[Authors note—This story is a little different than some of the others I've written, but it's written as a reminder that there are paddlings and then there are PADDLINGS. While this particular story as it's depicted didn't happen, it's not all just a creation of the mind either, and it's certainly not THAT far fetched. And, if you dare to wander the world and look and read, you too will discover the roots from which this story is told. Dedicated to Lou. (Story proofed by Andrew Goodyear) – nathan9001@yahoo. com]
Now this here story is well, it's fiction. It is, but it's true too, well sorta it is. Now I know what you're thinking, how can a story be made up and yet also be true. Well, you see, it's about a guy named Lou, and it's about how his ass got a little bit redder than he ever imagined it could. Now Lou is a real guy mind ya, and well, I know, cause he wrote me once and told me a few things about himself he did. So, while he's not exactly a friend of mind, I mean not yet anyway, still, he is sorta and well, this is his story. Now Lou is all grown up now, lives up north in Ohio or somewhere like that, and travels down south to Florida now and then. Yeah, he's not a kid anymore. And yet he still dreams, like some of the rest of you, about those times in his youth where he ended up with a red ass. And even today Lou has had a red ass from time-to-time, and he's had more than a few people give it to him. Yep, it has been pretty red more than once. Now this story is about Lou, and about his red ass. Now some of the places and some of the methods in this story might not seem to you to be real, but well, they are. I've been to some of them, yes sir, stood there and seen them and listened to the locals tell me all about em. Some of the other things, well, I've never actually seen mind you. But that doesn't mean they aren't real, cause well, they are. I've talked the talk and I've listened to people who have seen some of these things with their own eyes. Now there are all kind of paddlings and all kinds of spankings, and this here archive if full of them. There are the friendly little pats over-the-knee, as well as the angry dad swinging his hairbrush routines. There's the school smack-your-ass and make-it-burn paddling, and there is the two guys goin' to it with a board in one hand and a can of lube in the other. Yes sir, all kinds of paddlings there are. But, there is one type of paddling that is just a little more serious than the rest, and well sir, it's the one kind of paddling that you never, and I mean NEVER want to have happen to you. And that kind of paddling is a judicial paddling. Judicial paddlings have been around for a very long time, and throughout history they have been used to tan the rear of many a wayward soul. And today, well there aren't that many judicial paddlings in the world, and not that many countries where they occur. Yet, where they do occur, they aren't all that rare for the citizens living there. And the poor guy that is having to face a judicial paddling is a poor guy indeed, and once the strap or the board or the cane or the whip starts burning its way across that unfortunate and usually very bare ass, well, it's a very serious little ordeal it is. And there aren't any codewords or safewords or stop-it-when-it-really-hurts words. No, none of that. And one thing for certain about a judicial paddling, is that the guy getting the paddling sure figures out in a hurry that whatever he did wasn't such a good idea, and for more than 98% of the countries where it is used, there isn't any such thing really as a repeat offender. No sir, there just aren't that many stupid people in the world.
Now, like I was saying, this story is fiction. Just not ALL fiction. For one thing, my friend Lou didn't really have to live through this, but like the rest of us, well, he could have if he had been just a little bit stupid. And when you are a teenager and your being cool well sometimes being stupid just goes hand in hand with the acne and the girls and the initial discovery of what jerking your meat is all about. Yep, teens can be pretty dumb sometimes, and Lou was no exception. And the place, the country where this story happens, isn't really a country at all, but that doesn't mean it doesn't exists either because it does. Yes sir, most of the things described in this tale are sure real enough, and there are still plenty of judicial paddlings going on in this world.
We all remember the other little American teenager that got his butt burned half off in Singapore. Yep, sure bet Michael Fay didn't take up spray paintin' cars for fun anymore. No sir, just don't imagine that he has given that idea much of a thought after that little appointment with the cane. Probably can't even walk down the paint aisles of Wallmart without getting cold feet and his ass twitching a little. Nope, don't imagine he can even get near a can of spray paint now, not if he wants to keep from shaking and having his voice crack on him. Yep, just don't imagine. And I bet that he had to show that ass of his to all kinds of people when he got back home. Hell, they wanted to put his naked ass on the "Tonight Show" if they could have figured out a way. Yep, can you imagine everywhere you went someone asking you if they could just take one little tiny peek at that bare ass of yours? God...Michael Fay musta shown his ass to a lot of people by now. Of course, what he got was mild compared to some of the punishments I've heard about, and well, a judicial ass burning is one type of ass burning that is sure real enough for the guys that have had it happen to them. Yep, a judicial paddling is real enough, 100% real, in every way a thing can be real.
The boy's name was Louis, and he went by Lou. He was seventeen, and the oldest son in a family of three kids. His brother David was fourteen, and his sister Michelle was fifteen. His dad was a businessman, and Mr. Kelter did a lot of traveling and when he could he liked to take his family. For one thing, it was good for business, and for the other, he felt that a little world travel was an important part of his kids' education. On this particular trip, a trip that was supposed to take him through seven countries in two weeks, he had been really excited about bringing the kids. He had briefed them on the sights they would see, and the places they would go. They prearranged several tours, and he told them all about the planned activities. He briefed them on the culture, and on the food, and on the weather. He even briefed them not to drink the water. But he hadn't briefed them on the things he really should have, and that became immediately apparent as soon as they entered that first country. There, well things had gone bad and they had gone bad really really fast. Everything had been a blur, the vacation, the airplane trip, and the customs officials. He knew they had serious problems as soon as the customs officer had opened his older son's suitcase. There, right on top, were two "Playboy" magazines, three "Penthouse" magazines, and two pornographic videos! It had been way stupid...yeah, that was for sure. In fact, that was real sure now that the boy was sitting in the courtroom. Standing it in would be a better description. There was actually a jail cell right in the middle of the courtroom, and that's where Lou was, standing in the cell, and right now he would rather be anywhere else in the world. Talk about a presumption of innocence....NOT in this country no-sir-ree. One thing was apparent, the mideast was certainly no place to try and sneak in pornography, especially hard core pornography, and the uniformed customs guards had gone absolutely ballistic when they had opened the boy's bag and found them. _d_a_m_n_. But it wasn't like he was carrying drugs or anything---I mean they were just some _d_a_m_n_ videos and a few magazines and they weren't even all that extreme. Mr. Kelter had almost screamed at his kid when he saw them, but of course by then it was too late. And his son had given him no real explanation and he had no idea how serious the situation was rapidly becoming. He said "a friend gave them to me" and he had brought them "to look at" for God's sake! Well, now, it looked like "The Boys of Summer" and "Cherry Poppers" were going to be his undoing.
The boy really should have known better. For one thing, it had been Lou's second trip to the mideast. He had come with his father when he was fifteen and the two of them had had a wonderful time during that trip. The boy was a sharp looking lad, who was on his high school track team, worked out all the time, and had the muscles to show for it. He was tight, the muscles of his stomach were ripped and hard, and his five foot, eleven inch 160 pound body was mostly muscle. He loved to travel with his dad, and in the past the airport customs had always been a breeze. Perhaps it was their previous complacency that had made the boy get careless. They never opened bags, and the last time the custom's guard had just waived him and his dad though. The real search came trying to get ON the plane, not off of it. So, he had never been searched. Not until this time. He couldn't say that anymore; after they found the material they had searched him like he had never dreamed you could be searched. They had taken him into a holding area, and while he cried that had stripped him and searched him and inspected him. They had even searched his mouth and probed his asshole with their fingers. He had begged them not to, but they had done it anyway, and while they had acted serious and even professional they had enjoyed doing it to him just the same. God, he hated this place! Things were so strict here in this society, and even the girls had their faces covered. Alas, one of his high school friends had given him the stuff just the day before they were to leave, and he had thrown the magazines and the videos in almost as an after thought. He had never even had the chance to see the videos.
So, yeah, he had been stupid. And when the customs official had opened his bag there hadn't been any humor in anything that had happened afterwards. Yeah, after that, well, things had happened really fast. The search. The cell. So fast. He was so humiliated, having to see the faces on his family, talking to the US consulate with his mom and dad, and then getting shoved into that _s_h_i_t_ty cell when the rest of the family had reservations at the Crown Royal in the middle of the city. Then later, finding out that a religious trial was unavoidable. They were just videos for God's sake! But over here, he was looking at 30 years for each one! God. He could hardly believe it, and while he had known the laws were strict here and had even some knowledge of some of their barbaric punishments, he never in all of his life ever thought a few mags and some two-bit videos could be this big of a deal, and he sure never thought he would have to worry about any of their stupid punishments. But he was sure worrying now. In fact, he was shaking, and now two weeks from when they had arrived he was missing school, his friends had heard about him on the news, and he was a poster fool for everyone back home to laugh at. _d_a_m_n_. The chance of getting out of this free and clear was slim. He knew that too. His lawyer had explained that much to him. In this country, the trial was pretty cut and dried. The magazines were a big deal in themselves, but the videos were illegal as hell, he was importing them, they were in his bag and in his possession, and his fingerprints were all over them. He was screwed. Further, he was over sixteen, and would be tried as an adult. His lawyer had told his dad to plea bargain, and had advised the family to pay bribe money to try and get the boy out of the prison sentence. Here, sixty years meant sixty years, and if he got that his life was over. OVER. And one thing Lou knew without knowing, without being told, was that prison here was hell on earth, and if he got the time he would do the time, and that meant without doubt he would die there, without any chance of escape or parole.
And so, money had changed hands. Lots of money. His dad wasn't that rich either, but he had willingly spent everything to try and save his son. His dad had had to empty his life savings, and even then it had not been cheap and it had not been enough. He knew a lot more had been borrowed, but right now he just couldn't think about that. He had overheard his mom talking, and he gathered they had even taken up a collection at his dad's work, and most employees were pretty sympathetic although not that generous. God. Even then, after the large sum had been paid, there was no guarantee what the panel of judges would say. So far his dad had paid out more than 70,000 U. S. dollars, and then another $10,000 yesterday, the day before the trial. His mideast lawyer had told him that for enough money the boy would probably not even have to go to trial, but here he was and a trial was definitely going on. God. What did he have to do to get out of this? It had been going on all day for that matter. The language he did not understand, and while occasionally something was said in English, for the most part the trial was conducted in gibberish as far as he was concerned. In the middle of the trial, they had shown the videos, and the judge had stopped them even before they had really started, and the courtroom had been cleared and sealed. In a country where the women were not allowed to show their faces, the very idea of a _s_e_x_ video shocked them to the core. Most witnesses had been forced to leave, and so with only the prosecutor and his attorney and his mom and dad present and the tri-panel of judges that would decide his fate, they had started them again. You could have heard a pin drop in that courtroom. Of the two videos, the first one they viewed, the "Cherry Poppers," clearly got the most intense look, and there were murmurs in the courtroom between the judges and he could tell that the judges were intrigued by what they were seeing. He had tried to figure out the look on their faces, and at first he thought they were enjoying it. But the second video shocked everyone, Lou included. God he wished he had seen it first---it was a gay video his friends had given to him. After the judges saw "The Boys of Summer" he knew he was in very serious trouble. And the look on his parents faces put tears in his eyes. I mean what could he say to them after that? After the videos had been viewed, the judges seemed to be looking at him in disgust—and the look of contempt was unmistakable. Then the judges were talking to him and the interpreter had asked him some questions. His dad had tried to speak up and had been silenced. So, Lou had answered them the best he could and he thought pretty well, but he wasn't sure his answers were being translated correctly. He would talk for three or four minutes trying to explain and apologize, and then the translator would look at the judge and talk for about twenty seconds. Twenty seconds—God what were they really saying???? He had no idea what he was being credited with saying, but it couldn't have been much and he felt disaster looming in on him as every minute of the trial went forward.
Finally, the witnesses were allowed back in, and then his lawyer said some words, and then the prosecutor said some words, and then the judges got up and left and he stood and waited. And he waited some more. His lawyer had gone and talked to his dad, and then come over to his cage, his hot breath outpouring a stench from the rotting lunch he had consumed. With is rag head and his gray beard he didn't look like much, and when he told Lou he had delivered the money his dad had paid and for him not to worry it didn't make him feel a lot better. Finally, the judges walked back in, and his heart stopped and time stood still. The judges then began to speak, and as they did so Lou and his parents crossed their fingers with hope as the translator began to translate what was being said:
"Louis Kelter, you are found guilty of smuggling obscene material of the worst imaginable kind into our country. It depicts acts that defy God and Nature. You should be hanged by your neck until you are dead. You are a disgrace and a danger to our society. You do not deserve even to breath the air we breathe. However, your lawyer begs for mercy from the court, and apologizes for your insolence and corrupt mind. You are young, and stupid, and your father has pleaded with this court to show you mercy. And, we are not a country without mercy. In light of his requests, and the work of your attorney, this court will show mercy on you and your neck will be spared. You should be grateful for his hard work on your behalf."
Lou stared at them. Hanged! God...he hadn't even considered that! And it was just some _d_a_m_n_ videos and a few girlie pictures. This country had a long way to go, that was for sure—definitely something out of the pre-dawn-of-man age. God he wanted to be home! Why the hell had his dad picked this place to bring him for a _d_a_m_n_ vacation? Home, yeah, the good old USA where they understood him and he was free to think whatever the hell he wanted to think. And if he wanted to watch an adult video, what the hell. He was almost 18 for God's sake! _s_h_i_t_—he was freaking. His heart was pounding now, hoping that somehow the money would buy him even more of their mercy and he would be released with a warning. But his hopes were dashed almost before he had time to form the thought.
"You will be taken to the state prison immediately, and held there until your punishment has been served. At noon on Saturday, you are herby sentenced to be tied in the central prison square to the public punishment trestle and summarily strapped on your bare buttocks. You will receive 100 strokes with no reprieve. Afterwards, you will remain imprisoned for 60 days, and you will receive additional time and additional strokes to your bare buttocks for any misbehaviors. May God have mercy on your ass!"
Lou screamed, "OH GOD...NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!" He was not the only one. His mom and dad and brother were there, and his mom had fainted with the reading of the sentence. His dad had pulled his lips tight together, and his younger teenage brother had started crying even as Lou screamed for mercy. It made no difference. The judges stood, and then exited the courtroom without any further comment, their decision final, and not open to appeal. Lou looked to his lawyer, who shrugged his shoulders and looked at the ceiling, then grabbed his briefcase and walked out of the room without any further comment! Screwed! God, screwed! Mr. Kelter was really angry; he had paid his family's life savings and more to get his son two months in a _s_h_i_t_hole jail and 100 lashes!!!! _s_h_i_t_...it was his worst nightmare and he wasn't even sure his son could survive it. He knew too that his job was history—he would never travel again.
What made it even worse was that both Mr. Kelter and Lou knew something of the prison punishments. For one thing, they had been there. During his first visit, almost two years earlier, his local business friend had taken them down to "chop-chop square" as it was known by the locals, and let them watch the show. He had had no idea what they would see, otherwise he would never have taken the then fifteen year old. But he had, and because he had, they both knew something of what was in store now. These 'shows' were always carried out on Saturday and usually once a month. The local population came for miles to see them, as they were open to the public. Crowds were sometimes in excess of 5,000, especially if there was a beheading or a hanging. When an American or other foreign visitor came to watch, the crowd usually pushed them forward, right to the edge of the stage area, just to make sure they got to watch everything. Such had been the case during their visit, and the close view had made the memory clear and intense. He remembered that he had wanted his son to see the paddlings. Yep, and he remember that they had both loved them. He was somewhat embarrassed at the memory, and he had watched them with a bone in his pants he had. He especially remembered one dark haired lad, and how he had cried and begged and jerked, all the while his ass was turning redder than anything he would have believed. Oh yeah, he had liked watching that! But God, NOW...now it was going to be son's TURN! Lou was crying, and as he was led away he looked at his dad and their eyes met, and they both knew, they KNEW this was going to be worse than a bad nightmare.
As the boy was led away Mr. Kelter was lost in thought, the memory of his previous visit flooding his mind. Punishment days always begin with the punishment of the most violent criminals; rapists, murderers, and drug dealers. Yep, they were always punished first. The beheadings were quick, the prisoners made to kneel with a blindfold over their eyes, the sword taking their heads with a single slice. The hangings were slower, usually the prisoners were stood on milk crates, their hands tied behind their back and with the rope around their necks tied to an overhanging horizontal pole. After the sentence was read, the prisoner's crate was pulled out from under him, and he would flop and twist and jerk, struggling until he suffocated. While he did so, the sentence for the next prisoner, standing next to him, was read, and then his crate was knocked out, and his twitching would begin. And so it would go, until the last person to be hanged was twitching and jerking, his tongue bulging out and his eyes bugged and open. Sometimes it would take up to fifteen minutes for them to die. Yeah, he could close his eyes and remember everything just like it was yesterday. He remembered the hangings, and how he had watched twenty men struggle, their feet bicycling through the air, toes arched toward the ground and with just inches between life and death, trying desperately to find something to stand on, to touch. He had remembered his son's reaction, and how he had tried to get him out of there but the crowd had been too tight and too thick and it had not been possible to leave. Yeah, he remembered his first visit alright...and how his son had freaked over the punishments. At the time he had laughed at his boy, and kept reminding him how lucky he had it and how easy life was for him in America. If he had only known! Now he was going to be there again with his boy but this time to watch his son be a part of the spectacle. Oh GOD...would his son be able to handle it? Would he?
He remembered the robbers, that was a memory he could never forget. They were always punished after the executions. Usually, there were several thieves getting their right hand chopped off. It was brutal, the leather wrist strap used to pull the prisoner's wrist across the wooden chopping block, the axe slamming down to form a bloody fountain, where with a single swift chop the hand was severed at the wrist, or just above the wrist. It was always the right hand too. For a man to lose his right hand in a country that had no toilet paper was a disgrace like no other. In this society, the left hand was used for only one purpose, to splash the water from the cleaning bowl onto your ass in order to clean yourself after you had taken a _s_h_i_t_. Literally, the left hand was the ass wiping hand, and consequently NO ONE touched anything else with their left hand. So, to lose your right hand doomed you to a life of absolute humiliation that would never go away. Likewise, most prisoners were branded, either on their forehead or their ass, to show anyone that looked where their status had been and what was the nature of their crime. Humiliation was a part of every punishment, and acted as a deterrent to those even thinking of doing something similar. Mr. Kelter remembered his son's reaction to the amputations. He had thought that the thieves deserved it, and he laughed at them having to use their left hand to both wipe their asshole as well as feed their mouths. In fact, the two of them had laughed at that together!
But it was the last punishments that Mr Kelter was remembering now. The punishment for other crimes came next, after the forced amputations. When individuals were caned or flogged, they were usually tied to a trestle, a large A-frame device that kept their arms outstretched over their head and their feet tied securely to the bottom of the A-frame. Some of the frames had ankle stocks, so their feet were put through the holes in a thick plank which trapped them and held them still for their punishment. Prisoners were always flogged and caned in a standing position. For the strappings and paddlings, the frames bent the prisoner forward at his waist, to better prop up the buttocks and better expose the ass for the strap. Depending on the prisoner and the nature of the offenses, usually the buttocks were the only part that was exposed and naked. If the offender was a boy, then he was usually paddled bare and naked, to add to his shame. Hard wooden paddles were used for boys, while the preferred leather straps were used for adults. The straps were said to hurt more, but from the expression on the boys that had felt the wooden paddle, it probably wasn't a lot more. For adults, the offender was usually clothed, and remained so, and even the ass was usually covered with a thin dampened linen cloth which covered the skin but offered little, if any, real protection. But for individuals convicted of _s_e_x_ual crimes, like his son, well, the clothing was always removed, just to add to the humiliation.
For Lou, sitting back in his cell, he too was thinking of his visit a few years back with is father. But it wasn't the hangings or the beheadings or the amputations he was thinking about. No, he was thinking about the paddlings, and the men he had seen it done to. He was sentenced to a strapping, which he knew was normally done with a state prison paddle, or punishment strap as it was referred to. This was meant to be a humiliation paddling, as much as a painful paddling, and therefore because of the _s_e_x_ual nature of his crime he knew that his ass would be bared completely, the pants pulled off and removed like he was a teenage delinquent, which he realized, he was. Without the bribe money his dad had paid if he had not been hanged he would certainly have been sentenced to the cane, and 100 strokes with the cane would have killed him just as surely as the noose, pants on or off. But they weren't going to kill him over two videos and a few magazines, not with the money that had been paid. Instead, he would be paddled with an implement that came right out of the British prison system. It had a wooden handle, eighteen inches in length, and to that handle was a thick, ¼ inch thick, piece of leather, four inches wide and twenty six inches long. A series of holes ran down the center of this strap, and the thickness of the leather give the impression it was more of a paddle than a strap. But it would curve to the shape of the prisoner's buttocks, and the pain was said to be intense and unbelievable. Of course, the shear number of strokes and the size of the holes in the strap would eventually cut his buttocks, the small holes grabbing and ripping out small little chunks of his inflamed flesh right from his ass. It wouldn't happen right away though. It would take some time and the initial damage wasn't all that deep, like it is with a cane. But it was still going to be intensely painful and in time the prison strap would pulverize his ass.
This being a religious country, modesty was everything, and even a prisoner sentenced to the strap for a _s_e_x_ual crime would not be forced to stand naked with his prick dancing out for the world to see. No, adult _s_e_x_ual organs were just NEVER displayed. Instead, for the strappings where the pants were removed, the penis would be placed into a leather sheath, made from sheep leather that had been dyed bright pink. It wasn't just made from any sheep leather either. No, that would have been too easy. Instead, it was formed from the ass of a sheep, and then it was dried and oiled and made into a tube with the sheep's anus forming the only opening. The opening was kept soft and supple, and it gripped the penis very tightly when it was inserted. The leather that formed the rest of the tube was tanned and was much firmer, which kept its shape and allowed it to be secured to the trestle. The entire thing was made to humiliate the prisoner, at the same time keeping his dick from being seen by the crowd. It was dyed pink, and the pink tube would encase his manhood and keep it held up and out of the way. The leather tube that encased the prisoner's penis was attached to the punishment trestle in such a way that it was literally pushed into the prisoner's body, holding his _c_o_c_k_, and it always drew laughs from the crowd. While the tube prevented the witnesses from seeing the end of the prisoner's penis, the male's shaft tended to slide in and out of the sheath as the prisoner struggled, which always gave the impression the prisoner was making love to the trestle even as his ass was being thrashed. The crowd knew what the tube was made of, and they loved the thought that the prisoner's dick was sliding in and out of a sheep's ass as he was paddled. It always got a reaction from the crowd and was usually totally embarrassing for the prisoner. Of course, that was part of the idea.
Lou was devastated. Saturday was approaching, and there was nothing he could do to prevent it. He felt totally screwed, and after the trial his parents had been working hard with the consulate to try and get the sentence changed. Even his home senators had made calls on his behalf. However, what they found out was just what Lou's lawyer had already told all of them, that he had actually been extremely lucky, and could easily have been hanged for the videos. The fact that he wouldn't be in jail for the rest of his life, and that his incarceration was only for a couple of months was amazing according to the men that were knowledgeable of the legal system. Still, it was a harsh sentence, and a humiliating one, and there wasn't much doubt that for Lou Kelter, when they finished with his seventeen year old ass, it would never really be the same. Yes sir, definitely not the same after 100 strokes of the leather. With the American's punishment in the news, the expected crowd size was huge, and there were lots of people that would come just to see how an American boy would take the well deserved strapping of his bare ass.
Saturday Morning...
Lou hadn't slept worth a _d_a_m_n_. He hadn't been allowed to see his attorney or his parents since they had taken him from the courtroom. The guards had visited him around 8am, and had come in with a bucket and a nylon scrub pad and had proceeded to scrub him thoroughly. His balls and ass and crack and legs and chest and arms had been washed with a strong soap, and the bucket bath had been somewhat painful and totally embarrassing for the teen. He had tried to help them and bathe himself, but his hands had been forced to the top of his head, and he had been made to keep them there as he was scrubbed down by the heavy set guards. Afterwards he was made to dress in white cotton pants that were baggy and long. He was not given a shirt to wear. He also wasn't given any underwear. Then, his hands had been secured at his front with a leather thong, its lose ends dangling all the way to the floor, and a guard had been placed outside his cell to watch him continuously. He started to hear the first noises of a gathering crowd out of his cell window around 8am, but there was a wall behind the window and he wasn't able to see anything. Things got underway at 10am...he could hear the crowd outside the cell and in the large open prison yard. He couldn't see anything, but he could hear the roar of the crowd as other prisoners were brought out of their cells and carried to their fates. Knowing the protocol, he figured the executions started around 1030 or 11am, and he could almost see the heads falling as he heard the crowd roar with each beheading. From the sound of things he figured two had been executed. Then, next came the slower deaths, and he listened to the crowd and afterwards figured that today six or seven had been strangled with the rope. He wondered what they had done. He was actually thankful he wasn't watching any of it happen. He tried to close out the sounds, but he could not, and yet even with his eyes closed the memories from his first visit all came flooding back. He was shaking, and was so scared he peed in the concrete trough that ran through the back of his cell three times in the last hour. Hell, he still felt like he could pee again. Then, well, then, about 1145, they came for him, four guards, and they were all business. God his heart was pounding!
As he was dragged out into the hot sun Lou Kelter squinted..._d_a_m_n_ the sun was bright! And man, look at the people! God, the square was crowded. He was being pulled along, and then up the stairs and onto the platform. The crowd cheered! Everywhere he looked there were people, sitting or standing, some climbing up on things to get a better view. Then he saw them, only one row back! Dad! Mom! David! Michelle! Why had they come? He saw his mom wave, trying to smile, but GOD he wished they weren't here. Oh how he wished that with all he had. Oh _s_h_i_t_! Next to his family—those had to be reporters! Oh hell, just like Michael Fay's fiasco, the American press was here, this time to SEE IT for God's sake! Oh God this was going to be bad! Then, there it WAS---the TRESTLE! Oh how it looked different this time! And they weren't wasting any time either. Suddenly, they were strapping him to it—they shoved him up against the giant A-frame and pulled his legs wide apart. Very wide. At the corners of the trestle the leather thongs had already been secured and were waiting for him. It took only seconds for them to tie them to his ankles, running the thick leather cord around each of his ankles three times, then between the trestle and his ankles, frapping the thongs and then securing them back to the wooden beam. He was next pulled over a bar that came half way up his thighs, and the leather already tying his two wrists together was attached to the far leg of the wooden triangle. It was pulled tight, very tight, stretching his entire upper body horizontal to the ground, jutting his ass outward almost like it was begging for it. The hair of his armpits was visible to everyone, the sweat clearly visible and the hair wetted and dark. God! As they tightened his bonds he struggled, and immediately realized he couldn't do a lot of moving. He could buck his hips a little, but not much, and there was no way to pull his legs together or do anything other that wiggle his ass some. The guards then grabbed the thin cotton pants and jerked them off of him, tearing them in the process. He was naked, except for a small towel that one of the guards was holding covering his genitals and keeping them from being displayed to everyone. As his pants came off the crowd roared with delight. Immediately, one of the guards grabbed his _c_o_c_k_—GOD HE DID, and then he lubricated it with some kind of oil to prevent abrasions. Lou looked down, and as he did so he saw the tube of leather being readied. OH GOD, the rumors WERE TRUE—it was made from a sheep' ass, and the sphincter ring was still clearly visible even though it was no longer a part of the animal from which it had been made. Then, unable to prevent it, he watched as his teenage penis was inserted into the thing penetrating the pink leather sheepskin tube and serving as his new underwear, hiding his dick from the crowd. His faced flushed red with the embarrassment. As they were doing this to him, the crowd was laughing at him, and before he knew it his dick was encased in the leather, literally swallowed by the tanned sheep's ass, the thing gripping him so firmly it was almost like an elastic band was tight against the base of his dick. He looked down toward his dick, and saw the bright pink tube which held his _c_o_c_k_, and it looked almost flesh like. As he looked at it he was so humiliated he could hardly stand the thought. The tube was attached to the trestle mid-post, and was pushing itself into him, keeping his _c_o_c_k_ firmly entombed. His young black pubic hair sprouted around the opening in the tube against his body, and it gave the impression that the pink tube of sheepskin was jutting from his garden of hair, like some obscene root growing like a wild weed. He felt his dick stir within the casing. Just then, someone grabbed his hair, and pulled his head backwards, raising his chin and forcing him to look straight ahead. They slipped some kind of leather harness over his head, and it kept his head tilted up, staring at the crowd. It was uncomfortable as hell, and with it in place he was unable to look behind him to see what was being done to him. He couldn't look away from their stares either. He saw that his sister was staring at his crotch, looking at the obscene leather that housed his _c_o_c_k_. Oh God, his faced flushed red with the thought. He struggled just then, fighting against the inevitable paddling that he knew was only minutes away, and as he did so the crowd roared with their approval. He could feel the gently breeze blowing, the air moving between his legs, and under the hot sun he knew his balls were hanging down and swinging like plums eager for the picking. He jerked hard just then, and he actually could feel his balls move, and as he thrusted trying to pull free he felt his dick slide within the confines of the sheepskin, and as it did so he could feel it thicken and lengthen. Oh God! No!
Then, two of the biggest men he had ever seen suddenly walked out on stage and stood in front of his face. He was staring at their tight and well muscled rear ends, as they faced the crowd. They were both wearing black pants, and no shirts. Their muscles rippled, and it was obvious that working out was part of their daily routine. The guards dwarfed the boy in the trestle, making Lou look much smaller than his seventeen years. The guard to his left was holding the standard state mandated punishment strap. Lou looked at it, his gaze studying it. The man's hand gripped the long wooden handle, and Lou could see the thick leather hanging down from it, the bright sunlight visible through the holes down its middle. It was wide and thick and very serious looking, and it was obvious that it was meant to hurt and there wasn't any doubt it would. The guard to his right was also holding a punishment implement, but it wasn't the prescribed punishment strap Lou had been expecting. Instead, it appeared to be a straight wooden paddle, only longer than any paddle that Lou had ever laid his eyes on. It was built like a cricket paddle, and was six inches in width, and at least three feet long and ½ inch thick. He didn't see any holes in its surface, but _d_a_m_n_ it looked ominous. He hadn't expected to see a straight paddle—those were usually reserved for young boys and they were also usually smaller. He assumed it was there to add to his humiliation, and the crowd roared when they saw it. God—he was going to get both!
The men then walked behind him, and he could no longer see them. The loudspeaker crackled to life, and while he couldn't make out the words it was obvious that they were reading his crimes and his sentence. The crowd was thrilled that an American was going to get a taste of the paddle. When the speaker announced his sentence of 100 strokes there was a huge applause, and it seemed everyone in the crowd felt that it was well deserved. From the expressions of the people he could see, it was obvious they approved of all of this and were anxious to see it begin. He looked straight ahead, and there a lad of around fifteen was staring right at him, a huge grin across his face and his eyes bright with an anticipation that was obvious. As Lou saw him, he felt his dick stir within the leather tube that held it hidden. Looking to his right, he saw his 14year old brother watching with an intensity that was difficult to figure out. It was almost like he was excited too, although he knew that he wasn't. He didn't look at his mom or dad—he could see them next to his brother and sister, but he didn't allow his eyes to look at them. He was just too humiliated to do that.
Suddenly, he felt the strap against his ass, the distance being measured. Then it was removed, and he felt the hard board touch his ass, the other guard holding it making sure he had the distance just perfect before he began the swing. Lou struggled, but it accomplished nothing, and then he closed his eyes and tried to move his mind elsewhere.
Then, in a fluid motion, suddenly the strap was moving, and moving FAST. Swisssssh.....SLAPPPPPPPPPP. OH GOD! He bit his lip and grunted, the pain shooting across his ass and wrapping all the way around his side! OH GOD IT HURT! Oh it hurt more than anything had ever hurt in his life, and the sting was so powerful that he felt his entire ass convulse, and he literally and figuratively almost pissed himself from the impact. God—and that was only the first hit! Before he could fully comprehend the pain, which was still rising to new levels as the post impact seconds passed, he heard a whissssssssssssssss...CRACKKKKK as the hard wooden paddle slammed into his already flaming ass. He grunted, and an "UGGGG" escaped his lips, and the pain went through him through him through him, burying all the way, consuming him, and owning him. Suddenly, he heard the swisssssh..... SLAPPPPPPPPP again and he screamed out "AHGGGGGGGGGGGG" and then "NOOOOOOOO!!!" With his yell, the crowd literally roared with excitement! His eyes met the boy's across the stage, and the smile had turned to laughter and he was obviously enjoying every second of what he was seeing. With each SLAP and each CRACK the loudspeaker announced the count, methodically and slowly, approximately a hit every 20 seconds. The strap. The paddle. The strap and the paddle and the strap and the paddle. Again and again and again, without hesitation, falling into his ass with a force that was unbelievable. The speaker called out the strokes. At first he could make out the count, but soon he was through ten and after that he didn't know the numbers anymore. Swisssssh......SLAPPPPPPPPPP. Whissssssssssss...CRACKKKKK!!!!! "UGGGGGGG...Oh GODDDDDDDDD....PLEASE!!!!" he yelled. The pain kept growing, and had soon reached a level where it merged into his brain and a madness from the pain consumed him. He was then struggling without abandon, screaming at the top of his lungs, bucking within the limits of his bonds, shaking the trestle and begging for mercy in a merciless country; SLAPPPPPPPP----CRACKKKKKKKK-----SLAPPPPPPPPPPP----CRACKKKKKKKKK. Oh GOD! "AHHHHHHHHHHH". "PLEASEEEEEEEEEE". CRACKKKKKKK. Swisssssssssh....SLAPPPPPPP. OH GOD can't it stop can't it stop can't it stop!
Suddenly, hardly aware of what he was doing, he began to buck his hips in a wild and primal attempt to somehow escape the onslaught that was consuming his ass. His legs were tied out wide, and his entire ass was totally exposed and very much on fire. The inside of his crack was turning bright red, as the end of the leather strap would curve around his butt cheek and then smash into his inner recesses, occasionally striking his very hole as it did so. Twice now it had kissed his ball sack. He bucked and humped and jerked and struggled, and as he went wild the crowd applauded and laughed out their approval, enjoying ever single minute of his misery. CRACKKKKKKKK. Swissssssssss.... SLAPPPPPPP!!!! He was struggling so hard, thrusting so hard, that his dick was pistoning in and out of the leather sheath that held it and rapidly was reaching the point of no return.
Swissssssssss....SLAPPPPPP!!!! OH GOD and then "OHHHH _f_u_c_k_KKKKKK" he screamed just as his balls convulsed and his whole body spasmed, shooting his teenaged cream from his nuts with a tremendous force, filling the inside of the sheath that covered his _c_o_c_k_ and bulging the sides out as it did so. He was shooting harder and more than he had ever shot in his life. The tight opening of the leather that had been made from the asshole of a sheep gripped his _c_o_c_k_ so tightly that it somehow contained his full load, and yet the entire leather case bulged out and pulsated as his dick was spurting inside. At first no one in the audience was aware that he was ejaculating even as he was squirting. He was jerking and convulsing and his asshole was twitching, his big balls drawing up tight and hard beneath him. But slowly, very slowly, the semen began seeping around the constriction where his dick exited the sheath, and as it did so a little of his white spunk was becoming visible, a line dripping from around his pubic hair and running down his balls. Of course, he didn't know who could see what, and as he thought of his family watching him ejaculate his face flushed bright red and literally matched his ass. As the semen slowly became visible, the fluid filled case still holding his _c_o_c_k_ bulging from the fluid pumped into it, the crowd began to laugh as more and more people noticed what he was doing. Still the blows continued continuously, even as he pumped out his jism and struggled, his hips humping the A-frame in desperation and his dick jerking and twitching in its own private ecstasy within the confines of the sheepskin tube. Whisssssssss... CRAKKKKKK!!!!!! "PLEASEEEEEEEEEE" Swisssssssh..... SLAPPPPPPPPP. "OH GOD HELP MEEEEEE!!!!" Again and again and again the strap and the paddle slammed into his bare ass, and it was soon glowing a bright red color that was flushed bright and intense, and was so red in fact it almost looked like it had been painted.
The pain went to a new level, his nerve endings becoming super sensitive after he had ejaculated and his orgasm had subsided. He started screaming then, a long continuous babbling scream that echoed across the stage and was piercing to everyone that heard it. Yet the laughter of the crowd and the cheers continued, the audience taking tremendous pleasure out of the knowledge he was getting what they all just KNEW he deserved. Swissssssss.... SLAPPPPPP!!! CRACKKKKKKK!!!! "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" he screamed, his hips bucking like a madman who knew there was no hope no hope no hope.
Suddenly, everything stopped.
Time stood still.
The speaker announced something, and as he watched the two guards came back around and stood in front of him. He could see the sweat dripping off their backs, and they were literally panting from the exertion they had felt as they had been driving their implements into his naked ass. Was he done? OH GOD PLEASE BE DONE. Suddenly, two youths came up the stairs on the stage, literally bouncing with enthusiasm. They looked to be his age, around sixteen or seventeen at the maximum, and they were built. Their bodies were sharp, their stomachs ripped with muscles, and they wore the same black pants as the guards holding the paddles. Their eyes were deep and big, and their eyelashes were jet black and long, and they were extremely handsome. Then, as Lou watched, his ass burning like it was on fire, he saw the two panting guards hand their instruments to the two teenagers, who raised them up over their heads and then went around behind him, out of his view and next to his waiting ass. OH GOD NOOOOO! Then, he suddenly felt the instruments of his torture touch his red ass again, which was burning so bad he jumped when they kissed his skin. As he did so, he stole a glance towards his family. His sister was smiling! Oh GOD she was she was she was. His brother, well his brother was watching, and he still had that look he couldn't figure out. Then suddenly, without any warning, there was a tremendous CRACKKKKKKK more powerful and more intense than anything he had ever felt in his life, far more powerful it seemed that the guards had just delivered. With the crack he forgot everything else, and OH GOD, the one boy was swinging it with both hands! "AHHHHHHHHHHHHH OHHHH AHHHHHHHHHHH" he screamed. The pain flooded him, and his ass was burning so bad that he wasn't sure he even had an ass really left. Then, the fire went beyond anything that can be described, and as the sound of the strap registered in his ears he screamed a primal, blood curdling scream that had no beginning and no ending. SLAPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP! His hips bucked, almost on their own, and he was driving himself wild on the apparatus struggling somehow someway to get loose and stop this madness before it destroyed him. He felt his prick growing hard yet again, as it sloshed around inside the wet sheath, sliding in his own spunk that was bulging out the pink leather.
And so it continued. Minute after minute, stroke after stroke after stroke. The crowd was cheering with each stroke, really enjoying watching the two local teenagers strap the American boy who loved the porn. Suddenly, Lou just couldn't contain the tears anymore, and his eyes opened like a flood. From that minute onward he was bawling like a little boy, crying his heart out, begging for mommy and all teenage smugness gone with it. He cried continuously, his face red from shame, the burn in his ass fueling his tears that were literally streaming down his face. With the tears came a thunderous applause, the crowd thrilled to see the American crying like a baby boy. Oh yes he was feeling it now! Even as he cried, the teenagers that were swinging the strap and paddle were turning his ass into a flaming caldron of smashed flesh, and as the strap landed people could notice small bits from his ass flying up and into the air. Slowly, the blood began to trickle down his legs, running along his ballsack and then dripping to the ground below. Whisssssssss.... CRACKKKKKKKK!!! His ass was turning a deeper shade of red now, almost purple actually, and as he thrusted forward and back, pumping his slime covered penis in and out of the sheath that held it, the crowd laughed with glee and everyone was enjoying what they were seeing. He had long since lost count of the strokes, and while the speaker kept calling them out, every few seconds it seemed the monotone kept the count, yet he had no idea what it was. His struggles were more intense than before now, the burn greater and the boys that were paddling him becoming heroes as they did so. SLAPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!! Whisssssssss...CRAKKKKKK!!!!!! "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH." The tears continued flowing out of his face and down his cheeks, and his ass was bucking again like a madman, the crowd laughing hysterically as they watched his ass rise and fall, turning darker with each stroke that landed and he a babbling fool crying like an infant.
Then, once again the paddling stopped. His dick throbbed within the confines of the pink sheath, on the verge of cumming a second time. His dick was even feeling the burn from his ass, and the pain seemed to have spread down his balls and there was even a numbness that went to his legs. The tears were pouring down his face, visible to everyone, and the crowd was giving a tremendous applause to the two teenagers that had just pulverized his ass. Suddenly, he saw two more men approach the stage, and they were more powerful than any men he had ever seen in his life. OH GOD! These men too had jet black hair, with muscles that ripped across the stomachs and a smattering of hair on their armpits. He had no idea how old they were, but they were built like professional wrestlers, with giant arms and powerful backs and just the thought they were taking the paddles was almost more than he could handle. And they sure were enthusiastic, and took the paddle and the strap away from the young teens that were panting and standing there, the sweat literally running down their backs that glistened from the exercise. The new paddlers were swinging the paddles through the air with two hands, like one would swing a baseball bat, and as they practiced the crowd roared their approval. Then, as before, the new fresh paddlers went around to his rear, and out of his sight, and the sweating teens that had just smashed his ass left the stage to the thunderous cheers of the audience.
OH GOD...HOW MANY MORE?????
The big men began again the onslaught into the American's rear, and as they did so he fought desperately with a renewed vigor, still bawling like a baby. His ass was so purple now that it looked like a mound of hamburger, and it had already begun to swell even as the strap and the paddle continued to impact it with a resounding SPLATTTTTTTTTTT. The crowd loved watching these huge men pulverize the teenager's ass, giving it to him and giving it to him good. There! A chant began somewhere, and then began to grow, the words lost to the American and his family and yet the chants purpose clear and unmistakable. SMACK HIM SMACK HIM SMACK HIM SMACK HIM. Over and over again, the crowd roared their approval and were cheering so loudly that they almost drown out the sounds of the paddles. OH GOD. Then the biggest of the men with the strap began to strike the boy's ass diagonally, letting the end of the leather curve up and under, slamming into the Lou's asscrack with a vengeance. Occasionally, the very tip of the leather curved all the way around and snapped the boy's hanging balls, and everytime that happened Lou jerked with a spasm and cried out with a scream. Then, it happened again, and with the ballstrike his eyes rolled up and he fainted.
Everything stopped.
As the boy lay slumped on the trestle, the crowd grew quiet as the on hand doctor approached the boy. He listened to his heart, and took the boys pulse. Then, he cracked open some smelling salts, and the boys head snapped up and his eyes opened wide as his nostrils sucked up the drug. The crowd cheered—there was no way they wanted him sleeping through his punishment. Then, suddenly, realizing where he still was, the boy panicked, struggling wide awake like a madman, trying desperately to get away with a look of total desperation on his face, his ass burning so hot that he was screaming with the misery. As soon as the boy was clearly awake, again feeling the flames radiating from his ass, the doctor gave a nod and the strap was moving again Swissssssss.... SLAPPPPPP!!! "AHHHHHHHHHHHH" screamed the boy. Whisssssssss...CRAKKKKKK!!!!!! "OH GODDDDDDD!!!" The American boy bucked and jerked and twitched, struggling for any relief even though relief was impossible. The tears were pouring out again, and snot ran out of his nose and down to his chin. He had lost most of his voice by now, the screams and cry's slowly replaced with loud GRUNTS that coincided with each CRACKKKKKKK of the board and SLAPPPPPP of the strap. His ass was now so sore that the pain was just continuous and deep and forever. He continued to buck his hips, a primal urge to escape, and the minutes dragged by and the blows continued to fall like rain. He had no idea where he was or who he was or what was happening, not any more he didn't. Even the sounds of the crowd, the hysterically laughter, the loud clapping that came with each grunt he made, was all just blurring together now. Suddenly, his dick spasmed again---he felt himself cumming, squirting his juices into the leather casing once again, still trapped by the seal of the leather against his _c_o_c_k_. He grunted from the feeling, his balls spasming, the fluid within him then bulging out the leather even more and then more again, jetting out like a fountain inside the sheath tightly covering his dick. Suddenly, the leather ass ring could contain the pressure no more, and under the pressure from his two ejaculations the jizz squirted out around the base of his _c_o_c_k_, almost like a spurt from a broken hose, soaking his pubic hair with his white fluid and bringing the crowd to their feet. His mom fainted at the sight. The spray was visible to EVERYONE, and as his double wad splashed out from the tube containing his dick the blows continued to fall, spreading his juices into a giant spray with each impact into his flesh. His sister took it all in, and she couldn't take her eyes off her brothers spunk that was shooting out from the leather housing at the base of his dick. The boys spunk was splattering from the blows, some landing on his chest, his legs, and even the stage. Lou was grunting continuously, his face bright red with shame, and his ass purple now, smashed and minced like raw meat, as his double load of semen shot out from around the edges of the sheath and then dripped down his balls and fell in a long slimy drool stringing its way to the ground. Then, well, then, his dick popped out! It might have been because of all the lubrication he was producing, or it might have been because the blows had loosened up the ties, or it might have been just bad luck. But for whatever reason his dick was suddenly exposed, still squirting the last of his spunk from its big purple head, his dick bouncing obscenely to the blows of the strap. The crowd exploded in laughter, and Lou's face flushed from the embarrassment, the last smasms of his ejaculation still squirting out as he gave the crowd his own little porn show, his black pubic hair glistening wet from his juices. The leather sheath was just hanging down, the remainder of his spunk from his earlier ejaculation pouring out of it and running onto the stage. For Lou, it was the ultimate in humiliation.
Suddenly, it was over. He was only semi-conscious at this point, his ass literally paddled right off of him. It didn't even look like an ass anymore. The swelling had already started, and it was turning a deeper shade of purple that gave it the look of something not quite right for a human. The crowd was clapping loudly for the two hard police officers that had finished the job, and then all the guards appeared back on stage and to a thunderous standing ovation they all bowed together.
Then, just before they started to unstrap him, he suddenly felt a searing pain in his ass like no other pain on earth. He screamed again, bucking his hips, even as he heard the crowd laughing, and he immediately realized that one of his tormentors had just applied a burning brand to the right cheek of his ass, holding the iron in place until it had burned its way into him. He jerked from the pain, and smelled his own flesh burning as the hot iron etched a giant mark into his swollen rear that would be with him as long as he lived. He couldn't read the brand, and had no idea what it said just then. Later he would learn that he had been marked with a symbol that literally said "public hole." As with most languages, the translation wasn't perfect, and it might have been better translated as "willing _f_u_c_k_hole." It was not a brand anyone would want on their ass, that's for sure. Then, after he had been branded, they unstrapped him. He tried to stand, but could not really, his legs too wobbly just yet to support his weight. He never looked toward his family, his humiliation just too complete to handle their stare. People were laughing hysterically as he was pulled off the trestle, his limp dick spent and drooling, a line of cum still oozing down in a long clear string that went from his tip all the way to the floor. Just then, when he didn't think things could be any worse, his bladder just opened up on its own and without control the long spray of bright yellow urine began to pour from his hose, taking the last string of semen with it. He went red faced with shame, and as he looked up his eyes locked once again on the young teenager at the edge of the stage. The boy was laughing and clapping, and seemed thrilled with what he had seen and what he was watching. One other thing was noticeable—the boy was boned and his pants bulged from his pleasure.
Lou was then dragged by his arms face down back toward the cell area of the prison, his bright pulverized and newly branded ass facing the sky. As they dragged the seventeen year old, his urine pissed from his hanging dick until his bladder had finally emptied himself, the little stream slowly turning to a dribble. Below him, the wetted line from his urine stream showed clearly where he had been dragged. He was thrown into a cell with 10 other men, the dirty trough at the far end running from cell to cell heaped with feces and the entire thing smelling worse than any dump. It would be his home for the next two months. The guards dropped him on a thin matt on the floor, as the bunks were all taken, and he hit the filthy floor with a thud, his huge purple ass jutting into the air. One of the prisoners spoke up in perfect English, "_d_a_m_n_, look at that boy's ASS!" Just then the warden walked up to the edge of the cell, and spoke through the bars.
"Hey, you....American. You better hurry up and heal up my friend. These cellmates are anxious for you. Yep, _d_a_m_n_ anxious I suspect. Your ass is THEIRS and I'm gonna enjoy watching the show. You understand me? And if you don't perform like a circus dog, I'll strap that ass everyday if I have to. You got that?????" Then, he burst out laughing, and as he walked away his laughter could still be heard for a very long time. For Lou, the laughter rang in his ears all night, and was still lingering in his head long after the walls had swallowed it up. He lay next to the trough of filth, not daring to move, his ass swollen to almost twice its normal size, and still burning as if it was on fire. All he could do was cry, a huge heaving cry; a cry of total misery and of total shame. As he did so, he looked up, and noticed one of the men nearest him, watching him, staring even, the look of lust filling his eyes.
Postscript: Lou Kelter wasn't attacked in prison. Yeah, he got lucky there. One of the older prisoners protected him, and so he survived his sixty days in hell. It took that long for his ass to heal anyway, and even then it wasn't quite the same ass as it had been before. When he finally was released, his parents flew him home to America immediately. He was met by the press, and for weeks afterwards the calls were ongoing night and day. He had missed the end of school, and so was enrolled in summer school so he could go on to his senior year. Everywhere he went and everyone he met wanted to see his ass, to hear about what it was like, and to find out if all the rumors were true. For Lou, all he wanted to do was hide and forget the memory, an impossible wish. The memory would be with him forever, just like the brand that was burned into his rear.
[I would appreciate any and all comments and will respond to anyone that takes the time to write. –nathan9001@yahoo. com]