Gadzooks!
By Verity
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Copyright 2013 by Verity, all rights reserved
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This work is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It may contain depictions of
sexual activity
involving minors. If you are not of a legal age in your locality to
view such material or
if such material does not appeal to you, do not read further, and do
not save this
story.
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Gadzooks!
by Verity
A medieval extravaganza.
Thirteen-year-old Alaric takes service as a page in a glittering court, but his
duties are more varied than he had expected, especially after all his clothes
are permanently taken away.
To the rhythmic
clatter of harness and the steady tramp of hooves, the procession moved ponderously onward. At its head rode
Sir Godfrey, his scarlet cloak blowing, the standard bearer to his left. At Sir
Godfrey’s right hand rode his young page, resplendent in his court livery.
But the boy was
unusually silent. It was his first day of duty as a
page, and the morning had not begun well. The new page had omitted to pack the
knight’s ceremonial gilt chain-mail, and the knight’s face was set in hard
lines of displeasure.
At length he spoke. ‘So, because of the
carelessness of his pup of a page, Godfrey of Bodfrey must travel through
hostile peasant country unprotected by his stout mail, is that not so?’
‘Sorry. I thought you said ‘pail’,’ said
the boy apologetically.
‘Oh, very well, I can just put my head in
the pail, then?’ snapped the knight. ‘Perhaps, though, you might have been
considerate enough to cut eyeholes in it?’
Unwisely the page laughed.
‘So I have a jester now,’ said the knight
angrily. ‘Whether or not, you shall most certainly entertain us all this
evening.’
‘Yes?’ queried the boy.
‘Yes, indeed. This evening you shall dance
and sing naked before the entire company, but the music shall be the rhythm of
my stout leather belt on thy pretty buttocks. So you shall indeed caper
wondrously for us. And you shall sing, oh, how you shall sing!’
The boy gulped, then drew himself up. ‘It
would not be fitting, sir, that I should be whipt before all the company and
the servants.’
‘And why not, sir?’
‘Because, my lord, I am not a scullery
boy,’ said the thirteen-year-old youngster with dignity. ‘I am page to a great
lord, a very great lord.’ He looked sideways at the knight. ‘Perhaps the
greatest lord in the whole land.’
The knight was silent for a moment, then
laughed. ‘Truly, boy, you have a smooth tongue in your head.’
The procession wound onward, but more
slowly, on rising ground; the castle of Earl Snootley, for which the company
was bound, stood halfway up a tall mountain.
‘The earl will prepare a fine banquet, my
lord?’ ventured the page after several minutes.
‘Truly, boy,’ said the knight amiably, ‘And
you, too, shall have your share.’
‘Deo gratias.’ The youngster, encouraged,
chattered on. ‘I know all about Earl Snootley, my lord.’
‘Oh, so thou knowest everything, bold
page?’
‘Yes,’ said the boy simply. ‘I was a page
before, and we talk, you know. We meet at banquets, markets, joustings, and I
hear all manner of things.’
‘Indeed?’ The brat could have his uses,
thought the knight. ‘So tell me, sir, what thou knowest about my lord
Snootley.’
‘Oh, he is a great, great lord. So great is
he that his young pages attend him quite naked. Oh, very great indeed!’
‘Indeed?’ repeated the knight thoughtfully.
The procession travelled on in silence for a little longer, then Sir Godfrey
called an hour-long halt.
The horses, wagons and ox-carts drew into a
semi-circle in a forest clearing; the women brought out bread and cold meats,
and the men poured beer.
Sir Godfrey ordered the page to collect
wood and light a fire. When it was crackling merrily he said, ‘Now, Sir Page,
give me thine embroidered doublet.’
The knight carefully put the liveried
garment away, then said, ‘Now, off with the rest of thy clothes, boy, and on
the fire with them.’
‘WHAT?’
‘On the fire, quickly.’
‘Everything?’
‘Keep thy cap and slippers for now, also of
course the jewel of office at thy neck, but otherwise, from now henceforth,
thou shalt attend me naked.’
The boy groaned. ‘Why cannot I hold my
tongue?’ He glanced shyly towards the company, but they were preoccupied with
their food, conversation, and jesting. Slowly he peeled off his few clothes,
then nude and blushing slightly, he reluctantly dropped them one by one on the
leaping flames. Fortunately, it was a moderately warm day.
‘Now, come hither, boy.’
The naked youngster approached the knight
and the latter placed an arm round his shoulders. ‘Before we continue onward,
pretty page, I must deal with the matter of your appalling carelessness this
morning.’
Stooping forward, he slid his palm down
over the boy’s chest and stomach; the young page gasped as the knight’s hand
reached its target. Then the knight began to smack, at first gently, then more
forcefully.
The boy began to yell, his feet running on
the grass, but in front he rose up very quickly, so that in a moment of two the
man’s palm was smacking the underside. The man slapped on, the boy’s cries
redoubled, then the knight abruptly stopped smacking, took a tight grip, and
began to work diligently and rapidly.
The nude boy’s entire body writhed. ‘Yes!’
he yelled after a moment or two, ‘Yes! YES! YES!!’
Then he screamed and convulsed, clutching
the man tightly with both arms round his neck.
Shortly after, at a signal from the knight,
an attendant came forward and wiped the tingling boy down with a scented towel.
The procession in due course moved on, the boy sniffing a
little. ‘I still smart, my lord,’ he said woefully.
‘I rejoice to hear it.’
‘My lord,’ ventured the boy, ‘The next
time, can I get it on my bottom?’
‘There had better not be a next time,’ said
Sir Godfrey shortly.
The boy became subdued as the mighty castle
of Earl Snootley rose on the horizon, and a horn blew from the battlements to
greet the visitors. He had begun, suddenly, to wonder whether the accounts
about the earl’s household, and the naked pages, had after all been true. What
if it had just been a leg-pull? It didn’t bear thinking about.
But, as the party entered the castle
through the Great Hall, the boy soon saw that the young pages, namely those of
around his own age and younger, wore nothing but a cap and slippers. And
sometimes, when indoors, not even these, though all wore around their necks the
glittering earl’s jewel. Older boys and adult attendants wore the conventional
doublet and hose.
Earl Snootley greeted his visitors in
person as soon as they entered. With him was a pretty girl of about fourteen,
whom the duke introduced as his niece, the Princess Alida. The princess looked
the nude young page up and down with undisguised interest, and to his
embarrassment Alaric felt a blush rising up his neck and covering his face. He
had not bargained for this.
‘Well, here is indeed a fine present you
have brought for me, good Sir Knight,’ said Princess Alida, her eyes still on
the naked page. Reaching forward, she touched his hair, running the long blond
strands through her fingers.
‘Be silent, Alida,’ said the earl mildly.
To the knight he said, ‘Friend Godfrey of Bodfrey, pray excuse my niece. These
young girls grow bolder by the day.’
‘Your niece is quite perfect in every way,
my lord, said the knight gallantly.
‘Turn around, pretty page,’ said the girl,
unabashed.
The boy, his blush deepening, had no option
but to turn this way and that under the girl’s gaze.
‘He too is perfect, Sir Knight,’ said the
princess to Sir Godfrey. ‘He will dance for us at the banquet?’
‘If I too may speak with boldness, Your
Highness, he will certainly dance if I take my belt to him.’
‘Oh, you cruel man,’ pouted the princess.
‘Yes, I truly must rescue this poor page from your horrible clutches.’
‘Alida, my dear,’ said the earl. ‘Pray go
and help your good mother with the preparations.’
The princess laughed, shook her hair loose,
made a face at the earl, and departed with a wave.
‘I shall see thee anon, pretty page!’
‘Truly, friend Godfrey,’ said the earl,
‘Thy page may not be the only one with scarlet buttocks by nightfall.’
‘Perhaps we may both have mercy, my lord,’
said the knight.
The earl laughed and turned to the young
page. ‘Thy name, boy?’
‘Alaric of Noxley, my lord.’
‘Welcome, Alaric of Noxley. See thou dine
well.’
‘I thank you, my lord.’
As at most banquets, Alaric dined twice.
First, together with the other pages and the upper servants, there was a dinner
in the kitchen before the main event, and then another after it (based on the
leftovers, which were usually plentiful). It was a popular arrangement.
At the banquet itself each page, as usual
attired in nothing but his jewel of office, stood each behind his master to
bring the dishes and attend to all his orders.
One course followed another, to a dizzying
total. The last was, for each diner, a dish heaped with fresh strawberries,
covered with thick cream iced in the castle cellars.
An attendant offered the earl a long-handled
silver spoon, but he waved it aside and cried, ‘Nay, my lords, there is but one
way to sup the best cream. Behold!’
At a signal, an attendant bodily picked up
a twelve-year-old page who stood behind the earl, and, sweeping dishes from the
table, laid the youngster face-down before the earl, at which the earl
immediately began to spread iced cream liberally all over and deeply between
the boy’s squirming bottom-cheeks, then started diligently to lick it off,
every drop, from every nook and cranny. The nude youngster writhed, kicked and
shrieked, but with delighted laughter, and Alaric guessed he had served this
function on more than one previous occasion.
The company applauded wildly as the earl at
length raised his face, still dripping with cream. Only the Bishop of Blotting,
a distinguished guest seated at the earl’s right hand, remained grave.
‘Nay, my lord, I beg a thousand pardons,’
he said at length, ‘But I do know an even more excellent way to sup cream.’
The earl raised his eyebrows. ‘Then I beg
thee to share thy secret, my lord bishop!’
‘Benedictus benedicat,’ murmured the
bishop. Then he rose, and with a heave picked up the nearest page, a boy
perhaps of Alaric’s age, and spread him wriggling on the table, but this time
on his back. Busy action by the episcopal fingers, both on top and below,
quickly brought the desired response, and only then did the bishop reach for
the dish of iced cream, the youngster yelling at the cold shock as the cream
was generously applied, and with great thoroughness. After which the bishop
bent his head as if to pronounce grace, but instead he started to lick up
generous quantities of cream, and then, with his lips fastened tightly on their
object, the bishop’s large head started to work diligently up and down to the
AH-AH-AAAH-ing of the naked kicking youngster underneath. Very soon the boy’s
cries redoubled until, with a scream, his slim body went rigid and jack-knifed,
bringing a burst of applause that rang throughout the Great Hall.
‘My Lords,’ roared the earl, rising to his
feet, ‘It is my command that all follow
the ritual of the most holy lord bishop! Let none be slack!’
Amid a cacophony of yells, a score of naked
pubescent imps were snatched up and spreadeagled face-up on the vast oak table,
one before each diner. Princess Alida, who sat on the earl’s left, made a
signal and instantly Alaric also was bodily picked up by two stout servants,
being in an instant spread on the top table before the princess.
With brisk administrations of the
princess’s nimble fingers, Alaric was almost immediately ready, then the boy
yodelled at the top of his voice as the ice-cold cream was spread and heaped in
place, then even more at the vigorous attention of the princess’s lips and
tongue as her head moved rapidly up and down, ever more and more diligently.
Then ‘NO TEETH! PLEASE!!’ screamed the nude
young page. But the princess was remorseless, as were the other diners, and
very soon the entire hall echoed with a crescendo of ecstatic shrieks, in which
Alaric very quickly joined, joined, his bottom thumping on the wooden table,
his long legs flailing, his feet pedalling the air.
Someone, it may have been the earl, came up
behind Alida and, with a quick movement, made her stand, grasped her light
dress, pulled it over her head, and whisked it completely away. Under it she
was completely naked, and Alaric’s eyes popped.
The princess pulled Alaric’s hand towards
her and downwards.
‘You know what to do,’ she whispered.
Alaric did know. In a moment his arm was
pistoning back and forth, his fingers working deep and frenziedly, and very
shortly later the screams of the nude teenager as she jolted and convulsed, her
feet hammering the floor, exceeded even those of Alaric’s a minute before.
Calmly the earl drained his flagon and dabbed
his lips with a fine linen cloth. ‘More dessert, anyone?’ he asked.
Next morning, Princess Alida sought Sir
Godfrey out in the rose garden.
‘Good Sir Knight, it is my custom that, the
morrow being Saturday, I invite to the castle gardens certain maidens, dear
friends of mine, and there we do make great sport and merriment. It would be
our delight to have a new plaything, therefore I pray that I might borrow thy
pretty page, all naked.’
‘With the greatest of pleasure, Your
Highness,’ said Godfrey of Bodfrey.
(The End)