Justice For Joel (Part 2)

Still
carrying the protesting, increasingly outraged and bare bottomed Joel
over his shoulder Miles marched up the street to the parking lot
where he had parked his truck. 
 
At 18, Joel
was a strong young man, but Miles was stronger, and despite his
attempts to struggle free, Joel could not escape from his mortifyingly
embarrassing position, made all the worse by the passers by laughing
and pointing as they saw him. The unhappy lad was keenly aware that,
apart from his white socks, he was naked from the waist down, and
that his still blushing red bottom publicly advertised to all that he
had been soundly spanked.
As
a reader it might be unkind to enjoy the humiliation of a handsome
but arrogant young jerk, but Heck, none of us are perfect. To someone
with such an inflated and sensitive ego as Joel, the shame of his
position was almost as painful as the spanking …. almost. Of course, he deserved it, so let us
just savour that fact!
On
reaching the truck, Miles put Joel down, whilst still holding him
tightly. He then opened the tailgate of the truck and pushed the
protesting lad onto some bails of hay which were in the back of the
truck.
Before
Joel could quite grasp what was happening, Miles had grabbed a length
of rope and tied him face down over the bail of hay.
What
the fu ….. what are you doing?” yelled Joel
I
have to keep my hands on the wheel!” replied Miles “So this will
keep you …. secure, while we drive to the ranch!”
With
that Miles opened the driver’s seat of the car and jumped “Make
yourself comfortable Joel, we have a five hour drive ahead of us!
To
Joel’s horror the van drove out of the parking lot and onto the city
street, with him still strapped bare bottomed and very exposed in
the open back of the vehicle. 
 
It
was midday, but still the traffic was heavy, so their journey through
town was slow, giving the local citizenry ample opportunity to see
Joel as the truck made its way through the streets. Like a small
carnival float, or, in Joel’s mind a tumbrel driving through the
cheering streets of revolutionary Paris, the only difference being
that he would not face the guillotine, and it would not be his head
that would be on the block.
Finally
the truck drove out of the city and began heading North West towards
the Montana border. For the first 80 or so miles, the roads remained
busy, and many motorists cheered and hooted when they caught sight of
Joel in the back of the truck.
After
a few hours of driving, the van crossed the Montana border, and
turned off the main highway, and to Joel’s relief they began passing
less traffic as they began heading deeper into the countyside.
He
had just been through the worst, and most pain filled, day of his
life and and still could not quite believe what had happened. He was
still only wearing his white shirt and socks, and was beginning to
think that Miles’s threat to keep him “bare bottomed” might be
real!
Although
still in trepidation as to what might lay ahead, his characteristic
defiance was beginning to reassert itself, and his crafty mind spent
much of the trip plotting ways which he might be able to avoid what
was planned for him, and once again, as so often in his life so far,
escape the consequences of his action.
As
they travelled, the countryside became more impressive, with stunning
vistas of beautiful rolling pastures and woodland, framed by cloud
topped mountains in the far distance. Of course, Joel’s face down,
bottom uppermost, position did not afford him the best view of
natures wonders, and in any event he was far more concerned with
wondering what might await him when they finally reached their
destination.
After
almost five hours of driving, the van turned of the road onto a long
dirt road drive way, which led eventually to a large ranch house,
surrounded by farm buildings.
Miles
parked the van, got out and walked round to the back and opened the
tailgate, before proceeding to untie Joel.
Do
you remember this farm Joel?” he asked “You stayed here once many
years ago, when you were very young.”
Joel,
who’s body was aching from the hours he had just spent in a very
uncomfortable position, scowled and glanced around. However,
instead of appreciating the magnificent views, Joel sulkily
contemplated how boring life would be stuck out here, so far from the
city. He again began to consider various means of escape.
He
vaguely recalled the farm and the fun he had once had playing there,
long ago, before the city, girls and adult games had become of more
interest to him than playing hide and go seek in some dusty old barn.
This
will be your home for the next year Joel”
Fuck
that!” blurted Joel “you can’t keep me prisoner here!”
Well
the court thinks otherwise kid” smiled Miles ”and I suggest you
mind your language in future!”
Joel
shrugged, he had no intention of either minding his language or
staying on some damn farm for a week, let alone a year.
You
will be working on the farm, and living with the farm hands going
forward” continued Miles “But tonight you can sleep in the house,
follow me” he opened the door and walked into the hallway.
Joel
followed, but was not happy with what he had just heard “What do
you mean ‘working’? The Judge didn’t say anything about work!!” he
muttered resentfully.
You
need to earn your living kid” replied Miles.
Fuck
that! I didn’t choose to come to this sh ….. farm!”
I
told you to mind your tongue!”
Fuck
you!” snapped Joel, “you are not my father!”
A
second later Joel found himself rammed, face first against the wall
as Miles held him firmly in place with one hand while using the other
to lift the back of his white shirt, revealing his still slightly
reddened bare behind.
Miles
then picked up a clothes brush from the hall table “I warned you
twice kid!” he snarled, “I am not going to warn you again!”
He
raised the brush high in the air and then brought it down with a loud
WHACK! onto Joel’s still tender behind.
AAAH!”
yelled Joel. “That hurts”
It
will hurt a lot more when I use this on you for real!” replied
Miles as he delivered two more stinging “ThWACKS!” to Joel’s
behind. “Which I guarantee I will, if you don’t behave
yourself!”
Miles
released his grip, at which point Joel spun round and glowered at the
older man. There had to be some way of escaping this situation, but
with a hundred miles of open countryside between them and
civilisation, that would not be easy to achieve.
That
night Joel slept badly, his mind beset with frightening nightmares,
all of which ended the same way.
The
next morning, a still sulky Joel woke up at an hour which was, for
him, unusually early and made his way, naked, into the bathroom
attached to the bedroom he had been allocated. 
 
He
turned on the bath tap and and then returned to the bedroom and began
going through the drawers, in the hope of finding a cigarette.
Unfortunately for Joel, Miles’ house was a strictly enforced no
smoking zone, and Joel’s own pack of smokes were in the pocket of his
black suit pants, which, together with his underpants and shoes, were
back at the courthouse, many miles away.
His
search proving fruitless, Joel sulkily returned to the bathroom, and
attempted to sit down on the edge of the bath, which was now full of
water. However, being preoccupied with the lack of nicotine he sat
down clumsily, and instead of sitting on the edge of the bath he fell
bottom first into the water. 
 
As
many a gambler has discovered, when they hit an unlucky streak, it
doesn’t get any better, and Joel’s luck, ably assisted by his own
carelessness, was getting increasingly worse. When he had run himself
a bath, he had only turned on the hot tap, so the bath his bare
bottom had just landed in was full of scalding hot water.
Joel
let out a scream, sounding not unlike a wounded animal as he leaped
out of the bath and began jumping up and down clutching his scorched
behind, swearing loudly as he did so. 
 
Still
rubbing his, again very sore bottom, Joel walked back into the
bedroom, it was then that he noticed the object on the floor
He
had tossed his white shirt on the floor before getting into the
shower and he wondered if he could tie that round himself, like some
loincloth. It was then that he noticed the white cylindrical object
which had fallen out of the shirt pocket, and remembered that his
buddy, Jose, had lent him a cigarette and match before entering the
court earlier that day.
He
quickly picked up the cigarette and searched frantically for the
match, which luckily was still in the pocket. He struck the match
against the bathroom wall, not caring that it left a mark on the
paintwork, lit the cigarette and inhaled deeply before exhaling a
stream of smoke.
Joel
was just in the act of taking a second drag of the cigarette, when
the bathroom door opened, and Miles Rutter walked in carrying a
holdall “Your Dad asked me to pack some clothes for y …..!” he
began, stopping abruptly upon seeing the cigarette smouldering
between Joel’s fingers.
What
the…!!” after a moment of stunned silence, Miles exploded with
fury “How dare you smoke in my house?!!. He strode up to Joel and
placed a firm hand on his shoulder “I did not give you permission
to pollute my atmosphere!”
He
snatched the offending, quarter smoked, cigarette from Joel’s hand,
threw it into the sink, and turned on the tap. “Do you know what
those things do to your body?”
Oh
will you get off my case man! …” shrugged Joel “it’s only a
smoke!”
The
words had barely left Joel’s mouth before he found himself being
dragged out of the bedroom by Miles, who then sat down on a large
leather setee, before forcing Joel to sit on his lap, facing away
from him. As Joel protested loudly, Miles pushed him forward face
down with his hands on the floor. Miles the hoisted Joel legs either
side of him, forcing the boy into what is commonly known amongst
spanking enthusiasts as the “wheelbarrow” position.
Joel’s father
had never spanked him in this position, so he was initially confused
by what was happening, realising only that he was in a very
vulnerable situation. 
 
Right
kid” grinned Miles, “this is where you experience your first
Ranch House spanking!” he raised his hand high in the air above
his head, before bringing it down with a hard SMACK! Across the
middle of Joel’s cheeks, which because of his position were already
slightly spread, and caused the centre of Miles’s palm to land
perilously close to Joel’s tight anus.
AAAHHHOWCH!”
yelled Joel “Don’t do that you pervert!!”
I
am not a pervert!” laughed Miles “I am simply carrying out the
sentence of the court!” With that he proceeded to spend the next
ten minutes giving poor Joel’s still glowing bottom yet another hard
spanking. This time in the vulnerable and, as Joel discovered,
especially humiliating, wheelbarrow position.
The
latest Spanking over, Miles pointed to a small rucksack in the hall,
and ordered Joel to get dressed.
It
was with some relief that Joel discovered that his father had indeed
packed a bag of clothes for him, and given it to Miles to bring to
the ranch. He had been worried that Miles would make good on his
threat to keep him naked.
Escape
would be a lot easier with clothes. And he certainly planned to
escape as soon as Miles’s back was turned.
Wearing
jeans, a blue plaid shirt and canvas sneakers Joel sauntered onto the
porch, and glanced casually across the wild empty landscape before
him. He knew from the previous day’s drive to the ranch that they
were a long way from town, but now he could see quite how isolated
the ranch was. It would be a long walk back to town, escape would
not be as easy as he imagined.
As
Joel was standing contemplating the best methods of escape, Miles
appeared “Come on Boy!” he snapped “Time for work!”
Huh?”
You
didn’t think you would get to sit on your butt all day, did you?”
laughed the older man “We will keep you fully employed while you
are here!”
Joel
scowled sulkily, although “sitting on his butt” was still
somewhat challenging, he has no inclination to actually do any work!
However, he reluctantly decided that he had better play along until
he could get away from this God damn farm, and grudgingly accompanied
Miles as he strode away from the ranch house towards a large hay
barn.
As
the approached the barn Joel saw a group of, mostly bare chested,
young men hard at work. He guessed these were ranch hands employed
by Miles to run the farm.
Good
morning guys!” barked Miles “This is Joel, he will be working
with you for the next few months!”
Joel
spun round “No I fucking won’t!” he snapped, almost spitting his
words with anger “I’m not a fucking ranch hand!”
Miles
turned to the man and smiled “Well guys” he said “It seems to
me that Joel is asking for the traditional introduction …. and I am
sure you men will be more than willing to give it to him.!”
The
group of men all grinned knowingly “Yes Boss!” replied one
We
sure will Boss!” replied another “That we sure will!!”

TO BE CONTINUED …….