The Three Hundred and Seventeenth of One Thousand and One Nights – by Amalaric

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The old farmer ran a brutal operation, but times were hard. Down South in the mid-50’s saw no shortage of strapping bucks drifting from shimmering field to field in the summer heat.

He fucked up making out one night with the old man’s daughter. Girls kiss and tell and, well, next morning found him nearly pissing himself trying to explain things. No use, the boss wasn’t in a reasoning mood. The blubbering girl sat to the side but watched, nevertheless, as the young stud was ordered to strip to the waist and loosen his work pants. Daddy noticed and backhanded the dim witted thing, banishing her to the porch.

‘You wait here, boy! Gotta fetch me some rope, a strap and maybe a couple other things… Billy!’ he yelled to one of the loiterers out in the drive. ‘Go fetch the other hands and bring ’em over here. Gonna make an example of this one’

Head down, heart hammering, he waited as long minutes ticked by slow as tar pooling at the base of a telephone pole.


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