Chapter 4 - The virgin page

            Alexander strode over to his chair and took another slug of red wine. He was starting to feel nicely intoxicated. He might even partake of some of the potion himself in a moment. It was clearly a strong batch, he mused, as he turned to look at the dazed lad sprawled on the floor in front of him. Either that or he was just a fucking light-weight bitch boy. He chuckled grimly. Yes, that was probably more like it.

            He kicked off his leather boots and made his way back over to the servant lad. He lifted one burgundy-stockinged foot and pressed it against the boy’s bulge – firm and erect once more as a result of the inhalation of the potion. He rubbed it back and forth as the little slut lay there, moaning in an agony of ecstasy.

            “How are you feeling, bitch?”

            A little drool escaped from the side of Will’s mouth. “I feel woozy, Sir. And weak.”

            Alexander nodded sanguinely. “Well, yes, that’s the effect of the potion. How else you feeling? You feeling turned on? Horny?”

            The boy’s face crumpled helplessly. Even in his plainly erect state, he couldn’t bring himself to admit how aroused he was feeling. Pathetic virgin bitch, thought Alexander.

            “Take your jerkin off,” he ordered the boy. “That’s an expensive garment and not one for rolling around on the floor in.”

            Will clambered onto all fours and then to his feet. He was reluctant to obey, knowing that the removal of his jerkin would leave him totally exposed.

            “Do it, bitch. I’m getting mightily tired of having to repeat everything I tell you. Perhaps I should send you back to your bed and summon that pretty little kitchen-maid up here to take your place. I’m sure she’d be only too happy to sacrifice her tender body to save your pussy boy ass.”

            That did the trick. “No, Sir, please don’t do anything to Jane! I’ll do as I’m told, I promise!” And the lad struggled out of his tight jerkin, completely exposing his torso, rivulets of sweat dripping from his body and beginning to moisten the waistband of his tights.

            “You’d do well to remember that, boy, as we continue our training together. The moment you displease me you’ll be sent back to your bed and I’ll have the girl up here and I’ll do everything to her that I’ve done to you – and worse. Far worse. You see, I don’t really care for girls, so any punishment I might mete out to her would be far more … clinical. You understand me, slut?”

            Will nodded desperately. “Yes, Sir. I understand, Sir.”

            “Good. Maybe there is some hope for you after all. But you’ve got a hell of a long way to prove it to me.” Alexander narrowed his eyes as he surveyed the boy. “Take your pumps off too, bitch. I want you standing in front of me naked apart from those oh-so silky tights clinging to your boyish body and that leather collar round your neck to remind you you’re just a fucking slave. My fucking slave.”

            Will did as he was told. He stood before his master in his stockinged-feet: the blue material of the hose clinging to every curve of his legs and ass, and his cock jutting out like a tent pole from the silken fabric.

            Alexander approached again and grabbed the waist-band of the boy’s tights. “I want these,” he snarled, “pulled up TIGHT!”

            With both hands and with some force, he yanked up the page-boy’s tights, forcing the silken material to disappear right up the boy’s arse-crack. Will gulped in pain as his arsehole felt the material cut into it, but he remained silent. The last thing he wanted was for Jane to have to suffer this humiliation at the hands of their master.

            Alexander inspected the boy’s ass and seemed satisfied that the tights were now being worn right up his crack.

            “Those are some pretty little titties you have, bitch-boy. Bet you’d like to have your girlfriend playing with those, wouldn’t you, eh?”

            He reached out as if to prove his point and grabbed each of Will’s nipples. “Tender are they?” he asked, mockingly, as he slowly began to twist the delicate boy-flesh.

            “Ah-ah-ah,” gasped the boy.

            “Hurts, does it? But your cock is telling me a different story. That boy bulge is very excited. Maybe you should take some more of the potion to take your mind off the pain…”

            In a flash, Alexander had produced the little phial and once again, it was forced under Will’s nose. The familiar wooziness assailed the page boy and suddenly the pain in his sore nipples seemed to lessen and become a more pleasurable kind of agony. He moaned slightly. “Mmmmm…”

            “You know, bitch,” said Alexander. “I’m getting kind of tired of hearing your voice. I didn’t bring you up here for your conversation. I think we need to muzzle you.”

            Will barely registered what was said to him, still over-powered by the potion and its arousing effects. His veins throbbed as he felt Alexander forcing a kind of thick leather ball between his teeth. He made to moan, to protest, but the gag effectively muzzled him. Quickly and efficiently, Alexander fastened the leather strap behind the boy’s head.

            Humiliated, Will felt more like an animal than ever: a horse now with the bit between its teeth. Furthermore, he couldn’t swallow properly, so before long the accumulated saliva began to escape from the side of his mouth and ropes of drool started to drip onto his chest.

            Alexander laughed mockingly. “Look at the pathetic queerboy in his tights! Can’t even swallow. Drooling all over his chest. Dirty little bitch.”

            But all Will could do was stand and stare, helpless as the spittle flowed from his lips.

            “Rub it into your chest, slutboy,” ordered his master. “I want to see you fondling your tits and playing with yourself…”

            Another hit of the delicious potion and soon Will found himself doing as he was ordered, his body undulating to the rhythm of his pounding heart. What was in that devilish brew?! It seemed to be changing Will’s personality – opening doors into his inner soul that he would never have believed possible. Almost instinctively he knew how Alexander wanted him to appear: womanly, whorish, slutty. He tweaked his nipples, and rubbed the saliva so it mingled with the sweat accumulating on his chest. He bent his knees and stuck his bottom out in the most lascivious way he could imagine, undulating it obscenely as his own hands fondled and groped at his bubble butt through the slippery fabric of his tights.

            “That’s it, bitch boy,” came his master’s voice. “Dance for me. Dance for your daddy. Stick out that tight slut’s ass and wiggle it for your Tightsmaster.”

            Alexander had partaken of the potion as well now, and he groped his massive cock through his dark red hose, massaging it as he watched his slave-bitch performing for him, as he felt the potion take over, relaxing, freeing, intoxicating…

            Will was becoming ever more aroused, and finally, the moment the cruel Alexander had secretly waited for arrived. The unsuspecting page boy’s hand reached down to his crotch and began to rub at his stiff cock.

            Everything happened in a whirl for the peasant lad.

“Did I tell you you could touch your prick, you stinking little tart?” demanded the older man. “What did Yorick tell you the day you arrived here in the castle about playing with your boy-cock?! Oh you’re really for it, now bitch boy.”

            Will found himself lifted into the air, and slung over Alexander’s shoulder as if he were a mere sack of grain. The struggling brat’s sweaty torso dangled precariously over his master’s left shoulder and Alexander kept him in place with his muscular left arm. Meanwhile, he slowly pushed two thick fingers of his right hand into the crevice of the lad’s sweating arse, feeling the delicious moistness of the lad’s blue tights as they clung indecently to the boy’s bum. The slightly damp tights felt so good against Alexander’s bare flesh, and he felt Will’s erection pressing into his shoulder blade. He was only light and, besides, he didn’t intend to carry the bitch very far.

            Pulling aside a heavy drape that separated the chamber in two, Alexander deposited the boy onto the mattress of his ornate four-poster bed. Will fell from his master’s shoulder and bounced onto it. This was it, he thought. Whatever men do to each other, that’s what is going to happen to me now. A fresh wave of apprehension came over the unfortunate young page boy.

            “Lie still, bitch,” Alexander instructed him.

            By now, Will knew better than to disobey.

            He was forced to take another slug of the disorienting potion, and as he lay there, his head spinning, he felt silken cords being tied around his wrists and ankles, and then with a tug, each of his limbs was gradually pulled and then secured to the posts of the bed.

            Alexander looked down in satisfaction at his handiwork: this beautiful bitch boy, dressed only in his silky, figure-hugging blue tights, his leather slave collar secured around his neck, writhing in the grip of the sexual potion, his muscles straining against the inescapable bondage: spread-eagled and totally at his mercy.

            Alexander climbed onto the bed, and his wandering hands were all over the slave boy. He stroked the muscular legs, enjoying the wonderful sensation of feeling the boy’s tense limbs, stretched in their obscenely revealing tights, beneath his strong palms. He crouched over the boy and licked and nibbled at his armpits and vulnerable nipples as the defenceless slut-toy moaned impotently into his gag. Kneeling between the boy’s spread legs, he kneaded and caressed Will’s impressive thigh muscles through the kinkily sensual material. With a single fingernail, he traced his way up the boy’s body, starting at the oh-so ticklish feet, encased in their bright blue stockings, circling around the straining boy cock, briefly pausing to titillate the pink protruding nipples and eventually resting to stroke the boy’s now wet golden locks.

            He reached for a nearby napkin, lying conveniently beside the bed. Then he tipped a goodly amount of the potion onto the material, letting it soak into the fabric. Grabbing yet another cord, he used this to tie the rag around Will’s face.

            “No choice, now, bitch boy,” he purred. “No fresh air anymore. You can only breathe in the potion. Can you imagine the frenzy of lust that this will drive you to?”

            Will moaned weakly as the vapour coursed through his body.

            Alexander laughed harshly. “Oh you’re completely under my control now, tights slut. Just look at you. So vulnerable. So humiliated!”

            And with that, he pulled a long cord that dangled from beside him, and the tapestry that appeared to be pinned to the bedchamber’s ceiling, fell to the floor, revealing a vast mirror, reflecting the debauched scene in the Steward’s room.

            Will looked up, only to see himself exactly as Alexander had described him. The pounding of his heart rose to a crescendo. He saw his young, lithe limbs stretched to very near their limit – just enough give in the ropes to allow him to struggle impotently – all for the greater sexual satisfaction of his tormentor. And then – a merciful release, as the boy felt his ankles being released. Was that it? Was Alexander’s cruel torment over? His eyes widened, and the Steward almost seemed to read his mind.

            “Oh, no, bitch. This is only the beginning.”

            Keeping Will secured at his wrists, Alexander carelessly tipped the lad’s legs so that they went over his own head and his hosed feet dangled either side of his ears. Will felt immediately vulnerable in this degrading position – his pert ass invitingly hanging on display for his superior’s entertainment.

            Alexander reached in for a quick squeeze of the boy’s balls, and then produced a large leather paddle.

            “You need a spanking, boy, to teach you some manners,” he leered. “And I’ll take a ‘thank you, Sir’ after each stroke…”

            Will felt the warm leather being rubbed tantalisingly over his silk-clad buttocks as a warning for what was to come. He’d been beaten before of course – mainly by his father and occasionally by his older brothers – but these had been brief, brutal occurrences; this spanking promised to be far more erotically charged. His cock pulsed inside his tights in anticipation of having the other man spanking his boy arse.

            The first blow landed on his left cheek – painfully accurate, and Will jolted from the surprise.

            “Unk oo, er,” he attempted to say through the gag and the potion soaked rag.

            Another blow – this time on his right buttock.

            The third was a bull’s-eye on his swollen balls, which made him scream into his gag before he uttered the obligatory thank you.

            And so it went on.

            Alexander was something of an expert – and no blow directly repeated a previous strike: they landed on his reddening bottom, his upper thighs, his cock and balls, and most humiliatingly, on occasion, directly on his arsehole itself.

            “Oh, we’ll get you nicely warmed up!” came the promise.

            The pain Will could deal with – he knew he would be sore in the morning. It was the dreadful realisation that even as he was used as the plaything – the boy-toy of the wicked Alexander - his cock just got harder and harder as it begged for release.

            “And forty!” cried the Steward jubilantly.

            With that, he tossed aside the leather paddle and threw his body on top of the lad. He reached around and untied the gag and removed both that and the potion-soaked material. And the joyous reward for Will – again to feel that strong, masculine tongue darting in and out of his mouth, the bristles of Alexander’s beard against his smooth cheeks. Will could not help but respond.

            “You’re really hungry for it, aren’t you, bitch?” taunted the older man, deliberately withdrawing his mouth so that Will was left struggling, his red tongue lapping at the empty air. The potion seemed to remove his free will, and all he needed and desired right now was to have his master’s tongue probing deeper and deeper into his gaping mouth.

            “Well, I think we need to fill another of your holes, boy…”

            Draping the page boy’s sweat-soaked, tights-clad calves over his shoulders, Alexander began slowly to lower the waist of the garment. Tantalisingly, he began to expose more and more of the young flesh encased within the tights. Rolling down the waistband, the faintest scattering of pubic hair appeared, but the Steward ensured that Will’s rock hard dick remained encased within the sensuous constriction of his hosiery. Instead, he eased down the back of the boy’s sodden blue tights, to reveal the peachy bum, red and sore from the beating it had received: the silky material having provided no cover from the brutality.

            “No, please, no,” Will began to moan, his head still swimming from the after effect of the potion.

            “Shut up, fuck toy!”

            And to sedate his less than willing victim, Alexander re-tied the potion-soaked rag.

            Will again felt the erotic inducements of the vapours, so the sensation of his tights being slowly rolled down just below his arse-cheeks, followed by that of thick, masculine fingers, dripping in some gloopy oil fondling his butt, couldn’t help but arouse him.

            And a low whisper in his ear: “I’m going to enjoy this, tights slut.”

            Will tried to move from side to side, but with his spread arms still tied fast to the bed-posts, and his legs firmly positioned over his master’s shoulders, his writhing was ineffectual. Little did he know, his wriggling was serving only to turn Alexander on all the more.

            The older man savoured the moment: his oily finger teasing the naked, puckered hole of the virgin brat: stroking and caressing, until finally he pushed his finger into the yielding crack.

            “Ahhh!” Will cried out: the shock of penetration combining with the humiliation of being tied and utterly unable to prevent his body being invaded in this most intimate way.

            But Alexander showed no mercy. He pushed further in, first one finger, then two, diddling the virgin boy-pussy, and encouraging it to swell and open for him.

            And then, just as suddenly, his fingers withdrew.

            Will gasped in relief as the cool air blew against the gunk that nestled in his asscrack. But the respite was momentary. A few seconds to adjust his position and to smear more of the oil onto his own cock, and Alexander had returned, and this time the blunt pressure at Will’s arse came from a far larger source.         

            The page boy gritted his teeth as his master’s prick began its entry into his body. He could do nothing. There was no escape, no release. Just the obscene feeling of being entered, being raped by the older man. His cock had begun to flag but now the combination of sensations: the evil potion, his wet tights clinging to his groin, and now the swelling of his hole as his master began his onslaught – and his dick once again began to harden.

            This occurrence did not go unnoticed.

            “You’re enjoying it, bitch. Like I knew you would.”

            Will was not the first virgin Alexander had fucked, but, jesus, he was one of the sweetest. That yielding hole. So tight, it practically clamped its way down on his throbbing cock as the lad’s body was raped.

            “Fuck, yes. You dirty little slut. You’re loving it, aren’t you? Loving taking my meat right up your filthy little hole. Look at you! Tied up in your tights! Your pathetic little cock is straining against your hose at the thought of a real man’s dick inside your body! I can see the pre-cum gathering through the fabric. Feels good doesn’t it? My cock rammed deep up your ass – your legs and cock  encased in those silky, sensuous tights. Oh you’re gonna be fucked long and hard, bitch boy! This is one night you’ll never forget!”

            And once more Will began to moan. A pathetic, whimpering sound. He repeated over and over: “Please, Sir, please, no… please don’t do this to me…”

            But Alexander just laughed and fucked him harder.

            What a beautiful sight, the master thought. A ripe chicken ready to be plucked. A slutty bitch-boy, totally unaware of how sexy he looked, legs spread in the air, tights clinging to those divine muscles. And driven crazy with lust as the potion coursed through his body.

            In, out, in out. The fuck went on. Longer, harder, and each time Alexander felt he was about to come, he slowed the onslaught, denying himself that final release. The boy’s cunt must be getting very sore now, he thought to himself in grim amusement. Well, so fucking what if it was? It didn’t matter to him.

            “You’re nothing, boy. You’re just a piece of meat to me. Something to use and abuse whenever I see fit. You’re a fucking slave toy. A couple of holes for me to stick my prick in whenever I’m feeling horny … and then tossed aside until I’m ready to use you again. What are you, bitch?”

            Will mumbled something.

            “Speak up, slut!”

            Anything to stop the fucking, Will thought. Anything, I’ll say anything. The pain in his hole was too much. Alexander’s massive cock was splitting him in two…

            “I’m your slut, Sir. Your tights bitch. Use me, Sir, please, use me…”

            Hearing this, his master could hold back no longer. Letting out a rasping cry, he came and came again, wave after wave of ecstasy, spurting, flowing, flooding the boy’s hole. Will’s body trembled as it was filled by his master’s semen; the fluid rushing into his deepest parts.

            Slowly, breathing deeply, Alexander withdrew his cock. He knelt back on his heels, and lowered the boy’s blue legs so they were spread either side of him.

            “How do you feel, boy?”

            The lad gibbered. His body too shocked, his mind too intoxicated to reply.

            “Your cock is hard. Would you like me to pleasure it for you?”

            Will’s brown eyes widened even more, and he nodded mutely.

            An evil grin from Alexander, and his hand reached forward, slowly rubbing the boy’s modestly sized cock through the silky material of his tights. It would not take much now, thought the Steward, the boy’s been straining at the point of orgasm for some time.

            Will bucked his hips up to meet the tender touch of his master. His cock desperate for release.

            “You insolent little slut!” snapped Alexander, abruptly withdrawing his touch and slapping the page boy’s face. “You dare to think that I would condescend to pleasure you? Oh you have a lot to learn, tights bitch! You’ll be punished for your presumption!”

            “I’m sorry, Sir,” Will stammered. “I thought -”

            “Silence!”

            The Steward looked around the room. “Now, for a suitable punishment…”

            He strode over to the chest of drawers and, hidden from Will’s view, he withdrew an object from within. Striding back to the bed, he resumed his position kneeling between Will’s legs. “Do you know what this is, bitch?”

            He produced the item: it was cone-shaped and made of leather: narrow at one end, it soon widened at its base. Will had never seen anything like it. He shook his head.

            “I’m going to insert this little toy into your butt, bitch. And there it will remain. It will plug you and make sure that my cum remains deep within you: a permanent reminder of the subjugation and servitude of your lowly position here in the castle.”

            Will felt tears well up in his eyes. The plug was monstrous. He could not imagine having it inside him and retaining it at all times. Alexander cared not a jot. Again, the oily goo was produced and liberally smeared over the leather cone. And once again, Will found his sore and swollen hole stretched as the object was pushed into him.

            “Aargh!” he cried.

            “Just relax, boy, and let it in. It will be much easier if you don’t fight it.”

            Will’s anus pulsed as the plug pushed deeper and deeper, his body swallowing the hateful thing: no choice, no release, as Alexander tormented him. Wider and wider it grew, till Will felt sure his body would tear. And then finally, some kind of relief, the plug slipped in, and his arse closed again, leaving only the flared flange at the base of the plug, protruding obscenely from between his asslips.

            He barely registered as his wrists were untied. All he could think of was the big leather plug, filling his anus, sitting inside him like a great heavy lump.

            “Stand up, boy.”

            Tentatively, his legs shaking, Will slid off the end of the bed. The rag had been removed, but the wooziness of the potion persisted. The weight of the plug shifted within him as his body moved position, and the size of it meant that to accommodate it properly, he had to bend over slightly, pushing his bottom out in a provocative pose.

            Alexander pulled up the waist of the boy’s tights and stood back to admire his handiwork. The trembling boy slut, arse fucked raw and now stuffed with a crude leather butt plug. His beautiful arse and legs outlined in the sweat-stained bright blue tights that clung to his lower regions. What pleasures the lad promised. And this night had been only the beginning…

Chapter 3 - The Steward's Potion

Alexander Courcey, chief steward of Lord Geoffrey’s household, sat sprawling in a large oak chair, amongst an array of plush cushions. He wore a thick heavy gown: dark purple and embroidered with gorgeous gold thread. He had not belted it up so it flapped open, exposing his broad, bare, muscular chest, covered with a fine down of hair, as black as the luxuriant locks that flowed from his head. His strong, lean legs were encased in rich burgundy hose that felt damned good against his well-defined flesh. Meanwhile, his pride and joy – his long thick cock - lay coiled like a cobra within its pouch, confined for now within the silky material.

He caressed his nipple idly and took a long swig from the goblet of red wine beside him. He spread his legs, gave his crotch one good squeeze and called out: “Enter!”

The heavy oak door opened tentatively and Alexander watched with scornful amusement as the newcomer entered his room.

His cock twitched involuntarily at the sight. Damn, but the boy was hot!

Alexander had barely believed his good fortune a week ago when he’d stumbled by chance upon this jewel amongst the pig shit and swill of the measly village at the foot of the hill. And to see him now, scrubbed up and pristine, golden hair washed clean and flopping in a fringe over his eyes in a most alluring manner; big, brown puppy dog eyes; and full, pouting lips just dying to have a hard prick forced between them. And as for the body…

The boy was short – but what he did have was perfectly proportioned. A smooth, boyish chest, just beginning to burgeon with more manly muscles from his work in the fields; well defined arms that would bulge nicely when tied behind his back; and, Jesus Christ, those legs! Perfectly formed, muscular thighs and calves, planted a little distance apart and completely encased in silken blue tights. The cock not large but at least there was a perceptible bulge there – and to be honest, Alexander’s interest in that particular part of the boy’s anatomy was limited to say the least.

The boy gazed at Alexander in mute supplication, unsure of whether or not to speak. “Sir?” he asked, eventually. “Raymond told me you wanted to see me.”

Alexander ignored him. “Turn around, boy,” he told him. “Nice and slowly now.”

Will did so, and as he did, Alexander let out a little sigh. The boy’s ass was truly the piece de resistance. Two beautifully defined bubbles of fresh, taut boy-flesh, impossibly pert and straining against the confines of the boy’s shimmering tights. Alexander’s hands itched to get the brat over his knee and wallop that backside till the bitch cried out for mercy. But no… plenty of time for that later. There was no hurry. He had all night - and every night after this if he so desired.

“Very well. Face me now.”

The boy turned; fear and confusion written all over his face.

“Stand to attention, boy. Heels together. Have you learned nothing in your week at the castle?”

Will immediately did as he was told.

“Hands on your head, boy!” Alexander barked.

Again Will obeyed, the movement exposing his smooth armpits and forcing his skimpy jerkin to rise even higher. His bulge was completely exposed as well now, and Alexander licked his lips to see the top of the boy’s hose pulled tight against the smooth abs of his stomach and was that?… why, yes it was… there was definitely a perceptible thickening of the boy’s cock.

“Fucking perfect,” thought Alexander. “The little bitch is enjoying it, in spite of himself.”

He fixed Will with a steely glare. “Now, lad, how do you think your first week here at the castle has gone?”

Will’s throat was suddenly dry. He swallowed hard. “All right, I hope, Sir. I’ve been trying my hardest to learn and to do my job well.”

“Really?” asked Alexander, sardonically. “I think you’ll find, boy, that there’s rather more to this job than merely wiggling your arse at all and sundry in the hope that you’ll get by.”

“Sir, I’ve never” – Will began, but then thought better of it.

“Don’t answer me back, you cheeky little bitch,” snapped Alexander. “If I tell you black is white, you nod meekly and say, yes Sir. Do you understand?”

Will nodded helplessly.

Alexander took a moment to adjust his position on his chair, scratching his bulge idly as he did so. He waited just a little longer, enjoying the expression of bewilderment on the pretty page boy’s face, the lad’s hands still placed subserviently on top of his head, the cock still rock hard and standing to attention through his tights.

“Well, boy. I’ll admit that so far I have found your performance … adequate. You’ve blundered a few times at Lord Geoffrey’s table. On occasion you’ve been sloppy and slow, spilling sauces and not quick enough to respond to the demands for fruit to be served. However, I don’t think there’s anything that can’t be solved with some more intensive training.”

Will sighed with relief. The summons to Alexander’s chambers seemed to be nothing more than a progress report, in spite of Raymond’s warning of the Steward’s wrath.

“What concerns me more is a rather scandalous rumour that has come to my attention,” Alexander continued.

Will felt his stomach muscles tightened.

The older man’s top lip curled in a sneer. “Tell me about your dirty little fumblings with the kitchen-maid.”

The effect on the boy was instantaneous. His bottom lip quivered, his eyes began to well up with fear, and his cock drooped into immediate flaccidity.

“So it’s true then.”

“No, Sir, I swear” –

“Don’t lie to me, you filthy little slut. You’ve barely been here a week and you couldn’t keep that pathetic stub of a cock away from the first whore that flaunted herself at you. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t send you straight back to that stinking pit of a hovel that I dragged you out of! Only of course you wouldn’t even have that to return to. You’d be flung out, homeless and exiled from Lord Geoffrey’s lands – along with the rest of your miserable family!”

The boy was actually shivering with terror as he absorbed the full onslaught of Alexander’s verbal battering.

“Please, Sir,” he gibbered. “I didn’t know what I was doing. Please don’t send me back. I’ll be good from now on, I promise! I didn’t think I was doing anything wrong!”

“Think?” echoed Alexander, mockingly. “You’re not here to think. You’re a servant boy. The lowest of the low. A mere chattel belonging to Lord Geoffrey and to be used by anyone in the household who wants to do so. You’re here to get dressed in your slutty little uniform and be the most subservient little shit you can possibly imagine. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Sir,” Will whispered. “Perfectly clear.”

“Good. Now, come over here and stand in front of me.”

Will took a few hesitant steps to where his superior lay sprawled.

“Did I tell you to remove your hands from your head? Ignorant little slut.”

The hands immediately flew back to their prior position, as Will stood there, trembling slightly.

“Now get on your knees in front of me, bitch boy.”

Will’s heart fluttered as he wondered with fear what punishment Alexander would mete out to him for his transgression.

“Since you seem to be having some trouble keeping that little cock of yours in your tights, let’s see if we can subdue some of these more urgent sexual cravings.”

Suddenly, Alexander grabbed the big metal ring attached to Will’s leather collar and yanked the boy’s head towards his crotch.

“Let’s see you sucking a real man’s cock!”

Will tried to protest, but his words were muffled as his face sank into the huge bulge of Alexander’s groin. He found himself assailed with a variety of sensations. Firstly, there was the scent of the steward’s fragranced dick – a mixture of heady man-sweat and whatever perfumes and colognes his master used to douse his athletic body. Then there was the exquisite sensation of the silky tights – that feeling he now knew so well, wrapping the other man’s most private parts in the most intimate and indecent way. And just through that thin layer of stretchy material, Will could feel the undulating motions of Alexander’s considerable cock. It continued to lengthen and harden as Alexander held Will’s face against it, swelling and tumescing to a size that must surely eclipse Will’s own by at least twice as much.

“Lick my cock through my tights, page-boy-bitch!”

Will had no choice. He opened his mouth, and with no experience of what was expected of him, he lapped and licked at the silky material and at the man-meat beneath until the tights were moist with his saliva.

Alexander grunted as he felt those perfectly pouting lips and lapping tongue go to work. The boy’s inexperience was clear, but no matter, he would learn. Fuck, would he learn!

“Don’t forget my balls, tights whore,” he instructed through gritted teeth, and he gave Will’s head a slap, as he pushed it deeper into his crotch, and spread his muscled legs even wider to allow the lad better access to his pendulous ball-sack.

Will had no choice but to obey, and he got to work on Alexander’s considerable bollocks, licking and nibbling and sucking at them through the sodden material of his tights. And now a new scent: Alexander’s juicy ass, perfect and luscious through the rich burgundy material. Will experienced a bizarre and confusing mixture of emotions. He was helpless, subservient and degraded, being used as a boy toy by the older man, but there was also a strange kind of excitement: an honour to be allowed to work on the exquisite physique of his master, Lord Geoffrey’s most trusted servant.

Without warning, Alexander’s hand struck Will across the face, a golden ring cutting into the boy’s cheek and causing him to gasp in pain. He fell back onto his heels.

“Enough! You needn’t think that a mere blow-job will be sufficient to atone for your crimes, do you, slut-boy?”

Alexander shook his head slowly and cruelly. “Oh no, your punishment will be far more complex than that.”

Will knelt on the floor, his cheek smarting from where he had been struck.

“On your feet, bitch. Turn to face the wall, and don’t let me see those hands stray from your head, understand?”

“Yes, Sir. I understand.”

“And I think you’d better have the common manners to thank me for this additional training I’m giving you – all out of the kindness of my heart.”

“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”

Silence fell in the room. Will became aware of his own breath – heaving and deep as he tried to control the fear he felt and the terrible anticipation of wondering what torments and torture Alexander had in store for him.

“You seem nervous, page-bitch. Your hot little ass is quivering with terror in those tights of yours. I think I know a way to relax you. After all, how are you going to learn your lesson if you’re too tense to take it all in?”

Alexander allowed himself a wry grin at his private joke. The irony of this last statement might be lost on the boy right now – but it would not remain so for long.

“There is a wise-woman who lives in the village next to yours, boy. She dabbles in potions – mainly love syrups for the gullible and trusting. But she does possess a certain recipe which I have always found most efficacious. For many years, she has supplied me with little glass bottles of the liquid. Inauspicious in appearance, nevertheless, when inhaled… Well, you shall soon see, tights slut.”

“Please, Sir,” Will stammered. “I don’t want to take any potion. My mother always told me not to trust” –

“Silence, slut. You have no choice in the matter. I want you to take the potion and so that is what you will do. It will make you more malleable. And you never know – you may even enjoy it.”

Will heard the tinkle of a glass stopper being removed from a bottle and before he had chance to react, he felt the heat of Alexander’s body directly behind his. The steward had taken off his heavy brocade dressing gown, so he pressed his manly torso, covered with a light film of sweat in the warm evening, against the page-boy’s back. He ground his hosed crotch against the lad’s luscious ass globes and then reached around the boy’s body.

Clamping one hand over the lad’s mouth, Alexander used the other to force the little glass vial directly under Will’s nose.

Will started, instinctively, to struggle, but the older man was stronger and had the boy gripped tight. Soon all resistance was useless anyhow, as the vapours from the bottle entered the boy’s body. The odour was not unpleasant, but as it hit the back of his nasal passage and the potion began to be absorbed into his bloodstream, Will began to feel strangely weak. His knees buckled and he would have collapsed to the floor, had Alexander not been cradling him in his strong, naked arms.

Alexander’s voice whispered in his ear. “That’s it, bitch. Breathe deep. Take it all in. Inhale the potion all the way. It’ll make you feel really good.”

Will had no choice but to comply. He took great, deep breaths through his nose, inhaling the vapours deep into his lungs. The effect was strange but not unpleasant. Blood rushed to his head, and his heart rate began to slow. He felt his heart pounding and this combined with a weird kind of sensuality. His body tingled and he was acutely aware of all the most intimate and sexual parts of his body. He felt less like a human being and more animal. Maybe Alexander was right. Maybe he was just a dirty little bitch – a dog, with no finer feelings, just the desire to hump something or someone. Instinctively, he began slowly to rub his ass against the mound of Alexander’s cock.

“Mmmmm, yeah, boy,” the older man murmured. “That’s right. I told you it would feel good, didn’t I? Bet your ass feels really hot in those tights right now, doesn’t it? You’re feeling all horny and turned on, aren’t you? The potion is really doing its work now. And this is only the beginning…”

Will tried to speak but his brain seemed to be operating at half-speed and all he could do was utter an animalistic groan. Suddenly the bottle of potion disappeared into the waistband of Alexander’s tights and Will found himself spun round to face his master. Alexander lowered his head to reach the shorter boy and without warning, his tongue was between the boy’s pretty lips, swirling round that pussy mouth, probing, licking, slobbering all over the boy’s orifice. Will, still intoxicated by the potion, found himself responding.

He tried to imagine it was Jane, that this did not represent some kind of ultimate perversion, doing to a man what only men and women were supposed to do. But each time he tried to bring the image of the sweet little kitchen-maid to mind, it was displaced by the raw sexuality of the athletic form grasping him in his arms. The short soft bristles of Alexander’s beard rubbed against his smooth cheek and the insistent thrusting of the tights-clad cock against his own effectively dispelled any hope of fantasising that this was his sweetheart that he was kissing.

Then, as suddenly as he had approached, Alexander withdrew his tongue, and gave Will a sharp shove away from him that sent the lad sprawling to the floor. Will landed with a bump on his tights-clad butt and gazed up at his master, still dazed from the witch’s potion.

“I think someone needs to tell young Jane that her lover boy’s predilections lie elsewhere, don’t you?” sneered Alexander. “I’ve never seen a pussy boy more desperate for it than you. And oh, you’re going to get it, tights-slut. Oh, boy, are you going to get it…”

Chapter 2 - The kitchen-maid

                        The next few days had passed in something of a blur for Will. He had been shown to the dormitory where all the page boys slept. There were about a dozen of them in total: some blond, some dark; some tall, some short; some slim; some muscular; but all of them handsome in varying ways, and all with good shapely legs that filled out their tights to perfection. Most of them were the sons of gentlemen who hoped to find favour with Lord Geoffrey by placing their offspring in his household. All of them looked down on him as if he were some kind of insect. Yorick had clearly wasted no time in telling everyone about Will’s very humble origins.

                        The surliest of Will’s fellow pages was a lad called Raymond. He was eighteen, so a couple of years Will’s senior, with thick black curly hair, a button nose and full pouting pink lips. He was a few inches taller than Will, and his pageboy uniform consisted of a black and yellow embroidered jerkin, and his tights were parti-coloured in the latest fashion: one leg bright yellow and the other with alternating black and yellow vertical stripes. Raymond had been the previous holder of the post of junior page boy but had recently been promoted to a role with more responsibilities. Will thought that Raymond would have been pleased, but the older lad seemed to resent the fact that he had been replaced, and the focus for his resentment was, inevitably, young Will.

                        The situation was made even more difficult because Raymond had been charged with the job of training Will in his new position. Raymond grumbled that he had his own duties to see to, without being given the job of training some peasant half-wit; but he knew better than to complain too openly and risk punishment, so he took his frustration out on Will.

                        Will’s duties mainly seemed to be to be available to carry out whatever anyone senior to him wanted. In other words, he was the castle’s general dogsbody. The one specific role he did have took place every evening, as Lord Geoffrey and his household ate their sumptuous banquet in the Great Hall. Once the multitude of appetisers, fish courses, meat courses and other savouries had been consumed and cleared away, it was Will’s role to bring in an array of sweetmeats and desserts on a vast silver platter. Assiduously prepared by Mistress Olwen the Cook, these were a mouth-watering variety of puddings: milky blancmanges, trifles topped with layers of cream, chocolate mousses, warm yellow custards, strawberry, toffee and chocolate sauces and vast cream cakes. Alongside these delicacies were arranged every fruit you could imagine: large fresh bananas, juicy plums and nectarines, grapes, pears, peaches and kiwi fruits. And a large bowl of chocolate-coated fondants, bars of iced nougat and plump pink marshmallows coated in icing sugar.

                        “Lord Geoffrey has a very sweet tooth,” Mistress Olwen had chuckled to Will.

                        The first time Will was required to serve in the Banqueting Hall, his nerves nearly got the better of him. Suddenly, in spite of the finery he now wore and the relative comfort of his surroundings, he yearned for the simplicity of his old life. Still, there was no going back now.

                        Raymond had arranged all the various puddings and sweets on the platter – “Just how his Lordship likes it!” And the older boy stood with him outside the large oak doors, awaiting the summons. Suddenly, the doors swang open and Alexander the Steward, dressed in rich purple doublet and hose, looked Will up and down. His lips twitched in an appreciative smile but he said nothing, merely nodding towards the top table and indicating where Will was to go.

                        “Good luck, bitch boy,” hissed Raymond in Will’s ear, in a far from friendly fashion.

                        Will entered the Hall and began the long walk to Lord Geoffrey’s table, acutely aware with each step of being assessed by the various dinner guests: his blue jerkin rose up around his waist, and the blue spheres of his buttocks brushed against one another as he walked.

            His first glimpse of his Lordship was brief. He knew he was not supposed to look at Lord Geoffrey directly, so his first impressions were a confusing welter of images: rich velvety robes, a distinguished, handsome man in his forties, with streaks of silver in his hair, and a neat pointed beard as worn by only the most fashionable of gentlemen. As Will gazed submissively at the floor, he saw his Lordship’s broad muscular thighs in crimson hose, his package framed enticingly.

            Suddenly he heard Alexander’s voice at his side. “Serve his Lordship his dessert, boy!” came the harsh whisper.

            Will pulled his eyes away from Lord Geoffrey’s crotch and leaned far over the table to deposit the groaning platter of goodies. As he did so, he felt Geoffrey’s warm palm caress the taut muscles of his backside, lingering over the tightly stretched material of his hose and finally issuing a smart slap to his buttocks which made Will’s cock throb encased in its leather strap.

            Unsure of what he should do next, Will remained in that position, bent over the table, his ass exposed and vulnerable to whatever his Lordship should decide to administer.

            “Nice boy, Alexander. Congratulations on your appointment. This one’s bum is even cuter than the last.”

            “My only desire is to please your Lordship,” came Alexander’s oily response. The steward cleared his throat. “Okay, boy, you can put your tighted arse away now. We’ve seen enough of it for now.”

            Will stumbled back and, his cheeks blushing as scarlet as Lord Geoffrey’s hose, he backed out of the Hall. As he left, he couldn’t help but notice Raymond glowering at him jealously – an unspoken threat in his dark, almond eyes.

            And so his training had continued. He was spoken to only when someone wanted anything of him, and the other page boys in his dormitory whispered conspiratorially together, stopping abruptly whenever he entered the chamber. And all through it, Raymond continued to stare at him with contempt in his eyes.

            So it was with no little relief that after five days at the castle, he heard a quiet voice at his side.

            “Hello. It’s Will, isn’t it?”

            It was a girl: only his own age or perhaps a year older, with soft light brown hair that fell to her shoulders, and a pretty face with a tiny button nose. She was dressed plainly in a brown smock – not for the women servants the exquisite finery of jerkin and tights.

            “My name’s Jane. I work in the kitchen. I’ve spotted you fetching the dessert platter for Lord Geoffrey’s dinner.”

            Will was so surprised to be spoken to as if he were a human being rather than the most menial of slaves, he was speechless for a moment.

            Jane bit her lower lip. “I don’t have long but I know somewhere private we can go to … talk…”

            Minutes later, they were together in the castle’s stables: the comforting smell of straw reminding Will of his family back at home.

            “You’re very handsome, Will,” murmured the girl in his ear. “You must have seen all the servants watching you. They all want to get their hands on you and feel your most private parts through your delicious tights…”

            Will was about to express his gratitude, but he was prevented from speaking as Jane planted a long and lingering kiss on his lips. As she did so, her hand strayed down to his bulge, the mound rapidly expanding and creating a tent pole in his tights. As she made contact, his cock jerked desperately.

            “I have to go,” she said, rather regretfully. “Mistress Olwen will punish me if she notices I’m gone. But I hope we can meet again, Will.”

            She vanished as quickly as she’d appeared.

            Will sank back into the straw. That was it, he decided. He was in love.

            His training continued for the next few days fairly uneventfully. He became gradually used to his costume which displayed his cock, balls and ass so obscenely for the obvious entertainment of anyone watching, and although Raymond was clearly never going to become his biggest fan, the dark-haired lad did at least admit that he was achieving some level of competence at his serving duties.

            However, all of that paled into insignificance alongside the emergence of the lovely Jane into his existence. She was quite the most delightful creature he’d ever set eyes on. As yet their meetings had been snatched, illicit moments, as she always seemed to have to cut their fondlings short to go running back to her duties, lest she were missed in the kitchen. But she promised him that soon, very soon, they would know each other in the most intimate and delightful way… The virgin Will didn’t know exactly what she meant, but he was exceedingly eager to learn…

            So it was with these delicious dreams in his mind that he now lay, drifting in and out of sleep in a most enjoyable fashion. His hands were undressing Jane’s bodice, stroking her small, pert breasts and burying his face between them, smothering himself, smothering, smothering …

            And suddenly he was awake, gasping for breath, genuinely struggling for air. It took him a moment to work out what was happening, and then he realised that a slender yellow foot, ripe and sweaty from a hard day’s work, was smothering his face. The foot (encased in his customary silken yellow hose) belonged to Raymond, and the older lad was taking pleasure in grinding it into Will’s face. Will struggled to sit up and Raymond put his foot back on the floor, looming over Will’s pallet.

            “So you’re finally awake, goat-shit,” he spat. “Fuck knows what you were dreaming about – you were moaning and groaning like a bitch on heat.”

            Will bit his tongue. It would do not good to enrage Raymond further.

            “Get up and get dressed. Alexander wants to see you in his private chambers right away. And he’s not a happy man.”

            Will’s heart sank. “What… what do you mean?”

            “You’ll find out soon enough, tights boy. Now I’d get up there pronto if I were you. Alexander doesn’t like to be kept waiting…”

            Will stumbled out of bed and quickly got into his page boy uniform: strapping the cock ring around his privates and pulling up his blue hose as tight as it would go.

            It was late. The majority of the castle was asleep, which was a good thing as far as Will was concerned. He had only a hazy idea of where Alexander’s chambers were and he was aided by the glowing candle light that emanated through the drapes of one of the windows at the top of one of the castle’s many towers. Still, it took him a little while to find the room within the labyrinthine maze of the castle’s nooks and crannies.

Finally, a little breathless, with the sickening feeling of fear still in the pit of his stomach, Will stood outside the Chief Steward’s room. He knocked firmly on the door.

A moment passed and then Alexander’s baritone voice called out from within: “Enter!”

Chapter 1 - A Visitor to the Village

 

                        Will lay on his straw pallet. The straw stuck into his flesh and the coarse blanket felt rough against his naked skin. The cellar was draughty, and the snoring of the other boys in their beds rattled around the room, but to him it was like a paradise. Sixteen years of sharing his sleeping arrangements with his family’s stinking goat had not prepared him for such luxury. His early years in the tiny village where he’d been born, sharing a wooden hut with his parents and his two elder brothers, had been a time of unremitting labour. As the youngest and least significant member of the family, his responsibilities had been the most unpleasant: mucking out the stinking livestock that his family kept to earn a meagre crust. They traded with their neighbours for other food and goods, although the majority of what they made disappeared very quickly. Ninety per cent of their income had to be paid in taxes to Lord Geoffrey de Montford, the distant lord who lived a life of luxury in the grand castle, perched atop the distant hill.

                        As a boy, day-dreaming in the fields, Will had gazed up at the castle and found himself wondering what life was like for all the people who lived there. And now, unbelievably, here he was. Had it really only been a week ago that his life had been turned upside down so suddenly? He thought back wistfully to that day that had changed everything.

It had been a pretty average sort of a day really. He was supposed to have been wheeling a barrow load of manure the mile and a half to their neighbour Gyles’ farm but it was a warm late summer’s day and he was dozing underneath a nearby tree. He awoke with a start: if his father or either of his belligerent elder brothers caught him, he’d be sure to get a beating from their belt. It was a cruel, harsh life in the village and it was not unusual for the day to end with him lying across his father’s lap, his rough hessian trousers pulled down to his ankles, his naked arse being beaten till it was red as his father worked out his frustrations against the world.

                        But it was not his father. The new arrivals were a group of horsemen: four of them sat atop fine chestnut stallions. Will gawped in amazement at the finery and opulence arrayed before him. The leader of the group was a tall, lean, broad-shouldered man. He was in his late thirties, Will guessed, with long, sleek, dark hair that flowed from a widow’s peak. He wore a neatly trimmed goatee beard and moustache, and his cruel, pale blue eyes surveyed Will’s family’s home with distaste. Beneath his long, black riding cloak, he wore a finely embroidered doublet: black with gold embroidery, which ended just above his waist. His leather riding boots came up to mid-thigh, and his lean, finely muscled legs were snugly encased in silken black hose. At his crotch, his manhood was proudly displayed, straining against the material of the tights. Will’s eyes could not help but stray to the impressive bulge barely concealed within.

                        “Come here, boy!” the man called to him, imperiously. Will gulped nervously.

                        “Are you an imbecile?” he asked, a sneering smile playing around his lips. “I gave you an order!”

                        At that moment, there was a commotion from inside the hut, and his mother bustled out, falling over herself to apologise to the dignitary who was visiting them.

                        The richly-dressed man turned to her.

                        “My name is Alexander Courcey,” he declared. “I am the Chief Steward of Lord Geoffrey and I am here to collect the rents and taxes that you owe him.”

                        Will’s mother blanched. “My lord, the harvest has been very bad this year. My husband and sons have worked all summer long, but it has not been enough.”

                        “I am not interested in your feeble excuses,” Alexander snapped. “You know all too well the penalty for non-payment. Your hovel will be razed to the ground, and your family will be evicted from Lord Geoffrey’s land.” Once again, that smile played around his cruel lips.

                        Will’s mother sank to the ground, gibbering in terror and begging for mercy.

                        Alexander’s eyes passed back to gaze upon the still dumbstruck Will. “Perhaps,” he murmured, “on this occasion, we could make alternative arrangements…”

                        His mother looked up, hope filling her tear-stained eyes. “My lord?”

                        “The boy. Is it yours?”

                        Will’s mother clambered to her feet. “Our youngest, my lord. His name is Will. He’s a dreamer but he’s not a bad lad.”

                        “Tell it to come here,” the steward commanded.

                        His mother stared at her son, and when he remained rooted to the spot, she hissed at him, “You heard, Will. Approach his lordship!”

                        Will stumbled forward till he was right next to Alexander, the latter sitting proudly on his sweating stallion. The boy’s face came level with the steward’s bulging crotch.

                        Alexander leant over and grasped Will’s face in his gloved hand. His nose wrinkled. “It stinks, but it has some promise.”

                        Then, suddenly and unexpectedly, he slapped Will firmly across the cheek. Will took a step back, instinctively, and his hand flew to his face. His cheek stang, but there was no blood.

                        “Woman,” Alexander declared. “Because I am a kindly and compassionate man, I am prepared to spare you.”

                        Will’s mother again fell to her knees and began a litany of gratitude.

                        “Silence!” the steward barked. “I will take the boy as payment. He will work for me as a page in the castle. Due to his humble origins, he will be the lowest of the low and will perform only the most menial of duties, but he will have a roof over his head and a meal in his stomach every night. Provided he performs his duties satisfactorily, I will see to it that you are sent a copper piece once a month as compensation for the loss of his labour here.”

                        And that had been that. There had barely been time for goodbyes. His mother hugged him to her and whispered urgently, “Be good at the castle, Will. Do whatever you are told and do not disgrace your family. You are our only chance. Should this man become displeased with you, you know what the consequences will be…”

                        And then he was slung roughly over the back of one of the horses that belonged to Alexander’s companions, and they began the journey from his village, the only place he had ever called home, up to a strange new life at the castle.

                        The climb to the castle passed by in a blur and soon Will and his new masters were clattering into the castle courtyard. Alexander dismounted. He was well over six foot and towered over the boyish Will. His new master looked him up and down with a supercilious expression.

                        “Report to Master Yorick,” he instructed him. “Tell him you are to fill the role of junior page boy and that you are to be cleaned and dressed for the purpose. Do your duties well, boy, and all will be well. Do not give me cause to have to discipline you…” And with that, Alexander was gone.

                        The castle was a bewildering mixture of sights and sounds: fragrant smells wafted from the kitchen, clattering bangs issued from the nearby smithy, and the many inhabitants of the castle whirled around him in their brightly coloured uniforms. Will couldn’t help notice that all the servants he could see were male: all dressed in a variation of the same costume: tightly fitted embroidered jerkins on their upper parts that left their arms bare, their legs and lower portions encased in impossibly snug, silken hose that clung to their backsides and crotches in the same lascivious way that they had with Alexander. Blues, yellows, reds and blacks, the servants bustled around like impossibly colourful birds.

                        Eventually, after much sniggering and nose-holding when he approached, Will managed to locate Master Yorick in the castle’s laundry room. Yorick was a short, stocky man of fifty or so. Like all the other staff, he wore a jerkin which left his hairy, muscular arms exposed. His, however, was a serviceable brown, which contrasted with the mustard colour of his tights. His formidable thigh muscles stood out in stark definition through the figure-hugging material.

                        “So,” Yorick said. “Alexander has finally found a new junior page. He’s been searching for some time. I wonder what particular skill he has seen in you that makes him think you’re eligible for the job.”

                        He smirked in a not altogether pleasant way. Will didn’t understand, but, his mother’s advice still ringing in his ears, he said nothing and merely nodded.

                        “Now, first of all, you stink of goat shit, so a good bath is what’s called for. Take your clothes off, boy.”

                        Will hesitated. “If you show me the baths, Sir, I can make sure I am clean.”

                        Yorick sucked in his breath through his teeth and shook his head. “Oh no, lad. You’re new here. Every single moment of your life is to be supervised. We can’t have you just wandering around the castle alone now, can we? Besides, I want to see what’s lurking beneath that shitty peasant clothing. I don’t have all day, lad.” His expression became severe. “Now – strip!”

                        Although he was embarrassed at the prospect of being naked in front of this total stranger, Will realised he had little choice in the matter. The last thing he wanted was to be sent home in disgrace before his employment had even begun. Like it or not, these were his masters now and they owned him as surely as his family owned their goat. He pulled his hessian shirt over his head, kicked off his battered leather shoes and finally, lowered his scratchy trousers to his ankles. In spite of himself, his cock began to twitch and slowly began to pulse and rise, much to the amusement of the older man. Will blushed a deep red and attempted to cover his hard dick with his hands.

                        Yorick grinned. “Don’t worry, lad. Yours is not the first servant-boy’s cock I’ve seen get hard at the prospect of being viewed by another man.” He approached and swiped Will’s hands out of the way. Tweaking the boy’s prick with his fingers, he sighed with mock theatricality. “Although to be honest, there’s not all that much to see. It clearly wasn’t for your dick that you were chosen.”

                        Yorick’s callous assessment of the size of his manhood merely made Will blush all the more furiously.

“Turn around.”

Reluctantly, Will did so. “Ah, now it begins to make sense. You have a peachy backside, boy. Two ripe globes that would make any man go crazy with lust. And you might be only short but your legs are very well-muscled. All that work in your peasants’ fields has served you well.” Yorick chuckled. “Oh, yes, young man, you have to hand it to Alexander. His aptitude for spotting talent is quite remarkable. You are going to fill out a pair of tights very nicely.”

Will kept his eyes to the ground, humiliated to hear his body being described in this way, conscious of Yorick’s eyes on every scrap of his nude flesh.

“Come along then, lad.” And with that, Yorick led Will to a wooden tub, filled to the brim with warm soapy water that Will guessed was usually used for the castle laundry. “In you get.”

The peasant boy climbed in and allowed the warm water to engulf and soothe his naked limbs. Yorick grabbed a coarse scrubbing brush and began scraping away at the accumulated sweat and grime that was caked onto Will’s body: and if occasionally his hands strayed for a grope of his boy-cock, or his finger slid along the lad’s slippery arse crack, what was Will to do about it?

Eventually, the ablutions were completed and Will stepped out of the tub, cleaner than he had ever been in his life. Yorick took a rough towel and began rubbing the novice page boy down. Then he took a hair brush and began brushing the tangles out of Will’s blond hair.

“Needs a trim,” the older man surmised. And with that he took some shears and took away some of the hair at the nape of Will’s neck, leaving the blond mop long on top. “Very boyish,” he grinned. “Alexander will be pleased.”

“Now to get you dressed. I have a spare uniform just here. It might be a little small for you, but the tighter it is, the better it will showcase your ‘assets’.”

Yorick pulled open a drawer from one of the many chests that lined the room, and pulled out a neatly folded package. Will peered eagerly to see what costume he would be wearing to perform his duties.

“First things first,” said Yorick, producing a small leather strap that had two metal studs at either end. “Alexander likes to see a nice healthy bulge in his page boys. And to be honest, with your little tiddler there, you’re going to need all the help you can get. This will keep you permanently hard.”

Expertly, Yorick wrapped the strap around Will’s still rock hard dick and balls, ensuring the engorged packet remained so. Will had never experienced anything like it: his most private parts being held in permanent bondage. It was all he could do not to explode right there with Yorick’s hand on his cock.             Somehow he managed to control himself. He had no intention of disgracing himself so soon.

                        Yorick stepped back to examine his handiwork. He slapped Will’s cockhead and the lad gasped.

                        Yorick leered at him. “You want to cum, don’t you, lad? Don’t you even think about it. This is a good Catholic household and there are severe punishments for the sin of self-abuse. You even think about touching yourself down there and your feet won’t hit the ground as you’re thrown out of here. That cock of yours is strictly out of bounds from now on. That particular pleasure is to be afforded to more illustrious people than you…”

                        Will sighed in frustration. His solitary teenage wanks in the bushes at the side of the field were clearly to be a thing of the past.

                        “Moving on,” said Yorick. “Now we have the part I like best… fitting you for your hose…”

                        And with that, he produced an impossibly fine, silken pair of bright blue tights. “Put them on.”

                        Yorick tossed the tights to Will who caught them awkwardly. Will handled them gently. They smelt clean and new, and he was anxious not to tear the delicate garment. He moved to bend down.

                        “Wait!” ordered Yorick. “Turn around, boy. I want to see your ass as you pull on your tights.”

                        Obediently, Will did as he was told, and as he bent over, he was only too aware that his fine, young, boyish bum bobbed high in the air, giving Yorick a perfect view of his loveliest feature.

                        Will gathered up the right leg of the tights and inserted his foot, gently pulling up the material so that his leg became gradually encased in the silky smooth hosiery. First one leg, then the other. After his rough, hessian peasant trousers, the tights felt impossibly luxurious. The combination of the strong, masculine muscularity of his legs contrasted exquisitely with the delicate, almost feminine, sensation of the silk caressing his naked flesh. Pulling them up further, his genitals and his ass were also covered by the glorious feeling of nylon over flesh.

                        “Pull them up higher, boy!” ordered Yorick. “I want to see the material disappearing right up your crack!”

                        Will did as he was told. The silk encased the globes of his ass and the seam of the tights was hoiked up, disappearing deep into his crack and splitting his buttocks in two. He glanced down. The cockring was doing its job down there, and his cock and balls bulged obscenely through the blue fabric. His entire lower half was snugly encased in the tights – from his boyish feet all the way up to his waist.

                        “Mmmm,” said Yorick. “I wasn’t wrong. You were born to be put in tights, boy.” He approached and prodded Will’s ass with his thick finger, pressing the silk of the tights against the puckered hole. “Virgin ass. Very nice.”

                        Will nodded mutely as he tried to work out his conflicting emotions. He still felt shame at being leered at, but at the same time a strange kind of pride at being appreciated like this. He did look damned good in the tights – and they felt wonderful. How on earth was he to obey the command not to cum in his silky hose?!

                        Yorick handed over the rest of Will’s uniform: a richly embroidered silk jerkin: deep blue with silver thread that left a good portion of Will’s upper chest bare, as well as his boyishly toned arms; a thick studded leather belt that wrapped around Will’s waist; and some slim black leather pumps for his feet were added to his uniform.

                        Finally, he took a thick leather collar and wrapped it tightly around Will’s neck. “As the most junior and subservient member of our Lord’s household, you are the only one who must wear this slave collar,” Yorick informed him. “It will be a constant reminder to both you and others of your lowly status.”

                        “Yes, Sir. I understand,” whispered Will.

                        “Now, as much as I would like to stay and gaze at that lovely body of yours, I have other duties to get on with. Be off with you.”