Everything is a Game
Paul opened his eyes at exactly two forty-three AM, Pacific Time, with his hands freezing and the hairs on the back of his neck standing to attention. The signs were unmistakable, much to his chagrin. He was not alone in his bedroom… again.
Hello, lover,” a mellifluous voice whispered a song of dread in his right ear. “Did you miss me?”
No,” he replied, head pressed against the pillow, the weight of her legs on his hairy back. From the corner of his eye, he could only glimpse strands of golden hair, partially obscuring a lovely yet terrifying face. “I thought you were gone for good. Why are you back?”
“Aww… don’t be like that! We always have so much fun together.”
Her name was Caroline or used to be when she was alive. Ever since she had passed away three years before, she hardly had any use for it and much preferred to be called Mistress, anyway. While she didn’t have a corporeal body anymore, she could still affect the material world as if she did, and her presence was always stronger there, the place where it all happened. Sharp nails drew a bloody line between his shoulders
“Speak for yourself,” Paul growled, trying to get up. “This is not a stupid game.”
“Everything is a game, but some people are too thick to realize it. I should know because I was once one of them.”
“Well, I don’t like it!”
“I didn’t like it either when you were the one in charge, Jake, and I endured it nonetheless. You owe me this much.”
Jake. There it was again, the cursed name, the source of all her sorrows and mistrusts. Her boyfriend since her teenage years had spent a decade showing her how deep the BDSM rabbit hole went. The early play had been fun and consensual, the source of excitement her otherwise dull life needed, but when limits were pushed and undesired fetishes brought forth, the abuse became commonplace and tragedy an inevitability. Had he known all these things prior to moving in, Paul would have never bought the place, but the real estate agent kept everything close to her vest in the name of a hefty paycheck. Now, not even all the money in the world would be enough to cover his torment.
“For the last time, Caroline, I’m not your ex! I don’t even look like him! I’m sorry about what he did to you, but you need to move on. This world is for the living. You don’t belong here.”
“This is my house!” the apparition exclaimed. “It was mine before you came along, and it will always be so. I’m not going anywhere, Jake. Ready for your medicine?”
“Please don’t…” Paul cried as he felt something hard and spiky brush against his exposed ass cheeks. Though he had never seen it for real, the jumbo-sized dildo’s touch was already too familiar, and he hated it more than words could say. “Not again! I can’t take this anymore!”
“Oh, how I remember saying those same words and getting nothing but deaf ears in reply!” she giggled. “Being on the other end sucks, doesn’t it? Of course, if you’re sure you’re not man enough for it, there’s always an alternative. What will it be, my love?”
Paul sighed. Caroline was one crazy bitch, but at least she was consistent. She always gave him a choice between external and internal pain. Either he accepted whatever implement she wanted to use, or she would push her very essence inside him, locking away his consciousness for as long as she saw fit. As awful as the prospect of sodomy was, the possession effects were a thousand times worse. Tears rolling down his dark-brown eyes, he begged,
“Please fuck me in the ass, Mistress!”
“That’s more like it. Spread them open for me. I promise I won’t be gentle tonight.”
She kept her promise. No one heard his screams.
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