Sunday, 11 February 2018
The Shaman's Revenge - 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 ...