Lightning flashes illuminating everything with hard blue light for a brief moment. I see Lind beside me in the street, a spectral figure wasted to transparency and radiating a hungry chill.
Cold winter rain beats against the drab cobbles and brick of the street as Lind and I walk into town. She moves elegantly like a dancer. I limp with heavy lurching strides. In the distance a cat yowls angrily.
I am bundled in thick woolens and a long coat of waxed cotton. Even so I feel cold. I would be at home in front of the fire except for Linds needs. She has left it too long, faded too much, she cannot feed herself and so I must accompany her.
She doesn’t feel the cold. The heavy rain passes through her ghostly form. She is barely there. The stylish white raincoat she wears is for show. She tries to maintain some appearance of humanity.
I can feel her hunger and excitement as we enter the Inn. She is reacting to the presence of so many warm vital bodies. Her need spills over to me. My own body responds with a damp ache between my legs. My pale cheeks flush. I feel only a fraction of Linds desire but I am immediately eager.
There is a moment’s silence from the locals as we step inside the tavern. They turn to stare then the babble of music and conversation resumes. We are both known here. I cannot say Lind and I are liked but we are tolerated so long as we are careful not to prey on the residents of this dour settlement. Why would we? They are a miserable lifeless lot. Most of the townsfolk are descendants of those who came here to serve the old master of the castle all those years ago.
The old master is dead, truly dead now. Lind and I reside in that cursed castle. We have no where else to go. A discarded concubine and servant. It is not hard to guess which role each of us had. We have no need of servants or henchmen of our own.
Thankfully this grim corner of the world attracts treasure seekers, scholars and adventurers in droves. They are drawn to the stories of the old master and the creatures that supposedly haunt the marshes and mountains. This has benefited the town which services the needs of these ghoulish tourists. Another reason why the locals tolerate Lind and I.
Rainwater drips from my oilskins pooling around my heavy steel toe boots. I take off the coat and hang it by the tavern door. Linds coat has disappeared.
No one watching Lind will be wondering about her coat. She wears a dress of dark velvet red that clings to her long graceful body showing every curve and peak of her form. There are many clues to her true nature for anyone who looks. She never touches anything, never leaves footprints, her fine blonde hair is never disturbed by the breeze. But no one ever looks beyond her beautiful expressive smile and those intense blue grey eyes.
In contrast to her ethereal beauty I am stooped and mishappen. Barely five feet tall my body is sturdy and strong. My legs are slightly different lengths giving me a limp. My eyes are similarly mismatched one brown one green. My hair is mousy brown chopped into short bangs that cover the old scars at my hairline. No one ever guesses my true age.
A few of the locals nod wary greetings, one even smiles at us but they all stay at a careful distance. They know the icy chill radiating around Lind has nothing to do with the weather outside.
I order two glasses of cheap red wine. We sit at the bar. I will drink both glasses. Lind does not drink wine but we want to blend in and I need the wine to bolster my courage.
I have done this many times but seduction does not come easily to me. Especially not with men. Lind does most of the work just looking the way she does in that red dress. The thin fabric covers her like fluid leaving little to the imagination. Even I find myself watching her.
We sit far enough apart that it appears Lind may be alone. Needless to say none of the taverns regulars will approach her.
There are a group of young men in the corner snug. Loud, a little drunk, dressed in expensive walking clothes. Their bright modern garments look out of place among the rough worn clothes of the townsfolk.
Urged on by his fellows one young man approaches Lind. The man is blandly handsome, clean-cut, well fed, young and strong.
Lind talks to him ignoring his unsubtle gaze on her chest. She compliments his command of the language. She listens with perfectly faked interest to his travellers tales.
I try not to be offended at his dissapointment when Lind introduces me as her friend. She stresses how we do everything together. Everything. She is not subtle. She says she likes to watch.
It is insultingly obvious that the young man has no interest in me. He barely looks at me as he talks to Lind. It’s clear he tolerates my presence only because Lind has invited me over. However I can also see he relishes the chance to boast to his friends about bedding two woman together.
I reach out and rest my hand on his thigh. Lind does the talking. Her low soft voice telling him she wants to see him with me, wants to see him make me come. She tells him graphically want she wants him to do with me. I try to hide my blush. I am glad of the dim lighting.
Lind leans forward as she talks. Her dress gapes baring deep perfect cleavage, silky pale skin, everything exposed to the rigid rose peaks of her nipples. The man barely looks at me even though I am stroking him through his jeans. He can’t pull his gaze from Lind. I don’t blame him.
She sees that I am looking at her as well and she smiles teasingly. I roll my mismatched eyes at her.
The man smirks triumphantly at his friends as the three of us leave together. He is a little surprised when we take him to the castle. I tell him that we are live in servants and that puts him at ease. It is another lie of course. No one willingly works at the castle. I do my work in the basements and cellars that house my sprawling laboratory. Lind joins me there or prowls the battlements at night. The rest of the castle is left to rot.
I lead our guest to the one bedroom we keep presentable.
The man tries to embrace Lind but she avoids him with practiced speed and guides him to me. Any chill he feels at Lind’s closeness can be explained as the drafty stone castle. My body is at least warm. I encourage him to feel me through my sweater. His hands squeeze and cup me. I press myself against him grinding my body to his taller frame. His hand pushes down the back of my pants, his fingers pressing the left between my cheeks.
He reaches for Lind again almost dropping me as I cling to him. Lind pirouettes out of reach laughing. I know she is laughing at me as I cling to the young man as if I am tackling him. I have to laugh myself at how ridiculous I must look. I hide my amusement pressing my face to his chest.
Lind steps back out of range leaning against the cracked plaster wall. Her fingers trail up her thighs drawing the shimmering red fabric of her dress up to expose the dark lace of her stocking tops and the pale naked mound of her sex. She strokes two fingers down between her legs opening herself, revealing the glistening inner flesh only a fraction darker pink than her alabaster skin.
I’ve seen this act many times but for the first time I realise this is as much for me as it is for him. I have to say it works for us both.
She tells him she needs to warm herself up for him while she watches him with me.
I take off my thick woolens my vest and my bra. I feel foolish as I struggle awkwardly out of the cumbersome layers of clothes.
My small wide spaced breasts stand out on my scarred chest. Now I do finally command some of his attention. His hands are hot and clumsy on me. I let him play. He does look curiously at my scars but there are more compelling things to watch: we both steal glances at Lind. In return she watches us keenly as we move to the big canopied bed.
The old mattress creaks as I guide the young man onto his back. I tell him I want to ride him. I am trying to sound seductive but I hear Lind bite back a laugh. My wet lisping voice is really not suited to the part of seductress. Lind stands behind me at the side of the bed. I can see the mans gaze on her even as I straddle him.
This is not good for my ego.
My skirt and underwear are on the floor. I guide his hand between my legs. My smaller hand over his as I show him how to excite me. I can see Lind watching avidly. I like to think she is watching me more than him.
I can see he’s clearly ready. I take him inside me at the same time I reach back and grasp at Linds outstretched hand. The heat between my legs is a contrast to the cold fog sensation of Linds touch. My flesh and blood fingers merge with her ghostly grip.
I may not be the world’s most accomplished lover and I confess I am not entirely focused on the young man beneath me but I have the hard length of his cock gripped within the slick warm sheath of my cunt. I keep him fully within me using my powerful thighs to move back and forth as I concentrate on clenching and unclenching my inner muscles around his organ.
Lind is touching herself as she watches us. One hand against mine the other between her own legs. Thankfully our guest has his gaze directed between Lind’s thighs. He does not see the look on her face. She is trying not to laugh at me.
She tells me that at these moments I have an expression of comically intense concentration. The tip of my pointed tongue peaks out between my thin lips as I focus on controlling the muscles of my sex.
The sight of Lind and I holding hands as my body sheathes him is too much for the young man. He reaches his peak. I feel the energy of his release leaching through me into Lind. Connected by our touch she feeds on him dragging his life force from him through me. I feel a brief moment of ecstasy like a sliver of an orgasm.
In a confusion of sensations he flails out one long arm towards Lind. Perhaps he hopes to pull her to the bed with us. Instead his hand passes uninterrupted through her icy spectral body. She continues to draw the energy from him. He groans with pleasure and sags unconscious to the bed. He is unharmed but utterly exhausted.
I know from my own experience of Lind’s touch that his dreams will be intensely erotic for weeks to come. I will return him to the tavern tomorrow where he will no doubt regale his friends with stories of his night of passion with two woman but his memories of us will blur and merge with his dreams.
I climb awkwardly off him and glare at Lind. The young man held little interest for me but I am aroused and unsatisfied.
“Did you want to finish?” She asks innocently. She reaches out to brush my limp bangs back from my flushed face. Her fingers trace the stitch marks along my hairline. Her touch is warm and solid now with stolen energy. I shiver as her fingers run ticklishly down my chest. She strokes each scar on my patchwork body.
“My poor sweet little Igorina.” She says. “What would I do without you?”
She pushes me unresisting back onto the bed. She is corporeal now a warm lithe body on top of my shorter heavier awkward frame. We make love beside the unconscious body of our guest until the dawn forces us to rest.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/zvplds/threesome_at_the_castle_gothic_horrormffnon_human