Get into the Sprit, Baby
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.
Get Into the Sprit, Baby Copyright © 2009 by Christopher C. Newman, All rights reserved.
Get Into the Spirit, Baby Cover Art © 2009 Persephone’s Pomegranate
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Get into the Spirit, Baby
A Noah Ravenswood Adventure
By
Christopher Newman
Prologue
The woman ran. Out of the dilapidated house and into the thick undergrowth that had sprung up around the mansion she sprinted, in her torn panties and dangling bra. The flesh of her limbs was soon scratched and scuffed and her feet were rapidly becoming bloody. She dashed through the woods, a dark moving shape that flashed through the trees, wailing hysterically. She plunged in and out of pockets of moonlight that briefly illuminated her body. An owl perched high above the forest’s floor turned its head and watched her. Its large eyes saw the woman’s back was bloody and ragged, but not from the low branches she was plowing past. Her limbs also bore wide stripes of raw skin that completely encircled each wrist and ankle.
She burst through the forest’s edge and ran across the rocky beach. The brunette, now lit fully by the moonlight, tripped over her own feet and tumbled onto the gravel, skinning her palms, elbows, and knees. She lurched up from the ground with a sobbing cry and launched herself headlong towards the lapping water just forty feet away. She looked over her shoulder and once more went sprawling face-first across the sharp stones that littered the beach. As before, she jumped to her feet, this time with bleeding cuts running down the front of her. In the faint light it looked like she had been clawed by a pack of house cats. The blood ran thinly down her small breasts, smooth stomach, and muscular upper thighs.
She plunged into the water violently. As she ploughed into the waist deep shallows she tossed a glittering shower of sparkling drops into the night air. With a loud wail, more vocal than ones she’d previously uttered, she drove herself deeper into the river’s current. Once more she looked back from her desperate flight of terror, to see a human form standing just at the outskirts of the woods.
She screamed and screamed, paying no attention to keeping her footing, until she finally was over her head in the swirling, dangerous eddies of the fast flowing river. Her head bobbed up out of the water only twice before disappearing beneath the surface for good.
Chapter One
Nikki Cummings was sprawled across the bed, innocent of clothing other than her corset, stockings, and low boots. Beneath her body were ruby colored silk sheets with a distinct, yet tasteful paisley pattern. Her long blonde hair was fanned out around her head like the halo of an angel. Her tanned skin shone from the effects of natural sunlight.
Her large breasts strained against the tight black and pink corset that pressed her them together, creating a deep ravine of cleavage. The cups of the undergarment fell shy of containing the full bounty of her bosom. Her breasts were thrust upward to spill out over the top, exposing twin firm mounds crowned with light pink finials. Just below the hemline of the corset her flat abdomen lay like a smooth meadow. Following the slight indentation of her belly button, that fertile plain narrowed towards the delta of her loins. Like ferns growing beside a river her golden pubic hair curled. Those small tangles of hair, like neatly manicured hedges under the expert watch of a patient and caring gardener, framed her exposed womanhood.
“Oh yes… Richard,” she moaned with pleasure as her long legs rustled over the scarlet satin sheets. The man sitting beside her on the bed was wearing a lacy poet’s shirt, snug black tights, and similarly shaded knee-high, shiny riding boots. His curly black hair fell to his shoulders and glistened in the bright candlelight of the boudoir. One hand ran across her glorious flesh as the other clenched a riding crop.He tapped the flexible leather tip of the crop against the side of his boot as he rolled Nikki’s right nipple around his index finger and thumb.
“Ah, Nikki, you’re such a naughty girl,” he whispered to her as she thrashed upon his bed. “To come to a man’s bedchamber so willingly is not proper for a woman.”
“Ah but Richard,” she cooed playing, along with him. “You aren’t a proper gentleman, to bring such a foul, crude device to our bed." She pointed with one dainty finger at the leather crop in his hand. He looked at it and laughed as he took her point. He leaned down and covered his mouth with hers and they drank kisses from one another. His free hand roamed over her mountainous globes, down the smooth, taut skin of her tummy, and twirled the curls surrounding her dew-moistened labia.
“Ah!” she cried out as he ran a finger down the length of the tiny wet cleft. Her hips rolled deliciously as she reacted to his touch. He slowly parted the tender folds and pushed a single digit into her musky warmth, drawing a gasp of joy from her pink painted lips. A slow but steady blush of deepening red crept over her cheeks as he grew bolder with his hand.
“So willing, so ready,” he murmured softly as he eased a pair of fingers into her.
“Yes! Oh Richard, yes!” she sobbed out as her hips bucked in an effort to deepen his penetration. He watched as her breasts lolled around the cups of the corset. He felt her hand fall from the bed and land in his lap. Without prompting she began to knead the ever-growing hardness that was springing from his loins. He removed his sodden fingers and placed them into his mouth, savoring her salty sweet flavor. He felt her hands dance around the outline of his erection as he kicked off one boot and then the other. Placing the crop just beside her, he stood up, pulled his white shirt off and tossed it over his shoulder carelessly. She rolled over and pulled his tights down around his knees with trembling fingers. His penis fell out boldly and twitched as it dangled in the cool air of the bedroom. He saw her move forward and place a reverent kiss upon the purpled head.
“Aaah,” he moaned as she took greater liberties with his member. Soon he was enveloped by her satiny lips and pulled deeply into the warm, wet confines of her mouth. She rolled her tongue around his girth and ran her full lips down his quivering shaft. Richard’s mouth fell open as the sensations overpowered him. His fingers fluttered around her spread thighs and he finally managed to generate enough thought to slide back in the fingers he had so recently removed. Nikki moaned around the fullness in her mouth, sending shockwaves of pure delight through Richard’s body. He pumped his hips with the same rhythm he used to stroke her pussy.
“Wait,” he gasped and moved backwards, tugging his cock from her lips. He pulled off his tights with some difficulty and moved onto the bed with her. Placing his knees on either side of her head he leaned forward until his face was inches from her swollen cunt. He nuzzled the hood that surrounded her clitoris, sending her into throes of passionate squirming. He plunged his tongue deep within her tender, wet folds and lapped at the nectar that moistened it. He felt her tentative lips touch his pulsing organ again and cried out loudly as she took him back into her mouth. Her hands encircled his ass and pulled his hips downward until he was embedded so deeply that she gagged slightly. He licked and kissed her pussy; they both drank at each other’s loins.
“No… I must have more,” he hoarsely stated and pulled himself away from her body and from the depths of her mouth.
“Take it all,” she breathed, with her breasts heaving over the corset. “Take all of me!”
He rolled her over and pushed her thighs apart with his legs. She fell to her hands and knees and looked over her shoulder with her face flushed with desire. He quickly untied the knotted strings holding the corset together and it fell onto the bed just beneath her. Richard pressed the tip of his shaft into her heated cleft, spreading her labia around the very end.
“No! Don’t tease, Richard,” she cried out. “Fuck me! I want you to fuck me!”
Without a word he plunged into her, slapping his hips against her ass. He grabbed onto her hips and used that leverage to thrust harder into her quivering, hot hole. Her face fell to the sheets as she screamed with delight. Her breasts swayed back and forth with each deep, rough invasion of his thick, hard cock.
“Take it! Take me all!” he roared as he grabbed hastily at the riding crop still lying beside her on the bed. Taking it in his right hand he leaned back and began to smack her upturned cheeks. Red marks began to grace the tan hue of her backside as Richard welted her buttocks with each stroke of his organ.
“Yes! I’m a naughty girl! Punish me! Beat me, Richard!” she cried out. Her pearl white teeth captured her lower lip as both pleasure and pain coursed through her body. The blows began to fall upon her shoulders and the small of her back. The snapping of the crop accompanied the sounds of his lusty groans and her occasional yelps of torment. He dropped the crop and leaned forward. Nikki pulled her head up from the mattress and drank his lips over her right shoulder. Richard’s hips never ceased their movements as he bludgeoned her convulsing opening with his firm shaft.
“I’m going to cum,” he moaned as their kiss broke off. His hips quivered, making his bare ass dance in a jerky motion.
“Do it on my face!” she commanded him. Richard pulled from her hot cunt and tried to stand upon the still moving bed. He fell upon her and ejaculated all over her red striped back painting her flesh with his hot, thick seed.
“S-shit!” he stuttered as the weakening jets of sperm pooled on her.
“Cut! Cut!” a man’s voice rang out angrily. “What the fuck happened to the money shot, Dick?!”
“Sorry Bob; I lost my footing,” the man apologized over his shoulder, as Nikki erupted into gales of laughter.
“And you call yourself a professional,” the man standing beside the camera scolded the porn actor.
“Ease off, man,” Dick Rodman replied as a gaffer tossed him a white hand towel. “I didn’t pace myself right… we’ll get it in the next take.”
As the man cleaned off his trembling member the gaffer tossed another towel to Nikki Cummings. She caught it and began to mop up the warm sticky deposit that her co-star had left on her.
“I guess we can print that one,” Bob Ziegler groaned. “We can use some of the footage during the editing phase.”
“And how was my performance?” Nikki coyly asked the adult film’s director.
“Fabulous babe, absolutely fantastic,” he told her. He turned around as she squealed with delight and rolled his eyes skyward.
“God I’m still horny,” she complained like a spoiled child as she stood up from the tangled sheets.
“Reign in your hungers, babe,” Bob told her as he took a cup of coffee from the Best Boy. “If you get sated it will show up on film. I don’t want a lackluster performance like we just had from Dick.”
“I don’t know,” Nikki giggled. “Dick wasn’t bad.”
“Thanks, Nikki,” the male lead replied. “Give me a second and I’ll see if I can rise to the occasion.”
This sentence evoked a collective groan out of the cast and crew. Even in the porn industry it was a lame joke, unworthy of a man of Dick’s stature. As Bob moved past the set and out of the bright spotlights a nervous bleach blond woman approached, with her eyes darting all around her.
“What is it, Helen?” he asked her.
“Ah, Mr. Ziegler, we have a problem,” she tittered, like a scared spinster seeing her first naked man.
“What is it?” he repeated in a bored tone.
“Well, you sent me to find Barbie Cheeks, remember?”
“Of course I do. Where is the little bitch? She’s late for her scene with Candy Synn.”
“Ah, the Coast Guard just brought her back a few, ten minutes ago.”
“The Coast Guard? What the fuck was she doing with them?” he asked angrily. “Has everyone on this production lost what little control they have left?”
“N-nothing, Mr. Ziegler,” the woman stammered. “They found her floating ten miles down the river.”
“It’s a hell of a time to go skinny dipping!”
“She’s d-dead.”
“Pardon me?”
“She’s dead. They said she must have gone swimming last night and drifted too far from the island. I-I saw her body. Oh God, Mr. Ziegler, the fish! The fish a-ate her!”
“Calm down, Helen!” the director told her firmly as he grabbed her by the shoulders. “What do they want now?”
“They’ve ruled it an accident.”
“Do we have to shut down production?”
“They want to interview the cast and crew. But I hate to tell you that somebody contacted Mr. Brashear about this already.”
“Who did?!” he thundered, making the older woman cringe in fear.
“I don’t know!”
“Dammit! Oh well, I guess we’ll just be saddled with the Head of Production from Vibrant from now on.”
“Yes, he’s on his way now,” she quavered.
“Well there’s nothing we can do about it. Thanks for letting me know about this, Helen.”
“You’re welcome, Mr. Ziegler.”
As the woman scurried away quickly, Bob wondered how much trouble Louis Brashear was going to be on this shoot. With only 3 more weeks left on principal photography for “Nikki’s Victorian Island Adventure” it looked to be a long ordeal now that one of the actresses had gone and gotten herself drowned. He shook his head with disgust. Of all the things he had dreamed of in film school, babysitting porn actors wasn’t one of them. He thought back on the fateful day when his life took this particular turn.
***
He had just walked into the store with a sour expression on his face. His hands were thrust hard into his pants pockets with enough force that they threatened to yank the khakis off his thin hips. He didn’t know why he walked into this particular store since he was as broke as a homeless drunk after a two day bender.
He’d had the indignity of losing his job this morning. He left the movie lot only to arrive home to a darkened apartment. “I’m home, babe!” he’d called out as his voice echoed in the tight confines of the small flat. Bob walked past the postage stamp sized living room and into the back bedroom. There, perched atop his best friend Steve was his girlfriend Ilene. They stared at him and said nothing. “What the fuck is going on around here?” he demanded.
Without warning his girlfriend started laughing at his expression. “Poor pathetic Bobby,” she snarled, once her voice had descended sufficiently from howling with laughter. “You’re too busy with your stupid career to take care of my needs! I just found somebody with time on their hands!”
“Dude, I’m sorry,” Steve stammered as he rolled the naked woman off his lap and tried to cover up his wet erection.
Too shocked to say or do anything, Bob had meekly walked out of his own apartment, only to witness his car being impounded by the LAPD. He remembered having really nowhere else to go. So he’d hit the streets looking for something, anything that would allow him to dodge the suicidal thoughts he was having and pull his life out of the gutter it had fallen into. He passed business after business, evaded the early morning prostitutes, and ignored the drunks and bag ladies when he came across them.
The sign simply said, “The Curiosity Shoppe”. Without a second thought he decided to go inside for a look around. As he walked deeper into the musty smelling shop he let his gaze fell randomly where it may. He noticed that the shopkeeper, a wizened old black man, was eyeing him suspiciously. The oldster’s deep brown eyes followed Bob wherever he went. Though his back was bowed and his hands gnarled with large painful looking arthritic joints, the nappy gray haired head turned slowly to follow as his only customer strolled aimlessly around his accumulated wares.
“Lookin’ for somethin’ special, boy?” the old man said in a hoarse, questioning tone.
“Nah, just browsing,” he answered.
“What’s your name, sonny?”
“Bob… Bob Ziegler,” he replied off handedly.
“Well, Mr. Ziegler, can’t help ya out if’n ya don’t tell me what ya need.”
“Ha!” Bob laughed in a sharp sarcastic tone. “How about a job, a new girlfriend, and the money to get my car out of the impound lot? Do you have anything like that in this dump?”
“Got troubles, do ya?” The old black man wheezed with laughter.
“Are you deaf? I just said as much!”
“Now there ain’t no need to be gettin’ all bent outta shape. Mind your manners, boy,” the shopkeeper chastised his customer. “What did ya do for a livin’?”
“Just graduated film school…”
“Thought ya said ya lost a job?”
“I was working on a film with Paramount. But…”
“Go on.”
“The lead actress accused me of coming on to her… so I got booted from the production,” Bob spat with contempt.
“Women-folk can be cruel, boy.”
“No shit, old-timer.”
“So you have some dreams, I imagine? Wanna be the next Spielberg, eh?”
“That’d be nice.” Bob smiled with a wistful expression.
“I can’t help ya there,” the gray haired store owner confessed. “But I do have me a camera… it’s an old one, now mind ya. But I bet ya it’ll see better use in yer hands than some o’ the crackheads that come in here.”
“Really?” Bob suddenly became very interested in the old man’s ramblings. If he had a camera he might just be able to get started in documentaries, or even a no-budget independent film. His forehead broke out in sweat and his lips grew dry and itchy just at the thought of obtaining a camera.
“Now this thing ain’t top o’ the line… well, it was in its day. But it’ll take pictures none-the-same,” the old man drawled as he limped from behind the counter. Bob saw he was a bent specimen, crookedly holding himself up with a black cane. The silver top of the cane was lost in the man’s bony hand. He was painfully thin, to the point that Bob thought he might just break in half from moving too fast.
He followed the elderly black man into the back of the store with his breath hitching in his throat from excitement at the prospect of owning the before mentioned piece of film equipment. Bob passed by the dusty coats, cracked leather shoes, and other clothing that was on display in the back of the curio shop. He tagged along behind the stooped old man until they passed through a pair of dingy gray curtains separating the front of the store from the back. Walking past those clinging drapes he flinched; he felt as if he had just passed through a spider’s web. He was still brushing off his shirt when he nearly collided with the elder shopkeeper who was standing in front of him with a wide smile.
In his hands was a Super-8 movie camera that was straight out of the sixties. It looked older than Moses and perhaps it was. Just as he was about to say, “forget it” the oldster conjured up from behind his back a box of film for the ancient device.
“Well boy, what do ya think?” he cackled with glee.
“Does it work?” Bob said, hoping that the answer would be no.
“By Jove, it sure does!”
Gently he took the camera from the old man’s hands and turned it around, examining it carefully. He could see that it was a 1973 model with the sound-on-film upgrade-- an amazing upgrade from the original 1965 silent version. He imagined the things he could do with the 18-to-24 frames per second movie recorder. The model was a sound one; only in 2005 had it finally been replaced by the ISO 64 Ektachrome series.
“Look, mister,” Bob began, with a shake of his head. “I haven’t a penny to my name. I can tell you’re being really thoughtful but I can’t buy this. No matter how low the price is.”
“Well I’ll tell ya what.” The old goat grinned. “I figured as much. But if’n you’ll do me a favor I’ll give you this here camera for free.”
“Let me guess,” Bob said, with sarcasm filling his words. “You want my soul, right?”
“Hah! That there is a funny one, boy! Your soul-- what would I do with a thing like that?!”
Bob watched as the old man chortled and coughed out his wheezing laughter. Suddenly he wished he hadn’t come in here at all.
“Lookie here,” the old man said, as he finally got a hold of himself. He winked at Bob and motioned with his hand to follow him further into the back of the shop. Bob looked around and saw a cane with a dog’s head sticking out of a wooden barrel next to a table piled with old movie magazines. He snatched it up and stuck it behind his back, just in case the old geezer was attempting to trick him into something both deadly and undesired. They came to a set of winding metal stairs that climbed upwards into the dust laden air of the shop. Their footfalls echoed thinly in the large back room as Bob followed the old man. They came to a walkway, more like a catwalk in a movie studio than anything else. As they wove around boxes piled haphazardly in the way they finally got to where the old man came to a sudden stop. Bob watched as the old fart put a wrinkled, bent finger to his lips and winked once more with all the seriousness of a sideshow barker. He pointed with the same warped digit out a grimy window to Bob’s right.
The young man looked out across a small alleyway and into the window of a studio apartment next door the old man’s stop. It was a vision that once seen made his heart skip in his chest. A tightness constricted his throat as he gazed upon the sight beyond the dusty pane. There, dancing in all her naked glory, was a gorgeous woman about the age of twenty-one. Her chocolate skin glistened from with her honest exertion as she bounced to the rhythm of a pounding hip-hop beat. Somewhere amid the carnal desire racing through his mind he realized that she was exercising. Her tight curly hair was low to her scalp, creating a sort of skullcap. Her cheekbones were high and prominent upon her face. Her full lips, void of any cosmetic treatment, were lush and a lighter shade than her candy colored flesh. Her slender neck held her head up majestically and melded it perfectly onto her shoulders. Her heavy, full breasts danced and jiggled with every movement she made. Her narrow waist flowed into wide hips that supported a thick, full backside, rolling and wiggling along with her swaying bosom. Occasionally she would lift her long legs high enough for Bob to see her limbs as they rose above the lower portion of the window. His mouth grew dry and parched as her thin arms and delicate hands wove upward and around her as she rocked to the beat of the stereo. She swung her hips deliciously as she gyrated to the sexually explicit words of the rapper’s song.
“A vision of pure heaven, ain’t she?” the old man breathed, finishing with a gasp.
“S-she’s beautiful,” Bob managed to choke out as the voyeuristic moment threatened to overwhelm his senses.
“She does this every morning. When I’m feeling a mite peckish I come up here to get a bit of energy from her dancin’.” The old man grinned lustily.
“So what does this have to do with me getting that camera of yours?”
“I’d like to immortalize her on celluloid, boy,” he chuckled with another wink. “But ya see my old hands can’t seem to hold that there camera up without shakin’. Now for a strong, young man like yourself-- I reckon that ya could do it just fine.”
“So the price of this camera is a possible charge of peeping tom and illegal photography?”
“Hell boy, she can’t see in here! Plus if’n ya do get caught I’ll say it was me behind that there lens. So does we have an accord?”
Bob thought about it hard. His brow furrowed with concentration as he wondered if the price was too high. He looked about and saw that he could stack boxes up to hide his activity. A drop cloth here, a light there, and a few other added extras and she’d never suspect a thing. As he clutched the cane behind him he smiled knowing that she’d look really good on the black-and-white film with her dark body contrasting nicely to the white wall behind her. The early morning sun would add an extra lighting effect that might just make it well worth the effort. A cold chill went running up his spine-- he realized he was planning on doing it.
“So,” the old man interrupted his thoughts. “Do we have an agreement, Mr. Robert Ziegler?”
“Sure. I’ll shoot this homemade porno for you, old man.” Bob laughed at the man’s lusty expression.
“Then put ‘er there, boy,” the shopkeeper said as he stuck out his hand. Bob shook and realized that there was quite a bit of grip to the old timer.
“When do I get started? You want her entire session filmed, right?”
“As right as rain, old son. Come back here tomorrow just before dawn. I’ll let ya in the back door so nobody suspects a thing.”
“Okay, it’s your call. I suppose you’ll use this in good health,” he said, launching a verbal jab at the wrinkled black man.
“Oh I don’t know about that. But one day she might be a star, and I can sell this here footage for a goodly fortune.”
“Fine,” Bob said; suddenly his day seemed just a sliver brighter than before. “I’ll see you here at daybreak.”
***
“Oh, Bob,” the blonde haired starlet cooed as she carefully caressed his hard length with her long delicate fingers. Bob’s legs thrashed, spilling the red silk bedsheets all over the floor. Her touch was both electrifying and hot, causing him to momentarily lose control of his body. Her digits fluttered over his trembling cock like the wings of some erotic butterfly. She was a hot bodied vixen with a bubble butt, long legs, sun-kissed skin, and a pair of breasts that were as firm as the melons they resembled. She pushed those gorgeous plump globes into his armpit as she fondled him.
“Oh yeah… baby,” he moaned as he took a firm handful of her left breast. With a musical laugh she began to slide her naked body across his until they were face-to-face. Her mouth covered his in a soft wet kiss that stole his breath and made him gasp for air. She rubbed her legs against the side of him, making him ache with desire. With a quick kiss and a coy grin the actress slowly pulled herself down towards his raging hard-on, kissing his skin. He felt like pure delight, as if delight was something you could touch and hold. He quivered with anticipation as she flowed downward stilling his sluggishly moving legs. As she came to a stop he enjoyed the fact that she covered his lower half, pinning him to the mattress. He couldn’t run away if he wanted to, and he really didn’t want to. He groaned as he delighted in the luxury of becoming covered by her smooth skin. Her hot form heated him more than the fire which popped and sizzled a comfortable few feet from the foot of the bed.
“Ooh so nice and firm,” she drawled, sending warm waves of her breath across his aching shaft.
“W-what are you gonna do?” he whispered, as if he didn’t know what she was up to. He watched as her full red lips parted and her pink tongue neared the very tip of his manhood. Suddenly there was a horrible sound, an electronic beeping that seemed to shake the very walls of the room. Horrified, he leaped to his feet-- only to find himself alone in his cheaply furnished apartment with his alarm clock shrilly screaming.
“Son-of-a-bitch!” he swore strongly. “I can’t even get a break in my own dreams!”
Bob rubbed his eyes and looked at the clock. He had twenty minutes to get to the curio shop to film the masturbation video for that old goat. He didn’t bother to shower. He just shucked on a pair of jeans from off the floor and pulled out a clean shirt from his dresser. Stuffing his feet into a pair of old Nikes, he shuffled into the small, dirty kitchen for some toast and cup of foul tasting instant coffee.
***
Bob pounded on the back door of the store as he nervously eyed the drunk sleeping against the big garbage dumpster. The shabbily dressed gray-beard was snoring loudly and clutching a bottle of cheap wine against his withered chest. Near his right hand was the remains of a cheeseburger probably stolen from the container he was leaning on. The alley he had walked through to get here was as bad as any he had seen in any movie. The whole morning, from the dream up until now, had taken on a very surreal quality.
Bob turned to hammer his fist upon the door once more when it opened unexpectedly. Standing there was the old black man with a grin splitting his face.
“Didn’t think ya was gonna come back, boy,” he wheezed as he let Bob inside the musty smelling back room. “I don’t think much about people nowadays. They gives and breaks their word so easily. A man’s word is his bond, don’t ya think?”
“I do. I need that camera and you want that chick next door filmed. I guess that makes both of us men of our desires, if not our word.”
“Indeed, that indeed we are.”
He passed the old man by and went up the spiral metal steps to set up his camera blind. Bob toiled quietly while the old man watched him. He really wanted to know what that smirk on his face was for, but the elderly shopkeeper wasn’t about to tell him.
“Ya got about four minutes ‘til show time,” the lecherous old coot finally muttered.
“I’m ready. I’m just waiting for the leading lady to begin her performance,” Bob replied sarcastically.
As if on cue, there she was, a chocolate dream on two sexy legs. She stepped up to the boom box wearing a white cotton robe that fell only to mid-thigh. The contrast of her garb with her skin only heightened her beauty. She pressed a button on the electronic device and the raucous sounds of Snoop Dog began to pound across the narrow gap between the buildings. Bob put his eye to the viewfinder and began to film. Doffing the white garment she stood there bold and naked and began to shake her body to the thumping bass of the song. The young woman’s gyrations were, like yesterday, exciting and exhilarating. Her firm young body bounced and spun in the confines of the private dance club within her apartment. Her ass jiggled with fleshy delight, her large breasts bobbed and swayed, and her hips shimmed around to and fro as she danced. Bob wasn’t immune to the woman’s charms and his underwear became tight and uncomfortable as he swelled with excitement. Sweat began to pour down his forehead and he was forced to stop looking through the camera to wipe away the perspiration.
Putting his eye back to the viewer he noticed a red mist that began to flow up the side of the building just beneath the woman’s rocking form. It gathered below like an odd storm cloud directly in the center of the camera’s viewfinder. It began to flash and strobe with an eerie yellow light that zigzagged all across its wispy shape. “What the hell is that?” he asked himself, as the strange smoke seemed to flow into a crack in the window and coalesce into a human form just behind her.
The smoke congealed into a red skinned creature with small black horns on its forehead. An ebony stripe of thick fur ran down the center of its head, down its back, and onto a thrashing tail equipped with an insect-like barb. The tip of the tail looked like an oversized bee stinger and dripped a clear liquid that hissed onto the floor. A goat’s legs grew out of the being’s waist equipped with black fetlocks that flowed downward to cover all but the tips of its shiny ebony split hooves. The demonic figure turned to him, flashed a jagged toothy smile, and waved with a black taloned hand.
“I’m seeing things,” he muttered and ran a hand across his eyes before pressing his forehead back to the camera. But the figure was still there. It put a finger to its black lips as it moved closer to the swaying dancer. A gorge of bile rose in Bob’s throat as he watched the creature become sexually stimulated. A thick, barbed penis began to poke out of the mass of tangled, curly hair that was twisted about the demon’s loins.
“No,” Bob whined with a pitiful sound as the dark being spooned up against its victim. She looked quickly over her shoulder, startled by the thing behind her. The goat-demon reached around and cupped those chocolate mounds that rolled on her chest and pinched at her darker nipples. The woman’s head lolled back onto the demon’s shoulder then and she smiled with a lazy, almost drugged appearance. Bob’s heart began to race as the woman reached behind her and grabbed the creature’s hips, pulling the demon tight against her plump ass. Bob could hear his breathing, harsh and quick, as the two ground into one another; the woman wordlessly accepted her demonic visitor as if he was one of her lovers. The music pounded onward as the clawed hands slid slowly from her breasts and down her flat stomach. He watched as she parted her legs, bent forward, and pumped her backside up and down against the demon’s crotch. The infernal visitor grabbed her hips and pretended to fuck her with hard thrusts. Bob stared as she threw her head back in mock orgasmic delight and clutched her swinging breasts in both hands.
“She’s under some spell,” Bob mused, past the hot voyeuristic images swirling in his brain. “She can’t possibly be seeing the same thing I am!”
She pushed away, and Bob thought for just a moment that she had come to her senses. Maybe the enchantment upon her had been broken somehow and she was going to scream for the cops any second now. But no, she dropped to her knees and took the creature’s huge phallus with both hands. She licked her lips and touched just the tip of her tongue to its bulbous and veined end. The demon placed a hand on her head and moved its hips forward. Bob gasped out loud as she took the head of it into her mouth, pushing past her thick lips, her cheeks spreading out due to its girth. The tightness in his pants grew too much for Bob and he undid his zipper and loosed his throbbing cock from the unyielding restriction of his briefs. As he stroked himself he watched the woman bob her head up and down on the thick shaft clasped between her lips. Her right hand fell between her legs and she began to lazily rub her swollen pussy. Bob managed to zoom forward to catch her fingers stroking her hooded clitoris until it became engorged and visible in the camera’s lens. She dipped a finger into her pussy slowly and began to pump her hips hesitantly. He zoomed back out to see the creature give him a thumbs-up sign and chuckle. Bob’s hand firmly ran across his cock as she stood up and turned to deeply kiss her unholy lover.
The demon led her over to the window directly in front of Bob, where she placed her hands on the panes. Her heavy breasts swung back and forth as she positioned herself and spread her long sexy legs. Bob watched her face become a darker mask of hot lust as the goat legs pushed her thighs farther apart. Her mouth fell open and her upper body shook violently as the demon stuffed his incredible length deep into her with a slow thrust. Her eyes fluttered and her breath fogged the dirty glass as she tried to accommodate the width of that invading fleshy object. Bob released his grip on his own shaft and zoomed in, filling the viewfinder with her beautiful face. Tears stood in her eyes as he watched her mouth the words, “slow, baby… please go slow” over and over.
“Oh god,” Bob whimpered with his hand around his cock once more. “She can’t take it!”
Bob’s silent thought was amazingly accurate; the imp began to piston his hips, driving his massive organ into the dancer’s tight clenched confines. He zoomed out as she began to beg him to stop, to slow up, to take it easy on her poor pussy. Her hands clenched into tight fists as she started to scream in a strange combination of pleasure and pain. Bob’s eyes became glued to the soft cushion of the eyepiece as the demon grabbed the woman’s shoulders and brutally increased his pace. Her breasts and right cheek were squashed flat against the window pane. Tears ran down the dirty window and she began to beat against the glass with her fists.
Bob’s ears suddenly picked up the shouts for help. The sounds of the demonic encounter were just the extra sensation that punched his ticket. Bob couldn’t hold back any longer and his fist flew across his rock hard length. Without warning and a loud groan that burst from his lips he lost control completely. Bob’s cock twitched with an internal Herculean struggle and soon hot, sticky warmth covered his knuckles as he spewed across his fist. His legs trembled, threatening to spill him onto the dirty floor of the upper balcony of the curiosity store.
“No! Stop it!” he heard her screaming as he managed to put his eye back onto the viewer. Her face and breasts were being jerked sadistically across the glass. He heard the creature chuckle. It was a deep, horrible sound that shriveled his penis faster than the cool air of the store.
“It hurts! Oh God it hurts so bad!” she bellowed as the demon roared in anticipation of his own climax. There was a flurry of violent thrusts that rammed the dancer’s face into the window that ended with the demon throwing his head back and crying out loudly as he ejaculated into his shrieking partner’s opening.
“Cold… too cold!” she yelled as the vile imp bucked his hips one final time. The thrust was so strong that the woman’s head shattered the glass and sent a shower of shards towards the alley floor between the buildings. He could see through the optic lens that she was stunned and confused from the impact. He zoomed back to watch as the creature grabbed her by the back of the head and ran her delicate throat against the jagged remnants of the window pane. Her flesh parted and an explosion of scarlet burst from her neck, painting the side of the building with a rush of blood. A splattering of blood drops dotted the window of the curio shop, enough to be seen by the camera lens, but not enough to obstruct its view.
Bob gaped with a dropped jaw as the demon thrust his hips forward for good measure. Unbelievably it then leaned forward to gently kiss the back of the dead woman’s head lovingly. The creature pulled his spent cock from her ruined pussy and waved at Bob a final time before disappearing back into the same scarlet steam he had appeared from, leaving her corpse hanging half in, half out of the window. He shut the camera off in a daze, as a steady trickle of the victim’s blood ran down the bricks of the building across from him.
Chapter Two
“There you go, Mrs. Dylan,” Sarah said to the middle-aged customer as she put her purchase into a brown paper bag.
“Thank you, Sarah,” the mousy brown haired woman responded as she adjusted her ill-fitting glasses once more. Dorothy Dylan had been a loyal customer of “Ravenswood’s Books and Artifacts” for many years. Sarah knew her story well; the first tarot reading ever done for Dorothy was by Noah’s mother, Hanna. Like most who had known her, Dorothy missed Hannalore’s smiling face terribly. Although she’d been dead these twenty-six years, it was times like these that Sarah really wished she had met the woman who’d raised her friend and business partner.
“Tell Mr. Dylan I said hello, won’t you?”
“I sure will. Say, is it true?”
“Is what true?”
“About Mr. Ravenswood’s girlfriend?” the nervous woman inquired. “Lois Cutter down at the library told Anne Wilkins who told me at the grocery store that Mr. Ravenswood is going to be a father.”
“I really couldn’t say,” Sarah answered politically. “Noah doesn’t tell me much about his personal life.”
It was a bald faced lie, but since she referred to Noah as “Mr. Ravenswood” it sent a signal to the thin woman that Noah didn’t trust Dorothy with any personal information. As a matter of fact, if he found out that the neighbors were gossiping about Rosa’s condition he’d probably give the inquisitive woman a verbal dressing down.
“You’ll tell me if you find out, right?” Dorothy continued with her mild interrogation.
“You’ll be the first one on my list,” Sarah fibbed with a grin. Dorothy smiled brightly, clutched her purchase against her thin chest and strolled out of the door. Sarah nearly burst into laughter as the woman walked across the street. She was headed right for Anne Wilkins’ laundromat, which faced the occult bookshop across Main Street.
“I bet that’s going to be an interesting conversation,” Sarah chuckled to herself. She shut the cash register’s drawer and picked up her crossword puzzle. She was pondering 25 Down when the phone rang. She looked at the caller ID but it only said “Cell Phone”.
“Ravenswood’s Books and Artifacts; can I help you?” she said sweetly into the phone.
“Yes, I am looking for a Mr. Noah Ravenswood,” the man said in a deep strong voice. “Is he in, please?”
“May I ask who’s calling?”
“My name is Louis Brashear; I’m a film producer.”
“I’m Mr. Ravenswood’s associate; maybe I can help you,” Sarah replied. She knew that Noah hated to be bothered with for trivial matters especially now with all the turmoil in his life. She decided to see what the caller wanted first before bothering him.
“I’m interested in obtaining his services,” the man said with a commanding tone. “Is it true he conducts discreet psychic investigations?”
“Yes, that’s true. Mr. Ravenswood and I have been in the business for over twelve years.”
“Perhaps I could speak to him directly, then,” the would-be client suggested, but it sounded like a demand.
“I see; wait one moment and I’ll get him.”
Sarah pressed a button under the counter, which rang an alarm upstairs. The button was used for many reasons. Mostly it was to let Noah know that Sarah needed him. Occasionally it was used if a suspicious person or persons entered the store.
“Like that nasty Satanist a few weeks ago,” Sarah thought to herself. The skinny, acne-scarred woman had been staring through the window for a few minutes. She was petite, about five foot six inches with dark red hair and a battered pasty white complexion. Sarah noted her dark sunglasses hid the woman’s eyes quite effectively. She peered into the shop as if she was looking for someone or something in particular. When she’d finally tried to enter, waves of negative energy coursed over the threshold and washed over Sarah. All her internal psychic alarms went off as the wards blocked the woman from completely entering. She stood there and scowled at Sarah for a moment, and then turned and walked down the street.
She was still pondering the previous strange occurrence when the bald headed wizard came into the shop. “What do you need now, Sarah?” he asked in a disgusted tone. Sarah wasn’t sure if he was overly grouchy because Rosa was pregnant, or from a lack of sleep, or that it was just one of Noah’s typical mood swings. Rosa was forty-four years old and this pregnancy wasn’t going as smoothly as she would have liked. The morning sickness was barely beginning but the poor woman was nauseated most of the time. Sarah joked often that it was Noah’s company making her sick. Once in a while that even got a laugh, but not lately.
“We have a client on the line,” she answered him politely.
“Put it on speaker phone,” he groused as he sat down on a stool behind the counter. Sarah pressed a button on the new phone and cleared her throat. The phone was only a year old and Sarah still missed the old style phone that had gotten smashed when the wraith had broken into the shop back then.
“This is Noah Ravenswood,” the occultist said, in the phone’s general direction. “How can I help you?”
“Mr. Ravenswood, my name is Louis Brashear and I’m a producer for Vibrant Productions out of Hollywood, California,” the man stated.
“You make pornos, don’t you?” Noah retorted with a smirking grin.
“Yes, that is correct; we produce adult entertainment films.”
“If this is about an offer to make a film out of my life I’m not amused.”
“Hardly, Mr. Ravenswood. I need you and your associates’ particular talents for a problem I’m having at a location shoot,” Brashear explained politely, despite Noah’s gruff tone.
“May I ask who recommended me?”
“Somebody working on the production told us about you. They said a friend used your services with quite a pleasant result.”
“Interesting. What exactly happened that you need my help with?”
“Well,” Brashear began, “we’re shooting a new film on Bachmann Island in the Saint Lawrence Seaway. You’ve heard of the Thousand Islands, right?”
“Yes; and not just the salad dressing,” Ravenswood interjected.
“Anyway, principal photography got started last week and strange things have been occurring at night. I was called to the set by one of the crew to investigate these things in person. This was, of course, after one of the cast members apparently went swimming in the river and drowned.”
“That’s hardly a job for me. Sounds like you need the police,” Noah interrupted.
“The authorities have been here already. But they’ve ruled it a case of ‘misadventure’ and left it at that. The soundman who emailed me has confirmed that there have been several reports of sleepwalking amongst the cast and crew. None of them have previously had this condition. So I’ve done some research on the island, only to find that it was once a brothel run by a wealthy man named Wellington and his Jamaican voodoo lover named Mama Jujube. Apparently they ran a very exclusive whorehouse from the mansion here on the island. All sorts of exotic, kinky, and unusual fetishes were offered here until a pack of Bible thumpers descended upon them and lynched them all, here on the mansion’s grounds. The sound man even sent to me a digital recording of strange chanting that he has been hearing on a regular basis. I listened to it and quite frankly, it scared the crap out of me.”
“You think your film crew has disturbed the ghosts of the former owners, then?” Sarah asked the porno producer.
“Yes; something like that. Will you take the job? Vibrant Productions will pay you handsomely if you can solve this problem discreetly and quickly. The film we are shooting stands to make a lot of money, but if I’m forced to abandon this location I could jeopardize my lead actress’ contract and lose her to a rival company.”
Sarah looked at Noah and shrugged her shoulders. They hadn’t had a serious offer like this since Noah’s former Marine comrades came calling last year. Since then it’d been the usual humdrum jobs banishing spirits, cleansing houses, and reversing enchantments. For Sarah, it was a healing time, since she’d suffered an attack upon her person. Even though the wraith had “healed” her of the insanity from Randy Stevens’ rape, she still had to go to a therapist who’d prescribed an anti-depressant. Her boyfriend, Peyton Jennings, had been very understanding and helpful on her road to recovery. In fact, she suspected that the skinny younger man was about to propose marriage to her. She smiled inwardly since she had just ironed out the particulars of Noah and Rosa’s handfasting ceremony.
“We’ll take the job, Mr. Brashear,” Noah said, to no surprise on Sarah’s part. She knew this was something that the wizard wouldn’t pass up. Noah liked a challenge and they came up way too infrequently for him.
“Wonderful,” the man said, honestly sounding relieved. “I will make all the necessary travel arrangements and I’ll call you later to confirm everything with you.”
“We’ll be waiting for your call, Mr. Brashear,” Sarah responded.
“Good. I’ll be in touch; goodbye.”
The phone went dead and Sarah hung it up by pressing a button. She turned to her friend and watched as his brow furrowed with contemplation. She always enjoyed watching the wheels turn in Noah’s mind. “So,” she began with a grin. “What are you going to tell Rosa?”
“She won’t like being left behind,” Noah told the smiling woman.
“Do you plan on taking her with us?”
“I don’t think she can make the trip, quite frankly. This expecting a kid thing isn’t going over very well. Doctor Samson told me that because of her age, this is considered a ‘high risk’ pregnancy.”
“What are you going to do then?” Sarah asked, her curiosity overwhelming her.
“I’m going to leave it up to Rosa,” Noah said with a smile. “That way I can’t be guilty of anything. I don’t want her to feel that I’m not worried about her; I am. But if she feels up to the traveling, and the doctor says it’s okay, then I’m not going to force her to stay here.”
“Funny, you don’t sound like the Noah I remember. Could it be that you’re evolving into a human being?”
“Ha ha,” Noah replied sarcastically. “Don’t you have anything else to think about?”
“Not at the moment.”
“Fine, I’ll leave you to your ponderings,” Noah said with a sigh. “I’m going back upstairs to see if the pregnant lady needs anything.”
“Be nice; she’s in a family way.”
“Don’t I know it.”
“How do you feel about becoming a father?”
“I’m excited; pretty nervous, too,” Noah admitted with a sheepish grin.
“Well, I guess you’ll do just fine. Is Mama Fonti coming up from Niles for tomorrow’s ceremony?”
“Yes, and she’s bringing food, the twins, and most of the family. Maybe you’ll put some meat on that scrawny frame of yours.”
“Fuck you, Ravenswood,” Sarah said half-heartedly. “My man likes my body.”
“I shudder to even think about that.”
“Good,” Sarah retorted as he headed for the back stairs. “The thought of you ogling my body makes me feel dirty.”
Surprisingly she managed to get the last word in as Noah went through the door without even so much as giving her the finger. In her mind, she chalked one up for her side.
***
Noah climbed the stairs, heading towards possible confrontation with his live-in lover. The occultist worried that she would insist on going with them to Bachmann Island. Not because she couldn’t handle the task. No, she had proved herself more than capable of dealing with the Shadow World. He just didn’t want anything to happen to her. Since she’d moved in with him a year ago, Rosa had become even more precious to Noah. So many times he’d get home late from a client’s house only to find her sitting up waiting for him. Rosa actually listened to his complaints, comments, and ranting. She made suggestions he had put into practice for making his tasks easier. Incredibly, she had become such an intricate part of his life he’d be lost without her.
“Then she turns up pregnant,” he laughed to himself. They had been lying in bed one morning when she suddenly sat up and ran to the bathroom. The door slammed shut, cutting him off from seeing what was going on. He heard the toilet flush a few minutes later and Rosa came back to bed with a silly grin on her face.
“Are you alright?” he asked from his seated position.
“I am now,” she giggled. “But you’re going to have to get used to this happening every morning for a few weeks.”
“Maybe Sarah and I can find an herbal remedy that you can take,” he told her, oblivious to what she was implying.
“Noah, sweetheart,” she laughed. “You can’t cure pregnant.”
“I’m sorry,” he said in a stunned voice. “What did you say?”
“I’m pregnant.”
“How did that happen?” he’d asked, momentarily confounded by her statement.
“Noah Ravenswood! How can you know all about wraiths, barghests, guardian spirits, and tarot cards but not know about the ‘birds and the bees’?”
What she was saying finally had sunk into his skull and he’d begun to smirk. His mind went blank and all he could think to do was laugh. It was a booming chuckle that rumbled from deep within his chest and roared out of his mouth.
“Are you sure?” he asked as his laughter faded.
“I’ve been pregnant before,” Rosa answered. “I’ve got all the signs, but I’ll get a pregnancy test from the local Rite-Aid just to be on the safe side. Now wipe off that stupid grin and come give me a hug.”
He laughed at the memory still. Telling Sarah was equally funny, as the younger woman actually was at a loss for words for the first time Noah could recall.
As he entered the apartment he saw that Rosa was sitting at the table nursing a cup of chamomile tea. Her usual caramel complexion was a bit paler since she didn’t feel all that good. It had only been two months and the throwing up had passed, but the nausea remained still.
“I don’t think it would be wise of her to travel,” he muttered to himself as he shut the door behind him. “But I’m not going to argue with her.” Between her natural feistiness, Italian passions, and raging hormones it would be a losing battle.
“What did Sarah want, babe?” she inquired. Despite looking like she was about to vomit, Rosa was still absolutely beautiful.
“We have a job,” Noah replied as he crossed the living room and sat down beside her. He kissed her on the temple and reached for his cup of coffee. As he took a drink he realized it had gone cold. He stood back up and went over to the pot to heat it up.
“Anything interesting?”
“As a matter of fact, yes,” Noah answered. “An adult film producer thinks the cast and crew have disturbed the spirits of an old abandoned mansion during the filming. He wants us to fly up as soon as we can. Apparently there has been a rash of sleepwalking and strange noises. One of the cast died when she walked into the river and drowned.”
“Where is this porno movie being shot?”
“On an island in the Saint Lawrence Seaway.”
“I suppose you want me to stay home?” she asked, cutting straight to the chase. Noah took a deep breath and then began speaking.
“No, actually I’m going to ask you if you want to go along with Sarah and me,” Noah said honestly to her. “I’m not going to order you around like a slave. If you want to come along you’re more than welcome, babe.”
There was an uncomfortable silence for a moment and then she smiled at him.“Well I’ll think I’ll pass this time,” she said, with a laugh at his surprise. “After experiencing hell hounds, demons, and a wraith, I think I’m in no condition to fight at your side.”
“Are you sure?”
“Noah, I’m carrying our child. Quite frankly I’m too damn tired, cranky, and sick to be traipsing after ghosts. Besides, I’m looking forward to running the business by myself. I didn’t think I’d like it, but it’s been really challenging and rewarding.”
“Okay, I’ll abide by your decision then. I’m going to miss you.”
“I’m going to miss you too,” she replied. “How long will you be gone?”
“I don’t know. It could be a day or it could be a month. I’ll know when I get there.”
“When are you leaving?” she asked with a pout.
He walked around the table with his cup of coffee and kissed her on the lips. She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him fiercely.
“Not for long, I promise,” he murmured into her hair.