Promptober 2025 Days 18-19: Waking Nightmares and Cold Spots
Using thepromptfoundry’s Ominous October list.
I skipped the past couple of days so I’m catching up by merging a couple. We’re with Griffin again–he’s quickly becoming a favorite sexy punching bag for me.
CWs: Rape, explicit sex, clothed sex, ghosts/incorporeality, ice play, monsterfucking
***
Griffin knows he’s in trouble the minute he picks up the old wedding ring. Its curse locks around him like invisible bands. His hands move on their own, as if he weren’t shaking with how hard he’s fighting it, to slip the band around his left ring finger.
He can’t remove it, after. His body is his again, all except for how it won’t obey him when he tries to reach for it to take it off.
He rubs a hand over his face when he tells the concerned homeowners, dry as the desert, “Well, the ghost won’t bother you anymore.”
Hands seem to reach under his shirt to cup his pecs. He shivers at their touch; they’re frigid. When invisible fingers pinch and roll his nipples, he purses his lips and puts his hat on and gets out.
Being out of there doesn’t help. The ghost has him now. It continues groping him as he makes for the subway station. One cold hand flattens against his abs and slides down and he makes a muffled noise as it takes hold of his cock. Fondling it, slipping downwards to curl around his balls.
“Stop it!” he hisses when there’s a break in the crowd around him.
Up ahead there’s an alleyway. He swings in there, out of the public eye, and begins conjuring an abjuration.
And then screams and falls to his knees when it squeezes and yanks on his balls.
Its grip tightens when he doesn’t immediately release the magic. Folded over his knees, elbows on the pavement, he pants through the pain and waits for his vision to clear.
An ice cold knob presses at his asshole.
“Oh no,” he groans to himself. And then, louder and more firmly. “No. Stop.”
It begins to push in.
He keens softly through his nose as he feels his rim stretch around it. It’s so thick. And so cold. He can’t stop his body from clenching on it. He tries to push to his feet but the other hand twists his nipples hard enough to make him gasp and crumple again between the two assaults.
He can’t relax as it forces into him, a fraction of an inch at a time. It hurts, like splitting him open, and the angry stimulation spikes up his vagus nerve and his lower spine to set his body tense and tingling with the assault.
The frozen hardness of it drags over his prostate and his hips pump against his will. “No, please,” he whimpers.
But it’s found him now. It presses there again, a stiff little thrust in and then a drag out, and his hips jerk each time, forcing little moans out of him. Another hand is still on his dick, refusing to grab him fully but drawing loose, lightly cupped strokes and tracing teasing patterns along his length. He’s fully hard and the restriction of his pants is another unsettlingly erotic restraint.
He reaches around behind him with one hand, but there’s nothing there except the fabric of his clothes is pulled tight across his ass from the extra pressure in front. But beneath them when he presses, he can feel his ass opened wide around something. It thrusts a little deeper into him, hard and angry, punishing him for his exploration.
He lets his hand fall.
It keeps going, these little thrusts splitting his tense body around them in increments, spiking something like an electrical jolt through his body with each one. It takes all his control, but finally he manages to control his breath and push himself to his feet.
Each thrust still sends a jolt through him that makes his body twitch and his knees quiver, but he squares his shoulders and puts one foot in front of the other, heading to the city bus. The ghost has made it clear it doesn’t intend to stop. He won’t be able to escape this till he gets somewhere he can do a lot more than just throw magic around.
On the bus he supports himself with his hands on the backs of the seats as each step he takes drives that frigid cock back up into him. He drops into a seat in an empty row toward the back, by the window, and heaves a sigh of relief that becomes a shuddery gasp as for the first time, it draws all the way out of him and then thrusts all the way back in.
He crosses his arms against the seat in front of him and hides his face so he can heave a silent sob. It’s pain and it’s pleasure, a masochisstic cocktail of both that overwhelms his brain’s ability to sort them, like being electrocuted or pressed against a block of ice till his body burns with it. His back arches now, ass pressing back into each thrust as they rock his body forward against the seat back. He braces to keep it from being visible to the other passengers.
What’s he going to say, that he’s being raped by a ghost? And that he can’t stop his body from being into it?
He’s pretty sure he couldn’t make it if he had to walk home.
#clothedSex #explicitSex #ghosts #griffinTheMage #incorporeality #monsterfuck #myFiction #myOriginalFiction #noncon #nsfw #promptober #promptober2025 #publicSex
