There’s nothing like rural “justice”, especially when you try to run away from a small town jail and the pervert local sheriff:
She was trying to convince herself that they were going to forget her attempt to flee. Cyrus had a smile that made her hope for good news. It turned out to only be good for him.
“Sometimes you got to get to the seat of a problem afore you can drive a point home,” he said as he reached around her to unbutton the towel around her waist.
She was already handcuffed to the bars of her cell above the cross bar over her head. It didn’t pull her up, but it did insure she couldn’t move far away. Now she was naked from the undershirt down and Amy knew something horrible was coming.
Her guesses had not wandered far enough to encompass the stinging crack of a wide leather strap across her buttocks. She jumped forward against the bars hard enough to bruise herself.
“You better hold on to them bars or you’ll beat yourself to death afore I’m through,” Cyrus advised.
He wanted that pleasure for himself, Amy thought as the belt landed again after a short pause. Then there was no pause between the blistering slaps of pain and Amy held the bars tight to help herself bear the blows.
She was screaming before Cyrus stopped. Hot tears streamed down her cheeks and she begged him not to hit her any more. She was still anticipating a late blow when she felt a hand rub over her burning butt.
“You strapped her good,” she heard Billy Bob say. “Feel how hot her rear end is. I betcha that’s going to be real sore for a time.”
“It should be, after she tried to run off.” Cyrus said…
From Law and Orders by W R Jenkins.
