Lewd Ghost Stories (Patreon)
Content
Three AM, the most spooky of all spooky times... was not the current time at all, as the trains didn't run at 3 AM. No, it was, in fact, the very last train of the day, which MIchiko had gotten on. It was no accident, as she had not been running late after work or anything like that, she was in fact currently on holiday visiting her parents, and had heard from an old friend on her hometown about the spooky scary story surrounding the midnight train.
They called it the Night Train to The Underworld, around these parts, and almost everyone refused to ever get on a specific carriage after eleven pm. Michiko herself thought it absolutely hilarious.
She had been a superstitious and cowardly country girl before, but ever since she began attending college, forming connections, getting new friends and working in the bigger cities, she had started to see her life back in her smaller, more rural hometown as quaint and had even begun to question many of their superstitions.
Not that she had ever grown to dislike or hate it, if anything, she found it charming and adorable, especially during holidays when she could get away from the hustle, bustle and unending struggle of the big city and back to the middle of nowhere where it seemed like the days stretched on forever, the cicadas never shut the hell up not even to let her have an afternoon nap, and her childhood friends had started the process of taking over their aging parents as the workforce.
Just because she found some of her own former superstitions funny in hindsight didn't mean she disliked the people who still believed in them, and in fact, that was the very reason why she had been waiting at this station since eleven PM and got on the train ten minutes after that, as soon as it arrived.
She also carefully counted the carriages to make sure she got on the right one. Most of the others had larger numbers of passengers, but the one she got on was actually rather empty.
The rumors must've spread across the towns that had stations for this trainline, she imagined, it was the most logical explanation all things considered... and she was here because she was a logical, calm and thoughtful individual. She ran her hands along the long sleeves of her cardigan. It was a little chilly. That was why she was trembling.
Another of her hands fidgeted with the tips of her bangs, moving them aside so they didn't fall over her eyes. She hadn't had an opportunity to get a haircut and her auburn hair was a little bit on the longer side, reaching her lower back now. The cream cardigan made it stand out even more, and she somewhat regretted the choice of a skirt, or at least, she should've worn thicker stockings or even tights, as her black thigh highs were meant for looks and not for actually keeping her warm.
She took in a deep breath and looked around herself. There was an older gentleman, sat on an otherwise empty seat, his face stuck in a big newspaper, who looked to be wearing a business suit of some sort.
Opposite him sat an older woman, knitting from a ball of yarn, who had introduced herself as Granny Yoko and had shared tea from her thermos with Michiko, warming her up some despite the cold, and next to her, a younger man, whom she introduced as her grandson, reading a manga that was sleeved, most likely the volume had a cover best not shown off in public.
On the other end of the carriage there were a pair of older men near their sixties, chatting quietly with each other, and opposite them, a younger woman, about thirties, with a very serious and severe appearance, but she was engrossed in the book she was reading and her ears were visibly plugged with earbuds.
All in all... nothing was off. It was a little cold, and there was a chill wind running down the carriage despite the sealed windows, but everything seemed fine... She nodded to herself and rubbed her arms some more, the train was moving quite smoothly despite the aged condition of both the carriages themselves, and the rails they were riding on. It was strange, almost like they were gliding and not really touching the rails.
Despite the cold, she found herself relaxing on her own seat. Relaxing so much in fact, that she actually caught herself dozing off, and as she did, she shook her head, bringing her hands to her cheeks and rubbing them slightly, doing the same to her eyes to try to rub the sleep off. She stood up and stretched a little, everyone else seemed caught up in their own worlds.
Nothing was strange, nothing was happening, nothing was off at all... this was just a regular train, and her scaredy cat-
Something brushed past her, against her, like a whisper of the wind. It wasn't an unfamiliar feeling, she had a big butt, large breasts and the general demeanor of someone who wouldn't make a fuzz, she was no stranger to being molested on crowded trains and almost exclusively rode the female-only carriage because of it, but-
But as she gasped and blushed, turning behind her to catch the pervert in the act, there was no one there. In fact, not only was there no one there, everyone else didn't seem to notice any movement until she turned around, only briefly turning to her with empty, bland stares before returning to what they were doing.
She scrunched up her face and looked around. That definitely didn't feel like wind, that definitely felt like someone's touch, but maybe she was just getting a little paranoid due to her previous bad experiences on trains before this one. She shook her head, and dismissed it as her sleepy mind playing tricks on her, making the wind feel solid for a moment there. She was about to turn back to get on her seat, mid-turn in fact, when she felt something brush past her chest, and this time she turned around instantly, only to see her hair fluttering in front of her face from the wind that had just run past her.
Right.
It was just the wind.
Just the wind... She shook her head and tried to concentrate. She was getting paranoid unnecessarily, the train was empty, molesters would never try something like this in full view of everyone, when there was no one to cover for them. Suddenly and for the first time, the train experienced rocky movement, jumping slightly, almost causing her to trip, but she threw her hand up and caught one of the hanging grips with it, and then her left joined her right on another, stabilizing her, catching herself leaning forward, her butt sticking out and her chest hanging-
Only to feel a sting of pain on her butt as if she had suddenly been smacked. "Wha-" she caught her voice before it slipped out at a high volume, letting out only a small peep that was ignored.
There was no one there, she looked back behind herself, there was no one there to smack her ass. So why did it feel like something smacked her ass? Wind didn't work like that, unless it carried something? But no, there was nothing around her either.
In fact... there was...
She blinked. There was no one around her. Had they gotten off at a station at some point? She didn't remember seeing anyone get off, in fact, she didn't remember stopping at all. The train cars were connected, maybe they had left this one for some reason?
She shivered in the cold and turned to her seat where her purse was resting, only to let out a curse, it was gone, maybe someone had stolen it? Everything she had on her was in it, and now she had nothing. So much for just proving a silly superstition wrong, maybe this was an elaborate scheme to trick people and rob them?
When she was about to let go of the hanging ring that was helping keep her stable, the train suddenly shook violently, and her hands actually went through the ring up to her wrist of both hands, she didn't think it'd be an issue until she tried to pull it out and found that it was too tight, too small, somehow her hand had gone through it, but it was too wide to pull out.
That was humiliating! She'd need to be rescued by someone now, and probably would need to pay for the damages too! And she'd gotten her phone and wallet stolen, all her cards and everything, could things even get worse?
Another smack to her bottom, and this time it was obvious there was nothing there, and though a strong wind had blown, all the windows and doors were sealed, there was nothing anywhere for her to see, no, rather, she couldn't see very far, it was like there was some sort of fog around her that was distorting her vision, could it be-
But wait, they said, the ghost was-
The smack returned, but this time, immediately after her butt was smacked, her chest was smacked also, and she let out a yelping cry as the pain registered, but even worse, she felt a tinge of pleasure to the pain. The rumors about the perverted ghost, could it be that they were true all along?!
No, that wasn't right, stuff like ghosts and such didn't exist, it was all myths and made up stories told by parents to frighten children, and village elders to frighten people, and, and-
The ghostly winds converged around her, and this time, they didn't just smack her and go, instead, she felt as they converged on her, through the fog clouding her mind, immaterial yet very real hands touching her all over, from her stocking-clad calves, rubbing up her legs into her thighs, hiking her skirt up as they went, revealing her purple panties with black lace, many hands wrapping around her crotch and butt and rubbing her all over, though the ghost didn't ignore her torso either, it felt like two hands crept up under the bottom of her cardigan and up her shirt at the same time, popping it off from under her skirt as they did, rubbing their cold, ghostly palms all over her torso, leaving her with a slick, slimy feeling all over her body until they grabbed onto her chest, over the bra that matched her panties.
She didn't know what had possessed her to wear this slightly lewd lingerie set, she had just thought the idea so silly that she decided she'd even wear these fancy underwear just so she could show off even more how little she feared such tales.
She even felt ghostly hands along her cheeks, both on her face, gentle and loving, and on her butt, cruel and harsh, spanking, smacking and grabbing onto her cheeks, now fully exposed thanks to the lewd panties she wore and their generous volume, especially once her skirt was hiked up until it was covering as much as a belt around her belly.
The hands touched her all over, some felt rough and calloused, with big, sausage-like fingers, some felt wrinkled and slim, some were adventurous and invasive, others were gentle and patient, but they all traveled all over her body, touching her all over, each and every one of them taking turns to rub the cleft of her lips through the fabric of her panties.
She panted, eyes watering up. This couldn't be right, she wasn't just getting molested in a train, she was getting molested by some sort of perverted ghost, and even worse, she was enjoying it. Everything felt fuzzy and distant but the sensations from her body were coming in clean and clear, she could feel everything, maybe even more than she ever did before, and to make matters worse, she had lost all strength, she couldn't even scream or anything, her voice was coming out in short gasps and pants that were more lewd than urgent.
Her arms, held up, felt like they were relaxing, as if the rings serving as shackles suddenly were being pulled down, as if the plastic slings holding them up from the car's ceiling were stretching, the ghostly hands pulled her along, doubling her over, holding her legs up despite how wobbly they were, holding her in place, her torso and head now held at nearly a 90 degree angle, while her butt was pulled back, her arms hung up, it was all so very strange and it felt odd but she couldn't bring herself to care.
Not even when her bra was pulled up, allowing her sizable breasts to spill free, the pride of her hometown, they'd been commented on and dreamed about by her classmates when she was a kid, now they were in the hands of a perverse ghost, that also had its hands all over her buttcheeks as it pulled her panties down, just enough to reveal her wet, juicy pussy.
Hands on her cheeks, a hand on her labia, rubbing along and past her lips, teasing her vagina, hands on both her breasts, fingers pinching and pulling her nipples, and a pair of hands on her head, one topside holding it in place, the other on her chin, fingers invading her mouth, playing with her tongue briefly, holding her mouth open as something bigger, something that tasted and smelled foul, invaded her mouth, and the stinging sensation triggered every pleasure center in her brain.
She didn't know, nor understand, nor cared to know or understand, what was happening to or around her, no, the only thing she cared about was simply getting more.
She gave up at this point, and didn't even think about it when she felt a familiar-shaped object invading her mouth at the same time as something pierced her from behind, spitroasting her from both ends, it just felt good, it felt fantastic, it felt amazing and she was feeling radiating pleasure from her pussy and from her mouth at the same time. She was getting violated, and she was loving every second of it, especially as the ghost's cocks began to move, at first synchronized, she was kept firmly locked in place as she was fucked from both ends, and it felt utterly, completely and totally wonderful.
The ghost's voice, it was legion, it felt like the gruntings and groaning and desperate panting of many men and women all over her, like the throes of those suffering in the underworld, deep, high pitched, strident and a smooth baritone, all over her, everywhere, she wasbeing bombarded by sexual feelings. She didn't know when her hands had been freed, but she did know that more ghostly penises appeared on them and ghostly hands moved her along, using her hands for pleasure, ethereal hands and tongues touched her all over as the ghost's motions hit a crescendo.
Tension within her was rising, it was already hard to think and becoming harder by the second, just like the ghost cocks inside her which felt like they were gouging her out and reshaping her insides to fit them, the cocks on her hands were twitching, leaving ghostly trails through the foggy air around her, she was getting further and further covered in the slimy, slick ectoplasmic fluids they were squirting all over.
She felt everything come to a head, all together, all at the same time, natural as it was just a single ghost all over her, as each and everyone of the invisible, ethereal cocks burst simultaneously, spraying glowing whitish-purple fluids all over her, fluids so unbelievably thick and sticky and so hot and so stinky that she couldn't help but cum alongside the ghost, as she had it poured all over her cunt, her ass, lower back and pussy, her sides, her mouth, throat, face, her hair, her arms, everything, even her chest somehow, all of her was covered in ectoplasmic cum.
She mewled in joyful, orgasmic bliss, closing her eyes.
"... miss..."
Something was coming into her cognition, something, the ghost, it was calling for her? Could it be?
"Miss..."
She was swimming in a sea of ghost cum and orgasms, and-
"Miss!"
And then her eyes were open, and she was on her seat, and someone dressed in the black outfit of a conductor, complete with gold details and the navy-like hat, was standing over her, a hand on her shoulder, looking down at her looking a little concerned. It was an older looking gentleman, and he had a wrinkled up face that had pronounced laugh lines.
"Wha, what happened," she moaned as she came to. "I, ghost-"
The conductor smiled at her. "There's no things such as ghosts, miss, you must've been having a bad dream," he said, helping her to her feet. "We've reached the last stop. Let me help you off," he said, and he did, indeed, help her get off of the currently empty train car.
"Oh, yeah, that, that makes sense," she said, nodding to herself. Obviously, that entire thing with the ghost couldn't have possibly been real, she must've dozed off on her seat and that was what happened, surely. She nodded to herself, stiffled a yawn and felt the telltale signs of a full bladder. "Excuse me, could you point me to the nearest vending machine and bathroom?"
Her throat felt more than a little sore as well, and for some reason, she had an intense urge to wash her hands. Her wrists were a little sore as well. She must've slept in a bad position.
"Of course miss," the conductor said, pointing her the right way to the nearest drink machine and towards the bathroom. MIchiko followed where he pointed, and took a step forward towards them. "I wish you safety on your way home, you were a wonderful passenger," the conductor said.
Michiko turned around to reply, "thank you for all your help, you-" but she cut herself off as she realized that... there was no one there.
There wasn't even a train there.
"Oh. Ohhh no, I'm starting to go crazy," she said, shaking her head. "I need to get back home and get some nice and long sleep," she muttered, but first... bathroom, exactly where she'd been pointed at. She tried not to think too hard about it, and went on with her life.
And if she ever visited the midnight train for another ride... well, that was between her, and the kindly old conductor.