Please visit the Sore Bottomed Guys Blog for a new illustrated Story “The Adventures of Sore Bottomed Finn” (Most definitely not by Mark Twain)
As visitors know, we do not publish fiction on JockSpank, we don’t have the time and capacity to review and moderate lengthy text, there are other spanking fiction sites and most of our visitors prefer “visual stymulus”
However, I am going to make an exception and recomment Bruce’s new illustrated story “The Shaman’s Revenge” over at the Sore Bottomed Guys blog.
To whet the appetite of those who enjoy fiction , I am publishing the prologue below with links to the first chapter at the very bottom.
If you do Visit Sore Bottomed Gus and Feel like leaving a comment, I know Bruce would appreciate knowing what you think.
Now Read on
The Shaman’s Revenge – Prologue
It was a Friday morning in mid July 1980, and shaping up to be another baking hot day, as Goran Dragic shuffled painfully down the street, carrying a heavy paper bag. The old man was finding it increasingly more difficult to get to the local store, and it was even more difficult on his way home, as now, carrying his purchases. Since his recent illness, his aching body had begun to feel every one of his 82 years. He felt tired, and in need of some peace and quiet. Unfortunately for old Goran, peace and quiet were hard to come by in the fast paced American city where he now lived, an environment so different from the Southern Carpathian mountains of his old homeland.
As he trudged on, his mind wondered back to the land of his youth, a land, which, at that time, was still behind what was then known as the ‘Iron Curtain’, where the legends and beliefs from an older time were only whispered about in secret. Goran, himself, had been the subject of many whispers at one time, for he was said to have inherited powers, known as the “Magija”, from the warlocks and Shamen in his family history.
In the past, in the high and remote mountain villages, far beyond the reach of civil justice, his ancestor’s had used those powers to punish wrong doers, and and to impose natural justice.
Those beliefs and practices had been suppressed under the Soviet system, until they had now largely melted into the mists of history. However, the fact that many had forgotten the old ways did not make the Magija any less potent. It was a new world now, but unlike his ageing body, Goran’s powers, and his mind for that matter, were still as strong and sharp as they had ever been. The powers had not been used in many years, but he still had them, and could call them up again any time should he need to.
Thoughts of his homeland were suddenly knocked from his mind by a violent jarring impact to his right side, which sent him tumbling heavily to the ground. Knocked from his grasp, the paper bag of groceries smashed onto the sidewalk.
Dazed and in pain Goran looked up to see a handsome young man, wearing only a pair of blue “Speedo” swimming trunks and rubber flipflops, looking down angrily at him.
Jordan Draper, being late for swimming practice, had been running through the streets. Listening to his Walkman, a must have new invention at the time, and distracted by his favourite Punk-rock band, Jordan had not seen the old man, and had barged into him, Knocking Goran over and causing Jordan to drop both his dark glasses and the personal Stereo, the second of which had landed in a puddle of spilt milk from Goran’s bag.
“Look what you did you stupid old fuck!” yelled Jordan picking up the Walkman, shaking it and attempting to dry it with his towel “It’s fucking broken!” Jordan was very proud of his Walkman, Sony had only release the first version the year before, and, as with most things, Jordan had the newest and most expensive model, now it was ruined. His anger was increased by the fact that his shades had also been damaged.
“you ran into me!” groaned Goran looking around at his new purchased groceries strewn around amongst broken eggs, spilt milk and a the shattered bottle of wine he had bought as his one indulgence of the week.
“You shouldn’t have been in my way you old Moron!”snarled Jordan
“Help me up please!” gasped Goran reaching out towards the boy. But instead of assisting the elderly man, Jordan just swore, and aimed a kick at him, his foot impacting painfully with Goran’s rib cage and knocking the wind out of his aged body. It was lucky that Jordan was only wearing rubber flipflops, had he been wearing shoes, such a kick would most likely have broken a fragile bone. Even so the kick left Goran moaning and clutching his side in pain.
“That’s for breaking my shades, you careless old fuck!” shouted Jordan “Old morons like you should be dead and not getting in folk’s way!”
Goran looked up at the youth, and his long trained eyes saw through the handsome face and the firm, tanned and athletic body to the arrogant, spoilt and cruel hart beneath them, and he felt a rage welling in his body of a force he had not felt in many years. “You will pay for this!” he hissed “you will pay!”
“What?” sneered Jordan “Fuck off you demented old fool!” he aimed a second kick at the old man, this time bruising Goran’s stomach and making him gasp for breath.
“I will make you pay for this!” gasped Goran
Jordan laughed cruelly and was about to kick his victim again when he saw two men walking down the street towards them “Fuck off, you stupid old fool!” he scoffed “You couldn’t even kiss my ass!” he turned his speedo clad behind towards Goran and slapped his butt cheek contemptuously.
“You will be sorry!” snarled Goran, his bony hands clutching into fists. “Just wait!”
Jordan snorted derisively “You are deaf too? you old fuck for brains?” his lips curled into an ugly grin “I SAID KISS MY ASS!!”
Then, clutching his broken cell glasses, and scowling angrily he ran off in the direction of the local college. He would have liked to give the stupid old fossil a proper kicking, but was anxious not to be identified, and perhaps beaten up, by the approaching men.
Old Goran watched his assailant depart, his shaman’s eyes focused directly on the seat of Jordan’s skimpy swimming trunks, which the boy had insultingly invited him to kiss, and at the firm. Juggling young buttocks, which those speedos hugged almost lovingly.
In his bisexual youth Goran has not been immune to the attraction of a beautiful male bottom, but now he felt only burning fury, and an insatiable need for vengeance. He might not kiss Jordan’s rump, but his had other plans for it! Through the roaring of his rage he felt the ancient power rising within him. “You will pay!” he growled “and you will pay with that little American bottom of yours!! You will pay and you will keep on paying, until I get my revenge!!”
He then spoke in words which no American would recognise, and which few in those far away and mysterious mountains would remember, but they were words which were instantly heard and recognised by other things in a different, darker, place. Things which had slept for a long, long time but which now began to stir.
Moments later the two passers by reached Goran and helped the old man to his feet, as he continued to mutter incantations in an ancient and almost forgotten tongue.
Meanwhile, as Jordan ran off down the street towards the college, he could have no idea of the mystical forces which his cruel and arrogant behaviour had unleashed and that those long dormant forces were now aimed directly at his tender and well rounded, Speedo covered, bottom.
The old man had told Jordan that he would pay for what he did, and the old man never told a lie.
TO BE CONTINUED
WARNING: Sore Bottomed Guys explores the various means of giving deserving young makes a sore bottom, not only spanking. So if you are squeamish about wasps, needles and other unpleasant things to sit on, it might not be the site for you
We don’t do fiction on JockSpank, but fans of Bruce’s photo-manip illustrated fiction might enjoy the latest instalment of of the ongoing saga “The Sting og The Jungle” at the Sore Bottomed Guys Blog
Warning Sore Bottomed Guys does not only feature spanking
He leaned back and gestured at me, seeming to come to a decision.
“Take off the rest of your clothes.” I kicked off my shoes and wrestled
with my belt, rushing before he could change his mind.
Based on the results of the JockSpank poll: “Does Levi Johnston deserve a spanking?”
It was not supposed to be like this, when he had agreed to participate in the TV poll “Should Levi Johnston be given his own Reality TV show, or should he be spanked live on National TV?”, he never imagined for one moment that the answer would be a resounding “He should be spanked live on national TV!”. In his swollen headed arrogance he had been so certain that the nation would go wild at the prospect of a Levi Johnston show that he had invested what was left from what he had been paid for the PlayGirl shoot and what he had made from the sale of his book “Deer in the Headlights” together with everything he could borrow, into advance merchandising, none of which would now be sold, leaving him with huge debts, all of which would have to be paid back.
As a result he had no option other than to go ahead and take the spanking in return for the paltry fee the TV studio had offered. It was either that or he would have to deal with some particularly unpleasant loan sharks, who would in all likelihood do considerably greater damage to a considerably greater number of his body parts. At least after the spanking he would still be able to walk (and breath), if not sit down for some while.
He couldn’t believe that the chicks would not have saved him, and what about his legion of gay fans, surely they would prefer to see him in his own reality TV show rather than getting his bare ass spanked, …… gradually the flaw in that particular argument began to dawn on him.
It hadn’t started too badly, East Coast Democrats in places like Vermont and Massachusetts, still delighted that he had pissed off Sarah Palin had voted for the reality show, but they were a rare exception not joined in any significant numbers until residents of the the crazier corners of California began to vote. Meanwhile, throughout the central fly-over states, the cry of “SPANK THE BRAT!” could be heard from sea to shining sea, growing louder as the states became redder. “Fucking Tea Party” snarled Levi under his breath.
However, the vote was by no means split on party lines, America’s demographic is changing and in many multicultural urban areas, which would usually vote solidly Democrat, people voted in droves to see the white boy get his little pink butt spanked. Likewise, cities with large gay populations like New York, Miami and San Francisco voted for the spanking, few gays may vote Republican, or be fans of Levi’s one time mother in law to be, but they are first and foremost gay, and they had all seen that butt in PlayGirl. If Levi had understood the power of advertising, given his low pain threshold, he would never have risked participating in a vote where him receiving a spanking was an option after posing for all those extremely spankable bare bottom pictures, or that shower video.
When the results had come in they were devastating, and a clear indication that Levi’s high opinion of himself was not widely shared. A gigantic 90% had voted to see him spanked, the reality show was the choice of a tiny, and primarily rather eccentric,10%.
Bad news, they say, often comes in threes, and it was certainly so for Levi, firstly some joker had stolen his clothes from his dressing room while he was taking a shower, leaving him with only a small white towel similar to that he wore in the PlayGirl shoot, to cover his young naked body.
Then ,when the security guards had finally dragged him to the studio, who should he see but Todd Palin wearing a huge, very smug, grin and tapping a large hairbrush against the palm of his hand. It turned out the TV channel had asked if he would deliver the spanking, and he had waived his fee!.
Thus it was that the handsome, but very unhappy Levi Johnston, one time school hockey jock, D list celebrity, nude model and relatively unsuccessful writer, found himself face down across the knee of his one time prospective father in law, in a network TV studio, wearing nothing but a skimpy white towel.
The towel did not provide protection for very long, as a gleeful Todd immediately reached down and firmly lifted it up revealing the very tempting target of Levi’s bare 21 year old bottom.
At that very moment seismologists with particularly sensitive equipment would have reported a slight tremor running across the nation, as, in unison, two hundred million viewers moved closer to their TV sets, had they not all been watching their own televisions or live streaming at the time.
Levi hung his head in shame, his face glowing hot and pink with embarrassment, and with the horror of knowing his total humiliation was about to get infinitely worse.
“Good evening Todd …and .. uh.. Levi!” rasped an unusually animated Anderson Cooper “Welcome to Network TV’s one off, 90 minute, prime time event “Levi Johnston Spanked Live”
“Well Hello Anderson!” replied a cheerful Todd Palin, while a miserable, humiliated, and delightfully bare bottomed Levi just glowered silently.
“As I say, this a 90 minute live show Todd, are you up to it?” asked Anderson Cooper raising an already arched eyebrow
“Don’t worry Anderson, I’ll fill that slot, with footage to spare” grinned Todd “When do I get to start?”
“When you are ready!”
Todd was more than ready and did not need to be asked twice. He immediately raised the hairbrush above his head, before bringing it down with a stinging “WHACK!” on Levi’s quivering pink butt cheek, followed within nano-seconds by a ringing “SWACK!” across the other inviting and equally trembling butt cheek.
“YAAAAOOOWWW! ….. AAAAGGGHHOOW!” yelled Levi “Stop, I’ve changed my mind!”
But there was no going back, Todd Palin was not going to stop, and the TV networks had sunk too much money into the show to let an arrogant little twerp like Levi to wriggle out of his obligations. Levi’s protestations were ignored, he was getting spanked like it or not.
The blows continued to rain down on poor Levi’s exposed and vulnerable behind with a loud “WHACK!! ….WHACK!! …SWACK!” Levi was mortified, not only was he being publicly humiliated by being spanked naked, like some little kid, in front of a national TV audience of millions, plus a syndicated worldwide audience in numbers he could only guess at, but it also stung like fucking hell!!!!”
By now Todd was really enjoying himself, he was 110% straight, yet few things in his live had been quite as pleasurable as was toasting Levi Johnston’s plump little tush, it was something he had looked forward to for a very long time, and he was going to enjoy every moment, with each blow he paying back the good looking little jerk for each slight and slur he had inflicted on the Palin family, and compensating for all the hurt the young asshole had caused. This thought reminded him of all the things the young varmit across his knee had done over the last three years and Todd continued to belabor the swiftly reddening rump with added vigur. “WHACK!! ….WHACK!! …SWACK! …WHACK!”
As Anderson Cooper watched Levi Johnston’s bare legs kicking in the air and the piston like rotation of Todd Palin’s spanking arm, he became aware of a odd, but not unpleasant sensation swelling in his lower body, which to his amazement he swiftly identified. This was most unexpected, he was a member of a particularly refined liberal social and political elite, a scion of a socialist dynasty to the far left of the Democrat party, a debunker of birthers, a scourge of the Tea Party and, until now, a lifelong opponent of corporal punishment. Yet, contrary to a lifetime of experience and against his better instincts, he was for the first time considering the possibility of being attracted to a Republican.
It would take months with his analyst before he was able to determine which of the two men in front of him, and which of their respective positions, Anderson found most desirable.
Finally, Todd threw the hairbrush to the floor, however, Levi’s ordeal was far from over. A significant number of voters had chosen the supplementary option in the poll which said that Levi should be “paddled until he cried”, and Todd was determined that they should get what the voted for.
He ordered Levi to bend over and then picked up a large leather paddle.
“It make no difference kid” chucked Todd Palin guessing at the cause of Levi’s reaction, “They already knew you were an asshole, they are now just seeing the evidence!!”
With that he delivered a thunderous “TWHACK!” across the centre of Levi’s reluctantly proffered bottom, eliciting a highly satisfying yowl of distress from the miserable and bending 21 year old hunk in front of him.
The show would rank among the top ratings hits of the decades, in state after state parks and town centres were empty, as from homesteads and apartments in every city every town and every rural community could be head shouts of “SPANK THAT BRATT!” … “LET HIM HAVE IT!” …. “WHOP THAT ASS!” Followed by whoops and loud burst of applause. With the exception of a small number of anti-spanking campaigners, and sundry misguided do-gooders, the vast majority agreed that the networks had rediscovered a lost art of entertainment, and in general they applauded the deal the main television channels had made with HBO and various cable channels, enabling then to change established policy, and broadcast images of male nudity at prime time.
As Todd watched the sobbing Levi rubbing his still cherry red bottom, which resembled nothing so much as two little ripe tomatoes, he had the satisfaction of knowing that a not only well deserved but also long lasting punishment had been inflicted. He smiled to himself reflecting on the fact that although the sting would eventually fade from Levi’s smarting young bottom, the sting to his ego would be an unwelcome companion for years to come.
As an added bonus, Todd knew his wife would be in a very good mood that evening!!
Note: The story involves spanking and other forms of Butt punishment
By the artist Franco
At Robotron Robotics Inc., Dr Robert Smythe, senior fellow and Director Of Research is testing the new M-38 Robot. Dr. Smythe stated that the new M-38 is currently sporting heightened and enhanced abilities, including a more advanced tactile touch comprehension, as well as greater speed, agility and strength. The new, robot also boasts improved reasoning and intuitive skills and compared to it’s predecessor, a much, more, efficient problem solver.
For the test Dr Smythe gave the robot a one word command program instead of writing a list or a grouping of basic, functionary commands. This word (program) was known only to Dr. Smythe so as not to compromise the test in any way.
The M-38 executed it’s task flawlessly, easily deciding the best methods with which to prepare and present the subject and volunteer assisting with this critical experiment; Junior Research Associate, Jimmy Orbbs, the youngest member of Robotron’s research team. Mr. Orbbs was initially, quite excited to be part of this test.
As the test progressed, the entire research team was impressed with the abilities of the M-38. Even Robotron’s previous model, the M-37 was able to follow and document the entire process with interest. Dr. Smythe deemed the experiment a complete success!
However, Jimmy was not at all enamored with the test and voiced his displeasure. As the experiment progressed, the usually cooperative, Mr.Orbbs became less and less willing to proceed and became quite adamant about halting the test.
Resistance proved futile, as the M-38 responded to the junior researcher’s un-cooperative behavior by briskly applying, (at length), a wooden ping pong paddle squarely across Jimmy’s bare, upturned posterior, thus giving our junior researcher his first, spanking ever in his young, thirty one years.
“It’s kind of an antique,” I continued, “but I’m sure it’ll still do the trick!”
“Noooooo, Dad. PLEEEEEEEASE!“
Jerry took the stout wooden brush and passed it down the line.
Paul hefted the hairbrush admiringly, and offered it to Mike.
“Well thanks, Paul,” replied Mike with mock courtesy while Rusty trembled in miserable anticipation. “But I think you should have first crack, so to speak. After all, it was you who went with him to all those smoking cessation classes”
Turned towards the floor, Rusty’s face began to look a bit hopeful again. The men’s jovial banter made it seem like maybe they were only kidding around, and weren’t really going to spank him with the hairbrush.
The boy was wrong!
With a rush, tears were in his eyes and then running down his face.
“Bawhawhaw!” the teenager sobbed. “Hawwww! Hawww! I’m sorry. Bawhawwwww!”
CRAA-AACK! CRAA-AACK! CRAA-AACK!
“Owwwwww!” He moaned. “Pleeeease. Un-cle Paul! Aaaaah!”
“Will…CRAA-AACK!… you…CRAA-AACK!… stop…CRAA-AACK!… smoking…CRAA-AACK!“??? Uncle Paul demanded.
“YES!” Rusty cried out. “Yes, Uncle Paul. STOP! PLEEEASE!“
“I’m not gonna stop this spanking until I’m sure you’re gonna quit smoking!” Paul said, his voice definite.
CRAA-AACK! CRAA-AACK! CRAA-AACK!
Rusty’s uncles took turns blistering his scorched backside with the relentless brush while the others held him down.
Finally, it was over. A broken, sweaty boy lay sobbing unrestrainedly across their laps
“OK, Rusty,” I announced. “Turn around and show your uncles your bottom. We’ll let them decide if you’ve had enough.”
Rusty turned, obviously greatly embarrassed and displayed a very red and tender-looking backside for the men on the couch to admire. His face was wet with tears, and the boy’s expression was a mixture of fear and hope — he clearly did NOT want to get spanked any more.
“I think that’s one of the reddest butts I’ve ever seen, ” exclaimed Paul with a grin. “What about you, Jerry?”
“I don’t know if it’s THE reddest,” joked Jerry. “I see a couple of pinkish spots that could stand to be touched up a bit with that hairbrush.”
“UNCLE JERRY!” Wailed the boy. “NOOOOOOOOOO!”
This caused a good deal of general amusement.
“Nah. I think the boy’s had enough,” remarked Mike. “What about it boy? You think you had enough?”
“Oh yes, Uncle Mike!” gushed the boy. “Please don’t spank me any more!”
“So, you think you’ve learned your lesson, have you Rusty?” Jerry passed me the hairbrush, and I tapped it against my open palm.
“Yes, Sir. Please, Sir. I’ll quit smoking. I SWEAR!!!” The boy rubbed the flaming surface of his bottom.
“All right then, son.” My voice was gentle. “Come here and give me a hug.” The grateful boy threw his arms around my neck and sobbed quietly as I hugged him close.
“I’m sorry, Daddy. I really am.” He whispered in my ear. I held him a little longer and then released him with a final squeeze.
“OK, Rusty. I believe you.” All of a sudden, I felt very proud of the boy.
“Go give your uncles a kiss, and then off to bed.” It had been a while since Rusty had engaged in the bedtime-kiss ritual with his uncles, but he didn’t hesitate to obey. Smiling, the men stood up, and one-by-one, the naked young man hugged them, pecked them on the cheek, and whispered a heart-felt promise.
And then, a very chastened boy, with a thoroughly sore backside scampered — almost happily — off to bed to sleep on his tummy…safe in the knowledge that someone cared.
Click here to read the whole story
I note that some visitors have not been very impressed with the image quality, :-)) all I can say is the pictures were made almost ten years ago, and were my earliest attempt at PhotoShop.
“Don’t make me come over there and get you, boy.” I said in my gruffest voice. “You don’t want to see what happens to your butt if I have to come over there and get you.”
“Please, Sir.” Rusty begged, his voice on the edge of tears. “Not in front of my uncles, Dad! Please!” The men on the couch chuckled, and the boy’s face burned with shame.
Slowly, Rusty made his way across the room and lowered himself across my lap. I patted his butt and noticed that it was still hot from the earlier spanking.
I punctuated my words with a couple of hearty spanks to the boy’s tender buttocks.
“They’ve done nothing but treat you well… Take you places…buy you things. But, more important, they’ve taken care of you and been there for you whenever you needed or wanted anything.”
SMACK! CRACK! CRACK!
The boy’s head popped up with each spank of the hand. He did his best to keep his face turned away from the men on the couch, but his sobs and muffled cries were still plainly audible. I could see tears in his eyes — whether of pain or humiliation — it was hard to tell.
I plastered the boy’s upturned butt with merciless, stinging swats. His legs kicked furiously.
“Hoo boy, Rusty,” Chuckled Uncle Mike. “Your little butt shore is gettin’ red!!! I reckon those cheeks are gettin’ about as red as those tomatoes we planted last summer.”
“Ow! Ow! OW! Dad!! PLEASE!!” Rusty pleaded. The three men on the sofa nodded appreciatively.
“I’m thinking that this spanking is WAY overdue, how about you, Jerry?” Uncle Paul asked nodding his head. Rusty muttered something indistinctly from his daddy’s lap.
WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!
“Seems like a boy Rusty’s age woulda learnt his lessons by now ‘bout keepin’ his word when he promises to quit smoking. But, I guess it’s never too late to give a boy the discipline he needs to help him get back on the straight and narrow!” Uncle Jerry commented dryly while the almost-naked boy squirmed and whimpered over my lap.
Rusty shot me a look of alarm over his shoulder.
“Stand up boy,” I barked. Rusty backed off my lap clumsily and got to his feet, wobbling like he was a bit dizzy.
“Get those stupid little girly panties off…NOW!!”
“Hurry up, boy. I know you don’t want to piss me off any further.”
Turning away, Rusty shame-facedly peeled the offending thong over his tender, burning buttocks.
As I left the room, Rusty turned to look at me with pleading eyes.