Simon: "Randolph Scott never had this problem."
"I'm going to keep this up until you promise to shave off that ridiculous moustache."
Ronnie: Nobody steals my pie and gets away with it.
Anon 1: You leave my sheep alone, go into town and pay for it like the other men.
Anon 2: Ma had seen the Shorty eyeing her cake through the window, so when she caught him red-handed, she decided she needed to teach him a lesson by making him red-bottomed, as well. After Ma finished walloping the errant cowpoke, he threatened to tell Pa what had happened, but Ma told him he’d better be careful because she was the real boss on the ranch and he didn’t want to get on her bad side.
Shorty apologized profusely and slunk off, knowing he’d have to ride the range for the rest of the afternoon while sitting on his blistered backside. That afternoon, the cattle got loose because Shorty left his post to sit in the stream because he needed to “cool” down. When Pa found out what had happened, and that this was not the first time Ma had overstepped her authority with the ranch hands, he was furious.
That evening, the ranch hands watched with delight as Pa, brandishing the bath brush, led a recalcitrant Ma to the barn. Once inside, he draped his naughty, full-figured bride of 42 years over his lap, raised her dress, lowered her bloomers, and vigorously applied that bath brush to her very ample bare bottom.
Soon the night air was filled with the sounds of smacks, wails and blubbering as Pa let Ma know, in no uncertain terms, who the real boss on this ranch was, and that she was neither too old nor too big for him to put her over his knee and give her a sound spanking whenever she ever needed to be reminded of that fact.
Anon 3: She'd told him he could drop the cake now and leave, or she'd give him a swat for every bite he took. He left a while later with a very sore butt, a very full stomach and a wide grin on his face, telling her that her cooking was so good it had been worth every smack, and that he'd be back again the next time she decided to do some baking.
Anon 4: She'd warned her husband about what would happen the next time she caught him swiping her baked goods, so when she saw him leaning in the window to grab a piece of the cake she'd set there knowing he'd be unable to resist it, she gleefully took the opportunity to follow through on her threat and walloped the daylights out of him, despite his admonition about what he'd do once he got free. Even though she knew she'd pay for her actions later when she'd find herself wiggling and squirming on her husband's lap while he used that same bath brush to set her big, round bare bottom on fire, she took great satisfaction in knowing that he'd be sitting very uncomfortably the whole time.
Sweetspot: Fortunately Mrs. Tucker always kept a bath brush handy for situations such as this.
Fresh cake and a spanking, all in all a good day for Loco McNeil.
Old Bullet Head Bixby had fallen into the trap after all and now it was time for Miss. Ruby's sweet revenge.
The Widow Jones smiled broadly and thought to herself, "Country livin' is simply the best, the entertainment just never ends."
"All right Tumbleweed, now it's my turn to go through the window, so get your shiny butt out here and grab this brush."
"What's you fussing about Kid the last fella I caught stealing my baked goods got it with the buggy whip and he didn't holler half this much."
"Dag nabbit husband I'm going to bust your ass good because here you go spoiling your supper after I've gone to all the trouble of preparing your favorite meal - Soupe de poission, bouletter d'avesnes, followed by tarte tatin served with le quignon finished off with chouquettes and washed down with a glass of fine Bordeaux perhaps Chateau Mouton Rothschld."
Anon 5: Martha and Henry had been married a long time. Their marriage was good, but Martha knew something was missing — something Henry needed to do but hadn’t done for over twenty years — she just didn’t know how to approach him about it. When she saw him leaning in the window to steal a piece of her freshly baked cake, she saw an opportunity, so she grabbed the bath brush and gave him a couple of playful whacks. Henry protested, but didn’t respond the way she wanted, so she whacked him a few more times. This time he vowed that if she kept it up, he’d put her over his knee and use that bath brush to give her a long overdue spanking. That was exactly what Martha wanted to hear. She told him he "wouldn’t dare" and exclaimed that she was "much too old for such nonsense," then she whacked him again.
Henry bellowed that he’d had enough of her shenanigans as he bowed up and extricated himself from the window. Martha knew she might have pushed things too far, so she dropped the brush and made a beeline for the front door, but Henry was quicker. He snatched up the brush, grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her over to the rocking chair. Then, right there on the porch, where anyone passing by could see, he pulled her across his lap, lifted her skirt and pulled down her panties. As he unveiled her large, sumptuous bottom, Henry felt something stirring that had been dormant for quite some time. Martha felt it, too, and did her best to encourage his arousal by seductively wiggling her bottom and squirming around on his lap.
Henry was momentarily mesmerized by Martha’s plump, jiggling white globes, and as his excitement grew, was tempted to let her up and take her to the bedroom, but then he thought about the increasingly bratty behavior she’d been exhibiting lately, and he remembered what his father had told him about dealing with a naughty wife, that sometimes you have to “put business before pleasure.” Henry steeled his resolve, raised the bath brush and brought it down on Martha’s upturned bottom with a resounding smack that echoed across the valley. Martha bucked, kicked and let out a piercing howl. Henry delivered a second hard smack to the same spot, with the same result, and Martha realized, too late, that Henry was not going to give her the playful paddling she’d hoped for, but the serious spanking she desperately needed and secretly craved. Henry kept the smacks coming fast and furious until Martha’s heartfelt squalls led him to believe she had learned her lesson, at least for the moment.
When Henry was finished, he let a sobbing Martha get up from his lap, then he ordered her to go up to the bedroom, strip naked, and stand in the corner with her hands on her head and her crimson bottom on display until he told her otherwise. As Martha turned to go, Henry leaned in, gave her a passionate kiss on her neck, and whispered in her ear what he intended to with her once he joined her in the bedroom. Martha’s face turned as red and hot as her bottom. Henry, satisfied that Martha was at least as worked up as he was, pushed her toward the door and gave her a sharp smack on her still exposed rear end that sent her bounding up the stairs like a giddy bride on her wedding night.
Henry went to put the bath brush back on its hook, but decided it should be displayed in a prominent place in their bedroom where it would serve as a constant reminder for Martha to be on her best behavior, and would be readily available when she wasn’t. Besides, he was certain he could conjure up a reason to attend to his naughty wife’s long neglected bottom again before the night was through. Martha had removed her clothes and was examining her blistered behind in the mirror when she heard Henry start up the steps. She jumped into the corner, winced as she gave her overheated bottom one last rueful rub, placed her hands on her head, and as Henry entered the room and began stripping down, thought how thankful she was that things were once again as they should be … and all because of a stolen piece of cake.
Anon 6: "You still smell like a herd of cattle. "You are going to wish you'd gotten into the stock tank with some soap and this brush."
Hermione: This happens every time I leave the window open. Good thing I have my cowboy swatter.
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