Dungeons and Dragons

"You know I could have you sword whipped...again...for this."

"Yes, Sire, you could, but I did deliver that blackguard Sir Roland to you just last week."

"So you think that because you did an expected deed that I should overlook this, let's say, unexpected one?"

"Well Sire, I think I should get a bit of leniency, they were, after all, just peasant girls."

The King looked down upon the kneeling figure of his most accomplished knight, Sir Chad, short for Chadwick, son of the Earl of Chadwick, and one of the most unpredictable cavaliers of his court. The young man was in the flower of his youth, lean, strong, a short, dark beard framing a very handsome face, capped with a similar coal black helmet of close-cropped hair and a tunic and leggings that clung to his muscular, yet lithe body, like a tight gauntlet. His codpiece was nothing short of huge, so no real surprise to the king that the women of the kingdom, and some of the men, chased after him. The King found a peculiar pleasure in disciplining Sir Chad, which happened often, but also in rewarding him, which happened just as frequently.

"Their father's have begged me for justice. What were you thinking when you bedded the three of them?"

"First of all, Sir," the knight looked up with a smile, slipping into the more familiar address for his liege, "they seduced ME, I was deep in my cups at the tavern when they, as a group, led me to the stable behind the inn."

"Oh, and I am sure you put up a memorable fight against the abduction!" the King roared with laughter. "Sir Gawain," he bellowed, "Ten strokes!".

"Yes Sire," replied a huge knight who had been standing on the other side of the throne room and now moved forward saying, "Come with me Chad."

"Oh bother, this is going to hurt," Chad thought as he rose, bowed to the King and then followed Sir Gawain out of the chamber and off to the dungeon.

Gawain was twice Chad's size and what Chad possessed in lean, sinewy skill Gawain had in brute strength and hulking size. Unlike Chad, he was a knight of few words.

When they arrived at the dungeon, Sir Cadwell looked up from his desk. Cadwell was the king's dungeon master and nothing took place there without his supervision.

"Again Chad?" he asked with mock surprise.

"I am afraid so," the young knight said dejectedly, handing his sword and belt to the master and pulling off his boots, tunic and leggings.

"Assume the position, supplicant!" Gawain ordered and Chad leaned against the wall, the whiteness of his tight bare buttocks practically luminescent in the flickering torchlight.

"You will count," Gawain ordered as he swung his scabbarded sword up and back.

"Yes, Sir" replied Chad as the first stroke came down across his bare arse.

"Yeow!" he screeched and then quickly added, "ONE SIR!".

Failure to count only brought more strokes and he was determined to keep the total to what the King had sentenced. After seven strokes Chad's firm butt was on fire, red and glowing from Gawain's assault.

"Do you think I could give him a few?" Sir Cadwell asked bemusedly.

"Sure, why not?" said Gawain, handing the sword to the older knight, "It is a bit tiring."

Chad was relieved slightly at the change of tormentors as it gave him a moments respite and he doubted old Cadwell could swing as meanly as Gawain anyway.

"I think you should try to get a bit more upswing, Gawain," the older knight said instructively, "like this!" and with that he swung the sword in an upward arc, catching Chads ripe buttocks at the crease where they met his thighs. This had the effect of lifting the man up onto his toes.

"Gawd! EIGHT, SIR!" Chad yelled through clenched teeth.

Gawain nodded approvingly and then a voice from behind them made the two knights straighten to positions of attention, Chad being too absorbed with his pain to recognize the fact that the King had entered the chamber.

"How goes the discipline, good knights?" he asked cheerfully, addressing Gawain and Cadwell and smiling approvingly at the bright redness of Sir Chad's backside.

"He's had eight, Sire, and the last one brought him to his toes!"

Sir Cadwell beamed, "let me show you," and he swung again with an upward arc, again catching Chad at the base of his rump. Now he rose again to the tips of his toes and yelled "NINE, SIR!"

"Might...I...try, gentlemen?" the king asked, almost hesitatingly, but clearly pleased with Cadwells technique.

"Yes, of course Sire," Cadwell and Gawain said in unison, Cadwell bowing slightly as he handed Gawains sword to his liege.

"Now let's see," the king murmured,  inspecting Chad's leaning form against the dungeon wall. "I think I want him a bit more, shall we say, exposed?"

Chad did not know what to think of that and all he wanted was to have it over with. He knew he would not be sitting for dinner that evening as it was and he was going to need quite a bit of mead to get past the pain in his bottom.

"Your stool, Sir Cadwell," and the king nodded towards the desk.

"Yes Sire, a good idea," the older knight said as he quickly set his stool into the center of the room.

"Over here, Sir Chad," the king ordered, "put your hands on the edge of this stool."

Chad did as he was told, bending over and grabbing the edge of the seat. The young knight was exactly eighteen hands and as the stool was quite low to the floor, his butt was now well above his head.

The king took position and then slid the point of the sheathed sword between Chad's legs, tapping his ankles.

"Spread your legs, boy," the king commanded.

As Chad obeyed the king whistled, "My goodness, Sir Knight, it is easy to see why the wenches chase after you. Your bollocks and cock are as impressive as your codpiece!"

Chads face turned as flushed as his butt as the king and his two knights looked approvingly at how well equipped he was below the belt.

"Now let's see, Cadwell, we're looking for an arcing swing, right?"

"Yes Sire, aim for his thighs."

That was the wrong thing to say to the king for he reared back, bringing a direct blow across Chad's thighs, missing his buttocks completely and producing a loud thudding sound, throwing the young man to the floor over the stool, rolling in pain.

"Wow, that's going to leave a bruise," Gawain muttered, now feeling sorry for Chad and helping him shakily to his feet.

"Oh," the king exclaimed, "I see what I did wrong, I'd like another if I could."

"That was ten Sire," Gawain stated.

"...but he didn't count," Cadwell interjected helpfully, "so he earned another."

Chads face turned white as he looked towards the king.

"Well," the king said, "given the circumstance I'd say he's paid his penance..." Chad gave a deep sigh of relief and reached for his leggings, "But...," the king continued, "I really would like one more go. Would you oblige me, Sir Chad?"

Chad looked at Gawain and Cadwell for support, but they conveniently were looking anywhere but in his direction and he knew he was going to be getting another.

"Very well, Sire, how can I refuse my liege?" he said, gritting his teeth and again assuming the position over the stool.

"Don't worry boy, this will be a true one."

By now Chad was not only sore and bruised, but quite tired from his ordeal and this caused him to be less than poised correctly over the stool and he had his knees bent. The king reared back and this time did indeed produce an arcing swing aimed neatly at Sir Chad's buttokal crease. What none of the men noticed in the dim light was Chad's heavy ballocks sticking out from the cleft between his buttocks.

The king's stroke rang true, raising Chad up onto his toes but also slapping his exposed balls sharply.

This time he let out a high pitched shriek, again falling over the stool, but now doubled up and clutching his abused cods.

"Wow, I wasn't expecting THAT," Gawain mumbled again, this time at a loss as to whether or not he should assist Chad up.

"Probably best to give him a minute," the huge knight thought to himself.

"Very good, gentlemen," the king commented, handing Sir Gawain his sword. Sir Cadwell was just staring at Chad, still squirming on the dungeon floor, moaning and gasping with retching sounds, his hands between his legs.

"Sir Chad," the king addressed his prostrate knight, "come to my throne room after you dress and compose yourself, I have a quest for you," and then left, smiling.