A Sore Bottom For Travis

A Sore Bottom For Travis

(A Sore Bottom For Travis, written by StricTop and Illustrated by Bruce, was first published elsewhere in September 2011)

“Muh-ther-FUK-ker!”

It was his standard response to any annoying situation. And it seemed to Travis that more than his share of situations were annoying lately, if not downright frustrating. Not being the brightest bulb on the tree, Travis’ many brilliant ideas often had a way of just not working out.

“Muh-ther-FUK-ker!” He whined to no one in particular.

For Travis, ‘motherfucker’ referred to all the nameless, faceless people and circumstances that conspired to keep him from getting what he wanted—easy money, free drugs, and plenty of sex.

“Fukfukfukfukfuk!!” He crumpled the envelope he was holding and threw it angrily at the blank TV.

Tiffany, Travis’ latest in a long line of girlfriends, stuck her head in from the kitchen. She had one of those flawless faces that are irretrievable after the age of 28 and that crowd every nightspot and modelling agency from Encino to East L.A.

“What is it, Travis, honey? What are you yelling about?” She flipped her perfect, shiny blonde hair with surgical precision and blinked at him from wide-set, almond-shaped eyes. She wiggled over and settled in beside him on the sofa.

“Honey, don‘t get so upset.” She stroked his head and cooed soothingly. “Don‘t waste all that energy on unimportant little things.” She clearly had no idea what was actually bothering him. “You‘re going to need all the energy you got for the game next week…and for me…” She adopted what she thought was her sexiest pout and ran her hand across the front of his chest.

Travis White had picked her up the previous weekend at one of the hotter clubs in town and she had been staying with him ever since—that is, staying at the million-dollar condo in Westwood that belonged to his uncle, Charlie White. But she didn‘t know that. Travis had told her it was his place and his car. He had also told her that he was on the starting lineup of the Los Angeles Dodgers. The bar was about to close. She was drunk. He was flashing around a lot of cash. And neither of them thought past the end of Travis’ dick.

They went home that night and had amazing sex. What each lacked in IQ points, they more than made up for in good looks and sexual enthusiasm. She wanted to believe she had hooked up with a big baseball star—and he intended to let her.

The deal was clinched when he showed up the next afternoon with a giant bottle of her favorite perfume. She had seen it in the store and knew exactly what it cost. Unconcerned that large-bottle-size rarely predicted quality, they each beamed with their own inner pride—she, pleased at how easy it was to get him to buy her the most expensive thing on the counter; he gloating that the ridiculously-priced bottle was a knock-off he had purchased for five bucks on the street.

The giant bottle gleamed obscenely on the coffee table while Travis’ thoughts drifted to the note crumpled on the floor.

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The Shaman’s Revenge Chapter 22 (Part 2)

The Shaman’s Revenge Chapter 22 (Part 2)

Jordan and the Speedos from Hell continued

The pool was entirely empty when Jordan dived in and swam a full length under water. For the first time in weeks, Jordan felt a sense of freedom and relief as his skimmed through the cool deep water, wuith the sleekness and agility of a fit young otter. Swimming was the one thing in the world at which he was the most accomplished, and if had had the determination and self discipline to overcome his naturally lazy and self indulgent nature, he could potentially have been a world class athlete.

However, the inevitable of Jordan Draper’s life was that the flaws in his character would forever outweigh his virtues, and, consequentially, he would never achieve his natural potential.

As observers, therefore, we must content ourselves with appreciating his physical beauty and enjoying his ongoing and well deserved discomforts and humiliations.

However, at that moment, Jordan was free from the myriad discomforts which had recently plagued his life. The Ranger, his new guardian, had agreed he could have a morning free from chores and had dropped him off at the old swimming pool at the edge of town “You can relax today” he had said “Tomorrow you have an important role to play at the local charity fair!”

Jordan had no idea what was planned for the fair, but hoped he would at least be allowed to wear clothes. Meanwhile today, it was just a relief to have some cover albeit only his tiny blue speedos.

For a short while he was free of the sense of dread of what might befall him next, which hay have been a kindness, given what was in store for him.

After completing a dozen laps of the pool, Jordan climbed out and made his way along the side of the pool planning to get himself a coke from the vending machine he had noticed by the entrance. He was then he realised he was no longer alone, when he spotted three figures in swimming trunks walking towards him.

At first he did not recognise them, but they certainly recognized him “Hi Jordan!” sniggered Dewey Rees a small built guy in baggy red swimming shorts “Aren’t you supposed to be bare assed? I head you burnt your asshole!”

Jordan glowered at Dewey, furious at this further evidence that the news of his humiliating situation was spreading like wild fire. “Shut up, if you want to keep your teeth!” he snarled.

Don’t threaten my brother!” boomed a second, much larger guy in an angry voice

He always threatens smaller kids!” chimed in the third guy, Sammy Mason, who was also smaller than average “He’s Jordan Draper, the bully we told you about!”

Dewey grinned at Jordan. “This is my BIG brother Bruno!” He’s really pleased to meet you!”

Until too late Jordan had not noticed how large and muscular Bruno was, otherwise he might have been more cautious, but before he could react Dewey’s big brother had grabbed him and thrown him over his shoulder. “We are going to have some fun with you!” he growled

The swimming pool was next to a derelict building, which had once been a sports centre, where Bruno carried the struggling and protesting Jordan, followed by a broadly grinning Dewey and Sammy.

Once inside what had once been the old locker room of the centre, Bruno tied Jordan’s wrists to an exposed beam, forcing him to stand on Tip toe. Meanwhile Dewey produced a role of duct tape, which he used to bing Jordan’s long athletic legs together.

When Jordan objected, a further strip of tape was placed over his mouth, effectively silencing him.

Heuy Jordan” grinned Dewey “Remember those games you used to play with us kids? .. and the ….. um … tricks? Well lets see how you like them when we play them on you.”

Remember that itching powder you put in the kids clothes while they were in the shower?” he continued “Well we’ve got a different brand … this one is extra strong itching powder” he held up a small bag while tossing a similar bag of white powder to Sammy.

It says ‘Worse that a cartload of fleas’ on the packet!” giggled Sammy

Well you are about to find out if that is true!” sneered Dewey as he pulled at the waist band of Jordan’s speedos creating a gap at the back enabling him to sprinkle the contents of the itching powder package over the cheeks of Jordan’s exposed backside, ensuring at least half the powder went down the tight crack between the cheeks.

Meanwhile, Sammy did the same to the front of the speedos, tipping the contents of his bag over Jordan’s cock and balls.

It took a moment for the powder to take effect, and then, suddenly, Jordan became aware of the most extreme and infuriating itching sensation he had ever experienced. He struggled and writhed in extreme discomfort, desperate to pull off his speedos and try to brush the vile substance off himself, but could do nothing as his hands were tied to the beam above his head.

Sammy attempted to maintain a straight face, however Dewey laughed so hard he almost made himself sick. He and his friends had endured years of bullying and hazing by Jordan Draper, so he was enjoying every second of his tormentor’s suffering.

Meanwhile a grinning Bruno ambled to the cornor and picked up a large glass jar “I guess that powder must be irritating you a mite Guy?” he drawled “But don’t worry, my little friends here will eat it all!”

He held up the jar, which Jordan, to his horror saw was full of ants!

Remember that spider you put down Becky Rutter’s shirt?! Sniggered Dewey, “well we couldn’t find a spider, but the ants will be a good substitute!… they are fire ants, so if they nip you, it might sting a little!”

.”… or Sting a lot!” corrected Sammy.

It suddenly occurred to Jordan that the itching powder and ants must have been bought there specially for him, this was no chance encounter, they had known in advance that he would be at the pool. So someone, either the Ranger or Harley must have been in on the plan.

Jordan did not have time to think any more about the set up as he other things to concentrate on, around forty very small but very ferocious things, as Bruno stepped forward, tugged at the waist band of his blue speedos, and tipped the angry contents of the jar into the gap, shaking the jar firmly to ensure every ant fell in, before allowing the tight lycra to snap back into place with all the ants trapped between it and the tender still wildly itching surface of Jordan’s bottom.

Unlike the itching powder, the ants took no time in making their presence known. They may be trapped and lagely immobile , but the one part they could move were their sharp jaws with which they ferociously attacked every inch of Jordan’s poor bottom.

A large number of the fire ants had slipped between his cheeks and they set about biting that intimate and sensitive area, even his rosebud like anus was not spared.

The fire ants certainly lived up to their name, and within seconds, Jordan felt as if his entire bottom was literally on fire.

Jordan’s three assailants stood back, laughing with delight as Jordan hopped up and down, writing in agony and the rapacious insect assault on his nether regions his silent screams muffled by the duct tape covering his mouth.

It was then that all three of Jordan’s new tormentor’s produced a selection of old wooden paddles, both fraternity paddles with greek letters or old fashioned domestic paddles with quaint phrases on them.

We will kill those nasty biting ants for you!” laughed Bruno “Isn’t that good of us?!”

Within moments, the sound of three wooden paddles whacking against ther seat of Jordan’s speedoes echoed round the abandoned building and continued for quite some time.

Jordan’s previous were certainly relishing their revenge.

Some hours later, after Jordan had not returned at the time he had been instructed to, the Ranger and Jordan’s hated cousin Harley went to the pool looking for him. When they found he was not, the Ranger suggested they should check the abandoned sports centre next door, and that is where they found a very sore and unhappy Jordan.

Still tied up and duct tape gagged, he had been hing fron the ceiling by his blue speedos, in an uncomfortable and embarrassing wedgie. Adding to his humiliation a white surrender flag protruded from between his two now red and bad badly bruised and bitten butt cheeks, having been inserted deep into his ant bitten anus.

Jordan Draper was one bully who had certainly met his comeuppance!

To be continued..

The Humiliation of Redman Dane: Prologue and Chapter One

WARNING: The Humiliation of Redman Dane is a breeches ripping tale of the misfortunes of an arrogant young gentleman in Edwardian England. This is a partially Fem Dom / CFNM story, created following numerous requests. Therefore, in addition to the usual Sore Bottomed Guys features, the young hero is also humiliated and punished by females.

If this does not appeal to you please do not read further, However, those who do wish to see more please click HERE or on the Continue Reading tab below

Continue reading “The Humiliation of Redman Dane: Prologue and Chapter One”

The Shaman’s Revenge – Part 3

 The
Shaman’s Revenge Part Three

Click
here for previous episodes –
Prologue
Part 1
Part 2
Part
3
Jordan
Draper was pissed. Things were not working out as he had expected.
This was supposed to be a a day he would really enjoy, it was the day
he was going to get his revenge on on that queer Martin Clifford and
his little faggot boyfriend. Jordan had been looking forward to his
vengeance and being able to watch in triumph as their crummy little
lives were destroyed. But how could he enjoy it when his butt was
stinging like it had just been attacked by those God Damn hornets
again.
He
couldn’t believe that jerk of a doctor could spank so hard, it was an
hour since that creep had spanked him, and he backside was still
stinging and throbbing as bad as it did while he was still over the
fucker’s knee.
An
that asshole had jabbed him in the butt with those god-damn needles.
Man they hurt!! and apparently he was supposed to let the creepy Doc
jab him again later in the week …. twice! He had to find a way to
get out of that, but without getting himself into more shit with the
fucking coach.
The
very thought of the coach sent a shudder down his spine. That was
one bastard he did not want to upset!!
To
make matters worse, those damn three day old hornet stings were also
starting to hurt again, the Doc must have set them off again with his
damn spanking …. fuck him!! he would like to shoot that quack in
the balls, slowly, one at a time, if only he dared!
The
spanking from the doctor was not only still painful, it was also
embarrassing, given how much his butt still hurt, Jordan guessed it
was still very red. He was about to have to change for swimming
practice and he did not want the team to see he had been spanked. He
just hoped his speedos would cover it, and that he could slip away
unnoticed without a shower after swimming.
He
arrived at the locker room and found that the team were sharing the
locker room with some members of the men’s lacrosse team who had also
just finished their game. Jordan noticed that Martin Clifford and
his “little f#ggot boyfriend” were both there, he wondered how
long it would be before those two scumbags discovered the surprise he
has in store for them.
Jordan
began to undress, keeping his back turned towards the locker, so that
nobody would see his red bottom. It was then the next of the day’s
series of disasters struck. As soon as he took the speedos out of his
sports bag he could see they were not his, he had accidentally
grabbed his 13 year old brother’s swimming trunks from the washing
line instead of his own.
Jordan’s
brother was not only five years younger than him, we was a much
smaller build and, therefore, wore
considerably
smaller pants! Jordan was not even sure he could even fit into his
brother’s trunks, they would certainly not cover his spanked, red,
butt.
Jordan,
looked around frantically searching for a way out of this nightmare
predicament, maybe he could exchange speedos with another swimmer
when he wasn’t looking.
STOP
DAWDLING DRAPER!

the coach’s voice boomed across the locker room “get into those
swimming trunks Now …. I am watching you boy!”
Jordan
felt a sinking feeling at the pit of his stomach, there was no
escape, he was going to have to put on his little brother’s speedos,
and just hope they stretched enough to coverer is bright red ass. 
 
Nemesis
can be a bi#ch, and it was bad luck all round for our handsome young
anti-hero. As one might expect, there was no way that swimming trunks
designed to fit a, small framed 13, year old were going to cover the
well rounded, just spanked bottom, of an 18 year old athlete. After
a major struggle pulling the damn things up his legs, the tiny
garment not only gripped his dick and balls in a crushingly tight
squeeze, but most of the seat disappeared right up his butt crack
leaving the major part of his glowing red butt cheeks fully exposed.
Beads
of cold sweat trickled down his forehead as the horror of the
situation rushed through his mind, the whole team would see that he
had been spanked, like some scummy little kid.
He
had to cover himself somehow, where was his towel? Oh S##t!! He had
forgotten his fucking towel!
Hey
Buddy!” whispered a voice behind him “Your ass is red man!! Why
is your ass so red?!”
Jordan
spun round to see Kirk Woods, someone he had always thought to be a
friend staring at him in amazement “Keep your fucking mouth
shu….!” Jordan began to snarl before, too late, he realised his
mistake. By turning round to look at Kirk, he had turned his back
view to the to the locker room, which, as observant readers will
recall, had twenty or so half naked swimmers and lacrosse players in
it.
The
reaction was instant and explosive, cheers, whistles and catcalls
echoed around the room, as the evidence of Jordan’s rosy pink
humiliation was revealed to the the two teams of young men.
You’ve
been spanked dude! ….. hey guys look … he’s had a whuppin’!”
shouted a lacrosse team player as the others whooped, sneered and
began crowding round the unhappy young swimmer.
Jordan’s
face began to turn almost as pink as his bottom, this had to be the
ultimate nightmare for someone with the inflated ego of Jordan Draper
… oops … then it got worse ..!!
The
strain on his brothers tiny speedos had proved more than they could
take, and the seat slowly began splitting, thread by thread, right
down the centre of the seat, revealing the full expanse of Jordan’s
bright pink butt crack.
To
say that Jordan was mortified, did not come close to describing to
feelings of embarrassment and humiliation rushing through the
handsome young athlete’s brain. The whole college would know that
he, the top jock on campus, had been spanked,… spanked like a
naughty little boy, and now the last vestige of dignity to cover his
shame was literally falling apart apart.
At
that moment Coach Amundsen stepped “Gentlemen! Behave yourselves!”
he shouted, “Or you will all end up with bottoms as red as young
Draper’s!”
Confronted
with the Coach’s unquestioned authority, and the threat in his words,
the two teams both fell into immediate obedient silence. “Now
gather round here” the coach continued “Deputy Principal Graves
has something important to say to you all!”
The
young men turned to face the door, through which Deputy Principle
Graves had just entered the room with a very grim expression on his
face. He was accompanied by the College’s chief security officer
Norman Timmins.
Good
morning teams!” he said, his tone dour and serious “Please listen
carefully, I regret that I have a very serious matter to talk to you
about”
The
two teams approached the elderly gentleman as requested, as Jordan
joined them, attempting to keep his exposed bottom towards the
lockers. He alone among the assembled Sportsmen, knew exactly what
the “serious issue” was. However, this was not the way it was
supposed to happen, the two faggots were about to be destroyed, but
he could not enjoy it in the way he had planned to because he, too
had been so completely humiliated.
Two
very valuable trophies have gone missing from the display cabinet in
the Principal’s Office!” continued Deputy Principle Graves, his
voice matching his name with its sombre gravitas. “As there is
currently no evidence of an intruder, we have regretfully reached the
conclusion that the items may have been …… removed … by a
member, or members, of the college fraternity.!”
He
paused and looked round the room before adding “For that reason,
before we contact the police, we need to conduct a search of all
lockers, starting here in the male locker room!” He then added
grimly “Now please open your lockers!”
A
shocked mumble travelled around the room, crime was rare at such a
prestigious institution and the boys were genuinely outraged that
prized sports trophies could have been stolen.
The
Deputy Principle then followed Officer Timmins as he began
methodically searching each locker in turn. Within moments the first
of the two stolen trophies, a silver cup won by the lacrosse team the
previous year was found in young Rubin Dorbney’s locker.
Rubin
gasped in horror “I didn’t … I didn’t!” he cried “please sir
.. I didn’t!”
Silence
boy!” snapped Principal Graves, while Martin Clifford placed
himself between his trembling lover and his now very angry looking
team mates.
The
second missing trophy, a silver statue of a swimmer standing on a
tiny marble plinth was soon discovered in Martin Clifford’s locker,
as Jordan, of course, knew it would be, having carefully placed it
there the evening before.
Despite
his earlier embarrassment, Jordan still felt a malicious grin flitter
across his face. His day might have been ruined, his ass might be on
fire, but at least it was about to get even worse for that queer
little f#ggot!
It
did not take Martin more than a moment to figure out what had
happened, and who was behind it, he searched for Jordan Draper in the
crowd of now very hostile boys and his suspicions were confirmed as
soon as he saw Jordan’s malevolent expression.
Principal
Graves, his face thunderous with fury. stepped forward to face Martin
and Rubin, the latter being now on the verge of tears. “I can not
believe that two boys like you would ….”
One
moment Mr Graves, sir!” Coach Amundsen interrupted “I believe we
may be about perform a miscarriage of justice!” he looked at Martin
Clifford and continued “I believe I have evidence which exonerates
these two fine young men!”
The
coach then explained what he had seen on the Sunday evening. “I saw
someone placing objects, which I now believe were the sports trophies
into Clifford and Daubeny’s lockers!” he paused “the clear
intention was to incriminate two innocent young men!”
That
is incredible!” gasped Principal Graves “Did you recognise this
person?!”
The
Coach turned and looked at Jordan before replying “I certainly
did!” he said “It was Jordan Draper!”
Fuck
off!” yelled Jordan backing away from the coach “It was those
fagg … those two crooks not me!!” he turned seeking some form of
escape but found his exit blocked by three burly lacrosse players.
This
puts a very different perspective on matters!” said Mr Graves,
remembering that Jordan’s parents were major donors to College funds
“We will need to give serious consideration to what action to
take!” he stopped and looked at the now clearly panic stricken
Jordan Draper, a handsome boy, and a gifted athlete, but also an
arrogant bully, for whom he felt a natural dislike, and suddenly a
small voice in his head made the usually cautious man react on
impulse. “However, I feel that some punishment is called for!”
he said
Oh
yes, indeed Sir!” replied the Coach as he strode towards Jordan
“There will be punishment … it will be immediate, and it will be
in public!”
He
grabbed hold of Jordan’s ear and pulled the protesting youth to an
open area at the centre of the vast locker room. He then spun Jordan
round and scooped hold of the back of his speedos in his fist,
pulling them unto a painful “wedgie” and forcing him to stand on
tip-toe.
Please
Coach! Don’t!” stuttered Jordan “you got it all wrong, I can
explain!”
Wrong?”
stormed Coach, “The only thing wrong is that little bottom of
yours, it isn’t near red enough yet!!! He looked at the boys and
pointed to Jordan’s behind “What do you guys think?” he said “Is
that behind red enough?!”
The
reply from the assembled group was as loud as it was predictable as
every swimmer and lacrosse player in the room enthusiastically agreed
with Coach Amumdsen that Jordan’s needed to be a lot redder than it
was.
Jordan’s
impulse was to run, but the the Coach’s vice like grip on the tiny
speedos made escape impossible.
Coach
Amundson smiled as if reading Jordan’s mind and then called out to
Martin “Clifford, I think I recall seeing a Table Tennis bat in
your locker, could I borrow that please!”
Martin
didn’t need asking twice and within moments he had darted to his
locker retrieved the ping pong paddle and handed it to the Coach.
To
be given a wedgie when wearing undersized speedos was uncomfortable
and embarrassing enough but what happened next took Jordan’s
humiliation to a whole new level.
Coach
Amundsen had significant upper body strength, only not did he play
tennis and racquet ball most days, but his vacations were spent
mountain climbing in either the Rocky Mountains or back in his
Scandinavian homeland where his arms often had to lift his full
bodyweight plus a heavy backpack.
Even
so, lifting a 157 lbs, 18 year old, swimmer with one arm, although
not an insurmountable challenge, would usually require considerable
effort. However, that day, it was as if an external force boosted
his strength, enabling him to lift Jordan with relative ease.
Like
a crane lifting a ship’s cargo from a jetty, the coach’s muscular arm
rose, and Jordan’s wedgie exposed bottom rose with it until his whole
body was dangling in the air with his feet off the ground and and
only the tips of his fingers were touching the floor.
Then
as if beating a dinner gong, the coach began spanking Jordan’s
uplifted bottom with the pig pong bat as the swimmers and lacrosse
players cheered and applauded every whack!
Deputy
Principal Graves looked on in stunned bewilderment, unlike the
younger men who were merely enjoying the entertainment, he was amazed
at the Coach’s display of strength which seemed to his academic mind
almost herculean.
Martin
watched with a mixture of admiration and delight, tempered by some
concern that the growing bulge in his pants might be a little too
obvious.
Jordan
could not believe what was happening, having limited knowledge of
anatomy and having persistently scored an ‘F’ in Physics, if was not
the fact that the Coach was able to lift him so easily which amazed
him, it was that such an embarrassing, painful and downright
humiliating thing was happening to him, Jordan Draper, the top Jock
and coolest dude on campus.
Hanging
in the air in an inverted ‘V’ shape, with his perfectly rounded, and
now very red and very bare bottom as its apex whilst being spanked
with a ping pong paddle, in front of two teams of cheering college
jocks, was the most humiliating thing that had ever happened in his
18 years of life (
hint:
ahem … So far
).
On
top of all this, his now well punished bottom was burning like a
furnace, and that would not be letting up any time soon. 
 
WHACK!,
the ping pond bat landed on one cheek, then WHACK! it hit the other,
each time briefly leaving an angry red circle which then spread to
become part of the overall cherry redness of the unlucky swimmer’s
butt cheeks.
In
those day before YouTube and Jackass, the watching athletes had never
witnessed such a bizarre and entertaining spectacle before, and it
was one which they would talk about, amongst themselves and everyone
else, for years to come.
What
made the scene all the more enjoyable for the assembled jocks was the
fact that the guy getting his bare butt paddled, while, at the same
time, receiving an atomic wedgie was, Jordan Draper.
Up
until then, Jordan had maintained his position at the top of the pack
through his bullying tactics and the force of his ego, as well as his
good looks sporting prowess. However, secretly none of them liked
him and all resented him. It was, therefore, additionally thrilling
to see him get his comeuppance.
As
is the way with such men, having scented weakness in the previous
pack leader, they were now hungry for more.
Thirty
paddle whacks, fifteen per cheek, later, the overly stretched fabric
of Jordan’s brother’s speedos gave way, and Jordan, now naked as a
baby fell to the floor with a thud, leaving the torn material still
clenched in the coach’s fist.
Casting
the torn trunks aside the Coach then grabbed Jordan by the arm and
pulled him to his feet, before leading him to some cupboards at the
centre of the locker room where sports equipment was kept. “Climb
on top of those” he ordered “On your hands and knees!”
Reluctantly
Jordan obeyed, anxious to avoid further spanking and was soon on top
of the cupboards, in what might be unkindly called ‘the doggie
position’ on his hands and knees, with his bare cherry pink bottom in
the air. The mortified Jock knew that in this position both his
balls and puckering pink anus were fully displayed, but being totally
nude, he had nothing to cover himself with.
My
arm is getting a bit tired!” lied the coach “Would one of you
guys like to take over for a moment?”
Of
course there were twenty or more volunteers, but Scott Rather, the
captain of the lacrosse team and Jordan’s main rival for top sports
jock at college was the first to push his way to the front, more than
eager to demonstrate his mastery of his long time rival by beating
his cute butt.
Be
my guest!” smiled the Coach, handing the bat to the beaming
lacrosse player. “Not too hard mind!”
Of
course that was one order which Scott Colby did not obey, swinging
the bat behind his head he brought it down with a loud whack across
the centre of of Jordans, raised backside, deliberately aiming at the
tiny pink rosebud nestling between the cheeks. This whack was
followed by a second, thgird and fourth, all equally hard, causing Jordan to let out a howl
of pain!
One of the swimmers remembered that he had a polaroid camera  in his bag, and he was soon making full use of it.
It
was Deputy Professor Graves who broke free from the spell first, his
orderly administrator’s mind overcoming the fascinated trance he had
been in. Although, it was quite in order for the Coach to discipline
a student, the fact that other students were participating in the
punishment, smacked a little too much of hazing which could damage
the college’s reputation if the news got out!
I
… I think that is enough now!!” he stuttered “Young Draper has
been punished enough … for now. Any further disciplinary action
will down to the college, and, of course, Jordan’s parents!”
Please
don’t tell my Dad!” gasped Jordan as Scott Colby sulkily put down
the bat, disappointed he had only managed four measly swats at Jordan’s butt.
Of
course, your parents will be informed boy! This is a serious
matter!” Snapped Mr Graves before turning to the Coach! “Coach
Amundsen, thank you for resolving this matter so promptly, I know I
can leave you in charge now!”
Of
course!” replied the Coach as the Deputy principal picked up the
two valuable trophies and left the room, followed by Officer Timmins.
Meanwhile
Jordan jumped down from his unwelcome plinth, anxious to get to his
locker and his clothes, however, again his path was barred by a
barricade of sneering sports jocks, who showed no inclination to move
out of his way.
You
can get dressed shortly Jordan” said the Coach “Meanwhile, I
think it best that your teammates discuss this matter with you on a
peer to peer basis, whilst we adults get back to running the
college!”
No
Coach, please don’t leave me with them!” spluttered Jordan “Please
don’t!”
Don’t
be silly Jordan!” snapped the coach, “You put your friends in a
very difficult position, and and the obviously need to …… talk
this over with you!!”
Pure
terror gripped Jordan as he looked round at the grinning athletes, he
knew that “talking!” was the last thing they had in mind.
The
coach placed the ping pong bat on to the top of the cupboard then
looking at Martin he said “You will want to put this back in your
locker …. at some point!”
Ignoring
the horrified young swimmer’s pleas, the coach then walked out of the
room. As soon as his back was turned to the boys, a slow smile crept
across his face!
Within
seconds of the Coach leaving the room, the boys had wrestled Jordan
to the floor, holding him down, while they took turns in whacking his
butt with the paddle the Coach had left for them!
No!!
… OWW! … Please Guys!! … OW …. Stoppp!”

yelled Jordan,
“It’s
a mistake! …. OUCH!! it wasn’t me … it was OW those to fa
….OOOOWW!!”

We
ain’t gonna’ stop until your butt’s as red as the lockers!! laughed
Scott Rather.
Then
Toby Suter, one of Jordan’s long term victims had an idea “Hey
fellas’” he laughed “This will really make him feel it!” 
 
He
held up a tube of the extra strength heat rub embrocation, which he
had been using for a sprained shoulder!
The
others cheered and broke into raucous laughter.
Jordan
looked back over his shoulder and saw what Toby was holding and
recognised it instantly. Having once accidentally used a similar
cream a hot shower, he knew how it could burn.
NO!!
Please don’t!! he wailed
“NOT
THAT!!!

To
be continued …

The Shaman’s Revenge (Part 1)

The
Shaman’s Revenge Part 1

 

 
Capsaicin
College was a handsome, if rambling, mid 18
th
Century Colonial Mansion set in extensive grounds, much of which had
been converted into sports fields, running tracks and tennis courts
where pupils were required to undergo strenuous exercise, reflecting
the founder’s belief that the discipline of the young male body was
the door the health, enlightenment and well being of both mind and
body.
The
great house had been converted into an educational establishment for
the sons of Southern Gentlemen in the early 1930’s after the crash
and depression of the 20’s had left its previous owners unable to
maintain its upkeep. As with all old buildings Capsaicin’s ageing
infrastructure remained a challenge for the College administration,
hence the small staff of gardeners, carpenters and handymen were kept
fully employed ensuring it remained in the high standard of repair
which was expected for such a prestigious establishment.
It
was on a sultry late morning in mid July when some members of the
College faculty, including the Deputy principle and the Head Sports
Coach accompanied Will Bryant, the Caretaker as they wondered around
the building inspecting its current state of repair.
On
reaching the side of the building where the old stable block had been
converted into a large modern locker room and showers, the Deputy
Principle, Henry Graves, pointed to a large oblong shape nestling in
the eves. “Those are hornets aren’t they?” he asked “How long
has that nest been there?” 
 
It
must be quite new replied” Will, secretly irritated that his young
assistant, Chase Coulby (the lazy young brat) had not alerted him to
the problem during his preliminary inspection earlier that day. “It
certainly was not there when we carried out maintenance on the roof
over the Spring break”
We
will need to get rid of that quite quickly!” snapped Prof. Graves
Those
brutes can give a nasty sting!”
I
will get young Coulby onto it next week Sir” replied Will
I
can think of a few of our male students who might benefit from a good
sting on the bottom!” chuckled Hector Carruthers, the
septuagenarian music professor. The comment was greeted with a smile
of approval from Thor Amundsen, the ruggedly handsome, head coach
with a twinkle in is pale blue eyes, which slightly unnerved some of
the other faculty members.
Perhaps
so!” replied Prof. Graves, irritably “However, we could do
without the parents suing us!” with that, the group moved on,
leaving their elderly colleague’s prophetic words hanging in the
air.
A
half hour later 18 year Jordan Draper came running across the old
courtyard heading for the locker room. He was dressed in nothing but
a pair of blue speedos and rubber “flip flop” sandals, his
healthy and athletic body and dark brown hair still glistening wet
from the pool, where he had been practising his diving for the
forthcoming tournament with a neighbouring school.
Arrogant,
and pleased with himself, Jordan was the handsomest senior at
Capsaicin. He was good at sports and a popular success with the local
girls, a number of whose hearts he had carelessly broken in the last
year. Who cared if his grades were poor, Sporting success was what
mattered at Capsicin and in Jordan’s mind he was everything he wanted
to be, the top jock on campus, the best looking guy in town, for
Jordan life was good.
Of
course, with the incident with the old man earlier that day
forgotten, Jordan could not know that his lifelong good luck was
about to desert him.
Upon
entering the locker room Jordan sauntered over to the bench where he
had left his sports bag, unzipped it and pulled out a can of soda
from which he took two large swigs, before carelessly tossing the can
down on to the bench beside him, allowing the heavily sugared liquid
to spill onto the painted wooden surface.
The
handsome lad then kicked off his flip flops and stripped off his
speedos, which he slung, still dripping wet into his sports bag.
Despite being now completely naked, on such a hot and humid day, the
locker room was uncomfortably stuffy, so Jordan stood on the bench
and opened one of the skylight windows hoping to let some air in,
whilst blissfully unaware that he would be allowing more than just
air into the room.
Picking
up his towel, he strode, bare foot and butt naked towards the showers
in the next door room, his hairless, tan-line white, bottom bouncing
from side to side, as if it’s pert firmness expressed the casual
arrogance of Jordan’s proud and care-free attitude. 
 
Throwing
his towel onto the shiny paved floor, and stepping into the shower,
the hottest jock on the swimming team turned on the shower and stood
there in all his late teenage glory, enjoying the sensation of the
warm, yet refreshing water pouring over his perfectly formed
athlete’s body.
As
the hot water cascaded down over the smooth pearl white globes of his
perfect bottom, Jordan’s thoughts were on the hot date he had planned
for that evening, with one of the hottest chicks that the campus had
to offer. Little did the handsome swimmer know that far from
indulging in the pleasures of a hot date, he would be spending the
evening nursing a very sore bottom.

 

__________________________________

 

 

 
On
another part of the campus twenty-year-old Chase Coulby was heavily
occupied in matters which had little to do with the job he was paid
to do. Idly pretending to paint the fence near the lacrosse court,
his deep hazel green eyes were actually focused on the figures
running back and forth across the court.
Although
historically a male only college Capsaicin had bowed to the
orthodoxies of the age, and two years previously had opened its doors
to a small number of female students. It was upon a group of these
young ladies, members of the girl’s lacrosse team, that Chase’s
lascivious eyes were feasting.
Chase
was a good looking lad, who, not unlike Jordan Draper, had no
difficulty in getting girlfriends. However, like most young men, one
girl was never enough, and the local girls were not as enticing as
the rich men’s daughters at Capsaicin. The Caretaker’s young
assistant took secret pleasure in spying on scantily clad females
playing sports. And when he wanted to see more, which he usually did,
his job at the College provided him with a number of opportunities to
do so.
Chase
grinned to himself, the lacrosse game would end soon, and then the
young ladies would be heading for their locker room, and when they
did, he would follow them there!!
Back
in men’s locker room, two new figures had just crept into the room.
Glancing quickly around to ensure that there was nobody else there,
the new arrivals, being more occupied with each other, failed to hear
the sound of running water coming from the showers next door.
Turning
face to face, Rubin Dorbny and Martin Clifford, gazed to each other’s
eyes. Only days ago the two students had discovered that the crush
which each had felt for the other since joining the school was in
fact mutual. Since then, neither had thought of anything else but
snatching opportunities to be alone together.
We
have just over an hour until physics” whispered Dorbney “I wish
it could be longer”
The
words had hardly left his mouth when he was silenced by the force of
Martin Clifford’s hungry lips pressing against his. Within seconds
the two were entwined tightly in each other’s arms, oblivious to all
else, including the handsome, but very straight, swimmer, showering
in the next room.
The
two young lovers were not the only sentient beings to enter the room.
When Jordan Draper had opened the skylight window, he had
inadvertently granted access to two large male hornets. The two
brightly striped insects hovered above the window sill as if they
still expected the transparent glass, which had previously obstructed
them, to still be there. Then, as their acute sense of smell detected
the spilt soda, they flew into the room buzzing noisily as they did
so. Quickly zoning in on the source of the sweet odour, the yellow
jacketed creatures landed on the bench and began sucking up the soda
which Jordan Draper had spit minutes earlier.
The
first two hornets were soon joined by a third, which had also flown
in through the window which Jordan had conveniently opened.
The
two humans meanwhile were too occupied with the excitement of their
intimate embrace to notice the buzzing hornets, as their groping
hands explored each other’s young bodies and their anxious manhoods
began to swell in their pants.
Within
moments, their pants, followed by the rest of their clothing was on
the floor at their now naked feet.
Unfortunately
for Dorbney and Clifford, it was not just stinging insects which had
gone unnoticed, they were also too engrossed in their newly
discovered passion to sense the freshly showered Jordan Draper
re-entering the room.
Jordan
stopped still in amazement, initially unable to comprehend what he
was seeing. In that far less liberated age, where the word “gay”
had only recently begun its transition to its current usage, and
homosexuality was still illegal in some states, including this one,
Jordan had all the prejudices of his era. This, together with all the
instincts of a born bully, meant he was one of the least sympathetic
of people to walk in on two males involved in an illicit sexual
encounter.
You
pair of queer FAGGOTS!

sneered Jordan. As the two boys sprung apart as if an electric shock
had run through then, and spun round in horror at the realisation
they had been discovered.
Jordan
dropped his towel, and strode stark naked across the room before
standing menacingly in front of the two younger boys. “Sick
perverts!” he snarled “You should be locked up!” his handsome
lips curled into an incongruously ugly expression “Just wait until
I tell the whole school what you were doing!!”
P..
please Draper … please don’t!” stammered Rubin Dorbney, the
potential consequences of disclosure, which at the time were
significant, dawning on him in cold terror.
Please
don’t tell!” echoed Martin, the hopelessness of the appeal clear to
him as the words left his lips. Both the boys knew Jordan Draper
well, having both been the victims of his brutality in the past, and
knew he would take great pleasure both in exposing them, and taking a
leading role in their torment.
Jordan
lunged forward, grabbing Rubin by the throat, and pushing him against
the wall. “Try and stop me!” He yelled.
Although
he did not shine in academic pursuits, Jordan had a natural slyness,
and it quickly occurred to him that he could use this discovery to
his advantage. “What is it worth for to you for me to stay quiet?”
he asked, his voice dripping with malevolence. “If you queers don’t
want me to tell the whole school what you were ….doing..” he
grimaced in exaggerated disgust “then you are going to have to pay
for my silence”
Jordan’s
unhappy victims could tell how serious he was, and knew they would
have to do as he asked, or he would make good as his threat. “I
have $40 in my dorm room” stammered Martin, “I will give you
that!”
Forty
bucks?!!” sneered Jordan “You had better get more than that!”
I
get my allowance next week!” whispered Rubin, his voice quaking
with misery “It’s $400 to last the rest of the term … you can
half of that!”
Half?!
scoffed Jordan “You had better give me the lot, or everyone will
find out that you and your butt boy there are a pair of stinking
fags!”
The
two boys looked at each other, both knew they would have to agree to
their handsome oppressor’s demands, the attitudes and, legal system
within the state at the time, meant that failure to submit would
shame their families and could even ruin their lives.
Okay
Draper!” muttered Rubin “You can have it all”
Jordan
turned to Martin and raised his fist in front of his face “What
about you?” he growled “When is your allowance due from Mommy and
Daddy?”
I
have spent most of it!” replied Martin, the $40 is all I have left.
Well
write to Mommy and Daddy and ask you more, okay?” glowered Jordan.
….okay…!”
whispered Martin in defeat.
A
satisfied grin spread across Jordan Draper’s handsome but cruel face.
“Okay, I will stay quiet … for now … but you had better pay me
the cash, or you both know what will happen!” He turned and walked
towards the bench.
As
the two lads watched the handsome and naked jock walk away from them,
his perfect bare bottom, fully exposed. The sight of Jordan’s naked
behind at any other time would have thrilled them, but now they had
other things on their mind Both knew that Jordan’s silence would
last only until he was paid. In their despair they both looked down
and simultaneously noticed the black and yellow striped hornets,
still feeding on the spilt soda. In stunned, wide eyed, fascination
they watched while, as if in slow motion, Jordan turned, looked back
at them, a smirk of arrogant triumph on his face, and began to lower
his bare bottom towards the bench and towards the three feeding and
sting loaded insects still on it.
At
first Rubin did not understand the implications of what he was
seeing. However, Marin immediately realised what might be about to
happen and a thrill of excitement and anticipation pulsed through his
young body.
Jordan
had a bottom that damp and rousing wet dreams were made of, like two
magnificent globes, well formed through regular exercise yet still
tender and sensitive, white as snow and framed between the golden tan
lines of his back and thighs, they were a delight to behold, and
together with his handsome face, one of his most strikingly
attractive features.
The
hornets however saw no beauty in Jordan’s descending backside, only a
large and looming threat which was about to crush them. Their only
instinct was to attack. With loud, angry, buzzes they flew at the
approaching cheeks, and the instant before their sudden demise,
squashed between the hard wooden bench and the pearly whiteness of
Jordan’s rump, they sunk their stingers into the tender flesh in the
lower part of each cheek, expelling a sudden shot of toxic, agony
inducing venom, into the unfortunate jock.
The
third hornet, even more aggressive and adventurous than it’s
compatriots darted between the spreading cheeks to deliver it’s
agonizing payload into the rosebud-like pucker of the young straight
boy’s most tender and unexplored orifice.
As
if shocked by a high voltage power line, Jordan let out a high
pitched, and almost inhuman, scream of anguish as he jumped to his
feet clutching his doubly stung bottom. Prof Graves had not been
wrong when he said that the hornets could give a “nasty sting”
and Jordan had never experienced a level of pain which approached
that which was surging through his bare bubble like bottom, like
three searing hot needles.
The
unfortunate young athlete had been simultaneously stung on both
cheeks of his flawless white bottom by insects renowned for the
potency of their sting, which could cause extreme levels of
discomfort sometimes lasting for days. To make matters worse, and
potentially more embarrassing, the third sting had been planted in
that most sensitive, tender and forbidden location which no living
creature had ever explored before.
Martin
and Rubin watched on wide eyed amazement as their strikingly handsome
tormentor, still as naked as a baby, jumped from foot too foot,
rubbing his bare behind, yelling and howling in pain as his well
proportioned cock bounced up and down.
Ever
the soft hearted one, Rubin almost felt a degree of sympathy for
Jordan, before he reminded himself that the very guy he was feeling
sorry for had, moments earlier, been intent on destroying his and his
new young lover’s lives.
Martin’s
reaction was somewhat more complicated, he was aware of a tingling
sense of delight at what he was watching, which was not entirely due
to a perception of revenge for Jordan’s threats and extortion. When
he would later analyse the pleasure he felt he would realise that it
was the enjoyment of watching a good looking stud getting his
comeuppance in such a painful and potentially humiliating way. This
was a realisation which would come to change his life.
You
sat on a wasp Draper!” said Martin, struggling only half
successfully to hide the note of sarcasm from his voice “Did it
sting you on the as …er the bottom?”
Jordan
glanced back at the bench and saw the dead hornets “They’re God
damn hornets! and there were two of the fuckers!” he yelled, “and
they both fucking stung me!!” he continued to rub is well stung
behind, whilst jumping upside down, his eyes shut tight in pain.
Despite the pain his remaining pride prevented him from admitting to
the third sting, and where it had been delivered.
That
must really hurt…” started Martin before the hilarity of the
situation got the better of him and a loud burst of mocking laughter
echoed round the room.
Jordan
swung round, a look of beast like fury on his face. “
ARE
YOU LAUGHING AT ME?!!

he shouted.
No
..no Draper!!” stuttered Rubin realising the extreme danger Martin
was now in “it was a cough … he coughed!! … honest!!”
HE
LAUGHED

…. don’t shit me Jew Boy! Jordan looked at Martin his eyes
smouldering with anger “
YOU
LAUGHED AT ME DIDN’T YOU, YOU LITTLE WORM?!

The humiliation of what had just happened began to dawn on Jordan,
that stung him almost as painfully as the hornet, and typically of a
bully, it also made him very angry.
It
took his lithe athletic body no more than a second to spring across
the room and to grab young Martin Clifford tightly by the throat.
“YOU LAUGHED AT ME!!! … YOU THINK IT WAS FUNNY THAT I GOT STUNG
ON THE BUTT, DO YOU?!” he snarled “I’LL TEACH YOU AND YOUR FAGGY
BOYFRIEMD NOT TO LAUGH AT ME!!”
No
Draper, please, he didn’t laugh!” lied Rubin coming to the aid of
his lover “he coughed!!”
DON’T
LIE FAG!!” yelled Jordan, aiming a blow at Rubin. The punch
collided heavily with the lower side of Rubin’s face, splitting his
lip and knocking him to the floor.
Jordan
turned his attention back to Martin “I’ll teach you not to laugh at
me you ……!!” he hissed.
Martin
looked defiantly back at the handsome, naked and very angry Jock and
grinned “Whatever you do to me Draper, it won’t change the fact
that you got your bare ass stung by a hornet, and two ‘fags’ saw it
happen, you are angry because you are embarrassed!! …. and I
laughed because it was funny! …. VERY FUNNY!”
WHAT
DID YOU SAY?!” Screamed Jordan, the truth of Martin’s statement
spurring him to even more fury “YOU ARE DEAD YOU FUCKING QUEER!!
Jordan’s punch bloodied Martin’s nose and knocked his head back
against the wall, yet the smaller student retained his air of
defiance, despite his attacker’s greater strength and athleticism.
Jordan
was unaccustomed to such defiance on the part of his victims, and, as
such, it served to infuriate him even more. He flung himself onto the
smaller boy, and within moments they were wrestling on the floor.
It did not take Jordan long to overpower Martin, and he soon had him
pinned to the floor “You are DEAD queer!” he literally spat with
fury as he raised his clenched fist, preparing to inflict a further
blow to Martin’s face.
WHAT
ON EARTH ARE YOU DOING DRAPER??!!”

An
outraged voice rang round the locker room. Jordan instantly released
Martin, jumped to his feet and spun round to see the imposing and
muscular figure of Mr.Amundsen, the College’s head coach.
Jordan stared at the older man, one of the few authority figures he had goodreason to be afraid of, and felt suddenly very aware of his
nakedness. “I..I …. they .. they … uh …I..!” he stammered.
Youwhat? …they what?” stormed Mr. Amundsen, as he hastened across the room and assisted Rubin Daubny to his feet? “You are bleeding boy!” Cried the coach “Did Draper do this to you?” 
 
Before Rubin could answer, Martin spoke for him “Yes, Sir, he did, Draper punched him, and he did this to me!” he pointed at his own bloody nose.
Mr. Amundsen turned to the naked Jock, who had quickly released his grip of Martin. “Draper, I have told you before what would happen if I
caught you bullying other students!!” barked the coach 

 

Jordan’s jaw dropped wide open in stunned horror, the trobbing stings in his bottom suddenly hurt even more as the coach’s earlier
threat “
I shall put you over my knee and spank your behind until you can’t sit down for a week Draper!”echoed through his mind.
At
the time he had ignore the words as an empty threat from an odd
foreigner, but the coach’s unnerving expression showed he was very
serious. “B..but Sir, they laughed at me …Sir!” cried the now
quite nervous young swimmer.
They
what?” demanded the incredulous Mr. Amundsen “You punched them
for laughing?”
…they
are dirty fags Sir …. sick fucking queers!” blurted Jordan, who
for a moment genuinely believed this explosive information would
defend his behaviour.
Within
an instant the strong Scandinavian coach had grabbed hold of Jordan’s
ear gripping it tightly and painfully between his thumb and
forefinger. “HOW DARE YOU USE SUCH FILTHY LANGUAGE TO ME!! he
yelled, pulling Jodan’s head towards him so that it was inches from
his face. “YOU ARE BADLY IN NEED OF THE LESSON YOU HAVE BEEN ASKING
FOR!!”
Jordon’s
eyes were wide with horror. “No Coach…PLEASE … not ..’gulp’
THAT!”
Yes..
‘THAT’” snapped Coach Amundsen “The only way to deal with foul
mouthed bullies like you is to apply a good, hard, bare bottom
spanking to him … and repeat it frequently!”
B…but..
It’s not legal!!” stammered Jordan
Where
do you think you are Jordan?” replied the coach, this isn’t
Massachusetts, in this state, we believe in a good, old fashioned
education!”
With
that he marched across to room pulling the naked and protesting jock
after him.
Martin
Clifford stood frozen to the spot, adrenaline pumping in his head as
the thrill of anticipation swelled within him. He couldn’t quite
believe what he was about to observe, he was going to watch handsome
Jordan Draper get spanked and had never before felt so excited in all
his life.
Coach
Amundsen brusquely pushed Jordan’s sports bag aside, and sat down on
the bench before, with one firm and well-practised motion, pulling
the naked young athlete face down over his knee.
The
two observers, Rubin and Martin, both gasped in amazement at what
they were watching. Their handsome tormentor of moments before, was
now held firmly across the Coach’s lap, his bare, perfectly formed
and still white bottom on full display, and, seemingly about to be
spanked in front of them.
Jordan
was so stunned that, for a brief moment, he almost forgot about the
throbbing pain from the hornet stings in his bottom. This could not
be happening to him, the acknowledged top jock on campus, was he
really about to be spanked, bare assed in front of two homosexuals?.
He was suddenly very conscious of his nakedne
ss and the vulnerability
of his position.
You
can’t do this to me coach!” he stammered, struggling to retain his
usual nonchalant manner “not in front of those two fa…. ”
SMACK!
Coach Amundson’s large and leather like palm landed with stinging
force across the centre of Jordan’s tender, hornet stung bottom,
causing the young athlete to cry out in pain. “I told you not to
use bad language Draper!” snapped the Coach “How dare you defy
me!”
With
that, he began spanking Jordan’s bare bottom with all the awesome
force that such a fit and powerful sportsman could muster.
If
Jordan’s humiliation had caused him to briefly forget the hornet
stings in his targeted tail, they were immediately brought back into
sharp focus, as every second or third stinging slap from the coaches
leather like palm landed right on one or other of them, sending spear
like jolts of piercing agony shooting into his punished bottom.
AAAGHHH!!…NO!
…SIR! … PLEASE!..I’VE BEEN STUNG!!… I’VE BEEN STUNG ON THE
BUTT!!

The
coach stopped for a moment “What are you talking about boy?!”
The
hornets, Coach” interjected Rubin pointing at the crushed and dead
insects “They stung Draper”
Stung
him on the bottom!” murmured Martin, trying hard not to grin. “He
sat on them Coach, and they stung his ……. bare bottom! ….. that
must have hurt I guess!”
The
mother fuckers stung my ass Coach!” Confirmed Jordan and then
immediately yelled in pain as Coach Amundsen delivered a hard slap to
his backside.
I
told you not to swear boy!” snapped the Coach.
He
raised a quizzical eyebrow as he studied young Draper’s upturned
behind. Now he knew they were there, the hornet stings were
immediately visible as small, slightly raised, and shiny pink mounds
surrounded by a reddening circle. One sting was at the very bottom of
the right buttock cheek just above the top off Drapers smooth and
golden tanned thigh. The second was on the left cheek, nestling
almost on the edge of the sloping divide between the hairless, and
quite magnificent globes.
The
third, more intimate sting remained hidden from view in the tight
crevasse between the cheeks.
Having,
himself, been stung by a wasp in the past the Coach was sure the
angry looking lumps must be very sore, and likely to remain so for
some time. A sudden pang of sympathy tempted him to excuse the young
jock his well-earned punishment, and he might have done so, had the
arrogant young swimmer not immediately ruined his own chances of
escape.
But
it fucking hurts coach!” yelled Jordan, the expletive so familiar
to his vocabulary that it blurted out before he realised it had done
so.
Well!
It is going to hurt a whole lot more!” growled a now furious Coach
Amundsen, any vestige of compassion extinguished by one word
evidencing the handsome young athlete’s wilful disobedience. “As I
promised, you will not feel inclined to sit down any time soon!”
It
was then that Jordan Draper’s spanking became serious, fuelled by
anger at the young man’s impertinent disobedience, Coach Amundsen did
not hold back and was soon demonstrating the skills of the formidable
disciplinarian he was. An all-round sportsman, the coach had been a
decathlon champion in his youth and his body was still honed and
supple from rigorous daily exercise. His hands were hard and
calloused from the rock climbing which occupied much of his
vacations, and his arms, the legacy of years of squash, tennis,
rowing and multiple press ups were powerful and muscular.
Irrespective
of the fiery hornet stings. Jordan could hardly have encountered
worse bad luck, after being stung, than to be spanked by an angry
Thor Amundsen.
Adding
incomparably to the raging torment of his bare behind, was the
smarting sting of knowing that his bare bottomed humiliation was
being observed by two little …….!! He cringed inwardly, knowing
with absolute certainty that both boys would spread word of what they
had witnessed far and wide throughout the college.
As
the handsomest and most popular jock in the College, the ignominy of
being publicly spanked was unbearable, yet he had no option but to
endure the shame together with the vigorous battering his bottom was
receiving from the coach’s mighty and relentless palm. This was
turning out to be the worst thing which had ever happened to Jordan
Draper. ….. so far!
As
Jordan was painfully aware, two fascinated onlookers were observing
the somewhat surreal events unfolding before them. Rubin Dorbney
could only stare in wide eyed and stunned amazement, still unable to
fully believe what he was seeing. As for Martin Clifford however, his
reaction was significantly more intricate.
Pulse
after pulse of thrilled anticipation surged through his body, and
there was an increasingly pleasurable stirring in his groin. He had
been aware for some while that he gained voyeuristic pleasure from
visual stimulus, and had struggled to avert his eyes while changing
before and after sports, but he had only discovered how explosively
that pleasure increased when the subject he was watching was as
handsome as Jordan Draper and experiencing simultaneous discomfort
and humiliation.
Martin
had been aware of Jordan Draper since he first arrived at Capsaicin
College. A strikingly handsome youth with a triple “A+” body,
Jordan had featured in quite a few furtive fantasies, but these were
trivial compared to the reality he was watching. On many occasions he
had observed the enticing shape of Jordan’s bottom, either covered in
college uniform gray slacks, or encased in the tight skimpy Speedos
worn by the swimming team, many times he had imagined how it would
look naked. It had been a delightful revelation earlier, even when
Draper had been bullying and blackmailing him, to see that the
reality was even better than he had dreamed, two small firm globes,
strikingly white in contrast to the swimmers otherwise tanned and
golden body, it combined the muscularity of the young athlete but
with the tender looking vulnerability of Jordan’s perfect, blemish
free and hairless, skin.
Blemish
free”! Would, perhaps, no longer be an accurate description of
Jordan’s incredible rump, which, although still perfectly shaped, had
now developed a bright pink hue, which was turning increasingly
redder by the second. This, to Martin’s fast developing eye made it
all the more enchanting. He could only begin to guess how sore
Jordan’s lovely bottom must be, he had seen the hornets and heard
Jordan’s anguished reaction to their stingers, he could now see how
hard Coach Amundsen was spanking it, so it was clearly very, very
sore.
This
certainty was all the more exciting for Martin as was, for reasons he
could not yet fully understand, knowing just how embarrassing and
humiliating this experience would be for a proud, conceited and
arrogant guy as Jordan Draper. Martin grinned to himself “The
jerk’s ego must be stinging almost as much as his butt” he thought
“ .. well, almost!!”
Now
well into his stride, Coach Amundsen, was now devoting significant
effort into to punishing his 18-year-old captive’s bottom which was
already stinging worse than anything Jordan could recall
experiencing. Even the fire ants which had stung him while camping
with his scout group many years ago, until then, the worst pain he
had ever experienced, did not come close to this.
Poor
Jordan, he was receiving the bare bottom spanking he had long
deserved and it was a more complete punishment than even his worst
enemy would have wished on him. Even the automatic impulse reaction
of clenching his buttocks merely added to his discomfort, on account
of the inconveniently located hornet sting between them.
That
aside, he could no longer individually sense the pain from the hornet
stings, that pain had now merged with the escalating burning pain,
which had now spread to all parts of his bottom, and to the tops of
his thighs, an especially sensitive zone which the ever thorough
Scandinavian disciplinarian had deliberately not ignored.
Jordan
Draper had the dual misfortune of having a particularly sensitive
bottom, combined with the low pain threshold which is so often a
trait of bullies. These, characteristics, added to his unusually
inflated sense of personal ego, served to exaggerate the trauma of
his ordeal, well beyond that which another lad in his position might
experience (if another lad had been quite so unlucky) 
 
Although
Martin’s eyes were mostly fixed on Jordan’s increasingly reddening
bottom, at one point the handsome swimmer briefly kicked his legs in
the air drawing Martin’s gaze to two objects on the floor, Jordan’s
rubber flip-flops and a thrilling thought shot through his mind. He
stepped forward and picked up one of the rubber shoes.
Excuse
me Coach” he said politely “You could make your palm quite sore,
doing that….. would this help?!” he held out his hand holding the
flip-flop towards the Coach.
The
Coach stopped spanking for a moment and looked thoughtfully at the
object which the boy was offering him. He then took the flip-flop
from Martin’s hand, and smacked it against the palm of his hand,
noting with approval the stinging sensation and loud “WHACK!” of
pliable India Rubber against flesh.
Excellent!”
he said “Thank you Clifford … very considerate of you Boy!”
Jordan
looked back over his shoulder and saw the flip-flop in Coach
Amundsen’s hand, he also say the looked of feigned innocence in
Martin’s young face. For a moment the burning hatred he now felt for
Martin almost took his mind off the burning sting in his bottom.
Albeit the defining word in that sentence was “almost” and the
distraction was extremely brief.
Within
moments the room rang to the rifle crack like whacks of the rubber
flip-flop infracting sharply with the unhappy Jordan’s bottom.

AlthoughCoach Amundsen’s leathery palm had been a formidable spanking weapon,
the whippy rubber flip-flop was even worse, and the pain in Jordan’s
rump was now quite unbearable.
Suddenly
he felt tears welling in his eyes, and an uncontrolled sob raising in
his throat, and realised in horror that he was about to cry. Whatever
else happened, he could not allow that, he could not be seen publicly
bawling over a spanking, like some little kid.
Attempting
to hide the oncoming tears Jordan reverted to street thug mode by
swearing, cursing and, at one point threatening the coach with the
police if he did not stop However, given the powerlessness of his
situation and the audible tremble in his voice, the threats and
cusses just sounded comical and would have caused Martin to bust out
laughing, had he not controlled himself just in time.
One
person who was certainly not amused was Coach Amundsen, Jordan’s
unwise behaviour simply served to infuriate him further, so that he
increased the power of his smacks even more, and actually made sure
that on good number of occasions the rubber sole of his new weapon
landed squarely where the hornets had left their fiery stings.
Try
as he might, the tears kept coming and the sob kept raising towards
Jordan’s mouth, until neither could still be held back. The tears
began to flow freely down his flushed pink cheeks and the sob
exploded from between his lips, loud enough, he was sure, to be heard
by the two lads still watching his shame.
Soon
all defiance was gone, and he began sobbing and wailing in
uncontrolled misery all thought lost in the world of pain radiating
from his well punished bottom, which, whilst still beautifully
shaped, now glowed with a hot and rosy shade of red.
The
sound of Jordan’s sobs, whilst further exciting Martin Clifford,
finally eased the Coach’s anger to the point where he finally stopped
spanking Jordan. Unaware of the young swimmers earlier threats, and
attempts to extort money from the other two lads, Amundsen’s more
sympathetic side took over. If the boy was crying, he had seemingly
have been punished enough for the crime of using forbidden profanity.
Get
up boy!” he snapped giving Jordan a shove which almost sent him
tumbling to the floor.
Jordan,
struggled to his feet and stood there, deeply aware of his newly
shameful nakedness, his hands clasped over his groin, but unable to
hide is bright red, just spanked, bottom which was, in fact, the
primary object of Martin and Rubin’s attention. Jordan stared at the
floor, his tear stained, but still dashingly handsome face now
glowing almost as brightly as his bottom.
The
Coach stood up and faced Jordon, “I hope you have learnt your
lesson boy!” he said sternly “However, if I hear you swearing
like that ever again…. or spreading malicious rumours about these
boys … I will treat your little bare bottom like a squash ball! ….
do you understand me?”
y…yes
..yes Coach” murmured the deeply wretched Jordan.
He
glanced up briefly, and in doing so, caught sight, from the corner of
his eye, of the broad grin of pleasure and satisfaction on Martin
Clifford’s face. His misery instantly turned to, barely controlled,
fury. Had Coach Amundsen not been in the room, there is no doubt that
face would right then be being rammed repeatedly into the concrete
floor of the locker room.
It
was at that moment that Jordan Draper’s, ill fated, determination to
get his revenge took root.
It
was the middle of the night and Jordan Draper could not sleep.
Although the events in the locker had happened almost 14 hours
earlier, his bottom still stung so badly that he could only achieve a
degree of comfort by lying in his stomach. Even then the burning
sensation was hard to endure, and even the soothing cream which he
had liberally, if gingerly, rubbed into it, had minimal effect.
The
spanking from Coach Amundsen had been hard and thorough, leaving a
long lasting impact on Jordan’s tender booty, however, even when that
eventually began to fade, the three hornet’s dying bequests, still
throbbed painfully, and, as he was to discover, would continue to do
so for most of the weekend.
The
day had not improved after he had finally escaped the locker room. A
90 minute English test had to be undertaken whilst sitting down on
his punished bottom, resulting, perhaps predictably, in Jordan
achieving an even lower score than even he would usually expect.
Like
most local students at Capsaicin, Jordan still lived at home with his
family, rather than in one the college dorms or Fraternity Houses.
Although usually an indulgent parent, his father insisted that the
family all sit down for dinner each evening, so his son had to endure
a two course family dinner whilst doing what he least wanted to do
that evening, sitting down.
To
add the cherry, or more accurately to poison the cherry on top of a
horrible day Jordan had to turn down Lucy-Mae McCormick, who had
phoned to suggest a drive to the lake. Despite this strongly implied
offer of sex, Jordan could not risk failure to perform, or worse
still, Lucy-Mae catching sight of his obviously spanked bottom. He
could tell she was offended to be rejected, and he doubted that she
would repeat the offer.
Hence,
his mood had only deteriorated from an, already low, point, and was
by now thunderous with a rage which could only be slated by achieving
revenge.
A
natural coward, Jordan would not dare extract revenge on someone as
hard handed as Coach Amundsen, so he focused on the two young gay men
who had witnessed his shaming.
Unaware
that due to Rubin’s reluctant sympathy and Martin’s ambivalence about
his own reaction to what he had observed, neither had spoken of what
had occurred in the locker room, Jordan was convinced that the two
would spend the weekend telling everyone what they had seen. Soon his
dislike of the lovers had developed into a passionate hatred.
He
was resolved to get his own back on the two boys, it only remained to
determine how. His plotting, fuelled by the continuing sting in his
tail, would fully occupy him over the following weekend, but it was
not until the middle of Sunday afternoon that an idea began to form.
Coach
Amundsen was sitting at the desk in his office. He was alone in the
empty building, as, having a busy week ahead, the dedicated teacher
had come in on Sunday evening to complete some preparation.
From
time to time over the weekend, his earlier punishment of Jordan
Draper had crossed his mind, he wondered if he had been too hard on
the lad, and punished him too severely. It was after all no longer
the 1960’s, and salty language was more common than when he had been
Draper’s age, almost twenty years before.
However,
it had not just been Draper’s language which had angered him, he
guessed that Draper had been bullying the two younger boys, and he
suspected he knew why. Coach Amundsen’s Scandinavian background had
made him more liberally minded towards homosexuality than most in the
Southern States of America at that time, and would not tolerate
unkind treatment of vulnerable students on his watch.

 

From
Asmundsen’s desk, he had an unobstructed view down the corridor to
the college administrative offices at the other end. Squinting into
the gloom he made out a figure moving with apparent stealth. Making
this even more suspicious was the fact that the figure was wearing a
hooded winter jacket, despite the warm summer evening.
The
person, who appeared to be male and carrying a rucksack, crossed the
corridor to the door of the college bursar’s office, where he stopped
and took something from the pocket of his jacket, which he proceeded
to force into the lock. After manipulating this for a few moments,
the door opened and the figure entered the room. 
 
It
was clear that, whoever this was, was up to no good. Assuming he had
spotted a burglar committing a crime, Amundsen leapt silently from
his chair. And crept up the corridor towards the door through which
the intruder had just entered.
Peering
through the crack in the door, Amondsen could see the intruder, who,
even in the half light of the mid-Summer dusk, was instantly
recognisable. As the Coach watched the youth, who was standing by the
Bursar’s desk, forced open a drawer and took out an object. He then
moved quietly to a glass fronted cabinet, from which he took another
object and then turned back towards the door.
Having
identified the prowler, the Coach was now interested to find out what
he would do next, so, instead of confronting the person, he slipped
into the deputy principle’s office and hid himself behind the door.
He watched as the young man left the bursar’s office and turn back
down the hall. Then, once he was confident he could do so without
being seen, the Coach stepped quietly into the corridor and followed
the still furtive figure.
-/-
Twenty
minutes later, Coach Amundsen returned to his office, a thoughtful
expression on his face. He approached his desk picked up the
telephone, dialled a number and waited for it to be answered.
Dr
Shultz? It’s Thor Amundsen .. the Head Coach here.” he said “Good
evening. … I am sorry to bother you on a Sunday, but I wonder if
you would do me a favour.” he paused allowing the Doctor to agree
“You have one of the swimming team, … Jordan Draper due to have
his quarterly medical tomorrow morning …. yes that’s him …. I
think he would benefit from a nice dose of vitamins … yes that’s
right …. your special preparation. I think a double dose would
appropriate this time, one shot in each cheek! … thanks … I knew
I could depend on you.” he was about to put down the phone before
he added “Oh and Doc ….. please use your biggest needles, and
make sure he feels them, both!”
Thor
Amundsen then sat back in his chair and placed his hands behind his
head, as a grin began to slowly spread across his face. From what he
had just observed, he now knew that he had not been too hard on
Jordan Draper …. in fact he had been far too lenient. However, that
was about to change.
Jordan
Draper was about to get a lot more of what he really deserved. The
Shaman’s revenge had only just begun ……..
________________
TO
BE CONTINUED ……….

The JockPunishers – Episode 1 “Logan and the Chilli Crushers”

The
JockBusters – Episode 1
Logan
and the Chilli Crushers
Adam
Murphy, Darren Galloway and Todd Singer, had first met at their local
gym after many years during which all three, being shy and studious
boys, with limited skills on the sports field, had been the victims
of bullying and hazing by handsome, athletic jocks who had made their
lives generally miserable.
This
pattern had continued when they became young adults, and by pure
coincidence, all three had finally concluded that the best way to
deal with the ongoing harassment was to toughen up and fight back, it
was for this reason that they had joined the gym.
The
trio soon became good friends, and it was not long before they began
sharing their experiences, and it was then they discovered how much
they had in common, both in terms of what had happened to them, and
also a shared desire to exact revenge, not only for themselves, but
also for other victims of bullies.
Together
they decided that it was time for payback, and that the handsome,
arrogant, jocks and athletes who believed their superior strength and
good looks gave them the automatic right to torment weaker guys would
find themselves on the other side of the punishment, and it would be
they who would be getting their cute butts kicked, spanked and
generally abused.
And
thus the Jock Punishers were born.
The
first unfortunate jock to encounter justice at the hands of the Jock
Punishers was Logan Fairchild. Logan’s family had made a fortune
importing hot chillies from the Far East, bought for a pittance from
poor farmers and sold at ten times cost price in America.
Despite
being a talented swimmer, with a great physique, Logan’s grades would
never have earned him a place at college, had his family money not
eased his path.
Although
Logan’s athletic good looks made him stand out from the crowd, he
also stood out by virtue of the sheer unpleasantness of his
character. Things in life had always come easy for Logan, however,
instead of being grateful, his good luck had made him arrogant and
selfish, features which, together with his innate cruel streak made
him the ideal subject for the Jockpunishers’ brand of justice.
Logan
had often bullied smaller, weaker guys, however, he had also
developed a nasty habit of hitting his girlfriends. This was getting
more violent each time it happened, and his last girlfriend, Mary
Jane Danvers, had ended up in hospital after he got drunk and beat
her up.
Of
course, as usual, Logan’s Daddy’s money had saved him from the
consequences of his actions. An expensive, smooth talking, lawyer
had made any charges go away, and the girl’s family had been paid
off. So, once again, Logan thought he’d got away with it and that he
could carry on being top Jock on campus, as if nothing had happened.
The Jockpunishers however, had an entirely different plan for him!
____________________________________
After
a late night swim, Logan was in the locker room shower, he thought he
was alone, however, he was wrong.
Intent
on cleaning his private parts in advance of an anticipated hot date
with a new girlfriend later that evening, Logan did not notice that
three shadowy figures had entered the room and were quietly creeping
towards him.
It
was not until they were standing right behind him they he realised
someone was there! He spun round to find three men, all dressed in
black, grinning menacingly at him. All three held what appeared to
be large Paddle ball pats, with the ball and string removed.
What
the fuck do you perverts want?”! He snapped
Your
Ass!” replied one of the men. As he delivered a resounding SMACK to
Logan’s bare, wet, butt cheek!
OWW!
Fuck You!” shouted Logan, trying hard to hide how nervous the
malevolently grinning men made him feel. “Who are you?”
We
are your worst nightmare Logan!” replied one of the grinning men,
“We are going to give you what you deserve!” He lifted the paddle
he was holding “and that means you will not be sitting down for a
while!”
Like
most bullies, Logan was a natural coward, strong and aggressive when
dealing with a woman or a lone and weaker male, he reacted with
increasingly terrified panic when confronted with three strong men.
Guys…
guys, … I don’t know what your beef is, but can we talk about
this?”
No
chance!” Came the reply, as the men grabbed him and and pulled him,
protesting, to the athletic medical training room next to the
showers.
They
pushed him face down across a training table and tied his hands and
feet together, before securing them to the table.
Logan
realised there was no point trying to argue with the three men so he
tried calling for help “HELP! … HELP ME!!” he yelled.
Moments
later, he was silenced when a sock was pushed into his mouth and held
there with a white cotton gag.
Struggling
against his binds, Logan’s eyes widened with nervous bemusement when
one of the men took a plastic bag from his pocket and emptied a small
collection of chillies onto one of the training benches. Logan
recognised them as Thai Demon Chillies, a particularly hot type of
chilli pepper, which his family imported from the Far East.
All
will become clear!” grinned one of the men, noticing Logan’s
bemused expression.
We
are here to punish you Logan” continued another of the black clad
men. “I doubt you have ever been really punished in your life, and
you have got away with many things, now its payback time!”
Comeuppance!”
added the third man.
We
are going to ensure that you pay for what you did to people like Mary
Jane and all the others you have abused and bullied in the past!”
And
we decided to make it a poetically appropriate punishment. We will
punish the part of you which most symbolises your character, and we
will use the very things which enabled your family to buy you out of
trouble! Continued the first man, as he picked up a chillie.
We
are going to demonstrate an inventive new method of crushing
chillies!” he laughed “and we are going to use your pretty ass to
do it!”
Then,
while the other two men held Logan still the first man reached out
his hand and parted the cheeks of Logan’s smooth white buttocks,
exposing the young jock’s tight, pink, and, until then, virgin anus. 
 
He
inserted the pointed end of the chilli into the tiny, puckered,
orifice, which closed tightly around it, so that the other end of the
chilli, with the tip of green stem protruded upwards, poking out,
like a periscope, from between the snowy white cheeks.
Due
to his fear, Logan’s muscles tightened, involuntarily gripping the
chilli even tighter, so that it became impossible to shake it free,
even if the men had let him try. 
 
The
first man in black, then held the bat under Logan’s face “What
d’ya’ thinka’ our chilli crushers fella’?” he laughed “d’ya’
think they’ll catch on?” 
 
NNNMMMMNNNH!”
stammered Logan through his gag, as, the realisation of what the men
had planned began to dawn on him.
The
men then took up position behind Logan, before each in turn raised
their paddles in the air and, one by one, brought them down with a
WHACK! On the unlucky jock’s tender bare behind, as Logan struggled
in a vain attempt to avoid the blows.
At
first the resilient chilli remained intact, the whacks from the
paddles simply forcing it more deeply into Logan’s quivering rectum.
Then, as the men continue to aim swats at Logan, bit by bit the
chilli began to split and break up, leaking juice and fiery seeds
onto Logan’s exposed and sensitive skin.
Logan
had a very low tolerance of any form of discomfort, and as the
bruising whacks from the large hard paddles sent shock waves of pain
shooting into his buttocks he was convulsed in agony. However, it
soon got worse, as the burning chilli juice and even hotter seeds
began to have their effect on the most private and delicate region
causing a searing burn, not dissimilar from what he imagined having a
red hot poker inserted into him might feel like.
As
one chilli was destroyed the men replaced it with another from their
small supply, until all had been thoroughly crushed into their
unfortunate captive’s anus.
By
the time they had finished Logan was moaning and weeping through his
gag, as tears ran down his face. His butt cheeks and ass hole a
searing furnace of pain.
The
Jockpunishers were satisfied that this arrogant and cruel young jock
had been suitably punished for his crimes, but they had not quite
finished with him yet.
*****
The
next morning the students arrived at college to a most unusual
spectacle, of Logan’s final humiliation as he dangled, bare assed
from the college flagpole displaying a sign announcing that he beat
up girls, and inviting his fellow students to take a swat at him with
a conveniently placed paddle beneath him.
Logan’s
battered butt cheeks remained red for the rest of the day, but it was
almost a week before the burning sensation in his little pink rosebud
finally faded. Even so, it took much longer than that for the
scalding pain to his ego to subside, only to be lit again from time
to time, as the memory of his humiliation took it’s place in college
folk law and returned to remind him.
The
Jockpunishers had brought justice to one deserving jock, but their
work was not done, there were many more handsome, spoilt and arrogant
young jocks in need of punishment, and the three avengers intended to
bring it to them.
_________________________________________
If
the JockPunishers prove popular they will return now and then as an
occasional series

A bully’s Comeuppance

Aiden
Hunter was the handsomest guy in school, all the girls loved him, no
matter how badly he treated them, and all the other guys admired him,
that is, until they found out what an arrogant, swollen headed jerk
he was.
A
talented athlete, from a wealthy family Aiden had always gotten his
own way, and been able to do as he liked, and what he liked best was
beating up on smaller guys. When Aiden been in the junior league had
been an out and out bully, always using his superior strength to make
life hell for the smaller and younger boys. When he turned 18 and
joined the senior team he thought he could carry on the same way, but
he could not have been more wrong.
Many
of the senior team had younger brothers who Aiden had hazed, or
younger sisters who he had used and dumped when he grew bored of
them. Two of the seniors, Clay Todd and Rudy Tucker decided it was
time for young Aiden’s comeuppance, and, that payback would land
firmly, and painfully, on Aiden Hunter’s tender, cute and virgin
white bottom.
Once
overpowered and died to a treatment bench, with his long, athletic
legs spread high in the air and him jock-strap framed bottom exposed
and vulnerable, Aiden had no option to take everything they had
planned for him … and they had a lot planned ….!!
____________

The Unlucky Robber

18 year old Rusty Brewster needed some money fast, to pay back some
gambling debts he owed to a local gang, and to the young villain’s mind
the quickest and easiest way to get money was to steal it.  It was for
this reason that early one bright October morning Rusty slipped out of
bed and and sneaked down the back alleyways to a house he had
successfully robbed a few months before.The house belonged to
two gay men, Max Boxer and Leo Russell, whom Rusty considered easy
targets and probably quite wealthy.  “A pair of fags” he thought as he
forced open a window and clambered through “they are asking to be
robbed!”
 He managed to force open a ground floor window and climbed in. Unfortunately for young Rusty, the house’s occupants, Max and Leo, were not the easy pushovers he had thought, they had heard him climbing through the window, rushed downstairs and swiftly overpowered the young would be burglar.
“Rusty Brewster” growled Max “I always suspected it was you who robbed us last time, so now you have come back for more have you?” “Well! We have a special device for dealing with burglars in this house!” laughed Leo “And you are going to be the first to try it out!” With that the men dragged the struggling youth down the stairs to their cellar.

Once in the cellar Rusty was presented with a bizarre looking apparatus, consisting of a metal frame screwed to the floor, next to which was what appeared to be a small motor screwed onto a block at one end with an extended arm at the other, at the end of which was a leather paddle.

“What the fuck is that?” asked Rusty

“It’s a spanking machine” replied Max Boxer “a home made spanking machine!”

“And you are going to be the first to try it out!” added Leo Russell with a cheerful laugh

With
that the two older men proceeded to strip the protesting Rusty naked.  They then dragged him to the frame and firmly pushed him onto his knees over a padded leather seat before attaching  leather straps to his wrists and ankles, so that he was held firmly in place.

“Let me go you fuckers!” snarled Rusty, but the men just laughed in response.
Rusty began to feel very vulnerable and very helpless.“You
are not going anywhere before we have tested the machine on you!”
grinned Max, picking up  a small grey object attached to the machine by a
length of cable.He then gently pressed a button on the object,
at which point the machine sprung into action.  The long arm at the
front swung back in an arc and then shot forward so that the leather
paddle landed across Rusty’s upturned bare bottom with a resounding
WHACK!
“Ouch!!!” yelled Rusty “that fucking hurt!”

Max and Leo cried out in simultaneous shared delight! They had tested Max’s machine on cushions before, but this was the first time it had been used on a human subject and it was gratifying to see that it worked so well.

“It’s supposed to hurt Dumbo!” sneered Max “It’s a spanking machine!” he
pressed the button again, this time a little harder, which caused the
machine to react even faster, delivering a harder and louder “THWACK!!
to their handsome captive’s exposed behind.

“OUCH!!” Okay, okay!!  it works you fucks!”yelled Rusty, “now let me free!”

“Let you free?” repeated Leo “No way Jose, not until you’ve been properly spanked as you deserve!”

Max pressed the button again, this time maintaining the pressure with his
finger, this caused the arm of the machine to swing back and forth at
different speeds depending upon the degree of pressure applied
delivering resounding WHACK! After ringing “THWACK!” to their
unfortunate captives already reddening bottom.

As this was going on, the couple’s tabby cat sauntered into the room and sat down calmly watching the scene before it as if the sight of a man strapped to a
frame and being spanked by a home made machine, was nothing out of it’s
usual every day experience.

Rusty continued to cry out in increasing anger and discomfort as the mechanised swats continued to belabour his stinging rear.  However, the older men felt scant sympathy for him, not only was his comeuppance well deserved, it was also highly entertaining.

“My turn now!” laughed Leo, taking the control from his partner’s hand and pressing the button with varying levels of pressure, varying the speed at which it continued to spank Rusty.

Meanwhile Max walked over to Rusty, knelt down, and began to slap the youth’s now very pink behind, alternating the smacks between the swats brought down on it by the machine.

The men were now really enjoying themselves and were delighted with the success of their machine, Max even began to wonder if he could patent it and begin selling spanking machines to the public.

Rusty, of course, was considerably less enthusiastic, he protested loudly and struggled in vain to free himself from the leather straps which held him in place over the metal frame.

Despite the men’s enjoyment, the large central heating boiler in the corner of
the cellar made the room very hot, and they soon started to feel thirsty.

“I need a drink!” said Leo “lets go to the bar for a beer”

“Good idea!” replied Max “But what about him?” he pointed to Rusty

“He can carry on being spanked!” laughed Leo, placing the control on the
floor and then placing the leg of an old chair onto the button, taking
care to ensure that both objects were far enough from Rusty’s legs to
ensure he couldn’t kick them apart.

As Leo had correctly judged, the weight of the chair on the button caused the machine to move in a  regular back and forth motion delivering firm and painful swats to Rusty’s bottom, each swat falling approximately fifteen seconds
apart.    “Great!” he grinned “The weight of the chair can do the job. While we go for a drink!”

“OWW! …OUCH!!” yelled Rusty “You can’t …OUCH! … leave me like this!”

“Oh yes we can!” chuckled Max “We’ll be back in a couple of hours, by which
time your little white trash bottom should have been properly spanked, just as it deserves!”

“NOOOO! …OWW!” cried Rusty, in horror, the prospect of being spanked for two hours beginning to sink in “Please don’t!! …. OUCH!”

The men just laughed as they walked to the door “Bye Rusty!” sniggered Leo “You stay where you are and take your punishment like a man!”

“Or like the jerk you are!” added Max

Leo and Max grinned at each other as they walked back up the stairs
listening to the whacking sound of the spanking machine belabouring
Rusty’s bare tail echoing through the door.

Rusty struggled and bucked against the unyielding restraints in an attempt to free himself, whilst at the same time attempting to move his agonised bottom out of range of the relentless leather paddle, both efforts failed dismally, as
he remained firmly held in place and the paddle kept landing squarely on its reddening target. He was trapped and there seemed to be no way to get free until the men returned.

If Rusty thought his situation was bad, it was about to get a lot worse, as the cat, which had been quietly observing the scene stood up, stretched, and then walked across to the chair which was resting on the spanking machine control.  Then with one agile leap the animal jumped straight onto the chair before
settling itself down for a sleep on the frayed, but still comfortable padded seat.

The added weight of the cat pushed the chair-leg down more firmly onto the spanking machine control button, with the result that the machine suddenly speeded up, the pace of the paddle swinging arm increasing from a regular back and forth motion to a rapid fire barrage of increasingly  stinging swats as the extended arm zipped back and forth at three to four times its previous speed  delivering a resounding “THWACK!” to Rusty’s burning backside at quarter second intervals.

“HELP!!!…OWW! …AAAGH!! …HELP ME!!” bellowed Rusty “PLEASE HELP! …OW!!  THIS THING IS KILLING ME!!”

But there was nobody to hear him, and his voice was almost drowned by the
loud “WHACK! …WHACK!  WHACK!” From the paddle as the blistering
mechanical spanking continued.

“WHACK! …WHACK!  WHACK! ..WHACK! …WHACK!  WHACK!”

Rusty knew there was no way he could continue to injure the pain, and that he
had to free himself somehow.  With all the strength his young body could summon up he strained at the restraints holding him firmly to the floor, and finally he heard a cracking sound as the chain holding his right foot to the floor snapped.  Moments later the chain holding his right hand to the floor followed suit.

Having one side free enabled the agile youth to flip his body over onto his back, crying out in agony as the leather paddle landed with loud thwack across his groin, cock and balls, before he managed to wriggle out of it’s merciless
range. “AAAAGHHH! OWWW!” he yelled

His right hand free Rusty was now able to release his remaining trapped limbs and make a bolt for freedom.  Luckily, believing their captive was securely strapped to the spanking machine, Max and Leo had no bothered to lock the cellar door, so Rusty threw it open, rushed up the stairs and out of the house.

So determined was he to escape that he had run almost a quarter of a mile before he realised he was still stark naked, having left his clothes where they fell when the two man had stripped him. Despite his nudity, there was no way he could go back to the house and risk being strapped to that evil machine again, he would somehow have to make it home the way he was.

He ran through the park, at one end of which was a large are area which had been allowed to grow wild, full of long uncut grass and wild flowers.  Spotting some people walking towards him, he ducked down to hide, crouching amongst the vegetation.

Poor Rusty, his bad luck was really holding our, he chose to crouch down amongst some wild flowers which were especially popular with wasps, and
two of the grumpy insects took exception to  the glowing pink object, (Rusty’s well spanked butt) which was suddenly thrust towards them.

With an angry “BZZZZIIT!” one wasp then another flew at Rusty’s naked
backside and rammed their stingers into his tender flesh sending a sharp
stream of toxin shooting like a painful electric shock into the unlucky youth.

“AAAAAGHHH!!!” screamed Rusty, leaping to his feet and clutching his throbbing rear, oblivious to the shocked reaction of a passing couple.  Still holding his well punished bottom, Rusty ran past them and on towards his home.

It would be many hours before Rusty’s rump even begun to stop stinging  No matter how much he tried to cool it down.

Leading to a restless and painful sleep.

The next day Rusty had baseball practice, which proved a very uncomfortable
and embarrassing. The other boys immediately noticed his bright red bottom and teased him mercilessly.

However, worse was to come. When he returned home he was horrified to see  Max Boxer and Leo Russell sitting on the front room sofa talking to Rusty’s dad Hank Brewster, and from the look on their faces he could be sure the three men had not been discussing the football scores.

Hank Brewster swung round in his chair as Rusty entered, “You little …!” he snarled “Mr Boxer and Mr Russell have been telling me what you have been up to!”

“But Dad you can’t believe those two f……!!” cried Rusty before his words
were silenced by the arch of his father’s eyebrow, he knew he was in big
trouble.

“You remember what the judge told you last time Rusty?!!” bellowed the furious man “One more robbery and you are going to prison!”

Rusty did remember the judge’s threat, but had not expected to be caught.

“You are very lucky that Max and Leo have been so generous” continued Hank
“They have agreed  not to go to the police this time!”

“..On condition…” added Leo

“On condition that I deal with you severely!” continued Hank

“.. and regularly” said Max

“W…what do …y..you mean?” asked Rusty unhappily

“I am going to spank your little bottom!” snarled his father “Every day
for the next week!” With that he leaned over, grabbed his son, pulled
down his jeans and underpants and forced him firmly over his knee.

“That is right!” smiled Max Boxer “So long as you deal with the young man in
an appropriate manner we will not take the matter further ….. this
time!”

“Oh I will deal with him appropriately!” replied Hank
“Don’t you worry!”  with that he raised his hand in the air and brought
it down with a loud SMACK!!on Rusty’s exposed and still pink bottom.

“No Dad! Stop!” yelled Rusty “OUCH!! You don’t know what this perverts did to me!” he cried “My ass is still on fire!….OWWW!!”

“Don’t make matters worse by insulting our guests Boy!” snapped Mr Brewster
“Whatever they did to you, I will do twice as much and twice as hard!” he continued to smack his son’s bare behind with all the, quite considerable, force his large muscular arms could muster.

“This might help” said Leo producing a large hairbrush from the rucksack he had brought with him.

“It sure will!” replied Hank taking the offered implement and tapping it against the palm of him hand.

“NOOO!” cried Rusty “PLEASE NO!”

Max Boxer pulled out his camera phone from his jeans pocket and began to
take photographs which he knew would be enjoyed by the members of some
internet groups and blogs he belonged to.

The two men grinned at each other and sat back to enjoy the spectacle.

18 year old Rusty’s bottom would remain very sore for a very long time to come!!

       The End