Monday, November 17, 2014

Weather Related Spankings

I, Barbara Jean Caldwell, hate this weather; it's awful.  I don’t know why we have to endure such horrible weather when we could be back in California enjoying the sunshine and warm sunny days.  But no, Derek insisted we move to Colorado, and not only that he didn’t want to be in a metropolitan area like Denver or Boulder, but up high where snow could come anytime from September to July.  Here it was only November, and the snow was already piled up outside. 

He and the kids liked it fine.  They are outside right now, making snow angels and shoveling the walks.  Crazy, that’s what they were, crazy.  Hell, it’s twenty-two degrees outside, and they’re out there looking like abominable snow people.  There’s not one piece of skin showing anywhere.  I think I’ll turn up the thermostat a little; I'm getting chilly just thinking about them outside.  Hope Derek brings in more wood when he comes in so I can stoke up the fire.

I pulled out my kindle and sat in front of the burning logs. I draped an afghan over my lap and ruminated how all of my spankings seemed to be weather-related.  I was determined that I would not be getting a spanking today. I was warm and cozy, and as long as I didn’t have to go outside, I’d be able to control myself.   I would think about our once wonderful cozy life in California.

Derek could work anywhere, one of those computer nerds, just give him a laptop and a phone, and he was set.  He made a good living; they wanted for nothing, and she knew she was lucky.  Then he had to go and ruin it.  He said he didn’t want his kids growing up not being able to experience four seasons. We could have just come for a day because in Denver, it wasn’t unusual to have all four seasons in one day.  He wanted clean air to breathe, and that’s why we had to move up here because Denver has smog too.  I have to admit it is pretty; we live in a great community, and the kids love it.

I threw a fit when he told me his decision. Derek had been talking about it for years, and I always managed to cajole him out of it before.  This time he held his ground and the next thing I knew, the realtor posted a sign in the front yard.  I went bananas.  My timing was way off because kids were in school, and he hauled me into the bedroom, pulled down my jeans and panties and laid into me. First with his hand and then with his belt – I was howling and calling him every name I could think of and each time I did the belt landed a little harder. He stopped but not because he was done.  No, he had me go stand in the corner to think about things.  Hell, the only thing I could think about was how much my butt hurt, but I didn’t dare to rub.  I stood there for at least an hour, it seemed like that to me.  He told me it was only five minutes, and I wasn’t about to argue. He hauled me back over his lap and started the spanking anew.  He told me this spanking was for the language, and I was lucky he was going to go easy on me.  Easy, hell, my bottom was already on fire, and he was making it worse.  By the time he was through. I was sure my bottom was black and blue, and that I wouldn’t be sitting for a week.  Neither part turned out to be true.  There were no bruises and I was sitting five minutes later, on the wooden chair in his office, writing, “I will learn to control my temper” five hundred times.  Let me tell you, sitting on that damn oak chair, with my bum on fire and sore, it was really difficult  to control my temper, but each time I wrote a line, I reminded myself why I was in this predicament,  bit my lip and squirmed a little more.

After that session, I was good for a while.  Derek took all of us on a trip to Colorado to find a house.  We found the house we live in now.  Newly renovated, it was much nicer than our house in California.  On a hill, nestled among the pines, it was picture perfect.  Well, at least in the summer.  From the deck, you could see the city nestled in the valley, and the mountain ranges  surrounding us, all pastoral and green. 

We moved in June, and I settled in thinking this wasn’t so bad, why had I raised such a stink?  We had a great summer; we hiked a lot; Derek took the kids fishing at the nearby lake; our neighbors were terrific.  Summer turned to fall, and the weather was still warm, beautiful sunny days, cool evenings and no bugs, what the hell was I thinking?  Then one day I happened to turn on the weather, and the weatherman was telling everyone to brace themselves - a Canadian Clipper was on its way.  Canadian Clipper, is that a sports team and why did we have to brace ourselves?  I lived in my own little world; it was usually a fun place.  For those of you not in the know, a Canadian Clipper sometimes known as the Alberta Clipper is a cold air mass pile-driving its way into the United States from the province of Alberta, not a sports team at all.

Anyway, one day in late October, it was 70 degrees at noon.  For those of you not familiar with temperatures in Colorado, the sun is very warm and 70 degrees is short weather.  Well, on that day, I went from shorts to longer pants to a sweater to a jacket. By the time we went to bed it was 15 degrees and dropping.  Welcome to life in our area of Colorado.  Little did I know; it was only the beginning.  I spent a lot of time complaining and a lot of time getting my little (okay not so little)tush reddened. Somehow, we managed to get through that first winter with my spirit unbroken.

Spring/Summer came earlier than usual, and I was beginning to revel in the weather when one morning, the first day of summer to be exact, I woke to two inches of snow on the ground.  You can imagine the rant, can’t you? The kids out of school for the summer was my only saving grace, but Derek warned that the first available moment we were kid free I was going to get my tush toasted.  By late morning, the kids on a play date, Derek held true to his word.  I don’t think the kids cleared the driveway before he had me against the kitchen counter, pants down, wooden spatula in hand, spanking away.  The pain in my butt was still there long after the snow had melted.

We had another beautiful summer and fall.  We learned to stock up on wood for the fireplace by the end of August; we had plenty of gas for the generator, and I now knew about a Canadian Clipper; I was ready; I braced myself. The weatherman even warned that the stripe on the wooly caterpillar was very large meaning a cold snowy winter.  I should not have been surprised.  After all, wooly caterpillars don’t lie.  But I wasn’t ready for frigid, and I mean frigid.  The new term I learned was Polar Vortex.  You would think I should have known better, after all I knew what polar meant.  Maybe so, but the day I heard the high for the day was going to be 5 degrees, all hell broke loose. 

Once again, the minute Derek returned from taking the kids to school; I was getting my hind end blistered.  He didn’t even stop to lecture, just began strapping away.  When he was done, I was literally dancing around, covering my butt and howling.  I seriously considered opening a window and sticking out my butt for a cool down. I didn’t think the neighbors would be watching and really, at that point, I wouldn’t have cared, except the windows were frozen shut.

However, this was another year and this year; I'm ready, as long as I don’t have to learn any new weather terms.  So it’s 22 degrees outside, I don’t care.  I’m in here and here I’ll stay.  Just don’t ask me to say I like it; even I can’t pretend that.