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Debbie's natural curiosity was made more firm by her unwillingness to accept that her mother had lied to her. Other than the fact that she and Robby had played at the Nettleton Manor for years, and that they were sexually involved with each other, were bit secrets. But those were the only secrets Debbie had from her mother. She couldn't understand how her mother could be this other woman, and that Debbie had never been able to see even a glimpse of tht woman.

"Mom?" began Debbie tentatively.'

"Hmmmm?" responded Ramona, her mind still on what had just happened.

"Tell me about your boyfriends." said Debbie.

Ramona turned and looked at her daughter. "Whatever do you mean? I don't have any boyfriends."

Debbie pushed the fresh sprout of her anger down and tried to be patient. "I mean when you were my age." she clarified.

Ramona knew her daughter well enough to see that she was uncomfortable ... distant somehow. They had always been loving and close. Was Debbie interested in a boy? That might explain her behavior recently ... her fits of anger. And, even though Debbie's recent outbursts had seemed to be tied to the Nettleton mansion, Ramona knew that ... hormones ... could intrude into life in the most unlikely ways.

"Are you interested in a boy?" she asked her daughter.

Debbie's first instinct was to deny that with a laugh. There were boys who interested her, but not as boyfriend material. She wasn't driven by hormones to seek males. She was quite satisfied with what she and her brother did in that way. But still, boys were ... interesting. And if saying she was interested in a boy would get her mother talking, then fine.

"Sort of." she said vaguely. "I've never had a real boyfriend."

Ramona sighed. Life at this stage of growing up was so hard. She hated the thought of her daughter going through what she had gone through as a girl. But she knew it had to happen. She hoped it didn't have to happen in quite the same way it had to her. It never occurred to her that her son and daughter might have the same kind of relationship she had had with HER brother. THAT relationship had been born of the kind of pain and loneliness that her children had never had to face.

"Well, sweetheart, I'm not sure I'll be much help to you. I didn't have many boyfriends until I met your father." she said.

"Tell me about them." urged Debbie.

Ramona sat down at the table, where her unfinished plate of food still sat. She took a sip of her tea, but left the food alone.

"Golly," she said, her eyes going unfocused. "There isn't all that much to tell. There was a boy named George, when I was twelve. He was nice to me and I kind of thought of him as a boyfriend. We couldn't date or anything like that, of course."

"How about when you were older ... my age?" asked Debbie.

Ramona didn't know how to answer that question. Her "boyfriend" then had been Robert. Her guardian hadn't allowed her to date, and boys didn't come to visit at the house where the waifs lived. There had been boys who showed interest in her, but the whispers of girls her age told her that all they wanted was what she and Robert did in the dark of night, and she wasn't interested in doing that with anyone except Robert. What she had with her brother was precious and special.

But she couldn't tell her daughter about THAT!

"I guess I didn't really have a boyfriend until I went to college and met your father." she said.

The anger swelled again in the pit of Debbie's gut. Another lie.

"No other boy kissed you until you met Daddy?" she asked, her voice tight.

There was a slippery slope here for Ramona. Another boy HAD kissed her, and done a lot more than that before she met Richard. But that boy was Robert, and she couldn't tell her daughter about THAT. She avoided the question by asking one of her own.

"Has a boy tried to kiss you?"

"You didn't answer my question Mom." continued Debbie. "Why won't you answer my question?"

Ramona's reaction to her daughter's interrogation was one of fear. Had someone in the community been telling her children stories of Ramona's past? There were still a few people around who had lived in Nettleton and might have known Ramona when she was a ward. She hadn't worried about them because she had tried to be so invisible before she went to college. And, when she came back to Nettleton with a husband and a baby in her womb, she had thought people would forget her past. Only the oldest people in town might remember that she was the sad little Nettleton girl who changed her name. Was it possible that the renovation of the mansion had brought out old dusty memories ... and idle chatter about the past?

"Who have you been talking to?" she asked.

Now it was Debbie who had to be careful. Any information she divulged about what she now knew about her mother had to appear to have come from some source that couldn't be questioned.

"Nobody" she said tersely. "It's just that everybody has a boyfriend. Everybody has a first kiss. It's just how things happen. I just wanted to know what that was like for you."

Ramona thought about what kind of emotions Debbie might be feeling at her age. She didn't have a good frame of reference to think about that, because her own childhood had been anything but normal. Still, she knew how it felt to be in love ... to want a man's touch ... to want to do things with a man, even if that man had been her brother when she was Debbie's age.

"Sit down, Darling." she said, pointing to a chair.

Debbie hesitated, but then sat.

"Sweetheart, a girl at your age has feelings that are very strong sometimes. It's normal for her to be curious about boys and what it would be like to ... kiss them. That seems like a long time ago, when I felt those things. The mother in me wants to tell you not to kiss the boys. But I know that's not realistic. I guess what I really want you to understand is that it's tempting to do things with boys just because of feelings you have, but it's important not to go too far unless you have real love. Does that make sense?"

Debbie's reaction to that was mixed. What her mother was saying sounded like what any mother would say. But, knowing what her mother had just done, only an hour before, it had to mean that her mother ... loved ... mister Smith, and that didn't make any sense at all. A new thought bloomed in Debbie's mind. She didn't remember her father, because she had just been a toddler when he was killed. And, while she didn't remember any men in her home life, there had been a period of a few years when, if there WERE a man in the house, she might not have remembered it. Could mister Smith be a man her mother fell in love with AFTER her father was killed?

In typical teenage fashion, instead of answering her mother's question, she blurted out her own.

"Mom, did you have a boyfriend after Daddy died?"

Ramona stared at her daughter. This was a conversation that seemed ... odd somehow. Her parental radar began to have blips on the screen that were disturbing.

"No, Darling." she said. She strained to find the right words. "Things were very difficult for me when your father died. I wasn't ... well. It took a long time to get as back to being normal as I could. I didn't feel that ... seeking male companionship ... was something that would make my life ... our lives ... better."

Ramona saw something like disappointment cross her daughter's face. This was very odd. On impulse she spoke.

"Debbie, why are you asking me all these questions. Do you have a boyfriend? Has he tried to do something that makes you uncomfortable? What's going on?"

Their roles had been somewhat reversed. Initially, Debbie had thought she might pry some information out of her mother that would answer some questions about the man next door. If he was an old boyfriend, what she and her brother had seen would make a lot more sense. Now, however, she heard that tone in her mother's voice that meant SHE was the one being interrogated, and that her mother wanted to pry information out of HER.

Still, other than the fact that her mother did not seem to want to confess to what had gone on in the past with mister Smith ... what was STILL going on with him ... her mother's responses had been what Debbie would have expected ... caring responses that any loving mother might have given. The questions Debbie wanted answers to concerned mister Smith. Something in Debbie had begun to recognize that her and her brother's childhood play-place was gone now, never to return. Now this unbelievable relationship her mother had with Smith had pushed itself into her uppermost mind. She itched to make sense of it, and she took the risk of further questions.

"It's just that you seem so interested in mister Smith." she hazarded. "I mean what with him being a stranger and all, and I know about the bank and all that stuff, but it just seems like ... I don't know ... like you look at him sort of like I look at boys at school."

Debbie held her breath, waiting to see what her mother would say ... or do.

It was a pivotal point in the relationship between mother and daughter. At this point, Debbie knew her mother had lied to her at least twice, and that was something she couldn't understand. She also knew that her mother must love this stranger from somewhere in her past that she wasn't willing to talk about, and she couldn't understand that either. Had her mother laughed, or pshawed the idea that Smith might mean something to her, it might have created a rift between mother and daughter that could have lasted a lifetime.

But Ramona didn't laugh. She was seized by feelings of fear of her daughter finding out secrets that were better off left buried. At the same time she had to acknowledge that her daughter's instincts about this were astonishingly accurate, considering her age. Had she known that her children had spied on her, everything would have been different. She harbored some kind of insane hope in her heart that she and Robert might be able, somehow, to recapture the happiness of their youth together, now that he was back. She felt no guilt about what they had done since his return, but she was fully aware of the pitfalls involved in that forbidden relationship. If she could just tell her children who he was, they would simply assume that the ... feelings ... they saw, and which Debbie had just voiced seeing, were only the natural love of sister for brother.

But could she trust them to be discreet? Robert still had things to do before he took off his disguise in public, or at least until he appeared publicly as Robert Ellsworth Nettleton. Ramona was wracked with doubt. But she saw real questions in her daughter's eyes, and that was important too.

Now it was Ramona who took a risk.

"Sweetheart, there are things about mister Smith you don't know."

Ramona saw light bloom in her daughter's eyes, an obvious interest that shouted that this was something Debbie wanted very badly to know about. Debbie unconsciously leaned forward, toward her mother.

"But ... I can't tell you everything just yet."

The light dimmed in Debbie's eyes, and Ramona saw that too. She went on hurriedly.

"It's not because I don't WANT to tell you. It's complicated. There are legal issues over at the mansion and, until those are resolved, it's very important that no one learn some things about him that could cause him problems."

Debbie clutched at the little part of the secret that her mother had shared.

"OK, I understand that, but why would you be interested in him? As a man, I mean?" Debbie pushed her luck even further. "It's like you knew him in the past or something."

Ramona became wary. "Is this what all those questions about boyfriends were all about?" she asked shrewdly.

Debbie's eyes widened. Her mother was pretty sharp. "Well ... yeah ... I guess so ... sort of."

Ramona didn't know what to say. She knew if she just put her daughter off that it wouldn't work. That much was obvious from her previous behavior.

"Let me say this. I already told you I knew him in the past. And, when I knew him then I liked him. He didn't have that beard then. But he's not my boyfriend." Ramona looked at her daughter to gauge the response.

Debbie was now confused. Her mother obviously liked mister Smith a LOT more than she was admitting to. But what confused Debbie was her mother's unwillingness to admit that. She got an idea.

"Is he married or something?" she asked.

Ramona shook her head. "No, he's not married. But people would be ... upset if they thought we were as close as a boyfriend and girlfriend."

"Why?" asked Debbie.

"That's something I can't talk about." said Ramona, unable to come up with anything else. "You'll understand in a few weeks. I promise you that. You'll understand everything in a few weeks. OK?"

Debbie's curiosity had been both soothed, to a tiny degree, and inflamed, to a large degree. She couldn't imagine why her mother had to wait to tell her just who this man really was. But she knew she'd gotten as much out of her mother as was likely, so she nodded. Then she felt compelled, for some reason, to hug her mother. She got up and bent over to embrace her.

"I love you Mommy." she said into her mother's hair.

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‘So this is it,’ I thought. I stood in the moonless night, pensively staring up at the so-called haunted house. Even after all these years, it was still an impressive structure. Built in the late Eighteen Nineties, thefour-story house still had all the hallmarks of a great home. Detailed woodwork adorned thelarge covered entrance and marched its way across the brick façade, while large multi-panedwindows offered views of the outside. They were strategically placed and stood ready to...

2 years ago
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Haunted Coeds

Different stories about spirits and ghosts messing with people. A haunted house, a ouija board ritual, a wayward soul, a perverted office ghost, and more. There are many stories to tell, and they all start here. Feel free to add!

1 year ago
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Haunted

I am Amy Palmer and I'm 24 years old. I have a slim build with pale skin and a firey, orange curly mess of hair thanks to my Scottish heritage. And I have a rather odd problem. I'm not sure when exactly it started, but it's been happening more often recently. I'm being haunted. Not just in my house, whatever it is, it follows me. It isn't like a normal ghost story you may have heard of. No, this one seems to enjoy ripping my clothes in public to cause me to flash people, it'll wait until I'm in...

1 year ago
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Haunted A Halloween Drabble

Haunted, a Halloween Drabble. I heard her, whispering in my bedroom. "You promised!" "I can't" "It's Time!" Again and again, I heard her. "Please?" Finally, I give in, and go to the trunk, and put on the dress, the makeup, the wig. I look in the mirror, and I don't see a boy. I see her. "Finally!" she says. "Finally," I agree. "We're free!" We speak as one. We are one. Forever.

4 years ago
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Haunted mansion

It was a cold Halloween night. April was standing in front of the abandoned mansion at the very end of the neighborhood. It had stood there since she was a child. The city had apparently torn it down one time and it showed up again the very next day. The owner clearly didn’t like company as it was miles away from anyone else. She used to go inside it all the time growing up and nothing bad ever happened, but there’s been stories of strange things occurring here on Halloween, ranging from lights...

2 years ago
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Haunted Mansion Adventure

You and your friends are investigating a haunted mansion. You have been locked in for the night. There are three boys and three girls. If you split up by gender, turn to page 2 If you split up in couples, turn to page 4 If you go your own way, turn to page 8 If we split up we will definitely split up in couples. So I guess I'll turn to page 4. There doesn't seem to be any reason to split any other way. You draw lots to see who pairs up with whom. You get Jason, a tall hunk. There is...

3 years ago
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Haunted

The bus rolled into my hometown around dinnertime. I was wide awake, but I had been still for hours. When the bus driver finally parked, I felt like I was waking from a dream. In many ways, I was. It had been ten years since I had visited my little hometown in the dusty South. So much had happened, but my town looked exactly the same. I grabbed my bag and exited the bus. There was a crowd of cars waiting, but I didn’t recognize any of them. It wasn’t like my brother to be late. Then I...

2 years ago
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Haunted HouseChapter 1

Orange-red leaves clung to tree branches as they fluttered in the wind, the brown ones falling victim to strong gusts. In a few weeks the trees would be bare, like skeletons, but right now they added the color of autumn to the countryside. The howling October wind rattled the mansion's heavy, warped door. It had just slammed shut, causing the little gray squirrel to jump and turn in mid-air. With bushy tail raised, its little feet scampered down the dirt path to the safety of the trees, its...

3 years ago
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Haunted HouseChapter 3

The next morning it was Nick who was the last to rise. When he found the others in the kitchen he walked directly to Sandy, a huge "shit-ass" grin on his face. Leaning in for a kiss, her slap caught him by surprise and his head jerked back. Rubbing his cheek, he asked, "What was that for?" "For last night." "Last night? You seemed to enjoy last night." "You asshole. You think I'd enjoy having someone rape me? You're lucky nothing happened." "Rape you? Nothing happened? You...

4 years ago
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Haunted MansionChapter 1

"Why are we walking up here?" Brandon whined, as the six teens scampered up the steep stone steps that led up to the decrepit old mansion that lay on the edge of town. Brittany turned back to him, pivoting, like the cheerleader she was, on one foot. "Because of all the rumors that it's haunted, god, why else. Brad, talk to your brother." Spinning back around, Brandon thought he could see her panties as her pleated skirt swirled. She skipped a couple steps and caught up with her best...

2 years ago
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Haunted MansionChapter 7

Laying awake in my room on the third night, I recapped the highlights of the evening in my head, while laying naked on my bed, ever so slowly stroking my cock. Natalie had really appreciated me bringing her the sandwiches. I ended up staying in the room with her for over five hours, just talking. By the end of the night, we were actually best friends, rather than it feeling like it. She was the sweetest girl, years ahead of her maturity. That was before age regression, as she now looked...

3 years ago
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Haunted by the PastChapter 5

Charles Richards stayed the rest of Saturday with his wife Diana in her hospital room. He left for a few minutes to make a phone call in the lobby. He contacted an executive at the movie studio to make sure they notified her boss in Hawaii. Charles was not about to let her go back to that office. He also asked the studio executive if they would make arrangements with her boss to have their offices moved somewhere else on the lot ... somewhere with better security. The executive assured him...

3 years ago
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Haunted by the PastChapter 7

Lynda Curtis had realized the night she almost took advantage of her best friend's husband that she had to let go of her feelings for Charles Richards. She didn't want to ruin her friendship with Diana. A little over a week later, they had let her know that she was forgiven. Diana had even made that crazy offer to let her kiss and touch Charles ... as long as Diana got to watch! There was no way she could ever do that ... Lynda still found Charles sexy as hell! And it was hard to try to...

3 years ago
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HauntedChapter 2

Sandy handed me a tape cartridge. I put it in the deck and watched Mel, our little next door weasel getting it on with a voluptuous blonde in the middle of his living room. They talked for awhile, typical escort conversation, trying to loosen up the John. After a long and sensuous lap dance with him staying in his wheelchair, she sucked his cock. Leading her into his bedroom, he pulled himself onto his bed, not letting his fake paralyzed legs help. Then she straddled him, but he obviously...

2 years ago
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HauntedChapter 4

"How's Sandy?" asked Jock the Joke while the group of interviewers and I settled into our seats in the interrogation room. "Great," I said. "I could make her better," said the sleazebag with his patented sleazy smile. I thought of a million retorts but kept them to myself. Sweets and Joke sat with a man I didn't know. He had the conservative suit look of a Fed. I wondered who hid behind the glass, hoping for Nakamoto and fearing my dad's old friend Lieutenant Sam Kamalua. As the...

2 years ago
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Haunted by the Futa GhostChapter 2 Naughty Naked Selfies

My eyes widened at the sight of Mitsuko-hime standing naked in the onsen, steam rising around her breasts, droplets of water glistening on her curves and her brown nipples like diamonds turned into nectar. Her skin was pale, milky, so fair and perfect. Her hair was a black curtain pilling around her shoulders. Her eyes looked up, meeting mine. I trembled before the daimyo’s daughter. I had seen her from afar, but never up so close. What was she doing in the onsen? Didn’t her father’s castle...

2 years ago
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Haunted by the Futa GhostChapter 4 Taken by the Demonrsquos Tentacles

The beat of the drum summoned me to the stage before the statue of our shrine’s guardian, Kanshu-no-Kami. I was dressed in my miko garb, my red hakama about my legs and cinched tight at my waist, my haori over my kimono, the tasseled ends swaying before me, dangling with bells that tinkled with my every movement. I gripped my gohei in my hand, a wand of cedar wood from which dangle two shide, paper folded to form a zigzag chain of diamonds. The shide fluttered as I turned on the tatami mats...

2 years ago
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Haunted by the Futa GhostChapter 6 Banging My GenderSwapped Girlfriend

“You danced so beautifully in my dreams again,” my Ojo-sama cooed in the steamy waters of the onsen. “You awakened such hungers in me, Sayuri-chan.” I blushed as I stood in the onsen’s hot waters, my breasts rising and falling with the beat of my heart. We stood so close, our nipples almost touching, both hard. My pussy itched with the hungers shining in her eyes. “Thank you, Mitsuko-hime.” Her hand stroked my cheek. She cupped my face and pulled me closer. My heart beat faster and faster...

1 year ago
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Haunted by the Futa GhostChapter 8 Ghostly Futa SixtyNine

I rubbed the polish carefully into the statue of Kanshu-no-Kami, the mighty kami wrestling the dread yokai Yokubo-no-Tako and keeping him imprisoned. I shuddered as I reached one of the octopus-like tentacles wrapped about Kanshu’s leg. The artist who had sculpted the statute caught the features perfectly. But so long as I danced the Kagura on every equinox, Kanshu would keep the yokai trapped, protecting our province. Behind me, the slap of my father’s feet echoed through the shrine. He...

2 years ago
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Haunted by the Futa GhostChapter 9 Futanari Fucks Her Bully

“Will this work?” my Ojo-sama asked, hugging me from behind. Her damp hair brushed my neck. She still wore it loose after our bath. Our love-making. “I do not know, Mitsuko-hime,” I whispered. “But I have to try. Tonight is the half-moon. The transition.” It was the last half-moon of Summer. The next would fall on the Autumn Equinox, and that night I had to perform the Kagura and help Kanshu-no-Kami keep the yokai imprisoned beneath the shrine. And not long after that, Mitsuko-hime would...

3 years ago
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Haunted by the Futa GhostChapter 15 Futa Ghostrsquos Naughty Exorcism

“No,” I cried out in grief and regret. “No, Ojo-sama!” Tears fell from my eyes as shame overwhelmed me. I had failed her. I stared up at her beautiful form of Mitsuko-hime dangling from the branch of the pine tree, swaying in the breeze that groaned through the cursed woods. Her eyes bulged. Her white-painted face smeared by her tears. Her sandal had fallen off. I grasped her sock-clad foot. Slime soaked her sock, covered my hand. I jumped back, gaining my feet. Shadows writhed around her...

4 years ago
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Haunted by the Futa Ghost 12 Fucking the Futa Ghost

Chapter Twelve: Fucking the Futa Ghost By mypenname3000 Copyright 2017 My joyful night had turned to ash. Hangetsu, the great Kami of change and transformation, took an entire cycle of the moon to remake me. So I wasn't there at the shrine to dance the Kagura and bolster Kanshu-no-Kami in his endless battle to keep the dread yokai Yokubō-no-Tako imprisoned. It was my most important duty as the miko of the shrine. My father was dead, and the yokai had escaped, possessing Daimyo Tōdō...

1 year ago
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Haunted by the Futa Ghost 14 Futa Ghosts Naughty Memories

Chapter Fourteen: Futa Ghost's Naughty Memories By mypenname3000 Copyright 2017 My blood-soaked shide hissed down at the yokai-possessed Daimyo. Blood streamed from his face, wounded by my first exorcism attempt. Mitsuko-hime, my lovely Ōjo-sama, screamed in terror, not understanding what I was doing, and threw herself over her father. I had a moment of frozen time, Mitsuko-hime staring up at me, tears streaking the white makeup coating her face. She looked like a crying doll. I had to...

2 years ago
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Haunted by the Futa Ghost 13 Possessed by the Futa Ghost

Chapter Thirteen: Possessed by the Futa Ghost By mypenname3000 Copyright 2017 I gripped my gohei as I thrust my hand at the rice paper door. The roars of Mitsuko's possessed father resounded through it. Shadows moved. A woman moaned, the same throaty sounds that I had brought forth from my Ōjo-sama during our time at the onsen. The sounds of pleasure. Of orgasms. “You must free him,” Mitsuko-hime begged. “Please, Sayuri-chan.” “I will,” I told her, trembling. So much had...

4 years ago
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Haunted by the Futa Ghost 11 Slimed by the Tentacle Monster

Chapter Eleven: Slimed by the Tentacle Monster By mypenname3000 Copyright 2017 I was energized as I raced down the path lit by the half-full moon. Transformed. Changed. Futanari. I did it. I made contact with the great Kami Hangetsu, a deity both male and female, changing back and forth with the cycle of the moon. But when it was half-full, the Kami was both. And now so I was I. I had a dick. My clit turned into a hard, throbbing cock. My Ōjo-sama would be so impressed. I promised...

2 years ago
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Haunted by the Futa Ghost 1 Virgin Taken by the Futa Ghost

Chapter One: Virgin Taken by the Futa Ghost By mypenname3000 Copyright 2016 I ran through the dark forest, branches reaching for my long hair, my heart hammering in my chest. This place was cursed. Yokai and Onryō stalked between the tangle of trees and maze of roots bursting out of the broken, folded ground. “Mitsuko-hime,” I called, my words swallowed by the dark trees. “Please, Mitsuko-hime, don't do this. I'm sorry.” Everything had gone so wrong today. It was supposed to be...

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