This short story is an entry in the 2001 Soc.Sexuality.Spanking Summer Short Story Contest and is copyright by the author and commercial use is prohibited without permission. Personal/private copies are permitted only if complete including the copyright notice. The author would appreciate your comments
Category: First
A Knight and His Lass
By
Andrew Smith <captain_andy_101@hotmail.com>
He was a dark and stormy Knight. When he first came into town all the girls paused to wonder who could be under that steel mask. I watched. That's what I do, I'm a watcher. Voyeur if you wish. The black stallion he rode in on was a might beast. Shaggy around the fetlocks long on mail and tail. His squire on a smaller version yet equally beautiful bit of horse flesh. The boy climbed down from the saddle after his master did, then taking the rain of the both horses he scurried off in the direction of the villages stables. With slowly clanking foot steps the knight mounted the stairs of the tavern. I waited or a long ten count, then followed. Damn. He was most of the way up the back stairs. To the rooms, he was staying a while. The boy returned and was pointed up the stairs. I waited for most of an hour, until the scullery maid began to carry hot bath water up to the rooms.
No one in town could afford a bath. Again I waited. Creeping up the stars to the largest room.
The door was locked but that meant nothing to me. A bit of oil for the hinges and lock, then two scraps of wire and the door silently slid open. With a pounding heart I took a single step into the room. This giant beast of a man frightened me, his mighty sword was nearly as long as I was tall.
A splash and a giggle. A girlish giggle. Had one of the scullery maids stayed behind? I took an other step. The ornate brass tube was in the sent of the room. The curry tow headed squire was in it. I could just see the top of his head. He started to rise, I made ready to run but found my self spell bound. The squire was no boy. He or she rather slid out of the heated water. Her slim body glistening. I watched. She was no girl child, but a woman albeit a young woman.
She giggles again. "Is thy sword belt limbered?" She asked with a coy smile.
"We shall see." Heavy booted footsteps sounded from the corner. The man, just as large and imposing without his black plate armor came into my view. The woman bent over, her hands gripping the side of the tub. My mouth was dry. The knight squeezed each of her cheeks. Then with a whistling crack his sword belt bit into her delicate flesh, drawing a groan from her lips. Was it of pain or pleaser? Was there a real difference? Again the belt flew through the air. Her beautiful buttocks, twin hemispheres of heavenly delight now sported two appallingly bright red strips. A third and a fourth.
With arms like coils of steel he picked her up and carried her out of my vision. I had never seen such a sight. Neither before nor after.
Cap'n Andy
The End
© Copyright Summer, 2001
This is not to be read by minors or anyone were doing so is against the law. Yes, work posted to Usenet is owned by the writer. I give the SSC reviewers, and judges full use of the story, to archive or re-post as they see fit. No one else can.
Reviews
John Benson <johnb(at)ssec(dot)wisc(dot)edu>
This was kind of fun, but I would be surprised if it were historically plausable.
Knights didn't travel around in plate much. Too heavy. It was rather quickly supplanted by chain, as ironworking techniques improved. The knights were landed gentry, and usually stayed home on their holdings except in times of war, when they would be part of armies, or times of huge dislocations, when they very well might be out homeless and foraging, and totally up to no good.
Nor is it terribly likely that a female companion would have to disguise herself as a page. The Church teachings were one thing, but common practice was often a bit looser than that, and it may not have been so unlikely that she might be tolerated as his prisonner, his servant, or his slave. Depending on the time and place, of course.
Jodi <ladiejj(at)webtv(dot)net>
This story is written in first person. The Author gives the reader a lot of details through the eyes of the narrator. It gives you the impression that this was the first spanking the narrator had seen and that is confirmed in the last line. This is a Good use of the first line, the Author does a good job in proving to the reader that the Knight truly is dark and stormy. This story has some lovely images.