The Shaman’s Revenge Part 17 (Part 2)

The Shaman’s Revenge Part 17 (Part 2)

Jordan’s brain was still in a state of stunned shock the following morning. After the ranger had driven him home and he had endured an hour long lecture from his father on his various misdemeanours, followed by a long hot shower to wash away the dirt, grime and stress from his 72 hours in the wilderness, he has fallen into an exhausted sleep. However, it had been a fitful sleep full of scary nightmares of angry insects, huge carrots and doctors, with syringes the size of AK47 rifles, chasing him trough a forest variously booby-trapped with nettle patches and electric fences, all of which contrived to sting and zap his bottom.

And all the time as he ran through the dark forest he could hear the sound of the Ranger’s laughter echoing through the trees.

In his dream Jordan tripped and fell backwards into a thorn bush, landing heavily on his backside amongst the prickly thorns. As he struggled to free himself from the thorns, the ranger’s voice began echoing in his head “Time for your shots Sport” it said “It’s time for your shots!”

Then a large brawny hand was on his shoulder shaking him firmly as the voice above boomed “Wake up Sport, you’re making weird noises, were you dreaming?”

Jordan opened his eyes, and found he was in fact not in a thorn bush, but in his bed, and Ranger Tartarus was leaning over him with a huge grin on his face. In place of the uniform he had been wearing the previous day, the ranger was now dressed as if for a work out, in a muscle vest, which exposed his powerful arms and shoulders, and a small tight pair of shorts.

W..What are you doing in my room?” shouted Jordan angrily, sitting up in bed “….What are you doing in my house?”

I’m moving in Sport!” grinned the Ranger “Your Dad had to leave early this morning, he has had to go to Seattle for a couple of weeks on business, at short notice. So he’s asked me to move in and supervise you while he’s away!” his grin broadened “I am in the spare room, right next door to you!!”

I don’t need supervision!!” cried Jordan angrily

The ranger raised one eyebrow “With your misbehaviour this week, you have proved you need full time supervision Sport!” he said, “an’ I’m going to see you get it! I am owed a lot of vacation time, and I’m going to use it to look after you, it will be lots of fun, just think of me as your new Babysitter!!”

The suggestion that, he, a 19 year old jock, needed a babysitter outraged Jordan almost more than anything else, but before he could say anything, Tartarus pointed to the door “first up, its time for your morning shower, you know what they say ‘a clean body equals a clean mind!”

I showered last night!” grumbled Jordan, irritated at being ordered around like a little kid.

Well you need another one!” commanded the Ranger “’specially after those sweaty nightmares you were having!”

Jordan frowned wondering how the ranger knew he had nightmares “Well pass me my bathrobe then!” he muttered, pointing to the robe hanging on the back of the door.

You don’t need no robe Sport!” laughed Tartarus “Remember what the Doc said about keeping that ‘lil tail ‘o yours exposed!” he grinned broadly “’sides” he said “I seen it all before!!”

Jordan had no option, he jumped out of bed, keeping his hands gripped tightly over he genitals and hurried across the room to get to the shower.

As he walked across the landing he was keenly aware that the ranger’s amused eyes were fixed on him.

In particular, he knew the ranger was looking at his bare butt.

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Continue reading “The Shaman’s Revenge Part 17 (Part 2)”

The Shaman’s Revenge Part 14 – Jordan meets the Cody Brothers

The
Shaman’s Revenge Part 14
Jordan meets the
Cody Brothers
As
Jordan got closer to the buildings he had spotted in the distance,
his heart began to sink. From what he could see this was no
picturesque country farmhouse with roses round the door or a white
picket fence, and the chances of it being inhabited by a friendly
plump farmer and his wife, who would feed him pumpkin pie and lend
him their eldest son’s grown out of jeans were diminishing with each
step he took.
 
The
buildings appeared somewhat dilapidated and in poor repair, in fact
were it not for the half dozen or so scrawny looking chickens pecking
at seed corn in the yard and a rather ragged carpet, hanging on a
line, he might have concluded that the property was unoccupied.
Whoever did live in the ranch was obviously not house proud, and
Jordan’s instincts told him he was unlikely to receive a friendly
welcome.
He
decided that instead of seeking out the homeowner and asking for
help, he would merely see if there was any food or clothing he could
steal before continuing on his way.
Moving
as quietly as he could, he crept up to the old ranch house. He
sprinted quickly up to a small sash window and peered into what
appeared to be a bedroom with an unmade cot, and, he was pleased to
note, a pile of discarded clothes in the corner. In the past he would
have disdained the idea of wearing someone else’s discarded clothes,
but he was now in no position to be choosy. At least he could cover
his nakedness and then maybe find his way to the kitchen and some
food.
He
attempted to prize open the window, but it clearly had not been
opened for years, and was sealed shut. He considered breaking the
glass, but decided the noise would alert whoever lived in the farm of
his presence. 
 
In
the hope of finding an easier window, he tiptoed round the side of
the house, and, for once, his luck was in, as one of the windows had
been left open, he hurried up to it and cautiously looked in to what
appeared to be a very old fashioned and run down kitchen with a
kitchen table, covered with 1950’s style plastic with a large
kerosene lamp in the middle. Against the wall was large Iron stove,
reminiscent to something one might see in a frontier type movie.
However, of most interest to Jordan was a tiny walk in cupboard at
the side of the room, which appeared to me a larder.
At
the very thought of a larder his stomach began to rumble with hunger.
It was now almost 24 hours since he had last eaten, a for a boy who
was accustom to three meals and a few snacks a day, this was all but
starvation. Jordan loved food, to the point of over indulgence, and
it was only his healthy metabolism and active lifestyle which kept
his handsome body in it’s sleek athletic state.
Much
as he needed clothes, his stomach needed food even more, so his first
priority lay in whatever was in the larder. After taking a swift
look around to ensure he was still unobserved, Jordan quickly
clambered through the open window into the kitchen. Whilst ensuring
he made as little sound as possible, he hurried over to the larder
and looked inside.
The
content of the larder was rather disappointing, given the marked lack
of candy, cheeseburgers or hot dogs. However, there was bread, oil
and there was also a bowl containing about a dozen eggs and a small
jug of milk.
They
would have to do.
Of
course he couldn’t eat raw eggs, so he carried the bowl across to the
old iron stove. He noted with relief that it was still alight, and
it only took a little poking and some extra kindling to get it
flaming and heating up the stone ring on the top.
He
then poured some oil into a heave based frying pan, which he placed
on the ring to heat up, before cracking most of the eggs and tipping
the contents into the pan and stirring it together to make
rudimentary scrambled eggs.
The
eggs were ready in minutes, and once they were, Jordan quickly
scraped them onto a plate, before carelessly discarding the pan onto
the side of the stove. Then, still naked, he sat down at the table
and hungrily devoured the eggs and bread, whilst drinking milk
straight from the jug.
Jordan
was so occupied in consuming his first meal in a day, he failed to
hear the door behind him opening, or the sound of stealthy footfall
creeping towards him.
The
spidery sense that there was someone behind him finally hit Jordan
just too late to save him, as a large, leathery, sun tanned hand
landed in his shoulder and a loud voice with a distinct Country ca
dance snarled in his ear “How dare you sneak in butt nekid’ and
steal from our larder you thievin’ Varmit!?”
Jordan
leaped to his feet and spun round to find a huge mountain of a man,
bulging with muscles and shaggy black hair, on both his head and
chest, looming over him with an unmistakably hostile and menacing
expression on his face. Then a second man, equally muscular, but
with a bristling light brown beard entered the room.
Floyd
and Billy Bob Cody, together with their younger brother Seth, had
lived in their remote ranch house for most of their lives, ever since
their papa was locked away in the county prison for killing a man in
a bar fight and their mother had abandoned them after taking up with
a tractor salesman from North Dakota. The Cody boys had been looked
after by their grandmother, Ernestine Clutterbuck, until she, sadly
expiredd from an excess on sweet potato moonshine and chewing
tobacco.
Living
mostly alone, with only the acquaintance of a few nearby ranchers,
the Cody brother had little experience of city folk, but both could
spot a pretty city boy when they saw one, and Jordan was an
unconscionably pretty boy. Both men felt a stirring in their groins,
which they didn’t fully comprehend.
My
.. my clothes were stolen .. and I…I was hungry!” stammered
Jordan, keenly aware that he was in a very dangerous predicament.
Unfortunately, his explanation didn’t help
So!”
hissed Floyd, holding his face so close to Jordan’s that the latter
could feel the spit on his face “Just ‘cos, someone stole from you,
you thought you could then rob us blind did you boy?!” his lip
curled into a cruel shape “You need a good whopping youngun’ and
you’re gonna’ get one” with that he snatched the, still smoking,
pan which Jordan had used to cook the eggs, from the stove! “This’ll
do just fine!” 
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He
then took hold of Jordan by the ear and forcibly marched him over to
an old wooden chair in the centre of twhat passed for he cabin’s
lounge.
No
please sir!” wailed Jordan “Don’t hit me with … that!! I will
pay for the food … my Dad will pay you, just phone him!”
We
don’t have no telephone here!” growled Floyd “You are gonna’ pay,
and you’ll pay with that pretty lil’ white butt o’ yours!” he sat
down and roughly pulled Jordan, face down, over his knee into what,
for Jordan, was becoming a depressingly familiar position..
With
that, he raised the pan up above his head and then brought it down
with a resounding “THUD!” on Jordan’s upturned bottom. On
account of having been left on the side of the old cooker, rather
than directly on the hot plate, the pan was no longer hot enough to
cause scaring burns, but it was still hot enough to feel as if it
was! Jordan’s high pitched squeal of pain and outrage echoed round
the shabby wooden room, followed with a second and a third, as Floyd
continued to wallop him with the hot, heavy bottomed pan.
Yeah!
Whop that city boy’s butt Bro!” shouted Billy Bob “Whop him good!
Make him feel it!!”
Jordan
was certainly “feeling it”, the strength of Floyd Cody’s blows,
combined with the retained heat of the old frying pan, felt to Jordan
as if his tender butt was literally being fried.
His
yelps of pain merged into wails of anguish and then and then loud
uncontrolled sobs, as his muscular captor continued to assail him.
Finally
Floyd stopped pan paddling Jordan, he stood up, and scooped the young
man up under his arm as easily as if the 18 year old athlete were a
light as a feather.
Say
Bro!” cried Billy Bob “That city boy butt sure does look pretty.
All red an all!” he grinned “I could just eat that, roast with
sweet potatoes and a carrot up his ass!” 
 
Floyd
looked down, at Jordan’s glowing, just paddled, bottom and long
tanned legs sticking out from beneath his massive hairy armpit “Yeah,
I’d say it does look kina’ pretty like that, we’ll have to make sure
it stays that way!”
Billy
Bob reacted excitedly to the implication of his elder brother’s words
“Can we keep him Floyd!” he asked gleefully “Please Bro lets
keep him, then you can spank him every morning and I’ll do it each
evening to keep his city boy tush pretty and red!”
Well
okay!” replied Floyd “Just so long as you an’ Seth keep guard of
him during the day, stopping him from running off, and make sure he
earns his keep!”
Oh
yes, we’ll guard him!” insisted Billy Bob “we will make sure he
does stuff round the farm …….!” he paused, and grinned
sheepishly “and then have some ….. fun with him!” he chuckled
Jordan
listened in horror to the men’s discussion, he certainly did not like
the idea of being kept or … being had fun with!! “Please Sirs,!”
he stammered “Let me go, I need to go home …. I won’t say
anything ….!
Shut
your mouth Varmit!” snapped Floyd delivering a resounding WHACK to
Jordan’s upturned bottom with the pan he still held in his powerful
hand. “Come on Billy Bob, lets put him in the cellar.”
The
men carried Jordan down to their cellar, repeatedly bumping his head
against the wall as they did so. Floyd then tossed him onto the hard
earth floor, before he and Billy Bob tied their captive up.
As
the felt the cellar, Billy Bob looked back “Sleep well, pretty
boy!” he said “We’ll have some fun in the morning”
Needless
to say, Jordan did not sleep well, the throbbing pain in his bottom,
together with the horror of his situation, and fearful anticipation
of the “fun” Billy Bob had in mind for him kept him wide away.
Even later, when he did fall into an unhappy and fitful sleep, he was
haunted by awful and frightening dreams, all focused on the new
torments he was sure would soon be inflicted on his long suffering
behind.
Jordan
had been living though a period of extraordinarily bad luck, but even
by those standards, his luck had now taken an especially nasty turn.
He dreaded to think what further misadventures were in store for him!
TO
BE CONTINUED

The Singeing of Crispin Cherrybutt (Part Four – pt 1)

The
Singeing of Crispin Cherrybutt
(Part Four – pt 1)
As
his eyes began to become accustomed to the dark, Crispin finally
began to be able to see who
else
was sharing the dungeon with him. He could make out a handsome
muscular man, about eight or ten years older than himself, with a
face which was vaguely familiar. At first he struggled to recall
where he knew the man from.
Then
he remembered “Gallant Sir Tybalt!” he gasped, “Is it really
you?”
The
older man, raised his head, as if surprised “It is a long time
since I have heard my name spoken” he replied, “but, yes, it is
I!” his voice, was strong and deep, with the cadence of noble
birth, melding incongruously with the slight hesitance of one who
has not shared a conversation in quite some time.
I
recall, when you left to fight the dragon!” blurted Crispin, “I
was just a child then, I was with the crowd cheering you as you rode
from the city, and I recall how inspired I was by your bravery!” he
paused as he remembered, “When you did not return people feared
the dragon had …… cooked you with his fiery breath, and eaten
you!”
Tybalt
sighed “Ah!” he said “I would have suffered less if it had
eaten me!” he looked at Crispin with an expression of sorrowed
compassion “As I fear you will soon suffer also!”
W…what
do you mean?” asked Crispin, the quiver in his vice betraying any
attempt at appearing stoic and brave!”
These
man who pose as monks are in fact the Hellish creatures of an evil
Lord!” replied “This is no Holy order, they long ago lost their
faith and are now a dangerous cult, who worship a fearsome demon who
rules over the pit of torment!” he shuddered “They demonstrate
their devotion to the beast by inflicting the torments of Tartarus on
their captives ….. me ….. us!”
Crispin’s
mouth fell open in unconcealed shock, stunned by what he was hearing,
and increasingly nervous of what might lie in store for him!
Why
have you not escaped?” he asked
Believe
me, I have tried!” replied Tybalt, “But the monks keep me closely
guarded!” he paused and glanced around, as if checking they were
not overheard, before he continued in a hushed voice “You must keep
this secret!” he whispered “I am digging a tunnel, it is hidden
behind that boulder in the corner, but it is taking a long time, as
the stone is so hard. Perhaps now there are two of us, we will make
more progress!”
Before
Crispin could respond and express his eager willingness to join
Tybalt in digging his escape tunnel, the great wooden door to the
dungeon was flung open by a group of monks who entered, grabbing hold
of the two handsome knights and dragging them up the stairs.
Crispin
attempted to struggle free, but the monk’s were unexpectedly strong
and had superior numbers, so they held him firm. Meanwhile Tybalt,
perhaps weakened and disheartened by his years as a prisoner, seemed
resigned to his fate, and put up little resistance.
The
monks carried and dragged the protesting Crispin and the sad faces
but silent Tybalt into a large chamber with two drape covered altar
in the middle, on to which the two young men were forced to crawl,
before their wrists and ankles were tightly shackled with leather and
chains.
Tybalt
gave Crispin a doleful look, his voice quivered with compassion and
resignation “Be brave my friend!” he said “Your suffering will
be great, but it will end eventually”
Crispin
was not feeling at all brave, and his composure was not improved by
the older man’s ominous words.
Then
the situation got considerably worse, as one of the younger monks
stepped forward carrying a tray on which were two huge and erect
penises, both seemingly carved from what the wide eyed and fearful
Crispin instantly recognised as the dreaded fire root.
It
was only hours since his last encounter with this fearsome root, and
his anus was still painfully smarting, he prayed to whatever god was
listening that the huge objects before him would not be used for a
similar purpose. Sadly, it seemed that the only god listening was
the monstrous demon to whom the monks paid homage, and the miserable
expression in Tybalt’s handsome brown eyes, told Crispin that his
worst fears were about to be fulfilled.
Two
of the monks took hold of the carved phalluses, the younger of the
two flinching slightly as the scalding juices burnt his fingers. Then
each walked to the end of an altar, whilst chanting in an archaic
tongue.
Once
they stood behind each man they lifted the fire root penises up
before roughly inserting the first six inches of the intricately
carved objects into into the rectums of the two unhappy knights,
leaving a further four or so inches and the large scrotum shaped
appendage sticking out. 
 
With
the stoicism gained from long exposure to such outrages Tybalt merely
moaned slightly, however, the raw young Crispin for whom this was
agonisingly new yell, screamed and cried out obscenities as the
burning juices of the fire root soaked into his his most intimate and
tender areas.
Two
further monks, who’s presence, until that moment, had gone relatively
unnoticed by the handsome knights, and who were holding large wooden
paddle like objects, easily mistakable for ancient flatbread or pizza
shovels, also stepped forward.
The
two monks then brought down the wooden paddles, which they had been
holding high like flags, until they were inches from the base of the
fire root phalluses protruding from the knights behinds. Then they
swung them back and then forward hitting the base of the vegetable
scrotum with a loud whack, and forcing a further centime of the shaft
into the tight orifice.
Tybult
gasped and Crispin literally squealed with pain and shock as the huge
object was squeezed further inside him.
The
monks continued to whack their paddles against the replica organs as
if they were knocking a peg into a hole with a mallet.
The
force of the blows first split the phalluses, and then then began to
crush the large scrotum bulge at the end, sending sprays of scalding
fire root sap across the two knights. handsome and exposed buttocks.
Soon the carved stiffies had all but vanished, the main part having
been forced inside the unlucky victims, and the rest crushed in to
acid like liquid. Yet, still the Monk’s continued to paddle the
knights with their fire root soaked paddles, escalating the impact of
each blow with impact of the old dragon’s fiery breath.
Unable
to tolerate the pain Crispin began to shout, cursing and threatening
the monks with what he would do to them when he was free.
Take
care my friend!” urged Tybalt in alarm “take care lest the friars
punish you more severely” he attempted to whisper to the younger
man “they will take you to the hives, and, believe me Dear friend,
you never want to be taken to the hives!!
However,
Crispin ignored his compatriot’s warning and continued to snarl,
curse and should threats at the monks. Too late he realised the
danger he was placing himself in.
The
oldest monk, who appeared to be the leader, approached the alters a
cruel smile on his ugly and twisted lips, he took hold of a clump of
Crispin’s hair in his fist, lifted the young knight’s head up and
looked into his face.
Well,
well, you impudent young pup! He scoffed “You have not learned your
lesson yet!” he grinned in a way that sent a shiver down Crispin’s
back “You need serious chastisement my boy” the old monk growled
unkindly “and our little friends are well equipped for that!”
___________
TO
BE CONTINUED
I
hope to post more of part four on Tuesday

.

The Singeing of Crispin Cherrybutt (Part One)

The
Singeing of Crispin Cherrybutt
 

Part
one: Our Hero’s Buns get Toasted
  
In
a time long ago, and in a land far away, there lived a handsome young
Knight. Fair of face and blessed with a fit and lithe young body, he
was, at first sight, everything a romantic novelist, or a teller of
noble tails would dream of. However, he may have possessed physical
beauty, but that was were his fairy fairy tail qualities ended. In
addition to dashing good looks, a Romantic Hero must have other many
virtues, such as nobility, integrity, honour, chivalry and kindness,
in all these areas, the young Knight was sorely lacking.
In
his own mind however, he was near perfect, all that was needed he
believed, was for others to know it too.
Not
only was Crispin Cherrybutt the handsomest knight in the land, he was
determined to prove himself to be the bravest, and he would do so by
slaying the fearsome dragon which had been terrorising the local
countryside.
Many
brave nights had tried before him without success, but arrogant young
Crispin was convinced that he would be the one to succeed where
others had failed. It was with this pride and the conviction of his
own superiority, that he had set out on his quest.
It
had been a long journey to reach the Dragon’s layer, but it would be
worth it, as he stood outside the entrance to the cave where the
terrible creature had made its nest, he paused to contemplate the
tributes and honours he would receive when he returned with the
dragon’s head on the end of a pike. He was also sure he would
receive a fortune in gold from the king and, in addition he it would
be his right to deflower all the loveliest maidens in the kingdom.
Other
knights had travelled to this same destination seeking honour and
also to rid the land of a terrible menace. However, such altruistic
considerations did not occur to Chrispin, he thought only of the
wealth, acclaim and sexual pleasuring which success would bring him.
Yes,
he thought, he would be a hero when he returned with such a trophy.
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However,
the wily old dragon had other plans for the proud young Knight,
rather than returning as a triumphant hero, once the beast had
finished with him he would slink home as a defeated boy, with a very
sore bottom.
As
soon as young Chrispin set foot in the Dragon, cave, the bravado,
which had powered his quest deserted him, and was replaced by
nervousness and by his inflated sense of self preservation. He
attempted to steel his courage by thinking of the wealth slaying the
beast would bring him, and all the eager wenches who would surrender
their virtue to him. However, try as he might, those prospects no
longer seemed quite so attractive when they depended upon confronting
a dragon. 

 

A
shiver ran down his spine as he recalled the tales he had heard of
dragons, who, it was said, not only ate young knights like him, but
cooked them alive first with their fiery breath. Beads of sweat
appeared on his forehead as he struggled to dismiss his fear. He
resolved that to explore just the first chamber of the cavern, and,
if he did not find the dragon there, he would leave and go home.
Crispin’s
nerves would be in an even worse state, and his decision to search
only the outer chamber appear even less shrewd, if he had looked
behind him-and seen the large scaly shape lurking in the shadows and
observing his every move.
The
elderly dragon had been aware of the handsome young knight’s arrival
since he had first ridden up to the entrance of the cave. He knew
what Crispin’s intentions were, as he was not the first to try,
however from long experience the dragon was adept at dispatching such
nuisances.
However,
the dragon was in an uncharacteristically amiable mood, he had
feasted well on a bullock he had taken from local farm, and did not
have any desire to eat man flesh at that time. However, he was
resolved to teach the young upstart a lesson he would not forget,
and, being a dragon, he was well equipped to do so!
Silently,
despite his size, the creature follwed the young knight as he
nervously ventured further into the cave, awaiting the opportune
moment to strike.
Moments
later, young Crispin Cherrybutt presented the waiting dragon with the
perfect opportunity, when he bent forward tp peer into one of the
smaller inner chambers of the cavern.
In
that far away land, following the examples set by those such as the
Greeks and the Spartans, the young warrior were all but naked beneath
their armour.

 Thus it was that the sight of Chrispin’s perfect,
shapely and hairless bare bottom thrust towards him, like a cannibal
banquet, as he bent, was a dizzyingly tempting target which no self
respecting dragon could resist.
The
old dragon did not resist temptation for one moment, and ceasing the
opportunity to teach the impertinent intruder the lesson he so dearly
deserved, he breathed in, and the opening his vast jaws in a blood
curdling roar, exhaled a stream of flame aimed directly at the
exposed seat of the arrogant young nuisance in front of him. Striking
right on the tight divide in the middle, and spreading across each
bare cheek. 

As
the flames hit his tender skin, Crispin let out an ear-splitting
shriek of agony, and leaped three feet into the aim clutching at his
toasted buns. The pain was like something he had never experience
before, and he instantly knew, without looking round what had caused
it.
He
spun round and saw what he had known would be there, and it was even
more fearsome than he could have imagined. The dragon stared back at
him, and its jaws twisted into what Crispin was convinced was a cruel
and sardonic grin of satisfaction.
Crispin
did not waste a moment, and with the terror enhancing his already
outstanding agility, he dodged past the dragon, and ran full pelt out
of the cave still clutching his dragon’s breath seared bottom.
The
dragon let out a second roar and shot out another fiery stream of
flame, which despite Crispin’s swift and greyhound attempt to avoid
it, succeeded in singeing Crispin’s fingers and the tops of the
insides of his thighs.
With
the speed of the athlete he was, Crispin ran out of the cave and over
to where he had tethered his steed.
The
dragon did not follow, he was too full of fattened bullock to run
after a healthy young buck, and anyway his intention had only been to
scare the impudent boy away, and leave hima token to remember him by.
Crispin
would certainly never forget the dragon and his well singed bottom
would keep the memory fresh for days to come. He had a two and a half
day ride home ahead on him, and he would feel every bump.
As
the tears of pain and humiliation rand down Crispin’s still
devastatingly handsome face and he strained every muscle in an
impossible attempt to keep his sore and well scorched bottom from
contacting with with the hard and sun heated saddle, he could not
have known that his painful adventures had only just begun.
_______________________
Notes:
i) Part one was inspired by regular reader Sammie.
ii)
This story is by way of an intermission, “The Shaman’s Revenge will
continue soon.
.
 

The Shaman’s Revenge (Part 9)

The
Shaman’s Revenge (Part 9)
Chase
Colby had just returned home after a very bad day, there had been a
lot of bad days recently, but that day had been one of the worst as
he had just lost the second job in three month. Chase’s boss. Will
Bryant, the Caretaker at Capsaicin College, had eventually tired of
the lazy young fool’s constant lateness and shoddy workmanship and
sacked him.
This
was a big problem for Chase as he needed the money. Due to his poor
credit rating he had needed to borrow money from a loan shark, and
the interest was very high, if he could repay the debt the lender was
likely to become very unpleasant.
More
significantly, on his scale of importance, Chase liked having money
in his pocked, it was a lot easier to ball chicks when a guy had
money.
Despite
his financial concerns, however, Chase had still spent part of the
cash he had left on beer and some high quality weed from a dealer he
knew. He figured that a drink and a smoke would take his mind off
his troubles.

As
soon as the handsome young wastrel got home, he stripped naked and
spent ten minutes under a shower, the hot soapy water providing a
welcome balm to his lithe and tanned, perfectly formed but tense and
aching body.
Finally
stepping out of the shower and drying himself, he padded, still
naked, into the studio bedroom of his tiny apartment, and turned on
his huge “Ghetto blaster” style portable radio, tuned to a
station which played his favourite heavy rock music 24/7, then opened
a first bottle of beer, which he swiftly downed and followed with a
second. 

He then threw himself face down on the bed and rolled
himself a joint from the marijuana he had purchased earlier that day.
After
a few puffs of the expensive weed, Chase began to feel mellow and
relaxed, he leaned over and turned up the music as high as it would
go, yelling “Yeah man!” as he did so.
Chase
planned to only play the music for an hour or so, since the incident
with the wasps, which he was superstitiously convinced the weird old
East European man upstairs had something to do with, he had made sure
the he did not make any noise after 10:30 at night, when he believed
the old man went to bed.
His
good behaviour motivated by fear rather than good neighbourliness,
Chase had intended to do the same that night. However, the drugs
which his pusher had sold him was a lot more powerful than usual,
and the effect was intensified by combining it with the strong beer
he had just drunk. As a result, within twenty minutes of lighting
the first joint, the unlucky young hunk had fallen fast asleep.
Chase
would be unconscious for the next eleven hours, although he did not
sleep peacefully, as his dreams were troubled by the same reoccurring
nightmare, in which he was running naked through an endless field of
corn, pursued by a swarm of giant and angry hornets, all intent on
stinging his bare behind.
Throughout
the long hours of hours of the night, the loud rock music continued
to blare out of the huge speakers wired to his ghetto blaster. The
noise was so loud, it smothered all other sounds, including his
elderly upstairs neighbour furiously hammering on the floor, and
threatening Chase with every agony that Hell had in store for him.
*************
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Whilst
Chase still slept, elsewhere in town, Jordan Draper had risen early,
and was up to no good. Before anyone else was awake he slipped out of
the house and hurried quietly across the road to the old McKinny
house, where the ranger was living, and he was intent on doing harm
in some way, although he had not yet decided what way.
After
the events of the last two days, it had become clear to Jordan that
having the ranger for a neighbour was really bad news for him, and
likely to get worse. He had to get rid of the ranger, or find some
way of stopping him from causing trouble.
Various
ideas went through his head, perhaps he could find evidence of bad
deeds on the rangers part, which Jordan could use to blackmail the
officer into leaving town. It seemed obvious that a guy who took
such obvious pleasure in spanking a guy, and sticking needles in his
ass, had to be some sort of pervert, maybe there would be some
evidence of perversion in the house, which Jordan could use.
Failing
that, if the hose “accidentally” caught fire, the ranger would
have to more, or even better, the ranger might be trapped inside the
house when it burnt down.
With
vengeance also on his mind, the thought of the ranger burning to
death …. slowly ….. was not an unattractive prospect to Jordan at
that moment!
Once
at the back of the old McKinny house, Jordan looked around for the
best way to get in, and noticed that a small skylight window in the
basement appeared to be unlocked. He pushed it with his foot and it
gave way. The window was unlocked, and it was just large enough for
him to squeeze through.
After
furtively glancing around to check that there was nobody watching,
Jordan climbed through the window and, with the agility of a young
fawn, jumped down to the floor below. The Mckinny basement was not
one of those which had been remodelled into a trendy residential
space, or underground games room, but instead it was the old style
storage space beneath the house, with a stained concrete floor,
exposed rafters and a single light bulb hanging on a wire from the
ceiling.
He
saw a light switch and turned on the single light, so as to be able
to better see where he was. As he did so, Jordan noticed an unlit
furnace and some cans of gasoline on one side of the room, these
would be useful if he did decide to burn down the house. However,
first he needed to find a way into the main living, and began
creeping towards a set of stone stairs leading to a doorway.
However,
it was at this point that things became surreal, as suddenly, there
was a sound like a rushing wind around his feet, and then, to his
amazement his feet left the floor, as if some strange force was
lifting him up and tipping him forward, but instead of falling
towards the floor, he began floating upwards towards the ceiling, as
if his body was defying gravity.
 
What
the f….?” gasped Jordan, unable to fully comprehend what was
happening to him. He had once seen a show featuring a magician
seemingly levitating his assistant, but he was sure that was faked.
Whereas this was really happening. He reached out to grab at a
central pillar in an attempt to steady himself, but it was out of his
reach, and he just kept steadily rising like some weightless
astronaut.
If
that was not bizarre enough, suddenly first one shoe slipped off his
feet and fell to the floor followed by a second, then his jeans
became became strangely loose and began falling down his legs.
Jordan grabbed out to stop the jeans coming off totally, but it was
too late, as they had already slipped down his legs and joined the
shoes in a crumpled pile of blue denim on the floor.
Jordan
could not believe what was happening to him, this shit couldn’t be
for real, he must be asleep and dreaming.
What
happened next made his realise with 100% certainty that he was wide
awake. He was now naked from the waste down, and as he continued to
float upwards , his exposed bare bottom was getting closer and closer
to the glowing light bulb. Of course as the light bulb was behind
him, Jordan was unaware that he was gliding towards it, until the hot
glass sphere touched the tender skin between his butt cheeks.
AAAAGHHH!”
screamed Jordan “That’s FUCKING HOT!!!” indeed the bulb was very
hot, and inexplicably seemed to be getting hotter and hotter as it
rubbed against Jordan’s most tender and sensitive area. Then as if
two large invisible hands had grasped each butt cheek, and spread
them open, so that the glowing light bulb slipped between them, and
was soon pressed against the puckering pink rim of his anus.
“YYYYEEEEEOOOOOOOOO”” screamed Jordan as the bulb continued to
heat up. “Someone help me!!”
Although,
it seemed much longer, Jordan’s anus was, in fact, only in contact
with the bulb for a matter of seconds, but it was long enough to
singe the tender skin.
Then,
as if whatever had lifted him up was weakening its grip, Jordan began
descending back towards floor. Then suddenly, inanimate objects
which had been lying about the basement, seem to come to life, and
fly towards him, swirling around his backside and legs in a spectacle
reminiscent of some clever cartoon animation. However, their purpose
seemed altogether less innocent than most cartoons.
First
a pair of hard soled old arm boots flew at Jordan as he still floated
down before the left boot delivered a massive kick to his uplifted
backside, sending him flying forward, and causing one of his socks to
fall off. The right boot then kicked Jordan’s other butt cheek,
causing his second sock to fall off and Jordan to let out a further
cry of pain.
Next,
an old garden rake flew at this him and began jabbing his bottom with
it’s sharp prongs. Sometimes it jabbed the butt cheeks and sometimes
it jabbed between. Now on the floor, Jordan, tried crawling out of
range of the needle like prongs, but the fork followed him, still
jabbing away.
In
some way that Jordan couldn’t quite understand, as he crawled, his
hooded sweat shirt, also fell off, leaving him naked.
However,
for all their bruising kicks and jabbing thrusts. The boots and the
garden fork were mere warm up acts compared to the next object
which was to assault the young athlete’s punished posterior.
Although smaller than the other items, who knew that a common plastic
bristled bottle brush could have such a devastating impact, if
inserted where it was about to thrust itself. 
 
First
the brush spun in circles, as if taking aim, then, with the
trajectory of a speeding bullet, it shot towards the unlucky young
athlete’s raised bottom, pushed between his buttocks, forcing open
the tight pink orifice between, and penetrating deep inside Jordan,
until every plastic bristle had vanished from view, and only the long
wire handle protruded from between the quivering cheeks.
Jordan,
a look of wide eyed shock on his face, opened his mouth to cry out,
but no sound came, and a silent scream echoed round the shabby
basement. He was like a frozen statue kneeling in an all fours “doggy
position” as the full enormity of the horror sunk in.
The
bristles of the bottle brush were only plastic, so they were not, in
reality, tearing his flesh, they just felt as if they were was.
However, it we not just the pain which further discomforted Jordan,
the bristles seemed to be pricking against every nerve end within in
his lower body, sending electric like pulses, similar to touching an
especially sensitive tooth, through his tense young body.
This
was causing sensations, he had never felt before, and never wished to
feel again. There are many straight men who derive secret pleasure
from anal penetration, but Jordan was not one of these men, for him
the sensation was nightmarish and incapacitating.
He
reached back, took hold of the wire handle and attempted to pull the
brush out if it’s new socket. However, the shock had caused his rear
passage to involuntarily tighten, with the result that the brush was
gripped firmly and would not budge.
A
flood or rational and and irrational thoughts washed back and forth
through his mind, he could understand very little of what had
happened within the last few frantic minutes, however the one stark
reality was that he needed to get this ghastly alien object removed
from his body, and for that, however embarrassing it might be, it
meant he had to find help.
He
attempted to stand up, but found he could not, as any attempt to
stand straight caused the bottle brush inside him to push against
nerves and muscle, causing an almost Sciatica like paralysis, which
kept him bent double. There was no way that he could either mount
the stairs, or climb back out the window, if he was stuck in this
position.
As
he lay on the floor, effectively immobilised, the full nightmare
reality of his predicament became clear, he was trapped, stark naked
in the basement of an officer of the law, who obviously wished him
ill and who’s home he had just broken into. And top top it all, he
had a bottle brush wedged up his ass.
With
mounting horror Jordan realised that he was, well and truly, and
indeed literally, fucked!
To
be continued ….

The Shaman’s Revenge Part 7 (3)

 The
Shaman’s Revenge Part 7 (3)
The
garage door gradually slid upwards and open, almost like a theatre
curtain slowly rising to reveal the entertainment to an impatient
audience, and indeed the Draper family’s neighbours were about to
enjoy a grand entertainment at Jordan’s expense.
The
Drapers had only moved to the area four years previously, however, in
that period, Jordan’s attitude and behaviour had made him deeply
unpopular within the community, hence there was widespread
satisfaction, and measurable delight that this overgrown brat was
getting his well deserved comeuppance. The delight in no way
diminished the fact that the handsome young athlete was totally
naked.
Word
soon spread and people came hurrying out of their houses, whilst
others left work early and rushed home, so as not to miss the
spectacle.
As
we return to the scene of our moral tale, handsome 18 year old
Swimming champion Jordan was still in what many consider to be one
the most exposed and humiliating of spanking position, a position
which their mysterious new neighbour, the ranger, who had now
introduced himself as Caleb Tartarus, had referred to as a
“wheelbarrowin’”. That is to say, he was naked, face down between
his father’s knees with his own legs on either side of his dad’s
waist.
As
with most arrogant and conceited people, Jordan had a fragile ego and
a horror of being shamed or embarrassed in public. Therefore, this
ongoing humiliation was more than his sensitive pride could bear, but
he had to bear it. There was no avenue of escape open to him, even
if he had been able to struggle free from from his father’s grip, he
knew the gleefully applauding junior baseball team would wrestle him
to the ground and drag him beck! 
 
That
would just add to his total humiliation, a shaming which was being
hungrily enjoyed by the growing crowd of happy looking neighbours.
As
has been established in earlier chapter’s, Jordan’s bottom was no
less tender than his ego, and the pain caused by his fathers
relentless hand smacks was becoming equally intolerable. Not for the
first time in recent days Jordan’s well rounded smooth skinned, and
previously ivory white bottom, felt well and truly toasted.
Finally
The spanking came to an end, but sadly for Jordan and happily for his
neighbours and the watching schoolboys, his embarrassing ordeal was
nowhere near over.
You
can get off now Jordan” said Jordan’s father giving the now rosy
red bottom a final pat. At which point, Jordan swiftly wriggled off
his fathers lap and leapt agilely to his feet. He was getting ready
to bolt out the door when he felt the ranger’s hand on his shoulder
“Not so fast youngun’” said Caleb in his characteristic lazy
drawl “Something tells me you have not been pulling your weight
around here! Have you boy?!” he grinned “I see your ol’ Dad was
about to pay these fine young gentlemen from the baseball team to
clean the garage, but it seems t’ me that chore should be down to
you! … whilst they get the money o’ course!”
What
the …?” stammered Jordan, at the last instant stopping himself
from swearing, which he senses would not be a wise more. 
 
I
am a’thinkin’ that it’s your job to be cleaning your Dad’s garage,
and there is no better time to start than now!” Caleb’s cruel grin
grew broader “You can start by cleaning this filthy floor …” he
reached in his pocket and produced a small pink toothbrush ”here
you go!” he said “you can use this!!”
at
that, the smiling onlookers burst into spontaneous laughter, at the
prospect of the town’s laziest jock having to clean a dirty garage
with a toothbrush. 
 
WHAT?”
spluttered Jordan “You expect me to clean the floor …. and …
with THAT?!!”

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It’ll
do the job, if’n you put some effort into it!” replied Caleb “now
get to it boy …. or I’ll be giving you more of what your good ol’
Dad just gave you, ‘sept, I guarantee I’ll do it a lot harder!!”
B…but
… but … it will take hours with THAT!” protested Jordan.
All
the more reason to get started now!” snarled Caleb, his previous
lazy joviality vanishing briefly from his face “On your hands and
knees boy, and start scrubbing!”
Good
idea Ranger Tartarus” laughed Mr Draper producing a bucket of soapy
water, which he pad poured earlier, when he had planed to pay the
baseball players to clean the garage floor as part of their fund
raising “Here son use this!”
 
There
was clearly no means of escape, so, reluctantly, and with a heavy
heart Jordan lowered himself onto his hands and knees, dunked the
child size little toothbrush into the bucket, and began scrubbing the
dirty garage floor.
The
garage floor was dirtier than he had realised with years of embedded
grease, oil and dirt, which as very difficult to remove, no matter
how hard Jordan scrubbed. “Can’t I use something better than this
damn useless toothbrush?” he began to complain.
SWISH
WHACK!! .. Caleb delivered a stinking whack to Jordan’ upraised
bottom with the old fly swatter he had picked up earlier “Quit
complaining and put some effort in!” He snapped.
The
spectators all crowded around to get a better view of Jordan, naked
and humiliated, on the garage floor, with his shiny red, just
spanked, bottom on display.
Get
that butt a’ yourn up in the air boy!” commanded the ranger “and
don’t ignore the corners!” he deliberately, and repeatedly directed
Jordan into positions where his bare butt and, on account of it’s
raised state, his tiny, tight and pink rectum were on full display to
the assembled crowd, knowing that this would add to Jordan’s
discomfort.
He
then made matter’s worse by adding “y’a know boy, they say when a
defeated baboon surrenders, it expresses it’s surrender by presenting
it’s backside to the vitcorious ape!” he laughed “so it seems
that right now you are the surrendering baboon! And I am the pack
leader!” … he laughed again “You make a damn pretty baboon
though I must say! Go on you lil’ defeated monkey, wave your red
butt and little rosebud at us!!” 
 
As
Caleb had correctly calculated, his words were yet another knife
thrust at Jordan’s sensitive ego, his shaming all the worse by having
attention drawn to his spanked ass and fully displayed butt crack! He
also seethed inwardly at being compared to a subservient ape exposing
it’s rear end to the alpha male of the pack, which is what the Ranger
clearly considered himself to be. Jordan attempted, not very
successfully, to lessen his feeling of humiliation by thinking about
the revenge he would take on the laughing ranger, as soon as he got a
chance.
It
took Jordan over six hours of hard work to finally clean the garage
floor to the ranger’s satisfaction, and for all those hours, Caleb
stood over him issuing orders and delivering whack after whack to his
already roasted bottom with the stinging fly swatter.
Although
the Baseball team eventually left the scene to get their dinners,
passers by, alerted to what was happening by the fast moving gossip,
still arrived to crowd around and watch, well into the late evening.
Poor
Jordan, things were not turning out well for him, and his worst ever
day would become a legend in his home town.
***********
It
was hours later, and Jordan was in a dark cavern, deep beneath the
earth deep beneath the earth’s crust, surrounded by crackling flames.
He was chained to a rock, which was getting hotter and hotter and
the flames came closer and closer. Desperately he struggled against
the shackles holding his wrists and ankles, by the could not free
himself.
Then
a figure entered, who he recognised immediately as Caleb the ranger,
although he had metamorphosed into a red skinned demon, with horns
and a long tail, which whisked back and forth as as he walked. In his
hand he carried a long handled pitch fork, the four pointed end of
which were on fire.
What
is happening? ….. where am I?” cried the terrified Jordan.
When
the demon, which had once been the ranger, spoke, it did so with a
deep roar of a voice which sounded like an echo from hell “You are
in the Abyss Jordan Draper!” it snarled threateningly before
continuing “And I am the guardian of the Abyss. Sinners like you
are sent to me to be punished for the crimes committed in the mortal
world. I am here to torment, and punish, your little jock ass….”
it let out an evil gust of laughter, which was more a roar than a
laugh, before adding “FOR ETERNITY!!!
It
then advanced towards Jordan holding the flaming towards him.
GO
AWAY!!!” screamed Jordan in genuine terror “What are you going to
do with ….THAT??!!” 
 
This!”
growled the demonic fiend, as he jabbed the flaming fork into
Jordan’s naked and upraised rump.
Jordan
screamed in agony as the sharp, pointed , and red hot spikes of the
fork jabbed into his tender bottom and the flames scorched his skin
“AAAAGGGHHHHH!!! …. AAAAAAAGGGHHH!!”
FOR
ETERNITY!” roared the red demon “FOR ETERNITY!!” as he he
jabbed at Jordan with his flaming weapon again and again …
Jordan’s
body jerked from side to side as rolled from side to side of the bed,
he moaned and cried out in pain as he tried frantically to awake from
the terrible dreams, all featuring fiery assaults on his bare behind,
but he could not awake and the dreams persisted throughout the long
night. 
 
Across
the street, in his new home, Caleb Tartarus sat at his dining table,
a cruelly amused grin on his face, as he held the red hot tip of
burning cigarette after burning cigarette against the now blackened
behind of a plastic Ken doll, which bore a marked resemblance to
Jordan Draper.
On
the table lay a selection of photographs of Jordan, together with the
blue jean shorts which Jordan had discarded by the river back.
Finally
after stubbing out the last cigarette from the pack into the full
ashtray beside him, Caleb picked up a photo, showing Jordan shot from
behind, at a swimming event and in wet speedos. “I have plans for
you, pretty boy!” he murmured contentedly “plenty of plans ….!”
*********
 The
next morning Jordan was getting dressed and just beginning to pull on
a pair of tartan shorts, when he caught sight of his bare bottom in
the mirror. To his amazement it was snowy white and unmarked, gone
was the redness from the sunburn, gone were the multiple ant bites,
and gone were the bruises and marks left from the previous days
spanking.
How
was it possible that it had healed so quickly and so completely?, but
it had. Despite the punishment it had taken the day before, his
cute, tan line encircled, bottom was back to the white, smooth
skinned perfection it had been before the recent events had begun.
Across
the street, just out of Jordan’s earshot, a voice with a distinct
Hillbilly twang could be heard to mutter “As My Dear Mommy taught
me, you should never break your toys, especially the ones you want to
play with again!”
*****
Half
an hour later Jordan made his way downstairs, hoping to sneak out of
the house unseen. However, once again, he was out of luck, just as he
was about to slip out the back door, his father’s voice echoed down
the hall. “Come in here Jordan, I want to talk to you!”
Reluctantly,
and with a look of misery on his face, Jordan turned round and walked
into the living room, for where his father had called him. As he
entered the room he saw to his extreme annoyance that that he Dad was
not alone, as sitting on one of the sofas, now dressed in casual clothes and grinning broadly, was
Caleb the Ranger.
Ah
Jordan”, said his father “The College Medic phoned earlier “He
would like to see you today, rather than tomorrow, to continue your
medication!”
AWWW
No Dad!” moaned Jordon “Not Today, he just wants to stick me in
the butt with his God damn needles!”
Profanity
Jordan!!” snapped his father “You must go, it is for your own
good, and as I have heard reports that you attempted to skip your
last appointment, our new neighbour Officer Tartarus here has very
kindly agreed to accompany you, and make sure you get there!”
Jordan’s
mouth fell open in shock, he struggle to protest but no words came.
Hi
There Jordan” grinned Caleb the Ranger “I got a feelin’ you and
me’s going to be the best of buddies soon …”
To
be continued …..
***************

The Shaman’s Revenge – Part 4

The
Shaman’s Revenge (Part 4)

Click
here for previous episodes –
Prologue
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3 

It
was a moot point as to whether it was further evidence of Jordan’s
bad luck, the Shaman’s curse, or merely his own misdeeds, which
caused the handsome young swimmer’s cute and sensitive, 18 year old
bottom to become the target of two teams of hostile, testosterone
driven, and very muscular late adolescent jocks, but either way, the
outcome was very uncomfortable and humiliating.
On their own, each boy would be charming and polite young gentlemen,
however, as history’s great generals, dictators and sports team
coaches were very aware, when you place healthy and hot blooded young
men such as these into a group and then set them loose, other more
primal instincts can come to the fore.
The
two teams of College age athletes were now a feral pack, acting in
unison and with one aim, and that was to inflict well deserved and
overdue punishment on Jordan Draper’s butt! 
 
When
the, normally timid, Toby Suter produced his little tube of extra hot
embrocation, they were unanimously, and enthusiastically, of the view
that this was the ideal substance to be liberally applied to
Jordan’s, now well paddled, bottom. Only Jordan took the view that
this was an exceedingly bad idea, but alas (or maybe hooray!) he was
overwhelmingly outvoted.
Hold
the jerk down!” laughed Scott Colby, as he and two of his classmates
forced Jordan into what was unquestionably the most undignified and
revealing wrestling hold it was possible for a naked male to find
himself in. On his back with his legs, and, by extension, his butt
cheeks, well spread so that his most intimate body parts were on full
display!!
Toby
removed the cap from the tube and squeezed a large dollop of
embrocation into his palm, and then kneeled down in front of Jordan’s
inverted and uplifted bottom. As he did so, he thought of all the
times that this, previously dominant, jock had intimidated, bullied and
belittled him. Toby was not a naturally cruel person, but he had
suffered at the hands of Jordan Draper, so he felt only satisfaction
at getting his own back, by adding a further degree of heat to his
previous tormentors already well toasted posterior.
He
smeared equal quantities of the cream onto the palms of both hands
and then brought them down with two loud SMACKS onto Jordan’s
butt cheeks before proceeding to rub the embrocation into the skin,
ensuring that it was distributed to the whole area. Being straight
by nature, Toby would normally avoid looking at another male’s anus,
let alone touching it, but in this instance, such reluctance was
forgotten, with the result that every inch of the target area was
liberally coated, including the hypersensitive virgin ring at it’s
centre.
That’s good!!” cheered Scott “really rub it in – make sure he feels
it!!”
With
the help of a second teamate, Scott forced Jordan into a position
similar to that which is often called the “diaper position” with his
bottom the highest part of his body, thus offering Toby a perfect
target ont which to apply the hot embrocation.
It
took a few seconds before the warming effect of the embrocation began
to take effect, but then the heat began to spread, getting hotter and
hotter as it did so, and within moments Jordan’s already battered and
stinging bottom began to burn with a ferocity not dissimilar to
sitting on a red hot brazier.
YEEEEAAAAGHHHH!!”
screamed the singed Jock “It’s burning, its burning!!”
It’s
supposed to you wimp!” laughed Scott “That’s how it works!!
I
need to wash it off!” wailed Jordan “I need the showers!!!”
Oh
no!” interrupted Martin Clifford, who had been watching silently
until then, “the showers are not for liars and thieves … you
might contaminate them!”
For
a moment the athletes fell silent, struck by the obvious
anger
of Martin’s unexpected intervention, but then, as they remembered
that Martin and Rubin had been Jordan’s intended victims, they began
nodding in agreement.
No!
You can’t use the showers!” agreed Scott “the showers are for
gentlemen, not creeps like you!” … he laughed! “you can always
use the fountain in College garden… that will cool you off!”
And
out there everyone else will get to see your lovely red butt Jordan!”
grinned Martin
The
men all laughed, and seconds later, Jordan was lifted off his feet
and carried towards the door!! “No guys, please!” he pleased “At
least give me my clothes!”
You
don’t need clothes fella’!!! laughed a swimmer “Not with a great
bod like yours!”
Jordan
had always been proud of his body, but now the last thing he wanted
was for anyone to see him naked.
However,
within seconds a totally naked and protesting Jordan was pushed
through the main Lockeroom door, which backed onto the central
college hallway and the door slammed behind him. Desperate for some
clothes, he banged on it and attempted to reason with the men behind
it, but it soon became obvious they had no intention of letting him
back in, or letting him have his clothes.
Suddenly
a high pitched scream of surprise and delight echoed down the corridor
as two female tennis players walked in and spotted the naked swimmer.
Jordan
quickly clutched his hands over his exposed genitals, keenly aware
that he could not cover his red and very obviously just spanked
bottom. He had to find something to cover himself with, but first he
had an even greater priority, to ease the agonising burning in his
backside. In the locker room, Scott had suggested the fountain as a
joke, but now it seemed the only option. Still clutching his cock
and balls in his hands, Jordan ran down the corridor, passed the two
highly amused, and slightly aroused, girls out of the main door into
the quadrangle.
Despite
Jordan’s overblown sense of ego and the stomach turning humiliation
he felt at being exposed stark naked to the whole college with a
bright red spanked bottom, he now had one overriding goal which was
to ease the fiery sting in his behind, and wash off the burning
embrocation.
With
no balm or soothing cream to hand and with access to the locker room
shower barred to him, the tiny fountain in the campus gardens was the
only source of cool soothing water close at hand, he had to get to
it, and to do so as quickly as possible!
Students
of both genders (there were only two back then) gawped, laughed and
cheered as Jordan ran past them. They all ha no idea why Jordan was
naked, or why he had been so obviously spanked, but of course, the
full story would get to all of them very soon, and that knowledge
added hugely to Jordan’s misery,
To
his horror, when he reached the gardens, he found that the fountain
had been turned off whilst maintenance was carried out to the pipes,
however there was still water in the tiny lilly pond around it. That would
have to do. 

 He jumped into the pond, gripping the edges with his
hands and quickly lowered his punished and burning bottom into the
water.
Unfortunately
for Jordan, in his desperation to cool the sting in his tush he
lowered it much too quickly, without considering that there might be
something other than water and lilies in the pond.
For
reasons best known to the dark humour of fate, and maybe also to he
demons conjured up by and old East European warlock, an old rusty
child’s toy had at some point fallen into the pond and. Over time
had become wedged into the rocks at the bottom.

This
was no flimsy modern toy, crumbling from built in obsolescence, but
rather it was a solid 1950’s toy, well made, and made to last. It
was, by the standards of the time, a boy’s toy, a sturdy metal truck with a
disproportionately large towering crane on its back. Due to the
position in which the truck had become planted in the rocks, the hard
metal crane now pointed skywards towards the surface like some
submerged and rampant phallus, and for our heterosexual young
anti-hero, that symbolism was about to become a painful and
humiliating reality.
As
Jordan’s cherry pink bottom descended rapidly into the water it
landed straight onto the the rigid and erect crane which rammed
straight up through his tight rectum and deep inside him.
Jordan
leaped from the water as if shot from a cannon, let out a high
pitched howl and jumped up and down round the garden clutching his
spanked, scorched and now anally penetrated rump.
As
many virgins discover, the first time can be painful, and this was
certainly the case for Jordan. 
In
so many ways since his ill fated encounter with the old Shaman,
Jordan was really, to use his own colourful idiom, …. Fucked.
**********
Meanwhile,
on another part of the university complex Chase Colby was up to no
good! Using his one free hand, the handsome 20 year old Caretaker’s
assistant silently unfastened his belt and unzipped his tight blue
jeans, before reaching inside, grabbing hold of his rapidly
stiffening dick, and gripping it tightly.
His
other hand was fully occupied holding his dad’s prized new Betamax
video camera which he had borrowed for the purpose. From his
position kneeling in the small crawlspace about the College locker
rooms, he could see directly into the girls showers through a hole he
had made there a few weeks before. The video camera was aimed
directly at the hole, as the girls lacrosse team had just finished their
practice and would soon be nude and using those showers.
Of
course, Chase was supposed to be at the other end of the crawlspace,
above the boy’s locker room and getting rid of a hornet’s nest which
had been causing concerns to the faculty, and to his boss, Wil
Bryant, the Caretaker. 
“Fuck the wasps!” he thought, who
cared if a few posh rich boys got stung, he had more important and
lucrative things to do.
Chase
had made almost $200 selling copies of the last two videos he had
filmed through that same hole, but his customer were demanding
clearer and more “intimate” images, and Chase was more than
willing to oblige, he wanted to see that too.
Suddenly
Chase almost lost his balance when a pulse of excitement shuddered
though him as he recognised the person who had just stepped into
sight, and into camera range. Patsy Wagner was not only a smoking
hot chick but she had the biggest breasts, or “juggs” as Chace
charmingly referred to them, in the College. Chase shifted position
in an attempt to get a better shot, his customers wanted more than
just boobs. If Patsy moved a little to the right, he would see her
…. yes …. yes … any second now he would see her pu… DAMN!
That flat chested Darlene Morse had got in the way! Nobody wanted to
see her, she looked like a guy!!
Chase
leaned further forward anxious to get a better view of Patsy Wagner’s
lower body. Meanwhile his right hand was moving back and forth along
the now rigid shaft of his cock. He tried not to move it too
quickly, he didn’t want to cum too soon, like he so often did, that
would ruin everything, like it usually did. However, it was getting
more and more difficult to resist the increasingly insistent urges
gaining hold of his fit young body.
It
was at that crucial moment that Darlene Morse stepped out of the
shower and Patsy Wager was momentarily exposed in all her naked
glory. Alas, what would otherwise have been the money shot was lost
in a blur, as Chase immediately came in his hand and dropped the
camera in his excitement.
The
camera hit the floor of the crawlspace with a loud bang which
immediately announced Chase’s presence to the women below.
There
is somebody there!” shouted one girl, as she and the others ran out
of the showers and retrieved their towels “Someone is watching us …
look, there’s a spy hole!!”
Never
brave in a crisis, Chase panicked. His impulse was to get himself,
and his camera, as far away from the spyhole as he could, as quickly
as he could, which was not easy in the cramped space he was in.
Bending double he backed across the crawlspace in the direction of
the area above the men’s locker rooms, a location where he had a
legitimate reason to be.
However,
as observant readers will recall, but Chase had forgotten, only a few
minutes earlier he had unfastened his belt and unzipped his jeans,
and, as can be the way with gravity, they picked the most inopportune
moment to fall down around his knees. Given the speed and awkward
nature of his attempted escape, this caused him to trip, fall over
backwards and slip feet first down a sloping surface towards the
eves. He had picked up quite a speed as his feet hit the panels at
the edge of the crawlspace, just beneath the eves of the roof.
As
an unwise economy measure during the construction of the building,
inferior timber had been used, and the wood gave way creating a hole,
through which the lower half of Chase’s body slipped before getting
stuck half way, with his top half still inside the crawlspace and the
lower half hanging outside.
As
his jeans were now around his knees, and as he had not bothered to
wear underpants, the upper part of Chase’s legs and his bare bottom
were not fully exposed on the outside of the building.
 
Although,
uncomfortable, embarrassing and inconvenient, this alone was not
Chase’s only misfortune. Due to another of those strange
coincidences, which had recently begun to plague Jordan Draper’s
life, the hole though which Chase Colby’s lower body was protruding,
just happend to be mere inches from the hornets nest he was supposed
to have removed. Furthermore, his bare and exposed white bottom was
in direct line of the entrance of the nest, through which angrily
buzzing hornets were already appearing.
Chase
Struggled to free himself, but this merely caused an already
precariously placed beam to collapse onto him, pinning him in place.
Chases
first thought was how embarrassing and uncomfortable his position
was, but when the first hornet landed on his bottom he realised that
his situation was considerably worse than he had first thought.
Chase
frantically reached out to try and find something solid which he
could grip in order to pull himself free, but the fragile and rotten
timber gave way when any pressure was placed on it. The frenzied
movement also caused his bottom to jerk around which antagonized the
already angry hornet. 
Within moments a hornet had stung one cheek,
whilst a second stung the top of his thigh, these were merely the
vanguard and were swiftly followed by a third and then a fourth
hornet, each jabbing their venom laden stingers into Chase’s exposed
butt flesh, sending a stream of molten lava like fury into the
unlucky young hunk.
Chase
yelled out in pain, wriggling helplessly as a cloud of hostile
insects descended on his defenceless and very exposed bottom.
CHASE
COLBY! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!!

Wil Bryant’s voice boomed out from behind him “I cannot trust you
to do even a simple job! … look what you’ve done! now you have
wrecked the building!”
Will
had come to investigate reports of a peeper in the girls locker room,
and had not been prepared for the sight of his young assistant’s legs
and bare bottom sticking out of a hole in the roof of the building
surrounded by stinging insects. He hurried to the side of the
building and climbed the ladder Chase had used in order to access the
crawlspace above the lockers.
Being
a strong man, it did not take long for Wil to pull Chase free, and on
spotting the video camera, it took him even less time to put two and
two together and realise that Chase was the peeper whom the women’s
lacrosse team had reported.
Will
picked up the camera and turned to Chase, who was wailing and
frantically rubbing his hornet stung backside “We have some matters
to discuss young man!” he said
the
two men both climbed out of the tight roof space, and upon reaching
the ground, Will took hold of Chase by the ear and then led the
miserable young apprentice to the stock room behind the Caretaker
office, at which point Will opened a draw and brought out a small
wooden paddle baring the, now particularly fitting, slogan “Dad’s
Little Stinger”
I
think you remember this from the time we had the little issue with
the missing petty cash!” he growled “This is even more serious,
you could get the college into serious trouble by filming the young
ladies!”
B..but
Boss, you can’t paddle me I’ve been sung on the butt!” groaned
Chase “It sure hurts like it’s on fire!”
Either
you take a paddling from me, or your Dad and the sheriff will find
out what you were doing with that, there, video filming camera!”
replied Will, knowing full well that, even at 20, Chase was terrified
of his construction worker father, and also that, with his record,
his handsome young apprentice could not afford another run in with
the law. He had Chase at his mercy and intended to take full advantage of
that fact.
Aw!
Boss please don’t!” protested Chase, his voice taking on the
plaintive whine of a much younger lad “Dad will kill me!”
Well then take of them jeans and bend over!” 
 
Chase’s
poorly educated mind strained to think of some clever words which
might defend his sore bottom from Wil’s paddle, but none came to him.
Reluctantly he removed his sneakers and blue jeans, and then, wearing
nothing but his sock, Chase padded across the room and bent over in
front of Wil as instructed.
My!”
murdered Wil “Those hornet stings look sore! nasty critters those
South American hornets, real poisonous varmits ….. You’ll need to
see Dr Schults later, he’ll probably put you on a course of shots to
avoid infection!” 
He grinned to himself, he knew the good doctor’s
ways of dealing with handsome, wayward youths, and like Coach
Amundsen, Will fully approved of those methods! “Yup, you will need
a course of shots in that butt o’ yours…. maybe for a month, just
to be sure … I will speak to the doc after this!”
With
that, he raised the paddle and brought it down with a loud WHACK! on
Chase’s upraised and hornet stung bottom. Poor Chase yelled in pain
as the hard wood collided with the fresh stings which peppered his
butt cheeks, his video filming plans were going to cost him dearly.
As
the paddle whacks echoed around the room, Chase had other thing on
his mind rather than the night before, when he had drunk beer and
played loud punk music into the early hours, ignoring his old East
European neighbour hammering on the floor of the apartment above him.
It
was Chase’s bad luck and to some degree Chase’s own fault that, now
he had evoked his ancient powers, the increasingly grouchy old Shaman
had decided to spread his revenge around.
TO
BE CONTINUED

 

The JockPunishers – Episode 1 “Logan and the Chilli Crushers”

The
JockBusters – Episode 1
Logan
and the Chilli Crushers
Adam
Murphy, Darren Galloway and Todd Singer, had first met at their local
gym after many years during which all three, being shy and studious
boys, with limited skills on the sports field, had been the victims
of bullying and hazing by handsome, athletic jocks who had made their
lives generally miserable.
This
pattern had continued when they became young adults, and by pure
coincidence, all three had finally concluded that the best way to
deal with the ongoing harassment was to toughen up and fight back, it
was for this reason that they had joined the gym.
The
trio soon became good friends, and it was not long before they began
sharing their experiences, and it was then they discovered how much
they had in common, both in terms of what had happened to them, and
also a shared desire to exact revenge, not only for themselves, but
also for other victims of bullies.
Together
they decided that it was time for payback, and that the handsome,
arrogant, jocks and athletes who believed their superior strength and
good looks gave them the automatic right to torment weaker guys would
find themselves on the other side of the punishment, and it would be
they who would be getting their cute butts kicked, spanked and
generally abused.
And
thus the Jock Punishers were born.
The
first unfortunate jock to encounter justice at the hands of the Jock
Punishers was Logan Fairchild. Logan’s family had made a fortune
importing hot chillies from the Far East, bought for a pittance from
poor farmers and sold at ten times cost price in America.
Despite
being a talented swimmer, with a great physique, Logan’s grades would
never have earned him a place at college, had his family money not
eased his path.
Although
Logan’s athletic good looks made him stand out from the crowd, he
also stood out by virtue of the sheer unpleasantness of his
character. Things in life had always come easy for Logan, however,
instead of being grateful, his good luck had made him arrogant and
selfish, features which, together with his innate cruel streak made
him the ideal subject for the Jockpunishers’ brand of justice.
Logan
had often bullied smaller, weaker guys, however, he had also
developed a nasty habit of hitting his girlfriends. This was getting
more violent each time it happened, and his last girlfriend, Mary
Jane Danvers, had ended up in hospital after he got drunk and beat
her up.
Of
course, as usual, Logan’s Daddy’s money had saved him from the
consequences of his actions. An expensive, smooth talking, lawyer
had made any charges go away, and the girl’s family had been paid
off. So, once again, Logan thought he’d got away with it and that he
could carry on being top Jock on campus, as if nothing had happened.
The Jockpunishers however, had an entirely different plan for him!
____________________________________
After
a late night swim, Logan was in the locker room shower, he thought he
was alone, however, he was wrong.
Intent
on cleaning his private parts in advance of an anticipated hot date
with a new girlfriend later that evening, Logan did not notice that
three shadowy figures had entered the room and were quietly creeping
towards him.
It
was not until they were standing right behind him they he realised
someone was there! He spun round to find three men, all dressed in
black, grinning menacingly at him. All three held what appeared to
be large Paddle ball pats, with the ball and string removed.
What
the fuck do you perverts want?”! He snapped
Your
Ass!” replied one of the men. As he delivered a resounding SMACK to
Logan’s bare, wet, butt cheek!
OWW!
Fuck You!” shouted Logan, trying hard to hide how nervous the
malevolently grinning men made him feel. “Who are you?”
We
are your worst nightmare Logan!” replied one of the grinning men,
“We are going to give you what you deserve!” He lifted the paddle
he was holding “and that means you will not be sitting down for a
while!”
Like
most bullies, Logan was a natural coward, strong and aggressive when
dealing with a woman or a lone and weaker male, he reacted with
increasingly terrified panic when confronted with three strong men.
Guys…
guys, … I don’t know what your beef is, but can we talk about
this?”
No
chance!” Came the reply, as the men grabbed him and and pulled him,
protesting, to the athletic medical training room next to the
showers.
They
pushed him face down across a training table and tied his hands and
feet together, before securing them to the table.
Logan
realised there was no point trying to argue with the three men so he
tried calling for help “HELP! … HELP ME!!” he yelled.
Moments
later, he was silenced when a sock was pushed into his mouth and held
there with a white cotton gag.
Struggling
against his binds, Logan’s eyes widened with nervous bemusement when
one of the men took a plastic bag from his pocket and emptied a small
collection of chillies onto one of the training benches. Logan
recognised them as Thai Demon Chillies, a particularly hot type of
chilli pepper, which his family imported from the Far East.
All
will become clear!” grinned one of the men, noticing Logan’s
bemused expression.
We
are here to punish you Logan” continued another of the black clad
men. “I doubt you have ever been really punished in your life, and
you have got away with many things, now its payback time!”
Comeuppance!”
added the third man.
We
are going to ensure that you pay for what you did to people like Mary
Jane and all the others you have abused and bullied in the past!”
And
we decided to make it a poetically appropriate punishment. We will
punish the part of you which most symbolises your character, and we
will use the very things which enabled your family to buy you out of
trouble! Continued the first man, as he picked up a chillie.
We
are going to demonstrate an inventive new method of crushing
chillies!” he laughed “and we are going to use your pretty ass to
do it!”
Then,
while the other two men held Logan still the first man reached out
his hand and parted the cheeks of Logan’s smooth white buttocks,
exposing the young jock’s tight, pink, and, until then, virgin anus. 
 
He
inserted the pointed end of the chilli into the tiny, puckered,
orifice, which closed tightly around it, so that the other end of the
chilli, with the tip of green stem protruded upwards, poking out,
like a periscope, from between the snowy white cheeks.
Due
to his fear, Logan’s muscles tightened, involuntarily gripping the
chilli even tighter, so that it became impossible to shake it free,
even if the men had let him try. 
 
The
first man in black, then held the bat under Logan’s face “What
d’ya’ thinka’ our chilli crushers fella’?” he laughed “d’ya’
think they’ll catch on?” 
 
NNNMMMMNNNH!”
stammered Logan through his gag, as, the realisation of what the men
had planned began to dawn on him.
The
men then took up position behind Logan, before each in turn raised
their paddles in the air and, one by one, brought them down with a
WHACK! On the unlucky jock’s tender bare behind, as Logan struggled
in a vain attempt to avoid the blows.
At
first the resilient chilli remained intact, the whacks from the
paddles simply forcing it more deeply into Logan’s quivering rectum.
Then, as the men continue to aim swats at Logan, bit by bit the
chilli began to split and break up, leaking juice and fiery seeds
onto Logan’s exposed and sensitive skin.
Logan
had a very low tolerance of any form of discomfort, and as the
bruising whacks from the large hard paddles sent shock waves of pain
shooting into his buttocks he was convulsed in agony. However, it
soon got worse, as the burning chilli juice and even hotter seeds
began to have their effect on the most private and delicate region
causing a searing burn, not dissimilar from what he imagined having a
red hot poker inserted into him might feel like.
As
one chilli was destroyed the men replaced it with another from their
small supply, until all had been thoroughly crushed into their
unfortunate captive’s anus.
By
the time they had finished Logan was moaning and weeping through his
gag, as tears ran down his face. His butt cheeks and ass hole a
searing furnace of pain.
The
Jockpunishers were satisfied that this arrogant and cruel young jock
had been suitably punished for his crimes, but they had not quite
finished with him yet.
*****
The
next morning the students arrived at college to a most unusual
spectacle, of Logan’s final humiliation as he dangled, bare assed
from the college flagpole displaying a sign announcing that he beat
up girls, and inviting his fellow students to take a swat at him with
a conveniently placed paddle beneath him.
Logan’s
battered butt cheeks remained red for the rest of the day, but it was
almost a week before the burning sensation in his little pink rosebud
finally faded. Even so, it took much longer than that for the
scalding pain to his ego to subside, only to be lit again from time
to time, as the memory of his humiliation took it’s place in college
folk law and returned to remind him.
The
Jockpunishers had brought justice to one deserving jock, but their
work was not done, there were many more handsome, spoilt and arrogant
young jocks in need of punishment, and the three avengers intended to
bring it to them.
_________________________________________
If
the JockPunishers prove popular they will return now and then as an
occasional series