The setting of this story came to mind while I traveled on a Viking river cruise on the Rhine River in Germany. The river is lined with ancient castles, lit in the evening creating a most romantic setting. A very good friend of mine (and editor) suggested I write a story about a castle, which was a favorite subject of hers.
*
Jason aroused suddenly from sleep, awakened by the brilliant morning rays of sunlight streaming through the windows. His mind was clouded as if covered with a translucent web. He was unsure of his whereabouts as he opened his eyes. His head was resting on a woman's thigh, providing a pillow softer than goose down and smoother than the finest silk fabric. It certainly was not the horsehair mattress and rope hammock to which he was accustomed. He had only a vague recollection of what had occurred the night before, as he felt he was recovering from a stupor, the result of overconsumption of wine. His face was pointed at this woman's pussy as she lay nude on the bed. The vision was highlighted with a single beam of sunlight strewn from a gap in the curtains aimed at her pussy. He sensed she was still asleep and lying still in spite of his intimacy. As he directed his gaze to her privates, he could see a single finger resting between her nether lips. The tip of the finger disappeared between her mounds as it rested on her clitoris. He followed her finger upward with his eyes to the arm of a second woman, embracing the first but also in a peaceful sleep.
He lifted himself cautiously from the bed. He felt, immediately, a fresh abrasion around his wrists. As he rubbed the tender skin, he thought to himself,
I don't remember this. What really went on last night?
His eyes wandered around the capacious room. The walls were cream-colored, and adorned with gold gilding that embellished the frames of the mirrors adorning the room and the ceiling.
The bed he occupied had a feather-filled mattress sizable enough to permit an entire family to sleep on its spaciousness. On the far side of the bed were two other young women whom he recognized. They were facing him but asleep, entirely nude and lying bare, physically embracing like two spoons back to front. He saw their faces, and Jason started to recollect what had transpired the night before. He looked at the two, remembering their names, Greta and Kristen. Greta's hands were on Kristen's breasts, legs intertwined with her partner's legs, and Greta's head rested on the crook of Kristen's neck.
It was Deidra and Princess Karin with whom he was bedding. And it was the princess's thigh where he had rested his head to fall asleep the night before. As he looked up at her face, her eyes opened for the first time. When she saw he was in the room, with the four of them dishabille, she sat up quickly in a state of alarm at his presence. Deidra's fingers had been resting on the princess's small firm nipple. Covering herself with the bed linens, the princess shrieked at Greta and Kristen, "Remove this peasant from my bed chamber and send him on his way, immediately!" She lifted her arm and forcefully pointed to the door to emphasize her intention.
The two handmaidens did not even bother to get dressed. They each went to the side of Jason, and grabbed his upper arms, directing him to the floor-to-ceiling chamber door that required the effort of both maidens to open. As they left the room, Greta gathered his few clothes and once outside the room, she handed over his rough burlap pants and torn button-less shirt, pausing briefly to allow him time to dress himself. They both kept still as he robed for fear of irritating the now irascible Princess. Jason felt an uncomfortable ache in his mouth as his tongue moved and his recollection became clearer as if condensation was being wiped from a steamed mirror. The things he had been forced to do the night before; his duties; his penance; his punishment. The princess stood at the doorway, after donning her silk robe which wafted openly as she walked to the doorway, slamming the door shut behind them as they left the room.
Greta and Kristen led him to the front of the castle. His cart stood undisturbed from where he had left it the night before. They were out of the vision of the princess now.
"You have quite a talent for womanly pleasure," Greta told him.
Kristen followed, "Where did you learn to do that, to do those naughty acts, to pleasure so many women in a single night?"
Then they both said nearly in unison, "
WE WANT OUR TURN
!"
The mental fog resulting from the the wine had now cleared and they handed him a bottle of water to refresh his mouth. He first washed off a dry, crusty film on his face, and then took a large drink of the fresh water, relishing the refreshment. He started to walk down the path, dragging his cart, with a newfound strength after the deep sleep he had partaken. As he dragged the cart over the cobblestones, he started to remember the events of the last few days..........
It was a laborious task. Jason, a commoner from the town, had to keep the Princess's hilltop castle, which dominated the view from the village below, supplied with provisions. It was his job; a job he needed to survive. The few coins he collected provided his meals and shelter. He had no wife and no children; he was a loner. Work to live: that was his purpose. Each week, he collected the items that Princess Karin ordered him to bring to the castle.