Christmas at Blackthorn Castle

Crown rack of spring lamb with rosemary and oregano 

The photo: A crown rack of lamb that will melt in your mouth! It’s something that Mrs. Bridges has made the castle’s kitchen famous for.

Christmas at the castle: Christmas day dawned cold with temps in the high 30s (F) with heavy rain almost all day. Fortunately none of us had to go outside unless we wanted to. We have a lovely fifteen foot spruce as a Christmas tree decorated with ornaments handed down from earlier holders of the title augmented down through the years. The lights are new, but the rest is very traditional. Presents were exchanged before breakfast. Though there are no children present Bea at eighteen the youngest girl present seemed almost as excited as I remember being when I was six, the Christmas before my mother died. This year I got lingerie (The giver looks forward to watching me take it off or ripping it off me himself.), perfume and gift certificates to Freed and Gaynor Minden as well as a lovely amethyst (my birthstone) necklace. Marvin gave me a special gift I had been looking for seemingly for ages, but hadn’t been able to find. I’m going to write about that in a separate post.

For the most part I gave practical token but useful fun gifts; razors (beard burn on breasts can be very annoying), condoms and Viagra for the men and Caya diaphragms, spermicide, EllaOne, remote controlled vibis (by Lelo) to be worn in the vagina and toe pads for the women. Caya should be appreciated by men too because the matte textured dome stimulates the glans remarkably and the removal dome can be used by a lover to stimulate the wearer’s G-spot. Just saying…   Later, in a private moment I gave my wards small designer leather bags fitted out and fully equipped as slit-kits.

Menstrual cycle status: Later Christmas morning my wards, their French ballet boyfriends and I took our obligatory ballet and pointe classes to stay flexible for the anticipated ballet and dive-sex. All my wards have frameless, stringless copper bead GyneFix IUDs implanted so they cycle naturally. When I lived in Las Vegas and my wards lived with me they were in menstrual synchrony with me because we sweated so much together that their bodies synched to my pheromones. Now that we live apart Bea and Willow cycle on their own while the Dryads, Bryony and Claire are beginning to sync with my 28 day cycle. Christmas day I was CD14 and ovulated while the Dryads were about CD9 and fertile. Bea and Willow were CD 20 something and luteal.

A first dip in The Wells: The women all followed me down to the shallowest (64 ft.) of the wells. We inserted our latex flat spring diaphragms, used as flood insurance, in case men joined us and wanted dive-sex. But none did as they were glued to the telly binge watching one sport program after another. I had Carla hang a net at 30 feet in the shallow pool as a precaution so if there was an uncontrolled descent the diver wouldn’t fall to the bottom.  

We wore thong bikinis, flippers and swim caps to keep the chemicals out of our hair. Carla checked the fit of our OTS Guardian FFMs and buoyancy compensators with integral weight pockets. She has checked that all the masks were in good repair before we got to the equipment room Willow, Bea and my Guardians have gotten a lot of use but Bryony and Claire just got theirs so they are still getting used to wearing them. One of the nice things is that we can all talk to one another on the comm. units while underwater and we can all hear each other scream, moan, whimper and gasp in orgasm.

Pool temperatures: For Olympic swimming, the Red Cross and FINA (The international governing body of swimming, diving, water polo, synchronized swimming and open water diving), have set the water temperature for competitive swimming between 77° to 82° F (25°-28°C), and 81°F (27°C) for synchronized swimming. Warmer water is less dense and therefore less friction as a swimmers body moves through it. Standard water temperatures ensure that all performances are on a level state of conditions. I have my pools temperatures set at 79° (F) and that is very comfortable. 

Christmas dinner: Dinner on Christmas day for my wards, their boyfriends, Carla my 29 y/o Divemaster and her diver boyfriend, Chris my male Gyn and a ballerina girlfriend and Marvin and I went extremely well. The menu was a typical Christmas feast with turkey and crown rack of spring lamb (for which the castle kitchen is famous) stuffing, mashed potatoes, giblet gravy, candid yams, mince pie and ice cream, coffee and hot or ice tea. And Christmas Crackers in which were small favors for each guest.

Sloe Brandy: After dinner the Barony’s famous (or perhaps a better term is infamous) Sloe brandy was served. It is distilled, aged and bottled at the castle from the fruit of the ubiquitous blackthorn bushes used to hedge fields and roads on the Barony. The fruit, called a "sloe", is a drupe 10–12 millimeters (0.39–0.47 in) in diameter, black with a purple-blue waxy bloom, ripening in autumn, and harvested—traditionally, at least in the UK, in October or November after the first frosts.

Charades: After dinner had settled we played a game of charades using the huge wardrobe of costumes and props that had been accumulated by Edith my predecessor. The subject for the evening was film stars from the 50s to present. The Brits seem to love dressing up especially the men who love mincing about in high heels and womens clothes. I think that must be from the sexually repressive upbringing of all-male schools, corporal punishment and cold showers that warp their sexuality. Fortunately some of them make lovely women (until you get their clothes off) so they can be great fun to play charades with!

I thought standouts in men’s roles were: Marvin who did a marvelous impression of Cary Grant “Judy, Judy, Judy”, and Chris who made an amazing Clark Gable, “Frankly Scarlet, I don’t give a damn.” Go figure!

Among characters from dance films I portrayed during the evening - with the help of Emily, my dresser, who got me in and out of costume and makeup quickly with her skill as a studio costumer and makeup expert - I became: ‘Olympia’ the Moira Shearer role as a mechanical doll that comes to life in The Tales of Hoffmann (1951); the Cyd Charisse role of ‘The Widow’ dressed in black tights, black pointes, black elbow length gloves and a black bustier with circular white breast accent in  the film Black Tights (1961); and The Natalie Portman role as ‘Nina Sayers’ costumed as the Swan Queen in Black Swan (2010). What fun!

 

 

 

The funeral

Frenched and denuded rack of lamb

The Photo: These two full racks of lamb have been frenched down to the eye muscle and denuded, so there is no fat or silver skin left. The bones are completely cleaned, exposing almost their full length, and only a delicate morsel of delicious lamb is left. This elegant cut makes a striking presentation when served as a full rack and sliced at the table. But it’s also perfect for quick grilling; the chops can be eaten out of hand at an outdoor party.

There were 300 guests for the reception. My cook, Mrs. Harris, prepared spring rack of lamb with six ribs per serving for the meal held in the great hall of the castle after the funeral. Doing the math 300 guests x 6 ribs each, that’s 113 lambs, if anyone is counting. The lambs were from the Barony’s flocks which are noted for the sweetness of their meat and sought after by up-market restaurants. All the mourners raved about the meal! As well they should as Mrs. Harris also baked her prize winning strawberry scones!

The Funeral:  I’m very pleased to say that the 22^nd Baroness gave a flawless final performance in a staring role and I thought my social début, in a supporting role as her successor, went quite well. I attribute my nearly flawless performance to the fact that Marvin and I fucked for nearly three hours the night before so that I was still boneless and gasping in afterglow when I fell asleep. I was CD28 on Friday and spotting so had a silicone Milex Omniflex inserted for flow control as I began my period on schedule in spite of all the stress this past cycle.

As predicted the weather was wet in the afternoon with the temperature in the low 40s F, but other than the smell of damp wool clothing in the chapel. The Bishop was generous and brief in his remarks about the life of Edith, 22^nd Baroness Blackthorn. Afterward everyone enjoyed themselves celebrating the life of the late Baroness demonstrated primarily by the speed with which they devoured a fine feast. Mid-afternoon His Grace’s party departed in a light rain as the pilot said the flight controllers told him the weather was good enough for their flight back to Inverness. 

Family matters: Seeing Jack departing with Ashley on his arm and almost certainly pregnant, depressed me a bit, but I’m really fond of Marvin and his sperm viability check has come back saying that he has very high quality sperm so we should be good to start trying for a family. No, I have no intention of getting pregnant. Years ago I had some of my eggs harvested and cryogenically stored so Marvin and I will marry at some point and go the IVF route and have a surrogate carry the baby. I hope this doesn’t sound harsh, but having spent my life up to this point keeping my body in top shape for the strain that ballet puts on it I don’t see losing my conditioning for a year or longer with one or more pregnancies and I’m sure I’ll love the baby none the less for not having carried her myself.  

Scavenger hunt: On Monday my Lady’s Maid (think Dresser, who had been with Edith for more than 20 years) and I will begin going through Edith’s things and her most personal and private closets the keys for which the Barony’s solicitors gave me in a sealed packet after the funeral.  Well, that description was probably unkind, but there is no telling what we will find.  I can hardly wait!

Anya and my wards leave for London: Anya took Bea, Willow, Odette and Odile and their escorts back to Blackthorn House in London on the 10:34 from Caersws. That gives the railroad 20 minutes to switch The Dragon in Birmingham to the Euston train arriving at 3:41. For a 3 ½ hour trip I wouldn’t have sent them down on The Dragon, but we never transferred their luggage and they aren’t traveling light so they may as well enjoy the trip while they can be pampered.

Home alone: Finally! Marvin and I are here by ourselves. Well, not exactly as there is the permanent house staff of ten, but they are nearly invisible unless you ring for one so with just the two of us here it is almost lonely. The servants in descending order of importance are:

Females: A staff of six: the Housekeeper, Mrs. Wallace; the Cook, Mrs. Harris; Emily, my Lady’s Maid/Dresser; two Housemaids and a Kitchenmaid. 

Males: A staff of four:  Charles, Chamberlain of the Household (Estate Steward); the Butler, Mr. Harris, the cook’s husband; a Footman/chauffer and an under-footman.

I’ve already spoken with His Grace about a Valet for Marvin. Marvin insists he doesn’t want one, but a secretary/Valet might be more acceptable and His Grace has a man he can recommend. Marvin is amazed at the labor needed and Edith the 22^nd hardly entertained at all in the last few years. I don’t propose to try to out Downton Downton Abbey, but if I can afford it and I’m expected to entertain why not do it properly and in style?

An intimate relationship with ewes

A highland relationship - Scottish Blackface Sheep

The weather: We made the trip safely landing in Edinburgh and taking a helicopter to His Grace’s hunting lodge in the mountains to the east of Ullapool. The weather here at the lodge is very cool, in the mid 50s F with a brisk wind and light to heavy rain.  The forecast for tomorrow, Sunday September 22 is about the same, but at a much higher elevation it will be colder so it looks like the girls and I are going to perform while soaking wet, unless there is divine intervention. The thought of being cold and wet again brings to mind how delightful it would be to wear a swimskin, but a few sips of The Old Bull’s Gorse brandy before ‘Showtime’ and the stack of soft waterproof blankets made of red deer skins should take care of the cold, for a while at least. We are all going to bed very early tonight as we are still jet-lagged and have to get up at 4:00 AM to have our buns on the altars at sunrise, which is at 7:06 AM.

A complication: Chris, our male Gyn who travels with us, had gone on ahead to the hunting lodge in the hills overlooking Loch Broom. There he met Taryn who cut classes at Cambridge to join him and they met with the Dukes Veterinarian who looks after the flocks of Scottish\h Blackface sheep he raises for their wool, which goes into making Harris Tweed, and meat.  The most delicious rack of lamb is served at His Grace’s table!

Chris was sent ahead to check the sexual health of the boys (13 to 18 years of age) who had been chosen as candidates to be seed planters in celebration of the Autumnal Equinox. There were 20 candidates, all from his Grace’s extensive sheep farming operations in old Wester Ross-Shire. Three of the candidates, two 17 and an 18 y/o, all from the same farm, tested positive for Chlamydia C. abortus.  The chlamydia bacteria are zoonotic. It can be spread to other species including goats, cattle and occasionally humans. C. abortus is the most virulent strain and so while being treated with antibiotics and recovering the boys were out of contention for seed planting on an altar at Location Z on the equinox

Spew in a ewe: More worrying for them however, is the very real possibility of losing their jobs because of transmitting Chlamydia to His Grace’s ewes which can kill their lambs.  Not because they were fucking ewes, which Jack says is common on sheep farms in the Highlands, but because they rode bareback when they were told to wear condoms. Being tight and with a body temperature of 102 – 103 degrees F Jack (speaking from experience) says a ewe makes a delightfully tight warm fuck and there’s no danger of having to pay child support, though the smell leaves something to be desired. I couldn’t really be upset with him, as sheep fucking is something of a male right of passage in the farming communities in the Highlands. Not to mention that I’ve had sex with a Great Dane, a tiger and several dolphins so I couldn’t honestly be upset with him for taking his pleasure where he found it in remote locations w/o women.

Now that chlamydial abortion has been diagnosed the entire flock is being treated with tetracycline. Fortunately the outbreak occurred in the smallest of the flocks so is thought to be isolated and well contained.  Human cases of C. abortus always involve pregnant women, most of whom will miscarry. Of course my circle and I all test to make certain we aren’t pregnant. Even though we all use DiveGel+ with a biocide that should kill the Chlamydia bacteria and we know our partners are clean it’s still scary to know that we could have an STI bacteria deposited in some of us if we hadn’t been pro-active about STI testing since we need to take our equinox altar partners bareback.  

Partner distribution: Two other candidates had minor injuries from recent farm related accidents that made them ineligible this year so we were left with fifteen healthy participating males. The plan is that we make an equal distribution over the five (one principal and four cardinal compass point secondary) altars which will give us three each. I’m taking the youngest, the two thirteen and one fourteen y/os. Bea gets the three fifteen y/os and Cyndi and the twins share the seventeen and eighteen y/os. If any of the girls can’t handle three I’ll take the ones they can’t accommodate and Jack and if the Old Bull feels up to it I’ll service him as well.

Hoods from hares: The Mountain Hare (Lepus timidus) is Britain's only native member of the rabbit/hare group. The women of the village supporting His Grace’s hunting lodge have made rabbit fur hoods with attached capes over the neck, throat and shoulders, for all the visiting altar girls, from the white winter coats of the Mountain Hare. They are beautifully made delightfully warm and were fitted individually over our hair after we arrived. They are ceremonial altar clothing for warmth and head protection while being repeatedly inseminated on behalf of the earth goddess at sunrise on celestially important occasions when ritual seed planting is called for.

The Swan twins, an update: Odette and Odile seem to have adjusted well to their GyneFix IUDs with no pain or spotting after the initial two day discomfort from having the knot buried in the fundus. The day before we left Odette showed Himself the main library at UNLV one evening and was taken (from behind while she was sur les pointes a la seconde in the stacks where she had gotten a job shelf reading. She wore a ball-gag to minimize the noise a brown long sleeve turtleneck thong back leo with matching brown 50 denier tights over the leo for immediate access and brown suede tipped GM pointes for traction on the polished floors as well as to deaden the sound when the old bull repeatedly thrust dropped her. The color of her clothing made her nearly invisible in the low lighting in the stacks. 

It was a simple matter for Himself to pull her tights down and when she bent over and held on to the metal shelving he slipped the thong to one side, spread her lips and inserted himself bareback with a single stroke that completely filled her and rammed her cervix she moaned and tears ran from her eyes.  She was very excited to have him thrusting into her cervix and he actually gave her an orgasm before shooting his load to coat her cervix with his thick creamy semen. Afterward she unbuckled her ball gag, pulled it out and was gasping for breath as she Kegeled out most of his ejaculate. She adjusted her thong, pulled up her tights and the rest of their coitial discharge drained into the thong of her leo and the absorbent crotch grommet of her tights as they walked back to her car.