“Now, I’ve tried every goddamned thing I can think of to try and keep the peace in this damn county. I did it for years until you came along,” he drawls, making eye contact with you in the rearview mirror before looking away. “I’ve verbally warned you. I’ve arrested you. I’ve had you sit in the drunk tank all night. But every damn time I think you’re gonna do right by me and this county, you blow it.”

“Sheriff, I-” 

Bodecker slams his fist on the dashboard of the cruiser. “I did not ask you a question. You speak when spoken to now, you little shit.”

That shuts you up. When you look dejectedly outside of the windows of the cruiser, you realize you should already be at the station with the amount of time he was driving. You don’t know where you are, and you are with the man that hates you more than your damn Daddy. The farther he drives, you notice fewer lights and street signs and more open and wooded areas.

Dragging your eyes away from the window, you look back to the Sheriff. He gnaws a toothpick so hard that his jaw clenches. You catch more of his face in the reflection of the rearview mirror and think if he didn’t grimace all the damn time, he’d be such a handsome man. The kind that everyone would pay to see on the big screen.

You could hear your Daddy’s voice in your head: ‘Ain’t no son o’mine gonna be no damn pervert. I’d rather die.’ His words didn’t have the intended effect; you just became louder and prouder. But now and again, his words would creep into your subconscious, making you think that every damn thing you did was wrong because you were wrong. A design flaw, a mistake.

Your thoughts on your old man are cut short as you feel the cruiser slowing to a stop. Gravel crunches under the tires. Just as you were going to ask the Sheriff where you are, he opens the driver’s side door and gets out, shutting it behind him. You watch as he walks to the back door and opens it. You try to slink back further into the back seat, but he grabs your ankle. You kick at him with the other foot, but he catches it.

“Listen here, son. You try to kick me again; I’ll break it and tell the doctor you fell. Don’t test me,” Bodecker seethes, pulling you the rest of the way out of the cruiser. 

He grabs you by the elbow and walks you into the woods at the side of the road. Pulling you along behind him, he walks into a clearing that is barely lit by moonlight. He pushes you down to your knees. You somehow catch yourself from falling forward onto your front. Walking around you, Bodecker gets your attention by calling your name. He smiles a toothy grin when you look up at him with fear in your eyes.

“Now, I wasn’t gonna say nothin’, but your old man asked me to keep an eye on you. Said something or other about his son not being interested in chasing skirts. Wanted me to talk with you, but I think I got a better idea,” he remarks, sitting on the tree stump nearby. He waves you over, and you walk on your knees slowly before stopping in front of him. 

When he taps his thigh, you chance asking what he means. “Sheriff?”

He sighs, reaching for you and pulling you to lay over his lap, his strength on display. “Just hush now; the only words I wanna hear outta you are how good you beg. You’re up a creek, son, and the only paddle is my goddamned hand.” 

You’re lost to what you’re in for until a heavy wallop lands across your ass cheek. The force with which Bodecker spanks your ass is so much so that you cry out in pain. He must like the sound of that because he delivers another lash to your other cheek. He groans, and you can feel the bulge hardening in his pants just under your stomach.

You can’t believe it, but Sheriff Bodecker is spanking you like an ornery child. He’s enjoying it, too. While you hate this man, you can’t help but grind your dick into his thigh with every whack he executes. 

One after the other, he tears into you until you’re a sobbing mess. With a dick so hard it could cut diamonds, you give in to begging. “Sheriff, please. I can’t take anymore. I’ll do anything; just please make it stop.”

He pushes you off his lap, and you land on your back with a thud. “I told you, you would eventually start begging,” he breathes, coming down to kneel next to you. 

Before you know what is happening, Bodecker is bent over you as he fumbles thick fingers through unbuttoning and unzipping your pants. Your cock springs free in the cool, night air as your pants are tugged to your ankles. With your hands cuffed under you, you’re unable to have any shred of modesty. 

But it would seem that Bodecker doesn’t mind that at all. It would appear that he likes what he sees, judging by the way he palms himself while you watch him stroke you slowly. 

You throw your head back into the dirt, and he groans after you let out a whimper, so happy to finally be touched where you need it. But not for long. Letting go of your cock, he tuts when you whine at the loss. Lifting your legs, he folds you like a pretzel with your thighs pressing into your stomach.

You know exactly what Bodecker’s intentions are once you hear his belt being unbuckled. But it’s when you hear his zipper that you know you are about to be fucked. And you couldn’t decide whether to be upset or thankful. All you know is that you need him to get to it fast. 

Unable to see past your legs, you hear rather than see him spit into his hand. And you thank him silently for at least trying to make taking his length a bit more bearable. Once you feel the wet tip poking at your puckered opening, you wince and wiggle your ass but stop when a warning slap hits your thigh. 

“Hush, now. Sooner you let me in, sooner this’ll all be over,” he insists, pressing further inside you until he is balls-deep inside you. As if crafted by the gods, Bodecker is not only long but thicker than any guy you’ve been with. He grants you half a minute to get used to his size before he pulls out and thrusts back inside you. 

The strangled cries of ecstasy that leave your mouth echo through the trees; the sounds of flesh against flesh dance on the midsummer night’s breeze. You could never have guessed in a million years that you would end up in this predicament. Hell, you wish you would have thought of this earlier, fucking the Sheriff to keep him off your back. 

“Fuck! You’re so fuckin’ tight. Feels so fuckin’ good. Takin’ me so well, like a good little slut,” he praises, changing his angle and leaning into you. With his hands on the backs of your thighs, he pounds into you and revels in the garbled nonsense that trickles from your mouth. 

Your cock, hard and forgotten, twitches when Bodecker hits your prostate. Your ass clamps down around his cock as you let your orgasm wash over you. Stars explode behind your eyelids as you come untouched. Thick, creamy ropes coat your chest where your shirt rides up and exposes your skin. 

As you come down from your high, Bodecker chases his release. His grip on your thighs loosens, and he groans as he blows his load, painting your insides. As he softens, he slips from your hole. You feel his cum dribbling out of your used asshole as he stands up to straighten his uniform and dust off his slacks.

You lay there, looking up at him until he helps you to stand. He unceremoniously tugs up your pants as you stand on wobbly legs. Grabbing you by the arm, he leads you through the dark woods to where his cruiser is parked. You’re shoved into the backseat, and he takes his time staring you down before closing the car door.

Once seated in the front seat, Bodecker pulls a piece of candy from the glove box. Unwrapping it and putting it in his mouth, he noisily lets the hard candy clack against his teeth as he sucks on it. He all but ignores you as he turns the key in the ignition and pulls back onto the road. 

You sit quietly looking out of the window as the familiar sights of Knockemstiff come back into view. Your ass hurts and leaks on the entire drive while dried cum plasters your shirt to your torso, but you don’t make a fuss. Noticing the Sheriff has turned down the road leading to your house, you’re somewhat relieved for this night to be over. 

He stops in front of your house, shuts off the car, and turns around to face you with his arm thrown over the seat. “Am I gonna see you causing trouble in my county again? Or am I gonna have to take you back out to the woods and…straighten you out?” His piercing blue eyes show no other emotion but annoyance.

“No, sir,” you lie. You have no intention of being a good little soldier for your Daddy, the Sheriff, or anyone else. But a piece of you wouldn’t mind being a good little slut for Bodecker. 

“Good man,” he replies, turning back around and exiting the vehicle. Letting you out of the backseat, he uncuffs you and lets you start up the walkway to your parents’ house. He whistles to get your attention, and you turn around. “You be good, now. I’ll be watching.”

You simply nod, unsure of what to say. Pulling the key from your pocket, you unlock the front door and enter the house. Leaning against the front door after you close it, you hear his cruiser’s engine turn over and exit down the lane. 

The living room light comes on, and your father appears from the hallway in his pajamas and slippers. “Was that the Sheriff?”

“Yeah, Dad. He gave me an earful tonight. I’m exhausted; I just want to sleep,” you babble, stepping away from the door and walking past your father to get to your bedroom.

“Well, I hope you were listening to what he said. Maybe spend less time out there causing all kinds of trouble?” He encourages, crossing his arms.

“I’ll do my best, Dad,” you lie again, just wanting to disappear into your room. “Good night, Dad.”

“Good night, son,” he sighs, letting you off without a lecture.

You collapse on your bed, not bothering to take off your dirty clothes. A fitful sleep awaited you, and you wouldn’t keep it waiting long. That night, you dream of blue eyes following you through the dark, and it does nothing but spur you on to make the next wrong decision.