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Message-ID: <41523asstr$1048911002@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Kenny Gamura" <turtlemeat69@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} RP: Your new bride is a little spooky {Gamera}
Date: Fri, 28 Mar 2003 23:10:02 -0500
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                           Disclaimer

What follows is a work of fiction.  Things have been completely
made up by the fevered mind of the writer.  It is a sex story
meaning that it includes descriptions of sex acts and so you
should most likely not be reading it, especially if doing so will
result in prison, spankings, restrictions of privileges, or
excessive numbers of "Hail Marys."  A special thanks to Fr.
Ignathus who's {Hopper Fodder} news item inspired the orginal
post.

   In no way does the posting of this work on the Usenet imply
that the writer has waved any rights under international
convention and copyright law.  The use of this story on any web-
site, both commercial and free, is prohibited without advance
permission.  The archiving of this story by ASSTR/ASSM and Goggle
is understood and encouraged.  Come-ons for penis enlargement
systems and hair replacements can be sent to the address below,
where they will be deleted without being opened. The occasional
piece of fanmail will not be deleted, but instead, will be read,
answered, and saved forever.

Thank You and Good Day, Kenny N Gamera turtlemeat69@hotmail.com

Original Post Date to ASSD 22 March 2003

                Your new bride is a little spooky
                                by
                          Kenny N Gamera


The older woman stood up from her seat at the restaurant table
and held her hand out to Roger.  He took it into his and gently
shook it.  Her fingers were thin and slightly wrinkled but
dressed just as handsomely as the rest of her.  He brought the
hand to his lips and kissed it. The skin felt soft and thin
against his lips.

The woman smiled.

"So you would like to marry my daughter?"

"Yes, ma'am. Very much."

The woman wore her wealth very well, so that her true age was
hidden by the apparent youth of her face and body.  She wore
fashions that showed off the result of many workouts and
surgeries in the best light.  It was only when one sat across
from her that her advanced years were noticeable.  Even then,
Roger found her attractive.

"Do you know what you are agreeing to, Roger?"

"I think so."

"You must stay loyal to her.  Completely loyal.  No straying away
from her at all."

"That shouldn't be a problem, ma'am."

The woman looked at him.  He had seen the look before, but mostly
from his buddy when they patrolled the various night spots in
whatever town they were in at the time.  He was sure that he
himself had used it as he studied some girl.  The woman smiled.

"I would think that a young man like you would be hard pressed to
keep away admirers."  She leaned back against her chair.  "You'll
find that you will receive offers that you may find hard to
refuse after you have been in this situation for awhile.  You
won't have much of a... sex life... being married to my
daughter."

"It shouldn't be an issue, ma'am."

"Roger," she leaned forward in her chair coming close to him, "I
am asking you to be absolutely loyal to a dead woman for the rest
of what may be a long life.  Can you really think you can do
that?"

"As I said, ma'am, it shouldn't be an issue."

######

Roger walked into his new home for the first time.  With
everything in place just as Malory had left it when she went to
the hospital.  He dropped the duffel bag holding everything he
still owned in the foyer and limped around the condo.  He studied
everything, wondering about the woman he had just married.  The
woman he would never meet.

Over the fireplace was her picture.  Her arm was around a friend.
It must have been summer, as both women wore white, loose-fitting
tee-shirts. Behind them was a tree, a large oak maybe, that
spread out in a large, dark green burst.  Each had a big carefree
smile on her face.

######

He placed the flowers over the green lawn, just in front of the
headstone and next to the single daisy that already lay there.

"Hi, my name is Roger Grace.  We're married.  I just moved into
your apartment today."  He sighed.  "I'm sorry to have used you
like this, but...

"No buts...I'm sorry.  Whereever you are, I hope you can forgive
me."

######

He turned out the lights around the single floor of the condo and
walked towards the master bedroom.  Just as he stepped to the
threshold, he stopped.  It was a large room with a big,
king-sized bed. He stood staring at it.

This was where she slept, he thought to himself.

He turned around and back tracked to the small guest room.  He
lay down on the bed and closed his eyes with a sigh.  He lay
there with thoughts that raced through his head too fast to keep
track of, waiting for the start of his first night's sleep in his
new wife's home.

At the crash of glass, he popped up, aware of having just drifted
to sleep, but unaware of how much time had passed. He reached for
the lamp switch and turned on the light.  He threw on a robe and
ran to the living room.  The picture over the fireplace lay on
the floor.

He bent to pick it up.  The glass of the frame had shattered over
the floor.  He noticed a piece missing.  He placed the picture
back on the wall before turning to get a broom.

He felt an arm wrap around his neck from behind.  A hand appeared
next to his throat, the missing glass floating in its fingers.
The hand glowed slightly and the floor could be faintly seen
through it.

"Who are you?"

Roger reacted.  He grabbed the arm near the glass and threw his
body forward.  A slight glowing form flew over his head.  It sank
through the couch and landed hard on its seat on the floor.

"I'm your husband."

Malory stood.  Her lower legs were surrounded by the couch.

"My what?!"

"Husband.  Your mom had us married."

"That bitch!  That god damn bitch!  She had no fucking right!"

"No, she hadn't."

The ghost floated forward.  The soles of her bare feet hovered
inches off the floor.  She came to a halt in front of him.

"You don't have the right either, you bastard."

"I..."

The pain was sharp as the ghost brought her knee up between his
legs.  He gasped out in shock and pain, reeling back just a
little. The ghost stood motionless for a moment.  Then she
reached for his crotch.  Her hand disappeared through the robe.

"There's...there's nothing there..."

Roger nodded his head.  "I fought in the war.  I got hit outside
Baghdad and close to where your hand is now. Part of me is still
there."

"Oh."

"I guess I paid the penultimate price.  So when I saw your
mother's ad...I figured that it wouldn't be too much of a
strain."

"Strain?"

"To be loyal to you...that is all she wants."

"The bitch."  The ghost turned and the lamp flew against the wall
from the end table.  "I was dead and she still couldn't accept
it."

"Accept what?"

"That I am a lesbian...uh?..."

"Roger."

"I'm dead and she needed to get that last bit in to pretend I
wasn't who I am.  To make me what she wanted when I couldn't
fight back."

"I'm sorry."   Roger turned to the guest room.  "I'll pack...and
go."

A thin hand, unadorned, but much like her mother's, took his
shoulder.

"Wait."

######

They were in the kitchen.  Roger drank a cup of instant coffee
that the ghost had made him.  They sat across from each other.
Over the course of an hour they had talked of themselves and
their lost dreams. Now the ghost looked at him.

"I am still surprised that you aren't frightened of me."

"I was a ranger.  I've faced a lot worse than the ghost of a
lesbian in my life."

"What will you do now?"

He shrugged his shoulders.  "If I leave, your mother nullifies
the deal.  I have to stay here.  And I need the money."

"I thought the army..."

"It may have no use for dickless rangers, but I'm not really
disabled."

"College?"

"If I was smart enough for college, I wouldn't have been trying
to make a career of the military.  I can't even get one to look
at my application."

"Oh"  The ghost paused in thought.  "Please, stay."

"What?"

"My mother is using you to get to me.  Besides..." she looked
down to the gap in his robe  "...someone should do something for
you."

"Thanks, but..."

"No buts, soldier...besides I will take my revenge on her."

"How's that?"

"Look."

Roger lowered his head to the gap in his robe.  His eyes grew
wide.

"We have some powers in the afterlife...to bring back things to
this side."  She smiled.  "I have some lonely friends over there.
I can bring some over.  Mom and her detectives will never know
and we will have beaten her.  Now get some sleep, Roger.  You
will need it for tommorrow."

Roger nodded his head in silence.  Slowly, the ghost that had
become his wife disappeared into the air.  He got up and walked
to the guest room, lying down on the bed.  The flaps of the robe
fell to the sides. He stared down his belly for several minutes.

Finally, he took the hard glowing member into his hand and began
to stroke it.






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