This short researched account is set in the ancient Languedoc region of 13th century France, where the romantic and chivalric 'Courts of Love' flourished at this time. Though we have little inkling of the sexual mores of medieval France, what can be garnered from the extant poems and testimonies of the travelling players and Troubadours suggests that it was a period of sexual liberty, freedom and licence.
With this theme in mind, I have imaginatively played upon some of its scenarios in an erotic form. You'll find language here both flowery at times of ribald humour. And in this fantasy story I have further embroidered upon what we do know of the medieval Court page with a basic premise much allowing the imagination a free run.
In the high middle ages of thirteenth century France, when the land was enchanted and pretty from the Loire to the Languedoc, when ribboned pennants flew from splendid Romanesque châteaux perched high upon cragged precipices, and when handsome seigneurs, counts and feudal lords ruled its vast fiefdoms, there abounded in these places, high courtly love and romance, and courtly young erotic licence.
Every medieval court in Europe engaged boy Pages between the ages of ten to perhaps fifteen and trained them for service. The page had a variety of court duties, and were the personal attendants of the high officials, most particularly the seigneur of the castle, château, or demesne, and were key figures in the smooth running of the domestic affairs of princely and ducal households. The page was an errand boy and messenger, he served at feasts, banquets, hunts and tournaments, and was even present on the battle field.
A boy accepted for induction as a court page, would continue his academic education, together with training for his role. In the medieval Languedoc he would be instructed in the French language of the region which was Occitan, and inculcated in the Cathar doctrine, widely prevalent in the region during this period. He would also be tutored in Latin, elementary mathematica and some philosophy, as well as 'courtly etiquette' and the duties of a page.
As a primary consideration, rather than an incidental one, a prospective page would be chosen for his appealing looks, attractive appearance and manner. It was common to find them slender, leggy, and rather pretty, and they were much looked upon as adornments of status, and a large household might have a complement of fifteen or twenty such Pages.
In the romantic medieval 'Courts of Love', music and verse were in high esteem and Pages were instructed in these arts too, and taught the lute or harp and to accompany it with voice, and dance. After academic lessons, came those of refinement and culture. As the page progressed into puberty he was tutored in the sexual arts: how he might fully express his sexuality with others., have his body enjoyed, and how to render sensual joy in a lover.
There were two designations of medieval page: page Ordinaire and page Corporeal, and the Corporeal was more engaged in intimate personal service to his lord, than was the Ordinaire. If the boy was selected for page Corporeal, his duties and education were extended. The noviceship for page Corporeal was a much sought after and highly coveted position, especially at the splendid courts of important seigneurs. However, only the most comely and attractive were selected. They were often indentured between the ages of eleven and twelve years old, and chosen primarily from the families of other high seigneurs and feudal lords.
Ideally, what the seigneur sought, was a pretty boy of light and fresh complexion, already experienced in the giving and receiving of pleasure, with some wanton forwardness about him. Naturally enough, many such Pages were pretty and effeminate little tarts, well aware of the delights of their young bodies, having perhaps already enjoyed a fulsome sexual licence at home, since puberty.
The attainment of any position as page at a splendid court, was much relished and neither the father, nor his son, would have viewed its sexual environment in any way an immoral arrangement, for in the context of the age it was not of any such consideration.
Boys accepted into these spectacular courts were aware of its circumstances and earnestly sought the role. For the young adolescent page around puberty, it was a life of unbridled sex with each other, interspersed with attending to their master's sensual whims and their more regular court duties.
Though Pages were not enslaved in this office, it was regarded as an honourable commitment, of which the boy's father was particularly aware. It was he who ventured him forth, in the knowledge of his son's attractive qualities, though his concern was not how effectively his pretty son might render his body, but how, by his pleasing ways and appearance, he might advance himself socially and politically.
After his thirteenth summer the page's appearance was checked regularly, and he was depilated as necessary whether engaged in close personal service or not. When serving food and wine at feasts and banquets, he was frequently felt up and for the guest to feel anything but smooth young flesh under the page's tunic, it was taken as an insult.
Fondling Pages was a common and expected practice in the Courts of Love, and a perquisite enjoyed by the lords and dignitaries as part of the proceedings of any festive occasion, feast or banquet. The typical page was a fetching youngster of about twelve or thirteen summers, slender, lithe and leggy, prettily attired and alluring of manner. He was often a precocious nymph too, flagrantly wanton in behaviour, and with the morals of a pansy dolly, well versed in lechery.
When he felt the fondling hands of a dignitary sliding over his thighs, bare bottom and crotch, it was good manners for the page to at least pause before moving on, though much depended on the status of the guest. The page received instruction and advice in how to behave in such situations, was never pressured, but quick to take note of what advantages his peers enjoyed as a result.
As the host, the seigneur oversaw everything, including the behaviour of his Pages, who he considered to be his emissaries at these functions. If a guest was unsure about the relative status of another guest, he only had to observe how the page attended him. This was a truer indicator of his social position than even the sumptuary of his garments.
With a minor official, the page might draw out his courtly attendance a little, briefly submitting to having his bottom stroked, then politely move on. With the more important, he dallied longer, perhaps facilitating his young stiff bare prick being and stroked or sampled through his hosiery, and for a hand to be slid under his crotch. See later about attire, but is was common to many Pages that they did not wear breeks above their hosiery and that therefore, under their tunics their bottoms were bare, as were their pudenda.
For the high-born, the powerful noble, or guest of honour, the young page abandoned all pretence and flaunted himself and lingered by the guest. While serving this dignitary the page might rub against him offering encouragement and pose like a coquette. As he poured the wine he facilitated himself being freely felt up and perhaps sat down upon a lap or two and was kissed and taken advantage of. Then turning he unfastened his hose and gave free access to his naked young cock. Indeed, the important lord expected no less and it was a great compliment to him when the page's cock tumesced in his fingers, if it wasn't stiff rigid. The page would sway and toss as he was masturbated and might be taken across the lord's lap and discreetly fucked from behind.. If the lord was attractive or presentable enough, the page might also voluntarily give him his mouth.
The page's climax and its approach as he romped and was brought off was to the cheers, calls and jolly laughter around of the fellow guests. Of course many dignitaries travelled with their own Pages, but if not, the seigneur would offer one of his own for bedding as dusk descended.
By his fifteenth summer, his physique, looks and voice were changing, and depilating too much a chore for the nurse. The page was then withdrawn from this inner high circle to other services and duties within his lord's domain, or to the estates of other feudal lords, and was no longer a page, for rarely did the seigneur want a page no longer in young adolescence. As they vacated, so they were replaced, and hand picked for their looks, from the households of other high dignitaries. Of those dispensed with, favoured ones rose to high office, or became knights, for there was now the possibility of ascending through the ranks, and this was a good avenue of social promotion, especially when his family were of only minor gentry.
Once a month a physician visited Château d'Autignac to check and examine all the Pages. The page stripped naked and was poked and prodded about and asked and answered questions about their health and well being. Most particularly he inspected their genitals and their behinds, and looked in their mouths. Did they suffer any pains; any discharges; did they properly lubricate, etc., etc., for the physician was well aware of their activities. Many of them frequently teased the physician though, by donning their night gowns after stripping and disported themselves most lewdly lasciviously with him. They bated him sexually most cruelly, amongst themselves with their antics and poses, knowing that he was prohibited from ravishing them; many wondered that he could anyway, with his greying hair. It was rare however that the page had any disagreeable ailments or complaints about his body or what he did with it, or had done to him.
As in every medieval court, all the Pages dressed in livery when engaged in formal duties. At Château d'Autignac, this consisted of a thin white, long sleeved, silk chemise with frilly cuffs and high frilled collar. Breeks were optional and many Pages who were continually sexually involved left them off. Over these, a buttoned, sleeveless velvet tunic was worn, flared from the waist, in frills terminating at the top of the thighs, patterned in lozengy check, alternating pale yellow and blue, and emblazoned back and front with the arms of the Count of Toulouse. In winter they could also wear a short dark grey cloak, down to mid thigh and emblazoned the same.
Footwear was black Morocco leather pointed toe slippers, with studded cross straps, and upon their heads they wore a jaunty black felt chapeau, tapered at the front with turned up edges, often adorned with little love tokens and trinkets. The Pages Corporeal were differentiated from the Ordinaires by a gold anklet chain worn on the left, and their chapeaux matched the blue of the tunic.
The hosiery of the page was made of fine black silk, or wool in winter, and was a waist high, one piece garment, held fastened by a silk ribbon under the chemise. This arrangement of hosiery was unusual during this period, in not being separate leg stockings attached by 'points' to underbreeks. A deep slanting frontwise fly was provided in the hosiery which ran from behind the scrotum to above the pubis, forming a triangular flap, held tied to one side, in a small bow. When unfastened, the flap would fall aside, exposing themselves, yet was hidden by the frilly flaring of the tunic.
In the way of the court style amongst these horny adolescent Pages, it was a polite observance to leave the fly unfastened if it obscured the genitals, when interested in sexual activity. They took much pleasure in raising their tunics to one another, and being oft erect, it was a signal that they wanted to, at least kiss and rub the other and dally from their duties.
In the evening, after official court duties were finished, around dusk, the Pages stripped themselves of their livery and donned their evening wear. This was a flouncy night gown of fine oriental white silk, which reached down to their ankles, and was otherwise of the same style as the chemise.
Château d'Autignac, is a fortified Romanesque castle perched high upon a jutting headland, some 250 feet above the strong flowing currents of the river Hérault, in the Languedoc of ancient France.. It is the domain of the now ailing Raymond, 51 year old Count of Toulouse.
Raymond has three offspring from his previous marriage, two are daughters married off, and then his son and heir who is Jocelyn, a comely stripling of 17 summers.
The year is 1204, and his court and garrison are now replete again, he having returned victorious from the 4th Crusade and the sacking of Constantinople. Raymond, like many of his compatriots, battling in the high heat and filth of Palestine has succumbed to injury and sickness. His leg was wounded and although seeming healed, still gives him trouble walking, and down below, his bowels ache when pissing, and his cock no longer lifts for a pretty face. His ailments show in his ravaged face, that only a year ago was so handsome and that a year hence would see his demise.
He has lately taken a new wife, 13 year old Madeleine before leaving the household to fight. She is sick with worry for him and herself, and she is so pretty. She is his second wife, his first having died of plague. They have an infant daughter of eighteen months, for Madeleine was but 11½ years old and enceinte of four months when they married.
Raymond's ailments have brought him low, but his morale was brought lower still, when finding upon his return, he has been cuckolded by a lad and Madeleine is now enceinte of eight months, from the cock of a page.
"How you have whored yourself in my absence," he said.
She replies in an insultingly taunting fashion:
"I was sorely tried, my Lord. Wet and glistening was his cock knob of 7 inches, with which he daily taunted me in my tremblings. For my sanity, I succumbed, my Lord."
Raymond eyed her with a wry smile.
"And you of course Madam are in the knowings, that if I now whip you and kill this stripling, my conjugal duty hereafter, which ought be hard risen and established, lies now barren as the dusts of Palestine."
"Sire, twas the 14 year old cock of Orvelle, my Lord."
"And as to love?"
"I may say neither yay, or not yay, m'lord, for I have been but his subsidiary for page Orvelle has also daily, and by night the hole of young Pascal he of 12 summers, rooted on his prong in, and out of chambers, M'Lord.
"Of course, maiden . They were deep in love e'en before I left. Is his prong toothsome, my lady, and do you not admire his virile versatility?"
"I feel not as a page, m'lord, for I am ignorant of the ways of boys. I was blind, m'lord, but my hole ached."
"You're both the focken same. Little pretty titty nipples, and an aching hole for cock – same as a page – simpering and mewling, fastened on it, then bouncing on the virile jake, wanting a proud belly to show their accomplished lovers." growled Raymond, in bitter anger. " He focked you out of frustration, my dear wife, get hence from my sight. "
"Sire, m' Lord."
With venom, Raymond spits out that there's little to tell apart between her and a page of the same age.
|Chateau d'Autignac Pages|
|Aurèle||12||4'11||Ordinaire||mid streaky blonde|
|Gabriel||12||5'0||Corporeal||wavy light auburn|
|Narcisse||12||5'0||Court Pet||wavy streaky corn blonde|
|Etienne||12½||5'0||Ordinaire||wavy golden brown|
|Francois||12½||5'1||Ordinaire||curly dark blonde|
|Valery||13||5'2||Corporeal||wavy pale blonde|
|Valentin||13½||5'2||Ordinaire||wavy dark blonde|
|Orvelle||14||5'4||Ordinaire||curly light auburn|
|Simòn||14||5'3||Ordinaire||dark streaky blonde|
Raymond's son and heir, Jocelyn is chivalrous and urbane by nature and of 17 summers. He has a fine handsome physique of princely stature, with lustrous waves of auburn hair cascading in ringlets about his neck and shoulder. But he is feckless and vain by character, ever mindful of his looks in fine raiments, with too much a liking for silks and satins of the latest styles. He takes no interest in the feudal affairs of state, nor in the governance of the Toulouse domains his family hold. Raymond thinks his son a useless and conceited dandy. And Jocelyn is a horny one too, but sniffs at damsel maidens, preferring the charms of pretty adolescent Pageboys, to which he is very partial. A dandy and a gay one. He likes his hands on their pert rounded bottoms, and many of them drool over him too, and are not just eager to please for place. In his father's absence Jocelyn has enjoyed many a page, and lazily stayed in bed half the day, listening to their silly chatter or filling their heads with equally silly nonsense. There is a particular one though that he has become much taken with; his name is Narcisse.
In looks and behaviour, Narcisse is much like a damsel, an exquisitely pretty pansy boy. His complexion is flawless, with cobalt blue eyes, below the perfect arches of a brow curving to a small cute, turned up nose. His features are set in a small, gently contouring face, whose fine set cheekbones gracefully taper round a small cute chin, set below a fulsome, pale ruby and pouty mouth.
In the Narbonne court of his childhood home, Narcisse had spent many happy hours in the company of other boys, peers his age and those a little older. Some were pretty, some were plain, yet all were cute and comely in different ways. They played boy games with each other, and the 12 and 13 year olds would be free to indulge their horny adolescent ways. Their jakes out of their hosiery, barely hidden under their tunics, they rubbed together while kissing, or were sucked, or made out with the younger ones treating them as though they were damsels. As their horniness mounted, pairs would find a comfortable place or pallet and fuck for the afternoon in the other's pert inviting holes. Narcisse increasingly liked being a damsel boy, and by the time he was 10½ summers, he was enjoying stiff adolescent jake in his hole, every day.
Whenever talk was bandied around, about Narcisse's future, however, he daydreamed about becoming a page, surrounded by other boys like himself. Approaching 11 summers, and a submissive, sissy little pansy, he is enrolled at Château d'Autignac, and soon becomes its court darling, jaked in every page's bed. He falls in love with the life, its intrigues and romances. They tell him he is exquisite, which he conceitedly knows, and is enthralled to be referred to as a princess.
Jocelyn quickly becomes enamoured of Narcisse, but the darling, now of 12 summers has already given his heart to another. Jocelyn's rival. Jocelyn's rival is Simòn, a stripling page of 14 summers, whom Narcisse professes his love for. He now gives himself to Jocelyn only because he is the Seigneur's son. Yet doubts have lately begun to cross his heart and mind, as to which lad he really prefers. Both satisfy his hole and are careful and loving with their pricks and Jocelyn can be so amusing, and is not rudely demanding. Simon is sometimes quite rough with him, but he knows Narcisse likes that on occasion. However, Narcisse can tell Jocelyn's love for him is very sincere.
In the Great Hall of the château, Jocelyn is presently engaged with him. Jocelyn, naked, is seated comfortably in on a chair and has Narcisse across his lap. The boy is dressed in a in a fine white silk gown and Jocelyn has him arranged contrariwise so as to impale him on his tall stiff cock. His gown flutters, and his long blonde hair, catching the streaming sunlight from a mullioned window, shimmers like illuminated gold as he is being bounced fucked this way. They fuck daily and yet Narcisse is still unsure of where his true heart lies. Jocelyn feels his nethersap rising and squeezes Narcisse as he thrusts up him.
"Narcisse, do you or don't you, love Jocelyn?" asks Aurèle his best friend.
"Noo... I mean... I don't know. Oh Aurèle," cried out Narcisse, with his knuckles to his mouth.
"Stop being silly. We're sick and tired of this now. Its gone on for months. You're like some silly idiot. Are you married to Simòn in secret?" jested Aurèle, squeaking as his voice rose with emotion. He waved his hand at him again, with a frowning grin
"What is he going to say. What will he do?"
"When you're only Jocelyn's darling, whiling away your idle, naked hours in his satin bed – nothing.
Besides, your dizzy head will be leagues afar from thoughts of him. Simòn can do nothing to you.
"It's you, you're a naughty little pussy, too pretty to feel honoured. Seventeen year old cock, 6¾ inches of it, on the body of so gorgeous a god, and you're dallying about like an old sourquim that's never been focked yet"
"Simòn cares about me though. He looks after me."
"Yes, and do we not all know that. But you know who you want to be in love with, I think, don't you."
"Mmm... oh Aurèle, he takes all sense from my head, e'en from his scent I quiver, but Simòn is my champion. Oh Aurèle, I am lost."
Getting his breath back as he wiped his fingers on his bare thigh. He rolled off him, laughing in shaking giggles. Aurèle made other comments and started tickling.
"You're soaked in spunky nethersap," said Aurèle, eventually making him shriek in hysterics. Then Narcisse accidentally rolled off the bed pallet, which started Aurèle screeching in abandon.
In a little while he calmed down and lying flat on his back with a knee drawn up, he lewdly toyed with himself, gazing into nowhere. Aurèle, propped on an elbow, gazed down at him, still tittering and every time their eyes met he convulsed again, shaking in giggles, now with his gown drawn up passed his nipples so that they were skin to skin with one another.
"Get up please, idiot child," said Aurèle. He did so and leapt on him again, and they deep kissed.
Then suddenly looking up, he eyed Florent who lay on his pallet and he swished over to him.
"Don't bother Jocelyn, he is mine," said Florent, indignantly.
"What? " exclaimed Narcisse in surprise
"You do not need to bother Jocelyn now," repeated Florent.
"What's the matter with him, Aurèle," he said, calling over to him. Florent looked from one to the other. Aurèle took Narcisse's waist from behind and pulled him to him and spoke into his ear.
"What's the matter now, child?"
"Ask him," said Narcisse. Florent casually pulled his gown down and sat up.
"Dearest Narcisse, did you not see him lust on my mouth? You're a sack of apples to Jocelyn. Did we not see it dropped onto your pallet," said Florent.
"Yes, and each apple, the apple of his eye, dearest Florent. Say nothing more to me now, and I will receive you later, ensconced in his arms, inside his bed... if you would dare spy there." With that, Narcisse turned on his heels and flew to Jocelyn's chamber.
"Oh... now I see, he asked for you." said Aurèle, scratching and preening, as he took Florent in.
"Yes... why wouldn't he. Narcisse is a kooky."
"Please abandon it Florent, Jocelyn is in love with him, I suppose... except Narcisse doesn't know who he wants."
"Yes... like a focken kooky, as I said"
Aurèle threw his head back in laughter.
"I don't mind where we have the pallet, so long as Aurèle and I can freely copulate on it," said Berenoise, and from behind, squeezed Aurèle in a tight hug.
"Please excuse him, he uses one of his bollocks for a brain," said Aurèle, and they all fell in laughter.
"You're as horny for me as I am for you." protested Berenoise, and Aurèle smothered him in a kiss of agreement.
"Yes, you shall both sleep here. Otherwise I'm sure you would both catch fevers, separated from one another's bodies." said Narcisse, tittering.
"And from our jakes," said Aurèle, and at that, Berenoise kissed his mouth, pulling him into a tight amorous snog. Narcisse, seeing how their mouths and hands lusted over each other, sought his own crotch.
"That just proves you're never wrong about boys, princling," said Aurèle.
"Are you also of five inches, Berenoise?" asked Narcisse, with surprise.
"Yes, and is my blessing."
"We each thought our lengths special on us only," said Aurèle. "And for 12 summers, I think us both blessed." The boys kissed and murmured, then let out, through their opened flies, their jakes, horny stiff and proud, and pushed up their crotches to show them off at Narcisse. He smiled and cooed pleasantly, admiring them, and gently touched each.
"Ah, they are so much the same. Yes, you are both blessed and much know I the joy of my best friend's five inch cock," she said to Aurèle, kissing his best friend's cheek. "I had not seen his before, tis too oft in your hole," she added, and they all giggled and kissed in delight.
From their proffered open crotches, she lightly eased out their young bollocks too, and admired their similarity.
"I will fock with you both, in Jocelyn's bed, when he is not servicing me. How much were you delighted in seeing Berenoise matched you, Aurèle?"
"I could not say at first, for my head was a froth, delighting in his passion, though my noise soon told him how much it pleased my hole."
"He much froths in my hole," said Berenoise, with glee, to more delightful laughter.
"Stop now, you horny tarts, my arsehole is throbbing for Jocelyn now, again.
"I will fetch a new gown for you," said Aurèle, and skipped off to the Pages ward-chamber.
Berenoise was a new Pageboy and had only been appointed since the previous month, to replace a page that had moved on. He was a raging little pansy tart for other boys, and utterly extrovert about it too, without the least reserve. He pulled any boy or lad into sexy kiss on site when he fancied him, and frequently had it returned.
The Court Chaplain had shown him around the busy Château, and Berenoise had already seen many of the Pages about, before he was shown into their quarters. Upon entering, it first looked to him as though it were empty, for the chamber was large, with irregular dimensions. But as he put down his belongings, then looked around, he saw a dream boy.
Aurèle had his tunic off, and was fussing about with his chemise, as he took a breather from duties, for it was a very warm day. He looked over at Berenoise and smiled out of politeness, but felt his willy twitch and tingle, noticing the boy was comely and pretty, like himself. Gazing back at Aurèle, Berenoise was immediately enthralled with ardour. He saw a boy very much like himself, slender and pretty, of about the same height and age, his hair similarly lank and long, though of a darker blonde shade, and saw how sunlight caught and highlighted it in streaks.
Berenoise's dormant willy quickly straightened in the pouch of his hose, and rose stiffly erect, and followed were it led. Approaching Aurèle, he cupped his young bollocks and stroked himself.
"I get stuck up 5 inches stiff, near a nice boy," said Berenoise, pushing his crotch out at Aurèle as he came close up to him. Aurèle was lost for an immediate answer but a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. As he glanced down at Berenoise's pronging hose, the confident extrovert boy slid a hand between Aurèle's legs and pulled him into a kiss. Aurèle was stunned by his impudence, but liking it, he responded, and without a word, they began to neck. Their passion mounted and they were quickly feeling and stroking each other up, then rubbing together, as they hectically snogged, stroking each other's peachy rounded bottoms.
"Come, lets knob on the bed" said Berenoise, breaking off as he tugged on Aurèle's hand. He had never heard it put like that before, but with a giggling titter, Aurèle submitted. Then, inbetween their mutual kissing and stroking, they had made their intros. When, in a short while thereafter, Valery, a pretty page of 13 summers entered the chamber, they were clasped to each other, hectically fucking.
He observed how a boy carried himself, and considered it much revealing how he perceived himself. He liked one who thought of himself as being arousing and attractive, and desirable; that certain quality of many a beautiful boy, who, fully aware of the beauty of his looks and his sex, though not consciously exploiting it, never the less communicated his awareness of himself, without reserve. He liked some wanton forwardness and a little pert maidenliness too, and all the better if seen to be erect in his hose, in Raymond's presence, during his visitation.
Raymond had been approached by his vassal, Vicomte de Nimes. De Nimes had asked his son, Celestin if he would like to be a page at a prestigious court. The boy had viewed it very favourably, especially when it was suggested the position might be at the court of their overlord. Thus to the foregoing regard, Raymond went to visit, and the boy was discussed and fetched for.
Celestin was a self-centred boy at 11½, in love with himself, as many boys his age are in pubertal adolescence. His head floated in a sex-cloud, centred on cock, his and other boys cocks. Because of being fetching and pretty for a boy, Celestin had been brought up and encouraged to adore himself, and was adored; constantly showered with affection and compliments, about how pretty he was.
From the first stirrings of his nascent puberty at nine years old, he had been indulged in sensual pleasure, having his young prick sucked when it stiffened and played with, whenever he wanted, and his arse rosebud caressed, even by his nanny, especially when he was upset about something. She would sooth him with a greasy finger inside it. His environment had been very liberal; he was shown how to masturbate, and allowed, and encouraged to openly do as he liked as he so desired; behaviour, which in another culture, would have seemed wantonly lewd.
He frequently slouched languorously, nude, on his parents laps, his legs hanging open, with them kissing and petting him, while he fully aroused, masturbated. Such was the liberty and licence he enjoyed at home. Indeed, his sister, a little older was treated similarly and would think nothing of being on her father's lap, naked, having her young burgeoning breasts played with.
Celestin was masturbated on his nanny's lap too, where she let him pee also, if he wanted to, without so much as moving a muscle. The naughty imp took great delight in always coming to her with a full bladder, and as he let go, she played with his young cock and balls, whilst his pee flowed over both of them; fortunately, nanny always wore a leather apron, with him to look after.
By the age of eleven he never slept alone. There was always at least one other boy with him in bed, age mates, and older, many different boys. However, there were other influences in his life, and when away from home and friends and family, his manners became less blatantly wanton, though by the age of eleven he had become a gorgeous and effeminate little pansy, in love with cock.
Now standing before Raymond for inspection, was an exquisitely pretty boy, of 11½, with twinkling hazel eyes, and light streaky blonde fine hair, which fell lank and straight, past the nape of his neck. He had a cute, slightly upturned nose, an achingly pretty carmine mouth, and long dark blonde eyelashes, and a slight blush in the cheeks, all set in a face of flawless complexion. Raymond also saw in the boy's face that indefinable quality that pubertal adolescent boys have: wanton cock worship.
Raymond gently caressed the boy's cheeks and brushed his hair from the sides of his face and gazed at the boy, and smiled at him as he looked him over from the crown of his head to his slippered feet.
Celestin tingled inside at the Seigneur's touch as though a wave were passing through his body and parted his mouth in a pretty smile then looked down a little shyly, feeling and seeing his young pubescent cock harden inside his hose and eased his hips a little forward to not hide it?
"Your boy is exquisite, Thierry," said Raymond to the boy's father.
"I pray that he might as such, honour your court, Sire."
"Indeed he would much compliment it," replied Raymond, nodding fervently. He smiled at the boy again, and Celestin looked quizzically at his father and then into Raymond's eyes again.
"Sire, I am told you may wish engage me to be a page at your Court," said Celestin pertly.
"Indeed, and the sun and the stars shall feel blessed over its roof with you under it."
"Why Sire, and do they not bless me here?" said Celestin cutely, slowly flashing his eyelashes at Raymond.
"Celestin !" exclaimed his father.
"I'm sure they must, for you are one of the most exquisitely pretty boys I've ever seen." effused Raymond, and touched his lips to the boy's hand.
"You may kiss me," said Celestin, cocking his head to one side, squirming a little as he asserted himself, smiling brightly.
"Celestin, do not dispense favours and gratuities in that manner. Offer yourself, quietly and respectfully. I remind you that this gentleman is our overlord, Raymond, Count of Toulouse," said his father.
"Thierry!" admonished Raymond plaintively, but the boy drew up to Raymond with parted lips, and Raymond kissed him slowly.
"There," said Raymond, taking a wrist and kissed the boy's palm too. Raymond's hand then slipped between the boy's upper thighs and felt him under his tunic, fondling him, feeling the boy's fully tumesced young cock through his hose. Celestin, still smiling adoringly and without altering his gaze at Raymond, eased himself further forward, parting his thighs for Raymond's hand and raised his tunic front a little that it might not hinder his progress, whilst Raymond's other palm caressed the boy's bottom and enquired of his age.
"Do you play with Etienne?" asked Raymond, engagingly.
"With Etienne , Sire?"
"Etienne here ," replied Raymond, with a little laugh, fondling the boy's erection through his hose. Celestin quivered and held his bottom lip ''twixt his teeth.
"My prick... why yes Sire?" replied Celestin, making to correct Raymond's silliness, "and my friends play with it much, too, Sire, and my nurse does so, as she bathes me."
"How is it?" Raymond asked, engagingly of him.
"Why, I like it much Sire. My nanny says my arse is naughty as I cannot stop it squirming, but she so pleasures me so. She doth fap me Sire, with a finger in my arse," laughed Celestin.
Raymond drew back against his chair, very aroused, and exhaled noisily. Noticing this, Celestin asked, "May I show it you, Sire?"
Now, before Raymond had made any response, Celestin had raised his tunic again and unfastened his hose. Out sprang a young and pretty 4¾ inch rigid young prick, and he protruded his hips forward, cupping his balls in one had, and offered himself to Raymond.
"Does it please you Sire," asked Celestin with a coy smile, fingering it a little like a little pansy, then flicking and holding to down to make spring about. He let his arms droop limply by his sides, stared down at it, and flashed a smile at Raymond. "See Sire, it wants to play. "
Raymond, now seated, laughed indulgently at him, and with a nod exchanged with his father, drew the boy closer, hugged and kissed him, and gave the boy's cock a stroke.
"My, my," he said to the boy's father, "He owns a rare beauty. Rare enough to please Lord, page, Monk, lads, boys and damsels, alike, Thierry, and for not quite yet twelve summers. You have reared him well. He would be the most popular page at my court."
Hearty laughter ensued. Raymond told Celestin he was an especially pretty boy, and pleased him much all together. Celestin had rested his head against Raymond with one knee drawn up, gaping his thighs open, hankering to be on Raymond's lap. Raymond obliged and began softly masturbating the boy as Celestin simpered softly in response to it. He then sucked the boy off on a couch, swept him up into his arms, and bid the Vicomte farewell. Taking his leave without further ado, with his small retinue, he rode away for Autignac, clasping his new novice page Corporeal to him on his saddle.
After their arrival at the Château d'Autignac, Raymond had a cursory talk with Celestin about how his new life would proceed at court, and education, for the role of page Corporeal, which he would assume about the time of his twelfth summer, in six months. At the castle, he was given over to the care of the Chaplain who would be his mentor. The Chaplain complimented him on his prettiness and beauty, who always found this always well with a conceited page, and advised him not to be secretive in anything he did.
In his activities he was to fully enjoy and show himself off as he wished, and not be shy or seek seclusion, for fear of any rebuke or admonition. The Chaplain was referring to masturbation of course. Celestin giggled that he had never needed to hide away anywhere when he wanted to fap, play kissing, or even fuck with another boy, and did so anywhere, as he pleased. The Chaplain also told him that the same went for pissing and that it was liked to see in a page.
"It particularly delights the Seigneur and his son to have pretty Pageboys disport themselves about, and show themselves off," said the Chaplain.
He added that his new environment at Château d'Autignac was a place of natural beauty and freedom, most manifest in its compliment of Pages. He then went on to briefly explain that Celestin would be enrolled at the court school in the next few days to learn about courtly duties and etiquette, academic studies, and music, where he would learn the lute, and how to accompany it.
Cèlestin then went on to say that they used to... "squabble over me because I didn't know which one I liked best, but I liked them all. My father said that because I am very pretty, I should have one special boyfriend, because it wasn't fair to make them cry, when I couldn't choose, so then Sire Raymond came to visit us, and brought me here."
The Chaplain kissed his cheek and assured him he should have no doubts about having a special boyfriends at Château d'Autignac, to sleep with every night.
All of the appointed Court Pages passed through the court Chaplain's hands; their welfare was his duty. As with most boys between the ages of 11 – 14, their heads floated in a sex cloud, and cock was a 'mesmerizing' draw in the mind of a prospective page who sought such a position. Being adorable as well as sexy, as was the norm for these Pages, he frequently already had much experience of cock with other boys; a young and pretty adolescent is scarce short of friends.
At his inception at court, the new page was bedazzled by the thought of being surrounded by an elite group of other boys free to enjoy cock all day between their duties. The Chaplain let the novice settle himself in for a few days amongst his fellows, and acclimatize himself with their lifestyle, and make friends. Later he might form a particular strong boyfriend relationship with another, if he so wished. It was not until he desired to venture himself forth to the Seigneur for adult cock, that he was approached.
Naturally, amongst themselves there would be much bragging, and embroidered tales, and establishment of hierarchy, and also of devotion and fulfilment, and it was these sentiments that influenced him. In this matter, the old Chaplain was the page's confidant, and though partaking of no physical intimacy with them, yet loved he boys dearly, and made himself always available on hand to guide and counsel them when they approached him for help. The kindly Chaplain was much taken aback, though, at a remark of Celestin's.
"You focken old cunt. You shall keep your old focken knob in your gown. Don't focken think your having that out with me, then I will be happy with you."
"Why yes, young pretty stripling, twas ever so here that there shall remain a courteous sexual space between myself and all court Pages, passing through my hands."
One trait that many of the Pages had in common was that they couldn't stand still without posing; they preened at their hair, and prissied about with themselves, whilst fondling and caressing their crotches, and sometimes their bottoms, so cocksure of themselves were they.
In flirting, Celestin soon saw that they would have their pricks out and stroke them to show off how horny they were, and offer their crotches to him. Out of the complement of sixteen pages, ranging in age eleven to fourteen at the château, there was always some sexual intrigue about..
After his introductory talk with the Chaplain, Celestin was passed to the Nurse's chamber and handed over to her, having a little word with her about him, which she nodded and chuckled at. Nurse, nicknamed Sourquim, amongst the Pages, was a buxom, but soft hearted matriarch, one with many duties. One of them was maintaining clothing and laundry for the court household. In her store, amongst much other clothing, she kept page attire of all sizes, including hosiery and night gowns. She greeted Celestin and sized him up with her eye.
"Oh my Lord in heaven, you are a leggy pretty darling, aren't you. What's your name and how old are you?"
"Celestin de Nimes, ma'am, and I'm of 11½ summers," said Celestin, blushing.
"Ordinaire or Corporeal, not that it much matters here, these days, the seigneur past fooling around with Pages and damsels... his battle injuries you see."
"Corporeal ma'am, or at least I'm going to be."
"You have beautiful hair poppet, I'll have to get you out some special things then, won't I. Now let me see..." said Nurse, and she disappeared into her store, a large ante-chamber wardrobe.
When she returned her arms were full of clothing.
"There, now lets see...This is your livery...and these are your blue chapeau with your gold ankle bracelet that tells everyone you're a Corporeal...," said Nurse, placing the items on a cabinet.
"Now this your hosiery...I'm giving you five to start you off. You will see the fastenings to your breeks are loose at the front. Nothing is worn over your what-nots here and these are your slippers, aren't they pretty, try the size."
Celestin tried them, but found them too small, so Nurse scuttled off and changed them, and had to get another size of livery and chemise too, as they were too large, though the hose fit perfectly. Fully dressed now from head to toe in his new garments, in front of Nurse he prissied and sashayed about, inspecting himself, and felt sexy, which brought his young cock up in his hose yet again. He lifted his tunic to see how it looked there, protruding his hips forward in front of Nurse, and stared at it, then with a pained expression, bent his knees up and down.
"My jake is up Ma'am, see how it peeks out under my tunic."
"Aye, you'll get used to that and what a forward pretty poppet you are too, aren't you."
"I beg pardon ma'am...I'm told I am exquisitely pretty and that my young cock is very much a liking to other boys and lads, ma'am."
"No well, I certainly won't argue with that, and for damsels too. I'm happy you seemed pleased with your attire."
Nurse took stock of him again, ' my word, what a popular little chèri you'll be.'
"It's as you please, my pretty little darling, but you'll have the other Pageboys all over you," she replied.
"Are they also pretty?"
"Well now let me see," said Nurse. "Though you're one of the prettiest...there's Narcisse, he's 12, very pretty and a lot like you, then there's Aurèle, he's 12, and pretty too, with very pretty pale blond hair, and Pascal too, he's 13."
"How are the older Pages, ma'am?"
"Oh well I wouldn't call them old. There's three I think are no more than fourteen, very nice boys, and Celestin, he's fourteen, and a very lovely boy. Don't ask me for the others names, some I can't recall...they are all very lovely good looking boys.""
"...And have they got nice pricks, too, ma'am?"
"Oh, enough now...you'll find out, I'm sure. Now, the rest of your clothing..."
"This gown is your bed wear, I'm sure it's your size," said Nurse, handing him it.
"Oh whoa, this is damsel wear, ma'am," returned Celestin, holding it against himself.
"It may look so, but isn't. Now this is also for you, it's a boy's Shendyt made of very beautiful silk. I was told they are come from some eastern realm, and very costly. Pay attention now because according to the Chaplain the Seigneur has requested that you wear it rather than your livery until further notice from him. It's only really for fine weather and summer use, as now and you don't wear it with anything else, no chemise, breeks or hose, except the string sandals with it. I seldom hand them out, they are only given to the Seigneur's very special boys. The only other boy was Narcisse, though he wears Ordinaire livery now."
Celestin stripped off his livery in front of Nurse, and momentarily toyed with himself, grinning, then first tried on his night gown, which Nurse had to change again, it being too big. He swished about in it, lifting it up, and giggled, swirling and cavorting about. Then he shed it and wrapped the Shendyt around himself, which fitted perfectly when he fastened it. Celestin's face was a picture as he inspected and caressed himself in it, and flitted his eyes at Nurse with a blink and a gasp, deeply blushing, and a broad grin slid across his face. He was the essence of pert young concupiscence.
The garment was a short length of the finest pale silk, that had a sheen to it on both sides. It was designed to be worn as a front fastening, double wrap skirt. It sat a little above his hips and terminated up the thighs but covered the boy's pudenda satisfactorily. Over the middle of the tummy, the edges overlapped, with the lower edges curving away on each side into the hem line. Stood still, it covered his bottom, but his erect young cock clearly pointed the front, and lifted it's fine lightness somewhat.
Light shimmered off it and as he swished about in it, it would lift and show bare bottom and genitals. He screamed in a gale of exited and delighted giggling laughter, then stood still but slunk down on his hips gazing at himself again. Nurse thought them rather delightful to see on a healthy adolescent boy, but grimaced a face at the thought of an adult male in one.
"You're a pretty little pansy boy... aren't you , and you want to be eaten, don't you...hmm , isn't that so?"
"Aye ma'am," returned Celestin, most assuredly, his lips quivering in a naughty smirk.
"Well then, in you're Shendyt, you look an adorably pretty little sweetheart, and you'll be kissing and romping with each other...isn't that what you want ."
She drew him close to her, and her hand went under his Shendyt and rubbed and patted his bare bottom, briefly holding it there and kissed his cheek again. He felt beautiful, and with his bottom lip 'twixt his teeth, simpered, and swished to and fro, entranced with himself, and gazed at the poking protrusion his young cock made in his Shendyt. She brought out of her pocket a small phial of scent, opened it, and had him sniff it.
"Shall I dab some on you, to make you smell nice, poppet?"
"Yes ma'am, please," began Celestin, thinking she would perhaps dab it on his neck. She rubbed the scent into her hands and went straight under his Shendyt with them, quickly rubbing his bare bottom with one hand, whilst thoroughly handling him under his crotch, his young balls, and his cock, with her other hand. He threw his back and mewled and whimpered like a young damsel, wishing they were another boys hands, and would have come off, had she dallied, but she withdrew.
"So how do you like yourself in your little Shendyt? Take this little flask of almond oil, I don't want you getting sore." said Nurse, handing it to him.
"Do you know how to use it?"
"Aye, yes ma'am, of course."
"Do you want a dildo...um, it's a...,"
"No ma'am ," interjected Celestin, with bemused embarrassment, "I know what they are. Nurse, controlling some inner mirth, dismissed the subject, and took a deep breath.
"Now do you want me to take you around to meet your Pageboy companions, or do you want to explore by yourself."
"No ma'am, explore," said Celestin, and off he went.
The blacksmith at Châteaux d'Autignac had recently lost his apprentice after a dispute, and the lad had then joined the Court garrison to become a soldier. Now the blacksmith had found a new lad from some local village, used to doing similar work. His name was Jean, and was in his sixteenth summer. Jean was strong and lean, and had the body of a young god, and though not devastatingly handsome he was comely of looks, and had a quiet seductive sexiness about him. No one knew much about his background however, as he was quiet and secretive, but was already proving his worth in his new job.
Three of the Pages Ordinaire had discovered him too. The twelve and thirteen year olds always knew when there was a hunky youth about on the estate. They had straight away begun to fool about near the forge when their duties allowed a free period.
There was Aurèle, the youngest at twelve and Pascal and Florent were thirteen year olds. They prissied about and preened themselves and one another, smacking and tapping and giggling excitedly as one made little dares with the other. They wanted Jean to notice them, but dare not go inside the forge, as they couldn't come up with a pretext to be there.
Aurèle, for some reason, knew straight away though, as soon they started to mess about near the forge, and by the fact that the lad wasn't coming out to see what the twittering noises were outside, that he was going have the lad. He knew and sensed from the atmosphere around them that Jean inside the forge must know they were here and why. Aurèle was a tall slender twelve year old, with long beautiful lissome legs and was very pretty, yet with a face that had young horny 'sex' written all over it.
Like the other pretty Pages, he got satisfying cock in his hole every day, but what Aurèle really craved and got little of was sturdy and stout teenage ladcock, 6 and more inches.
He raised up the front of his tunic in both hands and exposed himself lewdly to his companions, sighed and giggle, feeling the breeze on his own stiff rigid prick and cavorted about like a damsel in front of his two peers.
"This is what he wants – me. Look at me, I'm a lad's dream.
"Hah, Aurèle, you little tart," said Florent.
"I know I am, and adored for it, but I am not just a tart for you two," said Aurèle curtseying theatrically.
"So what are you going to do about it, horny tart, and let your tunic down, slut, otherwise I'm going to knob you where you stand," said Pascal.
"I'll let you of course, but wait till after my lad comes out for me,"
"Hah, your lad –oh Aurèle – go get him, he is merely a blacksmith's lad" returned Florent.
What Aurèle sensed was perfectly true, Jean was aware that prissy young things were dallying about near the forge from time to time, and by the sound of them they were Court Pages. He could hear their silly twittering maidenly voices and knew perfectly well that sooner or later, in this new job, at this large Château, he would be stirring up interest from pretty pansy Pages nearly wetting themselves for his attention.
This was actually the main reason why he had taken the job, and was quiet and secretive only through lust. He quickly found a spy hole to eye them through in the timbered wall, though wasn't able to make out what they said, only their giggly twittering. He liked what he saw – cute pretty frames, dressed in high fashion Court livery, especially the really pretty one. He hadn't seen Aurèle raise his tunic though and and show himself off, but he had to get back to work, the blacksmith had eyed him a few times, peering about outside.
It seemed 'Aurèle's lad' would be a fruitless cause for now though, and they had got themselves excited over nothing. They wouldn't go in the forge and he apparently wasn't coming out, so the naughty young Pages sashayed themselves back towards the Château Court. With all their chatter about the lad and about the attributes and qualities of lads, they were very horny and had to go to bed to soixante-neuf in a threesome for an hour, until they felt better.
The following day, it perchanced that they passed the Secretary in the courtyard who was leading a horse out, and he called them over. They were told the horse needed re-shodding, and would at least one of them lead it to the forge for same.
They couldn't believe their luck and began prissying and twittering and giggling all over again about 'the lad'. Aurèle insisted on sitting on the mount bareback, so Pascal and Florent led it to the forge. At the forge, they nosed it through the entrance and this time, Jean approached to attend them.
"She is for new shoes," said Pascal.
"Aye alright – my master is gone to the village horse fair, but I can do it," said Jean, smiling, then he looked the Pages over. Aurèle took note of what he said, while Pascal and Florent prissied about with themselves, posing and cooing as their heads turned this way and that looking around the forge and at Jean, and twittering and shaking and pulling on Aurèle's ankle, still mounted on the horse. Jean scratched his head and grinned.
"You must get down," admonished Florent, giggling and kissing Aurèle's calf . "He's such a naughty twat, he would insist on being mounted," said Florent to Jean.
"Help me down then, please," said Aurèle to no one in particular, and flapped his hands about limp wristedly like a helpless pansy.
"Come then," said Jean holding his arms up to him.
' Oh in your arms, I will come so. I'll come my knackers off in your hands, ' thought Aurèle and swung his leg over to dismount and was down, being held in Jean's arms with his hands around his Jean's neck, all in a trice. Jean had witnessed some naked young crotch in the manoeuvre, making his ladcock lift up, but it was just one sexy facet combined in the sight, touch, and hearing and then smell that assailed his senses as he held the pretty boy. They stared into one another's eyes a moment, slack mouthed and remained thus as they made overtures to one another.
"There you are down and safe," said Jean'
"Augh, you're so strong...and gentle,"
"Well a gentle page I have in my arms, and I am sure you are used to nothing less," said the lad, and the other two cooed softly at his words, but Aurèle cooed the most.
"What is your name," asked Aurèle, now with hands smoothing down Jean's bare chest.
"Jean, and yours?"
"Aurèle...I am of twelve summers only, do you like such, boys I mean perhaps."
Jean paused and then replied, "I like it this way," and pressed his mouth to Aurèle's, plunging his tongue deeply in, as Aurèle pushed in his and they jostled together. 'Oh wow', thought Aurèle. Jean worked his mouth, and their heads went round and around and up and down in a deep passionate snog, that Aurèle gave him like for like in. ' Whoa, this little twelve summers tart is nice ,' thought Jean.
Jean held him tightly and his right hand slipped down and under his tunic for some young bare arse to press and stroke. Aurèle broke the kiss, having spied out the corner of his eye a stone slab block on the floor and pulled Jean over by it, grinning. Aurèle stood a foot on it, to give his lad's hands easier access underneath him, and giggling, flipped his tunic skirt up at him in invitation. Jean took him again, and worked him even more thoroughly, holding his neck and jaw with one hand, whilst roving over him underneath with the other hand. Aurèle squirmed about and pushed his body into Jean's hands every which way the lad's hands romped over him. Pascal and Florent cooed and simpered, prissying and kissing one another crotch to crotch, as they watched.
"Nnnnh nnnh nnnh," moaned Aurèle, as he was being worked. ' fock...oh god...aw .'
Aurèle then pulled away from Jean, gasping, and moaned. "You're bringing my balls to cum." he said breathlessly.
"I have to," replied Jean, "that is what pretty ones are for."
Aurèle giggled at him. "No, not like this. You do want to fock me, don't you?"
"Yes, so how then?" asked Jean.
"Shoe the horse first," replied Aurèle, and sashayed over to his companions, rolling his eyes at them as Jean selected shoes for the horse.
"Well if you will go with rough lads, what do you expect," muttered Pascal.
"You're so dramatic Aurèle, why didn't you just let him bring you off whilst he was eating you, I'm going to," added Florent.
"I can get anything I want, and I want to keep him, he's nice. Strip me, except for my slippers, and leave my shirt on, unbuttoned please, and I'll just have it off my shoulders for him, or must I do it myself."
Jean looked over at the three of them, prissying and whispering and messing about as he re-shod the horse, then watched as the other two were undressing the pretty tart.
They did as he asked, and dressed Aurèle's cleft and rosebud with oil too, that they had with them, and muttered to him at the same time.
"What if the blacksmith comes back, he will lose his employment," said Pascal.
"No he will not, or I will get it back for him."
"You are such a cock sure little tart," said Florent.
"I know. How do I look...don't you want to suck me," said Aurèle, with a superior smile on his face as he stood limply protruding his stiff cock forward, and practically nude except for his slippers and his white silk shirt off his shoulders.
"Ask your husband," giggled Florent and sashayed off to the entrance with Pascal. They were both fully aroused at the sight of him, and clasped each other into protracted frenching and fondling.
Aurèle tripped over to Jean, who was still busy with the horse.
"Please have your cock out while you work, it will be pleasant for us to see while you're busy...here, may I get it out for you?" said Aurèle, unfastening the front of Jean's hose before Jean could gather his wits. Jean went over to the forge entrance to have a scout about for the blacksmith returning or anyone else, wanting the forge. He muttered dirty and salaciously at them. It came out fully rigid erect, and what a healthy stout johnson it was too, at some 7¾ inches, the best the Pages had ever seen on a lad of 17. It wavered about as he attended to his work. The Pages almost swooned at the sight, cooing and simpering breathlessly, and as he went back to work it began to droop somewhat, but not by much.
"Oh phwaaar, Jean, the lord above us, you're focken fair and huge. It's a beauty. Jean grinned and sat down for a breather, then pulled Aurèle onto his lap.
"Come here you pretty maiden boy, you fairy flower pansy... cor." Jean began to have his way with the pretty pansy and went for Aurèle's cock. Aurèle splayed his legs open for him. You like me like this, I see, and me also. My master adores me on his lap like so. So, do you only like boys arses Jean, I hope so and bet you do?"
"Shut your waffling now. I wants your mouth for mine. Then after they kissed and made out... Do you bring the Château to a standstill every time you're focked," asked Jean, shaking with laughter at the nymph.
"Oh don't be rude with me, I only want to know what you like."
"Yes, I only like young boy arse of 11 to 13 summers, it's the best."
"And young maidens?"
"No, only boy arse, with voices like maidens," said Jean, now mounting the horse to check his work on the hooves.
"Is that why you are working here?" asked Aurèle, cheekily, but guessed it could be so.
Jean looked down at this, reached down and hoisted Aurèle onto the saddle in front of him then pressed a firm kiss on his mouth. "I can get what I like in the village every day and night, but I've seen so many pretty one's like you here."
"You can have my arse, as you can guess why we're here. We won't all let you though, but anyway how do you like to fock us...with our arse up or legs up?"
"I like it every way, but best for me is legs up, or sat with a boy across me, as now, so I can have his mouth too." replied Jean, and Aurèle giggled. "So do you only like it horsed," added Jean.
"I haven't had it like that yet, but you don't expect me to have my legs up for you in here, do you." Aurèle then became very agitated and petulant and jumped up and down in the saddle, his hole now badly itching to be fucked.
"Fock me, fock me Jean I want your cock up me...I want you in my hole, Jean, please...I'm aching for it...please Jean," wailed Aurèle, panting in extreme sexual distress now.
Jean, now also heavily panting, hurriedly led the horse out of the forge and tethered it to a low tree branch, and mounted from it. He hauled Aurèle up from the branch too, sitting Aurèle facing him and
Jean clicked at the horse and trotted it to the forge entrance now, then copiously spat on a hand and applied it to his throbbing cock. Aurèle lifted for his pussy hole to have the same treatment, both of them moaning to fuck now. Then Aurèle went down on Jeans pole, straight down, with no discomfort, much used to rigid soldierboy ladprick. Aurèle began to jig and bounce in Jean's lap, grasping the lad's neck, and quickly climaxed within two stokes of Jeans pole up him. Aurèle was croaking and gurgling, and came off, creaming over Jean's abdomen and the gaping flap of his hose.
That over, Jean settled himself into a slow steady fuck of the lovely pansyboy and after a little while longer, Aurèle was snuffling and croaking again, his head thrown back and with raised forearms, flapping his hands up and down, loose wristedly and came off again croaking and wailing. This time as the boy spasmed on the lad's cock, Jean too convulsed in orgasm, holding Aurèle down, as he blissfully creamed and creamed and creamed up the boy's hole.
One sunny afternoon after being engaged in running errands for the Count, Pascal sought to take some rest on his bed, and wandered into the page's chamber. He found it empty except for Gabriel laid on his bed in his night gown, arms resting under his head, apparently taking his ease, yet he didn't look at ease to Pascal. Bemused that Gabriel was dressed thus in the afternoon, he wanted his night gown on too.
"Gabriel, hello, I hope you're just resting and not ill."
"I have to rest this afternoon...for some reasons of my own."
"Oh well...may I sit with you?"
"Of course you may, I would like your company."
"I will put my gown on too." Pascal paused, cocked his head and leered at Gabriel. He had become quickly aroused, and fondled himself under his tunic to show Gabriel his interest for him, then skipped away towards his clothing chest by his bed.
' I really wonder why he's here like this...perhaps sulking about something ,' thought Pascal. Having now donned his gown he looked down at himself and saw how attractively his erect willy made his gown point out, then skipped back over to Gabriel, who's gown was now also pointing. Smiling at him, Pascal asked if he was alright, and now deliberately pushed his hips out and fondled himself again. He alighted on Gabriel's bed, with a breathy little laugh and stood over Gabriel, astride his head, to have him gaze up his bare legs at his total nudity under his gown.
"What can you see," asked Pascal, swaying about.
"You're pretty legs, bare balls, and your pretty fritzy, throbbing for me."
"Truly...you're very observant," tittered Pascal, as he then flounced out his gown, and sat down over Gabriel's legs, arranging themselves comfortably.
"That feels nice, you're warming my feet inside your thighs," said Gabriel.
"Yes, it feels very pleasant, and I like to please."
"I know you do, I'm even harder now," said Gabriel smiling and fingering himself. "My fritzy goes up for hardly anything."
"Mine too" returned Pascal, and they both giggled like damsels.
"How do you like it best?" asked Gabriel.
"When we're kissing and Pascal goes into my hose and I come up in his fingers; he likes that much, and my standing over him, like I just did."
"Can you stay down when you're being kissed, I can't," said Gabriel with surprise.
"I can hardly...but with my eyes closed I can think it's the 's mouth instead." Gabriel's face lit up and squealed in giggles.
"I like it when I'm stared at and know he's going to grab me, and then proving I could hardly wait for it," said Gabriel.
"For who," Pascal tittered.
"Haven't you heard Léandre's bed squeaking, when he's impaling me?"
Pascal laughed and raised his gown to his tummy, then Gabriel likewise, and dribbled almond oil onto his vertical willy, then plonked down on top of Gabriel and they squirmed a little to nestle their cocks together and kissed.
"You're such a sweet page."
"You're prettier than me...you know you are, " returned Gabriel.
"They say we both are...and Aurèle."
"Oh well yes, him too, if he must be included, but the little pansy tart can't control his mouth, or his hands."
"Do you like XXXX?"
"Yes of course...you're sexy boyfriend...you're really satisfied aren't you."
"Of course, and his cock for my hole. He twists in it," giggled Pascal, "I love him doing it. Are you sulking here, by the way?" asked Pascal, with more petting and squirming.
"Do I look and sound as though I'm sulking," replied Gabriel, shifting his hands from Pascal's neck to fondle his bottom.
"What then, angel darling...Were you just waiting for some attention?" Gabriel slid his hands from Pascal's bottom and pushed out his tongue into Pascal's mouth and they began frotting. They soon screeched and squealed in abandon until Gabriel arched up and let out a long wail, quickly followed by Pascal.
In the aftermath, Gabriel lay on top, and they giggled about their wet bellies and petted breathy kisses on each other's mouths, whilst Pascal stroked Gabriel's pert arse that he arched under his hands, and meandered his fingers in and out of Gabriel's damp crease as he splayed open his thighs for his friend's fingers.
"You're really nice," said Gabriel.
"Gabriel angel, you must have someone, you pretty darling, you know how much I love you.
"Pascal, can I tell you something?"
"I don't love Léandre, all he wants to do is tup me all the time...I want a lad," said Gabriel, flatly. Pascal gazed at him.
"A lad...what do you mean?" began Pascal.
"I want a lad to play with me...I want a lad's cock for my hole."
"Aw...but...but Gabriel, we have our master's cock...isn't... don't you like it?"
"No Pascal, you know I don't like...I don't want mancock. I have had it with Raymond, you do know that, even though now I'm just an Ordinaire...but I want someone to play with who's my friend, and loves me, I want a lad with..."
"A bigger cock than Raymond's," interjected Pascal, in disbelief.
"No , Pascal. Raymond's cock is nice, it is like a lad's too, but I miss having a cute lad kissing me and spunking up my hole and playing with me, like we are lovers. When I was 10, I started with a comely lad before my father gave me to Raymond, he was 17." Pascal's mouth slid into a broad smirk.
"Ten ... you naughty young puppy ," exclaimed Pascal. Gabriel turned aside and gazed through a window arch at the blue sky summer. Pascal kissed his neck.
"May we go out for a walk, you and I...to Autignac village," said Gabriel, after trying to gauge Pascal's mood.
"What today...and do what...you know we need express permission from the to allow that."
"I meant now actually, while we're still quiet at court. We can ask, then go just as we are, in our gowns. I know I'll spring a lad's cock there."
Pascal giggled at him. "Your head is loop de loop, do you know that. You want us, you and I, to stroll along to Autignac village in our night gowns, naked netherwise, and search out for horny ladcock...and to fall in love with you in the bargain?"
"Yes, a horny lad, spunking in me as he eats my mouth...a friendly loving one," returned Gabriel, not a little heated.
"We'll be raped on the way there." exclaimed Pascal.
"Well if he's a lad ..." began Gabriel, smirking.
"It's loopy, we'd never be allowed out dressed like this ...to frisk about the countryside," laughed Pascal.
"I love it when you protest and wave your arms about."
"You're an imbecile,"
"Then get off my bed," returned Gabriel. Pascal shuffled down to the tail of the bed and sulked, but considered the proposition and thought it seemed very sexy, though fraught with difficulties and danger. He looked back at Gabriel, poker faced, then relented.
"Come on little idiot, you've got some explaining to do with Growler," said Pascal and sprung off the bed, grasping Gabriel's wrist.
"You mean it," cooed Gabriel, gleefully.
"You're a twat," returned Pascal, as he hauled him off.
"So...lads like boy twat, what better for a lad...while he's wanking me." Pascal looked at him bemusedly and pinched his bottom.
"We better not have Raymond find out," said Pascal, in hushed tones as they approached the Chamberlains door. Gabriel kissed him and knocked on door.
"Nay Sire, we presently have some free time, and...and, took our ease, resting. Now we want some air in the warm sun, and thought to remain in our gowns for the pursuit, Sire." said Gabriel.
' Brilliant ,' thought Pascal.
"Ah ," said the Chamberlain.
"We seek your sanction, Sire. May we take leave to be out." The thought for a moment, and doubted a page would seek permission from him , to wander and cavort about in his night attire within the precincts of the château, when they fornicated wantonly in the nude, on every lawn within it, at will.
"Yes you may, do as you wish, remain within the precinct walls of course," he said crisply.
"Ah, Sire...we sought to proceed to Autignac village only," said Pascal.
"What are you young nymphs about?"
"Some different air Sire, and sun."
"Ah, and these you cannot obtain attired in your livery , in the village."
"The air, Sire...it would feel better for us, as we are," returned Gabriel. Pascal fought with his mirth. The eyed them suspiciously, knowing they were up to something, then straightened. He approached them closely, and their young, musky adolescent fragrance invaded his nostrils, but resolute, with a fixed jaw, he gave them a warning.
"Gentlemen Pages, you will indeed pay attention to the sun, for if it should dip below the horizon, with you still absent from court, you will feel some other heat. I hope I make myself plain...now off with you," with that he wafted his hand at them in dismissal.
They each took one of his hands, and kissed it respectfully, backed away, then fled. They flew, hand in hand into the courtyard, screaming in giggles.
"You're brilliant," laughed Pascal.
"We both are," replied Gabriel, as they swung hands and kissed, proceeding to the main gate.
"And you are?" the guard asked, scrutinizing them, as they motioned for exit.
"Savatier, don't be a dog , you know who we are. We have leave to pass." Savatier, the duty guard, eyed them suspiciously, and smirked, then, with salacious mumblings to himself, opened the château main gate and let them out.
They proceeded along the village track, for about a league [2 miles], still swinging hands and giggling and reaching for kisses.
"Do you have anyone in mind to meet, sweetling," asked Pascal as they approached Autignac."
"No, but when we see a comely lad, we will flirt."
"No sweetling, you may flirt, I shall not, 'tis you who wants the lad."
"So you would refrain from sitting on a comely lad for his pleasure and yours?"
"Yay, I have comely Pascal and Raymond, yet may I take you onto the green and screw you senseless?"
"Nay young sire, you will spoil my gown," quipped Gabriel. Pascal giggled, then grabbed him and gave him a hard kiss that included molesting him. They reached their destination and were now in the middle of the village, looking around, and saw approaching them, some women folk and a few men, farm peasants, returning from the fields. As they passed, the men goggled at them, who then received firm advice from their women folk. Tagging along behind the adults were three boys, of about their age. They grinned at the Pages and called out salacious remarks, stopping to stare. One wagged his tongue out at them lasciviously, and cupped his crotch, most lasciviously, but a woman came over to and clipped the back of his head. As the village boys made to continue on their way, Gabriel raised his gown, and protruding his hips, let out a copious stream of piss, in their direction and Pascal followed suit. Laughter all round ensued.
Neither page had any clue about village life and they wandered about, seemingly aimless, but turning a corner, spied a hostelry, close by. Standing by it was a comely youth, tending a horse. He was some half a foot taller than the boys and seemed to be of about eighteen, with wavy dark sandy hair that fell to his shoulders. From the way he was tending his horse and its accoutrements, he displayed a lithesome and graceful strength, and was certainly a very handsome looking youth. His apparel showed that he was anything but a peasant, and gave a visual impression to the boys that he was perhaps a young squire.
Gabriel halted them in their tracks, some little way from him and exclaimed in a constrained gasp, "O h holy heaven , look at him ," as he ogled the youth, in wide eyed wonder.
"I'm going to faint," said Gabriel, and turning to Pascal, dropped to his knees, then collapsed on the ground. Pascal cried out in shock, and stooped to attend him.
"Gabriel ," cried Pascal, " what is wrong with you ." He crouched by his friend, and caressed his face. In the next instant, the lad came rushing over, who's eye had been caught by the circumstance.
"Is he hurt, what is wrong," he asked.. Pascal, in some rising distress for his friend, was further taken aback and a little flustered at the lad's sudden close proximity.
"I think he has fainted, Sire," said Pascal. He asked Pascal his friend's name, and he gave it.
"Gabriel... " said the lad, stroking his brow, and then raising him a little, listened for his breathing. Affirming that he was, the youth lifted him onto his crouched lap, and supported his waist, then softly called his name again, into his ear. After some little time, as the lad nursed him, Gabriel opened his eyes, swallowed, and looked about himself and at Pascal and then at the lad. Shaking his head to wake himself properly now, Gabriel then gazed at the lad, opened mouthed, as though stunned again.
"Are you ill boy," asked the lad.
"Nay Sire, I must have fainted," he replied languidly.
"Then are you now recovered?" he asked, brushing his hand through Gabriel's hair.
"I don't know...I seem so, Sire."
However, the lad seemed not satisfied and scooped him up in his arms and proceeded over to low wall, followed by Pascal. He and the lad sat down, nursing Gabriel in his lap, and continued to stroke his pretty blond head, and smiled at them both.
"Who are you boys," he asked.
"Please Sire, we are Pages from Château d'Autignac over the way, on an errand in the village, I am Pascal, and my friend is Gabriel," said Pascal, then looking down blushed deeply at how they were attired. Gabriel had a silly smile on his face and just gazed and listened to the lad's voice, hard erect under his gown, feeling lad's firm thighs under him through his silk covered bottom, and his arm encircling his waist.
"Ah I see, yes. My name is Roland, but forgive me, you seem dressed in night apparel, yes."
"Aye Sire Roland, it is so...we thought to take some air as such," said Pascal airily.
Roland laughed, throwing his head up. "Ah, I understand...and does the air feel fresh under your gowns," said Roland with a bemused smile, and cast it at the boy in his lap, patting Gabriel's thigh with his other hand, and letting it rest there. Both boys blushed deeply, and Gabriel gasped a little – ' oh don't nurse me so, my cock is fit to spunk. '
"So much so, Roland, but we have completed our errand," replied Pascal. At that, Gabriel's hands went to his mouth to stifle a laughing fit.
"How I wish I was of your ages and free to roam the byways in my night ware." The boys laughed. "So what are your ages..let me guess, 13?"
"I am 12 Sire, but my friend, is 13," replied Pascal." He stood, and with his arm around Gabriel's neck, cleared his hair from his ear and breathily whispered into it.
"Now what, darling, and have you lost your voice?"
"I don't know, but I'll cream my gown like this, I so want him... help me ," returned Gabriel in likewise hushed tones, a little distressed.
"May we know your business here, Roland?" asked Gabriel sweetly, composing himself, and mischievously rested his hands in his lap such that his erection poked his gown up, then shaking off a slipper and raising his knee, brought his bare foot up onto the wall, letting the skirt slide down his pretty thigh. Roland seeming unconscious of it, moved his hand to Gabriel's foot and held it. Gabriel slowly blinked as if forbearing some duress.
"Ah me...I am 17, 18 in some few months time. I am passing through Autignac, making for Toulon, there to sail to for the Holy Land to join my cousin in the new crusade. I do so reluctantly though, for I do not know what my role there can be. My cousin is a knight, but I do not wish to join him in combat, I love my own peaceful land, I do not wish to endure the turmoil there. I travelled from Aix yesterday, and abided here the night," said Roland, leaving Gabriel's foot and thumbing at the hostelry.
"So, you do not want to go...we have heard it is a hell," commented Pascal.
"That is so, yet what honour can there be for me otherwise."
"You can waste your time with boys ." said Gabriel, flirtatiously, with one hand atop his bare knee, whilst the other stroked his naked thigh provocatively, but didn't overdo it. What he did want at that moment was to furiously wank himself off. Roland threw his head back again in laughter.
"Yes indeed, I am very fond to do so, often. I do like boys of your ages, they are adorably cheeky and have so much charm and appetite for life and mischievous appeal. Especially am I fond of such artful cute ones, as yourselves."
Gabriel's eyes lit up and his mouth formed a circular grin at Pascal. "Ooh la la," he said, openly, giggling at Pascal. Suddenly, Pascal did help his friend.
"Come here sweetling," he said, pulling Gabriel off Roland's lap, and winked at him. Then with a stern face, as he drew him in, muttered in a hiss, " kiss, " by his ear. As if hypnotized Gabriel threw his arms around Pascal's neck and went into a French snog with him. Pascal's hands enclasped him, around his waist, then, for seeming good measure, lifted up the back of his gown till he could have his palms on the cheeks of Gabriel's bare bottom and caress them. They took breath and mewled like distressed maidens, kissed again, and then Pascal whispered in his ear.
"Alight him again now, but let me talk," and they uncoupled. Roland gazed at them in awe.
' How is this ,' he wondered, ' they're young lovers and as pretty as maidens...how they lust, the one for the other, in abject lewdness, with the sweetling in prostrate subjection, making not a move against it .'
Gabriel glanced at Roland, demurely, with a nonchalant grin, and deposited himself back on Roland's lap, who took him as though it were a surprising honour.
"Forgive us Roland, we kiss often and I am so happy he is well again...I think him is so pretty, though we are not lovers, but best of friends. He says, he more than much likes you, Roland, what say you?"
Gabriel had his knee up again, idly fiddling with his gown, wrapping it around his bare thigh, and gazed, smiling at Pascal's chatter.
"I may so say, you are both so pretty...I like you too, sweet Gabriel..."
"Then w hy are you making me wait, Gabriel asked, interjecting, "you know I want to kiss you."
Roland blushed and looked away, his mouth dropping open in a daze. Gabriel flung his arms around Roland's neck and pushed his tongue into his mouth, without further and Roland reciprocated, at first slowly, then with increasing animation and passion, they frenched hectically. Pascal smiled at them and simpered in relief. Roland's hands roved over him and caressed his body and wanted bare thigh. Gabriel, in a trice turned astride in Roland's lap, resumed the snog and shuffled up, splaying his thighs. He tugged at Roland's hand impetuously, jigging his bottom in his lap, and lifted the hem of his gown, now rucked well up his thighs. At last Roland's hand slid up one smooth and slender, pretty thigh, then right to Gabriel's vertical fritzy and stroked it in his fingers. Gabriel moaned and whined stridently with intense sexual desire and feverishly jockeyed into Roland's fingers. Roland wanked him rapidly now and tongued away in Gabriel's mouth. Hardly a minute later, Gabriel threw his head back and cried out in a long wailing groan, holding his gown up, and spunked with spurt after spurt of pungent young adolescent cum over Roland's fingers.
Gabriel was weepy and snivelling; Roland looked at his hand, and with a little snivelling giggle, Gabriel took it and wiped it with the hem of his gown. Roland nursed him close, one hand around him, the other to the side of his head held to him, and kissed his blond head.
"Is that what you mean about boys our ages, Roland," said Pascal, grinning. Roland nodded, smiling, and felt Gabriel's body reflex in a little chuckle. "He's a sexy little pansy, Roland, what do you think?"
"He's beautiful...you both are...and attired so fetchingly and prettily naked underneath." Gabriel, recovered enough sat up and kissed him.
"You're beautiful too...and I came so beautiful with you."
Roland petted more kisses on his face and laughed in a little chuckle. "Of course I can hardly believe a word from either of you, that you are on an errand in the village, dressed so, and much doubt that you, sexy young cutie, just dropped and fainted as you did. What say you, confess now."
"It is so, Roland," began Gabriel, looking down, a little remorsefully. Then Pascal piped up.
"Before we ventured here, Gabriel told me he wanted a lad's affection..." he began, and Gabriel tried to reach over and stifle him, but Pascal bobbed away and continued, between their hitching little giggles.
"...He wants a lad of 17 or 18 summers for a boyfriend, Sire Roland. He doesn't much like our master's attentions, though I do...and we were already in our gowns, on his bed, enjoying each other...then, afterwards, he persuaded me along to the village with him, to search for such a lad. Then he swooned when he saw you...there you have it Roland, he's such a naughty damsel, and I do love him. Gabriel's mouth opened in a broad smile.
"Is this all true Gabriel," asked Roland, holding him away and caressing his face.
"Yes," he replied in a subdued voice. "We've embarrassed you, I'm sorry Roland, we will leave you to your business...come Pascal, we must heed old Growler's warning." Gabriel made to remove from Roland's lap, but Roland pulled him back and embraced him.
"May I be that boyfriend for you, that you seek?"
"Oh Roland...please, yes! Say you shall Roland...you so much have to be, please." Roland kissed his mouth and they began to french again, and Roland's hand ran under his naked bottom.
Pascal gazed at them wistfully, and wondered as to how Gabriel could have Roland for a boyfriend, when Roland wasn't even attached to the court, surely they could only engage in secret trysts, and not even within the precincts of Château d'Autignac. He knew that would not satisfy Gabriel, though it might Roland. Gabriel would want this boyfriend's cock daily...nightly.
"You're so beautiful, Roland, and perfect. I'm only 13 but I would be so true to you, and honour you, and pleasure you with all my heart and body, which I give to you."
"You are a perfectly darling boy, and if I had you as my pet, I wonder how often we might be in one another's company."
"I shall have you at Château d'Autignac in my bed, and shall sleep on top of you, and make you so happy. Come, we will take you there now," said Gabriel, impetuously.
Roland, distractedly in thought, laughed and petted further kisses on him, musing on a new fate. Should he leave it up to this boy he here dallied with, newly met.
"I wonder what to do...a pretty boyfriend of 13, how would I leave you alone. I am full of sex and 17, and though I seem respectful, you do not know me. I have cried for boys and you arouse my sleeping ache for one just such as you, to have in my life."
"I give you myself...I ached for you too...I want my hole on your cock in bed...you can fock me, and fock me, and fock me...and I will eat you, and eat you, and eat you. Roland...I know I'm so pretty, I am a pansy fairy damsel boy aching for your ladcock to be never out of my hole...you will be my boyfriend, I will have you at Château d'Autignac, I will !"
Pascal had never heard or seen Gabriel in such a foment. His face lit in wonder with hand to open mouth, then applauded him. Roland nodded in a stupor, and they kissed again hectically, with his hands now disappearing up inside Gabriel's gown. Gabriel was aroused again, Roland very much was, and Pascal too at the scene before his eyes of the two of them.
Roland calmed himself and held Gabriel to sit still in his lap, then asked about them about how life was at Château d'Autignac, and gazed in its direction, a league or thereabouts distant. The boys between them told him all about their lives there, how beautiful Raymond's court was, and about their master himself, and how fair and open handed he was with his retinue and his Pages. Might he not approach the Seigneur for a position with the court, he mused. What would his father say. Should he go there with the boys as they returned.
"You can see, it is so simple," said Gabriel. "We shall introduce you to Raymond and I shall tell him that you saved my life, and that we like you so very much, and that you are good and kind and virtuous, and an excellent young gentleman to have some position at our court. Then I'll pump my hole on your cock."
Roland laughed heartily and nuzzled through Gabriel's hair to eat his neck.
"Our court ," laughed Pascal, mocking him.
"'Tis true Roland, it is our court...we are adored, we can do anything there. So I will have you in it. Come let us hasten there." said Gabriel.
"How did I save your life?" asked Roland, continuing to laugh, with his hands roaming everywhere over Gabriel's body, whilst he squirmed about most lewdly for him, wherever Roland wanted to have his hands.
"You saw a boy who was nearly dying and picked him up and nursed and soothed him till he recovered. Tis so, is it not, Pascal."
Pascal laughed at him, "if you say so, though you only swooned because Roland is so beautiful and your cock is so hard for him, and has hardly down since...so you nearly died of your cock." Pascal backed away, laughing, and Gabriel jumped from Roland's lap, and chased him about the green, both boys screaming and laughing. Gabriel brought him down and they roughed and tumbled, while Roland looked on laughing, shaking his head. They skipped back to Roland and Gabriel lifted up his gown for Roland's delectation and jumped backwards astride his lap.
Now there was day dreaming, and while holding Gabriel, reversed and slouching back against him, astride his lap, holding his gown up to his tummy, lewdly, for Roland to toy with his cock, while Gabriel stared at it, Roland began to sing a salacious, but popular song, known from the troubadours, about romantic love. The boys listened and were entranced, though Gabriel was somewhere close to heaven.
"That was beautiful Roland, you have a very agreeable voice for it," said Pascal, and Gabriel, agreed, then they clamoured for more from him. He thanked them for their praise, but demurred for the present.
"Come then, we must proceed to your home," said Roland, brightly, his imagination now filled with images of his naked pretty Gabriel, squealing in bliss under his hands. The excited Gabriel, then ventured a mouthful of salacious suggestions and offerings, before they take their leave, dutifully petting kisses on Roland's face.
"You can take off my gown and have my hole, or screw my little pansy twat in it, or I can sit my hole down on your cock, laid down on the green."
"Oh Holy Mother", exclaimed Roland, bending forward with hands to groin.
"A selection of wares, Sire Roland," laughed Pascal.
"Wouldn't you prefer me in more comfort," returned Roland.
"Yes of course and you shall have it at our home, hunky Sire." replied Gabriel.
At the hostelry, Roland and the boys got refreshments, and sat and talked some more, about their lives and who their families were. Roland then left them to attend to his belongings and trade his saddle for one more suited to accommodating himself with the two boys. The boys closed up face to face, on the long bench they'd been sat to table at, and shifted their gowns up, and crossing their thighs over one another's and frenched, arousing themselves even further, with salacious talk.
"I've got my lad," said Gabriel in a quiet, and satisfied confidentiality.
"Now you need a bed for him," returned Pascal.
"I know. Do you think we can get him in?"
"Maybe, if we're nice and wheedling with Raymond, or the Growler."
"And pretty pleases and innocence...but you'll have to, rather than me, or I'm bound to let something out we shouldn't." Then in the next breath, said, "Do you want shag on the greensward?"
"No, I have to think now for all of us, before we get back. Then your boyfriend can shag you, straight through your bed."
"And make me grow a belly." They giggled away, then frenched some more, till Roland came back. He approached and heard them mewling, then clicked his tongue indulgently for them to attend.
Roland mounted his horse, and now the boys wanted to be barefoot. They handed him slippers and he tucked them into his saddle bags, slung across the horse's rump, then hoisted them up from a block. Gabriel sat back against Roland in the saddle, and Pascal sat facing them. They were used to being horsed from time to time, but never before with a sexy lad, and only Pascal could ride, and that, only a pony. They thought the arrangement very sexy. Having their thighs now splayed out across the saddle, and the motion of the horse, quickly stiffened them again.
They trotted out at a slow pace, and Gabriel took one of Roland's hands off the reins, and put it under his gown.
"That is much politer," said Gabriel, relaxing back, and Roland began to caress him and toy with his cock. Pascal shuffled to Gabriel, but found it too precarious to have crossed thighs with him, which they liked, so he leisurely fondled himself under his gown, and they grinned at each other.
"Rolly," said Gabriel.
"Yes angel," said Roland dreamily, after some pause.
"I'm going to call you Rolly," said Gabriel, lifting his gown above his tummy to watch Roland's hand lewdly gliding up and down bare thigh, cock and tummy. Pascal exploded in giggles at him.
After they had proceeded some way along the winding track that led to the castle, Roland slowed the horse to a walking pace. They had told him of the Chamberlain's warning, and though it was past mid afternoon there would still be nearly four hours before sunset, and he wanted to make the afternoon last. He kissed his boyfriend's blond head and continued to listen to his boyish sexy prattle.
"My legs are very pretty, aren't they Rolly.
"Have you had your cock in boy's twat before, Rolly?"
"How did you like it and did he enjoy you?"
"It was just as I had been told, most exquisite. The boy was somewhat impetuous like you, but afterwards he seemed as though intoxicated, yet graceful, and smiled incessantly and rather seemed to speak in silly noises. Gabriel and Pascal giggled merrily, then Gabriel continued with his salacious questions.
"Rolly, what is your cock like?"
"You've stared enough at my crotch, can't you tell?" returned Roland, and had Pascal screaming in giggles. Roland elucidated for him.
"It is about a half longer than yours, and about half fatter." Gabriel gauged it in his mind, against what he knew of a youth's cock, and determined it was about 5½ ligne, (a little over 6¼").
"How do you like to have us – sitting up?"
"Well, all the ways, as the boy pleases – I like to kiss him, as I pleasure him."
"I knew so – sat up, kissing, while you goose his rosebud."
"Do you like to have it shafted, as you lie?"
"Of course. It is an exquisite pleasure."
"I knew so – you like to look at us shafting you.
"He knows a lot, Roland," giggled Pascal.
"Indeed," laughed Roland, tossing his head again.
"Can I turn round for you, and unfasten you."
"I think not, not as we're horsed."
"You are the most beautiful lad in the Languedoc, is he not, Pascal?"
"Aye, truly," agreed Pascal, then went on. "Shall you be his boyfriend, no matter what, Roland."
"How it now seemeth and showeth between us, pretty Pascal, is just so to its truth I think, he is quite irresistible," returned Roland, taking Gabriel's neck afresh. Gabriel was in heaven, Roland was keeping him highly aroused, toying with his cock, playing with his nipples, under his gown, and attending to his neck, whilst keeping his eyes on the track. Roland and Gabriel were fascinated by one another, but already, Roland was also besotted with him. As Château d'Autignac came nearer, Roland halted the horse to bring Gabriel off again, and Pascal masturbated. There was then 'much obscene tumult and lewdness', according to a farm labourer, who had noticed the horse, and espied them close by from behind a tree. He then later, much gossiped about them in the village.
"...They were horsed, and the lad was clutching this boy, sat saddled in front of him. The boy was wearing what looked like a maiden's under gown, same as had the other one. They just looked like sexy young tarts. I thought they was damsels at first, because of their hair and their voices, but their movements and litheness showed me they were boys. The lad had his mouth on the one tart's neck, with both his hands up his gown, and the tart's arse was going frantic on the saddle and slipping down on it. The lad seemed to be well masturbating him off under it. I kept seeing his bare thighs jigging about, and the other one was having a furious good go under his gown too. You should have heard the commotion these young tarts was making when they was coming, specially the one having it done. The boys was very pretty though, my word, yes, but they didn't see me."
At the château Gabriel called out to the guard their identities and were let through. They dismounted by the stables and the horse was taken and led away. The sundial in the courtyard showed that there was still a few hours till sunset. The boys hurriedly led Roland into an entrance chamber, were visitors were to await reception. Gabriel asked Roland to relax and that they would presently attend him, in livery, to present themselves to Raymond, they then flitted away. Roland sat and fidgeted nervously, awaiting their return.
"We're covered in spunk," said Gabriel, looking at Pascal's gown and particularly his own as they made their way to their quarters, very amused. Pascal gave a cursory glance at them and tittered, looked at Gabriel, and both erupted in giggles. Roland heard them, some way away and smiled.
They pulled off their gowns and climbed into a tub together, paying particular attention to their cocks and their rosebuds and crevices, as all the Pages did, then messed about. Two Ordinaires, Léandre and Gabriel lay on a bed, frenching, their attire open, but broke off to exchange greetings with the boys, as they dried themselves and put on their livery. Pascal asked them if they'd seen Pascal about, and as to Raymond's whereabouts. Pascal was apparently out in the woods helping with collecting woodcock, whilst Raymond was in court somewhere.
Not wishing to appear to be on offer, their hosiery was fastened, and fresh clean and rosy they returned to Roland and took him with them for an audience with Raymond. He was in the first place they sought him, his private quarters. They were given admission and presented themselves to him.
"Good day Sire," said Pascal, and they exchanged greetings. Then Raymond looked towards Roland, quizzically.
"Sire, we beg to introduce you to Roland of..." There Pascal paused and looked to Roland.
"Gevaudan, Sire," supplied Roland, "my father is a land commissioner to King Philippe Augustus, Sire."
"Good day to you Roland of Gevaudan. A land commissioner to the King, you say, well I hope the King's delineation of my territory will be a peaceable affair, for his sake.
How may we be of service to you this fine day, Sire Roland?" said Raymond, cheerfully."
"Sire, whilst about my business in Autignac village, I chanced upon your Pages here present, one of whom was suffering an illness and collapsed, which I was witness to." Roland was about to continue, when Raymond interjected and asked which page, and he indicated Gabriel, placing his hand briefly around the boy's shoulder. Raymond looked wide eyed at Gabriel in some consternation, then asked Roland to continue. Roland went on, as best as he could, about what had transpired, and Raymond appeared a little nonplussed, but from the way he questioned them, it appeared to the boys, that the Chamberlain hadn't mentioned anything about their apparel to Raymond. The boys quietly breathed a sigh of relief that he seemed unaware of this, yet dare not dissemble as to their reason for being in the village. Raymond's first concern, it seemed, was for the health of Gabriel.
"Do you ail now with an affliction, Gabriel?"
"Nay Sire, it has passed, I am presently fit and well, Sire."
"That is good news, but what was the nature of its circumstance?"
"I must have fainted Sire."
"Ah, you only fainted, that is a relief," said Raymond, then flashed his eyes askance at Roland.
"But you were concerned Roland, yes?"
"Yes Sire, I was somewhat concerned, and so returned with them to your court, for their safety."
"Ah," said Raymond, his jaw a little lax, then studying Gabriel, firming it again.
"Why were the both of you in the village, today. Were you given permission, what was your business there?"
"Sire, we beseech your forgiveness. Indeed we had leave from the Chamberlain to go there, yet we had no true business in the same. We merely betook ourselves for a jaunt and a change of air whilst we had free time to do so. He expressly instructed us to return well before sunset, and in pursuit of our loyal and trustworthy natures, we have so obeyed, Sire," said Gabriel. Pascal could feel mirth beginning to creep up from his diaphragm to his face and turned aside to smother his mouth in a most unusually high pitched cough. Raymond looked at each one of them in turn. There looked to be a smidgen of something else here, thought Raymond, but didn't know what.
"Very well, this sounds acceptable. Thank you kindly Roland for your care and attention in this matter. I treat my Pages well I think, I have great affection for them and I am very careful for their well being. Are these two, not two of the prettiest sweetlings you have ever met. I have presently sixteen, between the ages of 12 and 15, and they are all exquisite, Roland." The boys felt exquisite and blushed and their cocks felt exquisite too, though Gabriel thought they had somewhat further travails, still to deal with.
"Oh yes, indeed Sire, they honour you most assuredly. They are beautiful, though I suspect mischievous and naughty sometimes," smiled Roland, glancing at the naughty and mischievous pair.
"Oh indeed Roland, yet much of their attraction lies in the same, do you not agree?"
"Yes Sire, of course, naturally." Then Roland thought it now opportune to broach the subject of his primary business.
"Sire, your Pages here told me how splendid is Château d'Autignac and suggested I see for myself as I returned with them. Now present here, in a small capacity, I can see how true was their description. May I therefore further compliment you, by remarking on how grand your court is, Sire, though I have but seen little of it. It is beautiful, and I would greatly relish having a position in it to serve you, Sire, which I am free to do so, if something to that end were presently available.
Something latched and fell into place in Raymond's mind, though he pushed it aside. This young gentleman was being very complimentary, and flattery was much a susceptibility of Raymond's
"Thank you, yes indeed it has its own magnificence, though there are grander castles in the Languedoc, yet Château d'Autignac is sufficient for me. As to a position...I had thought for some while to appoint a steward for my Pages. They have a Chaplain but his responsibility is most importantly to fill their heads with knowledge, not to shepherd them hither and thither, nor discipline them. My Chamberlain has more responsibility in that area, yet he has many other more pressing ones too. It would be of significant help to him indeed, I think, if the charge of the Pages welfare could be separated from his commission."
"Yes indeed, Sire, it may be an irksome responsibility for him with so many other more important areas necessary for his service to you."
The boys were listening to the every word of this charmer and flatterer, and nearly floating away from the sound of the smooth tongued lad. Gabriel was buzzing inside himself and felt that if Roland kissed him again or merely touched him, his cock would explode with spunk again.
"What is your age," asked Raymond.
"I am presently of 17 years, but soon 18, Sire."
"Oh, you are still quite young, I took you for being perhaps 19. How are you with boys such as my Pages. They can be a handful of trouble on occasions, as you have pointed out." Raymond looked pointedly at the Pages and smirked, and they blushed.
"I have a great affection for them, Sire, for their happiness and good welfare. I make it my business where I can to seek them out and converse with them, be they Pages, nobility, or merely the sons of squires and the like. I feel I have great affinity with boys, Sire.
"Do you have a liking for their bodies?"
"My Lord, I would admit that I am often susceptible to their charms, but I am very respectful of them, Sire."
"I too, Roland." Roland then addressed the boys.
"So Pages, what thinkest thou, would you like to have this young man, as a steward over you?"
"I like him very much, Sire, he will be a good master for us and organize our lives well, Sire." said Pascal.
"He's adorable Sire, I would give my life to him to arrange." said Gabriel, and wanted to effuse much more about Roland, but held his tongue. Raymond tittered at him.
"It is settled then," announced Raymond, "I offer you the appointment, Court Steward to the Pages. You will be directly responsible to my Chamberlain and your duties will be to look after their well being, health, cleanliness, presentation and appearance, and their duties and appointments schedule. You will be strict with all their affairs, but you will also be their friend and counsellor, when needs arise. You shall have small quarters next theirs. I have two Pages Corporeal, one of whom, lately a novice, is Pascal here." Raymond touched him, then continued. "And eight Pages Ordinaire. I will direct my Chamberlain in the matter of your pay, and he will advise you. Do you have any questions?"
Roland crouched down and kneeled on one knee and swore fealty to him, then kissed his hand.
"Thank you m'lord, I do indeed accept your appointment, and I will honour your requirements of the position most assiduously. Sire, m'lord, I am free to take up my duties immediately, if you please, and can send for my accoutrements."
Raymond smiled and begged him rise.
"Yes by all means, start now. I shall instruct my Chamberlain to have your chamber made ready, you shall now in fact accompany me, and I will introduce you to him." Raymond, then addressing the Pages, said, "Attend with us, one or both of you. I shall then afterwards discharge Roland into your care for the moment." Addressing Roland, he added that Pascal and Gabriel would conduct him around, for introductions afterwards. The boys followed on behind, whispering into their hands, Gabriel's head floating away.
Whilst Raymond and Roland were in conference with Vathek, the Pages waited in an ante chamber. They sat closely with one another intertwined, and hatched a little ruse. Gabriel wanted to have Roland to himself a little while, after his chamber was got ready, so that he could privately give his body to Roland, and then later, when all the Pages retired to their chamber, then he would bring Roland in for introductions. That of course barring any absences that might arise.
"So you want to keep him a secret, until we retire" said Pascal.
"Yes...he is mine, and I shall make it quite plain that he is mine only. So that is best done in one session, for all of us, at the same time, don't you think?"
"Ah, yes I see, yes it is a good plan, and by chance it seems, Roland has not been seen yet by any of our fellows. I for one shall be very respectful of your wish, Gabriel. Even if he should flirt with me, I would not entertain him, but chastely steer him back in your direction. Not that he will I'm sure, nor with any of us, having you for his adoring lover."
"You may flirt with him Pascal, in any way you please, as may our fellows. He likes boys bodies, did he not tell us so...we Pages ought not disdain him. Yet flirt does not mean touch or kiss...well it may a little, perhaps. I suppose that if I discovered more than that, I would blame myself."
"You are such a sweetling, aren't you" returned Pascal.
"If you say so."
"I do, and thinkest that soon, you will drowning in his adoring compliments, that is of course when his tongue is not jousting with yours as his hands rove over your naked body." Gabriel laughed and they kissed.
The Chamberlain was somewhat surprised by what, he seemed to think was Raymond's hasty appointment. Yet he conceded that it would be a load of his hands, or at least delegated. The welcomed Roland and advised him on numerous do's and dont's. Roland's remuneration was settled, with which he was very pleased, then the immediately instructed some servants to remove and carry down, from certain other sleeping quarters, its whole contents, which were all well appointed items, with a large comfortable bed.
When the meeting was over, the boys took Roland down a little used passageway to the servants hall and had repast with him there. He queried that they seemed to be being secretive with him and made the boys divulge their little ruse, but accepted their congratulations first.
"Are you still my boyfriend, Steward, Sire," asked Gabriel, chomping on his bread and fish, then smiling sweetly, sat on Roland's lap.
"Why else would I be here, allowing myself to be scurried about in such a surreptitious manner," said Roland, smirking whimsically.
"I'm sorry...I just wanted to keep you away from the other Pages, until I introduce you to them when we're all assembled for retiring in our dormitory...and we delay here, whilst your bed is being installed. Am I being naughty...I much so wanted to have you to myself, for just a little while first...in your own quarters."
Pascal tittered and placed his hand on one of Gabriel's.
"Then I'm so blessed that such a pretty one is fretting and fritting to keep me to himself, fearing lest I engage in orgy with any half dozen or more of his fellows. As soon as I held you and kissed you, I felt a blessing. I hope you really do want me for your boyfriend."
Gabriel would have swooned again had he not been ensconced on Roland's lap. He made murmuring cooing sounds, whilst caressing his lover's face.
"I've wanted you forever," was all Gabriel said, now a little overcome. Pascal cheered them to high spirits now and spoke of how even more wonderful, Château d'Autignac would be, with their own personal older friend looking after them, and how happy he was for them both. After a little while he made a suggestion.
"I will go and see how the coast doth now lie, and report to you both shortly." With that Pascal left them and skipped off to the Steward's chamber. It was locked, but the key was in the door and Pascal opened it.
"Oh goodness in heaven ," he exclaimed, and wandered into the now well appointed chamber. The floor was covered with new rush mats. There was a large, well made up bed, with a stand by it; there were two large storage chests, a large stand, with two tablets on it for scribing with, and the stands had oil lamps on them. In one corner stood a tub with water in it, set upon another stand, and by it stood a water pitcher on the floor.
Pascal withdrew, closed and locked the door, taking the key, and looked in on his dormitory. Pascal lay on his bed day dreaming, with his tunic discarded. Pascal tripped over to him, sat down and kissed his mouth.
"Where have you been?" was the first thing Pascal said. Pascal answered, feeling uneasy, "I went off for a little jaunt with Gabriel, whilst you were in the woods...who's been gossiping?" asked Pascal looking away, then at Pascal.
"No one's gossiped to me about you. Are you on an errand or something, else let me undress you. Oh, and also, that empty chamber next us, has been furnished. I heard quite a commotion a little while ago, then looked in, it's quite elegant, I wonder who it's for, not you and I, surely."
"I know, I looked in too, and know who it's for, and I sought of am on an errand about it."
Pascal waited. "And..."
"Hush now, be patient, all will be revealed a little later, wait and see."
"What is this silly secret, Pascal?"
"Wait and see...I must go now. Don't press me and then later, I'll let you kiss me." Pascal retreated laughing, and Pascal threw a cushion at him and made to go after him, but he darted swiftly away. Pascal tried the Steward's door again and scratched his head, frowning. He dressed properly and then went off to seek some repast.
In his Steward's chamber, Roland undressed and paid attention to his hygiene. He had his personal roll with him, and with his open razor, he clean shaved his beard, and with scissors and razor, carefully attended to his pubic area, as he always did from time to time. Boys, he knew, were often impressed by their elders body hair, especially pubic. He didn't want to see himself as an elder though, a little maturer, yes, and very virile, but hairy balls and cock seemed to Roland to evince a kind of separation from hairless adolescent boys. He couldn't remember how he felt about hairiness at their age, but certainly for him now, the hairless or downy crotches of 12 and 13 year old boys hugely aroused him. In any case, he hadn't so much, and found that keeping it at bay gave more sensitivity. He bathed thoroughly, especially his nether region and pudenda, and then applied an aromatic balm preparation to his face and shaven areas.
Lying naked, propped up on his bed, he was in a reverie over his new good fortune. He fondled himself and stroked his cock up lovingly, with a lascivious smile; this will shortly be handled and played with in the sexy fingers of a 13 year old, and no doubt, be in his carmine mouth, and then it will fornicate in his sexy arse, thought Roland.
The door quietly opened and Gabriel flitted in, then locked it, discreetly holding a small flask of almond oil. He was now dressed in a clean white silk night gown which wafted as he alighted up onto the bed and stood astride Roland's legs and cast his hand about.
"Do you like it goodly Steward?" said Gabriel, surveying the chamber. Roland eyed him slowly with a lascivious grin. "Yes, very much. I liked it from first I saw it...as it wittingly or not, offered me its sexy young cock." Gabriel burst into shrill shaking giggles.
"Oh, you mean the chamber, don't you...oh I'm so sorry, please forgive my impertinence," said Roland, grinning and also shook in quiet mirth. Gabriel threw his head back and laughed the more. He collapsed down on Roland and stretched out, splaying his legs out either side of him, and now quietly grinned down at Roland, eye locked with him.
"You make dreams real, don't you," murmured Roland.
"It's my cock, Sire, anything can happen."
They began to deep french, and Gabriel squirmed on top of him, feeling the youth's hard erect cock under his groin, and the youth feeling the sexy delicious sensation of hard young boycock squirming next to his. Murmuring sounds, of sensual love satisfaction rose between them, as Roland's hands roamed over him, and slid his gown up, off the backs of his thighs, and his palms slid over the soft firm cheeks of his pertly rounded bottom. Gabriel arched and squirmed his arse into Roland's ministrations as they frenched; Roland's finger tips deftly divided his cleft and ran to and fro along its dampness. They stayed like that a while and as Gabriel caressed his face, Roland's hands journeyed over his body, and wherever Roland wanted to have them, Gabriel lifted himself or splayed his legs the wider in prostration. As they went down his thighs, he brought his legs up behind him so that Roland could even have his ankles and feet.
Gabriel rose up onto his knees, and raised an arm up through his gown, and caressed himself lasciviously at Roland, then stood up on the bed and pulled his gown off over his head, purposefully standing over him. As he did so, Roland eased down the bed, then yanked him down over his face. Gabriel saw what he wanted, and carefully squatted his naked crotch down over Roland's mouth, with his thighs past Roland's head, and closed his eyes, smiling vacantly. Now he had his perineum, scrotum and groin and inner thighs kissed and eaten, whilst Roland's hands caressed along his smooth slender thighs to his knees and back along them to his hips and bottom, and back and forth they went. Gabriel eased himself this way and that, mewling and simpering, and giving Roland every access for were he wanted to have his mouth, and now positively rubbed himself over Roland's mouth and nose.
'This is so sexy ,' thought Gabriel, ' phew, but he loves his mouth on my bare crotch, and my thighs. Ho, what perfect adoration this is...he's so frikking sexy with me, ' mused Gabriel. ' I will show him with my body, when his cock is in me, how I feel about him. '
Roland eased him up a little, to speak. "This... this is what I've wanted , more than half the day."
The boy simpered bemusedly with a little murmuring chuckle and continued squirming his crotch over Roland's mouth and nose, with deliberation, murmuring through a grin, and looked down under himself, as Roland clasped his hips. He tongued the boy's balls and flicked his tongue at his cock, then slid lips and tongue back over his balls, pushing them with his nose and sucked and kissed his perineum, pushing his nose up at it, as he flicked and licked at the boy's rosebud. The boy moaned loudly and quivered, head held high, his body undulating. As Roland savoured him, the musky exotic fragrance of damp boycrotch intoxicated him.
A young adolescent boy's fragrant sexy crotch, such as his, pressing over one's face, voluntarily bequeathing itself for enjoyment, with the smooth sexy young thighs and arse supplicating themselves in prostration by one's head...wasn't this the centre of the firmament, that, and cock penetrating through his rosebud, thought Roland.
Roland reversed him around and nosed and tongued into his cleft again and now pushed his tongue directly up through his boy's rosebud, and frenched his hole; Gabriel threw his head back, and screeched and wailed in bliss, like a maiden in anguish. His fingers seemed of their own volition to take up his cock, and he masturbated himself fervidly, whilst Roland was further stimulating him, pulling and fondling his young scrotum.
Gabriel cried out in bliss, and Roland felt the boy's orgasm spasm and jerk through his perineum, his balls and his cock, erupted with spunk.
He fell forward, open mouthed, panting and put his fingers to Roland's cock, and slid his lips down over Roland's bell, slowly engulfing half his shaft, gurgling and slurping. Roland made love to his thighs with his mouth, then hoisted him by his hips and nuzzled into his cleft again, giving it his tongued kisses, and the cheeks of his bottom, then his thighs and legs, and then releasing him, reclined back, and attended to his toes.
Gabriel's head bobbed up and down slowly and methodically, enthralled in blissful enjoyment, and simpered from happy peaceful satisfaction, sucking Roland's cock, as Roland's breath hissed and gasped. He looked down along Gabriel's sexy legs and drank in the sight, as Gabriel languorously waved them to and fro, knowing his body was adored. Gabriel's court manner was expert; he was in control.
That sense infiltrated itself to Roland and he suddenly wrenched the boy off himself, and flung him aside, on the bed, then attacked his supine body with his mouth. Gabriel squealed and giggled, with arms and legs in motion. Roland's mouth roved over him; his naval, thighs, nipples, neck, toes, his crotch again, arms and arm pits and his wagging willy, which was tumescing again. Little was being spoken, but there were the sounds of the youth in paradise, overcome with sexual joy; and the boy in utter sensual rapture.
Roland crouched to his knees and gathered him to his lap, with one arm around him and the other through his legs with the crook of his arm against the boy's perineum, and his hand to his back, and lifted him. Gabriel embraced Roland's neck and their mouths latched into deep french kissing.
Roland abruptly discarded him again, and Gabriel fell down supine onto the bed again, and whined and simpered in excitation, arching his crotch at Roland in lewd offering. When Roland was about to take him again, Gabriel flung himself at him, kissing his mouth, and pushed him down flat, and straddled his thighs across Roland's. Having the almond oil to hand, he dribbled it onto Roland's cock, gently smoothing it, then felt behind himself for his rosebud. As he did so, Roland took his wrist and pulled him down again, grinning, and engulfed his cock, and goosed him through his rosebud; minutes later another intense orgasm racked Gabriel's body.
The boy lay supine again, prostrate and heaving; Roland ravished him with kisses and caresses and nuzzled down his body again with mouth and tongue, lifting each leg in turn to savour each thigh, and sucked his toes, and then his fingers, and his ears, and stroked his hair and kissed his cheeks.
After some little rest, Gabriel then sat up, and almost solemnly crouched his hole down over Roland's cock and steadily shafted him into ecstasy.
Roland lay back hugging the boy and listened to his love murmurings and returned them, then heard some little tittering from him.
"Now what has you in mirth, pretty little darling?"
"You like so much my nether crotch to your face, don't you."
"Why yes of course...should I not so engage you, is it improper?"
"Nay it is so proper Rolly. It is so exquisite to feel your mouth eating me there. It's so sexy. I love everything you do with me, Rolly.
"I can't imagine eating any other boy that way."
"Your cock is beautiful, Rolly. It fills me up to Paradise, I would never want my twat off it if I could stay in bed with you day and night.
"You like to call it twat don't you."
"It's sexy, don't you like me saying it?"
"It's perfect, angel. You're a sexy little twat." Gabriel giggled his head off.
"Rolly, do you like my voice and the way I laugh. I try to keep it high because I know it's sexy, 'specially when I'm being impregnated.
"It's perfect, darling angel."
"But I am better for you than a young maid aren't I, because you did say you like them too.
Roland squeezed the young lamb tightly, and found a fresh place on his neck to implant a love bite, of which this boy seemed to have many, and not only from Roland's ministrations upon him. He then answered him.
"With a boy it is very special, but for me you are exquisite. A maiden is soft and her responses gentle, at least to begin with, but for me, she cannot match a boy, and she is not so as a boy is in bed. A boy is...ah...they are so more arousing. Young cock is exquisite.
Gabriel had impaled himself down on Roland's cock again, but sat still there, having the toes of one foot sucked, while lewdly and provocatively toying with himself and grinning at Roland. Then they heard a soft and cautious knock on the door, and Pascal announce himself, and Gabriel called to enter
Pascal tripped in very discreetly and closed the door, then smiled broadly at them, and saw how their situation was. Gabriel grinned at him and motioned for him to sit on the bed.
"I'm waiting to be tupped again, but he just lies there sucking my toes."
"They're sexy," drawled Roland, and Gabriel rolled his eyes heavenwards at Pascal and they grinned.
"Roland, Sire Steward," he began politely, "I merely enquire whether you can come to our dormitory presently...we are ready to meet you."
"Rolly come, we promised," said Gabriel, withdrawing himself from Roland's erect cock, which bounced as he got up to dress and Pascal eyed with a smile. Gabriel yawned and slipped his gown back on. Pascal had promised there was a surprise awaiting the Pages, and had begged their attention to await it. Roland had a momentary word with his lamb, who was brushing his hair, then followed Pascal.
A chair had been drawn up close by two beds, which had been pushed together, side by side. On the beds were variously reposed or seated the fourteen other Pages, all in their night gowns. As usual in the Pages dormitory, there was a musky aroma of pubertal adolescent sex, mixed with the raunchy odour of soiled hosiery. Some Pages were kissing while masturbating one another, or copulating together, or sat astride another, shafting his hole on him.
Then Pascal tripped in, a little ahead of Roland, and clapped his hands smartly, with a wide beaming smile, and made a sweeping gesture with his hand, as in walked Roland, smiling and nodding courteously. Pascal then introduced him to them all and explained who he was, then wormed himself between Gabriel and Aurèle who were sat up, their mouths, hands, and limbs intertwined with each other, and slapped them playfully to get their attention, as Roland seated himself.
They stared at him agog, smiling pretty smiles, and little fussy murmurings arose. Roland seated himself, and began to chat with them, and had their undivided attention; but where was Gabriel?
Gabriel ambled into the chamber, smiling a little sleepily, idly preening at his hair, and the assembly's attention wandered to him. From his gait and deportment of himself, the others could instantly tell that he had lately been much engaged in lots of sex, a feast of it, by the look of him; they all new the symptoms, and quietly tittered and smirked. Roland eyed his boyfriend very briefly as he approached, but undistracted, carried on his discourse. The assembly blinked at him and eyed Gabriel again. Pascal, with cocked eyebrows, beamed widely in mirth at his manner, and scanned his companions expressions. Gabriel, nonchalantly, as though it were his rightful and usual place, casually seated himself, nay draped himself on Roland's lap without a word, still preening at his hair, and Roland's arm enfolded him. Gabriel eyed them all with a casual little smile of triumph, then gazed at Roland, and rested into him, as he continued.
The Pages mouths fell open in confusion and disbelief. What was this gross impertinence they wondered, and glanced at Pascal for his reaction and saw it in his face. Pascal was also highly amused and gazed at the pair in wonder, then turned his look of bemused amazement on Pascal. He briefly took it in and put his arm to Pascal's neck, and leaned into him, wanting to explode in giggles.
On Roland's lap, Gabriel brought one ankle up to rest on Roland's thigh and splayed open his legs in the volume of his gown and tugged at Roland's hand, about his waist, for it to be in the folds of his crotch. Roland now paused in explaining to his assembly of Pages, what his duties with them would be. He kissed the side of Gabriel's head, then announced that Gabriel was in fact his boyfriend. He then went on to briefly explain how and when they had met, embroidering the story to suit their situation, but left out every detail that would be of embarrassment to his new darling and indeed Pascal. Gabriel, with his hand over Roland's hand fondling his aroused crotch, added his version, or rather iterated it a little plainer, and from the way he spoke, about Roland, conveyed to his companions his enrapturement.
Jaws fell open anew at this news, but there was appreciation in their faces. As Roland continued with his introduction to them, Gabriel casually raised a knee up, and let fall his gown down his thigh for Roland's benefit, to play with his erect cock, if he wanted to, whilst he addressed them. Roland drew his gown back over the boy's knee and squeezed him, making him squeak; the assembly tittered and sniggered.
Gabriel's relationship with the new Steward would now quickly become public knowledge throughout the court, so why make to conceal being sexually on offer to him, his gorgeous hunky lad, that he had seduced and brought to court. In any case, no page at court hid either his sexuality nor his relationships from anyone, let alone his fellow Pages, nor even considered doing so; yet in that last degree, how was he to impart this intimacy with their newly appointed 'Pages Steward' to Raymond, without dissembling that it had just come about after Roland's arrival. Gabriel quietly mused upon it.
Seeing how the pair were with one another, the atmosphere in the dormitory chamber relaxed, and a babble arose amongst the other Pages. They drew up to the pair, and effused at them happily, making little jokes, and there was much joyful mirth.
Roland broke into his troubadour song again, and then recited some verse, enthralling them all. Gabriel glowed and simpered on his lap with his arms around his Roland. Simon had Pascal on his lap and Léandre had Aurèle sat between his legs, eating his neck, whilst playing with his cock under his gown. Gabriel, it appeared, didn't need to assert his propriety, everything appeared to have fallen into place.
Eventually Roland called bedtime, and as the assembly started to disperse to their beds, Orvelle, one of the other older Pages, whispered something into Léandre's ear who was sat beside him. As Gabriel was about to trip along after Roland, out of the dormitory, Orvelle and Léandre grabbed him, and hauled him back. Gabriel screeched at the top of his voice and called out to Roland, but was dropped on the nearest bed and held him down.
"We'll let him go presently, Roland, Sire, we are only having a little fun with him," called out Orvelle, as Gabriel squealed and writhed about. Roland thought it not his place to be involved in the Pages bedtime games and sidled off, chuckling.
"You little pansy tart," said Orvelle, feeling up Gabriel's gown.
"Off me," screeched Gabriel, wriggling.
"The little tart's still wet," declared Orvelle, removing his hand.
"You know he belongs to Roland now, Orvelle," cut in, Simon, "so let him go."
"Yes...let me go, I belong in my boyfriend's bed now...and I like feeling his wet spunk on me.
"So our beds you do now disdain," Léandre asked, but then Aurèle got their attention.
"Let him go you two," said Aurèle, lifting up his gown and climbing onto Orvelle and Léandre, making sure he pushed his young naked crotch into one of their faces. With the attention of his inquisitors suddenly engaged with Aurèle's body, Gabriel jumped off the bed, and dashed out.
Gabriel flitted into Roland's chamber and seeing that he was apparently asleep, quickly and quietly, pulled off his gown, and climbed into his bed. Roland affected to be disturbed by the intrusion and momentarily made to turn away from him, but didn't and made a sudden grab at Gabriel and spooned into him with roving hands over his body, with Gabriel squealing with delight. He pulled Gabriel to lie flat on top of him and have his hard cock nestle comfortably in the boy's crease, with Gabriel politely splaying open his thighs, and they chatted and kissed and squirmed a little.
"Rolly, what do you like best about me," Gabriel began, "and do not say shagging and kissing me," he laughed.
"Nay, nay, two other things about you...one is your darling boyish laugh in my ears and the other, the way you walk in your livery."
"How so my walk?"
"Your pert pretty arse in motion with the impish gait of your long sexy legs in your hosiery. I can foresee that I shall be hard put to in my duties daily, keeping my hands off you."
Simon pulled Pascal into his bed, and ravished him too, and called him his sexy princess and they frenched breathlessly, then Simon rogered him.
One of the Pages favourite games, that they took turns at, which they called L'h irondelle en vol, [The Flying Swallow], was to hoist up and support a naked page, prone horizontally, face down, with splayed open legs. He was held up at a sufficient height, by a number of Pages, such that each of them could attend to an erogenous part of his body by hand and mouth. They then lavished on his body, kisses, and fondling caresses. One would hold his head, frenching him; another might suck and toy with his nipples; another, suck his cock; a taller one standing between his splayed thighs, tongued in his rosebud, with roaming hands; whilst yet another might be handling his dangling balls. If there were more than nine involved with him, others would suck his toes also, and all the while stroke and caress him. The page would quickly be rendered delirious, from sensual and sexual overload, and empty his balls in a gasping screeching orgasm, from which he either passed out, or wept from.
Then did troubadour players pass through these lands by circuit. They played the lute and sang lyrically of love and romance and valour; or recited poems. In verse, they also propagated news, or merely salacious gossip, from one court to the next and betwixt town and village alike. They could render their art in a jocular vein, or in fervent lament or simpering plainsong, dependant on mood and circumstance.
They were colourful characters and often skilled lovers and frequently urbane and handsome.
Such were found at tourneys, fairs, and feasts. They told of the news and current affairs, local and far and wide, sometimes by way of poetry and in song. And they were frequently accompanied by jongleurs, (jugglers who also performed other talents.)
One such troubadour was Tousaint a nineteen year old, well schooled in his art.
We find him now calling at the Château d'Autignac, the fortified domain set upon a high mount – now the court of Count Jocelyn of Toulouse, in the sun drenched Languedoc of high summer.
Tousaint stands by the doorway and sings and plays an ad hoc ballade in praise of the Château and its beautiful setting to no one in particular listening, receiving the nods, winks and grins of Court Pages and boys. But a few are listening and the Steward thinking him worthy to be passed inside, ushers him into is the servants hall, is given refreshment and told to await whether the Chamberlain will engage him. He is hired and requested to play and sing in court, after his Lordship's meal.
Tousaint is indeed a comely young man, and travelling in all weathers his body lithe and hardened. He causes a flutter amongst the Pages who begin to jostle one another in the little melee and disturbance., passing remarks and gossip. Will he take some mulled wine, a posset , wonder the maidens, a pretty pansy's thigh of 13 summers wonder the Pages. They giggle and chitter-chatter gaily, scampering about hither and thither in their duties, and gossip. Is he to perform, to stay, who will he take for the night. What does he like on the bed.
In their twitterings, the main subject is prick. They wonder what Tousaint;s got there.
"I'd let him have me 'een it be but 4 inches, says Valentin, feeling those arms strong around me"
"Aye, and with no looks to you, Valentin, you'll get the less, be sure," says Etienne of 12½, scornfully. "No indeed though, he'll have more than that, observe how comely and virile he is."
"Aye," says Aurèle, look at my blacksmith's lad, oh the beauty, he's of over 7 inches." The others, not in the know about Aurèle's lad, twitter and giggle profusely.
"Aye, but it's what he does with it that counts," says Valery, 13.
"Mine does as he's told," came back Aurèle, to high laughter.
"Then he has to like boys, that way – our pussy holes." said Etienne, to many 'ayes'.
"I like having my prick in your pussy, Etienne, that way," chirped up 14 year old Blaise to much laughter.
"I'll wager he likes boy pussy hole well enough, what fellow doesn't? We'll tell tonight at table. I'll try him out," says Etienne.
In the cooks gallery Tousaint sat down to his ale and pie brought him by a kitchen boy, not privy to the twittering gossip of the Pages. A plain face, yet not without its merits, and comely of frame was he – 13 year old Anton by name. Anton was indifferent to teen lads, with him, they were usually surly and full of themselves. As to cock, Anton didn't mind its gender either way and the young scullery damsels gave him pleasure enough. But if it was with another boy he'd sooner be fucked than do the fucking.
Tousaint eyed the boy waiting on him and pursed up his mouth, emitting a kissy, kissy sound, then ran his hand down the inside of one leg. Anton seemed to freeze and relax all in one instant, and smirked, stirring up into space.
"Eat your pie Sire Troubadour 'eer it gets cold, fresh out the oven they is.
"I'd rather have a kiss on that mouth, and a stroke of something else warm."
Anton wasn't the flighty type, nor huffy with favours He merely bent down and gave Tousaint his mouth, staring at the troubadour's crotch as he felt his prick start to unfurl and stiffen. He saw, what inside the troubadour's hosiery, looked like a large curved sausage and as the kiss progressed its curve became fatter and the head lifted. Tousaint broke the kiss, getting uncomfortable with his crotch. Anton grinned and sniggered.
"Take it out if you want."
"Its yours I want to see. I love boyprick."
"Aye alright," said Anton and let out his goodsome 4¾ inches. Anton bobbed for it and immediately had all of it in his mouth. Anton was electrified. He wasn't sucked much and went rigid for the occasion. At Tousaint's fumblings, Anton pulled his hosiery off his bottom.
"Phwaar," he said, and resumed sucking the boy, but treating it like a smoking pipe, spoke between sucks.
"Used to being sucked?"
"Not so much. The maidens of 11 and 12 like being fucked well enough, but won't go astray to other ways, pages I ne'er get a look in, 'cept Christmas maybe, but otherwise lads likes me if I fancy to be fucked, like you, 16 to 19 summers."
"D'ya get the maidens with belly?"
"Aye, oft as not, e'en the younger ones. They likes being catched of their bellies. And you aint come here for the likes of me, but pages, I'll warrant?"
"Aye, tis true. I have a fancy for them." Whist saying this, the troubadour quietly brought out his cock, freeing it from his hose. It lolled to the side, then as soon as Anton gave it attention to stiffened up, rigid.
"Ho oh yes, ho ho yes, nice. Oh my, goodsome, Sire," said Anton tentatively stroking on it. "I've never seen one bigger than this," he said, paying it attention as though it were a pet. They laughed and joked about cock a while, until it was time for him to perform for Jocelyn.
The troubadour performed his arts of poetry, song and rhymes, telling news too as ditties. No dignitaries were at dinner today and so he had the attention of all the pages assigned there for the evening. And as they say, first come, first served and it was Etienne bearing the wine.
The cute page found himself quickly on Tousaint's lap and as the wine flowed, so did the troubadours hands over Etienne. A cup full later and he was being fapped and kissed, sat between Tousaint's legs at the table. Jocelyn already well pleased by his performance, clapped at the speed of his seduction. By bedtime Etienne was naked at the table, engaged in mutual wanking, surrounded by the other pages. As a favour he was allowed to take four of them to his chamber, too. Every act of sex was performed there and no one got left out in the reverie. He fucked them as they fucked each other, treating Etienne with speciality and the morning brought sore anuses to some. And the troubadour rose early and went on his way to his next venue.
I hope you've enjoyed this tale of long ago from the medieval courts of my mind! Perhaps you'll meet them again. Demand it, and I will oblige.
Bye Boys and those 'others'.
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