Caption it – Two

A second picture created some while ago but which never developed into a story. If this inspires anyone to write a caption, or, if you feel really creative, to describe the scenario, please post it in the “comments” section below. 

Caption it – One


This is the first of two pictures I put together a couple of years ago, but which I have not had time to develop into a story. It seems a waste not to publish it, so I decided to leave it to blog readers to decide what is happening.

If you can think of a suitable caption, revealing, for instance what one of the characters might be saying, or if you want to go further and write a few paragraphs explaining what you think is going on, what the story is behind it, or what you think might happen next, please feel free to add your creative input to the comments section below.
Go for it, let your imagination go wild!! 

The Sting of the Jungle IV – Boy gets his bottom singed

Boy
sat on the edge of the lake, trying to think of something different
to do for a change. He was bored, there was only so much to do in the
jungle, apart from swinging on vines and taking a swim in the lake
there really was no fun, at least, not the sort of fun a 19 year old
boy wants to have.
He
dreamed of living in the city. In the city he could go to raves, hang
out with some cool dudes or go watch some chicks pole dance. Whereas
in the West African rainforest the closest he had got to fun had
peeping at the village girls bathing in the river, until they had
spotted him and reported him to Tarzan, with the inevitable
consequences.

He
left the lake and headed back into the jungle, deciding he would build
a camp fire and roast a yam and some sweet potatoes.
Unfortunately
for the jungle creatures, when Boy was bored his sadistic streak came
out, and having no humans smaller than himself available to bully,
he often enjoyed torturing small animals. He was in just such a mood when, after he had made the
camp fire, Boy spotted an unwary frog hopping by.

Boy’s
agile young body was swifter than the frog, he quickly caught it and
laughing cruelly he dangled the unlucky creature over the flames.
As
usual, however, Boy’s luck ran out just as he had begin to enjoy
himself, as Tarzan strode into the clearing and saw what he was
doing.
Tarzan
strode forward, snatched the frog from boy’s hand and dropped it
safely into the grass.
Suspecting a spanking was on the cards, Boy attempted to escape, but too late, Tarzan
grabbed him by the wrist with one hand while he tore off the younger
man’s loin cloth with the other. Tarzan then lifted boy up and held
him bottom down over the camp fire “How do you like it?” he snarled
“How do you feel being dangled over the fire?” he lowered Boy
closer to the flames “Shall I drop you?” he demanded “should I
throw your bottom into the fire, just as you were about to do to that poor frog?”
Boy
could feel the heat from the flames, just a few feet from his
backside, his instinctive desire to struggle tempered by the fear
that doing so might actually cause Tarzan to drop him.
I
tell you what” growled Tarzan, “I am going to toast your backside
anyway!” with that, he sat down on a fallen tree trunk and threw
Boy over his lap. “If you are going to be cruel to animals, I
shall be cruel to you!” he said, and, with that, he proceeded to
give Boy’s bare bottom a long, hard and very well deserved spanking.
Finally,
after a very long spanking, Tarzan stormed off, leaving Boy rubbing
his very sore bottom.

Boy
spotted the frog and with the lopsided logic of the very selfish,
decided that the poor creature was somehow to blame for what had
happened. He aimed a kick at the frog which sent it flying through
the air. However, the violence of the kick caused boy to loose his
balance.
It
seemed that Karma had come back to burn our bad boy on the ass, as he
stumbled and fell backwards
Landing
bare bottom first into the smouldering camp fire
Ahhh!!!”
boy screamed in genuine agony as his, already very sore and tender
bottom landed heavily amongst the flames and red hot coals. Fate had
decided to to deliver justice in a very painful manner.

 

Boy
jumped to his feet, clutching his well singed behind.
Letting
out an agonized shriek he ran through the jungle clutching his
bottom, desperate to reach water to cool his roasted behind.
On
reaching the rived boy lowered his punished and burnt behind into the
water in an attempt to cool off the burning pain. However, it would be many days before his bottom stopped stinging

Meanwhile
boys carelessly placed camp fire set fire to a large area of jungle
causing serious damage to the local environment.
Later,
Tarzan rubbed soothing cream into Boy’s griddled rump, and as he did
so lectured the younger man about the damage he had caused and
telling him exactly what would be done to him once his bottom had
healed.

It
would take a couple of weeks for Boy’s bottom to recover, and return
to it’s usual pert, white and very spankable state. However, Boy decided
he had no intention of still being around when it did, as he knew
what Tarzan had planned.
That
night as Tarzan slept, Boy stole the older man’s savings and then
took the canoe down river to the nearest city, where he used the
money to purchase a one way ticket to America.
As
Boy made his escape, he hoped he would also escape the pain in the
ass which his life had become! However, little did he know the
sangoma’s curse had not gone away and would follow him across the Atlantic …..
The
End??

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)