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A Picture is Worth Five Hundred Words

The Pause That Refreshes
– The Cyclist's Report

Y Lee Coyote

The picture shows a bicycle standing alone in the forest.  Why?  What has happened?  Did a fire-breathing dragon just have had dinner?  Is the cyclist all wrapped up in the python (s)he ran over?  Well, not in this case.  With a somewhat Rashomon-like approach, here is the second of three reports that explain things.

The following story is fiction about an judicial adult strapping.  If this subject is offensive, uninteresting or if you are a minor (i.e., child) please leave now.

This work is copyright by the author and commercial use is prohibited without permission.  Personal/private copies are permitted only if complete including the copyright notice.

The author would appreciate your comments – pro and con, including constructive criticism, and suggestions.  Please take a moment to e-mail.

It was a beautiful day and I had been cycling all morning in the park.  I was glad that I was getting close to the entrance since I had to pee badly.  My thoughts had shifted from the beautiful trees and the lovely wildlife that lived in and about them to the most mundane task of not wetting my pants.  Several times I had thought it would be just one more turn and then a straight run to parking lot with its comfort station and blessed relief.

That, alas, was the wrong thinking for it made me desperate.  The pressure was building and I was ever more conscious of it.  Of course, that made things even worse and I just pulled over to the side and dashed into the trees.  I had just pulled down my shorts when I heard a whistle – loud like a traffic cop's and a shout.

"STOP!  Don't you dare to that."

It was a park ranger.  An angry park ranger.  I was caught, literally, with my pants down.

"Don't you pollute my park by urinating here.  The toilets are only five minutes away." was the loud shout.

When I could not produce any ID I was informed that I had a choice – summary punishment with the strap or arrest and taken before the magistrate in the morning.  I chose the former not wishing to be a guest of the state for the night.

I turned around glad that the ranger's eyes were no longer inspecting my crotch and bent over as ordered.  I heard the wide thick brown leather belt being pulled from the rangers' pants.  "There will be extra if you get up before I tell you to.  I heard the snap of the belt as the ranger straightened the folded weapon.  And then the searing pain as it landed hard on my bare cheeks sending pain through my body.  I yelled.

I yelled for each hard cut and soon my tail was a hot pain center that enveloped my entire being.  Over and over the ranger raised the belt and brought it crashing down on my rump as if it was a hunk of meat to be tenderized.  The pain was so great that I stopped thinking about peeing and concentrated on staying in position.  I certainly did not want any extras.

After an eternity, the strapping stopped.  The ranger made me stay in position for a while before telling to pull up my pants and never think about desecrating his forest again.  I pulled them up wincing as the spandex rubbed my hot butt and rushed away.  I grabbed my bike and ran (as best as I could, to the parking lot and the comfort station.  There was not any way I could sit on the saddle again today.  I walked slowly to the train station with my bike to ride home.

The End

© Copyright A.I.L.  July 12, 2010

sarah nada

This story is a great match for the picture that inspired it, and I really like the idea of telling the same story from several points of view. The cyclist is believable and his nervousness and fear at being caught are very engaging. An interesting take on judicial (if unofficial) spanking.

Dyke Grrl/Jigsaw Analogy

I've been in the position of being desperate for a bathroom, and entirely prepared to stop by the side of the road to use one. So the protagonist absolutely has my sympathies in this case! I'm quite glad that this spank-topian future has not yet come to pass, since I would be hard-pressed to handle it if a park ranger were to give me a strapping merely for heeding the call of nature. Thanks for a fun story! The main character's dilemma was believable, as is the park ranger's fury at someone desecrating the park with "offensive litter".

Kris

Have you never read the rules of playwriting? If you introduce a loaded bladder in Act 1, it has to go off by Act 3. I can't believe that man didn't piss his pants. Especially when he was struck as if his rump "was a hunk of meat to be tenderized." Would it be so easy to forget, bent over (putting more pressure on a full bladder) simply by focusing on not leaping away from that devilish strap? Oh, I think not.

Okay, I'm kind of teasing you.

I have to wonder that the full bladder didn't go off, though.

Overall, a fun read.

Pablo

This version of the triple story suffers a little from being the foundation, as it were, and therefore not quite as quirky or interesting as the others. For the SSC it ought to be judged on its own merits - in which case it's a pleasing but straightforward tale - but it's hard not to at least nod towards the other parts, since the proper effect requires all three. I do question somewhat the author's liking of gender-neutral narrators. It's a neat trick, but can also be quite limiting, since it restricts how much characterisation can be used. The effect is of a main character we know very little about - no backstory, no physical description, and that means we're less likely to engage emotionally with their situation.