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Dixieland Justice

by Christophorus Volkov

Copyright on this story text belongs at all times to the original author only, whether stated explicitly in the text or not. The original date of posting to the MMSA was: 26 Feb 2018

A Michigander in the backroads of Dixieland, Jarron knew he needed to get back on the main highway as soon as he could. He’d taken the wrong turn after stopping for gas. Now he was lost somewhere between Birmingham and Montgomery in the U.S. State of Alabama.

Phone service was sketchy, and he was trying to get his GPS to work when he blew through a stop sign. A county mounty was waiting. Deputy Sheriff Clem Cadderson was about to become Jarron’s worst nightmare.

Jarron was 21-years-old and was going into his senior year of college. He’d gotten an internship in Montgomery at a local internet company. It was a great gig, but he had to get there by 4:00 pm or he’d be late to meet the CEO of the company. The sudden appearance of a Sheriff’s car behind him made him more than nervous

Deputy Cadderson was not much older than Jarron. He was known as the Sheriff’s Office’s hothead. His temper was short, and his attitude was shorter. The Michigan license plate on Jarron’s vehicle was something practically foreign in Cadderson’s county. Jarron might as well have been from some far away land.

Why is this guy following me? Jarron asked out loud.

Within a couple of seconds, the lights came on and Jarron knew why. He pulled over immediately.

Deputy Cadderson opened the door to his cruiser, and he stepped out. He approached the driver’s side door cautiously gripping his firearm. Jarron rolled down his window and instinctively put both of his hands outside the car so the deputy could see them.

Don’t move until I tell you to, do you understand, boy? warned Deputy Cadderson.

Yes sir, I understand clearly! yelled back Jarron. He was a little miffed that the deputy addressed him in such a disrespectful manner, but he didn’t feel as if this was the time to call internal affairs.

Deputy Cadderson looked down at Jarron over his sunglasses. He saw another disrespectful punk kid on a joyride through his county. Some northern scum here disrespecting the law because he thought he could. Do you know why I stopped you? asked the deputy.

No sir. I’m sorry. I don’t, Jarron answered meekly.

You drove through a stop sign about two miles back there. I also clocked you at 60 miles per hour, and the speed limit along this county road is 55.

With all due respect sir, that’s only five miles per hour over the speed limit, and I’m very sorry about the stop sign. I am from out of town, and I need to be in Montgomery by four. I was trying to get back to the interstate, explained Jarron.

Get out of the car.

What’s this for? What have I done? asked an incredulous Jarron.

Are you resisting? said Deputy Cadderson with his hand on his gun.

No sir. I’ll get out.

Jarron carefully opened his door and stepped out into the warm Alabama afternoon air. At well over six-feet tall, he stood a full head taller than Deputy Cadderson. The deputy found himself somewhat intimidated by Jarron’s height.

Jarron wore a plain white t-shirt with a pair of basketball shorts and some slides on his feet. Underneath his shorts, he wore a simple pair of boxer briefs. His muscular chest and large quads made him look imposing, but he was really just a pushover. Jarron wouldn’t hurt a fly.

Deputy Cadderson, completely physically outmatched by the younger man, stuttered for a moment. say you have to be somewhere by four? asked the lawman.

Yes sir, I have an internship waiting for me in Montgomery. I’m very sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to be disrespectful in any way or violate any laws. I’m just lost.

So, you need some directions?

Yeah, said Jarron, thinking that he’d finally gotten through to the deputy. I just need to get back to I-65.

Deputy Cadderson scanned the tall, tan-skinned man in front of him. He believed him, but he also knew he wanted to teach him a lesson. He looked at his watch. It was a quarter past two. Montgomery was just about an hour from where they stood.

I don’t think there’s any reason to give you a ticket, but you will have to pay a fine, said the deputy. I’ll be glad to let you go with directions.

Jarron started to reach back into his car for his wallet. Deputy Cadderson put his hand on his gun. Realizing his mistake, Jarron stopped dead in his tracks. Sorry sir, I was going for my wallet. I swear. You can grab it if you want. It’s there on the console in the middle of the car.

Deputy Cadderson put his hands back to his side. He smiled at Jarron. It was the first time he had smiled, and Jarron felt a kind of creepy vibe from it. Cadderson was famous for making people feel uncomfortable. No, a monetary fine isn’t what I’m talking about. Here in this county, we believe in sanctions for lawbreaking. Son, here in this county, the judge only comes in on Wednesdays, and you pay your fine with your ASS, said the deputy, emphasis added.

Jarron felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. In the back of his mind the music from Deliverance started to play. Perhaps that was Deputy Cadderson’s intention.

Oh no, sir. No. My ass is not for sale. I’ll just...uh...let me give you some money. I swear there’s $500 in my wallet. You can take it. I won’t say anything, said Jarron.

Nah. I don’t want your money. We got some fine peaches here in this county. That pays the bills. You see, you just can’t come through here and break the rules and get off scot free. You are going to pay with that big round thing you said isn’t for sale. That ass is about to become your ticket out of this county. So, you come over here and bend over my hood. That, or I’d be glad to run you back into the county seat. Like I said, the judge will be here on Wednesday.

It was Monday.

Jarron, knowing this was probably his only way out of the Alabama countryside today, walked to the Sheriff’s cruiser and put his thick upper body on the hood of the car as he was told. He awaited his fate. The hood of the cruiser was hot. Jarron could feel the warmth through his shirt and against his chest. His bubble ass sweated inside his shorts and underwear nervously. For some reason, Jarron could feel his hole twitching, involuntarily.

Deputy Cadderson walked to the trunk of his cruiser and withdrew a thick paddle and took out a pair of latex gloves. He’d used it on some teen misbehavers just last week. Now, he was going to make Jarron’s ass its next victim.

Lower those shorts boy. Let me see that Yankee ass, said Deputy Cadderson from behind the cruiser.

Sir, I really don’t think this is legal, said Jarron, pleading his case as the deputy appoached.

In response, Deputy Cadderson grabbed the waistband of Jarron’s shorts and underwear and yanked them down. His tanned ass was now bare to the world. The deputy was impressed by the definition of the ass. Two big round glutes separated by a deep crack stood ready to be bruised.

Jarron reached back to pull his pants up. Cadderson grabbed Jarron’s wrist and pulled it across the small of his back. Now that’s a Yankee’s ass if I ever saw one. Now, don’t you pull those pants up, boy. Not until I’m done with you, said Cadderson.

The strength of the smaller man’s grip surprised Jarron as his shorts fell from his knees to around his ankles. He was essentially naked from the waist down. His long legs and chiseled quads and hamstrings tapered to two sexy knees and then got progressively bigger with two bulging calf muscles. Jarron’s legs ended at his well-defined achilles tendons and round heels. The arches of his feet were visible in his slides.

Cadderson reached for his handcuffs and cuffed Jarron’s right wrist. Give me the other one, boy.

Jarron complied, and he was now handcuffed and half-naked on the hood of the squad car. He heard a loud thunk of wood on concreate as Cadderson’s paddle fall over, and he looked back to see the deputy struggling with the latex gloves. Finally, he got them on.

What are you doing? asked Jarron.

The deputy smirked, I think you have illegal contraband. I’m going to check you over.

Check me over? Are you serious?

As a heart attack, son. Spread those pretty legs and look straight ahead.

Reluctantly, Jarron did as he was told. When he did, his two plump balls clapped like a bell clapper between his hamstrings. His thick, uncut cock wiggled. He felt the gloved hands on the insides of his thighs and moving up towards his groin. Jarron shuddered as the deputy lifted his testicles and gave them a good squeeze. Instinctively, the young cock began to plump up with his head poking out of the end of his foreskin.

Finding nothing there, the lawman licked his finger and reached down into Jarron’s crack feeling around for his anus. Jarron felt the wet finger going closer and closer from the top of his crack and inching downward to his manhole. He was powerless.

Jarron felt the finger slip over his hole stopping for a moment where his balls met the taint. He was relieved when the finger didn’t penetrate him. The relief was only short lived as a split-second later, the deputy’s index finger parted his anal ring. He was a full knuckle inside.

AHHH! Jarron yelled. There was no one to hear him on this country road in Alabama. The deputy pushed deeper inside feeling for whatever he was feeling for. Of course, he was finding nothing.

For good measure, Cadderson slipped in a second finger. It was a bit of a struggle. Jarron’s ass was pretty tight even though it wasn’t the first time he had been penetrated. He had done it to himself lots of times, but it’s different when it’s someone else’s finger. Only once had another guy had a digit inside Jarron, and that was when he was a junior in high school and was experimenting with a friend. That time was a lot less rough then this.

Satisfied with his search and seizure, Cadderson withdrew his finger as quickly as it had gone in. As he pulled out, Jarron’s ass snapped back shut with an audible slurp. You’re clean, said Cadderson, removing his gloves.

Sensing the awkwardness, Cadderson tried to give his anal search some context. Sorry I had to do that, but we’ve been seeing lots of methheads around here. They hide their pipes in their bungholes.

Jarron looked back towards his ass in time to see Deputy Cadderson pick up his paddle. It was the first time Jarron had seen it. It was so thick. After a couple of air swings that left audible whisps in the air, Cadderson said, with a smile on his face, Steady yourself, boy. This is gonna sting! Ten of these coming.

Before Jarron could think or react, Cadderson had already swung his paddle back and landed his first blow.


The sound echoed through the open fields. Jarron’s balls instinctively pulled up towards the base of his flaccid flopping penis.


The second hit landed across Jarron’s bare ass pushing his cock against the hot fender of the car. Jarron cried out in agony.


A third smack. A third explosion of pain. A loud grunt from Jarron’s lips. GUUUHH!

THWACK! The fourth...

THWACK! The fifth...

THWACK! The sixth...

Jarron was now feeling every hit deep in his soul.

THWACK! A pain now in his belly. His balls had somehow gotten in the way and gotten a glancing blow. Jarron’s knees buckled.

Sorry. Guess I got your manbag, chuckled Cadderson.

AH! AH! YEAH! AHH! OHHH responded Jarron. Cadderson gave him a moment to recover.

You ready? asked Cadderson. You have three more coming. it quick.

If you say so...

Cadderson responded with a three-hit barrage.


On the third hit of the group, Jarron’s ass opened with a small cut on his right ass cheek. The purple color of his ass was a result of the thickness of Cadderson’s paddle. Cadderson unlatched the handcuffs, and Jarron immediately grabbed his ass. His butt was warm to the touch, and he knew the remaining drive to Montgomery would now be no picnic.

Cadderson looked down at his watch. It was 2:25 pm. Better get going, son. You’re gonna be late for your big meeting in Montgomery. Keep going down this road. Take the left at the water tower, and then turn right at the cemetery. That will take you back to the highway.

Thanks? said Jarron, purposefully leaving a question mark at the end of his statement.

Cadderson got into the cruiser and started the engine as Jarron was pulling up his shorts. He pulled up next to Jarron’s car and lowered his window.

Oh yeah, and don’t speed or run stop signs. There’s other deputies in this county that think northerners should be shot on sight. You’re lucky you ran by me. Have a good one.

Lucky? Jarron thought to himself as he watched Cadderson pull away. He sat back down in his driver’s seat. His butt cheeks and hole were throbbing. Slowly, Jarron pulled back on to the road, and he continued his trip to Montgomery with an experience he’d never tell anyone about.

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