“Uhoh”, I thought. There was Aunt Jayne. “She’s looking for me, I just knew it!” I had been running around all day long trying to avoid her. She was mad as hell and with pretty good reason. I had flooded the bathroom again. Really bad this time. Phewwwww blowing a long stream of air from my lips. Looking again toward Aunt Jayne. I don’t know what I’m going to do. I can’t stay here hiding much longer. My stomach is growling now. I can smell dinner cooking. God Aunt Jayne sure can cook. She says all her recipes aren’t. When I ask her to tell Mom how to make things. Back in the city we eat mostly takehome. Chinese and Italian mostly. The only Italian food here is Chef Boy-ar-Dee at the IGA. I’m starving. I smell peaches. All just hanging there. I should have grabbed some when I had the chance. Collapsing back against the corner of the barn, wiping the sweat from my face. “Hell and Damnation!”, I whispered, wondering if Aunt Jayne can hear me from there. A part of me kind of wishing she could. It would get all this over with anyhow. “Why am I so stupid!” The bathroom was really flooded bad this time. I don’t know why I am so dumb about that. But that big old bathtub is so great. I can run the water deep enough to float in. The tub is a wreck. Humongous old castiron thing. It’s a wonder it didn’t fall through to the second floor. That old bitch was right for once in her life. Not Aunt Jayne. That Mrs. Whatsherface who “helps out”. She cleans. But you can’t say that. Sinking down to sitting, picking up a pebble and flinging it. “Geez!”, looking quickly over to the house. Aunt Jayne had gone back inside. A tray was sitting on the porch table. Oh God! Dinner! It all smelled so good. I’m so hungry. There goes the old sourpuss. Nasty faced old bitch. Look at her! Turning around and shaking her hand at Aunt Jayne. I know just what she’s saying about me too. She never liked me and I never liked her. She says “He belongs in the city!”, like it’s some kind of bad thing. I come here every summer. I stay here with Aunt Jayne all summer, every summer. From the day after class ends to the day before they begin. I love it. This whole house is a museum. I mean it. A real museum and a private library. Aunt Jayne runs it and I get to come every summer. We are way out in the country here although Aunt Jayne laughs and says, “Honey, we are in town!” Town is an IGA supermarket about the size of the candy store back home, a Post Office which is in the gas station. Well, there is a little more than that. But not much. The County Courthouse is here too, which is one room. “Two”, says Aunt Jayne, “Don’t forget the bathroom.” There’s a few blocks of houses, mostly old, but this is the oldest. And then the road runs out of town. Aunt Jayne loves it here. So do I. I’m a bit of a geek. I know that. I love to read and work on history projects. I make up my own projects. That’s why I love it so much here. This little town is packed full of Civil War history. I have bullets and arrowheads that I find around here. And old glass bottles. Once I found a whole china dish. Just buried there under the dirt. It was just luck I found it. I tossed a pebble and heard it clink. Aunt Jayne had a matching one in the case. She knew all about who had owned those dishes. She let me keep mine. But we left it in the display with hers. The only two left from that family’s whole set. The genuine article. Aunt Jayne’s whole house is the genuine article. A real Civil War era plantation. “Farm, Billyboy, this was a farm, not a plantation.” I don’t care. Real people lived here and all the stuff they actually used is here. There is a cannon out front too. I love it. It was left there with a broken wheel after a battle. Aunt Jayne lives in several rooms in the back, the front is the Museum of Daily Life on the first two floors and the cellar too. The third floor is the library. Aunt Jayne says that she should change it so the library is downstairs for the oldies, but then the kids would never come in if they saw the books first. All this has nothing to do with the bathroom being flooded, except that the closet holding the old linens is what got all wet. Which is why Aunt Jayne is so mad at me. What happened there was the same as always. There isn’t any air-conditioning here, and it gets so hot. I really stay busy all day too, digging and exploring and all. Yesterday I went to the mine. It is a long walk there, but I like it. I see all sorts of good stuff on the way. Once I saw a black snake that was stretched all across the road. I thought it was a branch that had fallen and figured that I would move it when I got there. The closer I got, the funnier it looked. Then a car came and damn if that wasn’t a big snake! The car ran over the end of it as it slithered off the pavement. Boy am I glad that car came. That was close enough to a snake that big! I don’t care if Aunt Jayne says black snakes don’t bite. I don’t much like the way she laughs when she says it. She is great, my Aunt Jayne is. Anyway, yesterday, I had gone to the rock mine and had gotten a few nice pieces. When I got back, Aunt Jayne and I sat on the back porch and ate dinner watching the sun set. Then I went up to take a bath, mining makes you dirty you know, and go to bed. I was really hot and dirty and sweaty and stinky. I love to take a bath in that big tub. It is so different from the one in the apartment back home. The water is cool and the big window opened with the breeze coming in. It’s up on the third floor, with a slanted ceiling. The tub is right in the middle of the room. I sit in the tub feeling that scratchy rusty part under my butt where the finish is worn off. I wash all over real good, then rinse off. There is this big rubber shower thing that attaches right to the faucet. It’s a wierd way to shower, but it works. I just pull it off then and the water runs into the tub. Boy, that smells good. I’m so dirty and hungry now. I wish I could just eat and get clean and go to bed. I always let the water drip in slowly. When I am hot and like this, like last night. After I get clean I plug the tub and let the water kind of drizzle in, nice and slow. The breeze comes in the window and I can see the moon and stars. It is so cool. I sink into that tub when it’s like that and drift off to sleep. Then, when I sort of wake up, I get out and stagger off to bed, all wet still. It is so cool and refreshing at night. But, every now and then, like last night, I forget to pull the plug and turn off the water drizzle. There was water all over the bathroom this morning and it was dripping down into the closet below. Aunt Jayne is really mad. I don’t blame her at all. I helped her clean up this morning, but she had to call that bitch in to help with the mess in the closet. They were in there for hours, washing up all the stuff that got dripped on, and laundering the towels we had to use to sop it all up. And the ceiling has to be repaired. I know that she is really mad, and she should be. I was careless and irresponsible. Aunt Jayne will punish me. I deserve it. Aunt Jayne spanks. I never ever got spanked until the first summer I came here. She spanks with a little piece of leather that looks like it broke off something longer. It flaps around and doesn’t look like it would hurt, but it does. Then, after she spanks with that, she pulls my pants down and spanks me again with her hand. She says, “Billyboy, if I just used my hand, it wouldn’t hurt. What’s the good of a spanking if it doesn’t hurt?” I guess she has a point. She says the leather is a warm up. A good name for it. The sun is setting now. I keep peeking around the edge of the barn at the house. Aunt Jayne is rocking on the back porch with our dinner on a tray sitting on the table. She looks so pretty. The sky is all rosey red and blue and it wraps all around in back of her. I can smell the food. It is like she is luring me in with the the dinner. It smells so good. There is cornbread. I really like it here with Aunt Jayne. I like the house, it being a museum and all. I like the little town and the history. I like the old ways that are here. I like Aunt Jayne. I like how she spanks me and I am afraid that she will notice it. I’m getting older now. I used to like it only after, when it didn’t hurt anymore. Just felt all warm and cozy. But now, I like just thinking about her spanking me. I think about being over Aunt Jayne’s lap, all soft and sweet smelling. I like thinking about that piece of leather too. I even find myself wishing that Aunt Jayne would pull my pants down first. I’m wearing shorts. I put them on so that my legs would get hit on the bare. I even practiced laying over the chair, and put my hand back to see how much of my butt would show. How much would be hit with the leather too. And I think then about when the shorts come down. I used to just think of the spanking when my pants came down, and I would yell and cry begging her “not on the bare!!”, because it hurts more on the bare. Now I keep thinking of Aunt Jayne’s pretty hands. Her hands are very soft and very white. Her nails are not real long, but are so round and pink. Aunt Jayne has tiny hands. When I was younger, those tiny hands seemed to sting all over my bottom. I remember how it felt. I remember jumping myself, jerking my body up and down on her lap, yelling as she spanked me with those tiny white hands. OUCH OUCH OUCH OUCH I remember it. I would yell OUCH at each spank and take a breath in between. But now, the last time Aunt Jayne spanked me, I tried to yell ouch, but it wouldn’t come. I liked those stinging spanks. And wanted more of them. I didn’t jump up and down, but moved my hips instead, pushing into her lap in the front and up to her hand in the back. I would move side to side too, trying to catch a sting here and there. Places that hurt more without being spanked, than the places that had been spanked burned. That’s why I’m waiting. Aunt Jayne is rocking faster and faster. Tapping her foot, looking around. I want her angry and mad. I want Aunt Jayne to spank me really long and hard. Real long and hard. I deserve it. I do. I made a big careless mess. I should be punished. I was irresponsible and foolish. I deserve to be spanked. I do. Aunt Jayne made dessert too. I can smell the peach cobbler. My father is a lawyer. He always says that the bad buys get their just desserts. That’s all I want. I was the bad guy and I just want my dessert.
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