The Horny Sorority Ghost (Part III)

Continued from Part II

It was Halloween and a Wednesday, so the big party wasn’t until Friday, but that didn’t mean the girls couldn’t still have some holiday fun.

They lounged on the couches in the basement and watched spooky movies and munched on candy corn and giggled whenever something startled them, which was often.

In between movies, Chelsea went and grabbed a box from the closet. “I’ve got a surprise for everyone…”

The girls leaned in.

“Since Amber seems to believe this house is haunted—”

“You said it first!” Amber insisted.

Chelsea ignored her. “I thought it would be fun to break out the old ouija board and get a real answer once and for all.” Chelsea opened the box and placed the board on the ground between them.

The girls leaned in closer. 

Chelsea said, “Jess, Amber, help me out here.” The two girls giggled nervously, but obliged. They each put their fingers on the planchette and waited. 

“What should we ask first?” Chelsea said. 

Eddie felt an inexplicable draw to the board and reasoned that it wouldn’t hurt to have a little fun. Before any of the girls could answer, she looped an invisible finger through the hole in the planchette and pulled it over the printed word ‘hello’.

All eyes widened and the girls looked at each other, then giggled. 

Amber said, “Hello! Ummm… My name is Amber. What’s yours.”

Eddie spelled out, E, D, D, I, E.

“Eddie? A boy?”

Eddie quickly pulled the planchette to ‘no’. Then E, D, I, T, H.

Chelsea raised an eyebrow. “A grandma ghost?” 

Chelsea, Amber, and Jess each smirked and looked at each other knowingly, sure that one of the other two girls was steering the planchette. 

Eddie pulled the planchette to ‘no’ again. 

“Have you been dead a long time?” Chelsea asked.


“How old are you?”

1, 5, 0.

“What about when you died?”

2, 0.

Chelsea grinned. “Well I daresay that makes her an honorary member of the sorority, wouldn’t you?”

Borrowing from her peeks at the girls’ phones, Eddie spelled T, Y. 

“So,” Amber said, “Oh friendly sorority spirit. What do you want, haunting this house?”

Eddie had already answered before she thought she maybe should be more subtle. C, U, M.

The girls burst into giggles.

“Chelsea!” Amber said.

“What?! We all know it’s you!”

“Nuh uh!”

The argument devolved into tickling and shoving and the board lay forgotten in the middle of them.

Finally, they settled back in, Amber wiping tears of laugher from her eyes. “Oh man, a horny sorority ghost, that’s something.”

Eddie, forgetting a moment how the board was supposed to work, moved the planchette to ‘yes’ even though none of them were touching it. 

All eyes were wide. Nobody giggled, that time.

Chelsea blinked. “Did anyone else just see that?”

All the others nodded. 

“Jess? Amber? Swear on your life, were you steering that earlier?” 

They both swore. Chelsea did too.

One of the other girls said, “Do you really think…”

“I saw a ghost, once,” said another. 

“My aunt swears they’re real,” said another. 

“W-what do we do?”

“Well,” Chelsea said, either now comfortable with the idea or mustering her courage for the benefit of the other girls, “If it’s cum she wants, then I daresay Friday’s party will satisfy.”

Eddie couldn’t quite remember what parties had been like during her first life, but she was sure that this was very, very different.

Loud music came out of a metal and plastic box. Alcohol was distributed in flimsy red cups and the dancing was not organized at all. The costumes were all sorts of things, most of which Eddie did not recognize. The ones that she could identify were a pharaoh queen, a dog, and a mouse. 

The rest represented decades of celebrities and entertainment characters, a world that Eddie was just beginning to discover with her stolen peeks at the girls’ phones and laptops and movie nights.

The sexual energy of the party was incredible. The air was alive with energy and sweat and desire, and as alcohol flowed, libidos rose.

Eddie followed her instincts to the current hot spot of arousal, which was Amber and a jock chatting at the base of the stairs. Eddie deduced that this must be Amber’s boyfriend.

“The house is haunted,” Amber said, straining to speak over the music.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. We had a seance on Halloween. She’s a sorority ghost. Wants cum, apparently.”

The jock’s arousal flared higher. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah so… I thought we might… go upstairs for a bit. Keep the ghost happy.”

The jock grinned. “That’s the weirdest proposition I’ve ever heard, but don’t have to ask me twice.”

Amber grabbed his hand and pulled him up to her room. Eddie eagerly followed. Eddie did not know how she knew it, other than that a new instinct in her had been awakened, but what Amber was doing made this an offering, and offerings were so much more potent than scavengings.

The jock was fully hard by the time Amber shut her door behind them and Eddie floated invisibly through.

Amber pushed him onto the bed and he wiggled out of his pants and she kneeled between his legs and greedily took his member into her mouth.

Eddie superimposed herself over Amber, occupying the same space.

Amber she moaned into the jock’s shaft, probably attributing the rush of tingling heat to the alcohol or arousal as opposed to Eddie’s otherworldly influence.

The electric sensation of Eddie’s lips around his shaft built the jock’s arousal very quickly.

“F-fuck! You’re so good at this… I swear I usually last way longer… fuck, I’m coming!”

Amber moaned happily with his tip on the back of her tongue. Eddie, unrestricted by physics, pulled her lips to his base.

His eyes rolled back as he shook through his climax. Eddie let a little bit of it through for Amber so that she wouldn’t get too suspicious, but she greedily swallowed the rest of it herself.

The jock started to recover and picked his head up again, and he looked through Eddie for a moment.

Eddie quickly ducked into the bed.

“Fuck…” he said. “You made me come so hard I’m seeing double…”

Eddie cursed to herself. She was already having trouble staying invisible! It wasn’t her fault, there was just so much energy! And she could feel more of it, in the house below. Welling. Growing. Begging for her to take it.

Amber clambered up and sat on the jock’s face and Eddie was momentarily distracted by making sure that Amber squirted harder than she ever had before.

After that, Eddie found it difficult to shift through the ceiling and into the attic. As she passed through the floor, dust stirred around her. 

Curious, she focused for a moment and her hand became more visible. Then, reached out for a piece of paper that the mold guy had left behind. She was able to easily lift it.

A plan came together in her mind.

Eddie stood in the middle of the party, a sheet draped over her and brushing the floor. It was late enough in the night that the least inebriated partygoers were sloppy drunk, and so Eddie wasn’t facing much direct scrutiny anyway.

She floated over and found a boy who was looking especially drunk. She tried to say something like Amber had, but he wasn’t really following. Finally, she decided to just be direct. “I want to give you a blow job in the bathroom.”

That got his attention and he jumped up, eagerly following her.

She closed and locked the door behind them, marveling that she could. “I have one rule,” she said. “Lights off.” She flicked the switch, and the little bathroom went dark.

He would be blind, but she could easily see him shrug his shoulders. “Works for me.”

Eddie shrugged off the sheet as he unzipped his pants, his erection ready and waiting.

Without further ado, Eddie enveloped him in her mouth.

“Oh fuck… what are you… that feels… wow…”

Eddie could tell that she was manifesting more physically than she ever had since she’d died. While she would not quite feel like a living mouth and throat, she would certainly feel like more than just a hot tingle.

However she felt to him, it seemed to be working. Within a couple of minutes, his breath was fast and shallow. “Fuck, oh fuck, I’m gonna!”

He absolutely emptied himself down Eddie’s throat, and she greedily drank him down.

The rush of intoxicating power left Eddie feeling not sated, but even more ravenous than before. She quickly whisked the sheet back over herself and stepped out of the bathroom, leaving the boy struggling to zip his pants.

She invited a girl to the closet and then a boy upstairs, becoming more and more solid with every infusion of energy. And the stronger she became, the more she pulled out of each subsequent donor. It seemed to be pleasant for them, just leaving them sated and ready to sleep for the night.

After a second boy in the bathroom, Eddie was quivering with so much arousal that she tried to float back up to the attic, but found that in her current state, she could no longer pass through walls.

Then, she noticed Chelsea drunkenly attempting to assemble jello shots, and she got an idea. When Chelsea was looking the other way she grabbed a tray of shot glasses and ducked out through the back door of the house — actually opening the door, imagine that! — and into the autumn chill.

Eddie finally let the arousal explode out of her in wave after wave of pleasure, and when she was done, the shot glasses were full of viscous ectoplasm. The tray was fairly well covered, too, but Eddie guessed nobody would particularly notice.

She stepped back into the house, marveling again at the fact that she had to actually open and shut the door, and set the tray on the counter.

Chelsea had gotten distracted before even managing to open the jello packets, and she was drunk enough that she didn’t think anything of it when the guests cheered that the shots were ready and tucked in.

Eddie had been optimistic, but even she had not been prepared for just how quickly the party devolved into an outright orgy.

And it was incredible. Everywhere she turned there was a climax to devour, cum to guzzle. The men, normally so easily spent, kept it up and each came three, four, five times. The girls, not subject to such limitations, came many more times than that.

They muttered about ‘who spiked the punch’ and ‘good drugs’ and ‘must be dreaming’ and they came and came and came and seemed to have a grand old time.

Eddie could not help herself and she quivered under the sheet, oozing ectoplasm all over the place, hoping it would blend into the already sticky mess of spilled beer and liquor.

But despite the mess, not a single drop of cum made it to the floor. Eddie was certain of that.

It did not take long for the news of the incredibly sexy party to spread. Amber and Chelsea were now certain that the house was haunted and eagerly planned a follow-up party.

But that was still a week off and Eddie was hungry.

She had gained a new power from all that new energy. Now, she could sense dreams.

It was late morning and Eddie drifted over to where Jess lay, sleeping in and dreaming of missing class. No, that wouldn’t do at all. Eddie settled next to Jess and as the dream became more clear to Eddie, she nudged it just a little in a sexier direction.

Okay, maybe she shoved it aggressively in a much sexier direction.

Jess was now in class, sitting towards the back, and the boy that she liked from her chemistry class had his head buried between her legs under the desk. “Fuck, Jess! You taste so good!”

Jess hushed him but then she whimpered with pleasure. His tongue felt so good in her. It felt so good that she was going to come in class! In front of everyone! She didn’t care! God, she was going to come so hard!

And Jess did, both in her dream and in reality. Eddie drank it in, the flavor sweet and urgent.

Downstairs, Amber got a text from her boyfriend that piqued her arousal. Eddie drifted down and magnified that until Amber couldn’t help but rub one out in the bathroom before she left, even though she was already late for class.

That night, Eddie made the rounds and was quite delighted that Amber’s boyfriend had decided to spend the night. The next morning, Amber would find that for once, he wasn’t much interested in morning sex. It may have had something to do with the fact that Eddie had drained him six times over the night.

It wasn’t her fault that she’d taken so much — he kept having sexy dreams! She couldn’t help but join.

And so it went, the pleasure of the residents keeping the edge off of Eddie’s hunger as they waited for the next party. Even so, as the first partygoers stepped through the door, Eddie was ravenous.

This party went much like the first, except there were twice as many people. Eddie was in better control of her power, now, able to stay invisible and move around as she pleased.

And oh, how she pleased.

At first, she sampled from the lovers that scurried up the stairs or ducked into the bathroom. Then, she tempted whoever she could to a private area and then overwhelmed them with arousal until they couldn’t help but masturbate. 

She discovered something new when she went to tempt a boy who was fantasizing in the corner and he came right there and then, Eddie just barely managing to capture his cum before it went into his jeans instead of her mouth.

She could devour their energy even when they had their clothes on. She drifted around the party, making two boys climax as they kissed each other, pulling a girl through orgasm as she danced, descending upon the couch-locked stoners and sending them quivering with pleasure.

The more she consumed the more she radiated pure sexual energy into the air around her, the more aroused the partygoers were, the more there was for her to take.

Eddie became certain, as she drained the entire party dry, that she had well and truly become a succubus.

And thus began what Eddie called her third life.

The girls of the sorority usually insisted that their boyfriends stay over with them instead of the other way around, because the sex was always better in the house. They didn’t even mind that they could usually hear each other. In fact, they found it turned them on. Eddie made sure of it. 

And there were no nightmares — Eddie saw to that. The girls slept better and woke up feeling more refreshed than they ever had before. They even passed the whole winter season without anybody catching a cold.

The sorority threw a party every weekend. Eddie glutted herself on the passions of youth. She fancied herself guardian angel and eternal honorary member of the sorority. It was nice to be part of something, again.

Years passed and as each set of seniors graduated, they passed on the secret to the next:

The house was haunted by a friendly ghost named ‘Eddie’, short for Edith.

You might hear her moaning in the attic, but don’t worry, she’s just masturbating.

If you find something sticky and viscous, try a little taste. You’ll have a good time.

Eddie wants one thing and one thing only — cum. 

Girl cum, boy cum, nonbinary cum, any kind will do. So give the good ol’ girl what she wants, alright?

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Part 4: The Convention, The Black Box

Chapter 17: The Bar Trick

In an effort to keep his focused, John bought one soda, and then another, thinking that the caffeine and sugar high might get him in a gaming mood.

He wasn’t sure that it had succeeded, but he was sure as he finished off the second soda that he needed to pee. Bad. He found the restrooms after some circles, owing to the haze that still gripped his brain, and then was met with a conundrum. There were private, unisex bathrooms. John was tempted to select one of those, but also sure that if he did he’d find himself touching himself and then very soon losing his game.

Ruefully, he joined the line for the public bathroom. Primed by his previous stolen moments of sensation, and his time with Felix, and his consideration of the private bathroom, John was already having to hide his growing erection by the time he reached the front of the line.

As he passed the urinals, he considered the possibility of whipping out his stiff cock at one, stroking himself and painting the whole urinal, to the hypothetical amazement of his peers in the restroom, but in real life consent was an important consideration and John slunk into a stall.

As soon as he was out of sight his dick throbbed harder, begging him for release. His bladder, unfortunately, was sending the same message and they were totally at odds with each other.

John breathed deeply and tried to focus, to relax. He was, for the first time, actually worried. Would he be able to pee if he didn’t come? The thought alone made his dick even stiffer, and he couldn’t resist a few indulgent strokes, his shaft still slick from the lube Felix had used.

But no, the game was worth it. John focused on other games, mechanics and old reviews, theory crafting and speculation, until his erection had faded enough that he could finally pee. But, by the time he could, it felt so good to release that the sensation alone threatened to make him stiffen again.

Somehow, John was able to bleed off enough of the pressure and he returned to the hall.

As the evening came to a close, John realized that he was going to need to get creative, or else he’d be jacking off in his hotel room and ruining his game.

So, he ended up at the hotel bar and requested a booth, which he got to himself. It was a smaller one in a back corner, and he was at just the right angle that nobody would be able to see what he did under the table.

If sitting in the booth had been the entirety of his plan, then he would have surely failed, painting the floor under the table with his cum. But, that was only part of the plan. The other part was to drink and to rely on the alcohol to dull his sensation and accelerate his fatigue enough that he’d pass out as soon as he got back to his room.

He started by letting his mind wander freely and his erection fight against the inside of his jeans, throbbing and growing. He ordered his drink and then released himself, and it felt so good to just not be restricted anymore that he worried he’d made a mistake. But his first drink came, an old fashioned, and he sipped it in one hand as he stroked himself in the other.

As his urgency quickly grew, he downed the rest of his drink and ordered another. He needed to get past the initial buzz where the lowered inhibitions and the not-yet-dulled sensations could cause him to lose his game.

He gulped his second drink even faster than the first and ordered a couple of shots for good measure, stroking himself surreptitiously all the while.

He realized as he sipped his third drink (not counting the shots) that he had perhaps over-corrected. Very quickly, he was rendered properly drunk.

He abandoned his care for the rules, the alcohol having totally melted his inhibitions, and he masturbated in earnest under the booth table. Fortunately, tortuously, he seemed to be too far gone to cum, even as he worked himself into a sweaty, dripping mess.

Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to get somewhere that he could really go at it. He paid and left a generous tip, just in case the waiter had noticed anything, and then carefully pressed his erection back into his jeans. John headed totteringly to the restroom and, lacking his previous willpower, he went into one of the private rooms.

Even while John was still locking the door, he was freeing his throbbing dick with the other, and he leaned back against the door and heaved a sigh of relief, which very soon became a panting of urgency. Finally alone, he could stroke himself with gusto, and allow himself the expressions, the moans and gasps and groans and squeaks, that he’d been holding in all day.

Though, his sounds soon became grunts of frustration, for he had slicked the slope of his climax with enough alcohol that he could now gain no traction on the climb. Sober John’s plan had been effective, though Drunk John was not happy about it. The frustration was enough to calm him down so that he could relieve his bladder, at least, though once again the sensation proved so pleasant that he was almost thwarted from that relief too.

John focused very hard to put himself back together and then to totter back up to his room without embarrassing himself. John made it to his room and threw his clothes over a chair and then himself over the bed, appreciating the cool, smooth sheets. He’d have to google what hotel sheets were made of and get some. He was starting to appreciate that the sensual details mattered and he was overdue to graduate from just buying whatever Target had on sale.

As he thought of what he might do in those new sheets, John’s erection returned, and he passed a few more minutes in groaning, panting, stroking frustration before the sedative effects of the alcohol and his genuine exhaustion after the long day overtook him and he fell asleep.

Part 6: Partners, The Dragon's Tower

Chapter 30: As Promised

Pasco and Ada did everything as they’d promised. The king and the queen drafted up a mockingly complex marital contract, a satire of the sort of thing that Ada’s own parents would have unironically foisted upon her, and it was perfect.

Ada requested a hand-tying ceremony, like was customary in her kingdom, but she requested a modification. Instead of being firmly tied, the rope was tied in a bow, with long ends that Ada and Pasco could each hold in their other hands. Either of them could tug their end of the bow and unravel of it, and neither of them did.

Even when Pasco started dragging Ada around the subsequent wedding feast by their bound hands, teasing her. “Look at this! And this! And this!”

And especially when Ada realized she’d had too much to drink and really needed to pee.

“C’mon,” she hissed at Pasco. “I have to go!” As he’d explained and as she’d seen for herself, pirates did not prefer nearly so much privacy for their evacuations. Already she’d seen plenty of men and women just step over to a patch of grass and relieve themselves, sometimes not even bothering to stop whatever story they were telling. And the women did it standing! Ada was impressed.

However, any time she tried to just do it, her subconscious was not on board and her muscles clenched tightly, even as her bladder throbbed with fullness.

Please,” she said.

“I don’t want to leave,” Pasco said, matter-of-factly, staying firmly seated on his log by the fire. Ada pulled and tugged and dragged at him, to no avail. She even tried to tickle him, but through his incredible self control, he didn’t even seem to feel it.

She humphed and sat next to him, crossing her legs and pressing them together. That felt good. She shamelessly rocked herself against the log that she was sitting at, knowing that the more aroused she was, the less likely she was to pee herself.

Though, her logic may have been fairly flawed. She’d had more than a couple glasses of wine. She tugged at his hand again, and he remained unmovable. Though, she didn’t undo the rope.

“C’moooonnn,” she whined. “I gotta goooo…” Her bladder was throbbing now in time with her arousal, begging for release.

Pasco grinned wickedly at her. “If you want to pee so badly, then just pee.”

His tone of command sent a wave of relaxation through her. Heat blossomed from her sex, spreading down her legs, in a feeling of blissful relief. “I think I… I think I am.”

She was. It lasted so much longer than she expected. It was pressure and release all at once, every nerve around her sex activated and humming with pleasure.

Ada gasped and sighed. She rubbed herself against the log as she finally, totally relaxed.

In a drunk, blissy haze she looked to Pasco, wondering if he’d chastize her. He didn’t. Instead, he tugged her by the arm to her feet. “Yeah, we’re definitely living by the waterfall,” he said, voice hungry with arousal as they hurried up the path to the glade to fuck the night away by the warm and cleansing water.

Part 4: The Trouble with Sirens, The Dragon's Tower

Chapter 23: A Gift

Pasco scooped Ada up and nodded to Missa and Forte. Forte belayed them so that Pasco could rappel down, Ada gripped close. 

She was so small, like this. 

They landed by the moored boat and Missa removed the anchor above and started to climb down. Pasco settled Ada in the boat, and as he stood to wait for Missa, he noticed a tangle of pink seaweed-like hair peek over the edge of the rock. 

He drew his sword, but the siren merely scooted herself slightly further up the rock so that she could plop sleepily next to them. She waved a hand dismissively at his sword.

“Two thingsssss,” the pink siren said, waving two fingers in front of her as a drunkard might.

“One… the dragon is welcome back… anytime.” The pink siren giggled happily.

It really was like she was drunk. Is this how sirens got when they finally fucked themselves out?

“TuuuuWOO!” the siren waved her hand around. “I have… a thank you gift… for sharing your dragon friend.”

Pasco quirked an eyebrow and glanced at Forte. The other pirate shrugged.

The siren pulled up her other arm with some labor and put something on the rock in front of her. It was something small, on a chain, and it was especially slimy.

Pasco nudged it with the tip of his sword. “Was this in your…”

“It’sssss important! For the magic. Take it.” She pushed it towards his feet.

“Can I wash it first?”

“Yes yes.” The siren waved her hand dismissively at him. “Now, asssssk what it does.”

“What does it do?”

“It holdsss one of my songs. The dragon… likes our songs. Nobody… likes our songs anymore. I noticed…” the pink siren lolled to look up at Pasco, and seemed remarkably lucid in that moment, “that you also liked… how she likes our songs.”

Pasco blushed, which wasn’t like him. Which also meant that the siren was right.

“If you wear it… and open it… it’ll play a little song. She won’t be able to come… until you come…”

Oh.” He quickly picked up the locket, no longer caring about where it had recently been. This was a precious object to be protected, regardless of its state of cleanliness. “That’s actually… that’s actually really amazing. Does it have some sort of limit? Like a number of charges?”

“I’m not sure how many,” the siren said, “I don’t usually give giftssss. But, when it runs out… You’ll jussssst have to come back and visit, and I can recharge it for you.” The siren rested her cheek on her hand and grinned up at him.

He narrowed his eyes at her and considered. “She’ll have to want to,” he said. “She just said she hates sirens.”

“She’ll want to, eventually. But don’t worry. I wasn’t too ssssssstingy. Well, I wanted to be. But it chargessss by coming and she just kept… making me and… making me and…” The siren’s eyes started to glaze over and she sunk back off the rock like a drunk pushing too far back in their chair. She yelped and pulled herself up, just as Missa reached the bottom of the rock.

She didn’t say anything else, but just looked up at them, dreamily. Probably rubbing herself underneath the water.

“You know,” Pasco said, “People would still be affected by your songs if you didn’t keep fucking pirates so much that all pirates have siren’s blood.”

The siren pouted at that. “It’s not my fault,” she said. “We just… can’t… stop…

She was definitely rubbing herself under the water.

“Okay, time to go,” Pasco said.

Missa and Forte were already in the boat. Pasco hopped in and shoved off and Forte started rowing. Pasco adjusted Ada, who was now sound asleep, to nestle in his lap. 

He carefully dipped the locket in the saltwater to clean it, then took a closer look. It seemed to be made of a closed clamshell. The surface was carved with swirling runes. He gently pulled it open, and the runes started to glow slightly. A soft melody whispered out. Ada stirred, and he quickly closed it. 

They’d figure out later exactly how it worked. He’d normally have been exceedingly suspicious of a siren, but he was quite sure that that one was too dazed to lie.

Would Ada ever want to go back? He selfishly hoped she would. But for now, he was happy to see her safe. 

Pasco could tell that Ada was truly exhausted by that she chose to continue to sleep below-deck even while the upper deck became a full-on orgy. They’d be even later in getting to the pirate capital, but that was better than losing the ship because they were trying to sail while incapacitated by arousal.

The pirates with lesser siren’s blood like Sendia couldn’t help but fuck themselves to exhaustion like Ada had, but the others would be sated enough after a good couple of rounds.

It was only right for Pasco to join in — after all, he couldn’t ask his crew to do anything he wasn’t willing to do himself, orgies included. And even though Ada was below deck, he still found himself to be particularly motivated. For two reasons. 

One, the scent of Ada still lingered in the air, having poured out of the cove and over the surface of the ocean. Two, the locket around his neck, seashell light and cool on his skin. Even closed, it filled his mind with thoughts of Ada begging for release, and that was something he could not wait to see again.