Amber Ch 06

Although we were taking things slowly overall, we were definitely doing some less-than-slow activities. The kisses were deepening, the fondling was transforming to groping, and the spanking was becoming more frequent and more intense. Amber and I were practically making a "career" of keeping each other perpetually aroused when in each other's presence. Yet, with the exception of lifting her skirt or dress to spank her, all our activities had purposely been kept outside the clothing in an unspoken agreement.

The clothes only came off in private, so I had yet to see my loving companion naked. That was fine with me, for I could indeed wait, although it did not stop me from imagining what she must look like naked upon her bed masturbating furiously as I raptly listened from the hallway. I did consider buying a tiny camera and hiding it in her bedroom somewhere so that I could clandestinely watch her, but I loved Amber far too much to actually go through with something so secretive.

We had also enjoyed a few more dates in the interim. One was another bowling date, twice we went to see the latest films, and another date was to see a traveling production of Miss Saigon which was so superb that it had us both in tears.

Halloween was rapidly approaching, which meant buying candy and a few decorations for the neighborhood Trick-or-treat Day. I was not planning on wearing a costume, as I never had since moving to the area, but Amber insisted.

"So what do you propose someone my age should wear?" she asked as we washed the dishes together.

"Someone your age!?!" Her laughter was indeed musical. "You're not that old!"

I shrugged. "I'm not quite over the hill yet, but I'm still older than dirt."

"Ha! If that's the case, then perhaps we should wear Adam and Eve costumes."

It took me a moment to mentally process that. "So we should wear just fig leaves covering the sensitive parts?"

"I wouldn't mind!"

We shared a grin and I elbowed her arm. "Realistically, what do you propose someone my age should wear?"

Amber thought about that for a few moments as she dried a plate. "How about a stern disciplinarian?"

"Huh?" I definitely had not expected that response.

"You can be the disciplinarian, and I can be the naughty schoolgirl."

"I see..." I mused aloud. "'Don't Stand So Close to Me,' with a kinky twist."

"What?"

I smiled. "It's an old song." Then added with a wink, "You youngsters wouldn't understand."

She elbowed me.

In the side of the ribs.

Hard enough to make me wince.

However, she had planted the seed, and it was quickly taking root.

*****

"I've wanted one of these for years!" Amber gushed, twirling for me.

The naughty schoolgirl outfit was indeed naughty. The twirl caused the super-short plaid skirt to flutter up and reveal a simple white cotton panty and the unbuttoned top of her blouse to reveal still more of her cleavage. The amber pigtails, however, were the perfect touch in my opinion, making her truly appear to be the stereotypical naughty schoolgirl.

As for me, I wore a nice suit with the tie of Amber's school's mascot, to portray the role of a principal or a teacher. When I returned from my tiny office with a yardstick, that solidified my portrayal as the principal.

"You do realize," I commented, "that principals rarely ever use corporal punishment anymore."

"You do realize," Amber countered, "that naughty schoolgirls need it anyway."

I kissed her briefly, the cherry-flavored gloss upon her lips tempting me. But, it was almost time for the trick-or-treating to begin.

Our roles were simple. I would stand back, wielding the yardstick in a stern manner with an equally-stern expression on my face, and instruct the naughty schoolgirl to hand out candy to the visitors. For her part, Amber had to act sorry, and if anyone asked, she was to say that giving away the candy was part of her punishment for trying to give a student a sugar overload - not exactly a believable story, but Halloween does allow for at least a little bit of exaggeration.

For three hours, the kids came: princesses and pirates and goblins and vampires and animals and angels and cheerleaders and world leaders and South Park characters and Japanese schoolgirls and even Captain Kangaroo. It was an interesting parade of kids coming to our doorstep.

...and it was particularly interesting seeing the older Amber inside the house this year, giving out candy, instead of having Paul or Francina bringing a younger Amber to my house to ask for candy.

When the trick-or-treating was done, Amber finally closed the door, which must have been a relief to her given the relatively cool afternoon and the amount of skin she had exposed over the three hours of giving away the candy. However, I simply could not let this opportunity slip by.

"To my office now, young lady," I commanded in a strict tone, my facial expression stern to match.

To her credit, Amber slipped instantly back into the naughty schoolgirl role. "Yes, Sir," she said meekly, her eyes downturned.

I followed her to my office and closed the door behind us.

"You gave away virtually all of the candy," I noted. "That's good. But that still does not allow you to escape the yardstick."

"It doesn't?"

"No, it doesn't. But it does lessen your sentence."

"Oh."

Using the yardstick, I pointed to the desk. "Hands on the front of the desk and bend over."

Slowly, Amber moved to the desk and assumed the indicated position.

"Ten strikes," I announced. "But if your hands come off the desk, we start over again. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir."

Using the yardstick, I lifted the back of the super-short skirt, then hesitated to admire the view of her cotton-clad backside. I rubbed the flat of the yardstick against her, teasing her purposefully, making her squirm slightly with nervous anticipation.

The ten strikes all came swiftly, and Amber lurched forward each time with an unrestrained cry. Yet to her credit, she did not lift her hands from the desk, and she did not move too much. But at the end, she crumpled to the floor, her hands covering her aching anatomy, tears streaming down her face.

I set the yardstick on the desk, then knelt before her, taking the crying Amber into my arms, consoling her until her tears ceased a few minutes later and her lips met mine. The kiss was not tentative, and it spoke of a deep, profound bond which few could possibly ever understand.

However, as we ate dinner that night while watching football, Amber admitted to me: "I much prefer the spankings."