The Runaway - part one

If I tried to tell you everything going on at the river these days you probably wouldn't believe it. But I've missed posting and I thought you might enjoy this.

The Runaway

I do have a wonderful life and I give Tom all the credit for making our lives so good. There are times, though, when I let my mind wander back to our early marriage. I had more bad habits than you could shake a stick at, but I suppose the worst was running away.

Sometimes I was only gone a short time, but there were times I evaded him for a week or more. I don’t think there are many things I have ever done that have made him any madder. I’m afraid some of the stories are pretty dark – it was a bad time, but some strike me as funny now. Not that I would ever tell Tom that. And, truly, there are parts of my anatomy that thought all those incidents were dark and scary.

Before we were married, back when I was a wild-child, I needed constant activity. During the day we had brunches, shopping trips, visits to the casino – this, of course, was before the infamous cruise. I attended luncheons, club meetings, afternoon teas, dinner and dancing and sometimes all-night parties. I just had to be doing something. Stopping and having time to think about my life was something I didn’t like and tried to avoid. I was better after we married, but old habits die hard. When Tom was working, I had to be on the go. Often this swirl of activity was too much for too long and I would become exhausted and quite ill-tempered and snappish with Tom in the evenings.

Tom, of course, would only put up with this for so long before he put his foot down. Sometimes he would take off work and spend the day at home with me. Those times were wonderful. He would pamper me and I loved the resting and relaxation.

There came one evening when I arrived home after Tom, something he didn’t like to begin with. I was exhausted. I think I came in biting Tom’s head off about something. I was just on a tear. Tom took all he was going to take. “Cassie, I know you’re tired. And I know why you’re tired. All this running around is going to stop. I don’t want you leaving this house tomorrow.  You’re going to stay home and rest. We’ll see about the next day, but I’m not putting up with your attitude any longer.”

“I’ll do as I damn well please,” I flared. “Not you or anyone else is going to tell me when I may come and go. Stay the hell out of my business.”

I know, I know, feel free to groan at this point. It’s just possible I may have had a bit too much to drink that afternoon. But in my defense, we hadn’t been married a year. If I managed to go a few weeks with no spanking, I tended to forget exactly what it was like and I reverted to my old self. Unfortunately for me, Tom was his old self too.

I got about three swats with his hand before he realized I was wearing a girdle. Rather than try to wrestle it off at the moment he quickly pulled me into the kitchen and laid into my latex encased bottom with a wooden spoon. He was burning me up with that thing, hard and fast and no let up. I was yelling, but managed not to cuss while doing it. I was much more compliant when he was finished. So when he told me to get ready for bed, I didn’t argue.

That darn girdle retained the heat from the spanking to the point of cruelty. Yet taking the horribly tight thing off was a punishment in itself. Young women today have no idea how awful it was to have to wear those things. I finally freed myself from its evil clutches and angrily threw it in the bedroom trashcan. Tom walked in then with my supper on a tray.

“That’s the perfect place for that thing,” Tom said, glancing at my discarded foundation garment. “I hate when you wear that.”

“It’s not like I want to wear one, you know,” I fussed. “I’m just trying to look good for you most of the time.”

“I’ve seen you without one on occasion and I found you quite appealing,” he told me with a smile.

I slipped on my gown and curled up on the bed. Tom had brought me a light supper. He sat the tray on the bed and turned serious. “Cassie, your attitude this evening is a perfect example of what I’ve been telling you. You do too much. You get tired and ill-tempered and I’m not putting up with it. Now you’re not to leave this house tomorrow. Do I make myself clear?”

I didn’t like it one bit. I felt like a child being grounded. I tried to get a little leeway as I ate. “I’m sorry I was so ugly when I got home. I’ll cut back honey, honest I will. But I don’t like not being able to come and go as I please. Couldn’t you stay home with me tomorrow?”

“We have people coming in from out of state and I have to be at work tomorrow. But you’d better listen to me girl.” 

“Fine!” I snapped. “But I don’t like it. You’re not being fair.”

“I’m not asking you to like it. But I’m telling you to mind me.”

It annoyed the devil out of me when he told me to ‘mind’, but I didn’t say anymore. I had every intention of acquiescing to Tom’s wishes. At least that was the plan until Sue called.

You can find part two here.