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The Shaman’s Revenge Part 15

The
Shaman’s Revenge Part 15
After
a sleepless night, Jordan was untied and dragged blinking into the
day light by the Cody brothers, Floyd, Billy Bob and their brooding
middle brother Seth. “It’s time for you to earn your keep boy!”
snarled Floyd “We’re gonna’ put you to work!”
“Please
let me go!” wailed Jordan “My Dad’s a rich man, he will pay for
the eggs and milk I took!”
“SO!”
growled the elder Cody brother “You think just ‘cos your a rich kid
you can steal from us farmers and that your rich Daddy can pay us off
do you?” he moved closer to Jordan so that his craggy, unshaven
face was inches from the frightened young jock’s “Well that ‘aint
the way it works around here!” he hissed 
 
With
that, the three men led the unhappy and naked Jordan out of the house
and across a nearby field towards some old barns, as Floyd encouraged
Jordan onward by jabbing his bare bottom with the sharply pointed
spikes of his pitchfork.
Jordan
considered attempting to escape, judging that in a sprint he could
almost certainly have out run the more heavily built Codys. However,
seeing the rile which Seth was carrying, he decided not to chance his
luck, as although he could outrun the men he could not outrun a
bullet. 
 
In
order to further encourage Jordan. As soon as the group reached the
barn, Floyd sat down on some bails of hay and threw the protesting
young swimmer over his knee before proceeded to administer a hard
hand spanking while Billy Bob held him down.
When
Floyd had finished spanking Jordan, he handed control of the new and
and unwilling ranch hand over to his bothers, and told them to put
him to work in the hay barn, before heading off to another part of
the ranch.
However,
as soon as their elder brother had departed the scene, it became
clear that, rather than working, the younger Cody brothers wanted to
play with their new toy.
“Hey
City boy!” Sneered Billy Bob “Make that squealy noise you made
when Floyd” whupped your ass!” then he said something which sent
a chill down Jodan’s spine, as Cindy Mae’s prophetic words from two
days before echoed in his brain “Make like a little piggy city
boy!”
“What
.. what do you mean?” stammered Jordan
“I
mean squeal like a piggy dumbo!” shouted Billy Bob, slapping
Jordan’s head with the back of his hand “Get down on your hands and
knees and crawl like prime bacon!”
Jordan’s
instinct was to protest, but once again the sight of the rifle, which
Seth was still holding, persuaded him to obey. Reluctantly he
lowered himself onto his hands and knees and attempted to grunt in
the manner he imagined most similar to a pig.
“No
Dickhead” shouted Seth “you need to squeal like a cute little
piggy, not grunt like a fat old sow!” 
 
“I
can make him squeal!” laughed Billy Bob, picking up a large carrot
“A piggy needs a tail!”
“Ha
Ha!” laughed Seth “Pin the tail on …. er .. up the piggy!”
Billy
Bob knelt down, and grabbed hold of Jordan and attempted to push the
carrot up the prone jock’s anus, as Jordan yelled in distress.
“Please guys, stop, don’t do this to me!!”
“This
city boy, sure has a tight ass!” complained Billy Bob as he pressed
the large carrot against the unyielding pucker of Jordan’s
instinctively contracted portal “I can’t get it in!”
Here,
Let me try , said Seth, taking hold of the carrot and kneeling down
between Jordan’s legs, while his brother straddled the unhappy jock
and held his butt cheeks apart.
 
Seth
gripped the carrot tightly in his fist and then rammed it deep into
Jordan, forcing it between the tight pink lips of his anus and then
up inside, as Jordan let out a shriek of discomfort and outrage.
“Yeah!
, that’s the noise piggy!” laughed Seth “that is a really piggy
squeak!”
Over
recent weeks Jordan had had the unaccustomed experience of various
items being inserted into his tight virgin portal, but the massive
carrot was the largest , by far the widest so far and certainly the
most uncomfortable so far. It was also an unusual sight, to see a
handsome young athlete on all fours with a large orange vegetable
together with it untrimmed green plumage protruding from his rear,
certainly more elaborately than any curly pigs’s tail.
The
Cody brother continued to have fun with their unlucky captive, making
him crawl around the barn with one or other brother riding on his
back.
“Crawl
faster pork chop!” yelled Billy bob as he jabbed at Jordan’s rear
with his sharp pitchfork.
Eventually
the Cody brothers tired of making Jordan act like a pig and roughly
pulled the carrot out of his backside. However, they had other plans
for him.
“I
think this City Boy would maker a better rooster than a pig!”
Laughed Billy Bob
“A
rooster?” replied Seth quisically
“Yes
with a big feathery tail!” replied Billy Bob
With
that they dragged Jordan out into the meadow next to the barn, and
tied his wrists and ankles together sop as to force him into a
chicken like pose.
Then,
after pulling a pair of leather gloves from his jeans pocket, Billy
bob set about creating a “big feathery rooster’s tail” with
nettles and poison ivy, which he proceeded to shove unceremoniously
up the tender part of Jordan where the carrot had previously been.
As
the boys laughed uproariously, Jordan was forced to waddle around the
farm yard clucking like a chicken, with his fiery, sting covered
“Tail” flapping behind him, the combined nettle stings and poison
ivy turning his tender orifice into a ring of fire, which was sure to
burn for days afterwards.
Jordan’s
backwoods adventure was becoming very uncomfortable
To
Be Continued ..
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Soccer Jock Humiliation

Soccer
Jock Humiliation

The coach’s methods were old
fashioned but very effective. He kept an especially embarrassing ping
pong paddle ready for swollen headed jocks like young Colton Fisher,
as he knew that the stinging humiliation of being publicly paddled,
over the knee like some kid, in front of his team mates, would stay with Colton long
after the fire in his tight little butt had faded.

However,
he planned to make sure that fire didn’t cool for quite some time,
certainly a lot longer than it would take for cell phone footage of
Colton’s embarrassing bare bottomed punishment the reach every jock
and Co-Ed on Campus. 

He
would not stop until Colton’s butt cheeks were glowing even redder
than the one’s on his face.
 _____________



It
this image inspires any of you to write the story around it, please
feel free to post it in the Comments section below

 

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The Fantasy Art of Mark (Part 3 of 4)

 
Here
is the third selection of the work of the Spanking fantasy artist
Mark, who has kindly agreed to contribute
to this blog.
There
is so much to enjoy in every picture Mark creates, from the sizzling
hot imagery to the cleverly chosen scenarios and wicked humour in the
text.
 

Click
on the Read More tab below to continue



Click here to view part One
and here for part two
You
can view more of Mark’s work at the JockSpank Blog by CLICKING HERE
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Introducing the Fantasy Art of Mark

 
Introducing
the Fantasy Art of Mark
Sore
Bottom Guys is thrilled to announce that the outstanding Spanking
fantasy artist Mark, has agreed to become an occasional contributor
to this blog.
Many
of you may know Mark for his postings to JockSpank,
but for others, discovering Mark’s work will be an exciting new gem
to add to their fantasy treasure box.
Mark’s
work can be enjoyed not only for the unquestioned cleverness and
skill of the artistry, but also for the incredible eroticism and
wicked humour, all directed where it should be at the very deserving
bottoms of handsome hunks, jocks, dudes and assorted bad boys, often
with an added dose of humiliation for good measure.
By
Way of introducing Mark to Sore Bottomed Gus, over the next few days
I will be reposting examples of Mark’s sexy images, selected by the
artist himself. These have been previously posted to JockSpank, but
are delights which are more than worth rediscovering!!
The
first of these selections are below, I know you will love them.
In
future, Mark will contribute to both sites, and we hope that from
time to time he will create images especially for Sore Bottomed Guys.

Click
on the Read More tab below to continue

TO BE CONTINUED
You
can see more of Mark’s work at the JockSpank Blog by CLICKING HERE
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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
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The Shaman’s Revenge Part 13 (Unlucky for Jordan)

The
Shaman’s Revenge Part 13 (Unlucky for Jordan)
Jordan
was a very unhappy jock, not only had he been abandoned in the middle
of the great American wilderness, facing a walk of over 70 miles to
get home, but he was bare ass naked as well.
If
that was not bad enough in itself, he knew for certain exactly what
would be happening within minutes of Cindy Mae Carpenter reaching the
vicinity of a telephone. She would phone every member of her vast
group of girlfriends to tell them that she had tricked that dumb jock
Jordan Draper into stripping naked, then stolen his clothes and left
him to walk home in his birthday suit.
He
knew Cindy Mae well enough to know how much she would relish boasting
about what she had done, and would make sure everyone knew every
detail. No doubt she would embroider the details, to boost her role
and make him appear even more comical than he already did. He
cringed, at the thought of her yapping voice, trilling with
excitement as he repeated the tale over and over again, and at the
scornful laughter which would greet the message.
Then
the friends, like a sonority from Hell, would tell their friends and
then all the girls in town would tell heir boyfriends, and within 24
hours it would be the talking point of every bar and and locker room
within a fifty mile radius. Everyone would have a good laugh at yet
another total humiliation for the guy who, only weeks before had top
jock on campus and master of all he surveyed.
He
knew that his good looks and sporting prowess, combined with his
arrogant manner meant a lot of people secretly resented him, and he
knew just how much they would enjoy his comeuppance, and telling
others about it. 
 
How
could he ever live this down and face his team mates and buddies, let
alone the local girls. The thought of their mocking laughter echoed
in his head, as he walked disconsolately on through the forest .
An
always in the background of his thoughts another face hovered, this
time a male one, also wearing a scornful and mocking expression.
Jordan had no idea how the ranger was behind what had happened to
him, but, somehow he knew he was.
After
walking for almost an hour his mind consumed by his mournful
thoughts, he realised that he was no longer on the road. He must
have left it without noticing and was now in open countryside. He
quickly spun round and looked behind him, but there was no sign of
the road, and he had no idea where he was.
As
he stood there, a look of horror and fear on his handsome face the
awful truth began to dawn on him, he was lost, naked and many miles
from home.
He
attempted to retrace his steps, but he had been so deep in thought he
had not taken note of his surroundings and, therefore he could not
identify any familiar location which would confirm he had been there
before. The upshot was that within twenty minutes he had completely
lost his bearings and was totally lost in increasingly unfriendly
terrain.
He
eventually reached a clearing in the middle of the forest, and found
himself in what appeared to be an overgrow, and, he incorrectly
assumed, unused, field, at the edge of which was a wire fence.
Jordan
realised that as the fence was self evidently man made, there must be
something beyond the fence, maybe the road, or some form of dwelling
where he could get help, despite how embarrassing that might be. He
therefore, made his way across the field towards the fence.
He
say there was a notice on the fence, but assuming it was an order not
to trespass, he did not bother to read it. He would have to trespass
if he was going to find help.
When
Jordan reached the fence he could see it was almost waist high, and
that was no obstacle for a lithe young athlete such as Jordan, He
could easily get get over such an easy object. 
Raising his body with
one foot on tip toe, he lifted the other leg so that he was
defectively straddling the fence. Unfortunately for Jordan, the
ground beneath the one bare foot which was taking hs whole body
weight was in fact the roof of a ground hog burrow. Hence at the
very point where his tentacles, prostate region and tight, still in
real terms virgin, anus were hovering above the wire. the ground
beneath him gave way.

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As
a result he tumbled and landed heavily on the wire one ball either
side and the puckered lips of his tight anus effectively gripping the
wire. 
 
At
that very instant, it became painfully clear to Jordan that the sign
he had ignored did not say “No Trespassing” but instead it said
“Warning Electric Fence”! This fact brought forcibly home
to our careless hero as a bolt of electricity shot straight into the
young swimmer’s most tender and intimate body parts, his butt hole,
balls and the thin ridge of flesh in between the two.
Apart
from the pain it engenders, another unfortunate aspect of an electric
shock can be to cause a brief paralysis rendering the victim
temporarily immobile. In Jordan’s case, he was only frozen to the
spot for a matter of seconds. However, this was just long enough to
allow a second pulse of the fire like current to shoot into the
delicate rosebud pink sphincter muscles still embracing the wire, and
sending Jordan leaping into the air with a shriek of unmitigated
agony.
It
may be true that in an empty forest there is nobody to hear you
scream, but Jordan’s cry was loud enough to send a rookery of crows
in the trees above flying squawking into the air, and a herd of wild
deer in the forest bolted in terror to the deeper thickets.
Now
free of the horrid fence, Jordan stumbled around, bent almost double
and clutching his behind, his mind focused on nothing bit the pain
throbbing in his most private ad sensitive of regions.
Given
that the power with in the fence was designed to discourage farm
animals, but not to actually brand them, it was not enough to cause
scaring burns or a lasting injury. However, as the part of Jordan’s
anatomy which had come into contact with the electric fence was
especially tender, he had suffered a degree of scorching which caused
severe pain and would leave him in a level of embarrassing discomfort
for quite a while.
As
Jordan stood still, holding his posterior and engrossed in the pain
and misery of his situation, he hardly noticed the rumbling sound
behind him, which he assumed was thunder and that his streak of bad
luck was about to result in him being soaked by a storm.

However,
Jordan’s bad luck was in fact considerably worse even than he though.
The rumbling sound was not caused by a gathering thunder storm, but
by the approach of the of the very beast which the electric fence
was there to contain. An angry young bull, which was, at that moment
charging towards Jordan with it’s head down.
By
a pure miracle, Jordan escaped being gored by centimetres, as the
bull’s horns went either side of him, however the granite hard bone
of the animal’s forehead hit Jordan’s bottom with a bruising impact
of a fast moving truck, sending the boy flying high into the air, and
over a nearby hedge.
Stunned
sore and winded, Jordan was launched like a missile launched from a
catapult and flew through the air for some considerable distance.
However,
as they say, what goes up, must eventually come down. There were
mixed blessing’s to the landing pad which nature had provided for
Jordan. 
It was soft enough to cushion his fall, but by no means pain
free, as he landed, bare bottom first into a patch of stinging
nettles.
For
the second time in mere moments, Jordan’s mortified screams echoed
through the forest, followed by a succession of whimpering cries as
the cruel leaves continued to inflict their tiny white, but stinging
and burning blisters, as the unlucky young jock struggled to his
feet.
Other
parts of him had been stung but all the pain seemed to radiate from
his his cute an well rounded. Once pearly white backside, now glowing
pink and reddening with punishment.
As
ever, the old Shaman’s curse, had but one target. Jordan had taunted
the old man with the words “Kiss my ass” and the elderly warlock
continued to do just that! In the space of less than five minutes,
Jordan’s vulnerable bare bottom had been scorched with electricity,
butted by a bull an comprehensively stung by nettles. The handsome
but unlucky young buck did not know it, but the Shaman was only just
warming up.
Hot
tears of pain and distress streaked Jordan’s still beautiful face, as
the one time proud jock stood in the forest, clutching his bottom and
crying like a baby.
It
was he guessed his overwrought imagination, but it seemed as if he
could hear laughter echoing echoing through the trees.
Jordan’s
predicament was getting more complicated by the hour, he may now be
safe from the bull, which was in the other side of the hedge, but it
was also between him and whatever lay beyond the fence. Be it a road
or a ranch, due to the angry snorting he could hear from the other
side of the hedge, there was no way he was brave enough to face it
and find out.
His
best option was to try and find a way through the forest. As he
reluctantly turned back towards the forest he realised that dusk was
starting to fall. His heart sunk even further, and not only at the
prospect of a night in the wilderness, but also as he knew his father
would be home any moment and would discover that Jordan had disobeyed
him and gone out instead of staying home and studying.
Disobedience
compounded by staying out all night meant that Mr Draper’s eldest boy
was in big trouble. As his Dad seemed to have only one answer to any
misbehaviour these days. Jordan was in no doubt that his Dad’s
slipper, a hairbrush or a paddle would be waiting for him and his
already very sore bottom when he got home.
Jordan
spent a long cold night naked in the forest and he got no sleep,
mainly because of the throbbing pain in his rear, but also because
he was keenly aware of movements in the dark woods around him, and
the eery feeling that he was not alone.
At
last it was dawn, and before moving on Jordan took time to bath
himself in a forest stream, finding some sensual relief in the cool
water as it refreshed his body and acted as a balm to his aching
limbs. Although he had no access to a mirror, he was aware to his
amazement that his bottom’s amazing powers of recovery were once
again in evidence. All the bruising and redness had vanished over
night and his cute little tush was again as smooth and white as a
baby’s, just as it had been before the unfortunate incident with the
fence, bull and nettles.
Jordan
could not understand how his bottom could recover from so much
punishment in a few hours, but it was a relief that it did.
Other
matters soon distracted him from the improvement to his bottom, for a
start he was feeling very hungry, and due to his failed to learn
anything in the short period before he was expelled from the Boy
Scouts of America, he had no idea what in the woods was safe to eat.
It
was imperative that he found food and clothes. So he set off in the
direction he hoped would lead to the road.
He
had walked for about two hours, and, as the sun was now quite high in
the sky, he guessed it was now mid morning, but there was still no
sign of the road. Then he spotted an object in the distance, which
he thought might possibly be a house.
As
he got closer he could see that he was correct, it was a building.
In fact there were a small cluster of buildings, which he from what
he could make out was a small ranch house and a couple of barns. A
ranch meant there could be a rancher and maybe a rancher’s wife,
hopefully a kindly country couple, which he might previously have
dismissed as Hillbillies, who might give him food, lend him clothing,
and help him to get home.
It
would be deeply embarrassing and humiliating, to turn up at the
ranch, stark naked and begging for help, but he had no other option.
For
a brief moment Cindy’s Mae’s mocking comment about the film
“Deliverance” echoed in his mind, but he quickly dismissed that.
He hurried on towards the farm, and reassuringly could not hear the
sound of a banjo … at least not yet.
TO
BE CONTINUED