King Ludwig’s Revenge

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While vacationing in Bavaria, I visited the famous castles of Germany to include their history in my syllabus for the fall’s European 19th Century History class. While touring Neuschwanstein Castle, I noticed a rare painting of Elisabeth, the Empress of Austria, the famed and jilted lover of King Ludwig. I might as well have been looking in a mirror for Elisabeth and I, Elizabeth Benton, are nearly identical. Always stunned by our uncanny resemblance, I stared at the portrait and heard a man whisper in my ear, “Ah, lovely Elisabeth, you have returned to Neuschwanstein.”

“Excuse me?” I asked turning to the stranger dressed as King Ludwig II, an obvious tour guide at Neuschwanstein castle, the famed home of this eccentric king who died with his lover out of their homosexual shame in the Victorian era.

“Ah, King Ludwig, and how is my sister, Sophie? Hmm? The one you ran off with when you should have been betrothed to me?”

The gorgeous stranger in Victorian royal garb stared with complete astonishment, unable to believe that I knew the story behind all of this.

“Dr. Elizabeth Benton, Historian,” I replied, introducing myself, extending my hand like an American in Europe, hoping to take the shocked look off his face.

“Please to make your acquaintance,” he said, taking my hand and kissing it.

We flirted as the last of the tourists left the castle for the day. When the doors were closed, he led me to the Swan Grotto, a place that is closed off to the public and what was known as Ludwig’s favorite place to relax in his castle.
“This grotto was made out of love for Wagner,” he said, taking a torch and leading me into the cave with the sculpture of the swan and lit the candles about us.

In the dim light, I watched as he reached behind the swan and pulled out a duffel bag. From it he handed me a bottle of wine, two glasses, and a basket that had cheese and bread in it. I held these treasures while he spread out a flannel blanket on the cave floor.

“Come, Elisabeth, dearest Dove, come sit with your lover.”

“If I was your lover, then why then did you marry my sister?” I asked, kneeling at his side.

“After the fiasco with the commoner, the one who stole into your bedroom? How could I have married you? Knowing all that I had taught you of the fine art of love making, you wasted upon him?” he asked, pouring the wine and reclining on the blanket still dressed as King Ludwig and playing the part to the extreme. I felt out of place there with him in 19th century garb while I was still clad in blue jeans and a camp shirt.

“Well, I . . . but you always wanted Sophie, even if you didn’t appreciate her youthfulness.” I sipped my wine while he cut a slice of cheese with his knife then fed it to me.

“No matter, dearest Dove, I have you now and that’s all that matters to me.”

“It does?”

“Indeed. Now then, disrobe for your king.”

“Disrobe?”

“Enough of the games, Elisabeth. Stand up and show me your splendor.”

Suspiciously, I watched him and drank some more wine.

“Getting up the nerve, are you? Come Empress, the sooner you do it, the sooner I can make you my queen, if only for the night.”

There was something magical about him. The ebony hair in wavy locks, the gilded clothes and smug smile, oh, he truly had the smugness and the spontaneity çıtır escort of Ludwig. I began to unbutton my shirt, admitting to myself that I had fantasized what it must have been like to make love to Ludwig, the wild and eccentric young king, the very same incurable romantic who loved Wagner and musicians. From reading his epistolary to Elisabeth, I knew that was what drew him to Sophie’s bosom. She could sing opera whereas I couldn’t . . . rather, Elisabeth couldn’t carry a tune to save her soul.

“Your soul doesn’t need saving, Elisabeth,” his beautiful brown eyes read as I removed my shirt, exposing him to the satin white bra. I unbuttoned my jeans and slid them down my legs to my ankles. His hands were at work on my laced Reeboks and had them off in a moment with my socks and jeans while he analyzed each of my feet. When he stared up at me, Ludwig saw that I was still covered by a satin bra and a thong.

“Your king is waiting,” he said to me. “Come, Elisabeth, show me your splendor.”

I did as he bade and my bra fell down onto the blanket between my feet and him. He picked it up and put it to his face then peered up at my perfect bosom.

“And?” he asked forcing me to remove the thong so it fell down to ring about my feet. He reached for my hand, helping me to recline before him on the blanket then fed me yet another piece of cheese, before handing me the glass of wine. When I reached for it, he purposefully spilt it on my breasts.

“Tsk tsk, a pity to waste good German wine,” he said, moving over me so that I laid flat on my back. His rosy soft lips kissed away the wine as his tongue darted between my breasts, lapping up every droplet while spilling even more wine and cleansing them with his mouth. My hands couldn’t help caressing his arm, draped in that velvet, as the warmth of him in his costume blocked the chilly air from my exposed skin there in the cave. The king positioned himself over me, moving lower with each kiss, teasing my belly taut with his gentle breath as his fingers kneaded my breasts like proofed dough for the baking.

“Oh, Ludwig,” I sighed, “Dearest Ludwig, please, take me.”

“Why? After you slept with that commoner, Franz was it?”

“Hanz, you know it was Hanz!”

“Yes, well, nice of my guards to end his savage behavior of sneaking into the Empress’ room, now wasn’t it?”

“But I loved him, Ludwig.”

“I loved you more, dearest dove. Tonight, I will show you how I loved you, I will remind you of the torment you inflicted upon my heart when I knew you were with another. Another not worthy of the beauty of my dearest Dove.”

I felt penitent even though I had done nothing at all, desiring to please him as if to make up for a sin. His fingers traveled down my belly with his eyes watching for my reaction when he stroked the fur of my sex like a sleeping kitten. All too weird for me, I knew that I should dress immediately, but something kept me there like I was in a trance, unable to escape him. I sucked in quick breaths of anticipation as his hands parted my legs and brought my knees into the air while my feet set on the cold ground of the grotto. Ludwig’s mouth teased my belly making it taut as he nibbled down my quivering skin. With my hair splayed about me like Brunnhilde in the wind, and restraining my hands that wanted to tear off escort demetevler his crushed velvet tunic and touch his skin as he teased me with his mouth. I raised my hips to invite his tongue within, the same tongue that ravished my breasts. When he plunged it within me, I sighed in delight. His passionate play between my parted legs had me so distracted that I didn’t hear a stranger approach.

“Ludwig, I see you found Elisabeth,” said the man standing over my head in like garb, startling me so I almost stood up. Ludwig’s hand on my stomach told me to relax, so I lowered myself again.

“Max, welcome, the Empress was eager to please me tonight.”

“Some things never change with whores.”
Ludwig left me there and stood up to greet Count Maxamillion. I expected a handshake, a high five, something out of character even, but what I didn’t expect was for Ludwig to embrace Max and kiss him deeply on the mouth.

“She still tastes so sweet, after all these years.”

“Indeed, I taste her nectar upon you. She most certainly does.”

This was all too weird for me, so I started to get up and reach for my clothes.

“Oh, no, dearest Dove, you must stay. You cannot leave now. We’ve waited centuries now to deal with you.”

“But, I’m not Elisabeth, not really.”

“Oh, but you are, dove, you are her. You took off your clothes in record time, you laid down on the blanket and let me have my way with you, just like you did with Franz.”

”Hanz!” I exclaimed.

“Oh yes, the commoner,” said Max. “On your feet, Elisabeth.”

Max sat on the rock near the swan as I stood between the two of them.

“The king has appointed me to deal with you,” he said, taking me by the arm and leading me over his lap. Harshly he spanked me as I squirmed wanting escape but Max held me down with his hand about my waist as his other reddened my once pale ass. I sniveled and begged to be released while Ludwig stood before my face and picked it up to examine it.

“Max, enough.”

The count stopped the spanking, and Ludwig wiped my tears away with his thumbs before removing his tights, extending to me his helmeted member then directing it into my mouth. His fingers gripped my scalp and pressed me further and further down his shaft so that its tip touched the back of my throat with each thrust.

“She wants commoners, Max. What is a king to do?”

“Treat her like a common whore, but of course.”
For some reason, I was enjoying this perverted game. To them, I was an empress and to me, they were a king and a count. They spoke about me as if I wasn’t there, like patronizing a naughty child, and I was enjoying every moment of it. I felt Max’s fingers in my wet snatch, and felt a twinge when he pinched my clit in efforts to raise my awareness of his small fingers and their agility.

“She’s quite ready, my King,” said Max.

“Truly she is? Is that so, Elisabeth, are you ready for me?”

I nodded eagerly.

“Good, then place yourself back on the blanket. Right where you were will do.”

I removed his deliciously hot pole from my mouth, anticipating its entry into my inviting sex.
My hands wrung my nipples; I waited for him to take his place between my parted legs. Instead, Max stood up and removed his tights. He bent over the rock and Ludwig escort dikmen quickly penetrated his lover there before me. I had never seen anything like it and was appalled that after all I had done with him that day, the games I played, and the spanking, that he stood there and banged Max, not me. I rose to gather my clothes again. Ludwig pressed himself deep into Max and the younger man cringed.

“I said to lie on the blanket. I’m not through with you, Elisabeth.”

“I will not lie here and watch you . . . watch you . . . “

“Fuck him?” asked Max. “You could only wish, Empress, you could only wish.”

“What did you do under my eyes? Did you think I didn’t know what you did with your farm boy? Well? Did you? This, dearest Elisabeth, you will endure. You will watch and I will take great pleasure in the hatred that will burn deep within your soul,” he said, screwing Max harder.
Max gripped onto the rock, holding himself steady as I watched Ludwig push more and more of himself into Max’s dark hole. When his pace quickened, I could tell that Ludwig was near completion; he reached for Max’s shoulders and pulled him upright as he pushed himself completely into Max. I could hear Max gasp as he did this and puff even more as the King pulled his flaccid member out.

“There, Elisabeth, it’s done.”

”Are you pleased with yourself?”

“No, not at all. We’re still not finished with you. Max, show her what its like to receive a royal fuck.”

I expected from his small hands that Max would not be endowed as well as he was with that fat cock. Ludwig grabbed me up and forced me over the rock, spreading my legs so that my sex was widely available. While Ludwig held me down with his hand in the small of my back, I heard the ripping of plastic the insertion of a rubber upon that fat cock that soon probed for his entry. The moment Max entered me, he grabbed my hair and began to thrust into me wildly, scraping the skin of my breasts against that sandstone. Ludwig moved so he could see my face, watch Max and most of all taunt me about this fuck.

“Dearest Dove, do you miss my cock? Do you miss its length and how it fit perfectly into your little cunt? Max’s fat one, doesn’t fit you well, I see it in your face. That’s too bad, you were a very naughty girl. Bad little empresses die like spinsters, Elisabeth. Never fulfilled, never a happily ever after. Your skin will be all scraped up from this venture, burned from the sandstone. You will remember this for years, even though the burns will be gone in a fortnight.”

Max grunted and pulled me against him as he yanked on my hair and thrusted himself harder and harder into me. I could barely stand the friction of my front or the stinging sensation of his legs smacking my reddened rear as he wildly fucked me. My hands wrenched against the stone, scraping my knuckles as I exploded in orgasm. The count thrusted deeper than before, then quickly pulled himself from me so that my juices soaked my inner thighs that still stung from his spanking.

Ludwig was pleased. He lifted me from my ‘Rock of Shame,’ as he called it, and set me back on the blanket. I reclined there still naked as they took turns feeding me, one on each side, teasing my tits with their mouths, suckling a nipple between sips of wine or nibbles of cheese. The night sky shone with bright stars as I dressed. The king and his count led me to the gate of Neuschwanstein, and at the fountain I bid them a good night.

“Good night, Elisabeth. I hope it was all you dreamed of.”

“It was, Ludwig, and more!” I replied, kissing him once more and then Max. “Auf Weidersehen!”

THE END

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