The last thing he heard as he walked out the door was, ‘to
get the right kind of baloney, not the kind bought the last time’.
He thought about that and wondered why he was the one doing
the shopping. It was Saturday, his day
off, and he’s out doing the grocery shopping.
She’s home all week, why isn’t she doing the shopping? He thought about all the household chores he
currently did along with keeping the outside maintained. Granted she fixed him breakfast every morning
and had dinner made most nights, except now that it was summer, he found
himself doing more of that too, because he was responsible for the
barbecue. Why this morning he even had
to get a clean towel out of the dryer because the linen closet was empty. He
supposed he should be grateful that she had transferred them from the washer
after he reminded her that he had started the load.
His neighbor Bill yelled good morning interrupting his
thoughts. He got in the car, turned on
some tunes and headed to the market.
Except, instead of turning right, he turned left. The further he drove,
the more rural it became and he found himself enjoying the music, the scenery
and the solitude. Not that he didn’t
have solitude. Hell, Janice was always
on the damn computer and half the time he wasn’t even sure if she knew or cared
whether he was there or not. Years back
he heard about people spending all their time in chat rooms and he wondered if
that was the case with Janice. Maybe she
had an on line lover – well, if she does, he's probably getting more verbal sex
than he was physical sex.
He kept driving until he saw a turn-off with a small hand-lettered
sign advertising homemade lemonade for sale.
Curiosity made him turn down what amounted to more of a lane, than a
road. At the end, there was a small
run-down shack. As he approached the
shack, the door opened and a grizzled old man and a young boy of about seven,
came out and immediately walked over to the market stand that stood a few yards
away.
“Good Day, Son.” The old man said. The young boy, tipped his head as if
repeating the salutation.
“Good Day to you also.
It’s a beautiful day for a drive and I saw your sign. I sure would love
a glass of your lemonade.” Hank told them.
The young boy took a glass from under the shelf, filled it with ice and then hefted the
pitcher of lemonade from the cooler. He
filled the glass to the brim and handed it over the counter along with a spoon
and a napkin. He pointed his head toward
the sugar container. Hank realized the
boy did not speak, not knowing whether he was just shy, or it was an
affliction. Hank thanked the boy and
reached into his pocket and pulled out a five-dollar bill. The boy shook his head no, the old man said
he didn’t have any change, and Hank said it didn’t matter. The boy then took the pitcher from the cooler
and put it on the counter next to Hank.
Hank got the message that he could have as many glasses as he wanted. He nodded his thanks, the boy acknowledged
with another shake of his head and walked off.
There were a small table and chairs under the shade of an
oak that had to be at least 100 years old judging by its height and girth. Hank took his glass and went to sit
down. He was surprised when the old man,
grabbed the pitcher and followed him to the table.
“Mind if I sit with you son,” the old man asked.
“Not at all,” Hank
told him.
After a few moments of silence, the old man spoke up.
“My name is Jake and I’ve been around a long time. You look as if you have a lot of your
mind. Do you want to talk about
it?"
Extending his hand, he said, “Nice to meet you Jake. My name is Hank, and this is the best damn
glass of lemonade I’ve had since I was a boy.”
“Yeah, my wife taught me how to make it and Hannah told me
she learned it from her mother. The
trick is to make a simple syrup and then stir it into the lemon juice and
water, instead of just spooning in sugar.
There’s something about the melting of the sugar first. Don’t know why, just know it always tastes
better. Of course, some lemons are
better than others, too. Some are
bitter, and some have their own sweetness – just like life’s lessons.
Hank shook his head in acknowledgement and wondered just
what Jake was trying to tell him.
“So do you and Hannah live here full-time?” Hank asked.
“Hannah passed on, but Will and I live in the old farm house
just beyond the trees over there. As you might have guessed, Will doesn’t
speak. It’s not a physical thing, he
just saw some horrible things when he was a youngster and hasn’t spoken
since. The people in the know think that
when his mind is ready to accept what he saw, he will find his voice. Until
then, he and I live here together, it's easier on him. He’s
a smart boy and I give him his lessons, now that Hannah’s gone. We were both school teachers once upon a time
and the state checks up on him on a regular basis, so he’s getting a good
education right here at home.”
Hank didn’t know what to say so he shook his head. The silence crept back in between them. A few moments later, the old man rose. “Well, I’ll leave you to your lemonade.”
When Jake moved a few steps away, Hank said. “Jake, I would like to talk. I hate to burden you with my tale of woe but
it would be good to get if off my chest.”
“Hank, there is no tale of woe that isn’t best shared with
someone else.”
“I don’t even remember when it started, I think it was
sometime after she quit work, but my wife and I are living separate lives
together. She treats me as if I was the
hired help most of the time. I don’t
know what happened to her, or to us, I just know I’m not happy and I don’t
think she is either,” Hank told him
“Have you shared your feelings?” Jake asked.
“I’ve tried but she doesn’t seem to be interested in me or
anything I have to say.”
“Sometimes, when words aren’t working, other methods are
necessary.”
“I have no idea what other methods you are talking about,
but I am willing to try anything if it will help our situation.”
“I’m an old-fashioned guy, and this is an old-fashioned
idea, but sometimes just because an idea or method is old – doesn’t mean it
won’t work. When I married Hannah, her
daddy took me aside on our wedding day and told me that if ever Hannah gave me
a hard time and wouldn’t listen to reason, I should take her over my knee, take
down her drawers and spank her bare bottom until it was good and red. Then he handed me a wooden paddle he had
crafted.”
Hank looked at Jake as if he had two heads.
“I know son; I know exactly what you’re thinking. At the time, I felt the same way. However, one day, about four years into our
marriage, Hannah did something that we argued about for days on end. She refused to listen to my reasoning and did
the exact same thing again two weeks later.
I heard her daddy’s words. That
evening, when our little one was asleep, I called her into the bedroom. I’ll never forget the look on her face when
she saw that paddle in my hand. I told
her to get undressed and get over my knee.
It was not pretty but eventually she was over my knee getting her bottom
reddened. She hooted and hollered
telling me I was killing her but, sometime during that spanking I noticed a lot
more than a red bottom, if you know what I mean. That was only the first of many spankings,
some good, some bad, but she was a lot more reasonable and listened to my words
after that first time.”
“That’s quite a story Jake but I can’t imagine Janice ever
putting up with that.”
“What do you have to lose?
I suggest you try talking to her again.
If that doesn’t work, tell her what you plan to do and then follow
through.”
“I could end up in jail.”
“I don’t believe a spanking would land you in jail. Once she realizes that if the police are
involved, everyone will know, she’ll
come to her senses. Mind you, it’s just
a spanking on her bottom, no hitting anywhere else. I know it’s not consentual but it worked for
me and for hundreds of people before and after me.”
Hank finished his lemonade and told Jake thanks for the
advice.
“I have to start home and I still need to get to the grocery
store.” They shook hands.
“Stop by again and let me know how things worked out.” Jake
said. Hank shook his head in agreement.
Hank thought about Jake’s words on the drive home. He was raised with the belief you never
struck a woman. He believed that, however,
was spanking the same as a slap across the face? After all, how many times had he given her a
slap on her bottom when they were first married? Did he consider that striking a woman? The answer was no, maybe Jake had something
there. He’s right. What do I have to lose? He made up his mind, he would talk to Janice
tonight.
He whipped through the grocery store and just for spite
bought the kind of baloney she didn’t like. If she starts complaining, I’m
laying down the law. Listen to yourself, he heard the voice
in his head saying; you're sounding like
an actor in an old movie.
He carried the groceries into the kitchen and sure enough
she was sitting at her computer. She jumped when he told her he was home, so
engrossed she hadn’t even heard him come in.
“Are you going to put away the groceries?”
“Can’t you do it?” he heard her say.
“Yes, I can but I went to the store, the least you could do
is put them away.” He heard her huff and
puff, and mumble something under her breath as she rose from the chair and came
into the kitchen.
When she came across the baloney, he saw the look of disgust
on her face.
“You bought the wrong damn kind once again. Didn’t I tell
you not to buy that kind again.” Her
words were filled with disdain.
“Yes, you did tell me, and I bought that kind on
purpose. When I do something you don't
like, it is the only time I get any attention from you, and it is going to
stop.”
“You have my attention now,” she told him.
“Yes, and you better listen to what I have to say. We are in trouble Janice. I’m not sure you even know that, but we
are. You sit at that computer, hour
after hour, day after day. You hardly do anything around here, and I’m tried of
working all day and picking up after you on nights and weekends.”
“I fix you breakfast and dinner. I’m not a slave, you know.”
“And I am?” he responded.
She looked at him as if he was a piece of lint on a blue suit.
“There are certain things I expect you to change. For
starters, from this day forward, you’re taking back the grocery shopping chore.
If you don’t do it, then neither will I.
Two, you will at least acknowledge me when I come home, I don’t think
that’s asking too much; and, three you will do the house and your own laundry,
if you don’t want to do mine, I’ll do it.
There are other things too, but we’ll start with those.”
“And if I don’t.”
“Unless there’s a very good reason, I am going to do
something I never thought I would do. I
am going to turn you over my knee and spank you. If you want to have me arrested for doing so,
be my guest. I can just image the looks
on people’s faces when they learn you were spanked like a naughty child.”
“I never”
“Maybe not, but just try me.
Now, unless you have done so since I left, there’s still laundry in the
dryer to be folded and another load waiting.
Furthermore, I stripped the bed this morning, and it needs to be remade.
Have you done either of those things?”
“No,” she answered haughtily.
“Then I suggest you get to them now or else.”
She rolled her eyes and gave him the one-finger salute.
He didn’t hesitate. He pulled out
a kitchen chair, took her arm and pulled her down over his lap. She was fighting him every step of the way.
He merely put his arm over her back and crossed his leg over hers until she was
locked in his grasp. He used his other
hand to lift her skirt and pull her panties into the crack of her lovely
ass. This
isn’t what I expected, he thought to himself as he felt his cock harden, focus on the matter on hand. She was still yelling at him and calling
him every name she could think of when the first smack landed. He didn’t hold back and delivered smack after
smack as he watched her bottom turn from white to pink to rose color. He stopped a few seconds to admire his
handiwork and remembered what Jake had told him about Hannah’s arousal. He was
surprised to see Janice’s wetness; so I’m not the only one aroused by this
spanking, he thought to himself. He resumed the spanking
and watched as his hand would flatten her flesh and then bounce back, over and
over. Once her ass was a lovely shade of
red and his hand probably hurt as much as her bottom, he stopped. He held her in place a few moments, before
releasing her. He braced himself
because he wasn’t sure what to expect – she could get up swinging for all he
knew.
He was surprised when she stood, put her hands back and
rubbed her sore behind. She pulled her
panties out of her crack and lowered her skirt.
Still unsure what to do, Hank hugged her. Surprisingly, she hugged him back and then
went off to the laundry room. He watched
in amazement as she began taking the clothes out of the dryer.
I’ll be damned, he thought to himself, Jake was right. He decided
he would take Janice on his next visit so she could meet Jake and have a glass
of Hannah’s lemonade and maybe Jake would tell her a story too.
