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 .......