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Possession is 9/10 of the Law	By : filthkitten Category: 1 through F > Caspar (1995) > Caspar (1995) Views: 6829 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from the 1995 film Casper, and I do not make any money from these writings.

Chapter List
- 1-Possession is 9/10 of the Law
- 1
This really does belong in Movies / Casper, but there was no such category. Sorry!
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Kat tossed and turned. No matter what position she laid in, she was uncomfortable, and her mind just would NOT shut up. She sighed. There was nothing for it. She'd have to break her promise to herself not to do it again.

A few months before, Kat had found a new way to get to sleep. She knew the technical term, but in her head, she called it 'rocking herelf to sleep' - because 'masturbation' sounded so clinical and 'jerking off' was something boys did, at least according to her girlfriends' gossip. Since discovering that she could bring herself off, she'd quickly become an addict, and had got into the habit of doing it every night. It was a very nice way to drift off into sleep, pleasantly exhausted, body throbbing gently all over. But she had done it so often that it had become her nightly routine - and the only way she could get to sleep! So, the night before, she had promised herself that it was the last time, that she'd stop doing it for at least a week. She had enough self-control that she could cut down to once a week. After all, she could sleep just fine BEFORE discovering this, so she should be able to sleep AFTER, right?

Of course, she was wrong. Her body betrayed her, every touch of the sheets pulled her nightgown against her body, wrapping around her thighs, pulling at her nipples. Once a week? At this rate, she'd be lucky with once a night! With a soft groan at her own lack of self-control, she slipped her hands under the covers and up her nightgown.

Sliding her panties down, she left them tangled around one ankle. She tugged her nightgown up, baring her small breasts under the covers, and began her routine.
Her fingertips were cold from the chill of the room; she ran them over her body, starting a circuit from her inner thighs to her throat, her touch feather-light. After a few slow passes, she paused at her budding breasts, paying particular attention to her nipples, which soon peaked at her swirling ministrations.

Her body drew taut and expectant under the covers as she started gently stroking the outside of her lightly furred slit. Biting her lip to stifle a moan, she wriggled a little further under the covers, fingers poised to explore the growing wetness between her legs.

"And just WHAT do ya think you're doin', young lady?!" a voice thundered in her left ear. Her eyes popped open to see the glowing, translucent face of Casper's uncle Stretch inches from her own. She nearly screamed but was struck dumb by shock, as Stretch shot upwards and yanked up the covers, exposing her. She could do nothing but lay there as he gave her a long, slow once-over, clearly noting the panties at her ankles, the nightgown hiked to her armpits, and her hands, frozen between her thighs. A deep blush colored her cheeks.

"Hmmm," he said, grinning lecherously down at her. "Strike that, I think it's pretty obvious what yer doin'. I think I'll get th'boys in here to enjoy the show - "
"No, don't!" she squeaked, barely audible. Stretch cocked his head.
"And why not?"
"I just ... please, don't. Casper will - "
"HA! Casper? The perpetual twelve-year-old? Ya still give a shit about HIS feelins?"
"I-yes, of course I do!"
"Even afta two years? Even though he can't lay a finger on ya?"
"Yes, okay?"
"Well, too bad, fleshbag - because *I* certainly don't care."
"If - if you bring Stinky and Fatso in here, Casper will find out. Dad will probably find out. I can't, I just can't! Please..." she trailed off despairingly, tears welling up.

Stretch dropped the covers, which landed across her knees, and crossed his arms. She grabbed at the covers, pulling them up to her chin.
"Please, what?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Please don't bring them in here. Please don't tell Casper, or Dad, or...or anybody! I'm begging you."
"And whadda I get, f' being so nice?" Stretch asked, narrowing his eyes.
"I...um," Kat stumbled. "W-what do you want?"
Stretch pondered, comically pulling on his oversized nose the way most might pull on a beard.
"I wanna help," he said finally.
"Help? Help with what?"
"Help YOU, wit' THAT," he said, gesturing down at her.
"WHAT? No way!"
Stretch sighed ponderously.
"Guess I'll havta yell for the guys," he said, in a regretful tone of voice. He drew in a deep breath, ballooning out his chest -
"No! Don't!" said Kat. He looked down at her and raised his eyebrow again.
"You...you can help," she said, in a small voice.
"Tha's more like it," he said, dropping down to float about two feet above her.

Kat was breathing fast, heart and thoughts racing. What had she gotten herself into? What would Stretch do to her? Maybe he himself couldn't touch her, but he could pick solid matter up. What if he wanted to stick things inside her, or hurt her? What would she do?

Stretch noticed her distress.
"Come on, now," he said in a nicer voice. "I ain't gonna hurt'cha. You were doin' it anyway, right? How'm I forcin' ya t'do anythin' you didn't already wanna do?"
"You weren't watching before," she said. "There was nobody here."
Stretch instantly disappeared. His voice in her left ear said, "But there ain't nobody here NOW, is there?"
Ghostly fingers traced the outer shell of her ear, her jawbone, her chin. Kat shivered, despite herself. She was NOT going to enjoy this, dammit!
A tug on the covers; she reluctantly released her death-grip, and they slithered to her hips. She closed her fists on the underside of the pillow, needing something to hold on to as the cold, tingly caress lingered on her neck and jugular, slowly sliding down her collarbones to her breasts.

To her surprise, Stretch didn't brutally grab her tits. The stroking continued just to the sides of the outer swell of her flesh, then underneath them, on her ribcage, not quite touching. Her nipples hardened again, partly from the chill and partly from a touch so like her own. An amused giggle sounded in her ear.
"Not enjoyin' yourself, I hope?" he said sarcastically. Kat bit her lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response.
The icy touch slipped further down, across her belly, her hipbones. The sheets folded back to her knees, and the sensation followed them down the top of her tightly closed legs. Four-fingered hands gripped her calves, gentle pressure tugging them apart. She fought it for a second, and the grip got colder, harder. The voice whispered in her ear again.
"I toldja, I'm not gonna hurt ya. I just wanna look at'cha."
She sighed, and let the ghost spread her legs.

"Mmm," Stretch murmured. "S'been a long, long time..."
The chilly grip released her legs, sliding to the insides of her knees, flowing gently up and down her inner thighs. Each time he got close to her slightly swollen lips, she tensed, pulling back - but he never quite touched her there. An icy breeze, as if he had blown on her, caught the traces of wetness between her legs and made her flinch. She heard a faint chuckle.

Suddenly, the covers flipped back up to her chin. She opened her eyes, a little irritated by the fact that she'd closed them. Stretch floated above the covers again, grinning evilly.
"A-are you done?" she said, scowling a little.
"Not by a long shot, sweetheart," he said. "S'time for the main event."
"What?"
"This," he replied, and shot downwards toward her.

She flinched, instinctively recoiling. Her body flashed hot, then cold, then hot again. An evil laugh punctured her thoughts. She gasped as she realized she had not heard it through her ears, but rather directly in her head!
"Ya forgot I could possess people, eh?" The Brooklyn accent was stronger now, more confident.
"I don' blame ya. Th'boys can't do it, not like I can. All they care about is goofin' off. Stinkie woulda just made yer whole room smell like garlic, and Fatso'd probably wanna do somethin' sticky with chocolate syrup. But not me. I ain't interested in piddlin' little scare-stuff like that. I know how to get inside yer head, and ain't that the scariest thing a' them all?"
Indeed, she was nearly hyperventilating, her hands in tight fists on the pillow. Slowly, she felt them unclench, the fingers spreading wide. Her hands pulled out from under the pillow and in front of her face, shaking a little as she fought for control.

"Hey, now. A deal's a deal, right? Relax."
"I said you could HELP, not take total control!" she spat, aloud.
"I AM helpin'. I ain't done nothin' you weren't doin' before, right?"
She pouted silently.
"Right?" he asked again, more insistent.
"Yes," she muttered.
"That's right, and I ain't about to. So quit fightin' me. Jus' relax. Ain't no reason we can't BOTH have fun, right?"
She shuddered, and made a conscious effort to relax. Her hands stopped shaking.
"Thas' better."

Her hands descended toward her face, cupping it. Clearly a stranger's touch, heavy, harder than she would have done. Fingers splayed across her lips, her right thumb parting them, pulling downward on her lower lip. Her left hand dipped downward to gently cup a breast, squeezing a little, as though judging its weight. Her right stayed on her face, petting her lips, stroking her jawbone.

Her left hand lifted, flattening out, then descended again, the sweat-slicked palm running lightly over her nipple. The other breast got the same teasing treatment, and she could feel her body start to respond.

"You know what th'best part of possessin' a bonebag is?" the voice asked, self-satisfaction evident in his tone. "Aftaward, they never really know how mucha it was possession and how mucha it was them doin' what they always wanted ta do anyways. 'I woulda never done that, but I wuz possessed!' they say. S'as good'n excuse as any, right?"

Her left hand quit for a moment, and her right covered her mouth, the thumb brushing her cheekbone. Her left hand slipped under her right breast, then suddenly pinched her nipple firmly. She gasped against the hand covering her mouth. She had certainly never done THAT before, but her hips bucked upwards in helpless response.

"Gotcha," the voice snickered.

She began pinching and rubbing at her nipples, each bit of pressure making her cry out softly.
"Ssssh," Stretch admonished her. "Th'boys might hear." Her thumb was at her lips again, running along the outside of her mouth. Instinctively, she licked her lips, licking at part of her thumb.
"Oh, really?" the voice said, slightly incredulous. Her thumb pulled back, and her middle and index fingers probed teasingly at her mouth. Her left hand paused.

She trembled, trying to make up her mind. He wasn't forcing her, and they were just her own fingers anyway, right? She hated to admit it, but what he was doing felt good, almost too good to resist. It was a fascinating new spin on what she'd been doing for months, having someone else along for the ride, as it were. A director, in a porno movie for one. A director who knew what she was thinking...

Fuck it, she thought, and stuck out her tongue, licking at the tips of her own fingers.
"Mmmm," Stretch growled appreciatively. "Good girl."
Her fingers slipped into her mouth up to the second knuckle. She laved her tongue against them, coating them in saliva, sucking at them. Why hadn't she done this before? It felt great!
Her left hand worked her breasts over, gripping more firmly now, fingers digging deeper into her flesh. The pinches got a little harder, a little rougher. The fingers started dipping in and out of her mouth, and she chased them, lifting her head off the pillow to catch them gently in her teeth, sucking them back in.
"Y'know, I think she likes it," the voice in side her head giggled sarcastically. "I ain't doin' that, girl - that sweet mouth action is all yours."
She nodded her head, lapping at the fingers twisting around between her cheeks.
"Slick 'em up good, now," he ordered, and she obediently complied, wetting her digits so well that when he withdrew them, a line of spit still connected them to her lips.

Sliding her hand under the covers, he mimicked the position she had been in before - one hand on her breasts, the other just inches away from her way-past-damp pussy.
"You okay?" Stretch asked, waiting for her response.
She raised her hips, bringing her wet fingers into electric contact with her outer lips.
"I guess so," he chuckled, running her fingers up and down along the outside of her slit, mixing saliva with the slicker juices that had already made the tops of her thighs sticky.
She moaned quietly as the pads of her fingers started to make little circles around the hood of her clit. Her left hand traveled upward to her mouth, resting her index finger against her lips. Quickly, she sucked it in, covering it with spit. It withdrew and trailed downward, leaving a wet path.

Her right hand stopped the circles, and her middle and index finger parted her outer lips, opening the way. Her left index finger made a quick circuit of the outside of her soaked hole, then burrowed quickly inward.
She gasped as she felt her inner walls clamp down. Her finger rocked back and forth. Her right hand went back to its slow circles over her clit with a little more pressure. Her back arched of its own accord as the waves of pleasure started to focus.

"Havin' a good time, are we?" came the voice. "Don't bother answerin', I can tell. I'm in your head, get it? I can f-feel..." Stretch stumbled as a twitch shot through them.
"I can feel THAT. I can feel you squeezin'..."
"Muh-...more..." she murmured, not quite believing herself.
"More? Sure," he replied, and suddenly two fingers were stretching her. A slight pain shook her, but the pressure on her clit and the speed of her fingers increased and it was gone.

She was fucking herself in earnest now, plunging her fingers in and out of her sopping pussy, her clit screaming for release.
"G-gonna...gonna come..." she moaned.
"I know, I know - oh!" he replied, cutting himself off as she squirmed in pleasure.
"Don't stop, don't stop -" she panted.
"Say it," he snapped.
"S-say what? Oh, god-"
"My name, say it - "
"Stretch, Stretch! Just don't stop, don't - oh, Stretch, fuck-"

Her inner walls clamped tight against her fingers as she started to come, shoving deeper and deeper into herself, hips bucking in time to the spasms of her clit. She screamed silently, mouth open, head back. She rode through it, as he rode HER through it, a guttural, unearthly roar sounding in her head. The orgasm seemed to last forever; a distant part of her worried about passing out from pleasure -

She collapsed back against the covers, hands falling limply on her thighs, utterly exhausted. After a moment, she whispered, "Stretch?"
"Still here," he replied, inside her head, sounding just as pleased as she was. "Christ, d'you give a good ride!"
"I didn't know you could do that," she said wonderingly.
"Only wit' the willing, sweet-cheeks. If you weren't okay wit' it, I wouldnt'a been able t'hold the possession that long. I'da been shot right back outta there. S'the rules. Speakin' of which - "
Her body flashed hot, then cold, then hot again as he left her. She sighed, clenching and unclenching her hands just to be sure. She heard the tap in the bathroom running, and a moment later her door squeaked open just a bit.
"Here."
She opened her eyes. A washcloth floated next to her, damp. She quickly took it before it could get cold.
"Clean yaself off. I forgot how messy you fleshbags are."

He floated next to her as she ran the warm cloth over her face, then between her legs. The texture gave her unexpected aftershocks of pleasure; she giggled softly. He grinned at her and took the washcloth, slinging it over the foot of the bed.

"That was way too much fun to do just once," she said, smiling sleepily.
"Ya mean, ya want me t'come back?" he said, a little confused.
"Definitely."
"I won't tell nobody about it, don't worry. It'll be like I never saw ya."
"No, no - not that. I just - "
"What? You fleshies always take forever to get ta the point!"
"I wanna do it again," she said, in a rush. He paused.
"Ya do?"
"Yes."
"Well...I guess I could come back. S'my house, after all."
"Only you, though."
"A'course, only me! Y'think I'd share somethin' this fun with th'boys? A ghost has to have his secrets, y'know."
"Good."
"When didya want me to come back?"
"Mmm...how about once a week?"
- 1
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Possession is 9/10 of the Law