This story is fictional. However, brothels and comfort women (and gays) during WW2 are real. Until now, Japan has yet to apologize and compensate for their wartime atrocities. Any similarities to any persons or events, past or present are purely coincidental except for historical figures mentioned. This story may contain scenes which involve sexual situations between males. If this type of material is offensive to you, or it is not legal for you to be reading this type of material, please do not read any further. Please do not copy this story for distribution or post on any online server without the author's permission.
A Philippine Ghost Story part 1
That night, Eric woke up with a start. The darkness of the room seemed to expand with his eyes squinting for the walls. There was no bedside lamp to turn on, only the main switch beside the door. His lungs tried to suck in the cool midnight air but he noticed it was oppressive and heavy. He suddenly felt the hair on his nape stood up as cold sweat dripped down his back and chest. His heart galloped fiercely, he knew something was definitely wrong.
"Something is here...someone is here... Oh shit... Let it not be a ghost... Let it not be...." he thought, his palms sweaty with fright. Eric felt unseen eyes boring into him.
He shifted his head on the pillow and covered himself with a blanket. He tried to empty his mind of the fear of the unknown thinking that it's just his imagination working overtime. He closed his eyes and started to dream, but his ears were still vigilant.
He thought that this was already his fifth vacation at grandpa's house, so why on earth would any supernatural thing show itself at this late a time? He was not a stranger to this house; so naturally, he expected that the spirits in here would leave him alone. There was no specter in the mirror during his last trip four years ago, so why now? Besides, he was already sixteen years old, his body already showing a well-formed six-pack, round brown pecs, chocolate nipples, bulging biceps and a large cut dick to boot. He was a man, and all men do not believe in such childish fantasies. But his fear of the unknown still gripped his mind like a vise leaving him scared shitless like a little girl.
He imagined grandpa's house to be free of elementals and wayward spirits, but the mere sight of it can indeed raise goosebumps from first time visitors. The squat crumbling hacienda house, made during the Spanish era of Philippine history, was built with coral limestone blocks, molave hardwood floors and terra cotta tile roofing, with windowpanes encased in a checkered translucent Capiz shells that slide open like a shoji screen overlooking the yard. The yard was something else- a couple of monstrous mango trees sprawled near the front gate, unkempt bougainvilleas creeping at the first floor, banana and papaya plants dotting the edges and rough carabao grass carpeting the yard. Outside, the house looked like a lonely sentinel perched high on a hilly mound, with no neighbors to disturb it.
A couple of roosters were kept by Eric's grandfather in the back where on Saturdays, he would take one out and blow cigar smoke onto the poor bird's head for good luck before taking it into the weekly Sunday cockfight. But the scary thing is, it's only Eric's grandfather and his rooster. There's no one else, no spinster auntie to tuck him in, not even a maid to cook his meals or a gardener to trim the wild bougainvilleas. The old man said he's content with solitary living and that he never felt alone in the house after Eric's grandma died.
Eric's mind was already starting to drift away when a faint memory crawled to the surface suddenly jolting him. More cold sweat drenched his glistening mestizo brown skin. He was used to sleep in the nude and he thought this night was no exception.
"Maybe it's... No! Not that..." his mind screamed.
He remembered his second vacation. His older cousin, Alfred, came for an overnight sleepover and before dozing off, they frightened each other with ghost stories about winged demons, headless nuns and "white lady" apparitions in their school bathroom. Then Alfred, wanting to scare Eric shitless, changed the topic.
"Eric, did grandpa ever tell you about the story of this house?" Alfred said.
"No, why?"
"Have you ever seen a ghost wandering or a heard muffled screams during the night?"
A chill ran down Eric's spine. "Hell no! You're just making that up to scare me! I haven't heard anything since my first visit here, so I don't think there's anything weird going on in his house. Besides, grandpa would've said something."
"It's quite strange he hasn't mentioned to you about the house, even though everyone in town knows about its terrible history. Grandpa told my mom! I mean, everyone in my family knew about it including all our cousins, but not you!"
"Yeah right! Grandpa? He's not the type to blab such nonsense!" Eric retorted.
"I'm not kidding! I first heard about it when your grandpa came over for dinner a couple of years ago. You see, during WWII, this house was turned into a brothel by Japanese soldiers stationed here. While they had a bigger one not far from here where they kidnapped and gang raped girls as young as ten, young boys on the other hand were rounded up and placed in these rooms to be fucked by Japanese soldiers and officers. Some were gang-fucked to death while others, tied to their beds, were abused non-stop by fifty horny soldiers each day, while some..."
"Yeah right!" Eric said.
"Yes, really! Well, to cut the story short, grandpa said that most of the boys died due to being oversexed or venereal disease. How much he said was true, well, I dunno. But this is where things got a bit scary. Our grand-aunt, Lola Virgie told me another version of what truly happened. She was there when it happened. She said that when the Americans came in 1945, the family returned and cleaned up the house, but what they saw shocked them!"
Alfred saw that Eric became quiet, his dark brown eyes riveted to his. He gave a knowing smile and continued: "What they saw was horrendous- in a pit near the kitchen, dozens of charred corpses of young boys were stacked on top of each other. She said that some bodies were still recognizable. Their faces burnt reddish-black with lips retracted exposing their teeth, with their eyes hollowed out from fire, their asses were impaled with wooden poles and some of the genitals were still erect when they died. The Japanese soldiers were really barbarians! Here comes the good part! One night, weeks after they reburied the corpses, Lola Virgie heard..."
"STOP IT!!! That's BULL!! ALL BULL!! I DON'T WANT TO HEAR ANY OF IT!" Eric snarled in Alfred's face.
"It's not bullshit, stupid! It's what happened here! Grandpa told us so!"
"You're full of it! It's not even scary anymore! I'm turning in!! GOOD NIGHT cousin!!" Eric yelled.
"Fiiiiiiine..... Go ahead! But don't say I didn't warn you though. If you see one of those ghosts, then good luck, cuz I'll be outta here by tomorrow!" Alfred whined. With a smirk, he tried to continue, "So I was saying, Lola Virgie woke up at around midnight when she heard under this bed a sound that...OOMPH!"
Eric threw his pillow on Alfred's head. He had enough of his stories because he was afraid that it might be true. He thought that tomorrow his cousin will be gone and he will have to contend on being alone to face whatever demons were living in the house. But it was fortunate for him that no ghost appeared the next night. Or the night after.
And now, Eric was truly alone. His room on the second floor was far from his grandpa's so he knew that no matter how loud he yelled, his near-deaf grandfather cannot come to his aid. The room was no help either with its high-ceiling, molave floors, four-poster bed, the art-deco full length mirror, a weather-beaten shrine with its antique saints, creaking window panes, making it a veritable Amityville. Even during daylight, the atmosphere can be quite unbearable. Much more during midnight.
Suddenly, Eric heard a heavy breathing sound coming from underneath his bed.
"Hhhhhaaaaaahhh....hhhhhaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh.....hhhhhaaaaaaahhhhh.... hhhhhhaaaaaaaahhhhhh...hhhhaaaahhhhhh"
Eric grabbed hold his blanket and covered himself completely. He felt a chill ascending to his nape. His throat became dry and constricted. He trembled uncontrollably as he shut his eyes tight. He knew. He knew. It was coming.
He then heard a scratching sound coming from under the bed-Screeeatcchhh---hhhaaaaahhhh----- scrreeeeeaaakkk----screeeeaaakkk--- like human nails being scratched into the floor as if a body was trying to crawl away. Then it stopped.
The dark room became deathly cold. The air was heavy. Eric's eyes stayed shut and his heart was racing. He mumbled some prayers hoping to ward off the spirit in the room. Suddenly, he felt his blanket being pulled from his feet down by an unknown hand, slowly, slowly, tugging the fabric continuously. Eric grabbed hold of the top portion, his knuckles white from fear, trembling at this malevolent force. He held on to dear life but the unseen hand at the foot of the bed still pulled with increasing force. The boy in his fear panicked, his fingers uncurled slightly but in a second, the force yanked down the blanked leaving Eric helpless and exposed, his glistening skin covered with sweat.
"Oh God protect me...", he mumbled.
Eric was shaking from fear. His dick retreated to the base, his skin cold and sweaty, and his eyes began to water. Without warning, he felt coarse invisible hands grabbing his arms spreading them apart, and so were his legs. No matter how Eric pull back, the hands seem to be stronger pinning him in a spread-eagle formation. He felt his wrists and ankles being held tightly by something cold, something malevolent.
Underneath the bed, the scratching sounds resumed. It went "screeeaatch---hhhhhaaaahhhh------ screeeeatch---eeeee-eeeeee screeeeaaaatch"- louder this time, much closer than before, the breathing stronger and heavier. The air became deathly cold and there was a stench coming from the foot of the bed, an acrid smell of burnt flesh. "Scrreeeaaatcchh.--- screeeatchh"- the sound continued followed by the muffled sound of fabric being dragged along the wooden floor as if someone was lugging heavy laundry, or a dead body.
Eric sealed his eyes promising not to open it no matter what. The sensation on his wrists and ankles became colder and its steely grip stronger. He cannot even lift his arms from the bed. He was trapped like a bug. Suddenly, the decomposing stench increased, and the sound became like flesh slinking into the bed cover climbing up at the foot of the bed. Eric felt like screaming but his throat was dry with fear, no sound escaped from his constricted cords.
Then there it was! A rough sensation like cold clammy flesh brushed on Eric's right foot, then his left, then his right again. A chill flashed up Eric's spine, his glistening brown skin trembling from the imminent terror, his balls shivered from the horror that is to come. The ghostly flesh brushed again Eric's left thigh, then his pubes, then his abs, slithering upwards with its cold wet skin, groaning "hhhhhaaaaahhhhhhh----hhhhhhhaaaaaaahhhhhhhh" as it climbed up. Eric wanted to open his eyes and confront the specter but he was to chicken to do so. He then felt like icy fingers reaching to his shoulders, his nipples rubbed along the way making it protrude to the midnight air. Then, Eric felt a heavy weight that settled on his midsection but it was not human! It was cold, dead and slimy like seaweeds, yet the stench of dead rats overwhelmed his focus. His eyes wanted to open its lids, his curiosity was killing him.
To his horror, Eric felt hair- short hair bristling his jaw, and then he felt a soft wet fleshy mass dropping on his shoulders dragging its way to his brown chest, with the foul odor more intense. His mind was sending confused signals- on one corner the alarm bells were ringing wildly signaling Eric to scream for dear life, but on the other corner, his morbid curiosity wanted to wait and see what this ghost wants.
Eric tried to struggle against the unseen strength that was holding him down, but to no avail. The ghost shifted his weight upwards pushing some of the air out of Eric's lungs. The tongue-like mass that was streaking on his chest was huge, more like a wet python on the move. And yet the sensation was beginning to become pleasurable. Each patch of skin this tongue was licking became sensitive and erogenous. This made Eric's cut dick to stir. And the spirit did not let this event escape it.
Eric heard a low chuckling sound, "Hahhh... hahh...hahhh...heh....hheehhh...hhheeehhh " like a slow-motioned Darth-Vader laugh. It was eerie. He then felt the tongue dragging on to his left nipple rubbing it with its wet end. Eric's dick was beginning to harden even though the poor guy tried hard to relax. "Heehhh...hheeehhh...hheeehhh"
"Mmmmmmm... Oooohhh" Eric moaned.
The sensation traveled down his rigid abs, down to his pubes where the ghostly thing found Eric's dick already throbbing for attention. Eric tried to buckle his hips but this just made the tongue-like thing more aggressive. It licked its way up the boy's shaft feeling every vein and every crease, lubriciously wetting the entire length.
Eric's moans became louder, his breath heavier with each scrape of the ghostly tongue. He had conflicting feelings- he was so scared yet he wanted the specter to continue giving him his first blowjob.
The tongue went straight to Eric's knob slobbering it and licking its underside. Eric tried to buckle up and down to meet the tongue but an unseen force pinned his abs into the bed. He had to contend himself with letting the ghost finish him off. He suddenly felt cold flesh encircling his dick, covering it with an odd cold wet tightness.
"Ohhhhhh.... Shitt.... Ahhhh...", Eric whined.
The thing was giving the poor boy the blowjob of his life. Eric felt the ghost's mouth bobbing up and down his shaft, sucking and tightening at every go. Eric felt the wet vacuum like movement on his penis and this made him so horny that his dick was oozing rivulets of precum which the ghost was busily lapping it dry.
"Ahhhh.... Oooohhhh... uuuughhh"
Suck! Suck! Suck! Suck! "Oh Gaaaad... I'm going to cum!", Eric thought. Suddenly, without warning, his throbbing dick swelled and a burst of white slime shoot out into the ghostly mouth. The thing swallowed the entire load and proceeded to suck again poor Eric's sensitive glans.
"Haahhh.... Don't... please... no more..." Eric pleaded.
"hhhehhh....hhhehhh...I see you enjoyed it very much....hhheeehhh" the spirit intoned in perfect English.
Eric thought, "OMG! It can talk!" His eyes shot wide and he what he saw dumbfounded him.
There it was encased in flawless pale-white skin, a most beautiful boy Eric has laid his eyes on, floating a couple of inches in front of him. He was not invisible but there was something eerie about him, something malevolent. Eric thought that they might be the same age, but he wasn't sure. The ghost had this old-school haircut like what they had during the 40s and even though he was ghostly pale, Eric saw that he had aquiline features- angular jaw, juicy cum-stained lips that curled into a smile, high cheek bones, straight nose- much like the handsome mestizos I saw in the old framed photos in grandpa's foyer. His body was very defined with broad shoulders and a flat stomach. He even had biceps, a nice set of pectorals and a tapered-V abdomen. Eric gazed down and saw that the ghost had a nice set of balls and a fat hard-on. But that's where it all ends for further down the ghost's thighs was where thin air met. And of course the thing was floating!!
Eric's mind was going haywire. Though he didn't want to project that he was panicking, his back was profusely sweating. His eyes returned to face his intruder but as soon as he blinked, the ghostly face was inches in front of his nose gazing directly at him. Even if Eric considered this guy to be quite attractive, he was still frightened as hell. This time being handsome doesn't mean being safe.
"Thank you. Tomorrow..." the ghost spoke in a low bass voice.
Eric's mouth refused to function. He just stared at the beautiful face dumbfounded and unable to speak. His lips began to tremble.
"T-tomorrow?," Eric asked.
The specter simply smirked at the terrified boy and licked its lips accenting an already handsome face. Suddenly, in a twinkling of an eye, he disappeared.
Eric blinked and thought, "Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! What have I seen? Was it real? SHIT!" Cold sweat beaded down his back, his nerves all frayed. Eric shut his eyes again and silently prayed all the Catholic prayers he could remember.
"I have to talk to Alfred tomorrow! He must know! He should be able to tell me!", Eric reminded himself. "Tomorrow morning I have to investigate this! This is freaking me out!" With a pillow placed on his head, Eric forced himself to think of happy things, pleasant things, that after an hour, he fell asleep.
Check my other series like the Philippine-American War (Historical). Hope you enjoyed this. More to come! Please send all your comments and ideas to: holyrambutan@gmail.com. Sorry for all the typos & grammar errors. Thanks and enjoy the story.