Episode 5: Bad Manors

“Home sweet home!”

Erin Parrish pulled up in front of her new house, well old house, very old house. Built in the early 1800’s over an existing cabin’s foundation it was in pretty darn good shape considering. Whomever the true architects were they knew how to build something that survived the test of time. Few updates were applied outside of plumbing, electrical, and windows, that was about it. Geneiveve Souillon must have been one rich bitch to have built such a home. If it weren’t haunted chances are Erin would never have had a chance at ownership. In her mind the ballsy blond loved a challenge. The longer she inhabited the home the more she loved it. All it took was setting ground rules. Obedient love slaves certainly made things that much easier, especially ones that respected her enough to protect her from the original Mistress. Mistress Erin now, damn straight!

Unloading her SUV, she carried her groceries in top priority with lunchmeat and milk needing refrigerated. Door opening for her she felt really appreciative. “Why thank you my good man.” Entering she looks around to find her home spotless in the sense of all her boxes and bed. “You guys did take my bed upstairs. I really didn’t expect to come home and actually see it done. Good boys! I’ll have to figure out a way to thank you properly.” She then notices her 65’ TV turned backwards on a TV stand, facing the wall. “Not bad Boys, one thing ... turn this around facing into the room please.” Done! Right before her eyes. Mind blown she giggled, “Bless your hearts.”

Moving into the kitchen she sits her groceries on the dinette table left behind by the DeVore family. It was nice of them to leave so many furnishings, mainly because they feared setting foot back in the place. While some furnishings were original not all were. sofa yes, loveseat yes, grandfather clock old, you name it, all like brand new. Get down to it Erin had no need for much more. She felt lucky. Something never to be taken for granted.

Perishables, wine, and beer in the fridge she found spots for a few can goods, spaghetti noodles, etc. Her skillet on top of the oven, silverware in a drawer. Second trip to her Land Rover she grabbed the drugstore bag full of condoms, lube, and rubber gloves. Taking them to her front door she held the bag out for the first helping hand to claim it, “Take this bag to the Mistress bedroom. No one opens anything until I’m there. Understood?” Her answer came in the form of her front door swaying back and forth gently. “You guys are really thinking about how to communicate with me better ... I love it. Be right back I have more things to grab.” So did they, a ghostly hand grabbed her ass making her squeal and laugh over it. “You guys are insatiable, I swear.”

Unloading her weed killer and weed eater on to the porch she puts her hands on her hips, “I need to go check out the tool shed and see if I need to make room for the mower when I’m done mowing. No need until I can see the shed for the jungle. Speaking of, I need to get started mowing before it gets any later. It’s hot as hell but it’s not like I’ll be exerting myself on a riding mower. I can weed eat after it cools down some.”

Checking the oil on the mower, and the gas, both are topped off. Realizing she didn’t have any bag to gather the blades of grass she made a note of the mower brand on her cellphone for future reference. Little by little she thought, adapting as it comes was her motto. Sunglasses back on she fired up her tractor and set out mowing. With her yard massive it took nearly two hours just to mow the front of the house alone, but it was looking sharper. Taking a break to drink a beer and cool off she stepped from her kitchen and on to the back porch. Eying the tool shed she was tempted to make that journey through the tall grass but didn’t want her gorgeous legs eaten alive by bugs. Thinking about that inevitability she realized something. “Huh! I haven’t noticed any flies or mosquitos since I’ve been here. For that matter no birds, or squirrels, or rabbits. Are they scared of the place?” It was nice not dealing with swatting mosquitos. Her biggest fear was that she herself might be the gnat.

Shivering slightly at that unnerving possibility she found strong arms curling around her waist and holding her, a warm sensation on her shoulder presumed to be a kiss. Smiling at her paramour she spoke up. “Why are there no insects, or animals around the home? With a forest on three sides, I would think it would be teeming with ... life.” Goosebumps! No way of her intangible lover answering she simply pondered it then finally vocalized her thoughts.

“Let’s see here, squeeze my left breast for yes, right breast for no.” She made certain that her coddler understood left from right being behind her by lifting her tits in order. “Left yes! Right no! Understand?” Arms releasing her waist lift up the front of her tank top and slip beneath, palming both breasts but just holding them. “Mmm!” Left breast squeezed showed her an affirmation of yes.

“You like this game, don’t you?” She giggled. Left breast found finger indentations witnessed as she looked down at herself, she marveled at the intriguing impact of such a thing even becoming reality. “Is something keeping the animals and insects away from Souillon Manor?” Left breast squeezed. “Curse?” Again, her left. “Geneiveve’s doing?” Right breast surprised her.

“So, someone else cursed the area?” Left breast found a nipple pinched exciting her. “Hey now! You can do that at bedtime. I need answers right now.” A warmth inside her ear made her shiver, “No tongues in my ears. Maybe you’re my mosquito.” She giggled. “Sorry! I wasn’t putting you down Baby. Can you boys leave the house and go outside? I mean you step out on the porch here with me but can you, step into the grass?” Both breasts squeezed at once she winces. “Indecisive? Uncertain?” Left breast yes. She knew of the barrier when Brimley Stone informed her of it. It dawned on her suddenly that her father’s spirit might be watching her being pawed up. He would have to get used to it.

“I don’t want to hurt any of you. I’m going to step off the porch, if you wish to test the yard with me, I would love the company. If you fear doing so, I understand. I just need to know everything about you boys and Geneiveve. Even Earl at some point.” Turning around to face her ghostly groper she steps down the short staircase one foot at a time, his grip over her fading away, tank laying smoothly against her tits again. Moving four feet into the grass she holds her hands out as if welcoming her roommate. “If you take my hands, I’ll know you can. If not, then we know it’s not possible.” Freezing in her thoughts she shook her head, “Why am I guessing this? You guys stepped out of the house to help Jonah and I move the furnishings. Man, I’m stupid for not recalling that. Well, I guess I did tell Brimley that much info.” No hands claimed hers. “Unless? You can’t step into the backyard.”

Facing the forest Erin winces in thought, “I wonder ... maybe the boys are not allowed out back because of ... the slave cemetery. It makes sense Geneiveve might not have wanted her boys to fraternize with the help.” She might be on to something.

“Okay, that’s fine I’ll come back to you.” Returning to the porch she finds arms hugging her with genuine sincerity, her adoring fan even rubbing her back lightly. “Did you try and step into the yard?” Arms slipping to her front she feels the outside of her tank top squeeze her tits rather than go underneath the fabric. Uncertain of yes or no she swiftly turns her back to him and lets him squeeze her left tit. “I hope I didn’t confuse you there. So, yes you tried coming out to meet me in the yard?” She hadn’t noticed the planks of the stairsteps wiggle as if weight upon them, her own oversight, however. Another left tit squeeze she fidgeted. “Okay! So, you were allowed into the front yard but not the backyard. I think I know why. Did ... any of you boys know ... Mildred?” A left squeeze confirming yes. “Was she nice?” Yes again.

“What happened to Mildred? Did ... Geneiveve hurt her?” Yes, once more. “Kill her?” Her left tit was getting a workout. “That poor girl. Was she your age?” Right tit finally got attention. “Younger?” Left again. “Earl’s age?” Right tit love.

“Do any of you ... visit Earl?” Right breast jostled. “Not once?” She asked that question mainly because she wanted her right breast to catch up with her left. “Did he die before you boys?” Right tit although nice troubled her, “After you were all poisoned?” Left!

“I would like to know why she killed all of you.” Nothing! “So how do you know Earl is up in the attic if none of you have visited him? Wait! That’s not a yes or no question. Ugh! I’m not sure how to rephrase. Let’s stop for now I have to mow back here before it gets dark. Thank you for playing with me.”

She guzzles her beer can until empty then crumples it in her grip. “I don’t have a trash can.” Cellphone shopping list added. “For that matter ... does a garbage man even drive out here? Guess I should buy a burning barrel for what I can burn. Save aluminum and take it to recycling. Countertop you go my crinkly friend.” She sat her can on the kitchen counter for now and grabbed another cold one from the fridge. Off to rendezvous with her mower Barberah.

Refilling the gastank she trimmed the side yard and made her way into the back. Looking at her home’s windows she saw drapes fluttering at her as if waving hello. She blew kisses back at the house almost every pass until she had the grass cut down, save for piles of far too long leftovers. “Rake added to the shopping list. Shovel I figure too.” One more side of the house and she was done. At least she had a clear path to that tool shed now. Another twenty minutes Erin polished off her mowing project and drove Barberah up to the tool shed. Shutting it off temporarily she climbed from the tractor and finished her beer, resting the can on the hood of Barberah for the time being.

Walking to the shed doors she opened the double entryways wide and found it dank, musty, and fairly empty, old wooden shelves with canning supplies like glass jars and lids, a can of red paint which made Erin wince, “There is nothing on this property inside or out that’s painted red. Well, I guess I haven’t been in the basement or attic yet.” Shaking the dried-up paint, she knew it was almost empty. Shrugging she puts it back on the shelf and looks around further. Old rope strung up had tints of red on it that she just knew was not paint.

“Man, I sure hope this rope didn’t string up any slaves, that would be so sad.” Saying a prayer over the rope seemed like the respectful thing to do. As she did so her necklace pinched her skin lightly leading Erin to lift it from her cleavage without really thinking about it, merely reflex. It tended to pinch her now and again, so she wasn’t really concerned. Gemma was just cranky she always told herself, her lucky charm stunning upon her neckline gave it a pass.

“Hedge clippers rusty as all get out. Still useful if I clean it up some. Sickles just as cruddy looking, handles are even worn off.” Her exploration coming to an end she decided to pull her tractor inside and leave her beer can in the shed with it for now. Closing the doors committing Barberah to darkness Erin didn’t hear her beer can crush as if a grip over it. Strangely the can ended up in a wooden bucket along the back wall. Whomever did that was tidying up. Nice of them! Of course, that meant new neighbors.

With the sun sinking low Erin decided to call off weed eating and just left the device boxed up by the front door. A walk back to the shed with her gas can and oil she paid no attention to the missing beer can. Again, closing up she waved her hands over her face and sighed, “Time to plug in those fans and get cleaned up. I think I’ll try out the shower this time. Man, I’m glad the DeVore’s updated the Master bath.”

Hauling her purchased fans inside the house from her SUV she sat on her sofa and began building the extension fans, adjusting one to face the sofa about chest level. Plugging it in the circulating air flow felt wonderful. Leaving it on she took the second fan upstairs to the Mistress room and erected it, getting it set for a more comfortable sleep in a few hours. Not quite ready to relax yet, she headed back downstairs and hooked up her stereo and TV/ Blu-ray player. With no reception she frowned and looked around, “Shit! I had the boys haul up my music and DVD’s. Another trip back upstairs she pauses to look into the bedroom across the hall from Mistress room. Surprise! Surprise!

“Whoa! You boys even erected my bed frame and put the bed on it. That’s impressive! Whenever I think of ghosts, I think of subtle movements not lifting appliances and beds. I am just blown away by you boys being so ... strong. I love it.”

Applauding them with clapping hands she recalls her box of rubber gloves and brightens up, “Oh! I have something for my good boys. Everyone follow me, everyone that’s in attendance that is.” She goes into her Mistress room and gets another shocker. Her bed was stripped down and the king size hotel sheets were put on, blankets not king laying spread out neatly. Her heart fluttered at their thoughtfulness. Sighing she digs into her shopping bags tossing the condom boxes on the bed first. As she dug for the gloves the condom boxes were plucked up and were in the process of being opened. “HEY! Did I say you could open those yet? Wait until Christmas morning! Set them down.” On to the mattress they went. “Thank you!”

Opening the gloves, she pulled out 6 and lay them on her bedding. Using one as education she shows the group what she expected of them. “Each of you get a pair of gloves. Put them on so I know you’re nearby.” The sets were quickly applied, all hands large and a few of the gloves not fitting properly. “For those that don’t fit, I’ll buy larger the next time I go to town. For now, just let someone else use them that they do fit.”