From: klaus@diku.dk (Klaus Ole Kristiansen)
Newsgroups: alt._s_e_x_.spanking
Subject: REPOST: In Days of Yore, story M/M (F/M)
Date: 3 Oct 1995 10:14:11 GMT
Organization: Department of Computer Science, U of Copenhagen
NNTP-Posting-Host: odin.diku.dk
X-Newsreader: NN version 6.5.0 #13

It is now about a year since I forst posted these stories, so maybe some our newer readers would like to see them.

WARNING: this is porn. It deals with spanking and _f_u_c_k_ing. If that offends you, don't read.

This is pure fantasy

IN DAYS OF YORE

To the last, the young prince had thought that the newly formed Emergency Council would reject this highly unconventional project for raising money to pay the debts of the exchequer. But such was the charisma of the ruler, such was the faith in their leader, that the proposal had been accepted. Thus the prince now found himself in a most unaccustomed position. After a pampered childhood, he had had power thrust upon him at an early age. Now, after ruling his principality with almost absolute power for four years, he was displayed in stocks in a square in the capital like a common criminal. No, worse, a criminal would be standing, while he was kneeling on a high bench, making his butt his highest body part. A criminal would be fully dressed, he was naked. His legs were spread so that everything was in clear view. Worse, he was put up for sale like a whore! However, this humiliation was now less important than a much simpler feeling: pain. He was willing to swear that his butt hurt worse now, when no-one was touching it, than it had at the first impact of the paddle.

The next commoner in line stayed back in humble deference. One of the great dignitaries of the realm had arrived, and was climbing the stairs of the platform with part of his entourage. "Welcome, your grace," the chancellor said. "Thank you, my lord."

TWACK

"Ooooooo!"

The strap had surprised him. They were supposed to pay before starting! He could not see the stairs leading to the platform, but anyone called "your grace" had to be someone very important, someone who could not be bothered with such details.

TWACK TWACK TWACK TWACK

"Owwww! Mercy, your grace, please, mercy!"

The count turned to the chancellor:

"Can we use a meat gag, my lord?"

"Of course, your grace."

Mentioning the extra charge would be tantamount to calling the count a niggard. He would pay the bill.

"Anthony," the count said to one of his aides, "put your _d_i_c_k_ in the catamite's mouth."

"Er ... yes, your grace. Uhm ... thank you, your grace."

A boy in his late teens approached the prince's head, took out his _d_i_c_k_, and put it in his mouth.

"You know what will happen if you bite!"

The chancellor was supposed to tell him all the gruesome details, but he had long since stopped doing that. Five times was enough.

The prince had recognised the voice. The count of Kainveldt, possibly the richest man in the country. Most nobles had servants punish servants. A few even had an especially trusted retainer punish family members. This count was rumored to insist on personally dealing out all punishments to his underlings when he was present. The way he wielded that strap, the prince could well believe it.

TWACK TWACK TWACK TWACK TWACK

"Mblgg!" the prince said. His protest drowned in the cheers of the crowd. He felt very unfairly treated. So far a _d_i_c_k_ in either end, humiliating as it was, had meant a pause in the spanking. Now he was getting _d_i_c_k_ and strap at the same time!

TWACK TWACK TWACK TWACK TWACK TWACK TWACK

The boy came quickly, he left the shrinking gag in place. The spanking seemed to go on for ever.

TWACK TWACK TWACK TWACK TWACK TWACK TWACK TWACK TWACK TWACK TWACK TWACK TWACK TWACK

At long last the count put down the strap, and the youth hid the limp gag inside his breeches. One of the count's retainers turned to the clerk, who said:

"31 blows of two marks each, that's seven dollars six marks plus one insertion of two and a half dollars, that's ten dollars two marks total."

"Make that two insertions," the count said, taking out his own _d_i_c_k_.

While his retainer paid up and the crowd cheered, he buggered the prince. Once again, an attendant picked up the wooden baton standing in a jar of linseed oil, forced it brutally into the prince's ass, twisted it round, pulled it out, and replaced it in the jar.

When his grace had left, a peasant stepped up, paid two marks to the clerk, and swung the long, heavy paddle at the scarlet bottom.

SMACK

The prince jumped as much as the stocks allowed. Another peasant stepped up. The chancellor marvelled at these people. What passion they must feel! Thirteen dollars less two marks was a trifle to the count, but for these peasants, two marks was a substantial sum. Even the wealthier tenant farmers would rarely use a whole mark on personal pleasures in one day. The exceptions, mostly gamblers, didn't stay wealthy long. A prostitute would be lucky to get half a mark for her services. Yet a long line of commoners were waiting to pay two marks for giving the prince one smack. Some even paid for two.

One offered double then triple payment to be allowed to use the dog-whip he had brought along. He was refused, he must use the strap or the paddle provided by the officials. Even though this interlude ended with three hard whacks from the paddle, the prince was glad. The argument had given him a much needed rest.

A man who looked like he could never have come by two marks honestly stepped up. Part of the crowd, all in similar attire, cheered loudly. While the clerk counted the heap of small coins he had placed on the table, the man addressed the crowd:

"I represent the dock workers. We piled our money and held a strapping competition. I won!"

Loud cheers from his fellow workers.

"Two dollars two marks, nine blows," the clerk announced.

The crowd found no reason to doubt that this man was the strapping champion of the docks. The prince was entirely convinced.

There were many women in the crowd, but few in the line. One had now come to the front, but she was held back. A wealthy merchant had bypassed the line, and had waited impatiently for the dock worker to get done. He paid the clerk two and a half dollars, then he took out his his _d_i_c_k_ and rammed it up the prince's ass. The prince howled, the crowd cheered. The chancellor was looking at the sun, only a narrow fringe of the disk was visible above the roof of the Council Chambers. The merchant came, pulled out and went away. As he endured the pain of the oiled baton drilling into his ass again, the prince had to remind himself that this was actually a kindness. His back entrance was extremely sore from being _f_u_c_k_ed far, far too many times today, but it would have been infinitely worse had it not been kept well oiled.

The woman now stepped up, a matron from the city. She placed a half-dollar on the table, and picked up the paddle.

"Now you'll get what's good for you, dear."

SMACK SMACK Her hands were small enough that she could get a two-handed grip on the paddle. Her arms were obviously accustomed to hard physical labor.

The tiniest sliver of the sun was still visible. A mountain of a man stepped up. He stood seven feet tall, though some of this was boots, and was heavily muscled. He was dressed like a man of modest means, and he had waited patiently in line, but he placed some very substantial coins on the table. He picked up the paddle and put those bulging muscles to good use. Ten times a resounding SMACK!! echoed among the buildings of the square. He put down the paddle. The chancellor looked at the roof once more. The sun was gone. The man had picked up the strap, and was treating the prince to it. Then he took out his _d_i_c_k_. He did not turn to face the prince first, he seemed to want the crowd to see it, as if he was proud of his monster _d_i_c_k_. Even compared to his huge frame, it seemed almost unnaturally large. The prince did not understand why the crowd cheered so until the monster assaulted his tender hole. He _f_u_c_k_ed him long and hard. All good things must come to an end. Eventually he came and pulled out his impressive member. The chancellor addressed the crowd:

"The sun has set, it is over."

Sporadic grumbles from the line, which was still long, were drowned by the giant:

"You indulgence, my lord chancellor. I have not got what I paid for."

The chancellor looked at the clerk.

"The goodman paid eight dollars, and has so far used up seven and a half, leaving half a dollar."

The giant ended a memorable day with two bone-jarring blows from the paddle.

The attendants opened the stocks, put shoes on the prince's feet, and stood him up. The chancellor himself covered him with a blanket. The clerk locked the money chest, it was carried away under guard. Other guards cleared a way to the waiting carriage. The chancellor led the prince to the carriage. He sat, the prince knelt before him. The carriage started moving. Still kneeling, he embraced the chancellor, who hugged him back.

"A great success, you highness," the chancellor said ironically. "We had not expected so many customers."

"We'll charge more next time."

"Next time!?" The chancellor was aghast. "You are not planning to do this again?"

"Oh yes, my love," he whispered in his ear. "This will be an annual event."

THE END

What do you think of this fantasy fantasy? What do you think of the two versions? Which one is best?