Category: Uncategorized

Posted on

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.

Click
on the Read More tab below to continue

TO BE CONTINUED
You
can see more of Mark’s work at the JockSpank Blog by CLICKING HERE
Posted on

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!” 
Click
on the Read More tab below to continue

 

He
then took hold of Jordan by the ear and forcibly marched him over to
an old wooden chair in the centre of twhat passed for he cabin’s
lounge.
“No
please sir!” wailed Jordan “Don’t hit me with … that!! I will
pay for the food … my Dad will pay you, just phone him!”
“We
don’t have no telephone here!” growled Floyd “You are gonna’ pay,
and you’ll pay with that pretty lil’ white butt o’ yours!” he sat
down and roughly pulled Jordan, face down, over his knee into what,
for Jordan, was becoming a depressingly familiar position..
With
that, he raised the pan up above his head and then brought it down
with a resounding “THUD!” on Jordan’s upturned bottom. On
account of having been left on the side of the old cooker, rather
than directly on the hot plate, the pan was no longer hot enough to
cause scaring burns, but it was still hot enough to feel as if it
was! Jordan’s high pitched squeal of pain and outrage echoed round
the shabby wooden room, followed with a second and a third, as Floyd
continued to wallop him with the hot, heavy bottomed pan.
“Yeah!
Whop that city boy’s butt Bro!” shouted Billy Bob “Whop him good!
Make him feel it!!”
Jordan
was certainly “feeling it”, the strength of Floyd Cody’s blows,
combined with the retained heat of the old frying pan, felt to Jordan
as if his tender butt was literally being fried.
His
yelps of pain merged into wails of anguish and then and then loud
uncontrolled sobs, as his muscular captor continued to assail him.
Finally
Floyd stopped pan paddling Jordan, he stood up, and scooped the young
man up under his arm as easily as if the 18 year old athlete were a
light as a feather.
“Say
Bro!” cried Billy Bob “That city boy butt sure does look pretty.
All red an all!” he grinned “I could just eat that, roast with
sweet potatoes and a carrot up his ass!” 
 
Floyd
looked down, at Jordan’s glowing, just paddled, bottom and long
tanned legs sticking out from beneath his massive hairy armpit “Yeah,
I’d say it does look kina’ pretty like that, we’ll have to make sure
it stays that way!”
Billy
Bob reacted excitedly to the implication of his elder brother’s words
“Can we keep him Floyd!” he asked gleefully “Please Bro lets
keep him, then you can spank him every morning and I’ll do it each
evening to keep his city boy tush pretty and red!”
“Well
okay!” replied Floyd “Just so long as you an’ Seth keep guard of
him during the day, stopping him from running off, and make sure he
earns his keep!”
“Oh
yes, we’ll guard him!” insisted Billy Bob “we will make sure he
does stuff round the farm …….!” he paused, and grinned
sheepishly “and then have some ….. fun with him!” he chuckled
Jordan
listened in horror to the men’s discussion, he certainly did not like
the idea of being kept or … being had fun with!! “Please Sirs,!”
he stammered “Let me go, I need to go home …. I won’t say
anything ….!
“Shut
your mouth Varmit!” snapped Floyd delivering a resounding WHACK to
Jordan’s upturned bottom with the pan he still held in his powerful
hand. “Come on Billy Bob, lets put him in the cellar.”
The
men carried Jordan down to their cellar, repeatedly bumping his head
against the wall as they did so. Floyd then tossed him onto the hard
earth floor, before he and Billy Bob tied their captive up.
As
the felt the cellar, Billy Bob looked back “Sleep well, pretty
boy!” he said “We’ll have some fun in the morning”
Needless
to say, Jordan did not sleep well, the throbbing pain in his bottom,
together with the horror of his situation, and fearful anticipation
of the “fun” Billy Bob had in mind for him kept him wide away.
Even later, when he did fall into an unhappy and fitful sleep, he was
haunted by awful and frightening dreams, all focused on the new
torments he was sure would soon be inflicted on his long suffering
behind.
Jordan
had been living though a period of extraordinarily bad luck, but even
by those standards, his luck had now taken an especially nasty turn.
He dreaded to think what further misadventures were in store for him!
TO
BE CONTINUED
Posted on

The Shaman’s Revenge Part 13 (Unlucky for Jordan)

The
Shaman’s Revenge Part 13 (Unlucky for Jordan)
Jordan
was a very unhappy jock, not only had he been abandoned in the middle
of the great American wilderness, facing a walk of over 70 miles to
get home, but he was bare ass naked as well.
If
that was not bad enough in itself, he knew for certain exactly what
would be happening within minutes of Cindy Mae Carpenter reaching the
vicinity of a telephone. She would phone every member of her vast
group of girlfriends to tell them that she had tricked that dumb jock
Jordan Draper into stripping naked, then stolen his clothes and left
him to walk home in his birthday suit.
He
knew Cindy Mae well enough to know how much she would relish boasting
about what she had done, and would make sure everyone knew every
detail. No doubt she would embroider the details, to boost her role
and make him appear even more comical than he already did. He
cringed, at the thought of her yapping voice, trilling with
excitement as he repeated the tale over and over again, and at the
scornful laughter which would greet the message.
Then
the friends, like a sonority from Hell, would tell their friends and
then all the girls in town would tell heir boyfriends, and within 24
hours it would be the talking point of every bar and and locker room
within a fifty mile radius. Everyone would have a good laugh at yet
another total humiliation for the guy who, only weeks before had top
jock on campus and master of all he surveyed.
He
knew that his good looks and sporting prowess, combined with his
arrogant manner meant a lot of people secretly resented him, and he
knew just how much they would enjoy his comeuppance, and telling
others about it. 
 
How
could he ever live this down and face his team mates and buddies, let
alone the local girls. The thought of their mocking laughter echoed
in his head, as he walked disconsolately on through the forest .
An
always in the background of his thoughts another face hovered, this
time a male one, also wearing a scornful and mocking expression.
Jordan had no idea how the ranger was behind what had happened to
him, but, somehow he knew he was.
After
walking for almost an hour his mind consumed by his mournful
thoughts, he realised that he was no longer on the road. He must
have left it without noticing and was now in open countryside. He
quickly spun round and looked behind him, but there was no sign of
the road, and he had no idea where he was.
As
he stood there, a look of horror and fear on his handsome face the
awful truth began to dawn on him, he was lost, naked and many miles
from home.
He
attempted to retrace his steps, but he had been so deep in thought he
had not taken note of his surroundings and, therefore he could not
identify any familiar location which would confirm he had been there
before. The upshot was that within twenty minutes he had completely
lost his bearings and was totally lost in increasingly unfriendly
terrain.
He
eventually reached a clearing in the middle of the forest, and found
himself in what appeared to be an overgrow, and, he incorrectly
assumed, unused, field, at the edge of which was a wire fence.
Jordan
realised that as the fence was self evidently man made, there must be
something beyond the fence, maybe the road, or some form of dwelling
where he could get help, despite how embarrassing that might be. He
therefore, made his way across the field towards the fence.
He
say there was a notice on the fence, but assuming it was an order not
to trespass, he did not bother to read it. He would have to trespass
if he was going to find help.
When
Jordan reached the fence he could see it was almost waist high, and
that was no obstacle for a lithe young athlete such as Jordan, He
could easily get get over such an easy object. 
Raising his body with
one foot on tip toe, he lifted the other leg so that he was
defectively straddling the fence. Unfortunately for Jordan, the
ground beneath the one bare foot which was taking hs whole body
weight was in fact the roof of a ground hog burrow. Hence at the
very point where his tentacles, prostate region and tight, still in
real terms virgin, anus were hovering above the wire. the ground
beneath him gave way.

Click
on the Read More tab below to continue

 

As
a result he tumbled and landed heavily on the wire one ball either
side and the puckered lips of his tight anus effectively gripping the
wire. 
 
At
that very instant, it became painfully clear to Jordan that the sign
he had ignored did not say “No Trespassing” but instead it said
“Warning Electric Fence”! This fact brought forcibly home
to our careless hero as a bolt of electricity shot straight into the
young swimmer’s most tender and intimate body parts, his butt hole,
balls and the thin ridge of flesh in between the two.
Apart
from the pain it engenders, another unfortunate aspect of an electric
shock can be to cause a brief paralysis rendering the victim
temporarily immobile. In Jordan’s case, he was only frozen to the
spot for a matter of seconds. However, this was just long enough to
allow a second pulse of the fire like current to shoot into the
delicate rosebud pink sphincter muscles still embracing the wire, and
sending Jordan leaping into the air with a shriek of unmitigated
agony.
It
may be true that in an empty forest there is nobody to hear you
scream, but Jordan’s cry was loud enough to send a rookery of crows
in the trees above flying squawking into the air, and a herd of wild
deer in the forest bolted in terror to the deeper thickets.
Now
free of the horrid fence, Jordan stumbled around, bent almost double
and clutching his behind, his mind focused on nothing bit the pain
throbbing in his most private ad sensitive of regions.
Given
that the power with in the fence was designed to discourage farm
animals, but not to actually brand them, it was not enough to cause
scaring burns or a lasting injury. However, as the part of Jordan’s
anatomy which had come into contact with the electric fence was
especially tender, he had suffered a degree of scorching which caused
severe pain and would leave him in a level of embarrassing discomfort
for quite a while.
As
Jordan stood still, holding his posterior and engrossed in the pain
and misery of his situation, he hardly noticed the rumbling sound
behind him, which he assumed was thunder and that his streak of bad
luck was about to result in him being soaked by a storm.

However,
Jordan’s bad luck was in fact considerably worse even than he though.
The rumbling sound was not caused by a gathering thunder storm, but
by the approach of the of the very beast which the electric fence
was there to contain. An angry young bull, which was, at that moment
charging towards Jordan with it’s head down.
By
a pure miracle, Jordan escaped being gored by centimetres, as the
bull’s horns went either side of him, however the granite hard bone
of the animal’s forehead hit Jordan’s bottom with a bruising impact
of a fast moving truck, sending the boy flying high into the air, and
over a nearby hedge.
Stunned
sore and winded, Jordan was launched like a missile launched from a
catapult and flew through the air for some considerable distance.
However,
as they say, what goes up, must eventually come down. There were
mixed blessing’s to the landing pad which nature had provided for
Jordan. 
It was soft enough to cushion his fall, but by no means pain
free, as he landed, bare bottom first into a patch of stinging
nettles.
For
the second time in mere moments, Jordan’s mortified screams echoed
through the forest, followed by a succession of whimpering cries as
the cruel leaves continued to inflict their tiny white, but stinging
and burning blisters, as the unlucky young jock struggled to his
feet.
Other
parts of him had been stung but all the pain seemed to radiate from
his his cute an well rounded. Once pearly white backside, now glowing
pink and reddening with punishment.
As
ever, the old Shaman’s curse, had but one target. Jordan had taunted
the old man with the words “Kiss my ass” and the elderly warlock
continued to do just that! In the space of less than five minutes,
Jordan’s vulnerable bare bottom had been scorched with electricity,
butted by a bull an comprehensively stung by nettles. The handsome
but unlucky young buck did not know it, but the Shaman was only just
warming up.
Hot
tears of pain and distress streaked Jordan’s still beautiful face, as
the one time proud jock stood in the forest, clutching his bottom and
crying like a baby.
It
was he guessed his overwrought imagination, but it seemed as if he
could hear laughter echoing echoing through the trees.
Jordan’s
predicament was getting more complicated by the hour, he may now be
safe from the bull, which was in the other side of the hedge, but it
was also between him and whatever lay beyond the fence. Be it a road
or a ranch, due to the angry snorting he could hear from the other
side of the hedge, there was no way he was brave enough to face it
and find out.
His
best option was to try and find a way through the forest. As he
reluctantly turned back towards the forest he realised that dusk was
starting to fall. His heart sunk even further, and not only at the
prospect of a night in the wilderness, but also as he knew his father
would be home any moment and would discover that Jordan had disobeyed
him and gone out instead of staying home and studying.
Disobedience
compounded by staying out all night meant that Mr Draper’s eldest boy
was in big trouble. As his Dad seemed to have only one answer to any
misbehaviour these days. Jordan was in no doubt that his Dad’s
slipper, a hairbrush or a paddle would be waiting for him and his
already very sore bottom when he got home.
Jordan
spent a long cold night naked in the forest and he got no sleep,
mainly because of the throbbing pain in his rear, but also because
he was keenly aware of movements in the dark woods around him, and
the eery feeling that he was not alone.
At
last it was dawn, and before moving on Jordan took time to bath
himself in a forest stream, finding some sensual relief in the cool
water as it refreshed his body and acted as a balm to his aching
limbs. Although he had no access to a mirror, he was aware to his
amazement that his bottom’s amazing powers of recovery were once
again in evidence. All the bruising and redness had vanished over
night and his cute little tush was again as smooth and white as a
baby’s, just as it had been before the unfortunate incident with the
fence, bull and nettles.
Jordan
could not understand how his bottom could recover from so much
punishment in a few hours, but it was a relief that it did.
Other
matters soon distracted him from the improvement to his bottom, for a
start he was feeling very hungry, and due to his failed to learn
anything in the short period before he was expelled from the Boy
Scouts of America, he had no idea what in the woods was safe to eat.
It
was imperative that he found food and clothes. So he set off in the
direction he hoped would lead to the road.
He
had walked for about two hours, and, as the sun was now quite high in
the sky, he guessed it was now mid morning, but there was still no
sign of the road. Then he spotted an object in the distance, which
he thought might possibly be a house.
As
he got closer he could see that he was correct, it was a building.
In fact there were a small cluster of buildings, which he from what
he could make out was a small ranch house and a couple of barns. A
ranch meant there could be a rancher and maybe a rancher’s wife,
hopefully a kindly country couple, which he might previously have
dismissed as Hillbillies, who might give him food, lend him clothing,
and help him to get home.
It
would be deeply embarrassing and humiliating, to turn up at the
ranch, stark naked and begging for help, but he had no other option.
For
a brief moment Cindy’s Mae’s mocking comment about the film
“Deliverance” echoed in his mind, but he quickly dismissed that.
He hurried on towards the farm, and reassuringly could not hear the
sound of a banjo … at least not yet.
TO
BE CONTINUED
Posted on

The Shaman’s Revenge Part 12

The
Shaman’s Revenge Part 12
Jordan’s
Wilderness Adventures (Prologue)
Briefly
leaving Crispin Cherrybutt to his Medieval mishaps at the hands of
the demonic monks, we now travel back to the present day and to
Jordan Draper’s Southern US home town where Jordan had just taken a
shower after a working out, and he was lying naked on the bed lithe
and perfectly formed young athlete’s body still damp and glistening.
He was sulking.
Even
though, for the first time in weeks, his bottom had stopped stinging,
he was in little doubt that this happy situation would not continue
for long. Ever since the damn incident with Martin Clifford and his
fairy boyfriend, and more especially since the damn ranger’s arrival
in town, spanking seemed to be the go to option for every adult male
Jordan encountered.
To
make matters worse, he appeared to be going through a very accident
prone phase, resulting in a series of mishaps all of which seemed
to, very literally, leave him with a pain in the backside.
His
Father was away on a business trip, but he was due back the following
day, and Jordan had little doubt the moment he accidentally infringed
some forgotten rule, he would be back over the paternal knee getting
his bare butt toasted! This should not be happening to a guy who was
due to turn 19 in just two months, and he was very tempted to leave
home, except that he would lose his allowance, not to mention his
credit card.
His
handsome good looks notwithstanding, it would not be so easy to pick
up chicks without a credit card.
One
bonus was that he no longer had to visit the Doctor for for those
god-damn injections in the butt. He had no idea what the doctor put
in his fucking needles, but his ass always hurt more after a visit to
the clinic.
It
was also weeks since he had been laid, and the lack of sex was deeply
frustrating and left him with an ache in the balls, which Jacking off
did not relieve.
As
he was gloomily contemplating his misfortune , the phone beside his
bed began to ring, guessing the call would be from his Dad,
announcing his imminent return he picked up the receiver and glumly
grunted “Yeah?”
“Hello
handsome, is that you?” 
The
sound of a familiar female voice instantly perked up Jordan, in a
manner similar to a male dog first smelling the scent of a bitch on
heat. He sat up straight and, with considerable effort responded in a
voice which sounded both cool and unconcerned “Uh … Cindy Mae, Hi
Babe … is that you?”
“Who
did you think it was, blue eyes? … one of your other girlfriends”
“Come
on Babe, you know you are the only one” he drawled casually “Does
this … uh … mean you’ve forgiven me?!”
“Course
I have sweet cheeks!” laughed Cindy May “I know what Megan is
like. You are just a red blooded man Handsome and she led you
astray!”
“Yeah,
Babe, she made me do it” shrugged Jordan, grinning to himself, he
should have known no girl could resist him for long “And ….uh …
the mouth thing, how is your … um … tooth!”
“Oh
that is fine Jordan” Cindy Mae laughed “The dentist put an
implant in, and it looks even better than the original.” she paused
“I know you didn’t mean to hit me.!”
“Oh
you know I didn’t Babe … I wound never hurt you!” Jordan quickly
agreed “You just pissed me off, bitching about …. uh …Mary ….
um Megan!”
Cindy
Mae changed the subject “You want to go up to Brown bear lake
tomorrow?”
“Why
do you want to go all the way up there?” Jordan was doubtful “It
is a long ride, why not go somewhere closer, like the Movies, or the
park!”
“Oh
we can take my car, not your bike!” insisted Cindy Mae “Please
handsome do it for me ….. I will make it worth it!” she giggled
meaningfully
Jordan
was now very interested “Like how?”
“Well
maybe I will give you that …’giggle’ .. blow job you keep asking
for!”
“WOW!
Really …. do you mean it Babe?!”
“Well,
the idea of gong up to the lake seems so romantic, it would be the
right place to do it!”
Jordan
had never been a man to stop when he though he was ahead “and how
about the other … thing?!”
Cindy
Mae was silent your a moment “…. you mean anal?” she asked
“Well, well see, it depends how good you are!”
“Oh
I’ll be good Babe!” cooed Jordan “You know I love you!”
After
agreeing a place and time to meet for their trip to the lake, Jordan
hung up. He had a fixed grin on his face, and was feeling
considerably more cheerful
———
Cindy
May arrived in her car at the time and she and Jordan had agreed.
Jordan walked over to the driver’s seat door “Shift over Babe!”
he commanded “I’m the man, I’ll drive!”
Cindy
Mae did as she was ordered and smiled coquettishly”My man!” she
murmured
Jordan
beamed with the innate satisfaction of confirming his manliness and
superiority.
“I
love the new hair style Sweetie” Cindy Mae Chirruped “It makes
you look really handsome and preppy!”
“Yeah
… like .. wee, I just felt like a change Babe” he muttered
“Quiffs are for Dweebs!” there was no way he was going to tell
Cindy Mae that his Dad had banned him from buying hair gel, because
the damn Ranger has said that “Young bucks who look like hoodlums
are gonna’ behave like Hoodlums!”
———-
Brown
Bear Lake was high in the mountains many miles from town, and the
drive took over two hours, even at the speed at which Jordan drove.
He only received his licence four months before but was proudly
intent of showing his woman the he was in control.
Also,
he wanted to get back before his Dad got home, and found out he
wasn’t studying as he was suppose to. Disobedience tended to lead to
spankings in the Draper household these days. Something else, he had
no intention of telling the chick!
Even
so, he slightly regretted insisting on driving, as it hindered his
ability to grope Cindy Mae. He was now keen to get to their
destination, and thereafter to first base.
When
they finally arrived at the lake, Jordan was pleased to note that
they were completely alone with no prying eyes which might inhibit
what he and Cindy got up to. However, to his annoyance, Cindy no
longer seemed to be in the mood for romance.
When
she removed his eager hand from her breast with a terse “not now!”
he moaned sulkily “Aww Sugar I’m, real horny …. and … um …
I need to show how much I love you!”
“Be
patient Jordan Honey!” she grinned “all in good time, but first
lets go skinny dipping!”
“Shucks
do we have to?” grumbled Jordan, he usually loved swimming, as it
was something he did well, but right now he was in the mood for
something very different than swimming, a fact which was evidenced by
the stiffening body part pressing against the inner zip of his
jeans.
“Please
Handsome!” she cooed fluttering her long lashes “It’s my fantasy
to swim naked with you first, … as an hors d’oeuvre …. before we
make love on the bank after.” she tilted her head girlishly “If
you love me, you’ll indulge my little fantasy, won’t you Sweet
Cheeks!”
The
promise of making love on the bank after was enough to convince
Jordan to go along with the dumb broad’s fantasy, he knew females
often had weird ideas, and sometimes a dude had to play along in
order to get what he wanted. So he quickly began removing his
clothes, while Cindy Mae stood watching him.
“Come
on Babe!” he said, noticing she had not begun to disrobe.
“You
go first Honey!” she replied “and check it’s not too cold …..
after all you are so much stronger and braver than me, and such a
good swimmer …. er …” she pointed to the boxer shorts he was
still wearing “Those too” she giggled “I said I wanted to go
skinny dipping!”
“Okay!”
muttered Jordan reluctantly removing his last vestige of clothing,
and letting the boxers fall round his ankles “But you better make
it worth my while!” he frowned “you’re not fooling with me are
you Sugar?” 
 
“OF
course I am not fooling with you Jordan, I promise you will get what
you have been asking for!” she grinned, letting her eyes travel
slowly up and down his naked body “Ohhhh!” she simpered “you’re
so handsome … and such a big boy …” she said looking down at
his still partially erect penis “that huge thing of yours is going
make little old me me a really scream!!” 
 
Nobody
had ever told Jordan he had a large dick before, and the compliment
made him glow with smug delight.
“Why
not impress me even more with one of your incredible dives Big Boy!”
said Cindy Mae with a sweet smile “The lake is deep at this point,
so you could safely dive off that high part of the bank over there!”
she giggled again “It would be so hot to watch you! .. that would
sure get me in the mood”
As
a typical jock, Jordan loved showing off his sporting prowess,
especially to such an appreciative audience as hot chick Cindy. So he
did not need asking a second time, and sprinted naked up the bank to
the high point she had indicated. Now totally nude he stood on the
top of the bank and looked back at Cindy Mae, who waved to him
encouragingly “Oh my word!” she cried excitedly “Your butt
looks so hot like that! Now I remember why I call you Sweet Cheeks!” 
 
Suddenly
Jordan’s cute bare bottom, was again the subject of attention, and
that made him feel uncomfortable, especially after recent events.
Although, it was hot for a chick to admire his dick, it seemed weird
to have a woman objectify his bare butt. He quickly attempted to
change the subject.
“Now
watch this Sugar Babe! … prepare to be amazed!” he shouted back
to her, as her stepped forward, held his arms in the air, and stood
on tiptoe before launching himself into the air.
Jordan
performed a perfect dive, throwing himself forward in a smooth,
curved, motion out into the deeper water, which he entered with
hardly a splash or ripple, and dived deep in the dark cool water,
committing a series of underwater somersaults as he did so. For the
first time in weeks he felt like his old confident self, refreshed
and invigorated, he was dong what he did best and was able to show
off. On top of that, he was about to get all the pussy he could want
from the hottest piece of ass in the county … and maybe some ass
too!.
His
underwater gymnastics complete he surfaced like a beautiful sea otter
coming up for air, and turned his head towards the bank expecting to
see a highly impressed (and, with any luck aroused) Cindy Mae
standing there applauding him. However, to his surprise she was not
where she had been standing. He glanced around and caught sight of
her running up the beach in the direction of her car, carrying his
clothes which she had apparently scooped up.
What
on earth was she doing, where was she taking his clothes? and why was
she not watching his brilliant dive?
Confused
and increasingly angry Jordan waded ashore and ran after the fleeing
girl. However, Cindy Mae had a good head start, and by the time a
wet and naked Jordan reached the car, both she and his clothes were
inside, and she had locked the doors.
Cindy
Mae then wound down the window just enough to give her a small gap to
shout through. “You really are a dumb jerk Jordan Draper” she
snarled, her voice dripping with mocking contempt “Did you really
think I would let you near me after the way you treated me?” she
laughed, her usually pretty face now ugly and contorted with malice
“Then you are even stupider than I thought! I would rather gargle
with gasoline than put my mouth anywhere near your tiny dick!!” she
curled her lips into a sneer “And as for anal …. Ha! …. Well
now it’s your ass that’s on the line!”
“Come
on Sugar, don’t play games … be reasonable!” wailed a now very
unhappy Jordan
“I
ain’t playing games Dick for Brains!” replied Cindy Mae with a
smirk! “Enjoy the walk home, it’s only 72 miles!” She grinned
“And I suggest you stay away from the woods, you’ve seen
“Deliverance” haven’t you Handsome ? And you would make a real
cute squealing piggy for a Hill-billy mountain man to play with !”
“Fuck
you bitch!” yelled a now very angry and slightly frightened Jordan,
banging his fist on the roof of the car “Let me in or I will break
your fucking neck!”
“No
chance Looser!” replied Cindy Mae “You are walking home bare
assed! It’s less than you deserve, but Hey, I’m a nice person!” her
voice turned serious “And you better not come near me, I spoke to
the ranger guy who lives across the street from you, told him how
violent you are! He said, if you lay a finger on me, he’ll make sure
you don’t sit down for a month!”
Jordan
was stunned, he should have known the Ranger was behind this. 
 
Before
he could reply, Cindy Mae turned on the car ignition, and after
blowing him a final sarcastic air kiss. Jordan frantically grabbed
hold of the door handle in a desperate to open the door, but to no
avail. The hottest pussy in town put her foot on the gas, and drove
off speedily down the lane, leaving a horrified, humiliated and
sexually frustrated Jordan staring after her.
As
Jordan watched the car disappear into the distance the fully enormity
of his predicament began to dawn on him. He was alone, naked and
there was 72 miles of wilderness between him and his home.
Jordan’s
Wilderness adventures had just begun, and by the time he got home,
one especially tender part of his anatomy would be very sore indeed. Which was only what he deserved.
The
Shamen’s curse continued to ensure that Jordan got exactly what he
deserved, and he would get it where it would do the most good.

TO BE CONTINUED …

Posted on

The Singeing of Crispin Cherrybutt (Part Four – pt 2)

The
Singeing of Crispin Cherrybutt 
(Part Four – pt 2)
Ignoring
the handsome older knight, Tybalt’s, anxious warnings Crispin had
continued to curse and threaten the monks, now, too late, he realised
what a mistake he had made. He had disregarded his new friends plea
for him to stop, and now he would pay a painful price.
A
group of the monks took hold of Crispin and unshackled him from the
alter, and then dragged him from the room, leaving a sad eyed Tybalt
still kneeling, strapped to the table, in a most undignified manner,
with the remnants of the fire root phallus still protruding from his
rear.
The
grinning monks, half dragged and half carried the struggling and
protesting Crispin down seemingly endless corridors, before they
reached an open courtyard at the back of the great building.
Having
become accustomed to the gloom inside the monastery, Crispin blinked
in the sunlight as he took in his new surroundings. In the middle of
the courtyard were a number of dome like objects, made from platted
wicker. Crispin did not recognise the structures, but as he was
dragged closer to them he could hear the buzzing of bees. Earlier he
had not understood Tybalt’s warning “They will take you to the
hives!” but now his fellow captives words echoed ominously in his
head.
The
monks then roughly held him down as they tied ropes around his legs,
just below his knees, and then attached them tightly to his wrists.
When
he was fully secured they began tugging on the ropes, which were
looped over a large wooden pole protruding from the side of the
building, and quickly hoisted Crispin up with his legs in the air,
with his lower body and bottom dangling below, now mere inckes from
the wicker hives.
Then
the older Monk began to chant in a high, almost “sing-song”
voice, while another monk handed him a colourful glazed ceramic jug.
The first monk then produced a small wooden batten from his cassock,
and began stirring the contents of the jug. When he took it out it
was coated with golden honey.
He
then used the wooden batten to smear the honey all the cheeks of
Crispin’s bottom until it glistened gold in the sunlight.
Crispn
was outraged, yet confused at this latest humiliation, why on Earth
would they cover his backside with fresh honey?!! Whatever their
plan, he knew he would not enjoy it.
“Ha!
Sir Knight!” chuckled the Monk “Now you have a golden arse!!”
his comment eliciting cruel laughter from the other monks “Shall we
see what out little friends think of it?” he asked before taking
hold of a paddle which one of the younger monks had brought with
them, and proceeded to hit the sides of the hives.
Instantly
a large swarm of angrily buzzing bees cam streaming out of the tiny
entrance, like a furious black cloud.
The
monks retreated to a safe distance to watch the entertainment, as the
bees become immediately attracted by the sweet honey and began
swarming round Crispin’s dangling bottom.
To
his increasing horror, Crispin now realised the purpose of the honey
“NO PLEASE!!” he cried “UNTIE ME … PLEASE!!!”
The
sadistic monks just laughed and clapped their hands with delight.
The monks were enjoying the spectacle, and as Tybalt was still
shackled to the central altar with a fire root dildo up his bum,
nobody was going to come to Crispin’s aid.
Crispin
cried out in terror as the first bee landed on his his honey coated
rump, at fist of just crawled over the surface feeding on the honey,
but then, alarmed by Crispin’s horrified shiver reacted by
instinctively stinging Crispin’s already highly sensitive butt cheek
.
Seconds
later a second bee landed, and then a third, and a fourth. Each
arrival followed the same pattern, with Crispin receiving repeated
painful stings in what had become the most tender part of his body.
“Our
little friends will teach you a lesson in respect young gallant!”
called the older monk, as the others cheered their approval.
Realising
that sudden movements were disturbing the bees and making them sting
him, Crispin tried with all his resolve to stay still, but it proved
impossible. His instinctive repulsion at having insects crawling on
him combined with the fact that he was dangling uncomfortably in the
air, caused him to shake and tremble involuntarily, and each quiver
was greeted with a sharp sting from a startled bee.
Over
the following hours Crispin would be sting a hundred and more times
by visiting bees, attracted by the sweet and glistening honey.
Meanwhile the monks eventually returned to their ungodly devotions,
leaving Crispin dangling above the hives, and surrounded by buzzing
bees.
Later,
as night fell, there was no respite for the unlucky young knight,
for, although many bees returned to their hives as the daylight
faded, they were replaced by other stinging insects which were
similarly attracted by the remaining honey still covering Crispin’s
cute, but very sore bottom.
As
Crispin hung there through the long and uncomfortable Knight, he
wondered with dread what other catastrophes and humiliations lay
ahead on his ill starred adventure!
It
would not be long before he found out!! 
_________________

Note: Sorry for repeating a
punishment previously inflicted on Boy in the Sting of the Jungle,
but it was requested, and I felt that Crispin deserved it!!
 
.
Posted on

The Singeing of Crispin Cherrybutt (Part Four – pt 1)

The
Singeing of Crispin Cherrybutt
(Part Four – pt 1)
As
his eyes began to become accustomed to the dark, Crispin finally
began to be able to see who else
was sharing the dungeon with him. He could make out a handsome
muscular man, about eight or ten years older than himself, with a
face which was vaguely familiar. At first he struggled to recall
where he knew the man from.
Then
he remembered “Gallant Sir Tybalt!” he gasped, “Is it really
you?”
The
older man, raised his head, as if surprised “It is a long time
since I have heard my name spoken” he replied, “but, yes, it is
I!” his voice, was strong and deep, with the cadence of noble
birth, melding incongruously with the slight hesitance of one who
has not shared a conversation in quite some time.
“I
recall, when you left to fight the dragon!” blurted Crispin, “I
was just a child then, I was with the crowd cheering you as you rode
from the city, and I recall how inspired I was by your bravery!” he
paused as he remembered, “When you did not return people feared
the dragon had …… cooked you with his fiery breath, and eaten
you!”
Tybalt
sighed “Ah!” he said “I would have suffered less if it had
eaten me!” he looked at Crispin with an expression of sorrowed
compassion “As I fear you will soon suffer also!”
“W…what
do you mean?” asked Crispin, the quiver in his vice betraying any
attempt at appearing stoic and brave!”
“These
man who pose as monks are in fact the Hellish creatures of an evil
Lord!” replied “This is no Holy order, they long ago lost their
faith and are now a dangerous cult, who worship a fearsome demon who
rules over the pit of torment!” he shuddered “They demonstrate
their devotion to the beast by inflicting the torments of Tartarus on
their captives ….. me ….. us!”
Crispin’s
mouth fell open in unconcealed shock, stunned by what he was hearing,
and increasingly nervous of what might lie in store for him!
“Why
have you not escaped?” he asked
“Believe
me, I have tried!” replied Tybalt, “But the monks keep me closely
guarded!” he paused and glanced around, as if checking they were
not overheard, before he continued in a hushed voice “You must keep
this secret!” he whispered “I am digging a tunnel, it is hidden
behind that boulder in the corner, but it is taking a long time, as
the stone is so hard. Perhaps now there are two of us, we will make
more progress!”
Before
Crispin could respond and express his eager willingness to join
Tybalt in digging his escape tunnel, the great wooden door to the
dungeon was flung open by a group of monks who entered, grabbing hold
of the two handsome knights and dragging them up the stairs.
Crispin
attempted to struggle free, but the monk’s were unexpectedly strong
and had superior numbers, so they held him firm. Meanwhile Tybalt,
perhaps weakened and disheartened by his years as a prisoner, seemed
resigned to his fate, and put up little resistance.
The
monks carried and dragged the protesting Crispin and the sad faces
but silent Tybalt into a large chamber with two drape covered altar
in the middle, on to which the two young men were forced to crawl,
before their wrists and ankles were tightly shackled with leather and
chains.
Tybalt
gave Crispin a doleful look, his voice quivered with compassion and
resignation “Be brave my friend!” he said “Your suffering will
be great, but it will end eventually”
Crispin
was not feeling at all brave, and his composure was not improved by
the older man’s ominous words.
Then
the situation got considerably worse, as one of the younger monks
stepped forward carrying a tray on which were two huge and erect
penises, both seemingly carved from what the wide eyed and fearful
Crispin instantly recognised as the dreaded fire root.
It
was only hours since his last encounter with this fearsome root, and
his anus was still painfully smarting, he prayed to whatever god was
listening that the huge objects before him would not be used for a
similar purpose. Sadly, it seemed that the only god listening was
the monstrous demon to whom the monks paid homage, and the miserable
expression in Tybalt’s handsome brown eyes, told Crispin that his
worst fears were about to be fulfilled.
Two
of the monks took hold of the carved phalluses, the younger of the
two flinching slightly as the scalding juices burnt his fingers. Then
each walked to the end of an altar, whilst chanting in an archaic
tongue.
Once
they stood behind each man they lifted the fire root penises up
before roughly inserting the first six inches of the intricately
carved objects into into the rectums of the two unhappy knights,
leaving a further four or so inches and the large scrotum shaped
appendage sticking out. 
 
With
the stoicism gained from long exposure to such outrages Tybalt merely
moaned slightly, however, the raw young Crispin for whom this was
agonisingly new yell, screamed and cried out obscenities as the
burning juices of the fire root soaked into his his most intimate and
tender areas.
Two
further monks, who’s presence, until that moment, had gone relatively
unnoticed by the handsome knights, and who were holding large wooden
paddle like objects, easily mistakable for ancient flatbread or pizza
shovels, also stepped forward.
The
two monks then brought down the wooden paddles, which they had been
holding high like flags, until they were inches from the base of the
fire root phalluses protruding from the knights behinds. Then they
swung them back and then forward hitting the base of the vegetable
scrotum with a loud whack, and forcing a further centime of the shaft
into the tight orifice.
Tybult
gasped and Crispin literally squealed with pain and shock as the huge
object was squeezed further inside him.
The
monks continued to whack their paddles against the replica organs as
if they were knocking a peg into a hole with a mallet.
The
force of the blows first split the phalluses, and then then began to
crush the large scrotum bulge at the end, sending sprays of scalding
fire root sap across the two knights. handsome and exposed buttocks.
Soon the carved stiffies had all but vanished, the main part having
been forced inside the unlucky victims, and the rest crushed in to
acid like liquid. Yet, still the Monk’s continued to paddle the
knights with their fire root soaked paddles, escalating the impact of
each blow with impact of the old dragon’s fiery breath.
Unable
to tolerate the pain Crispin began to shout, cursing and threatening
the monks with what he would do to them when he was free.
“Take
care my friend!” urged Tybalt in alarm “take care lest the friars
punish you more severely” he attempted to whisper to the younger
man “they will take you to the hives, and, believe me Dear friend,
you never want to be taken to the hives!!
However,
Crispin ignored his compatriot’s warning and continued to snarl,
curse and should threats at the monks. Too late he realised the
danger he was placing himself in.
The
oldest monk, who appeared to be the leader, approached the alters a
cruel smile on his ugly and twisted lips, he took hold of a clump of
Crispin’s hair in his fist, lifted the young knight’s head up and
looked into his face.
“Well,
well, you impudent young pup! He scoffed “You have not learned your
lesson yet!” he grinned in a way that sent a shiver down Crispin’s
back “You need serious chastisement my boy” the old monk growled
unkindly “and our little friends are well equipped for that!”
___________
TO
BE CONTINUED
I
hope to post more of part four on Tuesday

.
Posted on

The Singeing of Chrispin Cherrybutt Part three (continued)

 
The
Singeing of Chrispin Cherrybutt

Part three
(2 of 2 ) – Our naughty Knight gets the bare bottom spanking he
deserves
Crispin
attempted to struggle free from the large Monk’s grip , but soon realised that beneath his
adversary’s all covering brown robe was a body of considerable
strength and steel like muscles, which even his fit young body could
not resist.
To
make matters worse, a second monk, who also proved to be a powerfully
built individual arrived and assisted the first on restraining the
helpless but struggling Crispin.
Together
they dragged the unhappy and protesting young knight over to a bench,
sat down and pulled their handsome captive over their knees.
While
the newly arrived monk, held Crispin’s legs, the senior monk pulled
up the youth’s black gown until the whole of his lower body, from his
firm, slim waist down was exposed. The monk looked down at the bottom
he had so recently, and lovingly anointed with healing oils and
chuckled “Well well my young valiant” he said “That pretty rump
of yours will soon burn worse that it did when you first arrived!”
“No
please good friar!” wailed Crispin “Please have mercy on me!”
“There
shall be no mercy or forgiveness for a sinner here!” snapped the
monk “you will be chastised as you deserve to be!” he paused “and
as penance for your pride and arrogance your punishment will be
appropriately enhanced ….. Brother Samuel, bring forth the fire
root!”
A
third monk appeared carrying a silver platter, upon with there was a
strange looking peeled vegetable root, and gingerly lifted a carrot
shaped segment between his thumb ad forefinger as he approached the
trio.
“Fire
root …?” stammered Crispin nervously
“The
fire root comes from the land of monsoons and smoking mountains to
the south, it earned it’s name because when it’s juices touch your
skin, it burns like the great lord’s hottest furnaces!” replied the
speaking monk. “as you will soon discover …!”
“Great
lord? …. furnaces?” gasped Crispin “who are you ….. what is
this order?”
“Insert
the root Brother!” said the monk, interrupting and ignoring
Crispin’s question “You will be anxious to be rid of it for it must
be burning your fingers!”

The
third monk stepped forward, and swiftly forced the segment of peeled
root he was holding between the raised cheeks of Crispin’s exposed
bottom, and up into his tight anus, which as an automatic protective
instinct, gripped tightly round it. As soon as the plug of fire root
touched his skin Crispin understood why it was so called, as a
burning sensation almost as intense as the dragon’s fiery breath
spread from the puckering pink portal lips of his rectum, to deep
with inside him. Tears brimmed in the young knights watering eyes and
he he cried out in genuine pain
The
monk’s laugh had a clear note of cruel delight to it, at the sound of
Crispin’s scream “the fire root will ensure that even your most
hidden and intimate parts will feel the force of your well deserved
punishment!”
With
that the laughing monk raised his large leathery and well calloused
hand high into the air and an d brought it down with a loud SMACK! On
Crispins, still sore and tender, recently scorched bottom. The first
smack was followed by a second, third, fourth and more, while the
second monk grasped his legs, and the third, having laid down his
silver platter joined his fellows and held Crispin’s head and scolders firmly in
place.
Crisip
had not been spanked over a knee since he he was a an infant, hence
this punishment was as humiliating to the proud young knight as it
was painful, and it was certainly extremely painful. 

 
His torment was
made worse by the fact he could not help tensing his anal muscles in
anticipation of each smack, which had the unfortunate effect of
crushing the feague of fire root gripped by the tender pink bud of
his anus and causing still more of the scalding Juice across the rim
of that most sensitive and vulnerable of orifices.

Crispin’s
burning rectum was now a ring of fire nestling between the two
stinging red orbs of his buttocks. 
 
The
monks took turns in punishing Crispin, who they had soon stripped
naked, as his cries and the repeated slapping of their hands on his
red and well fired behind.
Finally
the stopped but still held the struggling and weeping young knight
captive in their grasp. The older monk looked into Crispin’s tear
stained face, “We are not finished with you yet my young valiant!”
he grinned “You are now our prisoner and we will do with you as we
will!”
“Please!”
cried Crispin “You have punished me enough! Now set me free!!”
“Hah!”
laughed the Monk “there will be no freedom for you Sir knight, you
you will provide us with much entertainment and diversion in the
coming days and weeks!”
The
monks then dragged the miserable Crispin Cherrybutt down to the
catacombs beneath the monastery. 
 

When they reached a small door in
the wall, they opened it and pushed Crispin through sending him
tumbling bottom first down a flight of stone stairs, his well
spanked, scorched and fire root figged bottom hitting each step as he
bounced down, before landing with a THUD! On the hard dungeon floor.
As he landed he heard the door slamming behind him followed by the
sound of metal bolts slamming into place. He was now the monks’
prisoner.
As
Crispin lay on the floor his hands grasping hie well spanked and fire
root scorched behind, a sense of deep fear and desolated seeped
through him, as he wondered what entertainments and diversions the
brothers had in store for him, and what sort of devilish sect had he
stumbled upon.
Then
a voice spoke to him from the darkness “Who are you Sir Knight?”
it spoke with an unmistakably noble tone “Are you a prisoner too?
Have the Gods at last blessed me with a companion in this hellish
ordeal?”
In
mounting fear Crispin scoured inky blackness of the cell and could
just make out a dark shame in the corner. The shape moved, and he
knew he was not alone ……..
TO
BE CONTINUED
Posted on

The Singeing of Chrispin Cherrybutt (Part 3)

The
Singeing of Chrispin Cherrybutt
Part three (1 of 2)
– Crispin meets the Brothers
When
he first viewed the huge building, looking out of the darkness,
Chrispin had imagined he had come across a castle, however, as he
moved closer, he realised that it more closely resembled a religious
building , although the absence of any religious symbolism seemed
initially puzzling. He approached the large and heavy wooden door,
and felt a sense of foreboding which he attempted to dismiss by
reminding himself that he was a brave knight, who had only recently
fought a dragon, his mind proud mind quickly seeking to draw a veil
over his humiliating defeat, at the hands, or more aptly, the fiery
breath of that beast.
He
knocked on the door, and heard the rattle of his own knuckles on the
ancient timber echoing in the corridors within.
After
what seemed like an age, the door was opened by a cowled monk, who
silently gestured him to enter, and then follow him down a long dark
passageway, although he was a little unnerved by the monk’s mute
demeanour, his options were somewhat limited, and, as he kept
reminding himself he was a brave knight, for whom there was nothing
to fear in the dark chambers beyond.
The
then came upon two further monks, who stepped forward to greet him.
Although like the first monk, one of these two also remained silent,
a third, who appeared to the more senior, did speak, a deep gravelly
voice growling from within his face concealing cowel. “What brings
you to our door Sir Knight?” he asked “Very few travellers come
to this lonely place.”
“I
have travelled far, Good friar!” replied Crispin “I came on a
quest to slay a dragon!”
“The
dreadful fire breathing beast, which has been terrorising the land
these last decades?” asked the gravel voiced monk
Crispin
frowned, at the mention of the dragon’s fiery breath, and nodded.
Although, he was anxious to regale the monks with tales of his daring
do, the burning main in his rump was a more pressing priority,
especially as holy men, such as these, were often in possession of
balms and ointments, which might relieve his discomfort. “Sadly I
have suffered an injury.” he said “And I hope you could be of
assistance!”
Despite
his embarrassment at the location of his “injury” he turned and
showed his scorched bottom to the monks. The two, previously silent
Monks, murmured sympathetically, whilst the friar with the deep voice
first sucked air through his teeth before saying gently “My my, Sir
Knight, that must be giving you some distress, but fear not, we have
many remedies for burns and scalds sch as those, we will have that
handsome young rump of yours back to it’s painless white purity in no
time!”
Crispin
sighed with relief, that was the good news he was hoping for. “I
will be forever grateful to you good friars, if you can ease my
pain!” he said.
The
monks lead him into an inner chamber with a very elaborate but
somewhat Byzantine looking altar and a number of disturbing wall
paintings. Chrispin again, briefly pondered the lack of familiar
religious symbolism, but concluded that the gentle brothers must
belong to a sect with which he was not acquainted.
The
monks, assisted the young knight in removing his heavy armour, and
when he was naked asked him to lay, on is stomach, on a high table in
front of the strange altar.
The
speaking monk, looked down at Crispin’s rosy upturned bottom, and, as
if unable to resist temptation, raised his hand and gave Crispin’s
sore bottom a gentle slap. “That does look sore Sir Knight!” he
said
“OWCH!”
snapped Crispin, looking angrily over hios shoulder.
“I
do apologise Sir Knight!” came the reply, Crispin could not see the
monk’s face, but an intuition told him that deep under the folds of
his hood, the man was grinning.
That
fleeting thought vanished, as a second monk appeared carrying as
container of musk scented oil, and allowed a few drops to fall onto
Crispin’s bottom. The gravel voiced monk then proceeded to massage
the oil into the red and scorched skin. At first Crispin gasped at
the pain caused by the older man’s hands on his tender skin. 

 Then
slowly, as the monk continued to rub the oil into his flesh, he could
feel the burning sensation gradually fading. He realised that the
pain he had been living with for many hours was fading.
“What
is that wondrous balm?” he asked, the relief palpable in his voice
“This
oil is much prized for its mystical healing qualities and and
efficacy as a pain reliever Brother Samuel brought it back from his
travels in the northern lands, where it is greatly valued.” replied
the friar as he continued to almost lovingly massage the oil into
Crispin.
Later
that evening, one of the silent monks, ushered Crispin to a small bed
chamber off one of the passage way, where first he fed him with newly
baked bread, washed down with a flask of blood red wine. 
Then the
monk bathed the handsome young knight gently washing away the dust
and sweat from his long arduous journey and the residue of the oil
left from the earlier treatment.
Although
Crispin was not inclined to enjoy the touch of another mail, he
tolerated it for the relief it brought. When the Monk gently washed
his behind, it was not the agony it would have been an hour before.
The young knight’s bottom still stung and tingled, but it was no
longer the searing pain the dragon had left him with.
Finally,
the kindly monk, anointed the young Knight’s body with cologne, and
gently dressed him in the clean black robes of a postulate, before
bowing out and leaving him to sleep in the newly prepared bed.
However,
sleep was the last thing that Crispin intended to do. As he had bed
led through the passage ways earlier, Crispin had chanced to glance
into a number of the chambers as they had passed, and he had seen the
monastery’s glistening treasure. Golden bowls and ceremonial
goblets, gold and silver candle holders and incense burner’s
encrusted with gem stones.
Such
items would bring him wealth if sold, or melted down upon his return
to his home town, and that was exactly what Crispin planned. He might
not retun with the fame of a dragon killer but he would have the
compensation of being a rich man.
The
generous monks might have taken him in, treated his wounds, fed,
washed and clothed him, and given him a bed for the knight. However,
he felt no sense of gratitude to them, they owned the treasure he
lusted for, and he intended take it from them.
The
monk had spoken of the brothers travelling to far away lands, so, he
concluded, the monastery must have a stable, from which he could
steal a horse and escape with his booty, before the monks knew it had
gone.
In
the middle of the night Crispin slipped out of the tiny bedchamber
where the gentle monk had left him, and crept through the dark
passage way, carrying a sack he had fashioned from his blanket. He
did not have to search for long before he reached a room he had spied
earlier, and could the precious items glimmering in a beam of
moonlight shining through a small window.
The
young knight hurried about his work, grabbing at the gold items laid
out on a large wooden altar, and stuffing them into his rudimentary
sack. 

One particular item was a large golden goblet, which he held
up in the moonlight to get a better view. It was a magnificent object
of pure gold, with the stem encrusted with precious gem stones, which
had been lovingly crafted by some artisan goldsmith possessed of
incredible talent.
However
the greedy young knight did not see the beauty or artistry in the
object he held, he only saw it’s monetary value, and the wealth it
would bring to him when the gold was melted down and the glittering
stones sold on for jewellery.
“My
My, You are a naughty young rascal are you not Sir knight!” a
familiar deep voice boomed from the darkness behind him. Crispin was
briefly frozen by shock, he dropped the goblet, as a muscular,
sackcloth covered arm encircled his waist, and a large calloused hand
gripped the black cotton of his gown lifting it up to reveal the
knight’s long bare legs and, still pink, and tender buttocks. 

Then
before Chrispin could react the monk’s free hand descended with
considerable force onto that same vulnerable bottom, causing our
flawed but handsome hero to cry out in pain.
“Now
we will show you what happens to naughty young knights who try to rob
the poor!” boomed the angry friar, with a tone in his voice which
made very clear, Crispin would not enjoy what happened next.
TO
BE CONTINUED
More
of Singeing Crispin Cherrybutt will be posted tomorrow
Posted on

The New Gizmo

The New Gizmo
Another
Spanking machine idea
If
anyone feels inspired to suggest a caption, or even a storyline to
accompany this picture, please add it to the “Comment’s” section
below ..