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Ghost Hooker

by Michael W. Clark

I fuck dead people. Ah, no, I don't mean dead bodies. I mean dead people's spirits. Ghosts. I have sex with ghosts for money. She was a large woman but still attractive. Who would have sex with a ghost for free? She laughed a suggestively. I don't care how friendly Casper is, he still has to pay for services rendered.

You're saying there is a spiritual brothel? Or are you a ghost street walker? He was a graduate student in psychology. He did psych evaluations for the court for extra cash. His thesis was on the abnormal psychology of the paranormal. It was a crowded field but most in it were too crazy to be real competition. He thought his calm nature would allow him to advance the field not just muddy it up like most others do.

You're not taking me seriously. She called herself Over, as in overwhelm. Her actual name was Sheryl Pim. She had been an accountant for over a decade but then she had the calling. A spirit calling.

Why wouldn't I take you seriously? His name was Wilhelm Stonegardener. As a child, it was his wish that people wouldn't giggle when he said his name. He thus considered name acceptance as an important feature in his career choice. He thought psychology was the only profession to accept his name, thus he was now becoming a clinical psychologist. No colleague, so far, had giggled at it, so he felt reassured by his choice. MS Over, I have no sense of humor ask anyone. Not one person that knew him would have disagreed with such a broad statement.

How could I do that? Over waved her hands around the cell. Not even ghosts here. People and spirit free zone.

Just evaluation isolation. Just till they judge you, I consider you, harmless. He knew immediately he said too much. He always did. When he got nervous he talked more. More than appropriate for the situation. Reassuring there are no ghosts here.

Why's that? She smacked her red lips.

Aren't ghosts supposed to be dangerous? Spooky at least?

Why? They are just unsubstantial people. Even when she frowned, she was still attractive. Mortal coil, shuffling and all that.

It confused Wilhelm Stonegardener. He usually didn't like dark or large women. Petite and light. These were the adjectives he used for his appearance preference on his Dating site applications. The people part. Ghosts were people. People can be dangerous.

Depends upon the people. She flipped her hair to the right, but then to the left.

The movement to the right, she was fabricating something, but to the left she was telling, what she thought, was the truth. Her body language was no help to him. She had plenty of tells, but they were all contradictory. Guess that is a good answer to most relationship questions.

Yeah, depends on the badgers, has limited applicability, relationship-wise. She smiled warmly at Wilhelm Stonegardener.

It did make him feel warmly. Ah, badger? Ah? Ah? He had to take a breath or two.

Over smiled a triumphant smile as she watched him blush. Just the oddest thing I could think of relating to relationships. Relatively relating to relationships. She chuckled amusedly.

Her smile made him smile. You are infectious! He unintentionally said aloud. More than appropriate, again.

I am not! I just got checked recently. And I always use the proper protection! Her face showed mock outrage.

No! I didn't mean! Wilhelm Stonegardener blushed severely. I meant, ah, your smile. Your personality. Not a disease state.

Some personalities are disease states. She made him chuckle this time.

See! He pointed at his face. And me with no sense of humor at all.

Scientists have a sense of humor; it's just mostly a bad one.

Ah, yeah, well, this isn't about me. You're the subject of the evaluation. He looked at her legs; they too were large, shapely and attractive.

So sure about that? She sighed. And evaluated for what?

Your declared profession, prostitute to the spirit world, concerns certain people. And considering the death.

He died with a smile on his face. No foul play suspected. She looked at the mirrored wall. Deceit in the name of protecting society.

This was a sexual encounter of the spiritual kind?

Mostly, they are threesomes. Me, the ghost and the bereaved. She flipped her hair both ways again and the neck of her dress opened more. How else would I get paid?

Wondering that myself. He had to look away from her to concentrate. Ah, how did you get into this unusual line of work?

Went through menopause early, around thirty five, came with the hot flashes and lack of my monthly blood donation. Thought I was pregnant for awhile. But then I noticed I also had these times in which I became aroused for no reason. Really aroused then I also realized someone else was there with me even though I was alone. There was some entity with me, but it had no substance to it. It had boundaries, like a glob of energy or emotion, but nothing physical. What else could that non-substantial being be but a ghost? Over made these statements in a matter of fact, straight forward manner. She believed what she was saying.

Why ghosts? Why not angels or beings from another dimension? Wilhelm Stonegardener was also honest in his question.

Why not aliens then? Angels and aliens, that's just crazy. She rubbed her eyes. Extra-dimensional beings? Boy, I knew all psychologists were psychologists because they were crazier than their patients. Sex with aliens! E.T. would still have to pay. She clicked her tongue.

Not as crazy as you might think. I recently read a physics paper from a reputable journal stating that they had developed sensors that could see rifts between the dimensions. There are eleven of them. Ah, dimensions, no sensors. The authors found that people who say they have seen angels and feel their warmth, were actually sensing dimensional leakage I guess you would call it. He was smiling more and more. Maybe she didn't have a mental dysfunction but a sensory enhancement. Maybe see could sense these dimensional rift occurrences and interpreted them as haunting? He had been hoping to find someone like this seen her read that paper. When he heard about the ghost prostitute, he required to do her evaluation. What Luck!

Now that does sound nuts to me. She put out her hands to him. You sure you're okay? You are very flushed. Her smile warmed every part of him. Have you been working too hard? No time to relax? I am good at relaxing men.

His heartbeat increased. His breathing too. I, could I, ah. He looked over at the mirrored wall. He flicked a switch on his computer. The mirror went clear. There was no one in the room behind it. Good! He said.

Uhm? Don't even rate an audience or peeping toms? Losing my touch?

No, ah, I want to make a deal with you. He got lost in her eyes.

Business can be pleasurable. Make your offer.

I, ah, really, don't think your issues are psychological, well the ghost thing isn't. You are not a threat to yourself or society.

Oh, thats almost disappointing. She giggled. Threats can be fun.

I think, ah, you are special, have special, ah, perceptions. I think I know what to look for. He was feeling lightheaded. Could I examine you?

She moved as close as she could to him without touching him. Whenever you want and whatever you want. Prod away. Proper prodding can be fun too.


Wilhelm Stonegardener felt rewarded for searching out and reading of all of the scientific literature on the paranormal no matter how abnormal it was and thus allowing him his insight in MS Overs real condition. Her fMRI head scan showed MS Over, in fact, to have the visual and auditory features of the angel seers. They all had additional sensing receptors in both their eyes and ears. Both were in the very high frequency ranges. Higher than most humans could perceive, but it was the interaction of these new receptors that was more important. By their interplay a unique frequency resonance was established between them. MS Over had those and additional brain structures. Her amygdula was 10% larger for her brain size.

Maybe her unusual influence over his emotions could be explained by one of her unusual features. Her influence seemed to grow the more he knew about her. He found it difficult not to think of her as more than a research subject. He had never been like this, infatuated, for a woman before. It was terribly distracting, especially when he had just made a big discovery for his thesis. He should be concentrating more on the biology of the phenomena and not her biology.

It was possible that the paranormal experiences people had weren't supernatural at all, they weren't paranormal, they were just usually out of range of normal human perception, like seeing U.V. Light. Those wavelengths exist, no question. Plenty of animals can do see U.V. light, from insects to birds. The mammals are the ones visually impaired, likely resulting from that 100 million year stay underground avoiding the dinosaurs. Mammals have great night vision, but reduced color vision. No need for color when you are in the dark.

The angel seers or ghost seers were human mutants with more elaborate sensory receptors for natural phenomena, normal humans couldn't perceive. The seers experience something that is really there. The interpretation of what they were seeing was created from some agenda they already had in their minds, religious or counter culture. Now he had discovered an even more elaborate seer. Her interpretation was rather unique but still she fit the pattern. The human brain fills in blank spaces, fabricates images as in optical illusions, makes up stories to make sense of incomplete information as with dreams. Why not make yourself as comfortable as possible and rest in an established belief system? An angel is far more reassuring than an extra-dimensional intruder. Even a ghost was once of this world, once a human being. At least, it is consistent.

The journal article on the angel seers had a quote from the Germany poet, Rilke, at its end as a warning to future researchers, apparently.

Angels destain to destroy us.

Angels by definition are out of this world beautiful and like most extremely beautiful things are self centered and thus dangerous to the people around them. Wilhelm Stonegardener agreed. MS Over was an angel, an overwhelming angel. A dangerous angel. And he should be more cautious.

Wilhelm Stonegardener though was overjoyed with MS Overs uniqueness and she realized it. You have seen into me. Deep inside my skull, my body, it's unfair, an unfair advantage, you have over me. She pouted like a little girl.

She was dressed only in a hospital gown. She chose the thinnest and the shortest just to destroy his resistance. He knew it. She liked her power over men. She liked manipulating them. We are in a research mode now. We, you and I, will help humanity. I will show you all my results. He said as a weak defense.

Ha! What would I know about all that? She moved toward him, but he moved back. You haven't asked to experience my excitement with the ghost embrace. It is more than just readouts and data. She had kept advancing while he kept backing up. They had thus made a complete transit of the lab before she stopped.

He thought about it. True, if you were wired up with the appropriate sensing devices, maybe there would be information to gain?

It will have to be just you and me and your favorite ghost. Her face reddened. Her pupils dilated.

Don't have one.

No dead girl friend or dream girl? Her breath was heavy.

His breath seemed to have been stolen away. None living or dead.

You know Jean Harlow, the black and white movie starlet don't you?

He nodded. Old movies he knew. He had spent plenty of sleepless nights watching those old black and white flicks.

She and I, well, have a special something. MS Over smacked her lips loudly.

You know I still don't believe in ghosts.

You don't have to believe just experience. Free of the usual fee. Her body projected heat. It almost shot out of her. It was overwhelming. She was an Over Angel. Make it my contribution to the research funds. She laughed suggestively, but just her heat was dangerous.

Shouldn't be unsupervised. Wilhelm Stonegardener kept saying to himself as he applied the sensory patches to MS Over's awesome skin. It seemed to have a static charge to it. Each time he touched her bare skin, he received a jolt. She would giggle when he jumped because of it. Still think you should have a robe on. He said to MS Over. They had gone to her apartment for this part of the experiment. MS Over had insisted!

She shook her head. Jean has her preferences. She doesn't like anything other than sans clothing. She won't enjoy it otherwise and won't come. MS Over laughed. In so many ways.

Please stop. He whispered.

No. She whispered back.

I need to turn the equipment on. He backed away. Lay down or whatever MS Harlow wants.

She wants. So much! MS Over groaned and doubled over. She quivered. The other side, ahhhh, makes them hungry. She groaned louder. Starving!

The monitor readings were as obvious as her actions. She was in a full state of physical arousal. She wasn't faking anything. She was enjoying every moment. He had to concentrate on his data readouts. He was sweating even though her apartment was cool. Her enhanced receptors were reading very active. You sense her presence?

Dumb question! She laughed. You can sense her too. Then she grabbed his leg. I know you want to!

Wilhelm Stonegardener felt something so extreme he couldn't tell if it was pain or pleasure. He stumbled and fell to his knees. You channel, your, your perceptions? He lay back on the floor. Paper didn't mention something like this.

Not good enough research? She whispered as she moved toward him. She seemed predatory in her approach.

They talked about extreme, extreme emotion, pleasure or anger but not transfer from a sensitive person to a non-sensitive individual. He groaned as she removed his clothing. We shouldn't. He managed to get out.

Research is research. Anyway Jean insists! MS Over touched Wilhelm Stonegardener in ways he never dreamed of. She was a professional. Risk it for science!

For science. He moaned.

He woke dehydrated and sore. He looked at his monitors, it had been six hours since he turned them on! They contained massive amounts of data. Good thing they remembered because he didn't. He felt a little like he did with a hangover, but he had nothing to drink yesterday because of the session, no beer or wine. He knew the reason he was cold though, he was naked on the wooden floor.

Suddenly he got warm. MS Over rolled over to lie on top of him. Ever felt like that before?

When he shook his head, pain followed.

Ghost enhanced. She kissed him on the lips.

He remembered that taste. Dimensional rift with frequency resonance. He sighed. That enhanced sensation.

A ghost by any other name. She hummed and licked him.

Would still be a rift. He sighed again.

Doubter! She moved on him again. Over was a good name for her behavior, all over. She kept moving. He couldn't do anything other than pick up her momentum. No doubts now? She sighed in his ear.

Her voice seemed to eat him. None. Ghosts don't matter. was all he said for awhile.

She was still naked as he awoke again. She was going through his pants pockets.

I don't chew gum, if you're looking for that. He laughed at his morning wit. This was a new thing for him to try humor, but she didn't laugh.

No real cash? Just some change and a credit card? She was shaking her large head. Not even a bus pass?

She looked more bulky now for some reason. Maybe it was his angle of view. No over angel, just over weight maybe? Grad student. By definition cashless. He was beginning to get confused.

Well, you'll just have to find some, a lot of some. When she turned she no longer was pleasant to view. Thousand bucks would be good. She snapped he fingers over her palm to make a loud pop.

What? What are you saying?

I read the university research guidelines for working with human subjects. Mighty big number of violations here. Sir! A few major violations. She tsked tsked tsked during her head shaking. You didn't adequately complete the initial evaluation but cleared me of mental dysfunction. Oh, thank you for that. Don't know if that is considered a false report or just incompetence? Not good though. I am certain. No human subject research application process was done. No outside supervision was obtained. And there's the sex. No sex with the research subjects. I am certain, certainly. Just that last one is enough.

Enough for what? Wilhelm Stonegardener felt very confused. What are you saying? What is this?

Career ending or at least, ruining. And you just getting started. Ohhhhh! She scratched her large stomach. And me such a special individual. Worth more, much more than my name on an academic paper. You need to get me cash fast or things will get embarrassing for you.

A shakedown? He gasped.

She nodded making a face. You make it sound like such a bad thing. She laughed. Professional working arrangement. Routine really. Anyone smart has leverage over their colleagues. Control the controllable, I always say. Can't lack control or you will be weak and be taken advantage of.

But I can't. He grabbed his pants from her. She had been holding them out for him to take for awhile. I can't get a thousand dollars.

She cocked her head and smiled. These devices. They must be worth much more. They could be stolen. Lab drugs could get spilled. All kinds of way of raising cash. You are just not thinking properly.

I couldn't.

She nodded. You will or the videos will be all over the web.

Of what?

For a smart guy you are so dumb. Ghost prostitute plying her trade. Paranormal sex for money. Ménage de Ghost! Inappropriate behavior in most minds.

But the work? He was simply stunned.

Doesn't have to stop, just fee based now. No freebies even for Casper, remember?

But. He whispered.

Big butt, but you loved it. She slapped her own ass loudly. Have video of that too.

What can I do? He zipped up his pants.

That's a good start, but get your data out of that computer. I've got a guy who's coming over any minute to buy it.

I can't. He put his hand weakly out.

You have to honey. She took his hand and her face changed. Mommy said so.

Why he felt such pleasure with that statement he wasn't sure, but the devices started reading the presence of Jean Harlow again.

Copyright © Michael W. Clark 2011

Michael W. Clark is a biology professor and biotech business consultant that has three short stories and three poems published in small literary journals. He lives in Santa Monica California.

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