Sceptical about ghosts?
A few years ago I was pretty sceptical myself but then my life was
changed forever by the extraordinary events I’m about to recount.
It was 31st October 2003, Halloween. I was
a twenty-five year old psychology student in my second year at Ripon
college and I had taken a departure from my main line of study and signed
up for a new course the college was piloting in parapsychology. I thought
it would be interesting. We were barely a month into the semester when the
tutor announced that we were all in need of practical experience and we
were to take our newly developing skills and head out on a ghost hunt.
There were a dozen students in the class and we split
into four groups, each assigned to one of the reputedly haunted locations
dotted around the North York Moors. I was lucky. In my group, my two
companions were Adam, a student of similar age to myself, and Beth, the
class beauty. Beth was the sort of girl that most of us admired from afar,
beautiful but aloof. She was nineteen years old, long dark hair, curvy,
pretty and sexy but highly intelligent and studious, an image that was
emphasised by her serious demeanour as she viewed the world through her
designer spectacles. If nothing else, a night in a haunted house with Beth
would be a night to remember. But Beth seemed oblivious to the hormonal
effect she was having on Adam and myself. She was an ardent believer in
the afterlife and she looked upon the adventure ahead with focused
Our assignment was an old converted mill house,
occupied at the time by a young married couple, Mr. and Mrs. Thornton.
They had contacted the parapsychology unit at the college because they
were being relentlessly harassed by mysterious goings on including some
strange changes in Mr. Thornton’s behaviour. Mr. Thornton was convinced
the house must be haunted. Mrs. Thornton was sceptical and she was
preparing to leave her husband.
On the evening of Halloween we arrived at the house
at around six o-clock and the couple trustingly handed over the keys. The
college had asked them to leave us alone to carry out our investigation, so
they climbed into their car aiming to spend the night in a local hotel. I
remember speculating at the time that they must have had some sort of
fight. Mr. Thornton looked cowed and wracked with guilt while his wife
seemed to be smouldering with anger. She walked stiffly and lowered
herself very carefully onto a cushion that Mr. Thornton had hurriedly
placed on the passenger seat of the car. It was clearly very difficult for
her to sit and she flashed her husband an accusing look as he gently
closed the car door for her.
Anxious to get started, we waved farewell to the
couple and set about carrying our equipment into the house, never giving a
thought to what might have befallen Mrs. Thornton in that old and spooky
building. We had barely set foot through the doorway when the first of the
night’s strange events struck and stopped us in our tracks. A dark
oppressive atmosphere swept over us, almost tangible yet not something we
could identify. It wasn’t a physical sensation like a smell or a
temperature drop. It was just a feeling, acutely intense and threatening.
I felt my heartbeat race and I trembled as a mounting wave of irrational
and uncontrollable fear swelled
up inside me. Beth turned pale but the effect on the two of us was nothing
compared to how it affected Adam. He dropped the box he was carrying and
ran from the house. We could hear him outside retching. But stranger still
was the fact that when Adam left the building, the terrifying atmosphere
faded away. It was as if the
house just didn’t want him there.
We joined Adam outside. He was recovering but there
was no way he could set foot back in the house. It seemed Beth and I would
just have to carry out the investigation alone.
As the evening progressed the two of us unpacked the
equipment and started setting it up. We had full spectrum video cameras,
EVP and EMF readers, in fact, the works. As Beth busied herself tuning the
various sensors and setting up the lighting I started to become conscious
of a powerful urge growing inside me. I had seen that Beth was a very
attractive girl when we first met but now my feelings were becoming
obsessive. She was gorgeous. My eyes ran over her body as she bent and
twisted around the equipment; her firm round breasts stretching her
tee-shirt, her legs, long and shapely with her skin tight jeans clinging
to them, and her bottom… oh her bottom… it was magnificent.
Beth needed a socket to plug in a multi-spectrum lamp
and she found one tucked away in a corner behind a large easy chair. She
knelt on the seat with her back to me and reached over the back of the
chair. My knuckles turned white as I fought to control myself. I was
fixated on the seat of those jeans as they stretched tighter and tighter.
I couldn’t tear my eyes away as she reached further and further over the
chair, stretching her arm out to reach the socket. I knew it was wrong, I
knew it would be an assault but I just had to smack that fantastic bottom.
Suddenly in a last bid attempt to connect the lamp, Beth pushed
herself up and over until she was stretched completely over the chair
back, her bottom raised high, wriggling as she reached out to plug in the
equipment. It was just too much. I couldn’t fight the urge any longer
and I almost ran across the room raising my hand high and bringing it down
in an almighty thwack on that beautiful, naughty, inviting bottom.
Beth screamed and tried to push herself back up but I
wasn’t anywhere near finished. I had opened a floodgate of desire and
completely lost control. I put my hand in the small of her back and pushed
her back into position. Then ignoring her howling and cursing and with her
feet kicking at the seat of the chair I spanked her, long, hard and
Neither of us had any concept of the amount of time
that passed as smack after smack rained down on Beth’s stinging bottom
but the video we had set up showed the spanking lasted a full five
minutes. Five minutes of fast, hard, non-stop spanking that left Beth
bawling like a soundly punished brat.
Finally, the mist of rage that had driven my right
arm until my muscles ached and my hand throbbed drifted away and my sanity
returned. Confused and plagued with guilt I released Beth and stepped away
allowing her to slowly push herself upright. I couldn’t explain or
excuse my outrageous behaviour. It was completely out of character. I was
all set to apologise, plead temporary insanity and beg for her forgiveness
but strangely it wasn’t necessary. As Beth’s head came back into view
she stopped her furious cursing. She knelt quietly on the chair, sniffling
and red faced. Her glasses had flown off during the spanking and she put
them back on now with trembling hands then gently reached back and
clutched her stinging bottom, barely daring to rub. She turned her head
towards me but she didn’t meet my gaze. Her face was streaked with tears
and makeup. I expected her to fly at me and claw my eyes out but she
didn’t. She hung her head and looked almost contrite, as though she
believed she deserved to be spanked.
“Have you learned your lesson, girl?” I heard
“Y…Yes sir,” she mumbled.
“Speak up girl,” I snapped. “Or must I take a
hairbrush to your bottom.” I had no idea where this dialogue came from
but I felt compelled to say it.
“Oh no. Please sir, not the hairbrush,” she
Her pleading seemed to appeal to a wicked side of my
personality, a side I’d never seen before. I smiled at the thought of
turning her over my knee. “Oh yes,” I snarled. “I think the
hairbrush is exactly what you need. Go and fetch it at once.”
Beth’s lip trembled and fresh tears trickled down
her cheeks but she walked over to a side table, still gently rubbing her
bottom, and picked up a large wooden hairbrush. I hadn’t noticed it
before but Beth knew exactly where to find it.
I sat down in the middle of the couch and Beth
brought the hairbrush to me. She handed it over then fumbled with the
waistband of her jeans. She dragged them open and then with a sexy wiggle
she pushed them down to her knees.
“Please don’t punish me sir,” she begged.
“I’ll be good now. I promise.”
“You always promise,” I sneered. “But you are
not good are you? You are exceedingly bad. And what happens to bad girls like you?”
“They get spanked sir,” she mumbled shyly,
“very, very soundly.” I’m sure there was a mischievous note of
desire in her voice.”
Without further words, Beth shuffled forward and
stretched face down over my knee. Her bottom, already harshly punished,
contrasted a fiery scarlet against the white of her panties. I should have
felt sorry for what I’d done but somehow the sight of those well-spanked
cheeks just seemed to inflame my desire to spank her even more.
I put the hairbrush down
for a moment and ran my hand gently over the sore reddened flesh, feeling
the intense radiating heat and causing her to flinch and give a suppressed
squeal through clenched teeth. I took hold of the waistband of her
panties, easing them over her bottom and dragged them down her thighs.
There was no mistaking the fact now, that she was highly aroused. I
slipped my fingers into the wetness between her thighs and she squirmed
and gave a quiet moan of pleasure.
Withdrawing my hand, I
picked up the hairbrush and stroked her firm round cheeks with the cold
hard wood. Then taking a strong hold of her waist I raised the brush and
smacked it down hard against her bare bottom. Beth’s howls filled the
house as I set about giving her the spanking of her life and making sure
she wouldn’t be able sit comfortably for a long, long time.
When the punishment finally ended I hauled Beth back
onto her feet, spun her around and pulled her back, causing her to yelp as
she dropped painfully into my lap. She flung her arms around my neck and
pressed her lips hard to mine and we kissed more intensely than I had ever
known. When we came up for air I scooped her into my arms and carried her
up to the bedroom. I’m afraid we abused Mr. and Mrs. Thornton’s
hospitality for a couple of hours, enjoying fantastic sex in their bed.
In the morning we wound up our investigation. Neither
of us said much about the night before. We were both more than a little
embarrassed and Beth was more than a little sore. We collected our data
and over the next few days we edited out the bits that weren’t suitable
for public disclosure. We explained away the gaps as equipment failure.
So there it is, the plane truth about that
unforgettable Halloween in 2003. What do you think? Ghosts and goblins,
paranormal possession, or were we just two young adults thrown together in
extraordinary circumstances and giving in to suppressed sexual desires?
There is no doubt in our minds that the extraordinary events that overtook
Beth and I that night were driven by the presence of spirits from long
dead residents. It emerged through later research that in the seventeen
hundreds the house had been owned by Jebediah Ramsdon and his beautiful
wife Marie who history records as wild and wilful. I like to think that
Beth and I somehow provided a catalyst for Jebediah and Marie to once
again act out one of their sexual fantasies and to share their joy with
us. Oddly enough, the events that night struck a chord with the two of us that lived on after the investigation. After Halloween we became a serious
item, eventually getting married, and I’m happy to say that spanking
still fills our nights of passion to this day.