Page 383 of Dirty Discipline, Vol. 1

“We kill the villains and end the film. Then we should be able to go home.”

“I already killed the villain. If you recall, you got cranky with me and smacked my bottom for it.” She lifted her chin, smiling playfully. “Rather hard, too, I might add.”

“We’re coming up on Scene Seventeen, so I’m going to get to smack your bottom some more.”

“Not too hard though, right?”

“That depends entirely on how well you perform your duties in reclaiming your bracelet,” Morgan said.

“You killed my hand trying to get that damn—”

“Language,” he said dryly.

“That thing,” she quickly amended, and cleared her throat because his hand had moved low enough to pat her right bottom cheek, “off my wrist. Now you want me to go back after it? Why?”

“Because it was a gift from your father and it has sentimental value.”

“Blodgett Cemetery,” Audrey softly sang.

“It’s also the main reason why you’re going to get spanked afterward,” Morgan told her. “Although if the writers of this film knew you as well as I do, they’d have added a heck of a lot more spanks to the script and given me a hairbrush to dispense them. Sadly, as the script stands, for doing something so foolish as to sneak away from the dance, putting yourself into an incredibly dangerous situation, and forcing me to chase you down, I’m only going to give you eleven blistering swats on camera and six off as the credits begin to roll.”

“Seventeen swats?!” Audrey stopped dancing and glared at him. “Blistering?! I still can’t sit from the last one you gave me!”

“I promise, until the writers provide that much beloved hairbrush, for the Scene Seventeen spanking, I’ll only use my hand.”

“I’d just as soon not go to the cave and not get spanked for it, thank you very much.”

“Hey, it’s in the script.” Morgan shrugged. “I’ve got no choice. And neither do you. Not if we want to go home.”

“Right. And we do want that, don’t we?” She sounded sulky, and he leaned back to check her face.

Sighing, Morgan pulled her close again. “You have to go, Audrey. It’s—”

“If you say it’s in the script one more time,” she growled, “I’m going to punch you right in the nose.”

“Just one more time and then it’ll all be over.”

“And then things really will be over,” she muttered. The teasing light had gone completely out of her and she was frowning intensely.

“What?” Morgan asked.

“Nothing.” Audrey turned her face away from him, glaring out across the dance floor, hardly seeing the other students or the decorations and spinning lights.

“Audrey.” Morgan cupped her chin, trying to bring her back so he could see her eyes. “Look at me.”

Suddenly, she shoved him back and ran for the door.

“Audrey!” He chased her out through the parking lot. It didn’t quite occur to him that they’d likely have to redo the scene until he caught up to her by the flagpole. “Hey!”

He grabbed her arm, swinging her around so he could catch her shoulders with both hands. She had tears pouring down her face that she couldn’t scrub away fast enough.

“Oh baby,” he said, laying her head upon his shoulder. “It’ll be all right. I’m almost positive that we’ll be home after the credits roll.”

“What does that matter?” she demanded, not moving in his arms. He hugged her tightly, but her arms remained limp at her sides and she made no move to accept the comfort he offered or even to comfort him in return. “We’ll both be back in our separate homes. We might even be back in our separate times. What’s our chances of ever seeing one another again?”

“We won’t be on different planets,” he told her.

Audrey laughed. It was a bitter sound. “It doesn’t matter. No future plans, right?”

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