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I've ripped my gloves off with my teeth too many times to fuck my squire in the stables, now I see him in the hall and crave the taste of leather

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Thinking about cockwarming again. You and your squire camped out in a cavern to shelter from the wind. He takes your armor off piece by piece to warm you by the fire, and you're just so still as he does. Watching the flush in his cheeks as he reveals more of your skin and god, he must be so warm inside. It's compulsive, you have to be in him now, you need to fill him up, he must be so empty and cold.

Thinking his duty fulfilled, he goes to remove his own damp garments only for you to dig your fingers in his waist and grip him towards you, flesh to flesh. He yelps, no real fight in it. He clatters into your lap, his dripping cunt brushing against you and it's the easiest thing in the world to enter him. It must be godly to fill him up like this, his true duty to take your cock. A good squire and you his good knight. He squirms and moans but you hold him fast against you not giving an inch. And it does the job, that blush all the way down his chest and thighs, you're a good lord for keeping the warmth and hearth for your boy.

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if you're still open for prompts, perhaps knight/squire bondage of some flavour?

Oh absolutely.

My squire has not met up to my exacting standards.

When I lose the day's tourney, it must be because my armor is not maintained enough, my sword not sharpened enough, my horse not cared for enough.

Perhaps a night in the stocks will help him rise to the occasion in the future.

And while his hands are bound, chafing against the wood, on his knees and penitent, I will be a good lord and remind him of another way he can serve me better.

In the dark and chill, I will come up from behind in my full kit, so he can hear me approach. I'll drag down his braies without a word of warning. If he has learned his lesson, his hips will rise like it's an order. I'll hear his breath quicken. Smell the wet of his cunt in the night air.

I'll drag the pommel of my rondel along his wetness and watch him strain against his bindings. I'll do this until he starts begging for relief, "Please, my lord, please let me serve you. On my life, sir, I will do better, I am yours, I am yours."

He'll hiss with relief and pleasure as I finally start fucking him to the guard of the blade. I will make a good squire of him yet.

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Kn(ussy)

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Two so very pious knights competing in a tourney. What's wrong with a friendly wager for each round? Some extra motivation. After all, nothing wrong with a cock in your mouth as long as it's a punishment for losing. It's what you deserve.