The exam bet 2 (M/F story)

 Sequel to last week's story.

 

The previous day, the 18-year-old student Dean had placed his classmate Chloe over his lap, giving her a bare-bottomed spanking for losing their bet over who would get the better grade – before discovering that she'd lied about her results; she had actually won the bet, but told him she hadn't, because she secretly wanted to be spanked by him. When he discovered all this, he'd promised the red-bottomed miscreant another spanking the following day, causing her to grin and give him some insincere protests.

It was now the following day, and Dean was back in Chloe's bedroom, sitting on her bed and ready to fulfil his promise. She stood before him fidgeting, toying with a strand of hair, and he could tell that she was both nervous and eager.

"Come here," he said as he waved her towards him. "I need to look at your bottom."

"You mean you WANT to look at my bottom," she teased.

"That too, of course. But I also need to see whether you're able to take another spanking already, or if we should postpone this."

"There is nothing wrong with my butt," she huffed, but obeyed.

"I'll be the judge of that," he said. He raised her skirt, wordlessly handing her the hem to hold. He placed his fingers in the waistband of her panties, quickly lowering them to her knees. She blushed at being undressed so casually, standing naked before him, but didn't protest at this treatment – nor at being turned around so that he could examine her rear. He rubbed his hand over her cheeks, pinching and squeezing here and there, which caused her to squeal and mutter indignantly.

"A bit pink," he said, "but I think you could take another spanking without problem." He smiled. "Well, we'll soon find out. You know, I think you should change into your gym clothes. Your bottom has always looked good in those shorts."

Pleased at the compliment, she shuffled over to the wardrobe to fetch her training outfit. She raised an eyebrow as she regarded him. "Are you going to leave the room while I change?" she asked pointedly. "Or at least turn around?"

"No," he said calmly. "Why would I do that?"

She shook her head, but was unable to hide her grin. There was something deliciously humiliating about the way he treated her. She pulled the shirt over her head, then unzipped her skirt and let it fall to the floor. Since her panties were still around her knees, the only thing protecting her modesty was her bra – which she quickly discarded. She could practically feel his eyes devour her as she stood there, naked as the day she was born.

She reached for a sports bra, but changed her mind. As far as she knew, she wouldn't actually be doing any exercise, and going without a bra under her gym shirt would present an appealing sight. She very much doubted Dean would object – and if he did, what would he do about it? Spank her?

She stepped out of her white cotton panties, replacing them with the dark, skimpy underwear she used for gym. Picking up her tight, dark grey gym shorts, she slipped them on, feeling them tighten over her rear. She wriggled her bottom in his direction, before slipping on the dark, sleeveless shirt she wore for gym.

She finally turned to look at Dean. Judging from the lascivious smile on his face, and the bulge in his trousers, he'd enjoyed the show just as much as she'd expected. "I've done as you asked, Dean. Now what?" she asked innocently, pretending to wonder what would happen next.

His grin widened. "Now, young lady, you're going over my knee for a good spanking."

The exam bet (M/F story)

"So, Dean, are you worried  about the upcoming exams?" Chloe said. The lanky blonde had a smirk on her face as she sat next to her classmate in the high school lunchroom.

He shrugged. "I've worked hard, now we'll see if it pays off." Dean was far from the tallest guy in class, but he had an athletic physique that many envied. His sandy hair and deep blue eyes had also earned him a few looks.

"I'll bet I'll get a better grade than you," Chloe said smugly.

"Maybe," he said noncommittally, showing no interest in continuing the conversation. He'd never cared about anyone's grades but his own, and at the age of eighteen, he expected a little more maturity from his classmates than these childish games and taunts.

"Hmph!" she frowned, annoyed that he wasn't responding to her attempts to rile him up. "How about this for a bet: if you get a better grade than me, I'll let you spank my bottom."

He stared at her, before glancing around to make sure they were not being overheard. He was about to refuse her absurd suggestion, but when he stopped and thought about it, he realized it had a certain appeal. Chloe had a very attractive bottom, and he'd often admired her too-tight gym shorts when they were out on the track – subtly, of course. He liked the thought of getting his hands on her soft cheeks, and taking her down a peg would be a welcome bonus. "And what if you get the better grade?" he asked.

"Then you'll be going over MY knee, of course," she said, smirking again. "A long and hard spanking, on the bare bottom, until you're sobbing."

He raised an eyebrow. She seemed to have thought about this a little too much, and it was an interesting glimpse into what went on in her mind. She always tried to maintain an image of purity, so it was enlightening to see a glimpse of the real person.

He thought about the offer, before eventually nodding. "It's a bet," he said. It was a risk, but one he was willing to take. The reward if he succeeded seemed worth it.


It was a week after the exams that they finally got the results, and they'd agreed to meet up at Chloe's house to compare. Before heading over, Dean opened his envelope to learn what his efforts had achieved. It turned out he'd received a B. A decent grade, and ordinarily, he'd be satisfied with it, but would it be enough? Chloe was a good student. Would he be able to take her over his knee and paint her butt red? Or would he be forced to bend over her lap, having his own backside spanked?

Envelope in hand, he walked over to her house. She grinned tauntingly at him as she opened the door and invited him inside, and they made their way to her bedroom. Her parents were out for the evening, so they knew they wouldn't be disturbed when the debt was settled.

"You've opened it already," she complained as she saw his envelope. "You've ruined the suspense."

"It was a B," managing to sound calmer than he felt. He showed her the sheet to confirm his words.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she picked up her own envelope, and Dean could feel his own heart beating in his chest. What would happen now? Had he won or lost? Who would end up receiving the promised spanking?

The pantsing (M/F story)

Ashley was heading to the classroom for the final lesson of the day, when her classmate Tricia suddenly placed a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, nerd. I need to talk to you."

Tricia was one of the high school's mean girls. Tall, blonde, curvy, and gorgeous, always in full make-up and expensively attired and manicured. Next to her, Ashley always felt flat, drab, poor, and boring. Tricia rarely spoke to her, and from the tone of her voice, Ashley suspected she wouldn't enjoy this conversation either.

"What about, Tricia?" Ashley asked, trying to keep a calm smile on her face as her heart was beating rapidly in her chest.

"You've been getting quite friendly with Lucas lately," Tricia said. Their classmate Lucas was considered one of the best-looking guys in school  – tall and athletic, with long, sandy hair, deep blue eyes, and a smile you could lose yourself in. "That's going to stop."

Ashley raised an eyebrow. "Why do you care who he's friends with? As far as I know, you two are not dating."

"Not yet, but I'm working on it," Tricia told her. "And I don't like competition, even from someone as insignificant as you."

"We're just friends!" Ashley told her, though that wasn't entirely true, at least from her side. She'd developed some feelings for the boy – most of the girls in class had – but so far, he hadn't picked up any of the hints she'd dropped. Maybe she was being too subtle, or he just wasn't interested. It was hard to tell with Lucas.

"You WERE friends," Tricia corrected her snidely.

Ashley sighed. "Come on, Tricia, aren't you being a bit silly? Trying to decide who's friends with who? We're eighteen, not eight." She wasn't entirely sure why she dared to speak up against Tricia. Maybe she'd just had enough, or Tricia had finally found something she wouldn't give up without a struggle.

"So you refuse my simple request?" Tricia shook her head. "Fine." The smile she sent Ashley as she walked away made a shiver run down the smaller girl's back. Though she didn't show it, Ashley could feel her insides twisting. Speaking up against Tricia always had a price.

She went inside the classroom. The teacher hadn't arrived yet, which was not surprising. It was still a few minutes left before class was supposed to start, and besides, Mr Matthews was often a bit late.

Lucas smiled at Ashley as she entered, and she blushed and smiled back. Briefly, she considered heeding Tricia's warning and taking her seat like a good little girl, but then she discarded the thought. For once, she wasn't going to be bullied.

She walked over to Lucas, and they were soon engaged in a pleasant conversation. Admittedly, he did most of the talking, but that was OK – she quite liked listening to his voice. Lost in his eyes, she didn't notice Tricia approaching. Nor it is likely she would have sensed danger even if she had. She expected Tricia to do something, of course, but later; on the way home from school, or on the way to school tomorrow, or at a party, or something like that. She wouldn't try something in the middle of the classroom, would she?

Unlike most of the girls in class, Ashley never wore tight jeans – she blushed at the thought of the way they'd show off her rear end. She tended to wear baggy trousers, which were a lot easier to put on. And now, when Tricia suddenly grabbed the waistband and pulled, she realized they were also a lot easier to remove.

Ashley squealed in humiliation when she realized that Tricia had not only pulled her trousers down, but her panties as well. She was nude from the waist down in the middle of the classroom. She could feel the eyes of her classmates on her naked form, and blushed so much she almost passed out. Frozen in fear at first, she eventually tried to reach down to put her clothes back on, but Tricia grabbed her hands, holding her in place. The tall blonde smiled cruelly at her victim, clearly enjoying her torment.

Ashley turned to Lucas, her eyes pleading him to help. The boy was staring in shock, just like everyone else, but in time, he regained his composure. He stepped forward, but before he could act, they heard a stern voice ring out in the classroom. "Patricia. What on Earth do you think you're doing?" They glanced at the door, where Mr Matthews had arrived.

Jane's demonstration (M/FF story)

Jane gave an annoyed sigh when she opened the refrigerator door and discovered that she was out of milk. Since she'd receive visitors in the morning and the shops were closed for the holiday, she decided she would need to borrow some from her neighbours – and that it was better to head over and ask them now than risk waking them up early if she went in the morning. She'd lived next door to Mike and Annie for almost a year, and got along very well with them. The couple were always willing to stop for a chat if they saw her while out walking.

She decided to take the shortcut through the gardens, to save herself the trouble of walking out onto the street. As she passed their living room window, Jane cast a glance inside to see whether the couple were home. What she saw stopped her dead in her tracks, and her jaw dropped as she stared with a horrified expression on her face. Annie was lying across Mike's lap, with her skirt raised and her panties around her knees, and he was spanking her bottom.

Jane could not believe her eyes. Mike was beating his wife! And they'd seemed like such a nice couple – Annie had never seemed particularly timid around her husband, or fearful of his temper…

She hurried over to the wall of the house, peeking through the window. A closer look confirmed that she really was seeing what she'd thought she saw. Annie was squirming over his lap, and her bottom was getting redder with every firm smack he delivered. He chuckled, saying something to his wife, though Jane couldn't hear what through the thick pane of glass. She slipped her phone out of her pocket and took a few pictures, in case Annie wanted to go to the police. Jane would talk to her later, let her know that her door was always open for her, and offer to give her whatever support she needed. She considered barging through the door and putting a stop to this at once, but she feared that it would only make the situation worse. Better to wait for it to end, and then have a chat with Annie later – if the vicious brute would consent to let them talk privately.

She continued to stare at the shameful scene, but when Annie turned her head and Jane could see her face, the peeper experienced her second shock of the evening. Annie did not look pained or resigned to her fate or anything of the sort – in fact, the grin on her face was wider than Mike's. Jane believed she had never seen a woman look so happy. What was going on?

Annie had started to kick her legs, and even at this distance, Jane could tell how wet the woman's crotch was. She began to suspect that she had misinterpreted the scene somewhat, and she had to examine the assumptions she'd made.

Jane had no idea how long she sat there in the bushes, watching through the window, but finally, the spanking ended. Mike helped his wife stand up, and though her bottom was scarlet and tears were pouring down her face, there was an expression of absolute bliss upon her face. She kissed her husband passionately, and when their lips finally parted, he whispered something into her ear. She grinned, turning to face the window. Standing there with her panties around her knees, one hand rubbing her burning bottom, she waved cheerfully to Jane.

Realizing that she'd been caught spying through the window when her neighbours were having an intimate moment, Jane blushed until her cheeks were redder than Annie's. She eventually realized that the best thing to do would be to head inside, apologize, and ask if they wanted to talk about what she'd seen. Of course, by the time she made the realization, she'd already run home and locked the door behind her, so it was really no longer an option; it would be far too embarrassing to go back. She'd just have to put it out of her mind for now, and deal with it some other time, when she'd calmed down.

She'd entirely forgotten about the milk, of course, but that was unsurprising.

Prefects (M/F story)

Between classes, I was patrolling the school's more secluded areas, checking to see whether there were pupils smoking, drinking, or committing other mischief. Behind the bike shed, I was surprised to see my classmate Kimberly leaning against the wall, a book in her hands. Like me, Kimberly was a prefect; she was a lanky girl with deep, dark eyes, and long, dark hair that she often kept in pigtails. Some of the teachers said she looked like an angel, and she usually had the behaviour to match.

She seemed lost to the world, and there was a slight tinge to her cheeks as she stared wide-eyed at the in the old book she was reading. I wondered what it was that could absorb her like that. She was so engrossed, she didn't notice me approaching until I was right next to her. Her head shot up, and a squeal escaped her lips. "Oh! William! H-how nice to see you," she said, trying in vain to seem calm as she hid the book behind her back.

I wondered what on Earth Little Miss Manners could be reading that would embarrass her so much, and whether it was something that was not permitted on school grounds – which would surprise me from someone like her. Curiosity overcame me, so I reached around her and grabbed the book from her hand. She made no attempt to stop me, but she seemed deeply uncomfortable.

When I looked at it, it turned out to be nothing that was against school regulations; in fact, it WAS the school regulations. One of the prefects was hiding behind the bike shed, secretly reading the rules. What was going on?

Absently, I noted that there was a bookmark in the section about corporal punishment. I raised an eyebrow as I handed it back to her. "Brushing up on the school rules? Don't worry, I can't imagine you've broken any," I said, smiling.

She grabbed the book, clutching it as if afraid I'd snatch it away from her again. Tucking it away in her bag, she turned as if she wanted to leave, but she suddenly changed her mind. "Did you know prefects at this school are authorized to sp – " She paused, blushing. "To sp – To employ corporal punishment?"

"To spank?" I said, guessing the word that had she seemed to have some trouble speaking out loud, for some reason. "Yes, that was on the rulebooks in the seventies and eighties, wasn't it? The rules were changed in the nineties, I think."

She shook her head. "No. It fell out of favour, but it's still on the books. The rules never changed."

"Huh. That's an interesting piece of trivia. Might be good for a quiz or something, that," I said, smiling gently.

She bit her lip, somewhat annoyed with how lightly I took this revelation. "But you could sp… spank people if they misbehave!" she announced, finally overcoming her difficulties with the scary word.

I shrugged. "Maybe that was acceptable in the seventies, but I cannot imagine it would fly today. Do you?"

She stared at the ground, seeming lost in thought, before suddenly meeting my gaze. "Have you ever been spanked?" she asked, once again taking me by surprise. When I shook my head, she continued, "Me neither. But have you never been curious? Or have you ever wanted to spank someone else?"

"… I can't say I've thought much about the subject," I said, wondering why in the world we were discussing this.

She regarded me thoughtfully, seeming to size me up. Finally, she came to a decision. Taking a deep breath, she said in a quiet, slightly trembling voice: "Would you spank me if I deserved it?"

The prankster (M/F story)

With one eye glancing at the morning paper, Darren stirred his teacup, placed it to his lips, and took a small sip. Suddenly, he grimaced, spitting it back into the cup before glaring at his girlfriend. "Really, Christie? Salt in the sugar bowl again? Aren't you far too old for those childish pranks?"

"Why, Darren, whatever do you mean?" the petite redhead said, batting her eyelashes and trying to look innocent. "I haven't done anything!"

"Oh, so the salt just climbed into the bowl all on its own?" he said, pouring the ruined tea into the sink and making himself a new cup. "Well, if any more salt should find itself in the sugar bowl, or any similar antics, a certain mischievous little prankster is going to find herself over my knee, having her bottom smacked. Is that clear?"

Christie started at the unexpected warning, blushing as she tried to return her boyfriend's glare. This was a new side to her gentle giant; he had never said anything like this to her before. "You're not funny," she muttered.

"Neither are you. The difference is, I'm not trying to be," he told her firmly. "I'm not joking. If you're going to act like a child, I'm going to treat you like one. And that means giving you what you deserve – a good, hard spanking."

She folded her arms in front of her chest, scoffing at his absurd threat. "You wouldn't dare."

He leaned in close, with a stern look on his face that caused her to avert her eyes and made her heart beat rapidly. "Try me and see what happens," he suggested in a cold tone.

Christie had butterflies in her stomach, and there was an unexpected tingling between her legs that told her that she should, in fact, try him and see what he would do. Part of her wanted to see more of this sterner, scarier Darren.

Wrist healed

 The good news: my wrist is healed, so I can type again.

The bad news: There's been little time to write during the Christmas season, and I've already blown through my buffer.

There will be no update this weekend, but I'm planning to spend some of my Christmas vacation writing and editing, so everything should be back to normal in the new year.

Hiatus

 I've recently had wrist surgery, which makes it hard to type. This blog is going on hiatus for a few weeks.

Linda at the nightclub (M/ff story)

Linda and Janet grinned to each other as they mingled on the dance floor. It was a lovely summer evening, and the pair were at the nightclub to drink, party, and flirt with boys. Two short, skinny, cute women with bubble butts and tiny skirts were always a popular sight. Blonde Linda placed an arm over her redhaired friend's shoulder. "Your glass is empty. Need a new one?" Janet nodded.

They were walking back to the bar, where Janet hoped she could flirt her way to another drink from one of the young men sitting there, when Linda suddenly stopped, a nervous expression spreading across her face. In front of her stood Lance, an occasional disciplinarian of hers, and he looked far from happy. The powerfully built man in his thirties was slightly less than six foot high, but when he approached them and scowled down at Linda, he towered over the little woman so that she looked like a small child. "What are you two doing here?" he asked with a voice that made both of the girls shiver. "The age limit here is twenty, last time I checked, and you're both nineteen."

"I'm dancing," Linda responded, scowling back at him. She was having fun, and she had no intention of listening to anyone asking her to behave.

"That's not what I meant, and you know that very well, little miss," he said, his voice somehow even sterner. "How did you get in?"

"I flirted with the bouncer, and he let us pass," she explained, grinning. "But what's so wrong about dancing a little?"

"What are you drinking?"

She tried to hide her glass by holding it behind her back, even though she knew it was far too late. "Soda," she responded while avoiding his gaze – Lance was a little TOO good at picking up when she was lying.

He grabbed her arm and forced her to hand him the drink. He lifted it up and sniffed the contents. The look he gave her made her bottom tingle unpleasantly. "You're also too young to be drinking spirits, Linda. That means this place can lose their liquor licence if anyone discovers it. Do you want the nightclub to close just because you can't wait for your next birthday?" Janet didn't even try to resist when he grabbed her glass as well. Even though it was empty, he could smell clearly what had been in it. "You as well?" he said, scowling at her. "You two are coming with me, and we will discuss this somewhere more private."

Linda folded her arms in front of her chest and poked her tongue up at him. "We don't want to. Me and Janet are going to continue partying."

"I wasn't asking," Lance responded calmly. With little effort, he picked her up and placed her over his shoulder. He glanced over at Janet, who took a step forward as if to show that she was a good girl and would come along without needing to be carried.

With one girl squirming on his shoulder and the other obediently following him, Lance started to move away from the crowd. Linda blushed so much she was struggling to breathe – to be scolded like a little girl in the middle of the club was bad enough, but to be placed over his shoulder and carried away like a sack of potatoes? How embarrassing! She struck her fists against his back to make him put her down, but he responded by smacking her butt with his palm, so she quickly stopped. To be carried was embarrassing, but to be slapped on the butt while everyone was watching was even worse, and she also didn't want to make him any angrier than he already was. In addition, his smacks were quite painful.

Linda's essay (M/ff story)

"I must say I was impressed by the essay you handed in on Monday, Linda," Hannah said with a big smile on her face. "Well-written, with effective arguments, and a good length. Without a doubt the best essay I’ve seen in some time!"

The nineteen-year-old grinned back at her teacher, pleased with being praised. She was far from being the best student in class, so it didn't happen often.

"In fact, I thought it was so good I had to show it to May, who's the teacher of 2D. You know, the class your friend Janet goes to?" Hannah drummed her fingers on the desk.

Linda's smile faded a little. Her heart was beating rapidly in her chest, but she did her best to look innocent.

"And you know what's strange? May had just read the same essay." Hannah folded her arms in front of her chest, raising an eyebrow. "So how is it that you and Janet handed in the same essay? Care to explain that, Linda?"

Linda shrugged. "We're quite similar, after all… so it was probably a coincidence?" she said, still wearing her most innocent expression. There was no reason not to try to bluff her way out of this, was there?

The smile that Hannah sent her student was completely devoid of her customary warmth and kindness. "Really? You should explain that to the principal. He's waiting for you in his office, and seemed very interested in hearing what you have to say."

Her classmates giggled as Linda rose with a blush on her face. Hannah did nothing to stop them, since she felt Linda deserved to hear their laughter.

As Linda walked towards the principal's office, she met Janet, who had clearly been sent there for the same reason. "You too?" Janet said quietly when she saw her friend. It was clear that she was nervous for what was about to happen; Janet never got into trouble.

"Your essay was too good," Linda said sharply as they walked down the hallway. "If it had been a little more average, they wouldn't have shown it to each other." Janet lowered her head, and Linda knew she shouldn't have said it – she was just being cruel to try to cover her own nervousness. But she still wasn't going to apologise.

Principal Rockall was a large, powerfully built and fairly scary-looking man known for maintaining strict discipline. Sitting behind his desk, he watched the two girls with a dark expression on his face, but Linda was more worried about the large wooden paddle he was holding, tapping it against his left palm. It looked very painful, and Linda didn't like the sound it made. She had a feeling she'd like the paddle even less in a few minutes.

The principal had listened to their explanation, and was not convinced. "I cannot believe you have been cheating on an essay. Two grown girls like you, supposedly adults, sneaking around like little children." He shook his head. "Do you know the punishment for cheating at this school?" Both girls nodded gloomily, but he chose to tell them anyway. "A good spanking on your bare bottoms." He placed the paddle down, pushed the chair away from his desk, and scowled at Janet. "You're the youngest, so we'll deal with you first. Come here!"

Janet approached him nervously, and stood before him like he had ordered. The principal started to unbutton her jeans, before determinedly pulling them down to her knees. He then grabbed the waistband of her underwear, and her cute, pink little panties were also lowered. Janet blushed, ashamed of being undressed like this, and the tears rolled down her face before he'd even started to spank her.

Principal Rockall picked up the half-naked woman as if she was a small child and placed her over his lap. She made no attempts to resist, and lowered her head in despair when he began to rub her naked, quivering bottom. "I hope this teaches you honesty," Rockall declared while lifting his hand over his head.

The ghost girl 2 (M/FF story)

It was my second day in the sleepy little Polish town whose name I could neither remember nor spell. The night before, I had taken a shortcut through the town's ancient graveyard, where I had encountered the ghost of a beautiful young woman. The maiden, whose name was Krystyna, told me that she still felt guilty about her disobedience to her parents in life, preventing her from reaching her eternal rest. To my surprise, she asked me to quieten her conscience by taking her over my knee and spanking her. I obliged, giving her the long, hard, bare-bottomed spanking she told me she needed.

After the spanking, the girl turned to mist in the middle of a wonderful kiss, and I stumbled into the nearest bar, where I learned from the woman working there that I wasn't the first young man to see the spirit – nor the first to place her over my lap. In fact, it had happened quite often; despite what she had said, it was for her enjoyment, nor her salvation. The bartender suggested that I should visit the spirit again the next night to punish her for deceiving me, and I readily agreed with the suggestion.

In the evening, I returned to the lovely little bar, which was just as quiet as the night before. The young woman behind the counter was not the one I’d met the night before. "Hello. Is –" I was about to ask where she was, when I realized I hadn't actually asked for her name.

The bartender smiled, calling out over her shoulder. "Teresa!" This was followed by a string of Polish that I assumed, based on no evidence whatsoever, meant something like "That guy you mentioned is here!" What luck – now I had her name!

The young, dark-haired woman from last night emerged from the back. "There you are! You are going to face the ghost again, yes?"

I nodded. "You said you were going to lend me something?"

With a smile, she placed her hand in her pocket, pulling out a large, old wooden hairbrush. "I think this will be very effective," she said. There was a strange gleam in her eye as she handed it to me. "This hairbrush can really sting a young woman's bare bottom."

I looked at it, tapping it against my palm. "Thank you. I believe it will." I glanced at my watch. "Almost midnight. Do you think she'll be there?"

Teresa nodded. "She often shows up around this time.” She placed her hand on my arm. “Do not forget to return here afterwards so you can tell your story – and give me the hairbrush."

"Don't worry, I'll return it," I promised, before heading out.

The graveyard was not far away. I entered, but as I started walking around, glancing at the tombs and looking for the mischievous spirit, I was almost certain I heard footstep behind me. Was it the sounds of the ghost I was looking for? Another phantom entirely? Something else? Or just my imagination? I tried to stare into the night, but saw nothing.

It was a chill night, and I wrapped my coat tighter around me. The moon was up, so it was not completely dark, but trying to find a ghost the colour of marble among the statues was not an easy task. I glanced at my watch again. I had been out here for forty minutes and hadn't seen a sign of her. "Krystyna! Where are you?" I called out in frustration.

"You are looking for me?" I heard a teasing whisper in my ear. I spun around to find the girl behind me, grinning. "Adam! How nice to see you again!"

"What happened to your eternal rest?" I commented drily.

She shrugged. "Eventually, maybe. For now, I live – in a manner of speaking, of course."

"You didn't ask me to spank you to quieten your conscience! You enjoyed it, didn't you?"

She nodded. "Of course – and so did you! Do not think me so innocent that I do not know what poked me in the belly when I was over your lap." She grinned impishly. Noticing my expression, she sighed. "Adam, why are you being angry? I was happy, you were happy – why so unhappy now?"

"You lied to me!" I told her. "You deliberately misled me."

"Yes, I did," she said, grinning even wider and clapping her hands. "Oh, what fun!"

"Well, I think you need to be disciplined for your deception," I said, pulling out the brush and tapping it against my palm.

Krystyna gasped, both hands in front of her mouth, before smiling blissfully. "Oh, Adam! For me? How lovely!"