Prince Bonir Vol. 03

After mass Sister Dominia stood up and gave a speech thanking me for my support of the Abbey, providing means and the labor needed to restore the Chapel. She thanked the "civilians" that lived in the Abbey for all the work they had done and continued to do that allowed the Abbey to remain in operation. Then she asked me to say a few words. I got up and thanked Sister Dominia for opening up her house to "others in need" and spoke of the importance of working together for common good. I wrapped it up thanking everyone for coming and that, I thought, was it.

Sister Dominia came up to me after I finished speaking; because she was right in front of me, I failed to notice all of the "wytches" head off in the same direction as a group. "I do thank you, your Grace," she said, "for without your experiment, I have no doubt the Abbey would have closed by now. Instead, it is in the best shape it has been in my lifetime. And the ladies residing in the west hall to a one feel that they owe you their very lives. Surely God smiles on such acts of kindness and charity."

"Well, thank you Sister..." I stumbled awkwardly, uncomfortable being the target of such praise.

"I also understand that it is your birthday today?" she continued.

My eyes shot up in surprise; I expected she would have no idea, or she might have rescheduled this dedication.

"Indeed it is," I replied.

"May you have many more, and may Averic prosper so long as you rule," she said by way of blessing, "but the ladies in the west hall...as I understand it, they have planned some special surprises for your Grace's birthday. Indeed, they asked that I hold this dedication today, for they feared that you might not accept the invitation were they to send it, but knew that you would not turn down the requests of the Abbey." I glanced at Eve, who was looking around nonchalantly. I could tell that there was pure mischief in those dark flashing eyes—mischief which seemed to always mean good things for me. "From...other rumors I have heard, I am quite certain that I wish to know nothing of what those surprises may be. The Sisters and I shall retire to the east hall and remain there until the morrow. Father shall be hearing confessions after morning mass, should have need for it." With a slight bow, Sister turned and headed for the door at the back of the church.

I turned on Eve, eyes piercing but not angry. "What have you arranged?" I demanded.

"The ladies of the Abbey wished to show Your Grace their appreciation. They asked me if I knew anything that Your Grace really liked, and I was honest; worldly things do not sway the Duke, save one. Everything else they cooked up on their own; I merely told them things that you liked and disliked, and helped arrange for you to be here today."

I did not know what to say, but was saved by Arianna's approaching. "I do not mean to disturb you, my lord," she said, "but some of the residents of the Abbey have planned a little event on your behalf. Please allow me to show you the way?" Although I did not fear, I was still guarded as I had no idea what might be in store. I went to signal for my guards to follow, but saw that they were already in formation and ready to move out. Perhaps I alone was in the dark.

Arianna and Eve led me across the courtyard to the western of the two stone residence halls of the Abbey. Each was a self-contained living unit; the entry was in the middle of the first floor, as were the communal rooms, the dining hall, kitchens and the like. The two floors above it held small individual rooms designed for the nuns, with a small chapel on the third floor.

Entering the hall, I was met by Jauffrey, who was holding some manner of cloth. "Welcome to your very special birthday celebration, my lord," he said, with eyes almost as mischievous as Eve's—something never before seen from the Captain of my guard. "These vineyards the Abbey now tends date back to Roman times. They say that women of the villages would celebrate the harvest with ceremonies dedicated to the god Bacchus. In honor of Your Grace's birthday, the residents would like to stage for you a celebration that recalls Bacchanals of days long past." He held out the cloth, and I could see that it was a white tunic in the Roman style. "In life you may be the Duke, but for tonight, you are the Caesar, Emperor of Rome!"

The word Bacchanal could have several shades of meaning, from a debauchery of feasting and wine up to a full-fledged orgy. Regardless of what was all planned on my behalf, it was novel and promised to be entertaining. I slipped behind a screen, emerging with the robe, a toga, and even lace-up sandals like Romans were thought to have worn. Arianna, now also in a Roman-style garment, brought me a crown of branches. As I put it on, Jauffrey and Eve reappeared, also in Roman attire. Jauffrey was always so serious; it was good to see him letting loose a little and playing along with this party. He pointed me towards the dining hall, saying "Hail, Caesar!"

The dining hall was much longer than it was wide, and all of the tables had been removed from the left half of the room. However, a large chair had been placed in the middle of the far left wall, and I was led to it; evidently, this would be my throne. There was a small knee-high table next to the chair, but the only other items in this half of the hall were six stand-alone kneelers, the sort used by altar boys or for confessions, to the left of the throne as I sat. I presumed the kneelers were there simply because there had been no other place to put them, but I did notice that all of the windows had been covered up.

I settled into my chair, asking "And now?"

"Perhaps the emporer would like a drink?" Eve suggested. Not a bad idea, I nodded.

"His Highness Caesar requires some drink!" Jauffrey called out. This turned out to be the signal that began the show.

A figure emerged from the far end of the room, appearing at first to be carrying a tray. She too was wearing a white Roman gown. She came out of a door at the back left, walked towards a large center aisle formed by staggering the space between the dining tables, then turned and walked directly towards me. Even before I could see her face I recognized her for her wildly curly chestnut hair as Arla, a girl I had sent to the Abbey about three months before. The tray she carried appeared to hold a large pillow. There was also something odd about the way she walked, and as she neared me I made out what it was. She was not, in fact, holding the tray at all, instead, there was a leather collar about her neck as a prisoner might have, and a thin chain ran from the ring set in the collar to the edge of the tray. Further secured by a belt around her torso, she was carrying the tray without the use of her hands—indeed, I could not see her hands at all.

She came to a stop right in front of my "throne." I saw that she wore no shoes and had leather cuffs on her ankles as well. I could see now that her arms were drawn behind her; I realized that she likely wore wrist restraints as well, and that they were bound together. I was reminded of when first I found Eve in my dungeon. She knew all too well what I liked.

Eve stepped out from behind me and took the pillow from the tray. What I saw then made me draw my breath in deeply—with the pillow no longer in the way, I saw that her tunic was clasped at her right shoulder but not at her left, so that her gown fell loosely across her torso, leaving her left breast completely uncovered. It was pale as was all her skin, with soft freckles here and there, and the nipple was almost brown.

Eve threw down the pillow on the ground at my feet. Arla knelt upon it, looking up at me plaintively. She seemed to want something, but...what?

Eve bent and whispered into my ear "Arla would be most hurt if you did not accept that which she is offering you." I slowly reached for the exposed breast; her face expectantly anticipated my touch. I touched it with my fingertips; she closed her eyes and gave herself to the sensations I was creating. I gently circled the nipple with my forefinger; in the slight chill of the stone room, it was already erect. Then I cupped my hand, attempting to grasp its entire mass but coming up short; I had not realized how ample the girl's bosom was in my previous encounters with her.

As I savored the feel of the breast in my hand, I became aware of a second figure walking down the aisle towards me. She had long, straight fair hair, and was as slender as Arianna but considerably taller—one of the tallest women I'd ever seen, in fact. She was one of the newest residents, and by appearance very young; her name was Sarah. She wore the same robe, only hers was unbound from either shoulder and the top hung loosely from the belt at her midsection, leaving her completely naked from the waist up. She also wore collars and cuffs; the tray suspended from her neck carried a silver goblet.

Arla sensed her time was up and stood; perhaps I had unconsciously stopped my gentle squeezing of Arla's breast while watching lovely young Sarah approach. She took a step to the side, where Arianna unclipped and removed the tray. Sarah was now at my feet; Eve took the goblet from her tray and placed it on the small table next to the throne. She now knelt on the pillow. Her breasts were small but their nipples were exceptionally large and firm; I held them and felt their singular texture as I rolled them between my thumb and first two fingers. She two closed her eyes and held her breath as she I touched her sensitive chest.

Already a third woman was heading up the aisle. I looked around quickly to see what had become of Arla, and saw that she was now kneeling at the first of the line of kneelers to my left. There were six kneelers; did that mean there would be six lovely "wytches" taking part in this event? My heart began really racing then, and my loins, which had sprung up at the first sight of Arla's breast, were now fully alert. I noticed that in the roomy Roman robe, its growth was not encumbered as it would have been in modern dress. Perhaps the Romans had more things figured out than I realized.

Sarah now stood and moved to side to allow Galen to approach. Galen had flame-red hair like Arianna, only she was much meatier in all respects—particularly in the bosom. She had arranged her robe somehow so that it hung from both shoulders but puckered in instead of flaring out, so that her large, pendulous breasts hung out in the open on either side of the fabric. In time her massive glands would sure sag towards the floor, but now in the flower of her youth they still pointed helpfully upwards and outwards. Eve removed a bottle of wine from her tray, and she then knelt before me. I grasped and squeezed her breasts eagerly, fascinated by their texture, as a child might run dig his fingers in wet sand—yet I would be hard pressed to say that I could contain even half of one's entirety in a single hand.

Even as I played with Galen's breasts as a child might play with a new toy, Helena was coming up the aisle. Helena was Galen's opposite in many ways. Galen had red hair and pale skin; Helena had dark hair and shaded skin. Galen was zaftig; Helena was slender. Even her dress was opposite; Galen wore her Roman attire so that her breasts spilled out to either side; Helena's was open down the center, framing her on either side but open in the middle to display all of her charms. As she neared I noted that she had even neatly depilated her nether regions in high Greco-Roman style. I was reluctant to let go of Galen's massive mammaries, but I also didn't want to slow the procession. I took a peek to my left and saw that Arla and Sarah both knelt at kneelers there; I felt assured I would have another chance to explore Galen's twin peaks.

Galen stood and moved out of the way so Helena could approach. Arianna removed Galen's tray whilst Eve moved the bottle of mead she carried from the tray to the table. Helena did not kneel, however. Rather, she stood over the pillow, straddling one foot to either side, parting her legs in an open-V formation as she stood. She seemed to be thrusting her pelvis out, and looked at me almost in defiance, daring me to touch her shaven crotch. I reached out with my finger and instantly felt the cleft there. Placing my ring and index fingers to either side, I stroked its length with my middle finger. Now Helena closed her eyes; the cleft quickly softened and in no time my finger was sliding deeper in.

Because Helena stood I did not see Julienne approach, so it caught me somewhat by surprise when she stepped back from my exploring hand, but her turn was done. I brought my damp finger to my nose and breathed in the scent from Helena's depths even as Julienne knelt before me. She had dark straight hair and pale skin; it was just one of many ways that she reminded me of Eve. But she did not wear a robe like the others; she wore a length of brown leather tied about her waist, reaching down to about mid-thigh at the left but sloping up to only a few inches thick at the right; I couldn't quite see the place where her legs met, but approached from the right side it would not have been difficult to find. She wore it with something like a vest made of the same material, but it only reached halfway down her ribs, leaving her midsection exposed, and the strings that run down it's length lay loose, untied. The result was something of a cat-and-mouse game with her breasts; the vest tried to fall closed, but the mounds underneath pushed it back open—and with her arms tied behind her back as the others had been, the forces pushing it open held the upper hand. Once Eve lifted the bottle of whisky from her tray, I thrust my hands into her vest and savored the warm breasts inside. I realized that while the others had dressed as Roman citizens, Julienne was dressed as a Roman slave. Perhaps playing the part, she cast her eyes down to the ground as I fondled her. How her mind felt about being where she was I could not say, but her nipples responded eagerly to the attention.

At last the soon-to-be inhabitant of the sixth kneeler appeared at the back of the hall—Maris, the first resident and leader of the "Wytches' Hotel." Maris wore slave irons as all the girls had, but her wrists were not tied behind her and no tray was suspended from her collar. Rather, she carried with both hands a burlap sack that appeared by the way she carried it to be heavy. Her long, golden hair flowed behind her, with a flower tucked in just above her left ear. She wore a corset that was tightly cinched around her ribs, pushing her breasts up and out for maximum effect, ending just above her navel. She also wore Roman-style sandals whose laces criss-crossed up her thighs almost up to her knees—and that was it. Her private regions were bare, and further her mons too was neatly depilated in Greco-Roman style.

Julienne silently moved to the side as Maris took the last few steps towards my throne. I watched her approach tenderly—I knew this escapade must have been primarily her brainchild. I saw the same sort of mischievousness in her eyes that I often caught in Eve, but I also saw a hint of a smile cross her face—she could tell that I was already quite appreciative of the party she had planned for me, and it had barely begun. When she reached the foot of the throne, she knelt on one knee, as a vassal, rather than two. "My Lord Prince Bonir," she began, "all of us that inhabit this hall owe our lives to your charity. We were all poor orphans, fleeing our homes and begging for your mercy. Every other lord in the kingdom had no time for the plight of inconsequential young girls as ourselves, but you heard and answered our pleas. In your wisdom, you not only saved us from the stake, you gave us a way to better ourselves." She reached out the burlap bag towards me. "We had an agreement that Your Grace would receive one-third of profits of our industry. Please accept your lordship's share from the last three months." She paused and waited for me to take the bag. It was heavy; I peeked inside and it was full of gold coins, well over 100 of them.

I looked back at Maris, which was the first time I saw that she carried something else; a small hourglass, the kind used in kitchens to time the boiling of eggs. "All of us owe you our very lives, You Grace," she continued, "and we all wish to thank you. We all wanted to return some token of thanks, but the only gift that Your Grace truly appreciates is one that is not easily given. Those you see before you have decided for themselves that they wished to give you that gift, the gift of themselves. Those were not comfortable have helped in other ways, such as preparing Your Grace's birthday feast. Although you see six before you, know that we represent all of the residents of the Abbey in giving you this gift."

Maris now stood, and gestured for me to follow as she walked towards Arla and the first of the row of kneelers. "We all with to please you, My Lord, but there is but one of you and six of us. We decided that we would serve Your Grace in the manner that you would have done yourself—we shall share you equally. You may choose whomever you like, and we shall turn over this hourglass while your choice does her best to please Your Grace. When the sand runs out of the hourglass, we hope that you give another of us the chance to show you our appreciation." She handed the hourglass off to Arianna, then brought her arms together behind her. With a click she bound her own wrists together just as the other girls already were, then headed over to occupy the last kneeler in the row.

I looked at the row of kneelers. Six pairs of eyes were fixed upon me, waiting to see what I would do, though not all were looking at my face. I noticed that, with their arms bound behind their backs, they tended to learn forward into the kneeler to maintain balance. For several of the girls, the net result was their lovely breasts rested on the armrests of the kneelers like they had been put on trays for display. I quickly scanned up and down the line at the spectacular display of feminine flesh, yet I hesitated. I had an open invitation to enjoy the sensual charms of all six of these fine women, but where to start? What was, or was not, acceptable to do?

Eve silently came up behind me. She gently loosened my tunic, releasing my throbbing manhood. "Why not just start at one end and work your way down?" she whispered, uncannily understanding my hesitation.

I looked at Arla as she knelt. She was watching my penis intently, then noticed I was looking at her and returned my gaze. And then, still maintaining eye contact, she slowly opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue, just as many a communicant had probably done upon that very kneeler—but it wasn't the Holy Host that she was jutting out her tongue to receive. I daresay it was the very sacreligiousness of it, her bare breasts resting on the armrest, her arms bound behind her, her mouth open to receive something very unsacramental, that stirred my loins so deeply. As if a spectator to myself; my penis seemingly took over control of the rest of my body; I found myself walking up to the kneeler, and watching as Arla stroked the underside of my penis with her tongue, then reaching forward as best she could provided it with a soft, warm home inside of her mouth.

Off to the side, Arianna flipped over the hourglass. I watched myself disappear between her lips while inside feelings of immense pleasure raced up my spine. And I soon realized that the kneeler was at an extremely convenient height; my at-rest arms ended inches away from her breasts. One breast was still covered, but with the loose fabric there was no hindrance to my slipping my hand underneath it to reach the breast. With literally no effort her nipples were between my fingers. As I kneaded them their inimitable texture added yet another source of pleasure. It just didn't get any better than this.