Soccer Jock Humiliation - Updated

Picture revised following input from QBuzz

Loki and Thor, Chastised by Odin – Fantasy Art By Mark

Loki and Thor, Chastised by Odin – Fantasy Art By Mark

Naughty Loki and handsome but arrogant Thor feel Odin's Fire in this fantasy sequence by Mark, specially created for Sore Bottomed Guys

Click Here see more of Mark's work 

 

Soccer Jock Humiliation

Soccer Jock Humiliation

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

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

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

 _____________

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

 

The Fantasy Art of Mark (Part 4 of 4)

 

Here is the fourth selection of the work of the Spanking fantasy artist Mark, who has kindly agreed to contribute to this blog.

Click here to view part One

Here for part Two

and here for Part three

You can view more of Mark's work at the JockSpank Blog by CLICKING HERE

The Fantasy Art of Mark (Part 3 of 4)

 

Here is the third selection of the work of the Spanking fantasy artist Mark, who has kindly agreed to contribute to this blog.

There is so much to enjoy in every picture Mark creates, from the sizzling hot imagery to the cleverly chosen scenarios and wicked humour in the text.

 

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The Fantasy Art of Mark (Part 2 of 4)

Here is the second selection of the work of the Spanking fantasy artist Mark, who has kindly agreed to contribute to this blog.

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Introducing the Fantasy Art of Mark

 

Introducing the Fantasy Art of Mark

Sore Bottom Guys is thrilled to announce that the outstanding Spanking fantasy artist Mark, has agreed to become an occasional contributor to this blog.

Many of you may know Mark for his postings to JockSpank, but for others, discovering Mark's work will be an exciting new gem to add to their fantasy treasure box.

Mark's work can be enjoyed not only for the unquestioned cleverness and skill of the artistry, but also for the incredible eroticism and wicked humour, all directed where it should be at the very deserving bottoms of handsome hunks, jocks, dudes and assorted bad boys, often with an added dose of humiliation for good measure.

By Way of introducing Mark to Sore Bottomed Gus, over the next few days I will be reposting examples of Mark's sexy images, selected by the artist himself. These have been previously posted to JockSpank, but are delights which are more than worth rediscovering!!

The first of these selections are below, I know you will love them.

In future, Mark will contribute to both sites, and we hope that from time to time he will create images especially for Sore Bottomed Guys.

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The Shaman's Revenge Part 14 - Jordan meets the Cody Brothers

The Shaman's Revenge Part 14

Jordan meets the Cody Brothers

As Jordan got closer to the buildings he had spotted in the distance, his heart began to sink. From what he could see this was no picturesque country farmhouse with roses round the door or a white picket fence, and the chances of it being inhabited by a friendly plump farmer and his wife, who would feed him pumpkin pie and lend him their eldest son's grown out of jeans were diminishing with each step he took.

 

The buildings appeared somewhat dilapidated and in poor repair, in fact were it not for the half dozen or so scrawny looking chickens pecking at seed corn in the yard and a rather ragged carpet, hanging on a line, he might have concluded that the property was unoccupied. Whoever did live in the ranch was obviously not house proud, and Jordan's instincts told him he was unlikely to receive a friendly welcome.

He decided that instead of seeking out the homeowner and asking for help, he would merely see if there was any food or clothing he could steal before continuing on his way.

Moving as quietly as he could, he crept up to the old ranch house. He sprinted quickly up to a small sash window and peered into what appeared to be a bedroom with an unmade cot, and, he was pleased to note, a pile of discarded clothes in the corner. In the past he would have disdained the idea of wearing someone else's discarded clothes, but he was now in no position to be choosy. At least he could cover his nakedness and then maybe find his way to the kitchen and some food.

He attempted to prize open the window, but it clearly had not been opened for years, and was sealed shut. He considered breaking the glass, but decided the noise would alert whoever lived in the farm of his presence. 

 

In the hope of finding an easier window, he tiptoed round the side of the house, and, for once, his luck was in, as one of the windows had been left open, he hurried up to it and cautiously looked in to what appeared to be a very old fashioned and run down kitchen with a kitchen table, covered with 1950's style plastic with a large kerosene lamp in the middle. Against the wall was large Iron stove, reminiscent to something one might see in a frontier type movie. However, of most interest to Jordan was a tiny walk in cupboard at the side of the room, which appeared to me a larder.

At the very thought of a larder his stomach began to rumble with hunger. It was now almost 24 hours since he had last eaten, a for a boy who was accustom to three meals and a few snacks a day, this was all but starvation. Jordan loved food, to the point of over indulgence, and it was only his healthy metabolism and active lifestyle which kept his handsome body in it's sleek athletic state.

Much as he needed clothes, his stomach needed food even more, so his first priority lay in whatever was in the larder. After taking a swift look around to ensure he was still unobserved, Jordan quickly clambered through the open window into the kitchen. Whilst ensuring he made as little sound as possible, he hurried over to the larder and looked inside.

The content of the larder was rather disappointing, given the marked lack of candy, cheeseburgers or hot dogs. However, there was bread, oil and there was also a bowl containing about a dozen eggs and a small jug of milk.

They would have to do.

Of course he couldn't eat raw eggs, so he carried the bowl across to the old iron stove. He noted with relief that it was still alight, and it only took a little poking and some extra kindling to get it flaming and heating up the stone ring on the top.

He then poured some oil into a heave based frying pan, which he placed on the ring to heat up, before cracking most of the eggs and tipping the contents into the pan and stirring it together to make rudimentary scrambled eggs.

The eggs were ready in minutes, and once they were, Jordan quickly scraped them onto a plate, before carelessly discarding the pan onto the side of the stove. Then, still naked, he sat down at the table and hungrily devoured the eggs and bread, whilst drinking milk straight from the jug.

Jordan was so occupied in consuming his first meal in a day, he failed to hear the door behind him opening, or the sound of stealthy footfall creeping towards him.

The spidery sense that there was someone behind him finally hit Jordan just too late to save him, as a large, leathery, sun tanned hand landed in his shoulder and a loud voice with a distinct Country ca dance snarled in his ear “How dare you sneak in butt nekid' and steal from our larder you thievin' Varmit!?”

Jordan leaped to his feet and spun round to find a huge mountain of a man, bulging with muscles and shaggy black hair, on both his head and chest, looming over him with an unmistakably hostile and menacing expression on his face. Then a second man, equally muscular, but with a bristling light brown beard entered the room.

Floyd and Billy Bob Cody, together with their younger brother Seth, had lived in their remote ranch house for most of their lives, ever since their papa was locked away in the county prison for killing a man in a bar fight and their mother had abandoned them after taking up with a tractor salesman from North Dakota. The Cody boys had been looked after by their grandmother, Ernestine Clutterbuck, until she, sadly expiredd from an excess on sweet potato moonshine and chewing tobacco.

Living mostly alone, with only the acquaintance of a few nearby ranchers, the Cody brother had little experience of city folk, but both could spot a pretty city boy when they saw one, and Jordan was an unconscionably pretty boy. Both men felt a stirring in their groins, which they didn't fully comprehend.

“My .. my clothes were stolen .. and I...I was hungry!” stammered Jordan, keenly aware that he was in a very dangerous predicament. Unfortunately, his explanation didn't help

“So!” hissed Floyd, holding his face so close to Jordan's that the latter could feel the spit on his face “Just 'cos, someone stole from you, you thought you could then rob us blind did you boy?!” his lip curled into a cruel shape “You need a good whopping youngun' and you're gonna' get one” with that he snatched the, still smoking, pan which Jordan had used to cook the eggs, from the stove! “This'll do just fine!” 

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