6 comments/ 93838 views/ 2 favorites The House on Wilshire Road By: Wicked-N-Erotic Jasmine opened the invitation she held clutched in her hand eagerly. She had been waiting on it for a week, knowing it was coming but not what was inside. Bruce would give her no clues but told her she would be surprised. She read through it slowly, You are Cordially Invited to a Halloween Costume Ball When: Saturday, October 30, 2004 Time: 8:00 p.m. Where: The old, abandoned house on Wilshire Road Come dressed in your costume. Don't be late! Jasmine's heart plunged to her stomach when she read where the party was being held. The Wilshire Road house, the "haunted house" as so many referred to it. She knew it was only made up stories that were told to kids to keep them from playing in the decrepit old place, to keep them from getting hurt. She had heard the stories growing up many times and had never gone to the house as a kid or even now as an adult. She was a very superstitious woman and had heeded the warnings all her life, but now, now she was faced with her worst irrational fear. She would have to go to the house, actually go inside of the legendary "Haunted House of Wilshire Road". The house was said to have been owned by a mean spirited man back in the early 1800's. It is said that he was a womanizer. That he kept many mistresses, some of who disappeared without a trace when they had tried to break off the relationship. Lore tells that he had killed them, that they were buried in the walls of the house itself as well as the surrounding grounds of the estate. The story that was told to children was that his dark, evil spirit still dwelled in the house. That he walks the rooms of the place looking for his wife who had went mad because of the murders of his mistresses. It is also said that she was made to help him get rid of the bodies and that on October 31st, 1804 she killed her husband, chopped him into pieces with an axe and burned the pieces in the fireplace. And on every October 31st since, the restless spirits of the woman he killed can be seen dancing in the great ballroom as if celebrating the death of their cruel master. Jasmine's heart was pounding wildly, her palms were sweaty, and her face was pale as a ghost. How appropriate that analogy...pale as a ghost. Trying to put the thought of the old house out of her mind she turned her attention to the package that the invitation had been attached to. Long, rectangular and wrapped in plain brown paper. She studied the box for a few moments, turning it this way and that, shaking it and listening for any clue as to what might be inside. Finally, her curiosity getting the better of her, she ripped the paper away quickly and tossed the lid aside hastily. She gasped at what she saw inside. Bruce, her boyfriend, had thought of everything. He had picked out her costume, a deep red velvet ball gown. It was trimmed with black lace around the low scooping neck and had sheer black/red sleeves that were speckled with silver glitter. A masquerade mask was included in the package, black with red and silver glitter and a dainty pair of silver shoes. She held up a pair of fishnet stockings and smiled. When she lifted the dress out of the box to get a better look at it she found a small plastic bag in the bottom. It contained all of the things she would need aside from the clothes, blood red lipstick and nail polish, other makeup, and a set of beautiful silver pins for her hair. She ran her fingers lazily over the bag of items; she was amazed at how he had thought of even the smallest details. Shortly before eight p.m. Jasmine pulled into the long winding lane that led to the Wilshire Road house. She was nervous, about as nervous as she had ever been in her life. Her pulse beat violently in her head, her palms were slick with sweat, her skin was cool and clammy. Her stomach was doing somersaults when it wasn't sinking to her knees. She couldn't believe she had come here, that she never tried to back out of the invitation even once in the past week. The headlights of her car lit the winding dirt road lined with overgrown bushes and trees that looked as though they were reaching for her. She crept along slowly, dodging potholes that looked as if they'd swallow her little Ford Festiva. Her eyes darted from one side of the road to the other, like she was expecting someone, or some thing to come lumbering out of the thick copse of trees at any moment. Jasmine hit the brakes; suddenly she was looking up at the towering, ominous looking front gate that seemed to have materialized right before her. It was in surprisingly good shape, the wrought iron looked almost new instead of over 200 years old. She noticed the initials that were on the gate, M B, made of twisted iron, they seemed familiar to her but she couldn't place why. Just past the gate the house caught her attention, it looked so well kept, nothing like she had imagined it would. In her mind she was expecting to see a place with boards hanging half off the outside walls, vines creeping up and over the windows, rickety stairs and broken shutters that banged into the walls in the wind. She had started to relax a little when the house didn't meet her expectations. The house that was in front of her didn't conjure images of evil or wicked Masters; it could have just as easily been a historical manor open to tourist. She sat there taking in all the beauty of the house when the creaking of the iron gates startled her back to reality. They were opening to let her pass... but how? There was no one here to open them. Surely they weren't on some kind of sensor, which would be to modern for such an old place and besides who would put sensors on an abandoned house? "Bruce", she said aloud, he had thought of everything else for her for that night, why not put automatic openers on the gates. Bruce, after six months he was still as much a mystery to her as he was the first time they met. Yet she had fallen head over heals for him in no time. Jasmine moved forward, slowly guiding her car around the fountain that still sat in splendid glory only feet away from the door. Turning off the ignition she gave herself a once over in the rearview mirror and smoothed back her hair before fixing her mask over her eyes. Just as she was reaching for the handle to get out, the door opened for her. She screamed, looking up into the fathomless black eyes of a man she'd never seen before. She was paralyzed with fear, unable to speak although her mind raced with a million questions. Where had he come from? She didn't see anyone walk in front of the car and she would have surely seen anyone who had walked behind it while she looked in the rearview mirror. Who was he? What was he going to do to her? Why was he here? "Good evening Mistress Jasmine. Master Billings is waiting for you in the parlor"; his voice was low and deep, almost monotone. "Canterbury, the butler, will meet you in the foyer and show you the way". Mistress Jasmine? Master Billings? Who spoke like that now - a - days, Jasmine thought. A butler? "Bruce sure was going all out to make this feel like the real thing", she mumbled as she climbed the steps to the door. When she reached the large wooden door she looked back over her shoulder. The eerie man that had helped her from her car was gone, like he'd vanished into thin air, just as he had appeared. Jasmine opened the door slowly, peering around it, looking inside cautiously. The old wood cracked on its hinges as she pushed it wider, the sound echoed in the cavern of the foyer as well as in her ears. She stepped just inside; holding the door open, ready to sprint back to her car if the need should present itself. She looked around for Canterbury, the butler. It was dark and shadowy, only lit by a few burning candles and two torches mounted to opposite sides of the walls at the far end of the room. There was a dank, musty smell, a smell of decay that filled and stung her nostrils, although the place looked relatively clean for being abandoned. Jasmine released her vice like grip on the door and walked farther into the entry. She noticed pictures hanging on the walls but couldn't make out what or who they were in the dim light. And then just as she was about to swipe a cobweb from one of them the door slammed shut and she heard footsteps coming toward her from down an adjacent hall. Her heart skipped and thudded in her chest. "Why are you so scared", she asked herself over and over? "Bruce is here, there is nothing to be afraid of and he would never let anything happen to you". Jasmine turned to look down the hall in the direction of the footsteps, a short, round figure started to take shape in the shadows as it drew closer. "Good evening Mistress. I am Canterbury, if you will follow me, the Master is waiting for you, this way, in the parlor", he gestured with his arm the direction for her to follow and started off without waiting for any reply. Jasmine followed him hesitantly, staying a good distance behind him, not wanting to get close enough that he could reach out and grab her. She made mental notes of the hall she entered in relation to the front door should she need to make a hasty exit. Noticing bright light coming from a room just ahead she reasoned that it was the parlor and that Bruce would be there, waiting for her. Her assumption was correct. When she turned the corner to enter the room she saw Bruce standing on the opposite side, leaning against the wall by the fireplace which had logs blazing in the hearth. She sank into herself, relieved to see him; she smiled at him while Canterbury asked if there would be anything more before he retired for the night. "That will be all, Canterbury. Thank you. You may go", with a wave of dismissal Bruce motioned for him to leave them alone. After Canterbury had left Jasmine practically ran across the room to Bruce, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him deeply. When she finally broke from his embrace Jasmine had a look of confusion on her face, why was Bruce ordering the man around like he was a common servant? If he had hired him to give the illusion of being master of the manor then why did he send him home for the night when none of the other guests have arrived yet? And where were the other guests, shouldn't they have been here by now, the invitation said 8:00 P.M.... Don't be late? She was curious and she let it be known, she asked him those very questions as she let her fingers play across his chest and in his hair. "Ahh, Jasmine. Sweet, innocent flower of my heart, you ask so many questions, where should I begin. There are many things you do not know about me. Answers will come as the night wears on, but first, let me ask you a question. Would you have come here tonight if I had told you that you were going to be the only guest at this party, that this party was just for you"? She looked at him, puzzled, "Why am I the only one you invited"? Bruce pulled her to him, crushing her to his muscular chest tightly. His lips claimed hers in a passionate kiss, his tongue delved between her soft, pouty lips as he sucked and pulled gently at the tender flesh. His hands began to move over her body, kneading and caressing. Gliding down her back to her round buttocks and back up and across her bare shoulders. Jasmine moaned into his mouth, her fears dissipating like fog in the morning sun under his touch. She pressed herself into him harder, feeling the warmth of his body penetrate her dress, her skin and her soul. He was always able to make her forget everything with his kisses and touch. He made everything else seem so unimportant when he held her like this. She already could care less that she was the only one here with him, alone... in this house. Bruce brought a hand between them, cupping her breast, fondling the supple flesh tenderly. His fingers worked her already erect nipple diligently as he deepened the kiss, bruising her lips with his passion. Finally, breaking away breathlessly, he took her hand and started to lead her to the doorway through which she had entered earlier. She followed, trusting, holding his hand tightly. She was intoxicated by their passion, she would do anything he asked at this moment, anything to make him hold her again and kiss her so lustfully. When they entered the dark hall Bruce made a left turn, leading them farther into darkness. He felt Jasmine tighten her grip on his hand, and he, sensing her apprehension, spoke to her to ease her mind. "It's OK. Don't be scared, I'm taking us to another room where I can show you more pleasure than you've ever known. I'll be with you the whole time, I won't leave you. Trust me" Jasmine's heart pounded in her ears as she repeated his words over and over in her mind, "more pleasure then you've ever known", she sighed and moaned softly. She liked the sound of that; she was already so aroused from his kisses and caresses. She loosened her grip a little as she let him lead her through the black corridor. Not far ahead she saw dim light coming from under a door. Her pulse quickened in anticipation, again repeating his words in her mind. When they reached the door he pushed it open slowly, leading her inside. A fire was burning in the hearth in this room as well. She looked around, noting how empty the room was save for two chairs and a side table by the fireplace. Bruce dropped her hand and strode to the decanter on the side table. He poured them both a glass of brandy, hoping the drink would relax Jasmine a bit more. Hoping it would loosen her up and make her susceptible to his plan. He had so much to show her, so much to tell her. He needed her to be as calm and open minded as possible if she was going to accept everything he had in store for her. As he finished pouring the brandy into the second glass he felt her brush against him. He turned to face her, smiling at her as he handed her the drink. "Here, drink this and have a seat. We can sit and talk for a bit and warm up by the fire", Bruce took her hand as she sat into the chair closest to the hearth. As she sat down and settled herself into the large, high back chair she asked him, "Why have you gone to such measures to have me here...at this house? Why the gown if there wasn't going to be a party? And I guess the real question...why this house"? Jasmine looked around the room again as she asked the last question and sipped at her glass, peering over the rim at him. "Alright my sweet, I suppose it is time for some answers", Bruce said, chuckling a little under his breath at knowing the answers were not going to make her feel any more comfortable. "First off, why this house? Well, I have told you that I was adopted when I was very young and that I have been searching for my birth family for some time. My search has led me to so many dead ends, false leads and disappointments. A month ago I came across some information that finally panned out and I found my family. I traced my family tree and found that this house had belonged to my great-great grandfather. No one in the family had wanted it I was told, because of the story that goes with it, so I bought it", sipping his brandy he hesitated, waiting for her to ask the question that he knew was imminent after revealing he had found his family, and she didn't disappoint him. "Oh Bruce, that's wonderful. I'm so happy that you found your family. Have you contacted them? Have you met with them", her excitement for him carried over into her words. She knew he had been searching for so long to find who he was...where he came from. "No, I haven't yet met my parents. I have only met a sister that I didn't know I had. She is very beautiful, so charming and witty", he smirked at the last of his statements. "When I met her I didn't tell her who I was, we met at a coffee house where I heard she hung out. I went there and waited for her, I introduced myself and we hit it off and talked for hours", Bruce had changed a few of the details of his meeting with his sister, it wasn't important that Jasmine knowing everything just yet. Bruce stood in front of Jasmine and knelt at her feet. He took her hands in his and brought them to his lips, kissing each knuckle softly. When he had adorned the last one with a kiss he leaned in and brushed her lips with his. Releasing her hands, his made their way up her arms to her shoulders and pulled her to him, kissing her more passionately, parting her lips hungrily with his tongue, probing her mouth. Jasmine returned his kisses with as much enthusiasm and fever as he showed for her. She sighed softly as he caressed her back, letting her hands weave through his hair as she became drunk with lust. Never before had a man made her feel so much, so deeply. Never had a man made her this weak from just a kiss. Pulling his lips from hers he moved to her neck, licking and nibbling between kisses on the velvety flesh. He spoke a word at a time as he continued to let his lips and tongue play across the soft skin. "Do...you...trust...me, Jasmine"? With her head lulled back in ecstasy she moaned the word, "Yes". Bruce stood, pulling her up with him. His arms wrapped around her shoulders and crushed her breasts to his chest as he placed butterfly kisses across her eyelids, her forehead and nose. "Will you do something for me, my sweet", he asked in a husky voice laced with arousal? "Yes, anything. Just tell me what you want", she panted, her voice raspy with desire. Bruce's hands slid slowly up and down her back, finally coming to rest on the top hook that closed the back of the dress. He opened it effortlessly and moved on to the next, and the next when she gave no protest. When he had released the last of the hooks he slid the dress off of her shoulders, down her arms, until it pooled around her waist. He kept his eyes locked on hers the whole time. Watching her reaction, looking for apprehension and finding none. Jasmine had wanted him to take her so many times, but she didn't want to make the first move. She waited patiently for months for him to initiate more than a kiss, now, it was finally happening. She moaned loudly as his hands cupped her breasts through the red, lace bra that he had sent with the dress. His fingers trailed down the cleft of her cleavage as they made their way to the release on the front of the bra. She shivered uncontrollably with excitement. His hands felt hot against her skin, smooth and tender. Bruce bent forward to take her erect nipple between his lips. He sucked it gently, his tongue making lazy circles around the nub, causing it to harden even more. "Mmm, Jasmine", he groaned as he stood upright, looking into her eyes. Her lids were weighted with desire, half open, as she stared at him. He knew he could get her to do whatever he asked from this point on. He knew it was time to move on to the next part of his plan. Taking her by the hand he led her backward into the shadowed part of the room. She followed him, as if under some kind of spell, not thinking of anything but wanting his hands and mouth on her body again. Completely surrounded by darkness in the back of the room, she felt Bruce moving around her. First removing her dress from her hips, sliding it down her legs, leaving the fishnet stockings in place. She felt him raise her arms over her head and her wrists being bound tightly to something above. She could have protested but she kept silent, anticipating what would come next. She didn't wait long before she felt her legs being gently spread wide and then bound just as tenderly, held firmly in a spread eagle position. He removed her mask from her eyes; she had forgotten it was still on. Silence, thundered in her ears as loud as her heartbeat. Where was he she thought? She had not felt him near her for several minutes. "Bruce, are you there"? Her voice betrayed the calm she was trying to show. The House on Wilshire Road "Yes my sweet, I'm still here". He began lighting the torches that were mounted to the walls around the room, dimly illuminating Jasmine's surroundings. "Are you OK? Are you comfortable in this position", he asked as he softly caressed her bare breasts from behind, pinching the nipples lightly? "Mmm, yes. I'm fine as long as you're here". "Great. Jasmine, I want to play a little game with you. Are you up to it", Bruce walked around to stand in front of her, his fingers still fondling her hard nipples as he awaited her answer. He knew she'd say yes, he just wanted to hear her verbalize it. "Umm, what kind of game? How can I play if you have me tied up", she said, sounding a bit hesitant. "Ahh, my sweet. You are so innocent. This will be so much fun", he chuckled as he bent to take her protruding nipple between his teeth. He bit down lightly on the sensitive nub causing her to recoil from the slight pain. He reached between her legs and pinched her nether lips roughly, pushing the thong panties aside hastily as he did. "Hey, that hurt. I don't think I want to do this anymore. Untie me, I don't want to play if it is going to hurt". Jasmine's voice shook as she spoke, a sudden fear shot through her like lightening. "What are you going to do about it?" Bruce laughed loudly before he bit down again, harder this time. "Seems to me that no one will hear you scream, and don't even think about trying it or I'll be forced to use this", he held up a handkerchief and swung it back and forth in front of her face, smiling wickedly. Jasmine's eyes started to burn as tears welled up and softly streaked her cheeks. She noticed how dark Bruce's eyes looked now. The bright sparkle had all but faded, and his smile, once so welcoming now looked twisted into a scowl. Her heart raced, "What's going on, why are you doing this to me", she sobbed? "Why...why am I doing this to you? Oh, that's right, you don't really know who I am", he retorted sarcastically. "Well, let's get to our little game and I'll see what I can do to give you some answers". He walked behind her and slapped her bare ass, his hand stinging the supple flesh when it made contact. Jasmine gasped and sobbed harder when he slapped her bare cheeks, she thrust her hips forward trying to escape the blows that came one after the other. He spanked her tender bottom ten times before stopping and coming to face her once again. Using the handkerchief, he wiped the tears from her reddened face, "Awe, come on now. Surely it wasn't that bad, my sweet. You must have found at least some pleasure in that"? He leaned into her and kissed her hard on the mouth, sucking at her lower lip and pulling at it with his teeth when she tried to turn away from him. "Here is how our game is going to be played. You will give me a pleasure and I will give you an answer. If you refuse me it will be painful, if you play along it will be pleasurable for both of us. Let's begin". Bruce reached for her pert nipple and started rolling it between his thumb and finger. He applied just enough pressure without causing pain. Jasmine's body betrayed her as he fondled her breasts, she moaned softly in spite of herself, in spite of her mounting fear. She wanted to scream, but like he said, who would hear her? They were miles away from anyone. She was shocked to find that although she was scared to death she was getting wet from his touch. How could this be happening she asked herself? "Okay", Jasmine sniffed, the tears still streaming down her face, "Who are you? You said I really didn't know you, so tell me"? "Alright, fair enough question, but first my pleasure. He bent forward and kissed her deeply, his tongue snaking past her lips and probing the dark cavern of her mouth. He sensed her relenting as she returned the kiss. His hands cupped her breasts and squeezed them tenderly while he dined on her mouth. Suddenly he pulled away, releasing her weighty mounds from his grip. "I am Martin Burrows, named for my great-great grandfather. My adoptive parents named me Bruce Billings. Now, another pleasure for me and then another answer for you", he smiled wickedly as he dropped to his knees in front of her. Jasmine's pulse pounded wildly in her head as she tried with all her might to remember where she had heard that name before, Martin Burrows. Her concentration was lost when she felt him slowly slip a finger along the outer lips of her pussy. She fought to keep her hips still when he pushed past the inner lips and into her wet sheath. She moaned as he moved his finger in and out of her several times and then gasped in protest when he withdrew it all together. Why was she still so aroused by him, she thought to herself, especially when he was treating her this way? Bruce looked up at her from his position on the floor; he sucked his finger into his mouth and moaned low in his throat as he tasted her juices. He started to unbutton his shirt while giving her permission to ask her next question. "Why were you put up for adoption"? Jasmine didn't even try to hide the quaver of her voice as she spoke this time. Though she wasn't thrilled with the game at first, she knew that she was going to have to ask another question in order for him to give her more pleasure. Why she even still wanted him to she didn't know. "My parents couldn't afford to have a baby when I was born, they weren't ready, so they put me up for adoption when I was only a few months old". Bruce pulled his shirt over of his shoulders and off of his arms. "They had my sister three years later. You know, I think you like this game", he said as he pulled her by the hips closer to his face. He inhaled deeply, making a scene of breathing in her musky scent before he slid his tongue across her moist lips, tasting her nectar. Jasmine groaned loudly and tried to buck her hips against his masterful tonguing. She tried to get him to delve his tongue deep into her and lick her harder. But Bruce refrained from giving her too much, he drug his tongue softly over her clit, barely touching her, pushing her hips back when she thrust forward. He was keeping her on the edge, keeping her hungry for more. "Okay, my turn", she announced, trying to sound confident and calm. "Do I know your sister? What is her name"? "Ah, my sweet, that's two questions, you'll have to save one for the next time", Bruce stood and walked behind her, rubbing his hand over the tiny white welts that had been left from his spanking. Knowing she could take a few more whacks without really hurting her he brought his hand down across her bottom hard and fast. Jasmine groaned and a scream caught in her throat. "Ouu, you said it wouldn't hurt if I played along", why are you spanking me"? "Oh you know you like it and it gives me pleasure to see you squirm", he laughed. While he stood behind her he unzipped his pants and let them fall to the floor around his ankles. She was getting close to the million-dollar question and he wanted to be inside of her when she asked it. She was the perfect height for him to penetrate her in this position. He guided his cock between her legs, slowly rubbing the head against her clit, lubricating it with her dripping juices. Moving back and forth he let the head rest against the opening of her warm sheath. As he thrust himself into her hard, making her gasp from the force, he answered her first question. Groaning with pleasure, holding her hips tightly, he whispered in her ear, "Yes my sweet, you know my sister. You know her very well in fact". He pounded into Jasmine wildly, thrusting over and over, pulling her onto him by her hips. "Ask your next question or I will stop", he said through clenched teeth. Jasmine was overcome with lust, with the violent torrent of thrust that Bruce was unleashing on her. It was no longer against her will that he fucked her, she was now playing along of her own choice, she wanted it, wanted it as badly as she had wanted anything before this. She moaned and twisted her pussy against him, urging him to drive deeper into her. Panting she finally asked the next question to insure that he wouldn't stop. "What is your sister's name", a scream caught in her throat as he thrust up into her hard, pushing her forward and causing her wrist and ankles to strain against their bonds. It seemed that that question excited him immensely, driving him to punish her sopping cunt more feverishly. Breathing hard Bruce put his mouth next to her ear as he continued his assault on her clenching pussy. "Her name is Jasmine", he grunted loudly, pistoning hard in and out of her. Immediately Jasmine put two and two together and the name, Martin Burrows, came to her in a flash. He was indeed her great-great grandfather as well. "Oh my god, no, it can't be. STOP, please stop. How can you do this to me? How can you do this knowing I'm your sister? She twisted and struggled against him trying to make him stop fucking her but his grip was strong and nothing she did made any difference other than to urge him on. She went limp against her bonds and hung there, sobbing as he pounded into her with more eagerness than before. And even after he told her that she was his sister she couldn't help enjoy still having him inside of her. She couldn't keep her hips from grinding into him. The harder he pushed the more she wanted it. She moaned louder and began bucking her hips in rhythm with his. Though her body was betraying her, her mind still raced with thoughts that it was wrong. It was wrong for them to do this, wrong for her to want him to keep fucking her. As she fought with her conscience her body tensed, she was cumming, and her body shook and writhed on Bruce's cock, her brother's cock. Why did it have to be this way, why did the one man that has ever made her this happy have to be her brother? Bruce felt Jasmine tighten on his dick, felt the swollen head of his cock growing bigger as he was about to empty his seed into her. He had planned this for months after learning who he was...who she was. He had fallen in love with her and didn't care that she was his own flesh and blood. He pulled her limp body back into his hard, one last time, his cock as deep as he could get it as he emptied his balls into her womb. He grunted, a low guttural moan echoing in the room as he fell forward, his body lying against hers. He lay there a few minutes, catching his breath, letting his legs steady themselves before he moved back around in front of her. When he came face to face with her he wiped the tears from her cheeks and kissed her tenderly, then unbound her ankles and wrists. She fell into his arms, exhausted from her orgasm and spent from the emotional overload. She cried softly against his bare chest as he held her tight, caressing her hair and telling her it would be okay. "Jasmine, no one has to know but us. No one knows me as being anything other than Bruce Billings. I can fuck you and make you feel that kind of pleasure everyday and only you and I have to know that we are brother and sister. What do you say? You know you loved it. You know that when I told you it excited you, at least in some small way". "I can't believe this. I can't believe you did that to me. And I can't believe that I liked it", she said in almost a whisper. "Yes, it did excite me, it was wrong, it was a sin and I wanted you to keep fucking me even after you said I was your sister. Are you sure no one will know"? Bruce started to answer her when he heard a noise in the house. "Shhh", he told her. I hear something. Get dressed, I think someone is in the house, stay here while I go check it out". "No way, you're not leaving me here alone. Give me a minute, I'm coming with you". Jasmine hurriedly slipped back into her dress and followed him into the hall, her fears from earlier about the house were renewed. When they opened the door the sounds were louder, coming from the other side of the house. It sounded like a party, music and laughter resounded off the walls. Bruce put his finger over his lips, signing for Jasmine to be quiet. They walked silently in the direction of the music, peering into each room they passed, checking for intruders. They made their way into the foyer where Jasmine had entered the house, the music and laughter was much louder here, coming from behind the hulking wood doors on the opposite side of the room from where they entered. Bruce stopped and looked back at Jasmine, again motioning for her to be as quiet as she could. Then, creeping slowly they made their way to the doors. Bruce put his ear against the cold wood, listening for anything that might tell him who was on the other side. He slowly pushed the doors open, cautiously peeking into the room. His eyes darted quickly from one corner of the dark room to another. After his initial visual inspection, he pushed the doors wide, Jasmine stood on tiptoe to look over his shoulder. The room was dark and empty; the music had stopped as well as the laughter. There was no one there. Bruce closed the doors as he backed away from the room. He looked at his watch, noting that it was after midnight and they should get going back to town, then at Jasmine who had a look of shear terror on her face. "Hey it had to have been our imaginations right, you know, the lore of the house and all. Let's get back to town, it's late and a long drive". Although he tried to sound calm, Jasmine detected the unease in his voice. She didn't wait on him to say another word and sprinted quickly to the door, breathing a sigh of relief as she filled her lungs with the crisp night air. She ran down the stairs and to her car, Bruce was right behind her and jumped in the passenger seat just as Jasmine was putting the car in gear. She pointed the car toward the open iron gates and stepped on the gas. When she had reached the lane beyond the house she looked back through her rearview mirror, she gasped and nearly ran off the road at what she saw. Bruce turned in his seat, glancing back at the house, "Oh my God, I must be dreaming, this can't be. Did you see what I think I saw"? "Yea, I think I did. If you saw women dancing around in the beautifully lit ballroom, a room that looked as new as the day it was built, like they were celebrating some grand event, then yea...I saw the same thing you did". Jasmine shuddered as a cold chill crept up her spine, she pushed the gas pedal to the floor and sped down the lane toward the main road as fast as she could. "You know we can't tell anyone what we just witnessed. No one would believe us, they'd have us committed, Bruce said, his voice serious and low. "I know, I know. So what are you going to do with it...now that you own a haunted house", Jasmine was trying to sound condescending, but her fear still filtered through. "Well, Sis...It really is our house". Jasmine shot him a look, a proverbial, "if looks could kill he'd be dead on the spot" look. She cleared her throat, "speaking of the "sis thing", if we are going to continue seeing each other then you had better never call me that again...unless of course you are fucking me like you did tonight", a wicked smile curled her lips as she thought about the surge of excitement that spiraled through her when he told her he was her brother. She couldn't believe she was telling him she still wanted to be with him. Most of all she couldn't get home fast enough to have him inside of her again.