Castle: 1. The Chance Taken

Early Morning Activities

The castle sat raised on a hill, and from the western side, it was only a few hundred feet from the beach, and the Caribbean sea. Farmland surrounded the roadways leading up to on each side, with a treelike that started about half a mile from the castle walls. Prince Arthur, the oldest unmarried son of the King, was the royal inhabitant of the castle and all the people inside the castle liked that the King stayed on the other islands and stayed away.  

Every morning, the prince and a few of his closest guards went for a hunt. They went for a few hours, to catch deer, wild boar, and anything else that they could bring back for the evening feast. As the troop came back from their hunt, he liked to give the villagers, farmers, and others that lived in the shadows of his castle most of the meat captured, bringing back only a single deer and a single boar on most trips.

Ian stood in the courtyard next to the stable. Arthur had just mounted Ian’s favorite horse; he adjusted the reins, slipped his hand down to make sure his bow was still by his side.

“Thank you stable boy,” the prince said. “I appreciate how well groomed and maintained you keep the horses.”

“You’re welcome, your Highness,” Ian responded. He kept his head down and adjusted the back of the saddle so it would rest best on the horse. He slapped the horse on the back. The prince gave the horse a little kick and whipped the reins. The animal ambled forward, then galloped away with the prince mounted to the saddle on his back. The rest of the prince’s hunting party followed him out of the gates. Ian watched the group ride away.

A young chamber maid stood nearby and watched Ian. She had two buckets of water sitting on the ground next to her. It was the same two buckets she carried down for water from the well multiple times a day. Her black hair whipped around in the breeze, the slight curls at the ends fell down onto her shoulders, or over her dress. As she stood and watched Ian, she played with her hair, her long fingers twisted the curls that fell onto the bare portion of her chest. With her large, brown eyes, a smile so white he could easily see it from across the courtyard, she blushed when Ian finally looked over toward her. She grabbed her buckets of water and went into the castle.

The chambermaid bumped into her best friend, Sierra, kitchen. The pair of them had a short conversation as they walked up the stairs toward the main portion of the castle.

“Is it weird I find Ian so cute, even as he watches those horses ride away every day?” The chambermaid asked Sierra.

“It probably is Shelby,” Sierra said. “I honestly don’t see what you find so great about him. He’s just a stable boy.”

“I don’t know, there’s just something about him.”

A window cut into the stairwell, halfway up allowed Shelby to look out. She watched as Ian pulled another of the prince’s horses out of the stable. She watched him with a brush in his hand. She watched him slide a hand along the horse’s shoulder muscle. He grabbed a brush of soapy water from the bucket at his feet; he gave a long steady stroke vigorously along his back. She imagined that his hands were big, strong, calloused from the years of grooming the horses. She closed her eyes.

Ian’s fingers slid down Shelby’s shoulders. The soap causing them to slip over her skin effortlessly. He massaged the muscle in each of them. Her body weakened at his touch. Her knees shook. He massaged the soap into her tricep muscle; she felt her body respond, her nipples hardened at the sensations, her pussy tingled.

Ian thrust his right arm forward, Shelby turned to face him. He knelt down in front of her to get more soapy water out of the bucket. She could feel his eyes going over her body, first her tits, then her pussy. He stayed knelt down, but put the soapy sponge against her stomach and started to work it in small circles. She could feel the water dripping down, over her mound, between her lips.

“Are you coming?” Sierra asked, over a dozen steps in front of her up the stairs.

“Of course,” Shelby said.

“What are you thinking about? Your cheeks are all red again.” Sierra’s smile was thin but very suggestive. “I bet I can guess.” Those words rang down the stairway teasingly.

“When I catch you.” Shelby lifted the water buckets up again and scampered up the stairs behind her friend, her feet stomped, an attempt to be menacing. The girls went up the stairs, they giggled so loud everyone heard them as they reached the landing.

The Hunting Party Returns

The hours had passed at the castle. The chambermaids had spent the day cleaning, the kitchen staff had prepared all the meat, vegetables, and beer prepared and served at the nightly feast. The prince had returned with the day’s hunt; a single boar, a single large buck, and a cart of vegetables from the villagers happy to trade. The prince boasted about the number of deer he killed that day, the four boar that now were resting in the bellies of the villagers, and a few squirrels, rabbits, and other miscellaneous small game. 

Ian took the horses from the prince and his hunting party and put each of them in the stable. He started to groom each of them; he removed any large, dirty messes from the horses. He checked them to see if there were any cuts, scrapes, bruises that needed immediate attention and found nothing out of the ordinary. He dropped the last saddle onto its hook and saw Shelby standing at the far side of the stable. She had watched him for a few minutes. He motioned for her to come over. He picked up the grooming brush and walked into one stall; she followed him in.

“Have you ever brushed a horse?” Ian asked.

“No,” Shelby said. Ian handed her the brush.

“Let me show you how.” Ian turned the brush in her hand so that the strap went over the backside of her hand. “You take your other hand,” he grabbed her other hand, “and stroke him down the length of his neck. When he seems calm, you take the brush and stroke it through his hair.” 

Shelby felt the coarseness of the horse’s hair as her hand slipped over the horse’s neck. The sensation was new to her; she had never been this close to a horse. She could feel the muscles tense and relax under her hand. Her senses went into overload when Ian put his hand on the back of hers and he lifted the brush hand up. She gave over completely to his movements.

“Now he is relaxed, put the brush against his shoulder and brush toward his back.”

The couple stood there for a few minutes like this; they stroked the brush through the horse’s hair. They brushed out the dirt clumps. The last of the light faded out from the sky and a few torches provided the bit of light now being seen throughout the doorways of the stables.

“Tomorrow I’ll brush him again, and bathe him.”

Shelby turned, letting herself get trapped between Ian’s arms. 

“It’s always good to bathe the dirty things.” Shelby blushed a little, her eyes looking up to Ian’s eyes. He could see that her lips were full and bent down to kiss them.

“I hope that was ok,” Ian whispered softly.

Shelby reached up with both of her hands to place them on each side of Ian’s head; she pulled him back down to her lips. He pressed her up against the side of the horse. She bit his bottom lip. She shook the brush off of her hand; the brush fell to the floor with a loud clank. Ian pulled back a little at the sound, looked around the stables and saw a few people mulling about outside. She blushed and then ducked out from under his arm.

Shelby ran into Sierra on her way back into the castle. She quickly recapped the last few minutes of her life and Sierra gave her a frown.

“I hope you are ready for the feast now,” Sierra said. “You know how these guys will not be gentle like Ian was.”

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For the #WickedWednesday prompt this week I got to tackle the idea of Fantasy, so I had some fun with it, and I’ve prepped a nice long 4 part story. So, sit back, enjoy, and I’d love to hear your thoughts as comments or feel free to send me emails.