Come Crashing In, Into My Little World - Velma reward story (Pixiv Fanbox)

"There's no such thing as a haunted house," was Velma's refrain well through the night. As the gang took refuge in the spooky manor to take refuse from the Mystery Machine's broken heating on that cold night, she remained insistent that things were fine. The old, abandoned house provided walls and some degree of sturdiness deep in its walls, the gang eventually settling on a room with a fireplace they were able to get roaring thanks to some still-dry logs waiting by its side. With sleeping bags rolled out and nerves ultimately sort of assuaged, the group were able to get to sleep no matter how foreboding and spooky the house was.

That was all well and good for most of the night, but Velma had been vitally wrong about haunted houses, and as the group slept, the skeptic made the perfect vessel for the strongest ghost haunting the manor. The ghost of a shameful daughter, a girl of ill repute who ashamed her family name with every lover she brought. A wanton whore in life, now a horny ghost in dead, and as the group slept, she was aware of two things: the well endowed boys, and the vulnerable young women.

Taking Velma's form over Daphne's was a simple matter of convenience and proximity. As Velma's eyes opened, she wasn't in control of anything, caught in a bizarre dream state. "A body," she said, staring down at her hands, rising up to her knees and slipping out of her sleeping bag. To touch the ample breasts and round hips of the body she now inhabited brought the ghost some satisfaction, a strange relief after decades of touch-starved agony. But it wasn’t enough.

She hastily moved her way toward the boys slumbering away. Fred and Shaggy lay in their sleeping bags, both deep asleep and both vulnerable. The ghost inhabiting Velma wasn't picky; she loved handsome men, but the strange, ill kept look of Shaggy reminded her of some of her more unsavory lovers. They were both men with cocks. That was what mattered most. Even still, she moved toward Fred first, undoing the zipper on his sleeping bag and reaching her hand down into his boxers to fumble around with his cock.

It hardened under her touch. Slow strokes started to work his cock to life, and Velma panted heavily. "It's been so long," she moaned, feeling the warm cock throbbing in her hand, a sensation lost to the vastness of time and how long she had waited for this exact moment. It was finally here. A man to touch. A cock to suck. The sleeping bag came open. she was about to pull his underwear down, never having seen such nonsense as it, but the jostling about made the weak button in his boxers slip out, and his unfurling cock swung out through it. That drew a louder gasp from Velma, inhabited by a spirit old enough for such underwear to be novel.

There was no time to waste on anything but getting what she wanted. Slipping into position between his legs, Velma gripped firmly onto his cock and sank her way down onto his lap, taking his dick into her mouth with a feverish, hopeless desire to seek out what she wanted most. The scent and the taste of a man's flesh lit up her senses, and Velma may have known exactly how to handle all of it, but for the ghost inside her, these were long-forgotten joys. Her tongue and nostrils took in all they could, the sloppy devotions beginning in wild earnest.

"I've missed cock so much," she moaned, these unrelenting, hazy wants pulling her into a state of strange fascination, a desire she wasn't particularly afraid of indulging in. The shaky, sloppy fascinations gripped her tightly, and she felt ready to give in to these grand wants, to clumsy pleasures demanding her fullest attention and making her feel nothing short of incredible. She had needs. Desperate, specific, hazy needs, and she was happy to indulge in them upon the sleeping friend of the girl she'd taken over, not caring about any consequences to these actions.

Fred remained deep in his slumber, eyes closed, head relaxed back. Occasionally he let out a quiet mumble, doing little to nothing about any of it in his slumber. There was no friction to what he was receiving, even ash is cock hit fill mast and stood proud before Velma. His endowment was something to be appreciated and admired, something women longed for, but it wasn't Velma who got to enjoy it now. Not really. Shamelessly she sucked it down, taking him into her mouth and embracing the deeper chaos, the frenzied passion and heat that could keep her working harder at these bizarre pleasures. It was something completely senseless and insatiable for the spirit.

Even the taste of pre-cum drove her wild. From fucking several men a day in life to years and years without cock in death, now inhabiting a chaste and ‘good’ girl, the spirit was reckless. Forcing Velma's untrained throat to take the cock down deeper, she threw herself into all these pleasures, into spectacular rushes of heat and want that left no time for restraint or calm. This wasn't the time to be decent, wasn't the time to calm herself. She had only one thing in mind, a desperate goal and a desire that she was certain of, growing more fitful by the second over what she felt here. The body wasn’t ready to suck this cock, but the mind was reckless, ravenous, throwing everything into a fit of pure fascination and greed. Readily, Velma treated Fred's cock to the maddest of devotions and desires, pushing harder and more stubbornly forward.

Nothing made Fred stir. Not even the throat struggling around his cock, the sloppy noises and expressions of heat that made clear something truly shameless. She kept pushing harder forward, finding it easier and easier to lose control with each push downward. The cock was ready for her, and she drooled al lover it, slobbered on the shaft in a desire to make things as messy and as ferocious as she could. After so long without, it felt like the only reasonable way forward, a path into chaos and hunger that wasn't letting up for a moment.

Slipping a hand down her panties, Velma shifted into a position with her ass up high in the hair, jamming fingers shamelessly into her twat while she sucked the cock. The excitement and vigor of throwing herself harder down made everything even more satisfying, a fixating mess of excitement and lust that held her tightly, that made her push harder onward. This body was so underloved. It was maddening; the sensitivity of every finger's caress helped make that clear, made her feel even more needy. This host was in desperate need of a good fuck, and wasn't getting it. Poor thing. Maybe possessing her was the moral thing to do after all, the only helpful way to properly get her to feel what she deserved and needed so sorely. It was all the more emboldening for her, pushing her harder onward.

Throbbing harder in her mouth, the cock warned of a steadily approaching release. Velma kept slobbering, her lips not letting go of his cock in her messy pursuit of these feelings. She refused to slow down, refused to hold back the delirium and commotion taking her. He was so close to cumming, and she was eager to pursue it. In the darkness of the mansion, dramatic shadows cast by the warming fire, Velma played to an audience of none, but she indulged no less intensely because of that. This was her time to indulge, and indulge the ghost did.

Fred may not have found much pleasure in it while he slept, but with each merciless push forward, the taste of cock and the satisfaction of that warm shaft throbbing in her throat drove the lustful spectre mad. She was simply happy to be sucking on it, to feel it dripping pre-cum and pleading for these releases. It was all she could think about, a dizzying rush of mind-bending desire that kept her completely lost, needing to give up harder, needing to explore her way into greater spectacle and frustration.

When he came, Velma pulled back. "Cum for me," she pleaded, eyes going cross as she gripped him with both hands, licking and stroking wildly to help milk every drop she could out of his balls. He came in her mouth and onto her face, streaking up along her glasses. Anything. Anything to get at what she needed, feeling the dizzy wants throbbing across her body, pulling her into the maddest state of desire and fascination. It was so much pleasure to lose herself to, and she felt utterly lost to the messiest of spectacles. Velma held tight and adored all of it, and once she finished wringing the cum out of his cock, she pulled back to enjoy it.

Slithering her tongue around in her mouth, she coated the insides with the sticky, cloying saltiness of a man's cum. Her hands ran along her face, smearing it, getting it all over her fingers and then licking them clean. "I love cum," she moaned, thighs rubbing together and body grinding against the air, moving in a motion solely to express raw sexual need. She was all wound up, savouring the taste of his cum and needing to explore deeper into this, and she was so happy to play around. "Fuck! It's so good. I've missed this so much." She took her fingers into her mouth and sucked on them.

Then, she went back, kissing his balls and licking up to his shaft, latching her lips around his head and trying to suck any last drops of semen from his hole. She was desperate for this,, and once she was sure he was done, now growing flaccid against her touch, she moved on to the other one.

Velma showed far less grace in moving on Shaggy. She pulled his sleeping bag down quicker and yanked his pants off, shamelessly seeking pleasure and seeking indulgence, and everything was simply in the way of that. As she freed his cock, she beheld an even bigger dick than the one she had just sucked, one that she buried her face into, slurping against it, gasping out things like, "Majestic," as she rubbed on his shaft and goaded him to full hardness. "A cock made to be worshipped!"

"Relma?"

The word caught her by surprise. Turning her head around, Velma noticed that the dog she'd been ignoring was now perked up, his head positioned up and his eyes settled onto the indecent sight. The ghost didn't know enough about Velma's life or memories to know her relation to this dog, or the dog's relation to anybody else. In the heat of the moment, that wasn't so much of an obstacle, though. Dogs. She'd fucked dogs sometimes. Depraved men with strange tastes wanted to see a pretty, rich girl fucking their animal before they fucked her. She was sure this vessel had never done it before, but maybe it was time she open her up to the idea.

So Velma pulled her panties aside and stuck her ass in the air. "You can play too if you stay quiet," she told him, fingers wrapping firmer around Shaggy's cock as she turned her head back toward it and focused on what mattered most: sucking him down into her mouth and pushing harder into all this wild madness.

Egged on by that first taste of cum and all the dizzy things it did to her, Velma scarfed down Shaggy's cock with even less patience or fanfare. Inducing a need within this body for cock, she was ready to simply push on harder, to throw herself into these weird feelings. This pleasure was all so deranged, but she was ready to turn this body into one of a wanton whore, just like her old body. And to help that along, ever so eager, came the dog stumbling up onto her and mounting her.

"Rokay," was all Scooby said as he pushed his cock into Velma, having no idea what she was doing with the sleeping Shaggy, but so ready to fuck her regardless, to plunder hard into the snug embrace of her waiting pussy and feel out these pleasures. Velma was tight and desperately slick, receptive as could be now to the pleasures that invited him in, and he wasted no time in hammering forward, getting more and more worked up by these greedy sweeps and spectacles. It was all too much to make sense of, messes of pleasure and fire and ferocity that kept him animated and energetic. There was no time for restraint now, the forceful vigor of his thrusts wearing at Velma's patience.

The feeling of a dick inside of her made her sucking all the more drastic. Velma moaned loudly around the shaft in the midst of her sloppy gagging and slurping. These pleasures hit her just right, evoking messy flares of passion and vigor that she was so happy to give in to, embracing her weirdest and most desperate of desires, a rush of pleasure she was all too happy to let rule her. This was a lot to handle at once, and she was all the more excited to give in to it thanks to the heavy-hanging warning overhead telling her that she could have opened herself up to even more. Shaggy's while cock vanished past her lips, and the fitful pressures she pushed on harder with became a stubborn exploration of pleasures too mad and deranged to be able to take.

This wasn't normal or sane, an overbearing rush of pleasures burning hotter and wronger through her body. The ceaseless passion kept her working back and forth with downright delirious ecstasy, a panic bubbling up to the surface without patience or mercy, and all she could do was keep riding it out. Bizarre fascinations held her tight, and she didn't care to try and resist these feelings a second longer than she had to.

Happy just to be here and to be throwing himself into this commotion, Scooby didn't have the slightest idea what he was doing or what any of it meant. All he could think about wasp ushing harder onward, deepening his appreciation for all these weird pleasures, trying to seek out an ending and a passion that kept this all growing weirder by the second. "Reels rood," he said. He shouldn't have been talking, but Velma didn't bother to pull back from his cock to say as much; she remained forward and motivated, sucking the cock down deeper, exploring her way into fascinations that didn't let up. She had everything she needed here, and she felt no reason to jeopardize that with any actions or concerns.

His thrusts were unstoppable though. His big, canine cock slammed into her pussy rougher, an that kept her sucking his sleeping owner off, gagging on his dick in a state of pure ecstasy. She drooled all over his shaft, threw herself into greater fascinations and wants, all in the name of racing toward orgasm. She wanted to make the most of this, wanted to completely consumed by these feelings, and nothing could stop her now. Velma kept sucking, kept appreciating, and for all of her trouble, she was soon rewarded with a hot load of everything she craved.

Shaggy's cock erupted without warning or care right into her mouth. She found herself happily receiving his mess without warning, the snoozing slacker doing nothing to warn her of it when he so suddenly came in her mouth, erupting hard and pumping shot after shot of sticky spunk forward. This was a dream come true now for Velma, her pussy contracting around Scooby's cock in turn, and to finish him off, Scooby was powerless to resist, being pulled down and doing something drastic because of it.

He drove his knot inside of her. It took everything he had to not make too much noise, his body heaving and shuddering about in absolutely baffled ecstasy. With his cock erupting and his canine spunk filling her, Velma's body succumbed to another orgasm right there, thrilled by the penetration of that knot into her hole, ready to give up to these feelings and completely unable to think right. She felt so good, felt so ready to give up, and she didn't really understand anything else as she pulled back and took in the weird, hazy sights around her.

"Keep this our secret, and you can fuck me again, okay?" Velma asked.

"Rokay." Scooby was happy to go along with that.

"Good boy." Velma held there a moment, impaled on his knot, so fucking happy to soak in these fascinations and joys before finally he started to pull back and disengage from her. "I like this body," she muttered to herself. "And these boys... And this dog. Maybe I'll stay a little while." She fixed up the boys' sleeping bags and their clothes, leaving their cocks glistening in spit, but that wasn't something she cared too much about. Then, she slipped into the sleeping back, wiped the cum off her face, and sank into a sleep of her own.

In the morning, Velma was none the wiser. The realm Velma awoke with no recollection of the night before and no idea why she felt a weird soreness between her legs, nor why her thighs were so sticky. There was a bizarre taste in her mouth, too. Oh well. She thought little of it, and as she looked around at the others, the first words out of her mouth were an unwitting joke on herself. "You see? No ghosts attacked us. Haunted houses aren't real, and we all made it to the morning." Cluelessly, Velma helped pack up, and the team took their leave, her body unwittingly harboring a new passenger with them.