Copyright © 2006 by Leah Kelley




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Part 1:  The Trucker’s Wife



     She was still staring out the window.  Lucas bit his jaw and concentrated on the road ahead of him.  A kid in a car made the signal for him to blow his air horn and he complied.  He was rewarded with a big smile.


     His wife jerked before giving him a dirty look and went back to staring out the window.  He was so tired of her sour attitude.  She needed a good spanking.  Deliberately ignoring her, he turned his mind back to the task at hand.  He needed to get home as quickly as possible.


     Ever since he’d gotten the phone call two days ago that his ex-wife was getting re-married and now wanted him to take custody of their fourteen year old daughter, he’d thought of nothing else but his little girl.  He’d been so full of hope when they finally were able to conceive.  He’d tried to do everything right.  He took his role as head of household seriously and was very concerned about bringing his daughter up in the admonition of the Lord.  He and his ex-wife attended Christian parenting classes and conferences.  They’d given their daughter love and affection, and they’d spanked her when she needed it.  By the age of twelve Jill-Ann was showing promise of growing up beautiful, honest, and unspoiled.  She’d given her life to the Lord and was serving in the church in various capacities.  He’d congratulated himself on raising such a lovely daughter.


     But he’d failed in his marriage.  His wife, who he thought was like-minded with him, was actually only telling him what he wanted to hear.  It was she who needed the spankings, he later found out.  She left him for a deacon in the church, shattering not only their marriage but the deacon’s as well.  And Jill-Ann had never been the same.


     Now two years later Sherry felt she couldn’t handle the mess she’d made and wanted him to step back in and fix it all.  He gritted his teeth.  He’d love to tell her where to stick it but he wouldn’t, of course.  Jill-Ann was his daughter and he could never give up on her.


     He glanced at his pretty new wife, Alyssa.  Ten years his junior, she was too young to raise a fourteen year old, but she’d not had a negative word to say about it even though they’d only been married two months.  He was thankful for her willingness to change their life’s plans on a moments notice simply because she knew how much his daughter meant to him and loved him enough to sacrifice her own desires for his daughter’s sake.  His wife had a kind heart and a lovely spirit despite her tendency to pout.


     His stomach soured.  This is the way things had started out with his ex-wife as well.  A little argument here, a few hurtful words there, both of them angry and not speaking.  A small thing would go on for hours, and later for days, before they’d get lonely and start to speak again without ever solving the problem that caused it all to begin with.  Things built until there was so much hurt they couldn’t begin to find the root of it.  He didn’t want that to happen with Alyssa.


    If the argument had been his fault he’d be happy to apologize, but it hadn’t.  Alyssa was the one who snapped at him when he took a wrong exit.  He retaliated with hateful words of his own, and she became emotional, threatening to take the next Greyhound bus back home to her daddy.  He, of course, told her that would be perfectly fine with him.  That all happened two hundred miles ago, and he was getting thoroughly sick of her pouting.


     His eyes slid to the glove box, remembering what was still inside.  He and his ex-wife had attended a child-rearing conference in Indianapolis when their daughter was no older than two or three.  The conference had been pro-spanking, and afterwards next to the Michael Perl and Richard Fugate books they’d found for sale a “Chastening Implement”, affectionately known otherwise as the “Wisdom Worker”.  Made of flexible polyurethane, it was advertised to provide just the right amount of sting without causing injury.   He and his wife had joked about it and he’d whapped his leg with it. Ouch!  Man, that thing had hurt.


     After lunch they’d decided that perhaps a purchase of the “Wisdom Worker” wouldn’t be such a bad idea.  It was small enough to fit into purses, glove boxes, and the like, and it wouldn’t take a lot of space to provide a thorough lesson to a misbehaving child.  They’d gone back to the table late in the day and, since there was a buy one, get one free sale going on, bought four—one for her purse, one for the car, one for the house, and since they had one left over they put it in the glove box of his eighteen-wheeler for those frequent occasions he took his family with him on an over-the-road trip.


       Since most spanking experts recommended parents not use their hand for discipline, the “Wisdom Worker” had been just the thing.  Jill-Ann had received her spankings immediately after the misbehavior occurred, just as the experts recommended.  The lesson provided was of a severity to bring deep regret, yet the implement never left a mark on her that lasted more than a half hour.  Though it was rarely used at home it was worth its weight in gold for those occasions when they were out and needed to discipline their daughter.


     With all this child-rearing knowledge running through his head, he couldn’t help but think that Alyssa could benefit from some of it.   She had a sweet disposition most of the time, but she could certainly stand to learn a few lessons in respect and obedience.  She claimed to strongly believe in submission to her husband and even wore dresses all the time as a sign of this, but she didn’t always practice what she preached.  Perhaps she needed a bit of help from him.


     He glanced at her again.  She caught his gaze, raised her chin and deliberately turned her head.  If that had been his daughter she’d be across his knee right now.  Why should Alyssa be any different?  She was under his authority just as surely as was his daughter.


     Be consistent.  The child should be punished for their misbehavior every single time.


       Lucas found himself substituting “wife” for “child” in his thoughts.


     The spanking should be of a length and severity that the wife realizes the misbehavior is never worth the punishment.


    It would certainly be nice not to have to deal with Alyssa’s pouting anymore.  That was her one habit that drove him crazy, one he didn’t realize she had until after they’d been married a couple of weeks.  She used it to control him.  He always hesitated to rebuke her in any way, always questioning whether it was worth hours of his wife’s pouting if he did.  He could see it damaging their marriage down the road and it worried him.


     The wife should always know beforehand the consequences of her misbehavior.


      “Alyssa,” he said to the back of her head, “I am tired of your pouting.  I will give you one minute to stop.  If you choose to continue to behave like a child I will treat you like one and spank you.  Do you understand?”


     She turned to pin him with a look, her nostrils flaring.  Rolling her eyes she turned back to the window.


     Lucas watched the clock, his heart thudding.  She may very well get on a Greyhound and head home to daddy, but he wasn’t going to put up with it any longer.  The way he saw it their marriage could end now if he spanked her or it could end later if he didn’t.  Or he could stop this misbehavior in its tracks and they could have a peaceful, happy life together.


     The clock changed from 2:01 to 2:02.  He gave her until 2:03 before he started to look for an exit.

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