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....CRACK!.....CRACK! "uh, um, fourteen" I wimpered. "Sorry bud" my uncle said "you messed up, start from one" It felt like the world was crumbling around me. I couldn't even think of the possibility that I'd have to go through those fourteen hits again. CRACK!......CRACK!.....CRACK! "Do you want to do this all day?" asked Jim "I suggest you start counting" CRACK! "one" I muttered through my sobing. CRACK! "two" I wimpered again. It went on that way until we got back up to fourteen again, and then all of the way to thirty.By the time it ended I was nothing but a sweaty lump draped over that saw horse. I was so worn out that I couldn't use my legs to take any weigh off my abdomen. My entire body was shiny and slippery from all the sweat that had collected on it, and my face had tears all over it from the sobbing I had done during the later part of the punishment.At this point I assumed it was all over. To be honest I was so worn out I don't think I really even cared anymore. However. After about 2 hrs., I stopped at a truckstop to get a coffee and some gas. As I turned in, I noticed an older man sitting on the grass by the road. He was obviously wanting a ride. He looked at me as I noticed him. After exiting the store, the man started walking towards my car. As I was ready to get in, the man, very politely, asked if he could hitch a ride. At first, I was a bit hesitant, but after he told me about himself returning to his hometown for some business, he seemed quite safe and I could use some company. We started out talking about our lives and hardships and our present situation. He mentioned he had no transportation to get around outside of his present residence. He kept on saying how thankful he was that I gave him a lift. One thing I did notice was that he seemed a bit feminine, not that I minded at all. He asked if he could keep riding with me until I stopped for the night, and if he could share the cost of a room. I said that was just fine but only if I paid.
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The passenger trains that run a couple of times each week between two metropolises hundreds of kilometres apart, no longer stop there unless a special request is made by someone wanting to alight from or get on the train. I had made my ‘special request. ‘ I was on my way to spend a week with Aunt Hannah. She was not really my aunt, but a woman who, newly wed, had moved into the house next door to us when I was about ten or eleven years old. She was young, lively, very friendly, and she and my mother soon became bosom pals. No pun is intended, and although on first knowing her I did not appreciate it, Hannah really does have delightful mammary glands but, as I say, I was not fully aware of that that until I reached the years of the tumultuous hormones. During those years I came to appreciate a good deal more about Hannah’s than her bosom. She was indeed, and still is, a very attractive woman, but my early interest in her focused on the birthday and Christmas presents I received from.

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