While vacationing in Bavaria, I visited the famous castles of Germany to include their history in my syllabus for the fall’s European 19th Century History class. While touring Neuschwanstein Castle, I noticed a rare painting of Elisabeth, the Empress of Austria, the famed and jilted lover of King Ludwig. I might as well have been looking in a mirror for Elisabeth and I, Elizabeth Benton, are nearly identical. Always stunned by our uncanny resemblance, I stared at the portrait and heard a man whisper in my ear, "Ah, lovely Elisabeth, you have returned to Neuschwanstein."
“Excuse me?” I asked turning to the stranger dressed as King Ludwig II, an obvious tour guide at Neuschwanstein castle, the famed home of this eccentric king who died with his lover out of their homosexual shame in the Victorian era.
“Ah, King Ludwig, and how is my sister, Sophie? Hmm? The one you ran off with when you should have been betrothed to me?”
The gorgeous stranger in Victorian royal garb stared with complete astonishment, unable to believe that I knew the story behind all of this.
“Dr. Elizabeth Benton, Historian,” I replied, introducing myself, extending my hand like an American in Europe, hoping to take the shocked look off his face.
“Please to make your acquaintance,” he said, taking my hand and kissing it.
We flirted as the last of the tourists left the castle for the day. When the doors were closed, he led me to the Swan Grotto, a place that is closed off to the public and what was known as Ludwig’s favorite place to relax in his castle.
“This grotto was made out of love for Wagner,” he said, taking a torch and leading me into the cave with the sculpture of the swan and lit the candles about us.
In the dim light, I watched as he reached behind the swan and pulled out a duffel bag. From it he handed me a bottle of wine, two glasses, and a basket that had cheese and bread in it. I held these treasures while he spread out a flannel blanket on the cave floor.
“Come, Elisabeth, dearest Dove, come sit with your lover.”
“If I was your lover, then why then did you marry my sister?” I asked, kneeling at his side.
“After the fiasco with the commoner, the one who stole into your bedroom? How could I have married you? Knowing all that I had taught you of the fine art of love making, you wasted upon him?” he asked, pouring the wine and reclining on the blanket still dressed as King Ludwig and playing the part to the extreme. I felt out of place there with him in 19th century garb while I was still clad in blue jeans and a camp shirt.
“Well, I . . . but you always wanted Sophie, even if you didn’t appreciate her youthfulness.” I sipped my wine while he cut a slice of cheese with his knife then fed it to me.
“No matter, dearest Dove, I have you now and that’s all that matters to me.”
“It does?”
“Indeed. Now then, disrobe for your king.”
“Disrobe?”
“Enough of the games, Elisabeth. Stand up and show me your splendor.”
Suspiciously, I watched him and drank some more wine.
“Getting up the nerve, are you? Come Empress, the sooner you do it, the sooner I can make you my queen, if only for the night.”
There was something magical about him. The ebony hair in wavy locks, the gilded clothes and smug smile, oh, he truly had the smugness and the spontaneity of Ludwig. I began to unbutton my shirt, admitting to myself that I had fantasized what it must have been like to make love to Ludwig, the wild and eccentric young king, the very same incurable romantic who loved Wagner and musicians. From reading his epistolary to Elisabeth, I knew that was what drew him to Sophie’s bosom. She could sing opera whereas I couldn’t . . . rather, Elisabeth couldn’t carry a tune to save her soul.
“Your soul doesn’t need saving, Elisabeth,” his beautiful brown eyes read as I removed my shirt, exposing him to the satin white bra. I unbuttoned my jeans and slid them down my legs to my ankles. His hands were at work on my laced Reeboks and had them off in a moment with my socks and jeans while he analyzed each of my feet. When he stared up at me, Ludwig saw that I was still covered by a satin bra and a thong.
“Your king is waiting,” he said to me. “Come, Elisabeth, show me your splendor.”
I did as he bade and my bra fell down onto the blanket between my feet and him. He picked it up and put it to his face then peered up at my perfect bosom.
“And?” he asked forcing me to remove the thong so it fell down to ring about my feet. He reached for my hand, helping me to recline before him on the blanket then fed me yet another piece of cheese, before handing me the glass of wine. When I reached for it, he purposefully spilt it on my breasts.
“Tsk tsk, a pity to waste good German wine,” he said, moving over me so that I laid flat on my back. His rosy soft lips kissed away the wine as his tongue darted between my breasts, lapping up every droplet while spilling even more wine and cleansing them with his mouth. My hands couldn’t help caressing his arm, draped in that velvet, as the warmth of him in his costume blocked the chilly air from my exposed skin there in the cave. The king positioned himself over me, moving lower with each kiss, teasing my belly taut with his gentle breath as his fingers kneaded my breasts like proofed dough for the baking.
“Oh, Ludwig,” I sighed, “Dearest Ludwig, please, take me.”
“Why? After you slept with that commoner, Franz was it?”
“Hanz, you know it was Hanz!”
“Yes, well, nice of my guards to end his savage behavior of sneaking into the Empress’ room, now wasn’t it?”
“But I loved him, Ludwig.”
“I loved you more, dearest dove. Tonight, I will show you how I loved you, I will remind you of the torment you inflicted upon my heart when I knew you were with another. Another not worthy of the beauty of my dearest Dove.”
I felt penitent even though I had done nothing at all, desiring to please him as if to make up for a sin. His fingers traveled down my belly with his eyes watching for my reaction when he stroked the fur of my sex like a sleeping kitten. All too weird for me, I knew that I should dress immediately, but something kept me there like I was in a trance, unable to escape him. I sucked in quick breaths of anticipation as his hands parted my legs and brought my knees into the air while my feet set on the cold ground of the grotto. Ludwig’s mouth teased my belly making it taut as he nibbled down my quivering skin. With my hair splayed about me like Brunnhilde in the wind, and restraining my hands that wanted to tear off his crushed velvet tunic and touch his skin as he teased me with his mouth. I raised my hips to invite his tongue within, the same tongue that ravished my breasts. When he plunged it within me, I sighed in delight. His passionate play between my parted legs had me so distracted that I didn’t hear a stranger approach.
“Ludwig, I see you found Elisabeth,” said the man standing over my head in like garb, startling me so I almost stood up. Ludwig’s hand on my stomach told me to relax, so I lowered myself again.
“Max, welcome, the Empress was eager to please me tonight.”
“Some things never change with whores.”
