King of the Castle - we want a party in a castle.

King of the Castle

Copyright Oggbashan September 2016

The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons. This is a Halloween fantasy with femdom.

Ruritania is the fictional country of Anthony Hope’s novels The Prisoner of Zenda and Rupert of Hentzau. I have used the name Ruritania for this story but any resemblance between my 21st Century Ruritania and Anthony Hope’s is accidental. I have used only the name instead of inventing an Eastern European state.

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It was a last minute decision. It seemed such a good idea back in England. We wanted a venue for a Halloween Party and a genuine castle seemed the ideal location. All we had to do was get there. The cost of accommodation and food would be provided by my father. Normally the castle would be full for Halloween but there had been a group cancellation because of unrest in that country. The staff and everything had been arranged for the group. We could take over what had been already planned if we could get flights there in the next 48 hours.

My grandfather Alfred had owned the castle in what had been an East European Communist state. I’ll call it Ruritania, not its name.

Madeleine and I had been having a mild disagreement about our wedding. We wanted a quiet simple affair but we were under pressure, not from our parents but from the wider family, for a big event. I was inclined to humour the relations. The cost wasn’t a problem because both sets of parents could afford to pay. Madeleine just didn’t want the hassle of organising a big event. She and I are rather quiet people who prefer the company of a few friends instead of attending large events. We thought a week away, particularly away from the relations, would give us time to sort out what WE wanted.

There was another problem. There was some unrest in Ruritania. I did some research on the internet. There was a movement for a revolution to overthrow the current democratic government. The movement’s leaders were using the Big Lie technique making statements about what the government was and had been doing that were obviously untrue. Some of the more outrageous claims had been mentioned on Snopes. From the UK the revolutionary movement seemed ridiculous and obviously intended to enrich the leaders and foreign investors who were barred from owning too many assets in Ruritania. As the castle was in a remote area and easily defended against a rioting mob I thought we would be very safe.

+++

Back in the 1960s Ruritania’s communist government didn’t have enough money to preserve or restore ancient monuments. Such money as they had for heritage they used in their cities and towns. My grandfather owned a toy factory in the English Midlands and frequently visited the Nuremberg Toy Fair to exhibit his company’s products and to see what others were selling.

There was a small exhibit of handmade wooden toys from Ruritania. Alfred liked the quirkiness and the quality of the workmanship. He bought a few samples back to England but it was too expensive to replicate them in his factory. Over the next few years he visited Ruritania and bought the toys in quantity selling them through his marketing outlets. Eventually he invested in Ruritania, building a factory and employing locals. By the 1960s he was well respected in Ruritania and had contacts in the government.

When they decided to ask foreign investors to take over some of their heritage places, Alfred was one of the first they approached. Their idea was that the foreigner would be offered a building at a nominal sum but they would have to conserve and restore it using local labour. Alfred was using local labour extensively and because he paid in hard currency he could pick and choose the best workmen.

His first purchase was the castle. It was in a remote area guarding a mountain pass. The castle was fairly small and in a reasonable condition. The only problem was that it was too far from any major roads. Materials for repair would have to be found locally, but those materials were the ones that had been used when the castle was originally built. He paid the local equivalent of one US dollar for the castle and its estate but spent fifty thousand US dollars on it over the next decade.

When finished in the late 1970s the exterior had been restored to the state it had been in the 14th Century. The main rooms were equally antique but the kitchens, bedrooms and bathrooms were modern. He had repaired and widened the road from the nearest town to the castle so that trucks could bring in bathroom fittings. They had to be ********** across the drawbridge and through the defended gateway because no vehicle could enter the castle. The storerooms and dungeons underground housed a collection of genuine and newly manufactured instruments of torture as a museum display.

Alfred’s castle became a showpiece for other foreigners to demonstrate what could be done with Ruritania’s neglected heritage. He had to create a car and coach park in the outer bailey to accommodate visitors from Western Europe and beyond.

The staff were all locals from the mountain villages, a few living at the castle but most coming in to produce banquets and when there were foreign guests.

Eventually Ruritania overthrew its Communist government and started on the way to becoming a genuinely democratic state. My grandfather handed over responsibility for Ruritania to my father John. Alfred was unpopular there because of his work with the former regime. John wasn’t compromised by past associations.

Eventually John had taken over the whole family toy business, the factories in England and Ruritania, and the restored castle. At first he used the castle for conferences, product launches and family holidays. He improved the road access and added a helicopter landing pad in the outer bailey.

Part of the castle became a small gothic-themed hotel but with very modern facilities. The main rooms were still as Alfred had left them but discreetly improved with electric lighting and Wi-Fi. The castle was well used in the summer months and for winter sports. The staff organised events for Valentine’s Day, Halloween, Christmas and New Year to extend the season. They did weddings as well but they weren’t as popular as the seasonal events. The castle wasn’t large enough for a big wedding party.

The staff organised a discreet sideline in sex parties. People who liked BDSM found a genuine castle with real dungeons and real torture equipment to be a wonderful venue for a weekend or even longer of playing around. It was used by many people making erotic bondage videos for the internet. All the bedrooms had unusual accessories such as anchorage points built into every bed and a wardrobe of fetish equipment.

We were six of us going to the castle. I’m Stephen Owen. The others were my fiancée Madeleine, her younger sister Angela, Madeleine’s best friend and intended matron of honour Helen, Gary, who is Angela’s boyfriend and James, Helen’s husband. For James and Helen it was almost like a delayed honeymoon. They had married in August but been back at work the Monday after their Saturday wedding.

Before booking we had to decide what we wanted. Because it was the start of Helen’s honeymoon we let her have the last word. She chose mild femdom BDSM. The castle’s staff could provide specialist BDSM scenarios to fit with the guests’ requests. Mild femdom BDSM was one of the easier versions. I and Gary hoped we would see more of our girlfriends in action. We knew that Helen already practised mild BDSM with her husband James.

I had to inform the castle’s staff of our clothing sizes. I had intended to ask Gary and James to give me the women’s sizes. Madeleine stopped me. She pointed out that some of her sex play clothes were charity shop purchases with old system labels. If we wanted accurate sizes she would get them. She helped compose the email giving the clothing information. I was surprised that it took three attempts before the email reached the castle. Usually it had been instantaneous.

I had been to Ruritania several times with my parents but never on my own. I had been too busy at University and in my vacations I had wanted to go for sun and sand with my friends. I needed to know more about the country because eventually I would inherit the family business. While my friends would be enjoying themselves, I had another task. I had to find out from Jakob, our local manager, what impact Ruritania’s current unrest might have on our company. He had given hints but he and we knew that communication was monitored. The new government had inherited some of the secret service tactics of the old one.

We were travelling with very little luggage. All the clothes we would need were underwear. At the castle we would be wearing costumes supplied for us using the size information Madeleine and I had given.

All of us were expecting to use some of the castle’s BDSM equipment for mild bondage and sexual games as couples. We had discussed it among ourselves. We had agreed that as well as a Halloween party we would experiment with variations of consensual bondage. The women seemed more excited by the idea than the men. I knew the men would be the victims more often than the women, or possibly only the men would be the ones experiencing bondage.

I explained that although the staff might demonstrate the equipment, and for a fee pose for photographs with their faces masked the rules were ‘Look, take pictures, but don’t touch!’.

Our flight landed shortly after ten am. Jakob met us at the airport with a people carrier driven by his chauffeur Gregori. As Gregori was loading my friends and the suitcases Jakob beckoned me aside.

“Stephen, I’d like to show you the improvements to the battlements when we get there.”

I nodded. I knew what he meant. We needed to talk in private and the people carrier might be bugged. On the battlements of the castle as we walk around it would be impossible for all our conversation to be monitored particularly if we were close to the ravine and noisy waterfall.

The castle is a hundred miles from the airport through increasingly rugged scenery. Jakob and Gregori gave a tourist style commentary for my friends pointing out local sights on the way including the chateau that my grandfather had restored before selling it back to the government. The last ten miles of road produced some squeals from the women. It loops around mountains with steep drops and no guard rails. Gary and James tried to look unconcerned but they were holding on to some of the vehicle’s fittings.

The final approach to the castle is dramatic. We came around a bend to see the castle across the valley. We descended to an ancient looking stone bridge actually built by my grandfather Alfred in the 1960s to replace the rope foot bridge. As we approached there were several men dressed as hunters in camouflage clothing and carrying slung rifles. They had recognised the people carrier. Why not? It has the company’s logo on all four sides. They waved at us as we crossed the bridge.

We climbed up and up until we drove through the widened gap in the outer bailey. The gatehouse had fallen down in the 19th Century. Alfred had replaced the rotten wooden drawbridge with a steel girder bridge that could take a fifty ton load. Where the gatehouse had been he had built a modern replica but with a much wider opening. The gates were hydraulically operated and usually left open. Where he got them from I don’t know but underneath the apparently ancient oak they were armoured and weighed several tons each. They might stop a battle tank. Or they might not. Did it matter? Getting a battle tank along the roads to reach the castle was probably impossible.

The castle had been almost impregnable in the 14th Century. As restored it would be difficult to attack even in the 21st Century if there were armed defenders. Unless the attackers used airpower and/or very heavy artillery they wouldn’t get in. But who would want to attack it and why? It is a hotel not a military base. One of the reasons the original castle had survived in a restorable condition was that it had never been attacked. It had been built to defend a mountain pass that was closed by a major landslide even before the castle had been completed. It was protecting a route to nowhere.

Sarah, the castle’s Manager and Housekeeper met us in the car park. She had driven the propane-powered buggy down from the inner bailey. She and Gregori loaded our luggage on it. We followed as the buggy climbed the steep and twisting slope to the inner gatehouse. At the entrance to the keep the maids were lined up. They were all wearing their basic dark blue uniforms with white headscarves. Apart from Petra I didn’t recognise any of them. I wasn’t surprised. The local women rotate as maids at the castle. What did puzzle me was the lack of men. I looked at Sarah.

“Sorry, Stephen,” she said in the local language. “All the men are away at the harvest.”

Sarah seemed unusually subdued. Normally she is a bright and bouncy middle-aged lady. I have known her almost all my life since I first came to the castle as a toddler. She is far more sophisticated than most of the staff because of her constant interaction with our family and the foreign visitors. But there were more than enough maids to look after the six of us. Sarah organised the maids to take the luggage and each guest to the appropriate bedroom, telling us, in English, to meet in the Great Hall in twenty minutes. I took the opportunity to go with Jakob to the battlements.

“Well, Jacob?” I asked as we stood overlooking the ravine and the waterfall. “Why the secrecy?”

“I’m not sure it’s necessary, Stephen,” he replied, “but it is better to be safe. Now we are here you are probably OK but in the capital there is trouble. There might even be a revolution because the people, or some of them, are very angry that the same people are running the country as ran it as Communists. They say they might be sons of the fathers but the clique is the same and they are throwing opposition leaders into jail. There should be an election next month but if the opposition have been jailed as so-called traitors it is claimed it will be a rigged election. There haven’t been riots yet but...”

“There might be?”

“Yes. When Gregori and I leave I have asked Sarah to ensure the outer gates are closed. It’s not good that the men are away when the country is facing trouble. They and the local villagers could defend the castle against mob v******e, unlikely as that might be.”

“Mob v******e? Here? Why?”

“Your grandfather was seen as a supporter of the old government. He, your father, and now you are possibly identified as part of the clique running the country.”

“That’s ridiculous, Jakob!”

“I know but some of the accusations being thrown around are lies. But lies can generate v******e. Those behind the unrest are...”

The names he mentioned were very familiar to me and had featured in my recent researches. If anyone were former Communist rulers it was them. They were people who notionally owned large parts of the capital but were actually working i*****lly with foreign investors.

“They claim that the current government has sold national assets to foreigners...”

“You and I know that is a lie, Jakob,” I said.

“You know that. I know that. The people don’t and are being persuaded that it is true. I wish you hadn’t come – now. I tried to warn your father but I couldn’t be explicit. As manager of your business in Ruritania I am watched very carefully and I suspect all my internet links are compromised. I hope I’m wrong and you can have an enjoyable week here. I’ll collect you on Monday next week, but until then try to keep everyone inside the castle and preferably get the men back inside too. If the shit hits the fan you could have to bring the villagers into the castle. They at least know how much your family has done for them.”

“And my grandfather only worked with the old government because he had to.”

“I know, Stephen, but people aren’t thinking straight. Gregori and I have to get back to the capital. We have organised watchmen to warn if there is any attack on the factories. It should be unlikely but if there is the workers will try to stop any damage being done. After all, they need the work and the pay. If the factories are wrecked we’ll all be out of work. I’ll leave in a few minutes. Enjoy yourselves while you’re here but be careful, please.”

“I will, Jakob, and thank you. I’ll tell my friends to stay inside the castle grounds.”

“If Sarah has shut the outer bailey gates they won’t be able to leave anyway. I’ll make sure she does.”

We went back to the Great Hall. There was a buffet set out for us. Sarah was already talking to my friends. Petra was standing beside Sarah.

“I’m sorry,” Sarah was saying, “the castle’s Wi-Fi is temporarily out of action. Someone is coming to fix it in a couple of days but your phones won’t work and we can’t have television...”

Jakob interrupted her. I heard him tell her to shut the outer bailey’s gates. She nodded.

I spoke to my friends.

“While we are here I’m sorry to say that we should not leave the castle grounds. It’s the hunting season and some of our local hunters aren’t very competent. They might shoot at anything that moves, including us. Later on, perhaps when the local men return, we might be able to organise some e*****ed outings but until then, please do not try to leave the castle.”

“Are we prisoners?” Madeleine asked me. She wasn’t serious.

“Of course not,” I answered. “This was my family’s castle. You are guests here. I would prefer my guests to remain uninjured.”

“What about the troubles that caused the other group to cancel?” Angela asked.

“There is an election coming soon and people in the capital are overexcited,” I replied. “We are a long way from the capital and surrounded by friends. If we had television we might see demonstrations in the streets of the capital, or perhaps not. The local media isn’t wholly free. They only show what the government wants the people to see unless the people have satellite TV and internet so that censorship is fairly ineffective.”

“But we haven’t got TV or internet,” Gary objected.

“Temporarily,” I answered. “It should be fixed soon but it takes time to get expert technicians to come this far from civilisation. Even a simple repair means a whole lost day for them.”

That seemed to reassure everybody as they set to eating the buffet.

Sarah announced that the evening meal would be at eight o’clock followed by a demonstration of a new device and a ghost story by firelight. I said that this afternoon I would give a tour of the outer castle, including if anyone wanted to do it, the wall walk around the outer bailey. Helen was dubious. She doesn’t like heights but James told her he would hold on to her. He already was. They were behaving like newly-weds.

Madeleine pulled me aside.

“What was all that crap about the hunting season, Stephen? The locals hunt all year round and we’ve never had any problem before.”

“It was bullshit, Madeleine, but please don’t tell the others,” I said. “Jakob has told me that Ruritania has real problems now. It shouldn’t affect us here but he’s worried. So is Sarah. You might have noticed she’s not her usual self. And the men being absent? Harvesting? In late October? That’s unlikely. Something is going on and I don’t know what. We should be safe. We’re in a castle but I would be happier if the men were here too. Apart from me and the women, none of us know how to use a gun.”

“Gun? Is it that bad, Stephen?”

“It could be. I just don’t know. I’ll try to find out if I can but the castle gates are shut. Getting in would be difficult if any group wanted to attack us. I’d be less worried if we had at least some guards on the walls. There’s no one outside the main keep. The rest of the castle seems deserted. That’s very unusual. Normally the buildings in the outer bailey would be full of local craftsmen such as the blacksmith and farrier.”

As I led my friends on a tour of the castle I became even more concerned. I couldn’t see any activity in or around the castle. The village is over a mile away but clearly visible. I saw no people, no a****ls and no smoke from the chimneys. It seemed deserted too.

When we returned to the Great Hall the maids were setting up for the evening dinner. Sarah suggested that we might want to dress for the first night dinner. It would have a medieval theme so we should be Lords and Ladies. Suitable clothing was laid out in our rooms and maids were available to help the women dress. The men could ask for help if they needed it. Gary and James did need help. I heard laughter and female giggling from their rooms.

When the three women emerged they were wearing flowing gowns with a long belt slung around their hips. The belts hung almost to the floor down the front of the gowns. But that’s not what we looked at first. Their breasts were straining the bodices and in danger of spilling out. How the effect had been achieved I didn’t know but all three seemed much more endowed up top than we had ever seen.

We men were wearing opaque hose with tunics falling to about six inches above our knees. We too had belts wound three times around our waists and daggers slung from them. The daggers were ornamental. Each hilt and sheath was in a continuous piece but they looked good.

The maids were dressed as serving wenches. They too were showing more breast than I had ever seen them display before. They were wearing red headscarves almost as caps and had more scarves tucked into their belts. Sarah and Petra were standing by the door from the kitchen directing the other maids. I thought there were too many maids to serve six of us. There were two or more maids for each visitor.

The meal was as great as previous meals I had remembered at the castle. Our wine glasses were topped up throughout the meal. By the end all six of us were bloated with good food and slightly drunk. Petra suggested we might need to freshen up before the demonstration. We did. I splashed some cold water on my face afterwards before drying myself. As I returned to the Great Hall I saw Sarah leaving through the kitchen door with two of the maids. Was it my imagination or were they pulling her through?

Matryoshka

There was an unusual addition to the Great Hall since my last visit. Standing to one side of the main fireplace was a tall figure like a massive Russian doll of a peasant woman. I walked up to it. Like the nesting dolls it seemed to part in the middle. Petra saw me looking at it.

“Stephen,” she said, “that’s a new toy. We received it a week ago but haven’t tried it yet. Would you like to be the first user?”

I knew this was a set-up for the demonstration. It is probably a bondage device and Petra would prefer me to be the subject. I speak the local language and can object if things go too far. Madeleine has helped me with this account of my experience because she could see things I couldn’t.

“Yes, Petra. I’ll have a go. What do I have to do?”

“I’ll need Madeleine’s help.”

I looked at Madeleine. She nodded.

“Please stand where those feet are painted on the floor,” Petra said.

The outlines of two feet were painted inside some concentric wooden hoops fixed to the floor. I stood with my feet on the marks.

“This is the traditional five stage Matryoshka,” Petra said. “The inside part is in one piece. Madeleine?”

Madeleine came forward. Petra opened a chest standing beside the doll. She pulled out a mass of material and put a couple of pieces on a chair.

“This goes over your head, Stephen.”

She and Madeleine lifted the material. It was a massive dress that they pulled over me and downwards. My head entered a hood. I had seen that the front was painted like the simpering smile of a Russian doll. To my surprise I could see through it clearly although the painting appeared opaque from outside. The inner lining of the dress stretched over me, lightly constricting my arms at my sides. The outside was much wider. It seemed to be held out with something like bubble wrap.

“You need the traditional accessories,” Petra said. “the apron...”

She tied a flowery apron around the middle of the dress. It barely dented the padding.

“And the head scarf.”

The head scarf was large. She and Madeleine folded it into a triangle, placed it on my head and crossed the ends under my chin before tying it at the back of my head. The back of the triangle covered the ****. The scarf had pulled the hood into a head shape. My vision was slightly restricted to the sides by the edges of the scarf and the hood was tighter across my face. Even so I could see and breathe.

“These dolls taper at the bottom.”

Petra knelt down to pull on a draw cord that restricted the bottom hem of the dress. If I had wanted to I could now barely move my feet. The padding inside the dress was pressed against my legs from ankles upwards. Maureen told me that I was the traditional Matryoshka doll shape, wide around the waist and curving inwards to the base. It could have been anyone inside, male or female. I was an anonymous doll.

“Stephen is now the first and inner doll,” Petra announced. “Madeleine? Can you help me with the rest, please?”

I could see them lift off the rigid top of the large doll. They put it down before lifting the lower section. They had to repeat that three more times until they had a row of four top halves and four lower halves all brightly decorated as Russian peasant women. Petra and Madeleine lifted the smallest lower section, tilted it, and gently slid it down over me to the floor. It clicked into place on the inner wooden hoop. It had slightly dented the dress and restricted my legs and my lower arms.

Two of the other local women brought a couple of step stools for Petra and Madeleine to use as they lowered the upper section. It fitted to the lower section perfectly. My vision was slightly blurred by two layers of paint but my arms were now squashed against my sides.

The two of them repeated the process for the next layer of doll which was slightly larger. The lower section clamped to the hoop. The upper section was a push fit onto the lower.

By the time the lower part of fifth and last layer of doll was secured to the floor all I could see were the shapes of Petra and Madeleine moving around. As they lowered the top section over me it was obvious that it was totally opaque. I was plunged into complete darkness. All I heard was the sound of the two sections nesting together followed by four loud clicks. Maureen later told me that they were metal clamps that held the upper body of the doll to the lower body.

“Now Stephen is a Matryoshka,” Petra announced, “If he wants to stop being a Matryoshka? He can’t. He is imprisoned inside five layers of peasant doll. He can hear us. He can speak. He can’t see and he can barely move. He can’t move the dolls. They are clamped to the floor. He can’t lift the upper sections off. The inner ones are just pushed together but the friction of three layers would be too much even if the innermost dress gave him enough freedom. It doesn’t. Even if it did? The outer sections are clamped together. Stephen is stuck inside until we release him.”

“Stephen, can you hear me?” Madeleine asked.

“Yes, Madeleine, I can. Can you hear me?” I replied.

“You’re fairly faint, Stephen, but I heard that. Is Petra right? Can you move?”

“No Madeleine. I can’t. I can wiggle my fingers and toes. That’s about it. I can turn my head...”

I tried.

“An inch or two. That’s all I can do.”

“Do you want to come out?”

“Yes, please.”

It took Petra and Madeleine a quarter of an hour to get me out of the nesting Matryoshka dolls. I sat down on one of the step stools.

“That’s evil, Petra,” I said. “and could be boring if anyone is left inside too long.”

“That was just the experimental version,” Petra replied. “Now we know it works the next one will be for a couple, preferably naked and facing each other. They’ll have a bit more room to move, not much, but enough for them to play with each other until they are let out. But the idea needs work. A larger one would have to be lighter or else too many people would be needed to put it together.”

“It was reasonable with two of us,” Madeleine said, “but if the sections had been larger we would have needed four. It’s not just the weight, it’s the bulk of the outer sections.”

“The Matryoshka was made to illustrate one of the ghost stories about this castle,” Petra said. “If you will sit facing the fire, we’ll turn the lights down and Katya will tell the story. Anyone want drinks first?”

Some of us did. We pulled some settees into a semicircle facing the fire. Katya stood to one side of the fire beside the reassembled Matryoshka.

“A long time ago,” Katya started, “a Count Edwin owned this castle. He was married to Maria, a rather foolish woman. Maria didn’t act as the Count expected her to do. She had been spoilt as a c***d, and although of a noble family, she hadn’t been taught how to run a household and certainly not a castle. She loved new clothes and spent too much money on them employing three seamstresses and two ladies’ maids to dress her and keep her supplied with gowns. Edwin loved her. She was very beautiful and delightful company. She was a large and well developed lady. At the time larger women were considered very attractive but that meant each of her gowns took a lot of expensive materials to make. Perhaps he shouldn’t have married Maria just because he loved her but she was noble as well as beautiful.

Maria didn’t supervise the servants properly. She didn’t discuss meals with the cook. The housekeeper was old and should have been retired but Maria didn’t care. Maria’s personal servants gave themselves airs above their station and could be rude to everyone else, servants or not. When Maria became bored with a gown she would pass it on to her seamstresses or maids, not to be reused or remade but for the servants to wear. Visitors couldn’t tell Maria’s servants from members of the nobility because they were so well dressed.

Edwin became very annoyed with his wife Maria. Her worst offence happened when the Count’s overlord came to stay. The food was awful. The castle wasn’t kept clean. Those should have been Maria’s responsibilities. But the Count should have managed the soldiers as well. After all a castle is a military base. Some of the Count’s soldiers were unkempt and sloppy in their duties. The overlord wasn’t impressed. He told the Count that if he couldn’t entertain visitors better - his castle and lands would be passed to someone who could. The overlord gave the Count three months. If when he returned he wasn’t entertained as he should be? Edwin would be landless and homeless.

Of course the Count wasn’t wholly blameless. If Maria couldn’t or wouldn’t run the castle properly the count should have employed an efficient housekeeper and butler who could. Maria really didn’t know what she should do. Her family had very good servants who did their tasks unobtrusively and efficiently. Maria had never known what hard work and organisation had gone into making her life easy.

Edwin shouted at his wife, reducing her to tears. She promised to do better but she had no idea how to. In desperation she visited her sister in law, the Count’s elder sister, who lived in another castle several leagues away. Maria wept all over his sister-in-law Susannah who wasn’t impressed. Susannah had tried to suggest to her brother that if he were to marry Maria he needed a castle manageress as well, but Edwin had been besotted with Maria. Susannah agreed to come to visit the castle and she what she could do. She would travel with a small e***** of soldiers led by an efficient sergeant and would bring her assistant housekeeper and assistant cook. They could find out what was really happening with the servants. Of course Maria was grateful but didn’t know what Susannah was really like. Susannah could be a bitch.

When she arrived Susannah insisted that if she was to help Maria and Count Edwin they had to obey her orders, whatever they were. They agreed without reservation.

Susannah had no illusions about her younger brother, Count Edwin. He had been the dim one of the family. He thought he had been given the castle to defend because it was important. Susannah knew he had been given the castle because it was pointless as a military installation. The pass it was supposed to protect was no longer a pass. The castle was the place to send retired and useless soldiers and an incompetent commander. All it was fit for was to entertain hunting parties and Maria and the Count had failed at that. The overlord would actually be unlikely to evict Susannah’s brother because the rest of his family were too important in Ruritania, but he had really been angry. He had visited Susannah on his way back to the capital and had been lavishly entertained, and yes, calmed down. But the castle had to be made suitable for its sole purpose as a place for Ruritanian nobility to enjoy some hunting in comfort.

Within hours of Susannah’s arrival the castle’s cook had been dismissed. The kitchens were a filthy disgrace. Susannah’s assistant cook had all the kitchen staff scrubbing and cleaning everywhere. Susannah was sent a message that the evening meal would be a cold buffet because the kitchen was unsafe to cook in.

Susannah spoke gently to the elderly housekeeper. It was obvious that the old lady was barely able to look after herself and couldn’t run the household. Susannah had the housekeeper moved to a set of rooms in the inner bailey. The old lady could entertain her friends and sit outside in good weather just to watch the activity. She would be retired but would be treated as a valued friend. The old housekeeper was delighted. She knew things were going wrong but had been unable to do anything about them without Maria’s backing. Susannah’s assistant housekeeper moved into the housekeeper’s office and started causing chaos among the servants.

Susannah’s sergeant started on the castle’s defenders. He paraded them, inspected them, and more than half were on a charge for uniform and weapon offences before the parade had ended. Count Edwin was nominally the castle’s commander but had never reviewed his troops. Although there were two sergeants, lacking the Count’s authority to discipline the troops, they had been unable to enforce their orders. They offered to work with Susannah’s sergeant, accepting him as their temporary commander.

By the end of a long day Susannah had found the root causes of all the castle’s problems beyond Edwin and Maria’s incompetence. The major one was the vast sums of money spent on Maria’s gowns. They were spending more than their income. A minor but important one was the status and pride of Maria’s personal seamstresses and maids. They were resented by everyone else. Susannah went to see Maria and asked to look at her wardrobe of gowns. There were dozens and dozens of expensive dresses. Susannah also looked at the wardrobes of the three seamstresses and the two ladies maids. They too had dozens of gowns each.

Susannah wanted to show how stupid this emphasis on clothing was. She started with Maria. She ordered Maria’s maids to dress her in five gowns one on top of another. Maria started to object but Susannah retorted that Maria had agreed to obey Susannah in everything so shut up. Maria continued to object. Susannah grabbed some scarves and gagged Maria into silence. The maids couldn’t put Maria’s bulky sleeves into the sleeves of the last dress. Susannah ordered them to put the gown over Maria and lace it tight with Maria’s arms inside the bodice.

Maria was a large bundle of clothes, unable to speak with her arms bound inside the outer dress. She could barely walk because of the layers of massive skirts around her legs. She stood in the middle of her dressing room like a stuffed doll.

Susannah summoned the seamstresses. She ordered them to dress the two maids like Maria in five of the gowns Maria had given them. The maids didn’t protest as Maria had done. They didn’t dare oppose Susannah. Soon two more stuffed dolls were standing beside Maria.

Of course you know what’s coming next. The seamstresses were treated like the ladies’ maids. Susannah had five women standing stiffly around Maria. She ordered that all six of them should be brought to the great hall, here, carried if necessary. They were lined up along the main table.”

Katya stopped talking. She grinned at us.

“That was the beginning of the ghost story. Now it is your turn to participate in the story. Will you please stand up, take off the belts around you, and hand them to the women behind you.”

I stood up. The other five followed. I took off my belt with its attached dagger and handed it to one of the two women standing beside me.

“Stephen will be playing the part of Maria,” Katya announced. “Please stand still, Stephen.”

The two women pulled a long dress down over my head. It was a soft silver colour fabric reinforced with Lycra. It clung to me like a second skin and had no armholes. My head emerged before the hood was fitted closely around my head. My belt, without its dagger, was wrapped three times around me from torso to hips and buckled.

“As you can see, Stephen as Maria is helpless. Anyone can do anything to him. Madeleine? I think he’d like a kiss.”

Madeleine took the hint. She kissed me, hugged me and kissed me again.

“Now the other two men can pretend to be the ladies’ maids.”

Gary and James were enveloped in silver dresses and belted into helplessness. Angela and Helen didn’t need an invitation to start kissing. I was surprised when the two women who had dressed me also kissed me. In between their kisses and Madeleine’s I could see that Gary and James were being ruthlessly kissed and caressed by three women each.

“But we haven’t got the three seamstresses yet...” Katya continued.

The three women were imprisoned in golden dresses and belted tight. They too were kissed by their jailers. All six of us were gently lowered to sit back on the settees.

“Susannah sent her housekeeper to summon all the indoor servants to see their mistress and her five favourites helplessly trussed up in multiple layers of clothing. Oops! I forgot. Maria had been gagged.”

Katya waved at one of the women standing behind me. That woman took a scarf from her belt, rolled it, ****ted it in the middle and gagged me. It was more of a symbolic gag than a real silencing. Madeleine started to object. Katya wagged a finger at her.

“Any objections and the objector will be gagged properly.”

Madeleine shut up.

“When the servants had been assembled Susannah told them that Maria and the five were being punished for their extravagance. Every day they were to be dressed as they were now. They would need help to eat, to drink and to go to the toilet. Apart from Maria who was gagged into silence each one of the five would have to ask a fellow servant to help. If no one would help them then they could ask Susannah’s housekeeper. If they had to, each time the housekeeper was asked for help would mean another day added to the punishment. They would start with five days. If after five days their fellow servants had helped them, the punishment would end. If not...

But these six were not the only ones who had failed the Count’s overlord. Susannah told the servants that everyone in the castle was on trial. If things hadn’t improved by the time the overlord returned every servant and soldier would be dismissed and homeless. It was up to them to show that the castle could be well defended and a pleasant and welcoming place for noble visitors. Susannah said that she was in complete charge of the castle at present. She would punish anyone who failed in their duties. She turned to her housekeeper and spoke quietly in her ear. The housekeeper took two maids and headed for Maria’s room.

They returned with yet another heap of Maria’s gowns before the three of them left again. They came back with Count Edwin. He was shocked to see his wife and maids bundled up like dolls. Her sister Susannah whispered in his ear. He shook his head violently. Susannah reminded him, aloud this time, that he had promised to obey her. Edwin shook his head again.

Susannah, the housekeeper and the two maids jumped on Edwin. Despite his struggles he was soon helplessly tied up with scarves around his arms and legs and was firmly gagged. He was dressed inside five of Maria’s dresses before being dragged to stand beside her.

Susannah told everyone that we now had seven Russian dolls that needed looking after. If anyone else failed in their work we could have more Russian dolls. The Count and Countess were sat at either end of the long table and tied to their chairs. The other five women were tied to chairs alongside the table. Susannah ordered the buffet to be brought in and laid on the table. She then invited the unencumbered servants to help themselves, and if they wanted to, to feed the five ungagged women. The Count and Countess would be fed on what scraps were left at the end.

The servants humiliated the bound women. If they asked for chicken they were fed vegetables; for wine they were given water. At the end when everyone else was full, the Count and Countess were briefly ungagged and fed.

Susannah told the servants that they could do whatever they liked to the five bound women. One of the maids took a scarf and gagged a lady’s maid. Within seconds all five were gagged.”

Katya made a signal. The women standing behind us gagged all five of us and my gag was covered with another scarf tied more tightly so I was really gagged instead of the loose mouth covering I had before.

James and Angela tried to speak through their gags. Another layer of scarf was wound over their mouths.

“Another maid suggested something else.” Katya continued.

All six of us were quickly blindfolded into complete darkness with more heavyweight scarves.

“The gagging and blindfolding meant that the five women couldn’t ask for help from their fellow servants. They had to seek help from the housekeeper and each silent request for help meant another day’s bondage for them. The housekeeper sent them away each time without their blindfolds or gags. However the first servant to encounter a bundled doll without the gag and blindfold soon rectified the omissions. Susannah had ordered that the Count and Countess should be bundled up every day until all the five servant women had ended their punishment. Except for the beginning of the evening meal the Count and Countess wouldn’t be gagged and would be attended by two servant women who would do whatever they were asked to do – eventually. Of course the servants treated the Count and Countess better than the bound servants.

The gagging and blindfolding of the unfortunate five ended as more and more servants were made into helpless dolls for incompetence or lack of diligence in following the housekeeper’s orders. It wasn’t so funny to gag the five women if you could be made as helpless as they were.

Some of the soldiers met the same fate as the servants for indiscipline. They were treated badly by their fellow soldiers but worse by any women they encountered.

Even now the castle is haunted by ghosts of people wandering very slowly around impeded by being inside layers of dresses and gagged. You might see some tonight. They will try to appeal to you for help. That’s pointless. You can’t help a ghost. You can’t release a ghost from bondage. Don’t be worried if you see them. Sorry! You can’t, can you? You’re blindfolded too. We’ll leave you to contemplate the consequences of disobeying our housekeeper’s orders.”

Katya stopped talking. We heard her and the other women walk away leaving the six of us as helpless blindfolded, gagged and bound captives sitting on the settees. We struggled to free ourselves but we too efficiently restrained.

+++

A quarter of an hour later we heard footsteps again.

“I didn’t finish the story,” Katya said. “Susannah and her assistants transformed the work of the castle. The soldiers were almost efficient, or as competent as they could be. When the overlord came back his e***** was challenged at the gate and when he entered the troops were already paraded for his inspection. He was delighted with the transformation.

Susannah, after eventually releasing the Count and Countess from their bondage gave them lessons on what their duties were as commander and mistress of a castle. She threatened them with turning them back into dolls if they didn’t learn their tasks. She told Maria to choose a total of twelve dresses from her wardrobe. She was never to have more than twelve at one time. If she wanted a new one and she wasn’t allowed one for three years, an old dress had to be taken to pieces and the materials saved. Any new dress should be made from the materials of the masses of discarded dresses, not from new material.

The two maids and the three seamstresses were allowed to keep two dresses each. Just like their mistress they were only allowed to replace a dress if an old one was dismembered. When on duty all five of them had to wear uniforms like the rest of the servants. All five had to make uniforms for the entire castle’s staff and their duty was to ensure that no servant or soldier had clothing that was damaged or worn no matter the cause.

The seamstresses’ last task was to make bondage costumes like those you are wearing now. Any insolence to the Count or Countess, any failure of duty, and the offender would be helplessly confined in a dress for five days. As you have experienced, a purpose made bondage dress is just as effective as five layers of gowns laced around you. Now we will release the women. It is up to them whether we release the men as well, or whether the men are carried to their bedrooms still bound. I’ll wait until the ladies are free and ask again. Breakfast will be between seven thirty and nine thirty tomorrow morning if you are free to get here. We’ll meet here at ten to start the tour of the basement museum.”

The blindfolds and gags were taken off Madeleine, Angela and Helen. They took off the men’s blindfolds but decided they would prefer their men taken upstairs as helpless bundles, so we were. The women who helped to carry us insisted on removing our gags so they could give us a goodnight kiss. I was left in the middle of the large four poster bed. It was surrounded by heavy curtains. Once they are closed we didn’t need any bedding over us because we were warm and draught-free.

The bed’s curtains were closed around me. I was left at Madeleine’s mercy. She relented and released me after ten minutes of teasing me with her naked breasts. After a shave and shower I joined her inside the curtained bed.

During the night I had two vivid dreams. In the first one I was walking a corridor of the castle at night when my way was blocked by two gagged women bound in layers of dresses. I tried to retreat but was cut off by three similar women. Either they were giantesses or I had shrunk. My head was at the level of their breasts. As they surrounded me my face was pressed hard against a bodice that was smothering me. I tried to reach up to remove a gag but my arms were squashed against me by warm bodies. I stirred in my sleep to find Madeleine’s arm across my face. She moved and the dream ended.

The second dream was that on the night of our wedding we were in the bedroom. Madeleine was still wearing her bridal gown and was laughing at me as she pulled several bridesmaids’ dresses down over my head. My arms and legs were tied with white bridal stockings. My mouth was full of Madeleine’s white satin panties. Her garter was holding them tightly in. After Madeleine pulled the last gown over my body she pushed me onto the bed. She lifted her skirt and petticoats before rubbing her warm wet pussy over my face. I woke up to find I was actually kissing Madeleine’s unimpeded pussy. She almost purred before dragging my head up her body to kiss her breasts. We went back to sleep.

I wondered what would happen tomorrow when we toured the basement museum.

+++

We had a different set of clothes to wear. Both of us had short tunics ending about half way down our thighs. Madeleine had hold up stockings in dark blue. I had below the knee socks.

After breakfast Petra took us down to the basement museum. I knew it had been changed since my last visit but I was surprised that it had been divided up into rooms by heavy red velvet curtains. We couldn’t see any of the exhibits without pulling aside a curtain and entering an enclosed space. Katya followed us with four more women. Petra lifted a curtain and gestured for us to enter. We couldn’t see anything at first until she turned some dim overhead lights on.

The Stocks

In front of us were five sets of wooden stocks. They looked much more complicated than the normal versions. They had seats like the sliding ones for rowing machines.

Petra called me forward.

“Stephen? I’d like you and Madeleine to be the first to show how these stocks work. You first, Stephen. Your head goes here and your hands here.”

I put my head down in the large padded semicircle and my wrists in the two smaller ones. As with normal stocks the upper section came down and locked into place. I was kneeling and facing the sliding seat. Petra asked Madeleine to sit on that seat. A metal device was placed above my body about two feet behind my neck. As Madeleine placed her legs into the semi-circular clamps I could see up under her tunic. She wasn’t wearing panties. I had a clear view of her exposed cleft. Madeleine’s ankles were clamped into position with her knees bent.

The part of the stocks in which Madeleine’s ankles were clamped was on a sliding frame with long screwed bolts running through. Madeleine’s wrists were secured by straps to the side of the sliding seat.

“This is the interesting part of this device,” Petra said.

Behind me, on the ends of the sliding frame, were two wheels connected to the long bolts. Petra and Katya started winding those wheels. Madeleine’s ankles were pulled by the restraints and slowly spread her legs wider. The seat on which she was sitting slid towards me slowly and gradually. The two women stopped turning the wheels as my face met the hem of Madeleine’s tunic. I was looking straight at an exposed cleft six inches away.

Petra spoke to the others.

“You can guess what comes next. We’ll leave them waiting. Gary and James? Will you please get into your stocks?”

They did know what was coming but Angela and Helen urged them forward. I couldn’t see anything except Madeleine’s cleft. My head was inside the skirt of her tunic. Madeleine tried to push herself forward towards me. She couldn’t.

Once the other couples were secured Petra and Katya returned to us leaving two women to operate the screw threads on the other stocks. They turned the wheels slower and slower as my face became very close. It was frustrating to be so near and unable to touch Madeleine even with my extended tongue.

Finally the screws were spun fast. I could lick Madeleine. The screws kept turning until my face was squashed against her.

“We could suffocate Stephen with your body and there’s nothing he or you, Madeleine, could do about it.” Petra said, “but we’ll leave you positioned just right.”

The screws slackened a little. I could nibble, lick and tongue Madeleine. I could hear her squealing above me. She had a tiny amount of movement to wriggle around and push forward or draw back. I was enjoying myself. So was she. The sounds from the other stocks seemed to show that Helen and Angela were pleased with the attention they were getting.

All of us were exhausted by the time we were released from the stocks. I barely heard Petra saying that they could be used the other way around with the women giving the man a blow job. She added that since we had booked for femdom, that wouldn’t happen.

When she suggested a coffee break upstairs before the next part of the basement we were relieved. We relaxed around the fire. I looked at the reassembled Matyroshka doll. I didn’t want to be inside it again. I had been so helpless as its prisoner. Petra and the other women left us for a few minutes so Katya looked after us.

Forty minutes later we were back downstairs with the group of women attendants. We went into another curtained area. There were metal devices hanging on the wall and some shrouded shapes about four feet high on the floor.

The Jailer’s Daughter

“This time,” Petra said, “all six of you will experience the same thing. But because it is supposed to be a surprise, you will be blindfolded first. The device is called The Jailer’s Daughter.”

She signalled to the attendant women. They all pulled scarves from their belts and blindfolded us. I couldn’t see what was happening to the others. I was guided to sit down with my back against a curved padded surface. My outstretched legs were resting on a padded surface about three inches above the floor. My hands were gently pulled out to touch the sides of the curved surface and soft cuffs were fastened on my wrists. My ankles had more cuffs fixing them to the floor. My head was eased backwards into a half circle padded collar before there was another curved padded surface swung into position gently locking my neck in place. The back of my head was resting against more padding that came around to the sides of my face.

“Mouth open, please, Stephen,” a woman whispered in my ear.

A soft gag was pushed in before my blindfold was removed. I had a few seconds to see before a metal clamp swung shut across my mouth holding the gag firmly in place. A padded leather strap was fastened across my forehead. In the dim lighting I could just see three conical shapes with gagged heads protruding. Petra turned the lights up. Madeleine, Angela and Helen’s gagged heads were sticking out above what seemed to be wide hooped skirts. I assumed that Gary and James were beside me, similarly restrained.

“You’ve met the jailer’s daughters,” Petra announced.

Someone behind me pushed me forward. Whatever I was confined inside had wheels. We were arranged facing Petra. Beside her there was a seventh conical shape still shrouded under a blanket. Petra lifted the blanket off to show Sarah, the castle’s housekeeper, restrained just like us.

“The Jailer’s Daughter is incomplete.” Petra said. “Sarah will be used to demonstrate what she should look like.”

An upper portion was lifted over Sarah’s head and locked into position. It showed the dressed torso, arms and head of a young woman. Sarah’s head was now invisible, presumably about the area of the figure’s stomach beneath the prominent breasts.

“Originally The Jailer’s Daughter was a torture device,” Petra said conversationally. “Once the upper part is in place it is water and air tight. The prisoner could be left inside as the air got staler and staler and would eventually suffocate. Or The Jailer’s Daughter could have a drink problem. Her mouth could open...”

There was a click as a woman demonstrated on the figure confining Sarah that the lips could open.

“...and water could be poured inside until the person inside drowned. Once the water had reached the level of the Jailer’s Daughter’s breasts and started to leak through the one way valves on her nipples the victim was dead. The prisoner might want to confess or give the information the torturers wanted. Unfortunately the gags you are wearing are too effective for you to speak so no matter how urgently you wanted to communicate, you can’t. None of you can, can you?”

I tried. All I managed were strangled grunts.

“You might want to ask why? Even though you can’t actually ask the question I’ll answer it. I and the other women are part of the opposition to the government and have been given a small part to play in the revolution. I have received a message telling us to start now. The castle’s men folk are all out in the countryside trying to stop an attack from the revolutionary forces. The other villagers have retreated up to the summer pastures in the mountains. We are single women who volunteered to stay in the castle. The others didn’t know that we are also part of the revolution. But there is no revolutionary force on the way. We women are already here inside the castle and now we have you six foreigners as prisoners and hostages. We didn’t need to lock you into the Jailer’s Daughters but now we have we can wheel you anywhere and only have to deal with one of you at a time. Even sixteen women might find it difficult to tackle and overcome six fit young people if you were loose. But just one of us can look after someone or even all seven of you locked inside Jailer’s Daughters.”

The woman standing beside Sarah closed the lips on the Jailer’s Daughter.

“Stephen, we want you to do something. Unless you agree we will leave Sarah inside the Jailer’s Daughter gradually running out of air. She has about half an hour while the air gradually gets stale. If you haven’t agreed we will enclose one of your friends, and another and another until you do agree. You don’t want Sarah to die horribly, do you?”

Petra unclamped the metal across my mouth and pulled out the soft gag. I worked my lips and swallowed but didn’t say anything. Petra stood in front of me.

“Stephen? We are going to take pictures of you six confined as you are. Your face will be clear. The others will still be gagged. We will send an email to your father. We want him to sign over the castle and his factories to the revolution because they are owned by foreigners. I’ll also record a video of you making a scripted appeal to your father. He’ll know it is scripted but that doesn’t matter.”

“Yes,” I said, “I’ll do it but let Sarah breathe first, please.”

“You’ll do it? I expected some reluctance at least.”

“I’ll do anything to save Sarah. She’s a friend, as I thought you were.”

Petra ordered the top half of the Jailer’s Daughter to be taken off Sarah. Sarah’s face was red but I thought it was anger, not lack of air.

“Why so compliant, Stephen?” Petra asked.

“Because it is pointless, Petra. I can record whatever you want me to say but my father can’t hand over the castle and the factories to the revolution. Why not? He doesn’t own them, and my family haven’t owned them for decades. If you ask Sarah she can confirm what I am saying about the castle. It is owned by the village and the government. We own five per cent which is the maximum foreign ownership allowed by Ruritania’s laws. We own five per cent of the factories. Yes, we are involved in the management but the profits go to the workers and the government.”

“Why should I believe you?” Petra was shocked by what I had said.

“Ask Sarah. She knows the truth about the castle. The leaders of your revolution have been lying to you and the people.”

“Lying?”

“Yes. Lying. If your government allowed free internet access in Ruritania those lies could easily be disproved. Limiting internet access is the stupidest thing your government has done. It allowed your leaders’ lies to go unchallenged. They, and you, aren’t very sophisticated by modern computing standards. You instructed Sarah to tell us that the castle’s Wi-Fi is not working. It is. You just changed the password. But you forgot that every bedroom has an Ethernet connection. I just plugged into that and had fast broadband access. I could even have reset your Wi-Fi password if I had wanted to.”

“So you knew that something was wrong?”

“Yes, Petra. I knew even before we came to the castle. I had thought we would be safe inside the castle which is staffed by the villagers who own it. I knew something was wrong when it was nearly empty and Sarah wasn’t her normal self. On previous visits Sarah greeted me with a fierce hug and a kiss. This time? She was scared and worried.”

“Why did you let us...?”

“You are village women, younger village women. The older villagers like us and know what we have done for them. I didn’t think whatever you did it would be that bad. I’m sure you wouldn’t really have suffocated Sarah.”

“If I admit you are right, what now?”

“You need to know the truth. Ask Sarah to confirm my statement about who owns the castle.”

Petra did. After Sarah’s gag was removed she gave Petra, Katya and the other women a considerable telling off in the local language. I won’t record what she said in detail but ‘stupid bitches’ was the gist. Sarah confirmed that my family didn’t own the castle. We had set up a company with the villagers as ninety per cent owners, five per cent owned by the government, and five per cent owned by the family. The government percentage meant that officials were more likely to agree to any alterations and improvements than if the castle was wholly in private ownership. As for the revolution and its leaders? They were financed by foreigners. THEY were the ones who wanted to sell the country to foreigners. Some of them already had, acquiring assets as Ruritanian nominees to avoid the law about five per cent maximum. Sarah said I could prove her statements about the revolution on line.

Petra asked me. I replied that if we were released I could access the internet, bypassing Ruritania’s firewall, and let her see what the rest of the world knew about her revolutionary leaders.

Petra had to consult all the others. There was some fierce argument in the local language but if Sarah and the others wore soft cuffs and if I was shackled to Petra and Katya then we could be released from the Jailer’s Daughters. Two women went off to get the cuffs from elsewhere in the dungeons and one went to my room to get my laptop.

The others were released. Their hands were cuffed before their ankles were released and they could stand up. I asked Petra whether the Jailer’s Daughter had a femdom element. She answered that if the man inside didn’t have the gag a woman could sit astride and wrap her legs around his head. I looked down at the skirt of the Jailer’s daughter. Without the upper body the skirt was almost flat in front of my head. I could imagine Madeleine sitting there with my face between her legs.

Finally Petra and Katya clamped a metal belt around my waist. My wrists were cuffed to it. They fitted a studded leather collar around my neck with two leashes. They held a leash each as we moved back up to the Great Hall. There Sarah and the six of us were placed in heavy chairs positioned around the table. Those chairs had been standing against a wall. Our ankles were clamped to the chairs’ legs and our waists were clamped to the chairs’ backs. Once we were secured to the chairs the padded cuffs were removed from our wrists. My wrists were still fixed to the metal belt round my waist.

Petra set up my laptop. I talked her through how to bypass Ruritania’s internet firewall and told her to search for details about the revolution’s leaders. She and Katya dropped my leashes as they searched. Their language was colourful as they saw what Ruritania’s people didn’t know.

While they were busy on line some of the other women brought us a cold lunch. Two of them fed me on whatever I wanted because my hands weren’t free. The others could manage except when something was beyond their reach. Whatever they asked for was given to them. The women were becoming more relaxed with us as Petra and Katya told them about the lies they had been fed. These revolutionary women were becoming more disillusioned with their leaders and their cause by the minute. I suggested that they looked for Ruritania’s political prisoners and prisoners of conscience. As I thought, there weren’t any. But that search directed them to Snopes which detailed the lies told by the leaders of the revolution. All those named as detained by the government were actually living in luxury outside Ruritania.

Petra suddenly slumped with her head in her hands.

“What do we do now?” she wailed. “Our revolution is run by crooks who just want to make money for themselves.”

“You could start by releasing us,” I suggested quietly. “We’re useless as hostages. You can’t persuade my father to give the people assets they already own.”

“Yes,” Petra said slowly. “We have imprisoned you and Sarah uselessly. I’m sorry. You’re our friends, especially Sarah. We’ve known her all our lives and now we’ve misused her. How can you forgive us?”

Petra walked across to Sarah and removed her restraints. Sarah got up slowly and stood awkwardly at first. Sarah stroked Petra’s cheek before she came towards me.

“This is the greeting I wanted to give you when you arrived, Stephen,” Sarah said.

She kissed me on both cheeks before pulling my head against her ample breasts.

“I hoped you would realise something was wrong when I didn’t.”

I couldn’t reply. Sarah was hugging me too tightly. As she let me go she kissed me on the lips. She stood up. Petra moved her gently aside before she too kissed me and hugged me to her nearly exposed breasts.

“This is the welcome I should have given my friend,” Petra said.

“Hey!” Madeleine protested. “That’s my fiancé you’re smothering!”

“Sorry, Madeleine.” Petra said. “You need a welcome too.”

Petra kissed Madeleine on both cheeks before dragging Madeleine’s head between her breasts. I would have objected but my head was in Katya’s cleavage. The other two men and three women were still restrained and unable to resist as they were kissed and hugged by relays of women. They might have been expressing their regret but they seemed to be enjoying that expression too much. When Petra came back to me she turned her body so Madeleine couldn’t see before she pushed my head between two naked breasts. As she pulled back I kissed both of her nipples. That was a mistake. Petra clamped my head deep into her soft cleavage.

Eventually all of us were released but the hugging and kissing continued, this time with active partners.

+++

Petra asked me what they could do to stop the revolution. I suggested that they could recall the castle’s men folk and the villagers who were hiding from an invasion that wasn’t coming.

What I could do, after restoring the Wi-Fi and mobile coverage, was contact Jakob in the capital. I was circumspect in what I said but I let him know we were out of danger and the castle and its staff were safe.

I spent a couple of hours drafting an email to all the contacts my family had in the Ruritanian government suggesting that they should open up Ruritania’s internet access and publicise the external websites that told the truth about the revolutions. I said that one wouldn’t work without the other. People had to be able to look at the websites themselves, not take the government’s word for the content.

When I hit send on that email I worried that I, as a foreigner, was making a significant intervention in Ruritania’s election. But I owed it to my friends in the country. Ruritania’s democratic opposition was not involved in the revolution. They might have different priorities from the current government but they supported the democratic principles and institutions.

I thought hard before I searched for a contact list of the opposition’s leaders. I forwarded them the email I had sent to the government.

Within an hour of sending those emails my inbox was overflowing with replies. I spent most of the rest of the day answering queries and suggesting external websites to look at for the details of the ‘revolution’. Madeleine, Petra and Katya kept me supplied with coffee and sandwiches. Petra and Katya were often at my shoulders looking with amazement at the names of the Ruritanian politicians sending emails to me. Almost everyone of note who was in the parliament was corresponding with me.

By early evening the Head of State and the leader of the opposition had come to an agreement to allow unrestricted internet access throughout Ruritania. In an unprecedented show of unity they appeared side by side on the evening’s main TV news programme to announce that and to give a short list of sites to look at that disproved the ‘revolution’s’ lies. By midnight my emails ceased coming. Ruritania’s ageing telephone network couldn’t cope with the traffic on the internet.

Most of the others were in the television room watching the large screen for the TV news which continued with news bulletins as the situation developed. I was pleased that I wasn’t mentioned at all.

The leader of the ‘revolution’, who claimed to be a poor peasant farmer, was arrested in his Rolls-Royce as he arrived at an airport to take his executive jet out of the country. He wouldn’t have succeeded. His pilot and mechanics had decided not to prepare the jet for flight. Several other leaders were also arrested heading for the borders of Ruritania.

At midnight the television station was showing demonstrations in the main squares of the capital – against the ‘revolution’. They seemed to be more like parties than demonstrations.

The leader of the opposition and the leader of the government appeared again shortly after midnight. They appealed for calm and no recriminations. They both encouraged the people to register to vote and to vote in the forthcoming elections to make a free unfettered choice for who would run Ruritania. They shook hands as their joint statement ended.

The women had been using their mobile phones to contact the castle’s men folk, particularly their boyfriends, and the other villagers. Everyone would be back sometime tomorrow. Sarah announced that there would be a party for everyone. It had been intended to be our Halloween party. It still would be but also a time to celebrate the survival of Ruritania’s democracy. Instead of six people at the party there would be nearly a hundred.

Petra and Katya were hugging and kissing me so much that Madeleine objected. They responded by kissing and hugging Madeleine too, so much that I had to object as well. They picked Madeleine up and dumped her on my lap before the kissing started again. Petra’s breasts were still exposed. Madeleine took her shift dress off and then her bra. She was naked except for stockings. Katya decided that was a good idea so she stripped too, followed by Petra. I was swamped between three naked women competing to see how much flesh they could press against me. Madeleine declared that unfair because I was still dressed. I resisted slightly but I enjoyed it as three determined women stripped me.

Back in our bedroom Madeleine insisted on using some of the restraints. She strapped my hands to the rails at the head of the bed before licking and kissing my body. She slid her erect nipples over my chest before presenting them to my mouth one by one. We were too tired after the excitement to do much so she released me after about twenty minutes and snuggled against my shoulder.

I had another dream. This time I was imprisoned in the lower part of The Jailer’s Daughter as Katya’s cleft covered my mouth and nose. Petra was standing behind Katya pushing her harder and harder against me. Katya leant forward to wrap her arms around my head. Suddenly we were in darkness. Petra had fitted the top half of the Jailer’s Daughter over both of us. Katya and I were locked inside together. The torso of the Jailer’s Daughter had clamped Katya’s hips tight against my head. I was struggling to breathe. Katya was trying, unsuccessfully, to push herself away to give me access to air. I heard Petra close the lips above us. Both of us would die from lack of air as we struggled to stop me suffocating between Katya’s lips.

In my dream I remembered something Petra had said after we had been released earlier. The original Jailer’s Daughter had been made air and watertight but the modern versions weren’t. They had air vents built into the upper part. No one inside a Jailer’s Daughter would suffocate or drown. Petra had told me that Sarah would suffocate just to persuade me to cooperate.

After that thought the dream changed. I was pressed into the massive cleavage of Maria, the Count’s wife. My arms were held in an arm binder behind my back. The maids were lacing Maria into the first dress of her bondage. As they pulled the laces tighter I was forced deeper between Maria’s breasts. Those breasts were so large that they were closing behind my head as I sank deeper. As Maria was laced into more dresses I was confined tighter and tighter against her soft body. Not just my head but my whole body down to my hips were sinking into Maria. I was being swallowed by her soft plumpness. I didn’t know how I could breathe or survive.

The dream changed again. Instead of being restrained and smothered in Maria’s layered dresses I was the filling in a sandwich of the naked bodies of Madeleine, Petra and Katya. They were arguing quietly about which one should smother me to u*********sness. Madeleine said she should because I was her fiancé. Petra and Katya complained that Madeleine didn’t have large enough breasts to do it properly. Madeleine slid up my body to press my face against her stomach, saying that if she didn’t have enough breast she had a nice plump soft body that could do the smothering.

She has. I woke up with her stomach across my face. I kissed her navel as I slid out from under her. She stirred before snuggling back against my shoulder and pulling one of my hands to a naked breast. I slept the rest of the night.

+++

After breakfast Petra whispered in Madeleine’s ear. Madeleine nodded.

“Stephen, please sit in that chair,” Madeleine asked indicating one of the heavy bondage chairs.

She clamped my wrists to the arms of the chair, and my ankles to the legs. Behind me, where I couldn’t see, Petra gave Madeleine two scarves. Madeleine used one of them, ****ted in the centre, to gag me. She tied it in place with the other scarf. Petra came around to stand in front of me. Petra beckoned everyone else, the two men and women and all the maids, to stand behind her. Madeleine stood behind me with her arms d****d over my shoulders and down over my chest. It was a defiant message of ownership. I was enjoying being owned by Madeleine.

“Stephen,” Petra said, “We’re grateful for what you did last night but now we’re scared of you. We knew from Sarah that you were an important person in Ruritania. We didn’t take that in. But when you can send a couple of emails to everyone who runs the country, and they act because of you? You have stopped a revolution.”

I shook my head.

“I asked Madeleine to gag you to stop your protests. We are worried. We abused you. If you wanted revenge...”

I shook my head again.

“Madeleine said you wouldn’t but we’re still worried. We have changed what we were going to do today. We had to anyway. This afternoon the men will be back and we’re having a party to celebrate the end of Ruritania’s troubles. This evening will be the Halloween party, just for you six with a few of us women helping. But this morning? We’re going back down to the basement for some enjoyment. It won’t last long because you six need dancing lessons. This afternoon’s party will involve traditional dances and you will participate.”

Petra signalled to someone out of my sightline. Katya came to stand beside Petra. Katya was holding something covered with a scarf.

“But first we have to acknowledge what Stephen has done for us.”

Katya handed the covered object to Petra who walked towards me. Madeleine slid her arms off me. Petra removed the scarf to display a metal crown. She put it on my head before walking backwards.

“We have crowned you, Stephen, as King of this castle. We’re sorry we can’t do more, but we can acknowledge you as our King and saviour.”

To my surprise all the local women executed a simultaneous and graceful curtsey. My friends bowed to me.

Madeleine removed the two scarves gagging me. I was still secured to the chair.

“Thank you, Petra and everyone, but please, please, keep this quiet. The emails I sent started something that I couldn’t have done alone. The people of Ruritania have done everything. My role should be forgotten. I thank you for crowning me, but I am still just Stephen, Madeleine’s fiancé and your friend.”

Madeleine kissed me before I could day any more. I heard Petra telling the maids what to do for our next session in the basement. Or rather I heard some of it. Madeleine’s kissing was too enthusiastic.

Everyone left. I was still restrained in the chair.

“Hey!” I shouted. “What about me?”

“You can contemplate the uselessness of Kings,” Madeleine retorted but she could see Sarah coming across to me.

“I’ll sort you out, King Stephen,” Sarah said quietly as the others left.

“I feel embarrassed and worried about the consequences of last night,” I admitted as Sarah unfastened the shackles holding me to the chair. The crown wobbled on my head. When my arms were free I lifted the crown off and looked at it.

Sarah stood back.

“The consequences? Ruritania should be very grateful to you but I don’t think you appreciate the local consequences, Stephen.”

“Local?”

“Yes. The maids who supported the revolution were persuaded that they were ‘oppressed’. Their men weren’t convinced. We have had little to do with events in the capital and the local women have always run their men. If anyone was oppressed it was the men, even if they didn’t necessarily realise it. It had led to disagreements between the women and men and even two broken engagements. Now the women know they were being duped? The friendships and possibly even the engagements are probably being mended. I know of two friendships that have been restored just by phone calls. This afternoon’s party could finish the process and King Stephen will be responsible for bringing peace back here.”

Sarah pointed at the crown I was still holding.

“To us, that is real. It is a genuine Royal crown from the time when this part of Ruritania was a separate small kingdom. Your grandfather found it in a sealed cupboard when the castle was being renovated. Until this morning it was kept in the safe and sometimes on display in a secure display case. Its intrinsic value is small because it is made of brass. Its sentimental and historic value is enormous. It was the crown that the King wore every day, not the formal crown for state occasions. The women have given you a real coronation. You ARE the King of the Castle...”

“...but I’m still run by women?”

“Of course. If not by our local women then I’m sure Madeleine will make sure you do what you are told to do, with love of course. She might not be as obvious about it as to shackle you to a chair, but you’ll know you belong to her. She wrapped her arms around you just before she knew you would be crowned. That was very deliberate and a clear statement to all of us. You may be our King, but you’re Madeleine’s man.”

I held out the crown to Sarah. She shook her head.

“No, Stephen. You’ll have to wear it this afternoon. Even when you’re not wearing it you’ll still be our King.”

“If I am, then you, Sarah, are my governor of this castle. You have been ever since I first came here. Why did you let the women lock you up?”

“You knew I’d consented?”

“Not necessarily consented, but not resisted. If you had shouted at them? They would have stopped at once.”

“They were silly. I knew that they wouldn’t go through with it but I had to get them into an awkward position so they would have to admit they’d been fooled. Their embarrassment caused a swift rejection of the revolution. Even if they had held the castle for the revolution what would be the point? It is miles from anywhere but the village. The villagers would carry on as normal just ignoring the women. There would be no siege, no attack, just a boring self-imprisonment. The occupation wouldn’t last much longer than a couple of days, and would probably end because they wanted fresh milk and bread. Stupid women.”

“They were easily led,” I said.

“Easily? Yes. They are naive village girls compared with the revolution’s scheming leaders. They thought that capturing the castle and forcing your father to hand it over would make a real difference to the revolution. I had told them before they started work here that the castle was owned by the community. They didn’t listen. They thought because your father was so respected in the village he must be the landlord. Your father is respected in the village because he ISN’T the landlord but the person who gave the village an asset. And now you, Stephen, are even more respected than your father. He gave them the castle. You saved the country.”

“No. I didn’t. Ruritania’s politicians saved the country. All I did was point out the obvious.”

“Sorry, Stephen. That won’t do. We know and our political leaders know that it was you. They might not want to admit it in public but they owe you more than they can repay. So do we. You’re now King Stephen and you’ll have to live with that role.”

I turned the crown around in my hands. It was a simple brass circle with cut and embossed decoration. I could imagine it as a King’s day to day wear. It was light, simple, but obvious. Why was it in a sealed cupboard? I suppose I’ll never know. I put it back on my head.

“OK, Sarah, if to you and the locals I am King Stephen, then King Stephen I’ll have to be. But only when I’m here. I’m King of this castle, that’s all, and you run this castle, not me.”

Sarah hugged me before kissing me on both cheeks.

“You’re still my Stephen, except when you’re Madeleine’s. We ought to join them downstairs, perhaps without the crown.”

I took the crown off and handed it to Sarah before we went down to the basement.

+++

Pleasing The Bride

Petra met me downstairs. I could hear sounds of aroused and excited women behind curtained areas. Petra held a curtain aside. Madeleine was dressed in a bridal gown with a very wide skirt. The long integral train was part of the skirt. Katya was just tying the laces at the back of Madeleine’s bodice. Beyond them was a small stage about table height with steps leading up to it. Madeleine was holding white fur-lined cuffs. She turned me around to cuff my wrists behind my back.

“You have to please Madeleine,” Petra said, “and you can’t use your hands. Stand there while we get Madeleine ready for you.”

Petra and Katya helped Madeleine to climb the stairs to the stage. Madeleine stood at the back which pushed the front of her skirt forwards beyond the stage’s front edge. The two women arranged the train to one side before lifting the front of Madeleine’s skirt.

“Under you go, Stephen,” Madeleine said, “and show me what you can do.”

As I moved forward the skirt was lifted further to show that Madeleine’s cleft was bare. I kissed it. As I did, the skirt was dropped behind me. Madeleine’s hands outside the skirt pressed my face closer and directed me where to lick and where to tongue.

I had kissed Madeleine there before but I had never had such access under a dress. I used all my accumulated skill to arouse Madeleine. Soon she was panting and whimpering. Her hands were pressing harder against the back of my head.

I felt hands at my cuffs. They were removed and I could grab Madeleine’s legs to give me leverage. Her hands lifted away. She didn’t need to direct me now. Suddenly she arched in ecstasy with her first orgasm. I had to hold on as she writhed above me. She was squealing loudly as I brought her to peak after peak.

Eventually she slumped against me. As she did I felt movement around the waist of her dress. Suddenly a hooped petticoat that had been bunched up above my head slipped downwards. It was helped by Petra and Katya. Unlike the wider hoop that had been holding the bridal skirt as a wide cone it was almost straight. My head and body were clamped against Madeleine’s pussy and legs.

Madeleine sat down. I had to comply with her movements and kneel. That slim petticoat was pulled further. The women slid the train of Madeleine’s skirt under me and beyond my feet before folding it inwards from the sides and upwards from beyond my feet. I was wholly bagged inside Madeleine’s skirt.

“Now the bride has you exactly where she wants you,” Petra said, “and you are her prisoner.”

Inside a heavy skirt and layers of petticoat I was running out of air. I felt Madeleine scrabble at her skirt to pull it up and off me. I was still held inside the slim hooped petticoat but I could breathe through that. Petra and Katya slid it up and I could stand up. Madeleine was looking at me as her petticoat and skirt were rearranged. I held out a hand to her as she dropped her feet to the floor. She looked wonderful as a bride and that gave me an idea.

I knelt down in front of Madeleine and took her hand.

“Madeleine? Will you marry me?”

Madeleine looked stunned. She lifted our joined hands and pointed to her engagement ring.

“I have already said I will, Stephen. We’re engaged, or have you forgotten?”

I smiled at her.

“I know we are engaged. I am honoured and delighted that you said yes, Madeleine. What I meant was...”

I paused. Madeleine still looked puzzled.

“Will you marry me, here, in this castle, now?”

“Here? Now?” Madeleine queried.

“Yes, Madeleine my fiancée. Here and if not now as soon as we can get our parents here. My intended Best Man is already here. Your two bridesmaids are here. This castle does weddings. Why not have our wedding here?”

Madeleine sat down on the edge of the stage still holding my hand. I shuffled forwards so my head was against her skirt.

“Is it possible?” She asked.

Petra replied before I could.

“Yes, Madeleine, it is possible. The castle has a chapel and we are licensed for weddings. The priest can be here within an hour. For the civil part of the ceremony we need a village elder. Sarah can be that. She’s done weddings before. After that? All that you would need is to send copies of the paperwork to the British Embassy in the capital. That would make your marriage legal in the United Kingdom too.”

As Petra was speaking Madeleine’s free hand was gently stroking my head.

“You really mean it, don’t you, Stephen?”

“Yes, Madeleine. You’re already dressed as a bride. If we wanted, you could be a bride for real in an hour from now. But I think we should have our parents here as well. They could be here in a couple of days.”

Madeleine was still thinking. Katya added:

“Madeleine, if you are married here, you might need to think about something else.”

“What, Katya?” Madeleine asked.

“If you are married in this castle, you will be marrying our King. You won’t just become Stephen’s wife. You’ll be our Queen.”

“Queen?”

“Yes, Madeleine,” Petra said. “You will become Queen Madeleine. I’m sure we can find you a crown to wear even if we have to make you one.”

“So, Madeleine,” I said, “will you marry me here and be Queen of the Castle?”

Madeleine lent forward to kiss my head.

“Yes, King Stephen. I will – if we can get our parents here.”

“I’ll send them an email. Friday OK?”

“Friday? Yes, Stephen, why not?”

“Once you’ve sent those emails you need to change,” Petra said. “You have some folk dancing lessons in an hour.”

+++

An hour later I had sent the emails and the six of us were in the Great Hall. The men were wearing lederhosen – leather shorts with fancy braces. The women were wearing long circular skirts with an apron and embroidered peasant blouses. All of us were wearing boots. Six local women, including Petra and Katya, were dressed like the other women. Sarah was sitting down with a piano accordion.

The six local women demonstrated the male and female parts of a folk dance. As the ‘men’ in the centre jumped about with their hands in the air and sometimes slapping their thighs – which wasn’t very effective as the women slapped their skirts – the women spun around splaying their skirts horizontally, showing long legged panties underneath.

The women circled three times before joining the men for a waltz in a circle. There were various figures as the men and women intertwined and then the first part was repeated with the women spinning around.

We were asked to try the dance. We three men didn’t do too badly but the women couldn’t get their skirts to splay correctly. After a quarter of an hour we were all laughing at their failed attempts.

Helen snapped at her husband James.

“You should try it,” Helen objected, “it’s not as easy as it looks.”

“Why not?” Petra said. “We can find some skirts for the men to show you women how it should be done.”

A few minutes later we were wearing skirts and aprons over our lederhosen. We failed to spin correctly and were even worse than the three women. James fell over, tripped up by his skirt. Helen thought that was a fair revenge. Petra whispered in Helen’s ear. Helen nodded.

“Try it without the apron, James,” Helen suggested. She untied the apron around his waist. He spun frantically but failed. As he stopped turning his skirt lashed around him and he staggered with dizziness. Helen grabbed his skirt, hauled it up over his head, twisted the hem and tied the apron around his head. He was trapped inside an inverted skirt.

I started to laugh at him but my laughter was cut short and Gary and I were similarly bagged in the skirts. Angela and Madeleine had been helped by the six local women. I flinched as Madeleine’s hand cradled my erection through my tight leather shorts.

We were released a minute or so later and kissed.

“I think we’ll assume you can’t do the local dances,” Petra said. “You can watch this afternoon, or dance at the edges. We locals are likely to be very enthusiastic so you could be safer well away from the groups.”

That’s what we did. At the afternoon party I wore my crown and sat behind a table on the dais at the end of the Great Hall. Madeleine was beside me and the other two couples were also sitting on the dais. We had jugs of wine and food on the table. At the beginning and end of each set of dancing the dancers bowed and curtseyed to me as their King. It was obvious that some of the couples were renewing relationships fractured by the women’s former support of the revolution. Couples would drop out the dance sets and retreat to a dark corner for some kissing and cuddling.

Towards the end of the party I checked on my laptop to see whether I had any response from my email. I hadn’t. I did have several emails from Ruritanian politicians thanking me for what I had done. I acknowledged them.

Sarah brought me a list of names.

“These people have just become engaged, or renewed a recently broken engagement,” she said. “It would be good if you could congratulate them at the next break.”

“Of course, Sarah.” I replied.

The musicians stopped for a break and some wine. I stood up, clapped my hands and called for silence. The dancers gathered in front of the dais. In the local language I congratulated each engaged couple, calling them forward pair by pair. Two more couples asked to be added, so I congratulated them too. Gary told me in a stage whisper that he and Angela were engaged too. I announced that in the local language and in English. I was about to sit down when Madeleine tugged at my sleeve.

“You’ve had replies from our parents,” she said quietly. “They’re coming on Friday.”

I turned back to the crowd.

“This Friday,” I said, “Madeleine and I are getting married. Here. In this castle. You are all invited to our wedding.”

There was a cheer. Sarah came forward.

“Congratulations to King Stephen,” Sarah said, “and to Madeleine who will be Queen Madeleine on Friday.”

That caused another cheer. Sarah picked up her piano accordion and started to play the Ruritanian national anthem. We all stood and except for my friends who don’t know the local words, we sung loudly and fervently. As King, should I have sung? I think so. I am King of this Castle, not King of Ruritania which remains a democratic republic.

+++

We left them to continue celebrating. I was expecting the evening’s Halloween Party to be an anticlimax. The men had been away and the women had been expecting to be involved with the revolution with us as prisoners.

We went for a walk outside the castle and particularly visited the gorge and its waterfall. Those who hadn’t been to the castle before could see that there were many places we could visit within a few miles of the castle. The village and the outer bailey might be back to normal tomorrow except for a few hangovers.

+++

For the party I was dressed as the King and the others as Lords and Ladies. I underestimated the organisational skills of Sarah and the others. They had arranged many parties before. We would have a Halloween themed banquet with horrible-looking but tasty food, plenty of alcohol and the entertainment would include the castle’s ghosts.

We sat on the dais facing the main area of the Great Hall. The ghosts would appear and disappear through the entrances to the kitchens. Their appearance would be aided by some projected computer graphics. The musicians who had played for the afternoon’s party would be to one side of the hall. Although there was a minstrels’ gallery above the screen it didn’t have great acoustics for amplified music. There was a significant echo to any music played from the gallery. There might not have been when the Great Hall’s walls were covered in floor to ceiling tapestries, but those tapestries had been long gone.

The ghosts covered the history of the castle and its region from prehistory to the middle ages. Many of them spoke rehearsed speeches, translated for us by Petra and Katya. After twenty minutes we could see that some of them were the same people playing different roles. There was a break in the performance and the participants came up on to the stage to meet us. The male ghosts kissed the women on the dais; the female ghosts kissed the men AND the women. After one lingering kiss Angela queried me.

“Stephen? I thought you said we could look but not touch? I’m not complaining. Gary might if he wasn’t enjoying himself so much...”

A formerly headless nun was passionately kissing Gary.

“I said WE should look and not touch. It’s up to them whether they touch us.”

“Touch, he calls it,” Helen objected as she ended yet another embrace. “They’re doing more than touching.”

“But I’m enjoying it,” Madeleine said.

“So am I,” Angela said. Helen might have agreed but she was grappling with a large nobleman who had an arrow apparently through his head.

Katya clapped her hands. The performers reluctantly left the dais. They seemed to have been enjoying themselves as much as we had. They went to stand in front of the screen below the Minstrels’ Gallery.

“The next item is about our last King and should be of interest to our new King Stephen,” Katya said.

A man entered dressed in half-armour. He was wearing a crude cardboard replica of the crown I was wearing. He was followed by four men dressed as knights. He walked forward halfway between his entrance and the dais.

“I represent King Oskar, last King of this realm,” he said nervously.

“No you don’t, young man!” A deep voice boomed and echoed from the Minstrels’ Gallery.

A figure came forward wearing my crown. I stood up and bowed to him. The others on the dais took the hint. They bowed and curtsied to the man on the gallery. He bowed back.

“Thank you, King Stephen,” he said, “I don’t represent King Oskar. I AM King Oskar even though I’m long dead.”

Petra and Katya were too stunned to continue the translation. They hadn’t expected a real King Oskar. I whispered a translation to my friends as King Oskar spoke slowly and clearly.

“I was the King, the last King. Why was I the last? This realm was coveted by our neighbours. For generations my predecessors had played one neighbour off against another and fought invasions. But two of our Southern neighbours signed an alliance after a dynastic marriage. Those two became Ruritania. Two of our Northern neighbours were planning an invasion that we would lose. I consulted my council of nobles and we decided it would be better for our people if we joined Ruritania. Three countries allied together and becoming one country would stop the invasion. But Ruritania could only have one King, and that couldn’t be me, as King of the smallest of the three.”

King Oskar pointedly took off his crown. He put it down on the balustrade at the front of the Minstrels’ Gallery.

“I became a Duke, a Duke of Ruritania, the highest rank of nobility below a King. I was known informally as the King Duke Oskar. In my part of Ruritania I was still their King. In the rest of Ruritania I was a Duke. My Coronation crown was placed with Ruritania’s other disused crown jewels where they remained until they were looted in the early 19th Century by Napoleon Bonaparte. But...”

King Oskar grinned at us.

“...since I am a ghost, I can have a ghostly crown that no longer exists.”

He lifted his hands to his head and placed on it a large ornate golden crown sparkling with jewels.

“This was the Coronation crown. As part of our traditions the King crowns himself. It is a relic of the conquest of this region by my a*****ors. They established this Kingdom from a group of formerly antagonistic tribes. The first King crowned himself to show that he alone had made himself King. That you should do, King Stephen.”

I was still frantically translating. King Oskar waited until I had finished.

“Please take off my crown for daily wear, King Stephen.”

I took it off and put it on the table in front of me. King Oskar lifted the Coronation crown from his head.

“Catch!”

He threw it towards me. I caught it. How he threw something so heavy that distance I don’t know but I had a massive crown in my hands. It was a crown that doesn’t exist but I was holding it in my hands.

“Now, King Stephen, please repeat after me. I, King Stephen...”

“I, King Stephen...”

“By right of the will of the people...”

“By right of the will of the people...”

“Crown myself as your King.”

“Crown myself as your King.”

I put the heavy crown on my head.

“Musicians! The anthem.” King Oskar ordered.

The musicians were startled. Their first few bars were ragged. Their conductor started them again. Everyone bowed or curtsied to me. At the end I bowed to them and to King Oskar.

“Thank you, King Oskar,” I said, bowing again to him. The crown wobbled on my head.

“Throw it back,” King Oskar ordered. “You can’t keep a ghostly crown that doesn’t exist. It was only used for coronations. You can put my daily crown back on.”

I lifted the coronation crown off my head and threw it as hard as I could towards King Oskar. It couldn’t possibly go that far. It did and King Oskar caught it. He put it down behind the balustrade, picked up the daily crown and we synchronised putting the crowns on our heads.

“I’ll leave you to enjoy the rest of your evening,” King Oskar said. “I’ll return if you or my countrymen need me. You shouldn’t. In King Stephen I have a worthy successor.”

King Oskar stepped backwards into the gloom at the back of the Minstrels’ Gallery. I bowed to him again as he vanished.

I sat down suddenly. What had happened? Did I imagine it? Apparently not. All those around me were as stunned as I was. I grabbed a glass of wine and sank it. Madeleine promptly refilled it. I stood up and raised my glass. The hall fell silent.

“To King Duke Oskar of Ruritania!” I shouted.

Everyone raised their drinks and drank when I did, saying “To King Duke Oskar of Ruritania”.

I sat down again amid a buzz of conversation as everyone tried to work out what King Oskar’s appearance meant. Everyone started drinking more. The appearance of a real ghost was unexpected and had effectively ended the party.

+++

The next few days followed a similar pattern. We tried many of the bondage scenarios in the basement, went for long walks around the countryside, and ate took much in the evenings. Our focus was on Friday’s wedding. My father had sent me an email. We were invited to a reception at the British Embassy in Ruritania’s capital on Monday afternoon. All six of us and the parents we would be flying back home that evening.

Madeleine, Angela, Helen, Petra and Katya went into wedding planning mode as we men went for walks. Apparently the worst problem the women faced was what Madeleine would wear on her head. She’d have a veil topped with a tiara but the tiara would be exchanged for a crown after the marriage as she becomes Queen Madeleine. My role was to crown her.

Our parents arrived midday on Thursday. After greeting us, they changed and disappeared into the basement museum to experiment with the new devices. Both mothers were flushed and excited when they joined us for the evening meal.

The Wedding

The wedding was to start at ten a.m. on Friday morning. Madeleine was five minutes late. I was dressed in the clothes the act had been wearing to impersonate King Oskar. I was wearing his day to day crown. Gary was looking after the basic 9 carat gold wedding ring from the castle’s stock for wedding ceremonies. I might have to replace it with something better when we get back to England. Perhaps Madeleine would decide to use it like King Oskar’s crown – to wear on a day to day basis and have another one for formal occasions.

The castle’s chapel wasn’t really large enough for everyone who wanted to attend. Our friends and parents filled the first line of seats. The locals filled the rest of the chapel with people standing at the back. Someone had set up a video relay to the television room and even that room was overfull. There were four cameras recording and later the video would be edited into a coherent whole.

We all stood up as Madeleine came into the chapel on her father’s arm. She was wearing the same wedding dress she had been wearing when I had tried to please the bride. As all brides should, she looked magnificent and very happy. I wondered whether she was naked underneath. She obviously wasn’t wearing the slim hooped petticoat because she was striding up the aisle as if she wanted to get to me quickly. Angela and Helen were holding up her train. Petra followed them holding a crown on a velvet cushion. I joined Madeleine at the altar in front of the aged priest.

The ceremony was in the local language and I had to prompt Madeleine sometimes. We said our vows in the local language and in English. Almost at the ceremony the priest signed for the congregation to sit down. He then started on a long sermon on marriage which the visitors couldn’t understand. He had listed ten points that he was going to talk about and was just about to start on number two when he was interrupted.

“Shut up, old man!” A deep voice shouted in the local language from the door of the chapel. “They and we don’t want to hear you rambling on. Give them the blessing and we can get on with the important party.”

The priest nearly dropped his notes. Striding fiercely towards him was King Duke Oskar wearing the crown that matched mine. The priest stepped backwards crossing himself.

“The blessing, old fool! Give them the blessing!” King Duke Oskar ordered.

The priest stumbled through the blessing for the newly-weds and the congregation before giving the dismissal.

“Thank you,” King Duke Oskar said. “You two. Come here!”

He grabbed the crown from Petra’s cushion and pushed it into my hands.

“Madeleine, new wife, please kneel before your King.”

He pointed to where he wanted her to kneel, sideways on to the congregation. At least he was polite to her. The priest was still worried and had retreated behind the altar.

“Yes, King Oskar,” Madeleine replied. She knelt.

“King Stephen? Madeleine? Repeat after me...”

I stood in front of Madeleine. King Duke Oskar was standing between us and the altar. He dictated the civil wedding vows for both of us to repeat. We did.

“Sarah?” King Duke Oskar called Sarah forwards. She stood with her back to the congregation. Her face was very pale. She wasn’t sure what to make of a long dead King ordering her around.

“You are the governor of this castle. You have witnessed the marriage of these two. Have I complied with the laws of Ruritania?”

Sarah hesitated.

“Have I, woman? If not, what else should I do?”

Sarah swallowed visibly.
“Join their hands together, please, King Oskar?” she said in a quavery voice.

King Oskar grabbed Madeleine’s hand and put it into mine.

“That’s it?” He asked. “We’re done?”

“Yes, King Oskar,” Sarah replied more confidently.

“Then I’ll leave you to sort out the marriage paperwork. I have more important things to do. Madeleine? Take off your tiara. King Stephen? Take that crown and put it on your wife’s head... Not yet! You need to follow my words.”

I lifted the crown above Madeleine’s head.

“I, King Stephen...”

“I, King Stephen,” I repeated.

“Crown you, my wife Madeleine...”

“Crown you, my wife Madeleine...”

“As Queen.”

“As Queen.” I repeated.

“Now put the crown on her head and we’re done.”

I put the crown on Madeleine’s head. As I took my hands away there was a sigh from the congregation. King Oskar stage-whispered “Stand up” to Madeleine. She stood. We turned to face the congregation and the musicians played Ruritania’s national anthem. When it finished I turned to thank King Duke Oskar but he was no longer there.

+++

As Queen Madeleine was having the first dance with her father, my father whispered to me:

“Young Stephen? Why the expletive deleted did you meddle in Ruritania’s internal politics? You know the family’s policy has been to keep a low profile. Now we can’t.”

I talked longer with my father over the next couple of days. He had been receiving frantic emails from our local manager Jakob. Our factories in the capital had been surrounded by cheering locals thanking ‘their’ Stephen. My emails had been leaked and because the internet was now open access in Ruritania they had gone viral. Almost everyone in Ruritania had read my emails and knew what had happened as a result of them.

When my father John had landed at the capital’s airport they had an almost state reception. He was embarrassed. They had travelled in tourist class, the only seats they could get at short notice, and had been met by a brass band, Ruritania’s Foreign Minister and the British Ambassador. Although my father John is a nominal Count in Ruritania, as was my grandfather Alfred, all that had meant so far was a fast passage through customs and immigration, not a formal welcome. They had left the capital in a motorcade preceded by police motorcyclists clearing the way through cheering crowds. About five miles beyond the capital city’s outer limits the motorcade had stopped to let them continue driven by Gregori. During the whole journey to the castle Jakob had been talking to my father about the implications in Ruritania.

I had stopped a revolution. The government had put the troops on high alert, cancelling all leave and training. They had been preparing to put tanks on the capital’s streets and squares. I had stopped all that and turned the revolution into a farce. WTF was I thinking?

I explained that all I was really thinking about were the women at the castle who had been persuaded to support the revolution. They were OUR people, even MY people. They were unhappy. I had thought if I could show them how unprincipled the revolution’s leaders were, they would change their minds. They had accepted that so readily that I thought the rest of Ruritania probably would too, hence my emails recommending open internet access. I had hoped my role would be forgotten as the country’s politicians took credit for solving the problem.

“But you forgot that open internet access means open information. It only took a couple of the people who received your email to circulate it, and every one could read every word. You might at least have written it in English, not in the local language, Stephen.”

“I wanted to recipients to understand what I was saying very accurately,” I retorted.

“They did. So has most of Ruritania. If you were standing for President in next month’s election you’d win by a landslide. When we get back to the capital you’ll have to be very cautious and careful with every word you say or you’ll prejudice the elections.”

“Will I be safe in the British Embassy, Dad?”

“Probably, but you’ll be facing the great and good of Ruritania. You don’t understand yet, do you? In Ruritania you’re more popular than The Beatles ever were. So is King Duke Oskar.”

“Oskar? How?”

“His appearance at your party was videoed and posted on line. A genuine ghostly King? The castle’s website has been crashing hourly as people try to book to stay here. I wouldn’t be surprised if his intervention in your wedding and Madeleine’s coronation doesn’t go viral too. I can see ‘Shut up, old man!’ becoming a catch phrase for years. Gregori told me that some of phrases in your email already are. Which reminds me. You and Madeleine will have to take your crowns to the Embassy. Not your real one. That’s a historic treasure. I’ve asked the castle’s metalworkers to create a replica for you to take with you.”

“I can’t be a King in the capital,” I protested, “I’m only King of this castle.”

“If Ruritania still had Kings, Stephen, you’d be their King. I hope the enthusiasm will fade but the government has arranged for an e***** into the capital and from the Embassy to the airport. You’ll need it or we wouldn’t get through the crowds.”

+++

My father was right. The attitude of the people at the castle towards me had changed. They treated me with extreme deference. There were no more sexual games with enthusiastic help from the local women. My wife Madeleine and my friends still behaved as if I was the Stephen they had always known.

Our wedding night was an anti-climax. We were both tired and drunk. We slept peacefully in each others’ arms as if we were a long-married instead of just-married couple. We were more energetic during Saturday and Sunday nights to compensate for Friday’s quiet. However our parents and friends seemed to be using the dungeon’s facilities extensively. Madeleine and I were just happy to be together as a married couple. We had married. It hadn’t been the quiet ceremony we had intended but being married by a ghost King Duke was certainly different.

+++

As we left the castle on Monday morning I insisted on kissing ALL the women especially Sarah, Petra and Katya. Queen Madeleine kissed all the men. It seemed an anticlimax to climb into Gregori’s crowded people carrier but that soon changed.

Every village and town we passed through was decked in flags. Madeleine and I had to put our crowns on and wave to the crowds. In the first large town that had part of King Duke Oskar’s realm the Mayor and Councillors were standing beside the road. I asked Gregori to stop. Madeleine and I got out and shook hands with the Mayor, his wife and a few other dignitaries. He was about to start on a speech. I cut him short explaining that we had an appointment in the capital that wouldn’t wait. But I thanked him for the thought.

Gregori tried to avoid some towns but our progress was being monitored on the internet. If we took a bypass the start of it was lined with people. Whether we went around or through the town they would see us.

Ten miles from the capital our e***** was waiting. We were able to move slightly faster, sweeping through red traffic lights as Police motorcyclists held up the traffic. We reached the British Embassy ten minutes before the reception was due to start, just long enough for a rush to the toilets.

Madeleine and I had to stand beside the British Ambassador as a long line of Ruritania’s politicians shook our hands. Most said thank you, many of them saying it in English. The last two were the Prime Minister and the Leader of the Opposition. The Prime Minister asked us to wear our crowns. My father brought mine. Madeleine’s mother brought hers.

I put my crown on, took Madeleine’s crown from her mother and put it on Queen Madeleine’s head. Why had they asked us to put our crowns on? They meant nothing in the capital which had never been part of King Oskar’s realm.

The British Ambassador called for silence. The Prime Minister stood on his right, the Leader of the Opposition on his left. Behind them were the Union Jack and two Ruritanian flags.

The Prime Minister gave a short speech thanking me for my services to Ruritania. The Leader of the Opposition gave a similar speech. I was about to reply. An aide standing beside the three men but out of the TV coverage shook his head and held a finger to his lips.

The Prime Minister announced that my unanimous vote of Ruritania’s Parliament... The Leader of the Opposition nodded... I had been made a Duke of Ruritania and my new wife Madeleine was now a Duchess. But he added that in my own Duchy and Castle we were also the King and Queen so we were King Duke Stephen and Queen Duchess Madeleine.

The aide signalled to a brass band outside in the Embassy’s garden. They played Ruritania’s National Anthem followed by God Save The Queen. Once those were ended I walked forward, holding Madeleine’s hand to stand between the Prime Minister and the Leader of the Opposition. The British Ambassador stood aside. I could see that he was worried what I might say. I hadn’t been briefed.

I spoke in the local language thanking Ruritania’s Parliament, people and the two gentlemen beside me for the honour they had given us. We would try to help and support Ruritania and its institutions as my family had already done. But... At this point I thought the Ambassador was going to have a heart attack... I said that the best people to support Ruritania’s government and democracy were the people of Ruritania. There was an election due shortly. The people of Ruritania should see it as a national duty to decide who to vote for and vote. It was important that as many people voted as could. Ruritania would remain strong if the people demonstrated support for its democratic institutions. I ended by quoting from their national anthem ‘Long live Ruritania’.

Off camera I could see the Ambassador wiping his brow with a clean napkin. I hadn’t caused a diplomatic incident.

The gathered dignitaries cheered us. It was a polite cheer unlike the full throated cheers we had received from crowds along the route, but they meant it.

While we drank locally-made champagne substitute and ate nibbles, there were TV screens in various places showing the appearance of King Duke Oskar at our party and our wedding. It was the first time Madeleine and I had seen those recordings. King Duke Oskar appeared almost solid but not quite. When he had held our hands during the wedding his hands had been cold but firm.

We left the embassy, not in Gregori’s people carrier but in three Rolls-Royce cars with outriders. Our progress to the airport went through cheering crowds. The British Ambassador had told my father that our booking on a commercial plane had been replaced by a flight in Ruritania’s state aircraft. We were to be e*****ed out of Ruritania’s air space by four of their Air force fighters but we would be in luxury all the way to landing at London City Airport.

Once we disembarked we were back to normal. Several London Black Cab taxis were waiting to take us home.

Outside Ruritania I was no longer King of the Castle, but my wife and Queen Madeleine was beside me.

The End.