Could you take it? (M/F story)

I was supposed to publish the sequel to last week's story today, but due to being busier than usual, I haven't had time to write it. Instead, I've taken one from my buffer, and will finish the other story in time before next weekend.

“I’m glad you could come, Laura,” Charles said, waving the teacher into his office. There was something about the principal's tall, slim form, his hook-nose, and his thin mouth that gave the suggestion of cruelty, but this was more than made up for by his kind eyes. His dark hair had begun to turn grey at the temples, and he was always impeccably dressed, a sign of his belief in being a good role model for his students and staff.

Laura was almost as tall as her boss, had long, curly red hair, and the dimples suggested that she laughed loud and often, which was true. She had never even attempted to match his dress sense, preferring a more casual look. She gave Charles a bright smile as she entered. “I always have time for the principal. You know that.” She sat down in the chair in front of his desk. “What was it you wanted?”

Returning to his seat, Charles looked thoughtfully at his newest employee. wondering how to begin. “You’ve sent a lot of students here to be paddled in the months you’ve been here.”

She nodded. “I do not tolerate disrespect, and it’s important to establish your authority when you’re new. These girls are always trying to get you to lose control.”

“I understand that, but I think you’re relying too much on the threat of the paddle in order to secure your legitimacy," he said, opening the discipline journal and giving it a quick glance. “What was it – three this week? How many last week? Looking at it, I’m not sure there’s a single girl in your class who hasn’t been sent to my office at least once during the autumn.” He closed the journal. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t get them to respect you – these teenagers can be very ill-behaved and are always trying to push you – but I think you need some other ways to achieve it, and some alternative punishments when needed.”

“Like writing lines and sending them to the corner? Please, Charles. They just roll their eyes at that stuff. They don’t roll their eyes at a paddling – at least not afterwards,” she said with a grin. “It’s quick, harmless, and effective.” She shrugged. “I’d prefer to paddle them myself – it would be a good lesson for their classmates – but since that’s not an option…”

Charles looked thoughtfully at her. “Laura, were you ever paddled in school? Or at home?”

Laura shook her head. “My parents didn’t believe in it, and it wasn’t allowed at my school.”

“I thought not. If you had, you probably wouldn’t treat it so lightly. It might not be a big deal for you, but it is for them, I can assure you.”

She scoffed. “What, a few pops of the board on their panties? Oh, please. There’s no permanent damage – just a brief sting. You don’t think I could have taken ten swats without crying when I was eighteen?”

He raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think you could do that NOW, never mind when you were a hormonal teenager.”

“Of course I could,” she insisted.

“Laura, you’re talking with great confidence about something of which you have no experience whatsoever – which is exactly my point.”

She grinned. “Then I have a bet for you. My suggestion: I take ten swats of the board, just like one of the misbehaving girls here. If I can do it without sobbing, you’ll let me use the paddle in the classroom whenever and however I wish.”

The ghost girl (M/F story)

It was a chilly night in October. I had been traveling by train through Central Europe, and earlier that day, I had stopped in a small Polish town that I'd already forgotten the name of. I was heading back to the hotel after a long day exploring the sights, and I decided to take a shortcut through the town's graveyard.

To my surprise, I found myself somewhat on edge as I walked through the graveyard under the light of the full moon. I had never considered myself a superstitious man, but there was still something unsettling about the statues and tombs around me. Compared to the simple, unadorned cemeteries back home, it looked like the setting of a horror movie. I spotted one particularly life-like marble sculpture of a crying girl, which was so realistic that I almost imagined that I could hear her weeping.

Suddenly, I realized that I COULD, in fact, hear weeping. Then, the statue moved.

It was a young woman, about twenty years old or so. No woman alive could have skin that pale, and when she looked in my direction, her sorrowful gaze revealed eyes from beyond the grave. There was no doubt that I was looking at a ghost.

My eyes widened. This couldn't be happening, could it? I was face to face with the living dead. The hair on my arms stood up, and I shivered, but the girl did not seem inclined to attack me. If anything, she almost seemed scared of me.

Taking a deep breath to calm my nerves, I did the only thing I could think of: I held out my hand to the grieving girl. "Hi, I'm Adam. Are you OK?"

The girl stared at me. A smile briefly graced her lips, before she reached out to shake my hand. Her touch was like a cold breeze. "I'm Krystyna," she said, her voice a strangely echoing whisper. I found her soft accent curiously alluring. "You are the first man I can remember who does not run away at the sight of me."

"I don't make a habit of running away from pretty ladies," I told her, earning me another smile. "Is everything alright?" I asked. Stupid question, I guess – she was dead!

"I… I cannot rest," she admitted, staring mournfully out across the cemetery. "I was foolish in life, and I still pay for it in death."

"Foolish how?"

She stared at the ground at her feet. "I never listened to my parents. Always thought I knew better than them. Never took their advice." Her eyes moistened again, and she blinked rapidly to clear them. "They told me not to go to the party when there was a storm coming, and I went. They told me to at least wear a jacket, and I did not." There was a pause, before she managed to continue. "That night, tired and cold, with a bottle of liquor in my hand, I passed away on the cold ground."

She shivered at the memory, and I instinctively took my jacket off and placed it over her shoulders. That seemed to wake her from her daze, and she grinned as she handed it back.

"Clothing does not warm the dead," she pointed out. "But thank you. You are a good man."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

She seemed thoughtful. "I was never sufficiently punished for my disobedience – for my foolishness. I was sometimes bent over the knee for my mother's spoon or my father's belt, but not often enough. If I was, I would not have behaved like that. And I was never punished for my final misbehaviour." Her eyes brimmed with tears again.

"You froze to death," I pointed out. "Sounds like you've been punished more than enough."

She shook her head. "No. That is not the same as loving discipline – that was just cold and careless consequences. I need to be taken in hand, to be corrected and cared for." She looked at me, examining me for a few seconds before making her decision. "Adam, will you take me over your knee and spank me?"

The haunted graveyard (M/F story)

Nicki did her best to hide her trembling as she entered the old, overgrown graveyard. She did not think anyone was watching her, but if any of her classmates were hiding in the bushes, they'd see a brave woman going off to laugh in the face of fear.

The cemetery in the woods near the college had a lot of stories attached to it. Some of the students liked to hang out there for short, private make-out sessions between classes, or heavier activities after the end of the school day. But even the darkest of the goths cleared out before midnight – there were rumours that the place was haunted.

Well, Nicki did not believe those rumours, and she'd done little to hide her disdain for the people who spread them. Finally, some of her classmates had challenged her: if she could spend the night in the graveyard, she would not have to buy another drink for the rest of the semester. If she got scared and ran away, she would have to pay for the girls' rounds for the next month. Nicki had accepted the offer without hesitation.

Of course, it's easy to scoff at ghost stories when you're standing in a bright college hallway in the middle of the day. When you're wandering around an ancient, isolated graveyard shortly before midnight, it's a lot harder. And even if there weren't any ghosts, there could be wild animals in places like these – or maybe even more human dangers. A college girl alone at night could be viewed as easy prey, and she began to wonder if she'd rather encounter a bear…

She started at something that might have been the sound of a twig snapping. Was there something out there?

She shook her head, doing her best to dislodge those thoughts. That kind of speculation would only worry her unnecessarily, and she would prefer to focus on all those beers the other girls would be buying for her.

She sat down on the ground, resting her back against a tombstone that was too old and worn to read, and took the book out of the pocket. It was a collection of Poe stories, which she'd decided seemed appropriate in the circumstances. If she was going to spend the night here, she didn't want to be bored. She'd brought a lantern to read by – it was easier than holding a flashlight, and also more fitting.

As she started to read, she glanced at her watch, noticing that midnight had arrived. "Well, then, ghosts. Do your worst!" she declared boldly into the night.

"As you wish," a chilling voice whispered in her ear.

Halloween in the cemetery (M/F story)

It was Halloween, midnight was only half an hour away, and Zoe was wandering around in the town's old graveyard. Goosebumps rose on her arm as she glanced at the nearby tombstones. Just a few more minutes, and the most magical time of the most magical night of the year would be here. She could wander around in this spooky atmosphere for –

A hand landed on her shoulder, and she screeched in terror. Oh no! The monsters had got her!

She spun around, breathing a sigh of relief when she saw it was just her boyfriend Thomas.

"Are you really still here, Zoe?" Thomas sounded tired. She nodded eagerly. "What exactly is it you hope will happen?"

"I'll catch a glimpse of some ghastly ghosts and ghoulies," she whispered breathlessly. "And goblins! And… other things beginning with G, probably."

He raised an eyebrow. "You're twenty-three. Aren't you too old for this sort of thing?"

"I'll never be too old for ghoulies," she said, pouting, before folding her arms in front of her chest and glaring at him. Why did he always try to ruin her fun with things like logic?

"Well, I don't want you out here all night. You have classes tomorrow, remember?"

"I'll skip them," she said breezily.

"Oh really?" he said with a stern look that made her backside tingle unpleasantly.

"Eh… I mean… " Zoe quickly backtracked. When Thomas had that expression on his face, it usually meant she would end up with a sore bottom unless she treaded carefully. "I'll DEFINITELY go to my classes tomorrow. I won't up be THAT late." She could tell that he was wavering, and quickly pressed her advantage. "Come on, Thomas. It's only Halloween once a year, right?"

He thought about it. "Well. We can stay here half an hour, but we go home at midnight. You need to go to bed soon, or you'll fall asleep in class again."

She pouted. "But midnight is when it all begins! We have to stay here at least until one o'clock – the full midnight hour!"

"We leave at midnight," he repeated, once again using his stern voice. "This is not up for discussion, Zoe."

"As you wish," she said sweetly, smiling at him. She was sure that once midnight arrived, he'd see her point of view. It would be cruel to take her home just when the magic begun, wouldn't it?

October stories

 I've decided to have another theme month this October - for the spooky season, all four stories I upload this month will feature ghosts and/or graveyards. One will be a stand-alone story, one will feature characters from previous stories, and the fourth story will be a sequel to the third.