Monday, November 28, 2016

The Perils of Winter

Hello - Well Thanksgiving and for all intents and purposes, November is over.  Coming up to the last month of 2016 - it just started didn't it?  Remember when you had to remember to change dates on checks etc. - never happens any more.  Ahh, the good ole' days.  

This week's story was tough going.  Some weeks they flow right out, others it's like pulling teeth. Gone are the days when they flowed out of me like water and I was always a couple of weeks ahead - not anymore, now it's usually on Sunday and I'm still procrastinating.  Oh well, at least they're still coming, right?

Barbara Helmsley was taking a sheet of cookies from the oven when she looked out the window and saw the first snowflakes of the season starting to fall and stick to the ground. She had a love/hate relationship with the snow,  As a little girl growing up in Southern California, snow was something magical. Sure, she’d seen snow, her parents routinely took her and her brother to Big Bear every year.  They’d have snowball fights, go sleigh riding, ice skating and then they’d drive back down the mountain, exchange their mountain wear for beach wear and life would go on.

Her brother, Jack loved the change of season and decided to go to college at the University of Colorado at Boulder.  He rarely made the quick trip home to California after that, so our parents and I made the trek to Colorado on a regular basis.  In his junior year, Jack roomed with a fellow that was born and raised in Montana and the rest, as they say, is history.  Barbara Watkins married her brother’s roommate and moved to the wilds of Montana, Livingston, MT to be exact, population about 7,000 people.  Livingston was the county seat of Park County, an old western town on the Yellowstone River and a gateway to Yellowstone National Park.  Connor Helmsley was a member of the Park County Sherriff’s Department.

The snowflakes meant winter was finally making its presence known after a temperate, longer than usual fall. Winters here were long and often harsh, and she detested that often Connor was caught rescuing some jackass who had no business being out in weather when they hadn’t the slightest clue of what and what not to do.   

Shortly after Connor was hired and before they were married, Barbara was one of those jackasses.  Despite being warned of treacherous road conditions, she ignored all of the warnings and found herself stranded in a snowbank.  She had no idea where she was, cell phone service was nonexistant, and her only saving grace was that she had proper winter clothing that kept her warm until a passing snow plow driver spotted her car.  Connor and his fellow workers had been combing the roads looking for her for hours because she was way overdue.  When the snow plow driver called in, Connor was there in minutes. 

She expected him to be all loving and glad to see her.  The latter was true, but loving – loving in a very tough way.  The minute he got her to his newly rented home, he took her over his knee and wore her out.  She hadn’t been spanked since she was a little girl and never expected to be spanked as a grown woman.  Little did she know then that Connor was a spanker and once they were married she was over his knee so often, in the beginning, she swore she didn’t sit comfortably the first three months they were married. 

It wasn’t something they discussed before marriage.  Sure he swatted her bottom a time or two, but that first spanking was the first clue she had about his proclivities.  Now there were all kinds of spankings; the fun kind, the discipline kind, the stress relief kind and sometimes when he determined it necessary, the maintenance kind.  She received a lot more of the maintenance kind in the winter.  Barbara Helmsley might be married to a born and bred Montana man but she was still a California girl and she didn’t like winter.  She didn’t like it even more when Connor had to go out into it which happened at the very least six months of the year.  She hated he had to go on search and rescue missions, and drive on treacherous roads in horrible weather conditions.  She worried more about that than him being shot in a bank robbery or some other criminal activity and she harangued him more about moving to warmer climes.  In truth, she didn’t think it would ever happen but she was ever hopeful.

Barbara went back to ignoring what was happening outside and continued baking her cookies. There was a cookie exchange at the school this week and if you brought two dozen cookies, you came home with two dozen cookies someone else had baked.  It was a big social event for Livingston, Montana.  It was also a chance to catch up on all the gossip – Lord knew that Connor never revealed a thing.

By the time Connor came home for dinner, the snow had accumulated with at least six inches on the ground and it was still coming down.

“I’m glad you’re home.  We can sit by the fire and have a nice quiet evening. If you treat me right, I’ll even let you eat some of the cookies I baked today,” Barbara told her husband.

“Treat you right, why honey, I always treat you right.” She laughed at him.

“Yeah, even when you’re wearing me out and bringing me to tears, right.”

“Right.”   She laughed again.

With dinner over and dishes done, she joined him in the family room.  She cuddled up on his lap and had just settled in when the phone rang.

“Don’t answer it.”

“Honey, if it’s work they are only going to call me on the radio. Might as well just pick up the landline.”

Sure enough, Barbara heard his end of the conversation.  Apparently, one of the other deputies had called in sick and Connor was called to fill in.

“Can’t they get someone else?”

“Honey, I was the last one on the list.  I’m going in, don’t make it any harder than it already is.”

Barbara knew she should just accept it but that was not her way.  She whined and carried on how much she hated his job, the weather, this place and anything else she could think of at the moment.

“Okay, Barb, I get it, it’s the same ole, same ole.  Now you’re going to get it.”  With that, he maneuvered her over the back of the sofa.  “This time though you’re getting the belt.”  She heard the belt swoosh out of his pants and felt the cool air on her bottom as he pushed down her jeans and panties.

She felt the first line of fire across the center of her buttocks.  It was like a swarm of bees attacked her all at once.  She hadn’t even processed this first lash before two and three followed suit.  Her toes were dancing across the floor when she felt his hand press down on her back.

“Stay still, or you’re going to get hit someplace other than your bum.”

“It hurts.”

“I hate being obvious, but it’s supposed to hurt.  It’s supposed to teach you a lesson that my job requires me to go out in any kind of weather. One you should know by now, after all, you are a teacher."

Lash four and five followed shortly thereafter.  They took away her breath which was a good thing because otherwise she might have said something to the effect that he should change jobs which would have earned her more than he planned.  Instead, she just accepted her punishment.  She heard him drop the belt and figured she had escaped.  But no, he removed her from the back of the couch, sat down on the couch and pulled her across his knee.  There he began to spank her with his bare hand.  He spanked up and down and across the welts raised by the belt until her whole ass was on fire. 

He finally stopped spanking, kissed her on the forehead and deposited her in front of the fireplace.  “Now you can enjoy the fire, both here and in your ass,” and he chuckled.

“You think that’s funny.”

“Yeah, I do.  Of course, you could always go outside and make snow angels.  I’d love to watch the steam rise up when your hot bottom touches that cold snow.”  He chuckled again.

“You’re such a meanie.  Go.  I hope you get cold and wet and miserable.”

“I won’t babe, I’m on the desk tonight.”

“You mean to tell me you knew that all along and still let me carry on.”

“Yup, and I enjoyed every minute of it.”

She stuck her tongue out at him and started to walk outside to cool down – both her temper and her ass.

“Are you sure you want to do that? There’s still time for some hot monkey sex before I have to go in.”

“Then what are we waiting for,” she replied.

See you later for more Aimless Ramblings.

Thursday, November 24, 2016

Happy Thanksgiving


Hope those of you celebrating Thanksgiving today have a wonderful day.

See you later for more Aimless Ramblings.

Monday, November 21, 2016

Opposing Points of View

I just realized that I should have written a story with a Thanksgiving theme. Sorry about that, didn't even realize in my haste to get a story written and posted for Monday.  

I understand that today is our English Rose's Birthday - a big shout out to Jan to have a very happy day and better year.  I wanted to announce that Lilli Claremont was the winner of the drawing for one of my books. 

A busy week coming up for many of us and I won't keep you any longer.  Here's my unThanksgiving story.

Abigail watched in the mirror as Bob walked into the room and sat on the bed.  She halted the brush mid-stroke, and when he patted the mattress, she began to cry.  The tears were falling as he called her to him.

“Girl, you can cry all you want.  It’s not going to work this time.  You are still getting spanked.”


“But nothing.  Did you really think I wouldn’t find out? “

“I was hoping that maybe you wouldn’t hear.  I should have known there was no way your buddies would let this slip by. Can I explain?” She sobbed.

“What explanation could there possibly be?”

“You know how sometimes things just snowball and one thing leads to another.”

“Is that supposed to be an explanation?”

“Bob, you know what it’s like.”

“No, you tell me.”

As Abigail began to tell her tale of woe, Bob looked at her.  Her tears were still falling and she kept sniffling so he reached over and grabbed a tissue.  She looked at it as if it were a foreign object.

“Blow your nose and stop sniffling.  I can’t understand what you’re saying.”

She wiped her eyes and blew her nose.  He loved this woman and never more than this moment.  Every moment with her was that way – even when she was making his life a living hell.

Bob was a law enforcement officer in a small town in an area of small neighboring towns. Everyone knew everyone and there wasn’t much that went on in one town that didn’t filter down to other towns.  All his fellow officers shared information – it was what they relied on to keep their towns safe from outside influences.  Abigail knew that and how she thought she wouldn’t get caught was beyond him.

Bob’s career demanded he play by the rules.  He was that way, even as a youngster.  He was a model child and bore a great deal of bullying for being a ‘goody two shoes.’  He couldn’t help it – he saw a clear line between right and wrong.  There were no gray lines for him.  Abigail, on the other hand, was the poster child for rebellion.  Her past was checkered with her rebelliousness from playground antics to protesting whatever cause she thought warranted her support. 

When they began dating everyone predicted it wouldn’t last.  How could the two of them ever find common ground.  Somehow they managed and now they were husband and wife.  Their marriage was a tempestuous one, with both of them desperately trying to make the other see their side of differing issues.

The first time Abigail went a little overboard with one of her tirades, Bob let her play it out.  When she was finished he told her in his calmest voice that was the last tirade he would tolerate.  From that point forward, she would voice her opinion in a calm, respectful manner.

“What are you going to do if I don’t?  Arrest me?” she sarcastically asked.

“No, I’m going to do something far more personal.”


“I’m going to put you over my knee and spank the tar out of you.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, but I would.”

“I’ll have you arrested for assault.”

“If you want to have everyone within a fifty mile radius know you got your bottom spanked, go right ahead, I’m not the one that will be embarrassed.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, if you file charges, you’re going to have to explain just how you were assaulted.”

“Oh.” She said.  That particular argument was over and for the longest time Abigail presented her opinions in a respectful manner.

Until, that fateful day when he asked that she not get involved in a protest to oust the local mayor.  He was caught cheating on his wife, who happened to be a close friend of Abigail’s. Some of the local wives took it upon themselves to call for his resignation stating that he wasn’t a good example.  It was all much ado about nothing but when the newspaper printed a picture of Abigail leading the charge, Bob knew it was time to honor his words.

That first spanking was a doozy.  Abigail hooted and hollered so loud that the neighbor actually called the police while coming over to check.  What she saw as she peeked in the window was Abigail, bare-assed over Bob’s knee, getting her backside smacked.  By afternoon, it was all over town – Abigail refused to leave the house for days and Bob was congratulated by every one of his fellow officers and other men around town.

Once Abigail came to see the error of her ways and knew that Bob was a man of his word, she kept her behavior in check; for the most part anyway.  She knew if she crossed that line, her bottom would pay the price.  Abigail never embraced spanking – it was a hurtful childish thing and she fought against it tooth and nail. She would try anything to get out of a spanking – but Bob never deterred once he determined a spanking was necessary.  This day was no exception.

Abigail stood between Bob’s knees as she pleaded her case.  When she was finished, he bared her bottom and took her over his knee and began his lecture.

“I don’t know what came over you.  Marijuana is illegal and smoking it in a public place shows a  flagrant disregard for the law.  Smoking cigarettes is prohibited in public and bad enough, but weed.”

“You know well enough that it is on the ballot and will probably pass.  There is a misconception about marijuana and I was merely proving a point.”

“Well now I’m proving a point”  The first smack landed on her bottom.  Bob rarely used implements, his hand was hard enough.  He let the sting settle for a moment before applying his hand in the exact same spot. He knew she hated this – she would rather he’d pepper his spanks around but this wasn’t happening today.  Today, she was getting a good sound spanking, one she was likely to remember each time she sat down.  He spanked her up and down her tush, sides included and then a couple of good ones on her thighs before he took up the brush she had held in her hand moments before.

None too gently, he used the bristle side to rub all over the reddened areas exacerbating the pain in her already throbbing backside.  He could see the wet spot on the bedspread caused by her tears but he felt no remorse as he turned the brush around and landed two firm swats on each check with the wooden brush.  Her intake of breath told him all he needed to know.  He’d need only deliver a couple more of those before Abigail reached her threshold and the punishment would cease.

When he was finished, he put down the brush and rubbed her back until her sobbing subsided. He helped her stand, kissed her forehead.  “Go get dressed and meet me in the kitchen,” he told her as he left the room.

When she arrived in the kitchen, he directed her to the hard wooden chair, handed her a tablet and a pen and told her he wanted a five-hundred-word essay on the good and the bad points of marijuana.  “You’ve got to be kidding” she answered and squirmed around on the chair trying to get comfortable.

“No, I’m giving a talk at the high school in a few days and I’ll use this as the basis for the talk. I’m sure by now your actions will have filtered down and what you have to say might give more meaning to the discussion.”

“Should I include my spanking as one of the bad things about indulging in marijuana?”

“Sarcastic as ever.  Spanking never tempers that tongue.  You do as you see fit, my sweet wife and I’ll do as I see fit.”  He gave her one of his wicked grins and she couldn’t help but feel a great gush of love and respect for this man she married.

See you later for more Aimless Ramblings.

Sunday, November 20, 2016


Good Morning All

It's the day after - the day after Love Our Lurkers weekend.  Thank you, everyone who stopped by. I was glad to welcome some old friends and get acquainted  with new ones and hope you'll come again.
Lilli Clairemont won the drawing to receive one of my books.   

Speaking of books, my newest one will be out just before Christmas. Don't forget to add it to your Christmas list.

Surprise, surprise - the setting is the Arizona Territory back in the late 1800's.  The background picture is one Ray and I took when we went to Sedona during the summer. The story started writing itself as we drove so it seems only fitting the scenery should receive credit for the inspiration.  

Now I have to get busy writing a story for tomorrow's post.  Until then, see you later on Aimless Ramblings.

Saturday, November 19, 2016

LURKERS - Are you one of them?

One of who you ask?  Why, LURKERS, of course.

Lurkers are those of you who visit our blogs - you slip in and slip out without notice.  We know you're there - we see numbers that don't mesh with comments.  So now that you know the definition, are you one of them?  If so, are you willing to come out from your hiding place and show your face.

You can remain anonymous but I'd really like to say hello, today and every once in a while.  I promise I'm harmless and don't bite.  Once upon a time I was one of you.  One day, I thawed out my cold feet and jumped in.  Since then I've made some great friends here in cyberland and I've even met some of them in real life.  We're not scary - we're folks just like you.  Won't you come join us?

Hope you leave a comment during this event and stop by every now and then thereafter.  

If you're new to LOL Day, and this is your first visit and comment,  leave me your name and an email address, and you'll be entered into a drawing to receive a copy of my latest book release, Home for Christmas.  If you've already read that, how about a copy of any of my others or the one that is due out before Christmas.

Hermoine is our hostest with the mostest today and tomorrow and if you click on her name the link will take you to her blog to see the list of all the participants.  Who knows, next year you may decide to add your name to that list.

See you later for more Aimless Ramblings.  

Monday, November 14, 2016

Blazin' Buns

We're not even halfway through November and already the stores are playing Christmas music, the ads on TV have started and it's only a matter of time before one of my over-eager friends will be sending the first Christmas card of the season.  I'm not even the slightest bit ready to start to accept that another year is shot to hell.

It's been an exciting week here - not one I want to relive.  I keep thinking I'll wake up and it will be a bad dream but so far that hasn't happened.  I know eventually I'll come around, until then ...

This story was penned on Saturday after I received an e-mail from PK telling me about the forest fires in her neck of this country.  Our friend, Katie, from This Whole Thing also has a loved one in that area and they are concerned for themselves and others in the area. Until you've seen one of these things engulf a whole hillside in less than two minutes, you can't imagine how horrible it is.  You pack up your precious possessions, your fur babies and are ready to run out the door at a moment's notice.  I'm hoping by now, these fires are under control without too much loss of property and life - even the forest creatures who are little by little being forced out of their habitat are running for safety.  

Blazin' Buns

Mike and I moved to this mountain town after we had enough of the flatlands.  It was as much my decision as his, but I didn’t know at the time the problems that a geographic location could cause.  For instance, now that we are more isolated than before, Mike has dictated that my gas tank never goes below half.  For years, it’s been a quarter, and now it’s a half.  Do I have to tell you how many times I’ve been spanked for that one little notch on the fuel meter.

That is one one of the many adjustments I’ve had to make.  I’m now well acquainted with making sure all burners are turned off, curling iron unplugged, dampers not closed until the fire is completely out, the list goes on.  I understand the fire hazards, especially when we’ve experienced a very dry summer after a very mild winter. Everything is tinder-dry.  I saw a sign on the road the other day that said not to even think about farting.  Although I laughed out loud, it’s not funny.

Mostly, people who live where we do are for the most part careful, occasionally you will still see some ignorant tourist toss a cigarette butt out the window.  Campfires are another problem with those less careful than others.  They have no idea that a small puff of wind can pick up an ember and deposit it far from the fire circle.  One little ember can destroy a whole area.

Well, you get the gist so you can imagine how much trouble I was in when I left the barbecue while I drove down to the little mom and pop store to pick up one small item.  The store is just down the road a bit – no more than two miles, so I figured up and back twenty minutes tops. Unfortunately, during that twenty minutes, poof.  The only thing that saved our entire deck and house from going up in flames was Mike.  He drove up the driveway to see the one whole end of the deck in flames.  He was able to grab the hose and put out the fire before it did any more damage. 

Needless to say, when I arrived home, I was in big trouble.  Barn burner trouble if you know what I mean.

No hellos, how are you hon?  No it was “What the hell were you thinking?  You not only didn’t move the barbecue away from the trees, but you go off and leave it unattended. Are your brains scrambled today?  I bet you’ll never pull a stunt like that again by the time I’m finished with you."

I was flabberghasted to see him whipping his belt out of his pant loops.  “You’re going to punish me here?”

“You bet your sweet ass, I am.  Right here where you can see how careless your actions were.”

“But we are outside, suppose someone comes down the road.”

“Then, they’re going to see you getting your ass blistered.”

He wasn’t kidding.  He had me lean over the deck railing, laid his hand on my back and told me to keep still and not to move.  The good of it was that he didn’t have me bare my bottom.  The bad of it was that I had on shorts so although my bottom may have been slightly covered, my thighs were on full display.

That first lash of his belt on my unprotected thighs had me dancing around.  “Keep still” was the order he barked out. 

“I’m trying.  It hurts.”

“It’s going to hurt a whole lot more by the time I’m done.  Now keep still.”

The second strike landed slightly below the first.  There were three more lines of fire across my thighs before he moved on to the fleshier and covered part of my tush. I no longer cared if anyone saw me or not.  It hurt too damn bad.  I lost count of how many times his belt came down on my bottom.  My denim shorts didn’t offer very much protection.  He wailed away.  Normally, I don’t cry when I’m getting punished – it’s a stubborn thing, but this was the exception.  Tears were streaming down my face, my nose was running, I was quite sure my ass and thighs were as blistered as the paint on the deck and still he never lost his stride.  The belt continued raining down smacks on my already swollen butt.

Finally, it was over.   He stood me up and held me for a minute before I was told to hit the shower and climb into bed.

“But it’s only 4:30.”

“Do you want more?”


“Then do as I say.”

I scrambled into the shower and did a little dance when the water hit my punished body parts. I was almost finished when he came in to inspect his handiwork.  Apparently, there were a couple of spots he thought warranted some arnica. 

“I’m sorry.” I managed to mumble as he rubbed the cream onto my wounded bottom and thighs.

“We were lucky.  It could have been so much worse.  I still don’t know what the hell you could have been thinking.  Now go get into bed.  I’ll be in to check on you as soon as I’ve finished cleaning up outside.”

I climbed into bed and immediately rolled over onto my tummy.  There was no way I could lay on my back. Every movement brought me a fresh dose of hurt, and there was no getting comfortable.  I grabbed my Kindle from the nightstand and began reading hoping to take my mind off my throbbing bottom.   Mike came into the room and promptly removed the Kindle.

“What are you doing?” I protested.

“I want you to lay here and think about how dangerous it is to leave a fire unattended.  Think of  all the people, not to mention all the forest creatures that could have been harmed by your one careless act.”

“But you spanked me for that.”

“Yes, and now you have to think about why you were spanked and remember it well.”

“Trust me, babe, my bottom is going to be remembering it for some time to come.  I’m pretty sure my ass would glow in the dark, right about now.”

“Good, then I did my job. My little fire bug.”

Next weekend is LOL weekend.  Love our Lurkers is celebrating it's 11th birthday and this year it will be going on for two days - November 18th and November 19th.  Be sure to mark your calendar to stop in to visit.

See you later for more Aimless Ramblings.

Monday, November 7, 2016

Rump Roast for Dinner

Hello everyone - another Monday has rolled around way too quickly.  I've been busy trying to promote my latest book and it's been so long I've forgotten half the things I should be doing.  On top of that, I've had a couple of eye appointments.  It seems I have a whole in my retina, which, according to them has been there a while.  Okay, I go every year so how come it hasn't been mentioned before.  Anyway, my AZ doctor, says it's probably nothing to worry about but I have to go back in a month. I hate stuff like that, how do you not think if it's nothing to worry about why do I have to go back.  

I"m trying bifocals again.  I've tried them before and couldn't get used to them.I seem to be having an easier time now.  It's much more convenient than carrying around several different pairs of glasses.

Oh, I also got stung by a bee this week.  They're always landing in the pool to get a drink and I've always swished them out with my hand.  Well, this week a bee took offense and I got his stinger right in the palm of my hand.  Boy did it hurt.  The good thing is I guess I don't have my bother's problem of being allergic.  It's better now, just itchy and from now on they can drown in the pool.  lol

Tomorrow's a big day here - election day.  I'm scared to death that the idiot will win.  If he does, I think the whole world is in jeopardy.  Think positive, Sunny Girl, think positive and the rest of you, if you live in this country, please go vote (of course, only if you're voting against him).  I'm only fooling - exercise the privilege - it was a hard fought battle ,

I"m volunteering at the polls so I should get a good feel how our usually red state is going. Blue I hope.  We'll see.

Enough, here's this week's story.

Rump Roast for Dinner?

It’s Saturday, crunch time and I’m still not ready.  Bill is going to be ballistic when he gets home if he finds out the house is still a mess and I have no idea what I’m fixing for dinner.  His parents and siblings are coming, on my invitation no less, and I’m a freakin’ mess. 

When I extended the invitation, I planned on Bill being here to help.  Unfortunately, his job required him to leave town on Tuesday, and he isn't due back until later today.  He’s asked me all week if I should cancel because he knows how I get and I told him I could handle things. Well, so far, I haven’t handled a damn thing.

‘Okay, Diane, get your shit together – one thing at a time. Focus. First things first, make a list.’

Another thirty minutes went by while I made the list.  Cleaning the house was first on the list. I hate cleaning, it’s not my thing.  The fact that the house is such a mess is really not my fault.  Bill and I agreed that as long as I worked, we could have someone come in every two weeks to clean. Shelby was supposed to be here yesterday, and she canceled.  So now it’s up to me.  I’ll start on the guest bathroom – it shouldn’t be too bad after all, no one has really used it since Shelby was here last.  Now our bathroom, that’s a totally different story, I’ll tidy that up a bit before Bill gets home.  He hates when I create what he calls my “urban sprawl” meaning I take over his vanity space. He’s threatened to sweep all my things into the trash and I suspect that one of these days it’s going to happen.

With our bathroom tidied up, I move on to our bedroom.  I change the sheets because Bill likes clean sheets, put on the bedspread that has been on the floor since he left, hung up my clothes and threw all the dirty laundry into the hamper.  I do a quick dust-up and get the vacuum.  I don’t use the vacuum so it’s a challenge and one that I didn’t conquer soon enough.  I had it on blow instead of suck and dust flew everywhere.  A few choice words flew out with the dust. Another hour wasted.

Next, I tackled the family room and the living/dining room.  Not too bad, since I’ve been by myself, I’ve holed up in the bedroom so there only minimal pick up here.  Now that I’ve conquered the vacuum, the rooms were presentable in quick order.

No sense tackling the kitchen, by the time I figure out what I’m going to cook, it will be a total disaster anyway.  I’m a good cook – but messy.   I finally come up with what I’m going to make for dinner that is simple but looks like it takes forever.  Beef Stroganoff is my decision.  I quickly write up a list of what to get from the grocery store, and I’m out the door. 

Bill calls while I’m shopping to ask if everything is on track.  Of course, I tell him.  He knows I’m lying because he can hear the stress in my voice. 

“Don’t forget  I get in at 3:00.  Do you still want to pick me up or should I take a shuttle?” he asks.

“Don’t be silly, I can’t wait to see you, and I’ll be there at 3:00,”  I tell him.

The grocery store on Saturday is like a town meeting hall.  Every family in Madison is there and each time I go down another aisle I run into someone else who wants to chat.  I hate being rude, so I exchange pleasantries and try not getting hung up in the minutiae of everyone’s life – it’s not easy.

I finally manage to get out of the grocery store, hit the liquor store for the wine and drive home. Unpacking the groceries, I realize I forgot a pretty main ingredient    I had the butcher slice a sirloin for me, but I was waylaid by Mary Beth and never did go back to pick up the meat.  Okay, I hop back in the car and head back to the grocery store. As I was making a quick dash to the meat department, I realized I hadn’t planned a dessert.  Over to the bakery department to choose something that looks as if it could be homemade.  Everything looks a little too elegant for my capabilities, so I revert to my old standby.  A carton of cool whip and a package of instant pudding mix blended together, some fresh berries and presented in a wine glass looks like you slaved all day.  Back home once again.

I look at the clock and see that it’s 1:30 – I’m in good shape, I tell myself.  I start to get out the dishes and silverware to set the table.  This I like to do.  I can fuss for hours simply getting the table setting right.  Today, I decided on dark green tablecloth and napkins along with my favorite china, Old Country Roses.  I picked up some arranged flowers at the grocers and with the candlesticks, the table looks lovely.  The silver isn’t too tarnished, just has that burnished look and there are no fingerprints or water spots on any of the glasses.

I return to the kitchen and start to play sous chef.  I’m slicing mushrooms, making the salad, cleaning the broccoli and dancing along to the tunes on the radio when I hear my phone go off.  I decide I don’t have time to chat, so I simply let it go to voicemail.  When the dinner prep is done, I begin cleaning up the mess in the kitchen.  The phone keeps ringing, and I finally decide I better check who’s calling.

I pick up the phone and see the time.  ‘Oh shit.’ I say to myself when I see the time is 3:40.  I don’t have to pick up the phone or check voicemail, I know well enough whose voice I would hear. ‘What to do, should I call back, or get in the car and blame it on traffic.  No, I’m better off facing the music.’

I click on his number, and he answered immediately.  “Don’t even bother with the excuses.  I caught a ride with Ben, his wife didn’t forget,” and he hung up. 

I’m in deep shitake and I know it.  It wouldn’t have been so bad if I hadn’t been so adamant about being there.  I have such good intentions, but you know what they say about good intentions.  The best thing I could do now was get my shower out of the way and have everything ready, so he didn’t have to do a thing.

I showered, shaved my legs, did a little landscaping, shampooed and blew dry my hair, all in record time.  By the time, Carolyn (who was perfect and never forgot anything, damn her) was pulling in the driveway, I was ready to welcome Bill home.  I went to the liquor cabinet to have his martini ready when I discovered only enough gin for one drink.  ‘Did he tell me to pick up gin, I couldn’t remember?  Surely I would have remembered or at least have it jog my memory, now.  No, I know he didn’t tell me he was out of gin.  I probably should have checked, dammit.’

I greeted him with my biggest smile and a very passionate kiss.  “Welcome Home, honey.  I missed you” I told him.

“Apparently not enough to remember to pick me up from the airport, he grumbled.

“I’m sorry, honey, I got involved and time got away from me.”

“Why didn’t you pick up your damn phone?”

“I wanted to get everything done and didn’t want to take the time.  I had no idea it was so late and might be you. “

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.  I know this tune.”

He took me by the hand, his traveling case in his other hand and led me to the bedroom. I had a feeling I knew what was going to happen but couldn’t believe he’d do it now, knowing we had company coming, and there were still a few things to do.

He dropped the suitcase but didn’t let loose of my hand.  He sat down on the bed and pulled me onto his lap.  We sat there with me cradled in his arms while he smoothed down my hair.  It was too much – I was feeling so guilty, and he was so sweet.

“Dammit, Bill, let’s just  get it over with,” I said to him.

“Get what over with”

“This, give me the lecture and if you’re going to spank me, get on with it.”

I felt his body stiffen.  “Dammit, that’s not what this is about. I was only trying to calm you down a little, but we can go there."

“I think I need it.” I couldn’t believe what I’d just said.  I was asking him to spank me, and we were expecting company within the hour.

“Are you sure? You’re all ready.”

“No, but I’m sure I need it."

Bill loved spanking me.  I was a reader of Harlequin romances and I’d always earmarked the pages where the heroine got spanked.  Early in our courtship, I had Bill read a chapter in the book I was currently reading and told him I wanted him to pretend he was Gibbon and I was Angelique. Ever since then, spanking was incorporated into our foreplay. 

It wasn’t until years later that I wanted to try spanking for a different reason.  It had been a hard sell in the beginning, but when he saw how effective it was in getting me back on track, he acquiesced. 

He moved me off his lap and told me to go remove my clothes, panties included.  He stayed put on the bed.  When I was naked below the waist, he pulled me to him and positioned me over his knee, making sure my upper body was supported.  His hand stroked my bottom as he asked me to tell him why I was getting spanked.

“Because I asked you to.”  I felt a gentle tap.

“That’s not the reason, tell me why you asked.”

“It’s been a week, Shelby didn’t come, you were gone, the house was a mess.' 

“Am I wrong, or is this more about you feeling guilty because you forgot to pick me up from the airport.”

“You’re probably right.  Whatever the reason, I know I’ll feel better afterward.”  He stroked my bottom a few more times before I felt a sharp sting right across the middle of both cheeks.

“Ouch.” I yelped.  I expected his hand, not whatever that was. 

Seconds later, another smack in the exact same place and I yelled out again.  “What the hell is that?”

“It’s your sandal that was lying here. Best to keep them where they belong. Now quit complaining and take your punishment.  After all, it’s what you asked  for and wanted, or am I wrong?”

“No, you’re not wrong, but do you have to spank so hard.”

“I want you to feel it.”  Another two smacks landed in succession in the same place.

“Trust me, I feel it.”

“Good.”  Then three quick slaps and I was rethinking my request.  He stopped and rubbed my backside for a bit.

“Okay, ready for your spanking?” he asked.

“What do you mean, am I ready.  You are already spanking me.”

“No, sweetie, that was just the warm-up.”

I cursed at him then and received two hard wallops to my thighs.  “Not nice to curse at your husband who loves you.”

“If he loves me, he’ll drop the slipper.”

I heard a thunk and the next thing I felt was his hand punishing my bottom.  Bill’s hand, when he’s in the discipline mode, is almost as bad as a paddle.  He spanks hard and fast, with no time to gather your breath before the next whack lands.  I was almost at the end of my endurance when we heard the doorbell.  I silently thanked the gods above thinking he would stop.  I was wrong, he delivered five more swats and then told me to go answer the door while he showered and changed.

I almost smacked him, but then thought better of it.  My arse was on fire, I didn't want more.  Besides I had to quickly put on my panties and jeans over a scorched bottom to go answer the door.

Of course, it was his mother, who was always early and loved to catch me unawares at anything.

“You should remember to close your bedroom windows, dear, rump roast for dinner,” she told me as I greeted her at the door.  My father-in-law smiled and patted her bottom as he guided her in the door.

And so concludes this week's tale.  See you later for more Aimless Ramblings.

Thursday, November 3, 2016




players, owners and fans

The drought is over.