Voyeurism

Summary: Some things are just not meant to be seen.

Description: Okay, let's see . . . Het+Oral, D/S, Bond, Voy, Femme+Nec, Toys, Preg, Ship

Timeline: Late Summer 1987

Rating: NC-17; for adult language, themes, and content

Disclaimer: This story is of my own creation and therefore my intellectual property, but I do not own the Filmation Ghostbusters nor do I profit from their use in this story. I put a little oomph into these characters, but they’re mostly true to canon and no copyright infringement is intended. My purpose is one of philosophical fulfillment: ite,ite, therefore I am. Besides, they’re such ‘straights’, I love making them act naughty! Heh . . . “love making” . . . heh. ;-)

Author’s Notes: This story was just something that kinda came to me. I wanted to see if I could take the FGBs (silly HQ, bad puns, absurd villains and all) and write a decent smutty fic. A personal challenge to myself, I guess. Then I saw the September 2003 challenge on the Hetskateers yahoo group and, for the second time, found myself taking an already existing story to a whole other level thanks to one of Kel’s challenges. Thanks Kelinator! You never cease to inspire me!

We had the kind of night where morning comes too soon. We used the light from a flickering candle across the room To make the kind of shadows that only one thing could make . . . love.

--- Janet Jackson, “Janet” (Virgin Records Ltd. 1993)

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Haunt Quarters. A vile place filled with some of the most contemptible villains the afterlife had ever born witness to. Throughout the ages, the legions of Prime Evil had committed unspeakable acts against the living. It was only the advent of the age of Ghostbusting that had slowed the powerful spirit’s reign of terror to a crawl.

“Ghostbusters.” The red-robed necromancer sat brooding upon his throne. “Filthy, meddling . . . Ghostbusters.” Their name was so abhorrent; he spit it out like phlegm. “How long must I endure you?”

His constant companion Brat-a-Rat floated in to greet him. “Good morning, your evilness!” the little rodent ghost squeaked. “What a wonderfully rotten day it is!”

“Silence fool! There is nothing wonderful about a day in which those accursed . . . Ghostbusters still draw breath!”

Having known his master for centuries, Brat-a-Rat should have known when to beat a hasty retreat. Some ghouls were just gluttons for punishment.

“I have an idea, great one! The Ghostbusters are mortal. Why don’t we just wait for t|o dto die? It should only be another five or six decades at the most!”

Prime Evil stared down at his servant and sneered. “Don’t you think I’ve thought of that, you imbecile?!? They may be mortals, but with their ability to travel through time and their irritating habit of passing their business down to their children, we’ll never be rid of them! Why that blasted woman Futura is proof that Ghostbusting is still alive and flourishing even a thousand years from now! If you wish to be punished feel free to make another stupid suggestion!”

The little rat ghost hastily floated several yards away from his master. This afforded him little comfort that he might avoid being hit. “Uh . . . I’m sorry, great master of menace! I was only trying to help!”

“Well next time, don’t!” Prime Evil took careful aim and tried to blast the flying rat, but Brat-a-Rat dodged the blow. Poor Scared Stiff, who had just entered the throne room, caught the full brunt of it instead. The robot ghost immediately fell all to pieces . . . literally.

“AHHHH! What did I do?” he whined in his trembly falsetto.

“Scared Stiff!” Prime Evil bellowed. “Pull yourself together and come here!”

“Y-Yes boss!” The robot’s scattered body parts floated up and recombined into a humanoid form. He hesitantly approached his master’s throne. “What can I d-d-do for you?” He was shaking from head to toe. His metal body rattled noisily. It was annoying, but Prime Evil had become accustomed to it, lucky for Scared Stiff!

“I want you to spy on the home of the Ghost . . . bunglers using my Bone-troller. Find out their weaknesses. There must be something that we can use against them!”

“But boss, we’ve never been able to spy on them at home before! There’s an anti-psychokinetic wall around Ghost Command! The Bone-troller can’t view within it!”

“DON’T GIVE ME EXCUSES, YOU BLUNDERING BUCKET OF BOLTS!” Scared S imm immediately came apart again, terrified at the violent tone of his master’s voice. “For Hades’ sake, pull yourself together, lout!”

The ghost again levitated his individual parts and reaffixed them to his torso. “I’ll get right to work, boss.” And with that, Scared Stiff fled from his master’s sight. He went to the great hall and immediately began to make adjustments to the Bone-troller, making mechanical modifications to try to allow for viewing of the interior of Ghost Command. For once, he was thrilled with his master’s orders. Prime Evil would never blast him while he was working on the Bone-troller. He puttered away happily, and very slowly.