People say the studio where Oprah Winfrey shoots her
top rated talk show is haunted. But people talk.
People spread rumors. There no such things as ghosts
or anything supernatural, right? Tell that to the
janitors who have had to clean the studio at night.
Janitors who have quit after one night or went
completely insane. Well, I don’t know what you can say
to the ones who’ve gone insane or even what they can
say…
Rumors have gone on since not long after Oprah first
started her talk show. Former janitors have said that
after midnight strange music seems to flow from under
the studio. But there is nothing under the studio…
No basement. No storage area. No sewers. Nothing. It
was built from the ground up. It’s no wonder some of
them went insane.
If you heard spooky organ music coming from out of
nowhere you might, too… The studio paid no attention
to the stories. They had no time for such lunacy nor
would they waste any money to investigate. They just
decided to start hiring hearing impaired. End of
story.
Believe or not, Oprah is a very superstitious person.
A very sexy, full-bodied, big-titted, huge-butted,
jiggly-thighed superstitious person. But she is a very
adventurous, ‘stare the supernatural in the face’
person. It makes her wet. Over the years Oprah had a
lot of ‘supernatural sex’ if you could call it that.
She once fucked in a graveyard. Her moans and orgasmic
shrieks made any people who heard think she was some
kind of spirit or demon.
Another time Oprah was gang-banged in a haunted house
[she outlasted all the guys and still wanted more]. So
now you know Oprah is superstitious, supernaturally
adventurous, and loves to fuck. But she never really
had a supernatural encounter. Maybe her sexual shrieks
of pleasure spooked the spooks? Not finding anything
never stopped our luscious-bodied Oprah from
continuing to be superstitious [you can blame her
grandmamma for that, all the stories she filled
Oprah’s head with as a child and as a teen] nor stop
trying to find the unknown [plus the sex was the
best].
Oprah had heard the rumors of the studio being haunted
but never found anything when she investigated. Then
again, she’d only did so during the day… It never
occurred to Oprah that there was a supernatural reason
the uncanny organ music only played after midnight. It
had been a long, long time since Oprah had
investigated and had long since forgotten [with the
hearing impaired janitors on duty the rumors and
stories had long since dried up] all about it.
Oprah had grown much since that time, grown wiser,
grown richer of course, and grown a hell of a lot
sexier. Still, time had not taken away her appetite
for the unknown. If the studio was truly haunted,
Oprah would find out tonight, though she had no plans
to do so… Oprah had stayed on set late. She had
things to do. A woman of her stature’s work was never
done. She was in her office and lost track of the
time. When the clock on her wall chimed midnight Oprah
didn’t really pay it any mind. But after the chiming
ceased…
Oprah stopped what she was doing. She cocked her head
to the side and listened intently. At first she
thought it was her imagination; but the sound rose
slowly. As it grew louder Oprah realized it was organ
music. That’s strange, she thought. There wasn’t any
organ in the studio. Oprah was confused at first. She
didn’t then remember the stories. Oprah got up from
her desk and went out into the hallway, seeking the
source of the music. Its eerie quality made the hairs
stand up on her neck, but the supernatural hadn’t
occurred to her just yet…
Oprah came across the janitor waxing the floor but
didn’t bother to interrupt. The music seemed to come
from everywhere; it wasn’t growing louder but
something drew her to the backstage area she rarely
entered, not at all in a very long time. Oprah started
to sense something was off. She now felt it. That old
excitement. Oprah found her breathing was irregular.
Her black-haired pussy grew moist. Oprah snapped her
fingers. That was it! she thought.
The rumors and stories of the studio being haunted
returned to Oprah. She grinned to herself. This place
really has to be haunted, she thought, biting her lip
excitedly. She didn’t know what she hoped to find
backstage but she found herself drawn here… It was
dark and dingy back there, props unused in years among
other long discarded items. Oprah found an old storage
room in the far back corner. She tried the knob. It
turned she opened the door slowly. It creaked loudly
and the smell of decay assaulted her.
Still Oprah was too excited and nervous to notice.
Oprah felt, sensed something here… She walked into
the room. The door slammed behind her. She moaned and
without thinking rubbed her pussy through her skirt.
Suddenly there was a noise and the back wall slid
open. Torch light revealed a stone passage heading
downward. But – but that’s impossible! Oprah thought
wide-eyed, rubbing her leaking pussy harder. Being
adventurous as she was, Oprah thought nothing of any
possible danger and pressed forward…
As she began to descend the stone stairs, all she
could hear was the sounds of her low heels clicking on
the stone, her rapid breathing pulsing in her ears and
the music growing louder now. The stairs spiraled down
and down until Oprah entered a chamber as big as the
studio above her. Torch light stabbed into the gloom
as Oprah tried to locate the source of the music.
Water dripped down somewhere, adding to the eerie
feeling. The place looked utterly new, as if it were
only just built, but felt ancient.
The feeling of how old the place felt permeated her.
As she walked through what she thought of as some kind
of catacomb, she realized the far wall housed many
smaller chambers, each one dimly lit than the one she
was in. Oprah chose the one the music seemed to
emanate from. Her nipples tingled now and her pussy’s
juices soaked her pantyhose. Oprah now wished she’d
worn panties, she’d blown a lot of money on these hose
she thought to herself briefly.
Upon entering the new chamber she saw the massive, old
fashioned organ against the far wall, its long ornate
pipes snaking up the wall. Ornate candle stands stood
on either side of the organ and now Oprah could see
its player. He was shrouded by a long black hooded
cloak, only his hands visible as he played. Oprah
moved forward, unable to stop. “W-who are you?” She
asked boldly. He suddenly stopped playing. He rose and
turned to her, his hands disappearing into his flowing
black garb, his face hidden within the shadows of his
hood. “You know who I am,” came a ghastly voice, a
voice vaguely familiar…
“I don’t…” Oprah lied, her fear matched by her
horniness, her pussy flowing like a river between her
full, sexy thighs, her nipples aching.
“How can you forget…” He raised his hands and tore
back the hood. “The man you spurned decades ago?!?” He
roared, the walls seeming to quake around them.
Oprah gasped. “Vincent?!?” She knew it was him despite
the changes.
He had been her personally assistant so long ago, a
tall, handsome man, neat blonde hair, blue eyes, well-
muscled. He had proclaimed his love to her, but she
only saw him as her assistant and friend. Now his hair
was long and jet-black, his eyes a flaming red, his
lips as red as blood, his face, still Vincent’s, but
also that of a demon’s. Despite his changes, Oprah was
one turned on than ever.
Those who’d seen her naked knew Oprah had massive
nipples, when they became hard, they were the longest,
hardest, thickest. That was apparent as Oprah’s
nipples pressed out against her specially made bra for
a mammoth titties and her light grey turtleneck as if
all she had on was a paper-thin t-shirt.
“I loved you,” The Vincent demon went on. “I saved my
virginity for you. And you spurned me… I was ready
to die for you. But he came. He promised you would be
mine. I sold him my soul. And he made me into… this.
The price of my wager. This is my new home,” He
gestured all around him.
He added with a chuckle “The Devil has a fondness for
Lon Chaney’s Phantom Of The Opera… Every night at
the stroke of midnight this place materializes under
your studio, and I must play this hideous music. But
finally you have come to me. Finally I will have what
is mine…” The Vincent demon tore open his cloak.
Oprah gasped and gripped her convulsing pussy. “Oh my
god!” She exclaimed. His body was more man than demon.
But his manhood… well, it was more ‘demonhood’.
Oprah had fucked some large cocks in her time. But
this… His cock was about fifteen inches long. And
very thick. His huge, huge balls hung down below his
demonic appendage, swollen, full of demon cum. Oprah
had never been so turned on in her life.
She began tearing off her clothes and quickly was
naked before Vincent. He never imagined Oprah’s body
was this amazing… His cock throbbed at the sight. He
easily picked her up and carried her out of the
chamber into the next. Oprah clung to him tightly, her
body writhing against him wantonly.
The only thing in the next chamber was a large bed
covered in black silk sheets. “I’ve waited so long for
this…” He said throatily. He laid Oprah on the bed.
She spread her legs moaning, presenting her wet, hairy
pussy for him. He grunted and mounted her. Grabbing
his cock he slid it into her. She shrieked and clung
to him. Uncertain, Vincent began moving in and out of
her slowly. Oprah was able to take over ten inches of
his cock at first. As he grew more confident and began
pumping into her he got over thirteen up in her.
Oprah began to orgasm quickly, the most massive
orgasms of her life. She came often as he fucked her
pussy well. They fucked for over an hour before he
unloaded his demon seed inside Oprah. He pulled out,
their combined juices oozing off his cock.
“You’re not done already, are you lover?” Oprah said
sultrily, kneading her giant tits.
He flashed her a demonic smile. “Never…”
Oprah grinned back then rolled over onto her hands and
knees. She wiggled her large butt enticingly.
Vincent leered at the sight a few moments before
slamming his cock back into her. Oprah gasped in
surprise. This time he was able to get his full length
up her. He fucked her hard and deep for over a half
hour when he decided he want more. He slid his cock
out and told her to spread her butt cheeks. “Oh, shit,
I haven’t had it up the ass in ages…” She moaned.
She did as he said and he began working his cock into
her rectum.
Oprah was surprised how easily he slid up into her,
she guessed by demonic magic. Still, her anus was a
tighter fit than her pussy. He began to fuck her butt
hard making Oprah multi-orgasm over and over. He
fucked her butt a good forty-five minutes before he
dumped another load up her butt.
This went on and on through the night, Vincent fucking
her in every position, in her pussy, butt, and even
her mouth. They laid there in the early morning hours,
Oprah looking satisfied and thoughtful. Finally she
turned to her demon lover. “Do you think your boss
would strike a deal with me?”