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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The following 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 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 1066.
Feedback would be gratefully appreciated: silenos69@protonmail.com
LANCED-A-LOT: CHAPTER 1:
I had been running by night, but on the third day I felt safe enough to walk without cover of darkness, as I was far enough from the town to feel secure was no longer anyone pursuing me. So secure, in fact, I felt safe enough to walk on the road rather than follow it and if someone should come along I could easily escape into the brush and woodland bordering it.
The morning was blazing hot; I was thirsty, hungry and tired. Pausing in the road I thought I'd heard something and indeed I had. The babble of a brook, water, joy. Stepping off the road I followed my ears through the thick wood coming to a small clearing with a grassy bank along what appeared to be a large brook or stream, wide enough to prove an obstacle to crossing but would not provide passage for a boat larger than a skull.
Hiding my rather heavy purse and satchel, then kicking off my sandals, I plunged into the cold stream fully clothed (not that I had much more than a tunic) where I swam and drank with enthusiasm; my father had once sworn he thought I was part fish. Pulling off my few garments leaving only my belt and knife around my waist. I wrung the clothing out and emerged from the water to drape them on some bushes to dry. Only then did I remove the knife and belt which I hid under the edge of the bank before plunging back in to the refreshing stream where, at its deepest the water came no higher than my chest.
I shall digress for a moment to account for myself. Theoretically the only eyes to ever read this will know me; however, experience has taught me theory often has no basis in reality. So, for the unfamiliar: At the time this small saga begins I was thirteen and had reached my full height of 5'the previous summer, as had my manhood reached its full length of 6.5" when erect, though its thick girth made it appear smaller wjen soft. I was slender of build but taught of muscle, with an androgynous countenance allowing me to pass as a pretty girl when needed, my hair was a long, dark, and silky, and my eyes were almost black with long lashes. Whatever my looks, I knew the women envied my eyes, while men and boys lusted for me as much as I for them. I had no problem with the fair sex, they just were not fitted with the accoutrement I preferred. Most significantly my ears are somewhat pointy, which I made it a point to cover with my hair or a cap whenever possible. They are just ears, but superstitious louts lurk everywhere and I had no desire to be burnt as a demon because of them.
My mother, I am told, she was a Traveller Witch who left me with my father and disappeared back into the Welsh hills as soon as I was weaned. My Father, and his companion Brother John raised me. While Da taught me the ways of survival, acrobatics, jestering, juggling, cut pursing, and other nefarious pursuits. Brother John gave me letters, numbers, logic and cunning (being a fallen monk he had those talents). As I grew we would follow the markets, festivals, tourneys and whatever events drew people to towns, there we would make money by performance and theft, or a combination of the two. We were wise enough to not outstay our welcome.
Brother John and my father taught me other things, not the least of which was how to pleasure men and boys. They started me young, about the time I was discovering my loins and its pleasures, but without the wet results. Being the age I was and the randiness that goes with those years, those skills would serve me well and with no complaints by me. The fair sex was all well and good, but I will take a sturdy lance over a thimble any day of the week. I had other talents which will become clear as I reveal more of my adventures.
I enjoyed the coolnes of the water and began repeatedly ducking of my head to rinse my hair blocked my hearing and sight, which was why I failed to notice the approach of a stranger behind me. "Ahem!" he cleared his throat at my back causing me to almost jump out of my skin. Spinning around to face him I quickly began to move for my knife, he threw up his hands, smiling "I mean no harm! I just sought to find the stream and found you bathing. Which, I must say looks like a splendid idea on a day like this. May I join you?" Without invitation he began removing his few garments, letting his sword drop to the ground.
Obviously a knight, the man must have been about six feet tall, long and brilliant blond hair, blue eyes, and the sort of chiseled features that made maidens (and boys like me) swoon with desire. I stepped back, deciding this god was no threat and felt my cock rise as his garments fell, revealing an astounding, almost hairless, mountain of muscle. A thick yellow bush surrounded a meaty looking lance that must have been about six inches in its tumescent state. "Errr, um, not at all Sire" I managed to stutter out.
"Oh!" The man stood up straight, now completely naked and glorious. "How rude of me not introducing myself. I am Sir Idris of Abgersilly, currently knight errant." The last bit he sort of mumbled, not surprising. Knights are pretty useless to begin with, but unemployed ones are worse as they tended to be arrogant leeches. Errants never had to beg because they could take and not call it stealing being, after all, Knights worse than those who were landed as they at least sometimes paid for what they took.
"Who are you?" he asked through a bedazzling grin as he charged naked into the water; his lance half raised for battle.
"My, um, friends call me Bug Sir." I muttered as he surfaced and shook his hair from his face. I was surprised he was clean shaven.
"Bug?" He laughed, "What sort of name is that? Bug? Where are you from Bug, where are your people? Aren't you a bit young to be out here on your own?" he splashed me playfully smiling.
"It is cause I stick to things, and can wriggle into small spaces and I will have you know I am sixteen summers." I lied, having only 13 at the time. Though, if not for my height, I would be taken for 11.
"You hardly look it Bug Boy, in fact, you barely even look like a boy." He splashed me again, "and what of your people? Why are you alone in this evil forest?"
"My people met a sad end in the last town I was in, we were there as acrobats performing on market day, and my father met with a sad end over a wager dispute. I fled so as not to be sold in settlement of his debt." Sort of true even if Da had been at the end of a rope. All because of a silly, if rather fat, purse I'd snatched. The outcome would probably have been the same if it had been full or coppers, or silver, but this one was stuffed with gold.
"What was the wager for?" Idris laughed, splashing again.
"Me, and my father lost. Would you stop doing that Sir?" I was becoming annoyed, for a peasant like me to splash back could mean a death sentence. He stood up straight and putting his hands on his hips he pouted, eyes all a mischievous twinkle.
"Look Bug, I have been stuck in a rancid castle for eleven years until my knighthood last week. I have had little fun in all that time. There is no one else about, can we just have fun as boys are wont?"
Looking him over I could see he did not lie. "Well, if you promise you won't take off my head." I tentatively splashed at him.
"Oh, I'll take your head alright!" He broke out in a smile as he leapt at me. After that it was a melee of two as we wrestled and churned in the water. I was pleased he seemed to be feeling my body as much as I was his in our tussling. Both our members were saved from complete erection by the cold waters of the stream, our exertion, and our laughter. Finally, he pulled away, panting.
"Enough!" He cried, "you have worn me out! You quick and slippery bug." Laughing he turned and climbed onto the bank, providing me a good view of his taught, delicious, arse as he picked up his sword before collapsing a little way up and on the grass.
Seeking no invitation I followed, grabbing my belt and blade along the way. "Ha! Now I know you for a liar," he laughed again, what a great, lovely, bellow he had. "You cannot be sixteen, you've no man hair yet." He was on his back, propped up by his elbows, as he watched me.
"That, sir," I mock bowed before collapsing beside him, "is because I shave my nethers."
"You what? Seriously, whatever for?"
Collapsing on the soft green I replied, honestly, "I have no love of vermin, sweat and grime down there. All make me itch. Plus, my sometimes bed companions, do not care to spit out hairs when the night is done and I have had my morning come."
Idris roared again, slapping my thigh companionably "Fair play to that." Suddenly he paused, cocked his head in thought before saying "You know, that makes perfect sense. Perhaps I should do that? After all, who would know but my intimates, and surely it would please them too."
The sword between my legs perked up and sent a message to my head saying: "When opportunity knocks, open the damned door!" I decided to do just that.
"I could help you with that if you like. It is better to have someone else do it, less chance of cutting yourself."
"You are a barber too?"
"I'm many things," I scurried to my bag for my shaving knife and oil than dashed back to kneel before him as he stood.
"What do I do?" He asked.
"Put your hands on your hips and spread your legs a bit, I'll do the rest." I sputtered eagerly. I took his hardening lance in hand as it stiffened to a thick 7", he caught his breath. "Don't worry about that, makes it easier." I instructed as I slicked up his hefty cock and balls.
Though I made quick work of it I stroked his shaft and tenderly fondled his nuts as I did so, causing him to quiver and whimper, his engorged member drooling profusely. It was now or never, I laid the shaving knife down and fondling his orbs in one hand, took him to the hilt into my throat.
"Oh YES!" He squealed. With my free hand, slicked with the oil, I reached between his legs and probed his manhole, pleasantly surprised as a finger easily slipped in. He groaned in delight, grabbing my head he thrust forward and began pumping his member in and out of my mouth and throat. Our enthusiasm indicated how long it had been for either of us and he was soon unleashing heavy bolts of his milk violently down my throat. "By the gods! Yes! Yes! Yes!"
Pulling back and out through my lips as he softened, I stopped him from going too far by clasping one of his firm, round, cheeks in order that I might clean him with my tongue.
"Oh my," he panted, "That was a pleasant surprise."
"A pleasant surprise indeed." Growled a voice from behind him.