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