She was caught! Well and truly caught! And there was no escaping or evading the consequences, whatever they might be!  MJ tried her best once again to wiggle free, but the boxes had her pinned in a most embarrassing position!

“Now what do we have here?” a deep voice MJ recognized only too well spoke from right behind her.  “It looks like you are in a predicament.”

“Just get me out of here, Oliver Clinton!”

“What?  And spoil the view?” he asked with a menacing chuckle.

“Stop looking at my… my… my sit upon!”  It was absolutely mortifying to have her worst enemy standing right behind her looking at her bottom, especially since she was wearing her oldest pair of jeans!  They were tight across her backside, and she knew she was giving him a show!

“Your sit upon is very nice to look at, especially when you wiggle like that.”

“If you were a gentleman, Oliver Clinton, you would help me!”

“I thought we established a long time ago that I am not a gentleman, and help you?  I find you snooping in my office and I should help you?” His voice was full of the disdain he felt for her.

“Office?  You call this dilapidated, rundown shed an ‘office’?” She ridiculed him.  “I think you should take a lighted match to the place!”

“I think I should spank you,” he announced in his deep voice.

“You wouldn’t!” Her voice was full of shock and indignation.

“I think you know that I would, Martha Jean,” he answered calmly.

Oh yes, she knew that he would.  Her mind immediately traveled back in time:

“I ought to tan your britches, Martha Jean Whitmore!”

“You just try it and I’ll give you what for!  And don’t you be calling me Martha Jean.  I prefer MJ, if you must talk to me at all!”

“Why are you so darn sassy all the time, Martha Jean?  I’ve never done anything to you, and you just dumped a shovel full of cow dung inside my new truck.  That calls for a spanking, and if it was the other way around you’d be out for blood.”

“Humph!  You’re a Clinton, through and through!  You probably stole the money for that truck!”

“I worked summers and weekends for the last three years to be able to afford that truck, Martha Jean, and you are going to clean out that mess you made and then you are going to make sure the truck smells new again, and looks it, too.”

“I most certainly will not!”  MJ grabbed for her shovel so she could march herself on home, but Oliver was too quick for her.  He took advantage of her lowered vision so he could tackle her and bring her to the ground.  She landed with an umph, and immediately started to struggle with him, trying to free herself.  “Let me go, Oliver Clinton!” she angrily demanded, raising her arm and swinging her balled fist in his direction.

Oliver ducked, grabbed for her flailing arm, and pinned it to her back.  “Yes, Martha Jean, you need a sound spanking, and then you’ll be happy to clean out my truck,” he predicted.

“Never!” she defiantly declared. “You’re a Clinton, and up to no good like your Pa and his Pa and his Pa!” she accused.

“At least we aren’t like you Whitmores, thinking you’re better than everyone else, and going around snooping and prying into folks’ business!”  Oliver was hot under the collar now and his palm itched to make contact with the feisty redhead’s curvy bottom.

“Someone has to keep an eye on you Clintons or you’d rob the county blind!” she said, hurling the words at him like a weapon.

“What has my buying a new truck got to do with robbing folks?” he demanded of her, clearly exasperated.

“You have to have something to haul your ill-gotten goods in, don’t you?  And you got a black truck so it blends in with the night!” she accused, positive she’d scored a point.  In the next moment a sharp pain exploded on her right buttock and she yelped.  Oliver Clinton struck her!  Before she could wriggle out of his grasp, his hand smacked her left cheek just as hard.  “You better stop this, Oliver Clinton, or my Daddy is going to shoot you!”

“Then I guess I’d best make sure this spanking is worth getting shot!” he calmly announced.

MJ alternately scolded and pleaded with Oliver, but he didn’t release her until she was sobbing from the scorching he gave her poor bottom.  It was a terrible spanking and she regretted making the long walk over to his house with her Daddy’s new shovel filled with smelly cow manure.

He’d made her clean out his truck, too, and the prank lost every bit of its satisfaction. And now, ten years later, he’d caught her again, and this time she was in a most undignified position.  MJ was caught effectively by the boxes that fell on her while she was looking for the information she needed to have Oliver Clinton arrested for whatever it was he was doing wrong.  He didn’t come home for no reason; Clintons were as dishonest as the day was long.  “Get me out of here, Oliver Clinton!”

“Not until you tell me what you are looking for.”

“It’s none of your business!” she answered. 

“You are in my office, snooping through my boxes, and it is none of my business…?!!  Maybe the Sheriff will see it differently…?”

“You wouldn’t dare call the Sheriff.  He’d put you behind bars.”

“Put me behind bars?  Lady, are you plumb loco?  You are the one trespassing, breaking and entering, and snooping through my belongings!”

“The Sheriff knows me and he knows that I have the county’s interests at heart.  It’s you he’ll be mad at.  You’d best let me go now.  Get these boxes off of me, Oliver!”

Instead of a reply MJ felt a burning smack across her bottom!  Oliver Clinton actually struck her backside!  “No, Oliver!  Don’t you dare!  I’m not a little kid anymore, and I was too old for a spanking the last time you accosted me!”

“No, you aren’t a kid, and that is why I find this snooping around to be particularly in need of a good spanking.  Breaking and entering is against the law, Martha Jean.”  He punctuated his words with another solid spank.  “If I were to call the Sheriff, you would go to jail.  I am of the opinion that this method of punishment will have more of an affect than sitting in a cell until Daddy bails you out and tells you how innocent you are.  And, I’ll find it a lot more satisfying,” he admitted.  Again, his large hand spanked her bottom, leaving a scalding handprint on her left cheek.

“Stop this immediately!  I’m going to have you arrested for assault, Oliver Clinton!”  She thought the threat was a good one and would surely bring about her release, but instead it seemed to spur him on.  The spanking continued, each smack adding to the inferno that was her bottom cheeks.  Once she was in tears and positive she couldn’t take any more, he started spanking her upper thighs!  It hurt much more than her bottom, if that was possible.  She pleaded with him to stop, but all he did was target the area between her cheeks and her thighs.  Her sit spots were always very sensitive, but now they seemed to scream with each successive spank.  “Stop, Oliver!  I’m begging you… Stop!  I’m sorry!  I’m sorry!”

Oliver heard the remorse in her words and stopped.  She’d had enough by now.  He carefully lifted the boxes that had her trapped facedown over a couple of other boxes he had stacked.  Unpacking was a chore, and it would have to wait until he spent some money fixing up the building that was almost beyond saving.  Once the boxes were out of the way he lifted Martha Jean by her tiny waist and put her on her feet in front of him.  Once he saw the state of her face, he reached into his pocket and handed her his clean handkerchief.  “Wipe your eyes and blow your nose,” he gruffly ordered, telling himself he was not going to feel guilty for giving her a firm lesson. 

“You are a beast!” she accused, dabbing at her red rimmed, tear filled green eyes. 

“You are a handful, Martha Jean.  You always were, and it is a damn shame that the men in these parts are too scared of you and that Daddy of yours to take you in hand when you get on your high horse.  Pull yourself together and I’ll take you home.”

“No!”

“You are in no shape to walk. You’re too emotional.”

“That is your fault!”

“No, it is your fault for snooping, and if you haven’t figured that out yet then I didn’t spank you long enough or hard enough.”

“Don’t you stay that!  I am in terrible pain!”

“It’s better than going to jail.”

“How would you know?  I ought to call the Sheriff and let him lock you away.” 

“Now, it would almost be worth getting arrested to see pictures of your bare fanny passed all over the courtroom; I’m sure the jurors would love to see your red bottom.”

“What do you mean?” she demanded.

“Well, Martha Jean, you must know that your backside would be the only evidence you would have that you were spanked…?  They’d have you drop your jeans and panties and take pictures of your bare butt… and of course the lawyers would have copies; so would the judge, and the jury would ask to see them, too.”

“Don’t call me Martha Jean!  And that is just so… wrong!”  MJ burst into tears.  “Why are you always so hateful?” she asked, covering her face with her hands.  She was embarrassed to death, and in terrible pain!  He’d given her the worst spanking of her life.

Oliver did what came naturally and pulled her into his arms.  MJ resisted a bit, but she needed comforting, even if it was her nemesis offering the comfort.  She cried against his shirt, soaking it with her tears.  Oliver didn’t mind.  Holding Martha Jean in his arms was a fantasy of his, one he indulged in when it was dark out at night and he was all alone and wishing he wasn’t.  He’d loved little Martha Jane since they were young kids, but she was a Whitmore and he was a Clinton, and they were expected to hate each other.  Both their Pa’s did a good job of filling their heads with the same lies they’d been told when they were just mere boys.  Why their grandfathers hated each other so much depended on which side of the story you listened to.  Privately, Oliver suspected that there was a woman involved.  There usually was…

“Don’t cry, Martha Jean.  It’s all over now, and I wouldn’t let anyone near you with a camera, even if it meant pleading guilty and going to jail.”

“Do you mean that, Oliver?” she asked.

“I sure do,” he gallantly professed.

“Then you just remember that when the Sheriff comes to haul you in!” she raged, kicking him on the shin, and then taking off for home at a dead run.

Oliver jumped on one leg, holding his injured leg in his hand.  “You’d better run, Martha Jean!” he yelled after her.  “The next time I see you I’m going to wear out my hand on your bare backside!” he promised, nursing his poor leg. 

MJ heard the threat and ran even faster.  Spanking her again was just the sort of despicable thing that Oliver Clinton would do, too!  The next time she would wait until he went away in his fancy car before she searched his office for evidence that he was a criminal.  She wasn’t about to allow him to cheat the people around the county of their hard earned money!  MJ didn’t stop running until she was safely inside her home.

“That you, Marthy?” her Dad called out.  He was in his study, working.  He was a Fenton County Commissioner as well as a farmer, and there was a lot of paperwork to do for each job.

“Yes, Daddy,” she answered breathlessly, leaning against the door.

“You look like someone’s been chasing you,” Henry Whitmore stated as he looked at his daughter from the doorway of his home office.  “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong is that Oliver Clinton is back, living on his parents’ farm, and up to no good!” she righteously declared.

“That again!” Henry frowned in disapproval.  “Honey, you need to stop worrying about that boy.”

“Someone needs to worry about him!  He’s a Clinton, isn’t he?”

“All the more reason to stay away from him.  If he’s up to no good, we’ll know about it soon enough.”

“He’s up to no good, alright.  All I need is proof and I’ll get it.”

“You can’t go snooping around the Clinton place, honey.  You’ll get yourself in trouble.”  Henry had no idea how close he was to the truth.

“I want him arrested and put in jail!”

Henry took a closer look at his daughter, then asked, “You went over there and got yourself into trouble, didn’t you?  What did you do, take another shovel full of cow manure and put it into Clinton’s flashy new car?” he asked.

“I think I’ve grown up a bit since I did that, Daddy!” MJ was offended.

“So, what equally mature thing did you do, Marthy, and don’t tell me ‘nothing’.  I know you better than that.”

“I went looking for proof.  Oliver was gone, and I didn’t think he’d be back so soon.  I figured the logical place to start was his office.  He’s using that beat up old shack on the property for an office,” she explained.  He hasn’t unpacked anything, and a bunch of boxes fell on me, trapping me.  I couldn’t get free, and he came back and caught me there.  Instead of acting like a gentleman and helping me, he was a beast and he…”

“Gave you another licking?” Henry asked knowingly.  Young Clinton was the one who told him that he’d spanked Martha Jean for putting the manure in his new truck, and asked him point blank if he had a problem with his way of dealing with the incident.  Henry told his girl back then that she’d earned what she got and he was tempted to deal her the same.  Ten years later, she was still acting like a brat in need of taming, and the one man who just might be her match happened to be a Clinton!  His own Pa would be spinning in his grave at the idea of a Whitmore taking up with a Clinton, but Henry’s distrust of the Clinton’s didn’t go as far as Martha Jean’s.  His Pa had filled her head with Whitmore/Clinton nonsense since she was born, the same as he did him, and she took it all to heart.

“Yes, he did!  I want him arrested for assault!”

“You want the Sheriff to take pictures of your bare hind?” Henry scoffed.  “I’m sure he and all the boys at the courthouse would get a real kick out of that.  Besides, you were in the wrong, Marthy.  You went where you shouldn’t have been, and you got a licking for it.  I’d say you learned a lesson.  Oliver Clinton isn’t going to let you terrorize him like the rest of the men around here do.”

“That’s not true, Daddy!” she argued, angry with him.

“Yes it is.  The men you date are wimps.”

“In case you didn’t know it, Daddy, ‘Neanderthal’ is out of style these days.”

“Respect is never out of style, but I don’t see much of it these days.  Men don’t act like men, and women have forgotten how to be ladies.  There’s nothing wrong with a man being a man and taking charge of his home.  A good man will make sure his lady feels loved, cherished, protected, and he will cater to her wishes as much as he can.  That don’t include buying new this and that because the neighbor has it.  Young people think that equality is the answer, but that equality is fine in the work place.  It don’t work at home.”

“What makes you so sure of that, Daddy?” MJ was as exasperated with her parent as he was with her.  He was supposed to be mad as hell and making threats to tear Oliver Clinton apart with his bare hands!  Instead, he was acting as though he approved of Oliver spanking her!

“The divorce rate.”  He was positive he’d settled the matter.  “Now you listen to me, young lady,” he said firmly, shaking a finger at her as he always did when he was quite serious.  “If you go over to the Clinton place to snoop around again, I’m not going to be happy with you.  And, if I have to bail you out of jail for trespassing, or for vandalizing,” he added, remembering the way she treated Oliver’s new truck, “I will forget you are twenty-four years old and considered an adult and turn you over my knee and paddle you.  If you think I’m bluffing, you just go right ahead and test me, and you’ll learn that I know right where to lay my hands on that paddle.  It might not hang on the wall any more, but it’s right close and handy.”

“Daddy, you wouldn’t spank me and you know it!”  MJ’s face was beet red as she faced her parent.

“Yes, honey, I would,” he said solemnly.  “I wouldn’t enjoy it, but I am still your Daddy, and if you need a spanking, you’ll get one you’ll wish you didn’t get, and that is a promise.  Now, how about you go and see to fixing us some dinner…?  I’m hungry and lunch was forever ago.  I’ll give you a hand,” he offered, trying to make peace with his hotheaded daughter.

“I can’t believe you are taking a Clinton’s side!”  MJ was disappointed that she seemed to be the only one who was concerned about Oliver’s return to Fenton County!