Shadow Lane Volume 4: The Chronicles of Random Point, Spanking, Sex, B&D and Anal Eroticism in a Small New England Village. Eve Howard

the week of the pageant she acquitted herself admirably, turning the school auditorium into Santa’s Workshop. Jessie’s class contributed some of the snowflakes. And of course, Peter played holiday songs while the children sang.

      “You did an excellent job on the decorations, Lorna,” Lionel complimented her that afternoon after all of the children had departed for the Christmas holidays. “Will you let me buy you an eggnog at the Inn to celebrate your brilliant achievement?” he asked courteously, which thrilled her to the core.

      “Thank you, Lionel,” she agreed at once and they walked down the cold, windswept streets of Random Point towards the ancient Bone and Feather Inn.

      Two eggnogs later, Lorna was giggling in a red leather booth with Lionel.

      “How do you plan to spend the holidays?” he asked her casually.

      “I’m going to spend the whole time painting,” she confided.

      “Oh really? What kind of painting do you do?”

      “I paint in various styles. Right now I’m in my abstract impressionist phase.”

      “That’s interesting,” he said with surprise, for the last thing he expected Lorna to say was something interesting about herself. “I’d like to see your work.”

      “Follow me home in your car and I’ll show you some of it,” she suggested. Lionel almost smiled. This was going better than he expected.

      “Where do you live?” he asked as they left the pub and emerged into the rain again.

      “I have a studio in the old lighthouse,” she told him, unfurling her black umbrella as they walked back to their cars. Now Lionel was really intrigued. He’d imagined that Lorna lived with her parents.

      Lorna’s studio above the pounding surf seemed to Lionel the perfect setting for a seduction. When they arrived she gave him a brandy then went into her bedroom to change into a pair of black Capri pants, a cream silk tunic and black leather flats. Her autumnal colored page boy was perfectly silky and straight, the sort of hair that women never worried about disarranging because it always fell right back into place. She really was a striking young lady, he reflected when she sat down beside him on the divan.

      “Well? Do you like any of them?” Lorna gestured around the room to the many oils, watercolors, charcoals, crayon sketches and cartoons that lined the richly painted walls of her studio.

      “You’re very accomplished,” he remarked truthfully, his respect deepening for Lorna as he realized that she was anything but ordinary.

      “Thank you.”

      Lionel waited until she finished her tumbler of brandy before making his move, which was to take her in his arms and kiss her.

      Lorna was powerfully attracted to Lionel and had been since the first day they met, the year before. But unlike Jessie, Lorna was coolheaded and quite able to marshal her passions when her common sense sounded an alarm. This was exactly what happened when Lionel began to unbutton her tunic in order to fondle her small and perfectly formed bosom.

      “I’m sorry,” she said firmly, pushing his hand away and escaping from his embrace, “but there’s only so far I’m willing to go on a first date.”

      “Here we go,” thought Lionel with a sigh. And her artistic sensibilities had given him such high hopes the moment before.

      “Okay, I’ll say good night then,” he replied shortly, getting to his feet.

      “But, I didn’t mean for you to leave,” she suddenly said, perversely inflamed by his coldness.

      “No?” He sat back down.

      “Cigarette?” she offered him one and he accepted. She lit his then her own and regarded him thoughtfully before speaking again. “Don’t be sullen just because you can’t get your lust-engorged member wet tonight,” she suddenly shocked him by saying. “Instead you ought to remember the adage, ‘All good things come to those who wait.’”

      “How long do I have to wait?” he demanded, looking at her with increased respect.

      “I’ll let you know when I decide.”

      Lionel didn’t know now whether to go or stay. Normally a situation like this would frustrate him so badly that all he would want to do was get away from the offending female. But somehow, sex or no sex, he didn’t quite feel like leaving Lorna yet.

      “I’ll take another brandy while you’re thinking it over,” he told her, handing her his empty glass. As she walked past him toward the pantry he deliberately smacked her on the bottom. Lorna gasped and turned to look at him with a vivid blush, which he duly noted. She refilled his glass and took a long pull on hers as she came to sit beside him again.

      Was it an illusion, Lionel wondered, or did that one, sharp smack do something to Lorna? She’d become very quiet and wide-eyed all at once.

      “You know, giving you a good, sound spanking would be as satisfying as anything to me,” Lionel proposed, surprising himself as much as Lorna. But the truth was that ever since the week before with Jessie, the thrill of spanking had lingered in his mind, blending in quite comfortably with his aggressive notions about sex.

      “A spanking?” She did not sound affronted in the slightest. “You mean, over your knee?”

      “That’s right, over my knee. For being a little tease.”

      “I am not a tease!”

      “You wore four-inch heels to school today, Lorna. Because you wanted every male in the building to follow those long legs wherever you went.”

      “I simply like to dress smartly,” she said, still blushing furiously at the promised trip across Lionel’s knee.

      “Who do you think you’re kidding?” Lionel took her gently by the forearm and pulled her across his lap, astonished that she didn’t resist.

      Lorna wondered whether Lionel had also spanked Jessie and that was the reason the pretty blonde teacher had evinced such a dislike for him. Lorna had never had a man offer to spank her before, but she found she didn’t mind the idea. She had always thrilled to spankings in the movies when the disciplinarian was a handsome leading man. Lionel was certainly handsome. His profession was that of a disciplinarian. And although a petty tyrant herself, she respected his authority as her superior. Perhaps it was partially the fault of the alcohol, but Lorna felt a perfect explosion of butterflies in her flat, little tummy as he pulled her across his lap and locked his arm around her waist.

      “Is this what you did to Jessie when she withheld her favors?” she boldly inquired before the first smack fell. Lionel pushed her tunic up to her waist while he decided how to reply. His ego urged him to reveal that Jessie’s favors had not been withheld. He also wondered whether such a revelation might spur Lorna to give in as well, so as not to be deemed less sophisticated than a child like Jessie. But in the end honor dictated the only possible answer.

      “Oh, my date with Jessie was strictly platonic.”

      “Oh, I see.”

      “And besides,” Smack! “She’s not a little flirt!” Smack! “She doesn’t wear jersey dresses that outline her bottom like a glove.” Smack! Smack!

      “I wasn’t aware of a dress code for teachers,” she replied, wriggling across his lap under the first few smacks.

      “You dress beautifully, darling. I wouldn’t change a thing about it. The only problem is, it makes men think about sex.”

      A sound spanking followed, giving Lorna plenty of time to decide whether she liked it. Lorna took every stroke without protest, though towards the end of the count of one hundred, she’d begun to breathe rather heavily. She couldn’t account for it, but the spanking felt distinctly pleasurable. She was aware of a sting and later of a tangible heat rising from her skin and penetrating through the silk trousers, but the sensations she was receiving