The STING of the Jungle (Part 2)
As the days passed and the sting began to fade from his well punished behind, Boy began to regain much of his old cockiness and also a degree of the arrogance and selfishness which had got him into trouble in the fist place. Most boys have short memories, and Boy was no exception, it was not in his nature to be good unless forced to be, and left to his own devices his true nature soon began to resurface.
A wise guardian knows that behavioural issues need to be reinforced regularly, usually with a firm hand, or other suitable implement, applied to tender, preferably bared, young buttocks. Tarzan was generally a wise guardian, but he was also a busy man, and, as such he occasionally allowed Boy more freedom than was good for him.
Boy, of course took full advantage of this, and in no time he was back to his old ways, mistreating the jungle animals when Tarzan was not looking, and more recently he had taken to spying on the maidens from the village at the edge of the jungle as they bathed in the river.
Cheetah watched Boy’s behaviour with growing irritation. The wise old chimp had hoped the lad’s earlier chastisement would lead him to change his ways, but it was becoming clear that further punishment was necessary. He recalled that Boy’s previous punishment began with the forced removal of the youth’s loincloth and decided this was most probably the best way to start.
He took the opportunity as Boy swung passed him hanging from a vine, at which point the old ape reached out, grabbed hold of Boy’s loincloth and tugged, ripping away Boy’s only covering leaving him swinging naked through the jungle.
Boy was so taken by surprise that he flew straight into a tree, causing him to loose grip of the vine …..
….. sending him hurtling towards the jungle floor where he landed heavily, and painfully on his bare behind.
As Boy lay on the jungle floor, clutching his bruised and aching tush he failed to notice a shadowy figure watching him from among the trees.
As this was the second loincloth Boy had lost, Tarzan declared that, as punishment it would not be replaced and that Boy would have to remain naked until he learnt to be more careful with his property.
For weeks thereafter Boy’s tender 19 year old bottom would be fully exposed to the world at all times.
This provided Tarzan with easy access to it at any time of the day and night when he felt it was appropriate to turn his young ward over his knee and spank him hard. Which as an event that occurred on regular and frequent occasions.
Meanwhile, in his home on the edge of the jungle, Boy’s most deadly enemy was plotting against him. The Sangoma would never forgive the insult the white boy had carelessly tossed in his direction. Boy had the insolence to call him a mere “witch doctor” and he would pay dearly for that rudeness.
The Sangoma’s anger had been slated for a while after having watched the butt punishment which Boy had suffered a few weeks earlier, but being prone to violent mood wings his anger had flared again and he decided further chastisement was due.
First he would use an ancient potion, the secret properties of which were known to heighten sensation, increasing pleasure and also discomfort by many levels, it was the second of these effects which the Sangoma intended for Boy, he grinned as he dipped the tips of his darts into the liquid.
Once his darts were prepared, the Sangoma began to work on another potion, for this he needed to use three of his prized Bhut Jolokia chili peppers, the hottest known to man and grown from seeds imported from Assam. When crushed and mixed with various African herbs and spices they would create a particularly fiery embrocation.
Sometime later the Sangoma was seen leaving his hut on the edge of the village and heading towards the jungle carrying a blow pipe and a goatskin bag.
After stopping briefly at the cave where Tarzan stored provisions and where the ape man and Boy sheltered during the rainy season, the Sangoma set off in search of his target.
He didn’t have far to look, as he has expected Boy was crouching behind a bush by the riverbank watching a group of village girls bathing.
As he crouched there, with his bare white 19 year old bottom raised, he presented an irresistible target for the Sangoma, who, while hiding behind a nearby tree quickly slipped a dart into his blowpipe and raised it to his lips. Taking aim, he inhaled deeply and then before blowing into the pipe.
The dart shot out of the pipe and ripped through the air, hurtling towards its exposed and tender target.
“Thwup!!” the dart hit Boy in the centre of his right butt cheek the needle like point penetrating his skin like a hypodermic injection shot from a cannon. “YEEEEEAAAAAOOOOOWWW!!” Boy let out a scream of agony as the pain shot through him.
The Sangoma grinned to himself as he looked at the feather ended dart sticking out of Boy’s behind like an odd little tale. He knew that, at that very moment the potion was already flowing through Boy’s veins where it would remain for the next 48 hours. The mixture would do no lasting harm to Boy, but whilst it remained in his body it would heighten sensitivity and sensation, so that anything Boy felt, be it pleasure, pain or even mild discomfort, would be considerably exaggerated.
If all went to plan, Boy would be experiencing quite a few sensations over the next two days, and few, if any, would be pleasurable ones.
Boy ran home clutching the dart in one hand and his throbbing backside with the other. However, when he found Tarzan, the older man was somewhat less sympathetic than he had expected.
“You have obviously been upsetting the villagers again” boomed Tarzan, “they would not be firing darts at you otherwise would they?!!” he said “What did I tell you would happen if you bothered the villager?”
“You can’t be serious!” protested Boy ”You can’t spank me! I’ve just been shot in the ass!”
“Maybe an even sorer bottom will help reinforce the message!” snarled Tarzan, who sat down on an exposed tree root grabbed hold of Boy threw him over his knee, and began spanking his upturned bare bottom.
By this stage the Sangoma’s potion gad begun to take effect, effectively tripling the stinging sensation caused by the impact of Tarzan’s hand on Boy’s bottom, to boy it felt like each smack was a branding iron searing his flesh. A spanking from Tarzan was bad enough at the best of times, but this one was a fire storm, and Boy immediately began to yell and scream as if he was being murdered.
“All that noise, because of a little prick!” shouted Tarzan, “What a baby you are” and he continued to spank with renewed gusto.
That night Boy slept badly, his dreams were tormented by visions of hellish demons with branding irons and pointed tridents torturing his burning behind.
The next morning Tarzan ordered Boy to leave the jungle and go on to the open land to collect a special herb which grew there.
Boy was in a bad mood, he was tired after the fitful nights sleep, and his behind still stung from the spanking he had received from Tarzan the day before, he had never known a spanking to sting for so long afterwards, “the old guy must have really hit hard!” he muttered.
As Boys was bending to pick the herbs, he failed to notice the brown python slithering towards him, in fact it was not until the huge snake lunged forward and wrapped itself around his legs and arms, trapping him in a bending position, that he even noticed it was there.
“Let go of me you overgrown worm” yelled Boy, but the serpent just tightened its grip causing Boy to bend even further into a more vulnerable and exposed position.
It was then that Boy heard the thunderous hooves pounding towards him. He could not see what was coming, but it was obviously large and heavy and probably none too friendly. He struggled to free himself and escape but the python held him firmly in place.
In fact the creature approaching Boy from behind was Old Sharp Horn a rhino with one of the longest and pointiest horns in all of Africa, and as the mighty animal lumbered forward that horn was pointed straight at Boy’s tight and puckering rosebud which was raised up and exposed by his humiliating position.
Despite its bulk and the seeming clumsiness of its movement, the rhinoceros hit its target with the precision of an archer striking a bullseye, the pointed horn forcing its way between the tight lips of boys rectum and skewering the errant but handsome like a kebab.
Its job done, the python released it’s grip and slithered away as the rhino raised its head, hooking Boy by the anus and lifting him off the ground.
His entire body weight now resting on his penetrated anus, Boy reached back and gripped the horn, on which he was now firmly impaled straining every muscle and breaking into a sweat in a relatively unsuccessful effort to prevent the sharp and hard tusk from entering further inside him.
The rhino turned and began to run causing Boy to bounce up and down on its horn, each bounce forcing the hard and rough object further up his behind, The unfortunate lad screamed in pain as his tight spincter was stretched wide and wider by the intruding shaft, to his horror he realised he was, in effect, being fucked by a rhino horn.
On the rhino trundled, its huge hoofs thudding on the ground and causing its mighty frame to shudder and jerk each movement thrusting the hard and tormenting horn into the unhappy youth impaled on its spiky end.
Then the great beast stopped dead in its tracks, and with one violent shake of its head, sent boy flying off its horn and high into the air before he came hurtling back down to land on a mound of earth in the centre of savanna, breaking the crust and landing heavily in the middle of the structure.
Stunned and sore Boy sat for a moment in the middle of the broken mound, despite his uncomfortable landing he was glad to be off that hard and thrusting horn. His relief was short lived, for when he attempted to lift himself free from the hole caused by his landing, he found he could not. The mound appeared to be a structure formed of a number of passageways leading to a central chamber. Boy’s bottom had broken through the ceiling of the chamber but was now firmly wedged between the sides of the hole he had created, like a cork jammed in a bottle neck.
He tried to struggle but that only served to jam his bare bottom further into the hole. He was trapped with only his head legs arms and shoulders above the ground, with the rest of him gripped firmly in a ‘v’ shape in the unyielding and compacted earth which made up the mound in which he had landed.
He tried to shout for help, but his voice echoed around the empty plain, and he knew there was nobody to hear him, as Tarzan was miles away back in the jungle.
His voice was heard though, the Sangoma, who had been hiding nearby patted the head of the great rhinoceros as it waddled past him on its way back to the river. “Well done Kifaro he whispered, you have done well!”
Back at the mound, Boy was wracking his brain to think of a means of escape when he sensed a tingle across his butt cheek as first one set of six tiny legs and then another began to crawl over his behind, followed by a third and a forth. At first he could not understand what was happening, but then he looked at the mound and accompanied by a growing horror the realisation of what it was began to dawn on him. It was an ant hill ….. HIS BARE ASS WAS STUCK IN AN ANT HILL!!
It was not just any ant-hill, there were African fire ants, a tiny creature renowned for is aggression and for the pain its bite was said to cause. Boy did not have long to wait before he discovered the truth of that claim, or to find out how fire ants earned their name when, as if sensing his fear as he tensed his body, one of the angry insects sunk its sharp and disproportionately large jams into his tender flesh, injecting a tiny but potent dose of its venom as it did so.
“AAAAAAGGGGHHHHOOOOWWWWW!!” screamed Boy as the pain shot into him like a red hot needle “YEEEEEAAAAOOOWW!” he yelled as another of the vicious creatures followed suit with. “Help me!!!!! AAAAAAAGGGGGHHHHH!!!!!!!! …..HELP!!!”
The only one to hear his cries was the Sangoma, and there was no help to come from that quarter, the cruel man laughed as turned and made his way back to the village. He felt the white boy had been punished enough for now, especially with the one further surprise he had in store for the unlucky youth, assuming the ants didn’t eat him first!
The ants were now swarming over Boy’s invitingly presented behind and biting as they did so, including his most intimate tender and sensitive areas, the head of his penis and his tight little anus, injecting more of their agonizing venom as they did so. The creatures seemed to have an instinctive knowledge as to the most sensitive areas to attack, such as the the pink fleshy dimples at the very rim of his rectum causing a sensation not unlike being penetrated with a red hot poker.
Boy’s behind was now a zone or radiating pain, stinging as if it were in a furnace which was getting hotter and hotter with each brutal nip from the marauding ants.
By now boy was screaming, kicking his legs in the air and thumping the earth with his fists as if in an impotent attempt to beat away the pain, as hot tears ran down his cheeks.
Finally from somewhere he found the strength to heave himself out of the hole, but not before the ants has bitten every inch of exposed skin from the top of his thighs to the small of his back. Across his cheeks they had crawled, between them and into his most delicate and intimate crevices, and bitten everywhere they went.
Boy struggled to his feet, sobbing like a baby and clutching is punished behind he staggered away from the broken anthill and its ferocious inhabitants. He was free from the trap but the pain would not go away.
He had to get back to Tarzan and the soothing potions he kept in a cave at the middle of the jungle.
The journey home was long and painful, as the only bearable way to walk was with the bow-legged gait of a cowboy who had spent too long in the saddle, whie holding his butt cheeks apart to prevent the ant bits from rubbing together.
Tarzan acted immediately when Boy staggered into the clearing beneath their sleeping tree. Upon hearing what had happened he threw Boy over his shoulder and ran to the cave where he stored his provisions, including the the special soothing ointment made from various jungle ingredients,which he kept for dealing with burns and insect bites.
Once in the cave, Tarzan sat down upon a rock and firmly placed Boy, bottom uppermost, between his knees, a position which gave him maximum access to the youth’s sorest parts.
Usually Boy would have found such a position demeaning and humiliation, but now all he cared about was that the pain go away.
Tarzan scooped a large dollop of the ointment from the bowl beside him and began to rub it firmly into boys stinging bottom, across the firm but very reddened young cheeks, then between them and into every intimate area. Noting the angry bites around Boy’s rectum, he gently inserted an ointment covered finger into the young man moving it around inside his anus.
“It will feel better soon!” he whispered.
Boy heard the reassuring tone in Tarzan’s voice, but he wasn’t reassured, for in fact far from feeling better his bottom was starting to feel even worse. Instead of soothing the sting, the pain seemed to be getting more intense as his behind became hotter and hotter “Stop!!” he gasped, “Are you using the right stuff?!!!”
“Of course I ………!!” Tarzan began to reply and then paused as he suddenly became aware of hot burning sensation on his hands, he turned his hands over and examined his palms which were both a sore and angry burning red colour and felt as if they had been badly sun burnt “…What on earth?!!”
He picked up the bowl of “ointment” and noticed for the first time that it had an unusual reddish tint to it, he dipped his finger in it and then touched his tongue and recoiled as the hot sensation hit him. Someone had swapped the soothing cream fir a paste containing extra powerful chillies and that was what he had been liberally applying to his ward’s punished posterior!
Boy leapt to his feet and let out a shriek of agony as he clutched his roasting behind “I’m on fire!!!!” he yelled as he rushed out of the cave letting out an ear splitting roar of anguish as he did so.
He continued to yell out in pain as he ran towards the river the fiery sensation in his behind getting hotter and hotter as he ran.
The sound of his cries echoed through the jungle and could be heard as far away as the Sangoma’s hut, causing him to chuckle, his plan has worked out perfectly!
Poor Boy sat at the top of the waterfall for hours hoping the cool water would sooth his stinging bottom, but unluckily for him, the Sangoma had mixed a powerful paste and it would be days before the sting in his tale even began to fade.