Anna pulled her car onto the gravel driveway and eyed the crumbling mansion with suspicion. It didn’t look like anyone had been in the home for years, and it damned sure didn’t appear to be a good place for a meeting.
“More like a place for a murder,” she murmured to herself. “Or something equally as bad.”
Even good girls deserve a spanking.
Anna took a note from her pocket and compared it to the address.
“1313 Mockingbird Lane,” she said to herself. Anna kept her voice low. There was no one around – no one to hear her ruminations. But still, whispering seemed appropriate.
“It’s the right address. But this damn sure doesn’t look like the right house.”
Anna shook her head. The address matched the one she has received in e-mail. But something was off. “Damn,” she muttered, then lifted her door handle. “I’ll have to check this out.” Her foot crunched into the gravel, and Anna stood straight beside her car. She eyed the house again for movement, then carefully closed the car door.
Anna was dressed simply: khaki pants, a white blouse and sneakers. She had her hair tied back into a ponytail and wore no jewelry. Typically, when Anna received email at her private address, it meant a mission. But this particular email hadn’t been specific enough for her to suss out a possible agenda. So rather than wear a black unitard and camouflage make-up, she chose more direct clothing. Easier to explain why she wasn’t dressed as a spy, than to wear her more typical garb.
The downside, of course, was that Anna was a beautiful woman with large breasts. If she wasn’t trying to hide her identity, she was the kind of woman who stood out in a crowd.
Even now, in the dimming sunlight, she almost glowed in the dark. Anna knew that she was gorgeous; that she attracted both men and women. But that couldn’t be helped. Indeed, it could turn out to be an asset, she thought.
Anna glanced at the email that she had printed out. “Go now, to 1313 Mockingbird Lane. Find a woman named Jenkins.”
Nothing more to the email. The headers had been forged; not at all uncommon in her line of work. She couldn’t trace the email. But then, only her handlers had her Hush mail account.
So when Anna received the email, she locked up her house and hit the road. She always closed the house up tight when leaving for a mission. No telling how long she would be gone. Closing up a house that tightly was expensive, but so was Anna. There weren’t many freelance female agents, so Anna could charge what she wanted. Besides. She was good at her job. As good as any man, and more versatile.
Anna crumpled the note and shoved it into her pocket. Carefully, she approached the house. A sudden gust of wind howled around the edge of the home as she drew near. It whipped a few strands of her blonde hair loose from the ponytail. The sun edged a little lower in the sky. Anna looked up.
“Was that candle always lit?” Anna wondered. “I don’t remember it.” Apprehension caused her to be more cautious in her approach. She crouched and noted that the sun also seemed to have dropped below the horizon. Tall trees surrounded the mansion, and the grounds were suddenly gloomy. In her crouch, Anna seemed to skitter across the front lawn. She was careful, but still, Anna was expected.
The front door creaked open before Anna could put a hand to the knob. “What the-?” Anna was startled only because there was no one behind the door; there was no one visible who could have pushed it open. “Shit!” she murmured. “Not good.”
Still, a job was a job. Anna was well paid because she wasn’t easily scared off.
She stepped onto the porch and looked inside. What she saw surprised her.
Outside, the house was a decaying mansion, passed its prime and grandeur. There were a scattering of broken windows, missing shingles and broken drainpipes. The lawn was more field than grass, and the stand to the mailbox was snapped in two.
Anna was ready for the home to be in total disarray – empty, and void of life. But that’s not what she found. The inside of the home was impressive, a lush beauty that belied the crumbling exterior. The foyer glowed with candle light, and it flickered off rich, hardwood floors. Above the floors hung paintings of nude women, cavorting with men and satyrs. It all looked almost demonic, with the paintings of nude seeming to dance in the red flickers. And the sounds! Tinkling laughter – definitely that of women – filtered through the home, and from somewhere, a jazz piano.
“This gets stranger and stranger,” Anna murmured. She put a hand into her pocket. Anna rarely used her weapon – a snub-nosed .38 – but she had it with her always, just in case. Anna didn’t mind that it created a gun-like bulge in her pocket. So much the better that people knew she was armed. “Let’s just see what we shall see.”
Anna slipped carefully through the door. Once inside, Anna could see there was a sign posted in the hallway: “Alice’s House – Enjoy Yourself.”
As Anna read the sign, the door slammed shut behind her.
“Goddammit!” Anna leaped to the door and grabbed the knob with her left hand. With her right hand, she pulled the pistol from her pants. “Open the fucking door!” Anna had the gun out, but there was no one to point it at. She yanked at the door knob. The front door didn’t budge.
“This isn’t funny, goddammit!” Anna waved the gun around. “Show yourself!”
“She’s a bad girl.” It was a woman’s voice, and it was beside Anna! She whirled to her right and aimed her gun; but there was no one there!
“A very bad girl,” another voice agreed. “Only bad girls have guns.” It came from the other side, and Anna spun again, this time letting go of the door knob. She turned right. Then left. Then entire circle, waving the gun the entire time. “Where are you!?” Anna screamed. “Goddammit! Open the damn door.”
“I bet she came here to steal something.” It was a third voice, and again, it was female.
“Miz Jenkins will know what to do with her.” It was yet another female voice .
“Jenkins!” Anna snarled. “Bring me your Mrs. Jenkins,” she snapped. “Bring her to me now!”
Suddenly, the temperature in the house seemed to drop by about 20 degrees, as a cold wave swept down the hallway. The gun was snatched from Anna’s hand by invisible forces and Anna’s hands were pinned to her sides.
“That’s Miz Jenkins,” an older, female voice said. Anna was lifted by unseen hands until her feet dangled above the floor. Anna kicked the empty air, but connected with nothing. “You girls are right,” Miz Jenkins said. “This is a bad girl.”
“Fuck you!” Anna screamed. “Let me go.” Anna kicked again. And again, her foot connected with nothing.
Apparently in response, Anna’s khaki’s were unsnapped and then yanked off her legs. Anna found herself nude below the waist except for her white cotton panties.
“Hold her, girls,” Miz Jenkins said, still invisible. “I know just what bad girls need.”
In front of Anna, a piece of the hardwood floor was slowly bent upward until it snapped!
“Bad girls need a spanking!”
Anna struggled wildly in the ghostly arms, kicking and flailing. All the while her eyes tracked the three-foot piece of flooring as it floated around behind her.
“Yowtch!” Anna screamed.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“Yow! No! Stop!”
Suddenly, Anna felt her cotton panties snatched off. Her ass was bared, and there were female voices giggling all around her.
“Ouch!” Anna yelled again. The swinging board was relentless, and Anna’s legs were flailing in mid-air. And though her buttocks burned from the spanking, she felt a different kind of warmth beginning deep in her belly: One set of the ghostly hands had released her, and found their way to her pussy.
“Oh, god! No!”
As the board rose and fell, the fingers slid deep inside of her.
“Stop! No! Don’t! Stop!”
“Apologize!” It was Miz Jenkins’ disembodied voice issuing the command. “Apologize for swearing!”
“All right!” Anna screamed. “I’ll be good! I promise. I’ll be good!”
The board hovered in the air. “Apologize for swearing,” Miz Jenkins said again.
Anna was still suspended in in the air, ghostly fingers thrusting in and out of her pussy. Her ass was bright red and her legs were exhausted from kicking. “Fuck off!” she screamed. “Let me down!”
“Say that you’re sorry!” Miz Jenkins demanded.
Anna spun in mid-air. Her legs were tired, yet she was still horny. She couldn’t see anyone, but felt another set of hands join the first: four hands stroked her pussy; the board rose and fell.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“Are you sorry?” the disembodied voice of Ms. Jenkins demanded.
Anna felt herself lowered to the floor. She couldn’t kick, and really didn’t feel like moving. A ghostly mouth was on her breast. Ghostly hands covered her body and masturbated her furiously. She sucked in a breath; the makeshift paddle was raised high in the air. Anna felt an orgasm boiling her stomach.
“I’m a good girl,” Anna said through her teeth. “And good girls deserve–” Anna gasped as three fingers slipped deep inside of her and tongues slathered her body. “Fuck you, Casper,” Anna said between clenched teeth.