The Shaman’s Revenge (Part 1)

The
Shaman’s Revenge Part 1




Capsaicin
College was a handsome, if rambling, mid 18
th
Century Colonial Mansion set in extensive grounds, much of which had
been converted into sports fields, running tracks and tennis courts
where pupils were required to undergo strenuous exercise, reflecting
the founder’s belief that the discipline of the young male body was
the door the health, enlightenment and well being of both mind and
body.
The
great house had been converted into an educational establishment for
the sons of Southern Gentlemen in the early 1930’s after the crash
and depression of the 20’s had left its previous owners unable to
maintain its upkeep. As with all old buildings Capsaicin’s ageing
infrastructure remained a challenge for the College administration,
hence the small staff of gardeners, carpenters and handymen were kept
fully employed ensuring it remained in the high standard of repair
which was expected for such a prestigious establishment.
It
was on a sultry late morning in mid July when some members of the
College faculty, including the Deputy principle and the Head Sports
Coach accompanied Will Bryant, the Caretaker as they wondered around
the building inspecting its current state of repair.
On
reaching the side of the building where the old stable block had been
converted into a large modern locker room and showers, the Deputy
Principle, Henry Graves, pointed to a large oblong shape nestling in
the eves. “Those are hornets aren’t they?” he asked “How long
has that nest been there?” 
 
It
must be quite new replied” Will, secretly irritated that his young
assistant, Chase Coulby (the lazy young brat) had not alerted him to
the problem during his preliminary inspection earlier that day. “It
certainly was not there when we carried out maintenance on the roof
over the Spring break”
We
will need to get rid of that quite quickly!” snapped Prof. Graves
Those
brutes can give a nasty sting!”
I
will get young Coulby onto it next week Sir” replied Will
I
can think of a few of our male students who might benefit from a good
sting on the bottom!” chuckled Hector Carruthers, the
septuagenarian music professor. The comment was greeted with a smile
of approval from Thor Amundsen, the ruggedly handsome, head coach
with a twinkle in is pale blue eyes, which slightly unnerved some of
the other faculty members.
Perhaps
so!” replied Prof. Graves, irritably “However, we could do
without the parents suing us!” with that, the group moved on,
leaving their elderly colleague’s prophetic words hanging in the
air.
A
half hour later 18 year Jordan Draper came running across the old
courtyard heading for the locker room. He was dressed in nothing but
a pair of blue speedos and rubber “flip flop” sandals, his
healthy and athletic body and dark brown hair still glistening wet
from the pool, where he had been practising his diving for the
forthcoming tournament with a neighbouring school.
Arrogant,
and pleased with himself, Jordan was the handsomest senior at
Capsaicin. He was good at sports and a popular success with the local
girls, a number of whose hearts he had carelessly broken in the last
year. Who cared if his grades were poor, Sporting success was what
mattered at Capsicin and in Jordan’s mind he was everything he wanted
to be, the top jock on campus, the best looking guy in town, for
Jordan life was good.
Of
course, with the incident with the old man earlier that day
forgotten, Jordan could not know that his lifelong good luck was
about to desert him.
Upon
entering the locker room Jordan sauntered over to the bench where he
had left his sports bag, unzipped it and pulled out a can of soda
from which he took two large swigs, before carelessly tossing the can
down on to the bench beside him, allowing the heavily sugared liquid
to spill onto the painted wooden surface.
The
handsome lad then kicked off his flip flops and stripped off his
speedos, which he slung, still dripping wet into his sports bag.
Despite being now completely naked, on such a hot and humid day, the
locker room was uncomfortably stuffy, so Jordan stood on the bench
and opened one of the skylight windows hoping to let some air in,
whilst blissfully unaware that he would be allowing more than just
air into the room.
Picking
up his towel, he strode, bare foot and butt naked towards the showers
in the next door room, his hairless, tan-line white, bottom bouncing
from side to side, as if it’s pert firmness expressed the casual
arrogance of Jordan’s proud and care-free attitude. 
 
Throwing
his towel onto the shiny paved floor, and stepping into the shower,
the hottest jock on the swimming team turned on the shower and stood
there in all his late teenage glory, enjoying the sensation of the
warm, yet refreshing water pouring over his perfectly formed
athlete’s body.
As
the hot water cascaded down over the smooth pearl white globes of his
perfect bottom, Jordan’s thoughts were on the hot date he had planned
for that evening, with one of the hottest chicks that the campus had
to offer. Little did the handsome swimmer know that far from
indulging in the pleasures of a hot date, he would be spending the
evening nursing a very sore bottom.

__________________________________


On
another part of the campus twenty-year-old Chase Coulby was heavily
occupied in matters which had little to do with the job he was paid
to do. Idly pretending to paint the fence near the lacrosse court,
his deep hazel green eyes were actually focused on the figures
running back and forth across the court.
Although
historically a male only college Capsaicin had bowed to the
orthodoxies of the age, and two years previously had opened its doors
to a small number of female students. It was upon a group of these
young ladies, members of the girl’s lacrosse team, that Chase’s
lascivious eyes were feasting.
Chase
was a good looking lad, who, not unlike Jordan Draper, had no
difficulty in getting girlfriends. However, like most young men, one
girl was never enough, and the local girls were not as enticing as
the rich men’s daughters at Capsaicin. The Caretaker’s young
assistant took secret pleasure in spying on scantily clad females
playing sports. And when he wanted to see more, which he usually did,
his job at the College provided him with a number of opportunities to
do so.
Chase
grinned to himself, the lacrosse game would end soon, and then the
young ladies would be heading for their locker room, and when they
did, he would follow them there!!
Back
in men’s locker room, two new figures had just crept into the room.
Glancing quickly around to ensure that there was nobody else there,
the new arrivals, being more occupied with each other, failed to hear
the sound of running water coming from the showers next door.
Turning
face to face, Rubin Dorbny and Martin Clifford, gazed to each other’s
eyes. Only days ago the two students had discovered that the crush
which each had felt for the other since joining the school was in
fact mutual. Since then, neither had thought of anything else but
snatching opportunities to be alone together.
We
have just over an hour until physics” whispered Dorbney “I wish
it could be longer”
The
words had hardly left his mouth when he was silenced by the force of
Martin Clifford’s hungry lips pressing against his. Within seconds
the two were entwined tightly in each other’s arms, oblivious to all
else, including the handsome, but very straight, swimmer, showering
in the next room.
The
two young lovers were not the only sentient beings to enter the room.
When Jordan Draper had opened the skylight window, he had
inadvertently granted access to two large male hornets. The two
brightly striped insects hovered above the window sill as if they
still expected the transparent glass, which had previously obstructed
them, to still be there. Then, as their acute sense of smell detected
the spilt soda, they flew into the room buzzing noisily as they did
so. Quickly zoning in on the source of the sweet odour, the yellow
jacketed creatures landed on the bench and began sucking up the soda
which Jordan Draper had spit minutes earlier.
The
first two hornets were soon joined by a third, which had also flown
in through the window which Jordan had conveniently opened.
The
two humans meanwhile were too occupied with the excitement of their
intimate embrace to notice the buzzing hornets, as their groping
hands explored each other’s young bodies and their anxious manhoods
began to swell in their pants.
Within
moments, their pants, followed by the rest of their clothing was on
the floor at their now naked feet.
Unfortunately
for Dorbney and Clifford, it was not just stinging insects which had
gone unnoticed, they were also too engrossed in their newly
discovered passion to sense the freshly showered Jordan Draper
re-entering the room.
Jordan
stopped still in amazement, initially unable to comprehend what he
was seeing. In that far less liberated age, where the word “gay”
had only recently begun its transition to its current usage, and
homosexuality was still illegal in some states, including this one,
Jordan had all the prejudices of his era. This, together with all the
instincts of a born bully, meant he was one of the least sympathetic
of people to walk in on two males involved in an illicit sexual
encounter.
You
pair of queer FAGGOTS!

sneered Jordan. As the two boys sprung apart as if an electric shock
had run through then, and spun round in horror at the realisation
they had been discovered.
Jordan
dropped his towel, and strode stark naked across the room before
standing menacingly in front of the two younger boys. “Sick
perverts!” he snarled “You should be locked up!” his handsome
lips curled into an incongruously ugly expression “Just wait until
I tell the whole school what you were doing!!”
P..
please Draper … please don’t!” stammered Rubin Dorbney, the
potential consequences of disclosure, which at the time were
significant, dawning on him in cold terror.
Please
don’t tell!” echoed Martin, the hopelessness of the appeal clear to
him as the words left his lips. Both the boys knew Jordan Draper
well, having both been the victims of his brutality in the past, and
knew he would take great pleasure both in exposing them, and taking a
leading role in their torment.
Jordan
lunged forward, grabbing Rubin by the throat, and pushing him against
the wall. “Try and stop me!” He yelled.
Although
he did not shine in academic pursuits, Jordan had a natural slyness,
and it quickly occurred to him that he could use this discovery to
his advantage. “What is it worth for to you for me to stay quiet?”
he asked, his voice dripping with malevolence. “If you queers don’t
want me to tell the whole school what you were ….doing..” he
grimaced in exaggerated disgust “then you are going to have to pay
for my silence”
Jordan’s
unhappy victims could tell how serious he was, and knew they would
have to do as he asked, or he would make good as his threat. “I
have $40 in my dorm room” stammered Martin, “I will give you
that!”
Forty
bucks?!!” sneered Jordan “You had better get more than that!”
I
get my allowance next week!” whispered Rubin, his voice quaking
with misery “It’s $400 to last the rest of the term … you can
half of that!”
Half?!
scoffed Jordan “You had better give me the lot, or everyone will
find out that you and your butt boy there are a pair of stinking
fags!”
The
two boys looked at each other, both knew they would have to agree to
their handsome oppressor’s demands, the attitudes and, legal system
within the state at the time, meant that failure to submit would
shame their families and could even ruin their lives.
Okay
Draper!” muttered Rubin “You can have it all”
Jordan
turned to Martin and raised his fist in front of his face “What
about you?” he growled “When is your allowance due from Mommy and
Daddy?”
I
have spent most of it!” replied Martin, the $40 is all I have left.
Well
write to Mommy and Daddy and ask you more, okay?” glowered Jordan.
….okay…!”
whispered Martin in defeat.
A
satisfied grin spread across Jordan Draper’s handsome but cruel face.
“Okay, I will stay quiet … for now … but you had better pay me
the cash, or you both know what will happen!” He turned and walked
towards the bench.
As
the two lads watched the handsome and naked jock walk away from them,
his perfect bare bottom, fully exposed. The sight of Jordan’s naked
behind at any other time would have thrilled them, but now they had
other things on their mind Both knew that Jordan’s silence would
last only until he was paid. In their despair they both looked down
and simultaneously noticed the black and yellow striped hornets,
still feeding on the spilt soda. In stunned, wide eyed, fascination
they watched while, as if in slow motion, Jordan turned, looked back
at them, a smirk of arrogant triumph on his face, and began to lower
his bare bottom towards the bench and towards the three feeding and
sting loaded insects still on it.
At
first Rubin did not understand the implications of what he was
seeing. However, Marin immediately realised what might be about to
happen and a thrill of excitement and anticipation pulsed through his
young body.
Jordan
had a bottom that damp and rousing wet dreams were made of, like two
magnificent globes, well formed through regular exercise yet still
tender and sensitive, white as snow and framed between the golden tan
lines of his back and thighs, they were a delight to behold, and
together with his handsome face, one of his most strikingly
attractive features.
The
hornets however saw no beauty in Jordan’s descending backside, only a
large and looming threat which was about to crush them. Their only
instinct was to attack. With loud, angry, buzzes they flew at the
approaching cheeks, and the instant before their sudden demise,
squashed between the hard wooden bench and the pearly whiteness of
Jordan’s rump, they sunk their stingers into the tender flesh in the
lower part of each cheek, expelling a sudden shot of toxic, agony
inducing venom, into the unfortunate jock.
The
third hornet, even more aggressive and adventurous than it’s
compatriots darted between the spreading cheeks to deliver it’s
agonizing payload into the rosebud-like pucker of the young straight
boy’s most tender and unexplored orifice.
As
if shocked by a high voltage power line, Jordan let out a high
pitched, and almost inhuman, scream of anguish as he jumped to his
feet clutching his doubly stung bottom. Prof Graves had not been
wrong when he said that the hornets could give a “nasty sting”
and Jordan had never experienced a level of pain which approached
that which was surging through his bare bubble like bottom, like
three searing hot needles.
The
unfortunate young athlete had been simultaneously stung on both
cheeks of his flawless white bottom by insects renowned for the
potency of their sting, which could cause extreme levels of
discomfort sometimes lasting for days. To make matters worse, and
potentially more embarrassing, the third sting had been planted in
that most sensitive, tender and forbidden location which no living
creature had ever explored before.
Martin
and Rubin watched on wide eyed amazement as their strikingly handsome
tormentor, still as naked as a baby, jumped from foot too foot,
rubbing his bare behind, yelling and howling in pain as his well
proportioned cock bounced up and down.
Ever
the soft hearted one, Rubin almost felt a degree of sympathy for
Jordan, before he reminded himself that the very guy he was feeling
sorry for had, moments earlier, been intent on destroying his and his
new young lover’s lives.
Martin’s
reaction was somewhat more complicated, he was aware of a tingling
sense of delight at what he was watching, which was not entirely due
to a perception of revenge for Jordan’s threats and extortion. When
he would later analyse the pleasure he felt he would realise that it
was the enjoyment of watching a good looking stud getting his
comeuppance in such a painful and potentially humiliating way. This
was a realisation which would come to change his life.
You
sat on a wasp Draper!” said Martin, struggling only half
successfully to hide the note of sarcasm from his voice “Did it
sting you on the as …er the bottom?”
Jordan
glanced back at the bench and saw the dead hornets “They’re God
damn hornets! and there were two of the fuckers!” he yelled, “and
they both fucking stung me!!” he continued to rub is well stung
behind, whilst jumping upside down, his eyes shut tight in pain.
Despite the pain his remaining pride prevented him from admitting to
the third sting, and where it had been delivered.
That
must really hurt…” started Martin before the hilarity of the
situation got the better of him and a loud burst of mocking laughter
echoed round the room.
Jordan
swung round, a look of beast like fury on his face. “
ARE
YOU LAUGHING AT ME?!!

he shouted.
No
..no Draper!!” stuttered Rubin realising the extreme danger Martin
was now in “it was a cough … he coughed!! … honest!!”
HE
LAUGHED

…. don’t shit me Jew Boy! Jordan looked at Martin his eyes
smouldering with anger “
YOU
LAUGHED AT ME DIDN’T YOU, YOU LITTLE WORM?!

The humiliation of what had just happened began to dawn on Jordan,
that stung him almost as painfully as the hornet, and typically of a
bully, it also made him very angry.
It
took his lithe athletic body no more than a second to spring across
the room and to grab young Martin Clifford tightly by the throat.
“YOU LAUGHED AT ME!!! … YOU THINK IT WAS FUNNY THAT I GOT STUNG
ON THE BUTT, DO YOU?!” he snarled “I’LL TEACH YOU AND YOUR FAGGY
BOYFRIEMD NOT TO LAUGH AT ME!!”
No
Draper, please, he didn’t laugh!” lied Rubin coming to the aid of
his lover “he coughed!!”
DON’T
LIE FAG!!” yelled Jordan, aiming a blow at Rubin. The punch
collided heavily with the lower side of Rubin’s face, splitting his
lip and knocking him to the floor.
Jordan
turned his attention back to Martin “I’ll teach you not to laugh at
me you ……!!” he hissed.
Martin
looked defiantly back at the handsome, naked and very angry Jock and
grinned “Whatever you do to me Draper, it won’t change the fact
that you got your bare ass stung by a hornet, and two ‘fags’ saw it
happen, you are angry because you are embarrassed!! …. and I
laughed because it was funny! …. VERY FUNNY!”
WHAT
DID YOU SAY?!” Screamed Jordan, the truth of Martin’s statement
spurring him to even more fury “YOU ARE DEAD YOU FUCKING QUEER!!
Jordan’s punch bloodied Martin’s nose and knocked his head back
against the wall, yet the smaller student retained his air of
defiance, despite his attacker’s greater strength and athleticism.
Jordan
was unaccustomed to such defiance on the part of his victims, and, as
such, it served to infuriate him even more. He flung himself onto the
smaller boy, and within moments they were wrestling on the floor.
It
did not take Jordan long to overpower Martin, and he soon had him
pinned to the floor “You are DEAD queer!” he literally spat with
fury as he raised his clenched fist, preparing to inflict a further
blow to Martin’s face.
WHAT
ON EARTH ARE YOU DOING DRAPER??!!”

An
outraged voice rang round the locker room. Jordan instantly released
Martin, jumped to his feet and spun round to see the imposing and
muscular figure of Mr.Amundsen, the College’s head coach.
Jordan
stared at the older man, one of the few authority figures he had good
reason to be afraid of, and felt suddenly very aware of his
nakedness. “I..I …. they .. they … uh …I..!” he stammered.
You
what? …they what?” stormed Mr. Amundsen, as he hastened across
the room and assisted Rubin Daubny to his feet? “You are bleeding
boy!” Cried the coach “Did Draper do this to you?” 
 
Before
Rubin could answer, Martin spoke for him “Yes, Sir, he did, Draper
punched him, and he did this to me!” he pointed at his own bloody
nose.
Mr.
Amundsen turned to the naked Jock, who had quickly released his grip
of Martin. “Draper, I have told you before what would happen if I
caught you bullying other students!!” barked the coach 

Jordan’s
jaw dropped wide open in stunned horror, the trobbing stings in his bottom suddenly hurt even more as the coach’s earlier
threat “
I
shall put you over my knee and spank your behind until you can’t sit
down for a week Draper!

echoed through his mind.
At
the time he had ignore the words as an empty threat from an odd
foreigner, but the coach’s unnerving expression showed he was very
serious. “B..but Sir, they laughed at me …Sir!” cried the now
quite nervous young swimmer.
They
what?” demanded the incredulous Mr. Amundsen “You punched them
for laughing?”
…they
are dirty fags Sir …. sick fucking queers!” blurted Jordan, who
for a moment genuinely believed this explosive information would
defend his behaviour.
Within
an instant the strong Scandinavian coach had grabbed hold of Jordan’s
ear gripping it tightly and painfully between his thumb and
forefinger. “HOW DARE YOU USE SUCH FILTHY LANGUAGE TO ME!! he
yelled, pulling Jodan’s head towards him so that it was inches from
his face. “YOU ARE BADLY IN NEED OF THE LESSON YOU HAVE BEEN ASKING
FOR!!”
Jordon’s
eyes were wide with horror. “No Coach…PLEASE … not ..’gulp’
THAT!”
Yes..
‘THAT’” snapped Coach Amundsen “The only way to deal with foul
mouthed bullies like you is to apply a good, hard, bare bottom
spanking to him … and repeat it frequently!”
B…but..
It’s not legal!!” stammered Jordan
Where
do you think you are Jordan?” replied the coach, this isn’t
Massachusetts, in this state, we believe in a good, old fashioned
education!”
With
that he marched across to room pulling the naked and protesting jock
after him.
Martin
Clifford stood frozen to the spot, adrenaline pumping in his head as
the thrill of anticipation swelled within him. He couldn’t quite
believe what he was about to observe, he was going to watch handsome
Jordan Draper get spanked and had never before felt so excited in all
his life.
Coach
Amundsen brusquely pushed Jordan’s sports bag aside, and sat down on
the bench before, with one firm and well-practised motion, pulling
the naked young athlete face down over his knee.
The
two observers, Rubin and Martin, both gasped in amazement at what
they were watching. Their handsome tormentor of moments before, was
now held firmly across the Coach’s lap, his bare, perfectly formed
and still white bottom on full display, and, seemingly about to be
spanked in front of them.
Jordan
was so stunned that, for a brief moment, he almost forgot about the
throbbing pain from the hornet stings in his bottom. This could not
be happening to him, the acknowledged top jock on campus, was he
really about to be spanked, bare assed in front of two homosexuals?.
He was suddenly very conscious of his nakedne
ss and the vulnerability
of his position.
You
can’t do this to me coach!” he stammered, struggling to retain his
usual nonchalant manner “not in front of those two fa…. ”
SMACK!
Coach Amundson’s large and leather like palm landed with stinging
force across the centre of Jordan’s tender, hornet stung bottom,
causing the young athlete to cry out in pain. “I told you not to
use bad language Draper!” snapped the Coach “How dare you defy
me!”
With
that, he began spanking Jordan’s bare bottom with all the awesome
force that such a fit and powerful sportsman could muster.
If
Jordan’s humiliation had caused him to briefly forget the hornet
stings in his targeted tail, they were immediately brought back into
sharp focus, as every second or third stinging slap from the coaches
leather like palm landed right on one or other of them, sending spear
like jolts of piercing agony shooting into his punished bottom.
AAAGHHH!!…NO!
…SIR! … PLEASE!..I’VE BEEN STUNG!!… I’VE BEEN STUNG ON THE
BUTT!!

The
coach stopped for a moment “What are you talking about boy?!”
The
hornets, Coach” interjected Rubin pointing at the crushed and dead
insects “They stung Draper”
Stung
him on the bottom!” murmured Martin, trying hard not to grin. “He
sat on them Coach, and they stung his ……. bare bottom! ….. that
must have hurt I guess!”
The
mother fuckers stung my ass Coach!” Confirmed Jordan and then
immediately yelled in pain as Coach Amundsen delivered a hard slap to
his backside.
I
told you not to swear boy!” snapped the Coach.
He
raised a quizzical eyebrow as he studied young Draper’s upturned
behind. Now he knew they were there, the hornet stings were
immediately visible as small, slightly raised, and shiny pink mounds
surrounded by a reddening circle. One sting was at the very bottom of
the right buttock cheek just above the top off Drapers smooth and
golden tanned thigh. The second was on the left cheek, nestling
almost on the edge of the sloping divide between the hairless, and
quite magnificent globes.
The
third, more intimate sting remained hidden from view in the tight
crevasse between the cheeks.
Having,
himself, been stung by a wasp in the past the Coach was sure the
angry looking lumps must be very sore, and likely to remain so for
some time. A sudden pang of sympathy tempted him to excuse the young
jock his well-earned punishment, and he might have done so, had the
arrogant young swimmer not immediately ruined his own chances of
escape.
But
it fucking hurts coach!” yelled Jordan, the expletive so familiar
to his vocabulary that it blurted out before he realised it had done
so.
Well!
It is going to hurt a whole lot more!” growled a now furious Coach
Amundsen, any vestige of compassion extinguished by one word
evidencing the handsome young athlete’s wilful disobedience. “As I
promised, you will not feel inclined to sit down any time soon!”
It
was then that Jordan Draper’s spanking became serious, fuelled by
anger at the young man’s impertinent disobedience, Coach Amundsen did
not hold back and was soon demonstrating the skills of the formidable
disciplinarian he was. An all-round sportsman, the coach had been a
decathlon champion in his youth and his body was still honed and
supple from rigorous daily exercise. His hands were hard and
calloused from the rock climbing which occupied much of his
vacations, and his arms, the legacy of years of squash, tennis,
rowing and multiple press ups were powerful and muscular.
Irrespective
of the fiery hornet stings. Jordan could hardly have encountered
worse bad luck, after being stung, than to be spanked by an angry
Thor Amundsen.
Adding
incomparably to the raging torment of his bare behind, was the
smarting sting of knowing that his bare bottomed humiliation was
being observed by two little …….!! He cringed inwardly, knowing
with absolute certainty that both boys would spread word of what they
had witnessed far and wide throughout the college.
As
the handsomest and most popular jock in the College, the ignominy of
being publicly spanked was unbearable, yet he had no option but to
endure the shame together with the vigorous battering his bottom was
receiving from the coach’s mighty and relentless palm. This was
turning out to be the worst thing which had ever happened to Jordan
Draper. ….. so far!
As
Jordan was painfully aware, two fascinated onlookers were observing
the somewhat surreal events unfolding before them. Rubin Dorbney
could only stare in wide eyed and stunned amazement, still unable to
fully believe what he was seeing. As for Martin Clifford however, his
reaction was significantly more intricate.
Pulse
after pulse of thrilled anticipation surged through his body, and
there was an increasingly pleasurable stirring in his groin. He had
been aware for some while that he gained voyeuristic pleasure from
visual stimulus, and had struggled to avert his eyes while changing
before and after sports, but he had only discovered how explosively
that pleasure increased when the subject he was watching was as
handsome as Jordan Draper and experiencing simultaneous discomfort
and humiliation.
Martin
had been aware of Jordan Draper since he first arrived at Capsaicin
College. A strikingly handsome youth with a triple “A+” body,
Jordan had featured in quite a few furtive fantasies, but these were
trivial compared to the reality he was watching. On many occasions he
had observed the enticing shape of Jordan’s bottom, either covered in
college uniform gray slacks, or encased in the tight skimpy Speedos
worn by the swimming team, many times he had imagined how it would
look naked. It had been a delightful revelation earlier, even when
Draper had been bullying and blackmailing him, to see that the
reality was even better than he had dreamed, two small firm globes,
strikingly white in contrast to the swimmers otherwise tanned and
golden body, it combined the muscularity of the young athlete but
with the tender looking vulnerability of Jordan’s perfect, blemish
free and hairless, skin.
Blemish
free”! Would, perhaps, no longer be an accurate description of
Jordan’s incredible rump, which, although still perfectly shaped, had
now developed a bright pink hue, which was turning increasingly
redder by the second. This, to Martin’s fast developing eye made it
all the more enchanting. He could only begin to guess how sore
Jordan’s lovely bottom must be, he had seen the hornets and heard
Jordan’s anguished reaction to their stingers, he could now see how
hard Coach Amundsen was spanking it, so it was clearly very, very
sore.
This
certainty was all the more exciting for Martin as was, for reasons he
could not yet fully understand, knowing just how embarrassing and
humiliating this experience would be for a proud, conceited and
arrogant guy as Jordan Draper. Martin grinned to himself “The
jerk’s ego must be stinging almost as much as his butt” he thought
“ .. well, almost!!”
Now
well into his stride, Coach Amundsen, was now devoting significant
effort into to punishing his 18-year-old captive’s bottom which was
already stinging worse than anything Jordan could recall
experiencing. Even the fire ants which had stung him while camping
with his scout group many years ago, until then, the worst pain he
had ever experienced, did not come close to this.
Poor
Jordan, he was receiving the bare bottom spanking he had long
deserved and it was a more complete punishment than even his worst
enemy would have wished on him. Even the automatic impulse reaction
of clenching his buttocks merely added to his discomfort, on account
of the inconveniently located hornet sting between them.
That
aside, he could no longer individually sense the pain from the hornet
stings, that pain had now merged with the escalating burning pain,
which had now spread to all parts of his bottom, and to the tops of
his thighs, an especially sensitive zone which the ever thorough
Scandinavian disciplinarian had deliberately not ignored.
Jordan
Draper had the dual misfortune of having a particularly sensitive
bottom, combined with the low pain threshold which is so often a
trait of bullies. These, characteristics, added to his unusually
inflated sense of personal ego, served to exaggerate the trauma of
his ordeal, well beyond that which another lad in his position might
experience (if another lad had been quite so unlucky) 
 
Although
Martin’s eyes were mostly fixed on Jordan’s increasingly reddening
bottom, at one point the handsome swimmer briefly kicked his legs in
the air drawing Martin’s gaze to two objects on the floor, Jordan’s
rubber flip-flops and a thrilling thought shot through his mind. He
stepped forward and picked up one of the rubber shoes.
Excuse
me Coach” he said politely “You could make your palm quite sore,
doing that….. would this help?!” he held out his hand holding the
flip-flop towards the Coach.
The
Coach stopped spanking for a moment and looked thoughtfully at the
object which the boy was offering him. He then took the flip-flop
from Martin’s hand, and smacked it against the palm of his hand,
noting with approval the stinging sensation and loud “WHACK!” of
pliable India Rubber against flesh.
Excellent!”
he said “Thank you Clifford … very considerate of you Boy!”
Jordan
looked back over his shoulder and saw the flip-flop in Coach
Amundsen’s hand, he also say the looked of feigned innocence in
Martin’s young face. For a moment the burning hatred he now felt for
Martin almost took his mind off the burning sting in his bottom.
Albeit the defining word in that sentence was “almost” and the
distraction was extremely brief.
Within
moments the room rang to the rifle crack like whacks of the rubber
flip-flop infracting sharply with the unhappy Jordan’s bottom.
Although
Coach Amundsen’s leathery palm had been a formidable spanking weapon,
the whippy rubber flip-flop was even worse, and the pain in Jordan’s
rump was now quite unbearable.
Suddenly
he felt tears welling in his eyes, and an uncontrolled sob raising in
his throat, and realised in horror that he was about to cry. Whatever
else happened, he could not allow that, he could not be seen publicly
bawling over a spanking, like some little kid.
Attempting
to hide the oncoming tears Jordan reverted to street thug mode by
swearing, cursing and, at one point threatening the coach with the
police if he did not stop However, given the powerlessness of his
situation and the audible tremble in his voice, the threats and
cusses just sounded comical and would have caused Martin to bust out
laughing, had he not controlled himself just in time.
One
person who was certainly not amused was Coach Amundsen, Jordan’s
unwise behaviour simply served to infuriate him further, so that he
increased the power of his smacks even more, and actually made sure
that on good number of occasions the rubber sole of his new weapon
landed squarely where the hornets had left their fiery stings.
Try
as he might, the tears kept coming and the sob kept raising towards
Jordan’s mouth, until neither could still be held back. The tears
began to flow freely down his flushed pink cheeks and the sob
exploded from between his lips, loud enough, he was sure, to be heard
by the two lads still watching his shame.
Soon
all defiance was gone, and he began sobbing and wailing in
uncontrolled misery all thought lost in the world of pain radiating
from his well punished bottom, which, whilst still beautifully
shaped, now glowed with a hot and rosy shade of red.
The
sound of Jordan’s sobs, whilst further exciting Martin Clifford,
finally eased the Coach’s anger to the point where he finally stopped
spanking Jordan. Unaware of the young swimmers earlier threats, and
attempts to extort money from the other two lads, Amundsen’s more
sympathetic side took over. If the boy was crying, he had seemingly
have been punished enough for the crime of using forbidden profanity.
Get
up boy!” he snapped giving Jordan a shove which almost sent him
tumbling to the floor.
Jordan,
struggled to his feet and stood there, deeply aware of his newly
shameful nakedness, his hands clasped over his groin, but unable to
hide is bright red, just spanked, bottom which was, in fact, the
primary object of Martin and Rubin’s attention. Jordan stared at the
floor, his tear stained, but still dashingly handsome face now
glowing almost as brightly as his bottom.
The
Coach stood up and faced Jordon, “I hope you have learnt your
lesson boy!” he said sternly “However, if I hear you swearing
like that ever again…. or spreading malicious rumours about these
boys … I will treat your little bare bottom like a squash ball! ….
do you understand me?”
y…yes
..yes Coach” murmured the deeply wretched Jordan.
He
glanced up briefly, and in doing so, caught sight, from the corner of
his eye, of the broad grin of pleasure and satisfaction on Martin
Clifford’s face. His misery instantly turned to, barely controlled,
fury. Had Coach Amundsen not been in the room, there is no doubt that
face would right then be being rammed repeatedly into the concrete
floor of the locker room.
It
was at that moment that Jordan Draper’s, ill fated, determination to
get his revenge took root.
It
was the middle of the night and Jordan Draper could not sleep.
Although the events in the locker had happened almost 14 hours
earlier, his bottom still stung so badly that he could only achieve a
degree of comfort by lying in his stomach. Even then the burning
sensation was hard to endure, and even the soothing cream which he
had liberally, if gingerly, rubbed into it, had minimal effect.
The
spanking from Coach Amundsen had been hard and thorough, leaving a
long lasting impact on Jordan’s tender booty, however, even when that
eventually began to fade, the three hornet’s dying bequests, still
throbbed painfully, and, as he was to discover, would continue to do
so for most of the weekend.
The
day had not improved after he had finally escaped the locker room. A
90 minute English test had to be undertaken whilst sitting down on
his punished bottom, resulting, perhaps predictably, in Jordan
achieving an even lower score than even he would usually expect.
Like
most local students at Capsaicin, Jordan still lived at home with his
family, rather than in one the college dorms or Fraternity Houses.
Although usually an indulgent parent, his father insisted that the
family all sit down for dinner each evening, so his son had to endure
a two course family dinner whilst doing what he least wanted to do
that evening, sitting down.
To
add the cherry, or more accurately to poison the cherry on top of a
horrible day Jordan had to turn down Lucy-Mae McCormick, who had
phoned to suggest a drive to the lake. Despite this strongly implied
offer of sex, Jordan could not risk failure to perform, or worse
still, Lucy-Mae catching sight of his obviously spanked bottom. He
could tell she was offended to be rejected, and he doubted that she
would repeat the offer.
Hence,
his mood had only deteriorated from an, already low, point, and was
by now thunderous with a rage which could only be slated by achieving
revenge.
A
natural coward, Jordan would not dare extract revenge on someone as
hard handed as Coach Amundsen, so he focused on the two young gay men
who had witnessed his shaming.
Unaware
that due to Rubin’s reluctant sympathy and Martin’s ambivalence about
his own reaction to what he had observed, neither had spoken of what
had occurred in the locker room, Jordan was convinced that the two
would spend the weekend telling everyone what they had seen. Soon his
dislike of the lovers had developed into a passionate hatred.
He
was resolved to get his own back on the two boys, it only remained to
determine how. His plotting, fuelled by the continuing sting in his
tail, would fully occupy him over the following weekend, but it was
not until the middle of Sunday afternoon that an idea began to form.
Coach
Amundsen was sitting at the desk in his office. He was alone in the
empty building, as, having a busy week ahead, the dedicated teacher
had come in on Sunday evening to complete some preparation.
From
time to time over the weekend, his earlier punishment of Jordan
Draper had crossed his mind, he wondered if he had been too hard on
the lad, and punished him too severely. It was after all no longer
the 1960’s, and salty language was more common than when he had been
Draper’s age, almost twenty years before.
However,
it had not just been Draper’s language which had angered him, he
guessed that Draper had been bullying the two younger boys, and he
suspected he knew why. Coach Amundsen’s Scandinavian background had
made him more liberally minded towards homosexuality than most in the
Southern States of America at that time, and would not tolerate
unkind treatment of vulnerable students on his watch.


From
Asmundsen’s desk, he had an unobstructed view down the corridor to
the college administrative offices at the other end. Squinting into
the gloom he made out a figure moving with apparent stealth. Making
this even more suspicious was the fact that the figure was wearing a
hooded winter jacket, despite the warm summer evening.
The
person, who appeared to be male and carrying a rucksack, crossed the
corridor to the door of the college bursar’s office, where he stopped
and took something from the pocket of his jacket, which he proceeded
to force into the lock. After manipulating this for a few moments,
the door opened and the figure entered the room. 
 
It
was clear that, whoever this was, was up to no good. Assuming he had
spotted a burglar committing a crime, Amundsen leapt silently from
his chair. And crept up the corridor towards the door through which
the intruder had just entered.
Peering
through the crack in the door, Amondsen could see the intruder, who,
even in the half light of the mid-Summer dusk, was instantly
recognisable. As the Coach watched the youth, who was standing by the
Bursar’s desk, forced open a drawer and took out an object. He then
moved quietly to a glass fronted cabinet, from which he took another
object and then turned back towards the door.
Having
identified the prowler, the Coach was now interested to find out what
he would do next, so, instead of confronting the person, he slipped
into the deputy principle’s office and hid himself behind the door.
He watched as the young man left the bursar’s office and turn back
down the hall. Then, once he was confident he could do so without
being seen, the Coach stepped quietly into the corridor and followed
the still furtive figure.
-/-
Twenty
minutes later, Coach Amundsen returned to his office, a thoughtful
expression on his face. He approached his desk picked up the
telephone, dialled a number and waited for it to be answered.
Dr
Shultz? It’s Thor Amundsen .. the Head Coach here.” he said “Good
evening. … I am sorry to bother you on a Sunday, but I wonder if
you would do me a favour.” he paused allowing the Doctor to agree
“You have one of the swimming team, … Jordan Draper due to have
his quarterly medical tomorrow morning …. yes that’s him …. I
think he would benefit from a nice dose of vitamins … yes that’s
right …. your special preparation. I think a double dose would
appropriate this time, one shot in each cheek! … thanks … I knew
I could depend on you.” he was about to put down the phone before
he added “Oh and Doc ….. please use your biggest needles, and
make sure he feels them, both!”
Thor
Amundsen then sat back in his chair and placed his hands behind his
head, as a grin began to slowly spread across his face. From what he
had just observed, he now knew that he had not been too hard on
Jordan Draper …. in fact he had been far too lenient. However, that
was about to change.
Jordan
Draper was about to get a lot more of what he really deserved. The
Shaman’s revenge had only just begun ……..
________________
TO
BE CONTINUED ……….

Comments and Feedback

I
hope to post the further chapters of the new series “The Shaman’s
Revenge” over the folloing weeks. Handsome young
Jordan is in for an uncomfortable time, as he deserves to, you can be
sure of that!!
However, going forward, I would like to make a request for some feedback and comments.
I
am very grateful to those visitors who do already leave comments.
Thank you so much, Your views, suggestions and thoughts really do
motivate me when I am trying to create images and stories.
Also, as you will have noted,
with this story I am planning to create more descriptive erotic
writing and would love to know what you think.
I
know that hundreds of people visit this site every day and there are
thousands of page views, so I know that some people enjoy what is
posted here.
It
would be great to hear from you, and I hope more of you will leave
comments from time to time, telling me what you think and what you
would like to see.
Thanks
_______________________
  

The Shaman’s Revenge – Prologue

 The
Shaman’s Revenge – Prologue
It
was a Friday morning in mid July 1980, and shaping up to be another
baking hot day, as Goran Dragic shuffled painfully down the street,
carrying a heavy paper bag. 
The old man was finding it increasingly
more difficult to get to the local store, and it was even more
difficult on his way home, as now, carrying his purchases. Since his
recent illness, his aching body had begun to feel every one of his 82
years. He felt tired, and in need of some peace and quiet.
Unfortunately for old Goran, peace and quiet were hard to come by in
the fast paced American city where he now lived, an environment so
different from the Southern Carpathian mountains of his old homeland.
As
he trudged on, his mind wondered back to the land of his youth, a
land, which, at that time, was still behind what was then known as
the ‘Iron Curtain’, where the legends and beliefs from an older time
were only whispered about in secret. Goran, himself, had been the
subject of many whispers at one time, for he was said to have
inherited powers, known as the “Magija”, from the warlocks
and Shamen in his family history.
In
the past, in the high and remote mountain villages, far beyond the
reach of civil justice, his ancestor’s had used those powers to
punish wrong doers, and and to impose natural justice.
Those
beliefs and practices had been suppressed under the Soviet system,
until they had now largely melted into the mists of history. However,
the fact that many had forgotten the old ways did not make the Magija
any less potent. It was a new world now, but unlike his ageing body,
Goran’s powers, and his mind for that matter, were still as strong
and sharp as they had ever been. The powers had not been used in many
years, but he still had them, and could call them up again any time
should he need to.
Thoughts
of his homeland were suddenly knocked from his mind by a violent
jarring impact to his right side, which sent him tumbling heavily to
the ground. 
Knocked from his grasp, the paper bag of groceries
smashed onto the sidewalk.
Dazed
and in pain Goran looked up to see a handsome young man, wearing only
a pair of blue “Speedo” swimming trunks and rubber flipflops,
looking down angrily at him.
Jordan
Draper, being late for swimming practice, had been running through
the streets. Listening to his Walkman, a must have new invention at
the time, and distracted by his favourite Punk-rock band, Jordan had
not seen the old man, and had barged into him, Knocking Goran over
and causing Jordan to drop both his dark glasses and the personal
Stereo, the second of which had landed in a puddle of spilt milk from
Goran’s bag.
Look
what you did you stupid old fuck!
” yelled Jordan picking up the
Walkman, shaking it and attempting to dry it with his towel “It’s
fucking broken!
” Jordan was very proud of his Walkman, Sony had
only release the first version the year before, and, as with most
things, Jordan had the newest and most expensive model, now it was
ruined. His anger was increased by the fact that his shades had also
been damaged.
you
ran into me!” groaned Goran looking around at his new purchased
groceries strewn around amongst broken eggs, spilt milk and a the
shattered bottle of wine he had bought as his one indulgence of the
week.
You
shouldn’t have been in my way you old Moron!”snarled Jordan
Help
me up please!” gasped Goran reaching out towards the boy. But
instead of assisting the elderly man, Jordan just swore, and aimed a
kick at him, his foot impacting painfully with Goran’s rib cage and
knocking the wind out of his aged body. It was lucky that Jordan was
only wearing rubber flipflops, had he been wearing shoes, such a kick
would most likely have broken a fragile bone. Even so the kick left
Goran moaning and clutching his side in pain. 
 
That’s
for breaking my shades, you careless old fuck!
” shouted Jordan “Old
morons like you should be dead and not getting in folk’s way!
Goran
looked up at the youth, and his long trained eyes saw through the
handsome face and the firm, tanned and athletic body to the arrogant,
spoilt and cruel hart beneath them, and he felt a rage welling in his
body of a force he had not felt in many years. “You will pay for
this!” he hissed “you will pay!”
What?”
sneered Jordan “Fuck off you demented old fool!” he aimed a
second kick at the old man, this time bruising Goran’s stomach and
making him gasp for breath.
I
will make you pay for this!” gasped Goran
Jordan
laughed cruelly and was about to kick his victim again when he saw
two men walking down the street towards them “Fuck off, you stupid
old fool!
” he scoffed “You couldn’t even kiss my ass!” he
turned his speedo clad behind towards Goran and slapped his butt
cheek contemptuously.
You
will be sorry!” snarled Goran, his bony hands clutching into fists.
“Just wait!”
Jordan
snorted derisively “You are deaf too? you old fuck for brains?”
his lips curled into an ugly grin “I SAID KISS MY ASS!!”
Then,
clutching his broken walkman and dark glasses, and scowling angrily Jordan ran off in
the direction of the local college. He would have liked to give the
stupid old fossil a proper kicking, but was anxious not to be
identified, and perhaps beaten up, by the approaching men.
Old
Goran watched his assailant depart, his shaman’s eyes focused
directly on the seat of Jordan’s skimpy swimming trunks, which the
boy had insultingly invited him to kiss, and at the firm, juggling
young buttocks, which those speedos hugged tightly and almost lovingly.
In
his bisexual youth Goran has not been immune to the attraction of a
beautiful male bottom, but now he felt only burning fury, and an
insatiable need for vengeance. He might not kiss Jordan’s rump, but
his had other plans for it! Through the roaring of his rage he felt
the ancient power rising within him. “You will pay!” he
growled “and you will pay with that little American bottom of
yours!! You will pay and you will keep on paying, until I get my
revenge!!
He
then spoke in words which no American would recognise, and which few
in those far away and mysterious mountains would remember, but they
were words which were instantly heard and recognised by other things
in a different, darker, place. Things which had slept for a long,
long time but which now began to stir.
Moments
later the two passers by reached Goran and helped the old man to his
feet, as he continued to mutter incantations in an ancient and almost
forgotten tongue.
Meanwhile,
as Jordan ran off down the street towards the college, he could have
no idea of the mystical forces which his cruel and arrogant behaviour
had unleashed and that those long dormant forces were now aimed
directly at his tender and well rounded, Speedo covered, bottom.
The
old man had told Jordan that he would pay for what he did, and the
old man never told a lie.
TO
BE CONTINUED

Upate Coming Soon

I
know there has not been an update for a few of weeks. However, this
is because I am working on a very large project, which I hope will be
ready in about a week or 10 days.
I
will not say more now so as not to give anything away but I really
hope you will enjoy it and that it will be worth the wait.
___________