by Architect of Men

 As young squire Sebastian celebrates becoming a real knight, he has only one misgiving: his scrawny stature compared to his new compatriots. Fortunately, his mentor has laid plans to help him overcome this problem.

Added: Nov 2021 Updated: 20 Nov 2021 2,367 words 4,778 views 4.9 stars (7 votes)


Sebastian couldn’t believe his ears when he heard his name called. He had been hand chosen by the Knight Commander to be formally promoted into a real Knight, not a Squire! He was so excited! He’d get to kneel before the Queen herself, and pledge to aid her decree with every fiber of his being, though the years of apprenticeship had been incredibly long and grueling, he would finally get to venture out and help people.

Sure, he doubted that he would find himself fighting dragons in volcanic lairs or battling against an army of the undead like the village storyteller used to always talk about. He knew his experience with Knighthood would be much less fanciful and full of whimsy, but he didn’t care about that. Frankly, he was just happy to be able to earn a living doing something besides farming like his father or serving in a castle like his mother. He loved them both dearly, but he yearned for a life in service to the people directly, he didn’t want to feed them or wash the nobility’s clothes.

However, due to his impoverished upbringing, he wasn’t always able to eat well, this led to a smaller stature than what would be considered the typical knightly frame. As he walked to his soon-to-be vacant dormitory, he hoped that his physical weakness wouldn’t be cause for the Knight Commander or Gods forbid the Queen herself from deciding that he wasn’t cut out to be a knight after all. What he lacked in physical strength, he made up for in wit and cunning. Not to mention eagerness and enthusiasm.

His room was the same as it always was, impeccably clean and neat, just as Sir Belcor preferred. As he gathered his few belongings into an old trunk that his mother had smuggled out of the lord’s manor where she worked, he noticed something fall out of his bundle of clothes. Crouching to retrieve the item, it appeared to be a small, modestly decorated box made from cedar wood. Attached to it was a scrap of parchment with the letter S inscribed upon it in beautiful calligraphic handwriting. Though he wasn’t the best at reading and writing, a knight must know enough to comprehend orders at the very least.

Sir Sebastian,

Allow me the privilege of being the first person to refer to you as a full-fledged knight of the Crown! I am so proud of you, even though you still look like the scrawny little squire they assigned to me all those years ago, you’ve proven everyone wrong. Sure, the Queen sponsored your apprenticeship, but most of us at the Knight’s Academy were skeptical about you—to say the least.

I know you’ll do everyone proud and you’ll stand a beacon of virtue until your last breath. Unfortunately, though, not without a little help. I’ve decided to give you a small graduation gift. Within this box is my lucky crest. Pin it to your undershirt beneath your armor and it’ll help you in ways you couldn’t fathom.

Your new colleague,

Sir Belcor

Sebastian was astounded. Though he knew that Sir Belcor didn’t dislike him, he wasn’t much for sentimentality. Gently, as if holding a newly born baby, Sebastian opened the box and lifted the cloth covering the crest. It shone with a subtle radiance that one could only see if they knew to look at it.

“This must have some protection runes inscribed into it, makes sense as to why he called it his lucky crest,” Sebastian thought aloud. “This is such an incredible gift, I have to be sure I thank him in person for this!”

And with that, Sebastian disrobed and immediately pinned the crest to his underclothes as instructed. Reclothing himself, he then finished packing his belongings and carried them to the wagon he had rented. Soon, he would set out for the capital city, Feras, jewel of the Queendom of Anathia where he had an appointment. Couldn’t miss his own knighting ceremony, after all.

After several hours had passed, Sebastian noticed a peculiar sensation on his chest near where he had pinned the crest. It felt as if he had a warm stone touching him. Knowing the sun would set soon, he decided to set up camp early, and he and his mare settled down in a little alcove just off the road and right next to a small brook.

As Sebastian laid down, he found that sleep was eluding him. That warming sensation hadn’t faded any. He thought maybe he was having a reaction to the magic in the crest. He had heard of people sometimes being allergic to certain enchantments, but those cases usually lasted only as long as physical contact was maintained. Now, though, the heat was spreading across his upper body, and it felt as if his heart were made of cinders.

Sebastian had stumbled over into the small stream next to the camp when he suddenly doubled over from a sharp pain in his torso and chest. Gasping, he looked down at his body for surely he must be wounded, but there were none. In fact, his midsection was rapidly gaining muscle! As a squire, Sebastian had lots of physical training and kept himself in the best shape he could manage, but try as he might, he was always scrawny and small statured. Now he had a glorious eight pack of abs, suited to his newly lengthened torso perfectly.

As his stomach calmed from the shifting, the warmth moved north, onto his pecs, or what would have been his pecs. The thin, wiry muscles he had soon began to morph into two large, meaty mounds, so large that he almost felt immodest for not covering them. Dense, dark hair covered the new mountains on his chest.

Something changed in his mind after his new pecs settled—he began to get over the raw shock of his transformation and was now getting aroused by the sensations. No longer were they painful, now they just felt sore at the most, but always, there was pleasure hidden just beneath.

He felt the warmth envelop his head and closed his eyes, his face morphed into a larger, more masculine one, as his naturally androgynous appearance was quickly melting away: jawline becoming chiseled, hair darkening into a deep brown, eyes lighting into a stark blue. He moaned in a deeper voice, one that could make all but the most chaste fly out of their garments. His face itched mildly, and soon he boasted a full beard. He was becoming the embodiment of masculinity.

The warmth spread to his arms and shoulders, everything growing at once. Hair spread out like trees in a forest, thick veins set into his arms, pulsing with the power of the beefiest blacksmith. Traps growing and shoulders widening out, soon his biceps were size of a normal man’s calf. Triceps and hands growing to match the new arms that adorned this beautiful body, thick dark hair carpeted his arms all the way to the knuckle, just thinning out at the wrist. Lost in the euphoria, Sebastian didn’t notice the warmth continuing into his lower body, his feet more than doubling in size, calves thickening, thighs that could break bones, his ass broadening out to match his chest—all covered in that uniform forest of hair.

As the warmth homed in around his nether regions, the euphoria got more intense. His manhood pulsing to full mast, beating in tune to his heart. His balls began pulsing as well, growing to the size of lemons to keep up with such a virile body. With his new ten-inch rod and bigger balls, Sebastian was so lost in the lust of his transformation that he couldn’t help but caress himself. His precum flowing like a fountain, drenching the ground in front of him, only turned him on more.

Like a man possessed, Sebastian stroked, moaning and swaying until he came. A torrent of cum released itself from him, spilling into the stream he was camped next to, nearly a gallon of alabaster painted the water white. Collapsing, Sebastian fell into the deepest sleep of his entire life.

The road was long, and he had only little over a month to arrive in the capital for the Knighting. Sensing his worry, the soon-to-be knight’s mare whinnied, kicking a bit of mud around.

“I know, girl, we should make it in time, but I’m more so worried about arriving in this ridiculously undersized gear! None of my armor fits me anymore and my sword is little better than a letter opener, I can’t arrive before the Queen like this!” Sebastian exclaimed, raising his arms into the air dramatically.

The horse huffed.

“Oh, don’t act like that! I had no way of knowing that Sir Belcor’s rune would transform me!” The man declared, crossing his arms.

A long silence passed.

“Oh, fine! All right? I should’ve been careful and will be more so in the future, although I don’t necessarily hate my new form, it is certainly better at slaying the evils of this world than my previous self.”

Exasperated, Sebastian laid down on his mare’s back, sighing,

“I just hope I can find some more acceptable clothing and armor before the ceremony.”

Later that night, Sebastian noticed screaming in the distance, and saw a caravan being accosted by brigands. Complete chaos had taken control of the little camp, some people fleeing for their lives, others trying to hide with the children, and others still trying to fight back against the bandits. Unsheathing his sword, Sebastian spurred his steed into a gallop and shouted a war cry.

At first, he seemed to have startled the bandits, an opportunity he made sure to capitalize upon. Slicing his sword in a downward arc, he caught the man in his neck, blood spurting as he fell to the ground, clutching his death wound. His element of surprise over, another bandit flung one of her bladed fans at him, catching him in his left shoulder. Grimacing, Sebastian managed to overcome the pain and wrench the fan out of his arm, he then flung it out, missing the female bandit, but striking another in the back of the head, killing him instantly. The pain in his left arm throbbing rhythmically, a familiar heat taking residence within it.

Sebastian, close to falling due to blood loss, swayed but managed to hold on to his mare’s reigns. His left arm now completely useless, he had to use his sword arm to hold the reigns, so he slid down off of the horse and cried out, charging. The blade dancer bandit was caught off guard by the bravado of this knight, and was unable to dodge the death blow, however she did manage to extend her fans to the point where they stabbed Sebastian as he impaled her on his blade. Time seemed to slow, Sebastian locked into a dance for death with this woman who’s name he did not even know. They locked eyes, and for what felt like forever stayed that way. Time began flowing again, and with it, the blood of both the Blade Dancer and the Knight. Her eyes glazed over, and the soul fled her body. Sebastian felt his consciousness fading as well, he collapsed, the fight over.

The remaining bandits had defeated the caravan, and the burly thugs soon circles him, grinning as they watched him bleed. Sebastian’s pain ebbed away, gradually replaced by that same warming sensation he had before from his crest. He began moaning from the pleasure washing over him, as the warmth reached his wounds, they knitted themselves together and vanished, leaving only a faint scar behind. Though Sebastian felt no sexual arousal in this life and death situation, he felt a warm trickle down his leg, startled, he assumed he must be bleeding and began ripping his pants to make a tourniquet.

The bandits were all stunned at this display of healing magic, they suddenly began to wonder if they would be able to defeat him again if he can just regenerate himself like this. Sebastian, now half naked from the waist down, saw that the warm trickle was, in fact, not blood. Instead, it was a steady flow of precum, flowing from his flaccid seven inch manhood.

Distantly, as if muffled, Sebastian heard the bandits shouting to one another to circle him and kill him before he could heal fully. Once again, the large, muscular men surrounded the Knight, only to be paralyzed as the warm puddle around him expanded and crawled up their legs. Afraid, they began screaming and feebly clawing at the warm liquid creeping further onto their bodies. Soon, the screams turned into moans of pleasure, and the bandits were frozen in a state of euphoria, unable to move at all except for the occasional twitch as orgasms found them.

Sebastian looked at what had taken place around him, and was both shocked and aroused. He stood and tried to check for survivors, but as he did, the puddle enveloped him as well, planting his feet firmly in place. The moans of the bandits was quieting, and he looked up to see the precum holding his adversaries hostage was retracting, releasing bandits as it passed. Expecting another fight, Sebastian tensed and waited, but the bandits fell unconscious as the musky liquid retreated.

Still firmly locked in place, Sebastian could only watch as his magical precum began to retreat back into his dick, stuffing his overfull balls to the maximum capacity. As the last of it entered him, he exploded into a mind shattering orgasm, and fell unconscious just like the bandits around him, all of the men sporting throbbing boners, their armor and clothes having been dissolved by the ignorant Knight’s magic.

Update posts:
Weekly Update: 6 November 2021Weekly Update: 20 November 2021

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