Dairihill part 3

Dairihill and I left the Countess's bedchamber and she swiftly led me down the route we hadn't taken earlier. It wound downward, deep into the rock on which the Castle stood, surely, and finally ended in a sturdy door. From her keychain she singled out a non-descript key and unlocked the door. The bolt clunked heavily and the door creaked open.

A short, rough-hewn passage rounded a corner to reveal a vast cavern. And a ship!

"Dunbarrow Cove!" I realized. The fabled site of a sea battle that culminated in a ship being buried under rock. It is a somewhat far-fetched story (1 2 3 4) when one hears of it, but it is nevertheless true. I was surprised that the ship was so well preserved. Some crystals giving off enchanted light were placed at strategic locations, lighting junctions on various paths.

"Yes. When the Count hadn't yet disappeared, he made sure this cave was properly cleared of vermin and the ship refurbished into living quarters as a kind of secret private retreat," Dairihill explained. "Only I and the Count and Countess's bodyguards know of this secret location. As I am entrusted to dust it now and again and check for water damage, I am one of the few to have a key. The Countess never comes here now that the Count has gone missing."

We walked once around the tidied-up wreck and then off a platform and onto the deck.

"How do you know I'm not a pirate? A dangerous rogue. And you, all alone with me."

"But... but you're not. Carahil wouldn't have written that..."

Her words trailed off when she saw my predatory smirk.

"You said yourself that this is a secret place. No one knows where we are. Do they?"

"...no... They don't."

I smiled and took her hand, leading her up the deck toward the black flag.

"Imagine... lusty pirates used to command this ship. Pirates that pillaged. And raped."

Darihill nodded slowly. She stared at the flag, afraid to look at me.

"...Ruthless men," I whispered into her pointy elven ear. "Ravishing delicious women. Just like you."

I gave her a playful nip on her earlobe with my lips.

Darihill bit her lower lip and let out a little whimper. Her breathing came in quick gasps, heaving her breasts to strain tantalizingly at the green fabric.

I suddenly grabbed her by her wrists, making her start. She reflexively pulled away, but stopped, and locked her wet black eyes with mine. They trembled with fear and anticipation.

I kissed her hard on the lips and she pressed back. I bit her lustily on her neck, and she moaned. I twisted one of her arms behind her back and forced her to her knees. She cried out, but did not struggle. I grabbed a fistful of her soft hair and pressed her head against the cold, damp, planks. My other hand worked her bothersome green skirt and grappled with her underthings to get them out of the way.

Beneath the skull and crossbones, I plundered her body for pleasure.


Dairihill, Steward of Castle Anvil by Fantasy_Art

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