CITY vs COUNTRY

Happy Monday everyone.  Hope you had a good weekend. It was beautiful weather here - true spring.  I wasn't sure we were going to get but two or three days of it since we had those two weeks of 90's but it's gone back to normal.

I spent the weekend doing all that goes along with a new book coming out and I thank you one and all for your good wishes.  Don't forget to go write a review if you remember because it does make a difference to sales.

This week's story was a hard go.  Wasn't sure I was ever going to finish but alas, finally it's done.  Some weeks the words flow and other weeks it's like pulling teeth.  I think there a few teeth missing today.

Tomorrow, is a treat.  Ray and I are going to meet with another couple, someone you all know.  We haven't talked about sharing, so I let you know if it's okay with them.



Let me preface this by saying I’m a city girl.  I don’t cast any aspersions on being a city girl, it is a fact, and one that I had no control over.  My parents were city folk and even though they moved to suburbia they were still city folk.  So, my siblings and I were raised as city folk.

Somewhere along the line, my brother took a detour.  I suppose he got the bug when he joined 4-H. For those of you not in the know, i.e. city folk, Wikipedia describes 4-H as a global network of youth organizations who mission is 'engaging youth to reach their fullest potential while advancing the field of youth development. Some boys embrace the boy scouts, Mike embraced 4-H.  He became interested in all manner of agricultural and animal husbandry pursuits and by the time college rolled around there was only one choice for him – Texas A & M. 

In his junior year, he invited me to visit him for a football weekend. It was supposedly the biggest game of the season and I was finally old enough to be included in his circle of friends – meaning he didn’t think I would embarrass him.

He met my flight at Easterwood Airport with his friend, Kevin.  Kevin was the one with the transportation and thus my brother’s chauffeur for any excursions off campus.  Of course, it was a truck.  Kevin was a through and through country boy. He didn’t have any hay in his hair, or a chew in his jaw but his speech and manner identified him right away.  Mike had never shared, at least with me, much information about his college days or friends, so I had no idea what to expect of Kevin or anything else.

Kevin was a looker – tall, blonde and blue eyed, with the laid back manner of someone who knew what he wanted in life. I thought that was admirable and had no thought beyond that.  I didn’t realize then that what he wanted was me. His looks alone guaranteed him a shot at any girl but, he had made up his mind the minute he saw me stepping off the plane.  He later told me it was like a light bulb went on in his brain.  

Mike and his girlfriend Gloria, Kevin and I had a great weekend – the first of as many as we could afford.  By the end of his junior year, he had asked me to marry him.  I wasn’t sure I wanted to commit to the type of life he wanted but I said I would give it a try.  Giving it a try meant spending a summer at his family’s place.

Life at the Beckett’s house was so very different than ours, and it wasn’t just a city/country thing. In Kevin’s house, his father’s word was law which was not the case at our house. Kevin explained that his dad made the rules and growing up any divergence from these rules resulted in consequences ranging from extra chores to trips to the woodshed.  Yes, one actually existed on the Beckett’s farm.

One day I returned from an errand in town early and was surprised to hear Kevin’s mom and dad arguing.  I’d never heard them argue before and I didn’t want to intrude so I stayed on the porch but could still hear most of the conversation.  Finally, Mr. Beckett said enough was enough and he wasn’t listening anymore and since his words weren’t haven’t any effect, he would have to resort to other means.  “We will finish this discussion this evening,”  were his last words as he left. I didn’t think another thing about it until later that evening when Mr. Beckett asked Mrs. Beckett if she was ready to finish their discussion.  I watched the color drain from her face as she rose from her chair and went toward him.  He took her hand and they walked out the door.

“Is everything all right, your mother seemed a little hesitant?” I asked Kevin. It was then I told him about what I had witnessed earlier in the day.

“I’m sure everything is fine.  They probably have some unfinished business and will work it out.”

The next day all was right as rain between Mr. and  Mrs. Beckett.

It was toward the end of my summer stay at the Beckett’s that Kevin asked me how I felt about life in the country.  By then, I was deep in passionate love with Kevin and assured him that I could live anywhere as long as he was there and I could embrace whatever he had in store for us. He told me he wanted the kind of family life he and his mom had, and not the rambunctiousness of the life in my parents household.  I laughed but he said he was serious.  I should have paid more attention.

Our first real argument came the Christmas after we were married.  Until then it was all sweetness and light – you remember those first few months of newlywed bliss.  I wanted to go home for Christmas, Kevin didn’t.  He had a good reason, money was tight and he had agreed to take on extra work so he’d have the money to buy some cattle in the spring.  I knew that but I was being selfish. 

I continued to harangue him about it until one day he asked me if I remembered that time when he and his parents had unfinished business.  It took a moment but I remembered.  I shook my head yes.  That was when he explained the discussion was finished over his dad’s knee.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean my dad spanked my mom.  He took her out to the woodshed and they finished their discussion.”

“You mean to tell me that your dad spanks his wife?”

“Yes, and the same thing is going to happen to my wife if she doesn’t stop this Christmas business. We can’t afford it, that’s it.” 

He left me standing there, gape-mouthed at the information he has just imparted.  Once I recovered from the shock, rather than accepting his directive, my mind began working for a solution that better suited me.

My parents, although not wealthy, were comfortable.  When I called my mother and explained we wouldn’t be coming for Christmas and why, I knew the wheels of fate had turned in my favor.  Sure enough, a couple of days later, we received a Christmas card from my folks and inside were two airline tickets.  It probably would have been fine if my mom hadn’t put in the note.

When I showed the card and the tickets to Kevin, I watched my calm, patient, loving husband disappear.  “Did you put your folks up to this?”

“No. I simply told my mother we couldn’t afford to come.”

“Did you explain that it was not only a matter of the money but that I had taken on extra work so we could begin our cattle operation in the spring?”

I managed to sputter out the word no.

“I didn’t think so.  Here’s what’s going to happen.  If you want to spend Christmas with your folks, you go ahead and do so.  I spending it here so I can keep my commitment to my boss.  The next commitment I’m going to keep is one I hope you remember.”

With that, he took my arm and led me to our bedroom.  “We may not have a woodshed but I think it’s something I better start working on,” he told me.  “Go stand in that corner.

 “I will not.”  I told him in my most adamant voice.

“Suit yourself, but your bottom is going to pay the price for that sass.  The spanking you were going to get just increased tenfold.”

He’d never spanked me before so I didn’t have the faintest idea of what to expect.  In truth, I’d never been spanked before with the exception of a swat or two growing up.  It was nothing like I expected, or could even imagine.  He pulled down my jeans and panties and stuck me in the corner, pushing my nose to the wall.

“Now stay there.”  Stupid me, I immediately tried to move and tripped because my jeans and panties around my ankles hampered my movement.

“You’re deliberately being naughty and I’m going to cure the problem.  With that, he picked me up, threw me over his shoulder and slammed me onto the bed.  He sat down and pulled me across his lap but not before gathering the clothes brush from the closet.   I have to admire my husband, as upset as he was, the first swats, although stingy, weren’t bad.  I actually began to delight in the feel of his hand on my bottom.  Feeling excited and thinking this wasn’t that awful, I slipped into enjoying this spanking business. My pubic region met with the knob of his knee and was at the point where an orgasm was about to happen when things dramatically changed. Those hard, stingy swats turned into fast furious smacks.  His work-callused hands left me clutching the bedspread in response.  I began to count the seconds between smacks until they all blended together into one furious hurt and concentrating on anything but the pain was impossible.

When I thought I couldn’t take anymore, he stopped.  “Your main spanking is over,” he said.  I started to get up.  “No, I’m not through yet.”

“Yes, but you said the spanking was over.”

“You better start listening to what I say.  What I said was the main spanking was over.  This next spanking was for the sass and the disobedience of not standing in the corner.”

Before I could voice my argument, he began the assault on my already blazing bottom.  This time it was the clothes brush and at the first contact with my tush, I almost jumped up from the bed.

“Stay still and this will go much faster.”

I wanted to complain that maybe I should be doing it to him and see how still he could be but somehow I couldn’t mouth the words.  “Thank you, Lord.”

By the time he finished applying that damn thing to my ass, I couldn’t feel a thing.  I was numb, or so I thought.  He had stopped spanking but he pinched my cheeks for good measure and I wasn’t numb by any means.  I was hotter than a pepper sprout and not just my ass.  His erection poking into me told me he felt the same. 

Our lovemaking had always been good, but that spanking took it to a new level.  When we were both bathed in sweat and reveling in our bliss, I suggested that maybe we should soundproof the bedroom instead of building a woodshed.

He laughed and said it probably would be a good idea.

PS:  I didn’t go home for Christmas, I decided I was home.


That's is for today's tale.  Stay tuned for more Aimless Ramblings and don't forget to stop by and pick up a copy of Finding Home.