Author’s note: this is part seven of Whore’s Voyage. Due to this week’s Wicked Wednesday prompt being a bit obscure for this series…I was going to ignore the prompt. After a severe rewrite, however, this series needed some humour anyway. Thus the point of view of where this story was originally written from has changed, just a bit. The prompt was to write from the perspective of a glass on the table’s edge…well, not sure Viking houses had many glasses, so how about a goblet?…with attitude?
The goblet sat on the table.
It watched, as it always did.
As happened most evenings, Antone had come into the chamber and poured wine into the goblet. He had then grasped it in his gloved hand and, in turn, poured the wine into his own mouth.
The goblet did not understand why Antone simply did not drink straight from the bottle. One less step, it figured, and from what it had seen Antone was all about one less step.
This chamber belonged to Kadlin. The blonde haired buxom Viking woman who had commanded the castle until Antone and his Romans arrived.
At the moment, the goblet watched a grimace cross Kadlin’s face as Antone’s erection pushed into her from behind.
Antone, for an invading Roman, had actually been good to Kadlin. The goblet had sat and listened as Kadlin discussed the situation with one of her friends. The discussion had gone to how a simple blowjob had her boys learning properly again. Then it went further to how much better treatment Kadlin’s sons received when she laid on her back for Antone.
Antone had never mentioned his rank, but he obviously had sway. With Anotone not courting, nor romancing Kadlin at all, it was simply one less step to sex.
Kadlin even said that Antone was a fine lover. However, he was no Alrik. Once Alrik returned and reestablished this point, Kadlin was certain Antone would die. The order of these two evens was in question, though.
Were Antone not good to the boys and a good lay the goblet imagined that Kadlin, herself, would have killed him by now.
Kadlin was not the usual meek female, however. She needed cock. Her discussion had included how even Alrik, as he was leaving, knew this and told her to find a lover before her frustration caused her to take it out on their children. He expected what she would be like without a cock to play with while he was gone and suggested it would not be pleasant. When the discussions turned to this, the horrified look it caused on those she conversed with usually suggested they did not have as liberal views of sex as Kadlin did.
The fact that Kadlin was currently getting fucked by an invading force was, the goblet felt, unpleasant enough. Tonight was not an evening when she seemed to be enjoying the sex.
Another thrust and Antone pulled on her blonde hair.
In a previous life the goblet had memories of pulling hair and fucking lasses. It was something it sorely missed.
The tempo Antone took caused smacking with each violent thrust now as he pile drove the woman into the mattress.
The look on Kadlin’s face, however, suggested boredom. Perhaps she would kill Antone soon. The goblet hoped so as it, too, was getting bored. Much as it enjoyed watching the sex it was hard not being able to join in. It chuckled at the word hard as it crossed its mind…perhaps it was a comedian in that past life.
A roar lept from Antone’s mouth with one final thrust before he tensed in an awkward pose. A pose as though he was trying to push his climax into Kadlin’s lungs from her vagina.
The goblet wanted to write that description down. It became further frustrated with the thought that it could not write.
Antone collapsed onto his side on the bed.
Kadlin rolled her eyes and lowered to her side so she could be cuddled, as was Antone’s tradition.
Soon all were asleep…except the goblet who stared the other direction out the window.
A usual night of heavy misted air as the colder weather approached.
The goblet tensed, sensing something in the distance. Shadows moved down a hill, attempting to sneak in and, considering they were seen by the goblet, obviously failed. It seemed no others saw them, however. The goblet sensed something familiar in the group. Something wicked from that past life was coming. If the goblet was right, soon all would be dead whether Roman or Viking.
Not that it could warn anyone.