The Stone Creek Hotel

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This is basically an dirty ghost story but just so you know the sex involved is straying into areas of dubious consent.

Peter nosed the car around another bend in the road. He was fairly convinced he had been down this way already at least once tonight maybe twice, but out here in the wild of Scotland on a dark November night it all kind of looked the same

“Fucking Satnav piece of crap” he muttered to himself.

The car was not his. He had picked up from the rental company at Edinburgh airport having flown up here to finally visit The Stone Creek Hotel. Peter ran a website where he reviewed hotels. He had started it nearly 7 years ago now. At first it had been a hobby, although his work then had involved travelling and staying in hotels he had written about them to while away some of the evenings spent in the many places he stayed. However over time his distinctive humorous writing style and excellent photography had pulled in the traffic to the extent that his site got a mention in a couple of Sunday supplement magazines and on various other high traffic holiday sites. That changed everything and suddenly he had hotels wanting to advertise and offer free stays if he would write about them. In fact some even offered to pay him to visit. He gave up his 9 – 5 and become The Guest full time. He had never envisaged this when he first set up his blog but now here he was travelling all over the world for free and living off the money he made from his writing. He knew that he was a very lucky man. Not many people got to turn their hobby into a lucrative form of income.

The Stone Creek Hotel had been on his must visit list for a few years now. Not because they had courted him, far from it in fact, he had heard about them rather then them about him. Part of what he did on the blog was to still randomly visit places that interested him for some reason or another at his own expense. Those often turned out to be the most popular posts and hotels, especially the small independents who couldn’t really afford him loved it when they showed up on his website. He kind of saw it as a way to give back to an industry that had been decimated by the big hotel chains. They could afford to pay him and he happily took their money and helped some of the small guys along the way.

This hotel apparently had the most beautiful views over the Scottish countryside, served amazing food cooked by a local woman who rumour had it had never travelled anywhere beyond the borders of Scotland and a selection of staff that kept the place running in a slightly old fashioned manner. Peter had been intrigued since the moment he had heard about it and now here is was lost somewhere in the middle of bloody nowhere. It was 5.30pm but this far north at that time of day meant it was as dark as it would be at midnight and there was fairly thick fog reducing his vision down to just a few yards.

As he took another bend in the road she appeared out of nowhere right in front of him and he slammed on the brakes so as not to drive straight into her. She stood in the white beam of his headlights and for a brief moment they seemed to stare at each other in shock but then in what seemed a blink of the eye she was at his window tapping on the glass, her face pressed up right close to it.

“Please, please. Help me. Please Mister, help me. It’s my sister. We got lost. Please”

While she rambled she continued to tap on the glass with her nails which filled in any of the pauses with this strange clicking sound.

Peter was stunned into inaction and found himself staring deep into her eyes. She had wild dark hair that framed her paper white face and her eyes, he couldn’t work out if they were dark brown or actually black but whatever they were they were utterly captivating.

He pondered for a moment whether this was some sort of set-up to rob him but then dismissed it. No one is going to wait out here in the middle of this landscape on the off chance that some unsuspecting tourist would appear and so he pulled on the handle and opened the door.

The moment he was out of the car the lady took his hand and started to lead him

“This way Mister, please, hurry. Come on, we have to find her, help her. Come on Mister.”

She led him to side of the road where he could just make out the hedge, but beyond that was darkness. Suddenly he realised she had let go of his hand and for a split second he swore she slipped through the hedge but when he peered into the darkness and she was back at his other side now tugging him along the verge.

“Here Mister, over here.”

Peter climbed over the rickety wooden stile and jumped down into what he assumed was the field beyond. Looking round for her again he wasn’t sure if she was still behind on the verge still or had gone ahead into the field but then the fog cleared, the clouds too and a silver white moon illuminated the ground in front of him and there she was. Her dark hair billowing out around her and he watched mesmerised as she let the ankle length thick black coat she was wearing fall from her shoulders and pool round her feet

“Come on Mister, help me.” she crooned at him

Peter wanted to run, to be back in the safety of his rented car. He could feel his heart thumping in his chest. But he was rooted to the spot, his body seemed to be unresponsive to his brains demands and instead of running he found himself drawn towards her until he was standing so close to her that her small pert breasts brushed up against his sweater.

“Oh thank you Mister” she giggled as she unbuttoned his belt and reached into his trousers drawing out his cock, which much to his surprise was thick and hard in her hands. She turned then and dropped to her knees in front of him presenting her haunches to him, arching her back in such a way as to spread herself wide for him.

He sunk down behind her and before his mind could even register it he was buried balls deep in her. She felt both shockingly cold and oddly warm and he groaned with the unexpected pleasure of it. She pushed back onto him, fucking herself on his dick, rocking back and forth, setting the pace, her pace. Peter seemed unable to move and knelt there looking down as she used his cock to pleasure herself, moaning and groaning as she fucked herself, as she fucked him. It was all too much for Peter, the fear and the arousal swirling in him at the same time and he came, shooting his load into her wanton body and as he did she let out this ear piercing screech and impaled herself on him as if she was trying to get him as deep inside her as possible.

Peter fell forward into his hands panting, sweat trickling down his face. Suddenly he realised she was standing in front of him. She was wearing the black coat again and smiling down at him, her face seemed to be glowing slightly or maybe it was the moonlight

“Thank you Mister, I am so glad you could help me” she giggled and then turned and disappeared into the darkness, seemingly taking the moonlight with her.

The fear rushed up and hit Peter right in his chest; he scrambled to his feet and dashed back to his car. Jumping into the drivers seat and locking the door behind him. He turned the key and the moment the engine kicked in his pressed the accelerator. The car leapt into action beneath him. He drove as fast as he could taking the bends in the middle of the road but then out of the blue he saw the sign he had been searching for.

The Stone Creek Hotel.

He could have sworn he had been down this road before but the sign was big and lit, there was no way you could drive past it and not see it. Anyway he didn’t care any more he just wanted to be there and so he turned the car into the drive and followed it up towards the building.

Good evening Sir, How can I help you? ask the man on the reception desk

“I, umm, well” Peter stammered

“Are you Ok Sir, you look rather pale. Did you have trouble finding us?”

I, yes, a bit, and then, well I saw a….” Peter was lost for words “I have a reservation” he finally blurted out

“Oh excellent Sir. Name?”

“Peter Hollis”

“Ahh yes Mr Hollis, we have put you in our best room. It has the grandest of views and the most beautiful antique four-poster bed for you to recov… sleep in. But maybe a drink first Sir, you look like you could do with a drink.”

“Umm, well I suppose so” mumbled Peter.

“Here is Frasier.” the man behind the desk said indicating the young man who was walking towards them.

“Frasier, please take Mr Hollis through the bar and get him a drink. On the house of course. He got a bit lost getting here and seems a bit shaken up. Maybe a stiff Brandy would help him.”

Frasier led the way through a large arched doorway into a wood panelled room

“So what can I get you Sir, Brandy, whisky?”

Peter looked around him, the soft light and warmth of the room instantly calmed him.

“I think just a cup of tea would be lovely.”

“Cup of tea it is then Sir, why don’t you take a seat and I will bring it over.”

Peter slumped down in one of the big leather armchairs near the fireplace and tried to make sense of what had just happened. Frasier appeared with the tea and arranged it out on the little table in front of him

“So what happened to you Sir, you look right shook up? It wasn’t Dirty Betty was it?”

“Dirty Betty?” responded Peter

“Oh yes. Story goes that she is a ghost that lives down on the lower road, likes to leap out in front of unsuspecting motorists and then convinces them to get out their car and help her. Some people say she talks about her sister being lost and some say it a child. Anyway, she lures them from the road into a nearby field and well, the rumour is she gets them to do very dirty things to her Sir. Hence the name Dirty Betty. There are various theories about who Betty was but no one really knows. I’ve never seen her, always look out for her though, she sounds kinda fun to me” he chuckled.

“So was it Dirty Betty you saw?” Frasier asked with an expectant look on his face.

“What? Oh no, nothing like that. It was a Deer, shot out in front of the car, scared the life out of me” lied Peter.

“Ahhh yes, A Deer, they can be a bugger that way. Anyway Sir, I will leave you to enjoy your tea, just ding the bell if you need anything else.”

“Thank you Fraiser.”

“Oh and Sir…”

“Yes?”

“Your flies, they seem to be undone.”