docsepsis's blog: "Sugar from the Right Side of my brain!!"

The castle was isolated from the rest of the world for at least six, sometimes as much as eight months out of the year. In winter, heavy snows sealed off the narrow mountain passes. In spring, the roads were either washed out or turned into knee deep pits of mud from the runoff of melting snow and ice. Although the mountains were their most beautiful during autumn, very few people ventured into them for fear of being caught unaware by an early blizzard. Throughout the year, in nearby villages and farms, other, darker reasons to avoid the castle were also whispered about, usually on stormy nights around the fireplace. Only in the summertime did visitors of any sort arrive at the castle, and over the years, especially following the death of the mistress of the castle, the number of visitors each year could generally be counted on one hand.

But every summer, for at least a month at a time, the three girls, Eva, Heather and Shelly, came to visit the lord of the castle, their uncle.

They usually arrived in late June or early July, to escape the heat and crowding in town. Sometimes their father would stay with them at the castle, visiting with his sister and brother-in-law for as long as a week at a time. But for the last several years, especially following the death of his sister, he would part within a day or two of leaving his daughters within the safekeeping of their uncle.

For the first nine to ten years of his life, the young boy who lived in the castle had thoroughly enjoyed these visits with his cousins. It was a special treat for him to have anyone to play with, even if they were girls and several years older than he. Certainly, there were some boys his own age in the nearby village. But those boy’s parents would never even consider allowing their sons to play with the boy who lived in the castle. He was never sure why. His father told him it was the low born peasants natural unwillingness to associate with their superiors, but on numerous occasions in town, the boy would overhear some of the strange and disturbing rumors the townsfolk would share about the castle, his home.

As he was entering into his teen years, however, the boy became increasingly uncomfortable associating with his three cousins. They, too, were maturing, and he couldn’t help but notice the changes in their figures, the swelling of their breasts, the gradual rounding of their hips, the delicate curves of their arms and legs. Dark-haired, long limbed Shelly, in particular, with deep brownish-green eyes like bronze and emeralds, and fashionably tanned skin, held his attention and thrilled him in strange, confusing ways. Red-haired Heather and the blond Eva had surprisingly darker skin than their sister, but they also made him extremely warm whenever either one of them would speak to him. The boy was confused by the odd, disturbing sensations the girls stirred within him and his interest in such games as hide and seek, waned with the passing of each summer. He felt increasingly uncomfortable even being around the cousins because so many times he caught himself staring at them, particularly Shelly and having secret thoughts and urges that he didn’t at all understand.

On numerous occasions, the boy had tried to talk with his father about his concerns, but his father kept such odd hours, rising just after sunset and going to bed just as dawn was approaching. But at night, when such an opportunity would present itself, the boy lost what courage had built up during the day. Embarrassed by the thoughts and feelings he experienced whenever he saw or even thought about his cousins. He kept everything to himself, bottled up tightly inside him, like wine. But this was a wine that was spoiling, rather than fermenting to a fine vintage as it aged.

One hot July night in his thirteenth year, he was finding it hard to sleep. The sounds of crickets and night birds in the nearby forest kept him awake long past midnight. Not even the slightest stirring of air moved through his opened window. The buzzing of a mosquito tormented him, making him swat blindly in the darkness and cursing as he missed. He sat there and measured the passing of time with deep and even breaths.

At some point, he wasn’t sure when, he became aware of another sound intruding upon the night. It fluttered lightly in the darkness, hissing like the soft whisper of the finest of silk. Once he became aware of it he realized it was the laugh of a girl…..or woman.

His mother had been dead for nearly eight years, and the few female servants employed at the castle had all gone back to their homes in the village for the night, so he deduced that the sounds must be caused by his cousins. Thinking about the girls instantly caused a cold, hard knot to tighten in his stomach, and his member hardened like a spike. Confused by his this tingling new sensation low in his belly, which he found occurring more and more frequently, he slipped one hand up underneath his sleeping gown and grasped himself, squeezing hard, hoping the pressure would make the throbbing ache disappear. It didn’t.

It only made it worse, pounding in time with the steadily increasing pace of his pulse. His ears were ringing with expectation as he arched his head forward and waited for the ripple of feminine laughter to come again. Almost against his will, his hand started moving up and down in tight, choking strokes. A quivering rush, like hot pins and needles, filled his lower belly. His head began to swim. Finally, unable to stand the pulsating sensation any longer, he swung his legs off of the bed, stood up, and began pacing back and forth across the cool stone floor.

After awhile, he began to doubt he heard the laughter at all, but then, like a bird song fluttering on the wind, it came again. In truth, it was barely audible, but it pierced his ears and drove into his brain like a lance. The sound teased and tempted him, exciting him so the stiffness in his groin ached even more painfully, painfully but pleasurably. He sucked in a deep breath and held it as he tiptoed to the door of his bedchamber, swung it open, and stepped out into the humid darkness of the castle corridor. In spite of the hot night air, a shiver tickled between his shoulder blades. Without a candle to light his way he was temporarily confused, but his feet, as if they had a will of their own, started him down to the far end of the corridor toward the chamber door behind which, he knew, his cousins slept. But they weren’t sleeping now.

When he was halfway to the door, he heard a hissing rustle of sheets, the ripple of laughter came again. This time followed by a deep groaning that made the boy wonder if one of the girls had eaten something bad, and was suffering from a stomach ache. The darkness of the corridor enfolded him like soft, heavy arms, giving him a slight measure of security as he pressed his ear to the door and tried to determine exactly what was going on in there. No words had been spoken, but the laughter and low throated moaning continued, rising louder, like a distant, gathering storm.

Somehow miraculously the boy kept himself from crying out when the door, apparently unlatched, swung open a bit under the pressure of him leaning against it. He jerked back, afraid that the subtle shifting of the door might have alerted his cousins that there was someone in their doorway, but the laughter and other sounds continued. Sweat stood out like morning dew on the boy’s forehead, and his throat was raw with tension as he took another deep breath and held it. He was still fearful of being discovered, yet he was also consumed with curiosity to discover what was going on inside that room. He had to know!

After several pounding heartbeats, and once his eyesight had adjusted to the faint glow of light, he dared to bring his eye back to the slitted opening of the door. A single candle burned on the night stand, casting the room in an orange glow. At first, all he saw was the corner of the large bed which his cousins shared during their stay. But by placing his fingertips against the rough wooden door and pressing against ever so slightly, he opened it just enough to be able to peer further into the room.

The sight made his heart stop cold, like a dead thing in the center of his chest. His member was still throbbing painfully, raising its head like a proud warrior, thrusting against the restraints of his sleep gown. One hand shifted down to his crotch and grasped the bulge tightly. Two of the cousins, he saw, Heather and Eva, were stark naked and crouching on their hands and knees outside of their bed covers. The third cousin, Shelly, was also lying outside of the covers on her back. She was naked except for a sash of white cloth that was wrapped around her waist and draped down to mid thigh. Her long, dark hair spilled across the white pillow like a splash of chocolate silk. Heather and Eva were running their hands all over their sister’s body. All of them were writhing in slow, undulating rhythms. Almost like a single beast, with three heads, six arms, and six legs. Shelly's soft skin glowed like wet sand on the beach at dawn, as her sister’s hands and mouths kneaded and caressed her thighs, breasts, shoulders, face and neck.

A hot rush of blood filled the boy’s head making him slightly dizzy. He continued to rub himself, keeping in time with the twisting undulations of the young girls. The boy longed to join them, but he felt safer, staying hidden in the darkness of the corridor and watching them at play.

With a high pitched laughter, Heather tugged at the white cloth that was wrapped around Shelly’s waist.

“Come on, darling,” she said in a low, teasing voice. “Don’t be shy, now. You must let your sisters see your precious treasure.

In an instant, Eva also grabbed at the cloth and started tugging at it, all the while laughing. “Yes…please, Shell,” she said with a slight lilt to her voice. “You must let us play with your toy too.”

“No! No! Please, not tonight!” Shelly cried out.

She twisted away from her sisters embraces and sat up in bed. Her eyes looked shocked, but her voice sounded without alarm. There was an excited edge to it, and the boy sensed that Shelly didn’t mean what she had said. No, not at all. He watched in fascination as the sisters pressed Shelly down into the sheets and grabbing the white cloth, and flinging it away. Heather’s hands engulfed her sister’s breasts as she held Shelly down on the bed while Eva took her sister’s legs and pulled them wide apart. All three of them were laughing now, but the sound was broken by deeper moans and sighs that seemed to come from the darkness surrounding them.

The boy felt equally repulsed and intrigued by what he saw. A wide swath of fresh blood smeared the inside of Shelly’s thighs, glistening a dark, oily red inside the thin whisps of dark hair at the joining of her legs. He watched in amazement, unable to even to take a breath as Heather and Eva both leaned forward and begin to kiss and lick the blood from inside their sister’s glazed thighs. He was motionless except for his hand, which continued to pump and down beneath his night clothes. When his groin flooded with a hot, tingling rush, he was suddenly fearful that if he continued to rub himself, something horrible might happen. But he couldn’t stop himself. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the entwined bodies and scarlet smears of fresh blood shimmering against Shelly’s skin

Suddenly his awareness was swept away by a dizzying rush as something hot, wet, and sticky shot out from inside his cupped hand. Moaning aloud, he leaned forward to catch his balance and advertently banged his head against the partially opened door. He was reeling with such a sensation, that he only experienced a small sense of alarm when he heard all three of his cousin’s squeal in surprise. He vaguely sensed that they had all turned and were staring at him. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from the streaks of blood that smeared Heather and Eva’s mouths.

“Well now, sisters,” Heather said in a low, throaty growl. She wiped the blood from her mouth with the back of her hand. “We seem to have ourselves a little audience tonight.”

“Yes, a little peeping tom has crawled out of the walls to watch us play,” said Eva.

The boy could hardly stand, much less move. He looked down at his hand, still reached up under his clothes. The white cloth was saturated with a thick, clammy fluid. He looked back at his cousins and watched in utter silence as Heather rose from the bed, her arms extended toward him.

She moved so quickly to the door and pulled it all the way open so fast, that he staggered into the room. His brain seemed to have shut off, as he allowed Heather to take him by the hand and lead him to the bed. He moved on legs that were stiff as stilts. He cried out, but the sound was lost between another chorus of laughter, as she pushed him roughly forward, and he flopped face first onto the bed, landing between Shelly and Eva. In the next instant, Heather rolled him over onto his back and leaped on top of him. He was lost in the pillowy white softness of sheets, pillows and skin, as hands tugged at his gown, pinched his cheeks, clawed at his neck, chest, and stomach and much lower.

Within seconds, his night clothes had been torn to shreds, and his slim, slightly muscled body lay exposed, to the probing touches of cool fingertips and hot tongues.

“I say he has to pay a penalty,” one of his cousins said teasingly.

“Yes, he must pay dearly for spying on us.”

“Oh, yes,” said a third, more commanding voice. “A very severe penalty.”

The boy was lost in confusion. He could no longer distinguish the girl’s voices. They all blended into a chorus of birdlike laughter. And the words became muffled in the whooshing sound of the sheets flowing over his head.

“Better yet, we should force him to play with us.”

“Yes, yes! He has to play our game too!”

“No, I….I don’t like that idea,” said the more commanding voice.” I’m still embarrassed that he saw me like…like this, suffering as I am, under the woman’s curse.”

“Oh my dear Shell, it’s no curse.”

“No, not at all. Why it’s a blessing!”

“And if he’s so interested in watching us play, perhaps just like when we were children, he still wants to play with us.”

“Yes, perhaps we should invite him to share in your blessing, Shelly dearest and let him drink at your darling fountain too.”

The boy was lost in such a dizzying spiral of confusion that he thought he must be dreaming as hands and knees prodded at him, turning him over and over in the soft whispering bed sheets. The moist cushions of lips and breasts pressed and rubbed against his face, his stomach, his back, and his groin. As flexing fingers grabbed his male member, he felt it begin to stiffen again, pulsating with a strange, urgent heat. Then some one grabbed the back of his head and pushed his face down against the soft, yielding flesh of Shelly’s belly. His nose was squashed flat, making it difficult for him to breathe as the two other girls forced his head down….down. Not quite against his will, he found himself kissing a wet line along Shelly’s tanned skin until he was lapping at the sweet, saltiness in the cleft of Shelly’s thighs. A damp, musky taste tinged with the coppery sting of fresh blood filled his mouth making his head spin.

His male member was now stiff and insistent as his face was forced deeper into Shelly’s downy gash. He cried out in pain as one of the sisters grabbed his maleness and pulled on it hard.

“Perhaps this will get in the way of all of our fun,” a voice said.

“Yes, what shall we do about it?” another stated.

“I know what to do,” Shelly cried out, her voice restrained with passion.

She suddenly shifted around, pushing the boy’s head away from her crotch. Then she rolled him over onto his back and straddled him. She moved her face forward as if to kiss him, but her soft lips only brushed lightly over his blood smeared mouth before pressing against his neck. Her lingering kiss burned below his left ear, as the heated moistness of her tongue lapped at the vein that throbbed beneath his skin. The boy was swept up in such euphoria of seduction; that he didn’t notice Shelly’s lips as they tracked down his chest and stomach until, at last, her mouth came to rest upon his throbbing member. Moaning softly, she licked him several times, then opened her mouth wide to engulf him and started sucking on him. At first she sucked gently, but then her teeth started to nibble at him, hard enough to be hurtful. But, even that pain was exquisite, making him nearly delirious. Then Shelly’s gentle kisses were interrupted by a cold, sharp sting, like the slice of a dagger as her teeth bit at the base of his member. He was too lost in the mind numbing swirl of pleasure to care or worry about what she was doing to him.

“No, Shell! Don’t!” one of the girls suddenly shouted.

The boy detected a slight panic in her voice, and he sensed a flurry of movement as the violent sucking and nibbling abruptly ceased. As he struggled to sit up in bed, his vision cleared slightly, and he let out a shout of fright when he saw Shelly. Shelly was crouching on the edge of the bed, glaring at him like a cornered animal. Her eyes, wild, glistening with raging lust. Her lips were peeled back, exposing two sharp, curved teeth that stuck out like wolf’s fangs. A bright trickle of blood ran from her lower lip, which was trembling with anticipation. She stuck out her tongue and circled her lips, smearing the blood. Nearly numb with horror, the boy reached down to his crotch and felt the slick flow of blood on his skin.

“Please, Shell! You can’t do that!” Eva yelled.

“It’s not time yet!” shrieked Heather. “He’s not ready to become completely ours!” “No, not yet!”

The bite on the boy’s groin throbbed painfully with burning surges as the hot trickle of blood ran down between his legs. He was almost blinded by the hypnotic whirlwind inside his head as his hands reached out and roughly pushed himself from the softness of his cousin’s bed. As he scrambled to his feet, a bundle of shredded clothing shot from out of nowhere and hit him, as solid as an expertly thrown punch, full in the face. He heard a deep sobbing and was surprised to realize that the sound was coming from himself.

“Go!”

“Get out of here!”

“Leave us!”

“Leave us now!”

Shivering naked, and stinging with embarrassment and pain, he covered his wounded groin with the remnants of his torn nightshirt, and started backing away from the bed. He felt blindly behind himself with one hand until he came to the door. Then, he turned and ran into the corridor, swinging his arms wildly at the darkness, as if he could somehow tear it apart.

Suddenly he found himself in his own room. He hurried to the light of the candle on his nightstand. The glow of light hurt his eyes, but he leaned forward and stared in horror at his face.

He was shocked by what he saw, yet also strangely thrilled at the sight of the clotted blood that smeared his chin and lips. The stain looked like a fiery, dark beard. Tears streaming from his eyes blurred his vision as he leaned over the washbasin and splashed his face with water. All the while, his thin shoulders shook with unrepressed sobs.

In the flickering orange glow of the single candle, his reflected features seemed oddly distorted, and for a dizzying instant, he had the sensation of standing outside of himself. In the oval mirror, he saw, not his boyish face staring back at him, but the face of a much older man. The man stared back at him blankly, his eyes both black, swelling pools. Long, curved teeth pressed down against his lower lip, and when his reflection smiled, an ink dark flood of blood ran from his mouth and down his chin, staining his chest.

For what seemed like an eternity, the boy stood there, fixated by his own hypnotic stare. He wanted to cry out, but the instant his lips parted, another gush of blood flowed in twin dark red streams from the down turned corners of his mouth. A tingling rush of elation battled the surges of repulsion that swept through him. He was ashamed and thrilled by what he had done, by what his cousins had made him do. Against his conscious will, his member began to stiffen again, and he closed his eyes in pleasure as he began to stroke and caress himself lightly.

Uttering a low cry, he suddenly shook his head and tore his gaze away from the face reflected in the mirror. Still trembling, he scooped up a handful of water and carefully dribbled it over his crotch. Taking a clean cloth, he daubed gently at the still bleeding tooth marks on the flesh of his member. The pain was burning and strong, pulsing through him in hot rushes. He couldn’t deny or pretend not to know what Shelly was about to do to him, but what sickened and thrilled him most on a deeper level was the sudden certainty that, were she here right now, in his bedroom, he would willingly allow her to do what she intended, if only for the blinding instant of pure pleasure that pain would give him.

Once the bleeding had stopped, he put on a clean nightgown, blew out the candle, and threw himself onto his bed, curling up into a tight ball beneath the covers. As the glow of the moonlight slid silently across his floor, he lay there, clutching his bedcovers close to his chin, shaking and sweating as though suffering from a fever.

He sought escape from his pain, panic, and confusion in sleep, but sleep didn’t come for many hours, not until the first traces of morning light edged the eastern sky with gray. At last, once he had finally drifted into a fitful sleep, that sleep was haunted by twisted dreams of the pleasure and torment his cousins might have given him, and his own uncontrollable urge to taste once again, the intoxicating coppery sting of blood as it coursed down his throat.