Forgotten Barn

She lay in the dark barn full of discarded and long-lost tools. Her companions were an old ladder, a hay wagon with broken spokes whose glory days had long passed, spiked reins, and a dusty horse collar. Among these were several other items such as a rusted plow with a broken plowshare and an old butter churn. A long bullwhip hung on the wall next to the horse collar. He was used by the master to hurry the horses.

Whip thought of himself as more than just a horse drover. He believed himself to be the most important tool of them all! Thanks to him, the lord could always get quickly wherever he wanted and the field was always well worked.

“Because of me, everyone danced like peacocks at the master’s command!” bragged Whip.

“Your conceit, silly Whip, has unhinged your mind,” the rattan cane laughed. She lay half-hidden in old straw, but spoke with pride.

“You have only ever hit a horse’s hindquarters, while I have beaten many beautiful butts -  more than you ever dreamed!" Her tone was haughty and condescending. She came from distant England and so thought herself to be an aristocrat.

“You are not the only one who saw a lot of naked butts,” The hay wagon modestly joined the conversation. “Remember young Jack? We both taught him a lesson he deserved!”

“How?” asked Whip. “How could a lowly wagon teach him a lesson?”

“Like every late summer, I was ordered to transport hay into the barn,” replied Wagon indignantly. “Jack was the boy who rode me to the field. We had to get there before evening. But one day, instead of setting off, John just slumped to the ground with a sad face.”

“I bet he was waiting to see Jane, the cook’s helper, who worked with us,” sighed Butter Churn. “I got so sick of listening to her silly poems.”

 

Roses are red, violets are blue.
Johnny is so cute, I love you.

 

“Bleeeeh!!!”

“You are right,” said Hay Wagon. “He wanted to catch her on her way home. That day Jane had to stay longer at work, so John waited and waited leaning against my wheel. The young girl didn’t come. It was getting late, but John didn’t care. I was afraid for him. Suddenly, our Lord showed up out of the blue. The boy jumped to his feet and cried out, ‘Good evening Sir! I was about to set off, Sir!’”

“You should already have gone and come back!” The master roared. “This is the second time this has happened, you stubborn, lazy brat!”

“I’m sorry sir.” John tried to apologize. “But then,” exclaimed Cane proudly, “when he saw me in the master’s hand, the boy froze and couldn’t say another word. Shivering with excitement, I waited for that beloved sound. And then it came—‘Strip!’ John was so young and fit I knew our Lord wouldn’t treat him lightly.”

“I still don't understand how Hay Wagon was helpful,” complained Whip.

Indignantly, the wagon explained. “The Lord ordered the boy to get naked. The young hayseed begged for mercy but despite his pleas, we all heard the menace in our lord’s words: ‘I told you to strip. Don’t make me repeat it. With every second of delay, you earn extra strokes!’”

“Resigned, John did as he was told and took off his clothes,” explained Wagon. “Master pointed at me with the cane and said, ‘Climb up and bend over.’ He pushed the boy over my wooden bar, head down inside, legs apart and naked butt sticking out. He tied the boy’s hands so that he was balancing on me in an uncomfortable position.”

“His cheeks were perfectly exposed,” crowed Cane. “When Lord swished me through the air you could see how much it frightened the boy. Did you feel it, Hayrack?”

“Of course, I did!” laughed the wagon.

Cane continued, “The trembling nineteen-year-old followed me with his eyes as I prepared to deliver his punishment. When the Master touched me to his butt, his whole body shivered. ‘First fifty,’ the Lord proclaimed. John gulped and held his breath waiting for the first stroke. His helpless buttocks clenched preparing to receive my bite.”

“And then my wonderful dance began.” Cane sighed wistfully. “Those were the days. It was a real ride! You were very helpful, Hayrack old friend. You held him fast. I remember that he was told to stick out his arse for my pleasure. I think he got seventy lashes on his bare bottom. I whistled as I cut through the air, thrashing his firm, round rump. Our Lord certainly knew how to use me. Each time I connected with the boy’s butt, a long red welt immediately appeared on both cheeks. Under every stroke, I felt his butt tighten with pain.”

“Crack, crack, crack!” Recalled Cane.

“He wriggled his hips and his legs flailed behind him. Every muscle in his body was taut as a bowstring as I weaved a red pattern of agony on this exposed arse. With great relish I slashed across several of the earlier welts, causing the boy great distress.” Cane smiled broadly at the memory.

“He cried out pitifully at each stroke,” added Hay Wagon. “The boy wanted desperately to avoid Cane’s punishment, but I held him so he could only wave his legs and wiggle his arse a little on my bar. John howled after every stroke laid across his exposed buttocks. Tears and sweat flowed down my beams. He shouted, ‘Please! Stop!’ but our Lord only increased the ferocity of the caning.”

“That’s right!” Butter Churn recalled.

“Tirelessly, our Lord laid on strokes with a terrifying fervor that made the boy yelp inagony. Finally, Jane appeared, summoned by Johnny’s screams, and saw your wonderful artwork on his buttocks!” “Did they ever become a couple?” Wondered Cane with amusement.

“All I know,” replied Butter Churn, “is that she stopped thinking up poems about him. Luckily, however, her friends didn’t...

 

Violets are blue, John’s ass is red
He got a thrashing he never forgets

 

At this, they all had a good laugh and Butter Churn said, “Thank you, dear Cane, for these wonderful memories. And thanks to you too, Hayrack.”

Cane nodded her acknowledgement and said, “Since then I have often met Johnny’s buttocks. Master promised him that he would cane him every summer week. And he did! It was my honour to teach this boy what real pain means! I caned him every Saturday night...and I loved it!”

Whip glowered jealously from his place on the wall. He also had a story to tell.

<Next part - Plow story>