3 comments/ 19087 views/ 8 favorites Ghost Seekers - The Three Ladies By: TwistedPlayr I was ecstatic when I found out the television show 'Ghost Seekers' picked me to be their new paranormal investigator. I had submitted my application almost a year earlier and had all but given up hope. I knew that I had many things going against me. I had just recently turned nineteen, would be the only woman on the show, and had no experience as a paranormal investigator. Still, I hoped to land what was more than a job to me, as the paranormal was an important part of my life. My name is Kim, and it all started when I was nine years old. My family had recently moved to a large, older house in Michigan. My brothers were all at least three years older than me, so I spent most of my time playing alone. It was during these lonely hours that I would hear strange noises and faint laughter as I played in the halls and rooms of the old house. I was curious, but never frightened as I tried to find the source of the disturbances. I told my mother what I heard, but she only smiled, thinking that I was just playing a game. The voices and sounds continued for years, and I grew to accept them. It was clear that no one else in my family could hear the disturbances or they simply didn't talk about it. The voices and feeling of having a companion comforted me during my young years. Though I had no proof, I felt that whoever this spirit was, it was a boy. I didn't feel him when my family was around, but I could feel his presence like a warm glow when they left. Everything was fine until one day when I was fourteen years old. My house was in a rural area, so I rarely had friends over to visit. Those that did come by were always girls, and during those times my friend did not leave, but I could feel less of his warm energy. It was a cool fall day when I came home from school, and I wasn't alone. Tommy, one of the boys from my class walked me home. It was a long walk from school, but he told me that he didn't mind. We had become friends the previous year but he went to camp during the summer. I never expected him to think about me over the break, but he did, and even brought me presents that he made for me during camp. I wasn't thinking as he walked me to the front door, and was only dimly aware of the usual, comforting warmth I felt as I stood on the porch. My friend was there, but I was only thinking of Tommy. He surprised me by asking if I would go with him to the upcoming school dance and I blushed furiously as I accepted. I was still blushing when he leaned forward and gave me a soft kiss. I would like to say that I kissed him back, but I was too excited by my first kiss to remember. That evening, Tommy and the feel of his lips against mine preoccupied me. I was oblivious to everything as I finished my homework and went to bed, childlike visions of my first love flitting through my mind. I was so self-absorbed that I had forgotten about my unseen friend. I had forgotten him, and he wasn't happy about it. I awoke near midnight to uncomfortable warmth. I kicked my covers off, but was still too warm. I finally sat up; fully awake and confused about why I would be so hot on a fall night. I jumped when I saw the figure standing at the foot of my bed. I knew at once that this was my, until now, unseen friend. He seemed solid, but was more shadow than substance. He stood looking at me, and moved like he was crying. In all the years we lived in the house, my friend never appeared. He had always been my silent comfort. Now, he was in distress but I didn't know why. I wanted to comfort him but I wasn't sure what to do. When I began to slide out of the bed, he moved away. His shadowy form become lighter, like a smoke thinning on the wind. I stopped as he looked at me, and I could feel his tears as he shook his head. I didn't understand until I spied a patch of brown clutched in his shadowy hand. He was holding a leather wallet, one of the presents Tommy had given to me. I watched as he looked at it, his head shaking slowly from side to side. He was upset that I met another boy. My heart was twisting because he was so hurt, and I rushed toward him, but only embraced a warm darkness that disappeared as the wallet dropped softly to the floor. I never felt the warmth of my friend again, no matter how many hours of solitude I spent in the old house. Tommy turned out to be my first love, and though we remained friends, he was not my last. Still, I never forgot my friend and my relationship with him. It left me curious about the unearthly people that we can't see. There isn't much work for paranormal investigators, so I couldn't write fast enough when the Ghost Seekers television show advertised that they were looking for new members. I sent a resume and a short description of my paranormal experience, knowing that it was a long shot they would pick me. I screamed like a schoolgirl after I hung up the phone. The lead investigator of the show was eager to meet me. It was Thursday afternoon, and he invited me to join the team in investigating two houses that weekend. I told my parents the good news, to which my mother gave me her usual smile. It wasn't the career they envisioned for their daughter, but they were happy that I was pursuing my dream. I ran around like a dervish, packing my bags and preparing to leave. Don, the lead investigator, called me back and gave me the details for my flight. The show was paying my way to New Orleans, and I could pick up my tickets at the airport. He told me I would meet the rest of the team when I arrived. One of them would be my mentor until I was ready to investigate on my own. I couldn't stop smiling; I was finally going to confront the unknown. I barely sat through the flight on Friday morning, as I could not help but anticipate what would happen on my first night as a paranormal investigator. I was an avid fan of the show and knew that they rarely came across any evidence to support the claims of ghostly activity. I found it most exciting when they found something they couldn't explain. Would I meet a person from the beyond? Don met me at the airport, and my excitement turned to nervousness as I shook hands with the same man I had seen dozens of times on my television. It hit me like a cold wave. He was a television star and within a few hours I would be too. Now, I know one show doesn't make a person a star, but just being on television is enough to excite an average person. The next few hours passed by in a blur as I met the rest of the team and received a quick tutorial on how the equipment worked. I would be using a small voice recorder to try to capture any sounds a spirit might make, as well as an EMF detector. The EMF detector could measure electromagnetic energy in the area: a possible side effect of a nearby spirit. I would partner with Bill, one of the experienced investigators. Bill would use a digital camcorder to try to capture any visual evidence. I felt a bit rushed as Don whisked me through my orientation, but I was too excited to let it bother me. I soon found myself sitting in a black van heading down the streets of New Orleans to my first haunted house. The team made me feel right at home, as we swapped stories about our first encounters with the paranormal. It was during the ride that I received the bad news. Bill explained that this would probably be the last season for the Ghost Seekers program. "The station managers and sponsors want us to produce proof of ghostly activity. They want photos and videos of ghosts, as if this is a Hollywood production." Bill snorted. I couldn't believe it. I wanted this so badly, and now they were telling me it might not last. I must admit I was a bit deflated, but I quickly changed my attitude. If the show was going to end, I would get the most out of it that I could. My mother always said that I was hopelessly optimistic, and maybe it was true. The show never produced a clear picture of a spectral apparition, but perhaps tonight would be the first. We were investigating a house located in the historic French Quarters of New Orleans. The place had a long and dark history dating back to the early 1900's when a young doctor of psychology practiced bizarre medical and sexual experiments. The current owner, Doctor James found not only the house, but also the work of the former owner to be fascinating. He described the doctors work as being revolutionary, but said that a dark side of the doctor destroyed his reputation. The Doctor gave us a tour of the house, pointing out areas where most of the reported activity took place. I kept quiet and listened to every word he said, not wanting to miss any details. After climbing a steep set of stairs, we came to the attic. He explained that most of the old doctors equipment never left the house, and the attic was where the previous occupant did most of his work. The attic was lofty and spacious, but it was the doctor's devices and furniture that gave everyone pause, including me. Various objects of restraint hung from the walls, as well as leather-covered benches of various shapes and sizes. What I can only describe as a wooden gynecology chair, equipped with leg brackets and leather cuffs, sat in the middle of the room. Doctor James explained that after moving in, unseen hands pushed him on many occasions. The physical assaults ended abruptly after a month or so, but he still heard voices and would see ghostly figures in the halls. "Whatever happened to the doctor?" I asked while looking around the room. "No one knows. Neighbors heard screaming late one evening, and when the police arrived they found three young women restrained in this room. They searched for the doctor but never found him. The police believe he fled the city." Doctor James told us. "What happened to the women?" I asked. "There were three women in all, immigrants from France, Italy and England. They never told what experiments the doctor performed. Stranger still, they bought the property once the city declared it vacant and put it up for sale. They lived here until they died, never marrying or having children. Rumor was they ran an exclusive brothel for the social elite." He explained. I must admit the room was interesting. It's difficult to describe how an old room feels. This room with its devices was older than me. I could feel energy and a sense of activity that sent a shiver down my spine. If the walls of this room could talk, they would have spoken volumes. Doctor James left us and we began setting up the equipment. The work took longer than it appeared on television. We ran hundreds of yards of cable, placing multiple cameras in every room, with the cables connecting to the control center in one of the vans. With the cameras set, Don gave me an EMF detector and voice recorder. Don assigned us our rooms, and I almost jumped with joy when he said that Bill and I would be investigating the attic. I was soon in the attic, living out my dream of being a Ghost Seeker. Wouldn't it be great if I experienced an encounter my first night? The first thing we did was to take EMF readings around the room. My earlier instructions, as well as my experience at watching the show made the job a snap. I checked every inch of the room, reporting to Bill my findings. We both found it amazing, the EMF readings spiked anytime we came near any of the furniture or devices. We examined each carefully, and found that none of them used or were near a source of electricity. This was truly perplexing. We continued our investigation by asking questions, hoping to catch any sounds with my electronic voice recorder. We didn't hear anything, but that was all right, the night was still young. A crackle on Bill's walkie-talkie broke the silence and startled me. "Bill, we're not receiving the video feed from the room. Can you check the equipment?" Don asked through the squawking communicator. Bill gave me his camcorder and then began checking the other cameras. "Their running fine." He commented as he began tracing the cabling. He stepped out of the room for a few seconds before returning. "The cameras are on, and the cables look fine. There must be a malfunction in recorder." Bill said into the walkie-talkie. I had seen equipment failures happen during the show, so it didn't bother me. We still had the handheld camcorder as well as our voice recorder. It may not have worried me, but Don didn't like it. "Bill, trace the lines all the way back to the truck. I switched out the feeds and there is nothing wrong with the recorder. Let our newbie do a little solo work." Don said, with a chuckle that held a hint of frustration. "Will you be all right if I leave you alone?" Bill asked. "Yeah, I don't frighten that easily." I told him. "Okay, just call out on your walkie-talkie if you find yourself becoming scared. If you feel you can't handle it then just leave and come outside. You don't have anything to prove." He said to me, sounding just like my father. I continued to examine the room once Bill left. I wasn't a woman of the world, but I wasn't innocent either. The doctors' furniture and tools were sexual in design, and I had hidden my interest in them while Bill was with me. The gynecology chair in the middle of the room was the most intriguing. Instead of a full bench to lie down on, it had a slim backrest with a horseshoe shaped seat similar to that of a public toilet. When seated, it would leave its occupant fully exposed from underneath. A crank on either side could spread the leg stirrups wider, and the dangling leather restraints would hold a person's foot in place. As I examined the bench more closely, it did not surprise me to see a series of leather restraints positioned down the back of the backrest. I couldn't help but shiver, knowing there would be no chance of escape for anyone restrained in this diabolical piece of furniture. The faint sound of metal clinking caught my ear, and I turned to scan the room. There were many metal instruments that hung from the walls, but one stood out from the rest. I trained the camcorder on the object and walked closer, all the while describing to the camera what I was seeing. I doubted this would make the edit, but I couldn't let it be. The device was shiny and shaped like a modern dildo. Yeah, like I said I'm not innocent. It was sitting horizontally, balanced on two curved brackets, and I felt certain it was the object that made the noise. I zoomed in with the camcorder and gasped as the smooth cylinder rocked in its holder. I continued filming as it rocked back and forth, picking up speed and force until it rolled from its curved bracket. A metallic clang echoed through the room as the tube hit the floor. I continued to film as it rolled, eventually coming to an abrupt stop at my feet. "Do you want me to look at this?" I asked aloud. I had seen the tube move deliberately and could not come up with a logical explanation of how it happened. I took a deep breath and bent down to pick up the tube, finding it surprisingly warm. It was midfall and the room was cool, yet the smooth steel cylinder was as warm as if it had been lying in the summer sun. A soft click from across the room caught my attention. I turned to find the door to the room had closed, leaving me alone in the quiet attic, the only light coming from my flashlight. I felt panic beginning to rise in my chest and forced it back down. I could run or call out for help on the walkie-talkie, but what would I gain? I had sought this contact and wanted to see it through. "Who are you?" I said aloud. "Are you the doctor, or one of the women of the house?" I stood so still and quiet that I could hear my own breath. I struggled to hear any response or any movement, but there was only silence. I forced myself to breathe as I resumed moving about the room. I wouldn't let anyone or anything scare me. I crossed the room, passing the insidious chair that sat in the middle, and felt a sudden flush of warmth against my back. It was a kind of warmth I had not felt in years. I looked down at my hand, which was still clutching the metal tube, and realized that it shared that same type of warmth. I felt my heart hammering in my chest and the sound of my own blood pumping through my veins almost became a roar in my ears. I fought the fear and pushed it down. This could not be my old friend, so who was it and what did they want? I gathered my strength and turned around slowly, prepared for whatever ghastly horror awaited. Only it was a young woman who greeted me. Her long black hair tumbled over olive-tanned skin and her eyes were a deep hazel brown. She wasn't a shadowy form like my friend had been. She was vivid and solid, belying her ghostly status. It was the little details that gave away her true nature. Her feet didn't touch the ground and her hairstyle was quite old. Besides, she stood naked before me. Her body was slim and her breasts were, small, firm and round like apples. "Hello..." I said, not knowing what to do. The young woman smiled at me but didn't say a word. I began to speak, but felt another pulse of warmth against my back. This was becoming more than I bargained for. I turned to find another young woman. She also had black hair but her eyes were dark as pitch. Her skin was fair, and her face was slim. As naked as the first ghost, I couldn't help but admire her smooth pale skin. Before I could speak, I felt even more warmth against my body. I turned toward the sensation, not surprised to find a third woman. Her hair was brown and her eyes a piercing blue. Her naked body was curvaceous and her breasts large but firm against her chest. I realized that they must be the three women found by the police and who eventually bought the house. I didn't want to be rude but couldn't resist raising the camcorder and trying to capture them on film. The trio didn't try to stop me as I focused on each of them in turn. I quickly felt silly and lowered the camera, sitting it down on a nearby bench, with the voice recorder and EMF detector that I had stashed in my pockets. "Are you the three former owners of this house?" I asked, to which the three women nodded. I was giddy with excitement. This was much more than I could have hoped for. More than Don or Bill could have hoped for! I had questions, but the three women had something else on their mind. I watched as the brown haired woman glided to the center of the room, stopping to stand by the chair. The pale skin woman followed, and I was so busy watching her that I didn't notice the other woman moving until she was close enough to touch me. I flinched as she reached out to me, her hand softly caressing my cheek. Her hand was warm and softer than anything I had ever felt, as if a cloud coalesced into the form of a human being. It was oddly calming as her warm fingers brushed through my hair. I found that I couldn't move as she leaned towards me. Now I've said all along that I'm not innocent, but there are many things I've never tried. Kissing another woman is one of those uncharted territories. I don't remember what was going through my mind as her lips touched mine, but I do remember the effect she had on me. Her lips were even softer than her hand and just as warm. It took a second for my brain to register the pillow-like sensation of her lips pressed against mine. I whimpered weakly as her tongue parted my lips and slipped into my mouth. She tasted like fresh strawberries and her tongue was smooth as velvet. My ghostly partner pulled back, smiling at me as her hands slid down to my waist. I could barely breathe as she tugged my t-shirt up, and I lifted my arms as if in a trance while she pulled it over my head. Knowing she was a ghost eclipsed the fact that it was a woman undressing me. She slid her arms around me, and her body was warm and soothing as she unsnapped my bra, gently pulling it from my shoulders and dropping it to the floor. Ghost Seekers - The Three Ladies I should have found it embarrassing, standing with my breasts exposed to the room, but I was too fascinated by what was happening to me. She looked down at my feet and then smiled at me. I understood what she wanted, and kicked off my shoes. I felt her warm hands slide along the waist of my jeans and the button slip from its loops. The dark haired beauty leaned forward and kissed me again as she pushed down on my jeans, sliding them and my panties down my legs. I was finally devoid of my clothing, as naked as the spectral beauties that surrounded me. The woman pulled away, then took me by the hand and guided me toward the middle of the room. I felt awkward as I watched her float gracefully in front of me. I knew where she was taking me and fear began to rise inside my chest. She drew me closer to the chair, with its infernal straps and sinister design. I didn't resist her, I couldn't resist her, but she sensed my hesitation. She turned and as she continued to walk, her free hand rising to stroke my cheek. Her touch was calming, and I knew that these spirits meant me no harm. I felt no ill will from the women, but still felt uncertain about the chair. What would they do? Did they understand that my physical body might not be able to endure whatever phantasmal game they wished to play? Perhaps this was what the doctor did to them. Had they spent the rest of their lives and now deaths bound by what happened in this room? I wanted to speak but I couldn't. I had lost control over my own body. The tanned skinned beauty turned me and guided me into the chair, goose bumps forming on my skin as my naked body touched the cool leather. The two other women stood on either side of me, and I watched in a daze as they reached out and began stroking me with their soft hands. They chased the chill away as their warm hands caressed my skin. My mouth opened in a silent moan as they cupped my breasts, rolling my stiffening nipples between their fingers. The two ghosts at my sides continued to explore my body while the other lifted my legs into the stirrups, pulling them wide and exposing my now-dripping vagina. This was beyond anything I had ever experienced or hoped for. So much was happening that I couldn't think straight. I tried to regain my focus, but the hot breath of the dark skinned beauty playing over my exposed pussy caused me to swoon. The soft fingers of the Sapphic specter spread my sticky pussylips. My breath caught in my throat as her warm tongue licked at my delicate pink folds, and my vaginal sheathe contracted, forcing milk from my excited hole. Only a couple of my ex-boyfriends came close to being good at oral sex, but none as good as the raven-haired woman who was masterfully manipulating my girl-flesh. I didn't know whether it was the awareness of a woman or that of a ghost, but she knew exactly what to do. I shuddered as two fingers slid deep into my throbbing tunnel, and felt my pussy milk ooze down to pool in the iris of my ass. My two other companions were each focusing on my breasts. They stroked and squeezed my tender orbs while applying an ever-increasing pressure to my nipples. The force they were using on my nipples bordered on painful, but it blended with the pleasure I was feeling and the heat rolling through my body. My ghostly seducers quickly brought me to the brink of orgasm. As if sensing my impending climax, the dark skinned beauty withdrew her fingers, causing me to shake at the sudden emptiness in my heated vagina. I thought she was teasing me, but I soon found out that until now this had only been foreplay. I looked down just as she leveled the thick metal cylinder with my lubricated and waiting pussy. I felt feverish, unable to recall her taking the cylinder from me. A part of me wanted to scream. There was no way my little slit could accommodate such a weapon, but an equal part of me couldn't wait to try. I watched as the ghost pressed the head of the cylinder between my lips, and felt it start to stretch my opening. I couldn't stop her and I couldn't scream as I felt the pressure begin to build. I would surely tear if she continued to force the tube into my tight pussy. Maybe this was a punishment for having disturbed them? My eyes widened in a brief moment of panic, but grew even wider as I felt the cylinder begin to slide into me. The tight opening of my tunnel stretched in defeat, and I felt the warmth of the hard shaft slowly sink into my body. Time seemed to hold still as the heavy tube forced apart the walls of my pussy. No cock or dildo had ever filled me so. She kept pressing until the blunt head pressed firmly against my cervix, my cuntal shaft filled. My pussy felt bloated and ready to burst, the sensation almost overwhelming me. I felt some relief when she began to withdraw the tube, but she only pulled it out an inch or so before sliding it back in. The woman began slowly fucking me with the cylinder, slowly sliding the tube back and forth in my tight hole. My muscles eventually adjusted to the large invader, and my lover began increasing the depth of her strokes. I could soon feel the entirety of the smooth tube sliding sensually into my moist cunt. The steel shaft pumped into my vagina as if we were both part of some machine. My pussy cream flowed freely, the rod churning it into a frothy butter that oozed out from my stretched vaginal lips. I could see my lower abdomen bulge every time the thick shaft filled me and didn't know how much more I could take. My body was burning up and sweating so much that I closed my eyes to shield them from the stinging droplets that flowed down my face. The muscles in my legs and stomach began to tighten, and I could feel my orgasm approaching. I prayed the dark skinned woman wouldn't stop. The women at my sides bent over me, and I felt their mouths close over my tormented nipples. They suckled my aching nubs, their hot tongues swabbing over the sensitive skin. Oddly, that was the moment I realized something. Their mouths were warm, but also dry. It was the same way when the other woman kissed me. She was soft and warm, but the moisture of the kiss came from me. It was a strange time to think of such a thing, but I quickly pushed it from my thoughts. I felt the mouth of the dark-skinned woman close on my solid clitoris. Her tongue circled over my swollen flesh and then she began sucking. It felt as if she were drawing my orgasm from me as the sensations in my stomach built to a climactic pitch. My body shook as I climaxed, my clit providing the focal point for all the energy. I gasped for air as the walls of my pussy rhythmically gripped the steel shaft, sliding up and down its smooth surface. This continued until I felt I would die if they didn't stop, but I was still unable to protest. The convulsions wracking my body were bordering on pain and I felt myself slipping into unconsciousness. I couldn't have been out for long and woke to hands softly brushing my face. I opened my eyes to see the two women staring down at me with obvious looks of concern in their eyes. I tried to tell them that I was all right, but to my frustration still wasn't able to talk. The dark skinned woman was still kneeling between my legs, and she rubbed one of my thighs as she slid the until-now forgotten steel cylinder from my sore but satisfied pussy. I felt empty more than anything once the cylinder made its exit, and felt a rush of contained milk pour from my gaping slit. The dark skinned woman surprised me by leaning forward and pressing her mouth to my well-fucked hole. The warm heat of her mouth was soothing and I soon realized that she was diligently collecting my copious sex juices. I watched mutely as the two other women left my side and joined their companion. They sat on either side of her, and I watched as she turned to each and kissed them, sharing the cream she had licked from my pussy. After the thorough fucking I received, I could not believe it, but my clit was pulsing and stiff. Still unable to move, I watched the three ghosts as they shared the results of our Sapphic encounter. Once satisfied, they rose from the floor and stood before me. It was then that I discovered that I could finally move again. "Thank you." I said, not knowing what else to do. What do you say to a group of spirits who took you on a sexual adventure and gave you the most intense orgasm of your life? The women nodded to me and smiled, so I guess I said the right thing. The dark skinned woman knelt down and picked up the cylinder, and to my surprise, brought it to me. She sat it in my hand and gently closed my fingers around it. Was she giving me the dildo as a gift? I began to speak but she silenced me with a finger to my lips. She pointed across the room to a large padded table before slowly backing away. "Do you want me to sit on the table?" I asked, unsure about what she wanted. The ghost shook her head, and to my dismay began to vanish. "Is there something in the table?" I asked frantically. Now I could see through the three women. The last thing I saw before they disappeared was a smile and a nod, leaving me to think over what had happened. I finally slipped from the bench, fully aware of my nudity, and that Bill or another team member might come back at any time. After dressing, I decided to return the steel rod to its bracket, but the bracket was gone. I searched the entire wall before I gave up, now sure the women intended for me to keep it. I searched the table the ghost had pointed to but couldn't find anything out of the ordinary. I was about to give up when one of the metal studs that adorned the corners slid inward as my finger passed over it. I quickly circled the table, pressing all the studs and pushing in the ones that I could. When I pushed the final stud, I heard a click and saw a small drawer slide open on one side. The drawer held three books, and I couldn't believe what they were. Each was a diary kept by one of the women. From what I quickly read, the historians were only half correct. The women did offer sexual services to the upper class of New Orleans, but only to the upper-class women! The women were all immigrants the good doctor had abducted under the pretense of hiring them as housekeepers. Once in his house, they became slaves to his sexual experiments. He kept them chained and gagged in the attic, and they would have stayed so except for his failure to diagnose his own medical problems. During a vigorous session in which he was buggering one of the women, he clutched his chest and died. It took the women hours before they could get the keys from his dead body and free themselves. They were poor immigrants but not ignorant, and though free they had no place to go. They searched the house and found the doctors safe. Luckily he didn't believe in banks and had amassed a considerable sum of money. They disposed of his body under cover of the night, letting it sink into the swamp where the alligators surely claimed it. The women hid the money and returned to the attic. The police needed to see them as victims if they were to escape any questions. The plan worked without a problem. The police believed the doctor fled for some unknown reason, and the empty safe gave weight to the theory. The city of New Orleans was working hard to shake its reputation as a haven for the disreputable, so the local constabulary kept the entire affair out of the public eye. The three women were free to go, but the experience with the fiendish doctor bound them tighter than sisters. The doctor had unintentionally imbued them with a mistrust of men, and his kinky experiments had awoken an appreciation of the female body in each of them. Even if they were so inclined, they had nothing to attract a husband but their supple bodies. Men would want them, but never as a wife. The plan came to them easily, and they used some of the doctors' money to buy a small house. The women prostituted themselves, but only to other women. Husbands sought them out to watch their wives with another woman. One day, they caught word the city was selling the doctor's house. They felt oddly tied to the house, and bought it for less than half of the money the doctor had left. From there, they set about turning it into a secret and exclusive brothel, using the doctors' furniture and devices for the ultimate of lesbian pleasures. This was more than an account of what the women endured. The books contained the names of clients and, if married, their husbands. Some were famous and a few were politicians. I couldn't believe it. The ghostly experience was far beyond my dreams, and I now had historical evidence of what occurred in the house. This was amazing, but I soon realized my problem. The cameras were not working so I had no evidence of ghostly activity, but considering the nature of the activity, I was somewhat happy about it. I slipped the steel cylinder into my purse as I knew it was a personal gift from the three ghosts. The diaries were different. The diaries would let the world know about these women, who were true pioneers in their own rights. "How's it going Kim?" Came Don's from my walkie-talkie. I had forgotten about the show. "I'm fine, but I found something you have to see," I said, "I will bring it down." "Great, let's wrap it up for the evening. The cameras in the attic didn't come back online so we will have to work with the audio." Don explained. It was a relief but a disappointment as well. The biggest find in paranormal research and we didn't have any evidence. It had been a fantastic evening for me, but wasn't what the show needed. I brought the diaries down to the doctor and the rest of the team. I gave them a brief and innocent version of my meeting with the three spirits. I explained how the spirits guided me to the table and how I found the diaries. Everyone seemed excessively concerned for my well-being, but I explained that I was not only well, but excited. "Doctor James, you said the physical harassment by the ghosts ended after a month or so, but you've heard them since then?" I asked. "Yes, about a month." He replied, his head turning with curiosity. "Did you start doing anything different then?" "I had only moved to New Orleans when I bought the house. I think I saw my first patient around the end of that first month." He said. "Can I ask what for?" I asked. "I work at University Hospital. I counsel women who have been victims of abuse." He explained. Now it made perfect sense to everyone. The three women had been hostile toward him until they found out about his work. Maybe he helped ease the suffering they felt at the hands of their tormentor. Doctor James agreed to let the show use the diaries. He also told us he would be contacting the New Orleans museum of history and sharing the diaries with the community. I think the three spirits would like that. Breaking down the equipment proved to be as long a task as setting it up, and we didn't finish until almost five in the morning. The team went out to breakfast before heading back to the hotel. I collapsed in my bed, exhausted and ready to sleep for days. Unfortunately, I needed to be up by two that afternoon to help review the audio and video footage of our investigation. Dreams of my encounter with the three ghostly women filled my sleep, and my thighs were sticky from excitement when a knock on the door woke me. "Hey Kim, you awake yet?" It was Don calling from the other side of the door. I quickly glanced at the clock and found that it had just turned noon. Why was he waking me so early? "Yeah, hold on a moment." I told him as I slide on my jeans, the fabric sticking to my thighs and reminding me of my dreams. I rubbed my eyes as I opened the door, where and not only Don was waiting, but Bill as well. "Can we come in?" Don asked, sounding anxious. "Sure." The guys sat down at the table in the corner of my room, and that's when I noticed the laptop Bill was carrying. He sat it on the table and flipped it open before looking nervously at Don. "Okay, what's up?" I asked, beginning to wonder what was going on. I had checked the handheld camcorder before leaving the attic. The unit had sat facing the wall throughout my entire time with the three ghosts, and I could only hear the occasional faint sounds of my wet pussy. I was sure they wouldn't be able to determine the source of the sound, could they? "Well, we need to tell you something." Bill said. "But first, I hope you realize how much the show and what we do means to all of us." "Sure." "We haven't been able to get much solid evidence during our investigations. We've had plenty of personal experiences and some proof, but nothing concrete." Don said as if Bill wasn't talking fast enough. "Right, so why are you telling me this?" I asked. "Doctor James had four female assistants leave the house because of very specific experiences." Don explained. "We not only picked you because of your paranormal encounter, but because you're a woman." "The cameras were not displaying on the monitors, but the recorders picked up what happened during your investigation." Bill blurted out. I didn't know what to say. The cameras had worked. I hadn't been too concerned about it the night before, but now found it quite distressing during the daytime hours. I could only stand and watch as Bill clicked a button on the laptop, which began playing the four video feeds from the attic. The clear video of the three ghosts seducing me left me stunned, and my pussy throbbed at the sight of the ghosts taking pleasure from my body. "It glitches out in a few spots for some reason, but most of your experience is here. We do understand why you didn't tell us everything." Don explained. "So, you set me up?" I asked. "We didn't know this would happen, but we thought the ghosts might respond to another woman. The doctor has heard noises but has never had a visual encounter like his assistants." Don continued. "So what does this mean?" I asked, still trying to sort all of it out in my mind. "What does it mean? It means we have real proof of a haunting!" Bill said excitedly, his hands waving in the air. "We have proof if you allow us to use the footage. We don't need all the footage, just up to when they...stripped you." Don explained, his face reddening. "No one else has seen the recording?" I asked. "No, just us. We started reviewing the footage early," Don explained. What could I say? We had video proof of not only one ghost, but three. The show could end without the use of this footage. "Let's use it, but only until when they get...frisky." I said finally. "I can't begin to imagine what my parents would say if they saw the full thing." "Great. Now we need to talk to you about some future cases." Don said. "What about them?" I asked, feeling there was something special about these investigations. "We've been reviewing our new cases as well as some previous ones. There are a few that may benefit from a female investigator," Bill explained. "You mean there might be some horny ghosts?" I asked, understanding what they were really saying. "I wouldn't put it like that, but there is the possibility," Don said. It took me a few minutes to think about it. I've already said that I'm no prude, and the meeting with the three ghosts still had my pussy wet. From the smile on my face, the guys knew what my answer was before I said it. Maybe we could eventually change the name of the show to 'Ghostfuckers'.