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Short Story Siobhan and the banshee


In this spooky little Hallowe'en tale, we're going to drop in on Siobhan and Michael, the
two main characters from My Naughty Little Secret...

This short story was written for the spank or treat blog hop Hallowe'en 2013

*****



“I’m so glad you’re here for an Irish hallowe’en,” Siobhan told Michael. “It’s as old as the Celts and the pagan feast of Samhain. October 31 marked the end of the old Celtic calendar, and they believed the ghosts of dead walked the earth on that night and had all sorts of customs to ward off evil spirits.”


“You didn’t tell me before you dragged me up the aisle that I was marrying a crack pot. Honestly you’re not to be filling this pair’s heads with all that nonsense.” Michael looked behind affectionately at his fifteen month old son and daughter, securely fastened in the baby chairs as they drove along the N4 to Sligo.

“It’s not nonsense. Surely even you’ve heard of the banshee.”

"Oh dear Lord, don’t tell me I’m going to get a full weekend of this…” Michael groaned.


Fond and all as he was of Siobhan’s family sometimes he found them to be just so Irish. Already he could imagine that dinner this evening would be a noisy affair, the whole family around the big table, intent on ‘educating’ the English man. He knew from experience that he could take half of the crap they fed him with a pinch of salt.



Easkey by night, image copied from TripAdvisor
As they arrived at the Brennan home in the seaside village of Easkey, Siobhan’s Auntie Ailish was standing at the front door, peering down the street, as they pulled up. Michael liked her very much. She had an uncanny way of knowing what was going on in her grand-nieces' lives without being told. Rumour had it she read playing cards, telling the future, for half of the neighbourhood since her arrival, but she totally refused to look at them for her family. She had moved in with the Brennan family only a couple of months earlier, due to ill health.

“I knew you were arriving,” she said by way of greeting as Siobhan and Michael stooped to kiss her leathery weather-beaten cheek.


As they entered the kitchen, the aroma of freshly fried bacon and boxty, the traditional halowe’en tea, filled their nostrils along with the chatter of a bustling family. Shrieks worthy of the most terrifying banshee rang out as they all cooed over the twins, now crying from the cacophony of sounds and sea of strange faces.

“I’m babysitting tonight so you two can go out,” Ann told them in a voice that brooked no argument.

“But mind you douse yourselves in holy water to ward off the evil spirits,” Auntie Ailish warned.

Michael just about managed to turn his guffaw into a passable cough as Siobhan kicked him hard under the table.

“Auntie Ailish sees ghosts and hears the banshee,” Siobhan warned him in a whisper as soon as she could.

Great it was now official, not only was his wife a crackpot but it seemed it ran in the family. He resisted the urge to argue, knowing it would be a waste of time. But by God, he resolved that Siobhan was going to pay for the bruise he could feel forming on his shin at the first possible opportunity. He looked forward to the thought; she hadn’t earned a proper spanking in such a long time.


The old lady leaned over and spoke very quietly in Michael’s ear: “Just because you can’t see something doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist, young man.” Auntie Ailish warned. “And if I were you I wouldn’t let Donal know what you intend doing to his daughter, he mightn’t see it her way.”

“You’re gone white as a sheet Michael, do you feel all right?” Ann asked with concern.

“I’m fine, just the heat of the kitchen,” he answered. Damn, did that woman just read his mind, he wondered?

“Will you tell us about the ‘shee, Auntie Ailish? I know it terrifies me but Michael has never heard it.” Aislinn begged.


Bunworth Banshee, Fairy Legends and
Traditions of the South of Ireland by
 Thomas Crofton Croker, 1825 from
Wikipedia
“When one of my relations dies, I always hear the wail of the banshee. It’s a gift that gets handed down generation to generation, like the “cure”, or the “second sight”. Although it’s a strange ‘gift’. Usually, I hear it before they die, and I know someone is soon to depart this earth. They say it follows the O’s and the Mc’s, but most families have lost it by now. I think it’s because they doubt. And tonight’s a special night to me, all of the ghosts of my loved ones will be close at hand, I might even get to see or talk to some of them, if the luck is with me.”


Michael was listening to her with more respect, knowing she had just seen inside hishead. She was certainly an uncanny woman. She related stories from her youth, how she had first realised she could see the dead as a young child, and strange people would sit on the edge of her bed at night. But they hadn’t scared her. Only talked. And when she spoke to her mother about it, her mam had just told her she had the gift, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. He could feel shivers down his spine as she told him about hearing the banshee the night her mother died unexpectedly. She had heard the wail three times in her bed, and had arisen three times to greet the banshee, but each time it stopped. It was only when she saw her mother plainly at the foot of her bed she knew who the banshee was wailing for. It came as no surprise when the telephone rang at five am, announcing her mother’s massive stroke.

“What surprises me most is that none of you lot have ever heard it. It’s already skipped one generation. I’d hate to think it’ll die off with me, especially as my time is so nearly up.” Auntie Ailish said with a sigh.

“I think there is more than enough life in you to keep you going another while,” Michael laughed. What was it with old people? They were always in such a hurry to write themselves off in words but in action, the closer death came a knocking the harder they fought him back.


After feeding time at the zoo, as Michael had come to think of mealtimes in the Brennan household, the family all scattered their various ways, Donal, Ann and Auntie Ailish went to see Donal’s parents and the younger clan members went out on the town early as the local pub was hosting a bonfire. Siobhan and he settled the terrified twins who had spent the last hour crying at every doorbell chime signalling more scary trick-or-treaters and even scarier relations. Finally there was peace. 


Michael raised his trouser leg. “Look what you did, young lady,” he said ominously. Siobhan looked contrite at the sight of the blue round mark that had formed on his leg.

“Oops, I suppose I kicked you a bit too hard, sorry about that, but you were going to laugh at Auntie Ailish and that would have been a big mistake.”

“So you made the mistake instead, not a very respectful way to treat your husband is it? Get ‘em off.”


Siobhan had her jeans down around her ankles before he could say “Jack o’ Lantern”.


“Could you not at least pretend to be scared or reluctant, it is supposed to be a punishment you know.”

“Sorry, it’s just been so long. If I’d known a kick would have done the trick you’d have had blue shins months ago.”

“Come here, you naughty brat, over you go. I’ll soon wipe that smile to the other side of your face.”


Siobhan draped herself across his lap, her very favourite place in the whole wide world. He kneaded her bottom, still in perfect shape even after pregnancy and childbirth. He let his hand slip between her legs and chuckled at the pool of moisture that was waiting for him. He’d definitely left it too long. She took a sharp breath in as he lightly pinched her clit.

“Bad girl, you’re all wet already.”
He brought his hand down in a sharp crack causing Siobhan to moan in pleasure. He spanked harder and she moaned again. Over and back, up and down, he spanked, whacked and thwapped. But there was no sign of remorse on his lovely lady who was relishing every moment of it. He was stunned to hear her shout stop. Her body certainly didn’t want him to stop. She tensed up and became alert.

“What’s up?”

“I heard a cry, I think the twins are awake.”

Siobhan rose off his lap. He listened but could hear nothing and pushed her back down across his knee, raising his hand.

“Listen, there it is again.” And again Michael could hear nothing.

“I’ll check the babies,” he volunteered, eager to get back to her behind.

“Flat out,” he told her as he returned. “Now where were we?”

He undid his belt and slipped it out through the loops and saw Siobhan shiver at the sound it made - at last she was taking notice! Even already he noticed some of the red had faded to pale pink and he had every intention of deepening the blush. He piled the pillows in the centre of the bed and guided her across, folding his belt double. Her bottom was sticking up delightfully. The dilemma was whether to spank or just take her like that. He could surely manage a few strokes before he gave into his lustful desires, Siobhan would gloat at his weakness for her behind if he didn’t. He brought the belt down across the centre of her cheeks and she gave a small yelp, making him feel triumphant. He repeated this five times when he felt a chill steal into the room. He halted in his tracks.

“What’s wrong, Michael?”

“I don’t know, something walked over my grave.”

“God you’re nearly as bad as us now.” she replied.

Michael looked towards the door. Sitting on a chair beside the door was Aunty Ailish.

“Don’t let me stop you, sonny! Give her what for. She’s bold enough to need it.”

Michael’s mouth fell open, his belt dropped on the bed and he quickly placed his hands to hide his massive erection which was rapidly drooping.

“What the hell?” he shouted. Siobhan jumped up. “Your Auntie Ailish is there. He pointed towards an empty corner.

“Michael are you crazy? She’s gone with Mam and Dad.”

“No! She was there I swear, did you not hear her say to carry on?”

They could hear footsteps running towards the front door and Siobhan quickly pulled on her jeans, forgetting her panties in her haste to be decent. The front door slammed shut and Donal was shouting for them.


“Can one of you bring me to Sligo General hospital? Auntie Ailish had a heart attack, your mother is gone in the ambulance and I don’t think I’m safe to drive as I just had a whiskey with Dad.”

“Is she ok? What’s happening?”

“I’ve no idea, your mam has no phone. Please hurry.”

“I’ll do it, I know the way. You’ll be ok with the babies won’t you?” Siobhan said to Michael. Again, she heard a horrible wail. “Looks like they want to join in the melee anyway, that’s them off.”

“They’re not crying, Shiv.”

Three cries, Auntie Ailish sitting on the chair. Michael knew with a horrible clarity that Auntie Ailish had gone from this world, and she had passed Siobhan the so-called “gift” while giving him proof that it was real.


©Tara Finnegan 10/10/13










































Now I'll leave you with a little thought, I often wondered if it is entirely a coincidence that Banshee, the shrieking woman sounds so like "bean an ti" pronounced ban-an-chee, which means the woman of the house? A man is behind that one for sure : )

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