Saturday, October 25, 2014

Spank & Treat and Saturday Spankings



  SPANK OR TREAT 2014
SATURDAY SPANKINGS


Double, Double, toil or trouble  Anyway, here is my Spank or Treat Story.  It's not attached to any book so what you see is what you get.

When you're finished reading, be sure to read the instructions below and visit the other sites if you want to be eligible for the prizes offerred in Spank or Treat 2014, including a Kindle Fire or Nook and lots of gift certificates and book bundles. Visit Ana's site for a complete listing of the prizes.



ONCE UPON A WITCH


It was the night of the new moon, and I was walking home from an afternoon matinee at the neighborhood movie house.  It was only about 6:00 pm but on this late fall’s eve it was dark, and I was alone, a scared little boy on his way home after spending all afternoon watching scary movies. One the way home, I had to pass this house that was scary enough in the daytime but at night it prickled my skin.  I picked up my pace as I neared the house and was starting to run when I tripped over my undone shoelace and found myself face down on the ground. I must have screamed because I heard a door open.

“Who’s there?” I heard in this old creaky voice.  ‘I wasn’t sure I should answer.’

“I fell and hurt myself.  I can’t get up.” I didn’t even realize it was me talking; I don’t know where I found the courage.  It was then I saw this eerie light coming toward me. I was terrified and tried to move but my body failed me.

Before me stood a tall woman, dressed in a long filmy dress, her long hair splayed around her shoulders.  Her hands were old and wrinkled and her nails long and curled.

“Where does it hurt Sonny?” I heard that old creaky voice asked.

“My knee, all the way down my leg to my ankle.” I told her.  She rubbed her hands' together several seconds and then took my knee into her hands, which were as hot as coals.  She held my knee for minutes until the heat abated.  She rubbed her hands together again in the same fashion and took my ankle between those heated palms and held them until the heat cooled. 

“Now try to stand, Sonny.”  To my surprise, I could stand, and the pain was gone.  I knew then and there she had to be a witch.  How else could you account for her healing me so quickly. I don’t even
think I thanked her, just took off for home, running as fast as my legs could carry me.

I told my parents my story when I got home and after checking my leg and finding no burns or bruises, they decided my imagination had run away with me and it was as if the incident never happened.  We moved shortly after that and in my mind, it was because of that encounter.

             ____________________________________________

Years later, I am now a real estate agent, and I see a listing for 686 Mill Lane, Old Bridge.  Almost certain this was the house that was once the scariest place on earth to me, I had to go by and see what it looked like.  Large older houses on large lots and tree-lined streets made the neighborhood desirable and houses never stayed on the market long.  As a good agent, I always tried to preview a house the minute it came on the market, so I would be knowledgeable if a prospective buyer had any questions.  686 Mill Lane tweaked my curiosity for other reasons.

As I drove down the street, I could feel the hair standing up the back of my neck.  Don’t be ridiculous, you’re a grown man, I told myself.  There are no such things as witches and ghosts.  The house appeared and in the light of the day, it was practically cheery looking.  Painted a pale yellow with white trim; the bushes and shrubs cut back, and the white-washed picket fence made it look almost inviting. How silly I felt.  The for-sale sign on the front lawn said by appointment only.  Since I was already at the site, I called the listing realtor to see if there was any chance I could drop in for a quick run through.  She called the client and got an okay but told me to ring the bell first instead of just using the lock box key. 

As per instructions, I rang the doorbell and after waiting for a few minutes was fiddling with the lock box when the door opened.  A tall willowy woman beckoned me inside.

“I take it you’re the agent; my agent just called about?”

“Yes,” and I explained that although I had no buyer, I liked to preview houses first.  I also related my boyhood story, and she looked at me strangely.

“Interesting story. That must have been my aunt.  This was her house, but she has passed it on to me.  Come, I’ll take you on a tour.” 

The woman had to be at least 5’8” with porcelain white skin so thin you could see the veins in her forehead and on her hands.  She had long light strawberry blonde hair and the clearest blue eyes you can imagine.  She was almost ethereal in her manner.  She glided through the darkened rooms in a nearly ghostlike manner.

Although the outside of the house had been inviting, the inside was anything but.  True to the style of older homes, it was a warren of small rooms, all dark with massive furniture and heavy draperies leaving little outside light to penetrate.  The tour complete,  she asked what I thought of the house.

I went into my spiel about the desirable neighborhood and the curb appeal outside but said that, in my opinion, the inside was a little daunting.

“What do you mean and how can I fix it?”

“I suggested that I was no expert but there were people who staged houses for selling, and perhaps she could hire one of them to help her make whatever changes they thought necessary for a quick sale.”

“I don’t like the idea of strangers coming through the house.  My aunt lives in this house and I don’t think she would appreciate it either.”

What a strange thing to say. I wanted to tell her that reminding buyers that someone died at the house was not a selling point, especially not this house.

I suggested she might open the drapes a little to let in a little light.

 “The light hurts my eyes, and the sunlight fades the furniture.  My aunt would not like that.”

“I see,” I told her even though I didn’t. What did it matter what her aunt thought, after all she was dead. “Another suggestion is to make yourself scarce when any buyers come through.  It makes them feel uncomfortable like someone is standing over their shoulder watching.”

“I can do that, although I can’t do anything about my aunt, and I am quite sure she will be watching.”

This conversation kept getting more and more weird, and I couldn’t wait to get the hell out of there. I’m a grown man and no longer believe in witches, vampires, ghosts and things of that nature but this was freaky.  I know now the healing that took place back when I was a boy was a form of Reiki and the rubbing together of the hands was bringing in healing energy and that everything else was just the imagination of a young boy run amok, but I still had that creepy feeling on the back of my neck.

“Thank you for your time.  I wish you good luck in selling the home.”  I left my card on the table, and I got my ass out of there hoping that I wouldn’t ever have to show that house to anyone.

About six months later, I was attending a cocktail party for the Friends of the Library when a woman walked up to me.

“Hello Jonas. I can call you Jonas, can’t I?”

“Of course, but you have me at a disadvantage.  Have we met before?”

“Oh yes, we’ve met.  You’ve been to my home.” 

I am wracking my brain trying to place this woman and there is no recollection whatsoever.  You would think I would remember a tall willowy woman with strawberry blonde hair and clear blue eyes, but I didn’t.

“I’m sorry; I am embarrassed to say I don’t remember meeting you.”

“Perhaps the address will tweak your memory.  I live at 686 Old Mill Lane, Old Bridge.”

She must have seen the immediate light in my eyes.  “I see that it does.  My name is Zelda Christianson.”

I wasn’t sure what to say or do, so I just held out my hand to shake hers, and I felt an overwhelming shock of heat.  I almost pulled back my hand, hers was so hot.

“Yes, I do remember now.  Did you ever sell your house?”

“No, I never did.  I decided not to sell.  My aunt told me I should hang on to it for a time.”

“I see,” I replied and once again I didn’t see at all.  Was her dead aunt sending her communications from beyond the grave?

I was desperately trying to extricate myself from this conversation when another older woman came over to join us. 

“Jonas, I would like you to meet Dorothy Bainbridge.  She is my aunt and lives with me in that old rattletrap of a house.”

She must have seen the breath leave my body with this revelation.  She laughed out loud.

Her aunt looked at her strangely, and Zelda told her it was a private joke between us.  I kept standing there speechless.

“I’m sorry I was being evil-minded both at the house and here.  At the house, I could feel your nervousness, and I couldn’t help but feed into it.  In my profession, I’m trained to observe and be aware of people and their tells.  You never quite got over your boyhood fear of the house, and I took advantage of that.  I deserve a spanking.”

“You’re damn right you do.  You are correct in that I probably did bring my boyhood fears with me on that trip to the house, but you did nothing to ally those fears.  You said it was your aunt’s house, and it passed to you.”

“It was and did.  She deeded it over to me to avoid probate when the time comes.”

“And all the other innuendos, were all to feed into my fear too.

“Sorry, but yes.”

‘You’re right.  You deserve a damn good spanking for that."

                                       ________________________________ 

Zelda invited me to her house for the following weekend.  She was throwing a Halloween Party for friends and as a fund raiser for the Friend of the Library. 

“I think it might be catharctic for you.”

“I can think of something else that might be catharctic for me, something a little more physical,  but this might do.”

Great, I’ll see you just after the sunset.  That’s when the goblins come out of the woodwork, isn’t it?”

‘Zelda, I don’t know you well enough yet, but if I ever do, I’m going to heat up your bottom. However, unlike your aunt, I will be inflicting the pain and not relieving it.” She laughed and secretly hoped it would happen. She might just have to conjure up a spell or concoct a witches’ brew to facilitate events.


“See you then my pretty,” and she gave her best imitation of the Wizard of Oz’ Wicked Witch cackle.


THE RULES - WHY ARE THERE ALWAYS RULES?

How you play?
 1.Visit each blog between Friday, October 24th and Sunday, October 26th to read the stories.
 2. Leave a comment on each blog. You must demonstrate that you have read the entire story. Copy-and-paste or inappropriate comments will be disqualified. You will receive one entry per blog for the grand prize drawing. Note: You must have a minimum of five entries in order to win a grand prize.
 3.If you have visited all of the blogs, visit Ana’s blog to sign up for FIVE bonus entries to the grand prize.
 4.Deadline is midnight EST (UTC -5) on Sunday, October 26th!
 5. If you successfully completed a previous challenge (Sci Spanks 2014, Love Spanks 2014, Spank or Treat 2013, Spankee Doodle 2013, Love Spanks 2013, or Spank or Treat 2012), you may add “VIP” to your comments.  You will earn THREE bonus entries toward the grand prize.  (Yes, we will be doing this again.  Yes, if you successfully complete the Spank or Treat 2014 challenge you can become a VIP for our next activity!)
 6. If you are a writer of fiction (any kind), add “W” to your comments to be entered in the special author prize drawings.
 7. If you are a Spank or Treat 2014 Ambassador, please add “Amb” to your comments to receive your extra prize drawing.
8.Visit Governing Ana or any of the participating blogs on Friday, October 31st to find out the lucky winners. Will it be you? We will also announce prizes on the Spank or Treat Facebook page.
 Like these events? Want to support your favorite authors? Become a Spank or Treat Ambassador! In exchange for promoting this event, you will receive one extra prize entry, AND you are still eligible to participate and win prizes! To find out the details, sign up on the Ambassador page.
For more information, updates, and a list of participating authors, please visit Anastasia Vitsky’s blog.
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Join the exclusive chat with Spank or Treat authors! Message Anastasia Vitsky on Facebook or any of the authors to receive an invitation

Here is the list of particpating authors in Spank or Treat. Click on a name to be taken to that sitee.

Virginia Nelson
Now, here are the links to authors participating in Saturday Spanks.  Not relegated to just eight sentences this week,  there will longer snippets to entice you. 


I'm going to be away from here all weekend.  If you run into any problems with leaving a comment, leave the comments on Ana's page and she will see that I get them.  I will be giving away a copy of At the End of the Rainbow and Destiny Takes a Hand to two lucky winners.  Be sure to leave your email so I can get in touch with you.