The Adventures of Sore Bottomed Finn ( Prologue)

The Adventures of Sore Bottomed Finn

Prologue

Finn was in a furious mood as he sped along the open country road on the expensive blue motorbike his doting mother had bought him on his 18th birthday the previous year. It was one of the various luxuries he had become accustomed to while living at home in the city, and one of the few he had ben able to bring with him after being exiled to live with his step-father in what he liked to term “Rubesville”.

His banishment from urban life had been a condition set by the court, as his last chance to avoid a custodial sentence, following various encounters with law and order. It was safe to say this was proving a challenging culture shock for a pampered and spoilt brat like Finn. Not only did he have a low opinion of his Step father, who was nowhere near as generous or tolerant as his wealthy mother, but he lived in a rural backwater with none of the excitement and diversions the city had offered Finn and which had led to his entanglements with the police.

As he turned a corner, he noticed a path leading off the road at the entrance to which was a large sign which stated PRIVATE – No Trespassing. Finn in his short eighteen years had not been accustomed to being denied anything hence the sign had the duel effect of both raising his interest and irritating him.

He was curious as what the secret was at the end of the path and annoyed at being told he could not see it. Characteristically, he chose to ignore the notice, swerved off the road and steered his bike down the bumpy country path. He was stubbornly determined to see the forbidden sight at the end of the path.

After he had travelled less than half a mile the path led him to a forest at the edge of which was a small lake and more signs one instructing him that swimming was forbidden, and another, which was half hidden by foliage, announced “NO TRESPASSING – Violators will be …” the rest of which was obscured by leaves. However, it was the no swimming sign which interested him more.

Being told he could not do something inevitably made him more determined to so it. Hence, after leaving his bike next to a pile of rocks, he quickly stripped off his clothes in order to indulge in the countryside pursuit of skinny dipping.

He ran to the edge of the lake before stripping off his underwear, then, when fully naked he plunged in.

The water was colder than he had expected on such a warm day, but he soon got used to that , and find the cool water pleasantly refreshing. However, it was also very salty, which surprised him, but did not concern him as he had spent his childhood summers playing in the salty water off his grandparent’s Florida beach house.

Although, as an occasional athlete, Finn excelled at tennis and field sports, he was also a competent and confident swimmer, and he easily moved through the glassy water until he was in the deeper water towards the centre of the lake.

It was there that he was to discover the cause of the lake’s high salt content. Although it was hidden by the trees and a small range of hills, the lake was in fact only a few miles from the edge of the ocean by which it was connected by two tidal rivers one above ground, and the other subterranean.

Only weeks before, a huge ocean storm had washed nany thousands of gallons of sea water into the lake together with various sea creatures, including a small swarm of jellyfish, and it was with these opaque but electrical little creatures that Finn was to make unwelcome contact. The contact was particularly unwelcome for Finn, for it was his bare bottom which one brushed against with a stinging result as a forceful electrical current surged through his exposed skin.

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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.

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Sting of the Jungle III (Part 2)


Click here for Sting of the Jungle III (part1)
 

Boy
felt very sorry for himself, he had not been able to sit down
comfortably for days, after Tarzan had spanked him immediately after
removing the porcupine quills from his bottom. To make matters worse
all his loincloths had been confiscated because he kept losing them,
therefore, he was naked at all times, which was not only
embarrassing but he also felt very vulnerable, especially since he
had discovered that the object he had seen Tarzan whittling was a
paddle.
If
anything, night time was even worse, as the sting in his bottom kept
him awake, so he just lay there thinking about how awful it was to be
stuck in a boring jungle with a strong armed muscle man who believed
the answer to any problem was to spank it. He determined that, as
soon as he could, he would escape to America and live in a city,
where he could wear clothes and never get spanked again.

However,
he would keep that plan a secret, he didn’t wish to give Tarzan any reason to make his bottom any sorer than it already was.

Luckily Boy
was young, and the young heal quickly, so within a few days his
bottom returned to an unspanked and, rather delightful like pink
shade. Once again as the sting in his tail faded, so did his self-seeking resolve to be good. He was just about to sneak off and find
somewhere private, where he could jack off, when he heard Tarzan
calling for him.
Damn,
what’s that jerk want now?” he thought. 

He considered hiding,
however, the memory of the last spanking had not sufficiently faded
for him to risk another one just yet. Adopting a pose of nonchalance,
tinged with as much insolence as he dared, he sauntered into the
jungle clearing where Tarzan was waiting, his arrogant attitude
somewhat undermined by the fact that he was as naked as a baby.

Boy
grimaced at the sight of the two large empty containers at Tarzan’s
feet, as he knew they meant he would be ordered to carry out one of
his least favourite chores.
The
barrel is almost empty again!” snapped the older man “I told you
to keep it full, or we will have nothing to drink or wash with! You
need to fill it up now”
The
sulky expression on Boy’s face expressed exactly how he felt about
this task. It would take ten containers to fill the water barrel,
that meant five trips to the river carrying heavy containers of
water.
You
had better wear this” said Tarzan “holding out one of Boy’s
confiscated loincloths “In case the women from the village are
there.” he added “However, if you loose this one, you won’t be able to sit
down this side of the monsoon season!”
Of
course I won’t loose it! sneered Boy hurriedly grasping at the first
vestige of dignity he’s been allowed in days “I am not stupid you
know!”
Tarzan
raised one eyebrow as he watched Boy hurriedly putting on the
loincloth, but decided to keep his council for the moment. The
older man grinned, he had a sneaking suspicion that boy’s pert and
perfectly formed bottom would be back over his knee, receiving
another well deserved spanking, once again in the very near future!

-/-
It
was a hot day and, despite being remarkably fit and athletic, by the
time Boy had completed two trips to the river and back carrying heavy
containers of water he was hot, sweaty, irritable and feeling in need of a
break. The cool river water looked very tempting, he decided to take
a quick swim before continuing his heavy task. Careful not to get the
loincloth wet, he stripped naked and left the precious garment by a
tree on the river bank before diving into the water for a brief
skinny dip.
He
did not notice that Hector, one of the chimpanzees which Tarzan had
raised from a baby, had followed him to the river, and was sitting on
the bank, watching him splashing about in the shallows.
The
chimp harboured a strong resentment for Boy, who had bullied it
cruelly for years, and as it observed the naked boy, oblivious to his
beauty but keenly aware of it’s animosity towards it’s sometime
tormentor, a plot began to form in Hector’s almost human brain.
A
highly intelligent creature, Hector understood a lot of human
language and the line “You won’t sit down ..” was a phrase it had
heard often enough to understand what it meant and to appreciate the
implied threat they held for it’s adversary’s bottom. It understood
that Tarzan had used the phrase in connection with the piece of cloth
he had given to Boy, and concluded that, were Boy to loose that piece
of cloth, Tarzan might inflict pain on Boy’s rump. If so, it would
be an outcome which the vengeful ape would find very pleasing indeed.
The
Chimpanzee hurried over to the loincloth and snatched it up, waving
it in the air and making loud hoots and screeches to attract Boy’s
attention.
Hearing
the noise, Buy spun round and spotted the chimp on the bank “What’s
that dumb ape doing?!” He thought, then he spotted the loincloth
gripped in Hector’s fist “Put that down you stupid fucking
monkey!” he yelled, but Hector just let out a chattering laugh and
scuttled off toward the woods, still carrying his trophy.
At that moment Boy
suddenly realised that his bottom was very bare and very, very
vulnerable
He
waded hastily to the bank, knowing he had to retrieve the loincloth
or he would be in for a serious spanking, he gulped, maybe Tarzan
would even use that damn paddle on him!
The
chimp scampered away through the long grass towards the jungle with
the naked Boy in hot pursuit desperate to retrieve his loincloth and
avoid a paddling.
Once
in the jungle, Hector looked back and impudently waved the loincloth
at Boy, as if taunting him.
Damn
you, you little brute!” snarled the angry boy running towards the
monkey. Unfortunately, Boy was so intent on catching the animal he
did not watch where he was going, he tripped and fell forward into
the narrow crook of a tree.
Boys
continuing streak of bad luck was showing no signs of leaving him. To
his horror he found that when he attempted to free himself, he found
he could not, he was held tight in the tight gap between the trunk
and a branch, which gripped him firmly round the waist. He struggled
in an effort to get loose, but this merely made his predicament
worse, by pushing his front half forward whilst raising his peachy
bare bottom up and presenting it naked an exposed like a sacrificial
offering to a pagan god.
He
heard Hector’s shrill chatter transform into a mocking cackle and he
determined he would, one day slaughter that ape!
He
had been stuck in the vice like grasp on the tree for a few minutes
when he became aware of the sound of something approaching him from
behind. He stiffened in fear and a bead of sweat formed on his
forehead. Not all the predators in the jungle were tame, due to his position he was
unable to clime a tree to avoid sharp teeth and claws, whilst he knew
his lower half would appear a tempting feast for a hungry carnivore. 

In fact the approaching “thing” was two young men from the
village on the edge of the jungle, returning from an unsuccessful
hunting expedition.

The
first youth to enter the clearing stopped in amazement at the sight
which met him, a handsome white bottom and legs protruding from a
fork in a large wild fig tree. His surprise did not last for long,
there were only two semi naked white men this deep in the West
African jungle, and from one glance at the pert young bottom and
toned athletic legs he could be reasonably sure it wasn’t the more
bulky and muscular Tarzan.
Boy
was well known to the villagers, but, unlike the popular Tarzan, Boy
was not well liked. He was generally considered an arrogant and
selfish brat, whom they widely suspected spied on the village girls.
They all delighted in the stories of Boy’s many misfortunes, which
invariably resulted in Boy receiving a very sore bottom, which in
their view he richly deserved.
It
was no great surprise to find that Boy had got himself into yet
another embarrassing predicament, and the youth’s heart missed a
couple of beats at the prospect of this time being the one in a position to give Boy his sore
bottom.

Joined
by his companion, who exploded in giggles upon realising what an
opportunity for a bit of entertainment they had happened upon, the
two youths approached Boy’s exposed and vulnerable backside. The
first youth lifted his spear and jabbed first Boy’s left butt cheek
then the right one with the sharp point.
Boy
cried out in shock and pain, his first terrified thought being that
the sharp points were the teeth of a leopard , and then he heard the
very human sound of laughter and his fear turned to anger and
humiliation!
The
other youth joined in and both had some fun jabbing Boy’s sensitive
bottom with their sharp spears and laughing as their target squealed
in pain and outrage, threatening them with any amount of revenge he
was in no position to inflict.
The
youths eventually tired of that game, but they were not finished with
Boy by any means . Freeing him from the crook of the tree, they
immediately trussed him up like a turkey with hanging vines and proceeded to
hoist him into the air.  Whilst he hung helplessly before them they smeared his behind with fresh
honey from the honeycomb they carried with them for energy.

Laughing happily at Boy’s discomfort, the two youths then headed back to the village leaving Boy hanging from the vine.

At
first Boy did not understand the purpose of the honey, but it soon
became clear, as the sweet sticky substance attracted every stinging
insect in the vicinity, which all came swarming around his behind in a
frenzy of buzzing and stinging.
Boy
yelled and struggled as the as the tiny but toxic creatures attacked
him with vigour, covering his well jabbed and honey smeared bottom with painful
stings.
Boy’s
struggling snapped the vines by which he was hanging from the tree,
and he hurtled toward the hard jungle floor….
Where
he made a painful landing.
Boy
lept to his feel, clutching his tortured behind and let out a yell of
anguish, a not unfamiliar sound in that corner of the jungle.
The
loincloth briefly forgotten the red bottomed Boy made his way home. However, he
remembered it as soon as he met up with Tarzan and saw the look on
his face, and the paddle gripped in his hand. Boy knew instantly that
he was about to be spanked!
Boy
was not wrong, Tarzan was furious, not only has his miscreant ward
clearly lost his clothing again, but he had only filled a quarter of
the tank with water. To make matters worse when he had gone to the
river to find what was taking Boy so long, he had been just in time
to see the precious containers, which Boy had left on the bank
floating off down stream towards the mighty Congo river, where they would be lost forever
The
containers had come from a aircraft which had crashed a few years
earlier and would not be easy to replace that deep in the jungle.
Boy would have to carry water in banana leaves in future. However,
that punishment would come later, right now it was time for the especially crafted
paddle to be put to work. Tarzan strode forward grabbed hold of Boy,
slung the lad over his shoulder and headed towards a rock, where he
sat down and placed Boy firmly across his knee.
Boy
was then paddled from various angles, first on his back over Tarzan’s
knee with his legs in the air.

Then
bent over a fallen tree, his long athletic legs kicking helplessly behind him, as Hector the sadistic ape, shrieked with delight.
For
the next twenty minutes the sound of whacking echoed through the
jungle, as the birds and animals fell silent listening to the
familiar sound of Boy’s progressively more frantic cries.
Finally
it was over, Tarzan marched off into the jungle clutching the still
warm paddle in his hand, leaving a well punished Boy crouching on all
fours, his glowing red bottom sticking up in the air.
Hector,
the chimpanzee which had followed Boy when he returned to camp, and
happily watched while his enemy was punished, looked on, pleased, in
it’s almost human way, with it’s day’s work. 

About
to eat a banana, the sight of Boy’s fiery red spanked bottom and the
now exposed puckering portal between the cheeks, caused a more appropriate
use for the curved cylinder shaped fruit began to form in it’s mind,
a use which would add a final, uncomfortable, humiliation to Boy’s
catalogue of mishaps. 
Hector
waddled up to Boy, and with one swift movement, rammed the banana
firmly into Boy’s upraised anus, forcing it in until only a couple of
inches remained exposed, protruding from the tight orifice.
The expression on the ape’s face couldn’t have said more clearly, “Now you’re fucked asshole!” 

Boy
gasped in mortified horror as the hard and rather large alien object
invaded his most intimate parts, momentarily frozen in shock, shame
and humiliation. This had certainly not been a good day.

The End

Sting of the Jungle III (Part 1)

 Part 1

Boy
was in a good mood, it had been over a week since the unfortunate
incident with the chilli paste and days since Tarzan last spanked
him. As always, as soon as the sting faded from Boy’s bottom, his
nineteen year old mind began to move on to misbehaviour, and all
promises of being good in future, no matter how genuinely they were
meant whilst the imprint of the older man’s palm still glowed on his
cheeks, began to fade together with the angry pink of his last
spanking.
After
resentfully hurrying through his obligatory chores, boy ran through
the jungle until he reached a tree which gave him a good vantage
point from which he could view the section of the river where the
village girls often went to bathe. His young loins throbbing with
testosterone, he was planning to jack off while spying on them.

 

 

However,
to his annoyance once he reached the top of the tree, he was just in
time to see two of the girls, fully dressed and walking away from the
river bank, their wet hair evidence he had arrived too late to view
their ablutions.
Damn!”
he hissed “it was fucking Tarzan’s fault!” insisting that he
clear rocks, when he could instead have been getting his rocks off
peeping at naked women.
Well
there was no point in sitting up a tree with no entertainment, so he
decided to go somewhere private where he could relieve his
frustration. Taking hold of a hanging vine he launched himself into
the air, his lithe young body swinging effortlessly through the
trees. 
 

 

Unfortunately
for Boy, with his mind focused on his need to masturbate, he failed
to watch where he was going, and, it was only at the last moment that
he saw that he was swinging straight towards one of the long horned
cattle from the village, which had obviously wondered into the
jungle. He was swinging straight towards one of the animals horns.
Boy jerked the vine, in an attempt to avoid the animal, but it was to
late, and he was swinging too fast. He only had time to clench his
teeth, as his tender bottom hurtled towards the long sharp horn.

 

AAAAAAGGGGHHHHOOOOWW!!!”
yelled Boy as the hard and cruelly pointed tusk, shot between his
cheeks and roughly forced itself between the puckered pink lips of
his rectum, and up inside him, painfully stretching the tight and
narrow channel beyond. The experience was made even more
uncomfortable from the fact that Boy’s most intimate passageway was
still bruised from a recent, and very similar encounter with a rhino
and still extra sensitive from the Shamen’s hot chilli potion, which
Tarzan had mistakenly rubbed into it. (see part 2)
Tears
streaming from his watering eyes, Boy still had the presence of mind
to grip the vine the ine in an effort to prevent himself sliding
further onto the horn, and becoming totally impaled. However, his
efforts were assisted by the now enraged steer, who dislodged his
unwelcome burden from the end of his horn, before any serious damage
was done, as, with a violent shake of its head, he sent Boy flying
through the air and landing, heavily, and painfully on the hard
ground.

 

Boy
jumped to his feet, clasping his smarting behind, all thought of
masturbation replaced by the throbbing ache between his cheeks.
Boy’s
day had not started well, and it was about to get even worse.
*******

 

The
unhappy youth made his way home rubbing his sore bottom as he went,
he was feeling very sorry for himself. However, that feeling soon
gave way to a different emotion, one of intense nervousness, when he
spotted Tarzan ahead of him, and noticed that he was in the process
of whittling an odd looking wooden object, using a small, but very
sharp, knife. Boy had never seen an object like it before, it was a
flat piece of wood, probably half to three quarters of an inch thick,
narrow at one end, forming what appeared to be a handle. Running
down the centre of the wider end of the object were two rows of round
holes.

Although
Boy did not recognise the object, he had a reasonable idea as to its
potential application, and decided to would be wise to keep himself,
and, in particular, his sore little bottom, as far away from it as
possible.
He
decided that the best course of action would be to climb back up the
tree, and stay there for a while.
However,
Boy had only made it a short distance up the tree, when, for a second
time that day, his carelessness was to have a very painful outcome on
his young bottom.
  

 

Failing
to spot an African hornet’s nest, his bare foot accidentally kicked
it as he climbed past, shattering it into pieces and sending it’s
furious inhabitants into and angry, buzzing, frenzy . As is an angry
hornet’s way, their initial impulse was to sting the nearest object
they could find as revenge for the destruction of their home.

 

It
was Boy’s bad luck, that the nearest sentient object to the hornet’s
wrecked abode was his, very tempting and very exposed backside, which
was immediately spotted by a number of the irate hornets. The
immediately flew straight at it, and sunk their sharp acid filled
stingers into the tender flesh, sending shocks of electric pain
shooting deep into boy’s posterior, causing the lad to shriek in
horror and agony. 
 

 

Knowing
he had only seconds before the whole swarm was onto him, Boy had only
one option, which was to release his grip on the branch which was
holding him and let himself fall out of the tree. As he did so, a
branch snagged his loincloth, ripping it right off, and leaving him
falling naked towards the ground.

 

As
has, no doubt, by now been established Boy was not born under a
lucky star, and as fate would have it, just at that moment a crested
African porcupine was walking beneath the very tree from which was
making his rapid and, bare bottom foremost, descent. Compounding the
bad news, was the that said Porcupine was, at that moment seeking to
impress a nearby female of its species by splaying its sharp pointed
quills, which were pointing skyward in the very direction from which
Boy’s ill fated bottom was fast approaching.
Although
mercifully unaware of the prickly beast’s presence, Boy realised that
his landing was likely to be painful, so he grabbed hold of a vine in
the hope of slowing his fall. 
 

 

Although
this action probably saved him from serious and even permanent
injury, and the porcupine from almost certain death, it only slowed
his fall, which still ended in a painful landing, as the unlucky
miscreant ended up, as only he could, bestriding and sitting upon
the porcupine, its needle like quills jabbing into his hornet stung
bare bottom!
Tarzan
came running at the sound of Boy’s howls of distress, and quickly
helped the wailing lad off the back of the traumatised porcupine and
carried him back to the cave, where he kept the medicine and
supplies, and where he and and his young ward slept during the rainy
season.

 

For
the next hour Boy’s world focused on a ring of exquisite agony
surrounding his upturned, pin cushion resembling, bare bottom, as
Tarzan gently removed the mass of porcupine quills jabbed into it. In
its shock the creature had not fired its quills, and, thanks to the
vine slowing his landing, the quills were not, embedded very deeply
into Boy’s delicate behind, but removing them was still a long and,
for Boy, a painful process!!
As
mentioned previously, Boy had the added misfortune for someone quite
so accident prone, of having an exceptionally low pain with the
result that even low levels of discomfort were difficult for him to
endure with good grace. This discomfort was, of course, on a
different level altogether, and as result yelled and protested
non-stop. However, it was at the very point when Tarzan was the
removing the final quill, which was embedded more firmly that the
rest, and in a particularly sensitive area just millimetres from his
horn bruised anus, that Boy made the mistake which was to add
considerably to his woes.
YEEEOWWCH!!”
he yelled “THAT HURT! YOU F##KING C##T!!”
Tarzan
reached forward and grabbed boy by the ear “WHAT DID YOU CALL ME?”
He snarled “HOW DARE YOU?!!” with that he pulled boy to his feet
and then sat down on a rock, still gripping Boy firmly by the wrist.
“After I devote my valuable time to helping you, all you can do is
speak to me like that …….. You need to be taught some manners
young man!”

Boy
looked in Tarzan’s face and instantly recognised the determined
expression, as the horrific realisation of what his mentor was
planning began to dawn!
No!”
cried Boy “Please Sir not THAT!!” he tried to pull away, but
Tarzan’s grip was like a steel trap, offering Boy no means of escape.
“Please don’t spank me Sir! My bottom is so sore!”
You
should have thought of that, before you used that filthy language!”
growled Tarzan, pulling the struggling 19 year old over his lap “If
you think your bottom is sore now, just wait until I have finished
with it!”

 

With
that he delivered a mighty SMACK! to Boy’s bright red behind,
causing the lad to yelp in pain. “I don’t know where you …”
SMACK! “…learnt that language!…” SMACK! “…but I am going
to..” SMACK!! …”make sure…” SMACK! “…you never use it
…” SMACK!” “again!!” SMACK!!SMACK!!
OWWW!!
…OUCH!! …STOP!” please stop!” protested the wriggling and
struggling Boy “STOP …YOUR FU…. YOUR KILLING ME!!”
Oh
you’ll survive…” SMACK! “…you just won’t be able to…”
SMACK! “..sit down..” SMACK! “for a few..” SMACK! “..days!”
SMACK! … “Just think yourself lucky” SMACK! “I am not using
the new..” SMACK! “.. paddle I made..” earlier
Ignoring
Boy’s pleas Tarzan applied his leather like palm to Boy’s glowing
rump with vigour as a further thirty five smacks echoed around the
cave, accompanied by Boy’s increasingly tearful cries.

 

Finally
Tarzan stopped “I shall be soft with you, because you are already
sore” he snapped “however, if I ever hear you use that language
again, I won’t stop at fifty!” with that, he shoved the lad off
his lap, causing the unfortunate young man’s well spanked and
porcupine pricked behind to land hard on the stony floor, causing yet
another yell of pain.

 

Tarzan
then jumped to his feet “And as you have lost another loincloth!..”
he boomed “you will stay bare bottomed in future!!” he turned and
marched out of the cave leaving boy sitting on him battered behind,
whaling like a baby.
Boy
gingerly stood up, tears running down his face as his hands caressed
his severely punished and beacon red behind. Tarzan was right,
there would be no likelihood that he would be sitting down , and time
soon, and how humiliating to be bare bottomed at all times,
especially when his behind revealed the clear evidence of his
spanking.
He
hoped that there wouldn’t be any visitors to the camp for a while.

I
just can’t get any worse than this” he sniffed feeling very sorry
for himself.
That,
of course, was where Boy was wrong. It could get worse, as he would
soon find out …….
To
be continued ….
( Sting of the Jungle III part 2 will be posted shortly)

A painful landing

This scenario was suggested by R from the UK, a visitor to Sore Bottomed Guys.

Any suggestions as to the story behind this? Here is my suggestion:

Aaron Carmichael learnt his lesson for bullying his little brother Tim the night he snuck down to the cellar where he kept his secret stash of pot. Too late he discovered that Tim had set a trap for him.

“OWW! … OUCH….OWW!”
yelled Aaron as he he bounced heavily down the steps on his bruised bare butt, little knowing that Tim had left some special treats for him on the lower steps.

_______________________________
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