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

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

8 Replies to “The Shaman’s Revenge Part 14 – Jordan meets the Cody Brothers”

  1. This is fantastic, Bruce. I love that the frying pan was still hot when they punished Jordan. And he certainly deserves it. Especially loved the picture of Floyd spanking him with the smoke coming from the pan. I hope that "flaming" pan in Jordans dream becomes reality. lol
    I am very partial to Floyd and find him extremely attractive and worthy of delivering the punishments. Hopefully barefoot too. Great job!
    And lastly, being country boys, I am sure there is a pitchfork somewhere on that property. Oh, the possibilities! lol
    Thanks, Bruce! Keep it going/

  2. I loved that they wanted to keep him and spank him twice a day, to keep his ass permanently red. That's a fantasy of mine. I also loved how one brother took the hot pan, without even thinking about it burning Jordan's teenage ass badly, and spanked him. It was just sheer luck that it did not burn him more.

  3. Pitchfork idea is great. But it sounds like Jordan is gonna get his little str8 boy ass fucked hard. Squeal like a pig boy!

  4. I love how you implement the small details, like the fork or the carpet beater, that are eager to get in touch with Jordan's butt. Any plan for the next part? 😉 I am just looking forward…

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