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Alexis checked the hall of the knights’ barracks and, seeing no one, slipped soundlessly down the corridor to her room. Only once the door was safely closed did she allow herself to sink face-first into the bed. Then she remembered again what had happened the last time she’d been in a bed and rolled off it to wallow on the floor instead.
What had she done? How could she have possibly dared to touch the princess like that? Yes, Princess Iselde had asked her to, had stated she could only trust Alexis to do so, and then Alexis had gotten carried away and touched her like that. It had simply been too exquisite to resist, a feast of the most beautiful woman Alexis had ever seen laid before her. Alexis was only human; surely it was understandable why she had slipped, why she had allowed herself to touch the princess as she pleased?
But you are also a knight. You are Princess Iselde’s knight, and you are sworn to her service, Alexis’s inner voice said.
She groaned, lifting her head and letting it fall back onto the ground with a solid thunk!
A second groan and thud sounded through the room.
Alexis lifted her head and looked around. Her room was surely not so bare that it had an echo? That had to mean she was hearing sounds from one of the other rooms in the building.
It was miracle enough that she had her own private room now, virtue of attaining knighthood. Previously, all knights had been landed gentry and so it was assumed they would arrange their own lodgings complete with servants. After the last king had been brutally murdered some years ago by an assassin while his knight, an inbred fool who had purchased the title for his weight in gold, had failed to protect him, the laws had changed. Queen Juliet, her own knight having dispatched the assassin, had seized control of the throne due to her children’s youth. No one dared mention that her children were surely old enough to ascend the throne now—everyone remembered how competent the Queen’s Guard was. Similarly, no one dared oppose her when the queen declared that all knights must pass a test of merit to earn their right to defend the realm, and that all may apply, noble blood or no. Knights would be provided lodging in shared barracks, which they could reject if they chose to do so. With the overwhelming majority of those eligible for knighthood among the landed gentry still, that left Alexis to have an existential crisis in her own private room in a sparsely occupied barracks, a luxury that had never been afforded her before as the middle of five blacksmith’s daughters.
All this to say: the noise might have been an echo, but Alexis realized that it was more likely to have been one of her few colleagues that lived in the barracks with her. Another couple of thuds sounded, and this time she could better appreciate that they originated from a different room. She let herself relax, her head dropping back to the floor, when there was suddenly the sound of raised voices punctuated by “No!”
Alexis shoved to her feet. Bursting through the door, she cocked her head, listening for the voice again—there! She sprinted towards the source, the room of the only knight who had triumphed in the most recent trial to earn his title, and threw open the door just as another cry sounded.
Alexis came to an abrupt halt at the sight laid out before her. She knew these two knights, mostly because when there had been an uproar over her wearing breeches (and how had the court expected her to dress when she had sword exercises to do?), one of these two knights had donned skirts and fought a performance duel to showcase the mobility issues of weaponry with womenswear. That was Sir Darian, a thin man, tall and skinny like a spear, his muscles disguised among his otherwise lanky build. He always carried himself well, his clothing plain yet of excellent quality, his posture ramrod straight as if he was a scion of the most powerful dukedom in the realm—and he was. Now, he sat on the bed leaned back on his hands, one elegant leg crossed over the other.
Before him, the newest and youngest knight, Sir Hazel, stood frozen. Alexis almost didn’t recognize him, which was understandable because he was bare but for a frilly white shift, one arm tangled awkwardly in the fabric. Alexis didn’t even know where he had obtained such a thing. She had certainly never had such ornate shifts, when she still wore shifts before her knighthood. There was even lace on the edges, which just seemed highly impractical and—wait, why was she bothering about this?
“What is going on here?” she cried, gesturing to the scene before her.
“Wh-what are you doing here?” Hazel all but shrieked, his shoulders hunching and hands darting to cover his privates. It was an ineffectual motion, as the shift already covered his privates and his left hand was still tangled in the bodice of the garment. The abruptness of his movement instead drew Alexis’s attention to the rest of his body. There wasn’t much to observe: he was of an average height and build, not unusually tall like Sir Darian—shorter than Alexis herself, though she knew better than to call attention to that to any man—nor distinctly muscled.
“Hazel! You shall address the good lady knight with all the respect that is due to her, as she is your senior knight.”
“Yes, Sir Darian,” Hazel mumbled.
“What was that? Speak clearly like the knight you are—or might be, one day.”
“Yes, Sir Darian!” Hazel enunciated.
“What kind of knight stands like that? Stand up straight and try again, and go on and apologize to Lady Knight Alexis for your rudeness.”
“Yes, Sir Darian!” Hazel straightened his shoulders and snapped to attention. “Lady Knight Alexis, I apologize sincerely for my rudeness!”
Alexis began to open her mouth to say it was alright (she wasn’t sure if it was, but manners had been drilled into her since her youth), but Sir Darian spoke first. “Good lord, Hazel, you really are quite useless at this whole business. A knight should be able to manage even a greeting without assistance. I was right to begin with—you’d probably make a better lady than a knight. So go on, put on the rest of it.”
“Yes, Sir Darian!”
Alexis’s mouth opened after all, but in shock. She was speechless and powerless to do anything other than watch as Hazel struggled to free his arm, then turned around and bent over, exposing the muscled backs of his thighs and the edge of his very muscled buttocks. Before she could see any more, Hazel straightened, his hands clutching a pile of dark green fabric. Alexis, her eyes untrained as they were, was still able to discern that this cloth was of the same caliber as Sir Darian’s usual garb.
Alexis gulped. “I should leave—”
“Lady Knight Alexis, is it not within your duties to give guidance to your less experienced peers?” Sir Darian said, not looking at her.
“I—”
“And as I am your more experienced colleague, I assure you that my methods for Hazel are appropriate and that your presence is not only welcome but necessary. So do stay where you are.” He looked around, then gestured to a small armchair. “Do sit, though. We’re not at morning practice, thank mercy for that.”
Alexis sat and stayed. She couldn’t refute his logic; he was a senior knight to her as well. Surely he knew what it took to train young knights.
And also he hailed from the most powerful dukedom in the realm.
Under Sir Darian’s watchful eye, Hazel shook out the fabric and stepped into it. He pushed his arms through the sleeves successfully and then stopped, at a loss. “Sir Darian?”
Sir Darian raised one dark eyebrow, as imperious as a dragon arcing its wings. “Yes?”
“Sir, how do I…put this on?”
Reflexively, Alexis’s hands began to try to grab the straps that would lace up to secure the garment in place, but Sir Darian beat her to it. In one fluid motion, he stood, his simple shirt and breeches falling into place as if he had been born in them. They conformed wrinklessly to his body’s whims no matter his position.
His fingers were just as long and lanky as the rest of him. Graceful too, Alexis noted, as they deftly worked the straps. When Sir Darian finished and stood back to survey his work, the knight Hazel was no longer. Somehow, through the magic of Sir Darian’s excellent drapers, the donning of a gown was enough to transform Hazel into a striking, feminine figure. The gown was cut to form long, sweeping lines, and the straps laced into a false corset gave the illusion of a bust where Hazel’s chest was flat as a board. There was just one thing…
“Sir Darian,” Alexis said, hesitantly. “It appears… that your garment makers may have forgotten a panel? In the very front?”
Sir Darian surveyed the front of the gown, which as Alexis has said, lacked a panel of fabric. Without it, the skirt framed Hazel’s exposed frilly shift. As Sir Darian lifted the edge of the gown to inspect it, Alexis saw that the shift was decorated with small ribbon bows at the edges.
“There is no error,” Sir Darian declared. “This is an intentional design by the elite drapers of my family’s realm. All the workers in our brothels are clothed similarly, and we have never had complaints from the clients.”
“Brothels?” Hazel squeaked.
Sir Darian frowned. “Of course. Do you know nothing of the Orchideus dukedom? Our capital comes from linens, silks, and whores. Now, turn around and give us a twirl.”
Hazel obeyed, tripping over his own feet which were now clad in stockings that also had small bows at the tops.
“Oh dear. Not even any good as a lady,” Sir Darian tutted. He tapped his chin, considering. “Lady Knight Alexis,” he intoned. “Would you not say there is room for improvement?”
“Um,” Alexis squeaked, face red.
“I agree,” Sir Darian said. He searched the room, found a small footrest, and placed it in front of the junior knight. “Hazel, bend over.”
“Sir!” Hazel obeyed at once, his head suddenly in Alexis’s lap and his hands caging her muscled thighs.
Sir Darian didn’t bother acknowledging him. He lifted the edge of the frilly skirt and shift again. The sound of skin sliding on skin told Alexis that his other hand was sliding up Hazel’s thigh and was now rubbing over his buttock.
Hazel’s face continued to redden to a deep cherry, but he said nothing. Even as the sound of Sir Darian’s exploring continued, Hazel said nothing. It was only when a light smack! rang through the quiet room that Hazel uttered a small noise that sounded more like a moan than a protest. The corner of Sir Darian’s mouth quirked up.
“Yes,” he murmured. “I do believe I was correct.” He turned to Alexis and enunciated, “Hazel here is certainly more suited to be a whore than a knight.”
“What—?!” chorused both Alexis and Hazel.
“Oh do calm yourselves and away with your prejudices.” Sir Darian rolled his eyes dramatically. “In the Orchideous dukedom, we understand that whoring oneself is a skill that not all are suited for. It is a vocation like any other. Why else would we bother to invest so much in studies on contraception? The whores can hardly make good on their training if they are constantly saddled by the demands of an increasing brood of children.”
Alexis had vaguely heard of contraception but as it didn’t deal with either smithing or knightly duties, she had paid it no mind. It appeared that Hazel did know what it meant, or possibly his squirming was due to whatever Sir Darian was doing between his legs.
“Regardless, the relevant point is that Hazel appears to be exquisitely sensitive and uniquely responsive to touch. I imagine no profession would allow him to excel as much as being a whore of the Orchideous dukedom.”
“But,” Hazel panted, and then paused to moan again, arching his neck in such a way that even Alexis, oblivious as she ordinarily was, noticed how pretty the curve of it was. “But I don’t want to be a whore?”
“Was that a question?” Sir Darian provoked, his voice soft. “Then allow me and the good lady knight Alexis to elucidate. Your body will answer your own question.”
Alexis had the uncanny realization that she had once again been dragged into a Scheme of another’s devising. Before she could chase the thought, Hazel let out a drawn-out moan that drew all her attention. On looking up, she realized that Sir Darian had both hands working busily between Hazel’s legs now, the frilly hem of the shift flipped up to bare everything from his thighs up to the middle of his back. It was a very nice back, from what Alexis could see. Hazel had only sparse, fine golden hairs, allowing anyone looking to see the pleasing angles and lines that made up his body.
Hazel lifted his head to let out a keening moan. Alexis took in his bright red face, his eyes unseeing in favor of the pleasure taking over his body, and felt an answering stirring in her body. She opened her legs minutely, involuntarily.
With a start, Alexis realized that viewing him with an eye for attractiveness rather than physical prowess truly did make Hazel extraordinary.
“You see it, do you not?” Sir Darian asked Alexis. “His body sings as it receives pleasure.”
“Mmhh!” Hazel groaned.
Alexis didn’t answer verbally. She couldn’t. Her eyes were fixed on Hazel’s body, and her mind was rapidly obsessed with the desire to see more. She reached out a hand, unsure of what her plan was but just knowing that her baser self was in control now.
“If you’re going to participate,” Sir Darian commented, a loud smack! resonating through the room once more, “might I suggest you slide forwards a little? Yes, there. Now Hazel, do be a dear and pleasure Lady Knight Alexis.”
Alexis’s head lifted sharply, but Sir Darian’s commanding gaze was even sharper. She lowered her head and watched as Hazel’s fingers fumbled at her belt and haltingly tugged at the fabric of her breeches until they pooled around her ankles. His hands then slid up her legs, his palms settling on her thighs and pushing them open wider so he could more easily fit his face between them.
“Very good, Hazel,” Sir Darian murmured, but Alexis could barely focus on the words he was saying as Hazel began planting hot, open-mouthed kisses on her inner thighs. All of the pent-up arousal she had felt just earlier that day, when she had slid her own fingers inside of Princess Iselde, resurfaced with a vengeance. The entire world shrank to where Hazel touched her, his hands and mouth as hot as the iron she used to smith.
Alexis’s hands sank into Hazel’s hair, her fingers winding into his overly long curls as she leaned back in the armchair. Hazel let out a soft moan, and her fingers tightened their grip, causing him to moan even louder. His mouth climbed steadily higher until it reached the apex of her legs. His tongue darted out, warm and slick, and Alexis gained a greater understanding of the word “pleasure” as she felt his tongue on her wet folds. He was tentative at first but grew bolder quickly, little licks turning into broad sweeps. When his tongue grazed her center of pleasure, Alexis let out a shout.
“Well done, Hazel,” Sir Darian praised. “I am pleased by your performance in the art of pleasure. You do have the makings of an excellent whore.” Whatever he did next caused Hazel to let out a loud keening cry even as he focused the sweeps of his tongue on that nub that was making Alexis see stars.
She was vaguely aware of Sir Darian murmuring something, but her focus was on Hazel shifting position. Soon after, one finger stroked at her folds even as he sucked on her sensitive button. Alexis’s breath caught, and in that moment Hazel’s finger spread her folds and pushed inside her.
Alexis had never felt anything like it. Her vision blurred and her muscles clenched, intensifying the sensations in her body. Hazel keened and pushed the finger further into her, rubbing her inner walls as he alternated between licking and sucking at her core.
“Add another finger, Hazel,” Sir Darian commanded.
Like the obedient whore he was, Hazel obeyed. The resultant stretch caused Alexis’s eyes to roll back in her head a little, her hips bucking up into Hazel’s mouth and her fingers twisting in his hair. She could feel something building, something that she had never felt but had seen crest in Princess Iselde under her own hands.
Hazel crooked his fingers upwards and sucked hard, and suddenly Alexis was falling, heat blooming in every inch of her body with the suddenness of a summer storm as her mind whited out.
When she was able to think again, she propped herself up so she could look at Hazel between her thighs. He was still lapping at her folds, but they were too sensitive now, and she pushed his head away tiredly. Every one of her muscles was languid, loose. She wondered idly if she would be able to do morning exercises tomorrow.
Hazel dropped his head on her thigh, panting, his face smeared with her fluids and his cheeks flushed. His eyes were focused on her intensely, fixed on the apex of her thighs as if he longed for nothing more than to pleasure Alexis all over again.
“Excellent work, the both of you.” Alexis had quite forgotten about Sir Darian until then. Her gaze swept up and found him standing behind Hazel as before, except his breath was coming in pants as well and his breeches were undone. With a small start, she realized Sir Darian was rutting his cock between Hazel’s thighs. As she watched, Sir Darian reached forward and swiped his fingers through the wet mess between Alexis’s thighs, which he then smeared on his own cock. He sighed, his eyes half-closing in pleasure as he sped up his movements.
Hazel was shifting now, angling his hips upwards as if to try and garner more friction. Sir Darian rewarded his initiative by slipping a hand underneath, the same hand that had helped itself to Alexis’s wetness. Hazel gave out a sudden cry and began shifting insistently. The slick sounds of skin on skin told Alexis that Sir Darian must be stroking Hazel’s cock even as he used Hazel for his own pleasure.
“Wouldn’t you say, Lady Knight Alexis,” he panted, “that Hazel provided admirable service?”
“Yes,” she breathed, her eyes huge. She couldn’t look away from the debauched scene going on right in front of her, between her own wide-open legs. “Yes, he was very good.”
Hazel keened. Sir Darian grinned, his eyes alight. “I see,” he chuckled softly. “He is indeed a wonderful slut.”
Hazel cried out and moved even faster, bucking wildly. Sir Darian laughed in delight. “See! Your body tells the truth. You want this. You want to be a whore!”
“Yes. Yes!” Hazel threw his head back and screamed.
Then Sir Darian did something with the hand stroking Hazel, and immediately, Hazel’s body seized. He groaned louder than ever before, his movements ceasing with an arch of his back. Alexis felt something wet splatter on her legs, but she was barely noticed, too captivated by the sight of Sir Darian tossing his own head back and groaning.
Their pleasure seemed to go on forever but was also over before a moment had passed. Silence followed.
Alexis didn’t, couldn’t move. It was, of course, Sir Darian who broke the stillness by withdrawing from between Hazel’s thighs. He wiped his cock nonchalantly on a handkerchief that likely cost more than Alexis’s family made in a year, then gave one last smack to Hazel’s buttock before tucking himself back into his clothing.
“Without a doubt, more suited to being a whore than a knight,” he commented. “Wouldn’t you agree, Lady Knight Alexis?”
Alexis answered the only thing she could, after such a performance. “Yes,” she concurred, her mind fuzzy and her core tingling with just the memory of what had transpired today. “Most definitely.”
*Bonus scene*
[After, as they’re cleaning up]
Alexis, beginning to feel bad about making Hazel pleasure her: Maybe he could be a knight while he’s training to be, um, one of your brothel workers?
Sir Darian: [big sigh] Fiiiiiine
Hazel: Is anyone going to ask me? 😭