Phantom

"I hope you'll be happy with us, Jane," the housekeeper said. "Before I let you have a room, I really should ask you if you're afraid of ghosts."

"Ghosts, ma'am?" asked Jane, puzzled. The staid looking housekeeper didn't look the sort of woman who'd even believe in, let alone be afraid, of ghosts.

"Yes, Jane," said Mrs. Simmons. "We currently have two beds available in the maid's quarters. One is in a room that you would have to share with Sally and Agnes, but the other is a small single bedroom. The trouble with the single room, of cause, is the ghost."

"The ghost, ma'am?" asked Jane, suspicion plain in her voice.

"Yes, Jane. The reason the room is empty is because the other maids don't like the way the ghost insists on having everything just so. They say if you move the bed, the ghost moves it back. If you leave things on the dresser, the ghost puts them in a drawer. They don't like it and won't stay in that room. So, do ghosts worry you or not?"

"Ah, no, ma'am. I'm not sure that I even believe in ghosts," said Jane.

"That's the spirit," said Mrs. Simmons cheerfully. "In that case just move your things into this room here, and you'll be fine."

Mrs. Simmons opened the door to a small but neatly presented room.

Looking over the room, Jane was quite pleased with it. She'd have some privacy and probably a lot more room than in a bedroom with two other girls. Looking over the room she was surprised to see a sturdy little bolt on the door.

She mentioned it to Mrs. Simmons, who sniffed disparagingly.

"One maid who had this room insisted someone was sneaking in at night and touching her," she said. "Such goings on don't occur in any house I run, I assure you, but she complained so much that Master had a bolt put on. Didn't help of course. She left soon after. Claimed that the ghost was touching her."

"I see," said Jane faintly. Apparently she was moving in with a neat ghost who like to touch girls. It would be a new experience, but she suspected that she'd survive.

"Just leave your things here for now and you can come and meet the other girls. You can unpack later."

Subsequently, Jane met the other maids and started work. At tea that night, one of the maids turned to her.

"I suppose you've been put in with Sally and me. Just remember, we were there first and we've got the room the way we like it."

"Actually, no," said Jane. "Mrs. Simmons had given me the empty single bedroom."

There were gasps from the other maids.

"She's put you in with the Phantom Fucker?" asked Agnes aghast. "You'd be a lot better off in with Sally and me, you know. You can always ask to change."

"Put me in with who?" asked Jane, surprised at the crude description.

"What did Mrs. Simmons tell you about the room," hedged Agnes.

"She said that's there's supposed to be a ghost who haunts it and insists on a tidy room."

"She say anything else?" pressed Agnes.

"Um, let's see. She mentioned a previous maid who insisted that the ghost touched her. That's all."

"Ooh, she's a cunning one," snorted Agnes. "Did she tell you why Mary left?"

Jane shook her head. "Not really. Mrs. Simmons just said the maid didn't like the ghost touching her."

There was some sniggering from the other maids.

"What happened," said Agnes, "was this. We heard squealing in the middle of the night from Mary's room. Squealing and yelling up a storm she was. We tried to get in to see what was going on, but the door was bolted. We was hanging round the door, wondering if we should force it open, when the squealing stopped on a bit of a scream. We thought she'd had a nightmare and were about to go back to bed when we heard the bolt pulled and Mary came barging out in the nuddy, crying and saying he fucked her.

We tried to get her to calm down but she wouldn't even go back into the room to get clothes. I had to go and get them, and there wasn't anyone in the room when I went in and the window was closed. I don't think you can open that window.

Anyway, Mary quit on the spot. Said she wasn't staying in any house where ghosts creep into an innocent girl's room and has their way with her. Not that she was so innocent, according to a couple of the footmen.

Mrs. Simmons and the Master both say that Mary just had a nightmare and panicked, but none of the other maids are willing to spend a night in that room. They think the Phantom Fucker might strike again.

Good luck to you if you do."

Jane was appalled. "No," she thought. "It has to be a story to frighten the newcomer."

"I'm sure I'll be fine," she said, smiling hesitantly.

After supper, Jane retired, allowed to leave early as she still had to unpack. Arriving in her room Jane was startled to find her things already unpacked, with her case stowed on top of the wardrobe. She'd have to find who'd been kind enough to help her out and thank them.

Hearing the other maids coming up later, Jane stuck her head out the door.

"Who do I thank for helping me unpack," she asked them, smiling, to be met by an array of blank looks.

Agnes, the apparent spokeswoman for the maids, stepped forward.

"What are you on about?" she asked.

"When I came up to unpack my things, someone had already done it, and stored my cases on top of the wardrobe. I just wanted to say thank you."

A couple of maids paled and moved hastily away, while the others just looked at each other.

"We wouldn't have time for that," said one. "You'd better thank your ghost."

Jane gave them an odd look. They were carrying this just a bit too far, in her opinion, but at least she did have her things unpacked.

Jane retired to her room. She looked at the door for a moment and then slipped the bolt. If they thought to sneak in for some practical jokes while she was asleep, they could think again.

Some time spent reading and a little more bringing her diary up to date, and Jane was ready to sleep. She checked the drawers to see where her nightie had been stored, extracted it, and put it on the bed.

She quickly stripped off her gown and spent a few minutes brushing it down before hanging it up. She turned and reached for her nightie, and the candle went put.

Jane shrugged. Not worth relighting it just to get her nightie on, she thought, but tomorrow she'd check where the draft came from. She hadn't actually noticed one before, but she'd better find it and stop it. She didn't want the candle blowing out at odd times.

Turning and moving slowly towards the bed, hands outstretched to find the bed and her nightie, Jane was taken by surprise when something pushed her in the back.

She stumbled forward, catching her knees on the side of the bed and toppling onto it. She felt someone behind her, standing between her thighs, and then a hand was holding her pressed firmly against the bed, her head in the pillows preventing her from calling out while another hand was moving between her thighs and touching her.

Jane wasn't a virgin, and she knew damned well what that second touch meant. She tried to heave herself upward, only to find that she apparently lifted her bottom into a more advantageous position for the midnight marauder. The hand between her thighs slipped further round and was now fondling her pussy, rubbing back and forth and gently squeezing it.

Jane tried to close her legs, but found she was far too late for this. The stranger was firmly between them, wedging them open, while his hand was stroking little jolts of excitement out of her.

Now her lips were being eased apart and fingers were creeping inside her slit, rubbing and coaxing, generating both heat and damp.

Jane squirmed, struggling against both the stranger and the commands her own body was sending her.

Taking his time, the stranger was playing with her, drawing a response that she didn't want to give. She gave a sob of fury as she felt her bottom lifting to give him easier access.

Taking the offering as though it were deliberate, her assailant now pulled his hand away, replacing it with the head of what felt like a very large and hard erection. Jane again tried to scream, but was muffled by the pillow her face was pressing into. She gave a gasp of horror as she realised that her pussy was pushing firmly itself against that cock that was teasing her, trying to settle onto it.

Then the intruder was really intruding on her, his cock easing past her lips and gently making its way deeper. Jane groaned. It would be easier to take, she thought if he was brutal, but this firm but gentle pressure was something else.

As she found herself being taken, Jane yielded. There wasn't much else she could do except go along with it, but once this swine was finished, she'd kill him.

Once fully inside Jane, her visitor started to move more vigorously, encouraging Jane to move with him. He was not in a hurry, just taking nice long strokes that made a mush of Jane's insides. Her participation was now complete, and her body happily met all the demands he made upon it.

Jane good feel both his hands on her hips now, holding her firmly while he pounded her. She could probably scream now she idly thought, but dismissed the idea to concentrate on the pleasure that was starting to course through her.

The Phantom Fucker, if this was he, seemed to have a lot of experience with maids. He seemed to know just how she felt and when to increase his activity. Now he was thrusting hard, driving her along and at the same time coaxing an orgasm from her.

Now Jane did scream, jamming her face hard against the pillows as she did so, feeling herself twisting and writhing as pleasure flooded her.

Coming down from the heights, Jane found herself relaxing, and then felt the intruder withdrawing. Quickly groping for a match, she lit her candle and looked around, at an empty room.

Jane stared. Nobody there. Nobody anywhere. The door was still bolted. She glanced under the bed. No-one there. Cautiously she opened the wardrobe. Empty apart from her clothes gently swinging.

She was quite alone. Jane picked up her nightie and slipped it on and then got into bed. If this ghost came past every night, she was going to have quite a time here.

She blew out her candle.

Seeing the candle light vanish, Hector, the butler, moved quietly away along the hidden passage. It seemed that he had a new playmate. He wondered how long she'd last.