The Sting of The City - FULL VERSION (Episodes 1 to 3)

The Sting of The City

Continuing the "Sting of the Jungle" series

This was previously posted in three instalments

It had been a long flight across the Atlantic, during which Boy had not made himself popular with the flight crew as he bounded around inside of the aircraft, hanging from, the luggage lockers, constantly demanding food, which he insisted on eating with his fingers, and occasionally trying to peer up the female flight attendants' skirts.

However, to the intense excitement of Boy, and the relief of his fellow passengers the plane finally landed at John F Kennedy airport in New York.

Boy had surprisingly little difficulty getting through customs and immigration control. This was possibly due to the fact that his loincloth was so short he was self evidently not smuggling anything, and, by coincidence the staff on duty were either females or gay males, all of whom were enchanted by his golden haired good looks and had not had the opportunity to experience his less attractive character traits.

Boy had convincingly claimed that he was visiting relatives in New York and would be returning to the jungle in a few weeks, and, although he had no idea where his US relatives lived and had no intention of ever returning to Africa, he had been believed and let through.

Therefore, it was not long before he was walking into the arrivals lounge, excitedly anticipating starting his new life in America, free of all the jungle creatures, which all seemed intent on stinging his bottom. Thrilled by his liberation, Boy at first failed to notice the interest his near naked appearance was causing to those around him. Dressed in nothing more than a skimpy loincloth, Boy certainly stood out from the crowd.

However, although some may have been shocked by his lack of clothing, for the majority of observers his toned and athletic young body was an unexpected site which engendered more feelings of admiration and lust than disapproval.

Having no US dollars to pay for a taxi, Boy had a long bare foot walk before he eventually arrived in the city, and it was only then that he began to notice the attention his appearance was causing. As he walked down the street he suddenly realised that people were stopping to stare at him, which made him feel uncomfortable and very exposed by comparison with everyone else. 

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Distracted by his discomfort, and unfamiliar with navigating city streets Boy accidentally stepped into the road and jumped with a start as a yellow cab almost hit him and it flashed past blaring it's horn.

A second cab, passing in the other direction actually brushed against him, it's side mirror catching his loincloth and tearing it from him as it passed.

All of a sudden Boy was totally naked standing in the middle of a crowded New York street, surrounded, by people all staring, pointing and laughing at him. 

Crushed by embarrassment, Boy clamped his hands over his exposed groin, but could not cover his bare bottom, which was now on full display.

Instantly his jungle training came back to save him, with three huge bounds, over the roofs of passing cars, he grabbed the side of a building, and like the, ape trained, boy he was, began swiftly and deftly climbing up the side of the towering structure.

Up and up the side of the skyscraper he climbed, his well practised feet and fingers finding tiny footholds in the seemingly sheer surface until he was almost in the clouds, however, heights were no problem for Boy, who had spent much of his time in the jungle canopy, he was just happy to be out of the sight of the crowds below.

Boy finally reached a penthouse roof garden at the top of one of the towers where the foliage, albeit in large wooden plant boxes, gave him a sense of home and security where he could hide from this strange, clothes wearing world he had landed in.

Kneeling behind a low wall, he peered over the edge watching city life rushing on below him, and decided to wait for nightfall, when darkness would enable him to hide from people as he hunted for some means of covering his naked body.

Of course, unlike the jungle, night in the city did not bring darkness, if anything the lights from the streets and buildings made it even brighter than daylight.

However, Boy knew that he could not stay in his eyrie forever, and that he had to scavenge for clothes and food, so eventually he began a careful descent from the top of the building, climbing down the back of the structure, where there was less direct light.

Once reaching the ground he kept to the shadows and dark alleyways, until he reached an empty side street leading off a larger street consisting mainly of shops, which, as the shops were now closed, was considerably less crowded than elsewhere in the city.

Boy crept down the street fascinated by the array of clothes on sale, until he saw, what he assumed to be, a very smart light grey designer suit, which looked as it was in his size. The suit was similar to one he had seen in a picture in an in flight magazine he had read on the flight over.

In the picture, the man in the suit had been surrounded by beautiful and scantily clad women all gazing adoringly at him. Perhaps owning a similar suit could gain Boy similar adoration from equally hot chicks.

Moments later the shop window shattered as a garbage bin, which boy had easily broken free of it's attachment to a nearby lamp post, smashed through it. Boy jumped into the window, deftly avoiding the broken glass, and quickly stripped the suit from the mannequin, before also grabbing a shirt, tie and shoes which were also on display.

With the stolen clothes under his arm, Boy sprinted off into the night.

***********

Once he had clothes and with his innate guile and good looks, it did not take Boy long to find a room in a shared apartment with a middle aged man called Wesley Ritter, who was prepared to wait for the rent, if he could watch boy showering. Boy thought this odd, but assumed it was a “city folk thing”, and went along with it in exchange for somewhere to live.

In addition to housing Boy on the promise of future rent, Wesley used his contacts to get Boy a job in brokerage firm in Lower Manhattan, which was how Boy was to start his brief, and ill fated, career in high finance.

Rechristening himself as Guy, and wearing his stolen grey suit, Boy, with his handsome blonde looks, and boyish charm was initially welcomed warmly by his fellow workmates, especially with the females and gay men.

However, it was not long before the less attractive side the Boy's character began to show itself. Free from the moderating influence of Tarzan's firm, hard. hand and even harder paddle, it was not long before Boy's arrogant, selfish and downright nasty behaviour had totally alienated his co-workers.

Boy's bad behaviour extended to his leisure hours, when he wasn't pursuing women at city bars and nightclubs, he was using his jungle learned athletic prowess to bully and humiliate weaker and less able people. Being almost totally self interested, Boy did not realise how unpopular he was making himself.

Among those who had originally welcomed “Guy” warmly, but soon learned better were Marc Temple and Kamil (Kam) Nowak, two gay men who, after having met through work had recently moved together. Being gay, Marc and Kam had initially been delighted by the newcomer's handsome appearance and athletic young body, however, this did not last long, and they soon developed a strong dislike for their new co-worker, albeit, while still considering him totally hot.

They also soon realised that Guy was up to no good, as he was clearly spending far more money than he could possibly be earning. Kam worked in the firm's IT department, so he was able to view Guy's computer records and discover that the young villain was syphoning company funds into his own bank account.

“Ha!” cried Marc when Kam showed him the evidence “Now we get to teach that jerk a lesson!!

“Yes!” smiled Kam, he is going to get what he deserves!”

***

It was early Friday evening and most of the staff at the brokerage firm where Boy now worked had left for the weekend. Usually Boy would have been one of the first out the door, keen to spend his wages, rent money, and undisclosed additional income in the clubs and bars of the Upper West Side, enjoying the company of the scantily clad girls and women who always crowed around him due to his good looks and lavish spending habits.

However, this Friday Boy had stayed late in the office, he had received a mysterious memo instructing him to attend a special out of hours meeting on the executive floor. Boy was curious to know what the meeting was about, and why he had been invited. Arrogantly, and with a startling lack of self awareness, he wondered if he was in line for a promotion or bonus. Although, in truth, his standard of work could hardly warrant a reward of any sort.

Had he been so tardy and careless with his chores back in the jungle, Tarzan would certainly have toasted his little bottom, however, nothing like that was going to happen in the city, or so Boy thought.

Just before six thirty boy took the elevator to the 18^th floor, the executive floor, where the meeting was due to take place, he glanced at himself in the mirror, and was pleased he looked so hot and handsome in his new, black, designer suit.

When he was in the jungle, Boy had no interest in his appearance, but since he had been in the city, and discovered how women responded to his handsome looks, he had added personal vanity to his long list of character flaws.

He smiled to himself, confident that his appearance would impress the bosses he was about to meet with.

What Boy did not know, was that all the company executives were attending a weekend team building seminar in Colorado, and the executive floor was, therefore, unoccupied that evening.

When the elevator arrived on the 18^th Floor, Boy made his way to the office where he had been told the meeting was to be held. Expecting the room to be full of company bosses, he knocked on the door rather than walking straight in.

“Come in” said a strangely familiar voice.

Boy entered the room and to his surprise, instead of seeing a room full of a room full of company executives and bosses, as he had been expecting, the only people there were, as he would put it, “that weedy Marc Temple guy from the office and the Polish faggot from IT”.

Boy was angry, he had stayed late in the office on a Friday hoping for a reward or promotion, not to have a meeting with two insignificant jerks. “What do you morons want?” he sneered.

“Ah Guy!” smiled Marc “Thanks for accepting our invitation, we have something we would like to show you.”

“Can't it wait until Monday? I have plans!”

“I think you will want to see this now” replied Kam, pointing at a computer screen.

Making no effort to hide his irritation Boy stomped across the room, and looked at the monitor Kam was indicating. At first the jumble of data made no sense, but then as what he was looking at began to become clear an icy chill ran down the handsome blonde lad's spine.

The data Kam was showing him detailed each time Boy had secretly syphoned funds from the company account and paid them into his own bank account. He had thought he had been so clever, by only diverting small amounts each time, but Kam's report had highlighted every time he had done it.

“That's quite an amount you have been stealing from the company Guy” grinned Kam, “Just under $30,000 in two months, …. you being so greedy made it easier to spot”

“I would guess that would be worth about five years in prison!” said Marc, unable to hide the glee in his voice “Probably more given your betrayal of trust!”

“Prison won't be fun!” murmured Kam “What with you being such a pretty boy and all!” he laughed “Your little butt will get screwed by every con in the joint!”

Boy was stunned, he couldn't believe that his genius plan had been so easily detected. His initial reaction was that this was some sort of shake down, and he began calculation how much of his ill gotten gains he could offer these grinning fags to keep them quiet. The evidence was to clear to deny, so he had to make a deal.

“Okay, okay Guys!” he snapped, furious at being caught out, whilst trying and failing to sound reasonable “how much do you want?”

“We don't want your money Guy” replied Marc “We want your butt!”

“Fuck off!” Boy almost snarled “I'm not like that!”

“We don't want to fuck you fella'! … well, maybe another time” laughed Kam “Right now we are going to spank you!”

Boy stepped backward, as if struck, those were words he had hoped never to hear again. “No chance you ….. you … fuck!!” he stammered “That's not happening!”

“Either we spank you, or you are going to jail Guy!” sneered Marc

“Where all the cons will be after you as their bitch!” added Kam

“Guys … guys … lets be reasonable about this!” said a now very nervous boy.

“Drop your pants!” relied Marc picking up a wooden ruler from the desk, and sitting down on a conveniently paced chair next to a desk overlooking Central Park “and then get over my knee!”

Boy could see from Marc's expression that he was deadly serious, that ruler looked as if it had the potential to inflict a lot of pain, but there didn't seem any way of avoiding being spanked with it. To his horror he saw that Kam was holding a rubber soled carpet slipper, which he had clearly brought with him for the purpose of spanking Boy's butt. Tarzan had once spanked him with an old slipper, and he knew how much they could sting.

Reluctantly Boy unbuttoned his suit pants and let them slip down to his knees.

“And your underpants!” ordered Marc “drop them now”

Marc and Kam looked on in barely concealed delight, as the now very miserable Boy pushed his thumbs into the waistband of his white cotton underpants and slowly lowered them, exposing his cock and balls as he did so.

Marc's sadistic instincts were conflicted, whilst being impressed by the size of Boys equipment, he had secretly hoped this blond hunk would have a small cock which would add to the humiliation of its exposure, yet, at the same time he relished the prospect of belittling and punishing such a perfect, and well proportioned, specimen as the beautiful young man, now standing before him with his underpants around his knees.

“Now get over my knee!” he snapped

“You can go over mine next!” laughed Kam, smacking the slipper against the palm of his hand.

“You bastards will pay for this!” snarled Boy as, knowing he had no other option but to obey, he shuffled angrily towards the sneering Marc, and laying face down across his knee.

The two men then took it in turn to spank Boy's bare and, as ever, very tender, bottom.

First Marc gave him twenty four swinging swat with his wooden ruler, as Boy struggled and kicked over his lad, and Kam stood watching.

Kam then took Marc's place and began whacking Boy with the rubber soled slipper, as Marc watched, laughing and calling out encouragement as he did so.

Boy was seething with anger, he had left the jungle to escape from Tarzan and the thousand different creatures which kept hurting his bare bottom, and now here he was on the 18^th floor of a New York skyscraper, 4,000 miles from the jungle, getting his bare butt spanked by two sniggering gay boys!!

After he had finished spanking Boy with the Slipper, Kam followed by Marc gave Boy a firm hand spanking, which, in both cases, culminated in a rapid fire series of fast hard slaps to reinforce the message.

Throughout the ordeal Boy was ordered to remove various items of clothing, until at the end he stood totally naked before them clutching his sore and well spanked bottom.

He had hoped that, by escaping to the city he would never have a sore bottom again, how wrong could he be?!!

“Have you done?” he mumbled knowing, despite the growing fury in side him that he now had no chance of regaining any dignity in front of these two.

“Done?” echoed Kam “Have we done?” the note of mockery in his voice so obvious that Boy's initial, and barely controlled impulse was to knock his teeth down his throat.

“No Guy” smiled Marc, “We haven't 'done' … not close!”

“W...what …. but you just spanked my ass!”

“One little spanking, won't cover what you've done!” he paused to enjoy the pleasure of watching the horror spread across Boy's handsome face “We plan to spank you whenever, we feel like it, wherever we decide to, and with whatever we chose!”

“And” added Kam “I think we are going to feel like it quite often!”

“No! You can't do that …..!!” spluttered Boy

“Your choice fella'” Replied Kam with a shrug “Either you take the spankings, or you are going to prison!”

Of course, Boy had no option gut to submit to the couple's demands, and over the next week he would receive at least on text or e-mail from Marc or Kam instructing him to either stay late after work or meet them in some unoccupied room within the office, such as one of the the basement stock rooms, where he would receive yet another stinging spanking.

Within days boy's behind was so well spanked and sore that the sting never faded, and he literally could not sit down without discomfort.

By the following Friday evening, as Boy lay face down on his bed trying to cool down his burning bottom with fans and ice cubes he knew he was going to have to take drastic action to bring this situation to an end.

Boy's bad luck had followed him across the ocean, he was being blackmailed by two men with genuinely sadistic instincts, and limited compassion. The guys were clearly enjoying their sadistic pleasures and also having such extensive power over him. He knew they would not stop and that if he didn't obey their orders they would make good their threat, and enjoy doing it.

His only option was to stop them, permanently.

************

Despite the gun laws in New York, it had proved very easy for Boy to obtain a gun. Even though he had only been in the country for a short time, he had made some very shady acquaintances, including people happy to supply him with a weapon and not ask any questions.

Therefore, early the following Sunday morning, when he guessed that Marc and Kam would still be in bed, he made his way to their down town apartment, with a gun in his hand and murder on his mind.

***

Breaking into Marc and Kam's apartment was easy for Boy, because of his long practised climbing skills he was able to reach an open window, which would have challenged the most nimble cat burglar. However, he did not have the common sense, or cunning, to match his ability to climb, so it did not occur to him that there might be items on the window sill, which would clatter noisily if knocked over, or that the two men might have been expecting him.

Having made enough noise to alert the most unsuspecting householder that there might be an intruder, Boy crept into the hallway, hoping that the men might be asleep and he still had the element of surprise. Of course, he was out of luck.

Boy froze as an amused voice behind him spoke “Good morning Guy!, I wondered if you would pay us a visit. Now if you could drop that gun I might not have to shoot you!”

Boy turned round and saw a grinning Marc Temple standing behind him, holding his own gun which was pointing straight at his groin. Boy's first instinct was to try and shoot Marc first, but realised just in time that, before he had even had time to raise his gun, Marc would almost certainly have time to fire a bullet into him, and from the angle Marc was aiming it would be his much prized manhood which took the impact.

Reluctantly he loosened his grip on his gun and let it fall to the floor.

At that moment, Kam appeared at the doorway, having apparently been in the shower. “I see we have a visitor!” he said.

“A visitor who was planning something very nasty!” replied Marc looking down at Boy's discarded gun “But, don't worry Guy, we forgive you, don't we Kam?”

Kam raised an eyebrow quizzically, not sure what Marc had in mind.

“In fact”, continued Marc, “To prove there are no grudges, we are going to give you a tennis lesson!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” sneered Boy, keen not to show any fear.

“You'll see!” replied Marc “but first, you won't need your clothes … now strip”

Reluctantly, and glowering furiously Boy obeyed, removing his t-shirt, shorts and sneakers, leaving only his jockstrap and socks.

“Great!” laughed Marc “Now lets go play tennis” he motioned with his gun, pointing to a door at the end of the hall.

“Don't start without me!” chuckled Kam hurrying into the bedroom to get dressed, “this should be fun!”

A very unhappy and apprehensive Boy walked slowly towards the door which Marc had indicated. Upon opening it he saw a narrow staircase leading downwards.

“one real bonus to our apartment! Said Marc “is that we have sole access to and use of the basement which we intend to convert into our ….... er … games room!” he again gesticulated with his gun “The janitor is not around at weekends, so we will not be disturbed. Go on, you can lead the way!”

Boy, followed by Marc, walked down the stairs, which, after passing three sealed doors to other floors in the building, led into a large and mostly empty cellar.

“Roll that barrel into the middle of the room!” ordered Marc, speaking with a newly dominant tone, and pointing to an old wooden barrel by the wall.

“What for?” asked Boy grudgingly

“Do as you are told, if you don't want a lead implant!” shouted Marc aiming the gun at Boy's groin again.

The barrel of the gun and the clear threat in Marc's voice was all the incentive Boy needed to do as he was told. He tipped the barrel on it's side and rolled it top the centre of the room. As he was doing so they were joined by a barefoot Kam, who had hastily donned a T-shirt and jeans.

Once the barrel was in place the men ordered Boy to lie face down over it and then proceeded to tie him over it with ropes which were conveniently lying by the wall. While doing so, they tightened the ropes around Boy's legs, so that his jockstrap framed bottom was spread and exposed. Boy could feel the cold air on his most intimate parts and cringed knowing his light anus was now fully visible to these two gay men.

“Ever heard the expression 'we've got you over a barrel' Guy?” asked Marc with a grin “well, now it's for real, and we can do whatever we want!”

Boy's mind raced, imagining what they might have planned for him, every option which occurred to him more frightening and unpleasant that the previous one. None, however, came close to what the men actually had in store for him.

To his horror, Boy heard a rumbling sound, as some large contraption on wheels was pulled across the room. In vain he tried to peer over his shoulder in order to see what had been placed behind him, but because of the way he was tied down he was unable to look back far enough to see what was there!

“W...What's that?” he asked, unable to control the tremor in his voice “What are you doing?”

“It's a tennis ball machine!” replied Marc “we use it to help improve our swing!”

“You have probably noticed we have quite effective swings!” added Kam

“It's a clever little machine, it shoots out tennis balls which we have to hit with out racquets”. Explained Marc, “You have to be fast, as the balls travel at a speed … especially when I turn it up to maximum! ….. allow me to demonstrate!”

He pressed a button on a control pad, and a ball shot out of the contraption behind Boy and hit him with a hard “WHAM!” on his upraised behind.

“AAAOWCH!” yelled Boy

“See what I mean!” smiled Marc “Now we can play a game, however, as you haven't got a racquet, you can use your butt to stop the balls!” He pressed the button again sending another ball hurting towards Boy, and bouncing off his bare bottom with a loud “THWACK!”

“As I said I can vary the speed, and if I set it on automatic it will shoot out a ball every five seconds!!” he pressed the button again and another ball whammed into Boy's butt cheek, leaving a circular red mark next to the previous two. “However, we might do that later, for now we will keep the controls on 'Manual' so we can test our aim!”

“Stop it you Bastards!” yelled Boy “That fucking hurt!”

“And this will hurt even more!” replied Marc as he pushed the button twice in succession, sending two balls hurtling out out of the machine, one after the other and hitting Boy's behind on the same spot, a fraction of a second apart.

“what you were planning to do to us, with that gun, was a lot worse than we are doing to you!” shouted Kam “so you deserve this!” He turned to Marc, “Give me the control, it's my turn!”

Marc handed him the control, and Kam, who, in turn, fired a series of tennis balls at Boy's now very sore bottom

“And you present such a tempting target!” added Marc

“I spot an even more tempting target!” laughed Kam, pointing at Boy's little pink anus which was exposed due to the way boy's legs and butt cheeks were held apart by the ropes. “How do I aim this thing?”

“use the blue dial, next to the red button!” replied Marc “it controls the angle of the pipe the balls come out of!”

Kam moved the dial slightly, as instructed, and pressed the button, sending a hard round tennis ball, shooting towards Boy and hitting him hard in the middle of his right butt cheek.

“Damn Missed!”

He tried again, but this time succeeded only in hitting the top of Boy's thigh, just where it connected with his left butt cheek, this was an especially sensitive area and Boy screamed in pain.

“Here, give it to me!” said Marc “let me do it!”

Taking the control from Kam, Marc fiddled with the dial and again pressed the button, but aiming the device at such a small, tight target was more difficult than he thought and again, one tennis ball missile after another whammed into the reddening cheeks of Boy's bare bottom.

“Damn thing!” he muttered “It's designed to shoot the ball out at different angles to challenge the player, but I should be able to aim it!”

He tried again, gently moving the dial to one side, and held it still while he pressed the button with a free finger. This time the ball was right on target, it shot out of the funnel at the front of the machine, hurtled through the air and collided with Boy's delicate puckering portal with a bruising “BAM!” sending an electric like shock of pain shooting through Boy, from his prostate to his jaw.

Boy yelled in agony, as the two sadists cheered in delight. “Bullseye!” yelled Marc “He will have felt that!”

Let me have another try laughed Kam, reaching for the control.

Boy now realised that Marc and Kam were enjoying themselves, and were not going to stop, he was either going to get out of this situation, or these men were going to do him serious injury, or maybe worse. He knew that many young men went missing each year in America, and frantically wondered how many of them had fallen victim to the likes of these two.

Summoning up all the strength in his arms, developed over his years growing up climbing trees and swinging on vines, he strained his muscles and pulled on the ropes attaching him to the barrel.

At that moment, Kam pressed the controls and sent another tennis ball flying at Boy's behind. Although this ball, again missed his anus, it bounced off his left cheek with a violent “Thud!”. The blow sent a searing surge of pain shooting through his body and, as if by a miracle, the impact, gave him the extra strength he needed to break the ropes holding his wrists and ankles and freeing him.

He leapt to his feet and swung round to face the men, and, as he did so, realised that Marc no longer had his gun in his hand. Confident that Boy could not escape, Marc had placed it on a table at the side of the room, and now both Marc and Boy dived for it.

By far the more agile, Boy reached the gun first, grabbing it he turned to face the other two.

“I should kill you bastards!” he hissed

“Do that, and you really will go to prison Guy!”

“No I won't, I am going home!” snarled Boy “fuck this damn city!” he paused “Give me your wallets!”

With the weapon pointed at them, the men had no option other than to obey and handed over their billfolds. Boy quickly rifled the wallets with one hand, whilst keeping the two angry men at gunpoint with the other before stuffing a wad of notes and two credit cards into the front pouch of his jockstrap.

He then ordered Kam to tie up Marc, before tying up Kam himself, he couldn't allow the guys to call the police before he had made his escape.

Leaving Mike and Kam tied to chairs, where they would remain until the janitor arrived the next day, boy climbed out of the basement window and ran off down the street, causing a lot of surprised glances given his scanty attire and bright red bottom.

Two hours later. Boy was at the airport, holding a one way ticket purchased with one of the men's credit cards, and queueing for the first flight back across the ocean to the relative safety of the jungle.

________________

The Sting of the jungle will continue.