Carol and Tracy in the Old Dark House
By Jeb
If you’ve read my earlier story, Neighborhood Witch Watch (perhaps to be continued one day, perhaps not), you’ll recall that I wrote it for a pair of online friends (with whom I lost touch some years ago), sort of dramatizing some of their online roleplay: two sexy women, fond of bondage games.
In those roleplays, Carol is the beautiful young housewife who can’t help being a terrible flirt when her man’s away; Tracy’s her single friend, tall and athletic, whose passion for Carol is only enhanced by seeing her friend bound and helpless.
This is another story I wrote for them. It has no link to the previous story, and pretty much starts things all over again: at this point, these characters have had no sexual or bondage encounters of any kind. I’ve made a few tweaks for general consumption, but it’s definitely oriented to their specific tastes and kinks.
Caveat: they asked me to make this story a bit more overtly sexual, and while we don’t really get much into that in the beginning, it’s definitely going to involve some sex acts, of both the consensual and non-consensual variety, as we go along. Just keep that in mind if that’s not your thing.
Chapter One
"Carol, you've got to be kidding."
Tracy tossed blond hair back over her shoulder and scrutinized her friend through narrowed eyes.
,
"I mean, this is crazy-- it's like something out of an old Scooby-Doo cartoon."
Carol shrugged; glossy chestnut hair slid across her shoulders as she did so, and Tracy, for the hundredth time, had to bite her lip. Oh, Carol, she sighed to herself. If only you knew...
"...anyway, it's not that crazy.."
Tracy realized she had missed the first part of what Carol had said, lost in her romantic reverie.
"I've signed the appropriate papers, and it all seems perfectly legitimate."
"Carol!" Tracy exasperatedly blew bangs off her forehead. "Nobody makes out wills that require people to spend the night in a deserted old house-- that's from the movies, for God's sake!"
Carol pouted, and her lip thrust out so temptingly that Tracy had all she could do to keep from grabbing it in her teeth,and...
"Tracy, I know it seems... well, strange. But there is a lot of money at stake. And besides, the house was supposed to be an absolute gem when it was designed."
"That was sixty years ago! Who knows what kind of shape it's in now?" As she saw Carol's face fall, Tracy softened her tone. "Carol, you know that I would just hate to see someone take advantage of you or hurt you."
"I know," Carol was still determined. "But this is a chance for a bit of adventure, with the promise of a pretty decent payoff. I think it's worth a chance."
Tracy shook her head, but didn't argue. Instead, she asked, "All right, but tell me again-- just what is the deal?"
"It's pretty simple," Carol was smiling again. "I have to spend one night in the old McShiver Mansion , observe some supposedly 'haunted' stuff, and I can go home the next morning."
"And for that you're getting..."
"Ten thousand dollars," Carol beamed. "My late uncle Dan set this fund up, and if I don't collect the money, it just goes back into his business. I'm sure he would have wanted me to try for it!"
"Alone?" Tracy sighed.
"Well..."
Carol looked down at the ground, and the sight of her bowed head sent the flicker of some vivid thoughts into Tracy’s head; thoughts which were gone before she even had time to process them.
"That was why I called you. It does say that I have to 'enter the house alone'... but they don't say someone else can't come in after me… so I was wondering..." the big brown eyes in the tiny doll's face looked up and Tracy melted.
"You want me to spend the night with you?" she almost giggled at the double entendre.
"Well, look, I’m not crazy. I know that I would need to be careful when I do this... but if you were along, and no one knew I cheated by having you along ... I know I'd feel a little better."
Tracy sighed. "Oh, so I'm your secret bodyguard, eh?"
"I can't think of anyone better!" Carol ran her eyes up and down her friend's tall, lithe form, and Tracy wished she were being sized up for more than a babysitting job. "You're the most sensible person I know--"
"As demonstrated by my not wanting you to do this!"
"--and I know I can trust you."
"Oh, Carol," Tracy shook her head, smiling. "I know you, when you get your mind made up--"
"I'm a spoiled little brat, right?" Carol giggled.
Is that part of the appeal?, Tracy wondered. That childish pout? The thought of turning the little minx over my knee and giving her a good-- oh, good grief! Tracy shook her head as though to clear cobwebs out of it. Get a grip on yourself, kid! she urged herself. If you scare her off, you won't have her as a lover OR a friend anymore!
"All right, then," Carol beamed. "It's settled. Tomorrow night, you hide in the backseat of the car and come on in after I've got settled in. I'll call you on my cell."
With some reluctance, Tracy agreed, and the two friends headed off to their respective cars.
Is Tracy right? Carol asked herself as she drove home. I know that what she is saying is just common sense-- and she is so much more practical about things than I am! But then, if I have her with me, it's the best of both worlds—I still get my little adventure, and with my best pal there to help. She smiled at the mental picture of Tracy's face, stern and loving, and lovely, as she delivered her lecture... Carol knew that she had never had a better friend.
***
Tracy stretched a cramp out of her leg just as the cell phone chirped. About damn time, she thought to herself. After Carol’s voice on the phone confirmed that it was time for her to enter the house, she sighed in relief as she got her nearly six-foot-tall frame upright. She slid quietly out of the car, carrying her small overnight bag, and approached the house.
She'd done a bit of reading on the McShiver mansion before joining Carol in the car, and nothing she read had removed any of Tracy's disquiet. It was an old hulk of a place, with shingles falling off; the tall top of the house appeared to have a darkened attic. Probably no one's been there in forever, Tracy mused. Doubtless, there's a musty old cellar, too. And, as Carol's uncle had indicated, Tracy's research told her that the place seemed to be a fount of ghost reports and spooky stories. You don't have to believe in ghosts to feel uneasy about this place.
She stepped quietly around to the window that Carol had shown her in the photograph. By now, all the other cars had gone, taking with them the lawyers and administrators who had prepared the contract for tonight, and according to the schedule, Carol was in there all alone. Tracy peeked inside, and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Carol sitting on a sofa, thumbing through some papers. Tracy tapped on the window, and Carol jumped in her seat, then looked up, saw her friend, and laughed.
I'm laughing now, Carol thought, but that gave me quite a fright! But, then, the study of the papers had certainly put her in a mood for fright: the documents contained, in loving detail, descriptions of the various creepy and sinister goings-on that the house had seen over the years, with comments from her uncle, and spaces for her to record her own observations. My observations? they expect ME to see something like this?!?
None of the stories had dealt with anything murderously bloody, but a sense of unease certainly pervaded them. They were a litany of the strange and unexplainable: phantom footsteps and voices, eerie apparitions... even a couple of disappearances! Carol once more thanked her lucky stars that, at least, she was not alone.
Carol moved briskly to the door, still shivering at what she’d been reading, and anxious to get her friend inside. When she opened the door, they hugged, and Carol could feel Tracy's concern in the tightness of the embrace, For her part, Carol felt a warm sense of relief at the feel of Tracy; she closed her eyes and breathed in the familiar aromas of her friend's perfume and shampoo. It'll be OK now, she told herself.
The evening passed surprisingly quickly. By the time the two women had finished reading over all the documents and making note of the fact that they had, up to this point, seen nothing unusual at all, it was eleven o'clock. When Carol glanced at the clock, she realized that she had no intention of being anywhere at midnight, except right in one of the big beds upstairs. And it was just as she was telling Tracy that she was heading off to bed that they heard the first sound.
"What the hell is that?" Tracy snapped, looking around for the source of the sound: faint, it might have been human sounds, or just the creaking of an old house.
The living room was still brightly lit; even so, Carol found herself nervously huddling behind Tracy, a hand on her friend's back, as the two of them looked up and down the hallway without seeing anything.
Our imaginations? Tracy led Carol on a brisk tour of the downstairs of the house, listening for repetition of the sound, but their own footsteps were all they heard. They returned to the living room, sitting in silence for a few moments.
"Our first note, I guess," Carol laughed nervously.
"Yes." Tracy responded somewhat distantly... she was liking this even less than she thought she would. "Well," she brightened up, so as not to frighten her friend, "let's get ourselves ready for bed."
The trip upstairs was eventful. Twice, Carol and Tracy had to dash back downstairs to record strange noises... eerie sounds which neither woman could identify or pinpoint the location of.
On the way down the second time, Carol shrieked at a vague white apparition and threw herself in Tracy's arms. The tall blonde held her friend, and calmed her by stroking the long, silky hair.
Oh, good Lord! Tracy scolded herself. I'm supposed to be comforting her, and all I can think of is how great her hair feels!
After a minute, Carol disengaged herself, and mumbled, "Sorry."
"No, no, not at all!" Tracy admonished. "If I'd seen something anything myself, I'm sure I'd be asking you to hold on to me!"
Carol smiled. It was so comforting to have Tracy here… she was strong and capable... and very beautiful. Carol blinked in surprise at the thought. What difference should that make to their friendship? But there was no question that something about Tracy's clear eyes and warm, smiling face somehow enhanced Carol's sense of wellbeing when the two friends were together.
A trip back down the stairs, and around the ground floor again, revealed nothing, and Carol did her best to convince herself that her eyes had simply been playing tricks on her. Still, she was wary as they once more headed upstairs, where the two women found that the sleeping accommodations had, unsurprisingly, only been made for the expected single guest: a luxuriously-furnished room, lovingly-restored antique furniture, and a huge canopy bed.
Tracy considered making the obvious suggestion, but Carol spoke too quickly.
"Look, there’s far more bed linen here than I will need," she said. "Let’s see if one of the other rooms has a bed you can use, so you won’t have to spend the night all crowded."
Tracy sighed, stifled all the various responses that came to mind, and followed Carol as she moved back into the well-lit hallway, and down to the next room.
Carol’s hand hesitated as she reached for the knob; while she was certainly nervous about what they might find on the other side of the door, something else troubled her. Is this what I really want? I mean, it seems like Tracy should have her own bed to sleep in… so why am I hesitating? Is it because I don’t WANT her to be in a different bed? Unable to make up her mind just what she wanted, Carol opened the door.
No spooks, no eerie sounds: just another large bedroom with a big canopy bed. This room appeared to have been used more recently than much of the house, and was far less musty. Without further discussion, the two friends made up the bed with the spare linens from Carol’s room.
As Tracy began unpacking, Carol went back to her room. Each bedroom had a small bathroom, so the girls didn’t see each other again until Tracy turned to see Carol standing in the doorway of the bedroom… and it was all she could do to keep from weeping: the small, beautifully trim form was draped in a gauzy "baby doll" top-and-bottom set that did little to hide the perfect curves. The chestnut hair cascading down her back like a cape only made the sight more unbearably beautiful.
Tracy swallowed hard, and regarded her own reflection in the mirror: her nightgown was far more simple than what Carol was wearing, almost frumpy. Why’s she wearing that? Tracy fumed to herself. Can she possibly be unaware of what a little tease she is? Tracy flushed for a moment—she wasn’t much better, she knew: she’d only brought the old nightgown "just in case", because what she’d really been hoping for was that they’d both wind up nude for the night!
"Tracy, I just want to say Good night… and Thanks." The look on Carol’s face was serious. "I was stupid. I know this would have been a bad idea for me to do if I’d had to do it alone. I’d have been frightened out of my mind. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you… but I am glad you’re here!" Before Tracy could answer, Carol had dashed across the room, and once more buried her head in Tracy’s chest, hugging her tightly.
"It’s fine, Carol, it’s fine." Tracy closed her eyes and lowered her head to inhale her friend’s sweet fragrance; she hoped Carol didn’t notice that the smallest of tears had rolled down her cheek, and glistened slightly against the hair that shone with golden highlights in the dim light.
After a few quiet moments, Carol stepped back, blew a friendly kiss, and went back to her own room.
***
Tracy lay on her back, staring up into the blackness of the darkened room. I wish I hadn't done this, she grumbled to herself. I know Carol needs my support, but damn it, all I can think about is her lying in that bed next door, in her frilly little nightie. She could picture Carol's perfect little body, the tanned legs, the magnificent hair, and those pert, lovely breasts...
Tracy tossed and turned. Don't, she told herself. It's not fair to Carol, or to you, to be--
Her thoughts were interrupted by a tiny knock on the door.
"Carol?" Tracy sat bolt upright. "Come in! Did you hear something?"
Dim light backlit Carol as she opened the door, and once more Tracy gasped at the woman's beauty.
Carol stepped closer, and spoke. "I’m not sure. It was probably nothing… just all those things I was reading and all… I’m just…" she took a breath. "Tracy, I don’t want to sleep alone tonight. Would you…?"
"Do you want to… sleep in here with me?" Blood pounded in Tracy’s ears as she dared to ask.
"Well, why not come into my room? It was made up nicer, after all. Bring a pillow and one of the extra blankets." Carol stood waiting for Tracy, and when she joined her at the door, Carol took Tracy’s arm as they headed for the bed. In a few moments, they had arranged the linens and pillows, and were both snuggled down, cozily.
"Oh, this is a lot better," Carol sighed. She snuggled herself closer to Tracy, who couldn’t help herself—she took Carol into her embrace, buried her face in her friend’s lush tresses, and wept. Startled, Carol tried to pull away, but Tracy was far stronger, and she held her friend close, refusing to let her go until she had told her everything. For five minutes, Tracy murmured the truth of her love and desire for Carol, her lips pressed close to Carol’s ear, through the soft hair.
Carol’s brain wasn’t listening. Tracy was speaking to some part of her that was far deeper and more instinctual. Questions of propriety fled Carol’s thoughts… all she could see, all she could feel, was the wonderfully strong, sculpted body pressed against hers, the beautiful hands that were now caressing her breasts, roaming in her hair, causing her body to respond in ways she had never imagined except in her deepest, darkest secret dreams.
For her part, Tracy was half out of her mind with ecstasy at Carol’s response. Her body was practically blazing in its arousal. She stopped running her fingers through Carol’s hair, now, and locked them tightly in the silky tresses. She used this grip to turn the heartbreakingly beautiful face up to hers. Carol’s face was a mask of confusion and desire as Tracy brought their lips together, and the two of them melted into a kiss that was longer and deeper than either had ever known.
Where the night went from there, neither could tell. Both women were soaring on clouds of bliss and arousal, and the details of their passion blurred into the mist of climactic ecstasy. Though it felt as though it had gone on forever, it was barely an hour later that two spent, sweating women lay in each other’s arms, quietly snoring.
***
This time, it was Tracy that heard the sound. In the dark room, it took her a few moments to get herself oriented, but once she had sat up and pushed the hair from her eyes, she was certain that she heard something… it was voices this time, plural… and at least one of the voices seemed even more muffled and distant from the others. Unlike the previous sounds they had heard, these didn’t stop as soon as they’d been perceived. This time, there was really someone out there.
Tracy quietly slipped around and got her feet on the floor. She had to go tell Carol… and she suddenly recalled where she had spent the night.
Carol? Where the hell is Carol?