Lanced a Lot

By Silenos69

Published on Feb 24, 2022

Gay

LANCED-A-LOT

By: Silenos

This story is a work of fiction and involves teenagers in sexual situations. If that offends you, don't read it. If you are underage, don't read it (like that's going to happen). This story belongs solely to the author and may not be copied or reproduced in whole or in part without permission of the author.

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Feedback is always gratefully appreciated: silenos69@protonmail.com

Dear Reader: If you have been following this story and do not want to kick me for the last line of this chapter you have no sense of humor. If you do want to kick me, I beg forgiveness, but I could not resist. If you have not been following the story an explanation of where it came from is after the end of the chapter.

LANCED-A-LOT: Chapter 14

The next days were uneventful in the sense there were no beatings, killings, or other acts of desperation. There was lots of sex because between our Knights, Michael, and I, there developed a rapport. We all enjoyed it and became familiar enough behind closed doors to the extent it became very casual. There was always a bucket of water, fresh rags, oils, and what not to satisfy our pleasures and clean up the mess. Between the four of us nothing was forbidden or hidden, though Gallant and Idris did want their alone time; as lovers should. Sprite joined us and became virtually attached to me whenever his duties allowed him free time (more on that later*). My word!, the contortions the lot of us got into!

In public we were the souls of propriety unless you could read the subtext of what we were speaking about. All of us would try to find a way to turn a word into a jest, or cop a surreptitious feel or pinch on a perky part without it being seen. We were still all very young and playful and such behavior only enhanced our evenings enclosed.

Though our engagements were satisfying and fun there was something nagging at me. I could not put my finger or my lance on, or in, either. I had never felt that way before until I rode into Castlemount. Certainly there had been something between my father, Brother John, and myself except that had been more familial and conspiratorial; three jolly scalawags on the roam. No place to go except the next village or town where there were fresh purses to cut. That and a general enjoyment of the pleasures of the flesh between ourselves and perhaps the odd stable boy. It had been a grand life in its own way, but different. Still, perhaps, it was too soon to tell as I had not known this new life for even a full week.

There were not that many preparations for the Wedding as the Castle inhabitants were all that were invited. I had begged a traveler to extend an invitation to the Smith, Thomas. and Agatha as he passed through their village. At this point do not ask how, I just knew they were to be a part of the future.

The Weaver Woman surprised me. Not only did she have everything I asked for ready the day after my naked walk, but she had extra hose and an extra tunic for me. Her cock badges were a work of art! I asked why she had gone to so much trouble and she said "Your Knight's gold is good, and he is soon to be a lord in this land. I seek to be kept in favor."

"What do you really mean?" I asked.

"I mean, you poor excuse for an ill timed pelvic thrust, I want the future business so I am sucking up to your boss."** We both roared with laughter because while she teased me we both knew what she said was true.

Brood approached me on one of those few days. I had not been commanded to attend the exercises since humiliating the Master at Arms. "Jack," he said, "the other boys and I need you. What you showed the other day impressed the hell out of them. None of us wants to go to battle knowing we will die just because we are whacking an equally frightened boy who knows as much as us. We may cheer the glory of battle, but we fear death more."

He took a breath but did not give me the chance to break in before continuing, this was difficult for him, "I like cunny, but will take a mouth or an arse if it helps me release. I know many here prefer the favors of boys and men. It makes no matter to me what happens in bed, what matters to me and the other squires and pages is staying alive. We are being taught how to charge with arms flailing and war cries wailing, only to be grateful for glorious death. The glory would be nice; the death not so much.

"You showed how real men fight, up close. We want to learn that. Win or lose the battle, we want to survive."

Now there was an argument I could not disagree with. So, with some reluctance, I agreed to return to the practice field but advised him I would be leaving in less than a week to return to Idris' father to let the man know of the good fortune which had befallen his son. This was actually an excuse to take advantage of the jousting "circuit" which had become popular, and lucrative, for impoverished knights of no means. Idris planned to seek them out on his way home because as a "free lance***" he could hire out and earn funds enough to, hopefully, at least put his new estates on sound footing. Not a bad plan in my book; especially as I had a mind to resume my old ways amongst the fine pickings to be had by my deft hand at these events. As a squire I would be privy to wealthy circles I had not had access to as a mere travelling jester or acrobat.

Do not judge me harshly. Thievery of my sort is an honest business. After all, I was not taking from the poor (who had nothing worth stealing anyway). Who is to say the mighty would miss the odd bauble or purse in the great scheme of things? They were but trifles to those lords, ladies and merchants. Besides; preferring stealth as my weapon, it was not as if I was beating them with a cudgel and therefore I see it as a harmless form of work.

The other reason was I had a fit on the day after the wedding announcement. They come upon me infrequently, in the form of seizures which are frightening to watch (or so I have been told) and generally in my sleep. Some would think them nightmares of hellish proportions, while Christians might call them some sort of demonic possession. They and other ignorant idiots tend to want to burn a person at the stake, or drown them, or all other sorts of nasty stupid things. Others call it having the "sight", which is probably closer to the truth. They are dreams of the future and what COULD be, not what WILL happen. However, if they show what CAN be, they can also show HOW to make that future happen. Nobody can actually foretell the future; but having a few helpful visions doesn't hurt either. The big drawback is they can be somewhat debilitating for a few days after leaving you with a sort of purplish hue to your eyes for the same amount of time. There was also the additional side effect of stimulating my already over active libido.

This particular "fit" came after a particularly rambunctious night in our apartments. All four of us are pretty versatile and like everything. On this occasion we had engaged in what was to become a particular favorite for all of us but required a tremendous amount of energy on all parts and, though we would sometimes exchange places for variety sake, the ones we were in that night would be our favorite pairings. The only other being Michael might switch to get behind Gallant who did not like his arse to be ignored too much.

Essentially I would lie on my back on the bed with my legs in the air while Idris pierced me with his lance ( the expression "My Lord" takes on whole new meanings with how well his cock fit my tunnel), Michael would sit on my weapon with Idris playing with his teats from behind, while Gallant would spear Idris from behind also reaching around to play with his teats. It is difficult to make work, but once a pace is set there is no better feeling between heaven and earth! By the time all of us had spurted, Michael usually hands free and all over my torso and face, we would be a very sweaty and exhausted pile of panting male flesh much in need of rest. None of us would wash until after sleeping as we all enjoyed our mutual man stink.

So it was on that night the dreams came, they were full of pleasures and prophecy, as well as pain. I was shaken out of it by a very concerned Michael, Idris and Gallant having returned to their own bed had woken up and returned standing by us naked and crusty, with concerned looks on their faces.

"Bug! Bug!" Michael cried as he shook me "wake up!"

My eyes fluttered open and I gasped out quietly "Oh, is it morning already?"

"Bug, you were screaming, and your whole body was convulsing and contorting. We thought you were dying." The tears of fear bled down Michael's lovely face. Obviously my secret was out, so time for truth even though my head was still swimming with dreams..., well, sort of truth as you cannot expect anyone else to understand if they have not experienced it.

I came around groggily, realizing I was covered in fresh sweat, "Sorry, this happens. Sometimes I have visions; but you cannot tell anyone. It must remain a secret between us." As I spoke I was eyeing the lance's of the knights, even though they were soft I grew stiff with a sudden hunger for them; it was that lusty side effect of the dreams I mentioned. "It is nothing to be concerned about," I continued as I rolled over on my belly and reached out, taking a cock in each hand. Whatever possessed me in my dreams and caused the randy to rise seemed to transfer from my fingers to their lances as they almost instantly grew hard and moaned at my touch. "It must remain hidden." As much as I needed to preserve my secret for my own well-being there was an urgent need of the moment to be fulvilled. "Michael, fuck me!" I commanded. He was on me and in me in an instant, right to the hilt, three balls caressing my two as he began to pump into me slowly.

Gallant and Idris moved closer so I could lick their juices and suck them alternately bringing excited yelps of pleasure from both. There was an energy, a mutual need, to spend that was almost desperate, as Michael picked up speed and began to pound into me like an animal, causing my own lance to rub against the pallet under me.

It felt like forever, yet could only have been a minute before all of us were coming with an incredible intensity. Michael howled and thrust hard and deep one last time as he blasted into my guts and the two knights shot simultaneously into my open mouth and on my face as I spent into the pallet.

Weak kneed and reaching for every breath Gallant sputtered "what was that?"

"It comes with the visions," I whimpered. "On waking my body demands release and the sustenance of others."

"You should have these dreams more often!" exclaimed Idris with a grin as he held on to Gallant for balance.

"Ngh," grunted Michael who had collapsed on my back. "What do these dreams tell you?" He muttered.

I sighed as I drifted to sleep. "I cannot reveal what I have seen but what I can say is this: one day a great bard will write this truth for us `everything is gonna be alright.'"

*Bug goes on about him later. This was my insert.

**Reader: Obviously this is not what she said, but in translation to modern English it is as succinct as I can get.

***Yes, that is where the term comes from.

This tale came to me from a wealthy friend who found it bound in his family's extensive bookshelves. Nobody could read it as it was in a strange hand and written in a mix of the common tongue and Norman French of its day. His family has lived in the same place, if not home, for centuries and are what one might consider landed gentry. My friend brought it to me in hopes I might be able to transcribe it into the English of our own time as that sort of thing is what I do. I have updated it only in that I have made such things as measurements, expressions, and such understandable by our reckoning today. What I found in my labors was quite startling. It would be wise for the reader to remember that mores were different then, and that the perception of "age" was as well. Average life expectancy was about 33 years, and people were smaller too, the average height being about 5'7". Insofar as I can tell these pages were written after the Norman conquest, but not by much. England, Scotland, Wales and Cornwall were all very much their own kingdoms, with petty kingdoms within, and Vikings could still be something of a nuisance in some parts even though history says their terror ended in exactly 1066.

Next: Chapter 15


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