By "Mike"

Text Reader:

Randy drove his patrol car out of Woody's and waited for the old metal gate to open at the end of the gravel drive. He noticed all the stadium lights were on at the rodeo arena, and a good number of pickup trucks in the parking area. It became clear that the cowboys, despite their burning backsides, had gathered on their own to get a jump on the work for the next day, since they would lose so many hours at the water tower. Randy followed Bob's truck into the lot.

"I love these boys," Bob said, getting out of his truck. "I didn't ask them to do this". Randy called Sandy to tell her he would be late and not to wait up. He parked his patrol car and quickly found Foreman Jeff Miller.

"Jeff, put me to work," he said. Give me a job".

Jeff looked down at his clip board and, wincing in pain from his fifteen-lick paddling, said, "Sheriff I know they can use some help setting up the concessions. I haven't been able to take any of the guys away from the chutes."

Randy found the refrigerated truck, where he stacked cases of beer onto a hand cart, and pushed it toward the concession area. There were about five of the boys' girlfriends waiting for someone to start delivering items to them.

"Hello ladies. I heard you could use some help. Shall I put as much as I can in the coolers? The beer is already cold and we've got to keep it cold for a day and a half."

There was no response from the girls, who did their best to ignore him. Obviously, they were mad because their boyfriends got their Wrangler butts paddled, and wanted nothing to do with Randy, even his help. He rephrased the question hoping for an answer. He got none.

"Well, I'm going to fill the coolers. I've got more beer coming, soft drinks, water and bags of ice. Is there a separate cooler for the water and cokes?" No response.

"Ladies, do you know the answer, or do you want to move these things twice? Right now, I'm all the help you're going to get."

One of the girls glared at him, but said "There are two more coolers in the back. Actually those are for the beer and the ones in front are for the soft drinks and water."

"Okay, thanks."

He stacked the beer in the back room and the girls began opening the cases and filling the coolers. The conversation was over. Randy made trip after trip with the loaded hand cart, soon wondering if his shoulder or his ass hurt more. His ass did - it wasn't even close. He was covered in sweat. It was nearly 10:00. Next came cases of candy bars, bagged candies, peanuts, chips etc. He unloaded the entire contents of the two long concession stands by himself in about an hour and a half. The girls stocked everything as soon as he brought it to them, never once acknowledging his presence. Randy trucked in multiple bags of ice, and iced down all the beer, and stacked the rest in the walk-in freezer. The other drinks had not been refrigerated long and could wait until Sunday morning. He saw himself out.

On his final trip to the truck with the handcart, he came across a group of guys, which included Justy and Grady. They were wrapping up. They had been commiserating with sore ass stories, but smiled to Randy and thanked him for his help.

"Good night, Sheriff" one of the cowboys said.

"Actually, it's going to be a long night for me. I'm headed to Walmart to pick up all the paint and supplies for tomorrow."

"Do you need any help, Sheriff?"

Of course he needed help. He didn't know how he was going to manage by himself, but hadn't counted on this unlikely workforce.

"Sure. And a couple of pickups", he said, heaving a sigh of relief. They were on it, dividing into several groups. Randy left his patrol car in the parking lot and got into Justy's pickup. He turned around to find Miguel, the young man who had had severe anxiety a couple of hours earlier, during the paddling.

"Miguel, I've been thinking about you, son. How are you doing?"

"I'm okay, sheriff". There was a slight accent, but he was completely fluent. "I'm sorry I got so upset earlier."

"Don't worry. You took a hard lickin'. Everybody did."

"It's not the licks, sir. I deserved those. It's just that ... I've never been in any trouble before. Not at home in Mexico, not in school, not ever."

Justy added, "Miguel is the first one on either side of his family to go to college."

"That's right" Miguel continued. "I thought about what you said, about the law and being expelled. I thought about my family, especially my father who is so proud of me". He choked back tears. "I thought about what I almost threw away."

"It's okay, Miguel" Randy said softly. "You'll make your family proud. Don't worry any more."

"Thank you, Sheriff, thank you."

The two trucks pulled into Walmart and the groups went in together. Randy had ordered the buckets of custom paint, but the guys added painting supplies, brushes, rollers etc., before adding heavy duty trash bags and pairs of gloves for all the broken glass.

"I don't suppose you guys have any of this shit leftover from the other night?", Randy asked sarcastically.

"No, Sir, Grady responded, "Just some paint the wrong color".

One of the guys paused and put his hands on his ass, wincing in pain.

"If it makes you feel any better", Randy said to the group. "I feel your pain. I got ten licks myself."

"WHAT?" the group exclaimed.

"David and Bob said they had never been on the handle end of a paddle before. I let 'em learn on me."

"Are you serious?", Justy said in disbelief.

"Yep. They didn't know how hard to hit or how to do it. Woody taught 'em. On MY ass."

"YOU got a lick from WOODY?", Justy laughed.

"You're damned right I did. Two actually, just like you guys. Holy shit that guy can swing a paddle. And then he had David and Bob take turns on my ass until they got it right. The first few didn't count, but I ended up with ten good ones, same as you got. I wanted to feel what you guys were going to feel."

The group turned their carts and headed down the next aisle, where they ran into Deputy Dave. Dave was in charge of all the drinks for tomorrow and was pushing one cart and pulling another. The guys helped him with it. What they didn't see were the three large briskets specially-ordered from the local meat market in his patrol car outside. The weary, butt-sore group made their way to the cashiers.

"Are you paying for all this, Sheriff?, one of the guys asked.

"Not really," Randy said. I have a contingency fund that's unrestricted. Two hundred dollars a year. I've never used it. I figured now's the time".

It was after midnight when Randy finally made it home. Grady and Justy unloaded the cold items and iced things down in ice chests. Grady crashed at Justy's, as he often did, and nothing made Joyce happier than feeding Justy and his friends. Justy and Grady agreed to meet him at their trucks in the driveways at 6:00 to load up and get to the water tower.

Randy took a hot shower, letting the hot water run over his aching shoulder. He turned around after drying himself, and looked at his red, bruised ass in the mirror. His fingers left a trail of white marks where they touched the inflamed skin, before it quickly turned back to flaming red. It had been five hours since his ten-plus licks, and the initial fiery pain had now settled into a constant, deep burn. He knew from his own experience that tomorrow there would be deep bruising pain that would last for days. He reached into his medicine cabinet for one of his left-over pain pills from his shoulder surgery where they had been for two years. He didn't know if they would work on his shoulder or his butt, or if they would work at all after all this time. He put on clean underwear and slid into bed next to Sandy and Daisy, his red dachshund that he adored, who immediately curled up next to him. He set his clock for 5:30. Despite his pain everywhere, he was asleep in seconds.


It seemed like minutes when his alarm sounded at 5:30. Sandy groaned when she heard it, but was relieved that it wasn't hers. He instinctively sat up and swung his feet to the floor, and was hit with a solid, aching pain deep in his butt. He winced as the full effect of the night before came painfully to him, and winced harder when he stood up. It was then that he really began to feel it. Another check of his ass revealed less red, with deep blue and purple bruises making their way to the still-hot surface. He decided not to tell Sandy about that part of the day before. Or his shoulder. He brought her her coffee and started to tell her everything.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU PADDLED JUSTY?" Sandy demanded. She didn't care about the other sixty guys.

"Sandy, I had to treat them all the same. Justy understands that."

"Do you know what a faithful son he is to Joyce, especially now that she's sick again?", she shouted. "Do you remember all the times he mowed our lawn and chopped wood while your shoulder was in that sling, kept Daisy when we went out of town, helped you with projects? Sure Randy! There's a young man who needs to be paddled!"

"Sandy. Would you rather go visit him in jail? Would you rather they all go to jail, even the girls? They committed a felony. Not to mention getting expelled with a permanent record. What would that do to Joyce? Believe me, he's grateful. They all are!"

"Randy", she started. "If one student in my class cheats on a test do I flunk the whole class? NO. You punish the guilty and only the guilty. You know Justy had nothing to do with that water tower!"

"Sandy, it's different. They are an organization" Randy explained. "They share credit and blame for everything. It's what Wranglers is all about."

"Wranglers is all about a bunch of drunk young men playing cowboy! You're as bad as they are."

"Sandy. I can't talk to you when you're like this. Please help me through this day. We can argue this later. I'll see you at the water tower at noon." There was no response as Sandy angrily rolled over and turned out her light.

Randy's argument with Sandy over Justy had taken longer than he thought. It was 6:10. Justy and Grady had loaded everything in the trucks, and Justy was attaching his trailer with his riding mower to the back of his truck. A truck with a couple of other Wranglers pulled up. Randy carried out a heavy ice chest with great difficulty.

"Looky here, fellas!", he said, as the crowd gathered to see what was inside. Inside were three large briskets, which he had somehow managed to rub and season the night before, though he had little memory of it. The sight got the boys excited. There was no hint of anger, resentment, or hard feelings anywhere. It was over and done with, with only the healing to be done. The group chatted around Justy's pickup for a few minutes before leaving for the water tower and picnic grounds, while Randy finished his coffee. Randy noticed Justy's Wrangler paddle on the bed of his truck, where he had tossed it, probably from the new member picnic a few weeks before.

"So," Randy said. "What's the word on the street today?"

"Everybody's okay", Grady said. "They're plenty sore, but they're cool with everything."

"Really!", Randy exclaimed. "You should see the girlfriends. I got the message loud and clear last night. They're pissed off. I'm glad I locked my gun in my patrol car. They would have shot me with it."

"They'll come around", one of the other boys said.

"But your cool factor went way up!", Justy said.

"WHAT?", Randy asked.

"Oh yeah.", Justy said. "All the guys think you're cool, especially seeing you pitch in helping last night."

Grady added, "And everyone is grateful for the alternative punishment you gave us. I know I'd much rather have a sore butt for a few days than be playing harmonica in a jail cell right now."

Randy knew he'd done the right thing. Maybe Sandy and the girls would come around.

Justy had a minute with Randy and Said, "Randy, do you mind if Grady and I ride with you out there? One of these guys can drive my truck and trailer."

The three got into the patrol car. Justy moved Randy's paddle off the front seat and stood it up on the floor against the seat by his leg.

Justy started what he knew would be a difficult conversation. He had a lot to confess.

"Randy", he began, "I know you think I was not involved the other night."

Yes," Randy said cautiously.

"I was there."

"What?" Randy exclaimed. "I can't wait to tell Sandy. She's so pissed off at me for paddling you. She doesn't care about the other sixty guys. Sorry Grady", he added apologetically.

"Please don't tell her" Justy paused. "I'm really ashamed of myself".

"And he brought Debbi.", Grady interjected.

"Shut up Grady!" Justy shouted.

"What? You brought a girl?" Randy shouted. Justy nodded shamefully.

"And he bought the paint." Grady added.

"SHUT UP GRADY!", Justy shouted.

Grady continued. "Justy, you know you'll feel better when he knows. You said you didn't sleep all night with this on your conscience."

"You bought the paint??" Randy said, in disbelief.

"Like you never did anything to impress a girl!" Justy said defensively.

"Justy." I climbed a water tower to impress a girl. I didn't tag the fucking thing with profanity next to an elementary school!"

"Well," Justy said lowering his voice, "any wild streak I had you took care of last night."

Justy sank into the seat. "So, I guess you owe me another couple of these?", he said, picking up the paddle and looking at it.

"Oh I owe you a hell of a lot more than a couple. You lied to me! Plus, you bought the fucking paint! You're gonna get what my pledge trainer used to call a "five-licker". That's five of those, my friend", nodding to the paddle before adding, "Plus two more for bringing the girl you impressed!"

"I know. But I didn't want to tell you in front of everyone. I wanted to tell you this way. Face to face."

"No", Randy said, "I need to think about this for a while. Forget this for now. I need you to work today. We will revisit this after all this is over. I'm not sure when I'll deliver that five-licker. But I will give it to you. I may have you sweat it a while".

"Plus," Randy added after a long pause, "I think I threw out my shoulder last night."

"WHAT?" Justy shouted. "The one you had worked on a couple of years ago?"

The subject was changed, and the issue between them was on the back burner. For now.

"What did Sandy say?" Justy asked.

"Sandy doesn't know." A long pause, before Randy added sheepishly, "Besides, ... I'm hoping it goes away."

"It's not going to."

"I KNOW THAT!" Randy shouted.

The somber situation was broken by Justy's incredulous laughter.

"You threw your shoulder out giving licks! I wonder how many you gave?"

"We figured it out after." Randy said, pulling a small piece of paper out of his cup holder and handing it to Justy to read.

"Man," Justy said. "You all gave six hundred and fifteen licks total. That's fifty nine men at ten licks each, plus eleven guys got two extra. Plus, Jeff got fifteen total. Randy, you gave two-hundred-sixty-one licks last night! No wonder you blew out your shoulder."

"Sheeeit.", Grady drawled, shaking his head. "My share of those are hurtin' like hell. I hate gettin' licks".

"Well Grady," Randy said, "then you joined the wrong fraternity".

"Add to that", Randy continued, "Two guys had barn duty so I guess we'll lick them later."

"Randy," Justy said with a cautious smile, "You take off a couple of licks and I won't limp in front of Sandy."

"Don't fuck with me", Randy said. "I'm not sure that five-licker is enough!"

The mood in the patrol car was solemn as they approached the defaced water tower. They were anxious to get this started.


Woody and his hot charcoal grill were happy to see the three briskets, which he said he would smoke for at least three hours. The cowboys, today dressed mostly in shorts, tee shirts and flip flops were already at work. Some wore cowboy hats and boots with their shorts. They didn't wait for instructions, they just went to work as their numbers increased. Deputy Dave Keller had put out a spread of breakfast tacos, donuts, orange juice and coffee, which they devoured. There were about thirty guys, the other half of the group was working at the arena, where Dave had set out a similar spread.

It's interesting watching cowboys work. Ropes came out of truck beds and were tied together to lift supplies to the top. Up went buckets of paint, brushes, supplies and bottles of water and soft drinks. Half the group worked on the tower, while the other half started the long process of picking up every speck of glass and broken bottles. They had loud music playing, some country, some hard rock and even rap. They knew the words to everything. There was a leaf blower that was reversed to vacuum up small pieces of glass too small to pick up by hand. The hours before noon sped by, before Randy noticed Sandy's car pull up and Daisy jumped out. Sandy had made a huge salad, had buckets of potato salad (she didn't have time to make her own) and had a couple of the guys set up serving tables for her. Woody smoked the briskets nearby and had a huge pot of barbecue beans going. Daisy ran up to all the guys and played with them,

Randy loved watching them work together like this. Mainly, it was youth. A time in their lives they would never get back. There were comments about sore asses, even a few elastic waistbands came down to compare red asses, but no complaining or anger. He tested the waters with Sandy.

"Looks great, honey. Do you want me to put the potato salad in the coolers? How long can it sit out? We don't want to make anybody sick."

"Yes", she said curtly. "We wouldn't want to do anything to make any of the boys uncomfortable."

"Okay, Sandy. Look at them. Do they look uncomfortable to you?"

Then the girls arrived. The boys rushed over to meet them, and carried their trays of cookies, brownies and pies. They brought them to an empty table where Randy and Sandy were standing. Of course, as soon as the girls arrived, a lot of the guys' shirts came off and the mating ritual continued as it always does.

"These look delicious!", Sandy said. "You girls are so nice to put these together so fast!"

"No problem, Mrs. G." one of them said with a sideways glace at Randy. "We'll do anything for you."

There were a couple of more snide remarks before Sandy spoke.

"You know, girls, if you touched that water tower the other night, you are felons too. Your boyfriends took the heat for you last night, and that's the only reason all of you are not in jail right now, crying to your daddies. My husband did everything he could to keep all of you out of the courts and in school. So if I were you, I'd loose the attitude."

"Oh shit I love this woman!", Randy thought. That was an exact quote of his from their argument that morning. About that time, Justy and a couple of guys walked up offering to help. He did not limp. Not completely over it, Sandy squinted her eyes at Randy and said,

"What happened to your shoulder?" Randy stammered to come up with a reply.

"Stupid thing" Justy blurted. "He picked up an ice chest that was way too heavy for him, and he was too ashamed to ask for a hand from these younger guys."

"Figures.", she said before walking away. "Well, if you have to wear that sling again, I'm not zipping your pants this time."

"Thanks, man." Randy said, as soon as Sandy was out of earshot. Good save. I owe you one."

"I'll settle for a one-lick credit."

"No way", Randy said smiling. "Sandy still thinks you're an innocent little victim. You're getting that five-licker, alright, and two extra. Just as soon as your ass and my shoulder get over last night. At Woody's. That's a promise."

"Well then. I wish you a long and slow recovery!", Justy said.

The second group arrived and everyone broke for lunch. A few of the guys arrived on horseback from the nearby arena (That must have hurt). Mountains of coleslaw, barbecue, beans, green salad and potato salad disappeared. There was nothing to clean up. They swarmed the dessert table. Randy stayed away from the desserts, since he knew they were not intended for him. They washed it all down with cold water, gallons of sweet tea and cold beer. Yes, beer.

"Aluminum cans, gentlemen! No glass." Randy quipped.

The girls were preparing to leave so the guys could switch places and go back to work. Randy turned to help Sandy when he noticed the group of girls crossing toward him with a plate of desserts.

"We noticed you didn't get any dessert, Sheriff" one of them said. Randy didn't know if Sandy or their boyfriends had set them straight. Either way, it was a peace offering which he gladly accepted.

"Thank you, ladies", he said smiling. "You don't know how happy this makes me." The girls smiled before turning to leave.


The new workforce went to work on the water tower and the picnic cleanup. Coach Bob Ryan was walking with a slight limp from the hard paddling he took the night before. He headed toward Randy, who was at the picnic area with two young men who had been working at the arena all morning. Bob introduced the young men and they shook hands.

"Cody and Marty had barn duty last night and weren't able to make the meeting," Bob stated. There was a long pause. Randy knew at once that they were the two missing signatures. The mood shifted from light to heavy, and the smiles faded. Randy had forgotten about the two boys. He was tired of hurting young men, and was caught up in the festive mood of the workday.

"Sheriff", Cody said, "you know why were here. We're ready to take our licks, sir."

"Oh shit" Randy said. "Look guys, there's a lot going on here today. Pitch in on the ground crew and we'll handle this after the rodeo at Woody's."

"Actually, Randy," Bob said, "I suggested that. The waiting is killing them, and the other guys are starting to razz them about it".

"Please Sheriff", the other young man said. "We're ready now and we don't want to wait any more. We want to get it over with." Randy again tried to delay the paddlings, feeling the pain in his right shoulder.

"Bob, aren't we a little close to your rodeo? I say we wait till after. What events are you guys in?"

"I'm saddle bronc", said Cody, the blond, taller one. Marty, the stockier one said "Bull rider".

"Shit", Randy said. "Bob, I say we wait."

"Randy", Bob said emphatically , "I've already talked to them. They are ready to get this over with."

Randy looked out at the guys hard at work. The girls were getting ready to leave, and some guys were carrying things to Sandy's car for her.

"Alright." he said. "But I won't embarrass them in front of the girls." He remembered Justy's paddle in the back of his pickup. "Let's meet at Justy's pickup after they leave." Randy went over to help Sandy.

Justy was saying a long goodbye to "Debbi" Peterson, his current girlfriend and tomorrow's crowned Queen of the Rodeo. She was camera ready, in full heavy makeup, big blonde hair, and white Stetson hat with a rhinestone crown in the front.

"I wish that Queen Debbie bitch would take her tongue out of Justy's throat", Sandy said disgustedly.

"Nice, Sandy", Randy said, shaking his head.

"Well, he's much too good for her. The other girls say she's just tooling him around so he'll be in all her queen pictures tomorrow because he's so gorgeous."

"That he is", Randy agreed.

"Plus', she said, "I'm sure he doesn't mind escorting the rodeo queen".

"I, uh,", Randy began, then lowered his voice, "I don't think it's her crown he's interested in."

"UGH! Well I just threw up in my mouth!", Sandy said disgustedly. "Here they come."

"So, Debbi!" Sandy smiled. "Are you so excited about tomorrow!!" Randy knew that smile well.

"Yes, I am, well, I WAS until I saw tomorrow's program", Debbi said curtly. "My name is spelled "D-e-b-b-i-E" throughout the entire program. I dropped the last "e" years ago."

(You sure as hell had it on your megaphone when you survived the "Alpine Cheerleader Pyramid Collapse" of 2015, Sandy thought. Too bad you weren't one of the girls in neck collars afterwards.)

"My daddy tried to get them all reprinted, but it was too late to get it done in time. Grrrr", Debbi said.

"Here Justy, honey ", Sandy began extra sweetly, shoving a plastic bag in his chest, "Put this with the rest of the trash."

Randy stared straight ahead, not making eye contact with anyone.

He walked Sandy to her car, when she said, "I'll see you later at home".

"Sandy," Randy paused, "Thank you", meaning more than just the food. Sandy smiled, Daisy scampered in and the girls were gone.

The two young cowboys, Deputy Dave, Woody and Coach Bob made their way to Justy's pickup. The mood was serious, with all of them not wanting to be there. Except Woody, of course.

"I, uh... I've got a confession to make," Randy began. "I threw out my shoulder."

"The one you had worked on a couple of years ago?", Dave exclaimed.

"YES." He was getting tired of that question.

"Did you lift something heavy?", Dave asked.

"No", Randy replied angrily. "I gave sixty guys over two-hundred-and fifty licks last night!"

"SHIT", Woody said. "Does Sandy know?" Randy shook his head. "No, not unless one of you guys tells her."

"So", he said, addressing the two young men, "I am going to have to rely on these three guys. Even though I'm not swinging the paddle today, I want you each to understand that this is from me. Understood?"

"Yes, sir", they said in unison.

There were two pickups parked side by side. Randy opened both tailgates with his good arm.

"Let's get this over with. I want you each to stand in front of a tailgate, back up about three feet, bend over and grab the edge. Like this."

The sound of the guys working got quiet, as word spread of what was about to take place. The guys watched in solidarity from the water tower, the picnic area or wherever they were standing as the two guys got into position. Unlike their full-dressed contemporaries from the night before, these two were dressed in light running trunks. This was going to hurt like hell.

"Gentlemen, empty your pockets"

"No pockets, Sheriff," one said sheepishly.

Randy retrieved Justy's paddle from the back of pickup number one and handed it to Woody. This paddle had "Justin Phelps" on the front above the Wrangler "W" brand, and had the words "PLEDGE TRAINER" in bold black letters running in two columns vertically down the blade. The back had a larger "W" brand and signatures of all this year's newly initiated pledges. He asked if either boy had taken a girl to the water tower. Neither had.

"Gentlemen, you are going to get ten swats. You would have gotten two from each of these men and four from me. But today, you are going to get three from Woody, three from Coach Ryan, and four from Deputy David Keller. Prepare yourselves."

Woody knew both young men from their visits to his bar. They were new members, who probably still had bruises from the picnic a few weeks prior. He knew them from when they came in with their big brothers during pledging for their "birthday swats", as well as when they and their pledge brothers had come in to his bar to satisfy a "Woody's signature on your pledge paddle" scavenger hunt item the second week of pledging. Of course, Woody's signature would only come after a hard swat.

Woody stood to the left of the first young man, a handsome athletic guy, whose fine blond hair fell over his forehead when he bent over. The tight ass before him was presented in a thin pair of cream-colored running shorts. He wore cowboy boots and a cowboy hat, from working in the barn all morning. He removed his hat, and his tee shirt was cut short, exposing a hard, athletic torso. A thin line of fine blond hair ran down the middle of his back disappearing into the elastic waistband above the darker crack of his ass, which was was clearly visible through the smooth, handkerchief-thin material. There were no underwear lines. Woody took the edge of Justy's paddle and gently raised it between Cody's spread legs, causing him to jump when it brushed his balls. "Move your junk up front, son." Both young men slipped their hands inside their waistbands and adjusted themselves and then returned to their positions.

Woody's dick was rock hard inside the crotch of his tight Wranglers as he took in the beautiful sight before him. He was raw from stroking and shooting two massive loads from watching the videos the night before, yet his dick was ready to go again. It was going to be hard to hide this one. Woody lined up the paddle, withdrew it way back and slammed it home in a hard, brutal swat.

"KA --- WHAAAAACK !!!"

Cody's head flew back on impact, in a wave of soft blond hair. He fought to remain in position.



The swats lacked the loud BANG! of the night before, without the stiff Wrangler jeans, but they made an excruciatingly loud POP! across near bare skin. The loud pops were clearly audible to the guys up on the water tower, even after the short half-second delay after impact. Woody moved to the other heavier-set young man next door and repeated the process. Bull riders were usually stocky, shorter and heavier to stay tight on the bull. His tough ass took the three swats well. Woody handed the paddle to Coach Ryan, while doing his best to conceal the hard on that was producing a wet spot on the right leg of his jeans. He was unable to film these two of course, but that didn't stop him from recording the sound of the event on his phone, which he had placed discretely in the bed of one of the trucks.

Randy knew it would be hard for Bob Ryan not to show mercy. Like Randy himself, he was tired of hurting his athletes, but all the guys were watching. Coach Ryan did his duty, giving each man three extra-hard swats that drew tears. Afterward, he handed the paddle to Deputy Dave, who wore shorts and a tee shirt, like most of the guys. Dave gave his best four swats to each man before stepping back and handing the paddle back to Randy.

After he had given each young man his best three swats, Woody moved to the front of Justy's truck, presumably to piss. As soon as he was out of sight, his hard dick jumped out as soon as he opened his fly. As the sound of hard licks, and yelps of pain filled the air, Woody discretely sprayed a long stream of cum against Justy's right-front tire. He was tucked and zipped and back at the tailgates before the last lick was given.

The two young men were crying hard by this time, with ten hard swats burning on their asses.

"Alright gentleman. This incident is closed. You may stand up'"

The two guys stood up and grabbed their burning backsides. When they turned around, their buddies burst into applause and whistles, as the two boys and the four men shook hands. Randy put an arm around the bull rider's shoulders.

"You guys go walk those off for a while. We'll see you back at the tower".

Randy put the paddle back in Justy's pickup and shut the tailgates, as the two young men walked away to the applause of their friends. The two walked a ways off, with the blond one occasionally stopping to squat down low and then stand back up, staring at the sky, hands on his ass. The sound of work resumed as the rest got back to work.

By 5:00, the entire area was cleaned up and neatly mowed. The picnic tables all had a fresh coat of paint. The tower sparkled. The guys stood around and finished the rest of the beer, recalling the events of the night before, that day, and the upcoming rodeo the next day.

Later that night, Randy was on his porch when he heard Justy's big diesel truck roll to a stop in his driveway.

"Justy!" he yelled. "Grab us both a beer." Justy and Randy kept his garage refrigerator stocked with plenty of Lone Star, Randy's favorite beer.

As Justy mounted the steps carrying the beers, he was exhausted.

"We're ready for the rodeo." Justy said, exhaling hard. "Everything's done. Coach sent us all home to get some rest".

Randy shifted in his chair and pulled out the large bag of frozen peas he had been sitting on and tossed it into the chair beside him. Justy sighed as he sat down on it, feeling the cold on his sore ass.

"Sandy thinks I'm icing my shoulder from lifting that ice chest." he said in a low voice. "She's upstairs watching TV." Justy took a swig of his beer before changing the subject.

"Remember when I told you they asked me to run for Foreman next year?" Justy asked. "Well, turns out I'm not unopposed. Cooper West is running too."

"Oh SHIT.", Randy said.

"He's going to get it too. He's already taken a couple of groups hunting at his ranch and some of them have gotten trophy deer. He's even having the rodeo after-party out at the ranch tomorrow night. He's having a band, Mexican food from Garcia's and a full bar."

"NO!"' Randy shouted. "Woody depends on that party! It's the only time the girls will go there. He said he even cleaned the bathroom and is sending the boys outside". Before the first cold sip, he added, "I'LL be at Woody's."

"Well, Debbi wants to dance so we're going to Cooper's." Justy said wearily, adding "Guys like Cooper. They always win, don't they?"

"Usually," Randy said honestly. "But not this time. Justy, your friends aren't going to support Cooper. They see him for what he is. You saw that last night when they shut him up at Woody's. You just go to his fucking party and be the gentleman you are. You'll win."

Justy stood up yawning, took the bag of peas and placed it on Randy's shoulder.

"How's your shoulder?"

"I don't know. I took another one of my old pain pills, but I think it's working on my ass instead. My shoulder feels better, but when that thing wears off, my ass starts throbbing. I'm too old for this shit!"

"Of course you are" Justy said smiling, "I don't know why you let them practice on your bony ass in the first place."

"Had to.", Randy said. "If I hadn't showed them how, they would have gone way too easy on you guys".


The next day, the rodeo was a near sellout. The Wranglers did well in most events, winning several, including Saddle Bronc and Team Roping. In fact, Coach Bob Ryan joked that maybe the lickin' of two nights before had kept them a little light in the saddle. Justy said that when he came down hard in the saddle during his Saddle Bronc ride it hurt like hell, and maybe that kept his legs straighter in the stirrups, easing the impact for a better ride. Afterwards, he and some of the others said it brought the paddling back to life, in an encore wave of pain. In fact, Justy said his slight limp after the rodeo was because his leg got bruised in the stirrup by the horse. Truth was, he now had a real busted ass.

Later that night, Randy stopped in at Woody's where a sparse crowd of mostly older guys were talking about the rodeo. Word had gotten out even to the competing rodeo teams about Cooper's after party. Randy was now off duty, and ordered a beer from Woody as Deputy Dave swigged the last of his Coke and headed out on patrol. Woody couldn't hide his disappointment having lost the after party, even as the coaches from the other teams came in with Coach Bob.

Randy was on his second beer when Justy, Grady, Miguel and several others came in and stood at the bar, dropping money in the jar and opening beers.

"Where's Debbi?", Randy asked Justy, who seemed a little down, despite his rodeo performance that afternoon.

"Last I saw Debbi" Justy replied with a sigh, "She was dancing her third dance with Cooper."

"Aw, that's rough". Coach Bob said.

"Not really", Justy replied, "We were almost at Coopers and she got pissed off at me because I wouldn't take her all the way back in to Walmart and buy her a brush and mirror so she could fluff out her hair before she walked in. No thanks."

At about that time, Grady came back to the bar from the men's room.

"Hey Woody. What's with the chrysanthemum plant in the piss trough, is it out of order?"

"Oh," Woody replied. "That was for the ladies. You can take THAT out!"

Several days later, the sister of one of the Wranglers, who worked at the Alpine News, ran a nice picture of the group standing in front of a gleaming water tower, after the group had "volunteered to clean the graffiti that unnamed vandals had left there." The article went on to say that The Wranglers wanted to make sure the tower was clean for their rodeo the following Sunday and expressed concern for the elementary school next door.

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