Her Ghostly Dom

Four

Reginald

When Katherine put her hand in his and told him she trusted him, his heart leaped for joy.

This time would be different. He knew it. It'd have to be. Things were progressing ahead of schedule. That had to be a promising sign.

He led his beauty down the dark passageway and into his secret chamber. There was barely enough light from the full moon to illuminate the space.

He hovered near the light switch, pausing before turning it on. He squeezed Katherine's hand, afraid that once she laid eyes on his special chamber, she would run away.

He took a breath, attempting to steady his nerves. This was it. No going back. He flicked on the switch, and light surrounded them.

He kept his eyes trained on Katherine's face as she took in the sight. Her eyes widened in shock as she glanced upon the various machinery, sexual devices, and erotic games waiting to be played.

"Oh my. I... what is all this?" She let go of his hand, much to his chagrin and walked about the space in awe and, dare he say, intrigue.

"My chamber," he said.

"A sex chamber!?"

He grimaced. "If that's what you wish to call it." He couldn't tell if she was outraged or merely shocked.

"What else would you call it? This is... this is...."

He watched her intently as she struggled to find the words to convey her emotions. His breath caught in his throat, and he could barely hear himself think over the sound of his thundering heartbeat.

If she rejected this, rejected him, he would be beyond disappointed. He would be absolutely devastated.

"I don't understand, Reginald. How is all this here? What the hell is going on? And why hasn't Mr. Branson mentioned you and... this?"

He sighed.

It was time for a bit of truth. This was always the hardest part.

"As I said before, Mr. Branson is well aware of my presence. We have an arrangement, actually."

"What sort of arrangement?"

"He convinces beautiful young women such as yourself to come here during Hallows Eve to spend midnight of October thirty-first until midnight November first so that I can meet them and convince them to... play."

A look of disgust came over her, and her eyes darted for the exit. He nearly panicked. She couldn't leave.

Not yet.

Not like this.

"I promise, it's consensual. I've never done anything with any woman who didn't wholeheartedly agree to play my games."

She expelled a frustrated breath and shook her head. "You and Giles trick women into coming here so you can dress like that and have some kinky Halloween fuck fest? And you expect me to believe these women are okay with this?"

"There have been some who were less than amused when I told them the truth. But there were others who stayed and played, anyway. I can be quite convincing, you see."

He did his best to lighten the mood and put her at ease, but she still appeared to have one foot out the door.

"What happened to the ones who left? Or are they buried in the courtyard?"

"I assure you, Katherine, no harm has come to any woman who has set foot here." Unless they begged for it. "And should you choose to leave right now, you'll get no argument from me."

She folded her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes. "Who are you? Really?"

"What I told you is true. My name is Reginald Eisenhower IV. This is my residence. My family's residence, to be precise. And tonight is the one-hundred and thirty-second anniversary of my death."

***

Katherine

All the blood rushed from her body at his words, leaving her cold.

Numb even.

His sinister revelation echoed in her mind, but she couldn't make it sound remotely believable. Had she really just full-on made out with a dead guy? Had she been turned on by a ghost?

This had to be a sick joke. It wasn't enough that they were standing in his creepy sex dungeon. He had to add some paranormal shit on top of that!

Kinky bastard.

Katherine had to wonder what was wrong with her. Why was she still standing here having this conversation with the man rather than running for her life and never looking back?

"Please, Katherine. Say something."

She blinked. Then blinked again.

Reginald was staring at her, and something about the look of concern on his face touched her deeply.

"So, um. What you're telling me is that you're a ghost? A horny ghost with a sex dungeon, and Giles is your pimp? Is that accurate?"

He turned up his face in disgust. "That is a crass depiction of what this is. I am a ghost, yes. That is true. Most of the time, I am in ethereal form. However, on one night of the year, All Hallows Eve, I am a flesh and blood man."

"And you spend that time having kinky sex with strangers?"

"What else does one do when forced to wander these halls for all eternity? When I was alive, I enjoyed sex. Craved it more than food or wine. Needed it more than air to breathe. It appears even in the endless purgatory in which I find myself, I can't purge myself of these dark, insatiable urges. So I made a deal with the proprietor to stay out of sight all year and not to bother any tenants he wished to occupy the home, so long as he could find me a woman to fulfill my waking desire and fantasies."

"Why not just lead with that? Have Giles explain the situation rather than tricking women and blindsiding them?"

"If he had told you that there was a ghost here who wants to tie you up and do ungodly things to you, would you have shown up here?"

"Absolutely not."

"Precisely. It's a dance. A game we all must play to get the intended result. Once the woman is here and meets me, we can explore our mutual attraction and see where it may lead. I like my women willing and able, not scared shitless."

"Fair enough."

"So where does that leave us, Katherine? You haven't run away, which I am grateful for, but you haven't mentioned wanting to take things further."

"I'm just trying to process this. It's a lot."

"I understand. If it would make you feel more comfortable, why don't we move this conversation to a less oppressive room? I could fix you a cup of tea, perhaps. Would that help relax you?"

Katherine considered it.

She considered everything. It was all too insane to be real, and yet somehow, it all made perfect sense. From his otherworldly presence to his antiquated mannerisms, it was like he stepped out of a painting and collided with her world.

As she looked at him, she was flooded with the memory of the heated kisses they shared. She had a longing for something hot and sweet but it sure in the hell wasn't tea.

"I've got another idea. Show me what you're working with, Reggie."