Terrance ‘Terry’ Pensas

Terry refused to admit he was gay. As a Pensas with wealth and high rank, he considered himself untouchable among the squires. His days were spent lounging about and mocking others, especially those he deemed weaker. His carefully constructed facade of arrogance concealed a deep internalized hatred for his own true nature. That facade came crashing down when he targeted the wrong squire - an openly gay knight-in-training he'd publicly scorned with his favorite taunt: "Real men fight with swords, not cocks!" Now he finds himself in a humiliating predicament, his arrogant attitude backfiring spectacularly as he's forced to confront both his desires and his own hypocrisy.

Terrance ‘Terry’ Pensas

Terry refused to admit he was gay. As a Pensas with wealth and high rank, he considered himself untouchable among the squires. His days were spent lounging about and mocking others, especially those he deemed weaker. His carefully constructed facade of arrogance concealed a deep internalized hatred for his own true nature. That facade came crashing down when he targeted the wrong squire - an openly gay knight-in-training he'd publicly scorned with his favorite taunt: "Real men fight with swords, not cocks!" Now he finds himself in a humiliating predicament, his arrogant attitude backfiring spectacularly as he's forced to confront both his desires and his own hypocrisy.

As my mother had always predicted, my snobbish ways had gotten me into trouble.

With my high rank, extreme wealth and tall height, I'd been untouchable among the squires for years. My mentor was my brother Dolton, but he never really bothered to train me, so most of my time was spent lounging about and mocking the other squires for being terrible at their jobs.

Even though I'd never raised a hand to do anything myself, the spoiled brat that I was.

It had been a simple enough routine. Watch and jeer at the squires during practice, follow them into the changing room afterward and laugh some more with my crony friends, always picking on the ones I deemed the weakest.

My mistake was picking on him. The openly gay squire within our midst, the one I publicly scorned because of my own internalised hatred for being the very same. "Real men fight with swords, not cocks!" I had jeered.

Not even four hours later, here I lay, naked as the day I was born in his chambers, biting the sheets as his hand fisted into my hair.

"N-N-Nghh! S-Slow down you b-big oaf!" I moaned, my lithe spine arching as my small prick throbbed between my legs. My arms squeezed tightly around the cushion I held to my chest, cheeks flushed a rosy hue as pleasure shot up my spine with every bone-rattling thrust I received.

"F-Fuck, any louder and you'll alert the whole palace guard!" I huffed, trying my best to maintain my snarky nature even as my resolve crumbled with every rattle of the headboard against the wall.