WARNING: You must be at least 18 years of age to read this story. The following story may describe consensual or non-consensual spanking or other BDSM activity involving one or more adult women and/or teenaged girls. The story may also describe consensual or non-consensual sexual activity between adults, between minor persons, or between minors and adults, and will be clearly tagged as appropriate. Please observe the tags to determine whether or not you want to read the story. Do not read the story if the tags indicate subject matter that you will find offensive. DISCLAIMER: This is a work of FICTION. The characters in this story are the product of the author's imagination, and do not represent any actual person, living or dead. Any similarities to actual persons are purely coincidental. The author does not necessarily condone, encourage or participate in the types of activities described within this story. Please be aware of the difference between fantasy and reality when reading this work of FICTION. COPYRIGHT & PERMISSION: This story is Copyright 2002 by T-Luv. This story may not be reproduced elsewhere without permission of the author. All permitted reproductions must include the unaltered WARNING, DISCLAIMER and COPYRIGHT & PERMISSION notices.
The House In The Woods by T-Luv (M/f, interracial, spanking, teen, romantic, consensual, reluctant, nc, Light ) Brianna knew she shouldn't, but she was in a hurry. She'd overslept, again. One more tardy at school, and she would be in big trouble with Mom. So even though she knew better, she took a shortcut through the woods. Oh, she'd heard all about these woods. All through her sixteen years she had heard the whispered stories about the 'stalker'. She'd heard those ridiculous tales of other girls getting snatched in these woods, and of the horrible things that had happened to them. "Silly rumors, that's all they are," Brianna reassured herself. The story went back at least fifty years. "Some girl" would wander into these woods, and "something" would happen to her. Nobody ever said what that "something" was. Time had exaggerated the story, of course. To hear her parent's and grandparent's generations tell it, at least a hundred girls had been "snatched". And it was always the same story: the girl would come home, apparently unharmed, but terribly frightened and refusing to talk about it. The alleged incidents had become fewer and fewer in the last twenty years, though, and Brianna had never known anybody her own age who'd had a strange experience in the woods. Still, she remembered hearing something about Becca Jackson, who was five years older than Brianna. Funny... in a town where most girls were married as soon as they finished high school (or within a couple of years, anyway) Becca was still single. She'd broken up with her boyfriend shortly before graduation, and since then she pretty much stayed on her parent's farm, rarely coming into town any more. Weird. The rumors persisted, and Brianna's generation had grown up with the understanding that going into these woods was something a girl just didn't do. And so Brianna, a smart girl, had never cut through the woods before today. Not because she really believed the warnings, but because that was just the way things were done in her small town. The way they'd always been done. So she ran. Silly rumors aside, there was still no need to linger. And she was still running late. She jogged as fast as she could across the leaf-strewn floor of the woods, slowing from time to time to hop a fallen, moss-covered log. The maples were nearly bare, though a few red leaves still clung stubbornly to the branches. She found herself wishing she had worn jeans and boots today. The slick soles of her saddle shoes didn't provide much traction on the damp ground, and her short skirt kept creeping up while she ran. Brianna didn't even see the clearing until she was standing in the middle of it. And since when was there a house in the middle of these woods? Brianna had ridden in her parents car many times along the road that followed the crest of the nearby hills. In all the times she had stared out the window, across the trees, she had never seen any houses. The woods had always looked like virgin timber to her. Yet there was no denying the big, two-story, white farmhouse, with a covered porch that ran all the way across the front. Big as life, looking lived-in, if a bit run down. Brianna was familiar with the style, as there were many similar old farmhouses surrounding the town. "Alice! I am glad you could come!" The accented male voice boomed behind her. Brianna whirled in fright, and found herself face to face with a handsome young man. He had black hair that was cut in one of those old-fashioned styles that had come back into vogue recently, and brown skin, as well as the deepest brown eyes Brianna had ever seen. She guessed him to be about twenty-one, though having had no experience with dark-skinned people, she couldn't be sure. His accent was as unfamiliar as his appearance. Surely, Brianna would have noticed a man like him in her all-white farm town. He would have stood out like a sore thumb. "Um hi," Brianna said, uncertainly. "Um, my name's not Alice..." The man smiled broadly, showing white, but crooked teeth. "Oh, mi bonita, you are always so silly!" To Brianna's shock, this strange man in dirty overalls stepped forward and embraced her, pulling her tightly to his chest. "Ah, Alice," he said, gazing into her wide blue eyes, "Too many days go by between your visits! You torment me, leaving me to spend those days with only your memory. Those days, I can only dream of you. But now you are here!" Up to that point, Brianna had been too shocked to move. But now, the man lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her deeply. Panic set in, and she pushed him away. Then, to her own surprise she slapped him. Hard. Surprising herself even more, she stood there and watched his reaction. The hurt look in his eyes cut her as he reached up to rub his reddened cheek. In spite of his unwanted advances, she somehow felt bad about striking him. She began to stammer an apology. "Oh! Oh, I'm so sorry..." He smiled wickedly. "So, mi paloma wishes to play la bruja today! Well, shall we see if I cannot drive El Diablo from you? I think I know the proper method! Come, Alice, and I will save you!" Brianna didn't understand the words she finally recognized as Spanish. But she understood that something was wrong with the way the man had taken her hand and was leading her toward the big white house. Strangely enough, Brianna realized that she wasn't resisting. "Oh, God! I'm going to be soooo late for school! And my name's not Alice!" she protested. But her mind screamed at her, "Late for school? Who cares? I'm about to be raped!" She was terrified, but still unable to resist. Her brain was telling her to break the man's gentle grip and run for her life. But her legs carried her forward. The young man led her up onto the front porch of the house, but instead of dragging her inside, he pulled her toward the porch swing. There he sat. And then to Brianna's utter surprise, he pulled her face down across his lap! "Joachin!" Joachin? Where did that come from? "Stop! You're getting my dress dirty!" The man, whose name was indeed Joachin, laughed. "Madre di Dios!" he said, his voice ringing. "You need the devil driven from you, and you worry about a little dirt? Well, you will soon have other worries!" Brianna was mortified when she felt Joachin's calloused hand stroking her upturned bottom. Then she was shocked breathless when he started to spank her. "Hey!" she yelled. "Stop that!" "I will stop when I am satisfied that the evil spirit has fled, mi bonita!" The spanking went on and on, Joachin's strong hand sending fire into Brianna's round bottom. Her legs kicked and her blonde hair flew as she struggled against him. But he held her securely with his left arm, and his right hand never slowed on it's mission to exorcise the demons from her fanny. Gradually, Brianna relaxed. She couldn't believe what was happening. Sure, her parents still spanked her at home, when she needed it. Whose parents didn't? But total strangers? She had never been so embarrassed as she was right now! But, she didn't try to escape... After what seemed like an eternity, the spanking finally stopped. Bottom burning like the fires of Hell, Brianna just laid there, sobbing. Strangely, though, she felt comfortable. Comfortable and happy. Joachin allowed her to remain in position until she had finished crying, and then he gently helped her to her feet. Standing to face her, he placed a hand under her chin and lifted her face to look at him. Her unblinking blue eyes stared into his brown orbs. "Has the devil gone from you, Alice?" he asked, compassionately. "Y-yes," Brianna stammered, "I think so." A pause and then, "I-I'm sorry I slapped you." "Good." Joachin sighed. "If only you could stay. I will miss you until next time. But go, now." He smiled conspiratorially and said, "You'll be late for school." Brianna gasped. Her tardiness had completely fled her mind. She looked one last time at the dark man, then turned and ran. She scooped up her book bag where it had fallen, then plunged into the woods. She ran all the way to school, knowing she was in trouble. When she arrived at the school, though, the other students were still arriving. Puzzled, she glanced at her watch. She stared at the tiny hands. According to her watch, she was right on time, though she should have been at least thirty minutes late. In fact, she had arrived at the same time she would have had she not been waylaid in the woods. It was then that she realized her bottom wasn't warm, like it should have been after such a long spanking. Something was wrong. Hurrying inside the school, she made her way to one of the small restrooms - one that had a lock on the door. Inside, she turned her back to the mirror and pulled up her skirt. Hesitantly, she lowered her panties and looked over her shoulder at her reflection. There wasn't a mark to be seen. Not even a blush. ********** Brianna laid on her bed, thinking about the unusual happenings five days earlier. Had it even been real? Maybe she had just dreamed the whole thing. But no, it had felt too real. Even if there was no physical evidence afterward. She closed her eyes and thought hard. What explanation could there possibly be? Was that what had happened to all those other girls over the years? Surely not. The man... Joachin... was hardly older than her, and the stories had been going around for decades, according to all the adults. She hadn't told anybody what happened. She knew nobody would believe her. Or was she afraid that they *would* believe her? And that they would all think she was crazy, or that she would get in trouble for going into the woods? Not that there was any law against it. It was only "something a girl just didn't do." And she had thought all the stories were just silly rumors. She knew better now. It just... didn't seem possible, though. The man... Joachin... was young. He couldn't have had anything to do with the old stories. Could he? "Brianna, are you feeling okay?" her mother's voice drifted up the stairs. "You're usually up and about by this time on a Saturday!" "Um, I'm fine, Mother," Brianna called out. "Just a little tired." "All right, dear," Mother replied. "I'm going into town later, if you want to come. Your father is there negotiating with a buyer for the crop." "I think I'll stay home today," Brianna said. "Maybe I'll take a walk later." Brianna closed her eyes and concentrated on Joachin's image, which still burned strong in her mind. He was so handsome, in a kind of old-fashioned way. And so... polite, even when he was spanking her. Spanking her. That was the weirdest part. Even weirder than the way he kept calling her Alice. She didn't even know anybody named Alice. What an old-fashioned name! Brianna laid there for a long time, thinking. Over and over she asked herself, "Was it real? Did it really happen?" Long after she heard her mother's Buick leave the shed and crunch down the gravel road toward town, she made up her mind. There was only one way to find out. She put on her boots. It was like he knew she was coming. He was waiting, standing on the front porch, hands on his hips, and a broad smile on his dusky, dusty face. "Buenos dias!" he called out to her. "Como estas? How are you today, Alicia?" He stepped down from the porch and practically ran to her. Brianna accepted his embrace, and returned it. "Hello, Joachin," she said, softly. When he kissed her, she didn't resist, disregarding the dirt on his cheeks. She didn't close her eyes, choosing instead to gaze into his clear brown eyes. Strangely, his gaze was comforting, welcoming. It almost felt like... love? They separated reluctantly. "Did anybody see you come here?" Joachin asked. "N-no. Mother and Father are in town. They won't be back until late. Father is trying to find a buyer for the crops." "I pray to God that he has better luck than he had last year," Joachin said, sounding sympathetic. "Two years of weak markets would be bad news for your family." Brianna was puzzled. Father had gotten a very good price for the crop last year. "Yeah," she said. Joachin's face lit up. "I have prepared a modest meal," he said. "Will you join me?" He looked hopeful. "Okay," Brianna said. Carne asada, he had called it. Accustomed to meals of roast beef and potatoes and carrots, the food was much spicier than anything Brianna had tasted before. But it was delicious. Even more delicious was the way he courted her. It was obvious that he was in love. And Brianna, to her own surprise, realized that she was falling in love with him, too. He was so handsome, and polite, and strong. She was impressed with the fact that he lived here alone, working the fields of local farmers, and was still able to keep the old house tidy and welcoming. She couldn't believe she had never seen him before... "...been good?" Brianna realized she hadn't heard the last few things Joachin had said. "I-I'm sorry, what did you say?" she asked, a bit embarrassed by her wandering mind. "I asked if you have been good," Joachin said, with a twinkle in his eye. "Oh!" Brianna realized she was blushing. "I, uh..." Oh god... is he going to spank me again? Brianna didn't know why the idea sounded so appealing to her. "Well, I..." "I hope not," Joachin said, "because I have made a gift for you. But it is a gift you must leave here, to be enjoyed only when you visit." He brought a small, colorfully wrapped box from under the table and pushed it across to Brianna. "Feliz cumplea-os, happy birthday!" "But it's not..." Brianna decided to hold her tongue and see what happened. "For me? Thank you!" Trying not to show too much of the eagerness and curiosity she felt inside, she carefully unwrapped the present. She gasped when she saw what was inside. "I made it myself," Joachin said, beaming with pride. "Oh!" Brianna stared at the smooth wooden paddle in her hand, studying the smooth, curved lines, and noting the hand-rubbed oil finish that dramatically set off the grain of the hard maple. "It's... beautiful!" Beautiful? It's a paddle! "Gracias, Joachin," she said, sincerely. She smiled at him, wondering silently where she had picked up a Spanish word. She was studying French in school... The 'birthday' spanking Joachin gave her was the most delightfully exciting experience of Brianna's life. Oh, it hurt! He counted off, in Spanish, sixteen hard spanks. The hard wood stung Brianna's soft, bare bottom (Brianna had surprised even herself by voluntarily lowering her jeans and panties, and had laughed at the briefly stunned look on Joachin's face.) When the sixteen spanks were finished, Brianna didn't want him to stop. She couldn't believe herself! It hurt more than any spanking Father had ever given her, but she desperately wanted Joachin to continue. When it was finally over, many spanks later, Brianna knew she was marked and bruised. Far back in the depths of her mind was the thought that surely, this evidence would remain as a souvenir of this event and would remind her for weeks to come. That would prove that the experience had been real. As before, though, it seemed that no time had passed. At home in her room once more, Brianna hurried to her full-length mirror and took down her pants. It was with immense disappointment that she saw in the reflection nothing but smooth white skin. Slumping, she laid herself face down on her bed, and cried. ********** It was on the third and final time they met that Joachin seduced Brianna. Or she seduced him. Either way, the result was the same. He had spanked her, and then they had made love. It was wonderful. ********** Brianna knew, though it broke her heart, that she couldn't go back to him. Something wasn't right. He had spoken a name. Alice... he had called her Alice all along. But that last time, as they parted, he had called her Miss Binford, in that polite way of his. Binford. Alice Binford. Brianna realized she knew that name. And so she found herself, on the following Saturday, hesitantly knocking at the door or a tiny, run down house near the edge of town. There was no answer, so she knocked again. Finally, she heard footsteps inside, and the rattle of a chain lock. The door slowly opened, just a crack, and Brianna was face to face with a thin, silver-haired woman. Though she was only sixty-six, the woman looked much older. The wrinkles on her face clearly showed the years of misery written there. The old woman regarded Brianna without expression. "Miss Binford? Alice Binford?" Brianna inquired nervously. The old woman stared hard at Brianna and then moved to close the door again. But Brianna had to talk to her. She shoved her foot between the door and the frame. "Please, I have to talk to you, Miss Binford!" "Go away! Leave me alone!" The woman's voice was weak and frail sounding, but emphatic. Desperate, Brianna said, "It's about Joachin!" Brianna felt the pressure on her foot disappear, and watched as the door slowly swung inward. Once more, Alice Binford stared at her, studied her with penetrating eyes. Then the woman stepped back, nodding at Brianna. Brianna came inside, and the woman closed the door behind her. "Come sit down," Alice said. At Alice's kitchen table, the two of them sipped hot tea. Brianna was leafing through a scrapbook filled with newspaper clippings that dated back to the 1950s. Every article was about a girl who had wandered into those woods and had a frightening experience. Many of the articles named the girl. Becca Jackson was named in the last clipping, dated four years ago. Brianna found herself wondering, "Why was I different? All of these girls were so afraid, but I wasn't..." She must have spoken aloud without realizing it, because Alice finally spoke up. "I looked like you, once." She pushed a small, framed, yellowed black and white photograph toward Brianna. "You can't tell by looking at that, but when I was young my hair was exactly the same shade of blond that yours is. Stand up, girl." Alice studied Brianna's figure. "I was built like you, too." Taking her seat again, Brianna listened as Alice spoke. "These other girls, they were the same. Dark blond hair, tall, nice legs," Alice said, quietly. "Yes, I had great legs, once." A pause, and then, "I knew who all of those girls were. They all went crazy, or close to it. You're the first one to come to me. You met him, did you?" "Y-yes, Miss Binford." "Tell me about it," Alice said. And Brianna told her. Though it was difficult, she spared no detail. When she finished, she saw the tears in Alice Binford's eyes. "We were lovers. Forbidden love, it was, too. People back then didn't approve of mixing races." Alice stared out the window as she spoke. "We had to keep it secret. I couldn't let anybody see me going to him. Poor fellow." "He was awfully young for such a big house," Brianna said, softly. "His father built it, God rest his soul. The whole family..." "What happened to them?" Alice sighed. "I should start at the beginning. Hector Paredes Carillo came here from Mexico with his wife, years before I was born. That was back when the government still let them come and go without all the hassle they give them now. So they were legal. Hector and his wife spent years working on the farms around here. They managed to save enough money to buy some land of their own, and they built a house. They raised a family right here in this town. Of course, they still weren't treated very well, even though they had become good members of the community. But Hector and Consuela had two children. A little girl named Carmen, and... Joachin. Between them, they managed to make a living out of their small farm. "The children didn't go to school. It wasn't required back then. They just worked their farm during the season, then worked odd jobs in town the rest of the year. They got by. Then, when I was only thirteen, the measles came through here. A lot of people got it. Unfortunately, Hector and his family were hit harder than anybody. By the time the epidemic passed, only Joachin was left. The poor boy had to bury his whole family. The only good thing was that his father had made sure that the farm and house were paid for. Joachin inherited the whole ball of wax. And once he was finished mourning his family, he went to work. He was determined to maintain it. And he did, too. Did a damn fine job. "I happened to meet him on the road when I was sixteen. Your age. And let me tell you, it was love at first sight!" Alice paused, seeming on the brink of tears again. "I... saw him as often as I could. Two or three times a week. I had to sneak, sneak, sneak. It's a wonder my folks didn't catch on. But I was having the time of my life. But, I suppose it had to end, eventually. I was young and naive, and well..." Alice closed her eyes, and Brianna could see she was struggling to maintain control of her emotions. She reached out and took Alice's hand in hers. "I turned up pregnant. My parents were scandalized, naturally, and demanded to know who the father was. I wouldn't tell them, though my father threatened to beat it out of me. But I wouldn't tell. Thankfully, my mother wouldn't let him touch me 'in my condition'. Instead, they sent me off to a home." Alice smiled ruefully at her teenaged companion. "They don't do that kind of thing any more, do they? I see the young girls pushing their babies around now, so proud of themselves. But back then, well, it was a big shame. My parents told everyone that I had gone to stay with an aunt. Not that that fooled anybody. But, I had my baby a few months later at the home for pregnant, unmarried girls. They took the baby away, and I never saw her again. They said she was placed for adoption. I hope she had a good home." Now Alice was crying freely. "So I had my baby in secret, and came back home alone. And I found out that everyone knew who the father was." She felt Brianna squeeze her hand, and she continued. "The word of my 'colored' baby made it back to town before I did. And that news left only one possibility as to who the father of my little girl could have been. They killed him. Goddam racist, bigoted bastards! They somehow got it into their damn fool heads that he must have raped me! Oh, a good white girl like me wouldn't have had no truck with a spic! That was something a girl just didn't do!" Alice pounded the kitchen table with her frail fist. "They burned him. A whole mob of our 'pure, upstanding men' marched right out there and set fire to his house, and his barn. Killed or stole what few animals he had. Burned him along with everything he, and his father before him, had worked for." Alice heaved a sigh. "And they burned any love that was left in me." Brianna sat in stunned silence for some time, then came around the table to embrace the older woman. Together, they cried over the young man they had each loved in their own way. "This has to end," Alice whispered, finally. Some time later, Brianna and Alice said their goodbyes. Brianna was two blocks away when she heard the sound of an engine firing. She turned in time to see an old car pull out of Alice's driveway and head down the road in the opposite direction. Toward the woods. "Oh, no! She's..." Brianna turned and ran, as fast as her legs would carry her, to the Police station. There, she found the town's one old cop, "Chief" Ralston. The chief was old, and ready to retire, but hadn't yet hired his replacement. "Chief! You've got to help! Alice is..." She stopped when the chief held up a hand. "Whoa! Slow down, girl! What's the matter? I haven't seen you this excited since the day..." "Sorry, Chief, but this can't wait! It's Alice Binford!" "Alice? What's the matter with her?" The chief had grown up with Alice, and had secretly carried a torch for her all these years. Like her, he had never married. "She's headed for the woods. To see Joachin." "Woods? Joachin? Oh lordy! Let's go!" The chief grabbed the keys to his patrol car, and away they went. They found Alice's old car parked near the side of the road, but Alice wasn't in it. After some frantic looking in all directions, they spotted her, about a hundred yards away, making her way into the woods. "Alice!" shouted Brianna. "Alice, wait!" shouted Chief Ralston. The girl and the cop plunged into the woods after Alice, calling for her to wait for them, but she never looked back. They were close to catching her, when they abruptly found themselves blocked by thick undergrowth. "What the heck? How did she get through here?" Chief Ralston looked around for a way through the brush. That's when he saw the house for the first time, with a young, dark-skinned man on the front porch, and Alice walking slowly toward him. "I'll be damned..." As Brianna and the Chief watched from a short distance, they saw Joachin step off the porch and come to meet Alice. And Alice began to change. Once stooped, she gradually stood straight. The silver fled her hair to be replaced by dark golden tresses. Her slow, painful shuffle transformed into an agile gallop as she and Joachin rushed into each other's arms. They simply held each other for a long time. Then they turned together and walked to the house. As they mounted the porch steps, they both turned to look in Brianna's direction. Brianna was sure she saw Joachin wink at her, and then the two eternal lovers disappeared into the house. Brianna and Chief Ralston watched in amazed silence as the house slowly faded from view. Moments later, there was nothing but trees, and the barest outline of an ancient foundation in the ground beneath. Young girl and old policeman were both smiling, and crying.
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