"Janice you're my wife and, by god, if I have to whip you every night of our marriage I will if it teaches you to mind me."
The new bride cried out as the heavy leather strap connected with the tender round hills of her bottom once more. His wife for barely a day and already he thought it necessary to turn her on her stomach and punish her across the end of the hotel bed. Awash in self-pity, her tears flowed. How would she manage a lifetime of such treatment?
Oh sure, she felt her father's hand across her backside countless times growing up, even had the privilege of feeling the switch on her bared rump as she reached her teenage years, but never would she think the man she was bound to, the one she loved more than any other and loved her even more would treat her the same way as her father.
Remembering how it had felt when her father last spanked her less than a year ago, her legs kicked involuntarily as her husband laid into her soft, unprotected rear. Unable to restrain herself, she began crying out with each loud snap of leather on her flesh.
She was the youngest of three daughters and, as such, was privy to her parent's methods before experiencing them on her own. Her father believe in time tested old fashioned theories of raising children. Having been raised by strict parents that survived the depression he was no stranger to the rod, switch or paddle and believed the same upbringing for his three lovely daughters would produce similar positive results.
Before puberty she was already accustomed to waking early and helped her family on their small farm. Many days she would spend hours picking corn, spreading seed or cooking meals and cleaning the home when the weather was less than favorable. It fostered in her a determination to better herself through hard work, callused hands and exhaustion come sundown. By the time she was old enough to attend the dance socials at her school, she was no longer able to hide her place as the progeny of her father- a resolute, fair haired midwestern girl like the woman he married.
She wore this fact with pride, often thinking of herself as a "Daddy's girl". Even her closest friends teased her when she excused herself from their weekend get togethers to make her curfew. She had broken it too often to forget what happens to girls that stay out late.
She was proud of her upbringing, proud of her family's reputation in the town, even if that reputation came with the belief in corporal punishment. When she was a toddler, she first watched her older sister cry at the stern hand of their loving father and when she came of age she took part in the family tradition.
When she turned eighteen both her mother and father thought it best if she began to date. Though she had noticed boys long ago, and developed an affinity for them, she never had the chance to meet any. When she wasn't spending long days in the fields she attended an all girl's school run by an order of nuns. She could count the number of males she knew besides her father on one hand, including the stablehand, mailman and the man that owned the drug store- Mr. Harrison.
One evening, late in the summer as she was lying on her bed she heard the all too familiar sounds of the strap against a bare bottom. A woman's voice cried out after each application though she couldn't place it the deeper and slightly breathy voice. The woman sounded resigned to the punishment, rather than urgently protesting as she and her sisters did all too often. The next morning at breakfast all were solemn except for father who addressed his wife with authority when he spoke. She responded meekly and Janice noticed her slight wince when she made to sit. Looking up at her older sister Rosalyn, she saw she seemed unsurprised by her actions. Later, when the adults had left the room and father was in the field she told her, "Momma got a seeing to last night. She must have upset daddy something terrible. I heard her crying afterwards."
The words sent a chill down Janice's spine. Her mother got whipped just as she did? Just the idea of her childish punishments continuing into adulthood filled the girl with dread and she vowed she would never allow it when she grew up.
Yet here she was, naked from the belly down, bawling louder than she did half a lifetime ago. She imagined her mother's bottom, full and round like her daughter's, and imagined how her father felt as he looked upon it to apply discipline the best way he knew how. Her body took after her mother's, strong and lean from years of work though round and feminine, the perfect combination to attract the attention of many would-be suitors.
She did just that when she came of age. Days past her eighteenth birthday, when her father allowed her to keep the company of men, she mad met several and grown a liking for a few. Travis was the last of the men she met. Almost ten years her senior, he had a background similar yet vastly different from her own. Having grown up in the same county, he learned the benefits of a long day's work with his hands at an early age. A tall boy, he was blessed with a muscular build, as well as the talent for throwing a perfect spiral that allowed him to go to college. There he studied environmental science, which he hoped would help him improve his family business. He stayed longer than he expected and earned his Masters at a school on the East Coast. After a period of years spent advising food companies to comply with regulations, he found he had gone too far from what he loved most about his profession was working with the land. With that, left his position to return to the home he missed.
With his knowledge, the family farm prospered, allowing him to purchase more land and eventually aid those nearby farms struggling to survive. During an agriculture and farming equipment exposition arranged by the fertilizer company he worked for he met her father. He was a large man, with hands dried and worn from time spent in the fields but he carried an air of serenity about him. He was well known locally and often helped out his neighbors when their harvests came up short.
Travis met him on the last day when he spoke about soil variances throughout the country. He found him to be an intelligent, friendly man, perhaps the nicest man he'd ever come in contact with. Since he was passing through his hometown on his way to his meeting the next day, the elder man invited him over for dinner to show what a "perfectly managed" farm can yield.
He accepted without a thought and the next day found him introducing himself to each member of the family. Margaret, his wife, was a foot shorter than the stout man though she didn't look like a stranger to working in the fields. She had hair the color of cornsilk with strong legs, strong arms and the slight extra weight in the middle that most women her age starved themselves to defeat. She wore it proudly. Her daughters, on the other hand, were all taller than most young ladies and fitter than most young men.
Elise, the oldest at twenty, still lived at home and took courses at the nearby city college. She had blonde hair the color of a dust devil and skin tanned from the mid-afternoon sun. Cassie was the middle child at nineteen and the only one in three generations to possess red hair. They believe she inherited it from her great grandfather, one of the first settlers in the town that purchased the land they now resided on by selling the cattle he brought over from the west. She had a temperament that lived up to the expectations her hair color had set for her. At nineteen she had been over her father's lap and in the woodshed twice as much as both girls put together. She knew the feel of the leather strap, wooden spoon and switch against her bare behind and feared them appropriately.
Janice was the youngest at seventeen and, despite the order of her birth, the most mature and the most responsible. In school she excelled and at home she did more than the share of work a normal girl of her size and age was expected to. She cooked for the family when her mother wasn't feeling up to it and cleaned up after others because she knew no one else would.
The girls were seating according to age, which left Janice at his left hand. Her father sat at the head of the table while her mother sat by his right at the end. Each member of the family showed the utmost in manners, the result of good breeding passed on from parent to child.
The meal was delicious and, to Travis, seemingly unending. The conversation centered on him and as the family listened he earnest he spoke about his time spent at school, as well as the farming methods he found most productive. He spoke of his time spent away learning and the years he spent growing up in Kansas, on a farm much like theirs.
Cassie jumped in with a question, "You farmed growing up?"
"I did," he answered. "We grew Soy and Corn mostly though."
"Your family do well with that?" the father asked.
"Fairly," he answered. His parents had hit a spell of trouble when he went away to school but he chose not to mention it.
"They didn't have three free workers to help them though, did they?" Cassie asked with slight belligerence.
"You best watch yourself, young lady," her father warned.
"No, but they had one worker they used three times as much," Travis laughed, hoping to distract from a subject the family had obviously argued over recently.
Travis found himself inadvertently thrown into the center of a dispute that began earlier that day, one that hadn't yet been resolved. His own upbringing taught him what to do in such a situation and soon he had diverted the conversation back to more pleasant matters. They continued the earlier conversation on farming methods, crops even the population boom that's hitting the nearby towns, which caused both their family's bills and their profits to increase.
"Most likely I'll be up and moving out of here soon. Soon as my girls grow, find husbands and start their own families," he said, looking at each of his progeny. "By then I'm sure I'll be too tired and will sell the ranch, retiring at some patch of land out in the woods somewhere." He smiled at his wife at the other end of the table. Travis recognized it as the true love of a couple that had grown together, whose struggles only strengthened them and were as close as two people could be. In that moment, he knew that's what he wanted for himself. He was jealous of the older man at his right. He wanted to know what it felt like to be surrounded by those who loved him, who yielded to his commands.
Cassie ruined the quiet moment they shared with an exaggerated sigh followed by a explosive belch. Instantly her father stood upright from his chair, grabbed the girl's tiny wrist and, without a word, led her out of the room. Not surprised by his reaction, she made only the slightest show of reluctance.
When they left the room the conversation stilled and though he searched desperately for a topic to discuss, Travis could not think of any. Soon they heard loud slapping noises coming from a bedroom upstairs. There was a slight scuffle, as if steady and unrelenting, and then it grew continually louder. Soon after they heard a loud cry that began a chain of similar sounds, each one more pitiful and heart rending than the one before. The cries grew longer until it became one ceaseless wail. Shameless sobbing followed until after all other sounds had ended.
Travis continued enjoying his meal, even complimenting the women for preparing and helping to gather the dinner but none responded. They all were struck silent by the sounds from above and sat motionless with timid expressions, their eyes blank. Janice sat across from him, her elbows tucked into her sides and her eyes staring downward at the half eaten meal before her. He felt her hand take his and grip it. The girl trembled slightly.
After a time that seemed much longer than it actually was, the two returned to the table. Cassie hid her face beneath her hair and turned away when he tried to look while her father sat down with the purposefulness of a job well done. When Cassie sat he could see why- her face was puffy from crying and the marks of recently dried tears showed beneath her eyes. The two other girls looked at her with knowing sympathy while her mother only looked at her with a telling 'you know better' stare.
Though they tried to resume the conversation as it were, the attempt was stilted and forced. Thankfully, without all the discussion, he could enjoy the food without distraction.
Later that night, as he sat on the porch looking out onto the blackness of the sky and the dim light of the distant highway, they talked of different things. With only the men present, they were more relaxed and open. They talked of sports, politics and family. After some time spent conversing they had formed the bond reserved for two close friends. Such is why Travis was not surprised when the elder asked personal questions about his love life. He was single, he responded, with no love interest to speak for. This was addressed with a clicking of his tongue as he slowly rocked in his chair.
"That Janice will make some man proud someday," he said, doing little to disguise his intentions.
"Yes, sir. I'm sure she will make somebody a fine wife."
"Best while they're young. Around these parts they're anxious to settle down and marry." He looked over at the younger man, searching his face for dissent. Seeing none, he continued, "Good for them, I say! It takes a good man to make a girl a respectable wife. It's not for everyone."
Travis sat unspeaking, listening to the older man. He rolled a cigarette, licking the thin paper then sealed it. Lighting it, he inhaled deeply and released before he continued. "You saw how I handled her sister?"
Travis grew hot under the collar with the question and was thankful for the cool night air. He nodded, "I did."
"That's what a wife needs. Especially a young one when she's newly married."
Travis looked at the older man, uncertain if he meant what he said.
He laughed, a hearty deep sound. "You heard me right, that's all a girl needs when she gets out of line is a good whuppin'. You saw how well my wife treats me, how close we are?" The young man nodded. "That didn't happen overnight, son. That's the result of many years of work, many hard spankings, thousands of tears and even more kisses." He stretched and placed his arm behind his head, looking upwards at the bright stars on the firmament. "But, believe me, she loves me more than a woman could ever love a man. She adores me in every way possible." Leaning closer to the younger man he almost whispered, "That's because I let her know how I feel. Every day. Each time I raise my hand and apply it to her ample behind it's proof of how much I care for my wife, how much I always will until both of us are in the ground."
The words hung in the air and Travis repeated them like a mantra in his mind until it made more than perfect sense. With her father's urging, Janice began dating the attractive young businessman and found she enjoyed his company more than she expected. They began seeing more and more of each other and each time grew closer and closer together. He proposed to the young girl days after her nineteenth birthday. She was still living with her parents then and working for them each day. It was a good living, but she wanted something more. She hoped for her own family, a harvest of children raised by the man she swore her life to, a man she whose side she would stay beside and love for the rest of her days.
Her father still used the hairbrush, paddle and the leather strap he hung ominously in the upstairs hallway on her bared bottom up until she was to live with her new husband. The last time he punished her in such a way came after a long day out looking through bridal shops for table placements and invitations. She was getting restless and her constant whining forced her father to take his daughter in the backroom of the store and spank her wholeheartedly over his knee. She did her best to keep quiet for fear of other customers hearing her cry like a little girl but that proved to be difficult.
Though quicker than a spanking she would have received at home, it turned out to be much harder. Without a word, he upended the girlover his knee so her view rested on his dust covered work boots. Her skirt was pulled up over her back, as had been done seemingly hundreds of times before, and her soft, round bottom on view to the room. Thankful that it was only her and her father in the cluttered backroom, she bit her lip in irritation that she had landed herself in such a position despite her mature age.
The spanking started immediately and the hurt began to set into her flesh just as soon. By the third spank she was involuntarily kicking her feet, more to ward off the rising ache in her bottom than fight against her father's will. He knew this, and did nothing to stop the flaying feet, just inches from her tender butt. He was never the kind to enjoy all day shopping, even if it was for such a happy occasion, and this would help his daughter keep her mind on the task at hand. They had a lot to plan and do before the wedding and she can't be as indecisive as she usually was.
His hand slapped against her bare skin, ringing out to the sales floor where her eldest sister sat uncomfortably with the salesgirl, discussing gown lengths in an attempt to pretend neither heard the wailing of the bride to be. Both women fidgeted with the book of textile samples, avoiding the other's eyes as their cheeks flushed red from the knowledge of what was taking place behind them. When the fusillade ended and father and daughter came out to join them, the father noticed a definite change. No more was there the giddy laughing and playful teasing about the wedding night, instead he found both women anxiously looking through photographs of beautiful floor length gowns and discussing the business of marrying off his daughter.
The salesgirl noticed the drying tears and puffy cheeks of the bride to be when she made the final decisions. She felt empathy for the girl, having been in her shoes more times than she would like to admit, though never in such a public place. Her heart went out to her. Corporal punishment was a common thing in her upbringing and made her not only accept its importance in the raising of a child but helped her to be a more responsible and mature adult. Hopefully in time the younger lady would believe the same thing.
Earlier Janice found her new husband very proficient in his duty. Though it was his first time punishing her, she found him to be very talented at raising a sting to her backside. In truth, he may even be better than her father had ever been.
Caught up in the moment, she released a loud moan and fell forward, her upper body held by Travis' left knee. She succumbed to the moment and accepted the fact that this man who loved her, and would protect her for the rest of her life, would also be the one to punish her properly, as was his right.
Before he began spanking her, he sat her down and explained why he had to take such an action. Seeing her careless flirting with the limo driver, followed by a playful kiss of thanks, was disrespectful towards him as her husband and forced his hand. He was her husband now, no longer just a friend or boyfriend and as her husband, it was his duty to keep her well behaved and respectful so she would be the loving wife they both wanted her to be. Still in her wedding gown, with lingerie set reserved for that night hidden in her suitcase, she listened intently. Afraid to say a word, she sat with her hands in her lap and eyes wide as he addressed her with one pointed finger.
"Your father advised me to be strict with you, a girl your age isn't often ready for the responsibilities of marriage," he lectured her. "He said you need to be spanked, thoroughly and often to keep you in line. I know you were raised that way and am familiar with his methods, having grown close to your family, but I hoped I wouldn't need to take such action." He sighed as if frustrated with her, "I'd hoped you'd be mature enough to know your place as my wife, I'd hoped you'd behave and show your devotion by respecting and honoring me as your husband. So far you have done neither of those things. As your father suggested, you need to be spanked early on, with repeated discipline as warranted throughout our life together."