“Are you sure you’re awake enough to walk?” he asked.
“Possibly not, but I’ll manage.”
She crawled to the edge of the mat then stood and took the few steps necessary to reach her clothing. Jairus decided she was serious, so jumped up and got dressed himself. He wanted to escort her back to the chapel house, and he needed to clean up here so there was no sign of what they’d been doing. He also had a report to write about turning these two rooms into a center for the banquet, but that could wait until tomorrow. And there was the ongoing nagging worry about the trip he had to take with the Alpha soon. What the fuck was that about?
* * * *
By the time Monday dawned, Damask was really looking forward to her day out. She loved working in the candy store with the constant stream of people oohing and aahing over the treats there. Piotr was a wonderful boss, who never seemed angry or flustered. Not that she’d ever worked before, to have other supervisors to compare him with, but she’d heard plenty of stories from her friends over the years and she’d seen a couple of spectacular meltdowns of people in high school as well.
Her workday was long and full-on with constant movement and tasks to do, and instead of resting in her lunch breaks she was spending all that time, and her evenings as well, with Jairus and Grigori. That was no hardship either, she loved being with them, but the idea of an entire day all to themselves was wonderful. She wasn’t sure how Grigori had managed to get the day off, but guessed there must be other IT specialists in the castle as well as him.
Jairus had promised to bring them a nice lunch, and also to bring a notebook and pen so they could start thinking about writing their ballad. Damask already had the outline of a tune in her mind, but until the lute arrived she didn’t know if it would work. The tune needed to be simple enough that she could concentrate on the words, yet still engage the listeners. Her plan was that it would start in a low key and gradually, with key changes, progress up the scale a distance. She hoped that would add a bit of an extra feature to the melody.
She shoved her hair back in a ponytail, slid her ID card and her cell phone in her jeans pocket, and was ready. It was not eight o’clock yet, so she went into the kitchen and toasted herself some bread for breakfast. She’d been more interested in sleeping in this morning, than in allowing time for breakfast, but she’d managed to do both, which was good.
She raced back to the bathroom to brush her teeth, and was just leaving the chapel house as she saw Grigori and Jairus walking across the inner courtyard from the castle itself. Both were wearing backpacks so she guessed that was their food and perhaps a blanket or something to sit on. Maybe condoms and lube as well if she was a lucky woman today.
The track to the orchards was almost straight up the mountain behind the castle. The road only went as far as the castle, but there was a walking track beside the moat, mainly so tourists could take pictures of the castle. Once the track ended, Jairus led them among the trees and they began walking steadily uphill. At this level, Damask supposed plenty of tourists might wander around, although if they walked the full tour of the castle they shouldn’t need any more exercise. But she supposed curiosity would encourage some people to look around the neighborhood.
After walking for ten minutes they came to a simple wire fence. Grigori held up the middle strand of wire, and stood on the bottom one, making a space for her to climb through. Jairus followed her then held the wire for Grigori. There were trees in rows here, but she had no idea what they were, and they didn’t have fruit on them, so she silently followed Grigori, who was in front now.
He wended his way up and across the rows of trees, moving steadily up the mountain until they came to a gate in a higher, more rigorous-looking fence. “Well done finding the gate. I’m sure I wouldn’t have arrived at it so easily,” said Jairus.
“It’s been a while for me, too,” replied Grigori, taking a key from his pocket and unlocking the gate. As soon as they’d passed through he locked it again.
Once again Grigori led them down one row of trees and across to another. As they walked Damask recognized rows of apple and pear trees, then a group of very old walnut trees. There were some others she didn’t recognize, and then they came to orange trees, cherry trees, and plum trees, and finally grapevines. Once out from among the trees she could see the vines were at the top of the mountain, and from here they had a view in all directions.
Jairus pointed to more orchards to their right, and the castle itself was behind them. From here Damask could see tiny dots moving in the inner courtyard. That would be the crowd of people. She stood and watched everything for a while then moved back to the edge of the trees where Jairus had spread a rug and both men had left their backpacks.
She sat on the rug and looked at both men. “What do you want to do first?” asked Grigori.
“I’d like to see you in your wolf form. I know what you are and did see my father transformed occasionally, but I want to be able to recognize you, to fully understand you. I think if my father had just explained himself to my mother first, they wouldn’t have had so much trouble.”
Both men moved back under the trees, even though there was no one around and certainly no one from the castle could have seen them from this distance. Jairus dropped his clothes where he stood, but Grigori rolled his into a bundle and tossed them onto the rug. Her father had very seldom transformed when she was around, possibly out of deference for her mother. Occasionally she saw him coming or going from a run though, so she was used to the innate power in the wolf form—the muscular body, and sturdy legs. The swishing tail.
To her relief Jairus and Grigori were quite different. She’d have no trouble knowing which one was which, or who they were in a pack. Grigori’s coat and eyes were darker than Jairus’s. His body was bigger and more muscular, and his tail was longer.
It was Jairus who came across to her first and whined. She stroked his fur, marveling at how soft it was, then teased his ears. He rubbed his muzzle on her thigh and smiled at her. Grigori came to her then and she petted him, too. They rested on the rug with her for a while, and she scanned their bodies until she was certain she’d always know them.
“If you want to run around that’s fine by me. I’m happy sitting here.”
Yet once again they showed their thoughtfulness and care for her. When they both ran around among the trees they were never far away from her. Then Grigori raced away across the plateau and down into the trees on the other side, while Jairus stayed close to her. Maybe five minutes later Grigori was back and Jairus departed on a run. Grigori transformed again and got dressed, then dropped to the rug at her side.
“I’m sure I’m quite safe here. I don’t imagine any casual walkers would come this far. Too many fences to climb.”
“There’s always the risk that people will come to steal our fruit, but these days our pickers are circumspect about when they go to harvest, leaving before the first tourists arrive in the morning and not returning with the crop until after they’ve left. They pick into baskets and after all the tourists are gone they load their baskets onto their backs and walk down to the castle.”
“Wow, that sounds like the way they used to pick in medieval days. I suppose it’s impossible to use more technology on the side of a mountain like this. Or not unless the pack built a road up here first.”
“Exactly. And building a road would imply there was something worth coming up here to find. The young men are quite capable of carrying a basket of fruit back to the castle.”
Damask sat back on the rug and enjoyed the clean fresh air and her day off work. It was strange. Up until recently she’d craved a job or the ability to study some subjects at college. All her days had been free apart from having a few chores to do. Now she had a job and she loved working. But only now did she also appreciate having the freedom to do nothing. Before she came to the castle doing nothing specific had been a burden not a gift.
Jairus rejoined them and got dressed. She’d watched both men transform, relieved it was all over very quickly with just a shimmering in the air and that it didn’t seem to cause them pain. She’d wondered sometimes if her father never transformed in her presence because of her mother’s objections, or for modesty, or because it was painful and he didn’t want her to see him being hurt. So that was the worst reason crossed off her list.
They settled on the rug and talked about writing the ballad. Damask asked a lot of questions about the earliest days of the castle and they began to plan some lines of the song. “The refrain will be the most important part. It has to be exciting and something the listeners will relate to, but it can’t actually spoil the story or there will be no reason for anyone to listen to the rest of it.”
“Leave that for later. You wanted to start at the beginning so you need to have the werewolves chased out of their former home, persecuted even though they’re nice people and building their castle for refuge,” said Jairus.
“Then we get the bad werewolf leader and need some scary stuff about him, to make the dungeons realistic. That might end up as the refrain,” said Damask.
“Don’t forget the fire arrows and the couple of genuine attacks on the castle,” added Grigori.
“Did the bad guy see the light and change his ways or did he get killed in an attack? Being burned to death would be a bit gruesome, but we could probably word it in an exciting but still suitable-for-children way.”
“The bad guy didn’t exist,” said Jairus.
“Yes, but what do the tourist guides say? How do they say he died?” she asked.
“I don’t think it’s ever mentioned. We could check up though. Our stories should match.” Jairus made a note to follow that up.
“Once the ballad is written and approved then polished so the music is right and everything, we could give the tourist guides each a copy so they can add anything they want into the information they tell the guests.” Damask was excited at the thought of doing something else useful and helpful for the people at the castle.
“Let’s not stop there. We could print them up and make them into a scroll and sell them in the gift shop as well along with the postcards and so on,” said Grigori.
“And the fake werewolf teeth,” Damask giggled. They were a lurid yellow candy with red at the tips of the fangs and kids bought them by the dozen from the candy store.
Soon they were laughing and giggling over absurdities, and no more real work was done for a while. The men opened their backpacks and brought out the food Jairus had purchased for them in the town. It was real twenty-first century food. Although the castle sold burgers and fries, a lot of the meals they ate were at least semi-medieval as the chef was always testing new recipes or else there were leftovers from the day’s menu. Damask knew that many of the werewolf families with their own apartments did all their own cooking. However, mostly the single people preferred to buy their meals from the castle kitchens and it was the chef who provided Damask and the other women workers’ evening meal.
After lunch they lay back on the rug and talked about themselves and their lives. Damask really enjoyed hearing about some of the places Jairus had traveled, although he never said who he’d been visiting or why. His only comment was that many of the young wolves were studying at various universities around Europe.
Then the two men sat up straighter and Jairus said, “Are you ready to play a BDSM scene with us now?”
Suddenly her belly was clenching with need, her panties were damp with the cream from her pussy, and her chest was tight from lack of breath. “Yes. Yes I am.”
* * * *
Jairus and Grigori had discussed the scene together, thinking most likely Damask would agree to play with them. The problem was, they couldn’t take an entire toy box of equipment with them, yet they did want to introduce her to a variety of experiences.
She’d responded brilliantly to the few things they’d tried with her, but it was time to show her some of their favorite restraints and toys.
“It’s time for you to get undressed,” Grigori said.
She looked around, as if she hadn’t been looking around her ever since they’d arrived, hours ago, then stepped under the trees, deeper into the shadows, before undressing and piling her clothes neatly on top of her shoes.
Jairus pulled a long length of rope from his backpack. He ran the rope through his hands, noticing how Damask watched him play with it. When she licked her lips he hid a smile.
Oh yes, she’s ready for this.
“Have you ever hugged a tree, Damask?” asked Grigori.
“I thought that was just a saying.”
“No. Right now I want you to go hug that tree.” Jairus pointed a tree that had a long bare trunk, perfect for tying her against with no low branches to interfere in their fun.
Damask placed her body against the tree and wrapped her arms around it.
“Get closer. Spread your legs,” ordered Grigori.
She wiggled into place and Jairus wrapped the rope around her waist and around the tree, passing it to Grigori who stood on the opposite side of the tree from him. Soon they had her trussed up tightly and Jairus tied her wrists together as well. There was plenty of rope left unused and he swung it through the air so Damask could hear the noise made even though she was too tightly tied to the tree to see what he was doing.