The Chivalrous Code of Justain Chamberlain - Chapter 1 (Patreon)
Content
The Chamberlain manor was in an uproar the likes of which hadn’t been seen for decades within its high rising walls. That, in and of itself was no small feat, given that the centuries old building was more than prone to seeing its fair share of excitement, such as to be expected in the lavish mansion of the family that so often hosted feasts and parties the likes of which even stood to make the crown prince of the Chai kingdom quite amazed at the drunken revelry and decadent, gaudy bliss that was so lavishly enjoyed.
However, it must have been expected from a house of such monumental status, second only to the Kingdom’s royals to be so famed and prone to boisterous visitors and exciting escapades shared within its walls. The Chamberlains were, undoubtedly, the country’s most prestigious and well known house of Magic Knights, the most sought after and heralded class of the land’s unfathomably powerful military might, a class made up of the infinitesimally small fraction of a fraction that were blessed with the golden tears of the old Gods, the divine dew which granted a prodigious strength and affinity in the Arcane arts the likes of which most could not achieve with several lifetimes of single minded training to advance their skills.
Amongst that already tiny portion of men and women who were revered like Gods in human flesh, their fantastical powers striking awe into the masses as they weaved together spells that the most weathered of mages would take days to prepare in mere minutes and, practically with nothing but their own forces, advanced the kingdom of Chai from the meager fiefdom it once was a millenia ago to one of the Solstice’s greatest superpowers, stood the Chamberlains at the very peak of their pecking order. There was not a single generation of Chamberlains who, since the very creation of the Magic Knights’ military division, would not have been awarded a medal of honor and a place in the history books for their awesome contribution to the nation’s goals, each brood of the family would have brought with it at least one legendary magic talent amongst them, and as the saying went both in and out of the halls of the Chamberlain manor.
“If you want an easy bet, put your money on the Chamberlains.”
For a house of such enormous prestige, and of course, mountains worth of wealth that would perhaps outweigh the size of their expansive 12 acre estate, one would expect that the most pressing problems that would assail the clan would be little more than the trivial social minutia of deciding whether to attend the Duke of Oolong’s annual peace ceremony or the Baron of Rooibos’ daughter’s coming of age party where the poor girl’s parents would no doubt try to marry her off to any eligible bachelors that could be found among the family.
It was an enormously successful, decadently glamorous, frustratingly boring and uneventful life. So much so that the lady of the house, the honorable Duchess Olga Chamberlain, a woman known for her vibrant nature as Chai’s premier hostess (as well as for being an infamous scatterbrain whose intellect on all topics not concerned with the intricate art of social climbing and party planning was dwarfed by about the power of ten by the size of her literally bodice-ripping tits), at the barest hint of an upset to the usual state of stability within the family, would rant, rave and dramatically gasp to the heavens as though the very fabric that held the world together was coming undone at its seams.
Was this a massive overreaction of extreme proportions, often driven by Lady Olga’s insistent desire for attention and excitement in a life surrounded by stuffy old diplomats and a husband who seemed more concerned with kissing ass to the royal family than fucking hers into the ground like she secretly dreamed about after a long day reading steaming, panty-ruining erotica that had no business being put anywhere near a public library where some poor child could potentially see it? Well, yes, of course it was. And sir Archer Chamberlain, the head of the manor, had grown quite resolute in his vow to never take her seriously beyond referring her to a servant who she could rant about her mundane problems to when she stormed into his office with some inane complaint pouring out of her mouth too quickly for her husband to pick out a single word of in the sea of word vomit she was spilling out.
Today, as she banged down the double doors and made Archer curse to himself, thinking in the back of his mind that he had to fire that carpenter he asked to reinforce the locks to the office’s entrance, and at the realization that he could no longer remember his name nor face, instead resolved that he may very well rid himself of the lot of them, Archer was ready once more to write off his wife and busy himself with the task of writing a flattering letter to that furry-browed retainer of that backwater Sencha kingdom. Or at least, he was until, in the midst of the blathering avalanche of overexaggerated analogies and snide, snobbish remarks intermingled with distracted gossip about how tacky the Duchess Eleanor had been with her niece’s wedding ceremony just because the poor girl so happened to have suffered a miscarriage an entire six months ago that she still hadn’t gotten over, he heard something that actually merited enough concern for him to sit up in his chair and go ramrod silent over.
“Darling, you are not going to like what I saw from Justain’s school report…”
—
Justin Chamberlain, the youngest in a slew of golden children who were destined for perfect grades, an arranged marriage with the perfect partner, and a prestigious diploma upon his graduation from the perfect Magic Knights’ training academy, Griffin-spine Akademia, which might have then lent him the slightest modicum of affection and praise from his utterly perfect parents to validate his nineteen years spent tirelessly attempting to please them, was in a very big jam.
Of course, nothing relating to a downturn in his performance. He was a chamberlain for God’s sake, in their house, the mere idea of stagnating or regressing in any way, shape or form may very well have been tantamount to defiling the corpse of the first head of their family. No, as always, Justin was a picture of perfect excellence in every measurable degree one could assess in a student. His grades were stellar, both in his practical combat trials and the banal schoolwork he secretly loathed, he was sociable and well-liked…if only because the stature of his family made it such that many felt obligated to put up with his pompous antics and find something to admire in his presence, and his extracurriculars, which of course consisted of refined hobbies befitting an aristocrat like polo, embroidering, and all manner of methods the elderly turned to to entertain themselves in the scant few years before their untimely deaths, were all going quite swimmingly.
So then…what was it that had the young student pacing about his living quarters, feet pitter pattering about as his loosely hung trainee robes fluttered across his small, svelte form and his dimpled, freckly cheeks pouted softly in a manner that made him look much cuter than he probably might have intended? That could be attributed to a new presence within the perfectly curated ecosystem of guaranteed favor and success that had entrapped him his entire life, the figure that had begun to haunt his mind in his dreams as he swore vengeance for the slight made on his pristinely polished honor and pride by that foul miscreant…the living embodiment of the crass, unseemly vagrants who were the essence of all that was wrong with their kingdom, Reese Hearkley.
Uhck…Just the syllables that made up his name in its awfully inelegant and woefully ill-formed structure bouncing about in Justain’s head made him feel nauseous. Justain, for his part, was a young man who fancied himself as having the spirit of a deeply aged soul, and neither the wisdom nor the boisterous youthful energy that either extreme of age would usually tend to have. He admired beauty, the arts, and above all, the knightly principles of chivalry and honor which the Magic Knights were based upon, so much so that he’d practically memorized line by line what he considered to be the greatest book ever written, Sir Igris Wilhelm’s Grand introduction to the virtues and customs of Knighthood…a book that had long since gone out of publishing and been quietly disavowed by the Magic Knights corps for its more…problematic sections, though Justain was firm in his belief that such actions could only be drawn from the plebeian masses misinterpreting the musings of a true genius!
The very same masses that he saw the worst traits of embodied in that disgusting peasant who he dared not even address as his “rival”. Reese was, as would be expected, everything contrary to Justain’s very existence, a lowborn peasant born in the sticks of some unremarkable bordertown between the Chai kingdom and its far less wealthy, undignified neighbors in the backwater province of Matcha, the son of a lowly logger who inherited the burly frame and finely molded musculature of a fully grown man who had been hard at work razing trees to the ground since the very day his fingers could move to hold an axe in his hands. His skin was a fine bronze that spoke to how often he trained in the hot sun, meaty mallet hands the size of Justain’s entire head capping his thick forearms corded with engorged veins that led up to arms that looked like heavy wine barrels and which remained constantly exposed by that little miscreant rolling up the sleeves of his magus robes and making a mockery off the uniform in his effort to show off.
If he was merely a thuggish brute with a middling talent for magic who just so happened to have landed himself in this academy, perhaps Justain would give no more thought to it than a glib remark on how the corps must have been truly desperate for new recruits if they would accept such riff-raff into their ranks. But more offensive still than that, and even more utterly infuriating to think of when his clear inability to grasp the higher concepts of magic beyond simple mana infusion. Was the fact that such an honorless peon dared to outdo him!
Yes, loathe as he was to say it, by some supreme cosmic fault or long overdue punishment of the heavens sent to decimate the young Chamberlain’s pride to a pulp. Somehow, that know-nothing hick piece of trash who had spent more time in his life cutting down trees like an overgrown beaver was at the top of their class in almost every metric! Grades, combat exercises, practical magic application…and the little bastard hadn’t dared to learn any spells beyond the most basic tenants of physical amplification! He wielded the fine arcane arts like they were little more than another farm tool meant to enhance the blessed strength of the pistoning power running through his giant muscles!
It was a shocking and appalling revelation to come to terms with when he realized that, through a number of technicalities and unwritten clauses of the academy’s testing policy, NONE of the courses required mastery of spells beyond a simple grade C ranking to pass…or even to excel! Such an undignified oversight was against the core tenants of chivalry lined out in the code of Knighthood…specifically article 1 (b) (2) clause IV…not that it mattered considering such a thing should have been basic common sense!
It was a crushing enough sight to see his grades posted up on the building’s central bulletin board, darting his eyes straight to that golden 1 spot he knew was reserved for men of his standing and finding his name swept beneath that of he who shall not be named, his dark mop of jet black hair falling over one of his sea-green eyes in a thick bundle of bangs, freckled cheeks dimpling with a wrathful frown that grew and grew with each other subject he saw himself bested in. That had been a week ago, and since then he’d shut himself in the confines of his room, whipping between shameful bouts of self-hatred and conspiratorial theories on how Reese must have accomplished this feat by some manner of foul play.
Today though, he had finally broken out of that cycle for a much more cataclysmic line of thought that buried his mind beneath the awful possibilities it held.
“T-they can’t have seen my report, right? Don’t be ridiculous Justain, those were published two days ago, I’m sure even mother wouldn’t be such a bored little busybody as to scour through those things when she knows you’re ALWAYS top of the class. Well…formerly top of the class. Gah! This is nothing to fret over, you’re a chamberlain. Article 8 (d) section 4 VI of the codes of chivalry…a chivalrous knight must always present the vision of calm, collectedness and strength even in times where they are anything…”
A knock on his door came that broke him out of his reverie, and the words spoken from the person on the other side, a mousey young lady who seemed to be…giggling for some reason? Opening the tiny trap opening into Justain’s door and sliding in an envelope along with her brief message.
“Prism transmission for you, sir Chamberlain! Looks to be a check in from your father! We don’t usually allow those near this time of year but the provost was adamant about it.”
“Even in times where they are anything but…” Justain grumbled out within the confines of his mind, silently heaping more praise onto the masterful writer who put to page such words of wisdom, as he was met with the indescribable weight of the difficulty in adhering to them for what may have been the first time in his life.
—
Admitting to the bitter truth had been difficult enough, but when his mother, with full approval from his father as he glowered over his child with the bushy edges of his exaggerated handlebar moustache ruffling in the wind (for what felt like the first time in ages), interrogated him as to how he could have disgraced the chamberlain name and to whom he had lost the guaranteed position of victor in all life’s many competitive virtues as a member of the family, then things began to truly fall apart.
“My child…not merely bested in every metric judging a Magic Knight’s competency…but by a wood-chopping commoner!?” Archer gruffly asserted, speaking for the first time with a look of palpable disappointment and rage bubbling just below the surface, nearly penetrating his ever-present exterior of cool, stoic authority his presence constantly emanated.
The crystal prism positioned on the floor projected a shimmering, translucent image of his parents as they took in his words, a look of utter horror on Olga’s face while Archer merely boiled with a silent, enraged heat that threatened to singe off his incredibly curly whiskers.
“Egads! How could you have let yourself fall so far, son? Some mere…rugged, uncouth, tree-felling bastard encroaching upon our house and razing it to sunders with his strength…i-Is that what you want for our family, son! Think of what all the good lady duchesses would think if I ever mentioned your name at our tea parties with such a disgrace!” Olga began, shaking herself out of her fantasizing stupor as she became aware of the eyes of Archer and Justain eyeing her with a sideways look. Of course, she was more excited than she’d ever been in the past decade, but that didn’t mean she had to make them aware of it! That could be saved for her infamous gossip sessions (or “tea parties” as she called them) with all the biggest busybodies the Chai aristocracy had!
“...In any case, your mother is absolutely correct. Of course, no commoners could stand against our household, but for you to allow one to surpass you like this. That sets an absolutely awful precedent…goodness, I should have realized that not nipping all of that obsession with that silly little Knight’s guide you always loved early would have its consequences. Clearly you’ve been too busy living in that fantasy world of yours to sit up and show the true potential of our family…gallivanting about like a would-be Don Quixote…”
“Father! I…I have erred, I know that. I brought dishonor to our family’s name, but the Knight’s code is an integral piece of our history as Magic Knights! This has nothing to do with that…”
“Do you know what’s also part of our history, Justain? Being uneducated, bumbling cavemen rubbing sticks together in the dead of night and making war with pointy sticks and stones. I never wanted to be the one to tell you this, I thought you’d grow out of your dreamy little phase when you were younger like your brother did…”
Justain pursed his lips and held back the bitter slew of insults he had for Ezekiel, his father always compared him to his older brother, and he was only a small step above a common miscreant like Reese, a Magic Knight who was all power with no principles and who he never wanted to resemble.
“But clearly, I was wrong. This is your second year in this academy and you stand to graduate as second place at this rate. Normally, I would send help to ensure that whatever this little peasant has done to secure the position meant for our family is found out and he is promptly expelled…but today, I feel quite content to leave you to deal with this issue on your own. And if you somehow manage to bring further disgrace upon us…well, you remember how your uncle got stationed on the frigid slopes of that icy wasteland Keemun? It would surely be a shame if such an unfortunate bout of luck were to come upon you, son. Fix this problem quickly, I care not for if your solution preserves that childish notion of honor you’ve been clinging onto.” Archer firmly huffed out, the transmission cutting out abruptly and leaving Justain with the weight of that command, and the sunken feeling that had been left at his father’s merciless disavowal of the tenants upon which he based his entire life upon.
But how could he blame him for that? He had clearly disgraced the words he claimed to live by with his actions, a chivalrous Knight? Bested by a mere commonfolk? Who would hear the lectures of such a man on the way to best embody the dignified presence of a true Knight…
Or at least, not without action to back up his words. Actions that perfectly followed the ambit of the Knight’s code, actions that would have Reese kneeling at his feet and begging for mercy, his father rescinding his cruel words and proclaiming how utterly, profoundly wrong he was to doubt his son’s code of chivalry, and his brother finally admitting how much of an uncultured fool he was and giving up the seat of heir to the house to its true, rightful owner.
And with that image in his mind, forgetting just how absurdly improbable it was, Justain rose with a renewed vigor and thumping motivation pumping in his lithe little chest, pulling free the thick-covered block of text that was his personal copy of the Knight’s code and already formulating his plan of how handedly he would best Reese and regain his lost honor.
—
However, to overcome the beastly vision of his humiliating defeat, Justain of course had to confront it. And that meant, as much as he hated it, making his way into the beast’s den to tackle it head on…which meant meeting Reese in the foul-smelling domain of sweat and musk that he had practically monopolized to himself.
The derelict school gym (the non magic-training one at least) had been built decades ago in a comparatively small basement corner of the academy utterly dwarfed by the boundless depths of the nearby school library, and for the most part, before the past year, it was little more than a dust-basin stuffed to the brim with rusting metal works and other unused training equipment. It had been built with an eye to the fact that some low level magic spells could benefit from their caster bearing a stronger body with which he could handle the power of raw mana flowing across their body to allow superhuman physical prowess…but with the much more attractive powers of levitation, telepathy, pyromancy and all manner of other spells that could accomplish the very same things with far less effort placed into working one’s body into aching soreness multiple times a week…it wasn’t much of a surprise that it quickly fell into disuse with most of the academy’s alumni.
Until Reese came in of course, and ruined all that was good with the constant, clanging sound of giant metal discs banging off the ground and his obscene, overblown, beastlike grunts as he pushed himself to the limit and lugged around gigantically burdensome weights so heavy that the echoing THUDS released when he deigned to let them go would literally send tremors through the school that could knock back many a student as they traversed to the next lecture in their schedule.
Even now, he could hear and FEEL the rumble crashing into the floor and the baritone grunts carried through Reese’s voice. The gigantic mountain of a man whose body and strength belied his supposed status as a 19 year old. His nostrils were assaulted by a pungent musk that had him ready to meet a pigsty of sweat, filth, and trashed jock-straps surrounding dirty, derelict makeshift barbells racked up on every set-up he had, and a part of him relished the thought that he might have embarrassed him by showing him just how pathetic he was, putting in so much effort into a vulgar display of unrefined power entirely bested by the grace and beauty of the higher magic arts, alone, filthy and isolated from his peers like the pariah he was…
Only, as Justain slammed open the door to the gym and let the heavy scent of salty sweat waft over him to be met with the sight of…
A cleaner gym than he’d ever seen? Lined with well-kept weights from end to end and filled by rows upon rows of other students? All smooth-faced, doe-eyed female students from every year and course in the academy…and worse still than that, they were all dressed in the most stunningly inappropriate attire he could imagine!
Buxom breasts were clad in low cut tank tops that left giant, jiggling crevices of creamy tittymeat bounding up from that fabric with every pump they gave on the bench press, midriffs exposed to show toned, trim bellies and the odd few smoothly pudgy stomachs that still retained their feminine curvature by virtue of the supremely super-sized hips all clad into various colors and contours designed to cling onto those phat, pound-padding fuck-spheres for asses they had to show off and giving a view of the ripe camel-toe that formed their squishy slut-slits stuffed between the crevice of their mountainous ass-mounds and thick thighs as they bent over exaggeratedly for their gaudy “deadlift” form. It…it was a obscenely sexy display that made Justain’s cock want to fucking explode in its pants just watching them total disgrace to the graceful, swanlike nature of chastity that a female Knight must embody!
Even more awful to see was what they were all doing, crowded around the enormous figure of a 6’5, lumbering hulk of a man that could only be Reese himself, bent over and wrapping his hands around a barbell weighed down by more than seven magically densified plates on each side, the bar literally bending on either side, gaggles of feminine “oooh’s” and “aaah’s” as over a dozen bright, wide eyes fluttered up at Reese’s bulging, behemoth-sized shoulders. Justain rolled his eyes for a moment, astounded that these women could be so easily lulled into crooning like a bunch of shameless little sluts by some grunting gorilla of a man…though, the judgmental tone he held in his mind didn’t stop him from watching just as intently, Reese’s rugged jaw lined with thick, scraggly hairs that formed the beginnings of a majestic beard soon to form in the next few years clamping tight and hard, his perfect, pearly white teeth shining as veins bulged atop his forehead and he heaved up what had to be an almost five ton barbell from the floor before letting it smash down to the floor with a heavy CLANG!!
“That’s it Reese, you’re almost there! Just three more reps! You look soooo good carrying all that weight around! Totally not like those skinny dweebs in my alchemy class!”
Justain was pretty sure that voice belonged to Jane Faust, the premiere summoning expert of the second years (excluding Justain, of course), an heir to a noble family of such high standing even his mother, with her lofty expectations for which woman was good enough to breathe next to her sweet baby boys, had pushed for her as a potential marriage candidate for him. Last he remembered she was regal, refined and bearing a quiet competence about her in her oversized mage’s robes, if he was being honest with himself, Justin found her to be rather cute before, in a mousy, girlish sort of way…
Now though? He felt like he had to cast an umbrix Memoria spell just to connect the image of the woman he saw now to that. Buxom breasts in a tight, skin-hugging tank-top, an utterly gigantic rear covered in pale white leggings with such exaggerated hourglass hips that it couldn’t even fully cover her jumbo-sized jiggle-shelf and leaving a very generous opening of her ass-crack that Justain watched curiously as it popped in tandem with every other girl forming the enormous crowd around Reese, every single one similarly changed from the modest young ladies he was so accustomed to seeing was warped into pornographic icons of hyper-feminine sexuality, and every last one cheering on the dominant figure of masculine power in the room as his barbell crashed into the floor for the last time.
“Ohhhh Gawd~ That must have been soooo tough Reese! You just lifted more than most archmage Knights could push with a high level telekinesis spell! Mmmm…and your muscles feel all tense and hard and sweaty…how about you hop in the sauna for a little rest baby? I’ve been working on my pyromancy, so I could heat it up all nice and toasty for you while you gimme that special protein shake of yours~” Jane instantly offered, mosying up to the statuesque wall of sweat-lined ebon stud-flesh, hands tracing his diamond-hard pecs and dense, sturdy wall of abdominal muscle and earning countless scowls and groans of ire from her competitors vying to take her on.
“Errr…girls, i-it’s fine, seriously. I could probably go for a couple more sets anyway, so…”
“HEARKLEY! Are you done hiding behind women to protect you, or will you face your superior for once where you cannot employ your dastardly tricks?” Justain shouted, his voice far more shaky and uncertain than he would have liked, almost surely failing to hold to the tenants of article 6 (e) on the demeanor of steadfast courage and total self-assuredness a Knight must possess when approaching a rival to propose a duel, but there was no way the way his legs were shaking like a leaf in the wind and his adam’s apple shifted in his throat with a thick gulp could have been picked up on by Reese.
“Huh? Oh…you’re…uhhhh…Justin? I think you were my alchemy class partner for a bit, but then we got shuffled around. What the hell are you talking about?” Reese replied, a slight frown on his face that mirrored the grimace that the girls crowded around him presented to Justain, a fuming anger sprouting in the young Chamberlain’s heart at the knowledge that not only did he dare to use such underhanded methods to undermine his presence, he now feigned ignorance to even his name?
“It’s Justain, Hearkley. Of the Chamberlain house?”
“Yeah…not very familiar with that, sorry but all these noble houses just kinda fly over my head with the other stuff…”
“Heh, unsurprising. I would expect nothing less from a peon who was only taught the art of language to better…herd sheep…or…whatever it is you people do. Not that it matters anyway, since now you seem to prefer the company of a gaggle of undignified cows instead. Shall I say you’ve chosen to put your education to good use working as a cattle rancher? How quaint! Truly you’re moving up in the world, in a few generations, perhaps your descendants could be bakers delivering shipments to my family, and they would be well-read enough to know the name of the most distinguished Magic Knight household in the kingdom.” Justain spoke in that signature dismissive, catty tone of voice of his, his insult to the girls provoking quite a few of them to squint their eyes and crack their knuckles readying to finally give the academy’s most entitled runt a taste of what he had coming to him, but stopped barely by Reese blocking the path forward with the bottom of his statuesque chest level with the black-haired Mage’s head.
“So…are you just trying to rile me up by being a huge dick? Or is this some…nobleman’s greeting I don’t understand? Cause you’re not really doing a good job of either-”
“Neither. It’s a challenge. To an honorable duel between Knights. Perhaps in your loss you can redeem some fraction of dignity from all the cheating you so clearly did.” Justain interrupted, a cocky smirk upon his face as he crossed his arms and wiggled his eyebrows with a smugness that only one of true Chamberlain blood could muster up.
“Duel? What year are you in? That’s some outdated crap from…ohhhh wait, are you that weird kid whose always talking about that Knight’s code book?”
“Weird? I…you…it’s more than a code book and it’s NOT outdated and I am the normal one here! You…the uncouth little runt trying to fit in where you don’t belong, are the strange one! And before you try and ignore me and run from a challenge by magic combat which you CLEARLY cannot win, I will inform you that, unlike most of Sir Wilhelm’s Intro to Knighthood volume 1, the Akademia has not removed this distinguished tradition from our rules.” Justain announced, and before Reed could even begin to question the efficacy of his claims, he produced a thick book emblazoned in proud gold lettering with the title Griffin-spine Code of Student Conduct, waving his sparkling fingertips and letting it flip open to the dastardly page that confirmed his testament.
“Most recent edition. Every parameter for the initiation of a duel is lined out simple enough for even a barely literate vagrant like you could understand, but to be sure, I shall do you the honors of speaking them aloud for your sake. A duel is formed by two Knights who bear cause for grievance with one another great enough that only trial by combat may resolve it, the two parties may choose for themselves any time to duel not less than two weeks after an agreement is made and not more than three months, Knights must thusly set for themselves a fitting wager upon which they must stake a valuable promise, as well as parameters for the preparation of said duel, both of which can be legally enforced.”
“Great. Does that mean I can order you to never talk to me again and shut the hell up about your chivalry rules or whatever the fuck it is you’re going on about? Why do I even have to agree to this, huh? You’re the one who cares so much about this honor shit, I can ignore you, you can’t ignore how shitty you feel about being upstaged though, seems like one of us doesn’t have the great enough grievance. Your duel is bust.” Reese proclaimed, preparing to roll his eyes in annoyance and leave before Justain, in his resolution to ruin the man’s day as best he could, chirped in yet once more.
“Well, that would be the case, but unfortunately those archaic rules of the guide to knighthood that that rule is expressly based off state that but one party who voices, with sufficient proof, their great grievance, it shall be assumed that this alone is cause for a counter-grievance with the other party. And once that has been established…well…it’s said that a Knight must defend his honor or be unworthy of their standing at all…which would mean permanent expulsion from school grounds and banning from entry to all Magic Knight’s headquarters for life…not that you would last in one for much too long anyhow.” Justain tossed his head high and seemed to outright gush at the look of unbridled rage marring Reese’s ruggedly handsome face, he was finally getting under his skin, finally putting him on the defensive, finally giving his father a show of just how good he could be! Far better than how his brother would have handled this, at least…
“Yeah? Fine then. You want me to agree to this shit? Well I hope you’ll have fun then, I’d bet every last coin my family has ever made that I could smack your stupid rich boy ass around without even…huh, Jane? Girls…” The women soon jumped around Reese energetically, Jane especially pulling him off to the side and having him face away from his would-be opponent, a crowd of whispering voices melding together and making their speech practically indecipherable to him…though he could glean a measure of wariness in Reese’s voice, and an excitable, giggling giddiness that he found utterly insufferable in Jane and the girls before a guttural, throat-clearing cough before the massive man turned with a cheeky grin that Justain could tell meant nothing good…
“Well, have you decided on your terms now that you’ve consulted with your childish little entourage? Whatever cheating plot you have, I will confront it head on and arise victorious anyhow. You can call it the difference of power between a true nobleman and a woodchopper playing at Knighthood.” Justain laughed, trying and failing to hide the shiver that tinted his voice as the back of his mind raced with possibility after possibility of why this broad-shouldered dullard could possibly be this confident…
“Are you sure? You know, you could call it off and back off now…a sheltered little rich boy like you should be comfortable not making good on his promises. But if you really think you can handle anything…”
Such obvious goading barely even merited a reply, it was clear now that whatever desperate plan he had on hand was clearly nowhere near what could fell the strength of a trained Chamberlain mage in the prime of their ability, and Justain might as well not have been listening when he mockingly mouthed his acceptance and spat out his end of their shared bargain, totally unaware of the devilish plan brimming in the mind of the man whose hand he begrudgingly shook, and how those machinations would soon bring him, and the very Chamberlain name to a ruination no noble house had seen before…
—
“UNGHHHH! By the Gods man! You’re literally KILLING ME! T-this has to be a punishable offence…how can anyone do this to themselves willingly!?” Justain’s voice could be heard from the heart of the gym, his high-pitched whines the comic chorus that brought forth dozens of hushed giggles from its usual residents crowded outside, peeking through a tiny window cracked open in the doorframe to view how the young noble’s “training” was progressing.
The duel had quickly become the talk of the entire school, as did most of Justain’s wily antics and endeavors. Here though, there was a distinct seriousness in the tone with which most viewed the oncoming battle, to most, this was a duel to firmly establish the concrete distinction between the class of nobles and commoners, a topic that had become ever the political controversy what with the growth of the population eligible to train as Magic Knight’s growing more and more by every generation and spilling over into the masses that, in the view of much of the elitists within the military, ought not even to dream of occupying the positions and power that they did.
For others, it was a testament to how the Chamberlain house was slowly beginning to fall to the wayside, even if Justain did succeed in his duel, the very fact that he was spurned into such an impassioned act by a mere commonfolk was to showcase the eroding position of his family’s grand station…or at the very least, how woefully he was managing to live up to it.
But on the whole, all agreed that this duel would be talked about for ages to come, and commoner, Akademiya students and even distant family of the royal throne alike had eagerly placed their bets and made reservations for seats upon the venue the brawl was to be had in but a month’s time…and many of Justain’s supporters would be profoundly disappointed to see the state he was in now…
To be fair, he was never of much great aptitude in most physical pursuits, his was a mind that excelled in the magic arts and intellectual battlegrounds, of which he took much pride in…so perhaps he was somewhat asking to be embarrassed by the watching eyes of Reese’s giggling female entourage as he was sweating through this strange, awful, skintight…THING Reese insisted he wore while the tan-skinned barbarian manipulated his body into all manner of impossible positions for what felt like an eternity!
Really, the beginner stretches Reese was taking him through were rather simple…perhaps even undertraining for most regular amateurs, but with how Justain panted his way through pushing his legs apart into more than half of a simple split, whined about his legs feeling like they were going to explode on hamstring stretches, and felt his back pop from a simple cobra maneuver...it was fair to say that he was levels of unathletic that were superhuman.
Not that that was too surprising from looking at him. At his downright diminutive 5’5 height, with his pale, almost transparent skin that spoke to a life spent stowed away inside the walls of dim-litted libraries with as many windows as a high-security bank vault, and a weight that Reese could swear his 15 year old brother had long since surpassed at what had to be a mere 135 pounds soaking wet…it was very clear to everyone involved that they were going nowhere fast at this rate.
Still though…he could tell that Justain actually, surprisingly, took this somewhat seriously. Beyond his overwhelmingly gigantic ego and absurd, elitist rudeness that made him so off putting, it seemed he genuinely had some belief in those tired codes of honor and responsibility he oh-so-often spoke of…not that that belief made it any less hilarious when he claimed that with his determination he would be able to beat out Reese in physical strength too if it came down to it, but still, it almost made it a little cute to see him try and fail so often.
“Alright, that’s it. I think you’re done for your first session Justin.”
“Oughhhh…h-how many times do I have to tell you, it’s JUSTAIN! Argh, my back! D-do you intend to paralyze me before we can have our duel Hearkley? I refuse to believe any human would ever do this! What is the purpose of such self torture…”
“Buddy…you just did a couple of basic stretches for like, an hour…” Reese sucked his teeth with a look of sympathy that sent a flourishing, reddish pink hue glowing on Justain’s cheeks as he hurriedly snatched the towel away from Reese’s thick palm, just as eager to hide his face from his rival’s sight as he was to wipe away the waterfall of sweat trickling over every inch of his body and burning his eyes as it poured past his eyelids.
When he could finally feel them open up again without that vicious sting clouding his vision, he was presented again with Reese glowering down at him, holding what looked to be a shaker bottle in his face filled with some odd, goopy white liquid of some sort…
“Protein shake. Gotta feed the muscles so they can bulk up all nice. Better than eating…what the hell is it you eat? Fairy dust or somethin? You’re like a fucking feather, Justin.”
Justain ignored Reese’s blatant (and at this point, seemingly intentional) mistaking of his name, rolling his eyes as he stood from his collapsed position on wobbly legs and panted between the words of his reply.
“Oh yeah? How the hell is that…strange, slimy potion supposed to help me? Is this what you bumpkins feed your cattle on or somethi..Owwwwww~ by Wilhelm’s beard, my legs! W-what did you do to me! Is this some curse you’ve cast? Aiieeee…m-make it stop dammit! I demand you!” Justain cut himself off as his shaky legs suddenly tensed and folded in on themselves, a quaking, cramping sensation flooding his body as he curled up into a ball and nursed his poor, brittle limbs from the overwhelming pain zapping through his small, sickly little legs…
“Yeah, see, that’s why. When you’ve got muscles as tiny as a twelve year old girl, training seriously tends to wear them out like…a ton, you wanna get rid of that awful achey feeling down there? You probably gotta take some of this.” Reese smirked down at him, taking pleasure in seeing Justain’s self-righteous scowl wiped away by his pained winces before he demanded to be given the bottle.
“What? I dunno man, didn’t you say we feed cattle with these? I wouldn’t wanna upset the great lord Chamberlain with something so unrefined. Though perhaps I could be convinced if you said the magic words…”
“Unghhhhh, FUCK! PLEASE give me that bottle of your gross peasant gunk already! Anything to get rid of this pain!” Justain begged, more unheard giggles sprouting behind the door to the gym as the double meaning behind his pleading words went entirely over his own head. Reese agreed, tossing the bottle to the floor where Justain quickly grabbed it and sat up with a pained groan assessing its contents…
Just looking at it through the transparent plastic that contained the reservoir of liquid did not inspire many good feelings in him. Reese might have been right in his assumption that Justain was outright starving himself, he was prone to forgetting to eat and took his lithe build as a point of pride, after all, the guide to knighthood heavily pressed the need for a Knight to abstain from piggish displays of overindulgence…but that didn’t stop Justain from being quite the enthusiast when it came to sampling the finest drinks and teas the Chai kingdom had to offer. He’d familiarized himself well with the foreign taste of delicious bubble teas and refreshing blends both hot and cold…but this? This bore all the hallmarks of an absolutely disgusting, frothy mess the likes of which he wouldn’t feed his mother’s dog (though Mariselle really was quite picky…).
And when he popped open its cap and positioned the opening from which the sloshing mixture within just below his nostrils…GOD IT FUCKING REEKED! A scent that Reese could only compare to the sulphurous yolk of a rotten dragon’s egg poured into his nostrils and assaulted his brain through every corner of his skull and making him gag with his head held back in disgust.
“Are you serious?!? T-this can’t be fit for human consumption…you have to have put some sort of cursed potion in this! What is it with you and that stuff? Is that the only magic you know? Forget it, I’m not drinking this! You’re an expert in this stupid workout crap so you can help me out some other way, can’t you?” Reese vehemently refused Reese’s proposal, shuddering at the thought of actually consuming this gunky potion of greasy ivory sludge that so heavily appalled him.
“Well then, sorry to say, but you’re out of luck. Only other thing you can do is ride that pain out for the next…three hours, maybe? Could be more given how weak your legs are, honestly. And no pressure, but not recovering one day is gonna make it a real bitch having to train again tomorrow, you’re supposed to do this every day before we fight, you know? Keep going like this and you’ll barely be able to cast spells from a wheelchair on the big day. But hey, if you wanna whine about doing something that every girl I’ve ever trained could easily handle and cry about drinking a little protein shake out of a teeny sippy-cup, that’s cool. Thought your Knight’s code was all about stoicism and Knight’s handling any adversity without complaint though, maybe they oughta revise that bit.” Reese bit back, striking at Justain’s heart with a brutal ruthlessness that felt almost as bad as the returning shudders through his leg.
That country bumpkin could take shots at him all he wanted…but to the code of chivalrous virtues upon which he based his entire worldview…that would simply not be allowed to stand!
“S-shut up, peasant! I…if a vagrant like you can handle this, then surely I can. Just have to…hold my nose and make this quick…” A long moment of pause followed with Reese smirking towards him as Justain looked between him and the goopy witch’s brew within the bottle, gagging again at the miasmic scent filling his nostrils. It was a toss up between his pride and his comfort at this point, and between the two, the young mage could only make one obvious choice…
With his fingers pinching his nostrils to stop that pungent scent from keeping him holding it down and rocked his head back to allow a gushing wave of viscous, porridge-thick fluid to pour through the rim of the cup like a tidal wave rushing into his empty mouth. And FUCK, did it taste awful…a ripe, sticky, salty taste that had to bear the strongest flavor of anything he’d ever had, and to make it that much worse, it was so damn THICK he practically had to chew through a dense, wobbly goo-worm writhing about within that accursed brew that threatened to clog his windpipe if he didn’t keep his lips sealed tight on its straw with his cheeks bulging out and his tongue taking care to cut up those soupy strands as he fought against his instinctive gag reflex.
Reese and the girls were quite amused by seeing how similar his method of getting around this problem was to drinking from a different, much more phallic source of refreshment. Not that Justain could even care to think about how much he looked like he was swallowing a giant throat-clogging cumshot as he came closer and closer to choking out on what felt like a liter of juicy “protein” sliding over his tongue…but for as much as he loathed the taste he experienced, he had to admit that it was working.
The buzzing pain shooting through his legs eased up bit by bit as he downed more of Reese’s bubbly brew, the echoing sound of “GLPGLPGLUPPPPPP~” spreading out from the pit of Justain’s throat as his chugging went from reluctant to downright frenziedly hungry for it. His legs didn’t just feel healed, his entire body pulsed with pleasure from head to toe, God, and he hated how right Reese was almost as much as he hated the taste brushing over his tongue.
Before he even knew it, his potent protein potion had been practically entirely drained from the bottle, and yet still he went on, sloppy noises of his tongue diving into the straw of the bottle and eagerly lapping up the last dregs sticking to the plastic innards of the shake cup. He did not enjoy drinking it in the slightest, but the sensation…the feeling of lightness and pulsing electricity zapping through his flesh and invigorating his tired body like nothing else he’d felt before…and he probably would have kept up with it if not for Reese interjecting with a loud cough into his fist.
No words needed to be said to convey the expression of smugness and proud self-gratification in Reese’s eyes…those deep brown orbs of utter contempt that made him feel so strangely small as his last gulp of the greasy peasant potion settled into his stomach.
“S-shut up, you mongrel…”
“What? I didn’t say anything, Justain.” Reese smiled. His brick-hard jawline put on display all the more as the ends of his lips spread out in a wide, oafish little smile.
“Forget it. You have your laughs like the little fool you are getting me to participate in this humiliation ritual of yours, but we’ll see who experiences the ultimate humiliation soon enough! Your barbaric tricks bear no power against my magic, you’ll know that soon…but erm…first I have to…be going to my room by now.” He trailed off, a strange shivering sensation spreading through his core where Reese’s squishy glop had sank into his gut. His pale cheeks went crimson red, his arms were shaking with raw fury, his legs trembled as he got to his feet and wobbled over to the door despite his fatigue being completely gone…things were ALWAYS like this around Reese! Why, just why did that statuesque piece of shit make him feel so strange all the time?
“Hey, whatever floats your boat sir Chamberlain. Just make sure you’re ready for tomorrow, can’t have your Knightly honor be besmirched by not meeting the agreement. I’ve got more shakes with your name on ‘em just waiting for ya.” His chuckling served as the backdrop to Justain’s inner monologue of curses and decrees to make that rebellious vagrant rue the day he dared to even think he was worthy of the title of a Magic Knight, and fantasy after fantasy of how he would make the man lick his boots and cower before him in admission of his defeat played out in his mind all the way through his trudge to his dorm and the hours that followed.
That night, after yet another long day spent practicing his spells, Justain remained awake, eyes spread open and staring into the ornate chandelier hanging from his ceiling. He could still feel a bubbling sensation spreading in the pit of his gut, a strange tingle that ever so often arrived and made his spine arch up in shock…but not an unwanted one. It stopped him from sleeping, but he couldn’t be sure if he would rather get the peace of a good night’s rest or keep the rhythmic pulse of strange, blissful sensations coursing through his body as the hours whittled onward.
Every new beam of stirring pleasure brought him back to earlier, with Reese. Having him watch as he devoured that foul brew he had for him, the way it made him feel, the way the auburn-haired peasant’s brown eyes looked down on him, judging him, toying with him. It was unbearable for his ego, but now, in the darkness, with his tired mind slowly wilting away the pride and prejudice that shrouded his innermost thoughts from even himself, he could find some measure of relief in how Reese treated him. Everyone seemed to view him through the lens of his family and the reputation they held, but him…whether it was merely his simpleton nature or just that he had somehow been raised with no concept of respect for his noble authorities…but it was good to know that as much as Reese may have hated him, his feelings, his interactions…all of it was a genuine reply to him.
He gasped a bit as another pulse racked through his body, pulling his covers up to his warm cheeks. It was late in the night, and he had a charmcasting class early tomorrow, Reese told him that sleep was vital to getting proper results from their training…not that he cared for it of course, but it would be all the more of an amazing victory to show that bastard he was nothing special and beat him at his own silly game. That was all he wanted to achieve with this, and that was exactly why he would dedicate every waking moment to ensuring he had been bested long before they stepped into the battlegrounds for their duel.
And with that in mind, he ignored the sensations still throbbing within him, settling his eyelids to squeeze themselves shut, blissfully unaware of the true nature of the concoction bubbling away in the deepest reaches of his body, infused within his blood and ever so slowly changing him piece by piece…
—
True to his promise to himself, Justain diligently held to the stipulations of the duel, indeed, many of his peers would say that he seemed to be rather too involved. His teachers noted how often he was scurrying off for “training sessions” with that Hearkley boy between his classes…supposedly to “save himself time”, even though he ended up doing much more than his stipulated hour of gym time in total. To spend time reluctantly with a mere peasant as one’s instructor for the sake of obligation would be noble, but now, it seemed like the young Chamberlain was treading the dangerous line of enjoying what should have been a punishment, and that put him at risk of his standing amongst his social sphere being vastly diminished if he performed with nothing less than total domination over his opponent.
His behavior was far from the only concerning matter though. Of course, for a twiggy, boyish little man really had nowhere to go but up in terms of how Reese’s training could help him fill out his underdeveloped frame, and no one could deny that after a mere two weeks under his guidance, Justain looked far more…appealing to the eyes than his former lithe, almost ghostly figure. Though the manner in which he “filled out” was rather…unexpected to most…
“Haaah…see Reese! It’s only been two weeks and I’m already crushing your routine! Phew, that was great though…better watch your back Hearkley, might just end up pummelling you with my fists instead when the big day comes around.” Justain groaned excitedly as he swung himself out from underneath the squat rack, an energetic pep in his step that outdid any instance of his formerly lackluster physical presence which often saw him scrunched over and heavily slouched.
Of course, Reese rolled his eyes at the very notion that Justain could do so much as win a thumb war against him, but the results of his efforts were clearly undeniable. Justain’s posture was strong and upright, his energy levels had shot up to where he was actually able to entertain hobbies other than hours worth of magic studies and writing novella-length soliloquies of his unappreciated greatness and the imagined vengeance he would rue on all who dared to offend him.
But his endurance was far from the most apparent thing in how much Justain had changed over the past few weeks…and the proof of that was abundantly clear with the outwardly jutting rear-spheres stuffed tightly within his black and white tracksuit.
Sure, with a measly two plate squat and arms smaller than his elderly grandmother’s once were, Justain was nowhere near adequate enough to come close to even pushing him off balance with his strength…or at least, not with his limbs, because by now Justain had developed an absolutely MOUNTAINOUS, MOUTHWATERING SHELF OF RIPE, SNOW-WHITE JIGGLE-MEAT THAT VERY WELL THREATENED TO SPLIT THROUGH THE BOTTOM HALF OF HIS JUMPSUIT WITH EVERY SQUAT HE PERFORMED UNDER REESE’S GUIDANCE!
His growth could easily be classed in a much higher realm than how his athletic performance had improved, and it quite honestly was baffling to Reese just how unaware he seemed of how girly he had become. Justain was never a man carved from the covers of one of his mother’s enormous book collections with their long, wavy manes of hair and statuesque heights and marble carved musculature that could test the powers of even the most skilled artists to fully render in its glory…if anything, most would call him somewhat effeminate, mousy, small and bearing a face much fairer and smoother than even the latest of bloomers should have had at his age.
Or at least, they would have for the old Justain. Now, he looked like a downright carbon copy of the very same girls that looked at him with scorn and envy with how much of Reese’s time he was monopolizing for himself. His hair lengthened ever so slightly to droop just a few inches below his back in finely combed black jets and bangs over his forehead that slightly concealed the upper portion of his eyes, eyes that were rounded out by cheekbones that grew and puffed outwards to further accentuate his hollower cheeks and make the plump, doughy soft ring of springy flesh that formed his lips look even more remarkably juicy compared to the rest of his finely carved face.
His neck was dainty and swanlike, though that was probably one thing that didn’t change much compared to before, with shoulders that had actually grown…along with a chest that had filled out quite well with the help of Reese’s program…though quite unlike the sturdy bulk of armor plate-like muscle forming his instructor’s beefy chest, the “muscle” Justain had to show for his efforts there was soft, springy and easily malleable, his nipples enlarged far beyond their former size and capping a pair of bouncy orbs that seemed like tender b-cup tits more than anything else.
Tits that were being slowly revealed as Justain caught his breath, chest heaving and fingers prying down the zipper at the middle of his tracksuit while Reese caught himself staring just a slight bit longer than he might have initially wanted to. What was meant to be a playful experiment had evolved into something far beyond the realm of what he had expected…but as his brown eyes lingered on the smackable swell of Justain’s ultra-soft plap-bait cheeks, he wondered if he might have taken a step too far in his attempt to bring the big-headed nobleman down a peg. If Justain weren’t as clueless to how much his body was becoming an image of fuckable softness layered atop firm yet still feminine muscle that would put even the most sensationally stacked gym bunny babes to utter shame, he could very well be treated to capital punishment by the highest echelon of nobility…a punishment of dozens of years in prison, or even death very well might have laid ahead of Reese, whether he won the duel or not…
But as he watched the cheeky smirk on Justain’s face, his short hair whipping about as he looked back into Reese’s eyes, that simple sight forming an enormous, beefy bulge of raw, cuntwrecking dickmeat pumping to its absurd, monstrously weighty half-hard thickness was all he needed to reassure him in his path. He didn’t care if it led him to hell itself, he was going to see that proud smirk into a cock-crazed expression of mad, bestial bliss no matter what it cost.
“Whooo…okay, well now, that was a good workout, but I’m beat. Uhhh…y-you got any of your signature shakes for me? Not that I need them or anything, but you know…gotta feed the muscles and all that…” Justain tried to ask, clearly wary of sounding too eager, because of course, he wasn’t enjoying that foul brew of coagulated gunk pouring over his throat and finding its way to his stomach.
He definitely wasn’t spending every day hooked on the damn things, thinking about when he would get his next fix like an addict suffering through withdrawals from their drug of choice, gulping down every greasy wad of mushy protein with his puffy lips wrapped around that straw he’d become oh so familiar with and working his mouth around it like he was eagerly fellating the swollen crown of a mega-thick breeder shaft and milking it into his mouth for all he was worth. No…no, none of those extremely specific descriptors applied to him in the slightest, he wasn’t utterly obsessed with the sensation of supreme euphoria that flooded his body every time he downed Reese’s thick, gummy brew like a bar-hopping alcoholic intent to drain every barrel of mead the taverns had stocked up in their basement.
Yep, he was totally alright with the idea of going without that potent potion stuffing his throat in the aftermath of an exerting workout that left him hot, sweaty and buzzing with a strange, refreshing feeling of tiredness that he was almost as addicted to as he wasn’t addicted to those protein shakes.
And that was why he would remain totally unphased by whether or not Reese handed him that delectable shake bottle that cropped up in his dreams, or if he…
“A shake? Come on now Justain, you’ve made enough progress to not need some shit like that anymore. You are a man right? Not a little boy hitting the weights for the first time?”
Reese’s words didn’t register for a moment as Justain found himself still reaching out for the pint of stodgy white ambrosia he had grown used to being handed at the end of these sessions.
“Uh…wait, what? I mean, that’s…I don’t understand, that’s the routine we’ve always had. I don’t get why…”
“Ay, Chamberlain, you do get that training has to change as you get better at it, right? I’m complimenting you. Doesn’t that Knight’s code book of yours have a part about how a Knight must never step back in their progress? You said you wanna try competing with me, well that’s where we’re at buddy, congrats, I’ve acknowledged you as a real opponent…or is that not what you want? You want me to keep babying you like a beginner? Cause that sounds just a bit unbecoming of a Knight, isn’t it?” Reese mockingly spoke, his eyebrow raised with a hand on his chin, his gaze making Justain feel like he was miniaturized with each passing second he was looked at like that, that insufferably annoying feeling of smallness before the sandy-haired stud that made his heart tremble in his ribcage and his pale face flush hot pink.
“W-well…I mean…I guess you’re kind of right…” Justain whispered trying and epically failing to hide the way his bottom lip wobbled and his glassy green eyes went moist with teary loss like a child on the verge of throwing a temper tantrum, only to be snapped out of his self pity by Reese’s voice assertively taking hold of the room once again.
“You ain’t gonna get up Justin? What, ass too fat to follow me? Come on, I’m about to show you how real athletes rest up after a big day, we’re gonna hit the sauna and sweat out all that exhaustion, give you a little taste of what life is like for a real spartan!”
Somehow, despite himself, Justain found himself mindlessly complying like he was an obedient dog jumping up at the sound of his owner’s voice, perhaps all the time he spent exerting his body to the limit while having that deep, commanding tone of Reese’s barking away in his ear, his own hulking musculature bearing down on him and guiding him through the most painful reps that threatened to make his heart burst out of his chest in anticipation of the creamy chunks of slippery peasant slop he desired had implanted some pavlovian tendency to follow his every demand like a baser, animal instinct. That probably wouldn’t come back to bite him at some point would it?
“You ever talk to me like that again Hearkley and I’ll add a clause for you to snip off your own tongue and never speak again once I beat you…but I will say, a sauna does sound quite nice, probably the only refined thing you’ve said since we’ve met. I shall be going first of course, only natural that you finally show some deference by stepping aside and-EEK!” Justain’s already prissy, song like voice heightened to a glass shattering pitched mewl of shock, though even that was not nearly loud enough to cover up the ECHOING SONIC BOOM OF REESE’S THICK, HAIRY HAND BARELLING FORTH INTO A MIGHTY IMPACT THAT SENT THE PERKY PALE MOONS OF THE NOBLE’S HEAD-ENGULFING WOBBLE SHELF CASCADING ABOUT LIKE TUMBLEWEEDS IN A TORNADO!
“W-what the…!”
“You told me to make way for you, didn’t you Justin? I don’t know about you nobles, but where I come from, we like to give our esteemed athletes a nice little love tap or two, it’s a way of showing rivalry camraderie…or are you saying you really aren’t worth a peasant boy’s respect? I wouldn’t know whether to be flattered or sad for you if that’s what it was…” Reese chuckled, relishing the pristine view he got of every last ounce of phat, creamy jiggle meat he had yielding to the palm of his hand as he didn’t even try to cease in openly groping his “rival’s” bottom heavy figure with the growing tent in his pants radiating near visible clouds of steamy cock musk to further dampen any thoughts of resistance Justain might have had as the pre-spouting crown of that overendowed cocklog bobbed and bounced oh so close to the crevice where his titanic twerk-spheres met.
“I…I guess in that case it can be excused. Hmph! Y-you’re lucky I’m as stoic as I am, or I might have taken offence anyway, and it’s Justain, get it right for once you uneduca-…uhnnnn, l-let’s just go already, and maybe stop squeezing it so tight…please?” Justain tried to shoot back, watery eyes looking behind him at the sturdy wall of tanned farmboy muscle leading him along with a firm hand on his ass, the deafening silence followed by no reply but a wide, wicked grin that made his heart thump heavily as his meaty thighs quaked with every step he took…
—
The sizzling noise of water hitting the piping hot dragon scale coals set up at the ends of the sauna hit Justain’s ears as his nostrils widened and breathed from the cloud of steam wafting around him. He could feel sweat rolling down his body, keeping his temperature from reaching heights that may very well have made a sheltered noble like him think he was in the process of being melted alive. He might not have acted like it, given how unbecoming it was for a noble to show inexperience for the finer things of life in the presence of a commoner, but this was his first time in a sauna…and it was certainly…well…something.
The heat was far beyond anything he expected, downright stifling, as though he was a lobster being furiously pressure cooked by his butler as his mother’s friends waited to ravenously devour their bounty over chats about how much of an unbecoming slag Lady Heffenboffer had become these days. That said…he didn’t despise the feeling, Reese was right about the relaxing properties of this place, simply being cloaked within the billowing steam filled him with a sensation of comfort that may very well have seen his heart slow to a complete pause.
Or it would have if not for the figure beside him who, as much as he tried not to, he couldn’t help but feel his heart race, body twitch and mind unconsciously trace across every inch of the firm, beefy hunk-meat filling out every inch of the farm-boy’s tanned, tight skin, and to make it worse, beneath the alluring sight of Reese’s toned torso rippling with every breath he took in, the wisps of auburn hair trailing between every pair of tightly packed ab muscles in an unspeakably sexy happy trail…what the fuck was he looking at right now?
Both of their towels were oddly…small, something Reese assured Justain was merely to ensure that all of their pores could be fully penetrated by the soothing steam rising from the sauna. He would have contested that, but given how embarrassing it would be to be proven wrong, Justain, for a rare moment, actually shut up and accepted what Reese told him without question…something that was becoming a growing pattern for him.
He watched Reese’s bulging thighs chafing together, barely keeping his eyes from wandering to the very obviously apparent tube of unreal cockflesh smacking between his legs underneath his tiny towel, so fat and broad that it might as well have been folded over on top of the impression of his gravid balls that hung so low Justain could see the lower edges of them even as he tried to ogle Reese without doubting his sexuality even more.
“Uh…so…Reese. I’ve been thinking…you are absolutely a cheating wretch of a peasant, yes. But uhhh…you might not exactly be all bad, you know? Sure, it’ll probably take some training to get all that rebellious instinct out of you, but you could maybe…ᵇ⁻ᵇᵉ ᵐʸ ˢᵠᵘᶦʳᵉ ᵒʳ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰᶦⁿᵍˀ ᴵ⁻ᶦᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵐᶦⁿᵈ ᶦᵗ, ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᴵ ᴺᴱᴱᴰ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ᵃᶜᶜᵉᵖᵗ ˢᶦⁿᶜᵉ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵏᶦᶜᵏ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵃˢˢ ᵃⁿʸʷᵃʸ…”
“Justain?”
“W-what is it?” Oh God, he got his name right! Was he gonna say yes? Were they going to be united as squire and knight and spend every waking moment of every day togethe-
“Could you get that bucket over there? Looks like I worked my legs out a bit, maybe I really can’t keep up with you.” Reese told him, gesturing to the bucket of water a few scant inches away from his foot on the right. Justain should have been curling up an eyebrow and suspecting some manner of a trick given the fact that Reese’s long limbs could probably reach out and grab that thing if it was twice as far…but he was riding high on the drug of that golden nugget of acknowledgment the auburn-haired hunk tossed his way. He needed him. Heh, how typical of a mere peasant, now Reese would be firmly in his debt, and have no choice but to accept his demand once he had been thoroughly humbled soon.
He didn’t even bother to form a speech to rub in how much he was enjoying seeing Reese apparently cut down to size before him, knowing that no matter how much the steam billowed around them, that enormous human stallion beside him would be able to see his smug face through a goddamn house fire.
Not that Reese cared to occupy himself with that sight when his eyes were far too closely magnetized to Justain’s juicy thighs, his towel barely reaching to the midpoint of his fuckable slabs of marble white thighmeat and letting more than half of his hulking whore cheeks hang out from the bottom of his towel, a beating rhythm of thwap thwap thwaps softly spilling out each time his enormous fuck-flanks jiggled and thumped together with his steps, his chest pushed out proudly and bending over slowly right before he was tripped up by something that felt oddly similar to Reese’s hairy calves…
His sweaty feet and the near blind state created by the cloudy aura filling the room made his eventual fall even worse, slipping clumsily over the floor and desperately grasping for purchase wherever he could find it, his hand eventually grasping at Reese’s leg before his balance sent him toppling over and yanking his towel to the floor before he barely managed to steady himself on his hands and knees.
“Owww…Goddamn it, you peasant bastard! That freakin’ hurt you know! Forget being a squire, I swear I’ll have your fucking…c…c-cock…” Justain winced, sitting on his haunches and burning bright hot with equal parts anger and embarrassment…all of which were melted away completely when he was faced by the sight of a fat, sweat-slick cum-cannon of a cock hanging over his face and dropping pearly beads of sweat upon his girly features.
Justain’s meaty mitts clutched against the cervix-pounding tube of vein-engorged pumpmeat rising from his groin and overshadowing the raven-haired boi-slut’s cock-shocked face nearly entirely.
“T-that’s…I…that isn’t your…”
“My dick, yeah. What? Surprised? Guess you never expected a fat peasant prick to make you look like a baby carrot down there, huh?”
Baby carrot? Now THAT was far out of line, sure, his dick had seemed oddly softer and pinker and every bit as morphed into an unnatural feminized state as the rest of him…but he couldn’t have HIM not only showing off just how much bigger he was, but outright mocking him for it…ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒᵗ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᶦᵗ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᴶᵘˢᵗᵃᶦⁿ'ˢ ᵃᶜʰᶦⁿᵍ ˡᶦᵗᵗˡᵉ ˢᶦˢˢʸ⁻ᶜˡᶦᵗ ᵇᵒᵘⁿᶜᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʳᵉᵐᵇˡᵉ ʷᶦᵗʰ ᶦᵗˢ ˢᵗᶦᶜᵏʸ, ˢᵃᶜᶜʰᵃʳᶦⁿᵉ ˢᶦˢˢʸ⁻ʲᵘᶦᶜᵉ ˡᵉᵃᵏᶦⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ ᶦⁿ ᵃ ʷᵃʸ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ʰᶦᵐ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˢᵒ ᵈᵘᵐᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵐᵃˡˡ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉˡᵖˡᵉˢˢ ᶦⁿ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ʷᵃʸˢ…
“That is IT Hearkley, you want to mess with me and my family so bad, fine? I swear I’ll make you regret ever coming to this school, this…this disgusting, sweaty…m-manly hog cock of yours is gonna be gone come tomorrow morning when-GLRSCHHHHHHH~!!?!?♥️♥️♥️?!”
“Tomorrow morning? You’re way off base Justain. Not that that’s surprising, you really are so clueless when it comes to anything that’s not in your pretty little Knight’s handbook huh? Good thing I’ve got your big mouth wrapped tight on this cock then. Better to put it to good use for once doing something other than mouthing off while I give you a real lesson…” He grunted, his voice a hot puff of desire that unwittingly prompted Justain’s limp sissy-pecker propping up and splattering onto the hot wooden floorboards, the sound of slickened throatflesh tightened around the sheer weight of an absurdly massive invading force rumbling through the kneeling sissy’s mind almost as though he was only a witness to the beginning of his brutal oral violation, and not the very subject upon which Reese was preparing to angrily MALLET-FUCK INTO COMPLETE SUBMISSION WITH HIS GIANT HANDS GRABBING AT JUSTAIN’S PUNY HEAD ON EITHER SIDE AND PREPARING TO USE IT LIKE A FUCKING HUMAN FLESHLIGHT!
“GWOOOOUUUURRKKKKKK~ SCHLSCHLSCHLLLLKKKK~ SCHRPPPPSSCCHHHH~ KRLCHHHHHHSCCHHHHH~💔💔❤️!!💔!!!”
FUCK! He’d never been treated like this before, been so objectified, made to feel so used, so depraved, defiled like a born and bred cock sock for some nasty giga-hung PEASANT PRICK PUMPING HIS THROAT SO HARD HE FELT LIKE HIS JAW WAS ABOUT TO CRACK OFF ITS HINGES AT MERELY HALF OF ITS LENGTH! How big did that thing have to be? A foot? 20 fucking inches? God, it felt like a broadsword forged with the scales of a fully grown manticore! A heaving, pulsing, living mass that embodied the very voracious sexual appetite that he should have expected from a beastly commoner like Hearkley.
So undignified, so far removed from the quaint world of fake smiles and tea parties and his father looking down on him with that soul splintering gaze of his. Almost like with every pump of a new batch of throat-stuffing cock-inches deep inside of Justain’s maw (which for some reason, had never thought to bite or even choke around Reese’s cock, instinctively opening up as much as possible to welcome him in…strange…), it was breaking that world, or the image of it in his mind to bits around the macelike weight of his mighty member.
“GLURGHHHHHKKKKKKKKK!?!”
The very thought of that seemed to set off an enormous chain reaction of unspeakably lewd outcomes, Justain’s trembling pink sissy-stump shivering and throbbing in the air before letting loose with its own watery issue, a strawberry like scent flooding the sauna and mingling with Reese’s eye-watering musk to make the nobleman’s eyes roll back with tears of confusion spilling down his cheeks, throat relaxing just enough to make way for the six inches of particularly thick country dick that had yet to be stuffed between Justain’s juicy lips. This sensation, the tumultuous tremoring of pleasure working through him as his brain and body were downright consumed by the sense of needy cocklust that arced through him with every jet of slippery boi-”jizz” shooting out from his clit and leaving him in a puddle of his own fluids…
This was the sensation of defeat. An absolute, crippling defeat brought about by the awe-inspiring weapon of total destruction and sexual supremacy that was Reese’s massive manhood. The very thing he had spent his entire young life desperately scrambling to avoid, the most essential article of the Knight’s code, to resist in the face of overbearing power and overcome all odds, he’d already failed to live up to, what could he do other than kneel like this and just fucking take it?
Those were the thoughts running through his mind for a short moment, before the burning afterglow strumming through his body finally began to wear down bit by bit, his eyes refocused, his dazed look turning to one of pinpoint focus looking up into Reese’s relaxed face with utter defiance before employing his counter-attack.
“SCHLRRRRPPPPPPPPPPLRLRLRRLRLRSCHPPPPPRRRRRLKKKKKKK!!!💖💖!!”
Reese gasped as his feet instinctively SLAMMED into the floorboards, almost accidentally breaking through the very ground they were on and risking a major publication on the school’s newspaper of the prestigious heir to the Chamberlain household caught in a sordid affair with his greatest rival, hungrily devouring his divine dickmeat before falling right into the crowded halls between third and fourth period. An untold number of starstruck, overly imaginative (and quite honestly, heavily dick-deprived) students of the academy would feel their hearts jitter with a dull pang of some deep loss for something they would never know.
Justain was, in his own strange, cock-worshipping way, was actually fighting back. His face was every bit as flushed, messy and wet with a mixture of his own tears, throat-slime and coagulated pre-grease spilling out between Reese’s cock and his own dick-sucking-lips. In his head, beneath the bestial side of him that spurred him on by the pure desire for more more more! More cocksludge! More juicy jizz-chunks spilled down his throat, more nasty, sticky, tasty dicksweat imprinting over his tongue and mouth and nostrils and everywhere he could fucking get it! He recited to himself the first article and section of the Knight’s handbook.
Beyond all things, a man is a Knight only when they stride bravely through all adversity that comes their way to prevail as the victor!
He would win, he would win! He was a fool to give up so soon! This mouth-humping session of angry, untamed throatfucking was but a prelude to their final battle! He would make this beefy, bullish runt of a farmboy cow before the terrifying, cock-milking strength of his A-tier mouthcunt without a hitch! He was gonna win!
As he quickly found his rhythm, Justain began to barrel forth with a series of hot, hungry head bobbed over Reese’s meaty monster cock like his body had been set to three times its former speed! His hands grasped for Reese’s low hanging balls, partially to stop its thunderous PHWAPS bruising his goddamn throat, but mostly to eagerly fondle at them in an effort to coax out the hefty wad of sloshing seed PACKED with hyper-charged stud-swimmers brimming deep within his enormous balls.
For a moment, Reese was finally getting put on his backfoot, his eyes looked down at Justain’s and looked filled with surprise at how quickly he adapted to the hole-wrecking barrage of nasty breeding ruts pumping into his hot maw. He was so close to winning, just a few more minutes spent bashing his silken fuck-tunnel throat…or at least, he would have had only a few minutes left if Reese didn’t squeeze the sides of his head, fighting against the rebelling suction of Justain’s suckling slut-maw until eventually his superhuman strength won out with his glistening cock-crown slipping free from the sissy suckslut’s oral cavity with a messy splatter of pre-cum that Justain voraciously devoured and dragged his lips down to lap up what stained the base of his dick, panting deeply while he watched him suckle and slurp away like a cum-hungry whore.
“Damn…you really are begging for that jizz aren’t you Justain? What’s the rush eh?”
“Mnfffhhggggggrlrlrlrl~ G-gonna winnnnnnnnn~” The ebon-haired noble managed to huff out between wet, spittle-infused ball gargles, drawing a chuckle from Reese’s lips as a new, devilish idea hit his head.
“Heh, well then. You want another shot of that protein shake you love so much? I’m about to give it to ya straight from the source, consider it a little consolation prize for all that effort.” He told him, confusing the cock-suckling slut until Reese’s shadow draped over him as he moved to set up for the finishing act….
“GODDDDDDDDDSSSSSSS!!! SO! MUCH! FUCKING DICK STUFFING MY THROAT!💖💖💗💕💞!!!!” Justain’s brain was being practically bounced off the back end of the inner corner of his skull from the sheer pistoning power with which Reese’s dick was driving in and out of his mouth.
Their new position, the splendid supine facefuck that saw Justain stretched out on the benches of the Sauna while the bigger, beefier, stronger man of the two mounted his face with stretched out thighs and pumped his throat-slickened cock-slab away like he was TRYING TO FUCKING IMPREGNATE THE NOBLE WHORE’S STOMACH WITH HIS IMPENDING WAVE OF FROTHY BULL-SEED!
“GWOPGWOPGLRKKKKKKSCHRRPPPPPPPP~!!”
He’d thought he was clawing back control, but now? Justain was well and truly bested beyond all belief like this! All his lewd ministrations and attempts to pleasure Reese into halting his all powerful oral assault amounted to little more than desperately grabbing onto the farm boy’s firm, musclebound cheeks while his sloppy throat held itself lolling open as his head hung and wobbled on the edge of the bench. The heat of the Sauna’s mist was NOTHING compared to the all consuming STENCH AND AROMATIC FLAVOR OF HEFTY HORSE HUNG STUD DICK CARVING OUT HIS PIPES WHILE THE SMELL AND TASTE OF REESE’S BEEFY BALLS PLAPPING OFF HIS FACE RUMBLED THROUGH THE ROOM AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN!
Justain couldn’t even gather the sense of identity to correct Reese when he told “Justin” what a good little plow-sow he was, his head was too flooded with musk and need for the hot, heady slop of nutty backed-up cumshots he had grown so addicted to. All he wanted, all he could think of was the impending moment where he would have his gut stuffed and his tongue saturated with the taste of Reese’s hot, sticky “protein”.
Had it been an hour? Two hours? Five? God, was it night time? Before his consciousness devolved into primal jizz-slobbering beastliness, he swore he could hear the steps of alumni through the halls beneath the sauna petering out…unbeknownst to him, the night stars had already dawned, and the few insomniacs who remained endlessly awake with the pressure of keeping up with academy standards would share tales of the Ghost of Griffinspine, and the odd, eerie choking, slapping, fleshy sounds it made when it wailed for acknowledgment from the living in the dead of night.
Little did any of them know that what the source of that noise truly begged for was far removed from mere acknowledgment, though it wasn’t entirely removed from that sentiment. It was the acknowledgment of white hot desire flooding his oral orifice, the knowledge that the towering farmboy bull that he couldn’t deny he looked at with naked lust shared that same sordid want for him, and would prove it with the chunky shots of frothy cum that he yearned for, begged for, and served for with no less loyalty than the oldest butler employed in his manor.
And luckily for him, his loyalty would soon pay off…
Justain couldn’t hear Reese’s voice by the time his final throatfucking slams crashed home, the rippling wall of abdominal muscle pressed flush into his bottom lip and chin while his throat stretched out more than half its width, a visible protrusion of the sheer girth of Reese’s bulging bull beef showing through Justain’s stomach as his face was masked with nothing but raunchy peasant nuts.
He could feel each pulse of oatmeal thick jizz preparing to blort out from that heavy cockhead and spill through the engorged cum-slit that he felt he could trace with his lips endlessly, beginning from his nuts as they rumbled and SQUELCHED with the weight of his pasty jizz traveling up through the bulging cum-tube that marked the underside of his manhood and churned out with load after load at a volume that saw Justain’s stomach bloat with the glut of hot nut sliding over his throat. When, inevitably, he couldn’t keep up with that torrential flow, a slowly overflowing waterfall of Reese’s load backwashed from Justain’s mouth-cunt and fell over his twitching balls and onto the Sauna floor, ruining the fine oak floorboards even more than they already were.
This went on for what felt like an eternity for Justain, and yet far too short all at once, barely recalling anything but gulping and gulping without even the time to savor every morsel of the virile cum he so deeply loved. The next thing he knew, his gut was gravid and fuller than it had ever been, a whole five pounds at least gained in the weight of jizz pumped through his throat alone, and with the muck of jizz covering his face, he could barely even see more than a few blobs of abstract figures in front of him as Reese splattered the last remnants of his cum over the boy’s used jizz-rag of a face, and by the time a slender, feminine looking figure began to join the giant blob that he knew had stained his face with the pure essence of maleness, his head was already spinning as his mind prepared him for a long overdue sleep.
“Did you enjoy yourself, Reese?”
“Mmm…good…this was much…different than we expected, we don’t know how he’ll react to something this…intense.”
“Shhhh…please, pay it no mind dear. I promise you, whatever it is, Mr…Miss Chamberlain is going to love it, and more importantly…you will.”
“...We have to take him somewhere, make sure he doesn’t catch on…”
“I’ll handle that. But first…I’ll have to clean you off…”
Justain couldn’t gather the sense nor the will to realize how grave his situation was, and with his brain going dull and eyes swirling in his head, his eyelids soon clamped shut, and he escaped into unconsciousness with the dim hope this was but a strange, erotic nightmare…