The Haunting of Amanda Cain
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Fa/ft, Mult, NonConsensual, Rape, Mind Control, BiSexual, Horror, Paranormal, Spanking, Rough, Light Bond, Humiliation, Group Sex, First, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Masturbation, Squirting, Cream Pie, Voyeurism, Violent,
Desc: Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - The divorced Amanda and her 17 year old daughter Claire move into an old deserted house by the coast. She hears rumors that the house is haunted but dismisses them as speculation. After a strange visit to the attic, she has an unusual first night inside the house and goes to the police station to report being assaulted. The friendly policewoman Roxanne decides she will spend the night in the old house with Amanda and Claire to see if there really are ghosts present.
Amanda climbed the creaking, narrow staircase to the dusty old attic and paused at the top of the stairs in front of the double locked attic door. She had the key to the regular door lock but no key for the padlock that was affixed to the rusty old hasp nailed in a sloppy and unprofessional way to the sturdy frame.
It was a disappointment because she had been visualizing the hidden treasures the attic might hold in this house that she had inherited from a spinster aunt she had never physically ever been in contact with in her entire 35 years of existence. She shouted down the stairs to her 17 year old daughter Claire,
"Bring me the hammer from the kitchen counter, honey. We need to make some adjustments to this door if we want to get into the attic."
The plaintive voice of a totally disinterested teenager wafted up from the main floor,
"Mom, I'm on the phone. Can't it wait?"
An exasperated Amanda sat down on her pretty rump on the worn stairs and slowly counted to 25. She had learned this trick in anger management classes when her daughter turned 13. Then, she shouted once again down the stairs.
"Claire, sweetie, mama has been thinking about cutting back on expenses and I think your cell phone is an unneeded luxury that we simply cannot afford. Are you sure you don't have time to fetch me the hammer?"
The sounds of her daughter scampering up the stairs with the hammer brought a smile to Amanda's face. Her pretty daughter was not even breathing hard and her pert upturned breasts were swinging freely inside her customary "inside the house" sports bra. The distressing thought flashed across her mind that it was unfair for her teenaged daughter to have bigger boobs than her. She hoped it was a girlfriend on the phone and not one of those Lotharios from the bowling alley downtown. Claire was wearing her favorite short shorts with the ragged edge on the bottom. The effect of her pretty ass inside the tight shorts was accentuated every time when she bent over at the point of release of the bowling ball on the highly polished alleys. Every male eye in the establishment was on her bottom whenever she went up to the line. Her firm backside never jiggled, it just flowed like melting snow making its way down from the mountains in spring.
Claire looked on with studied lack of interest as her mother smacked the lock with an energetic swing. When Amanda was unsuccessful, she pushed her out of the way, saying,
"Give me the hammer, mom, you got to get it from the side at just the right angle."
The young teenager positioned the lock the way she wanted it and in one swipe broke not only the lock but managed to rip out the entire hasp at the same time.
Amanda wanted to ask her daughter where she had acquired the expertise in the breaking of locks but remained silent, reluctant to find out the answer.
They made their way into the attic.
It was filled with furniture and stacked boxes. Amanda licked her lips in anticipation. It was a veritable treasure chest of loot for flea markets, garage sales, or even an antique shop. She had a sudden thought of opening an antique store in the shed near the front entrance to the grounds drawing in the tourists who flocked to the coast in the summer season.
Claire was looking at an old framed photo dating back many decades of two men, one old and the other young, flanking a pretty young thing dressed all in black with the saddest eyes Amanda had ever seen.
"Who do you think they are, mom?"
Amanda felt a draft of chilled air pass over her head and she shuddered before answering,
"I think they are the original owners, dear. My aunt Miranda bought this house at a tax sale because they disappeared without a trace many years ago. She moved in here and never left until the day she died."
"I think the young guy looks a little cute, don't you?"
Amanda scoffed at the question and told her daughter,
"You better make certain all your homework is done before you go to bed tonight, honey. Don't forget you graduate in less than two months."
Claire made a face like somebody had just farted and walked back down to her bedroom with an exaggerated swing to her hips that made her look like one of the girls at the "pole dance" place on the other side of town.
Amanda bent over to pick up a photo album from the floor and felt her bottom being groped by some invisible force. She gasped and looked around for someone playing a trick but she was alone in the attic. Her heart was beating fast and she had a sudden urge to get out of the attic as quickly as possible. When she closed the door and stumbled down the stairs, she thought she could hear evil laughter on the other side of the door.
She didn't mention anything about the incident to her daughter because she didn't want to upset her the very first night they were sleeping in the old house.
She sat in the parlor reading a nice Historical Romance story about a girl taken prisoner by pirates and found she was falling asleep with the book still in her hands. That was enough to make up her mind to head for bed and get a good night's sleep.
Settling down in a strange bedroom made Amanda a bit on edge and she checked all the corners and even in the dark empty closet just to certain nothing or nobody was hiding in the dark recesses. It was so silly that she laughed at her own foolishness. She had checked on her daughter Claire and confirmed the pretty teenager was sleeping soundly wearing only her smiley face panties and the comfortable sports bra that she seemed to favor best of all.
Some nights Amanda wore her pajamas to bed and other times she wore only her panties. She really had no need of a bra because her breasts were on the smallish side. However, she was quite proud of her prominent nipples with crowning erect nubbins that were the trigger to her erotic passionate nature. Usually, men discovered that fact very early on with her and she made sure that they paid ample attention to her upper body before hitting pay dirt down below. When she did not like a man who was getting up close and personal with her, she told the poor soul that she was far too sensitive there and to avoid touching her breasts at all. It was a way that she could maintain complete control over the automatic responses of her sensual flesh. Occasionally, she would strip down nude and sleep in the raw because she liked the sense of complete freedom. For some reason, she decided on the latter mode of sleeping and chose to sleep totally naked.
She draped her panties on the bottom post of the bed thinking they were clean enough to wear in the morning before she took her shower. She slid her lean body under the sheets and twisted and turned until she found that sweet spot for restful sleep. Amanda flicked off the dresser lamp and noticed the room was a bit colder than she liked but it was still within her comfort zone. She dropped off into a deep sleep without delay.
Amanda fell into a troubled erotic dream which was not entirely unwelcome because she had not been sexually active for quite a while. What really surprised her was that the figures, or rather the shapes, in her dream were not men or women who she knew and had physical desire for, but complete strangers with a rough and scary demeanor. The older man stood over her helpless body laughing at her nakedness. He whispered to the younger man and snorted in derision. The younger man took his clue and slithered up to her arms taking her wrists in his strong hands holding her immobile with her arms spread eagled in submissive position. She wanted desperately to shout out to warn her daughter that there were intruders in the house but the only visible sign on her sleeping body was the quickened pace of her breathing. In her dream, the other man placed his dirty hand over her mouth but she knew there was no need because no sound could escape her lips.
As if fully aware of her nipple fetish, the older man sucked her nipples into his drooling mouth and licked her into helpless and uncontrollable orgasm. Her lower body was humping in mock copulation anticipating the arrival of a stiff cock in her vagina. The dream kept increasing in intensity forcing Amanda to squirm and shift in kinky desire on the clean white sheets. Her battered nipples were throbbing with frenzied need as her sexual craving increased with each passing moment.
The younger man whispered with evil satisfaction to the older man at her feet.
"She's primed and ready, da, give it to the bitch good!"
The older man had both of her ankles now firmly in his grasp. She could feel the callouses roughly spreading her wide open. Amanda tried her best to wiggle her legs free but all she succeeded in accomplishing was to make her slit more excited and waiting for ultimate penetration. She was disgusted with her reaction and knew the shame of her own carnal desire.
The rough hands were moving inexorably up the inside of her calves and inner thighs causing her to pant in frantic depraved need for insertion. Her form was shuddering in conflicted terror and sexual delight. The very instant the older man's fingers touched her dripping cunt she silently screamed but no ears were listening except her own.
Amanda was still shaking the next morning when she took her shower. She was in a semi-state of shock and neglected to remove her panties from the post on the bed. They were still hanging there in mute testimony of her inability to face her own fears.
After Claire was safely off to school, Amanda went to the car and drove down to the small town going straight to the tiny police station.
There were only two persons in the small office. They were both females. The older female was handling the phone and talking to another officer on patrol answering calls about traffic accidents and reports of stray dogs doing damage. The other person was an attractive woman about Amanda's own age who was dressed in a tight uniform of a tailored shirt and pants that showed off the heart-shaped firmly packed ass that was framed by a rather large gun and a pair of handcuffs. Amanda was pretty cock oriented in her sexual preference but admittedly, this woman made her juices seep into her panties as she imagined her making her "take it" in a variety of kinky ways.
"Captain Shafer at your service, ma'am. What can we do you for?"
Amanda sat down in the chair at the side of Captain Shafer's desk. She noticed the photo on the desk showed the Captain and another younger girl standing together in close proximity. It looked like the Captain was most certainly one who preferred the company of females over males. That didn't bother Amanda in the least since she had spent most of her college days in the arms of various females rather than run the risk of getting pregnant before she could graduate.
"I want to report an assault, officer!"
The attractive policewoman turned on a tape recorder and stated in a clear voice,
"It is 0930 hours on 1 May of 2013. Present are Captain Roxanne Shafer and (give me your full name, ma'am) "Amanda Cain". This report will be a 10-22 possible assault and will be forwarded to the medical section labeled Confidential."
Amanda, with only a prompting nod from the policewoman who had scooted her chair closer to Amanda's chair, started to relate the circumstances of what had happened to her in the bedroom the night before. The policewoman's knees were touching her own and Amanda found that strangely reassuring. She started to cry at the very end remembering her shameful enjoyment at receiving a flood of liquid into her thirsty vagina and the sense of loss when the offending shaft was removed from her womb.
"Can you describe these fellas, ma'am?"
Amanda looked hopelessly at Roxanne and realized how ridiculous she really sounded. She bent forward and cupped the pretty officer's ear whispering,
"I'm afraid they might be ghosts and possibly the former owners of my new home."
Roxanne looked at Amanda for moment. She turned off the recorder.
"Listen, Amanda, I think we need to investigate this a little bit before sending in an official report. How about I come over tonight and spend the night with you and your daughter to see if we can scare up any more details for the investigation?"
Amanda thought about the addition of an armed guard into the house at night and was so relieved she wanted to reach out and kiss Roxanne right then and there but she knew instinctively that it would not be appropriate in front of a witness.
"We will be waiting for you, officer, I will tell Claire as soon as she gets home from school."
(Part 2 will take up the events of the second night in the Haunted House)