Cowgirls & Angels

Chapter 2

Yeah, I was rattled by it. “So, how come?” I asked.

“Because I love you. And I was so worried about you taking chances with no one around, I’ve never been so pissed.” He looked like he was getting pissed again.

“And that’s how you show love?” I ventured again.

“One of the many ways, Mrs. Montgomery. Face it, you married an old-fashioned guy, and for better or worse, you have me just the way I am. You’re not going to change me, likely any more than I’m going to change you. But I will give you a piece of my mind and a piece of my belt, if you screw up again.”

He expression was tough, his eyes were focused and clear, and it was clear to me that he meant every word he said. I’d better face it now as fight it.

***

Thursday nights, Rys played poker with his buddies. I thought of them as riffraff. They were a bunch that floated from ranch to ranch aimlessly. They probably would for the next twenty years. Rys was the only married one and I didn’t like that much at all. Occasionally, one of the town sluts would hang around their games, looking to tease a man to bed, lining her pockets with a little easy cash. To me, this Thursday night poker game was something that had to end, though I wasn’t sure how I was going to make that happen. I certainly didn’t want to raise my objections head-on, not if he thought it was a threat to his dominion over our relationship. I still didn’t think I’d make much of a submissively inclined wife, but I’d decided that I was going to have to use a little female cunning to get what I wanted.

I’m afraid my plan backfired, then again, it was really no “plan” at all, and it was hardly cunning.

One Thursday evening while I brooded alone at the ranch, I was getting particularly anxious when Rys wasn’t home by eleven as he usually was on poker night. He said he might be late, but that really didn’t matter, I wasn’t happy he was gone in the first place. Growing more restless with this “guys-night-out” crap, I finally took off in my truck, just to see what was going on. Driving toward town, I turned off the road at the Whitcomb ranch where the last month’s poker game had been played. John Whitcomb had the most lackluster ranch anywhere around. He’d never done well with cattle or horses, and he was almost always days from going belly-up. It was speculated that several times a good take in a poker game was the only thing that kept him from bankruptcy. He was not the kind of company I wanted my husband to keep.

Driving up to Whitcomb’s house, I waited for a few minutes in the truck, not sure that I wanted to go inside. But hearing a lot of loud conversation through the open window I could feel myself getting mad as a raging bull. I could see through the curtain, some floozy moseying her way around the table, and then sitting on a man’s lap. It might have been Rys’s she’d plunked her ass on. I was seeing red.

Out of the truck, I charged for the front door, and without knocking I burst inside, going straight for the kitchen. My eyes were flashing fire. But I stopped in my tracks and stared at the bewildered group. I had no idea what to say.

“What are you doing here?” Rys said, looking up, surprised to see my face. Thankfully, he didn’t have the loose strumpet in his lap, but I wasn’t so sure she hadn’t already been there.

“Shouldn’t you be home?” I managed to ask him, trying to hold back my anger. All these male faces and that cheaply made-up w***e staring at me, I was overawed.

“I should be home shortly,” he replied, “but you should be home in bed.” He stared at me with stern, unmoving eyes. He wasn’t happy, but then, neither was I.

“I don’t see much poker going on here,” I sassed at him. There were no cards in sight.

“We just finished,” Rys said.

I stared at the woman, seeing a smug look on her face.

“Go home, Blair,” Rys said. It wasn’t a request but an order.

“Not unless you’re coming with me,” I returned.

“I said I’d be home shortly,” he said.

“But I want you to come now,” I replied, my words seething with smothered energy.

His expression only looked more unyielding. “When I tell you I’ll be home, I’ll be there. I don’t lie to you.”

“But I’m tired of your associating with this riffraff,” I blurted out.

Rys’s look turned especially rigid and his eyes flared.

“These are my friends, and you won’t insult them. Apologize now?”

“Apologize!” I stared at him shocked, then glanced at the floozy. “Her too?”

He was dangerously close to exploding on the spot.

“Her too.” he answered. “Now apologize.”

“I refuse.” I was standing my ground, even though it was turning to mush beneath my feet.

“If you want me to take you over my knee right here, I will,” he warned.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Would you like to try me, Mrs. Montgomery?” he said.

I didn’t believe him, but I should have, because he was as serious as I’d ever seen him. Seeing that I wasn’t budging, he leapt from his chair and was on me. And in a move so swift it left me wondering if it wasn’t accomplished by magic, he had his belt stripped from around his waist, and me firmly in tow. It was unfortunate that I was wearing a skirt that night, because seconds later, there I was, flung across his lap, my skirt raised, his doubled work belt coming down on my ass with an angry blast of smacks. There was just a thin pair of bikini cotton panties to cover my rear.

“Ouch! Goddammit,” I blared.

He laid in to me for all he was worth. That simple spanking in the stable didn’t even compare to his. The bite of the leather was mean and cutting. I was sure there were going to be blisters by the time he was done. Not only that, but the fact that there was a whole room full of men and one cheap slut looking on, only made my agony more desperate. I kicked and fought and cussed like crazy, but Rys kept going on.

“My, that’s getting mighty red,” one of his cronies piped in. My face blushed almost as hotly as my ass, though no one could see it with my black hair flailing wildly around my head which was upended and out of sight.

I cussed a blue streak, and Rys became even more furious. Pausing for a second, he suddenly jerked my panties down, so my ass was bared. Then he laid into me again with the belt coming down on my naked cheeks, the sting instantly angry.

“Oh, no you don’t!” I shouted, as my hands flailed madly.

Of course he didn’t heed my words. He just continued spanking my behind in full view of the gawking crowd. And when my hands got in his way, trying to reach back to protect my sore bottom, he gathered them in his hand and pinned them with an iron tight grip to my back.

“Oooh, yes,” one man murmured.

Another said, “I should try this with that dame I’m living with.”

Rys paid no mind to their indecent remarks, but I was humiliated and fighting mad. I couldn’t believe he’d put me through this. After another pause to secure my kicking legs, he started in one more time laying the belt against my naked skin so I was roaring loudly. I couldn’t even form words but spouted a bunch of angry nonsense, “ouch, ow, ouch, naaaaaaaa, pleeese, fucker noooooooooo.” I was desperate and desperately mad. And then because I couldn’t think of any other way to make him stop, I started blabbering something that was suppose to sound like an apology.

At first, it didn’t seem to matter what I was saying. But then, I noticed he began to slow the pace.

“Rys, I’m sorry!” I gave the words every bit of sincerity I could considering the circumstances.

“Are you ready to apologize,” he asked, pausing to hear my answer.

“Yes,” I answered quite convincingly, I think, and he eased up to the point that there was just one final blow. That landed with a heavy thwack as the thick belt snapped right down the center of both burning cheeks.

I would have been happy to crawl away and never face this crowd again, but Rys was determined otherwise. Bringing me to my feet, his hand held me close to his side, and I peered at the astonished audience. There I was, standing before all of them red-faced, red-assed, my panties bunched at my ankles. Thankfully, my skirt had dropped down over my hips and I wasn’t showing everything.

“Now, you can give my friends that apology,” he urged me when I didn’t speak.

With that instruction, I almost shouted a defiant “NO!” but I was sure that he’d only start all over again. I could tell just from the way he held me so closely to his side, that he’d not yet lost the nasty edge.

“I’m sorry, very sorry. I should never have …” my voice trailed off to a whisper, but apparently that was enough for Rys.

“Now get in the truck, I’ll see to you more when I get home.”

“You’re going to give her another whipping?” I heard one voice ask, as I was quickly out of my husband’s arms and out the swinging door. As I listened to the screen bang noisily on its hinges I heard his reply.

“I just might,” he said, and I shuddered at the thought.

For a long time that night, I drove around. Not that I actually enjoyed sitting on my sore ass, but I couldn’t imagine how I felt, or should feel after being so humiliated. I needed time to think. One side of me was blatantly aroused, that was certain. I think if Rys had taken me into Whitcomb’s bedroom just after he finished, I would have made love in a heartbeat, despite how angry I was. But with a little distance between me and that horror, all I could dredge up in that hour’s drive was my great anger. Rys Montgomery would not hear the last of this, not in a long time, I was sure of that.

By the time I pulled up to the house, Rys was already there. And when I got inside, there he was waiting up for me, looking as righteous and arrogant as he had at Whitcomb’s.

“Where’ve you been?” he asked, his tone accusatory.

“Around.”

“Around where?”

“I drove around,” I spewed out sassily. “Anything to stay away from you.”

He raised his eyebrows, apparently not upset by my remark.

“I’ve never been so humiliated in my life,” I went on. “To think that my own husband would put me through that ordeal. It’s one thing to spank me in private, but before all those people. I should leave you right now, or kick you out, or …”

“Have you said enough?” he interrupted me.

“No, I haven’t said enough. If you think I’m going to sleep with you, you’d better think again. Don’t you try coming to bed, because I will cry rape and daddy’ll be on you with his shotgun before you can stop him.”

“You’re making a big mistake, Blair,” Rys warned.

“I don’t really care what you think.”

I could have said a lot more, but instead, I stormed up the stairway and slammed the bedroom door behind me, despite the fact that it was after one a.m. and I might easily have roused my father from sleep. I think secretly I hoped for that to happen. Let Rys explain why we were fighting, it would be an interesting conversation.

In the morning, I had another shock. When I finally came downstairs, timed purposely so I’d find myself alone in the kitchen, I discovered both my daddy and Rys still sitting drinking coffee. They rarely talked and this conversation looked suspicious, though they continued with their remarks about the next group of horses that need to be worked. It seemed, contrary to my first impression, they weren’t talking about me at all.

Helping myself to a cup of coffee, I then grabbed a piece of bread to make some toast.

“So, what was all that commotion going on last night? You two were enough to wake the dead, let alone keep an old man from sleep.”

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” I started to soothe him, but Rys chimed in.

“Your daughter and I were having a fight,” he said.

“You don’t have to tell him,” I said, looking at him peeved.

“No, I don’t have to,” he replied. “But I think I will, since it’s likely there will be gossip.” I didn’t need him to remind me, and the pain in my ass started in again just hearing him say so. “Fact was, Mr. Trabor, I spanked your daughter’s ass in front of my poker buddies. She barged in on a card game, ordered me home like a jealous shrew and then insulted my friends. She wouldn’t apologize and she wouldn’t leave unless she had my balls in a vice grip. I’m not going to put up with that behavior in any woman, especially my wife.”