Posts

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 ..
Posted on

Notice to visitors

It
is an unfortunate fact that our society appears to be entering an age
where, despite the popular narrative, puritanism and calls for
censorship are again on the rise. We are seeing an increasing
resistance to both Free Speech and free expression, which will not
only impact on people who say and do things we don’t like, but also
on those things which we want to say and do, which other people do
not like.
There
is a growing belief within society that anything which might give
offence must be eliminated, even when it is hidden behind content
warnings.
In
such an environment, sites like this, which cater to tastes which a
lot of people might find offensive are increasingly at risk. It is
beginning to appear that the most imminent threat is fading, however,
realistically, the threat will never go away.
In
the circumstance I am actively exploring alternative locations which
may be less vulnerable to the pressure for censorship than Blogger,
however, in the meantime, I intend to carry on as normal, and hope to
make a further posting at the weekend.
That
said, in case the worst does come to pass, would readers please
bookmark the address of the new JockSpank site at
http://jock-spank.com/ where you
can find information about Sore Bottomed Guys should this blog
suddenly disappear.
Posted on

Important Notice

Please note that as a part of the harrassment campaign against the JockSpank blog, this Blog has also now been reported to Blogger for a possible terms of use violation.
Should anything happen to this blog and an announcement will be made at  
http://jock-spank.com/

For further information, please see the posting on the JockSpank blog here: https://jockspank.blogspot.com/2019/03/this-blog.html

NOTE

The harrassment and threats are continuing, the latest threat against the blog was received August 1st 2019 

Update
A further implied threat of “Revenge” can be seen in the Comments beneath the posting on August 18 2019

Posted on

The Shaman’s Revenge – Part 11

Bobby
O’Rourke was doing his daily training, as a conscientious youth he
trained for at least two hours every day, whatever the weather.
Coach had told him that if he continued training he could be entered
for the state championships, after which the possibilities were
endless for a dedicated and ambitious young athlete like Bobby.
Bobby was determined to succeed, to represent his state and maybe
even his country, and make his family proud in the process.
Bobby’s
family were already proud of him, for it was not only at athletics
that he excelled, he had studied hard in class and had earned a
scholarship to the college, where hw was proving himself to be a star
pupil in many ways. It was widely believed that Bobby had a bight
future ahead of him.
Bobby
has already run for over ten miles when he reached a road junction
leading to Main Street. It was there that he noticed old Mrs Rush
with her walking cane, nervously hovering on the edge of the street,
apparently awaiting an opportunity to cross. 
 Bobby knew the elderly
lady, who was an acquaintance of his grandmother’s, had poor eyesight
so he rushed to her side, and after taking care not to alarm her, he
reassuringly took hold of her arm and kindly assisted her crossing,
whilst at the same time signalling to oncoming traffic to be patient
whilst Mrs Rush made her unsteady crossing.
Once
they were safely on the other side of the road, Bobby waved away the
old lady’s words of gratitude, wished her good day and continued on
his way .
It
was safe to say that, in Bobby O’Rourke you could not wish to find a
nineteen year old athlete who was less like Jordan Draper, except,
of course, in one regard, Like Jordan, Bobby was a very handsome
young man. (He would not have earned his place in Sore Bottomed Guys
were he not)
Remembering
he had to study for an examination, Bobby turned off the street and
cut through an alleyway behind some apartment buildings just in time
to hear the distant sound of breaking glass.
As
he ran down the alleyway, Bobby noticed two young boys running
towards him. He look little notice of them, until, as they passed
him, one of the boys tossed the soccer ball he was carrying towards
him and called out as he ran past “Here buddy!” he said “Look
after this”.
Taken
by surprise, Bobby instinctively caught the ball as it flew towards.
Bemused, he stopped running, and still holding the ball, turned to
watch the boys disappearing into the distance.
It
was then that a loud voice with a distinct East European accent rang
out behind him “I haff warmed you brats one hundred times not to
play your silly football games here!”
 
Bobby
turned to see an elderly gentleman with a bright red face glowering
at him furiously. “I beg your pardon Sir ….?!” he said
“You
haff not my pardon you damn American vandal!” roared the old
man “You haff broke my window with your silly ball ……I haff
warned you what would happen” the elderly man was shaking with
fury as he spoke “You vill pay for this brat! And you vill not
like it!”
Click on the READ MORE tab below to continue:

“Excuse
me Sir!” replied Bobby trying as hard as he could to calm the old
man. “You are mistaken, I did not break any windows, I have only
just arrived…..!”
“Do
not lie to me you vandal!” the old man snarled “You think
I am a stupid old man, your guilt is before my eyes, you are holding
the silly ball in your hands! How dare you lie to me, you vil pay
twice …. ten fold, you vill pay for that!!”
Bobby
looked down and saw that he was still holding the ball which the
young boy had tossed to him “b…but …I..” he stammered
attempting to explain
“GO!!”
exploded the elderly and furious man “Get out of here, or you
will pay even more dearly!”
Trained
to obey his elders and anxious not to upset the elderly gentleman,
who appeared close to a seizure, even more than he already was, Bobby
did as he was told, he put down the ball and looked at the old man
“Goodbye Sir!” he said “I hope you get your window fix….!”
“GO!”
snarled Goran, for it was he “Get out of here are you vill pay
even more than you already vill, your little brat bottom vill pay!!”
Bobby
obeyed instantly, and ran off down the down the alley way, the old
man’s words still echoing in his head.
Bobby
was still thinking about the elderly gentleman’s threats to his
“little brat bottom” as he turned into the park, as a further
detour on his way home, until his attention was was caught by the a
plaintive meowing sound from above him. He looked up and saw a
kitten sitting on the branch of a tree he was passing. The poor
creature had obviously climbed up the tree, but was now stuck and
unable to get down.
Among
Bobby’s many admirable qualities, he was an animal lover, and it was
not in his nature to leave a helpless creature in distress.
“Don’t
worry little Buddy!!” he called “I will come and get you!”
Without
a further thought, Bobby climbed up onto the first branch which was a
few feet below the kitten and began clambering along that branch in
order to get to a place where he could reach the kitten. 
 
It
was then that he heard a loud ripping noise, he looked back over
shoulder and saw, to his immense annoyance, that his tight running
shorts had snagged on a small branch a,d the whole of the seat had
been ripped away, exposing his bare white bottom to the world.
“Fu
… Drat!” murmured Bobby stifling a cuss”how am I supposed to
get home like this?” he was the aware of an even more perplexing
problem, for some reason he could not move from the position he was
I. He could move his arms and kick his legs, but it was as if his
firm muscular young stomach was glued to the branch. This was all
very weird!
A
loud buzzing sound announced a most unwelcome arrival in the form of
a the biggest hornet Bobby had ever seem, which was heading straight
towards his exposed and upturned bottom like some form precision
guided missile. The hornet landed squarely in the centre of Bobby’s
vulnerable rump, its thin gripping legs on either side of the cleft
between the cheeks, jabbed it’s stinger into the tender and tightly
sloping flesh between the magnificent pearly white globes of his his
19 year old behind, and ejected a sting of truly agonizing strength,
sending a pure white hot bolt of pain deep into Bobby’s rear.
Bobby
let out an agonized howl of pain which echoed round the empty park
and again just managed to stifle back the worse swear word he knew.
Why on earth had a dumb insect done that? 
 
He
look back and to his mounting horror, saw a second hornet buzzing
towards their chosen target, seemingly with the same intention as its
earlier comrade. Bobby struggled frantically, but still he could not
move from the branch or escape.
“No!”
he yelled “Help me …. Please help!!”
+++
Bobby’s
cries for help, though ear piercing, were not loud enough to reach
the Draper home, but even if they had they would have been downed out
by the loud whacks and yelps of pain which were flooding out onto the
street. It the middle of the room, Me Draper was swinging his shiny
new wooden paddle, and gift he had received from his new friend and
neighbour Caleb Tartarus, the Ranger, and bringing it down with
repeated loud WHACKS! On Jordan’s now very red bottom, as his naked
son bent over in front of him.
Seated
comfortably on the sofa, was Ranger Tartarus, a grin of satisfaction
on his face. Having dragged the reluctant Jordan back from the
hospital, and informed his father of the boy’s exploits, he was sure
that Mr Draper’s new paddle would be seeing a lot of action over the
next few weeks and months.
Things
were working out just as the were supposed to.
Later
that day, Tartarus took a stroll round the Town, he was just
beginning to enjoy his visit there, and certainly did not want to
leave just yet. It had been a very long time since he he had been
called back from that deep are fiery place where had been dwelling,
to carry out the wishes of those who had summons him, and he had
almost forgotten how much fun it was.
As
he reached Capsaicin College, he made his way though a narrow gap by
the changing room, and the sight that met him served to re-enforce is
wish to stay in town.
Taylor
Hunter was another member of the swimming team, and although not as
accomplished a swimmer as Jordan, was not less physically appealing.
Another trait which the handsome Taylor share with Jordan was that
his attractive appearance did not reflect his personality, at that
was significantly less appealing. At that moment Taylor was in the
act of leaving a strikingly unfriendly, and some might say somewhat
hateful message for the team coach, Thor Amundsen.
As
it was, again, such a hot day, Taylor was wearing nothing except a
pair of skimpy yellow cotton shorts, which clung most enticingly to
to curves on the lad’s bubble cheeked bottom. Tartarus’s eyes
travelled down Taylor’s back, and rested on the seat of those thin
cotton short. His lips curled into a cruel grin. “Yes” he
murmured to himself, I think I will stay around for a while longer!” 
 .
The Shaman had conjured up dark forces to carry out his revenge, but as
others have found before him, once they are called, the powers
unleashed create ripples which have a wider impact than just on their
intended target.
The
Shaman’s Revenge is not going away.