Please note that the memories and artwork contained herein are copyrighted 1999, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008

This is another memory set that I neglected to write down. I am unsure why, but my current lifetime has been rather busy lately, and well, one doesn't always have time to write things down.

First and perhaps only Memory

I am about 15 years old. It is evening. Somewhere in Eastern Europe. There is a fire still in the fireplace of the main room of the inn. It is the tavern or bar room where everyone drinks and eats. There is a stairway that leads upstairs to a series of guest rooms that are quite modest in nature. The ceiling is open and tall. Square set timber style. The tables are simple wood with benches and various other kinds of wooden chairs. The room smells of alcohol since so much of it has been spilled upon the floor and tables. The room also smells smoky from the wood burning fireplace which is a massive stone structure that stands tall and looms on one end of the room.

This is a room of many years of abuse. I have been the victim of my stepfather 's abusive nature. I have the impression that my real father was a soldier and was killed sometimes was I was a small boy and my mother being still young, but not well placed financially decided to remarry. The man never liked me much. Perhaps I looked too much like my father. He would embarrass me in front of the customers, whom I was forced to wait upon. He would punish me in front of everyone and sometimes for no reason at all. I pretty learned how to avoid him. I was generally stuck taking care of the tavern during the late hours and was expected to do certain tasks every evening.

One of those tasks was to ask any remaining guests to leave once the closing hour had come and then to continue to clean up the tavern for the next days business.  So I was cleaning this one evening while three rather rough and mysterious individuals remained in the tavern drinking and talking. I knew these guys would give me trouble, so I figured I would do my duty and ask and if they refused to leave, then oh well. Standing dressed in a white shirt, blue breeches, dark blue vest, semi white stockings, black shoes, and a barkeep's apron and the broom in front of me, I proceed to inform my rather dangerous looking guests that the tavern is closed and that they shall have to drink elsewhere.

No for some reason they decide to take my polite request the wrong way, which is no real surprise to me since I have had this happen several times before. I have learned not to push the issue, but these three really are in some kind of mood. Perhaps they are drunk or they just don't like me, but they decide to stand up and take offense. They act as if I am trying to prove something them. These men are well armed and appeared to have seen some combat. They all wear long cloaks, but when they get up I can see they are armed and dressed fairly well. They engage me in conversation with playful antagonistic tones and finally decide to bend me over one of the large tavern tables. They tell me that they are going to teach me some manners, which is no surprising threat to be heard in this place. My own stepfather said that many times and I knew what that meant. I'd end up with some embarrassing and painful swats across the ass. That usually sufficed the bully's need to prove themselves. If I just let them do their thing, then it would be over with and they'd leave.

It was almost as if they could sense my thoughts. The few wacks across the butt didn't satisfy their needs. It was almost as if they were curious about me. Why should they find me to be interesting? They were obviously men of the world who had seen a lot more than I. They decide to get more personal to see if they can get a reaction out of me. Suddenly I feel certain things happening and I reply to them that I preferred girls and that I had never done anything with boys before. they kinda laugh at me while one crawls under the table to take a look at my groin. The man below makes a comment that I would probably someday make a women very happy. 

I retort back to these nosy louts that I have already made many women happy using what I have. This gets their attention, and they start to question me. I tell them that I have already fathered 20 children and do not need to wait until later to become a lover of women. They make some comments about me probably sleeping with dairy maids and such and I tell them no. I had slept with many upper class married women that wanted children. I also had ten more ladies that were waiting for appointments with me.

Now I have their attention. They let me go and start talking with me instead of harassing me. I get the impression they are concerned although I cannot imagine why they would be concerned about me. They continue to question me, and I saw no reason to not to answer, except I would not divulge any of the ladies's names. Most of the women that I slept with wanted children and I seemed to have gained a reputation for being fertile even though I was young. The women were the ones that passed my name along to each other. I never inquired to them. Several had old husbands that were no longer able to father children, but insisted on marrying young women, and others were married to wealthy men that did prefer women, but men instead. The women arranged the meetings and times all around their husbands schedules and times that would make it appear that the child was their own. I got to see many of the children and they were quite healthy and happy.

What disturbed these men was the fact that I had fathered children of the same social class and the chance that these children could become betrothed to each other in the future by accident. Should any of this get out, I would be killed. I had no idea. I was fourteen or fifteen years old.

As the night aged, I learned these men to be Knights Templar and that they had come to the decision to take me away with them. I was interested in finding a better life and being a knight was more than I had ever dreamed I could be as the stepson of a tavern keeper. These three knights spoke with my stepfather and easily convinced him that he should not complain about losing his best barkeeper. And that it was in his best interest to shut up and never speak of the situation again. I left with those three knights that night.

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