This short story is an entry in the 2002 Soc.Sexuality.Spanking Summer Short Story Contest and is copyright by the author and commercial use is prohibited without permission. Personal/private copies are permitted only if complete including the copyright notice. The author would appreciate your comments
Category: Period Another in my series: Spanking Time and Space
Love Sculpture
By
Former Senator Catullus Salanius Pollio gazed wistfully across the Bay of Naples in vain hope for a glimpse of Rome. That he knew it could never be seen from his terrace of exile, was only a physical impediment. His mind was still at the Center Of The World and his body still longed to stride the marble floors of the Senate of Rome. Catullus sighed, an exhalation of longing and loss that could only be soothed by one small thing: the dearest and most precious possession of his vast estates.
At that very moment, his dearest and most precious was peeking from behind a nearby pillar, ready to pounce upon the dear father she loved. Almost levitating with excitement, Diana shivered and hugged herself, then tiptoed in an exaggerated stalk.... stop, stalk..... stop, to a column nearer her beloved prey. It was a game they played almost every evening, just as the sun began its colorful plunge into the silver blue sea, dousing the day and loosing the night
But on this lovely afternoon, Catullus was not looking forward to the arrival of his young daughter and her innocent joy in sneaking to surprise him. With a rueful grimace and reluctant aching heart, he knew that this evening he must punish his child. Her offense was one that a Patrician of ancient and high lineage could never excuse, for Diana had been rude and disobedient to a servant. Since her mother's death during the last plague, he would allow none of the servants to discipline her, and rarely did so himself. But she must be taught this most important lesson. Respect for all persons, regardless of rank or station, was so ingrained in Catullus' character, to do otherwise was unthinkable. If only the Emperor had demonstrated a similar character and respect for those that argued for reforms and fought for the rule of law..........
Diana was a coiled spring, tense and ready to leap upon her father and into his arms, when a sudden rumbling shock sent her sprawling, arms outstretched, onto the unyielding terra cotta tiles. She landed hard, on her tummy, partially breaking her fall with her hands. Sharp pain shot from her wrists up her arms and Diana burst into tears. Her cry tore Catullus from the balustrade and he strode to the rescue, plucked her from the tiles and into the security of his arms.
Catullus carried Diana to a marble bench and sat, cuddling her to his chest, kissing away her tears. His need to punish receded as her need to be comforted took precedence. The rumbling grew louder, became a deafening roar and an impossibly hot wind filled the terrace, ripping breath from the man and girl.
Catullus cradled his child in a last embrace, hugging her with a fervor as fierce as the seething magma deep inside nearby Vesuvius. There was only one brief moment of communion before love was swept away by the raging incandescent ash.
The End
© Copyright by Koalabear (Woody@lava.net) June, 2002
Reviews
Tami <tamishy(at)webtv(dot)net>
I like the title, I didn't get it until after I read the story. It is very sad, captivating, but sad. I think the writer choose a difficult theme here. It's hard to like a story that makes you feel bad. But, any story that generates a reader's response, means it was well-written to begin with. Good Effort.
John <johnb(at)ssec(dot)wisc(dot)edu>
This is really quite remarkable. A frozen moment in time, well-framed, complete, and sadly unexpected. It's a kind of story I wish we saw more of: a story about people who spank and are spanked, rather than a story whose central nexus is a spanking.
I'll defer to the author in terms of historical accuracy. I'm not familiar with the period enough to know whether exiled Patricians were ever sent away so close as Pompeii or Herculaneum. Asia Minor was more common. But the attitude of the father rings true. A sense of duty and responsibility to act noble if one was, which was later to break down as the Empire became more hedonistic and corrupt.
Truly lovely
Pablo Stubbs <Pablo.Stubbs(at)newsguy(dot)com>
A brilliant concept, brilliantly executed. The particular magic in this moment, this period, is that of course we're perfectly able to imagine - hardly able not to - the petrified state continuing undiscovered for centuries, and still remaining frozen to this day. So the period stretches forever, as does the love. It's a very effective metaphor for the timelessness of love.
MollyB <mollyb(at)newsguy(dot)com>
Very nice period piece, and something out of the ordinary. The relationship between the father and daughter is nicely drawn.