Forgotten Barn VI

 

Whip story

Read previous part first: <Forgotten Barn V>

Beginning of the story: <Forgotten Barn I>

"I promised myself to eradicate his arrogance. Luke is broad-shouldered and I was ready for him to know what real whipping means. The Lord took me up, handling me perfectly.” He told Lucas: 

‘I should have trained you sooner’ "

"The boy clenched his fists wating for the first hit. This back deserved a good lashing from a very long time"

“The Lord whipped me suddenly through the air. I felt I couldn't let him down. I flew at enormous speed and bit the young back between the shoulder blades. Luke clenched his fists and tensed his body but made no sound."

“Well, I’ll tell you. That never happens to me,” bragged the cane.  “When I bite flesh, boys scream!”

“Yeah, right,” mocked the whip. “Anyway, his stoicism was just a pretence. I knew I was punishing his back exactly as our master wanted it. I was certain that the moans would soon be coming. Nevertheless, I was impressed. It was his first flogging and the first time anyone had ever withstood my punishment quietly. His friends were watching his punishment smiling. They encouraged me to whip him even harder!”

“As I predicted, the situation soon changed. It was a beautiful scene. The enclosed courtyard intensified the sounds I made whistling through the air, connecting with naked skin, followed by Luke’s groans. I must admit that it was my best job in in a while, especially after yesterday’s disappointing performance. I felt my master’s anger each time I cut the flesh on the boy’s exposed back. After every lash, a new deep red welt appeared across his shoulders. The punished boy flexed and twisted with every hit. He suffered most when I wrapped around his sides. You all know I love to wrap around the body and bite the torso of defiant young men. The Lord employed every one of my skills. Soon, the boy was writhing and screaming after every lash. I don’t think I have ever made such nice decorations before.” 

“Abruptly, the Lord stopped, ending the discipline sooner than I had expected. We approached the whipping post. Luke’s back was covered with my beloved red welts.  He looked back angrily at our Master. Just after I tore his skin! I was really surprised that he was not more repentant. With a tight smile, the Lord announced, ‘This evening we will pick up where we left off,’ leaving Luke bound to the post. I was so excited that it wasn’t over yet!”

“While what he had received so far was already the worst reprimand that I had ever given, the evening whipping was going to be our master's masterpiece. When we arrived, Lucas’ attitude had changed. He was looking back terrified. He clenched his fists and flexed his body, but had no spirit left. Tired, his fresh wounds burning, he knew it was only going to be worse. And I knew we were in for something extraordinary.”

“Our Lord silently approached the terrified boy dangling from the post.  He pulled his head back by the hair and whispered in his ear, ‘Shall we continue?’ He stepped back and in one quick, fluid motion I made a perfect first hit. Lucas immediately screamed very loud, not with anger, not with fear, just a desperate animal noise. His tensed muscles, trembling body, and bending knees eloquently communicated his pain. He struggled desperately and I was afraid that Luke might break free from his shackles.” 

“The Lord continued to whip the helpless young farmworker giving him minimum time to recover between lashes. I’d ever heard such loud, beautiful screams and moans before. He begged for mercy, but we were adamant. He had trouble catching his breath. His screams turned into one long wail of agony. His sides were covered with long red lines. On his back it was difficult to distinguish individual strokes, I bit him so many times. Only the best and hardest ones stood out on his tortured back. Soon, he had no strength left to cry. When we finished, Lucas was completely exhausted and near passing out.”

After this cruel whipping in the months to follow, a chastened Luke thought twice before doing anything foolish. The Landlord had a lot of use for him, which included frequent trips back to the whipping post. He instructed Lucas always to work shirtless so that he could readily whip him whenever the need arose.” Eventually, the bull-headed young man settled into life on the farm and learned how to behave during harsh punishment.  After a few years, he left us to marry a girl from the next village.”

“Oh, that's why I never got the chance to punish him!” exclaimed Reins. They were a little disappointed by the fact that they didn’t get to steer Luke during his workhorse mission. “You have our respect, Whip. You can handle even the toughest farm boys.”

“Well done”, added the butter churn congratulating Whip. 

Only the cane showed no enthusiasm.

To be continued... one day...

Forgotten Barn - part V

Britzka & Whip story

Read previous part first: <Forgotten Barn IV>

Beginning of the story: <Forgotten Barn I>

“Lucas returned to the manor house, squeezing me in hand,” the whip continued the story. “From time-to-time he stopped and looked at me with hostility. For a moment I was even afraid that he would throw me into the pond. Instead, he hung me next to the door and went to the courtyard. There stood the whipping post. He walked circles around the old stone column as if he were afraid to approach it too closely. It was rarely used because the Lord preferred to punish people promptly at the scene of the crime. But, because of the marriage, that was out of the question this time.”

“Lucas’ friends - the rednecks with whom he had raged in the carriage - had managed to catch Perlino. They teased Luke and predicted his miserable future: 

“‘Don't count on any mercy!’

“‘I think a trip next week to catch crayfish is probably not gonna happen!’

“‘Lucas’ back will be redder than a lobster’

“…and so on. But the one who fell off the horse was the most spiteful. He announced that he would be there to watch the whole punishment and encourage me to do my best work, by which I mean whipping this hunk as painfully as possible. Only the old house servant tried to cheer Lucas saying that after the wedding the Master would be tired and probably would forget all about the punishment, which didn’t sound the least bit credible. No one who knew our Owner would believe that he would ever forget a promised flogging!”

“Lucas was terrified. His friends’ taunts had gotten to him. He paced back and forth trying to focus on the noises coming from the forest. He kept glancing back at me hanging by the door. Finally, he took me down and rolled me out to see my real length. He already knew me enough from the trip to the wedding that he should be afraid.”

“Then our master appeared.” ‘I see you just can't wait for the punishment to begin’ He looked at the boy in his steely gaze. ‘Patience, young man, tomorrow we will meet…me, your back, and the whip. But first, I must rest. I want to conserve my strength for your well-deserved flogging. Meanwhile you will wait here in the basement.’  And with that, the Master deftly cuffed the young man’s wrists to the iron pipe.”

“Our Lord returned late the next morning. He untied Lucas’ wrists and ordered him to prepare for his punishment. The boy began to protest becoming aggressive and reluctant. Our Lord called to some farm workers. They took him by the arms and brought him to the post. Lucas was forced to strip to the waist." 

"I couldn't wait to caress his beautiful skin. His wrists were chained and cuffed above his head on both sides of the post. Nothing would interfere with our long conversation. This time, there was nothing to prevent me from showing all my skills and power. His muscular back was just begging to be whipped. I promised myself to eradicate his arrogance. Luke is broad-shouldered and I was ready for him to know what real whipping means. I am simply the best at showing a boy the true meaning of the word ‘punishment,’” boasted Whip.

“Hah!” sneered the cane. But the other implements told her to stop interrupting.

“The Lord took me up, handling me perfectly.” He told Lucas: 

‘I should have trained you sooner’” 

“The Lord whipped me suddenly through the air. I felt I couldn't let him down." ...

To be continued...

Forgotten Barn - part IV

Britzka & Whip story

<Previous part - Reins story>

(...) “The boy should be glad that he wasn't dealing with me!” said the whip. “If I had given him as many lashes as you, Reins, he wouldn’t have been able to crawl home.”

“We all have our talents,” the reins stated quietly.

Unimpressed, Bullwhip continued. “I was busy elsewhere.  It’s always been up to me to punish the most fractious farmworkers.”

The cane broke back in. “Both of you are good at punishing the boys.  But for you it was an extra job. For me, it has always been my only task. The Lord took me everywhere. We were inseparable. I accompanied him all over the world. Think about your entire careers. How many strokes have you given; How many have I?  Pfff.  There’s no comparison.”

“Quality over quantity,” answered the bullwhip condescendingly. “Who took care of Lucas’ back? Any guesses why he was always walking around shirtless?”

“Ah, Luke,” said Cane dreamily. “I have always wanted to thrash him!”.

“And we got in touch… literally,” boasted Whip. “I believe the wedding of Miss Martha is burned into him for the rest of his life,” 

“For sure,” laughed the britzka.

“Tell us, tell us!” came a chorus of voices. Most knew what had happened at the wedding, but after years of being together in the lonely barn, they never tired of each other’s stories.

Britzka loved to be the center of attention. “I was once very beautiful. But that was a long time ago. When I was young and shapely, I moved with grace and vitality. I swayed so quietly and evenly that passengers felt like they were floating on water rather than traveling a stony road. For the wedding day, I was specially prepared, cleaned, and festooned with flowers.”

Whip grunted dismissively.

Britzka ignored him and continued. “Oh yes. I was pulled by Perlino, a handsome young horse. He was inexperienced, but the Landlord needed a light-colored horse for the wedding. We arrived at the bride’s house. My passenger went in to visit the lady and left me in Lucas’ care. This young man had served our master for a short time before working for the bride’s family. He was stubborn, arrogant, and rather lazy.”

“He hadn’t meet me yet,” bragged the whip.

“Shhh” interjected Reins. “Let Britzka tell her story.”

“First,” continued the carriage indignantly, “the young man decided to take me for a joyride with his comrades instead of waiting for my passenger to return. Lucas used a whip to hurry the young horse. Perlino was shocked by the unkind treatment. He reared and whinnied. The rogues argued and finally unhooked the horse from me. One of Lucas’ companions tried to calm the poor animal and mount him, but then Lucas purposely gave the horse a shot with the whip. Scared, Perlino threw the unlucky rider and bolted.”

“Just then Martha appeared with the wedding guests. The farmhands rushed to control the situation, all except Lucas of course. Our Master must have seen the whole thing because he had already appeared red in the face and looking like he was close to exploding. I guess he was holding back for the sake of the bride.”

“Lucas stood brazenly and didn't even bow his head. All the other carriages in the wedding procession were ready except me. Everyone was waiting. Several offered our Landlord a lift. He thanked them and said he would manage to get to the church on his own.” 

“The Landlord glowered at Lucas as the caravan of carriages moved away leaving the two men facing each other”.

“With an impudent tone of voice, Lucas said he could catch Perlino quickly.”

“‘Catch?’ huffed the Landlord, ‘Stupid boy! He is probably halfway home by now. But fortunately, we have another foal right here. Take off your shirt!’ He ordered.”

“Surprised, but realizing the trouble he was in, Lucas slowly stripped to the waist. Deftly, the Landlord harnessed Lucas to replace Perlino and transformed the young man into a workhorse. He took the bullwhip off his belt and held it in his hand.”

“That’s me! That’s me!!”  Interrupted the whip.

“Shhh!!!” Came several voices from around the barn.

“I am light and small,” continued Britzka, “and the young man was very well built and strong. But despite his impressive body, Lucas was not born a draft horse. He shook me with his effort to pull me, starting and stopping. It was not a good ride. Fortunately, a large part of the route was downhill. Our Lord sat on my bench and murmured, ‘If we are late, I'll skin you alive!’ My wheels rolled and rolled until we reached the hill…”

Bullwhip could not control himself.  Fearing britzka would focus on irrelevant details he took over. “The wheels of the britzka were rolling, rolling, and I’m waiting in master’s hand for the bastard to slow down. We're going up the hill and I have to admit that I was impressed with Lucas's strength. He flexed his muscles under the strain, which only emphasized his fine broad shoulders and naturally sculpted abs. As he began the ascent, I could feel the hand of the master tighten on my hilt. ‘Gee up!’ I hear. I knew immediately what to do. Whizzzz and I landed on the boy's back. He groaned in surprise, and we accelerated.”

“The Lord lashed him a few times on his back,” continued Bullwhip, “but unfortunately, although he had no shirt, the ropes tied between Britzka and the horse collar got in the way, so I failed to deliver my most effective lashes. I couldn’t fully show what I can do.  Nevertheless, we arrived at the church on time.”

“A bad workman always blames his tools,” jeered Cane.

The whip ignored her and continued his story. “Lucas pulled up outside the church.  His fear somewhat dissipated, he removed the horse collar and let it fall to the ground. He leaned against the wall and tried to charm him with his cynical roguish smile. He kept his back to the wall not wanting to show the few, admittedly mediocre marks I had drawn.”

“I was shocked when our Lord coiled me up and handed me over to the boy saying, ‘Go back to the manor. If the horse has not returned, find him. You will wait for my return. This whip is your new best friend. He and your back will meet again soon.’”

“Lucas’ face paled. He solemnly nodded his understanding of what awaited him.”

“Suddenly the bride appeared.  Approaching us, I was truly afraid that she was coming to the rescue the boy and ask her uncle for mercy because of her wedding. Instead, she merely smiled. Looking at Lucas's bare chest but addressing the Landlord she said, ‘The whipping post is waiting for you, Uncle.’”

“I've always said that Miss Martha is a prudent, smart creature,” laughed the britzka.

<Next part - Bullwhip story>

Many thanks to Strictop for improving the text.

Forgotten Barn - part III

 

Reins story

<Previous part - Forgotten Barn - part II>

"Our master passionately loved harsh discipline, hard labour, public nudity, and especially corporal punishment. He punished his farmworkers in many exotic ways. He loved to feast his eyes on their strong broad backs and naked asses. And when that ass or back was nicely reddened, he was in heaven!”

“Oh, this is my idea of heaven as well,” said Cane. “You won’t believe what I have experienced with our master. I can’t count how many times he tied up thieves, farmworkers, and army cadets and forced them to bend over. That’s when I came into action. There were many screams, moans, and cries when I was doing my work. They all got what they deserved.  The Master spared no one. Some boys wept after only the third stroke.  Others pretended to be brave and tough, but in the end they all begged for mercy. I don't remember any young man whom I couldn't break. Whether their asses were hairy and muscular or smooth and firm, they all faced the same fate… Me!”

“So true,” Reins chimed in from his place hanging on the wall. “The Master would also use me from time to time, and when we got to work, the sound of lashes on the bare buttocks and back echoed all over the village. So many times the Master unhooked us from the bridle and swung us neatly over a lifted ass. In addition to the crack of leather, there were often suppressed moans and sometimes even crying as we slashed across a sorry lad’s tight skin again and again. We left beautiful red stripes from the back to the thighs. You should see young Sam, son of a leatherworker from the village”.

“I know the lad,” said Cane. "I wish I could  have given the arrogant young man a lesson in manners. What did he do this time?” Cane asked, a little saddened that she wasn’t the only one punishing boys so effectively. She never thought that Whip and Reins had such a significant role in training naughty farm rednecks.  She used to believe that she was unique.

“He robbed our farmer,” Reins revealed.

“Wow!” exclaimed Cane. “The punishment for robbery is one of the worst! I could feel how angry our Lord was while he used me once before on a thief’s buttocks. That caning seemed to go on forever!” Cane warmed with the memory.

 Reins made a small noise of agreement and continued their story. “We were traveling along the dirt road with the hayrack wagon. Suddenly, the Master pulls us up sharply to stop the horses and dashes into the orchard. After a while, he emerged from the trees dragging Sam by the ear. He brought him over to the carriage and told him to strip. The Lord bound his wrist and tossed the other end of the rope over a branch so high that the thief had to stand on his toes. He released us from the bridle and then used us to whip him properly on the back and butt.”

“How much did he get?” asked the whip with obvious interest.

“We do not know,” replied Reins. “About a hundred and fifty lashes or more; We lost count. Before the punishment was even halfway through the writhing boy pleaded with our Master to stop.  He was crying like a child and pulling himself up trying to escape from our punishment. But Lord just continued whipping him making him scream and twist his bound body against the rope." 

“Master really hates thievery,” agreed Cane. “I can just imagine how much energy he put into the punishment.” 

“Absolutely right,” said Reins. “It was intense!  And when it was all over, the young man was left dangling from the tree. The master told him that his red ass and wounded body would be an excellent example for others. That’s how Sam ended up."

“Oh! That wasn’t the end of his torment,” exclaimed Cane excitedly. “Before his father came and took him down, all workers on their way to the mill saw his naked body hanging vulnerable and broken. The old leatherworker even gave him a few more smacks for good measure when he got him home. I know because I was visiting his workshop with our Master and I heard the conversation.” 

“Oh Sam. What am I going to do with you?” Cane imitated a tearful leatherworker’s voice. 

Then, mimicking the Lord’s voice, Cane cried, “Spank the young brat and keep spanking him. It’s the only way!” 

“Our Master then gave his friend some ideas for using the various leather implements lying around the shop to discipline the boy. The old leatherworker called the boy over and ordered him to strip again.”

“Bend over and grab your ankles, boy!”

“Trembling, Sam did as he was told,” continued Cane. “I got really excited seeing his exposed red buttocks, but I didn’t get to touch them. Together, our Master and his friend tested several leather implements on his raw cheeks. With every hit, the boy jumped and cried, ‘Please, Daddy, no more!’ Wanting to impress the Lord, the father ignored his son’s pleas and continued to punish him harshly. With an evil glint in his eyes, Master asked Sam which tool he would most like to avoid. The stupid boy picked up the tawse. It was the implement that hurt the most. Master said ‘From now on, this will be your nemesis.’ He nodded at the old man who spanked him with it until the boy was fully in tears.” Cane paused, savoring the memory.

“Tawse later boasted that after his performances Sam could not sit down. And I believe it’s true. Tawse is a very talented tool. But of course nowhere near as effective as I!” boasted Cane.

“The boy should be glad that he wasn't dealing with me!” said the whip. “If I had given him as many lashes as you, Reins, he wouldn’t have been able to crawl home.”

“We all have our talents,” the reins stated quietly.

Next part - Britzka & Whip

Forgotten Barn - part II

Plow story

<Part I: Cane story>

(...) 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.

“So what!” said the whip scornfully. “I haven’t been exactly idle myself. When I arrived on this farm, I wondered what I was going to do here. The master's inventory was rather poor, which is no surprise out here in the middle of nowhere! Nevertheless, the Lord found the perfect job to suit my talents. Cane, you only dealt with the farmhands’ butts, but I dealt with the entire male person, especially the backs. I often wrapped myself around the muscular bodies. I used to paint such beautiful red patterns on their naked flesh. It's not easy to punishment accurately when you are as long as I am. But in the right hands my length makes each stroke feel three times more painful. Never underestimate the power of The Whip!”

“That is so true,” said Plow thoughtfully. “Our master was just but cruel. I often saw him carrying Whip at his side. I remember young Matt, who failed to show up for ploughing time that day. Our Owner was furious that he had left a part of the field unploughed. The next morning, I was waiting, ready for work, and what did I see? Matt led by the neck by our Lord! As they approached, the Lord told him angrily, ‘It's your field to plough. It must always be done before dusk. I assure you that you are going to remember what happens when you don't finish your work. Clearly you are going to need extra supervision.’ He told Matt to strip. That's when Whip showed me what he could do”.

“I remember it well,” said Whip. “The young man was chained shirtless to you.” Whip was getting excited. “The Lord watched carefully as the beautiful young man labored all day. To make him work faster, the Master used me to adorn his back with lashes! Every time Plow passed within my range, I landed with a terrible crack on Matt’s back. The boy was helpless to avoid the lashes.”

“Hah," laughed Plow. “He was so frightened every time he had to pass the Master's seat. As much as possible, Matt tried to stay out of Whip’s range, but it was no use. Every time he passed, the lash landed across his body with deadly accuracy. He pulled me with all his strength trying to move as fast as possible, but it only made him sweatier and more exhausted. With each blow, he arched his back in pain. Stopping only resulted in more lashes. The air carried his screams across the entire valley. At the end of the day, Matt looked terrible: grimy, glistening with sweat, totally exhausted, and of course covered with bloody welts. I felt so lucky. I had never been so close to a man’s corporal punishment before, and I was proud that I got to play a part in teaching this boy the value of hard work.” With that, Plow ended his story.

“So that’s it?” chided Haystack. “Not such a big deal if you can only recall one story.  Our master passionately loved harsh discipline, hard labour, public nudity, and especially corporal punishment. Women did not interest him at all. He punished his farmworkers in many exotic ways. He loved to feast his eyes on their strong broad backs and naked asses. And when that ass or back was nicely reddened, he was in heaven!”

<Reins tell their story in part III>

Thanks to Strictop for improving the text.

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>