Vote For Me
By Crossmanx at - crossmanx@hotmail.co.uk - comments and ideas welcome.
Use you vote wisely, make sure it goes to the ‘right’ candidate!


Vote For Me

It had been almost a week now since the general election had taken place and
life was starting to get back to normal after all that, even here in
Meadowside District. Which was north of the city and out in the lovely, quiet
and idyllic countryside that many people craved to move to if only they could
get out of the rat race of city life.

It was quite a large parish district, run by its own local council and covered
a dozen quiet small villages and one largish village right in the middle of
the area. Well realistically this was two small villages that had grown over
the years, decades and centuries to become one large village, the village of
Dom cum Man. The villages from the past of Domitory and Manitory had joined
together, in fact there was now a bridge in the centre of this new village
that brought Domitory and Manitory together. A bridge over the point where two
rivers met, the river of Bow and the river of Down.

So, this was the village of Dom cum Man, where the rivers Bow and Down met. It
was here in Don cum Man that the Parish Council for Meadowside District was
based, a council that administered and looked after and over this quiet,
lovely, tranquil area of Meadowside!

But even in idyllic Meadowside there was another side, the underside where
'things' happened! Rumours where spoken about in a soft voice and the people
who lived here thought, believed, knew, that all wasn't as nice as they hoped
it all was. The gossip of 'thing's' around the area could be heard if you
managed to listen into the men's conversation down in the Cock Inn, when they
were meant to be walking the dogs. Or listening to the women that gathered in
the village Post Office, for their morning gathering, either way, the rumours
where all the same.

There was 'talk' about events going on at The Old Manor House, which was right
on the northern tip of the district boundary. It was a posh old place, with
its own lands, private road, stables, all of that and had been brought not so
long ago by an equally posh family the Templeton-Smyth's. There was the
husband, wife and two daughters, but it was the wife, even though she referred
to herself as Ms, and the daughters that the rumours concentrated on. Some
strange going's on up there at The Old Manor House, some very strange going's
on indeed. (Reader may wish to read the previous story The Quiet County Life).

But there were also stories about events in the west of the district, at Home
Wood Farm, well to be precious at the Home Wood Equestrian Centre. The main
Equestrian and stable establishment not just the in Meadowside area but
further afield. This was run by the formidable and bullish larger than life
Captain Hammond, the ex-Carvery Officer, well everyone 'thought' that, who
everyone referred to as 'Sir!' Again, there were 'rumour's that not everything
was gleaming with spit and polish and not everything was running with military
precision. 'Maybe' there was other things going on in those stable barns?
(Reader may wish to read the previous story Red Barn Bout).

Of course, these where only stories, rumours, after all this was a rural
community spread over a large area and with the Parish Council running
everything so smoothly people just made up stories to past the time, didn't
they?

In Dom cum Man, Trent had just parked his car outside his house, he and his
wife Marcia had moved to the village form the city some 3 years ago and
slipped quite nicely into village life. Even though Trent still had to go into
the city to work and with all that commuting and traffic it was all still
worth it to come home to this peaceful life here in Dom cum Man. The man had
obviously heard all those rumours and found them quite amusing, but never
given them a second thought, but maybe that would all change?

He got out his car, stretched and looked around the lovely, quiet village that
seemed so clam and peaceful. There was a black horse tired up to one of the
many posts around the village, a sign of times gone by, when horses where a
common sight around here. There was a small stable on the other side of the
bridge and as best that he knew the horses there all seemed to belong to
women. Women with more time on their hands than they should have and spend
most of that time riding around the countryside. Trent's wife had recently
talked about getting a horse, even gone up to the stable and something had
sparked her interest off in all this. But Trent was doing his best to put her
off, it all looked like too much work having a horse to take care of when she
had him to look after as well. He was only thinking of his wife here!

He started to forget about the horse as he walked up the garden path to his
front door ... ...

At that moment and to the north of Dom cum Man, up at The Old Manor House,
maybe something was happening ... ...

In the stable block, near to The Old Manor House there's a lot of activity
going on, as the lady of the Manor, Ms Templeton-Smyth, was enjoying her 'new'
delivery boy, Jimmy. Since returning back from university he'd been 'dragged'
back into helping out on his Father's Farm. His younger Brother, Simon, use to
do all the deliveries of fresh products around the local area. But since a
chat from a policeman over issues with Simon's driving licence, Jimmy had
taken this over.

Previously when doing the deliveries, young Simon had used his cute, boyish
charm and looks to brighten up the days of some of the local ladies, one being
Ms Templeton-Smyth. When Jimmy had turned up in Simon's place she had mistaken
him for another 'delivery' she was expecting and thrashed the lad, servery.
But when this 'mistake' had been noted the lady had decided that both Brothers
could attend to her needs, one way or another!

Jimmy coughed and splattered as he lay there on the cold, hard concrete floor
of the stable block, he could see the head of the big black stallion looking
down at him over the door to its own area enclosed area. The look on the
horse's face was one of total apathy to the poor lad's plight, Jimmy turned to
now look up and see the face of the woman, at whose hands, he'd suffered there
in that stable.

Ms Templeton-Smyth looked down at Jimmy, she was an older woman, late 40's,
with dark long hair, that was quite messy as if she'd been working hard, which
she had, on him! She was obviously attractive, with deep, dark eyes, that
where both inviting and unemotional at same time. She had subtle red lips and
a few odd lines on her face, but still she didn't look her age, whatever it
was. An attractive woman who was dressed appropriately for the country, the
stable and this 'actively!' In her tight beige jodhpurs with black riding
boots, showing her good legs, then her slim waist and a simple white blouse,
all completed with a harsh riding crop in her hand, and Jimmy knew just how
'harsh' it could be!

Either side of Ms Templeton-Smyth were her daughters, the twins, not identical
but still twins. The dark-haired girls, with their cheeky grins, where both
dressed for riding, one in black boots, white jodhpurs and a red blouse, the
other in brown boots, pink jodhpurs and a blue top. One girl carried a riding
harness the other a saddle and Jimmy knew he was still in trouble. "Alright
girls, your turn now." Ms Templeton-Smyth turned to leave her girls to their
fun and at the door to the stable was the younger Brother Simon. Waiting for
his turn to do his bit in the bedroom to satisfy Ms Templeton-Smyth's other
requirements!

Also at that time and to the west of Dom cum Man, at the Home Wood Equestrian
Centre there were other things happening ... ...

In another horsey environment, there was more activity happening, in this case
it was taking place in one of the many barns at the equestrian centre. There
were many there, they had a purpose and where organised and colour coded to
make the centre run efficiently, with military precision. There were white,
grey & black barns for the horse, depending on how skilled the owner and
riders where, brown barns for horse feed, green for equipment and in the
centre one single Red Barn.

The Red Bran was only accessible to 'certain' members and riders who attended
the centre, a select few and top of this list was of course Captain Hammond,
well it was his equestrian centre! He was already inside the Red Bran along
with a couple of these certain other 'special' centre members and riders. The
Captain might be top of the list, it might even be his centre and his barn,
but he wasn't having it all his way inside.

The tall, strong mature man, the man in his early 40's with his chiselled good
looks and handsome face, that a number of the younger girls that came riding
here, found so interesting. The 'fit hunk' as these girls liked to referred to
him as, well he was in trouble. Captain Hammond was on the floor, he was hurt
after being on the receiving end a good, solid, and well fought, encounter
with two of his most avid admires, Georgiana & Alice.

These girls had been for their daily ride and after having that strong
stallion between their thighs, now the girls liked to finish off their visit
to the centre with something else! The girls had stripped off their riding top
and where ready for some time spent with another strong stallion, Captain
Hammond! This 'special time', the rough and tumble in the barn amongst the
hay, the fight, for that was what is was, had gone Hammonds way to start with.
He'd got in number of good early strikes, two or three on each girl, maybe
even four. But then they'd turned the tide, double teamed him, beat him down,
down to the floor and then carried on with their dominance over the taller,
stronger, older man.

Georgiana, was the younger, shorter of the girls, a freckled faced teen with
short red hair and a cute nose. She wiped the blood away from her cut lip then
sent her boot into Hammond's gut. Dressed in her riding boots, tight jodhpurs
with their blue outer and pink inners and her beige & black crop top, she
grinned as she moved out the way to allow Alice another hit at the man. Alice
was just a month or so older and an inch or two taller, and had the same
forceful kick that her friend had, which pounded the man's gut, hurting him
some more. The good-looking Alice with her long fair hair in an appropriate
ponytail was also dressed in most of her riding gear, the boots, the tight
jodhpurs that where purple on the outside and green on the inner, and then her
black & red crop top.

The two girls, the friends both knew there had plenty of time on their hands,
as Marjorie, Georgiana's Mum and their ride back home, was off scouring the
equestrian centre as she'd heard there was a new cute lad who'd just started
working there. She was determined to see if the rumours about how good he was
where true, and of course 'introduce' herself to him! So, with that in mind
Georgiana and Alice had plenty of time to carry on with Captain Hammond and
once they had beat him, once they had won, they would each claim a victory
kiss off of the defeated man, that was the best part!

Back in Dom cum Man and Trent had made his way up to and in through the front
door of his quant country house, or is that village house, anyway he liked it
and that's all that matters. When he got inside Trent headed straight for the
kitchen, he could hear the low muttering of voices coming from the living room
and guessed that his wife, Marcia, had one of the other village woman around
for a cuppa and a chat! As the man went about making his own tea he thought to
himself how good it would be to work from home, like his wife did, easy life!

It was while he was pottering around that Trent noticed something on the
kitchen table, it was just a leaflet, a flier of some kind, but somehow, he
was drawn to it. He picked it up, looked at it and investigated it further 'Oh
No!' He hadn't read farther than the bright red writing that said, 'Vote For
Me, in the upcoming Parish Council Elections!' Then Trent remembered, the
local Parish Council election where due, voting was in a couple of days' time,
'Another bloody election!'

There had only been the general election last week with all those weeks and
weeks of TV, radio and newspaper coverage and now it was still going on with
this 'stupid, bloody Parish Council election!' Trent had heard, down the pub,
that this had been done deliberately, get the general election out the way,
and then a week or so later have the Parish Council election. Well this was
Meadowside District and not a lot goes on, so the council decided to spread
the elections over a few weeks, so that way it would make things more
'exciting' for the locals. Give them something to talk about in the pub and
post office, instead of listening to all those silly rumours!

For Trent, it would mean another walk down to the village hall to cast his
'all-important' vote and then stand around for God knows how long being talked
to by some people who he didn't really know, or want to know. As far as he
could see it had been the same people on the Parish Council since time began.
The photos in the village hall went back year by year, decade by decade and
they all seemed to be the same people, in all the photos, just a little bit
older in each one.

The Parish Council was one of the small downsides to living out here in the
countryside, or was it just this Parish Council. They did have a tendency of
trying to involve everyone in everything which was backed up with a weekly
newsletter and what seemed to be a flyer or update every other day. Trent just
shook his head, he just about knew the members of the parish council and from
what he knew about how things worked around here there was no way that anyone
else could ... ... ... 'Hold on what's this?'

He looked back at the flyer in his hand, and surprisingly it wasn't from the
council, it wasn't from anyone on the council canvassing for re-election
either, it was from someone new! 'Now that was different.' Trent's attention
was now grabbed by the flyer as he read further about this person who had
'dare' to now stand against the already well established current Parish
Council members.

He laughed to himself and then out loud as the thought of someone new actually
standing for the Parish Council. But as he carried on his smile turned into a
bit of a frown as he realised just who this certain someone was. Firstly, this
was a newcomer to the village, and although Trent and his wife had lived here
for three years now, they still fell into that newcomer bracket. But this
person had only been living in the village for a month. So being here for such
a short time didn't give anyone the right to even think about, let alone run
for the local Parish Council!

Also, this 'person' was a woman, and here in the village there where some old
fashion views and values to be upheld. 'A woman on the Parish Council,
unthinkable', the only women on this council was Mrs Turnbull, she was married
to the council president Mr Turnbull and she was only there to act as council
secretary and take down the minutes at all the meetings. A woman whatever
next?

So, unbelievably there was a new person to the village, who wanted to upset
the applecart and she was a woman, who rumour had it, lived on her own, not
married! No husband or anything like that and ... ... she lived in the 'Dom'
part of the village, over the bridge on the other side. That was 'OKish' as
the post office where all the women gossiped was on that side, along with the
school, kid's play area, the women's institute building, the stable and the
shop. But it was different on this side, the side of the bridge where Trent
lived, the 'Man' side.

This was where all the decisions were made, on this side of the bridge was the
pub, the Parish Council building, the cricket ground and club, all the
important stuff. Now Trent was no chauvinist, but even he felt as if this
'woman' was having a laugh rather than respecting the local village and its
hard-working council. Strange how someone's views can change so quickly, 'now
who was this upstart of a woman?' Trent carried on and found the woman's name
'Arh, so, Miss Trust, that's your name, is it?' If he'd thought about it for a
moment the man might had changed his mind back as he'd see that her name,
might just suited someone canvassing for votes for a post in local government,
even at this low level.

"What the hell!" But there was more not only where there the words 'Vote For
Me, Miss Trust' but there was a list bullet points about her 'policies' and
what she would do as a council member, but it was a list that this man found
hard to believe, accept or even contemplate.

Public House to limit only two drinks per day to all male customers, and only
served when in the company of a suitable female.

Cricket club to be disbanded and a new women's Hockey team to take over the
facilities.

A curfew, for men only, to be imposed, from 9PM to 6AM when work starts.

Work parties, consisting of 4 men per team, to carry out village maintenance
to start immediately.

Weekend to be declared 'Ladies Day's', all women in the village to take time
off and be pampered, waited on and worshipped.

Any man found wondering around unsupervised by his woman to be taken to the
local vet and ... ...

'Hold on a minute! That's going far too far and way out of line, you can't do
that its ... ... ' Just then there was a loud burst of laughter coming from
down the corridor and the direction of the sitting room. Trent once again
looked at the flier and wonder 'is 'she' here?' The man set off down the
corridor the flier now screwed up in his hands and a sense of outrage and even
anger flowing through his manly body.

At the door of the sitting room there was again a burst of female laughter and
somehow, he didn't know how or why, but he felt as if was aimed at him, as if
he was being mocked by this laughter. His hand went onto the old wooded door
and maybe he was slightly more annoyed than he should have been. But his hand
hit the door hard and it flow open, spinning around and then banging against
the wall. But his sudden entrance and the noise of the door slamming against
the wall now made for an uncomfortable silence that was deafening.

In the room, there was indeed two women, one was Marcia, Trent's wife and the
other? 'Yes, it was her, this Miss Trust woman!' The woman, Miss Trust, put
down her cup back onto the table in front of the two women, who had been sat
chatting on the settee before this man had be so rude and stormed in so
abruptly. Another pause, where nothing was said but then Marcia went to say
something but Miss Trust placed her hand on her 'friends' leg, looked at her
and gently shook her head, as if to say 'leave this to me.' And with that she
stood up and stepped away from the settee and closer to the man.

The pause began again as both Trent and Miss Trust now looked at each other,
stared, as if psyching each other out. The man and woman were the same height,
quite tall, the man was 29, broad and with the designer stubble that gave him
a rouged, handsome look. Dressed in his trousers and smart tailored shirt with
the sleeves rolled up, he had that tough office worker appearance. The woman
was dressed in boots, a pair of tight white jodhpurs and a long sleeved brown
top, again tight fitting, over this was a short black sleeveless jacket.

She was 38 or was it 39, with long straight dark brown hair, a simple but
somehow attractive face with her dark eyes and bright red lips. She was all
woman, a big woman, not fat or hefty but she had good, noticeable thighs,
broad shoulders, her arms were also firm, stout, and her chest! That was big
as well, the way her jacket was pushed out to the side by her protruding
breasts did not go unnoticed.

She was a 'horsy' woman, the way she was dressed confirmed that and by the
almost stern look on her face she was a woman who could control a stallion, it
was probably her horse that was tied up outside Trent thought. He recognised
her as the new woman to the village, although they had not met or spoken. But
he knew she was the new one, and already she was making a name for herself by
standing for the Parish Council so soon after moving into Dom cum Man.

Miss Trust took a few more steps closer to the man and looked Trent up and
down. The man felt as if she was trying to be intimidating, so he took a
couple of steps closer to show her. He wasn't quite sure what, but just to
'show her!' The woman then turned to Marcia who was still sat down and
watching as if she was waiting for something, "this is your one?" The woman
said to his wife and Trent felt annoyed with this, the way she'd spoken, what
she'd said and not even speaking to him, not even a hello. This wasn't the way
to get his vote! Still only speaking to Marcia, "let me go through and
demonstrate my policy for making this a better village for women ... ... "
WHACK! OOOOHHHHHH!

Miss Trust opened her policy up by turning swiftly back to Trent, reaching out
grabbing onto his shoulders pulling the man even closer to her and shooting
her knee up into his groin! The sudden blow caused pain, make the man gasp for
breath and sent an almost electric shock wave through his body. The move
stunned Trent who just griped himself, closed his eyes and cried out "FUCK!"
He held himself there hunched over, desperately trying to strain and deal with
the pain that had engulfed him. After the initial shockwave of pain, it slowly
soothed away and he could begin to think straight, the man was now going to
... ... CRACK!

There was a hard, sharp blow that seemed to come out of nowhere and pound
straight into the side of his head, Trent shuddered, he wobbled and took a
couple of sideways steps to steady himself, to stay on his feet. He felt as if
his head had just been blown up like a balloon and then been deflated like a
punctured football. The ringing sound in his ears and the cold sharp throbbing
pain that was rushing around his head didn't help either.

As Trent dealt with this as best he could the woman moved in close to him, she
turned around and shoved her large, well-formed arse into his crotch. This
should have been a quite pleasant feeling, to say the least, that firm butt
nestled against his cock. But just at this moment Trent had issues of pain to
deal with instead. She now needed to gain his attention, properly, so Miss
Trust could go through her policy about 'closer interaction with people in the
village!' WHACK! OOOUUUHHH!

The woman's elbow went driving back into Trent gut, forcing the air out of
him, stunning the man and making his body lurch upwards as he gasped for
breath then double over as the pain of that blow took hold. As his head came
down, her arm went up and wrapped around his head, his neck fell into the
crook of her arm, her hand took hold of the top of his head and there was a
moment where he felt her muscle flex and press against his head, he was sure
he felt that, then, HUUUHHH! THUD!

Miss Trust dropped down, at the same time she pulled Trent's trapped head
downwards with her arm and flipped the man, turning him spinning him over, all
the way so he went over and landed on his back. There he lay for a moment, his
head spinning as he looked up in confusion at the celling of his sitting room,
wondering to himself 'what the fuck just happened?'

Before he could make sense of this or even attempt to answer his own question,
WHACK! ARRRRHHHHH! A leg went upwards and a boot came downwards, down into the
man's groin, another strike to his already hurt area, as the heel of her
riding boot went into demonstrate her policy on how she'll 'stamp out problems
in the village!' Trent hollered and there was obviously a disagreement about
this strategy between the man and the woman, but Miss Trust was determined to
put her policy forward and once more drover her 'point across' as her boot
again came down into his groin.

There were more cries of agony as the man now showed he 'fully understood' the
woman's policy! Next door and Royston, Trent's neighbour looked up for the
crossword he was doing at the kitchen table as he waited for his evening meal.
He was sure he heard something, a cry, a scream of some kind, very strange,
very annoying!

Back in Trent's quiet country village house, Miss Trust was going through her
policy of a neighbourhood watch scheme, aimed at looking out for men behaving
badly, WHACK! Miss Trust had already gone through most of the policy with her
boot as she kicked the man and sent him rolling across his own sitting room
floor. Then when he was lying on his front she came over reached down, grabbed
him by his head and yanked his head backwards. At the same time dropping down
and slamming her knee into the middle of his back. Now she had him bent
backwards and was covering the finer details with her fist as it came down
again and again into his head WHACK! CRACK! ARRRRHHHHH!

All this time and Marcia had still been sat there watching, she had to admit
though she had never taken much interest in politics. But all of a sudden, she
had this new-found interest in the subject, and by what she'd seen so far, she
defiantly knew who she would be voting for in the upcoming election!

Miss Trust carried on slamming her clenched fist into Trent's head, pounding
her policies into him until he was on the verge of turning his allegiance to
this new candidate. But before she completely won him over the woman had a few
more points to go over and 'explain' to him. She let go and got off of him,
then dragged him upwards and THUD! OOOOFFFF! A driving fist, first into his
gut then up into the bottom of his jaw. To show how she was going to 'reach
out' to everyone in the district, not just those who lived in Dom cum Man. She
now drove the back of her hand across his dazed, confused and hurt face SMACK!
The backhand was followed by a quickly returning open hand that, WALLOP!
UUUUHHHH!

His face was soon red, bruised and very sore as the woman demonstrated, by
slapping and smacking him some more, just how 'open' she was. And promising to
be just as open when she got into a position in power. It was very evident to
both Marcia and particularly Trent that this woman was determined to take a
firm hold of the Parish Council, should she be elected. She showed this by
grabbing hold of Trent with both her strong hands. She further demonstrated in
what direction she wanted things to go, as she yanked Trent's battered body
quickly to her. And finally, she showed just how she would drive her policies
through but throwing her knee up and back into Trent's groin. crushing his
already throbbing balls once more.

As Trent doubled over and cried out in more pain Miss Trust noticed a
screwed-up piece of paper on the floor, it was one of her flyers and had been
the one in Trent's hand when he first entered the room. The candidate was not
happy about this, littering was another of her policies! She picked up the now
ruined flyer with one hand and with the other grabbed Trent by his jaw. She
pushed her fingers together to forced his mouth open and stuffed the crumpled
flier into the man's mouth. 'There let him digest her policies, properly!'

Miss Trust was sure that she could put this house down as 'definites' when it
comes to supporting her in the election. So far, the woman was having a very
successful canvassing session, every house she'd visited today had ended up
pledging their support to her, one way or the other! But still there were a
lot of properties in the village and the sounding area that she needed to
visit to getting a felling for, and judge people's opinions and support for
her standing in the Parish Council election!

In the next property Royston was still waiting for his dinner to be served up
and was getting frustrated with himself for not working out 17 across yet. But
at least all that shouting and hollowing from next door had stopped, he'd have
to have words about that the next time he saw the man who lived there,
whatever his name was. Just then there was a heavy knock at the front door, a
short pause was followed by another heavy knocking sound, 'this was getting
unbearable now!' Royston called out to his wife who didn't answers 'Dame' he
got out and went to the door, hoping that it wasn't anyone about those stupid
Parish Council elections, as he wasn't in the mood for any of that right now
... ... !