Shadow Lane Volume 4
The Chronicles of Random Point
by Eve Howard
Shadow Lane Volume 4: The Chronicles of Random Point,
Spanking, Sex, B&D and Anal Eroticism in a Small New England Village
Copyright ©2009 by Eve Howard
ISBN-13 978-1-926585-32-1
Second Edition
Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication
Howard, Eve, 1953-
Shadow lane volume 4: the chronicles of random point, spanking, sex, b&d and
anal eroticism in a small New England village / written by Eve Howard – 2nd ed.
Electronic monograph in PDF format.
ISBN 978-1-926585-32-1
Also available in print format.
I. Title.
PS3608.O82S534 2009a 813'.6 C2009-903096-9
Cover artwork by Tarsis: www.briantarsis.com
Shadow Lane Volume 4 was first published by Blue Moon in 1998,
Copyright © Eve Howard.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Extreme care has been taken to ensure that all information presented in this book is accurate and up to date at the time of publishing. Neither the author nor the publisher can be held responsible for any errors or omissions. Additionally, neither is any liability assumed for damages resulting from the use of the information contained herein.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the express written permission of the publisher. Printed in the United States of America and the United Kingdom.
Publisher: CCB Publishing
British Columbia, Canada
Dedicated to Stephanie Locke
Shadow Lane Volume 4
The Chronicles of Random Point, Spanking, Sex, B&D and Anal Eroticism in a Small New England Village
Contents
Chapter 3 – Chronicles of Random Point
Reader Reviews about the Shadow Lane Series
Chapter One Miss Oliver (A Retrospective Random Point Story)
One Friday afternoon in the early autumn of 1958, sunny Miss Oliver, who taught first grade at The Crescent Elementary school in Random Point, Massachusetts, was walking towards the teachers’ lounge with the amiable Mr. Johanson, who taught sixth grade, when both were witness to a small scene in the second floor corridor involving the strict, third grade teacher Miss Kranz and two of her female pupils. The little girls hugged the corridor wall, looking up at Miss Kranz with abject terror as she took turns shaking them by the shoulders and demanding to know what they meant by spitting at each other in her classroom.
“But we were just saying ‘petunia,’” one of the children tried to explain.
“Never mind that, you’re both disgusting!” accused the very thin and stylish Miss Kranz.
It upset Miss Oliver to see a child scolded, no less manhandled, and she averted her gaze. But Mr. Johanson gave Miss Oliver a long, hard look, as they passed, not bothering to conceal his disapproval of her manner.
“I want you to put your tablets on my desk, girls. I’m writing you both notes home,” said Miss Kranz to the trembling children.
“Yes, Miss Kranz,” the two frightened girls replied and ran back into their classroom.
Once they were well beyond the classroom of Miss Kranz, Mr. Johanson scowled, “What makes that girl so mean?”
“Do you think she’s really mean?” Miss Oliver didn’t like to think badly of anyone.
“One of those little girls’ father has an awful temper and will probably spank her tonight when she gives him that note to sign.”
Miss Oliver felt a queer little thrill ripple through her core when Mr. Johanson mentioned spanking. She’d felt the sensation before, particularly while watching certain episodes of I Love Lucy and Wagon Train, and was certain that her own interest in the subject of spanking was naughty and possibly not to be shared with anyone. (Unless they brought it up first, as Mr. Johanson had.)
“Don’t you approve of spanking, Mr. Johanson?” Miss Oliver asked daringly.
“Oh, enthusiastically, but only for adults,” he replied, thinking how badly Miss Kranz needed one.
“I’d
