My lungs stung as we hiked up the narrow path. Inclines are not my thing, but of course, Gayle has no problem. I know Gayle was getting more aggravated every time I asked to take a break, but I was past caring at this point. I am not a hiker, and she knows it. I only came along because she wouldn’t stop nagging me; she thinks I’ll learn to like it if I keep doing it. Well, that’s never going to happen.
Yesterday when she told me about a mile and a half hike that ended at a waterfall. She never mentions the elevation gain of a mile and a half in just over one thousand feet. Right now, I feel like I smoke two packs a day, and I don’t even smoke. She’s almost beyond my sight, so I move a little slower. I want her to keep going and leave me here. A few minutes pass, and I hear her calling my name; quickly, without thinking, I slip behind a boulder. Her voice is getting louder, so I know she is close; I step further back and catch my foot on a tree root.
Unfortunately, the tree is fine, but my ankle snaps. Pain shoots up my leg as I fall, scraping my palms in the process. I’m pretty sure my screams are what brought Gayle and the others to my side. A minute ago, I was hiding from my girlfriend, and now I need her desperately. At my side, Gayle asks, “Kinsley, what in the world are you doing? Why are you off the trail?” as she spits out each question, her hands are checking for injuries. “It looks like you sprained your ankle; there might even be a break.” then, to herself, she said. “we need X-rays.” that has me whimpering.
One of the backpackers volunteered to carry me down the trail, but of course, Gayle wouldn’t let anyone else do it. After she explained to me how she planned to take me down the mountain piggyback, she said. “Once we get you checked out at the emergency room, we are going to have a long talk.” The look she fixed me with almost scared the pain away. “Yes, I know you were hiding from me.”
Oh, Dang, I’m in so much trouble. I couldn’t even offer a response that would be anywhere near believable. So I sat and waited for instructions; Gayle helped me stand, and I hobbled over to the trail with her help, of course. Gayle’s transferred her pack to me to carry on my back. Then she scrunched down for me to climb up. She held my legs, and I had my arms around her neck. But the way down was painful; Every step brought a fresh jolt of pain shooting up my leg along with the constant throbbing. By the time we made it to our car, tears had poured from my eyes, and Gayle was exhausted.
She held me close until I calmed then helped me into the passenger seat. It took us forty minutes to get to the emergency room, and by the time we got there, my ankle doubled in size. I held on to the trash bin most of the way because the pain was so bad I felt nauseous. After parking, Gayle raced in for a wheelchair and then had to lift me out of the car. She filled out the paperwork, talked to the check-in nurse, took care of everything while I moaned in pain. Then finally, after an hour and thirty minutes, I was more than ready to see the doctor.
Gayle let me hold her hand in a tight grip. She knows how scared I am in the ER, having been sent to the emergency by my ex several times. But when it comes time to get X-rays, and I won’t let go, she threatens to put me over her knee. Instantly my face flushes because the orderly can hear every word. They wheeled me out of the room without a fuss or a sore bottom. Either the pain eased slightly, or I was learning to tolerate it, but the x-ray wasn’t too bad, or maybe it was the pill I just swallowed. Well, I don’t need surgery, but I have to wear a boot and use crutches; before releasing me, the nurse recites the dos and don’ts. The pain killer they gave me earlier has kicked in; I’m not worried because I’m sure Gayle is listening.
With Gayles’s help, I’m in the house sitting on the couch, leg elevated. In a daze, I watch as she fusses, getting ice for my leg, a pillow, blanket, and water for me. Pretty soon, my eyes close, and I’m out; the day has finally done me in. My bladder insists I get up when I wake, but my leg is throbbing, and I can’t see my crutches. I panic, “Gayle, help!” My concerned girlfriend comes running, once again, to my rescue. How did I get so lucky?
Two weeks later, the pain in my leg is much better. I’m able to move about using crutches mostly and especially in Gayle”s sight. I still can’t work or drive, but apparently, Gayle thinks I’m well enough for a chat. We haven’t yet discussed me hiding in the first place, and she’s decided I am now well enough. I think I’ve suffered enough, but Gayle’s view is entirely different. On Saturday morning, after we finish breakfast, Gayle instructs me to the corner. On my way, I noticed a chair she placed facing the wall. When I’m seated, she calls over. “Since you can’t stand, I would like you to place your hands on your head. Sit and think, no moving unless your leg gives you pain.”
In the corner, time drags; although my leg is fine, my arms ache. I hold still, hoping to hear Gayle call my name while at the same time dreading her call. I know hiding was dumb, and I have a broken bone as proof, so adding a spanking feels like overkill. “Kinsley!” I hear the sharp tone of Gayle’s voice, which tells me this isn’t the first time she has called. I put my arms down and tried to stand simultaneously, and nearly knocked the chair over in the process. This bit of clumsiness has Gayle rushing over. “Be careful.”
I know she is trying to be helpful, but right now, any act of kindness only annoys me, and I curtly respond. “Ok, ok.”
“Little one you may want to watch your tone. You probably don’t want to add to the already long chat we are about to have.” This speech continues as she escorts me to the couch, and as we reach it, I notice the extra pillows. My annoyance fades once I realize the cushions are to protect my leg. Gayle can be so thoughtful, even when she’s about to blister my butt.
At the couch, Gayle sits and directs me to stand in front of her. My hands remain at my sides as I watch her unfastening my shorts before lowering them along with my panties. This part I find to be so embarrassing, and I know she is intentionally taking her time. I think she enjoys watching the color of my cheeks change as I stand there blushing. Before I know what’s going on, Gayle takes my arm and helps me across her lap, and secures pillows around my ankle.
With a hand resting on my butt, Gayle asks, “Do we need to discuss your behavior?” I quickly answer with a no, ma’am. There is no need to say anything, plus why take a chance to make matters worse. Right away, Gayle’s hand leaves my butt only to come back down sharply. The firestorm of swats is intense, and I can’t help reaching back. Gayle catches my hand and holds it to the small of my back; unfortunately, she swats the backs of my thighs with her other hand. “Little one, you know better. “
I cry out in my defense. “Sorry, I’m sorry. Please, Gayle, it hurts.” my cries continue. Gayle moves her assault back to my sit spots. “Please, stop, Gayle, it, it, owie Gayle.” I can’t keep my legs still; I figure they must not be moving too much, or I would have felt Gayle’s wrath. Eventually, Gayle did stop but only long enough to reach behind her for the leather paddle she had placed there earlier.
At first, when Gayle placed it on my bottom, the leather felt cool. But once I recognized the feeling, I panicked. I struggled to get up and earned myself a real stinger across both cheeks and a reprimand. “Be still! Little one, or we will start over.” right away, I tried to still my body. I know I wasn’t successful, but it must have been enough for Gayle. “Ok Little one, it’s time to finish.”
She may have said more I wouldn’t know; I can only remember pain and heat building from that point on. Gayle yielded the paddle expertly, landing each swat in a new spot until my entire bottom felt like a swarm of bees hit it. It must have been ten minutes later when she finally set the paddle down; I was frantic. “Please! Gayle! Owie!” I lay there just as long, panting and sobbing.
Once my tears turned to hick-ups and sniffles, Gayle helped me up. I stood in front of her, hopping from one foot to the other, rubbing my stinging butt. She gave me a few minutes with my self-pity before handing me a tissue and saying. “Blow your nose, then tell me what lesson you learned today?”
I took the tissue, and as much as I hated this part, I knew I wouldn’t get to cuddle until we got past it, so I babbled on. “Well, I hid from you and put myself in danger. And scared you and hurt me and well I’m sorry. I promise I won’t do it again.”
Gayle stared at me for a minute before she opened her arms to welcome me. “Come here, Little one.” I was so delighted; I practically jumped into her arms then squealed when my bare butt made contact with her scratchy jeans. The love I felt from Gayle overshadowed the burn I felt in my butt. “That’s right; you won’t hide from me again.” then she shocked me by adding. “I also promise to listen better. When you tell me you don’t like something, I’ll try harder to hear what you’re saying. And not assume you like it just because I enjoy it.” Gayle looked into my eyes, and my heart melted; this woman does love me. How did I get so lucky?