Ghost Story Page 9

Rebecca flashes a brilliant smile at me. “And my own. I am your willing whore, Master.”

  12 - Blowing my mind

  I sit up and snatch her into my arms in alarm. “Rebecca you are not a whore!”

  Rebecca says, “Will, that is the way things are done. I know that from my initiation. I didn’t know you were a necromancer when I started feeding on you, but it’s the only reasonable explanation. I didn’t catch on at first because you just fed me energy to create my own body rather than creating a flesh golem or finding a zombie to push me into.”

  Okay...I’m confused as hell. “What are you talking about, Rebecca? I’m not a...a what? A necromancer? I’m just a guy. A standard, human male who is loving his girlfriend. Zombies? Golems? Did I bang your head on the headboard, baby?”

  I guess my confusion is evident on my face, and she suddenly looks confused, too. She says, “Will, it’s okay. I’m happy to be your whore. We’re not married, and I’m going to keep on opening my legs willingly to you. How could I not after that experience?” She closes her eyes and purrs.

  I squeeze her, “Let’s start with this business of you being a whore. A whore is someone that takes money for sex. You’ve not taken anything from me. You’ve been a loving friend who has gone out of her way to pleasure me when feeding you could have been an embarrassing or uncomfortable experience for us both.”

  She nods, “You didn’t pay me in money, Will. You paid me with your semen imbued with your power. I know that now. I don’t blame you for it. It made me feel empowered to create my own body. You were a friend from the beginning. You were generous to feed me, and I loved sucking your cock. I’m hopeful you will allow me to do it just for the pleasure of it. Plus, when I watched you make love to Marissa, I knew I wanted that from you. And now, my beautiful, loving Master, you have given me life and love and happiness. For that I will gladly be your whore.”

  I frown at her insistence that she’s a whore. “Rebecca, maybe this is a difference in language that has developed since you died. You used the word ‘slattern’ before. As I understand that word, it can mean a prostitute, or whore, or it can mean a promiscuous woman. Today we would say ‘slut’ instead, and it is generally used to imply promiscuity or wanton revelling in sensual pleasures.”

  She looks at me seriously, “Wanton was used for promiscuity. Slut meant whore.”

  I continue, “Whore also implies a lack of connection and disrespect. Yet you said you were ‘my whore.’ That means to me that you expect me to loan you out to other men to service them for money. That will not happen.”

  She smiles, “Good. I don’t want to service anyone but you, Will.” She pauses. “If Marissa wants to play, I would be okay with that. She’s so nice and so beautiful. And she is my friend. I did not know that was a possibility until I fed from her after you filled her up.”

  I smirk, “Just like I told her, I won’t try to stop you from having a girlfriend. I’m sure you would be better to Marissa than Carla is. Let’s drop the ‘whore’ label and stick with ‘girlfriend’ and ‘lover.’ You have no obligations to me.”

  She’s aghast, “But Will, you have to claim me and own me. If not, another necromancer could steal me and use me. I’d rather be dead than be the slave of another necromancer.”

  I cock an eyebrow at her. She adjusts her seat in my lap and wraps her legs and arms around me. I ask her, “So how common are necromancers?”

  She shrugs, “Not real common, but there are some around. My Aunt Judith was one. Power ran in my family. Aunt Judith taught me about necromancers during my initiation. She used to speak in hushed tones of awe when she would talk about the powers of the strongest necromancers.”

  “Baby, magic isn’t real. Sleight of hand is about as close as you can get,” I tell her.

  She looks at me and her beautiful brown eyes show specks of green. “Not true, William.” She looks seriously up into my eyes. She says, “I was a witch. I was an apprentice to Mrs. Leuvenfeld, who was a mistress of the craft. Basically, I was learning all of the medicinal properties of plants, learning how to use them to heal and harm, and how to imbue them with my power to enhance the natural effects of the plants.”

  I start to speak, but she places a finger on my lips. “I can see you don’t believe me, beloved Master. Please trust me on this. I get that it’s not known. We didn’t discuss our craft with anyone outside Mrs. Leuvenfeld’s circle. Her husband was a sorcerer. He taught me the basic information of his craft. Aunt Judith was known to the Leuvenfelds because we all went to synagogue together, and they were a circle - a small community of the magical crafts’ practitioners that support each other.” She pauses and kisses me gently. “Please don’t hate me for this, William. I would rather you killed me than hate me and live.”

  I look at her. She’s serious. She’s serious about all of it - preferring to die to being hated by me, the magic - all of it. I kiss her with my eyes wide open. “Rebecca, I could never hate you. You really are a pure soul. I love you.” I sigh realizing what I’ve just said. I’m in love with a resurrected ghost. “That is scary to admit after what Melanie did to me, but it’s true. I loved Melanie, but she betrayed me. I don’t hate her, but she hurt me badly. That’s why I don’t like to admit my feelings to any of my ladies. But I have just admitted them to you. I love you. I love Marissa. I love Audry. I could never hate any of you.”

  Rebecca smiles and gives me a wet passionate kiss. “I love you too, William James. I will need you to use me like the whor...um...slut that I am before you go to sleep, Master.”

  I chuckle, “If it please you, baby.”

  Rebecca grins and continues with her primer on magic. “There are five types of magical craft. They are Theocromancy, Thaumaturgy, Sorcery, Witchery, and Necromancy. I studied witchery, the craft of using herbs to impact the health of living humans and animals. It includes both healing and poisoning. I study the properties of plants, make tinctures, poultices, or teas and imbue them with my power to increase its effectiveness. Students of witchery may be either a ‘witch’ or a ‘healer.’ A ‘healer’ only focuses on plants to heal. If you have a problem with vermin like rats, fleas, or wife-beating husbands, you need a witch. I’m a witch, or I was a witch. I can’t feel my power. Maybe I lost it when I died. It’s okay if I did. I think I got a good trade because I now have you. Plus, I didn’t lose the knowledge, just the power.”

  She kisses me again. “Theocromancy is the craft of blessing or cursing an individual by strengthening or weakening a soul - the spiritual element of life. That craft was rare outside of the Roman Catholic church in my time. Theomancers are generally referred to as ‘priests.’ The theomancer in Mrs. Leuvenfeld’s circle was Monsignor Morgan at the local Catholic church. Not all priests are theomancers, but all theomancers are priests. Their power comes from their belief. Rabbi Levinson in our synagogue was a High Priest, but we never discussed the craft with him as he was not in our circle; although, I always expected that Monsignor Morgan studied under him.”

  She stops and looks surprised. “Oh my! I need to pee!” She launches off the bed towards the bathroom. I go to the kitchen and fill a couple glasses of water. I drain mine as I hear Rebecca release her bowels, too. ‘It IS a cozy little apartment,’ I think to myself. I refill my glass as I hear her rattle the toilet paper roll, followed by the handle on the commode, and eventually she flushes it. Then the sink is running.

  She joins me in the kitchen. I hand her a glass of water, and she drains that. She sighs and says, “Oh my! I needed that.” She taps my chest, “William, modern bathrooms are much better than running to the outhouse. And I can wash myself right there too! Very convenient!”

  I chuckle at how much she appreciates modern plumbing as I refill her glass. “Couch or bed?” I ask her over my shoulder.

  “Couch, I think. We can still sit on the sheet,” she says decisively.

  “Right. I don’t want to stick to the faux leather,” I agree.

  We sit and Rebecca places her legs
over mine as we turn to face each other and lean against the back cushion.

  “Where was I?” she asks. “Oh yes. Thaumaturgy is the most rare craft. We didn’t have a practitioner in our circle. Aunt Judith said there was one in Jerome that went around and saved people from mine collapses. Thaumaturgy is the craft of affecting a desired result on a whole ‘thing’ by affecting a small piece of it or a related item. Mrs. Leuvenfeld says...er, said, that no one really understands thaumaturgy except thaumaturges.”

  I nod, and Rebecca continues. “Wow! Talking is so much easier now than when I was spectral. Next up is sorcery, the craft of summoning demons and spirits to perform tasks. Sorcery is a bit strange in that very little actual power is required for it. It’s a craft of willpower and knowledge. That’s why there are so many stories of people accidentally summoning a demon and being eaten or enthralled. It’s largely procedural. Correct pronunciation, correct procedures, and the will to bind the summoned entity to do your bidding. I am not saying there are no sorcerers with significant power, but a strong will is the main requirement. An exceptional memory is also useful, but most people with power have a better memory than most non-talented folks.”

  Rebecca reaches out and caresses my cheek, “That brings me to you, William my love.” I smile at the title. She continues, “Necromancy is the craft of manipulating life energy and death energy. It can be used to heal by removing death energy, like you did for Marissa, or counteracting the effects of atrophy. It can also be used for harm by removing the life energy or binding a soul much like a sorcerer would a summoned entity. They can kill zombies with minimal thought as zombies have no soul to hold their life energy to their bodies - fortunately they are rare. Necromancers can kill humans and demons because both have souls. The necromancer can drain the life energy from their very souls or by separating their souls from their bodies to create a zombie. They can resurrect a dead body by filling it with life energy and even push the soul back into it if it is nearby. If the soul has departed, resurrection will result in a zombie. If the body has decomposed to the point the brain has deteriorated, then the result is a ghoul. Necromancers can resurrect a ghost by pushing them into a zombie or by creating a golem from the earth or flesh and pushing the ghost into that. Apparently, they can also do it by feeding life energy into the ghosts’ spectral form, which allows the ghost to create its own body. I hadn’t heard of that until you did it to me.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t get it Rebecca. I didn’t exert any will or consciously do anything.”

  She shrugs. “I don’t know how to explain it, Will. I just know that you did it. Ghosts don’t come back to life unless a necromancer makes it happen. That you did it without intent indicates you are very powerful.”

  She taps her lips for a moment and then takes a sip of water. “Aunt Judith mentioned once that the Saint Jacques family in New Orleans were the most powerful of the known necromancers, and they could do unbelievable feats of magic. She used to tell stories of some of the stuff Remy St. Jacques used to do. The St. Jacques family all disappeared one day. No one knows what happened to them.”

  I think, ‘Oh shit! I take a big gulp of water. I look off into the distance and tell her, “They all packed up and moved to St. Louis. I don’t know why. They anglicized their name to St. James upon arrival. The family that left St. Louis to move to Kansas City dropped the ‘saint’ part all together. Both of my parents are descendents of Remy St. Jacques. My mother is from the St. James family of St. Louis; although, her maiden name was Conner. Grandma Connor lived to one hundred seven, but she looked like she might have been in her fifties. My mom looked older than Grandma when she died at forty-nine. My dad was from the James family of Kansas City. I grew up in a little town called Osage City - about a two-hour drive from Kansas City.”

  Rebecca is awed. “Master! You’re a St. Jacques!” she exclaims.

  I look at her with a frown on my face. “Why am I your master? In BDSM play, it’s common for submissive, or ‘subs,’ to call their dominate, or ‘dom,’ their ‘Master.’ I don’t think you have a submissive bone in your body. I don’t get it.”

  “William my love, you created my body. As a result, you have ownership rights over me as a slave. That makes it very difficult for another necromancer to take me away from you as long as you actively admit the bond and claim me. My ready acceptance of you as my master makes it even more difficult for another to steal me. That our relationship is sealed by bonds of love makes the bonds nearly impossible to break.” She smiles at me. “When Marissa and I were lying on either side of your sleeping body holding hands, she asked if I loved you. I admitted it to her. I fell for you almost immediately just because you treated me like I was important, and you showed compassion for my plight.”

  “How could I not, sweetheart?” I lean and kiss her gently before sitting back.

  She smiles at me. “I must say I prefer this life to my last one.” She gets thoughtful for a moment. “However, it may all be one life. I guess I should say ‘I enjoy living in this body more than the last one.’ Don’t you think so, Will?”

  “Sounds right, Rebecca.”

  She says, “Let’s try an experiment. Close your eyes.” I do. “Reach for me with your mind. Imagine touching me with your mind.” I nod after a moment. Then she says, “Now gently give me a little push with your mind.” I do and she immediately gasps. “Oh my gracious, Master! You almost pushed me out of my body!”

  I set my glass down and hug her to me, which causes her to splash her water on me. I take her glass and set it next to mine. “Honey, I just thought about pushing about this much.” I demonstrate with my hand against her shoulder.

  She looks up at me and says, “You are strong! You created a body for a spirit, which is a master level work. You did it by accident.”

  I hold her close, “What do I do?”

  “I don’t know, Master. I don’t know any necromancers. My Aunt Judith might still be alive, but it’s unlikely. She claimed she wasn’t that strong. A strong necromancer can essentially live forever.

  ‘Okay...my mind is officially blown.’

  She says, “Maybe start by touching the soul of people you meet, so you get used to seeing souls and touching them. Keep removing the death energy from Marissa, too. That’s good practice, and it helps someone you love. Maybe see if you can do it with intention without fucking her. Then you can keep the fucking limited to showing her how much you love her.”

  I give her a shy grin.

  “She loves you too, Will. Her girlfriend is tearing her apart. I think she really wants to drag Carla over here and start a ménage a trois with you. Carla is the problem.”

  “You don’t sound bothered by the idea, baby.”

  “I am not bothered by it. I like Marissa. I think we are going to be great friends. I would be fine with my master ordering me to pleasure her with my mouth,” she says with a wicked grin.

  I laugh and wink at her. “I really have turned you into a slut, haven’t I?”

  “Maybe not completely, William my love. I think you still have work to do to finish my conversion. Get busy, Master!” She grins at me like she’s about to get a treat.

  So I get up, snag her into a bridal carry, and march her to the bedroom to do just that. She laughs gloriously.

  * * *

  It’s about 9:30 pm when my phone pings. I look around and it’s not on the bedside table. I walk out to the living room. I fill both our glasses and check my messages.

  I look at my email first to find a note from Zach. The city inspector didn’t show today, but committed to making it tomorrow afternoon. Great, that’s two days of slippage. There are a couple of status updates from my work team, and a job invite from Upwork to do some test automation. That last one is exciting. I suspect that my new girlfriend is going to require a bit of money to get her ‘legal’ in the modern world. Since it will all be fraudulent, I’m sure it will be expensive. Who can I ask?

  Bernadette! I’m sure she knows
someone reliable. She’s a madame. I am certain she knows all kinds of people that do shady work. I’ll may have to fuck her to get what I want, but the times we’ve done that were rather enjoyable. There’s just no emotional connection - well, not true. There’s something there, but it’s not love. Regardless, I’ll ask her when I’m visiting Audrey.

  Then I check my text messages. Just one...from Marissa. ‘I sure enjoyed myself Sunday. Tell Rebecca that I will stop by tomorrow afternoon.’

  I write back, ‘You’re always welcome here. Rebecca would love for you to visit. I’m afraid she’s going to be bored watching me work. Maybe the two of you can shop for clothes. She needs some.’

  She sends a ‘wow’ emoji back almost immediately. ‘So she finally decided it was okay to retire the nightgown?’

  I send back, ‘Yes. She says she feels much better now that she has showered and is clean.’

  I pick up the glasses of water and the phone. I put them on the bedside table, and take Willy for a walk. I hear my phone ping right before I flush.

  I walk back to bed to find Rebecca with a sleepy, satisfied smile on her face. “Hello, William. I heard a bell.”

  “Yes, baby. It’s my phone. Marissa sent me a message.” I pick up the phone and lie down next to her. I show her the screen as I read the message. ‘OMG! Give Rebecca my love and congrats. CU tomorrow! XOXO.’

  Rebecca asks, “OMG?”

  “It stands for ‘Oh My God.’ It’s an expression of surprise. CU is pretty apparent if you say it out loud. You know ‘XOXO,’ right?”

  “No.”

  “Hugs and kisses,” I tell her. I set my alarm for 6:30 and turn out the light.

  Rebecca cuddles up to me and wraps an arm over my chest. “Is that device hard to learn?”

  I kiss her gently and tell her, “It’s probably more difficult for you because you have no frame of reference for many of the things it does. However, you’re smart enough to figure it out. I may have to walk you through some stuff first to help you understand. Like the computer I showed you how to use.”