The boat coasted along side the small pier, its engine sputtering to a stop.  A light drizzle splattered against the rotting deck and over Neve Campbell's plastic poncho.

        "Nice vacation spot," observed Neve sarcastically, hefting one of her satchels over her right shoulder, a second bag in her left hand as she hopped from the boat's open deck to the pier's.

        "You wanted to get away from the world for a weekend, you can't get any further away than this place.  You'll have complete privacy, there's only one person taking care of the grounds,"
said Neve's agent's assistant.

        "You gonna help me with my stuff?" demanded Neve sharply.

        "Sorry, we have to get back to the mainland before the storm gets worse.  See ya Monday!" grinned the assistant, waving cheerfully while the boat revved up and swung away from the creaking pier.

        "Asshole," muttered Neve, hefting her satchel bags and stomping off the pier onto the trail that led to the small island's manor.  Neve marched through a small forest, the sound of rain echoing through the trees as droplets fell on numerous leaves and bits of undergrowth.  Neve's breath steamed in front of her face, the temperature was dropping swiftly.  Stopping briefly to wipe rain off her face, Neve followed the narrow trail until she left the forest and reached a small, gently sloping hillside.  At the top of the hill sat an immense brown manor house, three floors, with all of the windows dark.

        "I thought there was a caretaker," murmured Neve, climbing up the hill to the waiting manor.

        Neve ascended a short flight of steps to the manor's covered porch.  She pulled back her poncho's hood and shook the moisture from her short black hair.

        "Better be someone here," growled Neve, punching the doorbell with her right index finger.

        Neve waited for several minutes, tapping her right sneaker, shivering from the growing cold and wet.  The front door unlocked, the portal swung shrilly open.

        "Yes?" demanded a harsh, elderly voice.

        "I'm Neve Campbell, I'm scheduled to stay here this weekend," offered Neve politely, her teeth chattering.

        "I remember," replied the voice.  "You shouldn't stay here."

        "My ride's gone, I'm stuck here," explained Neve.  "Can I please come in?  I'm freezing out here!"

        "I told them not to send anyone else," muttered the elderly voice, the door widening for Neve to enter.

        Neve walked into the foyer gratefully, turning to see who the caretaker was.  The caretaker was the most wrinkled woman Neve had ever seen.  Wisps of grey hair stuck out of the woman's scalp in patches, she stood hunched over nearly double, leaning on a short, gnarled, wood cane.  The old woman closed and locked the door before facing Neve.

        "I have a room for you.  Are you hungry?"

        "Very," nodded Neve.

        "Follow me, please," said the woman, walking slowly towards a winding spiral staircase.

        Neve walked after the old woman, enjoying the house's warmth.  Pictures covered the foyer's walls, beautiful portraits of young women in frilly, wide skirts.  Slowly, the two women reached the second floor landing.  The old woman shambled down a candle-lit hallway that was decorated with more portraits, these portraying raven-haired men with harsh faces and stiff postures.  The elderly caretaker unlocked the farthest door to the right of the hall, she offered the key to Neve.

        "I'll fix you something to eat.  Would you like it in your room or in the dining room?"

        "The dining room will be fine," smiled Neve, deciding to spare the old woman another long climb to her bedroom.

        The old woman nodded, leaving Neve alone in her bedroom, closing the door silently.

        Neve dropped her bags onto the thick carpet.  She sat heavily on the edge of her bed, looked around at the antique furnishings.

        "This is going to be an exciting weekend," smirked Neve.
*****
 

        The storm had picked up when Neve went downstairs to eat supper.  Thunder shook the windows, the patter of rain intensified.

        Neve sat at the head of a long dinner table, two racks of candles providing illumination within the wood-paneled room.  The old woman had cooked Neve a strip of well-done sirloin, peas, potatoes, and made a bowl of salad.  A bottle of wine sat next to an empty crystal glass.

        "Please leave the dishes when you're done, I'll clean everything up later," said the old woman from the dining room doorway.  "I bid you good-night."

        "Good-night, and thank you!" grinned Neve.

        Neve ate ravenously, finishing everything the old woman had made for her.  Warm and with a full belly, Neve leaned back in her comfortable chair, sipping wine from her glass.

        "This place probably doesn't have a TV," mused Neve, refilling her glass before rising from her high-backed chair and leaving the dining room.  Taking occasional sips of sweet wine, Neve explored the first floor of the manor, making note of the kitchen, the entry foyer, a hallway to the right of the foyer, and a study that was adjacent to the dining room, just off the foyer.

        Neve entered the study, windows to the left looking out into the dark front lawn.  Lightning flashed, illuminating the otherwise dark room.

        "No light switch," observed Neve, leaving the room, then returning with one of the candle racks from the dining room.

        The young woman set the candle stand on the clear top of the desk that sat next to a cold fireplace set into the far wall.  Neve noticed that there was wood and kindling already placed in the fireplace, she picked up the candle stand and lit the kindling with one of the dancing flames, the wood immediately catching.  Welcome warmth filled the study, the firelight flickering across the spines of dozens of books lining the study's wall shelves.

        Neve examined the books after replacing the candle stand on the desktop.  Drinking more wine, Neve was astonished to find titles like "The Summoning and Control of Devils", "Sacrifices to the Dark Lords", and "The Power of Sex Magic".  Neve backed away from the books, an undescribable feeling of fear squeezing her heart.  Moving to another shelf, Neve found a series of journals.  She removed the last one, opened the leather cover.  Neve found handwriting inside the journal, elegant and precise.  She sat down in a stuffed leather chair near the fireplace, sipped from her glass, and began reading...
 

October 11th, 1865
 
        I have to work faster!  Despite the remote location of my home, I fear that my neighbors know of my work and will try to stop me.  The disappearance of the Roland girl gave me away, but I have no choice, I don't have the time to hunt farther afield.  All the preparations are made, soon I will summon a demon from Hell, and all of my enemies will be destroyed!

October 12th

        I've completed the purification ritual, bathed my sacrifice in holy oils.  She is compliant, the drugs I've given her are working perfectly.  She is such a lovely child, I confess that I probed her sex with my fingers, licked her sweet nectar.  I didn't couple with her though!  She must be untouched when my demon comes to claim her as his price for service.

October 13th

        It's almost time!  Those fools who live on the mainland have invaded my island, they pound on the front doors now, trying to violate the sanctity of my house!  I'm in the purification room right now, writing by candlelight.  I can hear the sacrifice moaning in her chains, she senses that the time is almost at hand, she yearns for it as much as I!
 

        Neve looked up from the book, her pulse racing.  She licked dry lips, drained the last of her wine.  The October 13th entry was the last one in the journal.  Neve flipped forward, to a spot near the middle...
 

August 9th, 1865

        This scarlet-haired lass is a strong one!  I've whipped her for three nights, adorning her pale flesh with lovely welts.  Her screams have been music to my tortured soul, the stench of her fear and sweat more lovely than the most fragrant flower.  I took her from behind while she hung from her chains, I raped her moist, pink blossom while she begged for me to stop.  The ecstasy filled my senses, the touch of her dripping flesh was divine!
 

        Neve slammed the journal shut, panting for air.  She squirmed in her chair, her panties soaked and sticky over her crotch.

        Neve left the soft chair's embrace, replaced the journal with the others on the shelf.  The fire was dying, Neve snatched the candle rack and practically fled from the study, lightning snapping outside.

        After washing and changing into clean panties, Neve crawled into her massive four poster bed dressed in a thin white sleeping gown.  She pulled up the heavy blankets, snuggling beneath them as the rain slapped against her bedroom window.  Neve closed her eyes, waiting for sleep to claim her.

        The bedroom became very warm.  Neve threw off the blankets, rolled onto her back.  Feather light hands stroked Neve's face, ran down her graceful neck.

        Neve squeezed her eyes shut, her mouth open and slack.

        The girl felt the light fingers cup her breasts, fondling, caressing.

        Neve moaned, rolled onto her right side.

        A hand slithered up Neve's gown, rubbed her ass.  The hand stroked her closed thighs, ran down her slim legs to her bare feet.

        Neve sat up, her eyes wide.

        A black-cloaked ghost hovered over Neve's bed, burning red eyes boring into Neve's.  The ghost smiled, baring long, razor-sharp fangs.  Unruly black hair flowed down the back of the ghost's head.

        "Mine!" hissed the ghost, extending a long, slimy, black tongue.  Howling wildly, the ghost shot up into the ceiling, wisps of smoke curling above the bed's dark canopy.

        Neve clutched the bed's blankets to her chin, shaking with terror at what she had seen.
*****
 

        "You saw the shade of Frederick Jacobson," said the old woman, setting a plate of eggs and buttered toast in front of Neve.

        "Are those his journals in the study?" inquired Neve, drinking from a glass of orange juice.

        "You read them?"

        Just one, the last one," blushed Neve, lowering her eyes to her plate.

        "Yes, those are his journals.  He was a satanist, a practitioner of dark magic.  He kidnaped  twenty girls over ten years, raped them upstairs with those obscene devices, killed them in an attempt to raise a demon from Hell.  Some farmers who lived nearby on the mainland finally took him and hanged him here on this island, in front of this house, after he kidnaped and murdered one of the farmer's young daughters."

        "That's terrible," whispered Neve before taking a bite of toast.

        "That's why I warned you not to stay here, his spirit still lingers, hungering for young female flesh."

        "Why do you stay here?"

        "I'm old and wrinkled, Frederick leaves me alone.  Besides, no one else will hire me, here I have food and shelter as long as I take care of the manor."

        "Who pays you to.."

        "You should finish your breakfast before it gets cold.  The rain's stopped," observed the old woman, leaving Neve to her meal in the dining room.

        Neve ate her eggs, wondering what she should do today.  She felt an odd, almost perverse desire to go upstairs to the room where Frederick tortured and raped his victims.  The thought of those chains, those manacles locked around her wrists, made Neve very horny for some inexplicable reason.

        Shaking her head, Neve finished her eggs and juice before leaving the dining room and walking outside onto the porch.
*****
 

        The grass was still slick with rainwater as Neve walked across the front lawn to the edge of the hilltop, gazing down at the tree line that fenced in the manor hill.  Neve narrowed her light brown eyes, wrinkled her pert nose in concentration.  Something dangled a short distance into the woods, on one of the lower branches of a thin pine.  Neve slid down the hillside, entering the woods and approaching the dangling object.  She looked up at the swaying thing, a frayed piece of hemp rope.  A long line dangled down one side of the branch, the other end of the rope ended in a wide noose stained with dark blood.

        Neve covered her mouth with her hands, eyes wide with disbelief.

        "Mine," whispered a soft, compelling male voice.

        Neve looked around for the speaker, dreading to see the black-cloaked form that had hung over her bed the previous night.

        The slack noose swayed faster, then bolted forward, wrapping around Neve's wrists and cinching tight around them.

        Neve screamed as she was yanked into the air, slamming stomach first into the tree trunk.
She dangled by her trapped wrists, legs kicking, arms threatening to pop from their sockets.  Neve rolled onto her back, looking down almost ten feet to the ground below.

        Invisible hands roved over Neve's blouse, touching her stomach and breasts.

        "Stop it!  Don't touch me!" shouted Neve, her blouse blowing open.

        The ghostly hands opened the front clasp of her pink lace bra, pulled the garment from her heaving tits.

        "No!" protested Neve, tears welling in her eyes as her invisible tormentor squeezed and pinched her breasts, tweaking her brown nipples.

        "You will come to me," whispered the ghost's voice into Neve's right ear.  A phantasmal tongue slithered over Neve's right cheek, leaving it numb with cold.

        The rope slackened, Neve fell heavily onto the needle-strewn ground.  Shivering violently, Neve covered her breasts with her unbuttoned blouse, lips trembling, tears falling down her pale cheeks.
*****

        "You don't even have a fucking phone!" screamed Neve.

        "No, there isn't any electricity for a phone," replied the old woman calmly.

        "I have to get out of here!  I'm sick of this shit hole!" snapped Neve, taking a long drag on a cigarette.

        "I'll start dinner, it's getting dark," offered the old woman.

        "I'm not hungry!" retorted Neve.  "You got anything to drink?"
 

        Neve sat at the dining room table, bathed in candlelight, a cigarette smoldering in her right hand.  She grasped an open wine bottle with a shaking left arm, placed the mouth upon her lips and drank deeply, gulping the rich wine down.  Slamming the bottle back onto the table, Neve took another long drag from her cigarette, then tapped the ash into a small glass tray provided by the old woman before she went to bed.

        The ticking of the grandfather clock in the foyer soothed Neve's strained nerves.  She slowly leaned back into her chair, the wine coursing through her body, the taste of tobacco on her lips.  The music of clinking chains filled Neve's mind, she could feel the leather over her breasts, against her bare pussy.  Neve slid her left hand into her jeans, began rubbing her cunt over her panties.  Neve tasted her sweat on her lips, her skin was flushed and hot, her back throbbed from the welts adorning her bound body.

        "You like this, don't you slut?" asked a grave-faced man with slicked back black hair, his grey lips curled into a contemptuous smile.

        "Yes," moaned Neve, her face dripping with perspiration, her pussy shivering, moist with her aroused juices.

        "You want more?" asked Frederick, stroking Neve's bare right nipple with his slick whip.

        "Yes," gasped Neve, tugging on her manacled wrists, her hips swaying seductively.

        "Such a lovely whore," chuckled Frederick, yanking back on Neve's short, black hair, covering her moaning mouth with his cold, hungry lips.

        Neve woke up, pulled her hand out of her jeans.  She groaned disgustedly at herself, her panties were soaking wet again, clinging to her quivering pussy.  Neve looked at her left hand, watched her cunt juices drip down her fingers onto her knuckles and across her smooth palm.  Tentatively, not realizing what she was doing, Neve brought her wet hand to her lips, inhaled the musky scent of her own pussy.  She slowly opened her mouth, licked the sweet liquid from her slender fingers.  Moaning with pleasure, Neve placed her fingers into her mouth, sucked every drop of honey from them.  Eyes dreamy and heavy, lips flavored with her own cum, Neve looked up at the ceiling, her heart thumping beneath her breast from the call of Frederick's torture room.
*****
 

        Neve hesitantly pushed in the heavy wood door.  The portal squealed on unoiled hinges, opening into complete darkness.  The air was dank and foul, the trapped miasma of decades.  Neve thrust the candle rack clasped in her left hand into the darkness, the weak light revealing a rack, several pairs of chains dangling from the ceiling and the walls, and two oak wardrobes facing each other on opposite walls at the far side of the room.

        Neve cautiously entered the torture room, breathing quickly, licking dry, quivering lips.  She spotted several scorched torches resting in iron sconces, she applied candle flame to them and they burst to life, crackling loudly, emitting streams of thick, black smoke that burned Neve's nostrils.  Setting the candle stand on top of the horizontal rack, Neve walked toward the wardrobes, the rank air of the room closing in on her, smothering her.

        Neve went to the wardrobe on the left first, reaching out to pull the doors open.  She gazed in amazement at the collection of whips, crops, and harnesses that hung in the wardrobe's interior.
On the floor of the wardrobe were small cases of wooden dildos of various sizes and open, sharp- edged rings.  Mischievously, Neve picked up a medium-sized dildo, licked up its length, and kissed the tip.  Discarding the dildo, Neve went to the other wardrobe, pulled the doors open.

        Neve's breath quickened when she saw the leather corsets, collars, and leashes that filled the wardrobe.  She pulled off her white sleeping gown, removed her fresh panties.  Naked, Neve grasped a leather gag that hung from one of the doors.  She rubbed the leather against her right cheek, licked it with her tongue.  Skin warming, Neve took the gag from its hook, placed it over her left nipple.  Sighing with ecstasy, Neve rubbed the strip of leather over her breast, reaching down with her right hand to massage her aching cunt.

        Neve was leaning against the open wardrobe door, fingering herself, groaning with pleasure, when Frederick's ghost rose from the floor, opening his black-cloaked arms wide.

        "Mine," purred the ghost, wrapping his chilling arms around Neve's bare waist.

        Neve screamed, jerking away from the wardrobe and the hovering ghost.  She dropped the leather gag, covering her pussy and breasts as best she could when she saw the red-eyed ghost leering at her nude body.

        The ghost's arms stretched out, wrapped around Neve's arms.  Neve screamed for help, struggling in the ghost's embrace as he dragged her towards a pair of dangling chains.

        "Let me go!" shouted Neve, fighting the ghost's clammy hold.

        Frederick's shade held up Neve's arms by the wrists.  The chains flew towards Neve, the iron manacles snapped loudly around her thin wrists.  The chains withdrew toward the ceiling, yanking Neve's arms up, her toes barely touching the cold floor.

        "Please, stop this!" cried Neve, her heart racing, her breasts pumping.

        The ghost fastened a leather choker around Neve's neck.  A silver ring gleamed in the torch light, floating in front of Neve before it fastened itself to her left nipple, the sharp prongs piercing her flesh.

        Neve gasped, hanging by her wrists, fear sweat beading down her bare skin.

        The ghost's black-garbed arms engulfed Neve, its glowing blue hands caressed her tits and belly.

        "No," whimpered Neve, tears gleaming down her cheeks.

        The ghost lowered its right hand to Neve's pussy, began stroking her slit.

        Neve moaned, her dangling legs trembling, her thighs becoming warm while the ghost felt her cunt.  The ghost bent its head to Neve's right breast, licked her nipple with its long, glistening tongue.  Neve shivered from the cold touch, her nipple hardening as the ghost teased it again and again.

        "Please," gasped Neve, her pelvis shaking while the ghost massaged her cunt, made it wet with droplets of honey.

        The ghost released Neve.  She hung, catching her breath, her skin cooling from the fever of lust.

        The whip cracked loudly, biting into Neve's back.  She screamed, eyes wide from the unexpected pain.  The whip snapped over Neve again, this time licking her right buttock.  Neve groaned, twisting in her chains, writhing when the whip flicked over her skin over and over.  Soon Neve's back was marred with dozens of welts, her flesh was on fire, she could barely gasp for breath.  The chains turned, Neve was spun around to face her tormentor.  The ghost's face was twisted with hate, its fangs oozed with saliva.  The shade raised its right hand, cracking the long, black whip, leaving a small, throbbing bruise over Neve's left tit.  Neve threw back her head, groaned with each bite against her skin, her breasts quivering when the leather stroked across them, her stomach tightening when the lash cut over her flesh, leaving it red and burning.

        The ghost rained abuse on Neve without mercy, without pause.  The girl's naked body was a mass of glowing bruises and welts, it hung limply, like a piece of meat, from the unyielding manacles.

        The ghost fluttered up to Neve, opened her slack legs.  Neve pried open her brown eyes, her mouth shaking.  The shade raised up Neve's legs, rested them on its dark shoulders.

        "No," moaned Neve, watching helplessly as the ghost lowered its face to her pussy, opened its dripping mouth.

        Neve shivered when the ghost's cold lips touched her wet cunt.  The ghost nuzzled her pussy, licked the juices from her labia.  Neve gasped, biting her lower lip, sweat dripping down her face while the ghost sucked on her clit, probed her vagina with its long, sinuous tongue.

        "Please!" groaned Neve, her hips gyrating, her cunt rubbing against the ghost's questing mouth.

        The ghost grasped Neve's ass, fondled the tight slopes of flesh while it delved deep into the girl's pussy, drops of her nectar falling from her cunt to splash on the floor beneath her chained body.

        The ghost slipped it's long, black tongue up Neve's belly, between her tits, across her small chin.  It inserted its tongue into Neve's slack mouth, stroked Neve's own warm tongue.  Neve moaned, helplessly responding to the ghost, sucking on its tongue with her soft lips.  The ghost removed its tongue from Neve's mouth, snapped it around the girl's neck.  The tip of the ghost's binding tongue caressed Neve's left cheek as it revealed its massive, pulsating cock.

        Neve stared at the quivering pole of ghost cock, her pussy shuddering with anticipation, glistening with her excited juices.

        The ghost impaled Neve's pussy, driving its shaft deep into her vagina, smashing into her cervix.

        Neve screamed, arching her back, mouth open and gasping while the ghost thrust between her floating legs, slamming into her open cunt.

        The pain of the bruises covering Neve's body was forgotten, ecstasy beyond description pulsed in the girl's pussy, filled her shivering belly.  Neve moaned weakly, her chained body jerking from each stab into her cunt hole, juices gushing from her pussy, raining down onto the floor in an ever-widening puddle of cum.

        The ghost's climax threatened to tear Neve's body apart.  She clutched the chains binding her wrists, her open legs aching as the ghost exploded inside her, ectoplasm spewing out of her pussy to splash over her bare stomach and quivering thighs.

        Neve fell to the wet floor, her wrists freed.  The collar and nipple ring disappeared as if they had never been.  Neve hurt more than she could ever remember.  She brushed sticky strands of hair out of her perspiring face, slowed her labored breathing.  The stench of her own juices was strong in the room, she sat in a large puddle of her own cum.

        Moaning, Neve lay down in the puddle of her honey, she gathered it in her fingers and applied the slick nectar to her tits and stomach.  She rubbed her ass in the musky liquid, then started licking her soaked fingers, her pussy awakening, hungry for more of the ghost's unholy lust.

The End.