Date: Sat, 11 Feb 2017 18:55:13 -0500
From: Bear Pup <orson.cadell@gmail.com>
Subject: Mud Lark Holler 3

Please see original story
(www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/beaux-thibodaux/) for warnings and
copyright. Highlights: All fiction. All rights reserved. Includes sex
between adult and young-adult men. Go away if any of that is against your
local rules. Practice safer sex than my characters. Write if you like, but
flamers end up in the nasty bits of future stories. Donate to Nifty
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*****

"You have quite to power, son, and a soul destined to serve the Lord. You
are a special warrior, Jeremiah, and no mistake. You have equally-tenacious
demons upon you and, by God, I will keep with you to fight and conquer them
every chance I ge... every battle that we can fight together. For now, get
dressed and come back on Friday after schooling. Eat well and drink lots of
water, son, you laid out a massive loa... surge of Holy Fire this day and
need to replenish before our next, um, battle in the cause of the Lord." I
floated, I do swear before God hisself, as I dressed and holy bliss and
wandered homeward. Every colour was brighter, every birdsong clearer, even
breeze more tender. I had truly been touch by the Hand of God.

*****

Mud Lark Holler 3: Sins & Sinners

By Bear Pup

M/T; rural; preacher; spanking; significant CBT


There are all sorts a sin in God's world, and I went through a lot of them
in the next couple days. My sisters were a sore trial for me, henpecking
and nitpicking and always up in my stuff. Now I love my sisters, they's
kin. But there are surely days that I don't like em none, and a few where I
hate em with a fiery passion.

They started in on me the second I got to the homestead, bleating like wet
sheep over the chores they had to do instead a me. The biggest problem was
they kept tryin to grab the Reverend's notepad and read about our Holy
Work. Now tattling is a sin, and resentment is a sin, but I finally had to
appeal to the ultimate authority short a God Hisself.

"Dr Hiram done tole me what I gots to do Ma, and he's right strict on
this. It Holy Work, and the gels don't understand. Can you please, please
do sumpin?"

She looked at me long and hard. "And what's in that there notebook,
Jeremiah?"

"The Reverend put me under strong oaths to never let nobody see. He was
right insistent that letting others, even other in the Church, know what
this Battle entails would go right gainst God's plans. You don't have to
believe me Ma, but I swear in His Holy Name it's truth. Send one of the
gels to get a note again."

She stood for a minute afore bellowing, "FAITH! FAITH! You get in here!" It
weren't more than a moment when my next-to-youngest sister burst in. The
gels had obvious been specting Ma to wallop me either for not letting em
see the notebook or for tattling. Boy was Faith shook up. Pert sure what I
felt was a sin too, something like being smug I think.

Ma wrote out something in her slow and spindly hand, folded it over and
handed it to Faith. I realised then why she'd picked that particular child.
She didn't read yet, and was perpetual mad at the other sisters so no way
she'd let them read it. "Take that straight to the Church, child. You knock
respectful like and wait. Give the note to the Reverend and wait there for
his reply and bring it straight back to me. One detour, young-un, one foot
outside that path or letting anyone interfere and you will feel my hand and
no mistake. Gahn! Off with ya." As Faith's skirts whipped out the door, Ma
called out "And if'n you do it real quick, you'll have a sweet!"

There was no chance that my other sisters hadn't heard that, and knew that
Ma would wallop them if they interfered, and that Faith would pull their
hair out in clumps if they prevented her from getting a sweet.

Maybe a quarter hour later, I saw from the loft as Faith came a-running.
She went straight to Ma and seconds later her voice rang out, "JEREMIAH!
JEREMIAH LAZARUS HARROD! Get in here!" Me oh my. Three names. This was
either right important or so very, VERY bad.

All six sisters were sitting on the table-benches, a-smirking at me when I
rushed in. They was gonna see me whooped hard and no mistake. I'm shore
there's a sin for the way they was lookin at me but I don't rightly know
which one.

"Hand me that notebook, Jeremiah!"

The look in her eye brooked no defiance. Yeas, I was right scared of Dr
Hiram and in proper terror of the Power of God, but they could only damn me
for eternity. Ma could damn me right here and now! I handed her the book.

She rounded on my sisters in a voice that would have cowed the Reverend
himself in the midst of a sermon filled with holy fire. She pronounced,
"This here is sacred and holy work. If'n one of you gels so much as looks
in its direction, you will regret your birth. If any one of ya touch it,
even accidental, you will sorely regret that you have a backside and that
the Lord God make hickory switches!"

The gels sat stunned and horrified. Me oh my, this was not at all atal
going according to their plan. I suppressed a wide grin, hopin that the
supressin would balance the sin of the delight I did so richly feel at
their discomfiture. What come next were right and truly special to me. Ma
did resort to the ultimate option, the roll call.

"Ruth. You gonna look at this book? You gonna touch it? Tell me, girl."

Eyes wide and throat gulping, my eldest sister looked at Ma and said, "I
ain't gonna look and ain't never gonna touch it, Ma!"

The roll-call went on, Beth did avow that she'd never even wanted to (the
sin a lyin was rampant that day; she been the one tried to snatch it) and
would never look at it again. Charity & Chastity, the twins, spoke in the
eerie unison they had sometimes with their own oath. Faith spoke quick and
breathless; the visit to the Reverend must have put the fear of God *and*
Ma in her very soul. Little Rose was just a set of saucer-sized eyes above
the tiny mouth that lisped she'd never do nuthin, which at her age was oath
enough for Ma.

I did relish the sin of Pride then. I promised to pray extra hard at
bedtime, but I could no more pretend I weren't pleased as I could a laid an
egg. Reverend not only brought me into his Holy Work, he'd sealed it with
some powerful message to Ma herself. I was the cock crowing over the
chicken coop for the rest of the day. And oh Lordy did I pay for that hour
of sinful pride.

The gels were mad as wet hens the rest of the day. They found ever way they
was to make me look like a fool, in front of Ma whenever possible. And I
durn well fell for ever single one. I was on my backside at least twice,
once right in a muck-pie from the milch-cow. When I was done for the day, I
was a stinky, grimy, grumpy boy. Ma even went so far as to make me wash --
WASH -- on *Wednesday* and with no time to heat the water. I knew for a
sure fact that I didn't have to worry bout *those* kinds of sinful thoughts
for a while as that freezing cold water took care a that problem. I looked
with murder at each sister in turn, and durned if Ma didn't
notice. Thankfully, we'd already started eating so when she pulled my plate
away and sent me to bed 'supperless'. I'd already et bout half a chicken.

And distraction is a terrible thing when you gots such powerful demon
stalking you. I was a grumbling and a cursing and a spitting the whole way
up to my loft and I plumb forgot to pray as I fell under the covers thinkin
pure murder and misery. The world just ain't fair to a boy with six
sisters, and that's God's Truth, that is.

My sin of Pride was what got me. I'm sure of it. I woke sudden in the deep
hush of night from a dream so chock full of sin that it'd give Dr Hiram at
least three pages. I was on that desk again, hands in leather loops and the
soft cotton of the nappie soothing my aching cheeks. The Reverend was doing
something I know he done never did in life. He would lick from between my
legs straight up my balls to the tip of my aching dick. I'd moan. He'd just
do it again. Tonguing that oh so wondrous part down tween balls and
nether-part, then over and between my balls, then right up the shaft to the
very tippy-tip making me moan with sinful need. And then he did it
again. And again. And again. And again. And AGAIN! And I woke in the midst
of Pruflas' victory, jetting thick cream into my sleep-shorts. I pert near
cried.

As penance, I wrote everything down right then, even though I knew I'd have
to redo it for lack of light, then said three times my normal prayers afore
letting myself fall back to slumber. That loosened up that demon enough so
I woke with no more nocturnal troubles. But danged if today weren't
worse. I got meself cleaned up fore heading down to breakfast, which was
the only luck I had. All day at the schoolhouse, the moment my eyes drifted
or dropped, that pricky old hen Miss Perkins was askin me questions she
knew I couldn't answer, just to be mean. I didn't doubt that Charity &
Chastity were behind it, Miss P favoured them no end.

Then chores weren't no better. My sisters did contrive and conspire to undo
ever thing I finished then went crying to Ma that I was skimping. Thank
Lord she didn't buy it every time, but Ma shore made my life a trial that
afternoon and through the evening. My stomach was insistent and downright
mad so I was able to hold my temper and my tongue against all provocation
during dinner until it was happy again.

I was right careful to pray hard that night. I even stuck in some requests
for strength to fight the battles I knew was coming. I woke hard and hot,
and scribbled the tormentuous dreams as quick as I could before taking care
of my bodily needs. I finished quicker than normal and told Ma I had to
work on the Reverend's book so she excused me from clearing
breakfast. Quick as I could I recopied the Wednesday dreams fore setting
off with the brood to school. I'd got a full sleep on a full stomach, so I
was alert through the lessons, though that pricky hen tried to trip me up
on every question. I foxed her most times, but did hold true hate in my
heart for her (sin), my sisters (nother sin) and pert near ever female
other than Ma and Mary that God did ever create (sin yet again).

I flat ran from the schoolhouse to the church office. I sat against the
side wall as I could hear Dr Hiram was in a powerful prayer meetin. A deep,
husky voice that seemed familiar would cry out, "Praise God!" and the
Reverend would reply "Feel the Power of the Lord!"

"Praise God!"

"Fell the Power!"

Over and over the refrain went, their voices rising in pitch and intensity
until I could hear the Ecstasy take one man the Rapture take the other,
both crying and speaking in tongues to beat the band.

I waited until the door opened, perhaps a good five minutes, before coming
round the corner to see Farmer Conner walking away toward his steading. He
musta been on prayerful knees for the longest time as he was shore walking
funny. He also kept adjusting the seat of his pants what seemed a bit damp
to tell the truth.

I knocked and Dr Hiram called me in. I handed the book over to him and he
smiled at me. "So Ma got the note and set things right?"

"Oh, yes, sir. She made right sure that the sisters left offa pestering me
over the book, but..." I stopped sudden, knowing I'd said one word too
many.

"But what, child?"

I broke out in the story of the torments my sisters done unleashed and the
Reverend just sat the grinning and told me that sisters were a trial sent
by the Lord God to test us, and I allowed as they were that and more that,
well, head hung low and mumbling, "And done failed His holy test, Father."

"Explain that," his voice sharp as needles and twice as hard. I pointed to
the four pages of notes from that night and splained how I'd plumb forgot
my prayers and how that had left that evil monster Pruflas to led me
straight to the worst possible sins. He scowled at me and snatched up the
book.

Dr Hiram read those four pages, then went back to those scribbled from the
night itself and raised a querulous eye, so I tole him how I'd taken it as
penance to write the whole thing out then recopy it later, and he allowed
as that was just and proper before reading my notes from Thursday night's
rich and tormentuous dreams.

I swear I sweated bullets as he read and reread that journal, face
reddening and breathing occasionally gettin short or emerging as ragged
sighs. I knew I done sinned terrible bad, but the intensity with which Dr
Hiram examined my words were a terror to behold. He sat still and calmed
his apparent anger for a minute afore he spoke.

"We got several issues today, Jeremiah. The first is the penance for your
failure to pray, leading to a weakness that Pruflas and, if I'm guessing
right, Ose as well took hold and used mightily to bring your soul into the
mud and muck of sin. The second is nothing less than tonight's skirmish in
our Holy Battle. The last, well, the last is the increasing grip of Pruflas
when he should be loosening up. I'm plumb worried about that, son. And
we'll have to send you home with a powerful weapon, I think, to keep you
through Sunday for our most-holy session here in the Fortress of the Lord
after services."

I did rightly tremble, but knew that any pain I felt would go double on
them demons when delivered by the Doctor Reverend Hiram Waite. I stepped
behind the screen and saw Dr Hiram watch me in the mirrors. I knew he was
checking for signs of further sin and degradations of my soul, not at my
earthly body and especially my naughty bits, such things being far beneath
a Warrior of God.

"First, we'll deal with your sin of Wednesday night. Lay across my lap,
child. No, full across so your chest and arms are to the one side and only
your legs to the other. Yes, Jeremiah, like that. Brace yourself on your
hands and knees." I felt myself snuggle into the Reverend's lap with my boy
bits pressed against the smooth cloth of his trousers.

It was very different than Wednesday afternoon when my behind stuck up so
far and pert. This felt more like punishment, more like I was just as
naughty and sinful as I knew myself to be. I was right surprised, though,
that it was not Ezekiel that hit my cheeks but the bare hand of Dr
Hiram. He lashed into me like nobody's business. Perhaps twenty sharp and
stinking smacks and he shore had my attention.

I knew this was my punishment and not that of Pruflas, and bore it
well. The Reverend did pause after the twenty and brush his strong, rough,
supple hands over and over across my behind, round and round and round. It
brought the nerves alive and made the next set of twenty twice the
penance. Again the stroking soft caress and it was then that I noticed a
most disturbing thing.

Each stroke hurt and hurt like dickens, but it also rubbed my sinful parts
right up against the soft-cloth-clad hard muscles of Dr Hiram's lap. I
thought of fire and damnation in the pits of hell, of a fox eating poor
baby squirrels, of what Miss Perkins would look unclothed, but nothing
would quench the building flame. Bout halfway through the third twenty, I
found myself a squirming and a writhing as the blows rained down, the pain
in sharp contrast to the sinful and unbearable pleasure beneath.

I started to beg, trying to explain my predicament, but Dr Hiram just kept
a-going. And that's when I felt Pruflas, that evil and conniving spawn of
the Great Enemy, start to churn my balls in the most disturbing way. Just
then, Dr Hiram stopped spanking and began to caress me, and I tried to form
words but that nameless demon the Reverend had glimpsed in my throat locked
my voice so only grunts and whimpers and gasps could escape. I prayed for
the power to warn Dr Hiram to stop, to know that diabolical plan of the
three demons that held me fast, but to no avail.

He did start the last set of twenty and was five stroke in when I started
to moan with an intensity I never did know. My ass was on fire, but so were
my balls and what a different kind of conflagration each was! Pleasure and
pain fought for my soul, piling one atop the other until I screamed out in
agonised ecstasy. Perhaps fifteen stroke in, my nuts bunched up against my
unmentionable part and did begin to quake my body and soul. I hollered as I
delivered spurt after spurt of holy seed to be lost and defiled in the
cloth of Dr Hiram' pants. I cried and wept (amongst the moan and squeaks)
knowing the sin I'd let occur and powerless to stop it.

It was then that Dr Hiram did notice the commotion and pushed me off his
lap and onto the floor. I could see his shock in the wide set of his eyes
and the almost predatory set of his lips. I couldn't bear that look and
stared at the puddle of sin that dripped from the Warrior of God's pantleg
onto the dusty floorboard. I just let myself weep as Dr Hiram cleansed his
pants of my sinful eruption.

He took a minute to regain his breath from his exertions.

"You want to tell me what just happened, Jeremiah?"

I sobbed, "Pruflas took advantage of my rightful punishment and the
nameless one you glimpsed done locked my voice so I couldn't warn you. It
was so much, so heated, so soft, so hard, so fast, so *much* that I could
not pray him back to submission, Father! I done failed twice, Reverend! I
am not worthy at all atal to be a servant of God. I'm too weak a vessel,
sir! Too weak..." I cried out at the end of that and fell silent.

Dr Hiram waited as I quietened.

"No, son, you did sin but not in the way you think. You let go when your
righteous punishment started, Jeremiah. Instead of letting it make you
stronger, you lowered all the shields we'd built over the last two battles
under the direction of the Holy Spirit. It was for the right reason, son,
as you knew you deserved the punishment, but you can never allow your
Heavenly Armour to slip, no matter the provocation or pain.

"I'll have to think on that, son, to find the right tools to use on
Sunday. But first we need to deal with Pruflas and Ose, and see if we can
find out about the nameless one who stole your voice." He stood and donned
the blue spectacles I knew were of God's own power. He also moved to take
down -- a shudder of true and abject terror ran through me -- the switch
known as Moloch.

"Tonight's battle will hurt, son, and hurt powerfully. Are you ready,
Jeremiah, to again do battle with the demons that infest you and endanger
your everlasting soul?"

I longed to say, 'no!' and run off. I was a coward, I knew in my heart. But
I fought down those unworthy thoughts and shouted, "Yes, Dr Hiram. YES!"

He did then position me as the first Sunday, hands on the desk and feet
spread wide and hip thrust up. I near died when that Moloch did first whip,
with a sizzling sound, and upon my tender ass. I howled and writhed. The
pain of this was mine. I prayed that Pruflas and the others were feeling
this tenfold as the Reverend has promised. Cuz if they felt that, they
could not at all survive to torment me again.

As Moloch whizzed and whipped, I howled and screeched ceaselessly, caring
not one whit whether the sounds came from a demon or myself. It durned well
HURT! Swish and a blaze of pain. Zzzzzip and a flaming welt of agony. At
some point it ended, and Dr Hiram lifted me like a child and laid me, face
down, upon the cleared desk, again with that soft cotton nappie in place.

I laid and sobbed as the Reverend applied a soothing salve to each welt and
mark. I cried out two or three time, but was proud that I'd never moved or
pulled away from the Holy Battle. My backside would heal, no doubt, but if
we struck a blow for the Lord God, I was proud and humbled to be His vessel
even if it was of pain.

Dr Hiram sat and waited as my howls became cries became moans became
sniffles became silence.

"I got a clear picture through the holy spectacles, and do need some time
to research the thirty demon I did see take hold of your voice. Now, son,
we have to talk about the final piece."

My brain was right gone from all that came before and I stared at him in
utter bewilderment. There was MORE?

"You've done tremendously tonight in both your punishment and in our battle
against the demons of the Great Enemy. Our trouble now is how to keep
Pruflas off you until we can regroup on Sunday. I have a weapon, but I
truly feel you may not be man enough to employee it, especially not for
near three days."

Those words were like a knife to my heart. I thirsted to be a Warrior of
God and would let no pain, no burden dissuade me from that holy path. Dr
Hiram should know that and I was wounded that he doubted. I sat up,
suppressing the scream of agony as the weals and welts on my fundament did
holler mightily for attention as they touched the desktop.

"Dr Hiram, I am a warrior. I am YOUR warrior in this most holy
enterprise. Nothing that don't kill me will change that, sir, nothing. And
if'n it hits Pruflas who done tricked and mocked me worse'n all tothers,
I'll bear the fires of hell itself." And at that particular moment, I meant
it. Oh me oh my how I did regret those boastful words. But once said, they
couldn't be unsaid.

Dr Hiram stared for a minute, then rose and walked to a hutch of drawers
and doors. He opened one tiny drawer and withdrew something that shone
silver in the strong afternoon light.

"This, Jeremiah, is a powerful weapon indeed. It is specially designed for
demons that torment young warriors such as yourself. It's not been tried
upon a Demonic Prince like Pruflas as far as I know, however, and it is a
penance of its own and it constantly attacks the demon, attendant with real
pain to yourself."

I looked close. It was a strange thing. Like a sawn section of
impossibly-thick-walled pipe. The glinting steel was perhaps a finger
thickness and double that in width, but with a hinge on one side and a
clasp on the other. Inside were tiny burrs as if the metalworks never
finished it.

"This goes where Pruflas has hold a you boy." My eyes went wide but I kept
resolute. "It torments the demon day and night, but you will feel some of
that pain, son. Jeremiah, I am not going to ask you to do this. It is a
mighty and terrible sacrifice. But if you ask, I think that I may just
allow it at least until Sunday when we meet in battle again."

"Reverend, I can bear whatever God's battle requires. Pain ain't nuthin
compared to the Lord's holy work. Fit God's weapon upon me, Father!"

He looked at me long and searchingly, and there was a true lust for the
holy battle in the man's eyes. He was cautious but I could tell he rejoiced
in my answer.

Dr Hiram moved to extract a screwdriver from a drawer. "Lean back against
the desk son and spread your legs as wide as they'll go."

The holy warrior grabbed my sac in his hand as he'd done to prepare me for
the Blessed Moody's relic. I felt him carefully tug and pinch, then hissed
in a breath with the oh-so-cold steel touch me there. He fitted it around
me and I yelped as a small part of me got caught in the hinge as it
closed. Dr Hiram carefully adjusted me and I felt the holy weapon finally
enclose the envelope the skin that held my tenderest boy bits. I heard
rather than saw the screwdriver secure it.

I wondered at all the warning and worry. This tweren't nuthin! Me oh my,
how I wish I'd stop saying things like that!

The Reverent released me and the weapon and I near fell to my knees. It
weighed more than a blacksmith's anvil. It bit the tender skin like a
really enraged polecat. It pulled everything down and out and made my most
precious parts so terrible vulnerable.

No! I was a Warrior of God! I could handle this. I could do whatever was
required (oh me oh my, how I regret those thoughts). Dr Hiram stood back
and waited. My eyes were full of tears but my heart was full of the power
of the Holy Spirit. Tears and pain stood no chance. I stood and barely
repressed a howl of agony.

Dr Hiram gently guided me through a series of movements, each more
torturous than the last. I moved and nearly cried. I walked gingerly and
nearly swooned. I, oh dear and holy God, jumped once and thought I'd
die. But I held fast, secure in the (increasingly-painful) Arsenal of the
Lord God.

It was full dark afore Dr Hiram had led me through all the things I'd
encounter in a normal day. The worst was anything that jerked or jumped,
cuz there weren't no escape from the torment then. But fore I left I could
walk without showing the weapon's effects and could do most chores without
crying out loud. It were a close thing, but I walked home armed with this
powerful weapon, and only had to stop once to sob against the bole of a
towering beech. Pruflas was no place to be seen and Ose had nothing to
tease and tempt me with. This weapon, if I made it to Sunday, would be
their undoing. AMEN!

<eof>

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*****

Fantasies posted so far, all at www.nifty.org/nifty/gay...
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Karl & Greg: 14 chapters, more coming, .../incest/karl-and-greg/
The Heathens: 3 chapters, more coming, .../historical/the-heathens/
Beaux Thibodaux: 3 chapters, LOTS more coming, .../adult-youth/beaux-thibodaux/
Mud Lark Holler: 3 chapters, more coming, .../rural/mud-lark-holler
Turntable Rehab: 4 chapter, more coming, .../authoritarian/turntable-rehabilitation-services
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