The following is an adaption of the classic tale, written with a literotica twist. The idea came into my head when I saw the Winter Holidays Story Contest and thought I'd write a Christmas tale, and what better inspiration than A Christmas Carol?
I've tried to keep the core themes from the original, but it obviously is but a pauper's imitation of Mr Dicken's masterpiece. Regardless, I hope it is something a little different from the standard. Enjoy, JJJ
Stave 1
The bell rang loud and shrill over the school grounds. A chorus of cheers and scraping chairs answered it as the children celebrated the end of term and the beginning of the Christmas holidays. Their teacher, Mrs Scrooge, surveyed their joy with pursed lips. None of her children wished her a Merry Christmas on their way out. In fact, many appeared relieved to be free of her icy clutches until the new year.
As could be expected in a secondary school, her name brought no end of amusement to the students, especially considering how well she fitted the name 'Scrooge'. It wasn't that she was necessarily unpleasant toward students, but she simply lacked anything in the way of warmth or enjoyment in anything that she did.
Her personality was at complete odds with her looks. She had long golden hair and bright blue eyes. Her face was full in a cute way, with dimpled cheeks and full lips. Only thirty-five, Carol Scrooge was tall, with willowy legs and a chest that drew the eyes of any male she passed. Fortunately, her cold personality was enough to dissuade most from approaching her. Those who did were met with cold indifference.
That was until Brian sauntered into her life. He was a temporary teacher who had joined the school staff at the start of the school year. In his mid-twenties, handsome, and brash, he hadn't been put off by Carol's complete lack of interest. On the contrary, he saw the ice queen as the ultimate conquest, more so after learning she had a husband.
It had taken months of slowly wearing her down, but he had made progress. Carol never spoke openly of her husband, but he expertly manipulated her into admitting that things had not been well at home for a very long time. A small part of her enjoyed the attention. Not necessarily from Brain in particular, but just any form of attention. It wasn't that her husband didn't give it to her. No, he was wonderful. But there was an ice wall that stopped her from feeling good about anything that he said.
Small talks in corridors had turned into lunches in the canteen, which had turned into visits after lessons had finished. Carol never went looking for him, but he always found her. A tentative friendship of sorts formed, always with the underlying tone of something more.
Carol knew what Brian was doing. She knew the danger. But... she didn't stop it. A small part of her that hated herself welcomed the danger. Maybe she was hoping that her husband found out so that it could all be over. She would be the maker of her own destruction.
Carol was preparing her classroom for the winter closure when Brian entered. He casually leaned against her desk and let his eyes roam freely over her body, despite it being concealed beneath layers of clothes.
"Going to miss me during the break?" he asked teasingly.
No, not at all.
Despite how she felt, Carol smirked. "Why would I miss you?"
"Our daily talks? Our heart to hearts? Our outrageous flirting?"
"Ohhh, flirting! Is that what you've been doing!?"
Brian hopped off the desk and stepped closer. "I can up my game, if you'd like?"
Carol stepped away. "I don't think Bob would appreciate that."
"Bob doesn't have to know, just like Cassie. It'll just be some spouseless fun to warm the holidays. Come on, don't act like you haven't thought about it. You've flirted with me just as much this term. I think you like the danger of it, knowing you could be caught being naughty this Christmas." He grinned. "I'll tell you what, you have my number. Christmas morning, make an excuse to Bob that you need to go out. We'll meet somewhere and I'll bring the mistletoe." He looked Carol up and down again. "Although we both know that we won't be kissing for long."
He walked from the classroom. Carol snorted and finished cleaning the room and packed up her belongings. Brian was a misogynistic, creepy, arrogant man who thought more with his cock than his brain. She didn't know how Cassie put up with him. Yet... she couldn't stop thinking about his offer. It was a ridiculous, dangerous, stupid thing to do. She wasn't attracted to Brian. Bob was much better looking and a better person in every way. So why was she considering it?
*
Bob was sitting in the kitchen when Carol entered their house. He'd made dinner and was waiting for her to get back. He looked... not sad, but lifeless. Carol felt a stab of guilt when she saw him and wondered if he somehow knew about her flirting.
She dismissed the thought. Yes, she had flirted, but that was the extent of her betrayal. A far worse one was happening in her head, where she was considering meeting with Brian on a day that was so important to both of them.
As if reading her mind, Bob asked, "Did you want to do anything in particular on Christmas Day this year? I thought that maybe because it's been-"
Pain and anger surged through Carol. "STOP!" she screeched. "Don't you dare mention... just... don't!" She took a deep breath and calmed herself.
Bob heaved a heavy sigh, but showed no other reaction to her outburst. "OK," he said, sounding resigned.
His response annoyed Carol. He just didn't care or understand. "I-I may go for a walk in the morning," she said, her heart hammering against her ribs.
Bob looked up and raised an eyebrow. "Together?"
"N-no. I think I want to be alone, you know..."
Bob dropped his eyes and nodded. "Sure."
They sat opposite each other and ate in silence. Carol studied Bob. He was undeniably handsome. Scruffy brown hair, light blue eyes, and a chiselled jaw; from the day she'd met him, she'd been infatuated. He was tall too, and broad from years of construction work. He'd left school early and worked his way up from labourer to a position overseeing several sites at a time. It was long hours but his pay coupled with Carol's gave them a comfortable life and a sizeable savings account.
Bob's looks and physique weren't what Carol found most attractive about her husband. He was kind, and caring. He thought about others before himself and, although he had a hard reputation around the building sites, was a complete softy when it came to Carol. There was nothing he would not do for her. All in all, he was the perfect husband.
But the Bob who sat opposite Carol was not the Bob she'd fallen in love with. The light in his eyes was dimmed. His posture was defeated. It made Carol feel... guilty and angry. Such a confusing mix of emotions to deal with.
There was a gaping chasm between them. Carol was on one side with her back to it. Bob was on the other side shouting across it but she wouldn't listen. In her mind's eye, her back might have been to Bob and the chasm, but Brian was standing just in front of her.
The offer didn't leave Carol's mind over the following week. Christmas Day was rapidly approaching and she didn't know what to do. She wasn't sure if Bob sensed it, but the chasm was growing bigger and bigger, filled with the emptiness of things unsaid.
Thoughts of the meeting invaded her mind throughout the day and night. Funnily, she felt no thrill or arousal at the thought of doing anything with Brian. If anything, the notion repulsed her. No, it was the idea that she would be caught, that Bob would hate her. That he would get angry at her, scream at her. He would leave her.
Over the last three years, their sex life had dwindled to nothing. Carol took care of herself in the shower, although her orgasms were weak waves that manifested themselves as a lessening of her tension rather than a pleasurable release. She was fairly certain that Bob did the same, though she wasn't sure.
She rested her head on her pillow three nights before Christmas and stared at the gloomy ceiling. Bob was beside her, his breathing slow and steady. He'd always been the first to fall asleep. Once, she used to watch him, sometimes tenderly stroking his cheek and feeling nothing but love. He'd wake up and his eyes would brighten when he noticed her. He'd kiss her and they would make love. It had been some time since she'd done that.
She sighed and closed her eyes. Christmas morning would arrive in three nights, and with it the decision that would change her life.
*
Carol woke in the depths of the night with bumps crawling over her skin. They were not bumps from the cold, but from something altogether different. She felt like she was being watched, not by something evil or sinister, but she was being watched nonetheless.
She checked Bob, but he was still soundly asleep, his soft snores filling the room. Slowly, she crept out of bed and pulled on the fluffy dressing gown Bob had bought her for her last birthday.
Without knowing why, she padded softly from the room and downstairs into her living room. The fire was lit, filling the room with soft crackles and flickering light. Her heart beating rapidly, she glanced around the room and slowly walked over to it. Bob must have lit the fire before they went to bed so the room was warm in the morning.
She sat in her armchair and stared at the flames, her mind drifting from memory to memory.
Suddenly, an old church bell began to ring, making her jump. She cursed them for ringing so late into the night. The deep, hollow peals reverberated around the room and her heart constricted with pain. They reminded her of bells that she had heard a long time ago. Ones that made her want to thrust her hand into the fire to dull the pain in her heart.
The bells might have lasted half a minute, or a minute, but it seemed like an hour. As suddenly as they began, the bells abruptly stopped. They were succeeded by a clanking noise as if someone were dragging heavy chains over a stone floor.
Carol's first response was to call for Bob, but her shout was halted in her throat, which became choked with terror as the door to the living room flew open with a booming sound.
The dragging chains grew louder, coming closer. Surely Bob would wake and come to her, but Carol heard no sound of his waking.
Then, through the door came a figure. The flames in the fire leapt, illuminating its face.
Carol tried to scream but she couldn't. Her lungs wouldn't work, she couldn't force the air through her vocal cords and the scream died in her throat.
The same face... the very same. It was herself, but a decrepit version. Not in looks, but in bearing. A thick, heavy chain wound about her like a snake, clasped at her stomach, which she cradled painfully. The body was transparent, so that Carol could see the wall behind the figure through it.
The eyes were death-cold, filled with remorse and pain.
"W-what are you!?" Carol gasped. "What do you want with me!?"
"Much!" It was her own voice, there was no doubt about it. But it was deep and hollow, like it sounded from the end of a tunnel.
"Who are you?"
"Ask me who I
was
."
"Who
