The School Bully's Punishment (multiple m/m) 9 Parts Complete

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Jason Toddman
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Thank you all for the feedback. :D

Chapter 6 - Scuzzy Gets Benched

Early the next morning, before the other prisoners were to be awakened and fed, Scuzzy was taken down from where he was suspended and carried out of the barn – still hogtied - in a wheelbarrow. He was taken to the side of the barn where there was a garden hose connected to an outside faucet. There the worse of the filth was washed off of him with cold water by his gleeful guards. At least, the filth on the outside of his body was washed off; that which came from within him was a different matter. He spewed a lot of that as well in form of the vilest profanity he could think of, but that came from an apparently inexhaustible supply of filth that could not be cleaned away.

As Scuzzy remained defiant and uncooperative, he was left hogtied in his wheelbarrow as he was carried back to the barn. At the same time, the other five prisoners were taken out of their cells to face the new morning – all wondering what horrible indignities would be inflicted on them after seeing a wet, bedraggled, very angry, and now thoroughly gagged Scuzzy being carted in.

Vincent came into the barn and the prisoners were compelled to stand at attention and face him.

“If you cooperate with us and do not try to resist as your leader here has, we will all be treated decently,” Vincent told them. “There is a shower stall set up in the barn; normally it is used for horses but is good enough for people too. The water isn’t very hot, but it will clean you off and you will be provided with soap and towels and a clean set of clothing afterward, and then breakfast. Your cuffs will be removed but your hobbles stay on. You will shower in two groups. Do as you are told and you will get a decent hot breakfast. If ANY of you give any trouble, it’s a small bowl of cold cereal for all of you.”

Even cold cereal sounded good at that point to all of the hungry prisoners, but under the circumstances all decided that a hot breakfast was even better. None of the other five prisoners gave their guards any trouble whatsoever; letting themselves be handcuffed again when they had finished their cold showers and put on a clean set of work clothes and boots. Scuzzy refused to comply with even a simple request to cease swearing, and so was given no clean clothes to wear at all. He remained clad in the same set of sodden underwear he had spent the night in – although at least it was reasonably clean again after his soaking.

The prisoners were taken to a picnic table outside the barn, where their guards fed them a breakfast of bacon, eggs, waffles with syrup, and orange juice. This was far better than they were expecting and in sharp contrast to what the uncooperative Scuzzy was given – which was nothing.
Beginning to realize for the first time that perhaps their punishment would not be as horrible as they first feared, Scuzzy’s former friends ate their breakfast in silence but with a reasonably healthy appetite. None of them spared even so much as a glance at the gagged and fuming Scuzzy as he lay inside his wheelbarrow and watched them ate their breakfasts. Despite going hungry, Scuzzy’s defiance remained absolute.

After their breakfast, the five other prisoners were assembled in to a loose chain gang and told what their first chore as farm workers would be. The garden needed to be plowed and gotten ready for planting. This would be perhaps the most labor intensive chore they would have to do for their entire stay here. Those who completed their assigned tasks without complaint or malingering would find many restrictions taken off of them and some privileges given back to them. Those who didn’t do what they were told in a timely manner would not be punished; they simply would not be given the same freedoms and privileges as the others. Those who, like Scuzzy, proved uncooperative would be disciplined as Vincent saw fit.

If anyone considered rebellion, one look at Scuzzy drove such thoughts right out of their heads! None of Scuzzy’s cronies wished to follow their former leader anymore!

The other five prisoners had their hands cuffed in front of them with old style manacles that restricted their movements less than standard police handcuffs would, and shown how to begin the difficult process of plowing the soil for the garden. It was hot, wearying, backbreaking work, but they were allowed to take their time at first to become more accustomed to such labor, and their guards did not rush or harass them in any way as long as they were deemed to be honestly doing their best with unfamiliar tasks.

It was at first considered to make the prisoners plow the old fashioned way – using them as yoked oxen. But it was decided that this was too cruel and unproductive. Modern rotor-tillers were brought in instead and those unfamiliar with them were instructed in their use and given time to practice. All were carefully watched – more to make sure they did not accidentally injure themselves than for any other reason. And even the use of modern rotor-tillers was far harder work than any of the prisoners had ever been accustomed to doing before.

There were six rotor-tillers, but only five of them were used. The sixth was for Scuzzy, and he adamantly refused to do any work whatsoever. Vincent had originally planned to punish all six prisoners alike when any refused to cooperate (to encourage the cooperative to persuade the uncooperative in their own way). However, the difference between Scuzzy and the other five was so great even from the start that Vincent at once abandoned this idea. Instead, the other five would be encouraged to keep working when they saw the difference between their treatment and his.

So when Scuzzy refused one last chance to work and avoid punishment, he was placed in the most restrictive hogtie possible without injuring him. Then he was compelled to kneel on the grass-covered ground at the edge of the garden and bend forward until his head touched the ground while still on his knees. One of his guards then sat on his upper back as if Scuzzy was nothing more than a large and unusually comfortable rock. Grumbles through Scuzzy’s gag were taken as an invitation for a second guard to sit beside the first!

After that, he had no more breath or strength for grumbling.

Every guard took his turn using Scuzzy as a chair, with brief ‘mercy’ breaks for Scuzzy after each turn to ensure no great harm was being done to any part of him other than his pride or dignity. It was a very long and uncomfortable day for Scuzzy, even though his guards did not otherwise torment him in anyway (other than the inevitable verbal taunts). Every half hour he was re-offered a choice between continued service as a soft chair or as a regular farm laborer, but he persistently refused to work – and so a chair he remained for the entire morning essentially by his own choice.

At noon, the prisoners were given a decent lunch and allowed a two-hour rest break in the shade; all but Scuzzy, who was left hog-tied to kneel in the hot sun. He was given water to drink and was sprayed with water from a hose to cool him off, but he was offered no other refreshment. Even so, his defiance remained rock solid.

In the afternoon Vincent decided the five cooperative prisoners deserved a bit of a break and assigned them easier chores for the afternoon. And so Conrad was assigned to mow the lawn, Bennett to paint the barn, Hal to paint the farmhouse, and Mummy to clean the barn and various utility sheds. None complained, for these were far easier tasks than plowing the garden and gave them continued reason to hope that cooperation would be a far better path than the path Scuzzy was choosing for himself.

As for Scuzzy, he was tied lying down on his back to a bench. Various guards then took their ease sitting on the bench and its prone occupant – usually three or four at a time. When they got tired of this diversion, the other five prisoners were then told they could take 15 minute rest breaks once each hour - but any prisoner who wanted to rest (or have anything to drink) had to sit on the bench. At first the others refused this privilege for fear of eventual reprisals. But as they got hotter, more tired, and more thirsty, their reluctance dropped away steadily. It collapsed entirely when they were told they could rest all they wanted – as long as it was on the bench! Rest anywhere else and it was back to work!

Finally seeing a chance to take it easy the rest of the afternoon with permission from their captors, the five prisoners soon kept Scuzzy well covered from chest to ankles. His feeble gagged protests were completely ignored (if they were heard at all). Conrad, who was on Scuzzy’s chest, finally got the gumption to slap Scuzzy’s face and tell him to shut up. “We’ve been working hard all day while you’ve been resting. Now we’re getting a rest. It’s your fault we’re all in this predicament anyway, so f*cking shut up!!!”

For the first time, Scuzzy’s defiance began to falter; his friends had abandoned him!

Seeing an opportunity to further humiliate Scuzzy, five of the guards made a plan together and met with the five prisoners as they were ending work for the day and about to be escorted back to the barn. “If you want to have dessert tonight after dinner, we’ll make you a deal. Carry Scuzzy back to the barn yourselves and tie him to the center post nice and securely. Then each of you slap him in the face just as hard as you can. Do this, and you can have our desserts tonight. Strawberry shortcake.”

B y the time Vincent found about this, he was too late to stop it. Scuzzy had a very sore face, and five prisoners were polishing off their desserts.

But though Scuzzy was not really hurt on the outside, inside he was a broken young man.

Being slapped by his own former friends in full view of his enemies was more than he could stand.

For the first time since he was five years old, Scuzzy began to weep.

His spirit was – well, not broken yet perhaps, but it was very badly cracked.

--To Be Continued --
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Post by RopingRingers »

Do kinda gotta respect his resolve lol. Seems like it's finally starting to crack now his friends are turning as well. Why would Vincent stop what they did though? They hardly crossed a line past anything done so far lol.
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RopingRingers wrote: 3 years ago Do kinda gotta respect his resolve lol. Seems like it's finally starting to crack now his friends are turning as well. Why would Vincent stop what they did though? They hardly crossed a line past anything done so far lol.
He wants to be the voice of impeccable reason. I also want to keep him completely sympathetic. :D

Chapter 7 – Cut Down to Size.

When the other five prisoners went to their cells that night to sleep, they were allowed to sleep without being cuffed or shackled; their limbs remained free. They were told that this was their reward for putting in a hard day’s work with no complaints or trouble, and that if they continued their good work more comforts would be given to them daily.

Scuzzy on the other hand still had to sleep that night standing up with his arms shackled to the wall, as before.

The next day was much like the previous one; plowing in the morning, a long lunch break, and easier tasks in the afternoon. Every prisoner but Scuzzy pitched in; therefore Scuzzy was treated like a piece of furniture exactly as before. This time the others were allowed longer rest breaks, as long as it was on top of Scuzzy that they rested. This became too popular however and had to be strictly limited to 5 minutes per prisoner per hour during work times; although there were no such limits during the two-hour long lunch break. The other prisoners ate well; Scuzzy was kept gagged and given nothing but water (fed through a straw poking through a small hole in his gag)

When the other five prisoners went to their cells that night to sleep, they found that their cells were now furnished with new mattresses with fitted sheets.

Scuzzy still had to sleep on a bare floor (with a thin covering of hay that hadn’t been changed with fresh hay) that night. He wasn’t forced to stand up that night and be shackled against the wall because he wasn’t as verbally abusive as the previous day, but he was still kept handcuffed and shackled the entire night.

Over the next few days, the five cooperative prisoners finished the plowing and began the hoeing of furrows and the planting of various vegetable seeds. As this job was less rigorous than plowing, this was their task in the afternoon as well. Each day Scuzzy had been offered the choice to start working with the others rather than be punished, but he refused each time. So he served the only way he could be forced to serve. Scuzzy continued to serve as the angry bench padding for the others when they rested.

More time passed, and the prisoners continued working on their farm chores. All but Scuzzy.

The other five prisoners were allowed to move out of the barn and into a large (locked) dormitory style room with real beds. After a while, air conditioning was installed in their room. After a few more days, they were given a TV set to watch as well. Shortly after that, a satellite dish was installed to bring in more than just local programming. As their comfort level rose, the prisoners’ acceptance of their captivity grew. Only a light guard was placed on their still-locked room now; one outside the door and one outside their window.

Scuzzy’s sleeping arrangements remained unchanged.

There were no attempts by any of the other five to escape, for fear of being made to go back to the uncomfortable conditions they had faced upon their arrival here. Some of them were actually living in more comfortable quarters and eating better food now than they had been for a long time prior to their imprisonment here, and saw no reason to be in a hurry to leave. Yes, the work was hard, but they were being treated better than they were treated at home, and for the first time they felt useful. Even their once vengeful guards treated them with more dignity now than their own families often had.

Scuzzy, on the other hand, remained an object of utter contempt and was thoroughly detested by all the guards. Whereas only two guards (armed only with hunting knives and baseball bats) were assigned to guard all the other prisoners at night, Scuzzy by himself was assigned four - and these were armed with charged Tasers as well as the knives and bats! And often, in the middle of the night, one guard would be posted to look out for anyone else coming toward the barn while the other three paid Scuzzy a visit in his cell and tormented him all night in ways that would not leave any incriminating marks. Their- Tasers, even used at low power, seemed to need frequent recharging from considerable use. Scuzzy was never seriously hurt, but the lack of sleep and their constant harassment began to leave him exhausted and dispirited.

On a typical night, three guards would come in, place additional restraints on him so that he could not even struggle, gag him, sit on top of him, and shock him repeatedly with their Tasers. If Scuzzy struggled too much, one of them would simply sit upon his face until he quieted down (for one reason or the other). Then, once he’d recovered, he would get more ‘shock therapy’. His genitals were their favorite target of course, although his feet got their share of attention too. At the lowest setting, the specially made Tasers were still agonizing – yet more arousing than any vibrator ever made.

Sometimes up to a dozen of the young guards would gather together in the barn at the dead of night without Vincent’s knowledge to have a special session with Scuzzy. They would haul him out of his cell, strip him completely naked, place specially made leather restraints (held together by a sturdy chain) on his wrists, and hang him by his wrists until his feet dangled several inches off the floor. Then they would surround him with their Taser guns and stroke his body everywhere with them. Big fat sparks would assail his thighs, underarms, belly, feet, buttocks, and groin all at the same time. Scuzzy’s screams would have been audible for miles were he not so thoroughly gagged that his teen-aged tormentors themselves could barely hear him at all.

And yet Scuzzy never once made any complaint to Vincent. It is uncertain if this was because he was convinced Vincent already knew and had sanctioned these nightly torture sessions, or if he felt that pleading mercy to the boy he considered his worst enemy to be even worse than the torture itself. Scuzzy felt that Vincent was the sole cause of all his problems, and perhaps he stubbornly refused to give Vincent the satisfaction of his crawling to him and begging him to make his torturers stop their nightly visits.

And so, with Vincent unaware of any of this, the nightly torture sessions continued. In fact, they got progressively worse for Scuzzy night after night. Some of the boys felt that torture by Taser lacked a personal touch somehow, and so they came up with many more creative ideas just for the sake of variety. One particular favorite involved what one boy called ‘breath control’. Simply put, Scuzzy was gagged so that breathing through his mouth was impossible, and then one boy after another sat on Scuzzy’s face. They braced Scuzzy’s head with their feet as they sat or knelt so he could not turn his face away from an upward facing position, and his nose would be completely blocked. Once Scuzzy passed out, he would be revived, and another boy took his turn until Scuzzy passed out again. This was a particularly favorite activity on nights when the boys had eaten baked beans for supper and were as flatulent as cows. Farting in Scuzzy’s face was a source of great amusement to everyone but Scuzzy.

After a few weeks of this, it began to occur to Vincent that Scuzzy’s refusal to work was more than simple stupidity and a stubborn streak. He actually appeared to be growing increasingly ill. By the end of the first month of Scuzzy’s captivity, the decline of his health and strength was so shocking that Vincent launched a thorough investigation. After all, if Scuzzy became so ill that he needed expert medical attention, their entire rehabilitation scheme would be exposed and they would *all* be in trouble!

Every one of Scuzzy’s regularly assigned guards denied any knowledge of Scuzzy being mistreated, but Vincent was not convinced. One day, while everyone was away from the barn weeding the garden, Vincent had several video cameras installed at various parts of the huge barn – including one inside Scuzzy’s cell. Vincent noticed that the cell was filthier than it should be; he would have to insist that the guards clean it out better later on - after his investigation. For them to do so now would be a bad idea however; Vincent did NOT want them to know about the video cameras he was secretly installing so that all parts of the barn’s interior could be observed.

And so the next night, when several boys dragged Scuzzy – ball-gagged and mummified in duct tape from head to toe – writhing and struggling out of his cell, Vincent witnessed it from his room in the barn. The boys snagged a hook around the manacles that held Scuzzy’s feet together, and hoisted him up until he dangled upside down several feet into the air. A large metal basin about three feet in diameter and two feet deep was placed underneath Scuzzy’s head and filled with water from a hose. Once the basin was filled, Scuzzy was slowly lowered down into it head-first, writhing and thrashing…

An exceptional angry Vincent did not wait to witness more. He ran out of his room and ran straight for the barn – as furious as he had ever been in his life.

He reached the barn just as Scuzzy was being pulled out of the water; his head having already been ducked into it once. There was no doubt that this was intended to be only the first time of many; the other boys would keep ducking him over and over just long enough to make him suffer without actually drowning him. Vincent charged into the barn and cut their fun short however. He sternly ordered the boys to get Scuzzy freed of that duct tape and place him back inside his cell; then they were to report to Vincent in a half hour after being replaced by other guards.

Vincent gave all the guards a severe reprimand and demanded to know who else had been torturing Scuzzy without authorization. None admitted to any knowledge of anyone’s participation than themselves. Vincent did not believe them but was in a quandary. He needed the help of all his friends here to make his rehabilitation plan work. If he went too far in punishing them, they might decide to quit helping him, and the entire rehabilitation plan would collapse without the help of every one of his friends. But at the same time he could not let this intense torturing of Scuzzy continue. The plan WAS working – for the other five bullies. For the sake of their rehabilitation, it must continue. And it was more important than ever now to make Scuzzy cooperate too, or when this was all over he would be an even worse human being from his experiences than he already was, and it would never be safe for his captors to ever let him go free.

Chastened, the other boys agreed to cease tormenting Scuzzy. After all, they wanted Vincent’s plan to succeed as much as he did – they would never be entirely safe from Scuzzy (or legal authorities) ever again otherwise.

Fortunately, Vincent’s older brother Frank had some training as a medic, and (with Vincent’s assistance) was able to deal with treating the aftermath of Scuzzy’s recent ordeals without professional help having to be called in (which would have ruined everything of course). Scuzzy’s cell was thoroughly cleaned and a bed placed inside, and he was allowed to rest inside his locked cell for a week without harassment from any of the others. He was given better food, clean water, and medical attention.

But for all this, he was not even remotely grateful to Frank or Vincent. To him, they were the main cause of his sufferings. With his physical health returning, his determination to escape and wreak his revenge returned as well. He would escape this place and he would have his revenge on all of them… including his former cronies who had turned on him. They would ALL pay for what had been done to him.

He spent all his recuperation time planning and scheming with a clear mind; waiting for an opportunity to present itself. And he soon realized that there was no chance to escape while he was continually locked up inside the barn or watched like a hawk every minute of every day he was outside of it. His own stubborn streak preserved his pride at the pride not only of needless suffering by costing him the chance to make his tormentors drop their guard or placing him where he had a better opportunity to slip away. Scuzzy came up with the only logical conclusion he could think of. He hated it but he saw no alternative if he ever wanted to stop being at the mercy of his young enemies.

He would have to pretend to cooperate with his captors.

To Be Continued ---
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Haha I expected this, I did say in an earlier comment there were Stanford Prison Experiment vibes goin' on lol. glad Vincent worked it out but MAN is Scuzz one stubborn git lol I get the feeling that he's gonna go full sociopath as opposed to becoming a better person.
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Post by Jason Toddman »

RopingRingers wrote: 3 years ago Haha I expected this, I did say in an earlier comment there were Stanford Prison Experiment vibes goin' on lol. glad Vincent worked it out but MAN is Scuzz one stubborn git lol I get the feeling that he's gonna go full sociopath as opposed to becoming a better person.
Could well be. ;)

Chapter 8 - Scuzzy Goes For Broke

Scuzzy surprised everyone – guards and fellow prisoners alike – when he displayed a huge change in his attitude on his first day out of his cell after he was judged fit to work again. Rather than having to be forcibly restrained and used as a piece of (apparently much-missed) living furniture, he announced that he had learned his lesson and wished to begin doing his share of the work. This of course was greeted with much skepticism all around after his long streak of pure orneriness, but Vincent decided to give Scuzzy his chance.

Scuzzy’s former cronies were by now only lightly restrained with long hobble chains and no wrist restraints at all as they carried out their daily tasks – mostly jobs that would be the regular lot of any regular farmhand this time of year such as weeding the garden. Scuzzy however was kept on short-length hobbles and heavy manacles on his wrists, and he was given the hardest, dirtiest tasks that could be found and which honestly needed to be done – such as cleaning out the outhouse and using the muck for fertilizer in the garden. Scuzzy’s resolve to fake a better attitude almost crumbled then and there, but he kept up the facade and worked as hard as he could at this incredibly unpleasant task.

Once this was accomplished, he was sent to weed the garden in the hottest, sunniest portions furthest from the relief of shade and fresh water, and closest to places where he was the constant victim of clouds of flying, bloodthirsty insects. He was, however, allowed liberal doses of sunblock and insect repellent.

Once Scuzzy had been working hard without (too much) vocal complaint, his restrictions were gradually lifted as those of his former cronies had been. He was given more and better food, his cell was made somewhat more comfortable, and he was subjected to far less harassment from his guards than before. Sometimes he would get a visit in the middle of the night from one guard or another and taunted, but none of the guards beat him or tortured him any further for fear of incurring Vincent’s wrath if found out. As long as Scuzzy actually acted like he was trying to reform, they were willing to give him his chance. However, they still kept a watchful eye on him. Even three weeks after he began doing an honest day’s work each day, Scuzzy alone was watched more than the other five prisoners were combined.

Scuzzy had expected this would be the case however and manfully kept after it. He toiled day after day as hard as any two of the other prisoners, and even began to hear some grudging words of respect from his fellow prisoners and even one or two of the least hostile guards. And, as he had hoped, they slowly but steadily began to watch him less carefully. Day by day he was subjected to less of the hawk-like scrutiny that made escape unthinkable before. Eventually, as harvest season drew near, he felt that it was finally time to make his escape once and for all.

Scuzzy was still kept locked in the barn at night – segregated from the other prisoners. This was just as well he thought; they were now so contented with their lot that enlisting the aid of any of them was completely out of the question. In addition to that, one or more of them might fear loss of their privileges were Scuzzy to begin his escape and they made no attempt to report it or even try to thwart it by direct means. No, he was better off in a cell of his own far from the others. All he needed to do was to find a way to leave it unseen and remain undetected for just a few precious moments.

Scuzzy began to notice that fewer and fewer guards were detailed to guard him and the barn at night. From about six on the night after he began to finally work in late May, the number dwindled steadily until, by late August, he was left with only one guard at a time when he was supposed to be asleep. And so, once he was as familiar with the immediate environment around the barn as he could get from his daily work routine, he decided to strike at the next opportunity.

He had gotten into the habit of keeping track of the phases of the moon and outside weather conditions. Then, one night when he knew there was no moon to cast a betraying light upon him and when it was cloudy as well, he made his move. He began to moan and groan as if in great pain – only a bit at first to avoid suspicion, and then more or more as time passed. The guard heard, and merely told Scuzzy to knock off the noise. Scuzzy began groaning louder and more persistently as if growing more ill (and he was frankly starting to get impatient with his evidently unheeding guard). Finally, more annoyed than curious about the fuss Scuzzy was making, the guard decided to investigate the commotion. With a muttered curse, he opened Scuzzy’s cell with every intention of beating its noisy occupant unconscious with the nightstick he carried in his other hand.

But the nightstick was abruptly yanked out of his hand as he stuck his head in through the doorway, and it was the annoyed guard who wound up sleeping the rest of the night away. He did so in just his skivvies and thoroughly bound however, for Scuzzy stripped his military uniform from him, put it on himself for a disguise, and then hogtied the guard with his own handcuff and leg restraints. Checking to make sure the coast was clear; Scuzzy locked the door of his cell behind him as he left to make sure the danger of the discovery of his escape was less immediate. Then, adopting a bit of a swagger, he walked boldly out of the barn rather than sneak out as another person might have done – fooling anyone who didn’t get too close a look at him that he was just another guard rather than the prisoner he was guarding.

He saw none of the other guards close by, and took a quick walk to the back side of the barn to get out of sight of the farmhouse and anyone inside or near it. Once behind the barn, he was in almost total darkness. At this point, he quickened his steps as quickly as he dared in a totally dark and almost totally unfamiliar area. He didn’t know where he was once he was away from the immediate area of the farm, but he knew he had to travel far and fast before his escape was discovered if he was to avoid recapture.

The one major flaw in his plan now presented itself. Traveling in a dark, unfamiliar area on a dark, moonless night was generally not a wise course of action, but Scuzzy decided the risks of this were far less onerous than being caught by his captors. He would only get this one chance, he was sure. If he failed, they would never give him another chance; his captivity would remain too restrictive after this ‘escapade’ for a long time to come. It was definitely now or never; it was too late to turn back now.

Scuzzy had taken the broken handle of a hoe with him after he left the barn to use as a weapon were he to face opposition. He hadn’t, but now he found an even better use for it – he used it to feel his way around the dark woods he entered as a blind man would use a cane, for in these unlighted woods he was indeed totally blind. In this he hoped he could somehow maintain a straight line and find his way to safety. At first he was guided by the light from the farm – as a beacon to draw away from rather than approach. But as he got further away from the farm and the light around him steadily faded to nothing, the pace he could maintain without tripping over roots and rocks or bumping into trees was reduced as well. Finally, his rate of progress was reduced to almost nothing as he found himself trying to wade through dense, thorny bushes or into thick pools of reeking mud.

Finally, he lost all sense of direction and was so weary that he felt he had to rest. But both problems were solved when he suddenly saw the bobbling glow of several flashlights far in the distance to one side of him and the sound of angry youthful voices. Now he knew for the first time in hours which way to go – in the opposite direction of those lights! And suddenly he didn’t feel all that tired anymore as a surge of adrenaline gave him the strength to renew his flight away from his enemies.

The darkness around him began to grow less intense, and Scuzzy realized with a stab of dismay that night was ending and a new dawn beginning. But then he drew some hope from it. Light to see by would help him more than it would help his pursuers; he could now see his way better and get further from them – as long as they didn’t see him too soon. Scuzzy began to walk faster, and faster – he broke into a run…

..and crashed headlong into an unseen chain-link fence!

Scuzzy was stunned for a few precious moments, but quickly recovered himself. Looking around quickly, he saw no end of the fence in sight in either direction. Moreover the terrain on either side of him seemed to lead only into stretches of morass that would be exceptionally unpleasant to wade through. He decided that the best course of action would be to scale the fence. He looked up to gauge the difficulty of the climb – and noticed the razor-wire topping the fence for the very first time.

Scuzzy was bewildered; where the hell was he, and would hazarding the climb make his situation better or even worse?!

Before he could figure out the best course of action, he heard the cocking of a rifle close behind him and stern command of “Halt!”

But it wasn’t a boy’s voice he heard, but a man’s!

It wasn’t one of his youthful tormentors, but someone else! He was saved!

His heart filled with joy at hearing an adult voice at long last, Scuzzy began to turn around to explain what was happening, but a stern command of “Freeze!” made him think better of this. Trembling, he ceased to move and lost all resolve to speak aloud as well. “Hands where I can see them!” brought instant compliance. “Turn around, slowly!” also brought compliance – more slowly perhaps (as commanded) but also more willingly.

Scuzzy saw not one but three Marine MPs staring coldly at him with M-16 rifles pointed directly at him. “You are under arrest for trespassing on military property!” the closest one – a sergeant – informed Scuzzy coldly as one of the others moved behind Scuzzy to handcuff him.

Military property? He was inside the Marine Base? But how could *that* be? He had been kidnapped by a bunch of kids from school and locked up and tortured and made to work like a slave on some farm - and all this time he was inside the Marine base?!

“Wait! I can explain! I was kidnapped, and…” Scuzzy began to say.

“Be quiet or you will be gagged!” the sergeant ordered Scuzzy sternly. “I am taking you to my superior officer. You can explain everything to him!”

Thoroughly subdued but hopeful that he could make a military officer see reason, Scuzzy held his peace as he was led away through the woods by the three Marines. By the time it was full daylight, they came to a small brick building beside a narrow paved road. Scuzzy was made to sit in a couch – still handcuffed and clad in his now-extremely-ragged and filthy stolen uniform – in a small locked room. He was left alone for what seemed like hours with nothing to do but stare at the four walls around him.

The sergeant entered the room. “Come with me,” he said. “I am taking you to my commanding officer now.”

Scuzzy was taken outside and led to a car that was idling in front of the building. It was like a police car, and had a thick metal grille between the front seat and the rear. Still handcuffed, Scuzzy was eased into the back seat and then, much to his surprise, he was blindfolded. “What are you doing this for?” he demanded. “This isn’t standard procedure when you arrest someone, is it?”

“No,” the MP Sergeant admitted. “But I am told you are a possible spy, and I was ordered to do this for the drive over to the major’s office. You will sit here quietly and wait for the driver. I am told he will arrive shortly.”

Scuzzy heard the car door close and lock him in. Unable to do anything else, he sat there quietly as he was bid to do. A few minutes later, he heard a car pull over beside the one he was in, and a car door open.

“Sir?” he heard the sergeant say to someone. “This is highly unusual. I was expecting someone else to come here to…”

“That’s okay, sergeant,” Scuzzy heard another man’s voice answer. “I’ve decided to handle this matter personally. I will leave my car here and come back for it later. I will question the prisoner myself and see to his return to where he belongs. Dismissed!”

A moment later he heard someone open the door to the driver’s seat, climbing, and close the door. Without a word to Scuzzy, the man started up the car and began to drive.

“Where are we going?” Scuzzy asked; his voice trembling with fear.

“I am taking you home, Scuzzy,” the second man’s voice answered him.

Scuzzy accepted this at face value and relaxed for a while, but something was wrong. He couldn’t figure out what it was until the car suddenly stopped a mere five minutes later. “How did you know my name?” Scuzzy asked in puzzlement.

Suddenly the car door beside him opened and the blindfold was removed from his eyes. He turned to look, and saw several boys in military uniforms look back at him.

“Welcome back home, Scuzzy!” Vincent said to him as he helped Scuzzy out of the car. “We’ve got your new room all cleaned up and ready for you!”

Vincent pointed to one side, and Scuzzy turned to look to see what he meant.

He saw a small iron cage.

Scuzzy struggled as his captors led him to his new home, but resistance was futile.

To Be Continued ---
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Post by Xtc »

I'm glad there's another chapter to come because I haven't got time to read at present. The juices are flowing!
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Post by DeeperThanRed »

The bait-and-switch with Scuzzy's great escape was simply amazing. This might be my favorite chapter so far.
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Post by blackbound »

Loved chapter 8 (and especially 7!). And here I thought Vincent was weak!
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Post by Johnsnow »

Loved it! Cant wait for the next chapter though i would image Vincent got a little but of a stern talking to from his brother
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Post by RopingRingers »

Well, for how much of that I guessed would happen lol, that was an exhilarating part. Only one chapter left, what's in store for our runaway bully lol
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Chapter 9 - Scuzzy Pays the Piper

The next couple of weeks were miserable ones for Scuzzy.

For one thing, he was not let out of that cage the entire time except for mercy breaks three times a day to use the outhouse (under heavy guard each time) and stretch his legs for about fifteen minutes at a time. However, during the first of those break times each day, he was also secured to a wooden post with his bare face facing outward, and given ten lashes with a riding crop. These lashes were applied upon his back, legs, and buttocks impartially. Afterward they were medicated to prevent infection.

He was given plenty of water to drink and to sponge bathe with, but that was about it. He was given nothing to eat except plain bread and an occasional fruit, and nothing to do but to sit in his cage and think. Most times he was also gagged so that he could not speak either.

Day and night his cage was left out in the open, where he was exposed to the wind and rain, the hot sun during the day, and the chill of night (often uncomfortable even during the summer as he wore nothing but a set of Speedos). He could see the others as they passed by him but no one even looked at him most times anymore; not even to jeer o laugh at him. Unless he was being fed, given water, or taken to the outhouse, Scuzzy was completely ignored. And even when his basic needs were being taken care of, his guards talked to him as little as possible. Even being imprisoned in the barn was luxury compared to the treatment he received after his failed escape attempt.

As harvest season approached, Scuzzy was let out of the cage and given a diaper and some tattered old clothes to wear. A small canvas sack with eye holes and a hole to breathe through was placed over his head and secured in place with rope, and then a straw hat placed over this. Scuzzy was then tied to a wooden post lying on the ground in the middle of the cornfield. There was a crossbeam for his arms and another for his feet, and these were secured tied to them. This post was then hauled erect and sunk into a hole in the ground, and Scuzzy began to serve a new purpose… as a scarecrow!

He made a very good scarecrow. His movements (though feeble, they were still quite noticeable) and his cries scared the crows and other varmints right out of the vicinity! He was left there day and night, and his diaper changed once a day right where he was, for three weeks, until the corn was harvested and the need for a scarecrow in the cornfield was ended. Then, after a day or two to rest, Scuzzy the scarecrow was set up in the bean-field to guard the crops there until they were ready to be harvested too. Once the beans were harvested, it was time to guard the pumpkins.

By this time, Scuzzy’s five cronies had learned their lesson and were freed to become useful members of society. Each was given help getting their GEDs so that they could acquire decent jobs. By mid-autumn, all were gainfully employed and none of them were ever in any trouble ever again.

By Halloween, it was obvious that Scuzzy would never be reformed, and so he was disposed of. A sleeping potion was placed in his food and while Scuzzy slept he was secretly dropped off elsewhere. He was left gagged and handcuffed to a flagpole, wearing a dress and woman’s makeup, in the dead of night…in his own neighborhood.

It was days before anyone bothered to try to free him; it was too much fun hurling taunts, garbage, and mud at him. No one paid any attention to his strident assertions afterward about being kidnapped and forced to work on a farm at the Marine Base.

Once he was freed, Scuzzy fled town and never bothered anyone ever again.
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Post by Xtc »

I hope you will post more stories. It's good to have you back.
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Post by Jason Toddman »

Xtc wrote: 3 years ago I hope you will post more stories. It's good to have you back.
Plenty more... some complete and some which are still unfinished.
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Post by RopingRingers »

Well that was shorter an ending than expected lol and yet not as dark as I expected. You could do a follow up called "Scuzzie's return" lol. "but what about the final line" you say? Hey, if Hollywood can get away with retcons, so can you 😅 great story bro 🔥EDIT one afterthought though - I can understand all the kids not caring, but surely once he was in his own neighbourhood his parents would have helped/believed him as he'd been missing all summer/how he was found lol
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Post by Jason Toddman »

RopingRingers wrote: 3 years ago Well that was shorter an ending than expected lol and yet not as dark as I expected. You could do a follow up called "Scuzzie's return" lol. "but what about the final line" you say? Hey, if Hollywood can get away with retcons, so can you 😅 great story bro 🔥EDIT one afterthought though - I can understand all the kids not caring, but surely once he was in his own neighbourhood his parents would have helped/believed him as he'd been missing all summer/how he was found lol
Not all parents are loving and caring, and perhaps Scuzzy's parents (if they're alive at all) were the worst ones imaginable. Which might provide at least one reason why Scuzzy was as mean as he was. Not that it excuses his behavior, but it might be at least a partial explanation for it. Anyway, for the sake of this story, i'll just declare that Scuzzy had no parents or relatives and was a failed product of the foster care system. Maybe Vincent knew this and could relate seeing as his own parents were dead; giving him reason to try to reform Scuzzy. But people have to want to change, and Scuzzy didn't.
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Post by RopingRingers »

Haha sorry to be "that guy" Jase, poking holes in your shit 😅 but you sewed every one of them right shut again lol
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Post by Jason Toddman »

RopingRingers wrote: 3 years ago Haha sorry to be "that guy" Jase, poking holes in your shit 😅 but you sewed every one of them right shut again lol
No worries; keep me on my toes. Even in my 60s I still enjoy the occasional mental exercise. :D
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Post by RopingRingers »

Glad to be of help :) might I ask, have you read any of my work? And I apologize if Ive asked before, it's just there's lots of folks on here so I lose track who I've asked what lol. Plus my memory is like Swiss cheese 😅
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Post by Jason Toddman »

RopingRingers wrote: 3 years ago Glad to be of help :) might I ask, have you read any of my work? And I apologize if Ive asked before, it's just there's lots of folks on here so I lose track who I've asked what lol. Plus my memory is like Swiss cheese 😅
I haven't really had time to read much here tbh. I'll have to try to amend that lapse sometime.
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