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A Naughty Christmas Carol	By : Blacksheep Category: Misc Books > Het Views: 1052 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based on a Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens. No profit is being made from this story.

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Stave 4: The Last Of The Spirits
The bell struck twelve.
Scrooge looked about him for the Ghost, and saw it not. As the last stroke ceased to vibrate, he remembered the prediction of old Jacob Marley, and lifting up his eyes, beheld a solemn Phantom, draped and hooded, coming, like a mist along the ground, towards him.
The Phantom slowly, gravely, silently approached. When it came, Scrooge bent down upon his knee; for in the very air through which this Spirit moved it seemed to scatter gloom and mystery.
It was shrouded in a deep black garment, which concealed its head, its face, its form, and left nothing of it visible save one outstretched bony hand. But for this it would have been difficult to detach its figure from the night, and separate it from the darkness by which it was surrounded.
"I am in the presence of the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come?" said Scrooge.
The Spirit answered not, but pointed downward with its hand.
He wondered if a gorgeous woman lurked under those robes.
"Your either a bit of a tease or one I should fear more than any spectre I have seen. But as I know your purpose is to do me good, and as I hope to live to be another man from what I was, I am prepared to bear you company, and do it with a thankful heart. Will you not speak to me?"
It gave him no reply. The hand was pointed straight before them.
"Lead on," said Scrooge. "Lead on. The night is waning fast, and it is precious time to me, I know. Lead on, Spirit."
The Phantom moved away as it had come towards him. Scrooge followed in the shadow of its dress, which bore him up, he thought, and carried him along.
Despite everything, Scrooge still had a raging erection.
"Lord in Heaven. I am beginning to fear my prick will never soften," he said out loud. "That's going to be interesting when I go to work, eh? And just how am I expected to relieve myself?"
The strange entity remained silent.
"I suppose you don't have to worry about ever having to piss when one has a hardened prick."
The Spirit stopped beside one little knot of business men. Observing that the hand was pointed to them, Scrooge advanced to listen to their talk.
"No," said a great fat man with a monstrous chin,’ I don't know much about it, either way. I only know he's dead."
"When did he die?" inquired another.
"Last night, I believe."
"Why, what was the matter with him?’ asked a third, taking a vast quantity of snuff out of a large snuff box. "I thought he'd never die."
"I heard the old boy was just about to get intimate with a harlot when it happened. Couldn't get it up, you see. She laughed at him and he died of shame."
This pleasantry was received with a general laugh.
"Poor fellow! A terrible end for any man. I mean it's all very well getting it up, but getting it to STAY up - that's what counts!"
Another laugh.
"Who are they talking about?" Scrooge wondered.
The Spirit led him on further, and went into an obscure part of the town, where Scrooge had never penetrated before, although he recognised its situation, and its bad repute.
An old man, an undertaker and two women were laughing and joking.
"What odds then. What odds, Mrs Dilber.’ said the woman. ‘Every person has a right to to amorous congress."
"That's true, indeed," said the laundress. "No man more so."
"But 'e was a mean one, 'e was. That's why he couldn't rise to the occasion."
"I hope he didn't die of any thing catching," said old Joe, stopping in his work, and looking up.
"Don't you be afraid of that," returned the woman. "Didn't keep his prick hard long enough to catch anything."
They all started laughing.
"Spirit,’ said Scrooge, shuddering from head to foot. "I see, I see. The case of this unhappy man might be my own. My life tends that way, now. Merciful Heaven, what is this?"
He recoiled in terror, for the scene had changed, and now he almost touched a bed: a bare, un-curtained bed.
"Spirit,." he said, "this is a fearful place. In leaving it, I shall not leave its lesson, trust me. Let us go."
Still the Ghost pointed with an unmoved finger to the head.
"I understand you," Scrooge returned, "and I would do it, if I could. But I have not the power, Spirit. I have not the power."
The Phantom spread its dark robe before him for a moment, like a wing; and it's true form was finally revealed to him - a hideous, for want of better words, naked old hag, toothless, eyeless and with shrivelled, grey skin. He didn't dare look lower than her waist.
"Uhhh..." Scrooge gagged covering his mouth as he felt a wave of nausea. She looked just like a corpse. "Umm....pardon me," he spluttered.
The Spirit moved her bony hand and pointed to her crotch.
"Ehh, you've got to be joking me," Scrooge grimaced.
Yet despite the repulsive thing stood before him, his cock was still proudly erect. Normally such a sight would have any chap with a hard-on as limp as a wet leaf in no time. Not to mention parting with the contents of his stomach.
The Spirit pulled Scrooge close to her. He held his breath and closed his eyes.
"Spirit!’ he cried, tight clutching at her robe, "hear me. I am not the man I was. I will not be the man I must have been but for this intercourse. Why force me to ravish you if I am past all hope?"
For the first time the hand appeared to shake.
"Good Spirit,’ he pursued, as down upon the ground he fell before her: "Your nature intercedes for me, and pities me. Assure me that I yet may change these shadows you have shown me, by an altered life."
The hand trembled.
"I will honour Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year. I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future. The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me. I will not shut out the lessons that they teach. I will bed many women and live my life happy and joyful!"
In his agony, he caught the spectral hand. She sought to free it, but he was strong in his entreaty, and detained it. The Spirit, stronger yet, repulsed him.
Holding up his hands in a last prayer to have his fate reversed, he saw an alteration in the Phantom's hood and dress. It shrunk, collapsed, and dwindled down into a bedpost.
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A Naughty Christmas Carol