The Shaman’s Revenge – Chapter 23

The Shaman’s Revenge Chapter 23

Jordan and the Paddle Drone

Jordan could not believe what he had just heard, he had faced a lot of different criticism in the past, but nobody had ever suggested what Officer Tartarus had just accused him of. Jordan was very proud of his fit and well toned athletic physique, so his new guardian’s words had really hit a nerve.

“I am not out of shape!” he almost snarled with indignation “There’s no way I’m …. FAT!!”

“You will be if you spend all day slouching there like a couch potato and eating chips!” replied Tartarus

“I have been here for fine minutes!”

“And your hair is too long, you look like a mess!”

“Mandy Morino says she likes my hair like this!”

“Mandy Morino is a slut!”

Jordan frowned, but decided not to respond, he didn’t want to admit that the neighbour’s 18-year-old daughter Mandy’s sluttish nature was one of her main attractions, and besides was also beginning to suspect the Ranger was not interested in girls.

“I am not out of shape, I swim every day!”

“Swimming is good!” replied Tartarus “But you need to run, when did you last go for a run?”

“There’s nowhere to run, the garden is too small, and the park is full of homeless people and drug addicts!”

“We could go to the beach, Sunny Bay Cove is not far, there is plenty of space to run there, and as it’s mid-week there will be nobody there. You could run for miles!”

After some arguing, Jordan reluctantly agreed, deciding a day at the beach might be fun, even if it meant he, would be stuck with Tartarus all day and had to run a bit.

An hour later, they arrived at Sunny Bay Cove, and, as Officer Tartarus had predicted, they had the beach to themselves. It was also a very hot day, and Jordan was keen to get out of his street clothes and into something more suitable for the beach.

The Ranger, who was sitting in a deckchair he’s brought with them, watched Jordan undress with a crooked grin on his face. He knew Jordan felt uncomfortable being naked in front of him, but he also knew that there was nothing Jordan could do about it.

It was immediately obvious that Jordan was not “Out of shape” or “fat”, as had been suggested earlier, he was in fact in excellent shape, with a the lithe and fit body of a Healthy young athlete. However, Tartarus could not resist a little unkind teasing “You need to loose a few pounds off that fat butt!” he snorted, pointing at Jordan’s perfectly proportioned bottom.

Jordan glowered sulkily and grabbed the bag containing his running gear, anxious to cover his nakedness.

However, when he unzipped the bag, he found there was nothing inside apart from a single white jockstrap. The shorts, singlet and running shoes he had packed only an hour before, were no longer there.

“Where’s my stuff!” he protested angrily “Did you unpack it?”

“You must have packed the wrong bag, you know how careless you are!” replied Tartarus casually

“I didn’t pack the wrong bag! .. it was this one”

“It can’t have been, otherwise you would have your kit! Wouldn’t you?” Tartarus shrugged “Anyway, you have that!”

“A jockstrap?” cried an angry Jordan “I can’t run in nothing but a jockstrap!”

“Why not? There’s nobody here to see you, and I won’t look!”

Jordan scowled, he knew the Ranger would look, he always looked.

“Just wear the jock!” insisted Tartarus “You can’t wear your street clothes, you’ll sweat like a pig in this heat!”

Reluctantly, Jordan put on the jockstrap, at least it would cover his junk, even though it left his bare butt exposed. Thank God there was no-one else there.

Whilst preoccupied in peering into the distance to ensure there were no observers on the beach, Jordan failed to notice the ranger opening his own beach bag and taking out a large object.

Then he heard a gentle humming sound behind him, he spun round to see a bizarre flying object shaped like a ping-pong paddle, seemingly hovering in the air in front of him.

“What the f….. what’s THAT?”

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“It’s a training drone!” replied the ranger casually “It’s to help you maintain speed, when running!”

“Training drone? …” Jordan was immediately suspicious “It looks a flying Padelball bat to me!”

“Similar I guess, but it has a different function, it follows you as you run, and will give you a tap if you slow down!” replied the Ranger

“…a… tap??” Now Jordan was really suspicious.

“It’s perfectly safe, all the top athletes are using them! Now get running or it will …. er …tap you!”

Jordan didn’t need to be asked twice as the humming noise turned into a whirring sound and the “drone” began to move towards him. He spun round and began running down the beach, keenly aware that the Ranger’s fiendish toy was pursuing him.

“Faster, faster … or it will tap you!” laughed Tartarus, rapidly pressing the buttons on the remote control devise operating the paddle drone.

On command the paddle drone swung into action spun, spinning forward and delivered a resounding whack to Jordans bare, jockstrap framed, behind.

“EEYYYOOW!!!” yelled Jordan “That was no ‘tap’ … this is a flying spanking paddle you B ….. OOOOWWWCH!” the paddle drone, controlled by Tartarus’s powerful thumbs, delivered a second stinging swat to the ever so tempting bottom.

“Keep running boy!” jeered Tartarus “lets see if you can out run it!! this will keep you fit, and get the fat off your massive ass!”

Jordan had no option other than to keep running, if he stopped the damn thing would hit him. Luckily for Jordan, he was extremely fit, and, therefore, spent the next hour running up and down the beach chased by a mechanical drone spanking paddle.

As noon approached the hot summer sun rose in the sky, topping up Jordan’s tan, while the paddle drone assisted in in boosting what might soon become an “all over” tan.

Meanwhile the Ranger sat back in his deckchair enjoying the view, and satisfied that he was doing what he could to keep his handsome young charge fit. As the day became warmer, he began to feel drowsy and his eyes began to close.

Though now calm, sunny and tranquil, Sunny Bay Cove had seen many storms over the years, and was littered with driftwood of various shapes and sizes, including a number of whole trees, ripped up from their roots by violent storms, before being carried on the tides for months and years until they arrived at the cove and thrown ashore as mangled and tortured husks, unrecognisable from their former verdant glory

Running and looking back over his shoulder, Jordan failed to see one such piece of driftwood ahead of him, and ran straight into it, he tripped and fell forward into the old husk of a tree, slipping between the trunk and a bent and deformed branch. The impact caused the structure to move slightly, and it seemed as if the old tree gripped the young Adonis tightly round the waste. At the same time, the snowy white jockstrap had become entangled within the branches, pulling the side straps up between his butt cheeks in a thong-like wedgie, and, in doing s, lifting his bottom up, so that his limper young body adopted an inverted ‘V’ pose, with his exposed bottom as it’s apex.

Statistically, the likelihood of attributing such a set of circumstances merely to Jordan’s ongoing streak of bad luck would be extremely remote, were one to ignore the Shaman’s spell, which was still working as it was intended to.

The position Jordan found himself in presented the paddle with an ideal target. Being programmed to follow it’s quarry (Jordan’s bottom) and strike it when slow moving or stationary, it proceeded to do exactly that, and do so repeatedly.

WHACK!!… WHACK!! …WHACK!! the paddle swats echoed around the empty beach. Accompanied by Jordan’s unanswered cries for help

Luckily for Jordan , there was, at that stage, little life left in the paddle drone’s battery, and after some ten minutes of rhythmic paddling, it ceased to work and fell to the ground. Unluckily though, by that stage the sun had reached it’s highest and hottest point, and shone down on our unlucky and trapped young hero. Adding a painful sunburn to the although thorough blistering it had received from the paddle.

And thus Jordan remained for a further hour and a half, before he was freed with the assistance of the Ranger, who explained that he had fallen asleep and not heard a thing. Whether Jordan believed him or not, there was nothing he could do about it.

Jordan spent a long and uncomfortable evening, crying and complaining at the pain in his bottom, against which neither ice packs or Calamine lotion offered any relief. Until he finally fell into a fitful and nightmare ridden sleep .

However, come the next morning, once again the remarkable healing power of Jordan’s bottom had taken effect overnight. When he looked in the bathroom mirror, Jordan could not believe what he saw.

Although the rest of his body was still pink, sore and sunburnt, his perfect bottom was back to its snowy white, and unmarked perfection. Looking to all the world, as if the punishment it had received only hours before had never happened.

Unknown to Jordan, it was, the Shaman’s rule never to break toys he wanted to play with again, and Jordan’s bottom, was certainly such a toy. Now restored to the ideal state for the next stage of his revenge, it was ready to be punished again, next time he so chose. In all likelihood, that would not be long in coming.

Jordan spun round, sure he had heard the sound of distant laughter, but, of course, there was nobody there.

To be continued