A night in the castle

Yes, there are some amazing futuristic items in this medieval story. The reason is that it's based on a dream. Well, I suppose I could've adapted it to the time-period, but, hey, I didn't. :-)

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A quick look at my watch and I knew I was in trouble. I took up my bike from the ditch and went off in high speed. I pedaled like crazy and almost crashed with a horse as I turned a corner. I saw the castle from a distance, my watch said it was one minute to eight, in one minute the gate would close. ”Shit”, I thought and increased the speed. I stood up on the bike as I climbed the hill towards the gate, I felt blood in my mouth and panted loudly.

Their was a creaking and clatter as the wind-bridge began to rise.
”Hey, stop!” I screamed, ”I’m coming, hello!!!”
I stopped the bike at the edge and whirled up a cloud of dust as I did so. I waived my arms and tried to make myself heard over the loud noise. Then I saw a guard on the high wall, he seemed to have noticed me cause he bent down and shouted something. The bridge stopped and it was silent a short second before it came back down again. Gratefully I biked over it.
”A little late, I think.” A guard commented when I was within the castle and they could rise the wind-bridge for the night.
”It was football and I forgot about the time. Better sneak inside before anyone notice.” I smiled and tried to catch breath.
”Think they already have,” the guard replied, ”weren’t you supposed to meet Old Gretl an hour ago?”
”Shit!” I pulled a grimace and leaned the bike to the wall, ”Shit, shit, shit!”
The guard laughed:
”Have a feeling someone’s in trouble. Again. Have a feeling someone will have a sore bottom tonight.”
The guards laughed behind me as I strolled off.

I cursed the whole way to Old Gretl’s cabin. The old witch lived in the far corner of the castle and once a week I went to her to learn medicine, cooking, general housework and other things that could be in hand when I grew up. Only that I hated it and wanted to practise fencing or play football instead. But like all girls I had no choice, there were certain things a lady was expected to know. I was almost an adult and my father had begun to worry about me, whether he could find a man willing to marry a girl who was more boyish than himself… I on the other hand didn’t worry at all, I wanted to become a knight and as such a husband would only be in the way. What do you mean a girl can’t be a knight? Well, I guess I’ll be the first then.

The corner was pitch dark except the light coming from the open fire in the wall outside Gretl’s house and the light coming from inside the cabin. I knew there was no point to avoid her, to sneak back home instead of facing my trouble, cause it would only catch up on me later.
”Did you win?” a voice croaked from inside.
I’ve always wondered how she could know who was coming, especially since you tried to sneak up as silent you could.
”Er... mm.”
”Good for you. Hope it was worth the delay. So before we begin today’s lesson – which would you prefer?”
Old Gretl appeared in the doorway and in her hands she held a thick kind of a wooden-spatula, a nine-tailed whip and a carpet beater. I hated it when she made me choose, didn’t she understand it was torture to choose the implement that would hurt you? Or maybe she did. I wished she could’ve chosen a normal spatula, though, this one was so thick it would be like being hit with a piece of wood and I could imagine the bruises from only one stroke. Maybe her bad eyes had made her take the wrong one by mistake, but I didn’t want to ask. I didn’t want to hesitate for too long either, maybe she decided to choose herself. The whip on my back or the beater on my bottom? Well, a sore back would restrain the whole of me since each move would hurt, with a sore bottom I at least could use the rest of my body… on the other hand, she didn’t use to apply that many strokes with the whip… but it stings… but so does the beater… would I be able to keep my shirt on? And what about my trousers? Maybe I could…
”Hurry up, little miss, I don’t have whole night.”
”Er…I’ll take that one then.” I mumbled and pointed briefly to the carpet beater.
”Ok, then.” She said and disappeared inside to put back the other items. ”You can pull out a chair and place yourself meanwhile.”

The cabin was so small her foreyard was the actual place to be. There was an old oak table with roughly carved chairs in front of the fireplace. Reluctantly, but still habitually, I pulled out a chair and placed it a bit from the table. I lay down over the seat with my bottom at the edge, my feet touching the ground and my hands grabbing the legs of the chair. I only hoped no kids would be on the roofs nearby playing. I hated to have an audience and since we were outside, even in the furthest, darkest corner, people might pop by. If not now, then perhaps when they’d hear the sounds. Even if I managed not to scream or cry too loud, the high pitched cracks from the beater hitting my bottom might be heard. Especially this time of day when it was naturally silent within the castle.

”Oh, no, little miss, pull down your trousers.”
I quickly tried to come up with something good to say, but Old Gretl forestalled me;
”You’re one hour late. A lady is never, ever, late and it’s my duty to teach you that. Pull down your trousers so I can teach you a proper lesson.”
No point trying to object, I could tell that from her voice. I crawled back a bit on the seat and slowly I undid the knot to my trousers and let them fall down. Since my legs were stretched out and not bent the trousers stayed just under my bottom. I had to pull up my shirt as well after I had crawled back into position. My bottom was bare and ready to receive its lesson.

CRACK
I pulled a grimace and drew air through my gritted teeth. The carpet beater hit my bottom with a crack that echoed between the stone walls and after the short second of numbness an intense sting spread over my buttocks. Gretl gave me a second stroke and it felt like my bottom was on f ire. I bit my lips the hardest I could to prevent from screaming, but couldn’t resist moaning. The third stroke brought tears in my eyes. The beater was the size of my butt, so Gretl just had to apply the strokes to the centre of my bottom to make the whole of it burn. The fourth made me start to cry and strain my muscles in an attempt to ease the pain. I received the fifth with a start and cried hard in my arm as the sixth and last stroke fell.
”Now, I’ll go get the things we need for today’s lesson. Can you please get some water for us.”
Old Gretl disappeared into the cabin. Now I was punished and the real lesson was about to begin, no time for recovering in this house. I knew I had a few minutes before she’d come back so I reached back and held my hot buttocks in my hands, rubbed a little and squeezed to ease the sting. I could already feel criss crossed welts. I pulled up my trousers, at least they were loose fitting, dried my eyes with the back of my hands, grabbed a bucket and went to the well.

My sore bottom throbbed and stung with each step, but I could expect no pity from anyone so I'd better not complain about it. I got the water and when I came back the table was full of herbs, leaves, powder and flowers. Medicine-time, I supposed. Old Gretl already sat and crushed some nuts and I slowly, slowly, lowered myself onto the chair on the other side of the table. My bottom throbbed and burned and I really wanted to stand up, but I knew that would be out of question. I’d just have to deal with this. It used to feel better if I pretended it was a war-wound. I wouldn’t sob or whine if I was wounded on the battlefield, would I.