Verse 3: To Wed Anyway

Sweet violets, sweeter than all the roses,
Running all over from head to toe,
Covered all over with sweet violets.

They spent time together in the next two weeks. He taught her about gardens and showed her how he kept the farm. They even spent time in the kitchen, where he guided her through some simple meals, and taught her how to use the spices they picked from the garden. But her favorite times were spent sitting on old swing on the porch, watching the farm and watching the sun.

One evening, Michelle asked a question which had bothered her. "Don't you want me? Don't you want to fuck me? Every boy I have ever dated has tried to get into my panties and put his dick into me."

John just chuckled for a few minutes, then took her hand and squeezed it warmly. "I already got into your panties. You are very beautiful, and any man who did not want to make love with you would be crazy or dead." He pulled her hand to stretch her arm, and laid her fingers on the front of his pants.

There was an unmistakable bulge where her hand lay. "I want to make love with you, certainly. But you told me that you had promised your father that you would remain a virgin. I want to help you keep that promise. I want you to trust me completely; and I want to be able to trust you the same way."

"But you make me so horny! I almost can't stand it. I want you. That is why I let you take my clothes off and touch me. It feels so wonderful that I don't want you to stop. But you stop anyway! And that makes me crazy!"

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course."

"Then trust that the waiting will be worth the effort. You will love me even more when we finally are together that way. It is hard for me to wait, as well. But that is why I want to marry you as soon as I can." He lifted her hand and kissed each of her fingers. "Would you like me to help you relax? I can take some of those frustrations away."

There was a deep sigh from Michelle. "I do trust you. And I believe you. I will wait, if you say I should. Just know that if you told me to take off my clothes right now and make love with you on the porch, I would not hesitate for a second; I want you that much."

"Wanting is good; trusting is better; and loving is best of all. I want you. I want to trust you, but we need to know each other better to build that trust. So -- we have to wait, at least a little. Then, we will have all three."

This time, she pulled his hand to her and kissed his palm. Then, she placed his warm hand between her legs and whispered, "I trust you. Just remember how you made me wait and don't make it too long -- please?"

The farmer decided he'd wed anyway
And started in planning for his wedding...

"Day will be here soon. This is Wednesday and the ceremony is on Saturday." John had invited Michelle over for supper.

As soon as she stepped into the small kitchen, her nose lifted and she inhaled something wonderful.

"Can you smell that bread? I think it will be fabulous when it finally finishes."

"I smell it. But what's making that incredible aroma? It is more than just bread, because the smell is making my stomach growl."

"I put in some fresh herbs from the garden. Maybe after the wedding, I will let you in on my cooking secrets." John smiled, then changed the subject. "Look, I need to go out and check on the livestock. It shouldn't take more than ten minutes." The tone of his voice changed. "Stir this pot. If you don't stir it, the rice will stick and burn."

Michelle heard him, but she was busy worrying about Saturday. She was supposed to get married and she hadn't bought a dress. Instead, she had stopped at the jewelry store and bought a diamond tennis bracelet that Daddy had refused to buy for her. Well, she could slip one of Daddy's credit cards from his wallet when he got home and shop tomorrow. Or, she could skip the wedding and say she changed her mind. Her worry lessened.

Suddenly, her nose was filled with the bitter aroma of burned rice. She had been thinking so hard about Saturday and her wedding gown that she had forgotten to stir the rice and it had burned. Well, so what? She didn't really need rice anyway; the meal would be just fine without it. Michelle turned off the pot and sat down again.

Of course the house was filled with the acrid smell. John knew immediately when he stepped onto the porch, before he even entered the kitchen, that she had not stirred the rice and it had burned. His face formed a lupine smile, which he quickly hid behind his normal, calm exterior.

"Did you stir the rice? I think I smell it burning." He greeted her when he walked up to the small table where they were going to eat.

"The pot must be bad. I stirred it, but it burned anyway."

"Did I tell you to stir it?"

She nodded, meekly.

"But you didn't stir it, did you?" Now she could see his anger. "If you had stirred it, you could have seen and smelled the rice long before it burned; you could have turned the fire off or moved the pot. So you also lied to me." His words were almost a roar. "Didn't you?"

By this point, Michelle was afraid, and crying. "I forgot to stir it. I'm sorry!"

"Come here." It was a growl, but she recognized the words and the anger.

Standing, she walked until she was just out of arms' reach from him.

His strong fingers pinched the top rung of a kitchen chair and pulled the piece of furniture to him. He seated himself and growled again. "You lied and disobeyed an order. You will be punished."

Before she could react, he had one hand behind her and a second was popping the snap on her jeans. She could not escape the strength of the hand holding her bottom. Michelle watched as the other hand slipped her zipper down, then felt him pulling her pants down her legs.

Now she was helpless. With her pants part way down her legs, she could not run, not even walk. A small tug and she toppled face down onto his lap. Her legs hung uselessly off of one side, her breasts just past his thighs on the other side. The weight of her shoulders and head made movement difficult, but she tried.

The first blow was a surprise; Michelle screamed. She knew that her panties had come down with her jeans and her butt was naked to his spanking. Swinging her arms wildly, she tried to hit him and stop this farce -- she was twenty-four, after all, and too old to be spanked. Besides, it hurt!

His spare hand grabbed first one, then the other of her flailing wrists and pinned them to her back. The pressure kept her even more securely in place as the spanking continued. The screams wore out quickly, then turned to moans of pain. Ten, twenty, thirty, Michelle had lost count when the blows stopped. Slowly, her sobbing died down as well. But the pain! The bruises were just beginning to form.

"You may not believe me, but I love you."

Other than sobs, Michelle did not reply.

"On a farm, there are many dangers. An untamed or hurting animal can damage you permanently. A snake might be poisonous and ready to strike. Machinery can remove entire limbs in less than a second. When I give an order, you need to obey it -- instantly." His hand gently stroked her butt -- it was turning bright red and would be black and blue tomorrow. By Saturday, she should be able to walk, but maybe not sit comfortably.

"This was a test, and a training. If you had stirred the rice, I would know I could trust you with more important things. If you forgot, I hoped I would be able to train you before you died from a snakebite or from a cow kicking you." His hand continued caressing her bare butt; the pain did not go away, but the touch was somehow soothing.

"From now on, you will know that when I give an order, you must obey it. If you do not, you will be spanked on your bare bottom like a little child. Soon, you will know that obeying orders can be a good thing and the spankings will stop. For now, you will need to eat standing."

Shock filled her. "How dare he? Spanking her as if she were some child. She would cancel the wedding and call the police -- he could be arrested for assault and battery, right?"

Then she calmed down and listened to his words. He loved her. He loved her? Michelle had never considered battery to be an act of love, but if you loved someone and did not want them seriously hurt, was it possible? She did not know. Unable to think, she let the tears run down her cheeks and realized that there was snot running from her nose. She hurt, her butt was hot; but her heart was warmed, as well -- he loved her!

His warm, powerful arms surrounded her and lifted her. He carried her to the bedroom and carefully placed her stomach-down on the bed. There was a wet cloth to clean her face and soothing gel spread on her sore bum, it smelled like his mint. Like a little child, he held and soothed her, eventually the crying stopped and she just sighed.

"You will probably prefer to leave those pants off and to stand, but it is time for dinner. Come and eat." He left her in the bed and went out to the kitchen.

A few minutes later, Michelle walked gingerly into the kitchen, with a sheet wrapped around her, but clearly with nothing on below her waist. Her face had been washed, but she still looked pained.

"Are you hungry?" He asked her, softly.

"The smell of that bread is driving me crazy. May I please have some of that?"

"Of course. Is there anything else you would like?"

"Everything but the rice. And, ... I'm sorry."

He rose and served a plateful of aromatic food and topped it with a slice of fresh, warm, buttered bread. It was placed on the counter, which was higher than the table, but would allow them to talk while they ate. Then he leaned down and kissed her cheek before turning to get his own food.

Thoughtfully, she looked at him, bit off a corner of the bread, and closed her eyes in pleasure at the taste. "This is the absolute best bread I have ever eaten. What do I have to do to get the recipe?"

When her eyes opened again, he was smiling. "After the wedding, you will know all my secrets."

The tears threatened to overflow again, but she held them back. She was thinking as she chewed. When her mouth was empty, she voiced her thoughts: "No one ever loved me enough to spank me before."

John leaped up next to her, hugging her, but careful not to touch her tender backside. "Your parents love you, they just did not know how to be parents."

They both ate standing: Michelle because she could not sit, and John to be next to her.

his wedding
Suit which he purchased for only one buck,
And then he found out he was just out of...

"Luck. I need some real luck right now. I didn't think she would wait until yesterday to disobey me. Now she will probably still be angry on Saturday and will want to cancel the wedding." John was pacing on the porch as he thought about the problem. "Well, I still need a suit to get married in. Where can I get a suit today?"

A quick trip into the bedroom allowed John to haul out a suit from the closet. It was clearly old -- years out of date. It smelled of mothballs. It was threadbare in places. But it would fit him, mostly. This suit had been his father's, and had been worn first at the wedding of his father and mother. during the years between then and now, the suit had been worn many times and clearly showed the wear. John smiled. "I'll tell her I'm wearing this suit, if she asks. I can say I found it at the thrift store and it cost me a whole dollar. After spending three thousand dollars for her outfit, I needed to save a little money on my suit."

He lovingly carried the suit out to his truck and drove over to the Anthropes' house to show it to her. Michelle looked horrified. But there was something else -- something deeper. John hoped it was the luck he needed and that everything would work out for the wedding. In spite of her shock at the ancient, musty suit he had told her was for their wedding, she stepped into his arms and kissed him when he left.

After he left her house, John stopped by the Men's Store in town and picked up the suit he had ordered and had tailored more than a week before. He was ready -- was she?

After he left her house, Michelle ran into her room and slammed the door. From one desk drawer, she extracted the diamond tennis bracelet she had bought with the money John had given her. From another drawer, she pulled the paper she had signed, promising to spend the money on her wedding outfit. There was no way she could get an outfit before Saturday, even if she had the money, which she didn't. Her Daddy had been keeping his credit cards locked up. No one in town could sew a dress for her, even if they wanted to. And most would not have wanted to, because of the way she had treated them in the past. The jeweler had already told her that the dazzling bracelet could not be returned because she had asked for her initials to be engraved on the clasp. And the engraving had brought the price up to almost exactly three thousand dollars -- there was less than a dollar left, not even enough to buy a thrift shop dress to match his suit.

Sitting, carefully, on the edge of her bed, she thought. The way her thoughts drifted surprised her; they would have surprised her parents even more. She remembered all of the hours they had spent at work in the garden and how her muscles had ached. There were lessons in washing clothes, which she hated, but she felt good afterwards because she had learned to do something which was unknown to her before. He had showed her how to keep the house clean and then made sure that she practiced until it became a good habit.

They had cooked together, and eaten together of the results -- some good, some not so good -- and he had complimented her when she did well. She had even helped with the harder chores on the farm, including cleaning horse and cow poop out of the stalls and feeding the animals the sweet smelling hay. She had worked -- hard, she now realized -- and was about to lose the thing she had worked for. She would lose the sunsets and sunrises, the sitting together on the porch swing, and the wonderful smells of the farm. Michelle had found the man she loved: a man who would kiss her when she was covered in mud; a man who would spank her when she would learn in no other way; a man who would want her and make her want him, and get them both naked in the most sensuous surroundings she could imagine, but could make them both wait because it was right. She would apologize and ask for his forgiveness -- probably that would be far too little and he would reject her in front of the town at her wedding -- but she would try. That was the right thing to do, and he had taught her as well, to do the right thing, even when it was hard.

After realizing the changes he had made to her, she remembered how she had been before that first invitation to see the farm. There were people -- dozens, no hundreds of people -- who she had been rude to, she had insulted, she had ignored. Michelle had felt herself better than them because Daddy had money to spend on her, and she had treated so many as if they were inimportant. Even if he refused to marry her, she had changed, and she could not leave so many others without apologizing to them as well.

Sighing, Michelle pulled out a stack of pale pink paper with a fancy border of tiny rosebuds. It had been especially ordered for her and was her 'signature' note paper. She began writing note after note on the paper, checking from time to time against the names on the list of invitations and looking for other names in her high school yearbook. The notes all went something like this:

Dear Sue: I am writing to apologize to you for all the rude things I did when we went to school together; I am learning how wrong I was and need to ask for your forgiveness. Even if you can't forgive me, this note should serve as an invitation to my public humiliation on Saturday at my wedding. If you want some payback for all the wrongs I handed you, be at the church at 1 p.m. on Saturday, where you will get to watch the entire town laugh at me and probably see my fiancee dump me at the altar. I regret the times I taunted or embarrassed you and offer you a chance to get even. With regret, Michelle