The worst ass whopping ever.

Up to the point of my buddies and I having a float trip on that hot July day in 1975 I really didn't know ass whoppin. I was about to be schooled on Coryell county ex state man ass whoopin style. Recall from the float trip story that I slipped the bell off the dog, well it was in my pocket when we got caught. That's right, I was the idiot who had lulubells bell and for that I was gona pay. Grabbed, thrown to the ground, hand cuffed and beaten was standard protocol for the hillbilly deputy's when apprehending dangerous state boy escapees. While spitting gravel out of my mouth this redneck deputy whom I was told was the kitchen was shining his boots on my belly. Hand cuffed with my hands behind my back, yanked up and made to stand against a state truck kitchens racked, hit in the stomach reputedly, until I could no longer stand. Then those red nicks through me in the back of a state truck and hauled us all off to cic, lockup.
Those were the clumsiest red necks, because as they took me from the truck to a security cell they kept banging my head against the floor and kicking my feet out from under me, careful not to leave any burses. That's when I first met Parker, a heavy set patch lees state shirt wearing red neck that loved to beat up on state boys. This ass hole took great pride in hanging boys on the wall and racking them. Everyone got a kick out of me taking kitchens dog bell, literally. You would have thought the dog was his bitch wife. If Gatesville State School for Boys was under a law suite no one bothered to tell the ass wipes in cic.
CIC was in one of the wings of the old reception center. The boys I ran with were already bedded down which told be they took there time getting me to cic. I was in the shower aria attempting to clean myself up when the kitchen wanted to see me. I made the mistake to take stance and several of them rushed me, took me to one of the empty dorms at the back of the reception center, hand cuffed me to a pole and took turns beating me. The next day after I woke up and someone came to check on me I was taken to the infirmary. I tried to complain about the kitchen and was told that none of that happened. That my injury's were sustained from the escape and the resistance I put up. I told my story several times after that and one day a salty old dorm man we called big t said that if the kitchen got a hold of me I wouldn't be telling this story. Then he said the old basturd must be losing his touch.