawn sucked even harder. But I discovered that emerging from a sleeping pill-induced slumber to find myself spread eagle, naked and tied to the four corners of my bed most disturbing of all. ‚What the fuck!‛ I shouted, not even attempting to curb my annoyance. I tugged at my restraints, but whoever had bound me obviously knew their stuff because I didn’t budge. Panting harshly, and I’ll admit slightly panicked, I peered around, seeking any sign of the pervert who’d snuck into my apartment to truss me up like a turkey dinner. Nothing moved except for my curtains, as if a breeze stroked them, which made no sense. I kept my windows firmly shut in the winter and even covered them in plastic to prevent drafts. Apparently, a new air leak had popped up. Great, another thing for my nonexistent boyfriend to fix. Single life bit the big one. Sure, I got to keep the remote and watch whatever I wanted. I could sprawl across my bed, live on frozen dinners, and not care what my breath smelled like in the morning. However, at times like these, when life bitch-slapped me, I really wished I could find a man who satisfied my needs and would make me want to change my status on Facebook from single to in a relationship. As my mind babbled to itself, bemoaning our single state, I took stock of my situation. Dire and FUBAR-ed came to mind, but I’d always hated giving in to the odds. Straining my eyes, I looked to see anything at all in the murkiness of my bedroom. A camera manned by Ashton Kutcher waiting to scream ‚Punked!‛ would have worked nicely. But no,

only darkness and vaguely recognizable shapes were visible. I’d just about given up developing night vision when a single flame popped up from a candle I kept on my dresser. I blinked at the sudden brightness and wrinkled my nose as the stench of wick and dust came to me. As part of my emergency candle collection, one for every room in case of power outages, the candle in my room had never found itself used and, as such, didn’t burn or smell as pleasantly as it should have. But with it lit, I knew one important thing other than the fact it needed replacing. I was not alone. Ha, Mother! And you said I’d never spend Christmas with anyone because I was such a picky bitch. Of course, when I later recounted this story, maybe I’d leave out the part where I shared this holiday moment with a possible rapist and murderer. Then again, maybe I’d find myself lucky and my invader would prove to be only a cat burglar with a strange fetish for bound and naked women. A part of me wondered that I didn’t scream and thrash. Panic like every damsel in a horror flick. That smacked of cowardice though, and if there was one thing I knew as an officer of the courts, predators loved the smell of fear. Like I’d reward the bastard. ‚Who’s there?‛ I asked, my voice wavering despite my inner confidence. No one answered, but a chill breeze floated over my body, pebbling my nipples in its wake. ‚Great. Whoever it is left a door open and is wasting all the heat,‛ I grumbled. I tugged again at my restraints, annoyed that the inconsiderate prowler would not only rob me but cause my gas bill to skyrocket. Energy companies. You had to hand the award to them as the biggest legal thieves of all. Another rush of cold air swept through the room, and it was then I noticed something freaky. The candle flame didn’t waver one bit. That made no sense, then again, neither did the cloaked figure floating above me. The impossibly suspended figure did what my current situation couldn’t. Fear clutched me, and I screamed, a shrill piercing sound that hurt even my ears.

‚Would you mind not doing that?‛ The silky masculine voice came from my left, not above me, and I whipped my head sideways to see another robed figure at my bedside. ‚Who are you? What are you doing here? And I will damned well scream if I please, dammit!‛ My terror coalesced into anger, a burning emotion more familiar—and welcome—to me. The cowled person cocked their head. ‚I wasn’t talking to you but my brother, the one hovering above you. Go ahead and scream if you want, although try and not make yourself hoarse because we’d really like to hear it once we truly begin.‛ ‚What? I—‛ Another first. Words escaped me. The weird dude, had to be a guy with that low voice, stole my voice with his threatening statement. Deciding not to dwell on how he and his accomplice intended to make me shriek, I turned my attention back to the floater above me, only to see the ceiling free of freaky levitating guys. Of course, that still left two weird dudes in my bedroom. Wait, make that three, and they all stood at the foot of my bed, a trio of Grim Reapers in their long robes with the hoods pulled down low on their faces so only their chins appeared. Nice chins too. Square, clean shaven, much more attractive than any serial killers or burglars should own. There was only one conclusion to draw from the situation. ‚Begone, you worshippers of Satan.‛ I would have signed myself with the cross if I could, my atheist status not an issue when faced with obviously deranged religious whackos. ‚Um, while we know of Satan, we certainly don’t worship him,‛ said one dark, melodious voice. Despite myself, I couldn’t help a shiver from coursing through me. It made my already pointed nipples harden farther. Dammit. I didn’t want these nutjobs to think I was hot for them. ‚What do you want with me?‛ ‚We are here to help you change your life.‛ ‚No thanks.‛ I was so proud of myself for staying polite. The Jehovahs didn’t fare so well when they tried the same spiel. A figure approached and pushed back his hood. The flickering candlelight made shadows dance over his face, but what I could see went

well past good looking. Rugged planes to go with that firm chin, sensual lips that quirked at my regard. Figured a psychopath would have the face of a god, a visage that would make any girl drool and stutter under normal circumstances. But it wasn’t his perfection that made shiver. No, that I could handle. What I couldn’t handle were his eyes. They glowed, inhuman orbs whose depths swirled, a striated mist of gray that coiled and moved like storm clouds before a brisk wind. I’d either lost my mind or dreamed. I went with nuts because I certainly did not have the imagination to have thought this up. ‚You’re not crazy,‛ the stranger whispered, leaning down until our noses almost touched. ‚What you see are the shadows of the past.‛ I disregarded his odd statement. ‚Who are you?‛ My question emerged low and breathy, and I really hoped, if he did reply, he wouldn’t say death. ‚The Ghost of Christmas Past, here to remind you of the mistakes you’ve made before.‛ Seriously? My pent-up breath whooshed out. ‚The Ghost of Christmas Past? Hold on a second. Are you implying I’m a Scrooge? I resent that. I’ll have you know I give to charity,‛ I huffed, all too aware of how close he was to me, so aware that a part of me wondered if he’d bend down farther and touch me with those lips. So sue me. It had been a while since I’d last gotten laid. Besides, I’d obviously drifted into some perverted dreamland, and I wondered where it was going. Hopefully straight from crazy into orgasmic. He pinched the tip of my nipple, and I yelped. ‚This is not a dream. We’ve been watching you. Going through men like candy. Never satisfied.‛ My reply emerged defensive. ‚It’s not my fault none of them can keep up. That they bore me.‛ ‚True. The men of your past were but boys.‛ ‚But what of your present?‛ A different voice presented itself at my side. The one calling himself the Ghost of Christmas Past moved from my line of sight, and I shifted my head slightly to keep him in view, but a new speaker took his place, his eyes the swirling frenzy of a green hurricane. ‚And you are?‛

‚The Ghost of Christmas Present of course.‛ I rolled my eyes. ‚Yes, so obvious. Care to tell me why you’re all here Scrooging me? Where’s the camera?‛ ‚You find this amusing? Your current life is nothing to laugh at. We’ve been watching you.‛ ‚So you keep saying. Just what are you talking about? My life might be a little empty at the moment, but that’s just because I dumped my boyfriend.‛ Mostly because, once again, I’d gotten bored. ‚Exactly. How long will you keep making the same mistakes?‛ ‚The mistake was obviously mixing my sleeping pill with that peppermint schnapps last night. But I’m feeling a lot more alert now, so joke’s over. Untie me right this second and I’m telling you right now, if any of this ends up on the Internet, I am suing your collective robed asses.‛ ‚She still doesn’t believe.‛ The new voice from the third fellow, who I assumed would call himself the Ghost of Christmas Future, sounded dire. He flung his hood back and revealed short, platinum hair that spiked in spots. His eyes were the freakiest of all as they were just unadorned white. ‚Nice contacts by the way. But seriously, I’m getting cold over here.‛ ‚Not as chilly as your future. Behold.‛ And then suddenly I wasn’t in my bedroom anymore. People talk about their life flashing before their eyes. Me, I saw the future. Did I forget to mention it bit the big one? There was no doubting who the figure huddled in the chair was, in a nursing home of all places. I sat alone in my own little corner, scowling at everyone. Around my ignored grizzled and gray form, others in my age group hugged and yakked away with younger version of themselves and children. Families come to visit for the holidays I assumed judging by the ridiculous amount of garlands and Christmas lights strung up around the place. ‚Behold your future if you do not change today,‛ whispered a silky voice in my disembodied ear. ‚I get put in a home. Happens to a lot of people.‛ ‚See what happens that night.‛

I didn’t want to, didn’t want to see what made his voice ring with that ominous tone. I couldn’t close my eyes though and was forced to watch my older self stare into a mirror, moisture leaking down my cheeks. ‚I’m crying?‛ Surprise made my query lilt. Since when did I cry? And what the fuck was I doing now? Future me opened a bottle of pills and began gulping them like I was starved and they were candy. That didn’t bode well. ‚I kill myself? Why?‛ I’d not seen anything to really merit death, other than a bad taste in comforters. Flowers and plaid should not mix. ‚Your loneliness finally gets to you. You spend your whole life trying and discarding men until one day you’re too old and cynical to bother anymore.‛ ‚You tell yourself you don’t care,‛ whispered another voice. ‚But loneliness eats you up.‛ ‚So what you’re telling me is I never meet Mr. Right? Is this why you’re here, to point him out? I’m good with that.‛ It wasn’t that I didn’t want love; I did. But, none of the men I thought I cared for lasted. None of them could fulfill my needs, and eventually, they got discarded as I went searching for the thing that would fill up that empty hole inside me—and between my legs. ‚There is no one man meant for you.‛ ‚No human capable of giving you what you need.‛ ‚What you crave.‛ ‚Then why the fuck show me this?‛ I snapped. ‚Trying to speed up the process? Well, I’ve got news for you. I love life, so you can forget me offing myself.‛ ‚We want to prevent your death.‛ ‚Halt your loneliness.‛ ‚Let us show you what you need. What’s been missing.‛ I still didn’t understand, even when their three mouths suddenly landed on various parts of me, caressing my bare skin with their whispery touch. And then I didn’t care as my body ignited under their expert caresses, moisture flooding my sex, my nipples tightening and begging for their touch. I’d experimented once with a threesome, a female and a male at the

same time. It did nothing for me. Sharing a guy’s attention with another woman was worse than having a man all to myself. But now, touched, kissed, and licked by three men intent on my pleasure… Oh my, I ignited like dry timber before a match. I longed to run my fingers through the hair of the ghost, man, whatever you wanted to call him who sucked at one of my erect peaks, his cool mouth tugging with a wild abandon that I loved. With my legs tied, I could not lock onto the body between my legs that enticed me with butterfly kisses on the inside of my thighs, teasing my flesh, blowing frosty air onto my sex. I could, however, suck the tongue of the one who kissed me into my mouth. Latch onto his thrusting organ and slide my own around it. Pleasure built within me, coiling and turning, until I wanted to scream with the joy of it. As if sensing how close I came to the brink, they withdrew, and I cried out. ‚Don’t stop,‛ I panted to the sound of their husky laughter. Opening my eyes, I saw them shedding their robes, revealing lean and muscular torsos and, even better, long jutting cocks. ‚Give it to me.‛ I didn’t mind begging. The ghost of the past smiled as he wrapped his hand around his cock, stroking it and making me salivate. ‚So eager. A bad trait of yours that I’ve noticed in your past. Some things should be savored, denied to make them all the sweeter so that the memory is almost as pleasurable as the act.‛ I growled. He laughed and didn’t give me his cock, so I turned pleading eyes to the ghost of the present with his wicked green eyes. ‚I live for today,‛ he said, then slapped his cock on my leg. ‚But that means I make the most of every moment because I can’t relive the past and can never predict the future.‛ ‚So is that a yes or no to the cock sucking?‛ I demanded. He chuckled but knelt on the bed, his cock so close but not enough for me to latch my lips. ‚Patience. Enjoy the moment.‛ I didn’t dignify that with an answer when all I wanted to scream was ‚fuck me now‛. I turned my attention instead to the ghost of the

future with the freaky set of peepers. His prick curved nicely at the tip, and I wondered how it would feel butting up inside me. Delicious I’d bet. ‚And what does my future look like?‛ I asked. ‚Climatic,‛ he replied with a grin. In a blur of movement, he went from teasing me with his hand on his cock to between my legs, his mouth latched onto my pussy, sucking. I yelled and bucked under his sudden onslaught then came hard as his tongue expertly flicked my clit, releasing some of the pressure in me. But the fun didn’t stop there. Panting harshly, my mouth agape, I found my lips nudged apart to make room for the cock that decided it finally needed some sucking. And then, I don’t how they managed it—I guess their ghostly bodies aided them a bit—but a cock slid itself between the valley of my tits. Talk about an orgy of cock that increased again when the third cock found its rightful spot in my pussy. My cunt, still trembling from my orgasm, squeezed tight around the cold, almost marble-like dick inside me, a curved prick that thrust in and out, hitting my G-spot with each stroke. I would have grunted or moaned my encouragement, but I had my mouth pretty full of dick, a pumping cock that, while long and thrusting deep, somehow never managed to gag me. The beauty of a ghostly prick I guessed. With two of my holes taken care of so pleasurably, I could almost forget the one between my tits. As if sensing that, fingers tweaked my nipples, pinching them hard so that I arched, or tried to. Pinned by three ghostly bodies, I didn’t move far. The cock thrusting into me quickened its pace, slamming into my body with fleshy smacks that made me grunt around the shaft in my mouth. Hands grasped my buttocks and tilted me, allowing the penetrating dick to sink into me even deeper, finding my G-spot and banging it. I screamed as I came that second time, my whole body jerking as a tidal wave of pleasure rolled through me, squeezing the pumping prick. I felt great, better than great, and I would have said so too, except, it seemed they weren’t done. Gagged still with a cock, I only vaguely noticed when my arms and legs were freed. Not that it did much for me because I found myself at the mercy of three pairs of hands that flipped

me onto my stomach and then pulled on me until I got on my knees, my ass thrust back. ‚You going to tag team me?‛ I gasped, more in excitement than fear as I felt more than saw them jostling for position behind me. ‚Not quite. Why take turns when we can take you all at once?‛ It occurred to me to wonder how they thought they’d manage that, but the next thing I knew a body lay under mine in a sixty-nine position that put a cock in front of my face. I’d always loved this number, so I dove on the offering with relish, inhaling the length of it down my throat. I only grunted a little when a cock slid into my cunt. Exposed as I was, it seemed only natural one of them would take advantage of my soaking and hungry pussy. What I didn’t expect was the cold liquid that dripped down my ass crack nor the finger that followed it, rubbing it into my virgin rosette. I had a thing with my ass. Things came out of it, not in it. I reared up to tell them so, but a firm hand pushed me back down, forcing the cock below me too deep for me to even mumble in protest. I tensed up as one finger probed my tight hole and someone chuckled. ‚And this is why you’ve never found what you search for in the past.‛ ‚This is why your present is not your future.‛ ‚And this,‛ grunted the third voice as he worked his finger past the knuckle into my ass, ‚is why I love my job.‛ The digit in my butt didn’t exactly please. It felt tight, and strange, and then incredible as finally the fellow under me put his tongue to use, rubbing it across my clit. It shocked me that he would lick me so intimately while his friend fucked my cunt. It also excited me. It seemed so taboo to have someone thrusting into me while a tongue flicked my nub. Incredible didn’t even begin to describe the pleasurable feeling of it. The cock in my pussy stroked me harder, flinging all thoughts but my approaching climax to the side. I’d almost forgotten the finger sliding with ease in my ass until suddenly a second digit shoved its way in, pumping in time to the cock. The tightness returned as the fingers stretched my ring, but despite the newness, oddly enough, I enjoyed it.

They built my pleasure back up with licks and strokes, igniting my body until I slammed myself back against the fingers and cock that penetrated me. I should have known they weren’t done. The pressure in my ass eased as the fingers withdrew, but I didn’t have time to mourn their loss because something a little wider and fuller took their place, pushing at my taut ring—the head of a cock popping into me. I gasped as I found myself dually penetrated, and for a moment, sanity made me wonder how they managed it. As if they read my thoughts, I heard a whispered, ‚Look to the side and see.‛ The prick in my mouth popped free as I turned my head and beheld a misty mirror hanging beside my bed. Under regular circumstances, I would have found it fascinating, but it was what it showed in its depths that truly blew my mind. There I knelt, tits bobbing, ass thrust up and my body flushed with passion. But what made my jaw drop was the scene between my legs. While Future gripped my cheeks and spread them, his cock buried to the hilt in my cunt, Past hovered above my ass, his dick disappearing into my crevice. Even more fucked up, because of the lack of room for them both, their bodies somehow blurred together, allowing them to both occupy the same space at once. How freaking awesome. Not that they let me enjoy the visual pleasure of it for long. A slap on my ass preceded their command of ‚Suck!‛ More eager than ever, I turned back to the throbbing shaft under my chin and inhaled it into my wet orifice, sucking with renewed vigor. Like the sharp crack of a pistol that announces the start to a race, the cocks in my holes began to move. I think I clamped down a bit hard on the dick in my mouth. I know my whole body tightened. But instead of exclamations of pain, I got sighs of pleasure. Before I had time to adjust to the invasion of my ass, the shaft penetrating my butt began to move in opposite cadence to the shaft in my cunt. Mix in a tongue lapping at my clit, and oh yeah, I came hard a third fucking time. But that didn’t stop them. No, they pounded me even as my

muscles quivered and trembled around them. They alternated their strokes in and out until I couldn’t remember my name. They fucked me, their cold cocks taking me in the three holes I owned, took them, and claimed them as their own. Then they started to come, and I would have bet anything on the order—Past, Present and Future. Not that I really cared because I was coming again while trying to swallow a jet of cream that tasted of chilled peaches of all things. They finally let me collapse in a heap on the bed, panting, sated and kind of dazed. ‚Can I say wow?‛ I finally managed to huff. A hand stroked my hip, and an amused voice said, ‚Only wow? I suppose it’s better than some of your past after-coitus words, ‘get out’ for example.‛ ‚I think we need to show her again. Right now.‛ ‚Most definitely. I see her coming at least a dozen more times before the day is done,‛ Future added. And what do you know, the man could predict the future, although he miscounted by one. But I wasn’t complaining. Thirteen orgasms were probably the best Christmas presents any girl could receive. And then the time came for them to leave. ‚Do you have to go?‛ I complained. ‚I’ve shown you the errors of your past so that you don’t repeat them,‛ Past said, his lingering kiss telling me more than words how much he longed to stay. ‚Live each day to the fullest,‛ said Present. His tongue kiss almost managed to get a rise out of my tired and sore body. But it was Future that gave me hope. ‚Your future takes two paths. In one, you eventually find three humans who almost meet your needs.‛ ‚And in the other?‛ I whispered as he nibbled on my neck. ‚In the other, you continue on your current path and force us to return to punish you until you see the light.‛ Then, the spirits of Christmas who’d taken me—in every position imaginable—vanished, leaving behind only the memory of their touch and the faint taste of peaches on my tongue.

***** A year later… I’d done my best all year long. They’d warned me, after all, last year what would happen if I didn’t change my ways. Warned me of the consequences. I hoped they kept their word. I’d spent the last twelve months dating and ditching men, none of them satisfying me. Out of curiosity, I even tried a threesome and a foursome of males. Like those puny humans could compare to my three ghosts. My Christmas spirits had spoiled me, and I wanted them back. Setting the stage proved easy. I stripped and laid on my bed, spread eagle and ready. Lucky me, they didn’t let me down, although they did make me come, over and over again. Taken by the spirits of Christmas—on my back, on my knees, and while suspended in the air—I screamed. I gushed. I think I might have died at one point. But in the end, they all agreed I’d still not learned my lesson and would require daily lessons. And that’s how I became the fourth Christmas ghost, the Ghost of Pleasure. The End

Author Bio Hello, my name is Eve. I'm a stay-at-home mom who works as a webmistress/customer service rep, and in between juggling my three kids, hubby, and housework, I write really raunchy stuff—usually with werewolves LOL. I was born in British Columbia, but being a military brat, I have lived a little bit everywhere—Quebec, New Brunswick, Labrador, Virginia (USA) and finally Ontario. My family and I currently reside in an historic town near Toronto. I am the first person to admit I am totally boring and lead a mundane life. Seriously. My idea of fun is shopping at our local Wal-Mart LOL. I like to play video games, cook, and read. My inspiration, hmm… I guess you could say hubby as he is a total alpha male, which means I often want to club him over head with a frying pan. But, despite his ornery, ‚I-am-man‛ nature, I love him dearly. I do have a twisted imagination and a sarcastic sense of humor, something I like to let loose in my writing. Thanks so much for reading this short story. Wishing you some happy reading and sexy times with your partner. Eve Langlais If you want to get to know Eve better, visit her website at http://www.Evelanglais.com or friend her on Facebook.