Welcome to Gayberry

Welcome to Gayberry – 55

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55

As much as he hated to, the sheriff knew he had allowed some paper work to pile up on his desk and decided to go and attack that. He was actually looking forward to some quiet office time with the chattering idiot deputy manning the service station glory hole, so he went back to the jail. The mayor's wife appeared to be sleeping on her cot so Randy was very quiet so as not to awaken her. He sat down and began to attack the pile of papers on his desk when he heard the door open. It was a man he didn't recognize and a woman who looked vaguely familiar.

"Good morning, sheriff," the man said. "I'm Elder Hunt from the Church of the Last Days with Signs Following and this young lady is my pastor's wife, Mrs. Beverly Smith."

The reverend's wife looked much more respectable today, in her long dress with long sleeves, which came up to her neck. No skin was exposed other than her face and she even wore gloves. Elder Hunt appeared to be in his mid to late forties and was an attractive man who was well-dressed in a dark suit, dress shirt and tie. The man's clothes looked expensive and he was not a man the sheriff would have imagined might have shown an interest in the reverend's evangelical church in the woods. Randy asked the pair what brought them to the court house and the man reported that they were concerned when their pastor had not shown up at church for services on Sunday. Mrs. Smith remained silent as Elder Hunt had explained the situation.

"Elder Hunt, I am very pleased to meet you" the sheriff said. "I was, as a matter of fact, at the reverend's home on a couple of occasions within the last week. I have to wonder if Mrs. Smith somehow has forgotten those occasions or if she thought dressing up like a lady somehow I might not recognize her. I find it strange that you folks are just now getting in here to report his absence from church on Sunday. Today is Tuesday. How long has your husband been missing, Mrs. Smith?"

She looked at the elder as if seeking his permission to speak. He nodded, almost imperceptibly.

"My husband went hunting with his brother last Thursday. That is not unusual. He and his brother love hunting and go often. It is just something they grew up doing and they both love being outdoors. I assumed he and his brother just lost track of time when he was not at church on Sunday but the elders felt something might be amiss."

"Would that have been after I brought your daughter home naked after I caught her fucking the reverend's brother or after I brought her home naked after trying to whore herself to those three boys from Alabama down at t he Butter Cup Motel? I didn't want to interrupt you on that second occasion as it sounded as if someone was getting a terrific blowjob in your bedroom. I assume that since your husband had already left on his hunting trip that it was not the good reverend encouraging you to keep on sucking his cock. I suppose your brother in law must have left on his hunting trip immediately after I released him after catching him with his dick in your underage daughter."

"Sir, I object to your language in front of my pastor's dear wife" Elder Hunt said, rising from his chair.

"Sit back down, elder, I'm just saying exactly what happened "the sheriff said. The elder sat back down, looking upset.

"None of the things you have said bear any resemblance to the truth" Mrs. Smith said. "My daughter is a virgin and a paragon of virtue. She sets an example for all the girls in our congregation, just as Elder Hunt's son does for the boys. I can't imagine why you are making up all these terrible things and using such deplorable language in my presence. I have never heard such and I am beginning to wonder if this may be part of a deep plot to discredit those of us who are worshippers of the true Lord and Savior. My husband has preached against letting our lives be controlled by the government. The state wants to exalt the Negro and abort white babies. My dear husband has been a faithful preacher of the word for all of his flock."

"Amen" the elder added piously.

"I f you want us to begin looking for your husband, I'll need you to fill out some paperwork. I'll require your addresses, a description of the missing person and some other information" the sheriff said.

"You'll get none of that from either of us" the elder said. "I will not provide any personal information which you can use against me. The same goes for Mrs. Smith. I feel it is my duty to look out for this woman in the absence of her dear, dear husband just as the reverend would do for my family in the event I went missing, God forbid."

"Yes, God forbid" Mrs. Smith echoed.

"Why would I want to do anything against you, elder?" the sheriff asked. "You and Mrs. Smith are the ones who came here asking the state for help. Why could I possibly want to do anything to hurt you in any way? The only way that could happen is if something bad were going on at your church. Is that a possibility? Are things going on in the church that you wouldn't want to come to light? Am I onto something here, because I just saw beads of sweat pop out on your forehead, elder Hunt? Why don't you tell me about what goes on there? Could it be the reason the church recently had its altar table stolen because bad things happened on that table? Why don't you tell me your thoughts about that, Elder Hunt."

He stood up immediately, wiping the sweat from his brow.

"We are finished here, Mrs. Smith" Elder Hunt said. "This man has no intention of helping to find your husband. He is obviously a hater of the faithful followers of our Lord He is clearly an unbeliever who has no interest in making Gayberry or America great again.."

"Elder, I'd like to ask you one more question before you leave" the sheriff said. "Has anything bad ever happened on that altar table that got stolen out of your church? That's not a hard question, elder. I'm sure you can answer that one."

"Your questions are impertinent and inappropriate and I will not tolerate this behavior" the elder said. "You can bet I will be filing a complaint on you with the mayor and you may very well lose your badge over this."

"Good luck with that, elder" the sheriff chuckled. "By the way, elder, do you have a son whose name is Michael? Are you and your son close, elder?"

"My family is absolutely none of your business, Sheriff Gaylor! We are done here, Beverly," the elder said, putting his hand on the small of the preacher's wife's back and guiding her toward the door.

"You better watch out where the elder puts his hand on you" the sheriff said. "He'll be droppin' it a little lower and grabbin' that round ass of yours if he ain't already tried. You can bet he'll be wantin' his Christian cock sucked on after hearin' how good you are at it. I bet that ain't somethin' he gets from Mrs. Hunt! I assure you that both of you will be hearing from me on this investigation."

They left, slamming the door behind them so hard that the windows in the building rattled. Randy went and poured himself another cup of coffee, returning to his desk. He tried to focus on the work but found his mind drifting. He could not get the image of young Kurt on that altar table, screaming and begging his father and his uncle to stop what they were doing to him. He was determined to find out if other boys had been treated the same way. He gave up on the paperwork and decided to head out and have another look at Jack Smith's house. When he had been there with Kurt, it appeared the furniture had been moved but the sheriff remembered there were personal effects and clothing left in the closets. He went directly there. He pulled the squad car into the front yard, parking it in the shade of a large oak tree. The house was not locked so he went in. All the furniture was gone from the living room and dining room. He went into the master bedroom, where there remained a small table, which he assumed had been used as a bedside table. The top drawer was empty but in the bottom drawer he found several dildoes of different sizes. One was a very large black plastic dildo with large bumps all over it. Randy had trouble imagining how anyone could enjoy the toy being used on them as it was very fat and the entire surface was covered in bumps. He found a couple of partially used tubes of lubricant but nothing else significant. Going into the closet, he found a few women's clothes but it appeared Mrs. Smith had taken most of her clothing. All of Jack's clothing was still there, tightly hung in the small space. After removing several things, the sheriff found two klan robes. Both were clean and appeared pressed and ready to wear. On a shelf of the closet, he found two klan hoods. All of these, he laid out on the small table, folding and preparing to take them with him. In the bathroom, he found several girly mags, some of them depicting women being treated violently but most with naked women holding their private parts spread open. They were under some contact paper. Apparently the man kept them hidden there for his jacking pleasure. The rest of the house revealed nothing further so he left and drove to the Print home. In Mr. Print's closet, he found three more klan robes and hoods, which he took with him. Mr. Print had a stash of girly mags in his bedside table and a stash of nudist magazines under his mattress depicting naked men, women, and children. The sheriff found those particularly interesting and took those with him as well. In the basement, he found some more violent porn, mostly picture of young naked boys and girls being tied up and tortured. He also found a ping pong table with balls and paddles. He decided to take several of the paddles with him as he felt they could be useful.

Randy then decided to make a run by his old home to see how Eliza was doing with the two women. He actually was itching to try out the ping pong paddles on their butts. He had an extra lilt in his step as he went into his house, finding Eliza sitting in t he living room reading a magazine. She greeted him warmly.

"Looks like you're having a nice, leisurely day" the sheriff said. "Where's them bitches?"

I have them both back in the laundry room" Eliza chuckled. "I have them washing the bed linens daily on every bedroom in the house. They both bitched about it but a switch on their bare legs shut them both up fast. When they finish the laundry, I'm thinkin' I may take them down to the hotel to deliver the clothing you sent over from Mrs. Bedford's house. I was hoping you might drop by to see what I needed to do to keep from setting off alarms from their ankle bracelets."

"I'll take care of that" Randy said. "I think it might be fun for them to walk down there, carrying the suitcases while we ride behind them in the squad car. We might even turn on the siren to attract more attention."

They shared a laugh at that. Aunt Flea came out, her arms loaded with sheets and towels, headed upstairs.

"Oh, Randy, I didn't know you were here" Aunt Flea said, flustered. "I'll bring these up later."

She turned to return to the laundry room.

"You go ahead and bring them up right this minute" Eliza said. "Their uniforms are being laundered so they are both naked, sheriff. I hope you don't mind."

"Oh, Randy," Aunt Flea said, starting to cry, "I can't be running around here with no clothes at all in front of you. It just isn't the way Christians behave. We both know that. Isn't it time for you to stop this nonsense. You know Tara nor I would ever hurt a flea. You have to know that.""

"What we both know is that Christians don't go around burning crosses and burnin' down communities and hirin' hit men to kill young boys" the sheriff said, a steely edge in his voice that frightened his aunt . " Don't you even think about startin' up that preachin'' bullshit with me. Take that shit upstairs and then get that fat ass right back down here. And make it snappy, bitch!"

She started moving quickly, fearing an angry Randy. When she returned, she was attempting to use her arms and hands to cover her pendulous breasts and her crotch. The sheriff and Eliza laughed at her which was further humiliating for the woman who had always worked so hard at being dignified at all times.

"Eliza, if you would be so kind, please get that other bitch in here. I don't want her to miss this" the sheriff said, motioning for Flea to get across his knees, exposing her bare, white ass to him.

She started to cry quietly. This further pissed the sheriff off and he told her to stop it or she would regret it. He started to hit her meaty butt cheeks with a ping pong paddle, which made a loud slapping sound with each lick. Eliza returned with Mrs. Bedford. Randy motioned to grab the other paddle and Eliza instructed Mrs. Bedford to get over her knees, exposing her own scrawny white butt. Eliza started to spank the ass with a vengeance, clearly enjoying a bit of retribution. Mrs. Bedford remained silent, refusing to complain or show any distress. Both the women's butt cheeks gradually turned a bright red and the spanking continued. As Mrs. Bedford's cheeks got redder, she suddenly stood up and attempted to grab the paddle from Eliza. She got the paddle and was about to strike the black woman when Randy grabbed her arm. He had dumped Aunt Flea off his lap and sent her sprawling in the floor before grabbing the arm which he now had wrenched behind the angry woman's back.

"Bitch, I been waitin' for you to pull some shit like this" the sheriff said as he twisted the arm behind her. "Give me one reason I shouldn't snap your fuckin' arm. It would be easy and I'd enjoy the sound of it crackin'. Just give me an excuse to break it, bitch. Come on, just say a fuckin' word!"

She glared at him until he released her, pushing her onto the sofa nearby.

"Randy, leave her alone "Aunt Flea began. "You know Tara's my dearest friend. I'm tired of this behavior from you. I know I didn't raise you to behave like this!""

"You need some new fuckin' friends" the sheriff said. "I've tried to tell you but you just wouldn't listen. It's too late now for you to even try to change. Go get them goddamned clothes you found on the porch this mornin' and get a move on it."

The two women went up the stairs and were momentarily back, struggling with two large suitcases which were obviously heavy to carry. They placed the luggage on the sofa and Randy opened it. It was packed with clothing.

"Mrs. Bedford, I probably should apologize for hurting your arm" the sheriff said. "I'm feelin' really bad knowin' how easy I could've snapped that frail little arm of yours. I'm gonna make it up to you though. I want you to pick out your ten favorite dresses out of them bags. I think I'll let you keep the ones you really love."

Mrs. Bedford looked pleased, as if she had won this round in the battle with the sheriff. She and Flea fussed over things, putting them in different stacks and going back and forth in deciding on the favorites. They eventually narrowed it down and the sheriff told them to go and put on their uniforms. They disappeared and returned quickly, dressed in the ridiculously ill-fitting maid costumes, which were all freshly cleaned and pressed. While they were gone, the sheriff and Eliza packed the remaining outfits back in the bags.

"Okay, each of you needs to grab an armful of them outfits" the sheriff said. "You're gonna carry them down to the hotel and give the ladies living there the choices of your favorite outfits."

"You goddamnd son of a bitch!" Mrs. Bedford spat. "You piece of shit lying asshole! Flea, how did you raise such a worthless lying bastard?"

"Now, Tara, you know I don't approve of his actions, but you need to watch your language as well" Aunt Flea said. "A potty mouth is as unattractive on a lady as it is on a sheriff. You need to stop that right now!"

"Don't you worry about my fuckin' language, bitch!" Mrs. Bedford said. "You raised a worthless heathen and a liar!"

"The boys you raised aren't exactly running back to Gayberry and rushing to your defense are they, dear?" Aunt Flea asked sarcastically. "Instead, they've completely deserted you and given your house, your business, and everything you own over to my lying asshole of a nephew."

"Fuck you, Flea!" Mrs. Bedford said. "At least I gave birth to three sons" Mrs. Bedford bragged. "That's more than you ever did. You've never even been able to find a man to rub that fat cunt of yours all over. You're just jealous. You've chased every dick in this county and you run them all off by getting so clingy. All the men in town know to avoid you because if you give them some pussy, you expect them to propose marriage before their dicks even get dry!"

"Well, you're certainly changing your tune now, aren't you, dear?" Aunt Flea asked sweetly. "That's not exactly the story you told me when you had your tongue inside me, telling me I tasted sweeter than honey. If I recollect, you told me that none of those boys could ever make my pussy feel better with their cocks than you could with your tongue!"

"Stop it, Flea!" Mrs. Bedford shouted. "Stop it right now. I told you things that I had never shared with anyone else and I thought you would keep my secrets. How disappointing that you were never the friend I thought you were."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Tara" Aunt Flea said. "I never meant to give anything away I shouldn't have."

"Aunt Flea, you need to finish what you were saying" the sheriff said. "What was it she told you while y'all were doin' your cunt lappin' or whatever it is a couple of old lesbos do after the lights go out? I demand you tell me right this instant."

"I'm sorry, Randy" Aunt Flea said. "I've already said too much. Tara is, after all, my dearest friend in the world."

"Oh, you'll give it up" the sheriff said. "That's a fucking promise. I will find out every nasty thing and ever criminal thing she's ever done, even if it takes me the rest of my life. Now you bitches get an armload of clothes and get to movin'. Eliza and I will be right behind you in the squad car all the way to the hotel. And if you ain't movin' as fast as I think you should, I'll start blowin' the horn and crankin' up the siren top make sure ever'body in this town comes out on their porch to see you stupid bitches."

Mrs. Bedford was glaring silently while Aunt Flea was in tears. Not only was her butt still burning from the severe spanking but she was utterly humiliated at the thought of being forced to walk down Main Street in the middle of the day barely covered by the tiny uniform. She had always been a proud woman. Now she felt utterly humiliated. The sheriff and Eliza got into the squad car and Randy turned on the siren. He rolled down his window so he could shout at the women who were sadly comical as they struggled to keep ahead of the car.

"Move it, bitches!"he shouted above the sound of the siren.

The women were scurrying, trying to avoid the front of the car and trying to avoid falling onto the pavement. Both women were loaded with clothing which required both arms to carry.

"That woman keeps referring to a bunch of costume jewelry" the sheriff said. "What is she talkin' about there?"

"Oh, she has a ton of costume jewelry" Eliza said. "Those things are not usually very expensive unless they're designer pieces. She kept her costume jewelry in the closet with her clothes. But the good stuff is in the safe. I know she had some really expensive jewelry because she would make her husband buy it for her. That poor, poor man. There's no telling what he spent on that woman. She has any number of diamond and emerald earrings, bracelets and necklaces in that safe and I think the even more expensive stuff is in a lock box at the bank."

"I guess I better be a little more careful" the sheriff said. "I don't think I even closed that safe after we found the mayor's wife going through it. I know she didn't take anything out and I saw a bunch of cash. I need to go by and secure it. Apparently Mrs. Bedford gave the mayor's wife the combination because it was definitely open."

"Yes, sheriff" Eliza said. "You might want to be a tad more careful about that" she chuckled. "The good jewelry has to be worth thousands and thousands of dollars."

The siren was attracting attention all the way to the hotel. People would look out of their windows to see what the commotion was about and laughing at the site of the two women trying to stay ahead of the squad car with the siren running and lights flashing. When they reached the hotel. Aunt Flea collapsed on the sidewalk in front of the building. She was panting for breath while Tara glared at her.

"Get up, Flea" Tara Bedford commanded. "Stop letting that asshole see you being so weak! That's exactly what the bastard wants."

"Shut up, Tara!" Aunt Flea screamed. "Just shut your goddamned mouth. You're the reason all of this is going on in my life. You've ruined my life. Just ruined it. I used to be a respected woman in this town and now I'm a laughing stock. And it's all your fault. I wish I'd never met you."

"Hey, Aunt Flea, I think you're bein' too hard on your friend" the sheriff said. "You brought a whole lot of this on yourself just by keepin' your fuckin trap shut when you knew that wrong things were happenin'. I saw how you treated my friend, the warden, when I brought him to lunch at our house. I ain't never been so ashamed of you as that day. You're just as vile as she is cause you stood by and said nothin'." Now get your fat, lazy ass off of that sidewalk and get your ass inside this fuckin' hotel."

They walked in and were met by Jeffrie. He was as friendly as ever.

"Jeffrie, we've bought a few frocks some of the ladies here might enjoy" the sheriff said. "I think there are some nice things here if the women don't mind wearin' things that have been worn by a stinkin' nasty-assed skunk of a woman."

Jeffrie brought out a couple of hanging racks and assisted Randy and Eliza with hanging the garments. Tara Bedford continued to glare at them with hatred in her eyes. Eliza began to call a few friends she knew who were currently residing in the hotel and they began to wander into the lobby to look at the new clothing. All were friendly to the sheriff and to Eliza, greeting them both with warm hugs. As the ladies looked through her favorite clothes, Mrs. Bedford looked angrier than ever. Randy thought she was on the verge of blowing but she managed to stay in control.

"Okay, bitches, go and get in the squad car" the sheriff chuckled. "You've both made spectacles of yourselves enough for one day. We'll let you ride in the back seat goin'home but you better behave yourselves and don't be grabbing each other's pussies. It ain't date night."

Eliza and Randy enjoyed a good laugh over that line. Instead of going straight to his old home, he took a soft turn to the right and pulled up before the Bedford home where Mrs. Bedford had lived until Randy moved in.

"Ahhh, my beautiful home" Mrs. Bedford said as Randy pulled into the circular driveway.

"Wrong, bitch. It's my beautiful home now. You bitches stay here with Eliza" the sheriff instructed. "I'll be back in just a second. Eliza, if either one of `em makes a move to leave this car, use this."

He handed her a cattle prod which could deliver strong electrical shocks. Eliza giggled as she took t he instrument from the sheriff.

"I do hope one of `em moves" Eliza said with a laugh.

Randy was gone only about five minutes. He returned to the squad car, started it up and drove the rest of the way back to his old house with no further discussion. Once inside, Randy ordered the women to fix him some lunch for him and for Eliza. He had not taken time to eat since breakfast and he was really getting quite hungry.

"Why don't you fix a couple of them nice club sandwiches with turkey and ham and all the trimmins for Eliza and me?" he suggested. "And maybe some chips and a pickle and a nice cold glass of tea. And get to it unless both of you want to feel them paddles on your asses again. Only make sure you don't serve us none of them pickles Aunt Flea made. As a matter of fact, make sure there ain't a one of them things left in this house. They tasted like kerosene. And make it fast or I'll take that ping pong paddle to them naked asses again."

Neither wanted that so they scurried out to fix plates for Eliza and Randy. Once they were gone, Randy handed Eliza a small velvet box. When she opened it, inside was a pair of sparkling diamond earrings. Eliza squealed softly.

"I hope you'll accept these as a gift, Eliza" the sheriff said.

"Oh, sheriff, I never dreamed I'd get to wear real diamonds like this" she said.

"You aren't just wearin' `em, Eliza, the sheriff said. "They're yours. It's a small gift to say thank you for puttin' up with all the bullshit these two are handin' you ever' day."

"It's a joyous duty for me" Eliza said. "I was hoping we might get a chance to talk outside their presence. When they were arguing about the secrets today, I think I may have a clue what they were referring to. Mr. Bedford, rest his sainted soul, was felling a little low one night after another argument with Mrs. Bedford. It was after she stopped allowing him in the main house at all when he said something to me and Grover that he might not ever have even consummated the marriage. He didn't say much but I think he'd had a couple of beers. He referred to her as the coldest woman in the world. He said to Grover how he had longed to know what it was like to make love to a woman but how he'd probably never know. One thing I do know is that Mrs. Bedford never looked pregnant. She'd cancel any events she had on her calendar before she was due to give birth and keep to herself. Grover and me suspected that she never gave birth to any of them boys but that her husband somehow found the babies and brought them home. I have no proof but Mr. Bedford was a meticulous record-keeper. If it's true, there's bound to be a record somewhere."

Eliza had been speaking softly so the women couldn't hear them. As Flea and Tara began bringing food to the table, they both took seats at the table. When Randy held the chair for Eliza, both the white women glared at him with sheer hatred. When Mrs. Bedford spotted the diamond earrings on Eliza's ears, she exploded.

"What in the living hell are you doing in my diamond earrings" she yelled. "I'll kill any nigger bitch wearing my diamonds! Those were a gift from my dear, dear husband! I'll pull your motherfucking monkey ears right off of your monkey head!"

Mrs. Bedford then collapsed into the floor.

"Get the fuck off the floor, bitch," the sheriff said. "Get up right now or I'll go get that cattle prod and if you think I ain't tellin' the truth, just try me. That prod up your nasty cunt will get you up fast enough, you fuckin' drama queen."

Mrs. Bedford got up from the floor instantly. Randy and Eliza sat down and enjoyed their lunch while Flea and Tara stayed in the kitchen. "I don't trust them bitches when they're quiet" the sheriff chuckled. "Don't you take a minute's worth of shit from either one of them. I'm thinkin' about what I've heard today. If somethin' hinky was goin' on with the Bedford children, there must be a record of it. I've just got to dig deeper."

"If I had to guess, I'd say it would probably be in the guest house where Mr. Bedford lived most of their married life. He spent a lot of time in there alone. All the time I was there, I never saw her go in there once. And she didn't let the boys go in there either once they started school. Sheriff, I ain't one to gossip. I think gossipin' can be real hurtful. If I hear something, I don't repeat it unless I can verify it. But there's something I heard the week before Mr. Bedford died. We had a butter and egg man who came to the house once a week. The week before Mr. Bedford was found drowned in that swimmin' pool, he ask me what my high and mighty boss thought of the fact her husband was leaving her. I probably should have told someone, sheriff, but I didn't have any evidence that it was true and that butter and egg man never showed up at the house again. Still it's been gnawing at me all these years. I feel like a burden's been lifted off my shoulders just telling you about it."

"I understand why you stayed quiet" Randy said. "I don't blame you at all. You did what you had to do to survive. Mr. Bedford is like a jigsaw puzzle. I've just got to put the pieces together.'

Aunt Flea came in to clear the table and pour them some coffee.

"Where's your bitch buddy?" Randy asked.

"Language, Randy" Aunt Flea said. "She's in the kitchen trying to recover from the horrible morning you put us through. Your actions were despicable. No one should be treated in that manner."

"Shut your fuckin' mouth and get used to it, bitch!. The last person I want to hear a lecture from is you, you self-righteous cunt. You bitches better get back to work" Randy said. "Eliza tells me you got three boarders who moved in here. You better keep their asses happy in every way or there'll be hell to pay. Eliza, I'm gonna leave one of these ping pong paddles here for you. Feel free to use it and offer it to your guests to use if they're so inclined."

Before leaving, Randy ordered the two women to make a bagful of ham sandwiches, planning to take them by the dungeon later.

Randy went by the jail and things were quiet there. The mayor's wife was napping in her cell and the sheriff still didn't feel like hitting the paperwork. He went by to see how the doctor and Kurt and Rafe were doing at the clinic. They welcomed him. The sheriff couldn't believe the condition the clinic had been left in. Most of the furniture had been destroyed and there were nasty epithets sprayed on the walls. The boys and Doc were working hard, already beginning the painting of the interior walls. Doc reported they had already placed orders for new furniture for the reception area and new exam tables and furnishings for the examination rooms. The doctor said much of the damage appeared to have been intentional and he couldn't understand why the doctors had been so angry. It was obvious that more had gone on than the mayor had been willing to tell the sheriff and Randy determined to get to the bottom of things.

"I think we can be up and open in a couple of weeks, given these great helpers I have" Doctor

Foster said. "We've already made tremendous progress, given what we walked into. Kurt and Rafe found really cute little cat clocks with moving eyes and tails for all of the exam rooms. That will help keep kids distracted while they are waiting."

Randy offered to go and get lunch for them but the doctor had already taken care of that, having taken the boys to the diner for lunch. Before leaving, Randy discussed what he had learned about the Bedfords earlier in the day. Doc promised to begin to comb carefully through the desk in the office of the guest house and the boys agreed to help him.

Randy then ran by the country records office to check an address for Elder Hunt, who had been in his office earlier with Reverend Smith's wife. The address was in a very nice area a couple of miles out of town. Randy decided to drive by the home to check it out. It was a large brick rancher with a long, well-manicured driveway. The elder was obviously doing well with whatever business he was in. On a hunch, Randy then drove the couple of miles to the home of the Reverend Smith. There was a small compact car out front and a shiny blue Lincoln Town Car pulled around behind the house, almost out of view from the road. Randy wrote down the tag number for the car to check ownership, although he was fairly certain it belonged to Elder Hunt.

The sheriff then drove back to the elder's home and pulled up in front of the home. He rang the bell and the door was answered by a slightly overweight, but attractive blonde woman in workout clothes. Randy identified himself and asked if this was the home of Larry Hunt. The woman confirmed that it was indeed the home of Larry Hunt and that he drove a blue Lincoln Town Car. Mrs. Hunt invited the sheriff in for a glass of tea and Randy accepted.

"What is this about, sheriff?" the woman asked politely. "It certainly isn't everyday that law enforcement come to my home or, for that matter, any home in this neighborhood, asking questions."

"Well, the fact is that your husband was at the court house this morning to report the disappearance of his pastor, Reverend Smith" the sheriff said. "Were you aware of that?"

"No, sheriff" the woman said. "I'm afraid my husband has some religious ideas that I simply find weird. He grew up in the country and his family were all involved in a Pentecostal church. I don't buy into all of that. To be completely candid, it has caused problems in our marriage. We have been separated a number of times. He is very demanding and I have made it clear I will not tolerate that. While Larry has been quite successful in business, the truth is he came from nothing. It was my father's money that started his business and Larry knows that and he resents it. He has tried any number of times to draw a line in the sand and I have always stepped right over it. He knows I have my limits and if my dad ever demanded he repay the loans he made my husband, it would bankrupt the business. He convinced me to let our son accompany him to church for a couple of years. The boy got into it and I thought it was a healthy thing. They had a group called the Promise Keepers and at first it seemed to be a group that taught boys to take vows of marriage seriously. There's nothing wrong with that. But suddenly our son simply refused to go to the church any more. I supported Phillip and his father and I had some major battles over the fact I told his father he could leave this house if he tried forcing the boy to attend."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Mrs. Hunt" the sheriff said. "That has to be difficult for all of you."

"Yes, sheriff, it has been difficult" she said. "But I've made it clear that our son will no longer accompany my husband to church. Philip has been dealing with depression. Something happened at that church and I'd love to know what it was. But my son absolutely refuses to talk about it. He seems very angry at his father since that event and he has even encouraged me to leave his dad. I have seriously considered a divorce, but, having been raised a Catholic, that is a very difficult decision. But the truth is that my husband has not mentioned anything about the pastor's disappearance. I know he went to church on Sunday and he was quite late in returning home."

"Where is he now, Mrs. Hunt?" the sheriff asked.

"Oh, he's at his office downtown" she said. "He works late almost every night. He may not be much of a husband or a father but he's a very good provider."

"Thank you very much for talking with me, ma'am" the sheriff said. "Is your son at school?"

"Yes, sheriff," she said. "I hope he is. I told you there have been problems. He wanted to drop out but I have talked him out of that, at least for now. He often spends the night with friends. It's as if he doesn't want to be around my husband or me any more than absolutely necessary."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Mrs. Hunt" the sheriff said. "If I can be of help to you, don't hesitate to let me know. May I ask you one last question, please ma'am?"

"Why of course you can, sheriff" she said politely. "I have absolutely nothing to hide."

"Is being Catholic the only reason you stayed with your husband?" the sheriff asked. "I am a father to a wonderful boy. I love him more than anything. If my son was as unhappy as you tell me your son has been, I don't think I'd stay with anybody for any reason. Help me to understand."

"Sheriff, you seem to be a reasonable, bright individual so I'm not going to lie to you" Mrs. Hunt said. "My husband is a shitty father and not a great husband but, as I said earlier he provides well for us. There is one other thing. My husband is an exceptional lover. He pleases me completely in bed. He can do things with his mouth that make me just go over the moon. There are not that many men who enjoy that kind of thing, or so I hear from my friends. Most of the women I talk to say their husbands either have no talent for giving them oral pleasure or they have absolutely no interest in it. My husband is the exception. I told you I'd be honest and I am. I'm actually getting excited just talking about it with another man. Would you like to come back in and spend some time, sheriff? My husband has also taught me how to please him with my mouth and I'm sure I wouldn't mind doing that for you. I can see there's something nice in those khaki pants of yours and I think we could have some fun."

Mrs. Hunt, I'm very flattered but I'm afraid I can't spare the time right now" the sheriff said. "I have to get on this investigation. Perhaps another time, if that's all right."

"Any time, sheriff, she said. "Any time at all."

A plan had begun to form in the mind of the sheriff as he drove over to the school. He went directly to the principal's office where Ben and Gerome had just finished a meeting. They greeted him warmly.

"Actually I came to see if I might have a minute with Gerome" the sheriff said.

"Why, of course" Gerome said, inviting Randy into his office. The men talked for a few minutes and the sheriff left with the agreement that Gerome and his brother would be at the sheriff's home later.

As Randy was leaving Gerome's office, he ran into Helen Frump, his son's teacher.

"What are you doing here in the middle of the day, sheriff?" she asked frostily. "Don't you have a job to do at the court house going after innocent people?"

"Don't you have a job to do in the classroom teaching my child?" he replied snappily. "Looks like you prefer to spend your time just roaming the halls talking to disinterested men."

"I was planning to come down this afternoon to see if you might inquire as to the well-being of Will Barrow" she said. "I have been trying to reach him by phone since he was fired by your friend, the asshole principal. I have been unable to reach Mr. Barrow. I have gone by his house but there is no answer at the door."

"Well, Miss Frump, I'll be more than happy to go by Barrow's house and check to see if anythin's out of order" the sheriff said. "I don't believe I know where he lives but you obviously do. If you'll share his address, I'll be more than happy to get right over there."

"Thank you, sheriff," she said. "I hope my friend is okay."

"You do realize, don't you, that the man was involved in the burning of the cross and the Colony School?"

"So you say" the woman said haughtily. "I know Will well enough to know that can't be true. I've known the man for a long time and I know he wouldn't hurt a fly."

"A fly?" the sheriff asked. "Maybe not a fly. But he'd burn out a negro family in a heartbeat. He put a lot of lives in danger and he needs to pay for it. I certainly hope I can find him. I will not tolerate that behavior in my town. But I will certainly do my best to find him."

"I hope you do" the teacher said. "I feel certain Will is okay. I think he's probably looking for a new teaching position since your dear friend fired him here. He's a good teacher and a fine man. I have no doubt he'll be filing a lawsuit against this school and this city and I'll be more than happy to help him out."

"You do just that, ma'am" the sheriff said as he left the building.

He drove directly to Barrow's home which was very near his own new place. It was a very nice, old home in the heart of downtown. A sign in the yard marked the home as a historical site, having been built before the Civil War by Barrow's family.

The front door was locked but Randy went around back and managed to enter, cutting a screen. The home was luxurious and richly furnished. The home was also very neat. He found nothing of interest in the downstairs formal room so he climbed the stairs. On the right was what was obviously Barrow's bedroom. It was large with antique furnishings and a large walnut desk with all the drawers locked. Randy was able to pick the locks. He sat down at the desk and opened a large drawer on the right. There he found a massive amount of pictures of girls who were clearly underage in all stages of nudity. Many were taken in frilly, lacy underwear. In some of the photos, small fragments of a man's body could be seen, although there were none showing the face of the man. There were also photos of older women, most of them in leather or other bondage gear, many being whipped and bound to various appliances. The girls were posed in nasty poses, some with various sex toys. The man's arms and legs were very hairy and Randy was quite certain the man had to be Will Barrow. In another drawer, he found many of the toys the girls had been posed with. There were dildoes and vibrators of all sizes and colors. None of the young girls looked familiar to the sheriff, who knew most of the children in Gayberry. That was a relief, but the sheer number of pictures was staggering. Many of them had obviously been taken in Barrow's bedroom. There was a large chest of drawers with only one locked drawer. The other drawers contained folded shirts, jeans and other outerwear. After breaking the lock on the locked drawer, Randy found it loaded with women's lingerie. There were all manner of frilly, lacy panties in every color and style. The sizes ran from very small to adult sized underwear. What made this find even more interesting was that the sheriff found no drawer containing men's underwear which led him to believe the teacher had a fetish for wearing women's panties. Nothing else of interest was found in the bedroom so he decided to check out the basement. In addition to a treasure trove of pornography of every description, the sheriff also found a small dark room which Barrow had obviously used for developing the photos he himself took.

Going back to the upstairs bedroom, Randy checked the man's closet, finding another new-looking klan robe and hood. He took those in addition to some of the photos of naked kids, some of the sex toys and several pairs of the frilly panties. He threw those things into a suitcase and stored it all in it he trunk of the squad car. He made a drive-by of the downtown area and everything seemed quiet. He realized the car was low on gas so he stopped in at the service station for a fill-up. Folly, Peanut, and the deputy were all sitting out front as he pulled up beside the gas pump.

"Well, all you fellas are lookin' real busy" the sheriff said as Peanut came to pump his gas.

"Kind of a slow day here" Folly said. "The deputy's had several guys needin' dick suckin' service but ain't much else happenin'. Of course, that ain't unusual. The glory hole don't usually get much business till around three when all the men folks start getting' off of work."

"Well, I'm gonna need Arney back at the jail by five thirty" the sheriff said. "I realize it may put you in a bind but you'll have to either work out somethin' with Peanut or find you another cocksucker. It wouldn't kill you to suck a few dicks yourself since you own this fuckin' place. I'm only loanin' Arney to you cause I'm responsible for keepin' the peace in this town and I know how quick things'll start goin' to hell in this town if the men ain't got an outlet. You may have to pay Peanut a little more but that ain't my problem."

"Aw hell, I'll figure somethin' out!" Folly said. "That goddamn Homer! Ungrateful little bastard. I give him a place to live and a job since he was in high school and now he bails on me."

"Don't give that boy no grief, Folly," the sheriff said. "He's worked long hours here and he's sucked a lot of dick in that bathroom. Seems he got a good deal goin' with the Marines. He looked happy as a little puppy suckin' on that sergeant's big cock when I seen him a little while ago. Besides, it wouldn't kill you to suck a few cocks."

"Randy, we both know that ain't happenin"" the man said. "You know I'm a married man."

"That don't mean shit" the sheriff said. "If you get in a tight, you better be prepared to suck a dick or two. You don't have no problem with stickin' your dick through that hole to get it sucked, you better be prepared to hit your knees on the other side of that hole if need be. It ain't no crime to be suckin' dick. If you fuck with me, I'll pull the deputy out of here right now."

"Oh please, Randy," Folly said. "Don't do that. I was just kiddin' around with you. I appreciate you loanin' him to me and I'll work things out with Peanut if I need to."

After leaving the service station, Randy decided to go check on the prisoners in the dungeon. He drove over and took the suitcase from the trunk and the bag of sandwiches in with him. He went in without turning on any lights. As always, the men heard him and they began hoping it might be rescuers.

"Who's there?" P.T. asked.

When there was no answer, the prisoners began to hope and all began asking who had entered the space. When the sheriff finally turned on the lights, the men were disappointed and they all went completely silent.

"So you are all gonna play the silent game again?" Randy asked. "How boring. And here I had a nice surprise for all of you. I brought nice, thick, ham and turkey sandwiches with all the trimmins with enough for all of you. But I'll take `em back to the car if you're all choosing to be rude."

"Please don't sheriff," Reverend Smith said quietly. "I think I'm wasting away. I am starving. I've never been so hungry in my life. I really don't want to die of starvation."

"Me too" his brother said. "I'd eat a shoe if it would just put somethin' in my empty belly. I can't take it much longer."

"Anything?" the sheriff asked.

The men were silent for about sixty seconds.

"Anything" Reverend Smith said.

"None of you gets any food till you get cleaned up" the sheriff said. "Young Charlie's the only one of you I trust at all. As you see I'm here by myself so I got to be careful. I know you boys don't like me much. I'm gonna untie young Charlie and he can help me get all of you cleaned up. Charlie, you'll get the first sandwich if you behave yourself and do as I say. How does that sound?"

"That sounds great, sheriff, "the boy said eagerly. "I swear to God I won't make any moves against you and I'll do as you say. I'm just so hungry. I'm worried about my paw too. He can't seem to stop cryin'."

"You'd be cryin' too if you'd had your peter sliced up, son," the sheriff said. "Why don't we save his bath for last cause it's gonna really hurt when we rip the gauze off his bloody, crusty dick."

Mr. Print wailed upon hearing those words. The sheriff reached into the large brown paper bag and withdrew one of the sandwiches. He unwrapped it and the honeyed ham smelled wonderful.

"Charlie, I'm gonna let you bathe yourself first and when you finish, you get that sandwich. I've got cans of soda in the cooler too. You get yourself cleaned up and you get your sandwich. And if any of these other motherfuckers misbehaves, you can get their sandwiches too."

The boy took the hose and began to soap his body thoroughly. He shampooed his hair and made sure he was squeaky clean. He then stood naked before the sheriff for his inspection.

"Good job, Charlie boy," the sheriff said. "Stand still now. I want to get a better look at your foreskin."

The boy stood still as the sheriff groped and prodded him a bit. Randy then pulled the foreskin down as far as it would go and released it.

"That's a nice cock you got, kid" the sheriff said. "I think it's already a little bit bigger than your old man's dick. It'd sure be a shame for you to lose it, wouldn't it? I bet you could make some babies with that fine dick."

Charlie looked as if he might start crying but then Randy handed him a sandwich and a can of soda and he was fine. He jumped up on the altar table and sat cross-legged as he enjoyed the sandwich.

"Who do you think we ought to bathe next, Charlie?" the sheriff asked.

"Don't matter to me" the boy said. "I'll bathe whoever you tell me to. It's is the best sandwich I ever tasted in my whole life."

"Fuckin' little pussy" Barrow muttered.

"Let's do Mr. Barrow next, shall we, Charlie?" the sheriff asked. "I think those Bama boys left him a pretty cummy mess after they all fucked him. They all seem to like his hairy little puss and his mouth too. Would you like to try some of that ass, Charlie?"

"Sheriff, I ain't gay" the boy said. "I can't help it if my dick gets hard when it gets touched. I don't want it too. That's just the way boys is made. But I'm willin' to do anything you tell me to do if it'll get me fed the way you're feedin' me today."

Charlie and the sheriff chuckled as Barrow continued to glare at both of them.

"I don't trust Barrow like I do you, Charlie boy," the sheriff said. "We'll keep one of his arms restrained. You can still turn him around and move him however you need to move him to get him all clean. If he gives you any problems, just let me know. I'll give his sandwich to you and shock the livin' shit out of his hairy ass."

"I'd sure eat it too" the boy said. "That was the best sandwich I ever tasted. I believe I could eat ten more of them if I had the chance."

"You might just get several more, Charlie," the sheriff said. "If these other men don't behave well, you may get every sandwich in that bag. If you keep behavin' good like you are now, Charlie, I'll try to make sure you're the last one that goes on that table to get cut. Who knows? Somebody could come to rescue you before it comes to that. I know that's what some of these men have been tellin' you after we leave, ain't they?"

"Yes, sir," the boy said. "Mainly P.T. and Mr. Barrow" Charlie said. "They keep tellin' us if we just keep our mouths shut, somebody will be here to rescue us. P.T. says he knows some of the biggest, baddest, and most powerful men anywhere and he's sure they'll be comin' to rescue him and he'll take all of us with him."

"Shut the fuck up, boy" P.T. growled. "I'll slit your fuckin' throat."

"That's pretty big talk for a man that can't even move and arm of a leg, ain't it, Charlie" the sheriff laughed as P.T. glowered at both of them.

"P.T.'s right, boy" Barrow said. "You got loose lips on you and that ain't healthy."

"I ain't scared of you no more, Mr. Barrow," Charlie said. "Everybody that come in here has been usin' your butthole like a pussy. I think that's kind of funny for somebody who always made hisself out to be such a tough, big man. They been fuckin' you in the ass and in the mouth. Seems like they've turned you into their bitch."

Charlie had finished his sandwich and a bag of chips and was on his second soda. Randy had untied Barrow's extremities except for his left hand. The man was having trouble moving his joints as he had been restrained for so long.

"Let's not use that high pressure hose, boy" the sheriff said. I've hooked up just a regular garden hose cause we might have some fun with it after you get Barrow cleaned up."

Charlie set in to washing Barrow, soaping every inch of his hairy body. Barrow said nothing, just continuing to glower at the boy and the sheriff. He at first jerked away when the kid put the bar of soap to his hairy crotch, but a move from the sheriff toward the control for his shock collar stopped him in his tracks.

"Okay, okay, okay," Barrow said. "I can't take no more of that shockin'."

Charlie did a good job getting the man clean in a short time. Randy sat on the altar table and watched as he finished rinsing the man. Then he walked over beside them.

"I think you've got this asshole clean on the outside, Charlie, but I ain't so sure about the inside."

Charlie looked confused, but Barrow had an inkling of what he might be talking about.

"Spread them hairy legs, Barrow, and if you move a muscle, I'll shock the livin' shit out of you" the sheriff commanded.

Barrow stood completely still as the sheriff crimped the hose pip and began to insert the end into Barrow's rectum. He screamed as it made its way into his dry hole but Randy kept pushing until the hose was several inches inside the man's rectum. Then he uncrimped it and let the water flow into Barrow.

"Please, sheriff, don't do this" Barrow begged. "I don't deserve this."

"No, Barrow, you deserve a lot worse but that will come with time. Be patient boy. Charlie, did you know that if you run enough water into a man's hole, he will end up with his gut exploding? It ain't a pretty way to die at all. Feelin' full yet, Barrow?"

"Yes, please, please take it out" Barrow begged. "I'm about to bust."

"Oh no, you got a long way to go before you bust, Barrow" the sheriff chuckled. "A long way. Feel of his tummy, Charlie. Is it poochin' out yet?"

"Yes, sir, a little bit" Charlie snickered. "He's hairy as a monkey."

"Rub his tummy, Charlie," the sheriff said. "Play with his pecker a little bit too. It'll take his mind off the way his gut is filling up with water. That is, if you can find his tiny little cock."

The boy did as instructed. Barrow's little cock stayed soft but Charlie's began to rise.

"Look at you, boy" the sheriff said. "Your pecker's getting' hard."

"Can't help it, sir," the boy said. "It's got a mind of its own."

"When we get Barrow cleaned out, you might want to fuck him" the sheriff said. "Can't imagine there's nothin' left in there so it shouldn't be hard to clean him out. But he'll be spic'n'span when we finish with this. You think you might want to stick that dick of yours inside that hairy hole, Charlie?"

"Only if you tell me to, sheriff," the boy answered. "I really don't want to get my dick carved on like my paw" the boy said. "I really don't. I'd do most anything to keep that from happenin."

"I ain't a liar" the sheriff said. "I can't make no promises."

"But even if there's a little tiny chance, I'll do whatever you tell me to" Charlie said. "I'd like to show you I ain't as bad as the rest of these men, sheriff. I really ain't."

"That's a good boy" he said. "You're a lot better person than the rest of these assholes, son. I'll do what I can for you. No, crimp that hose but don't pull it out yet. I want to make sure all those other assholes are watching."

All eyes were on Barrow as Charlie prepared to pull the hose out of his hole.

"Bend those knees as much as you can, Barrow" the sheriff ordered. "When I say `pull, yank that hose all the way out and stand back, Charlie."

He waited a few seconds and then gave the boy the command. As the boy pulled the hose and let it hit the floor, a steady stream of water began to spew out of Barrow. The Smith brothers found it hilarious and even P.T. gave a smirk as the water show from Barrow. When they would think it was all over, a whole new wave would begin as his gut contracted to expel the water. It was funny each time except for Barrow who was experience awful cramping in his abdomen. His butt was hurting too from the irritation of the hose having been inserted and the force of the water on the tender tissues.

"How's that feel, Barrow?" the sheriff asked. "Do you feel all cleaned out or do you need another round?"

"No, please, please, no more" Barrow begged.

"Okay, enough of that, but I think you do need to be punished for getting' our boy Charlie so worked up" the sheriff said. "Look, the boy's cock's still hard. I think you better give him some of that hole before you get your sandwich. Charlie, you're gonna ram that cock of yours into Barrow. Take your time and don't even think about backtalkin' me or I'll shock you and your paw till you're unconscious."

"You're a bastard!" Barrow said as Charlie began to stroke his hard meat, clearly excited that he about to fuck. "You're gonna have to fuck him standin' up cause I don't trust you quite enough to have two of you loose at the same time."

Charlie moved into position behind Barrow, teasing the hole with his hardon. He attempted to put it inside him but he was having trouble.

"Lick that hole, boy" the sheriff said. "Get it nice and slick. You are gonna fuck him, no two ways about it. You can do it without getting' shocked or you can get your ass shocked and then I'll have ever' one of these men fuckin' you."

That was the last thing Charlie wanted so he went to work kneeling and eating Barrow's hairy hole. He then stood and worked his hard cock into the man even as Barrow sobbed, totally humiliated again at having the young boy use his manhole.

"Is that not comfortable, Barrow?" the sheriff asked. "I wonder if that's how the young girls felt when you stuck your meat into their tiny holes. Even your little meat would have hurt kids that age, you fuckin' asshole."

Barrow shot his head around with a panicked look. P.T. also perked up his ears.

"Well, that got some attention" Randy said. "Yeah, Barrow, I visited your home today and found some very interesting things."

"You goddamned bastard!" Barrow said angrily even as young Charlie fucked him. "You had no right to do that!"

"I had every right to do that after your dear buddy, Miss Frump reported you missing" the sheriff said. "It's standard operating procedure to look into what clues might be found in the missing person's home."

Barrow was sobbing now even as young Charlie continued thrusting his hard meat in and out of the man. The sheriff walked over to the reverend.

"Reverend Smith, I didn't forget that I failed to get another name from you of another boy you cut when I was here last. I will be expecting that shortly" the sheriff said, his mouth right at the reverend's ear. "If we hold a vote tonight for someone to be on the table, a little birdie told me it would likely be you who gets strapped down."

"Nooooooooooooooooooooo" the reverend yelled. "I couldn't take it. I have a very low pain tolerance. My heart couldn't take it. It would kill me."

"Do you think I'd give a shit about that? Now you just quieten down and you and me are gonna have a little talk. It could keep you off the table if you cooperate. I wanna know exactly what happened with Phillip Hunt, a boy who attended your church with his father. I will tell you that I met his father and his mother this morning so you better not lie to me or I'll push for you to be the next one the knife is used on."

"I barely even knew the boy" the reverend said. "He and his father were members of my church. His father came to me complaining that the boy was misbehaving. I tried to help by offering counseling and talking with both of them."

"Roy, you better think hard before you lie to me" the sheriff said as he grabbed the man's nut sac in his hands and pulled and twisted it.

The man screamed out in pain.

"Let me go!" he begged. "I can't take the pain. Please let me go."

"You call this pain?" the sheriff laughed. "This ain't nothin' compared to the feel of that cold, sharp steel blade cuttin' into your tender foreskin or maybe even your hairy nut sac. This is nothing."

"No, please don't say that. That's not funny" the man said "Okay, okay, I'll tell you more if you'll just let go of my nuts, please."

"No way, asshole" the sheriff said, pulling harder and twisting further. The man screamed again.

"You just missed a chance to stay off that table tonight" the sheriff said. "I bet your brother will be more willing to talk to save his nuts."

"My brother won't say shit to you, asshole," the reverend spat.

They were interrupted by young Charlie approaching a very noisy climax in Barrow's ass. The boy was shouting that he was cumming and he was very vocal and very loud. The sheriff watched him make some long hard thrusts, then grab Barrow's hips, holding on to keep from crumbling into the floor. After a few seconds, Randy walked over and pulled him away, his dick making a whooshing sound as it came out of Barrow's hole. Cum was dribbling down Barrow's very hairy thigh and Barrow as sobbing quietly.

"Thanks, Mr. Barrow" the young boy said. "Sorry I had to do that but you know I didn't have no choice in the matter."

"We always have a choice about what we do, boy" P.T. said sharply. "You could have flatly refused."

"But the sheriff would've beat me and shocked me. And then I'd have been the next one on that table getting' cut!"

"That's right" P.T. said. "But you still had the choice of suffering pain or inflicting pain and humiliation on someone you claim to respect."

"I do respect him but..."

"No buts, boy," P.T. said. "You made a choice. I think it was probably a bad one that's gonna end up with you being on that table sooner rather than later."

Charlie started crying again.

"Buck up, son," Randy said as he put his arm around the boy's shoulder. "P.T.'s just a fuckin' blowhard. Why don't you bathe him next while I clean up Barrow. You made quite a mess, son. That was a championship cumload."

The boy looked proud of himself as P.T. glared at him.

"I ain't undoin' P.T. at all" the sheriff said. "You'll have to just wash him as best as you can."

Randy had again turned on the water and shoved it back into Barrow's hole. The man was again sobbing as the water flowed into him, stretching his gut. Randy pulled the hose out again and Barrow started to expel water in strong squirts as Randy turned the hose onto P.T., wetting the man down.

"Soap him up, boy" the sheriff said. "I may let you fuck him if you can get that young cock hard again."

"The day you put that dick in me is the day you die, boy" P.T. said quietly which frightened Charlie.

The boy began to soap P.T. without another word. Meanwhile Randy had Barrow full of water and he again removed the hose, watching Barrow expel the completely clear water. The sheriff took the hose and walked over to P.T. spraying him with more water as Charlie soaped his body. P.T. undoubtedly had a body most men half his age would envy and Charlie seemed almost afraid to touch him although he was restrained.

"Go after it, boy," Randy said. "If you don't I'll grab that remote."

Charlie started to wash him more aggressively. He was now working on the older man's hairy butt.

"Get a finger good and soapy and stick it in him to make sure he's clean" the sheriff told Charlie as P.T continued to glare silently. "P.T.'s more of a man than that pussy Barrow. It'll likely take several fingers to make him wiggle."

"Please don't make me, sheriff," the boy begged.

He received a cold stare from the sheriff and added another finger, making it his three middle fingers now in P.T's soapy hole.

The man stood stock still but Randy wanted to taunt him.

"I think that's feelin' real good, Charlie. "He's an old man and it'll likely take more to get him on a hard" the sheriff said. "Maybe I need to work on him a little bit too."

The sheriff stepped closer and began to pinch the man's hairy nipples, which elicited no response.

"I'll say this for you, P.T." the sheriff said. "You got a hella higher pain tolerance than them sissy Smith brothers but that may not be a good thing."

"Rinse him off and hit them knees and lick his dick a little, Charlie" Randy ordered.

Charlie wanted to object but a look from Randy and he knew better. The boy was afraid of P.T. but he was more afraid of the sheriff. Randy walked over to the sandwich bag, took out a sandwich and opened it. Barrow still had one hand untied and Randy handed him one of the delicious sandwiches. Barrow attempted to take a bite of the sandwich but he had another spasm in his gut and he dropped it into the water that had so recently spewed out of his ass. The sandwich was immediately wet and soggy and Barrow began to openly sob.

"I'll be glad to pick it up for you" the sheriff said with a smile. "It's just a little bit of used ass water."

Barrow glared at him and then exploded.

"You goddamned motherfucking son of a cocksucking bitch!" he shouted. "Don't you realize I'm starving to fucking death? I can't eat a fucking sandwich with my own ass water on it, you cold bastard."

"You know, Barrow, I was done with you for the night but now you're pissin' me off just a tiny bit" the sheriff said.

Saying nothing else, he walked over to the suitcase and took out a small pair of lacy pink panties. He held them up for all the prisoners to see.

"Look at these pretty pink panties" the sheriff said, waving them and letting each of the prisoners sniff them. "Want to know where I found these?"

Only then did it hit Barrow where the panties were from.

"I found these in Barrow's underwear drawer. I found these and about twenty pairs similar to these in all different colors and styles" the sheriff said. "You may think he took them off some hot piece of puss but you'd be thinkin' wrong. He only wears these himself. There wasn't a single pair of men's underwear in his whole fuckin' house. Just think about how your buddy's been wearing panties under them klan robes and under the clothes he wore to school to teach the children of our community. I'd be willing to bet that little tiny mouse dick of his stayed hard all the time. I think they probably look real nice on him. Let's check it out."

He walked over to Barrow and held the delicate panties up in front of his hairy crotch.

"Stop suckin that dick for a minute and get your ass over here, Charlie" the sheriff said as the boy came running like a puppy. Randy retied Barrow's free hand and untied one foot at a time, letting him step into the lacy panties. He then pulled them up to cover the man's small cock.

"Lookie here, boys," the sheriff laughed. "Just puttin' the panties on is makin' Barrow's little dick hard although there's not enough dick meat that you can tell from a distance."

Sure enough Barrow's tiny cock was quickly hardening. Again, the man was humiliated as the sheriff got a handful of Charlies's hair and dragged the boy back over to P.T., whose cock was still standing straight out from his thick patch of pubes.

"Looks like P.T.'s havin' a hard time shootin' his load" the sheriff said. "Get them fingers back up in his hole and suck that dick like you mean it, Charlie!"

Barrow was wiggling every way, trying to get the panties off but there was no way, tied as he was at the ankles and the wrists. P.T. was getting his dick sucked and getting fingered by Charlie, but he showed no signs of shooting his load.

"Give up on the old man, Charlie" the sheriff said. "He ain't worth it. He may regret not feedin' you a load later when he's got no dick or nuts left on him. We need to get them brothers cleaned up. I think I forgot to tell you we may be havin' visitors tonight, boys."

P.T.'s ears perked up immediately at that but he asked no questions.

"I don't want to spoil a surprise but it could be a good friend of one of you that's visitin' and you may have to make an important decision. All of you need to have a name ready to give me later tonight as to which one of you assholes gets on the altar table next."

The reverend immediately started wailing.

"Shut the fuck up or I'll go ahead and cut you right now!"Randy said sharply. The reverend hushed immediately.

They got the hose and the soap and made quick work of washing the Smith brothers. Neither of them liked another man touching their genitals in front of others so the sheriff made a point of getting both hard and getting two fingers up their asses. The men glared but voiced no objections.

"You two think if you just stay quiet, we won't get around to slicin' and dicin' your cocks, don't you?" the sheriff asked. "It ain't a bad strategy but it ain't gonna work. Sooner or later, every one of you ends up on that table."

"Please, no, don't" the preacher said. "I am beggin' you. I will give you all my earthly possessions. If you let me go, I will never say a word to anyone about what happened here. I swear in the name of the almighty God I will never, ever tell a soul."

He was sobbing and begging to the point that even his brother was disgusted.

"Fuckin' man up, Roy!" his brother said. "You sound like some kind of woman or a pussified faggot with your squallin' and beggin'. It's time to be a man."

"But I can't take it" the preacher said. "I think I'm havin' heart palpitations now. I can't take it. Please, sheriff. Just let me go. You can keep all the others. I swear to Jesus I will never say a single word to anyone about what's went on in here and I won't tell a soul about the men you're still keepin' here. I swear to the holy Lord Jesus Jehovah I'll go far, far away and you'll never hear a word from me ever, ever again as long as you live. I am pleadin' with you to please just let me get the fuck out of this hell hole!"

"Thanks a lot" his brother said. "What a piece of shit you are. You'd sacrifice your own fuckin' brother to save that wormy dick of yours. I guess I know now where I stand with my own brother. I hope they do put you on the table next."

Brother Roy was sobbing as Randy rinsed him.

"Forgive them, Lord, for they know not what they do" Brother Roy kept repeating as Randy washed his genitals.

"Shut the fuck up, asshole," the sheriff snapped. "I know exactly what I'm doin' and if you don't shut the fuck up, you will be tied to that table."

"Noooooooooooooooooooo, please" the reverend screamed.

Randy rinsed the brothers which left only Mr. Print. The man was fully conscious but had sobbed most of the time Randy had been in the building. He obviously knew what was coming and it could not be avoided. He was the only one who had actually felt the pain of the cold scalpel cutting into his skin and the dried gauze being ripped from his crusty wounds.

"You ready to get cleaned up, Mr. Print?" Randy asked him.

"No, please," he begged. "Not today, please. Just give me one more day to heal. Please don't touch me. I can't stand it."

There was a long piece of gauze wrapped around the end of the man's penis with dried blood all over it.

"Pull t hat gauze off, Charlie" the sheriff ordered.

"Please don't make me do it, sheriff" the boy asked. "Please don't. It's my paw."

"Yeah, I know" the sheriff said coldly. "It was also your fuckin' paw that sent you into my house with a fuckin' shotgun to kill Kurt Smith. You may think I have forgotten hat but I never will. Now pull that gauze and don't be gentle or I'll put you on that fuckin' table and cut you myself right fuckin' now."

Charlie knew he had no choice so he began to pull on the gauze. It was wrapped around the cock several times and as each layer was pulled off, it hurt worse. The man began to plead with his son to stop but Randy told him not to stop or he would have to pay. Charlie was crying and the old man was pleading as the gauze came off slowly but surely. By the time the gauze was completely removed the man was sobbing so hard he was unable to speak. Randy handed the boy a fresh bottle of rubbing alcohol.

"Pour it on, Charlie" he ordered. "We don't your paw's dick to get infected. He might lose it completely."

"Please cut it off" Mr. Print begged. "It would be easier than this. Please cut it off and just be done with it. I can't take this pain."

"Cuttin' it off right now would be too easy for you, you fuckin' asshole" the sheriff barked. "Pour the goddamned alcohol now, boy!"

Charlie began to pour the rubbing alcohol over the cock which was bleeding again as Print screamed and tried to get away from the liquid fire burning his most sensitive skin. Randy laughed as the man screamed and Charlie cried. All the other men looked on in horror except P.T. who still had the smirk on his face. When the bottle was empty and the pain just began to subside, Mr. Print heard words he really did not want to hear.

"Okay, Charlie, the bleedin's pretty much stopped" the sheriff said. "Get him hard with your hand."

"Oh no, the man yelped. "I can't stand it. Please, Charlie don't touch it. I can't stand it. You'll be killin' your own father."

"You mean like his father killed his mother?" the sheriff chuckled.

Charlie was already beginning to try to get his father's dick hard but the man was wiggling so badly, he couldn't get a grip. The sheriff reached for the man's shock collar control and zapped him. The man screamed and Charlie continued his efforts to get his father hard.

"I ain't sure he can get hard" Charlie said. "He's in too much pain. It's really startin' to bleed again."

"Use the blood like you use to use lotion on your own dick when you was jackin' off in your room, Charlie. Get that dick hard or you'll have to pay the price."

"I'm sorry, paw" the boy said, crying. "I'm sorry but if you'll stop fightin' we can get this over with."

"Suck it, boy," the sheriff said.

"But I can't, I just can't do that" Charlie was pleading. "It's all bloody and I know it'll make me vomit."

"If you vomit, you'll clean up every drop of it with your fucking tongue" the sheriff said. "Now I'm losin' patience and you're about to feel some more of that fuckin' electricity!"

The sheriff barely moved his hand and Charlie was on the old man's dick, sucking for all he was worth and kneading his hairy nuts. Charlie finally managed to get his father hard even as he was retching, gagging and coughing. It wasn't long before the boy managed to get a load out of his old man. Charles screamed in pain as he shot his load and the sheriff made Charlie douse his dick again with alcohol and wrap it in gauze afterward. As the pain leveled off, Mr. Print asked the sheriff if he might have a sandwich.

"Gosh, I nearly forgot" the sheriff said. Charlie had one and then Will Barrow shit all over his. So there should be four left in the bag. I'll get them for you guys. So sorry I kind of forgot. Are you others hungry?"

All the men said they were starving as Randy got the bag and set it on the altar table.

"Uh-oh" the sheriff said. "That fuckin' stupid bitch aunt of mine and your friend Mrs. Bedford obviously can't count for shit. I clearly told them I needed six sandwiches. Looks like they shorted us. I'm very sorry but there are only two sandwiches left. I really hate this."

"We could share one" the preacher said, nodding toward his brother and P.T. and Charles could share one. That seems the way to do it so we could all have some food. Barrow don't deserve another one cause he dropped his whole fuckin' sandwich in his own shit water."

"Nah" the sheriff said. "That don't work for me too much. The sandwiches ain't all that big and it just ain't enough. Better not to eat at all than to eat and still be hungry is my way of thinkin'. Charlie, we got two sandwiches. Who gets `em?"

"Oh, sheriff," he cried. "Please don't make me choose. Whoever I don't choose will hate me more and they'll vote for me to be on the table next."

"Boy, you would've already been there instead of your paw but I gave you immunity and saved your dickskin. Choose now or I'll eat both of `em and everybody will be pissed at you" the sheriff said. "Choose right now."

"I think one sandwich goes to my paw because he's been through so much with getting' cut and all and the other one goes to P.T."

"Good job, boy," P.T. said in his low voice as Charlie took the sandwiches over and began to feed them to his father and the older man. The sheriff watched until every crumb was gone and then sent them cans of cold soda with straws to make drinking easier as young Charlie held the cans for them. The Smith brothers were visibly salivating as they watched the others eat their honey ham sandwiches with all the trimmings.

"You goddamned little ratfuck son of a bitch!" the preacher screamed at Charlie. "You bet your fuckin' sorry ass we'll have you on that fuckin' table next. I'd cut you my goddamned self if I could get my hands on a knife. I'd clean cut your dick plumb off your body you sick little fuck!"

"That's enough of that, preacher," the sheriff said quietly. "It is now time for you to give me the name of another boy you cut at your church."

"I won't give you jack shit!" preacher Roy said. You and your little pussyboy favorite can eat shit and die before I tell you a goddamn thing. We should've listened to P.T. and kept our fuckin' mouths shut like he told us to. I ain't sayin' another word."

"I'm askin' you one more time" the sheriff said. "Give me a name, preacher."

"Fuck you up your asshole!" the preacher said.

"Okay, that's it" Randy said as he stood up and walked over to the brothers. He began to untie the ropes from the preacher's wrists and ankles. He motioned for Charlie to come and assist him. He then began to lead the preacher toward the table.

"Oh please" the preacher said. "I didn't mean any of the stuff I said. I'm so sorry. I was just blowin' off some steam. Please don't do this. Please! I won't be able to take it. I'll give you a name. I wanted to give you all the information you wanted but my brother told me not to. It's his fault. Take him instead of me. Porky Skinner! That's the name. He's another boy we cut. Porky Skinner! I swear to God! Porky Skinner! Porky Skinner! We cut the boy and I'm so sorry! Just please don't do this to me. I won't survive it. Take one of the others. I don't care which one, even if it's my own brother. He's always been able to take more pain than me. Please don't do this!""

"Too late, asshole" the sheriff chuckled.

They now had him at the table and Randy pushed him onto the table on his back. The man struggled to sit up but the sheriff instructed Charlie to hold his ankles down. He was flailing his arms but Randy managed to get the wrist cuffs secured to the heavy rings in the floor. The man was kicking, flailing, and screaming like a wild animal and begging the sheriff not to put him on the table.

"In the name of Jesus, I apologize. In the name of all the angels and archangels, I plead with you not to do this. Dear sweet Jesus! Sweet, sweet Jesus, Father, Son and Holy Ghost deliver me! Please, sheriff, I cannot take this. I will not survive!"

The man was screaming, crying and pleading as the sheriff and Charlie got his ankles secured to the rings in the floor. The preacher was now flat on his back on the table, his wrists and ankles secured with rope to heavy rings in the floor. He was screaming, sobbing and begging to be released.

"Please, sheriff, don't do this" he begged. "I swear I will give you my every worldly possession. You can fuck my wife. Hell, you can fuck my daughters. I have a beautiful five year-old and you can fuck her anytime you want. I'll never tell a soul! I swear it in the name of Jesus!"

He realized Randy was not going to release him and he started to cry loudly as Randy walked to the foot of the table and grabbed his cock. It was a nice sized cock with a very long foreskin. Randy began to tug on the foreskin, pulling it as far down over the cockhead as it would possibly stretch.

"Please don't do this!" he begged. "Please don't do it, please, please."

"Oh, I ain't doin' it now" the sheriff said. "I'm gonna let you think about how that cold steel's gonna feel when I cut into that thick foreskin and how it's gonna bleed and you're gonna scream. Think about it, asshole. And you better pray. If I was doin' it right now, I wouldn't just take your skin, I'd cut the whole goddamned thing off."

Preacher started again to scream and beg the sheriff to release him. The sheriff tied Charlie back in his place and checked the ropes of all of the prisoners. The preacher was still screaming and begging as he turned off the lights and closed the door.