Poetic Porn for Poltergeists [MF, Ghost, Con, D/s, Rhyming, 18+]

Our tale begins one dark and stormy night.

Cliché? Perhaps, but bear with me, alright?

Atop a hill, a manor braves the storm.

Inside, it hides a single female form.

On silent feet, she pads through dusty halls,

Watched by ancestors upon the walls.

Scant’ly clad in nighty, bra and thong

What lies beneath? We’ll get to that anon.

Her curiosity leads to a room,

A parlor, dark, lit only by the moon.

This secret place, she’s never been allowed,

Contains a massive shape beneath a shroud.

Stored away in haste, a mirror, cursed,

Lost to many who have dared to search.

With a flourish, she reveals the glass,

And prays her actions haven’t been too rash.

Tonight, it’s possible she’ll met her doom,

Then right on queue, we hear the thunder boom!

With fear, she dares to glance at her own face,

But quickly finds there’s nothing out of place.

For all those haunted tales in family lore,

Perhaps this ancient thing is just a bore.

She strikes a pose, then primps, and checks her ass.

With perky tits, her figure’s hourglass.

No sable curls all silvered o’er with white,

This chick’s a ten, she’s lookin’ fine tonight.

Seemingly alone, she’s unaware,

But looks like that, and someone’s bound to stare.

Beyond her line of sight a spirit lurks,

He leans against the wall, arms crossed, and smirks.

A voice so deep and warm cuts through the gloom,

One that’s mastered making women swoon.

“So nice to have a visitor drop by,

Especially one that’s easy on the eyes.”

He hopes his words do not cause her alarm,

In fact, his aim is really more to charm.

“Who’s there?” She calls, her head whipping around,

But cannot see the man who’s mirror bound.

“I did not mean to startle you, my dear.

I promise you there’s naught here to be feared.”

The sound of footsteps seem to cross the floor,

But she sees darkness there, and nothing more.

She holds her breath to swallow down a scream,

And wills her mind to wake up from this dream.

But in the hearth, a fire lights itself,

And then the clock begins its strikes to twelve.

“A large amount of thanks is owed to you,”

for I’ve been rather lonesome hitherto.”

A movement in the glass catches her eye,

She turns to face it, daring to reply.

A figure of a man is standing near,

He’s missing from the room, but not the mirror.

She wraps a hand around the golden frame,

Afraid she may have simply gone insane.

“Are you a ghost?” She asks the mystic man.

“Regretfully, ’been dead for quite a span.”

With graceful steps, the phantom closes in,

His face is right behind her with a grin.

“Your beauty summoned me behind the veil,

I think we’re starring in a fairy tale.”

Featherlight hands travel down her frame.

He hopes to find this woman feels the same.

She bites her lip and thinks, “he’s kinda hot.”

His compliments are sullying her thoughts.

Upon her skin, his ghostly hands are cold,

And secretly, she longs to be controlled.

“After his death, a man still has his needs,

A thirst for flesh is always one he feeds.”

And so the phantom’s hands begin to stray,

With languid pace, indulging in foreplay.

The nipples on her breasts stiffen to peaks.

His breath is cool against her blushing cheeks.

“Your gorgeous frame is driving me insane,

I bet you even like a little pain.”

He cups her breasts, delivering a squeeze,

Then slides her flimsy nighty off with ease.

Her bra is next, discarded on the floor

And steady heat starts building in her core.

“One might say I like it kind of rough,

The things I crave, I never get enough.”

Her declaration’s music to his ears,

It breaks his lips into a feral sneer.

With brutal strength, he grabs her by the wrists,

Leans her back, and claims a savage kiss.

“I vow before this dreary night is done,

You’ll swear that you have never had such fun.”

The fabric of her thong, he shifts aside,

Her skin already slick between her thighs.

He pumps his fingers deep into her slit,

Then circles them around her swollen clit.

With stifled cries, her body bucks and squirms,

The sounds make his erection start to firm.

“Cum for me.” He whispers in her ear.

Her shaking body signals it is near.

Finally, she breaks and finds release,

Her panting breaths and speedy pulse decrease.

“Now kneel for me, I’ll take what I deserve.

Remember, it’s your Master who you serve.”

She sits and reaches blindly with her hands,

The mirror solely showing where he stands.

Quite hurriedly unbuckling his belt,

He’s pleased to see the speed at which she knelt.

“Good girl,” he breathes, “You’re willing to behave,

I knew at once you’d make the perfect slave.”

With haste, he slides his cock between her lips,

Grunts and moans all while he rocks his hips.

Relentlessly, he thrusts into her throat,

She sputters, gags, and dribbles while she chokes.

“Open your mouth, and let me see your tongue.”

He orders, then he paints her face with cum.

With gentle hands, he cleans the mess and sweat,

Then strokes himself, and says, “We’re not done yet.”

She lowers to the ground on hands and knees,

Excitedly, her pussy throbs with need.

He drops his pants, and lines up close behind,

Stroking her skin, he whispers, “You are mine.”

With gritted teeth, he plunges through her folds,

And pumps her hard without shifting his hold.

She moans and screams, but begs the ghost for more.

He slaps her ass, and taunts, “You like that, whore?”

She cries, and says she’s desperate for his seed.

Yanking her hair, he bellows, “Look at me.”

She lifts her chin to see him in the glass.

Surrendering to lust, he fucks her fast.

Unraveling, he groans and fills her hole,

Her orgasm and whimpers feed his soul.

Buried inside this perfect woman’s swell,

For once, he doesn’t mind the mirror’s spell.

“Please tell me I’m your dirty little slut.”

“You are, and I will never get enough.”

Like rabbits, they fuck long into the night,

Until dawn’s rising sun brings forth the light.

Before he leaves he says, “I’ll be back soon,

But in the meantime, move this to your room.

Place the mirror right beside your bed,

Tomorrow, I will bring along a friend.”

This concludes my spooky smutty story,

About how sexy specters still get horny.

And now, I am afraid I’ll take my leave.

Tread carefully on this All Hallows’ Eve!

Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/xughp7/poetic_porn_for_poltergeists_mf_ghost_con_ds