Follow Gretchen to the castle

The gong sounds, and Gretchen struggles to pick up her carrying pole. Shouldering her apple baskets, Gretchen turns away and hurries down the path her father took. Her golden hair flashes in the light of the early afternoon sun, and her skirts flow round her strong legs. She walks round a tree and disappears behind a little rise in the ground.

You take a deep breath and try to compose yourself. Chanting a quiet verse from your martial arts meditations, you calm and center yourself. Your unruly cock softens, and you let some of your tension go. Feeling more like yourself, you prepare to approach the castle. You bundle up your sword in your cloak and re-arrange your clothes to look more like a simple traveler through the world of Hallow Bastion. Then you take the path after Gretchen.

The path winds through the trees and round low bushes, finally approaching the castle along a dry stream. You hear moaning, laughing, and the occasional shout as you approach. Suddenly you walk up the stream bank and you're in the midst of it.

Next to a banner with a flag for Gretchen's village, there is a platform of split logs piled high with are offerings of food and drink. Gretchen's baskets of apples are there among others, her father's bag of bread, barrels of salt and flour, kegs of beer and wheels of cheese. It looks like quite a bit.

Nearby is a fire with a kettle of soup hanging over it from a teepee stand. Next is a circle of flat ground covered with a layer of fresh-cut, sweet hay grass. Aside from a couple of oldsters standing round the fire, it looks like Gretchen's whole village is rolling around with each other on the hay. As you look over the rutting villagers, it seems to you that they're trying really hard to make a big production out of sex. The men are grunting and groaning loudly and fucking with long hard strokes, and the women are moaning and crying out. After half a minute, you can see that all the couples' heads are facing toward the center, and they're all trying to keep to a rhythm where one couple follows the motions of their neighbor to the left. You can see a wave of thrusts going round and round the circle, round and round...

As you watch, you find you've wandered close to the circle. A few people have fallen down to the hay without partners, and they move almost like doing a push-up when the wave of thrusting goes by. Between waves, they wiggle and rub themselves against the ground.

You hear the rumbling of wooden cart wheels behind you, approaching the food offerings, but somehow you can't make yourself turn around and look. Someone laughs from the cart, a cruel sound. A sharp, gruff command cuts off the laugh.

Your nose catches a hint of the musky scents of sweat and sex.

The gong sounds, loud in your ears, and your resistance crumbles. A shout goes up from the villagers. You think you hear Gretchen's voice crying out among them, and you yank open your clothes even as you step forward, trying to find her.

You look round the circle of half-naked, fucking villagers. Mostly it's men and women together in fairly ordinary positions, with the man lying atop the woman or kneeling behind her. But there are a few twos and threes performing acts you thought were far beyond taboo for people like these.

Right in front of you, there's a young man kneeling behind a stout woman who's rather older than him, her bright patchwork skirt flipped up to her waist. As the waves of thrusting go round the circle, his timing gets more and more ragged, his shouts get hoarser, and his last thrusts are hard and fast, slapping ripples into her round buttocks as he yells out his orgasm. He pulls back, panting and moaning, and rubs his sweaty forehead.

"Good 'prentice!" the woman says, "Get me another man till you're ready again."

The young man looks up and sees you standing two paces away. With a willing woman in front of you and the gong's vibrations still buzzing in your head, you let him guide you down to a kneeling position behind her. Your cock twitches with a mind of his own, and you're deep into her warm, wet cunt. You raise your hands to push her away, but they curl round her soft, ample waist and hold on tight as you pick up the rhythm.

It feels good. It feels very good, like it's been a long time. You smile as you watch the woman pushing back into you, her soft buttocks jiggling. You feel full of energy, like you could do this for hours.

"John!" Gretchen cries.

You have a vague notion that you should pay attention, but you can't quite figure out why.

"John, help me!" Gretchen cries.

You foggily look up and see an armored soldier, his face hidden by a closed helmet, dragging Gretchen toward the cart. Her father seems to be pleading with him, but a kick to the leg drops him to the dirt.

A wave of thrusts snaps your attention to your warm, lush, enthusiastic partner. You have to finish...it could take hours...but Gretchen...!