The New Mrs Harris (Part 3 of 3)


the new Mrs Harris

Our story begins here.

The next day the ground to the north began to climb and although it remained wide enough, the trail narrowed so that wagons began to fall in behind one another and close up. After the previous day’s ordeal, both girls exchanged horrified glances that seemed to say, “Thank the Lord that we are not exposed today.”

In any event, they had both still been relegated to walking behind as neither could face the prospect of sitting on either the tailgate or the hard driving bench up front.

The previous night had seen much inspection of sore rear-ends and both had taken turns like real sisters applying cold cream to where they needed it most.

“I trust you girls have learned a lesson,” Charlotte had said rather pompously when she saw what they were about.

“Yes ma’am,” both had sang.

Rosaline felt a warm tickle at Charlotte’s sternness, much as she had when her mother was alive. And sharing her punishment with Amelia had been like an adventure and she realised that she had never felt as close to anyone but Pa since her mother had died.

For Amelia the feelings were even more intense. As the day’s incidents played over in her mind she felt some of the strange excitement she had felt when she had first seen Rosaline strapped. Instead of resenting it, she felt an odd sort of longing for something she couldn’t name and when no one was looking she pressed at her bottom and revelled in the stinging ache that still infused it.

Charlotte too felt a comfortable calm that she hadn’t felt since Boston. Mr Harris was certainly in-charge and Amelia responded to him well even if his methods were a little harsh by Eastern standards. She wondered if having fallen in with his leadership he might not call on her again so that she could do her duty. Although part of her felt a little guilty that Amelia had suffered in part because of the choices she had made in coming west, these feelings tended to fade when she heard the girls giggling and talking among themselves at the back of the wagon.

In fact when the next day when both girls seemed quite recovered, apart that is from a reluctance to sit down, Charlotte felt a renewed faith in good old fashioned American family values.

“Mr Harris,” she asked brightly when he next rode by, “Did you ever discover what was amiss with the cows?”

Harris frowned, momentarily puzzled by Charlotte’s uncharacteristic friendly tone. Then he replied, “It was a damn feral dog tailing the herd.”

Charlotte bristled for a moment at his cursing but then recovered herself. “I trust the matter has been resolved,” she said.

“It’s gone now ma’am,” he said tipping at his hat.

Then before she could engage him in further conversation he rode away.

“Does that man never stay still?” She sighed after him.


Days passed into weeks and the train made good time. The landscape of the Nebraska territory opening and closing up by turns until the open range was punctuated by Courthouse Rock which seemed to loom up out of the ground without warning like some ancient castle.

“We’ll camp here for a day or two to let stragglers catch-up and carry out repairs,” Harris informed them.

The women exchanged looks and thought of laundry and bathing.

“Any water to be had?” Charlotte asked.

“Maybe,” Harris mused, “I’ll look into it. I know a place a ways off, but John will have to agree. Meanwhile don’t go wandering off and especially not near them cattle,” he added archly looking at the girls.

“No Sir,” both girls parroted, but their heads were already full off the prospective holiday, bathing and young men.

By the afternoon a rumour was going around that there was a spring nearby.

“Can we go and see mother?” Amelia asked.

“I don’t know, Mr Harris said to wait,” Charlotte replied, but her eyes scanned the horizon with hope.

Here and there were women in small groups carrying bundles or attired as if for bathing.

“If we don’t go we could miss out,” Rosaline urged.

Charlotte was torn and rubbed at her chin.

“Mr Harris said we shouldn’t go near the doggies,” Amelia pressed, “And we shant.”

“Alright, but don’t go far and stay with the other women. I’ll be along presently,” Charlotte relented.

Giggling the girls gathered up small bundles and sheets to serve as towels and hastened away in the direction the women were going before Charlotte could change her mind.

At first it was a pleasant walk under the shadow of Courthouse Rock, but they soon lost sight of the others beyond a rise and decided to strike out around the small hill to cut them off. It stood to reason that if there was open water then it was not up the slope.

Then what had seemed like a good idea mooed back at them.

“Oh golly,” Amelia sighed.

Before them in a depression were the train’s cattle that couldn’t be seen until they were right on top of them.

“We’ll have to turn back,” Rosaline groaned.

“They are only cows can’t we…” Amelia protested but fell silent at a look from her stepsister.

Amelia nodded and turned. Then she froze.

“Come on before Pa finds us… what’s wrong?” Rosaline frowned.

Then she saw it even before she heard it. The rattlesnake was a yard away set on the ground between Amelia and herself.

“Oh golly,” Amelia squeaked, her voice squeezed with fear.

“Yah,” Rosaline said tightly, “Don’t move.”

“What do we do?” Amelia asked in a whisper.

“I’ll get a rock or a stick or…” Rosaline wished she had brought a knife or the axe. Getting up close was quick and sure. She had seen someone with a musket fire and miss once. It had been bad news.

“Please Rosaline do something,” Amelia rasped.

The retort rattled across the open ground followed by a shuck-a-shuck of the echo. The snake shuddered and died almost at once.

“Gosh,” Amelia sighed in expansive relief.

“Wewie,” Rosaline breathed.

“I got it,” Charlotte yelled. “I can’t believe I got it.”

The Brown Bess braced across Charlotte’s chest looked far too big for her and yet somehow she had managed to wield it.

“Hell yes,” Rosaline squealed joined by an excited Amelia jumping up and down.

Then there was a low bellow and the tickle of hooves on the ground like drums. The cattle on the slope below them danced a little, a ripple running through them where they were packed together. Then all at once they broke and as one entity set to run.

“Stampede,” Rosaline yelled. “Run.”

By virtue of the rising ground the women were able to run clear as the cattle took an easier path around the lower slope, but nonetheless they didn’t stop until all three were back at the wagon where they collapsed in an unladylike heap.

In the event the stampeded wasn’t a bad one and no one was hurt, but it took all day to round them up and John West declared that they would have to wait another day to rest up.

“I know you raised the alarm, but I told you not to go near the cattle,” Harris raged.

“Yes Pa but…”

“But what? You weren’t near them?”

“No Pa, I mean yes Pa,” Rosaline remonstrated while a wide-eyed Amelia looked on.

“Get to the back of the wagon,” Harris growled, “And you,” he said to Amelia.

Both young women swallowed and ducked their heads before walking slowly where they had been told.

“Get,” Harris bellowed sending them scurrying.

By the time he had unbuckled his belt and followed them, both girls were bare bottomed and bending at the tailgate.

This time he spared neither of their tender bottoms and set about blistering both like it would save the world. Both of them rocked back and forth, bucking up their tails and yelping sobs at each impact which fell indiscriminately and in no particular order.

“I’m sorry Pa, I’m sorry,” Rosaline sobbed.

Amelia responded by just pushing her bottom back further and further to meet the assault as if that would end it the sooner. In response, taking it for compliant guilt, Harris obliged by striking her all the harder until she began to whimper loudly.

“Mr Harris,” Charlotte said anxiously, wringing her hands, “Please Mr Harris, I think you should know about the snake.”

Harris stopped mid blow and looked back at her over his shoulder.

“Did you or did you not go off without permission and head over to the cattle?” Harris asked sternly.

“We did Sir,” Rosaline wept.

Harris nodded and resumed the punishment while Charlotte danced around him trying to get his attention.

Finally Harris relented and the punishment came to an end.

“Now, what was this about a snake?” He growled.

Charlotte hastily related the tale of the three of them hoping to bathe and the girls setting out ahead and chancing on the cattle. Harris’s eyes narrowed somewhat when she mentioned her part in the mischief, but he did not react overmuch until Charlotte told him about shooting the snake.

“You started the stampede,” Harris yelled. “In heavens name woman, have you no sense? You could have used the rifle butt or anything. Do you know people were nearly killed? Hell you and the girl’s were nearly killed.”

Charlotte quailed before his angry onslaught but then he surprised her. Abruptly mid rant he seized her and drew her to him so that her feet left the ground and he spun her in a great bear hug.

“Mr Harris,” Charlotte exclaimed in harsh tones.

“Don’t ‘Mr Harris’ me,” he growled. “You girls get, I have something to attend to that should have been done a long time ago.”

The girls gaped back at him with tear-drenched faces their hands clawing at their bottoms in open distress as they hopped about in a punitive dance.

“I said get,” Harris roared and they scurried away, their reddened bare bottoms flashing at him like two cherry beacons as they fled.

“Mr Harris, what… I mean why are you looking at me like that?” Charlotte said nervously backing away.

Harris’s only response was to stride over to the wagon as he replaced his belt and reach in back for a razor strop.

“What are you going to do?” Charlotte said with a swallow as she backed away.

“I am fixing to give you licking of your life,” Harris rasped, “Now get your skinny tail uppermost over the back of that there wagon.”

“Mr Harris, please Sir, you can’t mean to…” Charlotte looked around hastily not only to see that the girls had gone but to see if anyone else was within earshot.

“You know how it’s done,” Harris insisted, nodding hard at the back of the wagon.

For a moment Charlotte contemplated fleeing and licked her lips nervously. Then she drew herself up with as much dignity as she could muster and walked elegantly to the back of the wagon where she began to strip.

“You have no right to do this,” she said indignantly even as she stepped out of her draws.

“I have every right, I am your husband,” he growled.

“Since when have you ever…” Charlotte’s marital protests were stilled with one look from Harris and she turned and bent forward over the tailgate as she had seen Rosaline and Amelia do.

“Bare your bottom,” he snarled.

Charlotte did a little undignified shimmy like a dance hall girl and then began to ruck-up her skirts in back. Her cheeks and ears burned as she was finally unveiled, but she couldn’t help a small surge of pride when she heard Harris give an appreciative whistle.

“You saw what I gave the girls,” he said softly.

“Yes Sir,” she whispered.

“You’ll get as much and more,” he said as the first heavy fire hardened weight of leather bit into her long unspanked tender bottom.

A long sharp breath escaped her throat and she rocked forward into the wagon, her arms flailing to get a better purchase.

The second searing splat extracted a groan, but a little like Amelia, Charlotte let her bottom relax as she thrust it further out as if to distance herself from it.

Harris paused to contemplate the already red bottom with dark and white welted streaks and then struck thrice more until his wife started to whimper a little.

“Announce your pain and regret and I’ll let up,” he whispered in something like concern.

Charlotte had been about to, but now she stubbornly shook her head and received four more belting strokes for her trouble.

Harris heard her breathe in sharply through the nose as her shoulders rose a little and then fell, and then he watched as she balled up her fists. Break damn you, he urged her silently. Then getting no further response he laid on six or seven slow heavy blows until his wife’s bottom carried vivid red rash and her harsh breathing gave way to small ragged sobs.

“Mrs Harris?” He said urgently.

She shook her head and tensed herself to receive another.

It came and hard with two or three fellows until a great wail escaped her and she groaned, “Please William.”

Harris immediately discarded the strop and moved to scoop her up in his arms.

“Oh William, oh William,” she sobbed, “We have been such fools.”

Harris nodded and smiled back at her as he swept her effortlessly up into the wagon and they truly embraced for the first time as man and wife.

“I’m sorry,” she wept over and over, “Sorry for everything.”

Their passions overtook them for several minutes until she was naked and he only half in his breeches and nothing else.

“Take me,” she gasped, revelling in the soreness of the grinding contact between her exposed bottom and the rough planks of the wagon floor.

“We have a ways to go,” he breathed, steeling himself, “It’s too early in the trail to risk a child.”

“You spoke of Indian ways,” she let the words hang between them.

“I don’t think…” He wished now he hadn’t spoken of such things to her.

“I don’t care, take me, blister my behind again if you have to, but take me,” she insisted.

His cockstand twitched at the thought of strapping her and with only passing guilt he realised he had enjoyed doing it.

“Take me if you’re man enough,” she goaded him.

His face became stern then and he gave a look of the conqueror to the conquered. Then turning her roughly about, he slid his manhood against her sex to slick it up a little and then pressed it against her smaller opening.

“Mr Harris,” she squealed.

“Call me that again in private and I will spank you.” Then he thrust home.

To her it felt like a fist in her nethers, but she would have fought a lion to keep him there. Then like a fist it seemed to open and close in ways beyond delight as she ran her own knuckles up and down against her sex. And when he finally withdrew she felt a pang of regret and groaned.

After long minutes of holding each other, the only sound their breathing, Charlotte reached for something under few belongings.

“Mr Harris, I’m sorry for my behaviour and early attitude to you, I know I have a lot to learn. I don’t suppose I can prevail upon you not to chastise me from time to time in what has become your traditional way; shameful thought that is. However,” she handed him her hairbrush, “Perhaps you would consider reprimanding me with this in private on occasion as an alternative.”

Harris took it and turned it in his hand. Then without warning he hauled over his lap and patted her bottom with it.

“What did I say I would do if you ever called me Mr Harris in private again?”

“Oh no, William you wouldn’t,” she said, the last word shrieking out at the first impact of wood on her already sore bottom

Someway off the two daughters were hunkered down where they hoped they would be out of sight tenderly applying goose grease to their sore behinds. They hadn’t missed the first drama and even Amelia had been amused by it. The second set of events had passed them by as they had attended to their own troubles. However, now two sets of ears perked up.

“He’s giving her another spanking,” Rosaline said in wonder, her face broken into a wide grin.

“Oh Golly,” Amelia giggled.


The wagon rolled at a good pace, driven for a change by its owner Harris whose horse was now tethered at the back. The other wagons were again spread out a little and were some little way off. This was just as well for the three women following on foot. Not one of them would entertain the idea of sitting to drive for days to come and belly down in the wagon had been forbidden to them for the rest of the day.

“Mr Harris has really gone too far,” Amelia fumed as she rubbed gingerly at her exposed bottom.

“I didn’t figure on this after the licking we got,” Rosaline said ruefully as she cast her eyes about dreading every sound of the prairies least it be a witness drawing near.

“But Mr West saw us this morning,” Amelia wailed.

“Hush now,” Charlotte chided, “I think we all know we had it coming.”

“Yes ma’am,” both girls said in unison.

Then all three realised the wagon was getting a little too far ahead and picked up the pace.

Anyone viewing from behind would have seen three settler women in a row with their skirts pinned high into the small of their backs so that their three red sore bottoms were well-displayed.

The end.

7 Responses to “The New Mrs Harris (Part 3 of 3)”

  1. 1 paul1510

    and excellent tale of the old West, and even better tails of the old South. 😀

  2. 2 Karl Friedrich Gauss

    An entirely believable and engaging story series. Thank you Damien!

  3. It was an awesome read. Hope see a continuation of this

  4. 4 bahamagirl1996

    Awesome read. Hope there is a continuation .

  5. 5 Tailgunner50

    I agree it was awesome and hope for more adventure along the trail and when they reach the homestead.

  6. 6 DJ

    There may be more from this and other families on the Oregon trail 😉

    The more eagle-eyed of you may have spotted that this story has some of the same characters from another story published her almost three years ago.

  7. 7 Charles

    I enjoyed it. Looking forward to reading further adventures. Besides Indian there is also oral, just a thought.

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