She looks up at the old standing clock. Tick, tick, tick, it goes, as the brass pendulum swings slowly left and right, telling stories about events passed by. It is the first summer of the new millennium, a special year, which gives reason to contemplate. Through the window next to the clock, she sees a far steady queue of cars sliding by over the long straight road. The green fields of Ontario reach as far as the horizon, deep blue the summerly sky. Absorbed in thought, her eyes turn back to the old oak clock. The heirloom had once been her grandmother’s. Later, her parents passed it on to her as a bridal souvenir, to be taken along to Canada.

Tick, tick, tick… The clock brings her further back in time, to Holland. She has had a happy childhood, sharing her youth with two sisters, a brother, and her caring parents. It was a sweet family filled with love and togetherness. She has always been the naughty sheep though, being highly talented in escalating the parental nerves. She sometimes craved the attention and care of the strict paternal hand and shamefully enough, it was more than once that she had provoked it deliberately, strange a girl she was.

Antique she is, this clock. Tick, tick, tick,… Her mind wanders through time in preoccupation.  Good old Holland, so small, so cozy, not even a fraction of the province of Ontario. Everything was still in reconstruction, that first Summer after the liberation that ended a terrible war. She remembers those good-looking soldiers from overseas, proudly parading and riding through the streets. Dutch flags waving everywhere, new industriousness and vividness showing a liberated country getting back on its feet. That vibrant American music with the swinging beat of new hope, new times, a new future.

It was at a military party where they first met. He caught her eye immediately while he was talking to the other guys with dynamic gestures, making them laugh. Suddenly, he noticed her and smiled, raising a little thrill in her chest while she smiled back shyly. Being thirsty, she ordered a drink at the bar and took a sip. Then, she looked up,  straight into a pair of piercing eyes. It was him, the handsome and dynamic guy, one head taller than herself, two broad shoulders, looking ever so smart in his uniform. And then those clear and determined eyes, blue as the sky and deep as the ocean he had crossed. He, 24 years old, and she, just 19, a lively piece of youth.

He explained to her he was from Canada, in this cute rolling accent.

Already on that first evening, she was ignited by the spark of love during that first careful kiss.

So proud she was of her Canadian hero. A smile sweeps over her mouth, recalling how that rigid tank rattled her through the neighborhood, she sitting next to him, tightly held by his strong arm around her, friends waving up at them in elation.

They saw each other each Saturday, his one day off in the week. He then came from Amsterdam to visit her. They always met in the polder where a military truck dropped him in the morning and picked him up in the evening. She went there on her bicycle, coming from Spaarndam, the tiny parental village where she lived at the time. They preferred to meet in the countryside, as the damaged towns still looked grim and unattractive.

Being in full summer, she loved walking at his side or just having a little picnic in the meadow, eating some sandwiches and cookies she had brought along. In her mind she can still feel the soft summer breeze stroking through her blonde hair, the green field speckled with yellow dandelions, buzzy bees dancing in the air in celebration of the young peace.

The clock seems to tick more sternly as her thoughts stray away to that first time that she remembers so vividly. That first shocking incident… The entire scene plays in her mind like a movie.

It was on a Saturday. Ten o’clock showed the little watch around her wrist, shaking her up. Hell, already one hour late and still a 20-minute ride ahead on the bicycle. Damn, her chaotic mind and topsy-turvy ways! Quickly, she jumped on her old bicycle and hurried to the polder. It was already the second time in two weeks that she was late! She had already seen him from afar. Thank God he was still there.

“What on earth happened? I have been worried sick about you,” sounded his angry welcome.  Full of regret, she kissed him.

“When you love somebody, you don’t forget something like that,” he said with a tone of indignation. She was so upset with herself. Damn, when would she ever learn?

They took a silent walk towards the old, ruined remains of a farm. The only building more or less intact was the mangled cowshed, once connected to the farmer’s dwelling that was now reduced to a shattered façade and a pile of rubble. The barn’s walls were covered with bullet holes, the roof heavily damaged. She was afraid. What was he going to say? Would this be the end of their relationship?

She silently entered the barn behind him, the cracked wooden door squealing a tone of precariousness. 

“I don’t know. Is there any point in going on like this?” he asked her and sat down on an old wooden tool trunk. She started sobbing and weeping. She didn’t want to miss him for anything in the world, head over heels in love.

His clear blue eyes softened and looked at her with tenderness, although his voice was still angry.

“I can’t help it,” she quavered.

“It has always been like that; it is just the way I am. My poor dad just gives me this sad and disappointed look, when I mess up instead of giving me a proper… I mean, I need,… I really want to improve, but it’s just…”

“Okay, okay,” he interrupted her stammering. “But I still think this is not acceptable, and I’m wondering how to cope with an uncontrolled girl like you?”

“Please punish me if you want, I deserve it, but don’t walk out on me,” she cried with genuine regret.

He looked at her as if struggling with hesitation.

“Punish you?” 

Ashamed, her voice reduced to a blushing whisper:

“Like a bad girl, I mean. Like…, you know, firmly and soundly, so that I’ll finally learn...Oh, I’m so angry with myself!”

A silence fell over them. Even nature seemed to hold its breath, the meadow’s whispering breeze dying down for a moment. Seeing something blinking up in his eyes, she wondered what was going on in his mind. Then suddenly, his face showed a determined stance.

“Well, it looks like that’s the remedy you need. You very well deserve it, young lady!”

Relieved, she realized at this point that he was going to forgive her. She felt a strange, unexplainable thrill. She will never forget how he pulled her over his knees and pulled up her colorful summer dress. She remembers the robust shoes he was wearing and the feeling of the rough soldier pants under her thighs. How firm his hand, smacking loudly on her thin panties! She thrashed her legs and whined of pain, but at the same time felt so wonderfully loved.

She sighs shortly in meditation while the old clock is ticking along with the memories of old times.

His fingers hooked her panties, easing them all the way down. Her naughty bottom exposed to the open summer air that gently sneaked its way through the damaged walls of the barn. For the first time in her life, a spanking with her panties down, on the bare! She felt so naked, so femininely vulnerable and naughty. She whined and sobbed, feeling the loud swats slapping down magnificently, again and again, until a miraculous glow radiated through her body. She remembers the tender kisses afterward, sitting on his lap to make up for everything. This heavenly feeling of reconciliation. Just the funny girl she was; she had found her hero for always.

The next two weekends passed by wonderfully without any shocking incident. The spanking had taught her the lesson she needed and she arrived orderly on time each Saturday. The old barn and the sunny polder field around were their little place of refuge, all to themselves. They loved talking about the future, the exciting dream of the promising new times ahead. They speculated how the world would look in ten years. Wow, imagine that would be the year 1955, a new future world, still so far away, with a promise of spectacular new opportunities ahead.

Things would have remained quiet and peaceful if it weren’t for her, the bad little devil she could be sometimes. One day, she arrived more than 40 minutes late, this time on purpose. Provocatively, she wore the same summer dress as during the painful event before, but this time without her panties she had ‘forgotten’ to put on. Her burning need had gotten the better of her. She just couldn’t help it. She felt ever so excited, being naked under her long summer dress. Her heart was beating fast, feeling ever so naughty and in need of his strict attention.

In the barn, she interrupted his preach and nestled herself over his knees, him hardly needing to ask, as a flutter of tease filled her tummy. When he pulled her dress up, he understood immediately what was going on. Damn girl, how could she do that to him on purpose!  She will never forget how indignant he was. He would teach her a lesson, he sure would! She cried aloud and kicked her feet helplessly as his masculine hand palms exploded down on her naked behind. The smacks were harder than they had been the previous time.

He put her back on her feet, and with one smooth movement pulled loose his broad leather soldier belt as she was watching him in a sob of tears. Standing straight, he put his left foot on a wooden crate. Then he pulled her over his thigh without any hesitation. Surprised, she found herself over his leg like a naughty piece of laundry hanging over the line. The broad soldier belt didn’t need to be folded in two, as its thick single end already performed terrifically as a leather strap. It was the first time in her life that she underwent a real adult spanking. She saw stars before her eyes when the single end of the belt smacked across her bare bottom. There seemed to be no end to the punishment as the swats kept coming down and down, her behind glowing like a mad blazing fire.

Finally, she was allowed to slide off his knee. He then took her in his strong arms, his sobbing, sweet girl. That divine feeling of consolation. They made love for the first time. It was a passionate, wild love on the floor between the forgotten bales of hay, blessed by the blue summer sky that was looking down on them through the damaged roof.

Tick, tick goes the old clock. A little tear of melancholy finds its way over her cheek to her chin. How proud she was when she stood next to him down the aisle. She, in white, and he, in his officer’s uniform. Then, that long journey by boat and by train to Ontario. Everything was so strange and so far from home, everything so different. The long straight roads, the typical wooden barns with their gambrel roofs, those big cars.

They have never been able to get children, but they came through it together. His strictness and their love have always been intertwined, and she has always needed both. He has never used the belt again, but his firm hands would give her a long and hard spanking to make her bare behind blush and glow if she needed it. She would weep with pain and happiness, safely over his lap, as ever so loud slaps would explode on her naughty bare bottom. She couldn’t imagine a life without it. She always stayed his naughty girl.

How much everything has changed! The old 5th Street, with Mr. Carter’s flower shop where she worked at the time, does not exist anymore, having given way to the huge modern mall with its large parking area around it, filled with modern cars shining in the sun, and decorated with brightly colored billboards.

The only thing that is still the same is the bright red Canadian flag with its proud maple leaf. She looks again through the window. Holland, too, had such a wide horizon, and yet so very different with its crooked, narrow roads, its cozy villages with steep church towers that here and there sky-lined the otherwise straight Dutch horizon.

Gray is her hair now, her face full of wrinkles, her back bowed down a bit. She hasn’t been spanked for many years. It’s the limitations of age. But still, if she has been chaotic, he will have her stand in the corner near the clock to contemplate her sins. She wouldn’t miss it for the world; she is still his naughty little girl. She loves him so much. The stormy, intense passion of the past has given way to a warm friendship and bond.

Tick, tick, tick goes the patient clock in the corner. Suddenly, she feels his warm breath in her neck and she turns around. Mat and pale are his eyes now. Deeply grooved are his wrinkles, stained of age his skin, and silver-white his hair. The doctors have spoken with great concern. Nobody knows how long he still has.  But right now, she is still allowed to feel his secure arms around her, her head firmly against his shoulders. He belongs to her, she to him. Her hero.