The New Page Boy

The New Page Boy

Tuesday, 8 February 2011

Chapter 10 - The Tights Thief



Jane was right. The workshop was deserted. Will slipped in through the door, and made his way over to the various wooden chests where Yorick stored the castle’s various uniforms.
His senses whirled as he plunged his hands into the treasure trove of hosiery. There were tights of all colours, all sizes, all thicknesses: from coarse, woollen heavy tights for winter work in the outdoors, through to the shimmering, silken finery that encased the legs and nether regions of the various handsome and well-proportioned young men that Alexander had personally selected to serve Lord Geoffrey.
Will pulled out a pair of particularly gorgeous, pristine white tights. He buried his face into the fabric and smelt their newness. Quickly, he rolled down his own devastated hosiery, and stepped into them. The familiar erotic sensation of having his whole lower body sheathed in the kinkily sensuous fabric washed over him in waves, and his little cock pressed against the waistband: the tight material cutting his arsecrack in two.
He planted his feet wide apart and stuck his bottom out, imagining Alexander was caressing it, and toying with the plug lodged deep inside. He began to work his dick, rubbing it through the tights, and started to pinch his nipples, still sensitive from the attention they had received in the previous night’s gang rape.
All other thoughts disappeared from his mind, as the wonderful feeling of being enclosed in the silken tights possessed him. Slowly but surely, he approached ejaculation, and with what presence of mind he could muster, he slipped his cock out from within the tights so that his eruption would not soil the material.
He was just in time, as seconds later, he let out a low groan, as his cum spattered onto the stone floor of Yorick’s workroom.
A moment to recover himself, and then he regretfully pulled off the white tights, and began to search in the chest for a new blue pair that would best match his ravaged hose.
Eventually, he found what he was looking for. The hue was slightly lighter, and if anything, the size even smaller than his previous figure-hugging garment, but they would suffice. Jubilantly, he rolled his new tights up his muscular calves. Over his thighs, and he was just about to pull them up over his genitals and arse, when a sound made him look up sharply.
The wooden door to the workshop swang open. Will gasped guiltily as he stared directly into the face of the bald Yorick.
Yorick’s eyes opened wide. He looked at the page boy, frozen, with his tights halfway up his legs. Then his gaze wandered to the incriminating pile of cum, drying on the floor. He assumed a grim expression.
“Oh, you’re so fucked, boy…”

He got a spanking, of course.
He was tipped over Yorick’s lap, his head dangling and his arse, now enclosed within his new snugger blue tights vulnerable to the older man’s large, paddle-like hands. Will struggled a little as blows were rained over his arse and thighs, and he cried out when a particular heavy slap landed on him. Yorick seemed particularly keen to aim as many thwacks as possible on the inviting target of the butt plug. And each time he did, it sent a jolt right up the centre of Will’s body.
Every so often, he would squeeze Will’s bollocks hard through the blue hose, chuckling to himself. And again, the attention on his body, the humiliation of being put over another man’s lap for a spanking, and the rubbing of his bare chest and arms against the thick muscles of Yorick’s thighs through the silky sheen of his tights, caused Will to become aroused once more.
Finally, the spanking came to an end.
“You’re lucky I’m a busy man, or your punishment would be far more protracted,” Yorick growled, as he pushed Will from his lap to the floor. “But we don’t take kindly to thieves in the castle – especially ones that are clearly as perverted as you, little slut.”
Will tried to cover his erection with his hands, not wanting to provide Yorick with evidence that his words were all too true. But the devastatingly tight material showed all too clearly the outline of Will’s erect and throbbing penis.
“Now go and get yourself washed, bitch boy. You smell like a brothel. And be warned – you’ve not heard the last of this…”

The next week was a strange one for Will: a peculiar sensation: a kind of calm.
Yorick’s threat remained unfulfilled. Will presumed that he had either decided that the spanking he had inflicted on him was sufficient to punish Will for his transgression, or that in the whirl of Yorick’s daily tasks, his little bit of burglary had been forgotten about.
The other lads in the dormitory went back to ignoring him, apparently sated after their frenzy of lust. Will suspected that more than one of them was ashamed of what their sexual desires had led them to, and that they would rather not be reminded of the pleasures they had experienced in the use of his young boy flesh.
Raymond remained as impossible to work out as ever. He continued to bully and torment Will, and the morning enemas continued as per Alexander’s instructions. Yet something of the venom that he usually directed at Will seemed to have gone. And every so often, just when Will thought that Raymond genuinely regarded him as something lower than an insect, the older page boy would show a moment of tenderness towards him, and kiss his lips in a way that caused a welter of confusion to course through Will’s mind and body.
Of Jane he saw little or nothing. A kindly look or conspiratorial wink was all the two dared exchange as they flitted around the castle on their various duties.
Indeed, much of the talk of the castle was of war and turbulence abroad. There were rumours that the King would be taking an army across the seas. If that were to happen, Lord Geoffrey would undoubtedly be summoned to join him, and to provide men as part of the fighting force. And no one was eager for that to happen.

“Master Alexander wants to see you,” Raymond informed him that evening. “And I am to take you to him.”
Will gulped. It was the moment he had been dreading. Had Yorick gone and informed the Chief Steward of his moment of madness in the tights chest?
“Wh - why does he want to see me?” stammered Will.
Raymond regarded him smugly. “I imagine he’ll want some kind of progress report on your training. I didn’t think it fit to question Alexander’s motives. We’re to report to him at eight.”

Any hope that Alexander would be unaware of his misbehaviour vanished as soon as Will entered the familiar chamber. To one side of the room stood Master Yorick, his vast leg muscles encased in serviceable black tights. He had the look of an executioner, thought Will grimly.
Alexander himself looked more handsome and masculine than ever. Arrogance and power exuded from him like a scent. He was richly dressed as ever, in a black and silver padded doublet, and gorgeously fine, shimmering silver hose.
Will stood before his master, his stomach turning over, his hands clasped behind his back in a show of submission, his head bowed in disgrace. What was in store for him this time? Would he be evicted from the castle, and returned to a homeless, ruined and resentful family? Or would Alexander make good on his threat to punish young Jane for Will’s waywardness?
“You never learn, do you, boy?” Alexander’s powerful baritone began. “I have offered you every opportunity by taking you from your hovel, and allowing you to better yourself here in the castle. And yet at every turn, you are wilfully disobedient. I had hoped that Raymond here would be able to instil some respect into you, and, instead, I learn that you have now added theft and the destruction of castle property to your multitude of transgressions.”
Alexander reached into a drawer of his desk and pulled out a small leather pouch. Emptying it onto the table, he picked up and displayed its contents: the tattered remnants of Will’s blue hose.
“So, bitch. Would you care to tell me how your beautiful tights ended up in this condition?” And with that, Alexander flung them at Will’s face.
Will bit his lip, only too aware that Raymond was standing just behind him, listening intently to every word he said. He made his decision. Alexander was clearly going to punish him anyway, and his life wouldn’t be worth living if the other page boys discovered that he had revealed to the Chief Steward all the sordid details of their debauched orgy.
“I don’t know, Sir,” he mumbled.
“You don’t know…” Alexander repeated, with a dangerous edge to his voice. “You don’t recall how the arse of your tights ended up ripped to shreds?” He rose to his feet and strode across the room, and grasped Will’s cock and balls in one hand, squeezing and lifting the boy so that he was dancing on tiptoe.
“You’re a fucking liar, bitch.”
Will’s face creased in pain as Alexander’s grip grew even tighter.
“Do you still refuse to tell me?” he demanded.
“I can’t, Sir, please…” Will pleaded.
The Steward let him go. “Very well. But you know will suffer for this, don’t you, tights slut?”
Will nodded his head miserably. He turned to look over his shoulder to see Raymond smiling smugly, thoroughly enjoying every moment of his suffering.
“Young Raymond. You tell me. How did this sissy boy’s hose get to be destroyed?”
The dark-haired lad sighed theatrically. “I wish I knew, Sir. I fear there are no depths to which his depravity will sink.”
Alexander’s eyes narrowed. “I gave this boy into your instruction, Raymond. Are you telling me you have been neglecting the task I issued you?”
Raymond’s cockiness faltered. “No, not at all, Sir…” he stammered.
“With rights come responsibilities, young Raymond. I hold you responsible for the behaviour of this bitch. And it seems to me you have failed me most spectacularly.”
The page boy’s lower lip began to tremble. “What could I do, Sir? He’s an animal, used to living his life in pig swill. How could I hope to instil any civilisation into him?!” Raymond’s voice began to sound slightly hysterical.
“Such weasel words ill become a young gentleman of your position, Raymond,” purred his Master. “And as neither of you will tell me the truth of how good Master Yorick’s fine handiwork was so shabbily treated, it seems I must needs find other methods of discerning who is to shoulder the blame.”
His words hung in the air of the richly furnished chamber. Yorick rubbed his hands together gleefully, whilst Alexander’s expression remained cool and unfathomable.
Alexander turned to Yorick. “Good Master Yorick, as it is you whose work has been insulted and whose floor has been defiled by this filthy creature, I would be most grateful if you were to assist me in the administration of the punishment.”
Yorick nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, you know me, Alexander. Only too happy to help.”
The Steward smiled. “Would you be so good as to send a servant to the kitchens and ask Mistress Olwen to send up my order?”
“Of course, Alexander.”
The stocky bald man hurried from the room, and Alexander turned his attention to the two nervous lads before him.
“Step forward, both of you,” he commanded.
Reluctantly the two page boys, one blond, one dark did as they were told.
“Now, take off your waistcoats, your belts and your pumps. I want you naked apart from your tights.”
The youths did as they were instructed, removing their clothing so that they stood bare-chested before their master, clad only in their sensuous hosiery.
“Now, follow me into my bedchamber.”
Raymond shot a look of fierce hatred at Will as they did so.
The room had undergone some slight transformation since Will had last been used and abused for the pleasure of his master.
Where once the only reflected surface had been the vast mirror above Alexander’s bed, Will now saw that the entire room was covered with looking glasses, so that wherever one stood within it, various images bounced and reflected around. As he gawped at the expense such furnishings must have cost, Will saw that in the centre of the room, where Alexander’s grand four poster bed had stood, there was a large wooden table. It stood about four feet off the ground, and the table top was a wide, circular platform. Although Will couldn’t immediately work out how it would be used, he knew that it would involve him being sexually humiliated. Also, given the time it would have taken to construct and to transform the bedchamber, he strongly suspected that Alexander must have been planning this particular little perversion for some considerable time. Hating himself for it, his cock gave an involuntary twitch at the thought.
“How pretty the two of you look,” drawled Alexander. “My two little bitch boys: one blond, one dark: one dressed in blue, the other in yellow. Oh I’m going to enjoy issuing retribution very much!”
He came up behind the lads, and simultaneously caressed their tighted butt cheeks, Will’s with his left hand, Raymond’s with his right.
“That plug still lodged nice and deep inside you, boy?” he asked Will. “Don’t you worry now, we’ll have something else to stick up there instead before too long!”
He let out a mirthless laugh. “Now, queer boys. Get up on that platform. I want you both on your hands and knees, arching your backs so your pretty little arses point up right in the air. I want you side by side, but facing opposite directions, so that your face,” he prodded Raymond in his arse crack, “is level with this one’s bottom. Do it. Now!
The youths did not wait around. They clambered on top of the table, and assumed the positions Alexander had demanded of them. It was not as easy as it looked, as they discovered that the top of the platform was loose and rotated a little as they climbed onto it.
Will glanced to his right at the yellow tighted arse of his fellow slave boy and wondered what was in store for them. Whatever it was, the multi-mirrored walls would ensure there would be no avoidance of their ordeal. They each would see it all. Once again, Will found himself cursing the stiffness of his cock, sheathed in his silken blue hose.
There was a knock at the door of the bedchamber.
“Enter!” called Alexander.
The door opened and Yorick appeared, ushering a couple of serving girls. Will was surprised to see that they had brought in a massive silver platter, ladened with the fruits and sweet delicacies that it was his duty to serve to Lord Geoffrey every evening.
The platter was deposited on a table at the side of the room, the girls dismissed, leaving the two older men, and the two boys alone.
Will waited, already becoming rather uncomfortable in the crude position he had been forced to adopt.
Eventually Alexander deigned to give them an explanation. “I have devised a particularly cunning and rather excruciatingly delicious game of chance,” he declared. “To decide which of you will take the blame for these revolting misdemeanours, we are going to have a little contest. The loser will be punished, whereas the victor, because I am a kind and lenient master, will receive a delightful reward…”
“You see here the expensive sweets and desserts that Lord Geoffrey enjoys so much. You are, each in turn, going to be fed these exquisite fancies!”
Will gasped in delight. He would get to taste the delicious sugary treats! This did not sound like such a terrible punishment after all!
“Quite simply, the winner will be whichever one of you manages to consume the most!”
Better and better, thought Will. He felt as if he had spent his whole life half famished! He was sure he could eat more than the pampered Raymond who had surely never known starvation.
“You can wipe that simpleton smile off your face, bitch,” Alexander admonished him. “You won’t be eating these goods in the conventional way. Every last one of them will be going up your tight little boy-arses!”



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