The Squire of Carlovain, Chapter 1


Andrew finished piling the manure of the stable into the wheelbarrow and wiped his forehead on his bare arm, then his arm in its turn on his trousers. He was stripped to the waist, for the day was horribly hot - it was near midsummer's day - and women never came into the stables, even had their inn had guests at the moment, which it didn't being still the afternoon. Only his family's own horse, an old mare beyond breeding years and soon for the knackers, was left in the stable. He took the time to water her, for she nickered at him as he walked by - why do people have trouble understanding animals, he thought; he understood her request perfectly! - and then worked at filling the old tub at the back of the stable from the small well they had there.

He then knelt in the clean hay he had lain over the sticky clay about the well and sluiced the water over first his face and then his body, closing his eyes for the sheer joy of the cold water over his work-heated body, how it ran down his chest and over his abdomen with solid fingers of cool caress. Another slosh and his back was splashed with an abundance of refreshing moisture, this landing like swathes of cloth, not heavy woolen, but delicate gossamer veils like the fine ladies that sometimes frequented the inn wore about their persons and cast at him in a coquettish manner, drap ing it about his cheek as if accidentally, but looking aside at him as they did, with that smirk of missing teeth and the heavy odor of perfume they seemed to choose to replace regular baths.

That distracted his thoughts for a time. These women wanted him, but they would never win him, for they were uniformly of French ancestry and his family was of the Neresterii, the original inhabitants of this country, and to him these women with all their finery were interlopers and leeches on the sweat of his family and kin. The conquering king, Phillippe I, had been wise to choose a Carlovain lady for his wife, and his three successors had each done the same. Phillippe V now held the throne, and with his ancestry now far more Carlovain than French, he had the people's loyalty as well. Would that the other nobles had done the same, instead of continually importing and exporting those filthy French whores in silken gowns that flirted with him, and for the sake of his family's business he had to smile and flirt back....

Another scoop of the water into his face killed the unpleasant memories of the dirty French women, and he lifted up more, his thoughts now running only to the wonderfully refreshing feel of this water, cool despite the hot day from its long dark journey beneath the earth. Another double-handful, this time he lifted it high in his pressed-together palms, to let it splash over the heels of his hands and down onto his face and run over his neck in slow rivulets like a lover's caress, completely down his body. Ooh, that felt good, his body's heat was now subsiding to a tolerable level once again, though the pleasure of the water's touch had stirred another heat in his body. He found the sponge for washing himself with, and soaked it in the tub, then lifted it up and let water fall out of it as it would, into his upturned face, one arm high above his head and the other played over his body.

He looked at his right arm muscle as it moved his hand back and forth, and then paused to flex it, smiled at its ample size, and then squeezed the sponge over the enlarged muscle. Now the sponge, damp only, was brought to play over his body. Daily washings let him use their home-made soap sparingly, for it was stringent stuff, and he mostly plied the sponge as it was, using it to flush the poisons of his labor out of his pores. Done, he again sluiced up water from the tub and then played his hands both over his body, rubbing. Paused, looked at the back door of the inn, noting it was empty and no voices came from within, and then soaked the sponge and stood up. His trousers were easily opened and they were bulky, loose things, it was easy enough to push the loaded sponge down into his groin and scrub there, oh, there! He loved the roughly soft rasp of the sponge between his legs, and then over his thighs, feeling how his thigh muscles were long ellipses running down his body from hip to knee that rippled as he touched them.

His bath was finished, but he lingered, running his hands over his breasts, catching and pinching the nipples for the sheer joy of the delicious pain they gave. He groaned and one hand fished down to capture his manhood and he sighed as it pulsed with turgid life in his hand, filling his eyes with a sharp rapture that outlined every detail around him, painting it with the brush-strokes of dreams.

His hand tweaked his nipple again and again, and in the joy of that nub of bright sensation and the building hot bliss as his organ grew to its full enraged height, his other hand still clutching his nipple, and the two other hands that stroked both his sides and ran up his ribs to his armpits, a delicate touch that excited his senses and...what was this?

He gasped, froze, his body stiff and afraid to move, then he heard the silken, masculine voice in his ear. "Nay, good fellow, be not alarmed. I see your innocent pleasure and would not corrupt it by dint of unwanted attentions from myself. But the way the lights of the sun glistened off the water beaded like pearls on your youthful body." the man paused and drew in a shuddering breath, "And the way your muscles moved in the supple manner of a cat after its prey as your hands pressed over them." Again the hissing of air pulled into desperate lungs, "I thought that mayhaps my own hands may find a welcome here as well. If I am wrong, but say the word and I shall not tarry, but go around to the front of the inn as an honest traveler should."

"If my father should see this...." Andrew gasped out instead of a negative.

"He is in front of the inn as is your mother, if the voices I heard were those of your parents. They will not interrupt us."

The voice was assuredly male, the hands were strong and the breath on his cheek sweet-smelling. No Frenchman this. A fellow member of the Neresterii, then, who had stopped by the inn, for perhaps only a drink, for the inn was close enough to Heslov to make traveling on to that large town, the capital of Carlovain, before nightfall far more attractive than stopping at this early hour. Andrew relaxed slightly and said the greeting of the Neresterii, "You are well-met, my kinsman." The strong hands of his as-yet-unseen companion moved over his chest, Andrew felt the strong frame behind him. This man was taller by him, but not by much, and that brush of hair on his shoulder was undoubtedly a beard. The Neresterii were all hairy, and Andrew daily watched his own body in wonder, for every day more hairs shown in the morning light, white still, but darkening as they grew in number.

Teeth nipped at his left earlobe and Andrew laid his head back as the hands, so softly gentle, found and replaced his own at his organ, the slender fingers wrapped around his shaft and pulled it up and then skinned it back as the teeth pulled, then reached and grabbed another hold on him, worried his ear like a terrier worries a bone. The hands lowered Andrew's pants, which fell easily away and slid about his ankles.

"Ah!" Andrew said softly. "Ah, good sir, your attentions are most welcome. I pray that you will not hesitate to let your body do with me as you will."

Illustration for Squire Chapter 1 The man shifted, the cloak which had pressed against Andrew's back shifted away and Andrew found the sensations which replaced it. A definite touch of hair on his upper back, his lower back, and a hot oval of pressing flesh above his buttocks. This man was nude but for the cloak! "Sir, your clothes. How can this be?" he asked, gasped as the hands now both gripped his pole of manliness and pumped it with hard, even strokes.

I was surprised in my bed last night by treachery." the man breathed in his ear. "I barely was able to grab this cloak and make my escape from the French scum who invaded my quarters. I have ridden in the woods between here and Heslov ever since, seeking asylum among the kinsmen of the Neresterii. Have I found it here, though I lack for coins for my lodging? I shall repay you double-fold very soon, I think, for my allies know my plans for escape."

"Verily, sir." Andrew said. "For if you are enemies of the French, then you are friends of my family, for I know you are of the Neresterii." That thought excited him more, the grip of a rebel's hands on his body. "But I would let you stay with me even though you can only repay me with your touch. I shall not even inform my parents of your presence."

"I am glad." the man breathed in his ear. "I find my plight to be...most stimulating. My whole body feels alive, and I hunger as a beast in the field does."

"I shall feed you." Andrew said, abashed. This man was suffering. His needs could wait.

"I hunger for you." the man clarified. He lowered his body at the knees, and Andrew felt that hard rod which had been jutting above his buttocks now slide between his wet legs and nestle his balls, then push above them. "I find my body enslaved with rut. The sight of you only inflamed me the further. I burn." he sighed to Andrew. "I burn."

"Then let us quench our mutual flame." Andrew said, holding his legs together as the man began to hunch back and forth, giving that pulsating man-rod the friction it needed. The stranger licked and nibbled at his back, tasting his flesh.

"Ah, goodman, your body smells and tastes of the earth. Never have I held such as you in Heslov. Oh, I must taste more of you than I can reach here."

"Then let me go and I shall turn around." Andrew said.

"I shall release you, but do not flee from me when you see my face." the stranger said. "I could not bear it." And the hands released, the prod pulled out from his legs.

Andrew turned and saw the face, a regal face that bore a thin beard and mustache, carefully trimmed to a bare half-inch width around his lips and down in twin swooping lines to join the beard at the ridge of the jowls. Such a dainty beard-and-mustache would never be kept by a commoner, for they required a careful toiletry to maintain. The face beneath this affectation of beard was perhaps that of a man of his late thirties. His eyes were blue and clear as the sky, his cheeks taut and flat and unlined from arduous labor. It was well he had a cloak with hood, for this face screamed noble blood from its every pore. "But I must ask you to guard my identity, for I am incognito and fleeing for my life."

"Sir, to guard your identity, I would have to know your identity." Andrew admitted. "My work does not permit me to travel to Heslov and I have seen none of the townsmen save for those who visit our tavern. You are unknown to me, though I see you are of noble birth."

"Unknown, and of noble birth. Then you recognize me not." the man said, and seemed pleased. "For now, it is better so, for I would hold you as a man holds another, no more and no less." He stepped up and that huge rod that had plied between Andrew's legs was now stabbing his navel. But Andrew's own manhood was now touching that hairy body. The man bore a wide, ample chest, strong, with muscles of fluid grace adorning, decorated by the copious hair of his chest that formed a solid sheet down the front of his body, almost uniformly hairy the entire length. Andrew thought of it own scraggly growth in the diamond between his breasts, and grimaced. This was a man's hair he was looking at, he was still a lad despite his recent birthday of majority. He had to admit that he was physically stronger than this man, more muscled. But his body was that of a work-beast formed by labor, this man's was one formed by playful exercise alone.

Those lips, thin and white, reached for his own and Andrew forgot now any questions about this man. He was Neresterii and he was in need as was Andrew, that was sufficient.

Such a kiss Andrew had never had, and indeed never imagined. The sheer lust that poured out of this man into Andrew through those lips, the total liberty they granted, so that Andrew's hands moved freely up to grasp that hairy body and draw it closer to him. He grunted and squirmed his cock against the equally tumescent prong of the stranger.

The man's hands gripped Andrew's buttocks and pulled him tighter still to their groins, and Andrew groaned, feeling his cock spew clear lust against the hairy form that held him in thrall. It burned as it left his body, and it must have burned the man as well, but he only gasped in his turn and rutted the more against Andrew, and Andrew felt the transparent liquid scalding his abdomen as well.

"Ah, sir, enough." Andrew said after a time. "The hay is fresh-laid in our stable, and is but a few steps away. Let us retire there before we burst from our exertions on our feet."

The man's face was flushed, and he agreed. Andrew hiked up his pants quickly and held them with one hand while he followed the cloaked stranger into the barn.

Plenty of stable's stalls had been prepared for the guests who would arrive near sundown. They took the first one available and the stranger cast aside his cloak and laid it out for a blanket for them, showing Andrew his equally hairy back, and Andrew let his trousers fall, as the stranger sat then lay down upon the cloak, holding up his arms to greet Andrew as he knelt down to lay atop him.

Again their bodies ground together, their grunts of need inflaming the air about them.

"Ah, young man, your need is great as is mine." the stranger sighed at last. "But I must now ask you what you know of lovemaking before I do you any injury."

Andrew flushed. "I am yet unknown to these pleasures, save alone. But I would learn all from you as quickly as you will teach me."

"I will tarry and teach you all this night." the stranger replied. "But for now, you will take your pleasure with me and give me pleasure in return." And the man's legs, hairy brushstrokes on Andrew's thighs, reached around him. "But rub a bit of your mouth's water onto your manhood to ease the path for me, as I shall also do."

Andrew did as he said, hawked and spit into his palm, the stranger doing the same, and their two hands plied over Andrew's rod until they had coated it and it felt slimy and sticky in Andrew's hand.

"Now, goodman, take me for your first pleasures, and I am grateful for the privilege." the stranger said, bringing his legs up to close over Andrew's back, the heels touching Andrew's buttocks.

"I shall be gentle as I may." Andrew said as he pushed his cock into the warm embrace of hair-encrusted flesh, finding the entrance hot as the steam from a cauldron on the fire. "Pray warn me when I go astray."

"Pah!" the stranger said and used his heels to shove Andrew into that seething cauldron, and Andrew found himself deeply imbedded in the stranger's body. "All my life have people been gentle with me. I crave the feel of roughness. Give me roughness, and you shall be my first in this. I am a man as are you and not made of foolscap. You say gentle, I say rip me wide if you can and I shall beg you for more!"

Andrew needed no further bidding from this nobleman, for his blood was pounding in his ears, drowning his brain in red haze, and these words removed the last barricade, he forgot about any finesse he should use and simply let his body do as it would, and it chose to plunge-fuck with rapid strokes into the hot male body squirming beneath his own.

"Ah, ah, yes, young man, that is the way I have always wished." the stranger moaned. "To be taken, taken utterly in this. Ravish me completely, I beg you, sir, pray, ravish me utterly."

Andrew was beyond words, his world was embroiled in the sensations that rushed through his eyes and roared in his ears and assailed his nostrils and soaked his mouth until he had to swallow to prevent himself from literally drooling on this compliant stranger, he shifted and got the weight of the man's lower body onto his own legs, and that let him drill in deeper, he clutched the legs that now stood straight up on either side of him and wrapped them in his arms and held them steady for they were flailing about as the stranger palped his own rod in a frenzy, not stroking, but an odd pulsing motion of his hand which nonetheless moved the foreskin back and forth over the glans slightly and seemed to give the man enormous pleasure.

"Uh, uh!" Andrew groaned as his body shifted into a higher tempo, now he was moving in a fury of mindless lust, his brain was boiling inside his skull from the heat, his eyes barely could focus on the man beneath him, and the feelings that raced through his body became all his world.

The man was thrashing now beneath him, groaning alarmingly and Andrew wondered briefly if he was being too rough, but then the man almost yelled and white shots of sperm flew from his cock to douse his chest and face with astonishingly thick clumps of jism.

The climax, too, caused the man's anus to clamp onto Andrew, he was squeezed tightly in his thrusts so that he could not have withdrawn had he wished, he was reduced to slight back-and-forth movements in the clenched interior, and that, too, was good, more than good, his body was screaming for release and he gave it its head like a half-broken stallion he was riding, and his cock swelled to become enormous in its importance in his body's sensations, and then the swelling burst of a sudden, his cock returned to its prior size and he was a drowning swimmer in the ocean of his orgasm, he felt his cock squirting into this man like the mother of all releases, harder and faster than his own hand could have managed to give him, it was like his very insides were pouring out of his body into this man, he was being drained of his very soul!

Done, his body emptied and hollow-feeling, and he lay down upon the stranger, a last vestige of decency preventing him from crashing down with his entire weight, resting instead on his elbows.

Those lips reached for him again and now Andrew kissed him not with passion but with gratitude. "Oh, sir, thank you." he sighed when that kiss was done. "Such a gift you have given me now, that I could never repay."

"Give me yourself this night, and I shall be more than repaid." the man said. "That and the hospitality of your own room."

"Yes, of course." Andrew said, brought back to reality.

He started to get up, but the man grasped him. "In a short while." the stranger clarified and kissed him again. Andrew smiled, and now he did lay down upon the man entirely. The better to let their bodies blend together into one.

When they did arise and began the process of installing the man in Andrew's room without his parent's knowledge, Andrew moved first. A pot was boiling on the stove, but his mother was nowhere to be seen. From there it was necessary to make it to the stairs at the back of the kitchen to his room on the second floor of the inn. That was easy since their family quarters did not join to the rooms of the inn itself by any other door, and then the man was in Andrew's bed, and Andrew looked at the big form on his bed and smiled. "Now I shall get you some food." he said. "I fear it will be only bread and cheese, all we have at this moment."

"Your gifts are appreciated just the same." the man said and smiled. "And some water to drink if you could, for I am thirsty."

"Yes, of course." Andrew said.

The goblet of water delayed his scavenging and that gave his mother time to come in. "Mercy, child, what are you doing?" she asked him.

Andrew was caught with a plate of bread and cheese in one hand and a goblet of water in the other. "I...I was hungry." he said.

"But your lunch was less than two hours ago." His mother reminded him. "Can't you wait for supper?"

"I'd...I'd rather not." Andrew said.

"Well, then, sit down and eat it and then get that muckpile finished. Lord Montaigne's men will be by with the wagons for it by the end of the week. It'll pay our taxes for this quarter at least. Though the Church's tithe is due this Sabbath and how are we to pay that, when they take only coins and few coins are to be had?"

"We'll manage." Andrew said, trying to take it to his room, "or beg an indulgence from the priest as we did last time. We were only three weeks late last time, he will understand."

"You weren't there when I asked him. Sit at the table here and eat that. He warned we must not be late again or he'd report it to the bishop. Sit down, I say!"

"I wanted to take it to my room." Andrew said.

"Your room? Whoever heard of such things." his mother said. "Your room is for sleeping. You sit down and eat that quick and get back to work."

"Yes, mater." Andrew said resignedly. He sat at the table and took a small sip of the water.

His mother stirred the pot and then wiped her hands and turned to the dishes in a tub on the floor. Andrew took her preoccupation as a chance, and he grabbed the plate and the goblet and took off up the stairs. She called after him but he ignored her.

The man was smiling as he entered. "I feared you were caught and be forced to eat it all yourself." he said.

"You heard?" Andrew asked.

"Verily, I would have had to have been much further away not to have heard."

"My mother." Andrew explained. "This life is rough on her. My father is unable to work, so she and I must take care of this inn ourselves."

"How much is your Church tithe?" the man asked, concerned.

"Five gold pieces every quarter." Andrew said.

The man scowled. "That is too much."

"I agree, but what can we do? The Church of Carlovain has been raising the tithe steadily ever since the Schism. The priest explains that the Catholic priests took everything when the King let them depart in peace, and now they must rebuild."

"Your priest lies, for they left it all behind as part of the agreement." the man said. "Your priest is taking that tithe for himself. Perhaps with a cut for the bishop's own pocket."

"I have long thought that." Andrew said. "But our worries are not yours. Eat, sir, for my mother and I make this cheese and bread ourselves and she has a reputation as a cook. It helps our business some, her skilled cooking. Now, I had best return to my labor, for she is right that the muckpile must be ready for this Friday, or Lord Montaigne will go hard on us."

"Andrew!" came his mother's call at his door. "Come out this minute!"

"Hide under the covers." Andrew said and the man did so. Andrew peered out the door.

"Who is that man in your room?" She demanded.

"A friend of mine." Andrew said. "He is in trouble and must hide here. Just for a day or two."

"Can he pay for his lodging?"

"He will send us payment, he has said."

"Double-fold." the voice beneath the covers assured them.

"Hmph!" she said. "If promises were gold, we'd have wealth to outstrip the Pope. Your father keeps letting people pay with promises, that's why we won't have the tithe by this Sabbath."

"But...but I am sure he will pay." Andrew said. "Mother, I am an adult now, and I must ask you to trust me on this."

"I'll trust you as much as I trust your father." she said.

"But you don't trust him at all!" Andrew said in despair.

"Exactly." she said. "But you must find out the uselessness of words for yourself. Very well, I'll leave your guest alone. But if he doesn't pay, you'll agree to never take promises for payment ever again. Agree?"

"Yes, mater." Andrew said. "I agree."

"Then he might as well come down to the kitchen to eat that." his mother said. "I don't like the idea of strange men in my son's bed. It's unseemly. This chord that runs in the blood of the Neresterii men is a constant puzzlement to me. Why is it that none of you are content with the touch of your wives. Why must you all grope each other with your lusts?"

"Our blood runs too hot within us." the stranger said, his voice muffled from the covers still. He continued to hide his face from them. "No woman could handle us. So we turn to each other rather than burden our families with bastard children. Isn't it better that way?"

"No! I keep waiting to find out that Andrew has been in some other man's bed and will have to confess the sin." His mother looked at Andrew's face, and hers grew firm as stone. Then, in a very still voice. "Sir, I must insist that you remove those covers right now. All of them."

"Mother!" Andrew said in despair. "Mother, please, I beg of you, don't do this!"

"I must see for myself. He'll not have a stitch on him, and I'm sure if I looked I'd find your bedsheets stained as well. But I must see."

"Only if you promise not to say a word about this to anyone, then I shall lower the covers." the man said.

"You think I'll brag that my son has begun to engage in the typical unnatural behavior of Neresterii men? My lips are sealed."

"You must promise that you won't tell anyone I was here at all." the man pressed.

"Eh? Very well. Your wife needn't be burdened by this, though I doubt you've fooled her any. Neresterii men!" she humphed. "I'm glad my parents were English. My son has half a chance not to fall completely into your evil clutches, at least."

"I have your promise, good woman?"

"Yes, yes, not a word to anyone! Now let me see the man my son has lain with!" she said.

He lowered the covers and then cast them off, to lay there, his body exposed to her.

"Mother, please." Andrew pleaded. "I can explain everything if you'll just listen to me. I..."

"Your Majesty!" his mother screamed and dropped immediately to her knees. "Oh, Sire, I did not know! Please forgive me!"

"Majesty?" Andrew said. "This man is...?

The man smiled. "Phillippe V, at your service, my young man. The French lords are in rebellion against me and I am now running for my life. The news will reach your tavern soon enough, I am sure. If you could get word to my royal bodyguards where I am, I can repay you amply for your services in my time of need, for I fled as I have told you, with nothing more than my life."

Andrew knelt slowly. The King! And he had...he had....

His world swirled and he fainted dead away, as his mind completed the horrifying thought.

He had just fucked the King of Carlovain!