Sunday, October 20, 2013

Saturday Night in Dustville - part 1 of 3 - FM Western Spanking Story



Here' s another story for you fans of old west spanking !
Its pretty long so I've split it into 3 parts ...so hang in there.
In the first chapter the ladies of our little western town turn the tables on their men folk !



 Saturday Night in  Dustville


Beth raised her hands to acknowledge the applause from her speech to the Women’s Guild.
It was the first time they had spoken about women’s’ right to vote and to have a say in the running of their town.
Developing western towns like Dustville in the 1800’s were male dominated , but the town was quickly becoming violent , dangerous and corrupt and changes needed to be made.
However , the men of the town were quite happy with guns , fighting , drunkenness and swearing  and wanted no changes. They worked hard , played hard and wanted their women in the kitchen.

Saturday nights were the classic example.
Every man in town was at the local Saloon and soon the liquored up men would fill the street with rowdiness , fighting , gunshots and swearing.
That was exactly why Beth had scheduled her address  to end just as the Saturday night frenzy was under way.

As the women poured out of the hall into the street , the sight of their men smashing up the saloon  and anything nearby was right before them.
For a moment they simply stood and stared in astonishment and disgust, appalled at the sight of their men behaving like animals.
Beth knew that despite his many promises , her husband John was likely in the thick of the action.
She seethed at the very thought and took a deep breath.

Without thinking and driven by pure adrenaline , Beth boldly strode across the street to the Saloon followed by a gaggle of her colleagues from the Ladies Guild.
Her heart was pounding and fear did not enter her mind until she was at the other end of the rowdy Saloon’s swinging doors.
She was taking in her first view of the interior of the establishment her husband frequented so often and the sight both intrigued and shocked her.


Beth’s jaw dropped momentarily but she quickly refocused as she realized the melee developing inside the Saloon was downright dangerous.
She cringed and ducked as fists , boots , bodies  , bottles and various other objects 
flailed and sailed through the air , some finding their targets and others smashing into walls or the floor.

The angry men, fueled by liquor, towered over Beth and for a split second she considered retreating back to the safety of the street but she could feel the ladies behind her waiting for her reaction.
After her rousing speech to the women, they were looking for Beth to lead and she knew that she had to follow through to demonstrate her principles.

Drawing a deep breath, Beth carefully but forcefully took a few steps into the bowels of the shaking room and looked around.
She knew her voice would be drowned out by the noise and activity and the men had barely noticed her presence .
In the thick of the fight she saw her new husband, John fending of challengers with roundhouse punches and clearly enjoying every minute, despite his earlier pledge to his wife to stay out of trouble.
Beside him, their good friend Clint Darkley the town Sheriff was making no attempt to calm the situation and was sporting a huge smile as he landed and ducked punches.
The sight infuriated Beth and her nostrils flared with rage.

Behind the bar, one of the older barmen was hunkered in the corner clutching an antiquated shotgun.
Beth seized her opportunity and after ripping the weapon from his grasp, forced her way right into the frenzied battle.
The ladies still cowering at the door cooed at her bravery before realizing they needed to help and support her.
Inspired by Beth’s bravery they charged into the room en masse, screaming and wielding parasols in the air.
Their actions caught the attention of the combatants who paused momentarily before Beth clambered onto the bar and fired a shotgun blast into the ceiling.
The force of the shot staggered Beth backwards and sent plaster from the ceiling in all directions.
It also brought an eerie silence to the room as Beth’s army of wives, fiancĂ©’s and sweethearts stood supportively in front of her.
Beth broke the silence as she waved the gun around and addressed the mob.
“ Gentlemen ….if this nonsense does not stop immediately my next shot will not be in the air…is that understood?” she yelled in a firm, clear voice.
The men were stunned and a few of them could only mumble “Yes Ma’am” as they tried to take in what was happening.

John’s eyes were as wide as saucers as he watched his wife take control of the room.
“Sheriff Darkley! 
You should be ashamed of yourself!
It’s your job to keep the peace in this town – not encourage brawling.
……and you Judge Farley…..I’m surprised to see you participate in such uncivilized behavior!
….and especially you John Dillon ….” Beth roared pointing a finger at her husband.

The entire room turned to look at Beth’s husband, as he tried to avoid her icy stare.
Realizing she now owned the room , Beth’s confidence grew, as did that of her female companions.
The inverse happened with the men folk, with their bravado gone they looked like a room of naughty schoolboys caught in the act.

Wagging a finger at her errant husband Beth continued.
“Yes …you John Dillon …..just you wait until I get you home !!”
With that Beth clambered down from her perch on the bar and marched over to her retreating spouse.

John started to o babble something but it quickly became a loud howl of pain as Beth surprised him by reaching up and grabbing his ear.
With a rough tug she dragged his head down to her level.
“I suggest you ladies do the same and bring your men-folk home for a long overdue dose of discipline !” Beth yelled at her colleagues who were as flabbergasted as everyone else by the turn of events.
John let out another squeal as Beth wheeled him around and steered him out of the saloon delivering a sound whack to the seat of his pants.

The men laughed and some even applauded at the sight of one of the toughest men in town being manhandled by his petite wife.
Their smiles quickly drained from their faces as each and every one of them was confronted face to face with a very angry woman.
Beth glanced back and smiled in satisfaction as the women followed her lead.
One by one the participants of the Saloon brawl were led home by the ear, pleading and apologizing as their other ear was warmed by a scathing scolding.

It was a sight to behold as the women finally found the courage from Beth’s example to assert themselves and bring the town’s shameful Saturday evening activity to an end.
There was a collective sense of pride among the women which contrasted with subdued looks of shame and repentance from their men  as they endured a humiliating enforced walk home to receive their long overdue comeuppance.
As Beth neared home her confidence was soaring while John continued to apologize and resorted to pleading.
His ear throbbed and felt like it would fall off if Beth ever released her grip.

Jenny Moran, a young newlywed of only a few weeks, scurried up beside Beth with he whining young husband Cecil in tow.
“Pardon me Mrs. Dillon…..but what exactly am I to do once I get Cecil home?” she asked Beth.
Beth glanced at Jenny without missing a stride as the younger woman struggled to keep up.
“You have beautiful long hair Jenny so you must own a good sturdy hairbrush?” she remarked.
Jenny nodded excitedly as she caught her breath “ Yes I do indeed Mrs. Dillon.
It’s a big Fuller brush my Mother gave me as a wedding present….Why ?” she replied naively.
Beth stopped walking to make sure Jenny understood her instructions.
“When you get home you’re going to use it to give Cecil a good spanking!” she announced.
Jenny giggled excitedly as she pictured herself taking her man over her lap .
She gave Cecil’s ear another sharp tug.
“Thanks Mrs. Dillon!” she chirped , departing as Beth shoved her husband into their house.

John groaned and rubbed his ear as Beth locked the door.
“GODAMMITT BETH….YOU ALMOST RIPPED MY EAR OFF!…..AND WHAT ARE YOU LOCKING THE DOOR FOR ?” he growled angrily.
Placing both hands on her hips and raising her brows Beth responded.
“How dare you speak to me that way after the way you’ve behaved this evening!
That foul language of yours is another thing I’m going to take care of tonight John Dillon…..and the reason I’m locking the door is because  I’m sure you wouldn’t want anyone coming in and seeing me warming your bare backside do you ?” she bellowed in response.
“WHAAAT ? Now Beth please…you can’t be serious ?” He said in a conciliatory tone.

Beth did not reply but marched over to the sink and grabbed a large bar of her homemade soap.
“Now Beth….but….but….surely you don’t….”John babbled , backing away as Beth approached him.
In a flash Beth was able to bring John down to her level with another yank of his poor ear and as his mouth opened in response she jammed in the soap.
John sputtered and gagged but Beth held the soap in place.
“The soap stays there until I take it out- is that understood John?” Beth said.
John nodded and gargled a response.
“Good – now go change into your nightshirt and bring me your razor strap.” She ordered.
John’s face flushed and his eyes opened wide but he could  not attempt to speak.
It was clear Beth meant business and he realized resistance was futile.
Head bowed and fighting the bitter taste of the soap he trudged off to the bedroom.

As she waited, a buoyant Beth rolled up her sleeves and undid the top buttons of her dress to prepare herself for the exertion to come.
After a few minutes John re-emerged , the soap still lodged in his mouth and clad only in his knee length nightshirt .
He handed his wife the leather strap he used to sharpen his razor.
Beth inspected the strap and slapped it against her palm.
John gulped and braced himself as Beth strode confidently around him, slapping the strap menacingly as she did.
She noticed that, despite his predicament, that John’s huge erection was very visible as it strained against the material of his nightshirt.
Admittedly Beth felt surges of sexual energy tingling in her loins also as she relished in her role of controlling her man for the first time in their relationship.

In their first year of marriage, and all through their courtship ,it was always John who had taken the lead and, despite her independence, Beth had accepted it as tradition .
The problem was that John viewed Beth’s strong opinions as undermining his authority and felt compelled to ‘put her in her place’.
During their relationship, this had resulted in Beth going over John’s strong lap for a good old-fashioned spanking on a regular basis.
At first John the true gentlemen administered the spankings over her layers of skirts and petticoats until Beth finally confessed to him that she barely felt a thing.
That meant John had to fight his way through the layers of garments to expose Beth’s frilly pantaloons.
It was not long after that when John discovered the drawstring on Beth’s drawers which with one tug revealed the shapely , lily white globes of her bottom.
After that all Beth’s spankings were of the bare-bottomed variety.

Beth really didn’t mind as the spankings were good fun and , with her bottom bare and tingling , always led to a torrid lovemaking session afterwards.
In fact she would often add a liberal portion of pepper and sassiness to her opinions just to give John an excuse to give her a bare bottom spanking. 
However, it was clear that over time John had taken advantage of this role and while Beth would be spanked for minor infractions, his behavior had no repercussions -  until now.

John continued to spit and gag on the soap so Beth decided to remove it in order to have his full attention.
“I trust the taste of that soap will deter you from using foul language again John?” she asked in a firm voice.
“YES!” John sputtered back.
Beth stared angrily at her husband again.
She still detected arrogance in his response.
“YES MA’AM” John corrected himself as Beth’s glare pierced his pride.
“There are going to be some changes around her my dear.” Beth began.
She continued to lecture her husband for a full 10 minutes and outlined the changes.
There would be no more drunken Saturday nights at the Saloon.
Instead John would carry out his chores instead of neglecting them and her.
He would go back to attending church with her again, starting tomorrow.
There would be no more swearing and he would respect Beth’s opinions as she respected his.
When he broke the rules, he could expect consequences such as the sound thrashing with the strap which she was about to administer.
Throughout it all John nodded and listened silently.

When she finished Beth teasingly put a hand on John’s still burgeoning erection and squeezed.
John gasped and Beth struggled to maintain her firm demeanor.
“I’ll um….er….take care of that later…..but first my dear I am going to blister your bottom !
You’re not going to be able to sit for a week!
Now turn around and put both hands on the mantle.
On your toes please!” Beth instructed firmly.

John complied and felt vulnerable and exposed.
His mouth was dry and his heart pounded as his wife slowly drew up his nightshirt to expose his muscular buttocks.
Beth stepped back to take in the view.
She loved John’s firm buttocks.
At the moment they were a pale white hue but it was Beth’s goal to transform them to a flaming red.

“Present your bottom for punishment John!” Beth barked.
John arched his back and pushed out his rear end.
“OW!” John yelped as Beth cracked her right palm against his right cheek with force.
Pleased with the reaction she landed another slap to the same spot followed by a pair to his left cheek.
John howled again , surprised by the power and sting of the spanks.
Beth’s palm stung and tingled but she knew John’s hide was tough , so gritting her teeth , she stepped back and started spanking his cheeks with all her might.
John yelled out and struggled to stay in place , his fingers digging into the mantle until the barrage of about 40 spanks ended.
Beth caught her breath.
Her palm really hurt now but she had clearly made an impression on John – literally.
She could see the pinking red  outlines where her palm had repeatedly landed on John’s skin.
It was certainly warm now – but guaranteed to be hotter.

Beth took a firm grip of the strap and took up a position to John’s left side.
His face was red and flushed as he breathed heavily.
‘CRRRAAAAAKKK!!!’
“AAAAAHH GAAAD! “ John bellowed as the strap lashed against his buttocks.
It stung even worse than it sounded.
He had little time to react as Beth followed up with a trio of whacks of the same power.
John cried out and clenched his cheeks instinctively.
“Get that bottom out mister !” Beth seethed unsympathetically.
Her husband moaned but complied.
Beth continued John’s strapping , making sure to cover every tender inch of his buttocks and upper thighs , until this skin turned that blazing crimson hue she desired.
“I’m sorry honey….please stop…my butt is on fire….please….” John pleaded.
A good dose of the strap had well and truly tamed the toughest cowboy in town.

Beth paused to catch a breath and to examine her handiwork putting a palm on John’s hot cheeks.
She had lost count of the number of strokes she had administered and could feel the red welts she had seared into John’s skin.
There was no doubt he would be feeling the effects of his thrashing every time he tried to sit for the next few days.

Satisfied that her husband was truly sorry Beth allowed him to turn around and remove his nightshirt.
His eyes moist and face contorted in a grimace ,John quickly dropped the shirt and clutching both cheeks , danced idiotically around the room in a vain attempt to sooth his burning rear.
Beth found it amusing and let him continue his dance , especially when she saw that his erection was making a dramatic comeback.

Lust built up inside Beth as she took in the sight of her handsome ,well-endowed and well- spanked husband but she needed to stay in control.
After a few moments John regained his composure enough to stand naked before Beth.
“AAWW my butt feels like I sat on a hot griddle !” he moaned.
Trying to ignore his erection , she put a finger on his chin and tilted it so his eyes met hers.
She loved those piercing steel blue eyes of his and now they even had a tinge of sensitivity about them.
“I trust you have learned a valuable lesson tonight John Dillon and be sure I will not hesitate to blister your bottom again when you need it .
Church starts early tomorrow so I suggest we go to bed now….” She said with a hint of a grin , lowering her eyes to John’s erection.
A smile spread across John’s face and with a loud “YAHOO” he scooped Beth into his arms and carried her into the bedroom.

Sheriff Clint Darkley gritted his teeth and tightened his grip on his wife’s ankle with his left hand as he struggled to stay in position - head first over Laura Darkley’s lap !
The tough Sheriff’s pants and long johns were bundled around his knees and his bare backside was so red it glowed.
“YES LAURA…… I’M  SORRY….I’M TRULY SORRY……PLEASE STOP!” he pleaded .
Laura tightened her grip on the flat piece of wood she was using as a makeshift paddle to tan her husband’s behind.
It was an improvisation which worked well , apart from the fact they kept breaking on her.
She was on her fifth slat but there were lots more left.

Laura raised her arm high and with a roundhouse swing cracked the wood firmly across her husband’s twin globes.
‘THWAAAACK!’
“AAAAARGH!” Clint howled.
The slat broke into two pieces so Laura reached down for another one.
“If you would live up to your responsibilities as a husband and a Sheriff I wouldn’t have to do this !” Laura told him before laying on another sound lick.
‘THWAAAT!’
“YEOOW!”

Laura Darkley was a fine physical specimen.
Wildly attractive but strong ,powerful and able to shoot , rope and ride as well as any man.
Clint still towered above her but he knew his wife was a handful for any man.
She was a real spitfire and Clint was the only man brave enough to try and romance Laura.
He put an end to her renowned temper tantrums early in their courting days when she poked a shotgun at Clint.
Once he had disarmed her he hauled her kicking and screaming over his lap ,and warmed the seat of her jeans.
The spanking only served to make Laura even more furious and she began aiming punches and kicks at Clint.
So back over Clint’s lap she went , but this time he peeled off her tight jeans and spanked her firm , bare bottom until it was cherry red and the fight was gone from her.

That was some time ago , but now the tables were turned and Laura was  more than able to give her man a dose of the same treatment .
With one of Laura’s strong  legs clamped around his knees and his nose almost touching the ground Clint was helpless and at his wife’s  mercy.
He made another vain attempt to wiggle off his wife’s denim clad lap and was rewarded with a series of a dozen or so of the best whacks she could muster .
The tough town Sheriff was broken and bawling like a baby , begging Laura to stop as she laid on another dozen good licks.
She finally stopped  paddling his rump  – but not before breaking yet another wooden slot in the progress.
“DARN!” she seethed and picked up another slat.

She raised her hand again , but on inspection of her husband’s well-roasted rump , decided he had enough so unceremoniously tossed him off her lap and onto the floor.
Clint wasted no time in putting both hands on his rear to sooth the burning.
“Yeooow!” he howled as Laura hauled him to his feet by his ear and marched him into the corner.
“Keep those hands on your head and stay in that corner and think about your behavior Clint Darkley!” Laura scolded.
As Clint struggled to stay in his corner , Laura went to the next room and filled the tub.

The paddling was quite a workout for her and she wiped beads of sweat from her brow while she wiggled her shapely hips to shuck off her tight jeans.
“AAAH!” she sighed as she sank into the hot suds and relaxed.
As she lay back in the tub she still had a good view of Clint standing in the corner , his crimson rear on display and his pants around his ankles.
Even worse for Clint were the tempting visions of his Amazon wife naked in the next room and he could not even turn his head to look.
His erection grew at the very thought.
Laura teased her husband by graphically describing how she was bathing in the tub.
She chuckled as Clint squirmed and shifted in the corner.

“OK Clint. If you’ve learned your lesson I’ll let you scrub my back .” Laura cooed.

“I’ve learned my lesson dear…honest…” Clint pleaded.
Kicking off his boots and pants Clint scampered over to the tub , buck-naked from the waist down.
Laura sat up in the tub and  Clint sighed at the sight of the water dripping off her firm breasts.
Ignoring the fire in his rear , he took a washcloth and began gently washing the smooth , olive skin on her athletic back.
As he did , his free hand explored her shoulders before cupping one of her breasts.
Laura moaned as Clint’s fingers massaged her firm nipples.
Their lips locked in a long passionate kiss as Laura hauled her husband on top of her and in the tub.
The violent movement of their bodies toppled the small tub spilling water everywhere but their passion was too intense to care.

Their lips still locked , Clint hoisted Laura onto the table.
She spread her legs and screamed as his long , thick shaft slowly penetrated deep inside her.
The table bucked and bounced noisily as Clint pumped and Laura urged him on until their bodies exploded in a joint orgasm.
Later as Clint lay face down on the bed , Laura applied some cold cream to his blazing buttocks.
“Guess I’ll be riding high in the saddle for a while …” Jeff said with a hint of a smile.
Laura chuckled “ Don’t worry Clint …..you won’t be the only one. Now lets go to bed….we can’t be late for church tomorrow”
Clint moaned and then let out a yelp as his wife gave his tender rear a final , playful slap.

All over town that Saturday evening the sound of fighting , swearing and drunkenness was replaced with the crack of palms , paddles , brushes , switches and other implements being applied to bare male buttocks.

Even rookie wife Jenny Moran had gained the confidence to give her husband Cecil the walloping of his life.
By the time she was finished the Fuller Brush logo was well and truly tattooed  on Cecil’s backside.
Judge Farley discovered a new meaning for the Seat of Justice from his longtime wife Martha and bore the marks of her wooden spoon on his rump for days to come.

The next morning at Church , Reverend Brown was the most surprised man in town.
Instead of a  congregation of women and a handful of old men , every man in town was dutifully waiting outside the church beside his wife and dressed in their Sunday best.
His jaw dropped as Beth and John were the first to greet him.
“Looks like you’ll have a full house today Reverend “ Beth declared proudly.

The Reverend was still stunned as he climbed into the pulpit to start his sermon and surveyed the packed congregation standing before him.
“Please be seated” he announced formally.
As his flock complied , a collective “YEOOW!” from each and every man echoed through the church as their tender sit-spots pressed into the hard wooden pews.
They all instinctively sprang back up  , clutching their rears , while their wives remained seated.
While the men blushed , their ladies put hands to their mouths and tittered like schoolgirls.

The Reverend was rendered speechless and puzzled yet again.
Beth Dillon gingerly raised her hand to speak , trying hard to control a giggle.
“Would you mind if our men could stand for the Service Reverend?
They would be…er…much more comfortable..” she said tactfully.

“They’re too sore to sit after the whuppin’s we gave ‘em last night Reverend !” a female voice shouted from the rear pews to uproarious laughter from the ladies.
“I understand …..Of course you may stand Gentlemen .” The Reverend replied shaking his head in amusement and disbelief.

                      
THE END ? ABSOLUTELY NOT !!!



































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