Memory is a funny thing. I'm sitting here in a pizza joint and it's dark and sleeting outside. I'm twenty one years old, in my third year of college, and sitting here with a few friends. It's Thanksgiving night, and we're the few who didn't go home for the holiday or have no home to go to. Someone walked in the door and yelled, "Frankie, you in here?" and suddenly I was back on the farm.
It was a hot summer afternoon, and my cousin Frankie and I were in the hay loft in the barn. If you've never been in a hay loft, it's like an open attic in a barn. You climb a ladder to get there and it's rather warm. But I was sucking Frankie's cock, which was just about my favorite thing to do. We'd fucked a few times, but then worried since we are cousins and didn't want to get caught. So every time he had the urge and I was doing nothing else anyway, we'd sneak to some out of the way place on the farm and I'd suck him off.
"Frankie, you in here?" it was his Dad. "Have you seen Becky?"
"Ah, yeah, Dad, we're up here."
Well, I don't have to tell you how we were scrambling to put ourselves in order. I still had my clothes on, but he was trying to stuff his shirt into his jeans and fasten them at the same time while stumbling to the ladder. We both climbed down just as quickly as we could to see Uncle Jacob standing there. If people could blow up, he looked like he was just about ready.
"What the hell were you kids doing up there? You're not having intercourse, are you? You know you can't do that. I'll not have that kind of behavior on my place."
"No, Dad, we weren't having intercourse. Becky was just, ah…sucking me off." His voice just kinda trailed off into a whisper.
"Frankie. You can't be doing that with your cousin. But I guess at your age, all you think about all day is your hard cock. Well, run down to Fred Johnson's place, he's going to put you to work for the afternoon. Maybe some hard work in the sun will get your mind off your pecker."
"Yes, Dad." And Frankie just walked out the door. I knew it wasn't going to be that easy for me.
For one thing, I'm the girl; not the daughter, mind you, the niece. And ever since shortly after I got here after my parents' death, Uncle Jacob has found a reason or excuse to paddle my behind nearly every day. Of course, he did that to Aunt Marjorie, too. He firmly believed that women had to be kept in their place by frequent spankings. Didn't even matter what for. Only now, I'd really been caught doing something bad.
"You come over here, young lady." He led me to the workbench, told me to undo my jeans and bend over. There was a pole on the opposite side, which I hung onto for dear life, because I knew what was coming. He pulled down my jeans and my panties and said, "I don't want to see you wearing jeans anymore. You need to wear cotton dresses."
"Yes, sir." He picked up a leather strap that was kept at the workbench; I think just for this purpose and started beating my ass and the tops of my thighs with it.
"I knew it was going to be a mistake having you here when you two got older. Well, I'm going to see to it that Frankie is kept busy doing farm work and you I am going to confine in the house. I don't want you two to even see each other until I can find a school that I can send you to and get you out of my house. Understand?"
Well, I was sobbing because this is really starting to hurt, but I said 'Yes, sir' in between sobs and then he was done.
In the coming weeks, I never saw Frankie at all. And I was confined to the house to "help" Aunt Marjorie. And if Uncle Jacob needed an excuse to spank me in the past, this pretense was long gone. My jeans and shorts were long gone, also, and whenever he had a mind to; when Frankie is gone who knows where and Aunt Marjorie is outside hanging clothes, Uncle Jacob would come into the kitchen for a cold drink and say, "Becky, come here." I would come to him and immediately bend over the table or counter or chair or whatever he would indicate, because I knew it was time for him to beat my ass again.
Most of the time he would use a wooden paddle. And if he were out in the fields all day so he never had a chance for my daily spanking, he would administer it in the evening after coming in, cleaning up, and having supper.
He got me to confess that Frankie and I had indeed had intercourse a few times several months ago, but it was apparent I was not pregnant, which was a great relief to us all, but I no longer had a doubt that I would be punished daily.
Within a few weeks I was accepted to a college in a neighboring state, beginning to receive monthly checks from my parents' insurance, and before I knew it, I was packing to be sent off to school.
That last morning, he must've known he'd never see me again, because that spanking was especially severe, and by the time he took me to town and I was getting on the train, he didn't come right out and say, "Don't come back." But the unspoken words hung in the air. I would not be welcomed here. I lugged my two suitcases onto the train, and found a seat just as it was pulling away from the station.
Sitting down was the hardest part. There was no possible position for me to sit that wasn't painful. And I noticed the conductor looking at me a bit funny. I thought he would say something, but he didn't. Only he was nice to me the whole trip.
So, now for the past three years, I've been living at school, studying hard, getting good grades and working part time. I get monthly checks, but since I never go anywhere for holidays and such, I work at the school to fill in the time.
Anyway, here I was, sitting in the pizza joint with some friends, having a few beers and pizza. Rick and Laura decided they were going back to her place, and I was just left there with Steve.
I've known Steve since I first got here, and he's the closest thing to a real friend I have. Only I never told him much about my childhood. He knows about my parents, of course. And he knows I have no where to go on holidays and vacations, but I've never really filled in the blanks for him. I suddenly realized I was still looking out the window as he was talking to me.
"You haven't heard a word, have you?"
"Uh, no, I'm sorry. I was back in time so to speak." He didn't say anything for awhile. Then, "You know, Becky, anytime you really want to, or need to talk, I'm here. And non-judgmental, just as a friend. I'm here to listen."
