"Well, if it isn't old Matt Bateman. How the devil are you?" The tall man crossed over from the bar, pint
in hand and sat down beside Matt who was sitting, up to that time on his own,
in the corner of the hotel lounge.
Matt looked up and recognised a fellow student from his
days at college. He had often wondered
what had become of him. Now it looked as
if he was about to find out.
"Hello, George," he replied. "What brings you to this part of the
"Just taking a few days off to get away from it
all," George said, casting his eyes around the room. "This is about as far away from it all
as you could wish to get but I do love the atmosphere of the place. I'm told that the original building was
supposed to be Elizabethan and it really doesn't look as if much has changed
since. Are you staying here?"
"Yes. Just for the night."
"Then I hope you don't mind ghosts. I hear this place is haunted. Things that go bump in the night and all that
sort of thing." George laughed
loudly. "Don't believe in such
stories myself but I bet it draws the customers." He lowered his voice, almost to a
whisper. "They say there are moans
and groans and a disembodied hand, all dripping in blood, creeps out and grabs
the unsuspecting guest. It's more likely
that some of the guests have had a bit too much to drink."
"Don't scoff at the idea of ghosts, George. I used to think it was funny myself but not
"You're surely not trying to tell me that you have
actually seen a ghost, have you?" asked George, suddenly becoming a lot
more interested in the conversation.
"Where was this supposed to have happened?"
"Oh, it's true all right and it happened right
here. Or at least upstairs, in one of
the bedrooms," replied Mat. "That's why I'm here, or at least I
was. I'm thinking of moving on in the
There's nothing better than a ghost story in a haunted inn. You always were a good teller of tales,
Matt. We would love to hear all about
it, if you have the time. My wife and
are very good listeners, so if we promise not to make fun of you, would care to
join us for a meal this evening? You can
pay for your supper by entertaining us with your tale of the
"All right," agreed Matt. "I would be delighted. I need to lay the ghost, as they say."
"See you in the dining room then," said
George. "About seven thirty be
"Fine," said Matt. At least it would give him something else to
think about and he really had nothing better to do. Nothing to look forward to, now or ever.
That evening, he entered the dining room to find that
George and his wife were already seated at their table and as he joined them,
George introduced his wife. With the
meal ordered, Matt began to relate his story.
To tell them of the events that led up to this day and why he was about
to move on. The couple sat and listened
intently to his story, with the only interruptions being the serving of the
meal, otherwise they kept their promise and did not interrupt him.
A little over a year ago, Matt had been staying in the
same inn and sleeping in the same bedroom, that he was using at the
moment. He had come to the area to
instruct a local flying club on micro-light aircraft and, as an instructor and
a successful author on the subject, with his own two seater micro-light, he was
constantly in demand. Matt's full name
was Matthew Bateman but he was known affectionately as either 'Batman' or as
'Matt the Bat' and he had used these nicknames to his advantage, even
occasionally dressing as the famous Batman character. To maintain the image, he had recently
purchased a new two seater micro-light with black, bat shaped wings. It was all good, harmless fun and he had
raised a considerable amount of money for charity. Matt was a popular figure and well liked,
because of his unassuming and steady nature but he was also practical and the
last person to believe in ghosts. When
his colleagues had pulled his leg and told him that he was going to sleep in
the most haunted room of a haunted inn, he joked with the rest of them and
thought nothing of it, not even when he went to bed that night and climbed into
the soft bedding of the four poster bed.
"Sleep well," they had called to him as he made
his way to his bedroom, creaking across the old floorboards of the long
corridor. He was quite sure that he
would sleep very well. The day had been
a busy one and he had been flying or instructing for best part of the day. He was tired but fortunately, tonight was his
last night. Tomorrow, he would be on his
way back home.
Pulling the warm blankets up around his shoulders, he
curled up and drifted off to sleep, almost as soon as his head touched the
pillow, so that when he next opened his eyes and saw that it was light, he
assumed that it was morning. He yawned
and stretched, then looked at his watch, which was clearly visible in the
lightened room. He looked again. According to his watch, he had been asleep less
than an hour. He shook the watch, not
believing what he saw, then focussed his eyes on the room, to see that the
light was not coming from the window but was actually in the room itself; a
shifting, golden glow that rippled and moved, as a curtain might do, caught in
the breeze of an open window.
Matt shook himself awake and half sat up, leaning on his
elbows, trying to make some sense of what he saw. There was no sound. In fact it was eerily silent, as if he had
woken up without the ability to hear and then, as clear as bells on a frosty
night, he heard the words. They were not
loud. They were not menacing. It was a girl’s voice and it was pleading,
"Please bind me," it said, almost in a
whisper. "I beg of you, please bind
Matt's other interest dominating interest was bondage and
he could be described as a bondage enthusiast.
He loved the S & M scene and to hear someone actually make this
bizarre request did not come particularly as a surprise to him. He simply assumed that he was dreaming but
despite making every effort, was unable to come out of the dream. And then something happened that told him
that this was no dream. There was a
slight, additional disturbance at the centre of the glowing curtain of light
and Matt's eyes opened in astonishment and disbelief as a hand slowly appeared
out of the golden, misty curtain. The
hand appeared to be smooth and feminine, as if it were that of a girl and it
held a length of rope, offering it to him.
"I would be forever in your gratitude, if you were
to bind me, kind Sir," said the voice, as clear a bell but louder and
closer now, sounding as if it were whispering in his ear.
Matt felt the room grow cold, sending shivers up his
spine. He could feel that his whole body
was covered in goose pimples and if his hair was not standing on end, it
certainly felt that way. His ears
strained, to hear the voice again but all he could hear was heavy, gasping,
desperate breathing and realised that it was his own, making the only sound, in
the otherwise silent room.
"Wha ...what do you want?" he stuttered,
feeling foolish to be talking to an arm and a curtain of light.
"I only ask, kind Sir, if you would bind a poor girl
for a while. You will be handsomely
rewarded for your troubles."
Matt tried to clear his throat, started to speak but only
managed to croak, then swallowed and tried again, trying to bring some
normality to the situation.
"I can hardly tie an arm. You need a whole body if you are going to
make a proper job of it."
'This is bloody ridiculous', he thought to himself. 'Here am I, sitting up in bed in the middle
of the night, discussing anatomy with an arm.'
"Oh. I beg
your pardon, kind Sir," said the voice.
"I thought I was all the way through" and as Matt watched, a
face appeared, pushing out through the glowing, shifting light. It was the face of a girl of about eighteen
and she had a smile on her face as bright as the curtain of light she was
"Is that better?" she asked, cocking her head
to one side, her long black hair hanging down over her shoulders.
"Well, not really," replied Matt and despite
everything, returning the smile.
"All I can see is your face and one arm."
"Oh dear!" she admonished herself. "I didn't want to step out and trample
all over you. There, that must be
The girl stepped into the room, whole and complete. She was wearing a grey coloured fine woven
top that looked more like a low necked blouse than anything and her skirt was
of green wool, heavy and full. On her
feet were leather slippers. She didn't
look too clean but on the other hand, not exactly filthy. Matt didn't think she knew too much about
In her other hand, she held several more lengths of rope
and she held both hands out now.
you going to bind me or not?" she asked, almost indignant that someone
might refuse her.
"If that's what you want," replied Matt. "I don't see why I shouldn't."
"Yes. That is
what I want and I don't see why you should not either."
Matt couldn't help laughing at that, reached across and
took the ropes from her, fully expecting to find that his hand passed right
through the apparition. The ropes and
obviously the girl were as solid as he was.
Even the glowing curtain was beginning to fade away.
"I thought you were a ghost," he said with an
"If you mean a spirit from the past, then I suppose
I am," she affirmed. "But only
the present is real. The past has gone
forever and the future will never come.
Only the present stays with us."
"You've lost me," said Matt.
"No I haven't," she said indignantly. "I've found you and I want you to bind
me with those cords."
"And why should I do that?" he asked. "Does it do things for you?"
"These cords do nothing if you stand there like a
dolt holding them."
"What I mean to say is, do you enjoy being tied
"I do indeed, kind Sir. `Tis a dangerous thing to do in my own time
but here, me thinks you understand more of a girl's feelings."
"It isn't too often that young girls pop up out of
the woodwork and actually ask to be tied up," said Matt with a grin,
having forgotten that he was talking to a ghost. "But if that is what you want, who am I
He selected a length of rope and asked the girl to turn
around, binding her hands behind her back.
"Are you a wench to be so gentle with me?" she
asked indignantly. "Bind me
well. I am not a flower."
"I'll agree with you there," replied Matt, as
he untied the rope and started again, this time pulling each turn up tight and
making sure that the knot was well out of reach of her fingers.
"This must be a first," he said to himself, as
much as to the girl. "I've never
heard of anyone having a bondage session with a ghost before."
"What is this bondage thing?" she asked. "Bondage is being in servitude to
someone and I am not intending to be in servitude to you."
"It's a term we use these days for making someone
helpless. All part of the S and ... Oh,
never mind! I'll explain it later. There seem to have been a great many people
who claim to have been haunted by you.
How many others have you managed to persuade to tie you up?"
"You are the very first."
"Do you mean to say that nobody else would listen to
you?" he asked.
"I don't understand, but they all seemed to run
away," she said in all innocence.
"I'm not really surprised," Matt said and
continued to tie the girl with the ropes she had provided and having bound her
hands, her arms and some rope around her upper body, he told her to lie on the
bed, while he bound her legs. With the
addition of a hog-tie, he had the girl well and truly bound. The ropes were tight, as she had demanded and
she tested them by struggling and squirming about on the bed.
"You shouldn't be able to get out of that," he
informed her. "Give it a really
The girl lifted her head up as far as she could and
strained to look at the ropes encircling her hands, searching for knots, to
reach and undo.
"That's cheating," he said, as he realised what
she was doing. "It looks as if I'm
going to have to gag and blindfold you."
"Gag?" she asked quizzically. "Do you mean a prop in the mouth?"
"I think that's what I mean," he replied, then
made a gag out of two of his large white handkerchiefs by folding one into her
mouth and used the other to hold it in place.
He pulled the cloth tight, distorting her mouth but she lay there,
allowing him to do what he wanted, without complaint. A third handkerchief served as a blindfold.
Matt leaned across and smacked her hard on the cheeks of
her bum. He doubted that she could
hardly feel it through the thickness of the skirt.
"That's for frightening me," he said and then
smacked her again. "And that is
because I like smacking people.
Especially young ladies who demand to be tied up and especially if they
The girl struggled and rolled about the bed, trying to
locate knots with her prying fingers, or wriggling her body in a vain effort to
make the ropes slip and loosen.
Fortunately for Matt, he was well experienced with girls who possessed
exploring, pliable fingers. She remained
as he had tied her. After ten minutes or
so of futile struggling, she stopped, exhausted.
"Give up?" he enquired.
She mumbled through the makeshift gag and Matt removed
it, together with the blindfold.
"I beg of you to give me pleasure with your
fingers," she gasped at him.
"I would ask you to replace the prop in my mouth."
Matt did as he was asked and reached up the girl’s skirt
to feel between her legs. Her pubic
hairs were thick and wiry. Her hole was
wet, warm and inviting. He eased his
finger inside and began to feel about, searching for her clit; it wasn't
difficult to locate and the moment that he touched it, the girl squirmed and
moaned. The moan was a soft sound of
pleasure, as if she had waited a long time for this moment. Perhaps she had.
Matt worked his finger gently up and down, using all his
experience to masturbate the elusive 'G' spot.
It was not difficult to know when he was doing the right thing. The gag seemed to make little difference to
the sounds she was able to make. If
someone in the next room was listening, then they were sure to think that the
place was haunted. Matt was grateful
that she hadn't brought chains along.
With those rattling around, they would have cleared the inn of
She didn't take long to arrive at a shuddering, juddering
climax and as she lay back, trying to recover her breath, he released her from
the hog-tie and untied the cords at her wrists.
The girl sat up, removed her blindfold and gag and continued to remove
the rest of her bondage.
She leaned across and kissed him on the cheek.
"Thanks to you, kind Sir," she said with a soft
He smiled back.
She was a funny sort of girl. One
minute she was telling him off and the next praising and thanking him.
"Tell me about yourself," he said, as he sat beside
her on the bed. "What is your name
and where exactly do you come from?"
"My name is Jenny Blain," she said, as she
studied the white handkerchiefs which had been her gag. Feeling them and rubbing then against her
"You can keep them if you like," Matt said to
this Jenny Blain. "If that is
possible. I'm not sure whether ghosts
can take things with them."
"You are this thing called a ghost," she said,
tucking the handkerchiefs into the top of her blouse then turning on him and
slapping him. "I'm as solid as an
The slap stung Matt's arm and without thinking, he turned
on her and pushed her on to the bed, lying on top of her, his face an inch or
so from hers. He kissed her lightly on
the lips and could feel her ample breasts pushing up against his chest. His cock already felt hard as his body lay
over her. If she was a ghost, then she
was an extremely warm and soft one.
"You're a witch," he told her. "You've cast a spell over me and I'll
wake up in a minute and find that I've been dreaming all this."
"How did you know I'm a witch?" she said,
pushing him off and looking at him enquiringly.
"Just an educated guess," he replied and tried
very hard not to show any astonishment at her statement. "You are joking," he said to her
but she shook her head, her long black hair shaking across her face.
"Of course I'm a witch. Who else would understand how to use the
windows of light? Others don't
understand such things and that which they don't understand, they fear. If I get caught, they'll duck me in the pond,
to make me confess, then when I confess, they'll burn me. Do they burn witches here?" she asked, a
look of terror suddenly crossing her face.
"They might not take too kindly to you admitting
that you enjoyed bondage but they gave up burning people a long time ago. In fact, you are allowed to be a witch and
cast all the spells you want but the law says that you can't enjoy yourself
with bits of rope, even though you can buy all sorts of gear in rubber, plastic
and leather. As soon as you use it,
you’re doing something wrong."
"Then things haven't improved much in the last few
hundred years, have they," she stated and Matt had to agree with her. "Could you show me what these strange
sounding things are like? I don't
understand the words you say but they are surely exciting."
"It would take days to show you everything and we
would have to travel, at least to my place.
Can ghosts or witches, or whatever you are, can you travel? Are you still solid during daylight
Jenny looked at him in amazement and then, not able to
contain herself any longer, burst out laughing, rolling on the bed until tears
came to her eyes. Finally she recovered
"You don't know much about travelling the windows of
light, do you? Never you mind. Jenny Blain will teach you. I promised that you would be well
rewarded. Now tell me your name."
Matt told her.
"That's a strange name. What does it mean?"
"It's short for Matthew but everybody calls me
"All right Matt," she said with a grin. "Tomorrow, you can show me all about
this thing called bondage. You be here
at the same time and Jenny Blain will be back."
With that, she stood up and walked to the centre of the
room and, as she walked, the curtain of light appeared as before.
She put a foot through the misty light and that part of
her body vanished from sight. Jenny
Blain turned her head and an impish grin crossed her pretty face.
"Wait for me, Matthew Bateman," she
whispered. "Until then,
"Goodbye Jenny Blain," he whispered back and
she was gone.