Date: Thu, 10 May 2018 11:39:07 -0500 From: MC VT Subject: The Battoir Chapter 6 The Battoir - Part 6 ©2017 MCVT August 17, 2017 mcvt2017@gmail.com *** We fell asleep fast on the hay and slept hard, but got up early to shower quickly in the arena locker room with Dad. Behind the little shower curtain, he faced away from the openings and pulled me in front of him and squatted, turning me away from him. He made sure he washed me along my cleft, and checked to see if I was okay and very clean back there and around my groin where he'd sucked and bitten. I loved it when he washed me like that. His fingers felt warm and strong. "Did you cum enough?" He chuckled. I nodded and noticed several tiny, red marks by my balls. What could I do but grin? I stood still and let him wash me, kissing him quickly on his neck when he was close in the showers. He whispered he loved me and he was proud of me as he soaped my feet and pretended to look at my toenails. Some other men came in the showers with their sons or friends. Dad and I strode from the shower to the lockers with just small towels over our shoulders making some of them blush. Bluefeather men have beautiful bodies. *** Dad got me a cup of coffee to drink with our sandwiches that morning. He made sure mine had plenty of milk and sugar. I felt like a big shot in front of the other kids; drinking coffee like the adults. I knew better than to show any swagger as I sipped it while I ate my sandwiches and fruit. Bluefeather men didn't have to advertise anything. We're male enough by our presence alone. I got the goat pen cleaned up, and got our equipment ready to lead Whitey and her kids to the arena. Tamara came over, noticing my cup of coffee, and explained how I should take the goats according to their number to the right places in the big show area covered with sawdust for all of the livestock. "Just follow me, and do what I do until we get to the middle of the arena, then go to your numbered space." She was smiling, and then she winked at me! As we readied our goats, I told her that maybe we should use some hairspray on them, like some of the other people. "They use stuff to make their hair real shiny..." "Nah. Judges are looking for healthy, strong goats. You can't fool the older judges - they've seen all the tricks. "Whitey looks good for a mixed breed, and her kids are bouncy. You'll place today." She tied the lavender ribbons on the necks of the goats so they couldn't pull them off and left for the big arena where the loudspeakers made echoes. Dad and I dusted my jeans off and he combed my hair, but that was wasted effort. My waves had their own way, but he said it was how farmers look. "Nothing wrong with looking like a working man." He told me. "Show `em your dimples - nobody will notice your hair." *** In the arena, the judges walked around and talked to us. One older judge looked all over Whitey and her kids. He noticed she was in estrus. "Gonna breed her today while all the boys are here?" He asked me. "No, I'd rather wait. I want to keep her strong." I said. "Good idea, boy. Common sense isn't so common among some of these breeders. Why haven't I seen you here before? You new?" "Yes sir, I came with Tamara and her Dad. That's my dad over there - Douglas Bluefeather. I'm starting our herd." I explained about how we made a shed. "We're looking for a dog now, to guard the goats and keep the critters out of the garden." "Fine plan. You stay with that youth group. They'll help you out. Here's my business card when you get ready to breed your does." He looked over Whitey and the kids again. "Promise to give me a call, Mr. Bluefeather?" "Sure." I tried to pronounce his name, "Reginald Allemande III." He saw me trying to figure out how to say his name. "Call me Reggy." He said, tousled my hair and smiled. I thanked Mr. Reggy and stuffed his card in my pocket quickly - Whitey's kids were getting curious about the trashcan close to our space. They wanted to turn it over and start looking through it for treats. Three nosy goats are hard to keep under control in a busy, noisy arena. Mr. Reggy watched me handle my goats for a long time. Then, he marked his clipboard and moved on to the next group. *** Whitey got second place in the mixed breed category and I got a huge ribbon! Tamara got first place with her pygmy goats! They were cute, but looked like their feet and legs were too big for their bodies to me. Then, a lot of people came by taking pictures of us with our goats. I could see Dad watching and smiling. Tamara's Dad was smiling, and had brought several boxes of doughnuts to recruit more youth for the group. He didn't have any problem getting rid of those treats as he attracted a lot of kids, and their parents followed. After all that attention died down, Tamara's Dad told my dad, "Come on by the farm anytime, we'd be glad to have you. Bring the family - let me show you my farm." He chuckled. "Don't get to do it often, but you might want to see our parlor. Just got some new machinery installed." Dad smiled, "Really? I'd like to see that." They talked about milking parlors for a long time. Back in the cab of the truck I showed Dad the business card from the judge. "He said to call when we were ready to breed Whitey again. I had to promise to call him." Dad took the card and read it. "Gee, this guy's a financial advisor, has his own business. Hmmm. And he's a goat man? That's strange." He slipped the card in his shirt pocket. "We'll call him later." His hand reached over to my shoulder. "You did all the good today. You make me proud." I fell asleep on the way home; Dad kissed me when we got home to wake me. "Son, what we did last night, did you like that?" "Yeah. That was the best." "Okay, that's our private business. Understand?" "Yeah." I don't think he knew how much I loved his affection, all the erections and cumming so hard and the way he smelled. "I love you more every day." He kissed me lightly on my cheek. *** One Sunday morning, Dad called Tamara's house. "We'd like to come over after we finish our chores." "Sure, welcome!" We hoed three long rows in the garden, and got everything squared away. Dad took Rod and me in the shower and then trimmed our hair on the back porch while Mom showered and dressed little Junie. We were going out! All of us at one time, but Rod and I had to ride in the back of the truck. Tamara and her entire family met us as we pulled in. Rod and I jumped out of the back and shook hands with everyone, just like we were taught. Then, we ran behind Tamara to the big barn to see all her goats. The women went to the garden, then in the house. Everyone's voices were happy and we were going to have a good time together. My family was beautiful and I was so proud of them. Dad said he wanted to see the milking parlor and the new machines. They were ignoring everyone else, but this was a big deal for Dad. We would have to install a parlor on our place before we went into production. The dads were gone a long time looking over the facilities for their large herd of milk goats. Dad wanted to see the installation of the equipment and how the set-up complied with the organic certification requirements and health codes. Tamara's family weren't organic dairy people, but that didn't bother Dad or me. Tamara showed Rod and me all her pygmy goats and their herd of dairy goats. They had chickens and ducks and two llamas! It was a great farm. They had a lot of land, and everything was fancy. She told us the farm had been in the family for a long time as we sat on the front porch swing. *** Rod said he'd seen her at school, but he was in a different grade. "I see your class on the playground after lunch, but the teacher won't let us out of our area. They're trying to stop the bullies." That little twerp scooted closer to her, "Bullies get in a lot of trouble. I wouldn't ever act like that. I'm a gentleman." Then, he went on to ask her about what they did in her grade in science classes. She explained a few things, and then Tamara asked me what I was doing in my science classes. "Doug's got classes online. He has to stay at home." Rod commented, as if I was some kind of idiot for being home schooled. That comment really chapped me! Nine years old and insulting me, then trying to maneuver himself between Tamara and me as if he knew what he was doing! Then, Tamara asked, "Are you coming to the big dance on Saturday night? It's for all the students and parents - everyone! They're going to have a disc jockey and colored lights. It's in the old Grange hall down on FM103." She stumped Rod for a minute, so I jumped in the conversation. "I'm home schooled because I work the farm. Dad works and I keep the goats and crops while he's gone. I don't know if I'd have time for a dance, and they probably don't want strangers in their party." I said, shooting an evil glance at Rod. She stared for a moment, and then said it didn't matter, all kids could come. "Anyone. Ask your mom to bring you." Rod said he couldn't dance slow, but he liked rock music - he could dance to that. "Yeah, you've seen it on TV but you don't dance." I whispered to him. Things were becoming yeasty between Rod and me, but I kept my cool. Tamara looked at us, "Slow dance?" She stood up and motioned me to come over to her, "It's easy, I'll show you." I blushed and paused, but my cheese-ball brother jumped up, "Okay." She looked at me, but took Rod's grubby hands and put one on her shoulder and the other on her waist and showed him how to step slowly. He was grinning and followed her instructions, carefully moving closer to her, grinning. "This is easy." He watched Tamara's feet, then looked at her face, still grinning. He was almost touching her stomach with his, getting closer to her with every step while I sat on the swing kicking my feet watching the goof-ball making moves on an older woman. They were laughing and joking and it made me miserable. "Why didn't I move faster?" I stewed and watched them. So I got up and cut between them with one fast move and told Rod to go ask Dad if he happened to bring the battoir with him. He froze for a moment, and I shoved him away, grinning. Tamara smelled so sweet, and I remembered pink panties and wondered, but kept my mouth shut. I was able to see her cute nose and her grey-green eyes up close. Yeah, I grinned the whole time I touched her. That's when our moms came out with sodas and cookies. I had to remind Rod to use a napkin. He shot me a stink eye - knowing it wasn't worth a paddling. I shot one back. *** Two weeks later, our dog problem was solved. Tamara and her Dad came over with a pup. Dad said he was already fixed and wormed. I had to explain "fixed" to Rod, and I think he was starting to cry till I shook my head at him. "Too late for tears. They already pulled `em off and thrown `em to the pigs." He stared at me, then, "No! They wouldn't do that!" His brain cell finally warmed up. I couldn't help laughing. The pup seemed like a smart guy and had plenty of energy. Tamara's Dad showed us pictures of the dog's parents. Shorthaired, spotted mixed-breed with long tail and ears. He wasn't going to be great big, but a mid-sized red and white model with a sharp nose and a spunky attitude. The creative genius Rod was at work again naming him "Spotty the Dog." *** I wasn't surprised things were going so well on the farm, Dad and I worked hard and it was starting to show. We expanded the produce garden, and sold a lot at the market on Saturdays. Dad told me to smile, show my dimples to the ladies as they looked over our tomatoes. It worked! His dimples didn't hurt his sales, either. We were sizzling hot making sales and came home with pockets full of cash every week! Rod ran the sample board, offering people slices of cucumbers and zucchini and re-filling the ranch-dressing bowl with his plastic gloves - he seemed to like it! "Try some - just picked this morning!" He'd say to the passers-by and grin. The berry vines were still short, but growing like crazy and covered with blossoms. We gave some of them away with a little advertisement about our self-pick place. Mom was still building her hive; we would have organic honey to sell soon, and the bees fit in on the farm just fine. No stings! I finished my studies early that semester and Mom took me to the county to take my tests, but they were easy and I felt like a champ because I'd completed them before time was up. My home schooling courses felt easy to me and now I could understand the words to the music on the Spanish radio station. Everything in my life was going well. *** Dad took all of us to the young farmer's group again, and Mom was a hit with Junie and the other ladies. They were all chattering and laughing like old friends. Unlike the men, the women laughed a lot more often when they got together. Even when she nursed Junie in front of everyone, they kept talking and laughing. The ladies all smiled and the men looked, but blushed and turned away quickly. I did, too but Dad grinned. After a slide show about sanitizing feed and water troughs, Rod was talking to some kids from school. I saw him picking his nose, and he wiped his booger on his jeans. So I took him to the bathroom to blow his nose and wash his hands. Dad saw him doing that and nodded at me when I took him aside. When we got back to the house Mom and Dad were fussing. Dad said Rod needed the battoir. Mom said Dad couldn't upset everyone with the beatings anymore. "No more! Not in this house!" She was almost screaming. "I can't stand it anymore! You hurt my children! It's abuse!" Rod stood in the corner with tears in his eyes - so I took him to the bedroom and told him to get in his pajamas. Rod picking his nose didn't seem like it was such a big deal to me, but Dad was prideful. Dad stomped in our bedroom with the battoir. "Outside, Rod. Time for a lesson." He stripped off Rod's pajamas and grabbed his hair taking him out of the house completely naked. Dad was so mad with Rod and Mom that his face was red and his teeth were clenched! Spotty followed them out behind the goat shed where we heard seven sharp slaps and Rod wailed, and then sobbed. He could hardly catch his breath. Spotty barked at Dad the whole time. Whitey and the kids were bleating, telling me they were afraid of all the commotion. When they came back in the bedroom, Dad pulled out the chair and sat down. Rod went between his legs and put his arms around Dad's neck, kissing him. "Anything to say, son?" Rod blubbered he was sorry for picking his nose in public and thanked Dad for teaching him how to behave. There was a puddle of pee on the floor underneath him. Suddenly, Rod stopped saying anything and ran to the kitchen grabbing Mom. With one swift move, he rubbed his face on her chest, and she pulled her blouse aside offering him her nipple. She stroked Rod's hair while he nursed. "It's alright, it's all over now." She told him softly. "Calm down." Rod lips were sucking on her nipple, and his eyes were closed tight as if he wanted everything to go away except Mom's nipple. When Dad saw that, he turned red again grabbed Rod by the hair and took him back outside with the battoir. Mom tried to tell Dad he needed comfort not punishment. "I'll leave and take my children with me - Douglas! Stop!" She said. Now, Mom was crying. Then Junie started crying. Spotty was barking outside. The goats were yelling and moving around. I hated it when everyone was so upset. I hated it so much - but where could I go? What could I do? If I tried to stop Dad, I'd get the battoir, too. Him being so angry - he'd give me too many... I closed my eyes and put my fingers in my ears. To count Rod's swats would be too painful. I tried going to bed and putting my pillow over my head like I wanted everything to go away in that moment. When I heard Rod finish thanking Dad and getting in bed, I went down and slept with Rod while he sobbed himself to sleep - damp and smelling a little like pee, but he finally fell asleep. Mom found the battoir and burned it the next day while Dad was at work. Then, she had the gumption to send him a picture of it burning! "No more battoir! Ever!" Was the caption to the photo. "I'll take my children away before you do!" That sounded like a big fight was coming that night, but they were quiet at dinner. Very quiet. *** The next day I took Rod down to the garden with me after we'd cleaned the goats and put them in the pasture. Spotty stayed with us while we looked for rabbit holes or moles. Nothing escaped Spotty's nose. I took photos with my phone so Dad could check and see if the holes had snakes before we set traps. Dad said we were selective about the residents in our garden. After lunch, Rod waited till Mom left the kitchen and got the jar of peanut butter out, and swiped his finger through it, then went outside. That was curious... I put the lid back on the peanut butter, put it back in the cabinet and followed him. He was out in the goat shed with Spotty. I followed him out and watched him take one shoe off, and one leg out of his pants and briefs, then lean over and squish the peanut butter along the cleft of his rear, and smear it around. He put one foot on a bale of hay and half-leaned over. Spotty was jumping around licking the peanut butter off Rod's ass while Rod moaned softly, and then started furiously tugging on his tiny hard-on. This didn't last long, but Rod stayed half-leaned over till Spotty finished his treat and licked Rod's butt clean. "Good Spotty, you're my friend. Good dog." He petted Spotty for a long time. *** Stepping back quietly, I grabbed a hoe and went to the garden to think. I wondered if the school staff had noticed Rod's weird behaviors, and possibly questioned Dad's punishments. Some days Rod's eyes were red and swollen in the mornings, and sometimes it was hard to sit down after the battoir from the night before. Seemed to me he was getting some kind of spooky, too. He seldom spoke to me anymore. If Mom and Dad got in trouble, we'd lose the farm, our home and Rod and Junie and I might have to go to foster care or someplace else. We didn't have many relatives, and we knew none of them. Maybe the government would have to put Rod in an institution. Mom could divorce Dad or take us and leave. Rod was a big problem and becoming worse. Dad might just strop him now that the battoir was burned. Nothing like that happened.