The Adventures of Sore Bottomed Finn ( Prologue)

The Adventures of Sore Bottomed Finn

Prologue

Finn was in a furious mood as he sped along the open country road on the expensive blue motorbike his doting mother had bought him on his 18th birthday the previous year. It was one of the various luxuries he had become accustomed to while living at home in the city, and one of the few he had ben able to bring with him after being exiled to live with his step-father in what he liked to term “Rubesville”.

His banishment from urban life had been a condition set by the court, as his last chance to avoid a custodial sentence, following various encounters with law and order. It was safe to say this was proving a challenging culture shock for a pampered and spoilt brat like Finn. Not only did he have a low opinion of his Step father, who was nowhere near as generous or tolerant as his wealthy mother, but he lived in a rural backwater with none of the excitement and diversions the city had offered Finn and which had led to his entanglements with the police.

As he turned a corner, he noticed a path leading off the road at the entrance to which was a large sign which stated PRIVATE – No Trespassing. Finn in his short eighteen years had not been accustomed to being denied anything hence the sign had the duel effect of both raising his interest and irritating him.

He was curious as what the secret was at the end of the path and annoyed at being told he could not see it. Characteristically, he chose to ignore the notice, swerved off the road and steered his bike down the bumpy country path. He was stubbornly determined to see the forbidden sight at the end of the path.

After he had travelled less than half a mile the path led him to a forest at the edge of which was a small lake and more signs one instructing him that swimming was forbidden, and another, which was half hidden by foliage, announced “NO TRESPASSING – Violators will be …” the rest of which was obscured by leaves. However, it was the no swimming sign which interested him more.

Being told he could not do something inevitably made him more determined to so it. Hence, after leaving his bike next to a pile of rocks, he quickly stripped off his clothes in order to indulge in the countryside pursuit of skinny dipping.

He ran to the edge of the lake before stripping off his underwear, then, when fully naked he plunged in.

The water was colder than he had expected on such a warm day, but he soon got used to that , and find the cool water pleasantly refreshing. However, it was also very salty, which surprised him, but did not concern him as he had spent his childhood summers playing in the salty water off his grandparent’s Florida beach house.

Although, as an occasional athlete, Finn excelled at tennis and field sports, he was also a competent and confident swimmer, and he easily moved through the glassy water until he was in the deeper water towards the centre of the lake.

It was there that he was to discover the cause of the lake’s high salt content. Although it was hidden by the trees and a small range of hills, the lake was in fact only a few miles from the edge of the ocean by which it was connected by two tidal rivers one above ground, and the other subterranean.

Only weeks before, a huge ocean storm had washed nany thousands of gallons of sea water into the lake together with various sea creatures, including a small swarm of jellyfish, and it was with these opaque but electrical little creatures that Finn was to make unwelcome contact. The contact was particularly unwelcome for Finn, for it was his bare bottom which one brushed against with a stinging result as a forceful electrical current surged through his exposed skin.

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The Singeing of Crispin Cherrybutt (Part Four – pt 2)

The
Singeing of Crispin Cherrybutt 
(Part Four – pt 2)
Ignoring
the handsome older knight, Tybalt’s, anxious warnings Crispin had
continued to curse and threaten the monks, now, too late, he realised
what a mistake he had made. He had disregarded his new friends plea
for him to stop, and now he would pay a painful price.
A
group of the monks took hold of Crispin and unshackled him from the
alter, and then dragged him from the room, leaving a sad eyed Tybalt
still kneeling, strapped to the table, in a most undignified manner,
with the remnants of the fire root phallus still protruding from his
rear.
The
grinning monks, half dragged and half carried the struggling and
protesting Crispin down seemingly endless corridors, before they
reached an open courtyard at the back of the great building.
Having
become accustomed to the gloom inside the monastery, Crispin blinked
in the sunlight as he took in his new surroundings. In the middle of
the courtyard were a number of dome like objects, made from platted
wicker. Crispin did not recognise the structures, but as he was
dragged closer to them he could hear the buzzing of bees. Earlier he
had not understood Tybalt’s warning “They will take you to the
hives!” but now his fellow captives words echoed ominously in his
head.
The
monks then roughly held him down as they tied ropes around his legs,
just below his knees, and then attached them tightly to his wrists.
When
he was fully secured they began tugging on the ropes, which were
looped over a large wooden pole protruding from the side of the
building, and quickly hoisted Crispin up with his legs in the air,
with his lower body and bottom dangling below, now mere inckes from
the wicker hives.
Then
the older Monk began to chant in a high, almost “sing-song”
voice, while another monk handed him a colourful glazed ceramic jug.
The first monk then produced a small wooden batten from his cassock,
and began stirring the contents of the jug. When he took it out it
was coated with golden honey.
He
then used the wooden batten to smear the honey all the cheeks of
Crispin’s bottom until it glistened gold in the sunlight.
Crispn
was outraged, yet confused at this latest humiliation, why on Earth
would they cover his backside with fresh honey?!! Whatever their
plan, he knew he would not enjoy it.
Ha!
Sir Knight!” chuckled the Monk “Now you have a golden arse!!”
his comment eliciting cruel laughter from the other monks “Shall we
see what out little friends think of it?” he asked before taking
hold of a paddle which one of the younger monks had brought with
them, and proceeded to hit the sides of the hives.
Instantly
a large swarm of angrily buzzing bees cam streaming out of the tiny
entrance, like a furious black cloud.
The
monks retreated to a safe distance to watch the entertainment, as the
bees become immediately attracted by the sweet honey and began
swarming round Crispin’s dangling bottom.
To
his increasing horror, Crispin now realised the purpose of the honey
“NO PLEASE!!” he cried “UNTIE ME … PLEASE!!!”
The
sadistic monks just laughed and clapped their hands with delight.
The monks were enjoying the spectacle, and as Tybalt was still
shackled to the central altar with a fire root dildo up his bum,
nobody was going to come to Crispin’s aid.
Crispin
cried out in terror as the first bee landed on his his honey coated
rump, at fist of just crawled over the surface feeding on the honey,
but then, alarmed by Crispin’s horrified shiver reacted by
instinctively stinging Crispin’s already highly sensitive butt cheek
.
Seconds
later a second bee landed, and then a third, and a fourth. Each
arrival followed the same pattern, with Crispin receiving repeated
painful stings in what had become the most tender part of his body.
Our
little friends will teach you a lesson in respect young gallant!”
called the older monk, as the others cheered their approval.
Realising
that sudden movements were disturbing the bees and making them sting
him, Crispin tried with all his resolve to stay still, but it proved
impossible. His instinctive repulsion at having insects crawling on
him combined with the fact that he was dangling uncomfortably in the
air, caused him to shake and tremble involuntarily, and each quiver
was greeted with a sharp sting from a startled bee.
Over
the following hours Crispin would be sting a hundred and more times
by visiting bees, attracted by the sweet and glistening honey.
Meanwhile the monks eventually returned to their ungodly devotions,
leaving Crispin dangling above the hives, and surrounded by buzzing
bees.
Later,
as night fell, there was no respite for the unlucky young knight,
for, although many bees returned to their hives as the daylight
faded, they were replaced by other stinging insects which were
similarly attracted by the remaining honey still covering Crispin’s
cute, but very sore bottom.
As
Crispin hung there through the long and uncomfortable Knight, he
wondered with dread what other catastrophes and humiliations lay
ahead on his ill starred adventure!
It
would not be long before he found out!! 
_________________

Note: Sorry for repeating a
punishment previously inflicted on Boy in the Sting of the Jungle,
but it was requested, and I felt that Crispin deserved it!!
 
.

The Shaman’s Revenge – Part 11

Bobby
O’Rourke was doing his daily training, as a conscientious youth he
trained for at least two hours every day, whatever the weather.
Coach had told him that if he continued training he could be entered
for the state championships, after which the possibilities were
endless for a dedicated and ambitious young athlete like Bobby.
Bobby was determined to succeed, to represent his state and maybe
even his country, and make his family proud in the process.
Bobby’s
family were already proud of him, for it was not only at athletics
that he excelled, he had studied hard in class and had earned a
scholarship to the college, where hw was proving himself to be a star
pupil in many ways. It was widely believed that Bobby had a bight
future ahead of him.
Bobby
has already run for over ten miles when he reached a road junction
leading to Main Street. It was there that he noticed old Mrs Rush
with her walking cane, nervously hovering on the edge of the street,
apparently awaiting an opportunity to cross. 
 Bobby knew the elderly
lady, who was an acquaintance of his grandmother’s, had poor eyesight
so he rushed to her side, and after taking care not to alarm her, he
reassuringly took hold of her arm and kindly assisted her crossing,
whilst at the same time signalling to oncoming traffic to be patient
whilst Mrs Rush made her unsteady crossing.
Once
they were safely on the other side of the road, Bobby waved away the
old lady’s words of gratitude, wished her good day and continued on
his way .
It
was safe to say that, in Bobby O’Rourke you could not wish to find a
nineteen year old athlete who was less like Jordan Draper, except,
of course, in one regard, Like Jordan, Bobby was a very handsome
young man. (He would not have earned his place in Sore Bottomed Guys
were he not)
Remembering
he had to study for an examination, Bobby turned off the street and
cut through an alleyway behind some apartment buildings just in time
to hear the distant sound of breaking glass.
As
he ran down the alleyway, Bobby noticed two young boys running
towards him. He look little notice of them, until, as they passed
him, one of the boys tossed the soccer ball he was carrying towards
him and called out as he ran past “Here buddy!” he said “Look
after this”.
Taken
by surprise, Bobby instinctively caught the ball as it flew towards.
Bemused, he stopped running, and still holding the ball, turned to
watch the boys disappearing into the distance.
It
was then that a loud voice with a distinct East European accent rang
out behind him “I haff warmed you brats one hundred times not to
play your silly football games here!”
 
Bobby
turned to see an elderly gentleman with a bright red face glowering
at him furiously. “I beg your pardon Sir ….?!” he said
You
haff not my pardon you damn American vandal!
” roared the old
man “You haff broke my window with your silly ball ……I haff
warned you what would happen
” the elderly man was shaking with
fury as he spoke “You vill pay for this brat! And you vill not
like it!
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Excuse
me Sir!” replied Bobby trying as hard as he could to calm the old
man. “You are mistaken, I did not break any windows, I have only
just arrived…..!”
Do
not lie to me you vandal!
” the old man snarled “You think
I am a stupid old man, your guilt is before my eyes, you are holding
the silly ball in your hands! How dare you lie to me, you vil pay
twice …. ten fold, you vill pay for that!!”
Bobby
looked down and saw that he was still holding the ball which the
young boy had tossed to him “b…but …I..” he stammered
attempting to explain
GO!!
exploded the elderly and furious man “Get out of here, or you
will pay even more dearly!
Trained
to obey his elders and anxious not to upset the elderly gentleman,
who appeared close to a seizure, even more than he already was, Bobby
did as he was told, he put down the ball and looked at the old man
“Goodbye Sir!” he said “I hope you get your window fix….!”
GO!
snarled Goran, for it was he “Get out of here are you vill pay
even more than you already vill, your little brat bottom vill pay!!

Bobby
obeyed instantly, and ran off down the down the alley way, the old
man’s words still echoing in his head.
Bobby
was still thinking about the elderly gentleman’s threats to his
“little brat bottom” as he turned into the park, as a further
detour on his way home, until his attention was was caught by the a
plaintive meowing sound from above him. He looked up and saw a
kitten sitting on the branch of a tree he was passing. The poor
creature had obviously climbed up the tree, but was now stuck and
unable to get down.
Among
Bobby’s many admirable qualities, he was an animal lover, and it was
not in his nature to leave a helpless creature in distress.
Don’t
worry little Buddy!!” he called “I will come and get you!”
Without
a further thought, Bobby climbed up onto the first branch which was a
few feet below the kitten and began clambering along that branch in
order to get to a place where he could reach the kitten. 
 
It
was then that he heard a loud ripping noise, he looked back over
shoulder and saw, to his immense annoyance, that his tight running
shorts had snagged on a small branch a,d the whole of the seat had
been ripped away, exposing his bare white bottom to the world.
Fu
… Drat!” murmured Bobby stifling a cuss”how am I supposed to
get home like this?” he was the aware of an even more perplexing
problem, for some reason he could not move from the position he was
I. He could move his arms and kick his legs, but it was as if his
firm muscular young stomach was glued to the branch. This was all
very weird!
A
loud buzzing sound announced a most unwelcome arrival in the form of
a the biggest hornet Bobby had ever seem, which was heading straight
towards his exposed and upturned bottom like some form precision
guided missile. The hornet landed squarely in the centre of Bobby’s
vulnerable rump, its thin gripping legs on either side of the cleft
between the cheeks, jabbed it’s stinger into the tender and tightly
sloping flesh between the magnificent pearly white globes of his his
19 year old behind, and ejected a sting of truly agonizing strength,
sending a pure white hot bolt of pain deep into Bobby’s rear.
Bobby
let out an agonized howl of pain which echoed round the empty park
and again just managed to stifle back the worse swear word he knew.
Why on earth had a dumb insect done that? 
 
He
look back and to his mounting horror, saw a second hornet buzzing
towards their chosen target, seemingly with the same intention as its
earlier comrade. Bobby struggled frantically, but still he could not
move from the branch or escape.
No!”
he yelled “Help me …. Please help!!
+++
Bobby’s
cries for help, though ear piercing, were not loud enough to reach
the Draper home, but even if they had they would have been downed out
by the loud whacks and yelps of pain which were flooding out onto the
street. It the middle of the room, Me Draper was swinging his shiny
new wooden paddle, and gift he had received from his new friend and
neighbour Caleb Tartarus, the Ranger, and bringing it down with
repeated loud WHACKS! On Jordan’s now very red bottom, as his naked
son bent over in front of him.
Seated
comfortably on the sofa, was Ranger Tartarus, a grin of satisfaction
on his face. Having dragged the reluctant Jordan back from the
hospital, and informed his father of the boy’s exploits, he was sure
that Mr Draper’s new paddle would be seeing a lot of action over the
next few weeks and months.
Things
were working out just as the were supposed to.
Later
that day, Tartarus took a stroll round the Town, he was just
beginning to enjoy his visit there, and certainly did not want to
leave just yet. It had been a very long time since he he had been
called back from that deep are fiery place where had been dwelling,
to carry out the wishes of those who had summons him, and he had
almost forgotten how much fun it was.
As
he reached Capsaicin College, he made his way though a narrow gap by
the changing room, and the sight that met him served to re-enforce is
wish to stay in town.
Taylor
Hunter was another member of the swimming team, and although not as
accomplished a swimmer as Jordan, was not less physically appealing.
Another trait which the handsome Taylor share with Jordan was that
his attractive appearance did not reflect his personality, at that
was significantly less appealing. At that moment Taylor was in the
act of leaving a strikingly unfriendly, and some might say somewhat
hateful message for the team coach, Thor Amundsen.
As
it was, again, such a hot day, Taylor was wearing nothing except a
pair of skimpy yellow cotton shorts, which clung most enticingly to
to curves on the lad’s bubble cheeked bottom. Tartarus’s eyes
travelled down Taylor’s back, and rested on the seat of those thin
cotton short. His lips curled into a cruel grin. “Yes” he
murmured to himself, I think I will stay around for a while longer!” 
 .
The Shaman had conjured up dark forces to carry out his revenge, but as
others have found before him, once they are called, the powers
unleashed create ripples which have a wider impact than just on their
intended target.
The
Shaman’s Revenge is not going away.

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 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 ……….

The Sting of the Jungle – Boy’s Return

 The
Sting of the Jungle -Boy’s Return

The
airplane was into it’s thirteenth hour of the flight across the
Atlantic, and Boy was now unbearably bored. True to form, he had also
made himself extraordinarily unpopular with the flight crew and his
fellow passengers with is arrogant and rude bad behaviour and
constant demands.
It
had reached the point where most of the other passengers had moved to
seats as far away from this handsome, practically naked but
chronically unpleasant young man.
Eventually,
when Boy could not bare the boredom any longer he called out to the
flight attendant “How much longer is this Goddam flight?!” he
demanded.
The
flight attendant looked at Boy with hardly disguised dislike “We
land in Kinshasa in an hour … S ..” she gritted her teeth “Sir!”
No
you stupid moron!” snapped Boy “What time to we land at the
Jungle airport?”
This
flight does not land at The Jungle airport” she replied “We fly
over the jungle, direct to Kinshasa”
WHAT!!”
shouted Boy “I need to get off at the Jungle airport!!”
We
can not land at the jungle” replied the attendant “this plane is
too large for the jungle runway!” she frowned with exasperation,
this was the most infuriating passenger she had ever encountered “It
is quite clear on your ticket that this is a non-stop flight, you
will need to get a connecting flight back to the jungle!”
Of
course, Boy had spent all the money he had managed with him when he
escaped from the city, and could not afford a second flight. With
characteristic truculance he decided to try and bully the flight crew
into landing at the jungle stop.”I demand to see the pilot!” he
shouted “I need to get off this plane in the jungle!!”
You
can’t see the pilot!” sighed the attendant “He’s busy … you
know … flying the plane!”
Take
me to him!” snapped boy, leaping from his seat and turning towards
the cockpit.
Realising
that Boy seemed serious, the flight attendant called over two male
flight attendants to assist her “This …….. passenger failed to
read his ticket correctly, and is demanding we drop him off in the
jungle!” she said.
The
two male attendants had been observing Boy’s rude and obnoxious
behaviour, ever since he started acting up after about an hour into
the flight, and new he was going to be difficult. However, at first
they began patiently trying to reason with him.
Sitting
in am aisle seat in the next row to Boy Herman Kettering had watched
the scene unfolding. As a gay man, despite Boy’s outrageous
behaviour, he could not fail to be struck by how hot physically the
young blonde hunk was. This was especially obvious given Boy’s
limited attire of only a jockstrap and a pair or white socks.
Herman
was also a keen collector of male spanking videos and a fan of the
JockSpank blog, so when Boy stood up his eye was immediately drawn to
the lad’s perfectly formed bare white bottom, framed with the straps
of his jockstrap, and he began to imagine all the different forms of
discipline he would just love to inflict of that tempting object.
It
was the ongoing curse of Boy’s life, that so many people
instinctively wanted to spank him.
Meanwhile
the two flight attendants were also both becoming drawn to the
prospect of an act of violence against Boy. Even for two men so well
used to dealing with difficult customers it was not long before they
were both totally exasperated with this semi-naked but highly self
opinionated youth.
Finally,
their exasperation turned to anger, when Boy actually attempted to
storm the cockpit demanding to speak to the pilot. The men grabbed
hold of him and began to drag him towards the back of the plane. It
was only then, too late that Boy began to understand that just maybe
he had again gone too far.
Okay
fella’” snarled one of the men “You want to land in the jungle?
Well, we can arrange that!!” he was so angry that, whilst his
colleague held onto Boy, he literally ripped one of the attendant
seats from the wall, leaving the back portion of the seat still
screwed to the wall. The men then tied Boy to the seat in a sitting
position, with his, jockstrap framed, bare bottom sticking out of the
gap at the back where it had been pulled from the wall.
As
Boy struggled against the ropes attaching his wrists and thighs to
the seat, the men began attachomh a parachute to the chair arms.
“What the fuck ate you doing?!!!” yelled Boy.
The
men did not answer, but the look of thunderous fury on their faces
told him, that, whatever it was they were doing, he was not going to
like it!!
One
of the men proceeded to turn a handle which opened a hatch door in
the side of the aircraft and all three of them were hit by a powerful
gust of air.
You
can’t be serious!!” stammered Boy, as he suddenly realised what was
being planned, but the men were deadly serious. If Boy wanted to land
in the jungle, they were only too happy to accommodate that wish,
however, the plane would not be landing there with him.
With
a powerful kick, delivered to the centre of Boy’s bottom, they sent
him, attached firmly to the chair frame, flying out of the side of
the plane into the open sky outside. 
Ckick on the “Read More” tab below to continue:

It
was lucky that the men had opened a hatch at the back of the plane,
so he avoided the danger of being hit by the wing or sucked into the
jet engine, but that was about the limit of Boy’s good luck, as to
the rest, his luck was very much erring to the side of bad!!.
The
kick had been hard enough to send him beyond the tail fin of the
aircraft as it zoomed past, but it had also been hard enough to be
very painful, especially as Boy’s bottom was still tender from the
tennis ball bombardment in had undergone less than 24 hours before.
As regular readers might have guessed, however, it would, of course,
be a lot more tender before the day was out.
The
aircraft was swiftly vanishing into the distant horizon, leaving boy
falling through the empty sky, firmly attached to the frame of the
seat to which the men had tied him.
Boy
had antagonised many people in his time, but this time it had reached
a point where the two flight attendants had been provoked to an act
which put boy at risk of death or serious injury, and that, so far,
was a first.
It
was clear to Boy that those risks were significant, it was also
obvious to him that he could not do a thing about it. The parachute
the men had used was designed to take the weight of an average adult,
however, the additional weight of the chair frame to which Boy was
tied was beyond it’s capacity. 
As a result, Boy was hurtling towards
the ground at an alarming speed.
The
descent picked up speed as Boy approached the jungle canopy, before
crashing through it, into the dark jungle below, tree branches
whipping against the terrified youth’s legs and exposed buttocks as
he fell through that. “OWW! …. OUCH!! …. OWW!” he yelled.
Suddenly,
about thirty feet from hitting the jungle floor, at what would have
been bone shattering speed, Boy’s fall was brought to a sudden
jarring halt, as the parachute became entangled in branches,
arresting his descent and leaving him dangling among the trees.
It
took Boy a few seconds to realise what had happened, and that he was
not a dead or, at least, shattered mess lying on the jungle floor, as
the flimsy parachute had saved him after all.
However,
before Boy was able to celebrate his good luck, an angry buzzing
sound behind him brought with it the horrifying realisation that, as
was usually the pattern of his life, his luck had not going to be as
good as it might otherwise have been.
Looking
back over his shoulder, with a deep sense of foreboding, he saw that
he was hanging next to an African wasps nest, nestling beneath the
tree branch from which his was hanging. To make matters infinitely
worse, he was positioned in such a way that his exposed bare bottom
was dangling mere centimetres from the entrance to the nest, from
which angry buzzing wasps were emerging in battle ready numbers and a
matching warlike attitude.
Having
been attacked by African wasps in the past, Boy knew how painful
their stings could be. A feeling of blind panic gripped him and he
frantically began attempting to free himself from the ropes which
held him trapped on the suspended chair frame.
Of
course, as a cooler mind might have warned him, struggling
frantically was the very worst thing he could have done, as it drew
the angry, but short sighted, insects’ attention to his exposed
bottom, which was exactly what had annoyed the in the first place.
They began buzzing around it making increasingly ferocious and
alarming noises.
First
one angry wasp, and then another landed on Boy’s tender pink butt
cheeks and jabbed their sharp stingers into his flesh, before
injecting a tiny but agonizing stream of fiery venom in to the
handsome but chronically unlucky youth.
Unlike
bees, which lose their stingers when they sting, and can, therefore,
only sting once, wasps stingers remain intact, enabling each wasp to
launch more than one attack, which the feisty little critters did
with resolute gusto.
As
the almost unbearable pain being inflicted on his cute little bare
tush surged through the handsome jungle boy’s lithe young body, Boy
yelled out in pain. His cries echoing through the deep green jungle
to be heard, a mile away, by someone to whom that voice, especially
when expressing pain, was very familiar.
Tarzan,
who was busily repairing the damage to his tree-house, caused by a
recent tropical storm, jumped to his feet uttering a single syllable
“Boy!”. He took hold of a vine, and launched himself into the
air, swinging through trees in the direction from which the yells and
cries were coming.
Mongito,
Cheetah the chimp’s son, also recognised the voice, and after
grabbing a certain wooden object, followed his master, vine swinging
through the jungle branches.
Meanwhile,
Boy continued to struggle with the ropes attaching his wrists to the
chair frame, his writhing now even more frantic and urgent than
before, spurred on by the singing insects attacking his exposed
posterior.
After
some further struggle, Boy’s hands were free, and he hurriedly
reached back in an effort to cover his behind with his now free
hands.
Again
Boy was to encounter the troublesome issue of his unfailing bad luck,
for by the very act of urgently grabbing the now stinging and wasp
venom peppered cheeks of his bottom, he had inadvertently spread
those cheeks revealing his most tender, sensitive and private
recesses nestling between the pert round globes.
This
action unintentionally granted one especially inquisitive wasp access
to that region of Boy’s anatomy which any straight boy, such as he
would prefer to keep to himself. This insect intruder made itself
particularly unwelcome when it jabbed it’s stinger into the puckering
pink button of Boy’s tiny anus and unleashed a stream of molten hot
venom.
The
shock of the wasp sting to his anus, sent an electric pulse through
him, causing him to jerk with such violence that the remaining ropes
attaching Boy’s thighs to the chair frame broke, removing the final
attachment which kept him dangling from the snagged parachute.
Of
course, Boy had not thought through the consequences of detaching
himself from the dangling chair!!! Suddenly he was tumbling from the
tree towards the jungle floor thirty feet below. He braced himself
for a heavy landing.
As
a regular reader of Boy’s misadventures will by now have gathered,
fate and coincidence tend to feature large within his life, and in
his case, both are, not to put too fine a point on it, a bit of a
b#tch!
As
fate would have it, there was a large patch of nettles at the foot of
the tree, and Boy plummeted butt first straight into it. This proved
to be a double edged sword, for whereas the nettles served to cushion
Boy’s fall and prevent serious injury, the sting of the nettles
caused Boy’s already wasp stung bottom to burn even more!
With
a yell which was close to a shriek, Boy leaped to his feet clutching
his throbbing and now bright pink bottom. He proceeded to jump up
and down making pitiful whimpering sounds through gritted teeth.
Oh
man! That hurt!” he groaned out-loud to himself “Why do these
things keep happening to me?!!”
At
least the worst was over, he was back in the jungle, he was on the
ground, he had got away from the wasps and could avoid any more
nettles, the sting in his bottom would eventually fade, nothing
worse could now happen, or could it?
At
that moment, fate again interrupted his thoughts, with an answer to
his question, and not the one he was hoping for. A firm hand tapped
him on the shoulder and a familiar deep voice said “So Boy return
have he?!”
Boly
swung round to find the tall and very angry looking figure of Tarzan
standing behind him and knew instantly what that look on the face of
the older man foretold.
I….I
…I!!!” he stammered, his usually sly but now strangely blank mind
frantically trying to think of an excuse for leaving the jungle and
flying away to another continent without permission or telling his
guardian he was going. But none came to him.
The
tender and caring side of Tarzan was deeply relieved that Boy was
back safe and relatively unhurt, however, his more dominant
disciplinarian, and, it has to be said, vaguely sadistic, side roared
with furious anger that his ward had disobeyed him and put himself at
great risk. He knew that a lesson had to be taught and learned.
Boy
could see exactly what Tarzan was thinking and desperately tried to
avoid the inevitable “Please don’t spank me Tarzan …. sir!!” he
stuttered, I have been stung on the butt by was .. er …. HORNETS
and stinging nettles, my ass is on fire!!!”
GOOD!”
snapped Tarzan, “It’s no more than you deserve!!” he grabbed hold
of the unhappy Boy’s arm “And it’s about to get a lot worse!!”
With
that, he dragged Boy to a nearby bank, sat down and the pulled the
vainly protesting young hunk over his knee. “How dare Boy sneak off
to God knows where, and not send word for months?!!” he shouted
gruffly “Tarzan will teach Boy a lesson he not forget!!”
No
please Tarzan!” cried Boy “I’ve learnt my lesson …. I’ve really
learnt my fucking lesson!”
Boy
Language bad!” growled Tarzan, he lifted a massive paw like hand
and brought it down hard on Boy’s bare wasp and nettle stung bottom
with a resounding SMACK!!
AAAAOOOWWWW!!
Boy’s scream echoed through the jungle followed by a chattering
noise not unlike laughter from the trees full of monkeys nearby. 
Boy’s
scream was soon followed by many more as Tarzan proceeded to deliver
a very hard, and in Trazan’s opinion, well deserved bare bottom
spanking. His large leathery palms whacking down repeatedly on top
of still massively sensitive wasp and nettle stings.
Boy
kicked and struggle, but there was no escape from the jungle man’s
vice like grip.
Boy
has thought things could not get worse, but in fact they were about
to get a whole lot worse as at that moment Mongito, the helpful
chimp, arrived carrying Tarzan’s favourite paddle. The clever little
simian had correctly guessed that Tarzan might have use for the
paddle now that Boy had returned to the jungle.
Well
done little friend!” cried Tarzan, reaching out and taking the
paddle “You know Tarzan have need for this!”
At
that moment Boy resolved that the monkey would die, as soon as the
big guy was not looking, the ape would be history, and it would have
a painful death that was for sure!!
Boy
did not have long to contemplate his planned revenge on Mongito, as
his mind was quickly occupied by something more immediate and
painful, as Tarzan pushed him down on his back, lifted his legs in
the air, placing him in the so called diaper position and proceeded
to paddle his already spanked and stung bottom.

Boy
yelled and protested in agony as the hard wooden bat delivered swat
after swat to his well punished behind.
Then
Boy made another of the many mistakes he had made that day, in the
middle of yelling and shouting he suddenly let rip with a stream of
obscene language and called Tarzan a very nasty name.
WHAT
BOY SAY?” thundered Tarzan
I’m
sorry … I didn’t mean it!!” he gasped as the realisation of what
he had done sunk in. But it was too late, Tarzan decided that Boy
needed an even more severe punishment. He picked Boy up, threw him
over his shoulder and carrying the lad like a sack, began swinging
through the trees towards the edge of the jungle.
Boy
looked around he recognised the direction they were heading in and
the realisation of what was in store began to dawn on him.
Oh
NO!!” he cried “Not THAT!! …. not THE ANTS!!”
It
is what Boy deserve …. it is what Boy gets!!” replied Tarzan
Upon
reaching the edge of the jungle, Tarzan made his way, on foot, out
into the savannah, still carrying Boy, until they reached a massive
ant hill, on top of which Boy was required to sit for all of ten
minutes, while the angry ants bit and stung his well punished bottom.
Boy
had only been punished this way once before, when he had been caught
peeping on the village girls bathing, but he did not need reminding
how painful it was of how long the sting would last. These African
ants had a very potent bite, the sting from which would not even
start to fade for for 24 hours.
Boy’s
bottom would recover to it’s original cute, pristine and unspanked
state, but he would be a very sore jungle boy for some while before
it did!!
 Boy
was back home, his bottom was glowing like a little red beacon,
everything in the jungle was back to normal!!
The
End

The Wasp Stung Peeper

 The
wasp stung peeper

18
year old Darrell Todd’s luck ran out on the day he tried to spy on
the girls in the shower hut at Rosy Glow camp, where he was spending
the summer. He was just getting into a position where he could see
through an open skylight window when the tree branch be was balancing
on have way and he fell with a winding thud into a fork.
To
his horror he realised he trapped, and to make matters worse, not
only had his shorts, which he had undone, with the intention of
jacking off as he watched the girls, fallen down, but his underpants
had caught on a branch, pulling his bottom upwards in a painful and
embarrassing wedgie.
His
snowy white butt cheeks and part of his little tight pink anus, we
fully exposed, and due to his position between the branches, he was
unable to reach back and either free his snagged pants, or cover
himself in any way.
He
struggled to free himself but to no avail and in fact just managed to
wedge himself even more tightly between the branches.
As
he was frantically trying to think what to do, he became aware of a
loud buzzing noise behind him. He looked back over his shoulder,
and between the branches which were holding him like a vice, gasped
in horror at what he saw.
Just
inches from his uplifted and very bare bottom was a large wasps’
nest, with a number of it’s buzzing inhabitants either crawling on
the nest, or flying around it. From the angry sounds they were
making, it was clear that they had been disturbed by his fall, and
were not pleased.
Darrell
froze, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead, anxious not to
further attract the wasp’s attention to his exposed and vulnerable
bottom. However, wasps, with a nest to protect, are naturally
inquisitive creatures and some were already buzzing perilously close
to his naked and, despite his efforts to prevent it, quivering
cheeks. With sickening fear, he realised that his predicament was
far worse than he had imagined.
He
thought of shouting for help, but fear of disturbing the wasps, plus
his masculine pride, made almost as afraid of the girls coming and
seeing him in this humiliating state
click on image to see full sized picture
Darrell
had been in this uncomfortable, humiliating and very dangerous
position for about 20 minutes, with wasps flying closer and closer to
his exposed derrière when he heard the sound of someone approaching,
and two of the camp handymen, Bart and Sam, came walking down the
path both dressed in full beekeeping outfits. The two men stopped in
amazement at the sight of young Darrell Todd pantless and trapped
between the branches of the tree, with his bare, wedgie elevated,
backside right next to the hornet’s nest..
Guys,
help me, my foot slipped, and I’m trapped!” whispered Darrell,
holding his finger to his lips, as he was still anxious not to
disturb the wasps
Why
were you doing up the tree?” asked Bart Wickett
Right
by the window to the girl’s showers” added Sam Burgess, knowingly
raising an eyebrow
With
your pants, round your knees?” interjected Bart, the younger of the
two, with a grin
I
… er ..I…!” stammered Darrell
You
were peeing, weren’t you?” Snarled Sam “Looks like you are about
to get just what you deserve!”
No
.. I … er ….please get me down….!
Hey
Sam I know we were supposed to remove those wasps” grinned Bart
turning to his mate “but it sure seems a shame to disturb them when
they have such a peachy target to play with!!”
Too
right!” laughed Sam Burgess in agreement “Leave em’ be a while!
… but lets wake them up a bit first” he picked up the garden fork
which the men had planned to use to dislodge the wasps’ nest, and
instead began hitting the side of the nest, causing a swarm of angry
buzzing wasps to come flying out, looking for something to attack.
NO
PLEASE!! … Guys don’t do this …GET ME DOWN!!” Yelled Darrell in
terror
But
the words has barely left his lips when the first fire laden stinger
jabbed hard into the centre of his right butt cheek.
AAAAAGHH!!
OWWW!” screamed Darrell as the agonizing pain shot like a well
aimed bullet into the flesh of his athletic but still tender behind.
The first wasp was quickly followed by a compatriot, equally intent
on attacking the perceived enemy with its fiery stinger. The handsome
still pale object, right in front of their nest, presented to them as
a perfect target on which to vent their fury.
Then
a third and fourth wasp launched their tormenting attacks on the
unlucky Darrell’s posterior, the one jabbing the centre of the right
butt cheek, whilst the second simultaneously jabbed its tiny but
venom laden stinger into the sensitive skin at the very base of the
young jock’s right but cheek.
OOWWW!
….. OUCH!! ….AAAAOWWW!” screamed Darrell jerking forward as if
kicked my a mule. Unfortunately this just resulted in forcing the
unlucky lad further over the branch while the snagged pants lifted
his bottom higher, further spreading his cheeks and presenting an
even more exposed and welcoming target to the oncoming wasps.
The
two men let out loud guffaws of delighted laughter at the sight
before them, neither man was naturally cruel, but it appealed to
their sense of justice to see the handsome young man paying such a
painful penalty for his actions.
Bart
Leaned towards his workmate “Don’t you think he has had enough
now?” he said, he will be sore for days.
Not
yet” replied Sam “My daughter would have been in that shower, let
a few more of the little bastards sting his ass first!” with that
he delivered a further WHACK to the fragile nest with the fork
OWWW!….
OUCH!” yelled Darrell, as another two of the “little bastards”
did just what Sam Burgess has hoped they would, stung his now well
stung bottom.
Despite
the already stinging pain peppering his behind, the terrified young
jock, then sensed a wasp landing on him and crawling over his bottom.
With a growing sense of dread, he realised that the tiny, but
ferocious creature was heading towards the crack between his butt
cheeks, where as the sensation of cool fresh air told him, his anus
was now fully exposed.
Get
off me, you little …..!!” Darrell whispered frantically,
attempting to shake off the insect, but the wasp relentlessly
continued it’s advance, up to the smooth still unstung slope between
the cheeks then, like an explorer surveying new terrain, it continued
down the valley towards the puckering pink oval at its base. Within
moments the tiny feet were now tickling the tense but sensitive petal
like skin at the lip of Darrell’s tight, virgin portal.
Sensing
what was about to happen, Darrell shuddered involuntarily, a reflex
which was to have painful consequences. The movement, though slight
to a human, was not unlike an earth tremor to the startled wasp,
which instantly jabbed it’s stinger into the trembling pink flesh,
and released a full does of its searing venom deep into the rim of
Darrel’s most sensitive spot..
No
pain which the young, would be, peeper had experienced in his 18
years of life had hurt as much as much as been stung on the asshole
by a wasp!
It
is such a shock to the system that his body jerks forward, freeing
himself from the branches, tearing his underpants off and sending him
hurtling out of the tree.
Bart
and Sam jumped forward and caught the falling youth, before he hits
the ground, where he would have most probably broken some bones.
Darrell
struggles to his feet, he was now naked from the waist down, as his
shorts had come off as he fell. Then, instead of thanking the guys
for saving him, he yelled at them “You fucking jerks!!, its because
of you those fucking wasps stung my fucking ass!! ….. And it
fucking hurts!!”
Not
as much as it is about to hurt!” snapped Sam, seizing Darrell’s ear
between his thumb and forefinger.
Followed
by Bart, Sam dragged the protesting young jock towards a tree stump.
He sat down and pulled Darrell across his lap
What
are you doing? Let me go you creep!” protested the now very worried
jock.
No
way kid!” smiled Sam, “You are going to get the spanking that
dirty little peepers like you deserve!
No!!
PLEASE NOT ON MY BUTT …..I’VE BEEN STUNG THERE!!”
So
you have!” laughed Sam “right there!” WHACK!! “and there!”
WHACK!!”
With
that Sam began spanking Darrell, making sure that as often as he
could the palm of his hard rubber glove covered hand lander right on
the raised angry red spot where the wasps had left their mark, as
Darrell struggled an hollerred in agony!
My
turn next!” laughed Bart
Wait
your turn Buddy” replied Sam “I am having far too much fun!!”
The
resounding SMACKS!, each accompanied by an increasingly more shrill
cry of pain echoed around the camp, causing campers and staff to
hurry over to see what was causing the commotion.
Poor
Darrell, he was paying a painful penalty for trying to spy on the
girls. He would not be able to sit down for days, or show his face
for a lot longer.
That
was the day that Darrell Todd’s luck really ran out!

Sting of the Jungle III (Part 2)


Click here for Sting of the Jungle III (part1)
 

Boy
felt very sorry for himself, he had not been able to sit down
comfortably for days, after Tarzan had spanked him immediately after
removing the porcupine quills from his bottom. To make matters worse
all his loincloths had been confiscated because he kept losing them,
therefore, he was naked at all times, which was not only
embarrassing but he also felt very vulnerable, especially since he
had discovered that the object he had seen Tarzan whittling was a
paddle.
If
anything, night time was even worse, as the sting in his bottom kept
him awake, so he just lay there thinking about how awful it was to be
stuck in a boring jungle with a strong armed muscle man who believed
the answer to any problem was to spank it. He determined that, as
soon as he could, he would escape to America and live in a city,
where he could wear clothes and never get spanked again.

However,
he would keep that plan a secret, he didn’t wish to give Tarzan any reason to make his bottom any sorer than it already was.

Luckily Boy
was young, and the young heal quickly, so within a few days his
bottom returned to an unspanked and, rather delightful like pink
shade. Once again as the sting in his tail faded, so did his self-seeking resolve to be good. He was just about to sneak off and find
somewhere private, where he could jack off, when he heard Tarzan
calling for him.
Damn,
what’s that jerk want now?” he thought. 

He considered hiding,
however, the memory of the last spanking had not sufficiently faded
for him to risk another one just yet. Adopting a pose of nonchalance,
tinged with as much insolence as he dared, he sauntered into the
jungle clearing where Tarzan was waiting, his arrogant attitude
somewhat undermined by the fact that he was as naked as a baby.

Boy
grimaced at the sight of the two large empty containers at Tarzan’s
feet, as he knew they meant he would be ordered to carry out one of
his least favourite chores.
The
barrel is almost empty again!” snapped the older man “I told you
to keep it full, or we will have nothing to drink or wash with! You
need to fill it up now”
The
sulky expression on Boy’s face expressed exactly how he felt about
this task. It would take ten containers to fill the water barrel,
that meant five trips to the river carrying heavy containers of
water.
You
had better wear this” said Tarzan “holding out one of Boy’s
confiscated loincloths “In case the women from the village are
there.” he added “However, if you loose this one, you won’t be able to sit
down this side of the monsoon season!”
Of
course I won’t loose it! sneered Boy hurriedly grasping at the first
vestige of dignity he’s been allowed in days “I am not stupid you
know!”
Tarzan
raised one eyebrow as he watched Boy hurriedly putting on the
loincloth, but decided to keep his council for the moment. The
older man grinned, he had a sneaking suspicion that boy’s pert and
perfectly formed bottom would be back over his knee, receiving
another well deserved spanking, once again in the very near future!

-/-
It
was a hot day and, despite being remarkably fit and athletic, by the
time Boy had completed two trips to the river and back carrying heavy
containers of water he was hot, sweaty, irritable and feeling in need of a
break. The cool river water looked very tempting, he decided to take
a quick swim before continuing his heavy task. Careful not to get the
loincloth wet, he stripped naked and left the precious garment by a
tree on the river bank before diving into the water for a brief
skinny dip.
He
did not notice that Hector, one of the chimpanzees which Tarzan had
raised from a baby, had followed him to the river, and was sitting on
the bank, watching him splashing about in the shallows.
The
chimp harboured a strong resentment for Boy, who had bullied it
cruelly for years, and as it observed the naked boy, oblivious to his
beauty but keenly aware of it’s animosity towards it’s sometime
tormentor, a plot began to form in Hector’s almost human brain.
A
highly intelligent creature, Hector understood a lot of human
language and the line “You won’t sit down ..” was a phrase it had
heard often enough to understand what it meant and to appreciate the
implied threat they held for it’s adversary’s bottom. It understood
that Tarzan had used the phrase in connection with the piece of cloth
he had given to Boy, and concluded that, were Boy to loose that piece
of cloth, Tarzan might inflict pain on Boy’s rump. If so, it would
be an outcome which the vengeful ape would find very pleasing indeed.
The
Chimpanzee hurried over to the loincloth and snatched it up, waving
it in the air and making loud hoots and screeches to attract Boy’s
attention.
Hearing
the noise, Buy spun round and spotted the chimp on the bank “What’s
that dumb ape doing?!” He thought, then he spotted the loincloth
gripped in Hector’s fist “Put that down you stupid fucking
monkey!” he yelled, but Hector just let out a chattering laugh and
scuttled off toward the woods, still carrying his trophy.
At that moment Boy
suddenly realised that his bottom was very bare and very, very
vulnerable
He
waded hastily to the bank, knowing he had to retrieve the loincloth
or he would be in for a serious spanking, he gulped, maybe Tarzan
would even use that damn paddle on him!
The
chimp scampered away through the long grass towards the jungle with
the naked Boy in hot pursuit desperate to retrieve his loincloth and
avoid a paddling.
Once
in the jungle, Hector looked back and impudently waved the loincloth
at Boy, as if taunting him.
Damn
you, you little brute!” snarled the angry boy running towards the
monkey. Unfortunately, Boy was so intent on catching the animal he
did not watch where he was going, he tripped and fell forward into
the narrow crook of a tree.
Boys
continuing streak of bad luck was showing no signs of leaving him. To
his horror he found that when he attempted to free himself, he found
he could not, he was held tight in the tight gap between the trunk
and a branch, which gripped him firmly round the waist. He struggled
in an effort to get loose, but this merely made his predicament
worse, by pushing his front half forward whilst raising his peachy
bare bottom up and presenting it naked an exposed like a sacrificial
offering to a pagan god.
He
heard Hector’s shrill chatter transform into a mocking cackle and he
determined he would, one day slaughter that ape!
He
had been stuck in the vice like grasp on the tree for a few minutes
when he became aware of the sound of something approaching him from
behind. He stiffened in fear and a bead of sweat formed on his
forehead. Not all the predators in the jungle were tame, due to his position he was
unable to clime a tree to avoid sharp teeth and claws, whilst he knew
his lower half would appear a tempting feast for a hungry carnivore. 

In fact the approaching “thing” was two young men from the
village on the edge of the jungle, returning from an unsuccessful
hunting expedition.

The
first youth to enter the clearing stopped in amazement at the sight
which met him, a handsome white bottom and legs protruding from a
fork in a large wild fig tree. His surprise did not last for long,
there were only two semi naked white men this deep in the West
African jungle, and from one glance at the pert young bottom and
toned athletic legs he could be reasonably sure it wasn’t the more
bulky and muscular Tarzan.
Boy
was well known to the villagers, but, unlike the popular Tarzan, Boy
was not well liked. He was generally considered an arrogant and
selfish brat, whom they widely suspected spied on the village girls.
They all delighted in the stories of Boy’s many misfortunes, which
invariably resulted in Boy receiving a very sore bottom, which in
their view he richly deserved.
It
was no great surprise to find that Boy had got himself into yet
another embarrassing predicament, and the youth’s heart missed a
couple of beats at the prospect of this time being the one in a position to give Boy his sore
bottom.

Joined
by his companion, who exploded in giggles upon realising what an
opportunity for a bit of entertainment they had happened upon, the
two youths approached Boy’s exposed and vulnerable backside. The
first youth lifted his spear and jabbed first Boy’s left butt cheek
then the right one with the sharp point.
Boy
cried out in shock and pain, his first terrified thought being that
the sharp points were the teeth of a leopard , and then he heard the
very human sound of laughter and his fear turned to anger and
humiliation!
The
other youth joined in and both had some fun jabbing Boy’s sensitive
bottom with their sharp spears and laughing as their target squealed
in pain and outrage, threatening them with any amount of revenge he
was in no position to inflict.
The
youths eventually tired of that game, but they were not finished with
Boy by any means . Freeing him from the crook of the tree, they
immediately trussed him up like a turkey with hanging vines and proceeded to
hoist him into the air.  Whilst he hung helplessly before them they smeared his behind with fresh
honey from the honeycomb they carried with them for energy.

Laughing happily at Boy’s discomfort, the two youths then headed back to the village leaving Boy hanging from the vine.

At
first Boy did not understand the purpose of the honey, but it soon
became clear, as the sweet sticky substance attracted every stinging
insect in the vicinity, which all came swarming around his behind in a
frenzy of buzzing and stinging.
Boy
yelled and struggled as the as the tiny but toxic creatures attacked
him with vigour, covering his well jabbed and honey smeared bottom with painful
stings.
Boy’s
struggling snapped the vines by which he was hanging from the tree,
and he hurtled toward the hard jungle floor….
Where
he made a painful landing.
Boy
lept to his feel, clutching his tortured behind and let out a yell of
anguish, a not unfamiliar sound in that corner of the jungle.
The
loincloth briefly forgotten the red bottomed Boy made his way home. However, he
remembered it as soon as he met up with Tarzan and saw the look on
his face, and the paddle gripped in his hand. Boy knew instantly that
he was about to be spanked!
Boy
was not wrong, Tarzan was furious, not only has his miscreant ward
clearly lost his clothing again, but he had only filled a quarter of
the tank with water. To make matters worse when he had gone to the
river to find what was taking Boy so long, he had been just in time
to see the precious containers, which Boy had left on the bank
floating off down stream towards the mighty Congo river, where they would be lost forever
The
containers had come from a aircraft which had crashed a few years
earlier and would not be easy to replace that deep in the jungle.
Boy would have to carry water in banana leaves in future. However,
that punishment would come later, right now it was time for the especially crafted
paddle to be put to work. Tarzan strode forward grabbed hold of Boy,
slung the lad over his shoulder and headed towards a rock, where he
sat down and placed Boy firmly across his knee.
Boy
was then paddled from various angles, first on his back over Tarzan’s
knee with his legs in the air.

Then
bent over a fallen tree, his long athletic legs kicking helplessly behind him, as Hector the sadistic ape, shrieked with delight.
For
the next twenty minutes the sound of whacking echoed through the
jungle, as the birds and animals fell silent listening to the
familiar sound of Boy’s progressively more frantic cries.
Finally
it was over, Tarzan marched off into the jungle clutching the still
warm paddle in his hand, leaving a well punished Boy crouching on all
fours, his glowing red bottom sticking up in the air.
Hector,
the chimpanzee which had followed Boy when he returned to camp, and
happily watched while his enemy was punished, looked on, pleased, in
it’s almost human way, with it’s day’s work. 

About
to eat a banana, the sight of Boy’s fiery red spanked bottom and the
now exposed puckering portal between the cheeks, caused a more appropriate
use for the curved cylinder shaped fruit began to form in it’s mind,
a use which would add a final, uncomfortable, humiliation to Boy’s
catalogue of mishaps. 
Hector
waddled up to Boy, and with one swift movement, rammed the banana
firmly into Boy’s upraised anus, forcing it in until only a couple of
inches remained exposed, protruding from the tight orifice.
The expression on the ape’s face couldn’t have said more clearly, “Now you’re fucked asshole!” 

Boy
gasped in mortified horror as the hard and rather large alien object
invaded his most intimate parts, momentarily frozen in shock, shame
and humiliation. This had certainly not been a good day.

The End

Sting of the Jungle III (Part 1)

 Part 1

Boy
was in a good mood, it had been over a week since the unfortunate
incident with the chilli paste and days since Tarzan last spanked
him. As always, as soon as the sting faded from Boy’s bottom, his
nineteen year old mind began to move on to misbehaviour, and all
promises of being good in future, no matter how genuinely they were
meant whilst the imprint of the older man’s palm still glowed on his
cheeks, began to fade together with the angry pink of his last
spanking.
After
resentfully hurrying through his obligatory chores, boy ran through
the jungle until he reached a tree which gave him a good vantage
point from which he could view the section of the river where the
village girls often went to bathe. His young loins throbbing with
testosterone, he was planning to jack off while spying on them.

 

 

However,
to his annoyance once he reached the top of the tree, he was just in
time to see two of the girls, fully dressed and walking away from the
river bank, their wet hair evidence he had arrived too late to view
their ablutions.
Damn!”
he hissed “it was fucking Tarzan’s fault!” insisting that he
clear rocks, when he could instead have been getting his rocks off
peeping at naked women.
Well
there was no point in sitting up a tree with no entertainment, so he
decided to go somewhere private where he could relieve his
frustration. Taking hold of a hanging vine he launched himself into
the air, his lithe young body swinging effortlessly through the
trees. 
 

 

Unfortunately
for Boy, with his mind focused on his need to masturbate, he failed
to watch where he was going, and, it was only at the last moment that
he saw that he was swinging straight towards one of the long horned
cattle from the village, which had obviously wondered into the
jungle. He was swinging straight towards one of the animals horns.
Boy jerked the vine, in an attempt to avoid the animal, but it was to
late, and he was swinging too fast. He only had time to clench his
teeth, as his tender bottom hurtled towards the long sharp horn.

 

AAAAAAGGGGHHHHOOOOWW!!!”
yelled Boy as the hard and cruelly pointed tusk, shot between his
cheeks and roughly forced itself between the puckered pink lips of
his rectum, and up inside him, painfully stretching the tight and
narrow channel beyond. The experience was made even more
uncomfortable from the fact that Boy’s most intimate passageway was
still bruised from a recent, and very similar encounter with a rhino
and still extra sensitive from the Shamen’s hot chilli potion, which
Tarzan had mistakenly rubbed into it. (see part 2)
Tears
streaming from his watering eyes, Boy still had the presence of mind
to grip the vine the ine in an effort to prevent himself sliding
further onto the horn, and becoming totally impaled. However, his
efforts were assisted by the now enraged steer, who dislodged his
unwelcome burden from the end of his horn, before any serious damage
was done, as, with a violent shake of its head, he sent Boy flying
through the air and landing, heavily, and painfully on the hard
ground.

 

Boy
jumped to his feet, clasping his smarting behind, all thought of
masturbation replaced by the throbbing ache between his cheeks.
Boy’s
day had not started well, and it was about to get even worse.
*******

 

The
unhappy youth made his way home rubbing his sore bottom as he went,
he was feeling very sorry for himself. However, that feeling soon
gave way to a different emotion, one of intense nervousness, when he
spotted Tarzan ahead of him, and noticed that he was in the process
of whittling an odd looking wooden object, using a small, but very
sharp, knife. Boy had never seen an object like it before, it was a
flat piece of wood, probably half to three quarters of an inch thick,
narrow at one end, forming what appeared to be a handle. Running
down the centre of the wider end of the object were two rows of round
holes.

Although
Boy did not recognise the object, he had a reasonable idea as to its
potential application, and decided to would be wise to keep himself,
and, in particular, his sore little bottom, as far away from it as
possible.
He
decided that the best course of action would be to climb back up the
tree, and stay there for a while.
However,
Boy had only made it a short distance up the tree, when, for a second
time that day, his carelessness was to have a very painful outcome on
his young bottom.
  

 

Failing
to spot an African hornet’s nest, his bare foot accidentally kicked
it as he climbed past, shattering it into pieces and sending it’s
furious inhabitants into and angry, buzzing, frenzy . As is an angry
hornet’s way, their initial impulse was to sting the nearest object
they could find as revenge for the destruction of their home.

 

It
was Boy’s bad luck, that the nearest sentient object to the hornet’s
wrecked abode was his, very tempting and very exposed backside, which
was immediately spotted by a number of the irate hornets. The
immediately flew straight at it, and sunk their sharp acid filled
stingers into the tender flesh, sending shocks of electric pain
shooting deep into boy’s posterior, causing the lad to shriek in
horror and agony. 
 

 

Knowing
he had only seconds before the whole swarm was onto him, Boy had only
one option, which was to release his grip on the branch which was
holding him and let himself fall out of the tree. As he did so, a
branch snagged his loincloth, ripping it right off, and leaving him
falling naked towards the ground.

 

As
has, no doubt, by now been established Boy was not born under a
lucky star, and as fate would have it, just at that moment a crested
African porcupine was walking beneath the very tree from which was
making his rapid and, bare bottom foremost, descent. Compounding the
bad news, was the that said Porcupine was, at that moment seeking to
impress a nearby female of its species by splaying its sharp pointed
quills, which were pointing skyward in the very direction from which
Boy’s ill fated bottom was fast approaching.
Although
mercifully unaware of the prickly beast’s presence, Boy realised that
his landing was likely to be painful, so he grabbed hold of a vine in
the hope of slowing his fall. 
 

 

Although
this action probably saved him from serious and even permanent
injury, and the porcupine from almost certain death, it only slowed
his fall, which still ended in a painful landing, as the unlucky
miscreant ended up, as only he could, bestriding and sitting upon
the porcupine, its needle like quills jabbing into his hornet stung
bare bottom!
Tarzan
came running at the sound of Boy’s howls of distress, and quickly
helped the wailing lad off the back of the traumatised porcupine and
carried him back to the cave, where he kept the medicine and
supplies, and where he and and his young ward slept during the rainy
season.

 

For
the next hour Boy’s world focused on a ring of exquisite agony
surrounding his upturned, pin cushion resembling, bare bottom, as
Tarzan gently removed the mass of porcupine quills jabbed into it. In
its shock the creature had not fired its quills, and, thanks to the
vine slowing his landing, the quills were not, embedded very deeply
into Boy’s delicate behind, but removing them was still a long and,
for Boy, a painful process!!
As
mentioned previously, Boy had the added misfortune for someone quite
so accident prone, of having an exceptionally low pain with the
result that even low levels of discomfort were difficult for him to
endure with good grace. This discomfort was, of course, on a
different level altogether, and as result yelled and protested
non-stop. However, it was at the very point when Tarzan was the
removing the final quill, which was embedded more firmly that the
rest, and in a particularly sensitive area just millimetres from his
horn bruised anus, that Boy made the mistake which was to add
considerably to his woes.
YEEEOWWCH!!”
he yelled “THAT HURT! YOU F##KING C##T!!”
Tarzan
reached forward and grabbed boy by the ear “WHAT DID YOU CALL ME?”
He snarled “HOW DARE YOU?!!” with that he pulled boy to his feet
and then sat down on a rock, still gripping Boy firmly by the wrist.
“After I devote my valuable time to helping you, all you can do is
speak to me like that …….. You need to be taught some manners
young man!”

Boy
looked in Tarzan’s face and instantly recognised the determined
expression, as the horrific realisation of what his mentor was
planning began to dawn!
No!”
cried Boy “Please Sir not THAT!!” he tried to pull away, but
Tarzan’s grip was like a steel trap, offering Boy no means of escape.
“Please don’t spank me Sir! My bottom is so sore!”
You
should have thought of that, before you used that filthy language!”
growled Tarzan, pulling the struggling 19 year old over his lap “If
you think your bottom is sore now, just wait until I have finished
with it!”

 

With
that he delivered a mighty SMACK! to Boy’s bright red behind,
causing the lad to yelp in pain. “I don’t know where you …”
SMACK! “…learnt that language!…” SMACK! “…but I am going
to..” SMACK!! …”make sure…” SMACK! “…you never use it
…” SMACK!” “again!!” SMACK!!SMACK!!
OWWW!!
…OUCH!! …STOP!” please stop!” protested the wriggling and
struggling Boy “STOP …YOUR FU…. YOUR KILLING ME!!”
Oh
you’ll survive…” SMACK! “…you just won’t be able to…”
SMACK! “..sit down..” SMACK! “for a few..” SMACK! “..days!”
SMACK! … “Just think yourself lucky” SMACK! “I am not using
the new..” SMACK! “.. paddle I made..” earlier
Ignoring
Boy’s pleas Tarzan applied his leather like palm to Boy’s glowing
rump with vigour as a further thirty five smacks echoed around the
cave, accompanied by Boy’s increasingly tearful cries.

 

Finally
Tarzan stopped “I shall be soft with you, because you are already
sore” he snapped “however, if I ever hear you use that language
again, I won’t stop at fifty!” with that, he shoved the lad off
his lap, causing the unfortunate young man’s well spanked and
porcupine pricked behind to land hard on the stony floor, causing yet
another yell of pain.

 

Tarzan
then jumped to his feet “And as you have lost another loincloth!..”
he boomed “you will stay bare bottomed in future!!” he turned and
marched out of the cave leaving boy sitting on him battered behind,
whaling like a baby.
Boy
gingerly stood up, tears running down his face as his hands caressed
his severely punished and beacon red behind. Tarzan was right,
there would be no likelihood that he would be sitting down , and time
soon, and how humiliating to be bare bottomed at all times,
especially when his behind revealed the clear evidence of his
spanking.
He
hoped that there wouldn’t be any visitors to the camp for a while.

I
just can’t get any worse than this” he sniffed feeling very sorry
for himself.
That,
of course, was where Boy was wrong. It could get worse, as he would
soon find out …….
To
be continued ….
( Sting of the Jungle III part 2 will be posted shortly)