Bodice Ripper

Written by: Phoebus

Once a Knight...

Bodice ripper. 

Or how men got what they wanted, once upon a time. (Very PC  - NOT!!!) 

"In days of old when Knights were bold, and journeyed from the castle,
trusty men were left behind, knights needed not the hassle. They helped 
themselves to pig and peach, and drink from the kings own chalice. Ah, 
it was a stirring sight, these gypsies in the palace." 

- Jimmy Buffet 

The noise in the great hall had gone quiet. All was still to her ear.
The ones left behind had finally debauched themselves to a stupor. Just 
as well she thought. Morning is nigh and there's much work to be done.  
With that she arose from her bed and began to dress for her day. 

When she was done dressing, she went out into the corridor and roused
the other women of the palace. 

"C'mon you layabouts" She commanded, "There's work to had!" 

Hearing no sounds, she drew back the tapestry to one of the cells, to
her horror the bed was not slept in. Checking the rest she found them 
in similar states. 

So my maids are no longer maidens eh, she thought. 

She turned to go to the great hall but was pulled up short by one of the
minders. He was a tall scruffy sort, unshaved and and unwashed. His 
eyes were blood shot and sunk deep into his head. He was generally a 
disreputable looking fellow. 

"we missed you, m'lady." 

"Fie", she replied, " You're all for the debauch and for draining your
mead. I'll have none of that" 

"is that so, well your scullery maids seemed to have much of it", he
replied moving closer to her. 

"aye, and there'll be hell to pay for it", she stepped back slightly. 

"why so", His eyes bored in on her. 

"Sir, you impose upon me" She whispered 

He managed to block her exit from the corridor, and with the court gone,
she was dependent upon this man's honor, such as it was, for her 
protection. 

She folded her arms across her body in defiance of him. Only thing this
did was to uplift her ample bosom,presenting more cleavage to his 
lascivious eye. 

"M'lady should not tease me with her charms so...", he mockingly
ventured 

"Sir, you should take care with whom you jest." 

"I am quite serious", he replied, trapping her in in a dark corner. 

She could smell his breath, last night's meal, mead and God knows what
else. His skin was dark and oily, a fetid aroma surrounded him. His 
eyes, God his eyes just bored into hers. 

Seeking, but not finding a hint of acceptance. This one would not be
swayed, he thought. His hand ventured to cup her left bosom. 

He was rewarded with a slap to his left side. And no caress here. His
ear rang, his skin stung. 

"You'll not do that again", he whispered. 

"Sir, you'll not touch me like that", she replied. 



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