Creative Spanko Wench Blog

by patty copyriht 2003 updated 2007

 need to find Chapter 2 & 1.  follow this link

Connie soaked in the hot water thinking back over the morning, the last few weeks, and then back over the last few years. The water’s silken heat accentuated the calm that was beginning to settle down around her.“If only this winter was forever,” she closed her eyes, letting herself feel safe for the first time in as far back as she dared let her memory go.The grime of all of her weeks on the trail took some scrubbing to get off. One round of soaping lifted one layer, and then when Connie started back around to rinse off, her palm loosened, lifted and rolled up the next one in softened small grayish pills of oils and skin. The water was tepid and clammy-cool before her fingers finally squeaked over a smooth surface of clean flesh. Connie grimaced when after she stood and stepped out of the tub, she turned and saw all the dirt she’d been wearing in the scum that floated on the now filthy milk-brown water. Embarrassed that that was only what her flesh carried, Connie dropped her clothes in the water to soak and take some of the blame for its color.

The clean clothes Royal brought down from the loft for her to wear were serviceable, clean and decidedly female. The chemise was definitely made for a woman better endowed than she was. Even so, Connie couldn’t help smile as her hands smoothed the soft cotton with its lace trim and silk ribbons against her skin. She was a woman again!

“Look at these bloomers!” she whispered, lifting the next white cotton garment. In her whole life, she’d never seen underwear so pretty. They were also made for a woman who carried more flesh than she did, but Connie had no trouble cinching the ties well enough that they would stay up.

The soft wool blouse was cut to fit loose by design, and when Connie pulled the skirt up over it she made a picture in her mind of how the outfit might look on the woman who fit it properly. That woman wasn’t Connie, but she would make do. A snug fold on the side and three rolls of the waist band and she was able to situate the skirt so that it was not dragging under her feet.

Twirling around in the center of the room, Connie smiled. She felt pretty, and she felt good. Maybe Royal would let her keep it and alter it so it fit her better.

Tidying up the dishes from breakfast was the first thing she took care of after she was dressed. Next was washing the sheets from Royal’s bed. Those, Connie set to simmering in the large stock pot Royal used to boil the water for her tub. Then she squatted next to the tub to see what she could do with her clothes.

~ooo00ooo~

Bossy was not in a cooperative mood when Royal got out to the barn to start the morning chores. Twice she kicked up, objecting to the ministrations of his hands on her teats. His mind, distracted by thoughts of his houseguest and the events of the last two days, might have put more squeeze on his fingers than normal, but Royal griped at the cow anyway. He was too tired to see past what he needed to get done, and he was inclined to fuss at any impediment to it that came up. “What in God’s name am I going to do with a half grown woman cooped up here with me all winter Mary?” he grumbled as he stepped out and began to shovel a wider path between the barn, the house and the outhouse. “A sassy one to boot!” he lamented. “I’m too old and too set in my ways for this.”

There was another brief lull in the winds, but snow was still falling. No doubt he’d be out clearing the paths again before dark. It was as good a time as any to set the wind breaks, even if he was close to dead on his feet. The work would do him good getting things ironed out in his mind.

While he climbed up into the barn loft and pulled down the thick bundles of stakes and woven leather strips that had served as a snow fence and wind break for the past six winters, Royal thought about what he would do with the girl. If she was going to eat his food and live under his roof, she’d work for her keep that was for sure. He wondered if she could cook, and how much trouble she’d give him if he put her to work in the barn doing the milking and tending the stock. Mary had been a good hand with a hammer and an axe, and she was no stranger to shoveling snow either. “Yep,” he nodded to himself, “That thieving little hellion is going to pull her weight or go hungry.”

When the full length of the snow fence was set with the longer stakes pounded well into the still soft soil under the first fall, Royal leaned back stretching the kinks out of his thirty three year old frame. He felt at least twenty years older than he was under the weight of nothing but a few stolen moments of sleep, long hours in the saddle, and as many long hours of hard physical labor.

“The girl will do the milking and what’s left of the chores come evening,” he told the hammer as he set it back on it’s shelf in the barn. The last thing he did before collecting eggs and heading back up to the house was fill three burlap sacks tightly full of straw.

 ~ooo00ooo~

“I thought you might’ve gone off again,” Connie spoke up, when Royal pushed open the door and kicked his boots free of snow.

That wasn’t really true, since she’d heard the pounding of the hammer on the stakes of the wind break as he set it, and saw him moving about on the property through the window. She mainly said it by way of making conversation and noting that’s he’d been outside a long time.

Royal didn’t answer. Instead he caught his breath and stared at the small little woman with the soft strawberry blond curls wearing Mary’s favorite blue dress. It took him a second to process the image and adapt to the mixed feelings of sadness and appreciation. Aware he was staring; he turned his head away, and surveyed the room. He noted that she’d made herself busy. The sheets and her clothes hung from twine strung up from wall to wall in front of the fire. He could smell biscuits, and the stew he made before leaving heating on the stove.

“What did you do with the tub, and the water in it?” he asked.

Connie winced that his first question addressed the one thing she wasn’t sure she’d done right.

“I used the bucket for the water until I could lift it,” she answered. “I dumped it off the side of the porch. The tub is back up there, in the loft.”

Royal nodded in the direction she pointed, and shrugged out of his coat. “In the future, you’ll carry your bath water out to the tree line beyond the line between the barn and the spring house. There’s a garden there that does well with the water and the minerals from the soap.”

Connie nodded, thankful that he wasn’t angry with her short cut. “I will.”

“You made biscuits?” Royal leaned down and opened the cast iron door on the wood stove’s small oven.

“Is that OK?” Connie shrugged and nodded.

“Course it’s OK. I’m pleased to know you have some skill in the kitchen, since that’ll be one of your chores while you’re here.” Royal ignored the uncertainty in her answer.

“I ain’t much of a hand at it, but I’ll try,” Connie agreed to what she assumed was an order.

“Aren’t,” Royal growled.

“Aren’t?” Connie’s expression crinkled into a puzzled expression.

“You aren’t much of a hand at it. Ain’t, ain’t a word,” he explained raising an eyebrow and watching her reaction to being corrected.

Connie curled her mouth into an “Oh,” and blushed that she’d missed his meaning the first time. Many times, her mother had corrected her in exactly the same way.

“The wash hangs in the barn from now on too,” Royal pointed to the laundry line strung up in his living room. “The dripping water’ll rot the floor.”

“Oh,” Connie blushed again. “I didn’t think about that. I’m sorry.” She wasn’t getting off to as good a start as she hoped as a proper house guest.

“Expect you will think about it next time though, right?” Royal dismissed the point.

Connie shrugged and nodded and then gingerly sat back down on the rocker.

“Don’t get too comfortable youngun’.” Royal crooked his fingers waving Connie back up out of the chair. “Up there in the large trunk you’ll find more sheets, some blankets and a bolt of ticking. First thing you’ll do is make my bed back up for me, and then pull together a mattress for yourself with the ticking and two or three of the blankets. There’s straw out on the porch.”

Royal watched Connie take in his instructions, and then absently scan the room and the rim of the loft with her eyes. He smiled. A spanking and a bath sure seemed to do wonders for her disposition. He’d expected more lip and sass than he was getting. Instinct told him her spirit and defiance would be back, but for now, he was encouraged that there was a moldable human being inside the gamine frame occupied by his erstwhile thief and intruder.

“You can make your bed up there if that’s your preference,” he nodded, remembering the request she’d made earlier in the morning. “Should be nice and warm up there, that’s certain,” he added with a smile.

Connie climbed back up into the loft, and got busy clearing the cedar boxes off the large trunk Royal said she’d find the sheets and what not in. Curiosity nibbled at her as she caught sight of silver frames and knick knacks in two of the boxes, and lacey fabric in another. “Later!” she scolded herself, resisting the temptation to sidle away from her chore to snoop.

Making Royal’s bed back up took Connie almost no time, and then she hauled the burlap sacks of straw up into the loft. It was too dark up there to see properly, and she had nothing she could use to secure the ticking or blankets around the burlap and straw.

“That was fast,” Royal commented when she started back down the ladder.

“No sir,” Connie admitted. “I can’t see to do it right from up there, and I need some thread twine and a darning needle.”

“Use the lamp there on the table. I’ll get you a needle. You’ll have to pull thread from the burlap. There’s no spare twine to fray for sewing.”

Royal got up from the reading he was doing and went into the bedroom to locate a needle.

“Dish up some stew for us both,” he called out from his bedroom. “We may as well eat something before either of us start on chores that’ll take time to do proper.”

Connie obeyed, and set food out on the table, listening while Royal rummaged, cussed and grumbled in the other room. There was a long silence. Some bumps, scrapes and a last growl. When he finally came out, Royal’s expression was dark. He had a darning needle, but it seemed he had something on his mind too.

“You were in those boxes under my bed,” he leveled a look her way that made Connie’s still sore backside prickle with anticipation.

“I was just trying to find out who you were so I could send what I owed to the right person,” Connie swallowed against a fear dried cotton wad in her throat.

“Find what you were looking for?” his growl was ominous.

“Yes,” Connie’s answer was a whisper.

“Anything else?” he knew the answer, but was not going to press. To do so would unravel his heart.

“No,” Connie barely whispered her lie. Royal knew it for the lie it was.

“There is nothing under there that concerns you. Is that clear?” The command behind his words was unmistakable. If you need something and can’t find it, you ask me or you do without. I won’t stand for a snoop.”

“Yessir,” Connie blushed and looked down at her hands that were fidgeting with the edge of the table. She pulled them back behind her so he wouldn’t see her guilty gestures.

“I want to hear you say it youngun,” Royal demanded. “You’ll stay out of the boxes and what not under my bed.”

“I will,” Connie answered, her heart sinking with the promise. Mary was under there, along with the story of her life with this man.

“Say the words Constance,” Royal warned.

“I’ll stay out of what’s under your bed,” she promised, closing her eyes another lie, and using the childish protection of crossed fingers behind her back to protect herself from it.

“Alright,” Royal accepted. “See that you do, or that dusting you got this morning will seem like a birthday pitty-pat spanking.”

The pair sat down to left over, reheated venison stew and biscuits in silence. Both were lost in their own private thoughts of Mary and the journals she’d kept.

~ooo00ooo~

Royal dozed off in the rocker during the late afternoon hours while Connie fashioned a mattress for herself from the straw and blankets and ticking Royal provided. “It’ll do,” she sighed punching the finished product. She could just feel the floor boards under her hip bones, but it was definitely going to be more comfortable than the rocks and dirt of the trail, especially when covered with a sheet and one of the feather pillows her host had down on his bed. Her bed roll, once she washed it, and the quilt she used to dry off from her bath with, would go a long way to making it even more comfortable.It was dark, and the fires on the hearth and in the wood stove, were reduced to embers when Connie made her way back down to the main room. Royal stirred with the creaks from the ladder as she descended.“Jezuz!” he hissed and then groaned. Every muscle in his body objected to the sudden movement that came from being startled awake. “Half the day wasted,” Royal grumbled looking at his pocket watch and angling it to the lamp light next to him.

Royal still was able to remember the plans he made earlier about the evening’s milking and chores.

“Get your coat on,” he barked gruffly as he lifted himself stiffly up out of his rocker.

“My coat! What for?” Connie retorted. Confusion colored her voice with what sounded like defiance even to her.

“You heard me. We have chores to do, and you’ll earn your keep,” Royal answered, his brow lifted in an expression that warned Connie not to question him again.

“You don’t have to order me you know,” Connie bristled moving over to lift her coat from its hook. “I never said I wouldn’t do my share.”

“Don’t sass me youngun,” Royal warned.

“Then don’t call me that either!” Connie countered. “I’m no kid, and my name is Connie. I’ll thank you to use it.”

Royal’s eyebrow lifted. Again his expression darkened. “I have a sturdy wooden brush in that bedroom. Would you like me to use it where it’ll cure your saucy mouth right quick?”

Connie ignored the question and turned toward the door while she shrugged her arms into her coat sleeves. “What chores will you have me do?”

Royal tromped over to the door himself, and pulled his coat down. There was silence for the minute or two it took him to put it on and reach for his boots. Connie had her boots on too when he finally spoke.

“Do you know how to feed stock and milk a cow?” The question came out short and sharp.

“I think I can manage it,” Connie snapped back.

“Oats, cornmeal and hay for the pigs. Three scoops of oats, one of meal and two hefty forks of hay. Half that for Bossy. Toss two fists of meal on the floor for the hens. Collect what eggs there are and milk the cow. Milk and eggs go in the root cellar where you stole my food last week. You take care of what business you have in the outhouse, and then go on in and see what you can rustle up for supper.”

“And what are you going to be doing while I do all that?” Connie’s retort was again more defiant than she intended.

“Did you get nothing out of that lesson I gave you this morning that you’d court another like it so soon?” Royal stopped short on the porch and wheeled around to look her in the eye.

“You don’t have to order me or talk so short to me. I’ll work and pull my weight,” Connie backed off her saucy attitude a little hoping he would agree she was earnest and worthy of trust.

“My house,” Royal growled and trumped down the steps toward the barn. The snow was back up to the tops of his boots. “You’re the one whose sassy backside’s dropped in here uninvited. You’d do well to remember that. Now get to work.” He made sure to add on and emphasize a military timbre to the command of the last four words.

Connie held back the string of cusses that choked up from her gut. “Damn it! I’ll show him I know how to work.”

In the barn, Royal pointed out the feed, and saw Connie started on the routine. Then he picked up the shovel from the corner, and headed out to clear the foot or more of snow that had drifted up over and filled the paths.

“Make darned sure you wash your hands before you start supper, is that clear?” There was little if any reason for that addition, except Royal wanted to make damned sure Connie understood who was boss.

She looked up and glared back at Royal. He was deliberately baiting her to sass him. The look she gave him was hot enough to melt steel, but there was almost no steel out here in the wilds of Idaho. There wasn’t even much in the way of politics in this disciplinary world yet. Connie said nothing, although it took all of her will power to do it.

Feeding the animals was simple. There were only three eggs, but she had nothing to put them in while she milked the cow, so she left them on their nests while she contemplated the cow’s udder.

“It can’t be that hard,” she grimaced, lifting the bucket and the stool and then sidling over to sit by the animal.

“Whoa bossy,” Connie startled and patted the animal’s haunch when it bawled and stepped sideways nearly knocking her backward. “I’m not going to hurt you girl, I’m just going to milk you is all. OK?” She patted and reassured several times. “Will you let me do that?” she asked and patted some more.

Bossy wasn’t sure, and that was evident with her nervous shifting and hoof stamping each time Connie tried to handle one of her teats.

“You afraid I’ll hurt you old girl?” Connie crooned and patted the cow some more. “I’ll try not to I promise. Just let me get this milk out for you. Bet that’ll feel better too won’t it? Lighter and better old girl?”

Bossy balked and bawled again. Eventually she did let Connie grasp one of her teats, and not wanting to spook the animal again, Connie just held it for a minute or so letting Bossy adapt to the contact. “What do I do now girl?” she whispered after the cow was still for her long enough.

“Do I squeeze? Or do I pull?” She tried both without success. Bossy bawled and stomped again, but she put up with the clumsy handling she was enduring.

Several minutes of useless effort later, Connie was getting frustrated. The last thing she wanted was to have to go and tell Royal Lee that she didn’t know how to milk a cow.

Whimpering with near defeat, and stubborn determination, Connie palpated each of Bossy’s teats and the warm distended udder above them. She could feel the liquid reflux up away from her palm when she tried to squeeze. “How do I make it go the right way?” she complained and leaned her head into the cow’s now compliant side. Tired and ready to give up, Connie let her grip relax just a bit, and tugged down gently massaging the reddened tissue she’d been squeezing. She felt milk descend into the teat behind the pull, hoping she’d open the spigot, she let go and opened her palm. One drop of milk appeared at the end.

“Is that all you’ve got cow?” Connie whined and tried again.

She tried the massaging pull again, still getting nothing more than a drop. “Come oooonnnn cow! Please!?”

“What are you up to in here?” Royal’s bark boomed into the barn startling Connie and Bossy both. Bossy kicked when Connie let out a surprised squeal, and that sent Connie toppling back off the stool and against the barn wall.

“Goddamnit to hell!” Connie yelped.

“What in blue blazes are you doing puttering around in here all this time. Where’s the milk?” Royal demanded.

Connie looked up, half mad, half defeated. Did she tell him she couldn’t do it because she didn’t know how, or find some other explanation for the predicament she found herself in? Her indecision lasted until she saw Royal’s expression go from impatience to disdain. Blind stubborn temper boiled up within her.

“Milk her yourself, you sorry piece of shit!” Connie hissed pushing back away from him and getting up onto her feet.

“Never in my life have I met the likes of you!” Royal lunged over and caught Connie by the scruff of her coat. “Bold and foolish through to the core aren’t you? So brazen you’d run away into the wilderness on your own, get yourself trapped in a blizzard, and not find enough sense to show respect to the man whose life you’ve invaded and turned upside down.”

“Let me go!”

“I’d like to do just that youngun! Let you go right out into that cold dark night right here and now!” Royal pulled her back up tight against him. “But God help me, I’m a descent man and not about to do that.”

“Lemme go!” Connie struggled and whined against the man’s grip.

“Stay still, and listen to me!” Royal took hold of her with both hands and shook Connie hard. It worked. She stopped flailing and struggling and went still.

Royal turned her to face him. “We’re going to get some things straight right here and now,” his glare was dark and filled with intent.

“Yeah? So?” Connie glared back. Defiance completely filled her gut.

“So?” Royal’s brow crooked up with amazed disdain. “So you’re going to spend all of this winter eating your meals standing up if you don’t wise up, that’s what’s so!”

“Go to the devil!” Connie’s eyes snapped with black anger. Fear also surged through her. She knew she could be courting a serious beating. Royal’s face had turned red with anger, and the vein on his forehead pulsed with it. They stood like that held in a deadlock of wills for what felt like forever.

Royal was first to break. He loosened his grip, and then released it. “You get on up to the house. There’s turkey and sweet potatoes wrapped in paper on the shelf. Make a good spread of it or I’ll do worse than take my brush to your backside before you go to bed tonight!” His voice was calm, but hard and cold as frozen steel.

Connie shivered, cringed and had trouble breathing around what she’d just escaped, and what she knew was still coming. It was all she could do to fight back tears and run frantically into the woods when she turned to make her way back to the cabin. There was no good reason for her to rile the man the way she had. None except her foolish pride that is, and that was not a reason she could defend and hold her head up from. It was all she could do to swallow it now and set about making the supper according to his orders. What was she going to do when it came time to take the spanking he promised to give her? Would she make it worse for herself, or shame herself with blubbering and tears the way she wanted to now?

As much as the rage in his eyes had frightened her, Connie half wished he’d taken her over his knee right then and there in the barn. She shivered as she stepped into the outhouse and lifted her new skirt and opened the too big bloomers so she could relieve herself. The outhouse was well built but not equipped to keep out the chill. Connie shivered again. This time the prickling on her bottom was genuine goose flesh. “My stepfather would have spanked me right then,” she winced into her hands. For that matter every man she’d ever known so far in her life would have spanked her immediately.

“No,” she corrected her thinking when she finished and righted her clothes. “They wouldn’t have bothered.” None of those men would have bothered to take her over their knee. They would have taken their hands and fists to her face and body and pummeled her in full fury until their anger found release.

This man was different, and Connie was very confused by the mixed up sense of relief, remorse and angry defiance he made her feel.

All of her life, Connie prided herself on being “the calm one”. She’d always had a temper and a stubborn streak that lurked under the surface, but until the last year, she’d never let it out, nor had she ever let it get the better of her. Now, in these last weeks, it all but ruled her, and it was ruining everything.

“What would you do Mary?” Connie looked up and out toward the ridge where Royal’s wife rested for eternity. She couldn’t help but let one tear escape and trickle down her face. “Why couldn’t I just tell him I didn’t know how? Why did I have to go off like that?”

A short gust of wind buffeted the cabin, as Connie mounted the steps. It shook the glass in the widows, and sent a hiss of fine glazed snow down from the roof onto the wood planks of the porch. The worst of the blizzard seemed to be over, and the night air felt almost warm after the bone chilling howling tempest that had been the weather on and off through most of the day. Connie took the hint, and stepped inside the cabin.

~ooo00ooo~

There was little else she could do but make the supper her host ordered up, not if she wanted to retain what little illusion remained of her sanity.“No sense worrying about what’s done,” she told herself as she pulled down what supplies she’d need to make supper. “Sweet potatoes and turkey he said. Hell there’s carrots and corn too. And cakes and pastries! This is a feast! A Christmas feast!”Connie made supper, licking and tasting everything she put in the skillet or on the peel to heat in the oven. Her thoughts strayed to the man in the barn, and to Mary’s journals under his bed. Would he notice if she took them to read one at a time? She knew what box they were in now. She could get into it without disturbing its location.

“But I promised,” she closed her eyes and balled her fists. “Hell!” she answered her pounding heart. “He’s already going to skin me alive. What else could he do to me?”

Feeling guilty and ashamed for the promise she was breaking, and the privacy she invaded, but much more compelled by a need she couldn’t explain, Connie scrambled into Royal’s bedroom, felt her way under the bed and into the box near the foot. “Please Mary?” she whispered. The books were exactly where she’d left them, and the one she’d been reading was still on top of the pile.

“Oh thank you!” Connie whispered to whatever spirits got her that far. Her legs were almost too weak to make the ladder to her loft, but they did it for her, and she was back down setting the table before Royal stomped up the steps and exploded into he house.

The look in his eyes told her that even though Royal had managed to corral his temper, she was still in a lot of trouble.

“Sit down and eat,” he gestured impatiently to her as he took his coat and boots off. “I’ll join you in a minute.”

After situating his coat neatly, Royal moved over into his bedroom. Connie’s heart pounded with fear that he might be checking on the boxes under his bed. When he came back out with a flat backed wooden hairbrush and set it on the table beside his plate, her heart pounded even more rapidly, although she did feel an inkling of relief that for now the other crime was undiscovered.

“Eat!” Royal snapped, taking Connie’s attention away from the brush.

“What’s that for?” Connie nervously picked at the food on her plate.

Royal almost laughed. “I think you know,” his answer was curt. “Eat.”

Connie picked some more, and managed to swallow a few bites before she spoke. “What if I told you I was sorry?”

“Might take off a few licks I suppose,” Royal nodded.

“Look, I don’t know how to milk a cow OK? I couldn’t do it and I was embarrassed to tell you,” Connie tried to explain.

“I figured that out for myself Constance. Doesn’t excuse the foul language and down right rude behavior,” Royal acknowledged.

“But you startled me,” Connie complained.

Royal cocked his head with amusement. “You are brazen, that’s certain. I recon you just earned back those licks.”

Royal turned his attention back to his meal while Connie once again struggled with her temper.

“I think I could hate you,” was the safest retort she could come up with.

Royal looked back up at her and chuckled. “Eat your supper while it’s hot.”

They ate the rest of the meal in silence.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, December 12th, 2007 at 6:33 pm and is filed under Spanking. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.