A Game of Chance

By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM

A lot of the action for the nobles happens not on the tourney field, but inside the various tents. Many of the knights, being the younger sons rather than the heirs of a noble family, and given that they are dependent upon their fathers and older brothers for their daily bread and the very clothes on their backs, are usually barely scraping by, so a large number of them have developed varying skills at games of chance in hopes of increasing their personal income. A tournament thus is an opportunity for them to savage the purses of hopefully innocent fellow nobles who might not have encountered them and their skill level before. Of course, if they misjudge the skill of their opponents, it is them who get skinned.

The servants of such younger knights are in an even more precarious position, the dependent of dependents, their very lives can be fraught with perils that have little or nothing to do with their training.

So it was with young Jogene Henliff, the son of a country peasant who had had the misfortune to be borne a very attractive young boy, so at the age of ten, he had been taken to the lord's mansion and there turned over to the lord for a sum of money in exchange for his service until the age of his adulthood, such youths were greatly in demand as handservants for the nobles and he had been after proper training into the service of young Lord Lucant Harlake who at present was engaged in a game of "Cryptids Aplenty" which combined elements of draw poker, Mahjong and "Old Maid."

The game was played with tiles bearing various creatures of mythology and exotic lands. His opponent was Sir Shorfer Wardace, the eldest son of the Bellnash Wardaces, a rather wealthy family, who could be depended upon to have plenty of money.

Sir Shorfer's own young servant Milzagaran was a beautiful servant from a far-off land with a swarthy complexion of deep creamy brown color and eyes the darkest imaginable shade of brown, far darker than any brown of the peoples of the lands of Aledash. He was not so much handsome as he was exotically beautiful, but virile at the same time, even though he was in the younger teens, as was Jogene himself, now age of thirteen and rather youthfully handsome himself.

Sir Shorfer was eyeing Jogene rather uncomfortably as he stood behind his Master, waiting for some command to fetch him ale or other. Watching while his Master steadily lost to the more canny knight, who evidently had played this game far longer and better than Lord Lucant.

The people in the tent was the four of them, Lord Lucant, his servant Jogene, Sir Shorfer and his dark liege Milzagaran (called Milza by his lord), and a more studly collection of handsome men and boys can be scarce imagined elsewhere.

Lord Lucant had the jet black hair and blue eyes of his mother with the pale skin and strong body and bones of his father who had been a stalwart warrior of the King in his youth, and he had inherited both of their best qualities. He could turn on his smile and his winning ways and often charm all he chose to charm, and if his purse and clothing matched his wit and grace, he would have worked his way into the bedchambers of the highest levels of the realm. But Fortune had failed him on that final point, and so he wore plain but serviceable clothing somewhat faded by their washings, and his hairstyle was not quite the latest thing. It was a problem for him.

Sir Shorfer was half a head taller than Lord Lucan's five foot ten inches in height, and his hair was a flaming red color, his face was good-looking in the burly warrior way, rugged and somewhat battered but that had only added to his somewhat masculine and coarse style of dealing with people, it put off the more cultured women but attracted those who desired the rough ways of a battle-scarred veteran and heavily masculine man, so with those traits paired with his inheritance he fared far better than Lord Lucan.

Jogene was a brown-haired brown-eyed young teen of thirteen years age, his face was handsome in the way that a pair of dice rolled sometimes comes up with a natural twelve, it is rare but not impossible. His face was regular and his cheeks were well-framed, his nose was a small triangle and his lips were full and looked as if they wanted to be kissed even in repose. His eyes were a light brown and made you want to stare into them and plumb their depths which were endless and intoxicating in the way of a kaleidoscope, you saw something different from moment to moment as you looked, always changing. His body was strong and stout but not rounded, rather he looked as if his entire body was all muscle and that he would be powerfully strong when he was an adult. He indeed had more than his share of strength for his age.

Milza has been described before, the dark exotic member of the four, he stood quietly and perfectly still, though Jogene fidgeted about, because Lord Lucant was losing steadily. As it comes to any game of chance sooner or later, Lord Lucant was bereft of coins and looking at his tiles he felt he could carry the round and begged to be allowed to continue on credit.

Sir Shorfor of course scoffed at such an idea. "If you have no coins left, then our game must cease," he said. As he said this, he rested his head on one hand and gazed directly at Jogene who had stooped to pour two tankards of ale for them and cut it with water for the ale was uncut, and his young buttocks were thus exposed to the pair of noblemen.

Lord Lucant saw this and repressed a smile. When Sir Shorfor saw him looking, a faint flush reddened his cheeks but not a deep one, noblemen were permitted their personal desires to a degree that commoners were not.

"If you desire a coin that is not made of silver or gold, then perhaps you would trade for such a coin for silver and gold?" he asked the red-haired knight.

Jogene saw that Lord Lucant meant him and he shivered in fear. To be given as a male prostitute to this big, rough lord's son for a plaything? "My Lord, I beg you to reconsider this!" he said to Lord Lucant in a whisper so loud that the others couldn't help but overhear. Sir Shorfer chuckled but kept silent otherwise. "I don't want to be given to him!"

"You won't be given to him, you young fool," Lord Lucant said. "Have you watched this game so long and not come to learn it?" He showed his servant his tiles and they were a goodly hand though not the highest one. "Now do you see?"

Jogene abated and stood silent as the two made a deal for a fair sized pile of money and the game continued with the understanding that Lord Lucant had to give either the money back or Jogene to him by the game's end at the middle of night bell. Lord Lucant did win the hand and their game continued, on, but Jogene fell asleep from fatigue around ten thirty at night.

He awoke in a strange tent not the one of Lord Lucant, he sat up and realized he had been stripped naked while he slept. His head felt woozy and he realized that the cup of ale he had been offered may have held a soporific that had caused him to fall asleep. A man was with him in the tent and he sat up in some alarm. "Who are you?" he asked in words blurred but understandable.

"You know me, Jogene, don't you?" came the words in the darkness and Jogene stiffened for he did. Sir Shorfor! "You are in my tent, I carried you here at the end of our game at curfew."

"I can guess how the game ended," Jogene said bitterly.

"It did not end as you may think," Sir Shorfor said. "Lord Lucant favored my own servant Milza so he is enjoying my sweet boy's talents in your tent, so I brought you here." There was a movement in his covers and Jogene felt the large nude body of Sir Shorfor brush up against his own. "You don't mind sharing a bed for the one night, do you?"

Jogene sighed. "I suppose this is something a commoner like me must expect to do, so let us get it over with." He turned in the bed toward Sir Shorfor and stroked down the large, muscled, hairy body.

"I am not a man who forces anyone to do anything against his will, and my dark servant Milza pleases me most nights," Sir Shorfor demurred. "If you are dead set against my desires, then we can lie here and I shall be most circumspect, and you can tell Lord Lucant anything you wish."

"No, no, this is to be done, let me do it," Jogene said and he found and gripped the knight's thick pillar, which was properly stiff and eager, having a gem of precome at its tip waiting for the young boy to find it. It touched and dissolved over the side of his hand as he stroked down the shaft and the touch of the drop of liquid manhood sparked something in the reaches of Jogene's soul. He gripped the shaft about halfway down its nine-inch length and began to pump on it with an eager energy and Sir Shorfor gave a long, shuddering groan. "Huhuhuhuhuhuhuhuhuhuhuhuhuh!" he stuttered out as an agonized expression of his desire.

Jogene squirmed to get under the covers and the warmth of Sir Shorfor's body was a palpable presence there, and the strong aroma of his body, a smell of his body scent, of the leather and metal he wore, the horse he rode, all of it had permeated his body so that even though he had taken a bath earlier that very day, he still carried all of those scents and it was an odor that Jogene found immensely attractive. Lord Lucant carried none of this smell, he didn't even own a horse, and the difference was an appeal that Jogene had never felt before. Sir Shorfor was a man of action!

He found his way to the turgid tool and it was there, the scent more powerful than ever, it was the source of the male smell, and it was a major aphrodisiac, and Jogene lifted his head up to the tip of the strong, uncut dong and covered the foreskin and glans, then slipped slowly down the succulent shaft, tasting the horsey hormones that had seeped into the knight's groin to mesh with the human pheromones that lurked there.

"Mmmmmmmmm, you are a marvel for your age, young Jogene," Sir Shorfor groaned as he wormed under the boy's oral ministrations. "Your mouth is as agile as the minnows in the brook, and your speed is as swift as the swallows on the wing. Together they perform a magical delight on my body that is as wondrous as the many stars in the winter sky."

Jogene reached up with one hand to fondle the man's ponderous, hairy nuts, his hand was barely able to hold them both in his fingers, and he massaged and wriggled them about in their moist, flexible scrotal sac and that made the large lusty knight moan and writhe all the more.

Jogene judged he had given the knight sufficient pleasure to make sure he would not lose his erection quickly and that he had moistened the long rod adequately for his needs. He rose up under the covers and, throwing them off of their bare bodies, cast one leg and his body over the larger one of Sir Shorfor, perching atop the taut slim belly of the powerful knight. Jogene then reached behind himself and guided the studly pole of love toward his bowel's sphincter and, as they intersected, Sir Shorfor moaned as Jogene hissed and with a grim look of determination on his young face, ground himself downward onto the rigid member and impaled himself firmly onto the warm, pulsing dong and felt the surging heat driving into his innards like a living animal entering his body.

"Hah! Hah! Hah! Hah!" Sir Shorfor's chest was heaving like a beast, Jogene felt it moving underneath him. "Gentle Jogene, your gift to me is immeasurable in generosity, I repeat, do not do anything you do not wish to do!"

"I want to do this!" Jogene growled in his intensity and to prove it, to himself as much as to the knight, he shoved himself the rest of the way down onto Sir Shorfor's dong, burying it in his body down to the base and shuddering with the feel of that much manhood inside his body, he forced himself to rise up again, pulling it from his body and dragging the foreskin along with his intestinal walls as he rose, causing the burly man beneath him to moan in pleasure.

"Ahhhhh, ahhhh, ahhhhh, ahhhh, kahhhhhhhhhhhh!" Sir Shorfor groaned out as Jogene rose to where only the glans remained inside his bowels. "Such joy arises from such a small movement, and yet I crave more and yet more, be careful, kind child, and do not injure yourself in your eagerness, but I do beg you to move as quickly as you are able."

Jogene lunged back down again to bury the prong inside himself again and then pulled back up again and the knight nearly screamed in his rapture this time, so abrupt and extreme was his joy. He groaned and squirmed, "Kuhhhhhh, uhhhhhhhh, ahhhhhhh, ohhhhhhhhh, hahhhhhhhhhh!" he cried out in a voice that was alarmingly loud in this village of tents that abutted the tournament arena.

Jogene didn't pause, his body had adjusted as much as needed, his pain had abated to a dullness he could tolerate, so he promptly moved back down and rose again and this was repeated as swiftly as such large movements can be done by a young body riding a prodigious prick, and Sir Shorfor was keening and wailing in his amazed amorousness and surprised sensuality, expounding between his groans of ecstasy the amazing virtuosity of Jogene and the agile dexterity he was giving to him in the act of lovemaking, and how little he, a humble knight, deserved such a magnificent lover in such an hour.

Jogene was doing all he could, but he had labored long and hard the day before, a servant is given many tasks at a tournament and sent on many errands that require him to run briskly, that and the long night had tired him, he had not needed any potion to cause him to fall soundly to sleep during the game of Cryptids Aplenty. He slowed in his efforts, and Sir Shorfor, feeling the difference said, "My dearest young lover, you are weary and I do not wish to overbear you, but if I may do so, I would like to take the upper hand in this lovemaking, for my own body is not as tired as yours, and I can complete this for both of us, but I say once again if you wish me to end this, say but the word and I shall yet stop and use my own hand to complete myself."

"Ah, ah, ah, all right!" Jogene agreed. He lay down on the large, muscled, heaving chest and the strong man rolled them both over on the padded mattress and was atop of Jogene, and the boy clutched the powerful chest barrel with his arms and his slender legs perched on the thick powerful thighs and he held onto the man as if he were holding onto a shelf of rock above a heavy chasm of rampaging ocean waters, where to hold on meant his life and to release meant certain death.

For Sir Shorfor, though, this position meant that he could finally use his muscular body for more than the simple reception of pleasure, he could now chase joy actively and increase it by his efforts. Jogene had loosened up his bowels by his own efforts atop Sir Shorfor and the way was clear for the knight to begin to thrust his manly lance into the boy with all the speed and power that his massive body could bring to bear.

Now it was Jogene's turn to cry out in his joy, for the movements of Sir Shorfor were moving his thick cock so that his prostate gland was being buffeted at a brisk rate of speed that overbore any lingering discomfort given by the size of the pole battering it. The twin lobs of the gland reacted by shooting lightning bolts of raw ecstasy straight into Jogene's pleasure center and the youth gasped and cried out, "Uhh, uhh, uhh, uhh, uhh, uhh, uhh, uhh, uhh, uhh, uhh!" in short bursts of pleasure not of pain.

"Huh, huh, huh, huh, huh, huh, huh, huh!" Sir Shorfor grunted as he thrust in at the same rapid rate as the sparks of rapture, and his grunts were also borne not of effort but of the extreme joy he was gaining from being able to bury the entirety of his nine inches into Jogene's sweet bowels at every thrust and yet the youth continued to cry out for more and more.

How long this went on neither one could say, for time is lost in the swirling universe of pre-orgasmic euphoria, the cosmos of climactic elation, the galaxy of ecstatic exhilaration. What could mere seconds or minutes mean when the mind is walking amidst the very pillars of creation? All that matters is that the bodies of the two were caught up in the joys together and as their raptures rose, they rose as one, so when they climbed to the very apex of the altar of attainment, they did so hand in hand.

"Ahhhh-ahhhh-ahhhh-ahhhh-ahhhh!" Jogene cried out.

"Uhhhh-uhhhh-uhhhh-uhhhh-uhhhh!" Sir Shorfor groaned.

"AHHH=AHHH-AHHH-AHHH!"

"UHHH-UHHH-UHHH-UHHH!"

"AH-HAH-HAH-HAH!"

"UH-HUH-HUH-HUH!"

"HAH-HAH-AH!"

"UH-UH-UH!"

"AHHHH-AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Jogene sprayed out his young spray of jizz, heavy with seminal fluid but rich in quantity, it sprayed out in all directions from the tip of his glans and doused both servant and knight all over, from their necks to their navels with the heady rich liquid of young teenaged delight.

"UHHHH-UHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Sir Shorfor's come was much heavier and thicker in its reserve of wriggling tadpoles of microscopic sperm, and that caused the wads to jet out in discrete packets of spurts that pelted the insides of Jogene's young rectal walls, hitting like pellets of disobedient schoolchildren firing spitballs at their teacher whose back is turned at the blackboard, splat-splat-splatsplat-splat-splat!

Both man and boy were writhing and insensate as to the damage their love seed was doing without and within to their bodies, but it all ended shortly after it began and Sir Shorfor slumped onto Jogene, catching his body soon after impact, so that Jogene felt the heavy weight for but a second, and it was removed, the large man hovering over him, the thick lusty breath bathing him in the way of a hot summer wind off a desert, and then he rolled back to where he had been before, and panted along side the gasping Jogene, both of them exhausted and winded, seizing oxygen in big breaths and oblivious to all else.

Sir Shorfor recovered first and he rolled onto his side and placed a big, strong hand on Jogene's chest. "I am grateful for this gift you have given me," he said softly. "Rest now, little one, and know that you are safe with me this night and the rest of the tourney, for none may mistreat you but that they would feel my wrath."

Jogene was then embraced by the strong arms and he slept serenely in the powerful embrace, feeling it odd that this knight, who had bought his services in a game of chance, would feel this solicitous and grateful to him for providing the services he had purchased.

He was feted the next morning by the knight, who fed him delicacies that he had eaten only small tidbits of before in his life, and rarely, but this morning his entire meal was of them, served by the servant Milza. Lord Lucant showed up at the end of the meal and was amused to see his servant being so honored, but had some of the food, and then bade Jogene to accompany him back to his own tent.

"I trust you enjoyed your night at Sir Shorfor's tent," Lord Lucant said. "He seemed to have enjoyed yours."

"Well, what else was he to do, seeing how he bought me at your game of chance last night." Jogene said, remembering his bitterness at being treated as chattel the night before.

Lord Lucant looked at him in some surprise. "Bought you? But he didn't? That round was my change of luck and I redeemed you in full about the time you fell asleep. We had to stop at curfew and he was down some two hundred pieces of gold. I gave him fifty to spend the night with Milza who doesn't mind being sold like that for a third of the price, and since I wanted the tent for us alone, Sir Shorfor agreed to carry you to his tent for the night. I trust he treated you well?"

Jogene was astounded, and thought again of the words the knight had said the night before and realized that what Lord Lucant said was true. Lord Lucant expected an answer, so he said, "Yes, he treated me very well, My Lord. A very pleasant night, I never slept better."

That was the simple truth, after all.

THE END
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