Stay in your room until afternoon
From Create Your Own Story
You don't really feel like seeing anyone just now, so you return to your warm bed and curl up with your favourite story, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. You love it so much that as an extra-special gift for your last birthday, your parents had a copy made just for you.
You have a fertile imagination: you've always been enraptured by tales of chivalry and romance. Since you were a small child, you've dreamed of marrying a righteous, brave and gentle knight who would carry you away to a castle surrounded by beautiful gardens and make you happy for the rest of your days. Instead, you think bitterly, in a few short weeks you will be forced to surrender your precious maidenhood to your tormentor, Prince Turnipbreath, who couldn't be any more different from the heroes in the stories and songs. Such is the lot of a princess. You know you must do your duty and honour your parents' wishes, but nonetheless you earnestly pray that you might somehow escape such a cruel fate, as even the Lord did in the Garden of Gethsemane.
As you read, for the hundredth time, through the Lady's temptation of the story's hero, you absentmindedly slip a hand beneath your skirts, lightly rubbing up and down the smooth crease between your thighs. Why could you not have been promised to a knight like Sir Gawain, who treats his host's lady so finely? Your pulse quickens and your breathing becomes more ragged. You sink a finger between your lips, and feeling the hot juices of your arousal, you realize with a guilty start what you're doing.
Suddenly, you hear the sound of footsteps bounding up the stairs towards your room. Quickly you withdraw your hand from your slick pussy, wiping it hastily on your bedspread.
You recognize the elderly servant, who was your nanny as a child, as she rushes into the room, not bothering to knock.
"Where have you been all morning, princess? Your lord father arrived from Prag hours ago, and we didn't see you at Mass!"
You realize with a surge of shame that you had forgotten that your father would be home today. He was away for a month at the Emperor's palace and you missed him so, but lately you've been so preoccupied with your own problems that you've hardly spared a thought for anyone else - even God. At the realization, you choke on your breath and start to cry.
You feel the old woman wrap her arms around you and gently pull you into her breast, as you whimper and tears trickle down your cheeks.
"There, there, sweet child. These are hard times for us all. Why don't you tell me what's troubling you?"
You:
