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Being the Maid Ch. 01

By: Goldeniangel



Author's Note: There are so many stories in the non-consent/reluctance category about the Princess or noblewoman being captured by pirates or bandits or whatever. Sometimes you hear nothing about her maid, sometimes the maid's fate is put aside as easily as her being handed off to 'the men'... so I started wondering, what would a story centering on a maid being handed off to the men be like, rather than focusing on the Princess and the Bandit leader? 

I'm going to put out right now, there are going to be some romantic overtones. If you're looking for straight up rough and brutal non-consent, this probably isn't the story for you, although there is some rough sex in it and there definitely will be more in later chapters. However, if you hate seeing romance in non-consent stories then you should probably stay away as well, unless you're okay with justifying it as Stockholm's ;) 

In any case, if you choose to read on I hope you enjoy my version of events.

*

Bridget loved traveling. She loved the open air, seeing the many rolling fields and forests pass by, and all the small towns and cities that they stayed in. Most of all she loved the days when the Princess Eleanor ignored her and allowed her to enjoy the journey. The fact that the Princess didn't need her services often while they traveled was another bonus. Normally they traveled in large entourages and she sat in the carriage with the other maids and only needed to attend on the Princess in the mornings and evenings, and occasionally the midday stop. 

This journey was different. Princess Eleanor was on her way from France to England to be married and there had been many threats from malcontents and the Spanish, so a cunning plan had been hatched. On the usual route was the regular entourage with its full complement of soldiers, nobles and baggage. However, she and the Princess were not traveling with the entourage; they were traveling in disguise by a slightly longer route with only a handful of guards. It was thought that being disguised and traveling in a small, swift group on an unexpected route would be safer; deception was key. In a larger entourage there would be too many people, security would be harder to come by and the Princess could be too easily lost in a crowd or even plucked out of one. Right now, every one of the four guards knew where she was at all times and as Bridget had been with the Princess for years now, there was no worry that she was an assassin. 

Despite the inherent danger in the journey, Bridget felt pretty safe behind the deception, although the Princess was ill pleased at having to dress as a regular noble woman and not having her full baggage train available. She also didn't like that Bridget was the only person available to truly dance attendance on her, as the guards had not been chosen for their conversational skills. Indeed, even after two weeks of traveling with them, she didn't know anything about them and she'd given up on trying to talk to them. Which meant that most of her day was spent in silence because the Princess was sulking and even when she was talking to Bridget, she didn't encourage Bridget talking to her. 

Which meant that Bridget got to spend most of her time on her horse, enjoying the journey. It was lovely really, to be out in the open like this instead of cooped up in a carriage. No one pressing against her sides, no ruts in the road causing them to bounce uncomfortably. Although her muscles had ached for the first few days, she'd now become accustomed to riding for such long periods and no longer needed to take any stints of sitting in the carriage with Princess Eleanor. For which she was grateful. The Princess barely acknowledge her presence and she preferred to be out on her own, rather than watching the land go by from a window. 

It was amazing how fast everything could go wrong. One moment Bridget was standing next to her horse, watching the Princess come out of the carriage as they stopped for their midday meal; the next moment her horse was rearing, pulling its reins out of her grasp, the Princess was screaming, and the men were yelling. She caught a glimpse of one of the guards down on the ground, something sticking out of the center of his body and her screams joined the Princess'. Without thinking, she ran, instinctively moving away from where she saw two strange men engaged in a sword fight with the three remaining guards, her mind racing as she looked around for the Princess. She had no idea what she could do against armed men, but she knew that she needed to at least stay by the Princess' side, do what she could to protect her.

Something slammed into her stomach, knocking out her air, and she fell to the ground so hard that she thought she might be seeing golden stars flashing across her vision as she struggled to take in a breathe. She couldn't even scream as she was bodily picked up from the ground, rope quickly laced around her wrists as they were held behind her back. For just a split second her vision cleared enough that she got a glimpse of a cruelly handsome face before she was tossed bodily over his shoulder. A very broad, strong shoulder, that hurt her stomach even more so as she bounced on it. Tears sparked her eyes as she tried to kick out, but her legs were quickly pinioned by his arms and hands, the bulky layers of her riding skirt further hindering her movements. 

"I've got a live one!" 

Bridget shivered as the man carrying her yelled out the nonsensical sentence. It wasn't until she heard laughter from a little ways ahead of them that she realized he must have been talking to his compatriots. About her. A live one? She prayed she'd stay that way, remembering the still body of the guard that she'd seen. Surely he was no longer alive. Were the other guards? Was the Princess?

"Here's another," called a voice to her left. Turning her head she was relieved to see the Princess Eleanor, similarly trussed and being carried in the same direction. At least she wasn't alone. At least not everyone else was dead. She thought she'd never be so pleased to the see the Princess, but at least she was a familiar face. Although, at the moment she couldn't see the Princess' face, because the Princess wasn't looking in her direction. 

Both of them were set down on the ground about twenty feet away from where the carriage was, far enough that Bridget couldn't see if any of the guards had escaped or if they were all dead. Some of the horses were gone, fled into the woods. With wide eyes she looked up at the four men standing over them. They were all very big, very muscular and somewhat well dressed, wearing what were obviously cast offs of nobles. While some wealthier common folk were able to afford cast offs, their behavior told Bridget exactly what they were: brigands. 

Fear quivered through her. She felt a little hysterical, almost ready to laugh at the irony. They'd gone out of their way to avoid so many threats and here they were stymied by regular brigands! The situation was almost ludicrous. Pushing down her emotions, she tried to focus on what they were saying just as the Princess spoke up.

"I am Princess Eleanor of Lorraine and I demand you release me at once!"

Oh no. Bridget closed her eyes and pulled her legs up into her, curling into a protective ball. She'd never thought of the Princess as being stupid, but she was certainly thinking it now. 

"A Princess eh?" The voice was cruel, deep, and utterly in command. Bridget just curled herself tighter and silently wished that the Princess would have the sense to be polite. No such luck of course.

"Yes you swine," she sneered and Bridget wanted to groan. "Princess Eleanor and if you do not release me then you will regret it. My father will hunt you down. My bridegroom will hunt you down. My-" She let out a shriek and Bridget's eyes flew open, her head twisting around to see if the slapping sound she had heard was really what she thought it was. The stark red handprint on Princess Eleanor's face confirmed it. Even worse, with her eyes open she could now see how all of the men were looking at them. The same way the men at home sometimes looked at the maids that were 'willing.' Bridget wasn't. Bridget never had been. 

Especially not with men like these. The one standing in front of the Princess gave off the vibe of authority, making Bridget think that he was the leader. Tall with sun darkened skin, the hair that was visible under his hat looked to be long and an even lighter blonde than the man who had originally grabbed her. Almost like corn silk. The shortest of them was still very tall, from what she could tell when she was sitting on the ground, with light brown hair and a stocky body, his face was almost boyish except for the scar that marred his left cheek. Now she could get a better look at the one who had kidnapped her; he was just as good looking and frightening as before, a small, cruel smile playing on his lips as he stared down at the Princess. Bridget was just glad that he wasn't looking at her like that. The last one was standing behind her where she couldn't quite see him. 

"No one will know we have taken you, Princess," the leader said, looking almost jovial. Bridget believed him. "If that's what you are. Noble, I believe, but a Princess? Traveling with so few guards and in those clothes? I highly doubt it."

"We can talk to them later, Patrick" drawled a deep voice behind her. The one that she couldn't see. "Just in case, let's get away from the carriage for now."

The leader - Patrick, Bridget assumed - nodded his head. "You're right. Gather up the loot. I'll take the Princess," the sarcasm in his voice made it clear that he was mocking her. "Garrett, you take her." With a flip of his hand at Bridget he turned and she squeaked as the man behind her picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder. He was just as well muscled and tall as the blonde one that had caught her. 

Deciding that it was useless to keep fighting right now, Bridget allowed herself to hang limply, especially after listening to more of Eleanor's demands which were followed by a hard slap and a yelp. Before getting onto the horses, Patrick gagged her. 

Bridget was settled onto a horse in front of Garrett, making her all too aware of the hot, hard masculine body behind her, especially since the way her hands were bound behind her back made it hard for her to touch him anywhere but his groin. Blushing furiously she tried to lean forward, away from him, but he just wrapped one arm around her middle and tugged her back. 

"Might as well get used to it, beautiful," he murmured in her ear. "There's only one reason Patrick ever wants to bring women back with us. If you're nice to us, we'll be nice to you. Stay quiet and good, like you're doing now, and you'll be fine."

Strangely, his voice almost sounded kind. As if he was trying to warn her and give her used to the idea of... of... what men would want a woman for. Shaking with fear and fury, Bridget dismissed that idea, knowing that it was only in her head, that she was trying to reassure herself with this twisted view on the man beside her. She was too terrified to scream and too smart to try and fight her way off the horse with her hands tied behind her back. 

It took them awhile to get to the campsite the bandits were looking for. By that time Bridget felt almost nauseous with fear and hunger, they hadn't eaten their midday meal and her belly was completely empty. She'd even gotten used to being pressed so closely to a man and had started to feel his arm around her like an embrace, keeping her safely on the horse even when she was dizzy and worried that she might fall off. Having help off the horse was a relief and she finally got a good look at the man who had been holding her for the past few hours.

Very tall, with dark hair and eyes, a masculine chin, he was very good looking in a wild, untamed kind of way. Somehow he was even more intimidating than the blonde, cruel looking one or Patrick, whom she had assumed led this group. After all, Patrick had had final say on their actions, although he'd followed the advice of this man, Garrett. Taking her by the upper arm he pulled her away from the horses and over to the campsite. She was shocked when Princess Eleanor was sat down next to her, her bodice torn and most of her creamy breasts visible. The Princess no longer looked so haughty, her eyes were glazed with shock and something else that Bridget couldn't quite define. She ignored Bridget, but kept shooting little glances at Patrick. 

Suddenly a shadow fell over them and Bridget looked up to see the cruel blonde staring down at them appraisingly, his eyes lingering over the Princess' exposed flesh. The look in his eyes brought back her fear, over the hunger and exhaustion. 

"Well that's a nice sight," he said, and he rubbed the front of his pants lasciviously. Bridget gasped and looked away, blushing hard, trying to forget Garrett's words on the way here. 

"Leave them alone Samuel," Patrick ordered. "Help get the horses rubbed down. And don't go near the Princess, she's mine. You three can have the maid."

The blatant harshness of his comments made Bridget feel dizzy again. Samuel muttered something about Patrick always getting the nobility and stalked away angrily. Somehow Bridget knew that his anger didn't bode well for her. After they rubbed down the horses, the boyish one whose name she didn't know yet, came over and untied her hands and then retied them in front of her so that she could eat the bowl of stew that he brought her. Terrified but grateful for the food, Bridget kept her eyes downcast as she began to eat, quickly. 

"Slow down or you'll make yourself sick," drawled a deep and almost familiar voice. She looked up to see Garrett, who handed her a cup of water before giving one to the Princess. After they'd taken the gag out she hadn't made a peep and Bridget wondered what Patrick had done to her during the ride. And then she decided it was less scary to stop wondering. 

After she finished eating she watched the men moving around out of the corners of her eyes. The only one who seemed to be paying any attention to them was Samuel. He kept looking over at them with a grin on his face that made Bridget shudder, especially when she remembered Patrick's words. Time seemed to be running at a strange pace, far too fast and far too slow, waiting for the moment when she'd meet her fate with them. 

It came even more quickly than she'd expected.

The men finished their chores and suddenly Patrick was hauling Eleanor up by her arm and pulling her over to the other side of the clearing. Princess Eleanor started yelling immediately, the fight obviously back in her, but he just laughed and slid his hand into her bodice, doing something that made her shriek. That was all Bridget had time to see before Samuel was suddenly in front of her, looming over her and taking up her entire field of vision. 

"Hold off Sam," said Garrett in that authoritative voice of his. "You know how we agreed to do this."

Sam scowled. "I don't want to wait. Blaine? What do you think?"

"What Garrett said. She'll be more fun if we do it his way," the boyish one said gruffly. Bridget closed her eyes, trying to shut out the sound of small shrieks and moans, slaps of flesh against flesh that were coming from where Patrick had dragged the Princess. 

"Depends on your meaning of 'fun,'" Samuel said gruffly. "I don't want to wait that long."

"Use her mouth then and let Garrett do his thing, but if you do that then you go last," Blaine replied. Use her mouth? Bridget didn't understand. Their words seemed to swirl in the air around her, confusing her and making the entire situation that much more surreal. 

Suddenly she was being pulled up to her knees, her eyes flying open. Someone pressed in behind her, their broad body hot against her back. In front of her was Samuel, undoing the laces on his breeches. She could see a bulge of flesh pressing against the front. 

"Relax sweetheart," Garrett murmured in her ear. "It will go easier for you if you don't panic."

The suggestion seemed almost ludicrous, but somehow it helped. Knowing that he was there, caring for her well being in some way, actually helped, despite her fear and anxiety. It made her feel a little bit less alone. Although the sounds coming from Patrick and Eleanor were still terrifying, especially because she couldn't see what was going on. Then she was distracted as one of Garrett's hands slid into the top of her bodice, the other undoing the laces. Her breasts spilled out of the gaping fabric, ample mounds of flesh tipped with soft pink nipples. Hot breath on her neck made her shiver with a reaction she'd never experienced and then his lips were there, sucking gently on her sensitive flesh and she gasped with the shock of it. Cupping her breast, he squeezed the soft flesh and she shuddered, feeling an answering response deep in her belly. What was happening to her? 

Cool air brushed her skin as Samuel pulled himself free of his breeches, a thick stalk of man flesh that riveted her attention even as her upper body was bared to men's eyes for the first time in her life. Blaine was helping Garrett undress her as Garrett's hands caressed her flesh, sending goose bumps creeping across her skin even though she wasn't cold. 

"Open up," Samuel ordered, grasping the top of her head by her hair and pressing the tip of his cock against her mouth. Bridget stared up at him in shock of what he wanted from her, thinking that she must be misunderstanding him. 

"Open those pretty lips," Garrett whispered into her ear, then his teeth bit down on her earlobe and Bridget gasped. Samuel took advantage to push himself into her. 

"Don't you dare bite down," the cruel looking man ordered, glaring down at her. 

Bridget was a churning mass of conflicted emotions and sensations. Just as Samuel had invaded her mouth, Garrett's hands had cupped both of her breasts, his fingers pinching her nipples in a way that made her feel like she was on fire, awakening a yearning itch deep inside of her. She could feel herself losing control, losing herself because she didn't know how to deal with what was going on, she had no defenses against Garrett's skilled hands and the way he was eliciting responses from her untried body. At the same time, Samuel was thrusting in and out of her mouth, a musky, salty taste that was heavy on her tongue. The more he pushed back and forth the harder it was for her to breath. 

Garrett murmured encouragement in her ear that she barely heard, advice that she did her best to follow as Samuel plundered her mouth. The entire time Garrett continued to caress her as Blaine watched from the sidelines, only helping when Garrett needed assistance with her clothes. She started to feel dizzy with all the strange pleasures that were making her nipples pucker and her breasts feel heavy and swollen, the strange new heat that was coiling deep in her belly and between her legs. Dizzy with lack of air as Samuel began to push down her throat. She would have panicked then if Garrett hadn't been encouraging her to swallow, promising her that she would be alright. 

Suddenly Samuel's grip on her hair tightened and she quivered, his thick shaft swelling in her mouth as he thrust it forward, the hair at his groin pressing against her lips as she took him fully into her mouth and down her throat. Fingers stroked her neck as tears sparked in her eyes and hot fluid gushed down into her belly. She could feel Samuel's manhood pulsing against her lower lip and tongue, every spurt of his seed traveling through that part of his body and into hers. Her stomach roiled for a moment at the knowledge that she was swallowing him. 

The fingers in her hair relaxed and the flesh inside of her mouth had already started to soften as Samuel pulled out, leaving her gasping for air. Her throat felt raw and her lips swollen and bruised. The taste of him was still in her mouth, not completely unpleasant but not good either. 


Being the Maid Ch. 01



"Good girl," Garrett murmured in her ear, distracting her from the ordeal she'd just gone through. "Trust me it was worth it, he won't be so rough on you now, when it's his turn."

His turn for what?

Suddenly Bridget found herself being turned over and picked up, her skirts sliding off of body and leaving her completely naked and exposed. She whimpered and tried to cover herself with her hands, which the men ignored as Blaine and Garrett laid the skirts on the ground and then her on top of them. Next to them Samuel just stood and watched with glittering eyes, his manhood tucked away but his breeches were still unlaced. All three of the men were caressing her with their gazes, taking in her creamy skin and moist pinkness between her legs. Unable to bear seeing them drinking her in, she turned her head and found herself staring over at the Princess, only now noticing that the shrieks had stopped and Princess Eleanor was now moaning in a way that sounded... unexpected. Not pained moans or protesting moans; there was something in the quality of her voice that stirred that tension in Bridget's belly. She was shocked to see Patrick between the Princess' bare legs, his buttocks clenching as he pumped hard, the same way that Samuel had been thrusting in and out of her mouth. 

Taking her bound wrists, Blaine held them above her head, kneeling next to her on the ground he cupped one breast in his hand, kneading it almost carelessly. She whimpered, feeling extremely exposed as Garrett lay almost on top of her, his mouth coming down on her other breast. She gasped as he took her nipple between his lips... so wet and hot. The heat between her legs was becoming almost painful, she could feel her womanhood pulsing. Squeezing her thighs together helped relieve some of the tension, but not enough. 

She groaned as Garrett's knee thrust between hers, pushing her legs apart. The suckling at her breast made her writhe for them, forgetting everything in the hot wash of pleasure that slid through her weak defenses. Being completely inexperienced with men, Bridget had no idea how to handle the tumultuous emotions and the desires that Garrett was coaxing from her. His hand traveled over the silken skin of her stomach and between her legs, which were parted just enough to allow him to curve his fingers through the curly hair of her womanhood and into that most intimate heart of her. 

The touch knocked her back to her senses for a moment and she gave a shriek of protest, which the men ignored. 

"Stop, stop, please!" she started to beg, finally finding her voice. Garrett's fingers rubbed between the folds of her flesh, igniting sparks that flew through her, terrifying her as she'd never felt anything like this before. "Oh please, you can't... you have to stop... please... don't!" She tried to squeeze her thighs together, unable to stop struggling now that she'd started. 

Garrett removed his mouth from her breast as Blaine pinched her nipple, making her body arch. "This is happening sweetheart. We've got needs and we haven't had a woman in the camp for awhile, but I'm going to take care of you."

"Please, just let me go," she begged, looking from him to Blaine for mercy. Instinctively she knew that there was no point in looking at Samuel. Blaine's expression was indifferent as he continued to toy with her breast. 

"No," said Garrett firmly. "Just relax sweetheart, you're going to enjoy this." Strong hands parted her thighs and she could feel the cool, fresh air licking across her heated flesh. She started begging again, hating the way that Garrett was looking at her so intimately. Then his head dipped and she screamed with shock as his mouth came down between her legs. 

The hot need she'd been experiencing turned into an inferno. In almost a daze she realized that his tongue was licking at her, taking long, slow tastes of that most sacred part of her. The firm grip of his hands on her thighs prevented her from struggling further, she couldn't even press her legs together in an attempt to push him away from her body. And she wasn't sure she truly wanted to either. His mouth was eliciting the most incredible pleasure, her body starting to undulate in a passionately needy response to this assault on her senses. She was literally losing her mind to sensual instincts, to the overwhelming demand of her body for Garrett to keep doing what he was doing. 

Part of her was screaming out that somehow she had to make him stop and another part of her was protesting the idea of him ever stopping. Her hips were thrusting up and down, moving against his questing tongue and mouth. Blaine's fingers plucked and twisted her nipple, increasing the fervent need that was building on top of itself within her. 

"Please..." she begged, no longer sure what she was begging for. "Please..."

There was suddenly suction on some part of her, suction that sent her careening over the edge of that need, ecstasy blossoming out of the coiling tension and zinging through her body. She writhed, dimly realizing that her frantic moans sounded like the ones that the Princess had been making. The waves of pleasure went on and on, draining the fire from her body until she lay quivering and still. 

"Good girl," Garrett said. Closing her eyes, Bridget panted for breath, feeling ashamed of herself. She had no idea what had just happened, but she was sure it wasn't proper. Men weren't supposed to put their mouths on women in that way and she was sure that it was wrong of her to have enjoyed it! 

Something pressed between her legs and her eyes popped open again to see Garrett kneeling between her thighs, looking down at the juncture of her legs. Before she could say anything, before she realized what he was doing, he leaned over her and something hot and hard and big pushed inside of her, taking her breath away. 

"OH!" She cried out, the unusual sensation shocking her. It hurt, it didn't hurt, it felt strange and wonderful and wrong. Garrett's hands gripped her hips as he pushed deeper and Bridget gasped some more. Blaine continued to hold her arms firmly above her head as she jerked her wrists, one hand still alternating between handfuls of breast flesh. Suddenly she realized what was happening - she was losing her virginity! "Wait! NOOOOOOOOOOO!" 

Garrett thrust forward and something inside of her gave with a sharp pinch. Bridget cried out and arched her back, trying to move away from him. He held himself inside of her, stiff and hard, her inner walls pulsing tight and wet around him. 

"You're doing great sweetheart," he said, nuzzling his face across the nipple that Blaine wasn't playing with. His hips moved and Bridget groaned, hating the fact that the movement called to something deep within her, fanning the embers of heat that had so recently been washed away by the stunning pleasure. "You feel so good."

Then his mouth came down on hers, his tongue sweeping between her lips. Bridget was startled by the intimacy, surprised to have something familiar in this sea of strange. Kissing she had done before. Kissing had been nice. Unsure of what to do, she allowed Garrett to plunder her mouth as he began to move his hips away, the stiff rod inside of her dragging outwards. She cried out against his lips as he thrust back, slowly but firmly. Helpless beneath him, she was shocked to feel her body responding to this invasion the same way it had to his hands and mouth. How could she possibly be enjoying this in any way?

The tight walls of her body trembled around him as he moved, slowly increasing his tempo. Releasing her lips, he buried his face into her shoulder, and it was only then that she realized Blaine had ceased to play with her breasts, although he still had hold of her wrists. The heavy weight on top of her was both frightening and arousing, the hard friction of his flesh thrusting inside of her was driving her wild. Every time he buried himself inside of her his body pressed against a spot that made her jerk as the sensation flared and sizzled inside of her. 

Then his weight lifted a little and his hand pressed between their bodies, fingers curving over the hair on her mound and pressing into her soft flesh, right on that same spot. Bridget cried out, her back arching upwards as the intense pleasure burst outward from his rubbing fingers, her insides clenching down around his impaling rod as she writhed, the shockingly wonderful sensations making her dizzy as she moved instinctively to extend the incredible rapture. 

"FUCK." Garrett speared her hard, feeling like steel inside of her body and she cried out as he buried himself deeply and held tight to her tender body which was still quivering with the aftershocks of her first orgasm. She was so tight that she could actually feel him pulsing inside of her as he found his own climax, the swollen flesh pressing against her clutching walls with every jet of cum. 

Breathing raggedly, he held himself inside of her as he made a last few small thrusts before his body totally relaxed and he rolled off of her. Bridget barely had a moment to catch her own breath before she looked up to see Blaine settling over her, his own raging erection prodding at her aching core. Without any preamble he pushed easily inside of her, helped by her own orgasmic juices and the lubrication that Garret's release had provided. He wasn't as big as Garrett either, which made it easier to take him into her body. Bridget moaned in protest, but her muscles felt too watery to actually try and fight him. She ended up with her fingers clutching his tunic as he pumped away on top of her, enjoying the pleasure that her body provided him but using her for his pleasure rather than doing anything to ensure her own.

Despite his lack of concern for whether or not she enjoyed herself, Bridget's sensitive nerve endings flared to life as he continued to thrust in and out of her tender folds, inadvertently rubbing against the swollen nub that Garrett had so recently brought to life. Turning her head to the side she could see Garrett watching as Blaine took her and she dizzily wondered what it looked like from his perspective. The expression on his face told her nothing. Behind him she could see Patrick and the Princess, now standing and watching her debasement; Patrick was fondling Princess Eleanor's breasts as he enjoyed the show. As Blaine continued to thrust powerfully, Bridget whimpered and closed her eyes, feeling the beginning of that same coiling tension. Her feet automatically coiled around the backs of Blaine's thighs, her body started to undulate beneath him as she moved to meet him.

Before she could find that blissful release, though, Blaine was grunting and his bruising thrusts caused her to cry out with shock as he pummeled her tender folds. He continued to thrust, hard, as he spilled frothy jets of cum inside of her, moving roughly against her. With a final thrust and a sigh of completion, Blaine rubbed his face against her breasts and then moved away, leaving her legs splayed and her body empty. To her shame, she almost wished he hadn't finished, that need inside of her had built up to the point where she was feeling frustrated that she hadn't been able to find those heights of pleasure again.

It wasn't until Samuel moved that she realized she'd forgotten about him. The lustful look in his eyes as he stood over her, admiring her naked body and the leaking, reddened folds of her sex, frightened her. She glanced over to see Garrett still watching and it made her feel a little bit more protected, that he hadn't had her and then deserted her the way Blaine had done. Patrick and Princess Eleanor were no longer standing behind him and she could hear the muffled whimpers and masculine groans which indicated that the Princess was being used by the bandit leader again. She felt a cold chill. Was Garrett just waiting for his turn again?

A sharp pinch to her nipples had her arching upwards as she let out a yelp. To her shock, the pain only seemed to intensify that throbbing need between her legs. 

"Keep your eyes on me, girl," Samuel said, his smile curving cruelly. Those icy blue eyes were now much closer to her own and she shivered at the cold lust that she saw within them. Wide eyed, she stared up at him, feeling rather frightened. "I want to see your face while I fuck you."

The crude words made her shudder, but she didn't dare look away as he began to push himself into her body. He was larger than Blaine, not as thick as Garrett but longer and she could feel him pushing open recesses that had previously been untouched by the other two men. Gasping, she felt herself moving beneath him as the entrance of his erection flared along those sensitive nerves that had already been so close to bringing her pleasure again. Narrowing his eyes as he watched her, Samuel pinched her nipples again, twisting them, and she yelped as her pussy clenched down around him, sucking at the long, hard member inside of it. 

Chuckling he looked over at Garrett, who was still watching with that blankly indifferent expression on his face. "I think she actually likes the pain," Samuel said with a leering grin. "This one's going to be fun."

"No, please," Bridget protested, her hands grabbing at Samuel's as he twisted her nipples again and she shrieked, tears springing to her eyes. She could tell that Samuel was enjoying tormenting her and that in some way he was tormenting Garrett as well. Releasing her poor nipples, Samuel grabbed her wrists and held them above her head on his own, both of them clasped in one hand. The other hand returned to her breast as he began to move inside of her, ravaging her sensitive folds. If she hadn't been so well lubricated from the previous men as well as being rather aroused from her incomplete pleasure during Blaine's turn, it would have been incredibly painful to endure his rampaging cock as it sawed back and forth, hard and punishing. 

The aborted pleasure from Blaine fought with the erotic torture that Samuel was inflicting on her, his body roughly moving on top of hers, his fingers rolling her nipple and tugging it far enough away from her body that she arched her back to follow it. The aching jabs of pain seemed to go straight to her throbbing folds, mixing with the desire for another bought of ecstasy and the hard friction of his plundering meat. Bridget sobbed as she struggled beneath him, fighting the tension that was coiling so tightly inside of her, not wanting to give this man the triumph of knowing she'd found pleasure in his harsh treatment of her body.

But even though Samuel might be more sadistic than Garrett or Blaine, he still knew how to pleasure a woman as well, and as he felt Bridget's defenses giving way beneath him, he changed the tempo of his thrusts, grinding himself against her body as he slammed home. Leaning forward slightly pushed him against that aching nub that sent sizzling heat through her veins and she cried out in dismay as she found herself thrusting her hips upwards to meet him, her legs curling around the backs of his thighs to urge him onwards. She lost herself in the need, the heat, forgetting where she was and what was happening to her in favor of her body's desires. 

Her climax was hard, ripping through her with harsh pleasure. This was no gentle wave, it grabbed her and tossed her about, slamming her into the sand and then rocking her body back again. Bridget writhed, her wet and overused tunnel fluttering around Samuel, massaging him wonderfully. The sadistic bandit groaned, overwhelmed by the sensations of her sudden orgasm, and pumped hard as he joined her in her release, drawing out her sobbing pleasure. 

Rolling off of her almost abruptly he smirked at Garrett. "Considering how much she enjoyed me, maybe she didn't need your special attentions after all." Then he walked off.

Bridget closed her eyes in shame that she had found the same kind of release with Samuel as she had with Garrett, although it wasn't quite the same. Now that it was over her entire body seemed to ache. When she tried to close her legs she whimpered as the aching muscles protested. 

"Keep your legs open," Garrett said softly, right next to her ear. Bridget gasped in surprise as she opened her eyes to find him kneeling beside her, and then gasped again as something warm and wet pressed between her legs. He had a soft damp clothe pressed against her bruised flesh and it felt wonderfully curative. 

"Thank you," she whispered, not sure why he was treating her so well but grateful for it anyway. 

"Don't thank me," he said roughly. "You've already gotten an example of what life is going to be like for you for a while. It doesn't stop now. All three of us are going to keep enjoying your body. There's nothing to thank me for."

"Yes there is," she insisted. Bridget wasn't stupid. She had known what to expect almost from the moment the men had captured them, although of course some part of her had hoped for some kind of reprieve right up until it was happening. "It could have been so much worse."

Garrett's mouth tightened but he didn't argue with her and his hand remained gentle as he cleaned her. The heat soothed the hurt from her flesh and after a few minutes she was able to get up and put her clothes back on, discarding the layer of skirts that was now stained with the evidence of blood and fluid. She would have to wash it before wearing it again. 

Between her legs ached, although Garrett heated her another clothe by the fire. He did the same for the Princess. Bridget was shocked to see the Princess practically simpering at Patrick, the same way she had to handsome young nobles at home. She wondered if the Princess was doing it to try and protect herself or if she had somehow found herself truly attached to the leader. He wasn't bad looking after all. Maybe the Princess was just making up to him to avoid Bridget's fate. After all, better to be the toy of one man than three. Bridget shivered every time Samuel sent her a lascivious look, remembering that earlier Garrett had said Samuel wouldn't be so rough since he'd already found his pleasure in her mouth. That was less rough? She shuddered to think of how brutally he might have treated her otherwise.

The men talked and laughed, ignoring the women. Blaine seemed to be ignoring her presence entirely. Despite his words to her earlier, Garrett seemed to have taken on responsibility for her, giving her a tea that he said would help the aches in her body. He gave one to the Princess too and she simpered up at him as well. Quietly, Bridget drank her tea, wondering what was going to happen next. Escape didn't seem like a viable option, considering that she had no idea where they were and she was pretty sure the men would be able to hunt her down easily. And she didn't want to think about what a punishment might be like. Also she wouldn't survive very long without supplies and who knew what kind of wild animals might be around in the forest. Here there was some semblance of safety, although apparently she was expected to pay for that with her body.

Shooting a little glance at Garrett, she was overcome by conflicting emotions. On the surface he seemed the kindest out of the men, but he kept warning her not to think so. And it was true that he had used her, just as much as Blaine and Samuel had. But he'd always gone out of his way to pleasure her as well and to keep Samuel from damaging her. He wasn't exactly an enemy but he wasn't exactly an ally either. Even if he did keep doing things to help relieve some of the harshness of the situation. 

"What's your name?" Garrett interrupted her reverie.

"Bridget," she replied softly, looking down at her empty cup of tea. It really had seemed to work, the aches had receded to the point where she was feeling rather drowsy. 

"Come on Bridget, we're going to bed." 




Being the Maid Ch. 01



Samuel glared at them as she followed Garrett to the larger tent that was set up, but he didn't say anything. She wondered at their apparent rivalry. 

To her surprise Garrett pulled her into his bedroll and curled up around her. She tensed, waiting for him to take his pleasure again. The hard ridge of his manhood was pressing against her back. 

"Relax," he murmured into her ear. "You're not ready for more tonight. That's why Patrick is letting you sleep with me. Blaine would probably let you rest but Samuel wouldn't."

"Why are you doing this?" she whispered back, confused. "Why are you taking care of me?"

There was a long moment of silence and when he answered his voice was harsh. "Because you'll last longer this way."

Bridget shivered involuntarily. "Are you saying that eventually you'll kill me?"

Another long moment of silence as if he was making a decision. She tensed, waiting on his answer, holding her breath because she didn't think she could possibly take in any air until she knew. 

"No. I won't let them kill you," he said quietly. "But keeping you healthy and sane is to all our benefit."

It made sense. An insane woman wouldn't care about running off into the woods or even attacking the men, no matter the odds. And she'd seen firsthand why they wanted a healthy woman around. Especially since Patrick didn't seem inclined to share Princess Eleanor. 

Surprisingly Bridget felt some how reassured despite herself. Closing her eyes, she felt Garrett's presence like a protective cocoon around her. Even knowing it was an illusion, it helped her drift off to an exhausted slumber.



Being the Maid Ch. 02



Author's Note: This is the second chapter in a series, I definitely suggest starting with the first =) They don't work as well as standalone chapters. 

This particular chapter contains a lot of oral sex, a MFM threesome, regular sex, and anal play/sex. Are there some things that are a little anachronistic? Yeah maybe. Think of it as a little bit of fantasy. ;) And enjoy! 

*********

Bridget woke up as the body behind her shifted. She went from a peaceful slumber to the hard shock of reality as the arm around her middle tightened, pulling her against the muscular body of the man curled around her. The hard ridge of flesh against the soft curve of her bottom was a bit of a shock, although it shouldn't have been. Between her thighs still ached from the attentions of the three men yesterday. Her heart sank as she wondered if she was going to have to service them again, sure that she couldn't take it. Yesterday Garrett had managed to make some parts of her ordeal pleasant, more than pleasant really now that she knew what all the fuss of copulating was about, but just trying to move her legs had her wincing this morning.  

"Time to get up," his deep voice rumbled, arm loosening around her. Closing her eyes she bit her lip and readied herself to endure. Instead, she felt the warmth behind her vanish and looked up to see him standing over her. "Come on Bridget, you're going to make us breakfast."  

Breakfast. Alright, she could do that.  With a fearful glance at the two sleeping figures still in the tent, Bridget followed Garrett out into the clear morning line. Fortunately as her muscles loosened with movement, the ache between her legs subsided a little as well, and she was able to walk almost normally by the time she'd prepared porridge and thick, meaty chunks of bacon. Garrett did camp chores around her, allowing the others to sleep in.  

"Why isn't anyone else helping?" she asked abruptly, curious as to why he was the only one up and moving. "Do you always open camp on your own?"  

"Pretty much," he said, not looking at her as he rearranged the coals. "I'm an early riser naturally. Sam and Blaine take care of the end of day stuff and keeping watch throughout the night. So don't think that you'll be able to sneak off just because I'm sleeping."  

"I wasn't," she said quietly. "At the moment here is preferable to lost and surrounded by hungry wolves."  

Now he did look at her, his expression warring between amusement and warning. "I'm glad you realize that. Just don't forget it. There's nothing and no one nearby to give you aid. You wouldn't last a day on your own. Although we'd find you before that. Would you like to bathe?"  

The abrupt change of topic sent her reeling a bit, but she nodded. Garrett took her to a stream that wasn't far away, filling up containers with water and watching as she cleaned herself. She had also brought down the skirt which had soaked up most of the evidence of yesterday's activities and she did her best to wash it. The water was cold but clean and it did help her to feel better to be clean all over. Bathing with Garrett nearby was no hardship. He barely looked at her, although she'd sent plenty of nervous glances at him as she'd stripped down, to make sure that he wasn't thinking anything untoward of her.  She dressed quickly and he took a turn in the stream, admonishing her not to try and run. 

Unlike him, she couldn't stop herself from peeking at him as he bathed. Not that he was anywhere near as modest as she was about it. Cavorting naked didn't seem to bother him at all. Yesterday she had been too frightened and overwhelmed to really pay attention to the difference between the male and female form. Now she was getting her first opportunity to really look at a man's body. He had a lot of muscles, his body seemingly built of hard lines and ridges. The hanging piece between his legs looked unthreatening compared to the hard shaft she knew it could turn into.  

When he looked up and caught her peeking she blushed crimson and turned her head away, hating that he'd seen her curiosity. Bridget wondered at her calm about the situation. She felt almost as though she was stuck in a world of illusion, a world that she'd made on her own in order to convince herself that everything was all right. Being around Garrett made her feel safe and she knew that was stupid. He had been the first one to have her, after all, and hadn't stopped Sam from doing whatever he wanted with her. That's what she had to remember. When the other men woke up it would be a lot harder for her to act as if everything was normal.  

And what had happened to the Princess last night? She assumed that Eleanor had spent the night in Patrick's smaller tent. Was she fighting her fright as much as Bridget was? Did she hurt the same way Bridget did?  

"Come on." A bucket full of water sloshed in front of her and Bridget stood, taking it without a word and obediently following Garrett back to the camp. She looked at their surroundings as she walked, the light filtering through the trees was so serenely beautiful that it was almost hard to believe that there was anything wrong in the world.  When they returned to the camp the others were up and moving. Princess Eleanor looked incredibly subdued kneeling beside where Patrick was sitting, both of them eating breakfast but she was having to use her hands. The look of fury that she shot Bridget said that she clearly did not appreciate her maid seeing her in this position. Bridget looked away, her expression carefully blank as she pretended that she didn't notice the Princess' open bodice or the disheveled state of her hair.  

"Good, you're back. Come here girl, I've got something for your breakfast," Samuel said, striding out of the tent and heading for Bridget. She froze, staring at him like a frightened doe. Beside her Garrett did nothing, calmly setting down his buckets of water and moving around the campsite to get his own breakfast. Obviously she wasn't going to get any help from him this time. "On your knees."  

Clenching her hands into her skirts Bridget got on her knees, telling herself that she should be thankful that he didn't want to get between her legs. She was far too sore and it didn't look like Garrett would be helping to ease the passage if Samuel changed his mind about how he wanted to be pleasured. Looking up at his cruel face she felt her stomach sinking at the smile she saw there. His hand fisted in the back of her hair, pulling her forward as he used his other hand to free himself from his unlaced breeches.  

Automatically her lips parted, taking him between them as she cried out, the tugging on her hair sparking tears in her eyes with the stinging pain. The soft cry was muffled as he shoved his meat in, musky and salty on her tongue. His groin still smelled like sex from yesterday and she knew that while he might have cleaned himself a little, he definitely hadn't bathed. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the Princess watching her debasement and flushed with shame, closing her eyes. Of course, with her eyes closed there was nothing to concentrate on but the steady, meaty thrust of male back and forth in her mouth, the struggle to breathe as he pressed deeper and deeper into her throat.

Remembering Garrett's advice from yesterday, Bridget concentrated on swallowing in order to make it easier on herself. The animalistic grunts from Samuel as he plundered her soft mouth turned her stomach a little, hating that she had to listen to his sounds of satisfaction as he used her. Her hands were pressed against his thighs, but pushing against him didn't slow his pace at all, he didn't even seem to notice. 

Finally he spilled down her throat and she swallowed the warm fluid, gagging a little as the swollen head of his cock rubbed against the back of her throat. Samuel held her face against him as he finished his pleasure and then released her, letting her slump down on her knees and heading over to get his breakfast without a second glance. She sucked in sweet lungfuls of air, relieved to be able to breathe freely again. Truly, having him use her mouth wasn't so bad, but when he finished she'd barely been able to breathe at all. 

"Come on girl, come eat and then you can do me," Blaine said as he walked by her. 

Trembling, Bridget got to her feet and came to the campfire. Princess Eleanor was done with her own breakfast and was now kneeling between Patrick's legs, her head bobbing up and down over his crotch. For a moment Bridget watched in a kind of mortified fascination, then a bowl with porridge and egg was shoved into her hands and she looked up to see Garrett looking down at her, one eyebrow raised. He'd seen her looking at Patrick and the Princess. Furious with herself, she stared at nothing but the bowl in her hands as she ate her breakfast, happy to wash the taste of Samuel out of her mouth with the food and the crisply cold water.

As the bowl emptied she slowed her bites, trying to linger. Princess Eleanor was no longer servicing Patrick, she was now having to do the dishes and Bridget was very carefully avoiding looking in that direction at all after the one biting glance she'd gotten from the Princess. Even though they were in the same position, although in Bridget's opinion the Princess had it a little better considering that there was only one man she had to please, it was hard to miss the waves of resentment coming off the other woman. It suddenly occurred to Bridget that perhaps the Princess was angry because she thought that Bridget should be doing the chores.  A shadow loomed over her and she looked up to see Blaine. The almost boyish looking man was a lot more threatening when he was standing over her like that, a very masculine expression on his young looking face.  

"If you want to finish your breakfast you'd better hurry," he warned her. "I'm not going to wait much longer."  Realizing that she couldn't put off the inevitable, Bridget finished her meal. She didn't know what the day was going to bring, but she knew that she wanted to fortify herself as much as possible.   

To her surprise, Blaine didn't stand in front of her the way Samuel had; instead, when she finished her breakfast he set her bowl off to the side and slid her off of the tree trunk she was sitting on, setting her down to kneel in front of him as he took her seat. His breaches were already open and he reached in, pulling out his manhood, which wasn't fully erect.  Nodding down at his groin he leaned back and watched her. 

"Go ahead. I'm not like Samuel, I prefer you to do the work. You can start off by licking me."  Tentatively Bridget placed her hands on his thighs and leaned forward, letting her tongue slide over the tip. She almost jumped back when the soft flesh jerked, hardening as she watched. 

"Keep going," Blaine said, his voice rough. She glanced up to see him watching her and blushed. 

"You're being too soft with her," Samuel complained from behind her. "Give a smack on the rump, that'll smarten her up."

Fearful of the cruel man behind her, Bridget bent to her task, licking around the mushroom shaped head and down the shaft as Blaine let out a low moan. His hand slipped into her hair, but he didn't grab it or pull it like Samuel did, he just caressed the back of her head, still allowing her control over her movements. Pleasuring a man this way wasn't nearly as objectionable and she found herself relaxing into it, licking him with soft swipes of her tongue all up and down his shaft. 

"Good," Blaine complimented her. "Now open that pretty mouth and suck on me."

Hesitantly Bridget complied, taking him into her mouth, shooting fearful little glances up at him, sure that at any moment he was going to push down on the back of her head or thrust forward into her throat, the way Samuel did. But Blaine just groaned in contentment and let her move at her own pace, bobbing her head up and down. It suddenly occurred to her that Patrick must prefer to be pleasured this way as well; her current movements were mimicking what she'd seen Princess Eleanor doing earlier. 

Suddenly she wondered how Garrett would prefer it.

Blaine put his hand over hers and moved her to the sack hanging beneath his shaft. "Gently, touch here. Massage me, tug a little bit, but gently."

For a rebellious moment Bridget wanted to be anything but gentle, but she squashed that impulse down. So far Blaine hadn't been cruel to her and she didn't want that to change, she was already frightened of Samuel. Hurting Blaine would do nothing but make her situation worse. It was better if she just accepted her current lot in life and looked for an opportunity to escape when it was actually feasible.  

Closing her eyes she concentrated on moving her head up and down, cradling the soft sack in her hands, feeling the two lumps that were contained there and rolling them through her fingers. From his soft groans and the way his fingers moved in her hair she could tell that Blaine liked that. Moving her head up and down, she found that when she actually sucked on him, as he'd requested, he would thrust his hips forward, although not nearly as violently as Samuel. Eager to get through this, she did what she could, following the indicators of his fingers against the back of her head, the movements of his hips, and his low groans to bring him to culmination.  

She couldn't fit as much of him into her mouth on her own as Samuel was able to force into her, but Blaine didn't seem to mind. He grew thicker and harder, his hand pressing on the back of her head more insistently, and then he groaned very loudly and fluid spilled into her mouth. Swallowing frantically, Bridget could taste the salty muskiness much more because he wasn't completely in the back of her throat. Blaine held her there as he enjoyed his climax to repletion and then had her continue sucking until he softened against her tongue.  

"All done," he said, patting her head almost as if she was a dog.  Feeling slightly confused about the experience and her own participation in the abasement of her body, Bridget sat back and stayed kneeling as the men moved around her, packing up the camp. Princess Eleanor was also on her knees, done with cleaning up after their meal, and facing away from Bridget. Both of the women waited silently for what the day would bring.  

*******  

Despite the new circumstances, Bridget found that she was still enjoying travel. It was obvious that neither she nor the Princess were to be trusted on their own horses, even though the horses were tied to leads attached to Samuel's and Blaine's saddles. Instead she was seated with Garrett again and the Princess was with Patrick. Samuel had protested the arrangement but Patrick had put his foot down, saying that Garrett was the better horseman as well as being more likely in keeping the 'bounty' in good condition. While she didn't like being referred to as 'bounty,' she was relieved to be on the horse with Garrett. She felt much safer with him or Blaine than with Samuel.  

Garrett allowed her to sit behind him, whereas she could see Princess Eleanor seated in front of Patrick, one hand on his reins and the other roaming inside her clothing. She was sure that if she'd been on Samuel's saddle then she'd be in the same position and she shuddered to think of how the cruel man might abuse her poor, tender body if he had access to it all day. Instead she was able to watch the passing scenery, much as she had before they'd been captured, and enjoy the fresh air and riding a horse. Granted, riding behind a man, her legs split around his backside, was very different from riding on her own horse, but she still enjoyed the exercise. And being pressed up against Garrett wasn't all bad, the beauty of the forest was distracting enough that she was almost able to forget. A few times she even forgot herself so far as to lay her head against his broad back when she started to tire, before remembering who he was and straightening herself up again.  

"Oh!" she exclaimed suddenly, her voice soft but distinct enough that Garrett heard her and looked over his shoulder. Seeing him turn she blushed, anxious at having caught his attention. Most of the ride had been made in silence, other than a few ribald comments from Samuel about the Princess Eleanor and occasional orders from Patrick for rest periods.  

"What?"  

"Nothing," she mumbled, looking down, feeling even more awkward at having her arms around him.  

"What is it, Bridget?" he asked again, his voice a little firmer as if warning her that he would brook no dissembling from her.  

She sighed. "It's nothing, really. I just saw a doe and fawn, over there." Bridget gestured back the way they'd come, still not looking up at his face, worrying that she would be punished for the noise she'd made.  But Garrett just turned around, saying nothing. It made her feel stupid to have drawn attention to herself for something so ordinary.  

To her surprise, Garrett pointed out a few more animals to her, a fox, a black squirrel and some colorful birds, when they passed by them during the afternoon, as well as some small clumps of flowers and any other sights he seemed to think might interest her. It made the ride even more enjoyable and part of her hated him for that, because she didn't think she should be enjoying any part of being kidnapped. And almost every part that she had enjoyed had been at the hands of this man, whom she had no choice but to wrap her arms around and press her body against him as they rode.  

*****  

After they reached the campsite, as Blaine and Samuel were setting things up and Patrick was tending to his own tent - Princess Eleanor was kneeling not too far from him, her hands bound in front of her. Bridget wondered what the other woman had done to merit that, but she didn't have a lot of time to think about it because Garrett was hauling her face down over his lap so that her stomach was pressed against his thighs and her head was hanging down on one side with her legs on the other.  

"What are you doing?" she cried out, too surprised to hold her tongue.  

"Preparing you," he said. Bridget squirmed as he lifted up her skirts and palmed her bottom, feeling a shivery sensation ripple through her at the touch of his flesh against hers. The intimacy of it was still strange to her, despite the fact that this man had been inside her. After a day of journeying, the events of the night before and the morning seemed far away and dream like, as if her mind was protecting her by pushing them away where they could do her no harm. Garrett rubbed his hand over her backside and down her thighs, squeezing slightly as if just enjoying touching her body. In this position all of her blood seemed to be gathering in her head, making her dizzy as her pulse throbbed.  

Fingers brushed over her sex, teasing the sensitive and sore folds. She was horrified that when his fingers pressed between the outer lips to realize that she was wet, the same way she had been last night, and that part of her enjoyed the intimate touch. Then his fingers moved away and she felt him moving around as he took something from his pocket. With his arm heavy across her back, holding her in place, she wasn't able to do anything more than squeal as something cool and slick rubbed against her bumhole.  

"What are you doing?!" she asked again, this time too outraged to care about repercussions. Her hands scrabbled in the dirt as she tried to kick out at him, tried to get away. A sharp smack to her bottom had her gasping with shock, but she kept struggling, earning herself a few more slaps that made her yelp as her creamy skin reddened under the assault and the sharp pain flashed through her. Shockingly she could feel a little of that flame coiling inside of her, that heat that had preceded the ecstatic release she'd experienced yesterday.  




Being the Maid Ch. 02



"Hold still," he ordered. "Trust me little girl, you don't want Samuel to fuck your ass without any kind of preparation, and he will."  

The horrifying words made Bridget shudder in horror even as her body went limp in compliance, the crude words assaulting her senses as a finger pushed into her backside. She whimpered at the slight burn as her tight hole was penetrated, her mind reeling from the idea that someone might want to 'fuck' her there. Although she'd never heard the word before, the graphic intrusion left her no doubt as the meaning. Good God... whyyyyyyy?  

Completely humiliated she hung her head and let her tears fall to the ground, listening to the crude jests of the men as they watched Garrett finger her bumhole, her backside throbbing from the spanks that he'd given her. Her mortification was actually worse than the pain, especially when the burn slowly dwindled and she realized that her body was starting to accept the penetration, that part of her wanted to move her hips back against it!  

Patrick laughed as she squirmed on Garrett's lap. "See that Princess?" his voice was mocking. "Come here and suck me. If you make it good then I'll let Garrett prep you too before I fuck that sweet royal ass."  

All of the men laughed uproariously. Feeling like she was caught in some kind of nightmare, Bridget watched as the Princess clenched her fists and bowed her head, moving over to grudgingly fall to her knees in front of the bandit leader. It was appalling, but she couldn't help but feel relief as the men turned their attention to the other woman's actions as she took Patrick into her mouth, head moving back and forth, rather than focusing on Bridget.  Then Garrett's finger slid out of her and she relaxed, hoping that her torment was over, only to have to stifle a whimper as his finger returned, this time joined by another. The stretching burned, as did the friction, although he'd put more of whatever was in his pocket on his fingers, easing the passage of his probing digits. The hand on her lower back massaged her muscles. 

As she tried to find something to think about, anything else to think about, she finally realized what the hard bulge pressing against her stomach was. Garrett really was enjoying what he was doing to her, it wasn't just Samuel!  She couldn't help but feel a little betrayed that he was aroused by this sick act, by putting his fingers into a place that nothing should ever be put into!  Or was it smacking her buttocks that had aroused him? Or watching Eleanor pleasure Patrick with her mouth? Suddenly Bridget found herself wishing that she'd paid more attention, she needed to know what these men wanted, what they enjoyed, if she was going to survive this.  

"That's it, good girl," Garrett murmured. Bridget wondered what he was complimenting her on and then almost groaned as she realized that she'd become so distracted that her body had started reacting automatically; she'd been too focused on her anxieties to stop herself and she had started pressing her lower body against Garrett's hard thigh, her hips moving as he mimicked copulation with his fingers and her bumhole. It didn't hurt at all anymore and she nearly wept with shame at how good it had started to feel.  

When he removed his fingers this time, Bridget didn't relax immediately and she quickly found that she'd been right not to. Something hard and cool pressed against her crinkled hole, pushing inwards. It was slightly bigger around than his fingers and utterly unyielding. She whimpered as the thing pushed her open, struggling again, trying to get away from the burning invasion. Garrett's arm pressed down on her back, holding her in place as she began to plead with him to let her up.  

Then she gasped as she felt a small pop and whatever it was lodged inside of her, her walls clenching around it. Part of it remained sticking out of her, a flat base that pressed against her cheeks as the rest of it shifted uncomfortably inside of her.  

"Very nice," said Garrett approvingly. His hand drifted down to her plump feminine lips again and he laughed as he found evidence that she hadn't been as averse to the anal plundering as she'd seemed. "Ah... such a sweet, wet cunt. I liked doing that too, little maid."  

"I didn't like it!' protested Bridget. "What did you do to me?"  

His hand tapped on the base of the thing in her bum, jolting it and making her gasp. "This is a trick used by whores to make themselves ready for men. And if you didn't enjoy it, which I think you're lying, I know I did."  

And with that he tumbled her off of his lap, one hand gripping her upper arm so that her knees fell to the ground while her upper body remained upright so that she ended up kneeling in front of him. With his free hand he was undoing his breeches, leaving her no doubt as to what he wanted from her right now. Dismayed, Bridget felt tears spark in her eyes as her bottom clenched around the awful thing inside of it, a whore's thing! She only had a moment to wonder how Garrett would know what whores did before he was pulling her mouth onto his erection and her attention was diverted.  

Like Blaine, Garrett obviously preferred her to do the work, although he kept one hand on the back of her head with his fingers entwined in her hair, he didn't force her down onto his thick shaft. He also didn't seem to want the teasing licks that Blaine had so enjoyed, just her hot, wet mouth engulfing him. Reaching into her bodice with his other hand, he cupped her breast and squeezed, idly running his thumb over her nipple and teasing the sensitive bud to hardness, increasing the need that she was trying to deny between her thighs.  

A shadow covering her form was the only warning she had before her skirt was being tugged down to her knees on the ground and someone knelt behind her on her skirts, effectively trapping her as her lower legs were caught in the fabric and Garrett was holding her head in place in his groin. Bridget whimpered as fingers probed at her tender folds and then something blunt and hot pressed into her body, thrusting forward and impaling her with one hard lunge. Her scream, as her body was stretched open, was muffled by the thick meat in her mouth, it pressed down her throat as her cries opened her further.  

"What about me?" she heard Blaine say off to the side, sounding both amused and disappointed.  "It's your turn to have her in your bedroll tonight," replied Samuel from behind her. Bridget should have realized it was him, the way he was tightening his fingers on her hips as he pummeled her from behind, obviously enjoying her discomfort as she adjusted to the large intrusion and the battering of her sore feminine folds. "You have her all night."  Bridget moaned as Samuel leaned forward so that his thrusts bumped against the thing in her bottom. She felt incredibly full, much tighter around his thrusting member, as if the thing in her bottom was taking up too much space inside of her body, leaving less for him. As her hands flexed on Garrett's thighs, she found herself pushing back against Samuel. Even though she fought it, the need that was coiling in her belly was beginning to overtake her determination not to climax for them again. Especially not for Samuel.  

But Garrett's hand caressing her breast and pinching her nipple had her squirming, the fullness of her bumhole was starting to feel good again as sensations she'd never felt before rippled through her, and the rough friction of Sam's energetic thrusts was having its effect on her body, despite her soreness and her intentions. As Samuel filled her from behind, his groin slamming into her bottom, her mouth was forced down further onto Garrett's hardness. The small mewling noises that escaped her caused him to moan, his hand tightening on her hair as he started to thrust upwards against the movements of her mouth.  She felt like she was drowning in sensation, the aching soreness of her body somehow melding with the hot need and shocking pleasure that was rising inside of her. There must be something wrong with her, she thought in a spurt of sexual despair, that her body would respond like this, especially to the pain that Samuel was causing, which was starting to feel far too good.  

Inside of her she could feel Samuel swelling, pushing against the tight confines of her body, his hard length turning unyielding and steel like. Bridget cried out as she shuddered around him, the instinctive responses of her body taking over as her inner confliction peaked and the ecstasy tore through her, running riot over her defenses and taking her for an unwilling rapturous ride. Samuel's fingers tightened on her hips even further and he bellowed as he shoved deep, pulsing inside of her as he released frothy jets of seed into her body. The vibrations of her moans obviously effected Garrett as she took him deep into her throat, pushed onto him by Samuel's force of motion.  

Her throat worked automatically as Garrett groaned and spilled his own load down her throat, his hand pressing tightly to the back of her head and holding her in place until he was finished. Samuel had already moved away by the time Garrett released her and she slumped down fully onto her knees, closing her eyes in shame of her body's betrayal. Even worse, Garrett stroked her hair almost comfortingly, her head resting against his thigh, and part of her didn't want to move.  

"Pick up your toy," Patrick said, sounding amused. "It's the Princess' turn to be plugged."  All of the men laughed at his turn of phrase as Garrett gently pulled Bridget's hair back to bring her upright, taking her by the hand and lifting her up.  

"Come on," said Blaine, taking charge of her. The bulge at the front of his pants made Bridget want to groan. It was like these men set each other off, once one started the others followed suit! "Time for dinner and then we're going to bed early." 

The gleam in his eye said that he was looking forward to satisfying himself in her body now that it was his turn to have her in his bedroll. Bridget was grateful that she got dinner first.  Sitting on the plug was uncomfortable, its rigid length making her shift back and forth as she tried to ignore the strange sensation, as well as the tenderness of her womanly parts after Samuel's energetic abuse of her body for his pleasure. Sticky wetness was leaking from her and onto her thighs, but she did her best to ignore it as she ate the meaty soup that Blaine provided her.  

There was so much to ignore. The juices leaking down her legs. The sensitivity of her body and the heavy feeling of satiation between her legs Samuel's leering presence and the way he was avidly watching the Princess' degradation, occasionally looking at Bridget as though he'd like to sate himself in her body again. The Princess' mewling cries as Garrett filled her backside under Patrick's watchful eye. Bridget knew exactly how she felt, but she didn't want to look or watch. It felt wrong to be a witness to someone else's degradation. However, she couldn't quite block out the groans and small yelps and wonder if that's how she sounded as well.  

After eating she cleaned the dishes and took the opportunity to clean between her legs with a wet clothe. The wait for food seemed to have cooled Blaine's urgent need and he and Samuel seemed to prefer to have her do the work while they sat and enjoyed themselves with a dicing game while the others ate. This was the first time since their capture that Bridget had been able to get close to the Princess, but the other woman only glared at her when she tried to approach. So she backed off. Perhaps the Princess was worried about getting in trouble if they tried to talk.  Mealtime seemed to be over all too soon and Garrett was replacing Blaine at the dicing game with Samuel as Patrick and the Princess disappeared into his tent. Stretching as he stood up, Blaine grinned in anticipation. He was so boyishly good looking that Bridget could almost pretend he was an ardent young suitor from town, a respectable and unthreatening young man. Of course, that only lasted until he opened his mouth.  

"Come on little maid," he said as he came towards her. "Time for bed." 

The masculine smugness in his voice was daunting, but she followed after him quietly. There was no where else for her to go.  

"My turn tomorrow," she heard Samuel say as she and Blaine headed towards the tent and she shuddered. The cruel man frightened her. Unlike Garrett and Blaine he truly seemed to enjoy it when she was frightened or hurting. Blaine was just indifferent to it, which she could deal with much better than Garrett's occasional and confusing kindnesses.  Inside the tent there was the illusion of an intimate setting, she and Blaine were alone with only the extra two bedrolls for company. Garrett and Samuel's voices were only a murmur of sound.  

"Lay down," Blaine said, unlacing his breeches. The urgency in his voice reminded Bridget that this man had had to wait while Garrett and Samuel took their turns with her and she became a little more anxious as he climbed on top of her without preamble. Fortunately she still had some residual wetness between her legs or it would have hurt a lot more as he shoved into her tender folds, his indifference towards her in this case turning into something almost painful. 

Bridget bit down on her lip to keep from crying out as Blaine began pumping on top of her, his breathing harsh and ragged, body slamming against her tender thighs as he used her like she was truly the toy that Patrick had called her. She couldn't help the small whimpers that escaped her as he sawed back and forth, but the sounds she was making were drowned out by his low groans as he pleasured himself. After the more sensual ministrations of Garrett, she found herself confused as to whether or not be thankful that Blaine made no effort to include her pleasure in his.  

Enduring his rough thrusts, Bridget could feel her inner channel slickening, a defense against Blaine's plundering assault. She gasped with relief as she felt his body tense against her; he shoved in deeply and his hard rod pulsed, filling her with a generous flood of cream. Bridget moaned softly, the sore ache between her legs feeling much more sharp now that it was over.  

Standing up, Blaine grinned at her happily. "I needed that. Strip down now, I want you naked before I get back in here."  

And with that he walked outside. For a moment Bridget lay there frozen and then she quickly stood and stripped off of her clothes. Feeling incredibly vulnerable she slipped under his blanket, curling up and gingerly touching the stickiness between her thighs. Her poor sex felt swollen and tender. Reaching back further she bit her lip as she encountered the cool metal of the plug inside of her, wondering if she dared take it out. Wondering if she even could.  

Outside she could hear the men laughing as Blaine requested Garrett's 'oil' and she could also hear the cries and pleas coming from Patrick's tent. The Princess sounded like she was begging, although Bridget couldn't tell what she was begging for. She wondered if the Princess also found occasional moments of ecstasy, some of the sounds she was hearing were remarkably similar to the ones she knew she'd made herself. The comments from the men seemed to confirm that, as they joked about how her royal highness was enjoying herself in a very common way.  

Then the tent was opening again and Blaine stepped back inside, his eyes immediately going to the small pile of clothes that she'd left neatly folded at the base of his bedroll. Seeing her covered by the blanket he just laughed.  

"No need for modesty, little maid," he said, almost teasingly. Bridget felt completely out of her depth at his almost jocular tone, having him address her almost as if they were friends. "So far I've liked everything I've seen."  

She blushed. She couldn't help it, and that seemed to amuse him even further. When he grabbed the blanket and pulled it from her body she squeaked as she tried to cover herself with her hands. Blaine ignored her attempts and peeled her arm off of her breasts, sighing happily as he cupped them and nuzzled his face into the soft flesh. Somehow having his body covering her own seemed to help with her sense of outraged modesty; at least if one of the other men in the tent came in they wouldn't be able to see her naked body, Blaine's would block the view. 

It was almost surprising how much he seemed to enjoy her breasts, not just squeezing them, but also playing with the rigid little nipples, twisting them with his fingers and sucking them into his mouth. He lavished his attention on them, seeming to enjoy himself with the touching. The small noises she made in the back of her throat and her squirming, even the tugging on his hair as he bit down on one sensitive nub, seemed to be just incidentals which he ignored. Blaine just wanted to enjoy her breasts, not seeming to care how she reacted as long as she didn't try to stop him. 

Unfortunately, Bridget was enjoying his touch on her breasts just as much as him, and it was becoming harder for her to hide it. Her breasts and nipples weren't nearly as sore and abused as her sex and the bounty of attention being heaped on them was causing that slow burn in her stomach to rise again. It had already been stirred by Blaine's time between her thighs, despite his unconcern with her desires, and now she felt that molten heat curling and licking at her core. Heedless of her little noises, Blaine continued to enjoy her soft curves, his manhood already erect again against her thigh, but he seemed to be more interested in playing with her upper body than in sinking into her for the moment. 

The little nips and tugs he was giving her breasts made Bridget's hips jerk upwards instinctively, her fingers threaded through his hair pulled him in closer as he sucked one rosy bud deeper into his mouth. She moved against him without thinking, the suckling of her sweet nipple going through her like a lightening strike, straight to her center. When she pushed her hips against him, his hard body pressed down on her mound, rubbing against the sensitive bud there and making her writhe beneath him as the pleasure jolted through her.

"Mmmmm, I like that you're so responsive," Blaine said as he pulled away and turned her over onto her hands and knees, pulling her hips towards him as he ran an appreciative hand over her bottom, lingering on the plug that was nestled between her creamy cheeks. "I'm starting to think Garrett is right about it being more fun if you're squirming for it."

Bridget hung her head in shame, hating that he could now see the puffy, swollen and slick folds of her womanhood. They were wet with her own desire, not just the culmination of his. 

Then he tugged at the plug and she let out a little squeak and then a long low groan as he gently eased it from her body. Her muscles all relaxed as she was emptied of the unyielding metal. Letting out a long sigh of relief, Bridget didn't even protest as an oiled finger pushed into her rear, it was so much less intrusive than the plug.

"Very nice," Blaine said approvingly. Apparently he was feeling rather chatter. "I thought Garrett was crazy when he first started bringing out this stuff, but I have to say sometimes he does know what he's talking about."

Unsure if he wanted an answer or not, Bridget just closed her eyes and stayed silent, trying not to think about the second finger that was now pushing into her backside. The plug had loosened her up considerably and the movement of his fingers was giving her the strangest sensations. Then his fingers were gone and she could hear him rubbing oil over himself. 

The hard, blunt head of his manhood bumped against her prepared bumhole and Bridget whimpered in fear. Gripping her hips tightly, Blaine began to ease his way into her body, a slow, long thrust that made both of them groan. The thick shaft burned as it pushed deeply into her, giving her a slight ache in her gut as the head opened up her narrow passageway, but the intrusion had none of the sharp pain she'd expected from the insertion of the plug. The strange instrument had done its job well, loosening up the entryway to her body so that Blaine had no trouble fitting his thick meat into her backside. 




Being the Maid Ch. 02



"God that's good," he groaned as his hips ground against her soft backside, making his entire length bounce inside of her. Bridget moaned and clenched down, shuddering as the tightening of her muscles caused a sharp throbbing ache in her lower body. Blaine certainly appreciated it though, as her inner walls rippled over his invading cock. Leaning forward he reached underneath her body to grasp her breasts, one in each hand, fingers unerringly finding her nipples to pinch as he began to draw back out of her.

Crying out at the strange sensation, Bridget found herself leaning forward so that her weight was on her forearms, letting her head rest on the backs of her hands. Her body grasped at Blaine's receding member as he pulled away and then she let out a small shriek as he plowed forward again. That initial lunge done, he began moving with earnest, slowly increasing his tempo and intensity as he thrust purposefully in and out of her, able to maintain control and a slow pace after having sated his initial lust in the more traditional way earlier.

Unfortunately for Bridget, that just meant more time for her body to become adjusted to this awful and unnatural intrusion. More time for him to play with her breasts and fan the flames in her, that had started to dwindle, back up to a needy fire. He was taking her from behind, like a beast, and in the wrong place. It should be the most horrific experience of her life and yet it wasn't that bad. In fact it was starting to feel rather good as he slid back and forth in her dark hole. This new experience relieved the pressure on her womanhood, allowed her tender folds a much needed respite, and yet stirred sensations inside of it anyway. 

Her low moans were coming almost non-stop, interspersed with mutters. "No.... no... oh please... no..." Her pleas were partly for Blaine but mostly for herself, begging her body not to respond, not to let this unnatural act feel so pleasurable. 

Blaine's hands squeezed and kneaded her breasts as he took his time, luxuriating in the tight heat of her backside. There were times when Bridget found herself pushing back against him, her little hole tightening down on him, increasing the burning friction that made her spasm with surprising jolts of pleasure. Then, as his pace began to pick up, indicating his oncoming release, she cried out as the hardened rod plundered her more fully. Using her breasts as leverage, Blaine pulled her back against him so that it felt like he was delving even deeper into her dark recesses. 

As he bellowed out a triumphant orgasm, Bridget felt some part of her insides spasm as the pulsing jets of frothy seed pushed past the tight ring of her entrance and into her empty chamber, fighting for space with the thick meat that was occupying it. Her soft gasps were lost under Blaine's louder noises, her nipples throbbing in his tight grasp. With her thighs tightly together she shuddered as she felt a kind of release wash over her, making her quiver as her inner muscles spasmed around his ejaculating member. 

Afterwards Blaine got her a damp clothe to clean herself off. She did so almost numbly, still reeling from the events of the evening. By the time she was done cleaning herself, the men were coming into the tent and she burrowed beneath the blankets, hiding from them. 

Blaine crawled into the bedroll with her, turning so that she faced his broad back. Curling up behind him, she tucked herself away from him as much as possible as she tried to find her way into sleep, trying to stop her tired mind from wondering what tomorrow would bring. Right now, all she wanted to do was escape into the oblivion of the night.



Being the Maid Ch. 03



"Come on little maid, time to get up." Garrett's deep voice penetrated Bridget's dreams. She felt exhausted and sore, especially between her legs, her muscles unhappy at the amount of nighttime exertion she'd been involved in. "We're going to make breakfast."

Stifling a groan, Bridget started to lever herself up before realizing that she was naked. With a small laugh as she covered her breasts, Garrett picked up the pile of clothing at the foot of her bedroll and tossed it towards her. It stayed more or less in the folded pile that she'd put it in. Then he walked out the tent just before Blaine rolled over suddenly, knocking her down as his body shifted on top of hers. The velvety steel prodding the inside of her thigh gave her no doubt as to his intentions.

"Blaine, I have to get up and help Garrett," she insisted quietly, not wanting to wake Samuel. 

"Me first," Blaine said simply, and this his hips thrust forward. Bridget bit back a cry as his hard shaft shoved into her body with no preparation. Fortunately she was a little damp between her legs, facilitating the entry of his body into hers, but it still hurt a little, especially because she was still sore from yesterday. Muting her whimpers she clung as he lunged between her legs, a few hard strokes, and then shuddered on top of her, finding his own completion easily. Without any further ado he rolled back off of her and went right back to sleep.

Slightly shaken by the early morning encounter, Bridget quickly got out of the blankets and put on her clothes, wiping off the white froth that was trickling down her thighs before hurrying out of the tent and after Garrett. He didn't say anything about her delay; he just handed her a warm damp clothe and continued about his camp chores after setting her in charge of stoking the fire under the pot of water hanging over it. The warm clothe helped soothe the tenderness between her legs as always, and this time she was even more grateful for it as her bottom was uncommonly sore.

She still couldn't believe that the men wanted to abuse THAT particular hole, but the evidence couldn't be denied. As the water began to boil Bridget added the porridge to it, stirring slowly to keep it from lumping. While part of her might like the minor revenge of making the bandits eat lumpy porridge, it was Bridget's meal too after all. And the Princess'. She worried at the fate of her noble mistress, although the Princess didn't seem to be suffering any harm that Bridget wasn't. Then again, who knew what else these men might want to do to them? After all, she hadn't anticipated the events of last night at all. And the Princess was often alone with Patrick in his tent, although in many ways Bridget considered the Princess' position to be much better than her own. After all, the Princess only had to worry about one man. 

Bridget was starting to think that she'd never be rid of the sore tenderness of her feminine folds, not when there were three men availing themselves of her body. Stoically the little maid continued to stir the porridge. She'd always considered herself to be very grounded, very practical. And part of the reason she'd been chosen for the Princess was her adaptability, but that side of her was becoming more and more strained under these strenuous circumstances. This was not a kind of adaptability that she'd thought she'd ever need to have. 

Looking around she could still see the beauty in the forest and in the morning. She could also see that if she ever wanted to escape, this would be the ideal time for it. Only Garrett to chase after her, the other men would need time to wake up and gather themselves, so she could get a good head start. If she could get onto a horse and scatter the rest then even Garrett wouldn't be able to catch her without catching a horse first. It was really the only good chance she could see.

But it would mean leaving the Princess on her own. It was her duty to stay with the Princess. Even if it hadn't been, how could Bridget justify leaving the other woman in this situation while making her own escape? It would be incredibly wrong of her. 

Scrubbing at her face with her hands, Bridget sighed.

The morning ended up being slightly different than yesterday's because the bandits wanted to stay in one place for the day so that they could hunt. Garrett was the one who told her that after she finished performing her morning ablations. While she might have liked more space away from him, at least he wasn't unnecessarily intrusive. 

The Princess was looking a little worse for the wear this morning, with puffy red eyes that indicated she'd been crying. To Bridget's surprise, however, she was practically fawning at Patrick's feet. He seemed amused by this and occasionally patted her head like she was a dog. Whenever Bridget came near, Princess Eleanor glared daggers at her. So she stayed away as much as possible. Was the Princess trying to work her way into Patrick's good graces as a way of obtaining their freedom? It seemed unlikely that the men would just let them waltz off at some point, but she supposed that it couldn't hurt to try for better treatment. And if both she and the Princess were cooperative then perhaps the men would drop their guard.

She just wished that she could speak with the Princess to find out what she was thinking.

Of course, as soon as Patrick and the Princess were off to perform their own private morning necessities, Samuel was finally coming out of the tent after having a bit of a lie-in. Like Blaine, he wanted some morning relief. Unlike Blaine, he seemed to prefer her mouth. Obediently Bridget got on her knees. Good behavior, she reminded herself. Not that Samuel cared what she did. He just got a hard grip on her hair and used her mouth the same way he'd pounded into her from behind yesterday; roughly pushing down her throat and making her want to gag.

Having her hands on his thighs didn't seem to bother him, in fact he seemed to enjoy that she tried to push him away, but it didn't do her any good either. He was far stronger than she and only too happy to overpower her. If she hadn't decided to try and cooperate she might have bitten him, although she knew that wouldn't be a good idea either. Retaliation would surely be swift and brutal. 

So she forced herself to take it, doing her best to breathe between the strokes of his hard shaft, and trying to muffled her small whimpers. Hot fluid gushed down her throat and as he pulsed against her tongue and she swallowed convulsively. It was becoming more habitual now, to drink down the salty liquid, to continue to suck as best she could until the man in front of her pulled out of her mouth. 

Samuel left her gasping for breath, on her knees, as he moved to get his breakfast. She massaged her sore throat, wondering if she'd ever get used to the sensation of having him shove so deeply into her mouth. Hoping that she wouldn't have the time to. The taste lingered on her tongue until she got her breakfast and was able to wash it away.

Later Samuel, Patrick and Blaine went hunting, leaving Garrett to guard the two women. Patrick had tied Princess Eleanor's hands together and then to a nearby tree trunk, basically tethering her in place. Bridget was left free to roam but that's also because Garrett was there to keep an eye on her. And maybe she wasn't valued as highly as the royal prisoner. Truthfully, she didn't mind that, considering that she'd rather be able to move around. 

Keeping in mind her decision to be on her best behavior and to try and lower the men's guard, she began to chatter to Garrett. Asking questions. Using his answers to start a new topic for which she could talk about. He seemed amused at her conversation. For the most part he answered what she asked, or at least gave some kind of diversionary response so that she could keep talking. The sides of his mouth quirked as she talked about trips that she'd taken before, what the land had looked like comparatively, and what she usually did during camps. 

The entire time he kept her busy with work around the campsite; doing the wash, mending some ripped clothing, and eventually peeling vegetables. Princess Eleanor just stared off into the woods, occasionally glaring if Bridget came too close. She started to wonder if perhaps the Princess had put up more of a fight than she had, which is why Bridget had the freedom to move around. Perhaps the Princess thought that Bridget was traitorous for trying to make the best of their situation, rather than fighting more. Should she be doing more to fight them? It seemed like a path that would lead to her own destruction. 

And part of her had to admit that she didn't entirely hate everything Garrett and Blaine did to her. She just hated that she didn't hate it as much as she should. 

Garrett confused her too. She felt quite sure that part of the reason he'd been left behind was because Patrick trusted him to stay away from Eleanor and to get things done around their campsite. Whereas she was also sure that Samuel wouldn't have stayed away from the Princess, and even if he had he would have indulged himself with Bridget. And she was pretty sure that if Blaine was the one left behind, he'd have decided that he was in the mood to partake of some pleasure as well and would have taken the time to do so. But Garrett just attended to his duties, quite seriously. And he wasn't unkind to either her or the Princess, although she noticed that he did keep a sharp eye on her any time she wandered near the perimeter of the small clearing they were in .So she tried to stay away from the trees, hoping that eventually he'd be lulled into a sense of security with her. 

It might take days, but it's not like she'd figured out an escape plan yet anyway. Especially since she had to factor in the Princess. 

"The others should be back soon. Do you want me to prepare you again?" Garrett seemed to appear almost out of nowhere in front of her, looking down at her as she finished peeling some of the potatoes and dropping them in the pot. 

"I have a choice?" she asked, slightly amazed. 

A smile twinged at his lips. "For this, yes. Although if you're looking for advice I think you should. Samuel's not known for being gentle and it will help."

As if she hadn't figured that out already. She gave him a look to express that sentiment and he actually laughed. It was shocking how it lightened his face, making him even more attractive. Sometimes she almost managed to ignore how good-looking he was, considering her situation those thoughts were inappropriate. Those thoughts likely came about because he seemed the kindest out of all of their captors. But she had to remind herself that just because he was the best of a bad lot, that didn't make him good. 

Bridget didn't want to feel any kind of sympathy or connection to him. She'd learned from growing up that sometimes the person who seems the nicest at the beginning can be the worst in the end. There was a girl in her village that was nice to everyone, she became friends with everyone and learned all of their secrets, and eventually she started using that against them to manipulate them into doing whatever she wanted. Right now that was kind of what Bridget was doing, cooperating and acting like they wanted her to so that they would lower her guard. Maybe Garrett had the same plan - be nice and get her to lower her guard so that... well she wasn't sure what he might be able to get that he couldn't have already, but she figured there must be something. It just made her even more suspicious that she didn't know what.

But it wouldn't do to let that suspicion be seen. 

Nodding her head she answered him quietly. "Then yes please, I would appreciate the help."

The look that he flashed her had more than a little suspicion in it, as if he knew that she didn't really mean what she was saying. Truthfully, Bridget was somewhat conflicted. She had no idea whether or not being 'prepared' actually helped her but she thought it might have. And Garrett's statement that Samuel wasn't gentle was such an understatement that she'd almost rolled her eyes at him. On the other hand, she didn't understand why Garrett would want to help her in any way. It wasn't his night with her after all. 

Although perhaps, since tomorrow would be his night with her, he was just trying to make sure that she wasn't unduly harmed by Samuel. So far he was the only one who seemed to enjoy her participation in the act. Well, other than Blaine who liked to have her do the work with her mouth, but he didn't seem to care whether or not she moved around much when she was underneath him. 

Garrett sat down on a stump and patted his lap, looking expectantly at her. Bridget didn't hesitate exactly, but she did dawdle a little. After all, she wasn't exactly looking forward to this.

"How do you know how to do this?" she blurted out. And then blushed a heated red, twisting her hands behind her back, almost as if she could protect her backside with them. "I mean, how to... um... prepare someone for... you know."

For a moment he looked amused, his eyes sparkling in a merry way that almost begged her to return his smile. Then it faded and he sighed and looked away. Thinking that he wasn't going to answer her, Bridget took another few steps towards him. 

"My mother was a whore," he said quietly, without shame. "I grew up around women who needed tricks to... prepare themselves for whatever their customers might want."

"So why do it for me?" she asked, slightly emboldened now that he'd answered one question; her curiosity overcoming any inclination to remain quiet. "Why do you seem to care more about whether or not I... um... enjoy myself than the others?"

He shrugged. "It's what I'm used to. Men aren't the only ones who look for pleasure in the bedroom. There are occasionally women who look for ah... companions."

Bridget gaped at him. "And you did that?"

"I was the member of a couple noble households for awhile," Garrett said, flashing her a broad grin. 

"So why have you turned to thievery and kidnapping instead?" she asked, genuinely intrigued. Garrett was such a contradiction in so many ways. Now his slightly better manners and sense of honor than the other bandits made sense. As did his more gentle treatment of her. He must just be so used to pleasuring women that he didn't know any other way! Or maybe it was just the way that he preferred. 

Something hard and almost angry flickered across his expression and then was gone. "No reason of interest. Over my lap now, little maid."

Grimacing, because she knew that he'd seen through her delaying tactics and also because she'd gotten more caught up in their conversation and learning about him than she'd wanted to be, Bridget obediently draped herself over his legs. Head on one side, legs on the other, she tried to ignore the way the cool air felt as her backside was exposed. Then he laid his hands on her bare flesh, kneading the creamy orbs of her buttocks and Bridget bit her lip to hide the low moan that she wanted to make as he massaged her. 

Unfortunately, his touch wasn't as unpleasant as it should be. At least now she knew why though; women had been willing to pay him for pleasure, so he must have been good at it. With his handsome looks she supposed she couldn't be entirely surprised. There were often noble ladies who cuckolded their husbands or widows who needed comforting and preferred the find lovers in the lower classes. Not that Bridget had ever met anyone like that, but she'd heard the rumors. 

She heard Garrett pull something out of his pocket and then felt his hands spreading her apart, exposing her little crinkled hole to him. Closing her eyes in shame, she gripped his ankle tightly as he rubbed an oily finger over the entrance to her back hole. A shiver went up her spine; the feeling was not entirely unpleasant. In fact, as he pressed gently on that dark entrance, it actually felt a little good. 

The pressure against her stomach informed her that Garrett was enjoying himself as the tip of his finger slipped into her tight hole. Men really did become aroused by playing with that area, which Bridget didn't understand at all but there was no denying the hard evidence pressing against her belly. She didn't have the concentration to contemplate it, however, as Garrett pressed his finger deeper, probing her insides. Automatically she clenched down against the intrusion, and she couldn't stifle the moan as he pressed deeper anyway, his slick digit easily pushing past her shuddering muscles. The friction burned a little and she felt that little tremor of tension in her stomach that preceded the build to pleasure.

Even though she knew it was wrong, she couldn't stop the quivering sensations that began as he pushed his finger back and forth, loosening the tight ring guarding her entrance. Bridget whimpered as he slid his finger all the way out and then began to press back in, this time with two fingers, spreading her further open. It didn't hurt exactly, but it tingled in a way that was almost painful, and the full feeling of having two fingers pressing into her back side only intensified the sensations. Hanging limply over his lap, she could feel a similar tingling in her sex, even though he hadn't touched those soft folds they were responding to the stimulation of her other hole in a most shaming way.

As he continued to saw his fingers in and out of her, Bridget couldn't stop herself from squirming. All of her blood seemed to be rushing to her head and her sex, making her feeling dizzy and pleasured. She arched her back, trying to push herself upwards to stop the dizzy sensation. This pushed her backside upwards just as Garrett's fingers were sinking into her and she shuddered and moaned as her body welcomed rippled around him. Pushing back against him had felt shockingly good. 

"That's it little maid," he murmured approvingly, as if she'd done it on purpose and not accidentally. As if he was pleased to think that she had. "It's feels good doesn't it?"

Blushing furiously, Bridget shook her head in denial. She didn't want it to feel good. 

But she couldn't stop the moan as she felt the two fingers that weren't inside of her rear entry dip down to the slick folds of her womanhood. Garrett chuckled as he confirmed what he already knew - she was wet with arousal. 

"Oh yes you do, you seem to like it a lot," he said. As if to prove his point, those fingers sank easily into her sex, so that both of her holes were impaled upon his digits. Bridget cried out and arched her back again, but Garrett's other arm was holding her down firmly, keeping her from squirming away from him. His fingers wriggled inside of her, coaxing new sensations that her body seemed to crave, despite what her head wanted. 

By the time he removed his fingers she was panting and she almost wanted to ask him to put them back. Her lower body was still burning, but now she was on fire with need... a need that he'd created in her all too often.

Then the slick, hard thing he'd used yesterday nosed against her rosebud and she cried out as he began to push it in. Despite the fact that it wasn't as large as Blaine's cock, which he'd put in there last night, its unyielding girth made it harder for her body to accept the thing. The slight pain mixed with the pleasure she'd been feeling and she was horrified to realize that it actually enhanced it; she found herself pushing back against the intrusion, the front of her rubbing against Garrett's hard thigh, her own thighs pressed together as the pressure and pleasure mounted.

The stretching sensation of her tight hole peaked and she cried out as her strained ring popped over the thickest part. The curvy plug nestled into her bottom, snugly encased as her muscles gripped it, almost tugging it further inward. 




Being the Maid Ch. 03



Still, the discomfort of having it fully inside of her didn't dissipate the pleasure of feeling so full or the ache between her legs that wanted to be touched more fully. She felt a wash of shame as Garrett picked her up off of his lap and turned her around so that she was seated, leaning back on the trunk he'd just been sitting on. Shame, because of the excitement that was kindled as he fumbled at the front of his breeches, because she knew that he was going to ravish her and for the first time, she truly wanted it. 

The thing in her backside was jostled as she shifted position, making her tingle all over as Garrett pushed up her skirts to reveal her nest of curls at the apex of her thighs. Her pretty pink lips were glistening with her cream and she blushed and looked away as Garrett unlaced the front of her bodice, allowing her creamy breasts to spill out. As his manhood rubbed along her feminine folds, coating itself in her arousal, he lowered his head to her breasts and began to suckle on her rosy nipples. The sensation went straight to her center and Bridget cried out. She was unable to move away or stop him, because her hands had to remain behind her, resting on the stump in order to keep her upright. Otherwise she would lose her balance. And, to be truthful, she wasn't entirely sure that she wanted to stop him; the sensations that he was creating were delicious, stoking the need that had already been swirling deep in her belly. The more he played with her body the less she cared that she shouldn't be enjoying his touch. All of her thoughts and plans were dissolving into sheer desire for the ecstasy that was not so far out of reach.

The warm blunt head of his manhood nudged against her hole, pushing inwards, and Bridget groaned. Just like yesterday, having something already filling her backside made her sex even tighter around the insistent cock that was invading her body. Garrett worked himself back and forth, pushing deeper into her with every stroke, his hands holding the back of her waist and upper buttocks while his mouth alternated between the hardened nubs of her nipples. Her legs curved around his backside, pulling him deeper into her as she writhed with the pleasure that was mounting inside of her. 

Forgetting her shame, Bridget wrapped herself in the moment, the slick sounds of his pole as it thrust into her, the pleasant fullness of her lower body and the rough friction that was feeling increasingly good. Arching her back, she thrust her breasts upwards towards Garrett, encouraging the attention that he was lavishing on them. How could this possibly feel so wonderful when it was so wrong?

She moaned again as he bit down on her nipple, the slight tinge of pain awakening her senses in the most incredible way. When his teeth rolled the little nubbin back and forth she cried out, her insides clamping down on him as she shuddered with the heady mix of stinging pleasure. Somehow, she had no idea how she managed it without falling off the stump, Bridget clasped her arms around Garrett's shoulders, using him to hold her up rather than propping herself up. Wrapped around him with all her limbs, she clung to him, crying out as he buried his face in her neck and began thrusting harder and faster.

Soft cries mingled with masculine grunts as Bridget's pleasure peaked and tipped, shattering her apart as she rubbed herself against Garrett's body, willfully seeking her explosive release. The tingling rapture spiraled out from her loins and sizzled through her body until her toes curled and her fingers dug into his shoulders. With a hoarse cry he thrust hard, the iron rod swelling inside of her and bursting forth, pulsing against her convulsing walls. Bridget almost screamed with the rushing pleasure of it. 

They held each other close, moving ever so slightly as they rocked through the last lingering shudders of mutual pleasure. It was then that Bridget realized she was clasping him tightly to her and that, for the first time, she had given herself over to pleasure with one of the men. Was it because Garrett had always been kinder than the others? Or just because he was more willing to talk to her and so she'd started to feel a little bit more like she was getting to know him? Part of her wanted to scramble away and the other part of her wanted to hold him closer and just bask for a moment in warmth and the false feeling of intimacy. To pretend, just for a moment, that the pleasure meant something. 

He let out a long sigh and she felt him kiss just underneath her neck, before he pulled away. Glancing up at him she saw him looking at her with the oddest expression on his face, as if something about her troubled or confused him. Well he wasn't the only one. Biting her lip Bridget looked away as she pushed down her skirts over her legs, covering herself. 

It seemed as if he was going to say something but then they heard the distant sound of voices approaching. Quickly she began lacing her bodice back up, seeing him adjusting his breeches out of the corner of his eye as he headed towards the sound of voices. Warm fluid trickled down her thigh as she stood, meekly going back to the fireplace to tend to the stew and try to sort out her emotions.

********

Princess Eleanor tugged at the ropes binding her wrists, not because she thought she might actually break free, but because she felt like she should at least be trying. This entire situation was absolutely unacceptable and she needed to get out of it as soon as possible. While she had found herself less adverse to being Patrick's plaything than she would have ever thought, she had absolutely no desire to spend any more time in this situation. She was quite sure that once she was married that her husband would find ways to entertain her in the bedchamber, and she could even suggest some of the games that Patrick seemed to like to play, and she was determined to make her way to her future husband with all due haste. 

Tramping through the woods with no other female companionship than a maid, only one dress which was rapidly becoming rags, and having to actually help with camp chores was not how Princess Eleanor wanted to spend even an hour of her life. She had always hated traveling and had been looking forward to never having to do so again once she was properly married and settled into her new household. Now she was trapped in the woods, and while Patrick might be able to pleasure her body quite wonderfully he wasn't much of company, and the other men were even worse. Except for Garrett. He was rather handsome in a roguish way. 

She kept trying to attract his attention, thinking that he might be the best avenue of escape. After all, he was the least plebian of the lot, other than Patrick and she knew very well that Patrick wasn't about to let her go. He couldn't get enough of her. Which was unsurprising. Eleanor had always known she was a beauty. 

Now if only she could use that beauty to charm Garrett into freeing her, or perhaps running away with her. Then she could ditch him at the first town or keep and make her way back to her proper place in the world. And she wouldn't object to allowing him to sample her charms along the way. His hands had been quite arousing when he'd prepared her bottom for Patrick yesterday. Watching him with her maid this afternoon had confirmed that he could bring a lady pleasure. Not that her maid was a lady. The little slut was obviously enjoying their circumstances. Probably wished there were more men around to feed her wanton appetite. 

Perhaps Patrick would end up taking the maid once Eleanor escaped. 

Snickering a little at the idea, she wondered how the little tart would react to Patrick's rough desires. They had shocked Eleanor at first, but she'd found that she quite enjoyed them once he'd gotten her tied down and positioned. Unlike her strumpet of a maid, however, the Princess never showed her enjoyment. She fought like a wildcat until he'd tie her up and had his way with her - and she was quite sure that he enjoyed it just as much as she secretly did. And once she was tied up, well there wasn't anything she could do but lay there and let him do what he wanted with her. Which is exactly what she wanted. 

Hearing the men coming through the trees, she shot a look over at the little whore, who was back to stirring their dinner and acting like she hadn't just been acting the wanton for Garrett. She wondered what he saw in the servant. Maybe just that she was available whereas the Princess wasn't. Not that Garrett was looking at her right now, but that was just because Patrick was coming now and even though she was quite sure that Garrett wasn't at all afraid of Patrick, he seemed content to let the other man lead. Which meant that he wouldn't be approaching her while Patrick was around.

Today she'd hoped that she might be able to charm him into speaking with her a bit, so that she could begin her campaign towards convincing him to help her either escape or run off with her - preferably run off with her as he'd be able to take care of her until she reached civilization again. Instead her loose maid had taken his attention all day with her inane chattering. Why hadn't he told the silly chit to shut up? Eleanor's hands itched to give the other woman a slap, even now. 

As the men entered the clearing, however, she pushed the slut out of her mind and twisted around, purposefully stretching herself out and creating an enticing image for Patrick with her wrists bound over her head. Almost immediately his gaze swept over to where she was, lust filling his eyes as she stared back at him, pasting a fearful expression on her face. 

The smile on his lips as he walked over to her set her heart pounding with anticipation and liquid heat pooled in her belly. 

"You're not fooling me, Princess," he said softly as he bent down to untie her wrists from the tree while keeping them bound together. "You can look scared all you want, but I know exactly what you're doing."

"You are a cad and a bastard," she said, practically spitting at him in false rage, knowing that he would take any excuse to take his belt to her bottom. 

Simultaneously his eyes hardened and flared. "And we've already talked about you keeping a respectful tongue in your head."

Flipping her over his shoulder, he practically knocked the wind out of Eleanor as he carried her off to his tent. She wriggled on top of him, yelping as his hand came crashing down onto her bottom. Soon he'd be slapping her bare skin before taking her again, giving her the pain and pleasure that she craved so much.

Just before they disappeared into the tent, she was twisted around enough to see that her maid was already on her knees, servicing Blaine with her mouth. Princess Eleanor sneered.

What a whore.



Being the Maid Ch. 04



Author's Note: This chapter picks up directly where Chapter 3 left off. 



After pleasuring Blaine with her mouth, Bridget was relieved to be allowed to sit for dinner. She could feel Samuel's eyes on her, watching and waiting and she shivered a little, knowing that he was just waiting for their evening to begin. It somewhat astonished her that he was waiting, actually, until she saw Garrett shoot a couple of warning glances his way every time it looked like he was about to get up and interrupt his dinner.

More than any of the men, Garrett confused her the most. Not just because she found her own emotions conflicting around him, what with his better treatment of her, although of course he still used her body just as the other men did which meant that he wasn't really that much better than them, and his small kindnesses. On top of all that, she was confused by the dynamics in the group. Patrick was clearly the leader, but it seemed like the only reason he was the leader was because Garrett chose to defer to him. And there were plenty of times when Garrett would speak his mind and Patrick would do what Garrett suggested. It was always phrased as a suggestion even though she got the feeling that it was really an order. 

Blaine seemed to have no qualms about following Garrett's or Patrick's orders, although he was quickest to follow Garrett's, and he never deferred to Samuel. The two of them just rubbed alongside of each other; they didn't seem to have any real liking for each other but they didn't seem to dislike each other either. Samuel always followed orders, but it seemed sometimes like he thought that he should be leading the group. Or at least, not having to listen to Garrett. But he never challenged Garrett outright either.

As she was finishing her dinner, Patrick emerged from the tent without the Princess. Immediately Bridget began to worry. After only a few days she'd gotten used to blocking things she didn't want to hear from her ears, the muffled cries and grunts, the occasional sounds of leather against flesh, and the groans and screams of pleasure. But this was the first time that Patrick had come out of the tent without the Princess, and Bridget wished that she'd paid more attention, worrying that perhaps Princess Eleanor had been injured.

When Patrick came over to the pot, Bridget obligingly scooped some into a bowl for him. For a moment she hesitated, but not for long.

"Should I take some dinner to the Princess, Sir?" she asked, trying to hide how worried she was. She didn't want him guessing that her desire to check on the Princess came from her concern that the Princess had been harmed.

"No, she's sleeping," he said almost amiably and Bridget relaxed. A slow smile, filled with seductive promise and cruelty crossed his face as he looked her over, his voice turning low and almost threatening. "I seem to have worn her out." Bridget backed away, trying to cover her fear and knowing that she wasn't completely successful. Was he implying that he wasn't worn out? She already had to contend with Samuel tonight, she wasn't sure that she could handle more than that. Patrick laughed at her retreat, the threat leaving his face. "She'll get her food later."

Then he turned and walked away, finding a place to sit not too close to the fire and not too far away to eat his meal. Immediately he fell into easy conversation with Blaine and Garrett as Samuel got up and came towards her.

Bridget's heart pounded in her chest. Dinner was over and Samuel was looking incredibly eager. She waited for his direction, but to her shock he didn't say a word, he just grabbed her and hauled her over his shoulder as she let out a shriek. As he headed towards the tent, her body bouncing uncomfortably as she didn't dare use her hands on him to brace herself, she could hear the other men laughing and joking. Shame and anger burned through her for a moment, knowing that they saw her as nothing more than a toy for their pleasure. Even Garrett, it seemed.

With a rushing movement Bridget was set on her feet so quickly that she almost lost her balance and fell over.

"You have to the count of ten to strip," Samuel said simply, his blue eyes glittering with menace. He didn't say what would happen if she didn't comply, but Bridget didn't particularly care to find out either. The man was far too eager to have him all to himself, she didn't want to make things worse on herself. Fighting wasn't going to do anything, and if she was compliant with Samuel then hopefully that would make all of them think that she truly wasn't going to cause any trouble. Ever.

Quickly she undid her bodice and pulled it off, letting it fall to the ground next to the bedroll, and then she pulled off her layers of skirts so that they pooled around her at her feet. She could feel Samuel's eyes lingering over her body, enjoying her humiliation at having to strip for him. It was increasingly obvious to her that Samuel preferred her a little frightened and very obedient. Blaine couldn't care less what she did as long as she pleasured him. And Garrett seemed to enjoy her as herself, which made him the most dangerous of all. She hadn't interacted enough with Patrick to know what might help lull him into complacency.

"Lie down and spread your legs," Samuel said as he reached for the front of his breeches. Bridget averted her eyes as she followed his directions, feeling incredibly vulnerable as she arranged herself accordingly. With every movement the plug in her bottom shifted and she wondered if he would pleasure himself there as well. This didn't seem like the best position for that though, so she could hold out some hope that he wouldn't.

Removing his shirt, Samuel didn't bother to pull off his breeches, he just pulled out the long length of his manhood and fisted it as he grinned down at her, kneeling between her splayed thighs. That quickly he was on her, his meat pushing into her body as she cried out. It was a good thing that Garrett had used her a few hours earlier, there was still just enough dampness left between her legs to facilitate Samuel's entry, although it still hurt as he shoved hard into her. Her muscles spasmed around him, shocked by the sudden intrusion, and she couldn't stop herself from trying to push him away. The fullness in her ass that the plug created only amplified her dilemma; there simply wasn't enough room for both yet.

"That's right, fight me," Samuel said, his voice excited, and Bridget moaned as she realized that he wanted her to try and dislodge him, knowing it was hopeless. But she couldn't help herself; as his hips pulled away and thrust forward again she shrieked and pushed at him, slapping at his chest.

Laughing, he grabbed her wrists and held them down on either side of her head as he began to saw back and forth inside of her, hard and fast. Her delicate inner walls burned with the rough friction, her legs tightening and trying to slow his movements but he was too big and strong. Thrashing, she squealed as her efforts to free herself only encouraged his lust.

When she looked up into his eyes she could see the smoldering hunger there; he desired her, but he also desired the fight, the conquest. He wasn't just invading her body, he was conquering it, conquering her. Now she was struggling with herself as much as she was struggling with him, not wanting to give him what he wanted. It took every ounce of her willpower to go limp beneath him, stop fighting, as he rutted inside of her. Her delicate folds felt bruised as he pumped hard, although at least her body was dampening itself to ease his thrusts inside of her.

After a few hard shoves, Samuel seemed to realize that she'd stopped struggling. To her surprise, laughter glinted in his eyes before he lowered his head and bit her on the tender spot between her neck and shoulder. Bridget yelled and kicked. Fine. If he wanted her to fight then she'd fight. He laughed as she came to life beneath him again, wriggling, and the bite on her skin stung, but at least when she was struggling he wasn't biting anymore.

To her horror, she felt a few small wisps of tension coiling in her belly; despite the roughness of his assault, part of her was responding to him in some way. Not because he was attractive, although he was, but because he wasn't spending himself quickly inside of her the way Blaine had. Samuel was drawing this out, enjoying the fight. And she'd rather fight than see what he did the next time she stopped. But fighting also meant that her hips would lift as he thrust downwards, that occasionally his groin would rub against that little nub of pleasure at the apex of her thighs, that her inner muscles would clamp down on him and send ripples of sensation through her.

Hating the rising pleasure inside of her, Bridget tried to think of a way to get him off of her faster. Lunging upwards as best she could, with her hands pinned, she latched onto his neck with her mouth, in almost the same place he'd gotten her, and bit down. Samuel roared, his body hunching over her and she could feel him expanding inside of her. The rigid length pounded at her relentlessly as his hands tightened around her wrists, ravaging her with his brutal lust. She cried out, releasing his neck as he slammed fully into her body, grinding against her. It hurt and yet part of her wanted to grind back against him.

The pulsing inside of her and the tightness of his muscles told Bridget that he was releasing, and she finally relaxed, panting from the exertion. She felt boneless and exhausted, as if she'd just tried to pull a carriage all on her own. Between her legs her sex throbbed from the assault, quivering from the need that even Samuel's rough treatment had awakened in it. His last couple of rough lunges as he spilled his seed made her moan, her hips moving against him as he finished. When his weight came down on her he was too heavy for her to move enough to find her own climax. 

Inside of her he began to shrink. She had to take small breaths because of how heavy he was on top of her, until he finally pulled off, rolling onto his back. The space between her legs felt empty and sore, unsatisfied.

Grabbing her hair in one hand, Samuel pulled her head up and then down to his groin. "Clean me," he ordered.

Realizing his intent, Bridget's stomach churned. The smell of their combined juices was heavy on his groin, his penis and hair sticky with it. Samuel's hand gave a threatening squeeze on her hair, pulling it tightly, and she immediately bent to her task, trying to ignore her nausea over the unnaturalness of this act. It tasted strange. Musky, sweet, salty... the flavors invaded her mouth and nose as she swallowed convulsively, trying to ignore the throbbing between her legs. As she continued to lick at his groin, Samuel tugged her body around so that she ended up kneeling with her knees by his shoulders and her head between her legs, giving him access to the plug in her anus.

"Suck me," he ordered as he began to play with the plug, tugging on it and making her hole burn as it widened. Popping the widest part out of her, Samuel began to push it back and forth, stretching her tight backdoor over and over. To distract herself from the uncomfortable friction, the tingling burn, Bridget began sucking hard on his cock. At least that was familiar for her, although this was the first time that Samuel wasn't forcing himself down her throat with his hands now that he was busy tormenting her rear passage.

With her lips wrapped around his flaccid member, Bridget was now able to fully appreciate the difference in size between a fully aroused male and one that isn't aroused at all. The softness of his cock wasn't threatening at all, although he began to slowly grow as she suckled him. The press of his cock as it thickened and lengthened, hardening in her mouth, distracted her from the discomfort of her poor, stretched back ring as Samuel continued to play with it. Bobbing her head up and down, she sucked him to his full length, finding it much easier to wedge him down her throat from this angle.

"That's enough," Samuel said. Reaching down he grabbed her by the hair and pulled her mouth away; she went with reluctance, knowing what was coming next. To her surprise he flipped her onto her back, hooking his arms under her legs so that her knees rested in the crook made by his elbows. The position bent her nearly in half, her sex and buttocks completely open to him.

Looking up at him in surprise, Bridget only had a moment to wonder what was happening before the blunt mushroom head of Samuel's cock shoved into her rear entry. Lubricated only by her saliva and the leftover oils from Garrett's insertion of the plug, his cock burned as he shoved it fully into her with one brutal stroke. Her stomach cramped as the thick log pushed aside her tight muscles, her gaping ring gripping the base of his rod hard as she spasmed beneath him. Small sobs escaped her throat as she tried to push at him, but Samuel just grinned down at her and began thrusting, the position of her body hampering her efforts to slow his assault. As the tears leaked down her cheeks, Bridget realized why he had wanted her on her back for this - unlike Blaine, he wanted to watch her face as he took her in this base and unnatural manner.

Her supposition was confirmed as he leaned forward and, to her horror, licked at the tears that were trickling down the sides of her face, his thrusts going deeper as he leaned his weight into her body. When her nails scored across his chest he just laughed, managing to grab her elbows so that he could hold her arms down at her sides, completely pinning her beneath him. The rough friction of his sawing erection sent trickles of flame up her spine, her abused rear convulsing in protestation of its ravaging. 

Even worse, Bridget's body was somehow starting to respond to Samuel's punishing thrusts. She had already been close to her own release when he'd ravished her, now somehow the pain was mingling with the earlier sensations and her juices began trickling down her crack from her sex. As the juices reached Samuel's cock, they smeared its length, easing its passage into her body and allowing him to move harder and faster. Bridget groaned, as the lubrication also eased the burning and the slick glide of his cock in and out of her started to feel less painful, dwindling down to a feeling of fullness and discomfort.

The head of his cock was brushing against a spot deep inside of her that caused her body to jolt, a tingling awareness beginning to spread through her core as he hit that spot over and over again. Completely lost in his own lusts, Samuel leaned further forward as he plowed into her body, increasing the depth and changing the angle of his thrusts. Bridget cried out and began to wriggle beneath him, as much as her position allowed, mortified by the buzzing spasms in her lower body and the realization that the tension in her center was coiling again.

"NO!" she cried, addressing herself rather than Samuel. "No, no, no, no, PLEASE NO!"

But his rough use of her sex and ass had done its work, and that coiling tension inside of her snapped, bursting outwards. This release was different from any that she's experienced before, shuddering tingles crawling up her spine and out her arms, the full heat in her belly engulfing her entire lower body as she cried out beneath him. Her dark tunnel shuddered and massaged Samuel's entire length and he bellowed with triumph, thrusting hard enough that it felt like she was splitting wide open. The pulsing of his cock pressed against her rippling walls, each spurt of seed forcing its way through her tight muscular ring and deep into the dark recesses of her body.

Bridget sobbed with the pleasure and shame of it. Somehow finding her release with Samuel was so much more humiliating than with Blaine or Garrett, possibly because Samuel treated her in a way that she should find abhorrent and yet she somehow still managed to enjoy it. The throbbing satisfaction in her lower body didn't allow her any other pretense.

Groaning, Samuel leaned down onto her, ignoring her squeals as her leg muscles protested this treatment. Slowly his cock began to shrink inside of her, the sensation strange, as her muscles returned to normal. The small popping sound as he pulled out of her was humiliating. When he released her arms, she could feel the bruises forming on her arms where he'd held her so tightly. 

He got up and left the tent, leaving her to flop back down, feeling almost numb. What was wrong with her? How had she managed to climax under such awful circumstances? Outside she could hear Samuel and the other men laughing and talking as he demanded a clothe to clean himself up with and a drink to satisfy his thirst now that he'd been satisfied in a more carnal way.

When the tent flap opened again she snatched at the blanket and pulled it over to cover herself, a natural reaction. In the darkness she could see that it was Garrett, but with his back to the fire she couldn't see the expression on his face. In his hand he carried a clothe, damp with warm water.

Without a word he knelt beside her and pulled the blanket back. After a moment she let go of it, allowing him to expose her again, wanting the soothing touch of the damp clothe before it cooled and became less enjoyable. Garrett's hands were gentle as he rubbed the clothe over her soft folds and the reddened hole of her bottom. Bridget whimpered a little as he rubbed the clothe over the little button of pleasure at the top of her slit, the tiny nub was still feeling rather sensitive.

"Are you all right?" he asked quietly.

"I'm fine," she said, her voice rather clipped. He didn't respond immediately, as if he was waiting for her to say more, but what else could she possibly say? While her body might ache, it was no worse than the first day when they'd caught her. Well, maybe a little worse since she had a new sore hole, but other than that she wasn't injured. Despite Samuel's rough treatment no lasting damage had been done. Mostly her pride was bruised, by her inexplicable climax.

Did Garrett just sigh? She wasn't sure. Gently he recovered the blanket and pulled it over her. Clutching at its edge she stared up at him in the darkness, trying to discern his expression, but the inside of the tent didn't have enough light for that. He soothed a hand over her hand and then he got up and left the tent, leaving her to wonder at his actions. Why had he come and check on her? Did he want to make sure that she was undamaged so as to ascertain his enjoyment of her tomorrow night? Or was there some other reason?

**********

When Princess Eleanor woke up, late in the evening, the fire had dwindled down to almost nothing and her dinner was lukewarm. Despite her indignation over this - after all, considering how much pleasure Patrick received from her, shouldn't he take better care of her? Garrett was always taking care of her maid! - she pushed her own affront to the side and concentrated on her own plans. After all, she wouldn't have to put up with this appalling treatment for much longer if her plans works out. Just this evening she'd deliberately feigned being too worn out for dinner after her bout of pleasure with Patrick. Pleasure and pain. Her buttocks still throbbed from the lash of his belt, and that pulsing ache only served to arouse her all over again as she shifted on the hard wood making up her seat. It hadn't been too hard for her to fall asleep and now she was feeling very awake, just as the men were starting to fade.

It was hard to contain her glee; this was perfect! While she felt well rested, they were obviously wilting, and tonight she'd test how deeply Patrick slept after all their exertions. She even knew what direction to head in, from their conversations today. They weren't far from some Lord's country manor house apparently, although they had neglected to mention exactly how far, she knew that's where they were traveling to. Patrick had talked rather freely about getting her some new garments to dress her up more appropriately as his lady.




Being the Maid Ch. 04



Ha. His lady indeed. No matter how he made her body feel there was no way she was staying here and living like this. Of course he was infatuated with her, she was a fine specimen of noble breeding and he was nothing more than a commoner who was enjoying her lily white flesh. She took it as her due. Although her emotions were sometimes conflicted because she did so enjoy his brutish dominance of her. However, she assumed that once in the hands of her noble husband, there would be even more pleasure to be had, because what commoner could compete with a Prince?

"Come sweetheart," Patrick said, breaking into her thoughts. His eyes glittered in the firelight. Was he going to take her again? Desire stirred in her loins. If he didn't tonight then she'd have to make sure that he did tomorrow in order to wear him out even more. "Time for bed."

She went willingly, following him into the tent. To her disappointment he didn't seem inclined to take her again. Instead he curled up around her possessively and soon fell asleep. Lying in his arms, Eleanor waited until she felt him go rather limp and then she wriggled her way out of his embrace. He didn't wake up. Grinning to herself, she moved freely about the tent, trying to be quiet but not silent. Still he slept. She walked round and round the tent, partly to tire herself out so that she would be able to sleep the rest of the night and partly for practice. After all, there was no way she could saddle a horse on her own, so she was going to have to walk. 

Tomorrow she'd question Patrick as much as she dared and try to find out how far they were from the nobleman's house. If she were lucky perhaps this would be her last night here and she could soon return to the life that she was meant to lead.



Being the Maid Ch. 05



The next morning when Garrett rousted her out of bed, Bridget was very relieved that Samuel didn't even stir, unlike Blaine on the previous morning. Her body between her legs was very sore and it was hard for her to get her muscles moving. Garrett eyed her stiff gait and put her next to the fire where the heat soothed away some of the morning's chill and she was able to sit and prepare the gruel for breakfast rather than having to move around the campsite. The more small kindnesses he did for her, the more he confused her.

At times it seemed as though he truly cared about more than her well being; their chats during the day not only served to lull him into thinking her content not to try and escape, but they also seemed to make her more complacent around him. Despite herself, she didn't fear that he would harm her. In fact, some part of her felt quite sure that he would do what he could to keep her from coming to harm. But why should he care? Other than he would no longer have a woman to pleasure him. But that certainly didn't make Blaine and Samuel treat her better. Not that Blaine was as rough with her as Samuel, but she certainly didn't get the feeling that he would care overmuch if something happened to her. 

Was it just because Garrett spent more time with her? 

Thinking about his motives was making her crazy. In the end, they didn't truly matter as long as she could get away from here. Yesterday she'd heard the men talking some about a noble's country manor house that they were planning on robbing, which meant that they had to be close to some kind of civilization. The real question was whether or not she'd be able to free herself and the Princess. Right now everyone else was sleeping and so far she hadn't seen the Princess awake early enough to try and sneak away in the morning. 

Perhaps sometime today she would be able to approach the Princess and explain her plan and the other woman would be able to wake up early enough for them to try and escape. If they were very lucky then they were a few days away from the noble's house and there would be time enough to set a pattern. 

"Here," Garrett said, his low voice breaking through her thoughts. "This will help with any soreness."

Bridget looked up at him, he was holding out a small jar of something to her. "What is it?"

"A salve with lots of herbs. I collected them yesterday. It will helps with your muscles and any... ah... tears in your skin."

Blinking with surprise, Bridget accepting the jar, settling it onto her skirts in her lap. This must be something that he'd learned from the bawdy house that he'd grown up in as well. 

"Thank you," she said politely. He stood in front of her almost awkwardly and she couldn't help some resentment from seething up, making her less mindful of watching her mouth. "If you can so much about whether or not I'm hurt, why don't you..." Her voice trailed off as Garrett scowled and she dropped her head. "Never mind."

For a long moment they remained in silence, her stirring the pot of gruel and him standing and watching her. 

"Men covet what they can't have. If one man were to try and claim you as his own, the fight would last until he or the others were dead."

Then Garrett walked away, leaving her feeling slightly chilled. So she wasn't worth fighting for, is that what he was saying? Or was he worried that he would lose such a fight? Why WOULD she be worth fighting for, for him? Why did she find it so upsetting that he insinuated that she wouldn't be?

Or had she misunderstood him? Was he saying that he did want her for his own but he didn't want to have to kill in order to have her? Or risk being killed? It wouldn't be a fair fight if it came down to it, Bridget recognized that. Blaine and Samuel would band together if Garrett had something that they couldn't. Even now the arrangement of sharing her seemed to grate on all the men a little. She wondered whether or not Patrick would have had to share the Princess if Bridget had managed to evade capture.  

She shuddered. Sating the lust of four men? Even taking turns that would be a daunting task. To her surprise they got back on the horses today, taking down the camp quickly and efficiently. Unfortunately it also meant that she wasn't able to get anywhere near the Princess, because she was kept too busy banking the fire, packing the saddle bags and by then the Princess was up on Patrick's horse. Bridget ended up on Garrett's again, her legs pressed against the backs of his thighs and her bosom squashed against his chest. After her activities last night, riding astride made her feel a little sore, but she was too entranced by their surroundings today to take much notice of bodily discomfort. 

They seemed to be riding much faster - she supposed in order to get them within striking distance of the nobleman's house, and there was more than forest to look at now. They rode through several large fields, filled with wildflowers, and she couldn't help but gasping in joy at the beauty. She blushed when Garrett looked over his shoulder and grinned at her. When they stopped in one of those fields for a midday meal, he actually went walking with her so that she could collect a bouquet. Samuel mocked him for indulging her womanly pursuits, but Garrett just shrugged. 

She tried to question Garrett more about himself, finding herself more curious about him than she probably should be, but she was becoming starved for human interaction. When he wasn't forthcoming, she ended up telling him more about herself and how she came into Princess Eleanor's service, her brothers who were in the army, and her enjoyment of the outdoors. To her surprise, he ended up asking her a few questions and she found herself talking even more; he seemed particularly interested in her experiences traveling, which she was happy to tell him about. If they hadn't been captured this would have been her first trip on a ship, which she had been looking forward to. By the expression on his face, for a moment, she thought that he might actually apologize for being part of depriving her of that experience. 

After that he moved too far away for casual conversation, looking around as if keeping watch, and she finished picking her flowers in silence. They didn't speak on the ride either. When the group stopped for the night they were in the woods again, giving them better cover than any of the meadows. To be truthful, Bridget preferred the woods anyway. It was much more difficult to attend to her feminine needs when in a meadow. To her surprise, and relief, Garrett did not 'prepare' her with the plug. After riding all day, the area between her legs was already somewhat sore and she nurtured the hope that perhaps he would leave that particular hole unfilled this evening and give her some time to recuperate.

Besides, she was still in a bit of a state of shock over her surprising climax when Samuel had been violating her there the night before. That kind of thing was not supposed to happen as far as she knew.

Unfortunately she wasn't able to get anywhere near the Princess either; Patrick took her off to the tent almost as soon as they had it set up after having a word with the other men, far enough away from Bridget that she couldn't hear what they were saying. Blaine and Samuel distracted her at first, using her mouth until she swallowed down their salty fluid, one after the other. But then she spent her dinner blocking out more muffled sounds of feminine cries and slaps of leather and flesh. It was enough to make her shudder and also thank her lucky stars that she was with Garrett tonight.

For some strange reason, though, she couldn't help but think that the sounds the Princess was making were rather... ecstatic. What was happening in that tent? Did she really want to know? 

By the time Patrick emerged, everyone else had finished eating and the man looked almost worn to the bone. Like last night, the Princess did not accompany him. Bridget offered to bring her food, but Patrick refused, like last night. How on earth was she supposed to get together with Princess Eleanor and explain her plan to escape to the noble's manor when the Princess was never accessible? 

"Bridget, are you ready?" Garrett's low voice interrupted her thoughts, sending a fission of inappropriate excitement tingling through her. She couldn't help her reaction to him or to the thought of being with him, alone, all night. Not having to focus on anyone else but him. Dinner had washed away the flavor of Blaine and Samuel from her mouth and she found herself ready to indulge in the pleasures that Garrett offered. 

"Yes, Sir," she murmured, standing. To her surprise he took her by the arm, just above her elbow and began walking with her towards the tent, half-escorting half-leading her. 

"Don't call me Sir, call me Garrett," he ordered as she preceded him. Turning to face him, his large frame outlined by the fires outsides, Bridget felt her mouth go dry with anticipation. The area between her legs tingled and she could feel her nipples hardening beneath her bodice, her body knew what it wanted even if her mind was conflicted. Feminine instinct told her that saying his name was more important than it seemed. 

"Garrett," she repeated, her voice low and husky. All alone in this tent, calling him by his name seemed incredibly intimate and she could see the small shudder that went through him as she said it. Then he stepped forward, his broad shoulders obscuring the muted glow from the fire through the tent's walls, and his head dipped down as his arms went around her, pulling her into a rough kiss. She clung him to him, enjoying the press of his body against hers as he moved her back towards his bedroll. 

It occurred to her that, in enjoying her body, he was no different from Samuel or Blaine, but she couldn't help but feel like in some indefinable way there was a difference. Perhaps even a large one. Their conversations made her feel like she knew him a little. The small kindnesses he'd shown her didn't make up for the way her body was constantly being used by the men, but at the same time they truly did make her day brighter. And there was no need for him to be kind, he could just be like Blaine and indifferent, but instead he was kind. Courteous. Gentle. And passionate. 

Bridget had kissed young men before and none of them had sent this kind of need coursing through her as Garrett did, his body bearing her down to the ground beneath him. His tongue explored her mouth, leaving her feeling wanton as she kissed him back, sucking his tongue deeper and moving against him in her needy excitement. With his large body pressed between her legs, she found herself wrapping her ankles around the backs of his thighs, her hot sex feeling like it was melting as his hands began to caress her, scooping into her bodice and holding her breasts. 

Gasps filled the air as he relinquished her lips and began kissing down her neck, unlacing the front of her top with one hand as the other continued to squeezed and knead her soft flesh. There was something far too arousing about having her breast cupped in his hand, her nipple hard and eager against his palm. Her fingers dug into his shoulders as he popped her other breast free of her garments and his mouth closed around the pink bud topping her creamy mound. Suckling at her nipple, he pushed the top from her body, leaving her bare from the waist up. 

Unlike the other two men, Garrett seemed far more interested in her pleasure than in his own. His mouth tormented her flesh, leaving her nipples slick with his saliva as he alternated back and forth between them, hard and wet in the cold air, sizzling heat filling her lower body even though all of his attention was focused on her upper. 

Then he began to kiss down her belly, his tongue flicking over her flesh and Bridget found herself writhing for him. Despite the fact that he'd aroused her in other instances, that she already knew she would find pleasure at his hands, this was already more than she'd ever imagined possible. If he stopped, she'd beg for him to continue, the burning throbbing at her core was so insistent on being satisfied. It was truly shameful, yet she no longer cared. Her hips bucked as he pushed her skirts down, removing himself long enough to tug them from her body and she whimpered, missing the warmth of him. 

Despite the darkness in the tent, she was sure that he grinned down at her as he tugged off his shirt, tossing it aside with her skirts. Then he dropped back down, but not where she expected him. Instead his large hands pushed her thighs apart and he kissed the sensitive inner flesh of her legs, so close to her center that she was horrified, despite the darkness. 

"Stop," she whispered desperately, reaching down to put her hands on his head and tug it away from that area. It was so dark he couldn't possibly see her privates, but that didn't stop her mortification. "What are you doing?!" 

Instead of answering she felt him move his head obligingly upwards, but only about an inch. Hot breath across her sensitive flesh was her only warning and then his mouth was on her in the most embarrassingly intimate way possible. It felt wonderful. Bridget gasped, her back arching as her fingers clutched at his hair, no longer trying to pull him away but because she needed something firm to hold onto as his tongue slipped between her nether lips, teasing them the same way he did her mouth when they kissed. 

Pushing her thighs wider apart, he opened her to his questing mouth, licking her and nibbling at her soft folds. She couldn't stop the rising moans as she moved her hips up and down against his lips, his tongue probing her hole in the most delicious way. Tugging at his hair, she found herself wanting more, wanting him inside of her. Instead his mouth moved upwards slightly and sucked the sensitive pearl of her womanhood into his mouth. Bridget could no longer hold back her impassioned cries as waves of pleasure washed over her, her womanhood flaring with hot bliss as her insides fluttered and expanded, a spreading pool of satisfaction emanating outwards. 

Then Garrett's mouth was on hers, even as she trembled in the aftershocks of her climax, his breeches open and the blunt tip of his erection probing her sensitive flesh. Her fingers were still entwined in his hair as he kissed her deeply, the musky taste of her honey spreading through her mouth and arousing her further, as if the smell and taste of herself was an aphrodisiac. With his hands on her hips, Garrett held her in place as he began to push into her body, keeping her from pushing her hips upwards and hurrying his journey to her core. That small act of dominance only flared her need further, her grasping cunt trying to suck him inwards and fill her in the way her body craved. 

Greedy to more touch, Bridget ran her hands down Garrett's muscled back, feeling the weight and heat of him pressing against her, pressing inside of her. She brought her hands down to the small of his back, pulling at him and urging him onwards. 

"Little minx," he said, groaning as he broke off the kiss, pulling his mouth away from her swollen lips to land fiery kisses across her collarbone. Bridget writhed beneath him. Her skin felt so much more sensitive in the wake of her release. The sensual urges that he'd awoken in her had in no way dwindled after her first climax at his mouth, in the way that eating a bite of a pastry only led her to want the whole thing before she could be satisfied. 

"Garrett," she murmured, her voice throaty with desire, his name like a caress across his skin as she arched her back upwards, impaling herself further upon him. "Garrett...."

He plunged forward, like a stallion into a gallop, sinking into her to the hilt. The unexpected thrust left Bridget gasping as she was completely filled, her eager walls pulsing against his rod as she adjusted to the sudden intrusion into her body. A shocking sense of power flared over her as she realized that his roughness had been in reaction to her moaning his name, that his passions could be controlled by her. At the same time, once his desires were unleashed, she lost all control as well. 

Moving powerfully above her, Garrett began a steady thrusting, almost designed to drive her wild as he slowly slipped out of her almost completely, rubbing just the end of him back and forth until she was nearly frantic to be feel him filling her sheathe again, and then falling forward on top of her, pressing their bodies together and grinding himself erotically against her feminine flesh as she writhed in abject enjoyment of being filled to bursting, before slowly pulling back out of her. Her accompanying whimpers and moans only seemed to entice him to further tortures as he bent forward and nibbled at her breasts, tugging on the ripe cherries of her nipples between his teeth. 

Garrett not only ravished her body, he ravaged her sensibilities, her emotions. It was almost as if he was worshiping her body, and she couldn't help but feel beautiful and desirable, even though she knew that he was also using her for his own pleasure. Their combined passion felt somehow meaningful, as if she was more than just a vessel for his cock. 

Brazenly she let her nails trail up his back, digging in slightly, rewarded as his back arched and his hips plunged forward into her. Bridget wrapped her legs more securely around him, holding him against her even as he tried to pull away and Garrett let out a small chuckle. Grasping her legs, he pulled them apart and hooked his arms underneath them, folding her in half the same way Samuel had when he'd taken her ass, but Garrett's cock stayed firmly encased in her womanhood. This new position allowed him even deeper into her body and she moaned at the incredible sensation of him probing even further into her snug sheathe. It also kept her from being able to wrap her legs around him, even a little, but she no longer needed to.

As she looped her arms around his neck, Garrett began a slow, steady thrusting in and out of her splayed sex, only taking a moment to grind himself against her every time their bodies were joined. Bridget gasped and moaned, twining her hands into his hair as his mouth came down on hers, drinking in her cries as the fire in her belly was stoked higher and higher, no longer teased and tantalized, but fueled with the rhythm of his movements. His tongue delved into her mouth, taking her the same way his cock was plunging into her core. Kissing him back furiously, Bridget moved as much as she was able beneath him, trying to meet him thrust for thrust. Her inner muscles clenched, pleasuring both of them with increased friction as he pummeled her. 

The burgeoning explosion in her core coiled and snapped, her screams of ecstasy muffled by his lips and mouth as he rode her through her pleasure, sending her higher and higher as each ripples of pleasure coursed through her spasming body. The walls of her cunt convulsed around his hard length as he moved faster, harder, the rough planes of his groin slamming against her engorged pearl and sending her flying. Bridget was completely at his mercy as the sensations overwhelmed her, unable to stop the incredible waves of rising bliss that were almost too much to bear. She was wind-tossed on the surf, cresting and falling over and over as Garrett slammed into her again and again. 

Her nails scored his back, his shoulders, his chest, and she screamed her glory as he expanded inside of her, pulsating jets of cream filling her to the brim as he held himself tightly against her. The sensation of his own release was almost too much for Bridget and she found herself almost sobbing with the aftershocks of intense pleasure as his body slowly came to rest on top of her, tension and energy seeping out of both of them. 




Being the Maid Ch. 05



Garrett's weight was almost suffocating and then he rolled off of her. Despite the fact that she'd had trouble breathing beneath him, she almost missed him immediately. Then he pulled her into his arms, cradling her, and that strange sense of being comforted and safe returned. The sore, satisfied ache between her legs made her sigh with happiness. This was so different from the aftermath with Blaine and Samuel. It made her want to do something for Garrett. 

For a few minutes she allowed herself to lay in sleepy satisfaction in his arms. He stroked her back and murmured soft words that she couldn't quite hear into the top of her head, occasionally brushing his lips over her forehead. Experimentally she rubbed her hand over his chest, finding his nipple, so much smaller than her own, and rubbing it. She could feel the reaction in his body as his stomach and chest muscles tightened, the rumble as he chuckled, and then his lips brushed over her forehead again. 

"What are you doing?" he asked, softly still but loud enough that she could hear him. 

"Exploring," she said almost matter-of-factly. 

He laughed but didn't stop her. Leaning forward she took his nipple into her mouth and enjoyed his soft gasp. Flicking her tongue over the tiny tip, she rubbed her hand down the side of his body, feeling the lean muscles tensing and relaxing under her touch. He muttered something under his breath again and she released his nipple from her mouth.

"Does that feel good?"

"Very. Probably at least as good as when I do it to you," he said, his voice almost teasing. 

"Very good indeed," she murmured, and leaned forward to kiss his chest again, not just his nipple this time. The hair on his chest got in her way someway, but she found that she liked rubbing her cheek against the rough texture. And that doing so made him laugh at her antics. His laughter was warm and cozy and she enjoyed being the reason for it. He chuckled again when she pushed him onto his back and began exploring his chest with her mouth and hands, wanting to feel more of him. 

Slowly she began to kiss down his body, the same way he had to her. Below his chest his hair was much sparser, except for a long line down the center of his lower belly, from his belly button to his groin. The bottom of his ribs, right where the last bone was before he became all hard muscle, was extremely sensitive to her mouth and tongue, and so she even tried nibbling at that area with her teeth. Garrett gasped and groaned as her explorations became more enthusiastic, seeming to enjoy her curiosity.  

Eventually she made her way down to his manhood, already half-hard from her ministrations, and she began to clean him with her mouth. The musky, sexy taste of their combined juices was much more palatable than the night before when she'd done this at Samuel's insistence. Bridget licked her way up from the soft sack below his manhood up to the soft, velvety tip of his blunt mushroom shaped cock, enjoying the way he grew against her stroking tongue and inside of her mouth. His fingers stroked back her hair, holding it at the nape of her neck, and she received the impression that he was watching her as she attended to him. Watching her movements at least, at this angle he would be able to see her silhouetted by the glowing campfire. She turned her head slightly so that he could be able to watch her head bobbing up and down on his long shaft, watch the slide of his cock between her lips. 

With a low groan, Garrett pulled tighter on her hair and moved her head away from his cock, pulling her up towards him. "Time to go for a ride, little maid."

"A ride?" she asked, confused. 

Even in the darkness, although she couldn't see his expression at all, Bridget felt sure that he was grinning. Releasing her hair he grasped her by the hips and lifted her on top of him, one leg on either side of his hips and she gasped as she realized that she was now spread and hovering over his erect cock. One hand slid up to cup her breast as the other went between their bodies, and she felt the head of his cock sliding between her feminine folds, rubbing over sensitive flesh. She moaned as he lined himself up and then put his hand on her thigh, pushing her down on top of him as he pinched her nipple with his other hand. The sensation of sinking onto him was incredible. From this angle he felt even larger than before, filling her up to the brim, and her weight pressed all her most sensitive parts flush against him. 

Putting both of his hands on her hips he began to move her up and down, showing her what to do. 

"Just like on the horse today Bridget, ride me." The hoarseness of his voice as he spoke indicated his enjoyment of this new position and Bridget obliged him. She began to move up and down, her hips rocking back and forth, the same movements that she'd made while straddling the horse. No wonder ladies didn't normally ride that way! Even before she'd known this was possible it had seemed unseemly, now it was downright obscene. Would she ever be able to ride a horse astride again without thinking of Garrett between her thighs, his cock pumping upwards into her body as she writhed and rode him? "That's it little maid."

As his hands slid up her curves to cup her breasts, squeezing them with obvious enjoyment, Bridget leaned forward a little so that she could rest her hands on his chest, giving her better leverage to lift herself up and down on top of him. His cock was splitting her open in the most wonderful way and she was finally able to control their movements, using him for her own pleasure. Rocking on top of him, Bridget moaned and sighed as she bounced up and down, not too fast but not too slow, with a steady rhythm that was sensually pleasing. Excitement trickled through her as she took her time with him, enjoying the way he gasped and groaned beneath her. 

With her nails she played with the hair on his chest, massaging his muscles underneath and stroking over the tiny nubbins of his nipples. Garrett let her play with him, responding by imitating her strokes and pinches on her breasts until they were tugging at each other's nipples, his body surging upwards as she ground down on top of him. 

"Garret...." she said, moaning as he pinched and tugged her downwards, the pearl of her womanhood trapped between their bodies and throbbing against their flesh. 

"Yes Bridget..." His body pumped upwards as she gasped, the swirling pleasure slicing through her and curling her toes as her muscles tensed and released. "Cum for me... cum for me little maid..."

"Gaaarrett..." her voice became almost a wail as his hands slid back down to her hips, pulling her hard against him as he began to pound at her from beneath, taking back control and moving her on top of him like she weighed nothing at all. Her insides throbbed and she shuddered in ecstasy as molten heat poured forth into her channel, leaning forward until her breasts were pressed against his chest, her face buried in his shoulder as she came hard for him. Ecstasy rolled through her, pressing her down against him as he rubbed and thrust. 

Suddenly he turned her and she was on her back again, her legs wrapped around him as he pounded into her, hard and fast. She shrieked as the assault on her sex sent her into throes of rapture, her nails scoring down his back as the pleasure became overwhelming and she screamed his name. Writhing beneath him, her body undulated and twisted, trying to get away from the overload of stimulation as he rocked against her, rubbing his groin over her most sensitive bit until she was sure that she couldn't take any more. 

His arms tightened around her, his knees sliding under her thighs and tilting her body up and into him. His last thrust was deep, impaling her on his spear as it expanded inside of her. Trapped in a cage of limbs, Bridget sobbed the last of her climax as he pumped her full of cream, her inner walls tight and shuddering around him. Garrett let out a long sigh as he pressed down on her, keeping his satisfied cock buried inside of Bridget's warmth as he held her tightly. Slowly they broke apart, moving an arm and then a leg, until Garrett was on his side and Bridget was curled up against him, one leg between his thighs, head resting on his bicep and her face pressed against his chest. It was a remarkably intimate arrangement and she felt inexplicably safe cradled in his arms like that.

Murmuring softly, Garrett stroked the back of her head. She wanted to hear what he was saying, but she was so tired that she slipped into sleep without understanding a single word. 

********

For once Eleanor had a reason to be grateful to that slut of a maid, not that she'd be thanking her. Her screams of passion were so loud that they woke Eleanor up out of a very sound sleep, one which she might not have woken up from in time on her own. Although she'd worked hard to wear Patrick out, she'd worn herself out as well, even more than she'd realized at first. Patrick stumbled back into the tent and Eleanor held herself still, feigning sleep. It was easy to see that he'd been drinking; on top of his exhaustion from traveling and then riding her hard, he should sleep very well tonight. It was a struggle to keep a smile from curving her lips, but she managed. 

This was the best time she was going to get to escape. Before taking her into the tent Patrick had had a quick word with his men, telling Blaine and Samuel that they'd be scouting the noble's house tomorrow. That meant it must be close. If she was going to get there before them and garner the noble's protection, then she had to leave tonight. 

The only thing she regretted was not being able to bed Garrett to win him to her side before she escaped. She was quite sure that he was the biggest threat when it came to hunting her down. But even that had worked in her favor, seeing as that randy whore that used to be her maid had probably worn him out with her base needs. 

As Patrick came to bed down, Eleanor wiped the sneer from her face. She was fairly certain that he wasn't paying any attention to her anyway, but she knew she was too smart to be caught over something so silly. He lay down in the blankets, facing away from her, and it didn't take more than a few minutes before he started snoring. But she stayed put, listening for Blaine and Samuel. The fire had been put out when Patrick had come in the tent so they must be on their way to their beds as well. Would they fall asleep as quickly?

Eleanor forced herself to stay awake and not move, waiting. Every thing was quiet for a long time before she began moving out of the blankets, already clothed. She'd put them back on after Patrick had gone out to get his dinner. Speaking of which... her stomach rumbled. Very quietly she moved out of the tent, heading to the camp fire. Originally she'd planned to leave straight away, but this was better. Now if one of the men heard her she could say that she'd woken from hunger; she'd still have a chance to escape although it would be later in the night than she wanted.

But no one came out of the tents as she quickly ate down the plate of food that had been set to the side, obviously for her. Not that anyone had brought it to her. Thank goodness she was getting out of here tonight. The men could have her whorish maid and she could return to civilization with proper servants. 

Belly fully, Eleanor turned in the direction that Patrick had indicated to Blaine earlier and set off into the night, already shedding her thoughts of the motley crew behind her and lamenting the lack of a servant to saddle a horse. But surely whatever nobleman that was soon to be her host would pamper her accordingly once she had arrived and shared her sad tale.



Being the Maid Ch. 06



Bridget was startled out of sleep at dawn by infuriated roaring. Beside her, Garrett jerked awake, his arms tightening around her almost protectively and she huddled against him for a moment as she tried to shake the sleep from her brain.

"What the hell," Samuel muttered nearby. 

The roaring coalesced into words.

"GONE! The bitch is GONE! GARRETT!"

"Bloody hell," Garrett said, releasing Bridget and standing up, pulling on his breeches as he half walked, half hopped over to the tent opening. 

Peeking out of the blankets, Bridget saw Blaine turn to give her a speculative look, as if wondering if he could get his morning jollies before his name was called. Fortunately less than half a second later Patrick was calling his and Samuel's names as well.

Curious despite herself, Bridget quickly got dressed, taking advantage of the wonderfully empty tent before creeping out front. The men were standing in a huddle in front of Patrick's tent; he was snapping out orders in a low voice, although he stopped the second he saw her, his dark eyes narrowing in a threatening way. 

"You! Maid! Did you know anything about this?" he asked, stalking towards her and pushing through Blaine and Samuel. Behind him she could see Garrett frowning at her. 

"Ab-b-b-bout what?" she asked, stuttering a little as she backed up towards the tent, shrinking into herself. 

"She doesn't know anything," Garrett said loudly and slightly irritably, stopping Patrick in his tracks as he turned back towards the men. "I've made sure they haven't been able to talk to each other during the day and they definitely haven't had the opportunity to at night."

"Fine," the leader snapped. "Then you'll have to track the Princess without any help." 

The Princess was gone? She'd escaped? For a moment a sense of relief flashed through Bridget. Followed very quickly by indignant anger. The Princess had escaped... she should be glad that one of them was out of this mess, but instead of happiness she felt betrayed. All this time her escape plans had all included the Princess. The Princess' obviously had not. She hadn't even tried to communicate with Bridget about her plans. Instead she'd left her maid the mercy of these ruffians, already knowing the treatment that she was receiving at their hands. Well, the treatment at Garrett's hands wasn't so bad, but the others! And now Patrick! Bridget quailed inside, wondering what was going to happen now.

"Not a problem," Garrett said confidently. "Come on." And he walked off into the trees without looking back to see if Blaine and Samuel were following him, although they immediately did. That quickly, Bridget was left alone with the irate Patrick. He watched the men walk off and then turned back to her. 

The look in his eyes was of anger and lust. "You truly didn't know that she planned to escape?"

Bridget couldn't hide the flash of anger from her face as she shook her head and Patrick laughed, some of his own anger obviously receding.

"Ah... you're angry at her. For not including you? You should be grateful she didn't. She didn't take a horse and we're too far from anywhere useful for her to walk. Besides, she's much too delicate. The men will catch up to her soon enough and she'll regret making the attempt." As he spoke, Patrick stepped forward and circled around her, inspecting her from every angle. Finally he circled around to her front again, standing much closer to her than he had been before. His tone had softened though, the anger almost gone. "Strip little maid."

It was as if the entire world had gone off kilter, but Bridget knew that she didn't have a choice. Keeping her eyes on the ground to keep from looking at Patrick, Bridget stripped off her clothing and let her hands fall to her sides as Patrick began to circle around her again. She could feel his hot gaze searing her skin and she almost jumped as he ran a finger down her back, but held herself rigidly still as he cupped her buttocks and squeezed the flesh. Moving around to her front he hefted her breasts in both hands, and Bridget's cheeks heated with embarrassment as her nipples hardened without even the benefit of his touch. 

"Rather nice," Patrick said, although she could tell that he was talking to himself more than he was talking to her. "No wonder the boys haven't been misbehaving much." He laughed at his own joke, as if somehow Bridget was the cause of their improved behavior. Was she? And was their behavior actually improved? Perhaps having an outlet for their pleasures did make men more docile; she had noticed that married men were much less grumpy when their wives were obliging. Not that Bridget had a choice about it in her situation. She remained silent, but that didn't seem to bother Patrick as he played with her breasts.

Perhaps her observation about men being more docile when regularly bedded truly was correct; Patrick no longer seemed angry at all over the loss of the Princess. One woman was obviously as good as another. Did all men feel that way?

"On your knees," Patrick ordered before Bridget could go too far in her thoughts. She knelt down, legs slightly cushioned from the hard ground by her skirts. The bandit leader undid his breeches and pulled out his manhood, thick and long with a mat of dark hair at its base. Gripping the back of her hair, Patrick pulled her head back so that she was looking up at him. "Do for me what you do for Garrett and Blaine. If you do it well enough, I won't offer you any... encouragement."

"Yes Sir," Bridget said in a low voice, trying to keep her fear from showing. What did he mean by encouragement? Perhaps he only meant in the same way that Samuel "encouraged" her, by taking complete control of the act and forcing himself down her throat, but she couldn't get the strange sounds that often came from his tent out of her mind. Her imagination had filled in all sorts of strange and terrifying possibilities for those noises; she truly did not want to know the reality. 

Keeping his hand in her hair, Patrick gentled his hold on her slightly as Bridget leaned forward, delicately putting her hands on his thighs to brace herself. She swirled her tongue around his tip, knowing that both Blaine and Garrett were more sensitive around the mushroom head and the small slit at the end and assuming that Patrick would be the same. He groaned his encouragement as her tongue explored the underside of his mushroom before swiping over the broad tip. Bridget put her whole concentration into pleasuring him, learning from his groans and the tightening of his fingers in her hair as she licked him thoroughly, up and down his entire length. 

"Put me in your mouth," he commanded hoarsely, and Bridget found herself looking up at him. He was watching her with those dark eyes, filled with lust as she pressed her lips to his lip and opened them, engulfing his shaft between them and sliding down its length. Thick and meaty in her mouth, she flicked her tongue upwards against him as she bobbed her head back and forth, taking him a little deeper with each stroke. Watching him watch her was too intimate and she flicked her eyes down again, wondering what it would be like to stare up at Garrett's eyes as she performed this service for him. What it would have been like to be able to see his expressions last night.

But she flicked the stray thoughts away, knowing that she needed to focus on Patrick in order to stay in his good graces. Which she certainly wanted to. Moaning, he bucked his hips forward, and Bridget concentrated on swallowing him down, taking him further into her mouth until he nudged against the back of her throat. Holding him there for a moment, she suppressed the urge to gag before pulling away to nearly the tip. Lashing her tongue over the sensitive slit, she earned herself some time before she plunged back down onto him, her mouth and throat working convulsively to pleasure him. 

Patrick succumbed to her ministrations, seeming to enjoy himself. Between Blaine and Garrett she had been getting plenty of practice in pleasing a man with her mouth, and for the first time she was actually grateful for it. At least Patrick didn't seem inclined to follow through with his threat of encouragement, he was well satisfied with the tricks she'd learned while pleasuring the others. Eager to prove that she needed no encouragement, Bridget increased her efforts as she sucked hard, her lips sliding up and down his turgid shaft from tip to base, holding herself with his entire length swallowed down her throat for as long as she could. 

The low growl he gave was the only warning she had before fluid blasted into her mouth, salty and foaming as she swallowed urgently. His cock pulsed against her tongue and she sucked hard, hoping that he would be pleased with her efforts. As she continued to suckle his slowly softening member, Patrick's hands went from gripping her hair to smoothing it back, almost stroking her. Bridget dared a glance up at him and was relieved to see that he was looking down at her with a satisfied smile on his face. 

"You are a bit of a treasure," he said musingly as he curled his hand under her jaw, indicating that he was done with her mouth. He traced his thumb over her swollen lips as she stared back up at him. Patrick seemed to have a habit of talking out loud to himself, almost as though he couldn't think without speaking aloud. "I do enjoy the Princess' fight but perhaps.... hmmm... Perhaps I will leave her punishment in the hands of others and see for myself why Garrett seems so taken with you. You may make me breakfast now."

The sudden change in topic startled Bridget, and Patrick released her face and turned away abruptly, almost as if he'd dismissed her existence. Slowly she got to her feet and began to pull her clothing back on, watching as he began to tend to the early morning chores that Garrett usually handled. There had been something in Patrick's voice when he'd said that Garrett was 'taken' with her. As if he was jealous? Or that he expected Garrett to be? Something had just happened but his words were so ambiguous that she had no idea what he'd meant about the Princess' punishment and Garrett being taken with her. Surely the two had nothing to do with the other. Unless he was suggesting that she and the Princess switch roles in pleasing the men? 

For some reason she didn't like that thought, even though pleasing one man would be easier than pleasing three. How very strange.

She wondered what Patrick had meant by "taken with."

*********

She slumped to the ground, leaning against a tree, for the first time in her life not caring about what she looked like or whether the tree might get her dirty or if there would be bugs or anything else gross around her. The sun was shining overhead and she was exhausted. It felt like she'd been trapped in these dreadful woods for forever, with no sign of another person anywhere. Damn Patrick to Hell! He must have exaggerated how close the nobleman's manor house was. After all, she was sure that she'd gone in the right direction. Had he somehow known that she might try to escape and so had tricked her? 

Feeling quite sorry for herself, given the circumstances, Princess Eleanor pouted and sighed. The day was warming up and lassitude spread through her tired limbs. Yawning she decided to close her eyes. Just to rest them for a moment. She must be close to the manor house now. Just a bit of rest and she'd be able to make it there. 

It was only when a dark shadow fell over her that she came to, realizing that she'd fallen asleep. Looking up into Garrett's handsome face, she felt disappointed that someone from the nobleman's household hadn't found her first... but perhaps something from the situation was still salvageable. Putting on her most welcoming smile, the Princess yawned and stretched attractively, batting her eyes up at the looming rogue. He lifted a questioning eyebrow at her. 

"Oh Garrett," she said, doing her best to make her voice sound artlessly breathless. "You startled me... I'm so glad you found me out here in the woods. I was becoming quite frightened." Garrett just stared down at her, the same querying expression on his face. "Please... you can't mean to return me to that... that brute. I know the nobleman's house isn't far from here. Help me escape." She smiled coyly as he lowered his eyebrow, looking like he was considering her plea. Spreading her legs and raising her knees so that her skirts slid upwards, exposing a few inches of creamy thigh, she arched her back so that her pert breasts were thrust up at him. "I can make it worth your while."

"We don't have to bargain for what we can take for free," a gruff voice behind her said. Furious, Eleanor looked over her shoulder to see Samuel standing there. While his blonde good looks might be attractive, the Princess was well aware that he was a true ruffian. She had no intention of offering her favors to him anyway. 

"Don't you touch me," she snapped, sitting up straight and pushing her skirts back down. "Patrick will have your hide."

"But not Garrett's?" Samuel asked with a laugh. 

Haughtily, Eleanor turned her head back around, ignoring him. If only he hadn't shown up right now, she was sure that she could have convinced the silent Garrett to help her! He must have seen Samuel coming, otherwise he would have accepted her offer immediately. Now she wouldn't even be able to get a taste of what Garrett had given her maid. As if that common tart was worth the pleasure she'd received from him! 

"Come on, let's get her back to the camp," Blaine said, melting out of the trees. Eleanor was rather gratified to see that Patrick had sent all of his men after her, even if he hadn't come himself. It showed that he knew her true worth. Although if Garrett had come alone then maybe she'd have been able to garner some pleasure as well as help to the nobleman's estate. 

Pouting, because neither of her plans had come to fruition, Princess Eleanor held out her hand for Garrett to help her rise. For a moment something sparked in his eyes, but then Samuel was there, dragging her up by her upper arm. 

"How dare you?!" she fumed, jerking her arm out of his grasp. 

"Come on," Garrett said, forestalling any further comment from either her or Samuel. And with that he turned and walked away, striding into the forest with every expectation that she was following him. As if she had any choice with Samuel and Blaine crowding her from behind. The Princess tilted her head back haughtily, rather miffed that Garrett had not seen fit to walk beside her. Perhaps he just did not want to show any disrespect to Patrick.

Yes, that must be it.

******* 

It was midafternoon before the men returned with the Princess. Bridget didn't know how she felt when she finally beheld the other woman. On one hand, she looked exhausted and ragged, dirty actually, and she wasn't moving with her usual hauteur. On the other hand, the Princess had attempted to escape and leave Bridget at the mercy of the bandits. While she understood that in the grand scheme of things that the Princess was much more important than a simple maid, it still grated. After all, weren't they both women? 

Bridget probably could have escaped if she hadn't been trying to factor the Princess into her plans. She might have even gotten away with it since she knew how to saddle a horse, which the Princess obviously didn't. Of course now the men would probably be much more on their guard. What on earth had the Princess been thinking? Eleanor had ruined it for both of them. 

With a small jolt of shock, Bridget realized that she was glaring. Lowering her gaze to the ground she strove to get her emotions under control as Patrick strode over to the Princess, anger in every line of his body. It had been a strange day with him, as he'd alternated between occasionally touching or examining her and ignoring her completely. Occasionally he had muttered under his breath. Now he was completely ignoring her as she worked on fixing some of his clothing that he'd given her to take care of for him. 

Out of the corner of her eye she watched as he spoke a word with Garrett and then grabbed the Princess by the back of her neck, fairly hauling her over towards a horse saddle that he'd set up over a bench that he'd spent all morning making. It wasn't until he practically tossed the Princess, stomach down, on top of it that Bridget realized what he had been planning. The Princess was now sprawled over the saddle, her arms on one side and her legs hanging off of the other; the way the saddle was placed on the bench meant that her buttocks were thrust upwards into the air. 

"Hold her in place," Patrick snarled, and Samuel sprung into place around on the side where Princess Eleanor's upper body hung down, grabbing her by the arms and pushing her downwards so that she was trapped in place on the saddle. The Princess was screaming and cursing, using words that a lady of her breeding shouldn't know, much less use. To Bridget's surprise her main complaint seemed to be that they had an audience, she kept demanding that Samuel unhand her and Patrick punish her privately in the tent. She showed no chagrin or shame at being caught, not even fear for whatever Patrick might have planned for her, only anger and an assuredness that she would get her way. 

Judging by the implacable look on Patrick's face as he tossed the Princess' skirts over her upturned rump, exposing her bottom and legs, he didn't care what the Princess thought or demanded. Samuel just laughed at her, obviously enjoying her struggles. Bridget dreaded the aftermath of this scene, knowing that Samuel would demand some relief immediately. 

Glancing at Blaine and Garrett, she saw that Blaine seemed rather amused -- whether at the Princess' antics or the fact that she was about to be punished, Bridget wasn't sure -- and Garrett's face was completely blank. Almost too blank. He looked back and her and frowned and then began walking over.

SLAP!

The Princess screamed and Bridget's head snapped back around where Patrick was standing to the side of the Princess, his leather belt in his upraised hand as he brought it back down on her tender flesh, making a second long red mark across her creamy buttocks. Bridget gasped. He was beating her! Not only that, but the moans the Princess made after she screamed again sounded... well sounded like Bridget had last night when Garrett had used his tongue between her legs. It looked almost as though her hips were lifting upwards to meet the belt as Patrick swung it for a third time.

SMACK!

This one landed across the backs of her thighs, the three stripes almost a glowing red, and then suddenly Garrett was standing in front of Bridget and blocking her view.

"Don't watch. Cover your ears," he said in a fierce low voice. Bridget stared up at him, only now realizing that she was standing on legs that trembled, her eyes wide and fearful. Never in her life had she seen anything like the scene Garrett was now trying to protect her from; the glowing lust on Patrick's face as he'd beaten the Princess, the hard bulge in his pants showing that he was enjoying strapping her and that this wasn't just for punishment but for her enjoyment. 

THWACK! Scream. Bridget's body jerked in reaction and Garrett cursed, reaching up to cover her ears himself.

Bridget stepped back away from him instinctively. He was still a man and she was still a prisoner, no matter how kindly he might treat her during the day or the fact that he preferred to pleasure her when it was his turn to take her. At the end of the day she still had no choice in the matter and he was not her friend. Not only had he hunted down the Princess and returned her to Patrick, he wasn't trying to stop Patrick from what he was doing now, he was only trying to keep Bridget from seeing it. Hearing it. Knowing what was happening. She recognized these sounds from the evenings that the Princess had spent in Patrick's tent. This was not the first time he had beaten her, although Bridget was quite sure it was the hardest. 




Being the Maid Ch. 06



WHAP! Scream. Bridget shuddered and Garrett's mouth tightened, he stepped forward faster than she could back up and caught her up in his arms, holding her still against him as he covered her ears. She shivered against him, comforted despite herself. It was hard not to feel safe and protected in Garrett's arms, even if it was a lie. 

Despite his care though, she could still hear the beating and fear was coursing through her. It took every ounce of willpower not to try and run from the terrible scene, even knowing that she could never escape and that it would only result in her taking the Princess' place. After all, if Patrick was willing to treat a member of the royal family so brutally, how would he treat a simple maid?

She knew it was over when Garrett finally let her go and turned around. Perhaps he thought that she wouldn't peek around his body, but of course she did. Even though part of her didn't want to see the damage, she couldn't stop herself from looking. Patrick was standing to the side, breathing heavily, with a large bulge in his breeches and the belt hanging down to the ground from his hand. Lust was clear on his face as he looked at the Princess' beaten backside, her entire rump and upper thighs covered with red welts. Samuel looked just as lustful as Patrick, now standing and holding the Princess down so that he could watch the beating. Only Blaine wasn't paying attention, he'd sat down and was eating. 

"Damn slut enjoys it too much," Patrick said in tones of disgust. "It can't even be considered a punishment. Let her up Samuel."

What? Bridget gaped at him and then turned her head back to look at the Princess. Really look at her. Her hips were moving up and down in an unmistakable rhythm, her moans eagerly erotic. Most telling were the slick juice coating swollen nether lips and upper thighs; somehow Bridget hadn't even noticed that detail when she'd first looked

The Princess had enjoyed the beating? It seemed impossible but the evidence couldn't be refuted. Princess Eleanor stood and turned to Patrick, giving him a noble glare worthy of a basilisk as her skirts fell back down to cover her. Any doubts Bridget might have had about the Princess' arousal were immediately wiped away when the Princess spoke.

"Shut up and fuck me."

The bandit leader laughed uproariously. "Well I have taught you all the proper words, but you are not in charge Princess."

She glared at him. "I know you want to." And gave a pointed look to his breeches.

"I want to fuck, aye, but it need not be you. Obviously you do not appreciate me as you should. Tonight the men may have you and I will take the maid and tomorrow we'll see whether or not you've learned your lesson." 

Princess Eleanor gasped at the same time Bridget did, although the Princess' gasp was outraged and Bridget was terrified.

Immediately Garrett turned around and pinned Bridget in place with his eyes, which were darkly stormy, drowning out the Princess' indignant protests. "Don't worry, he won't treat you the same way he does her. I promise."

Somehow she believed him. The expression on his face was almost as terrifying as what she'd just seen. Emotions roiled in her. Terror, uncertainty, and an overwhelming desire for Garrett to be something other than a bandit who had captured and used her. The more he took care of her safety and comfort, the harder it was to remember that he was not truly her friend. That he used her in the same way the other men did. For a moment she almost hated him for the confliction that he aroused in her.

"Do no lasting harm," Patrick ordered from behind Garrett. "Otherwise use her as you will. We'll deal with the nobleman's house tomorrow. The difference of a day won't matter."

The Princes shrieked as she was picked up over Samuel's shoulder, struggling and hurling curses at Patrick as the grinning Samuel carried her over to the tent, Blaine already following. Feeling rooted in place, Bridget watched as Garrett approached Patrick and the two men talked in low tones that she couldn't hear, and she was too afraid to try and move closer to listen. She could already hear the cries beginning in the tent where Samuel and Blaine had taken the Princess and she couldn't shut those out either. More than anything, today had driven home how abnormal her circumstances had become, how dependent on these men and at the same time how frustrating. There was no control over her life or her wellbeing other than at the whim of whatever man happened to be ordering her around at the moment.

Even Garrett did so, as if he knew what was best for her! If he really wanted what was best for her then he would have helped her escape before this. He'd made it clear on the first day of her capture that she was there to serve the men's needs, and she'd almost forgotten that until now. While he might promise to keep Patrick from beating her the same way he had just abused the Princess, Bridget remembered his words about how keeping her healthy and sane was to the benefit of the men so that they could have use of her longer.

Lowering her head she gripped her hands in her skirts and stared at the ground to keep from glaring at the two men across from her. The fragile stability that she'd found since being captured was falling apart around her. Surely the men would be doubly on their guard against escape attempts now that the Princess had already been caught trying; and Patrick had obviously seen Bridget's desire to escape as well. Now what did she have to work towards? 

Closing her eyes she tried to buoy her sinking spirits. So it might take longer. She could do this. Deal with it. Lull them. Patrick probably wouldn't care if she tried to escape... and she'd learned from the Princess' failure. Take a horse. And food. Know exactly where her destination was and how long it would take to get there. And no need to factor the other woman into her plans anymore. Bridget felt quite cold as to the Princess' fate now. Obviously the Princess felt no need to help her and perhaps it was selfish of her to adopt the same morals. 

The biggest obstacle to escape was also now obvious. Garrett. The first man that Patrick had called for when he realized that the Princess was gone. The man who had easily tracked the other woman. Looking up at the two men she was struck again by how handsome they both were. Patrick was sunshine and light with his light hair and eyes and Garrett was twilight and shadows. Tall, muscular and tanned, authoritative men who knew far more than she did about life in the woods. How could this possibly work?

But what other choice did she have?

Bridget looked down again as they both looked over at her, breathing hard with fear. Why did Garrett have to confuse her so? She had to remember that the feeling of safety she had around him was a lie. So he might have seduced her rather than forced her last night... she felt a wash of shame for her wanton behavior. But was it so wrong to want a companion, a friend, in this lonely world of hers? As long as she didn't get attached, as long as she remembered that he was really the enemy, then hopefully it wouldn't matter if she pretended otherwise on occasion just so that she didn't always feel so alone.

Right now she was perfectly willing to feel grateful that he was attempting to convince Patrick not to treat her the same way he did Princess Eleanor, although her gratitude didn't extend very far because she knew it was to Garrett and the other men's benefit if Patrick didn't damage their toy. After all, Patrick was truly only interested in Bridget for one evening, from his words he fully intended to take a much chastened Princess back into his tent tomorrow. 

"Come maid," Patrick said and she looked up at him. He wasn't watching her, just gesturing imperiously as he turned towards the tent with the men and the Princess. Garrett was looking at her though, his eye dark and his expression almost angry. Had Patrick refused to treat her well? As she moved towards Patrick she looked questioningly at Garrett, but he just watched her as she followed Patrick towards the tent. He looked almost angry.

Thoughts about Garrett were driven from her mind as they entered the tent and she saw the activities the three were engaged in. The Princess was on top of Blaine in much the same position that Bridget had been on Garrett last night when she 'rode' him, but Samuel was behind her, wedging the Princess' soft white body between the two hard, muscular ones. The Princess was wailing and cursing, although she was also moaning in enjoyment as the two men used her simultaneously, Samuel's hands gripping and digging into her abused buttocks as he thrust energetically into her back hole. Bridget swayed, feeling faint. She hadn't even known that was possible!

A hand gripped her and pulled her over, she stumbled as she practically fell against Patrick, still watching the shocking tableau in front of her. The bandit leader reached into the top of her bodice and squeezed her breast, obviously enjoying watching his two men take the Princess in such a rude manner. His fingers pinched her nipple and she bit back a moan as she shuddered. Samuel looked over and grinned at her, his eyes alight with hot fire and Bridget immediately looked away, feeling exposed. It was almost like he was telling her that he wanted her in that debased position, trapped between his and Blaine's thrusting shafts. 

Movement caught her eye and she found herself looking at Garrett, whose expression was almost fierce, like he was glaring at her. 

"Gawd she's noisy," Patrick said laughing as the Princess turned her head to hurl epithets at him even as she moaned louder with pleasure. "Garrett, give her something to shut her up."

It was shockingly hard to watch as Garrett walked around to the front of the Princess, undoing his breeches and shoving his own rod into her mouth, one hand in her hair to hold her head up. Like the strapping, she wanted to look away but she found that she couldn't. Something sick and jealous churned in her belly, but that wasn't possible was it? Why should she care where Garrett found her pleasure?

Watching him thrust his cock into the Princess' mouth, she realized that she did care. She barely even noticed as Patrick moved behind her, his erection rubbing up against her skirts as he took both of her breasts in his hands, toying with her body as he watched the Princess take man meat in all three of her available holes. 

Feeling nauseous from her traitorous emotions, Bridget looked up and away from the Princess' stuffed lips and found herself meeting Garrett's eyes. He wasn't watching the Princess pleasure him, he was watching Patrick's hands on her breasts. Although his face was blank, she somehow got the impression that he was angry. Certainly he was being far rougher with the Princess' mouth than he had ever been with hers.

Or was she only fooling herself to make herself feel better about the inexplicable possessiveness that came over her as she watched him use another woman for pleasure? 

Unable to take it anymore, Bridget turned her head up towards Patrick. "Can we go to the other tent?" she whispered to him. While she might not be able to stop him from using her body, hopefully she could at least stop watching Garrett with the Princess. If it caused her this much turmoil to see Garrett in her mouth, how much worse would it be later when he used her in other ways?

This was only because he had been the kindest to her, of course she felt a bond with him. And if she had ever needed to know exactly how fake that bond was, this was the definitive proof. But that didn't mean she wanted to watch it any longer.

"Eager are you?" Patrick asked loudly with a laugh, and Bridget blushed and looked at the ground in shame again. That wasn't what she had intended him to think but better than that him realizing the truth. That she had inappropriate feelings about Garrett. "By all means, let us seek some privacy."

She couldn't help but glance at Garrett one last time as they left, but his eyes were closed and his head thrown back. Not looking at her at all. Hardening her heart, she knew it was good for her to have seen his uncaring. She was nothing more than a body for him to use and of course he wanted that body to be in good condition. Like Samuel and Patrick he had his preferences about how he wanted a woman to behave in his bed, and just because it was a pleasurable experience being there it obviously didn't mean anything.

Now it should be easier to remember that. 

**********

Bridget was eager to go pleasure Patrick? What was her game? Was she trying to gain some leniency from him? But Garrett had already promised her that he wouldn't allow Patrick to harm her. And he wouldn't. Patrick was quite aware that Garrett would not countenance harm to the little maid. It hadn't been hard to convince the other man to tread more easily with her, after working his anger out on the Princess' soft ass. 

She had a talented mouth too, the humming moans working their way up his cock and spine with ripples of pleasure. Gripping her hair he thrust harder, opening his eyes now that he no longer had to watch Patrick fondling Bridget, because with his eyes closed all he could think about was what might be happening in the other tent. He truly did not want to think about Bridget in Patrick's tent. But even more than that, he didn't want to examine why he felt that way.

Staring down in to the haughty face beneath him, attractive as it was with his dick sheathed between her lips, he couldn't stop himself from picturing another's.

*******

The inside of Patrick's tent was smaller than the tent than the tent that the other men shared but not by much. His bedroll was in the center and his saddlebags off to the side. Bridget went and stood by his bedroll, looking down at the ground with her heart pounding. The scene in the other tent had unsettled her, not just because of the perverse sexual act that she'd watched, but because of her own emotions surrounding Garrett's involvement in it. As if she'd needed more proof that she'd forgotten he was also the enemy. 

At least with Patrick there was little chance of forgetting. The large man pulled off his shirt, revealing his muscular chest and shoulders, a thatch of blonde hair curling in the center of his chest, although his stomach was almost completely bare of hair. His body hair was a darker blonde than the corn silk gold of the hair on his head.

"Strip," he ordered as he went over to the saddlebags. Bridget divested herself of her clothing, letting it fall to the floor. When Patrick approached her again it was with a length of rope in his hands. "Hold out your hands in front of you."

Trembling, Bridget obeyed. Fear coursed through her as he twined the rope around her wrists, securing them together and leaving her even more helpless than before. There had been no real need to bind her, it was just another way for him to assert his power over her and to make her even more vulnerable. Despite his words about liking the Princess' fight, he seemed to be taking a completely different approach with Bridget... unless he'd hoped that she might try to fight her bonds? 

"Lie down," he said, smiling almost as cruelly as Samuel, as he pulled out his belt knife. Bridget obeyed immediately, her legs feeling too weak to hold her anyway. "Put your arms above your head."

It was incredibly hard to obey that command, stretching her arms up and over her head as he stood over her with that knife, exposing her stomach and breasts. She was panting, unable to slow her breathing as she struggled not to panic completely. There was no hope of wrestling the knife away from him and stabbing him with it, no matter how much she might want to. 

"Spread your legs."

Patrick knelt between them, his beautiful blue eyes practically glowing. He looked like some kind of demented angel, sent to torment rather than save her. With the knife turned at an angle, he slid the cold steel down between her breasts and over her stomach. Bridget whimpered in fear. It was just enough pressures that she could feel it tracing her soft skin, but not enough to actually cut. Instinctively she pulled in her stomach, trying to move her flesh away from its edge. The knife seemed to fill her vision as it traced a path back up and around her breasts, until he pressed the cold flat of the blade against her nipple and the little bud pebbled beneath its touch. 

Then Patrick was leaning forward and Bridget's breathe caught in her throat, the knife still pressing down on her soft breast flesh, as he licked a tear off of her cheek. "You wouldn't like pain, would you little maid? Not like your mistress. But fear... fear is almost as arousing."

He leaned into her, allowing her to feel the bulge in his breeches as it pressed against her sex as he licked another tear away from the other side of her face. Some of the panic faded, although the fear remained, as he seemed to hint that he wasn't going to actually hurt her. But of course, there was always the chance. Pulling back, Patrick watched her face as he trailed the blade sideways across her chest, circling the tip around her nipple as it slowly hardened, pricking it enough to sting without actually piecing her skin. Trying not to breathe too much, to keep her chest from rising and falling while the tip of Patrick's knife was threatening her, she couldn't stop herself from whimpering. Which he obviously enjoyed. 

"You're so much easier than the Princess," he said in a low, almost gleeful, voice. "So wonderfully docile. I think I'm enjoying this change of pace." She stared up at him, confusion warring with her fear, and he laughed as he slid the blade back down her stomach, scraping delicately against her skin. "Spread your legs further, little maid."

Closing her eyes against his penetrating gaze, she obeyed, trying to stem the rising panic as he began to traced the knife over her creamy thighs, teasing the curls on her mound with the deadly instrument. 

"Don't move an inch," he whispered, his voice hoarse with lust. Bridget opened her eyes to see that he was no longer watching her face, but staring between her legs as he began to tease her feminine folds with the blade. A scream caught in her throat as she froze, her muscles trembling with the effort of not moving, afraid that any movement would mean harm. 

The blade had warmed slightly against her body but it still felt cold to her heated folds, which were surprisingly slick, as if the terror that had filled her had somehow spurred her body into readying itself for a sexual assault. It slowly warmed as Patrick slid it up and down her slit, coating it with her juices. His gaze was raptly fascinated, watching the steel parting her pink nether lips, the arousing combination of a weapon and sweet female flesh.

When he finally removed the threat of steel from her sex, Bridget's muscles felt like they were suddenly made of water, the tension leaving her body with a rush of relief that she had not been harmed. Patrick leaned over her again, bringing the blade to her lips, his face hovering above hers as he leaned on his arm to the side of them.

"Lick it clean."

Almost relieved, Bridget immediately lifted her head and began licking her juices off of the blade. The musky sweetness with its hint of bitter rolled around her mouth, her scent filling her nostrils. How could her body have become aroused under such circumstances? Patrick pressed the length of his body against hers, warm and hard, apparently enraptured as he watched her lick her own honey from his knife.

Suddenly he pulled back and swiftly undid his breeches before falling on top of her again. She gasped as his weight hit her, his muscled body pressing her into the ground as he stretched out over her. Both of his hands pressed against bound wrists, the knife still clasped in his grip, pushing her arms up further and stretching her underneath him. The blunt head of his cock probed her folds and then he began to move his hips, pushing his thick tip into her body. Groaning, he pushed harder, spearing her beneath him and she spread her legs wider as she cried out, her back arching as he opened her core. 




Being the Maid Ch. 06



"Bloody hell you feel good," he said, surging against her and shoving deeper. His hands and upper body kept her pinned in place as he assaulted her sex like a battering ram, invading her keep. "Wrap your legs around me."

Bridget shuddered as she obeyed, hating how good it felt to have his hard steel penetrating her, thrusting deep inside of her. His body rocked against hers, rubbing over her swollen pearl and causing her to spasm around him, pleasuring them further. Despite her fear, her own arousal and body's responses were beginning to surge as he rutted with her, his buttocks clenching against her ankles as he rose and fell above her, the slick length of his shaft filling her and receding over and over again. The knife in his hand kept her anxiety high even as she began to push back against him, hips rising to meet him. 

Closing her eyes, she could almost forget the weapon, could concentrate on the pleasure her body was feeling against its will. It was almost possible to pretend that she was with a man who cared for her, who was holding her hands down above her head without rope or a threat. She moaned softly as she began to writhe beneath Patrick, molten liquid swirling in her belly as her legs tightened, pulling him into her. 

His movement changed and she opened her eyes as his hands slid down to her elbows, keeping her arms in place, as he lowered his head to her breasts and sucked a nipple into her mouth. She let out a cry of pure pleasure as he suckled on the sensitive bud, teeth nipping at it gently, his hips moving more slowly now as his attention to her breasts hindered him somewhat. Switching breasts, he mouthed her other nipple, his hips doing a slow bump and grind that seemed to draw the pleasure out of her, enhancing the need that was already burning between her legs. With small cries of enjoyment, she pushed back against him, forgetting about the knife in his hand as she tried to work herself to climax on his stiff rod. The overwhelming urge spurred her onward, swamping her other emotions. 

Patrick moved his mouth again, sucking a mouthful of creamy breast flesh between his lips. The sensation of his hard sucking on her tender skin was so intensely pleasurable it was almost painful. Bridget arched her back as she moaned and humped, her breast pressing upwards to relieve some of the pressure the suction of his mouth had created. In response, Patrick just sucked harder, and she yelped as the sharp sensation bit at her.

Then his mouth moved away and he stretched out over her again, his rhythm changing to a more thorough pounding, taking her hard and deep. Relentlessly he drove his turgid flesh into her softness, stretching her over and over again. The spot on her breast throbbed where he had left a deep red bruise. Bridget gave herself over to the gathering ecstasy, feeling almost giddy as her fear completely ebbed under the surges of erotic need and the tension inside of her came to a peak. Her turbulent emotional state only seemed to add to the intensity of her climax as it sizzled and burst, flaring and sparking from her loins through her body as she cried out.

The rubbing thrusts of Patrick's cock splitting open her convulsing tunnel drew out her pleasure, the burning ecstasy of her orgasm throbbing through her sex. He bellowed his triumph as he began to spill into her body, thrusting his way through his release, his thick rod rigidly hard as he split her shocked folds and filled her with cream. Each pumping jet of fluid eased the next hard thrust. Bridget had never felt anything like it, his continual shoves into her body even as he pulsed and released, and she writhed beneath him as his assault on her sensitive folds became almost painful with the overload of stimulation. 

Finally he collapsed on top of her, sunk fully into her flesh to the hilt as he gave one last throb. Bridget's body was wracked with small tremors as aftershocks of her climax rippled through her. With Patrick's hard body weighing her down she was short of breath, but she didn't care. She almost wished that he would crush her out of existence. Part of her felt that she might as well get what enjoyment she could from her predicament, but another part of her felt a deep sense of shame at having ultimately enjoyed a man who was so vile. Even Samuel hadn't roused this degree of conflict within her. Patrick had strapped the Princess cruelly and then threatened Bridget's most intimate parts with a knife, and yet she'd still found pleasure in his arms. 

Now that it was over she felt almost sad, as well. The vision of Garrett with the Princess Eleanor rose in her mind again and she realized that she'd allowed Patrick's tactics to distract her from her conflicted emotions about Garrett.

The overwhelming need to escape rose up in her again. These men were changing her and not for the better.

Pulling off of her with a sigh of satisfaction, Patrick got to his feet, pulling his breeches back up. Rather diffidently he untied her arms; the rope had left red marks around her wrists.

"Here," he said, tossing her his shirt. "Put this on." Then he strode out of the tent, leaving her alone. Standing up on shaking limbs, Bridget pulled the shirt over her head. Patrick was much taller than her and the shirt covered her down to mid-thigh, but it left her feeling rather unprotected. Not as if her bodice and skirts truly afforded her much protection. 

Deciding that her best course of action for now was to act cowed by the Princess' punishment - not that acting cowed was a far stretch - and continue putting the men off guard with her. While they might be more alert in general towards the women for a bit, Bridget's might be able to convince them that she was even more docile now. It couldn't hurt while she tried to find other options as well.

Rolling up the sleeves on the shirt, which hung far down over her hands, she hurried out of the tent, feeling very strange with her legs exposed by the shirt. To her surprise Garrett was seated by the fire, whittling something, although Samuel, Blaine and the Princess were nowhere to be seen, although the noises coming from the other tent indicated that the activities within it were continuing. How long had he been out here? How much of her interlude with Patrick had he heard? 

For some reason she blushed deeply as she scurried over to the fire, feeling his eyes on her bare legs as she began to slice some vegetables for dinner. Patrick stood watching both of them for a moment. She felt as though there was some silent conversation going on between the two men, although she had no idea what it could be about. Had Patrick had her dress in his shirt to show that he had not harmed her? It was even more embarrassing as his seed began to leak out of her and down her legs. Dampening a cloth, she pressed it between her legs to clean herself, keeping her eyes averted from the two men.

After several long silent minutes Patrick went into the tent with the Princess and his men. Garrett muttered something under his breath and then came over to where she was preparing their food. Bridget considered trying to stab him and run, but there was no way she could do it silently. And she wasn't entirely sure that she could bring herself to stab him either. Damn him.

To her surprise he reached out and took the knife from her and put it down before taking her hands in his and bringing her wrists up to inspect. There was still plenty of daylight for him to see the red marks, which were a little sore but didn't truly hurt.

"Anything else?" he asked, his voice harsh.

Bridget jerked, trying to pull her hands away but his grip tightened. "What do you care?" she riposted, unable to keep the bitterness out of her voice. "Worried that he'll damage the goods and you three won't be able to play?"

She looked him directly in the eye, not sure why she was pushing him or what she wanted him to say, but she hadn't been able to hold it back.

For a long moment Garrett's dark eyes stared back stormily at her, looking almost black.

"Of course," he said in an even voice, devoid of any emotion. "Now strip."

Fighting back tears at his sudden indifference to her, reminding her forcibly of Blaine's treatment of her, Bridget pulled the shirt up and off. Bowing her head, she stared at the ground with her hands fisted at her sides, so that she didn't have to look at him and he wouldn't see the anger and gleam of tears in her eyes. She had only herself to blame, of course, what else had she expected him to say?

The growling noise he made deep in his throat startled her into looking at him, but all of his attention was on her breasts. She looked down and realized that he was staring at the mark Patrick had left on her creamy skin. It was so dark red it was almost purple, standing out clear and stark on her pale skin like a brand. Garrett circled around her quickly, inspecting her, and she watched him warily from the corner of his eye. There was a violence to his movements that hadn't been there before.

Suddenly he was pulling her hard against him and her head snapped back to stare up at him in surprise and his mouth came down hard on hers. It was a brutally demanding kiss, his tongue pushing into her mouth before she could even think of closing it against him. He pulled at her, as if he could meld their bodies together, and she moaned into his mouth, shocked by the sudden rush of desire that his touch and lips caused. The taste of him in her mouth was like a powerful aphrodisiac, her bare skin tingling everywhere he touched her as his hands swept over her back and buttocks, reaching down to grip the fleshy mounds and pull her lower body into his erection, grinding it into her. She found herself pushing back against him, her hands curling into his shirt and pulling herself up and into the kiss, before she realized what she was doing.

Whimpering she pushed at him, but he just clasped her tighter, his kiss gentling as if he realized he was being too rough with her. He tasted spicy and masculine, the hard press of his body against hers made her want to moan as tendrils of need unfurled, like a flower peeling back its petals and turning into the sun. The sweeping seduction of his lips and clever tongue coaxed her, his hands rubbing soothing patterns on her bottom, and she shuddered against him as her nipples hardened of their own accord, the wetness between her legs growing.

"Garrett."

Patrick's voice broke through the moment and Bridget pushed again. This time Garrett let her go. Standing outside of the tent, watching them, was Patrick. His voice had sounded hard but the expression on his face was one almost of amusement. The two men glared at each other as Bridget snatched Patrick's shirt back up and put it on, not caring that it was a little dirty. 

"If you need some relief, the Princess is available to you this evening," Patrick said blandly as Bridget bent back to her task. 

"I'm sure I'll use her services later," drawled Garrett, sounding and looking almost as relaxed as Patrick. the two men stared at each other for another moment and then Garrett ambled over to the side camp, Patrick walking just as nonchalantly to the same place. Whatever they had to say to her, they didn't want Bridget to hear.

She was caught somewhere between mortification and anger. Fury at Garrett dominated, not just for that earth-shattering kiss, but also for talking of using the Princess' 'services' almost immediately after! Her rage at Garrett was subsumed by her anger at herself as she realized that she was acting out of some kind of strange jealousy. Again, her expectations had snuck up on her and in her head she had built Garrett up into something that he wasn't. Just because the man kissed her and occasionally acted like he cared didn't mean that he did, and even IF he did he was still part of this wretched situation! Perhaps if she had a choice she might choose a man like Garrett. But it all boiled down to the stark fact that she did not have a choice and Garrett couldn't care less what female lay in his bed. 

But what had motivated that kiss? It almost seemed as though he'd been jealous over the mark on her breast. 

That thought just made her feel slightly hopeful, which only made her angrier at herself. She bent her head to her task, knowing that dinner was going to be important. Going by her knowledge of men, which was growing daily, she felt quite sure that Patrick was going to take her again before bed. 

*******

Dinner was a more awkward event than usual. Patrick and Garrett sat on opposite sides of the fire, glowering at each other. Whatever they'd discussed it didn't seem to have gone well. The Princess had finally been allowed out of the tent, just long enough to eat some food before she stumbled back to rest, looking completely exhausted. She'd seemed rather subdued, the first time Bridget had ever seen her in such a state. Going by the comments that the men were making, mostly Samuel and Blaine although with a few interjections from Patrick, they had been keeping her quite... busy. 

Despite the fact that he had to have been satiated by his time with the Princess, Samuel kept leering at Bridget's legs, making her feel even more bare. As the evening darkened, her form was beginning to show through the light fabric of the shirt whenever the fire was behind her. Blaine, as usual, remained fairly indifferent, although he did occasionally eye her legs appreciatively. They all seemed to enjoy looking at her, even though she was nominally covered and they had all seen her bare before. It was as if just barely hiding her attributes made her all the more desirable.

Unsurprisingly it was not a feeling she relished. It only made her feel more vulnerable and afraid to have all four men's eyes following her. Especially after she'd seen the way in which three men could use a woman at one time.

"Come little maid," Patrick said as he stood up, his eyes glittering brightly in the campfire. The orange glow highlighted Garrett's face as well, making it looked eerily shadowed. She turned her head away, not wanting to look at him and see anything more that might confuse her. "I find I'm still... hungry."

Patrick walked beside her, his hand sliding down her back and cupping her buttocks as they walked away, to Samuel's loud jokes. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Garrett heading into the tent where the Princess was. Fiercely she told herself that she should have expected no less.

Once in the tent Patrick tugged his shirt off of her and tossed it aside. There was no bulge in his breeches. Considering his penchant for fear and pain, Bridget found herself trembling again. She had hoped that she was beyond her capacity to feel any anxiety, but wondering what Patrick might do to her to arouse himself had her feeling slightly panicked again. Already her experiences with him had been far beyond anything she had ever imagined might arouse a man.

"On your hands and knees," he ordered, pointing at his bedroll. Bridget knelt and leaned forward, placing her hands on the cushion of the bedroll and awaiting her fate. Patrick stepped around her, observing this position from every angle, from her swaying breasts to her upturned rump and her vulnerable sex. She lowered her head, tension in every line of her body as he dropped to his knees beside her, his hand smoothing down her back and over her bottom. "You have a very pretty ass, little maid. But it'd be prettier if it were pink."

And then he slapped her. Bridget yelped, more in surprise than true pain. Although the slap had stung, it was its unexpectedness that caused her exclamation. Patrick just laughed and then spanked her again. His hand began to pepper her bottom with stinging slaps, just enough to make her squirm. Reaching under her body with his free hand, he began to cup and play with her breasts, tugging on her hanging nipples with enough force to elicit some moans for her. As he pulled on her nipples she arched her back to follow the tug, which pushed her ass up further as his hand came down.

The combination of him pulling her nipples and slapping her buttocks to a rosy hue was more arousing than she would have warranted. Her fear receded as none of his hits were particularly hard, although her bottom was becoming sore from the repeated impacts even if they weren't brutal. She dared to glance at his face and saw an expression of enjoyment, although not the same kind of lust as when he'd been toying with her and his knife. Perhaps Garrett's protection ran further than she had thought. Not that she was going to feel grateful for it right now. She refused.

When her entire bottom was pinked and sore, her unprotected sex feeling rather swollen beneath her rosy cheeks, Patrick released her nipple and stood, walking back over to the saddle bags. When he returned he reached for her right hand and spread a liberal amount of oil from the bottle he'd brought out over her fingers. Bridget stared up at him, wondering what the oil was for.

The wicked grin on his face was not encouraging. 

"Time to oil up your arsehole little made, unless you want me to stuff my cock in there dry," he said, nodding at her oily fingers to indicate that she was going to be taking care of the preparations herself. Bridget was horrified, but the idea of him shoving his rod into her bumhole without any kind of help was much worse than using her own fingers to do the deed.

Hesitantly, her face flaming redder than her beaten bottom in humiliation, Bridget reached around her body and put one finger to her bumhole. It felt crinkly and dry beneath her touch, and incredibly lewdly wrong. Patrick's lascivious gaze on her hand and its target only made her feel worse.

"Please," she said, begging. "Can't you do it?"

"Of course I could, but I don't want to. I want to watch you do it. So it's you or nothing."

The pleased expression on his face said that he enjoyed her begging and her humiliation as much as he had enjoyed her fear earlier. Somehow Bridget thought that fear and pleas were not fare that he received from the Princess with any kind of regularity.

Taking a deep breath, Bridget looked away from him so that she wouldn't have to see his face as he watched her and she began to push her finger into her tight rear entry. She could hear the rustling movement as Patrick slid to a better position to watch her finger parting her rosy cheeks, rudely pushing into her posterior. Eased by the oil, she could still feel the tight ring of muscle squeezing her digit as she pushed past it into the hot recesses of her bum. One knuckle.... Two... and then her finger slid in all the way to the knuckles on her hand. 

"That's it," Patrick said, his voice much more lustful than it had been before. "Now pump it back and forth. I want to watch you frig your arse."

Her humiliation knew no bounds. Having any kind of audience for lewd behavior was terrible. No wonder the Princess hadn't wanted to be watched earlier. Bridget could only be thankful that her audience only had one member. Dragging her finger back out of her backside almost all the way, Bridget pushed it back in as she let out her breath. The movement burned slightly even with the oil, even with her slim fingers. Since Garrett had not penetrated her this way the night before her hole had closed up to its original proportions, before the men had started using it for their base pleasures.

Patrick watched her work her finger back and forth for a few minutes, all of her weight resting on her other arm, her head hanging down in shame at her actions. "Add another finger. Oil up that tight little hole so I can fuck it."

She shivered at the blatant desire in his voice, the knowledge that he was enjoying her debasement. But she added another finger, stretching her hole further as she twisted them back and forth, pushing in and out of her own arsehole, now slickly oiled and stretching a little more easily. 




Being the Maid Ch. 06



Patrick watched her work her finger back and forth for a few minutes, all of her weight resting on her other arm, her head hanging down in shame at her actions. "Add another finger. Oil up that tight little hole so I can fuck it."

She shivered at the blatant desire in his voice, the knowledge that he was enjoying her debasement. But she added another finger, stretching her hole further as she twisted them back and forth, pushing in and out of her own arsehole, now slickly oiled and stretching a little more easily. It felt strangely good, arousing even, and she could knew that her netherlips were becoming glossy with fluid, clearing showing Patrick her arousal. 

"One more," he commanded in a husky voice. Wincing a little, Bridget pulled her fingers out and then began to press three in, feeling overly stuffed as she forced her digits into her protesting backside. Her hole strained with the effort of accommodating all three fingers and she whimpered a little as the tight little tunnel convulsed. The inside of her body was so hot and soft, so strangely appealing. Having felt her interior for herself, she could almost understand a little better why the men wished to plunder this alternate entry. 

Twisting her fingers back and forth, a shudder of pleasure rippled through her body. She had become all too accustomed to invasion and erotic torment, primed to climax from the many activities in which the men engaged in with her, and her body reacted accordingly as she buggered herself. 

Then Patrick's hand was on her wrist, moving her hand faster and more roughly, forcing her to frig her backside harder. She cried out at the sudden force, her tight ring spasming as he manipulated her movements. After a few minutes of violating her with her own hand, Patrick pulled her fingers from her rear door and pressed the head of his cock to the prepared entrance. Her weight now balanced on both hands, the slightly musky smell of her arsehole wafted up and filled her nose as Patrick began to push his way into the oiled hole. Bridget groaned as her bumhole contracted around the thick mushroom head, which stabbed deeper into her protesting body, forcing her crinkled hole open. The wrinkles of her little hole smoothed out as it expanded to accommodate Patrick's rod, straining to accept the wide girth which was pressing its way in. 

"Aaaahhh fuck..." Patrick said, groaning as he moved his hips back and then shoved forward, impaling her body on his marauding cock. "Bloody hell you've got a nice, tight arse..."

His hands, which had been resting on her lower back, now smoothed down to her hips, fingers curling around to the front of her body, as he began to rock back and forth until she was completely stuffed with his cock. Bridget groaned with the straining pleasure, the delicate walls of her tunnel burning from the rubbing friction of his fleshy spear as it spread her open. The hard grip on her hips was used to pull her back and forth, much harder and faster than she was used to at the beginning of an arse-reaming and Bridget cried out her protests.

"Please! Slower!!! Please go slower.... it hurts...." She squirmed, trying to move away, to slow his thrusts into her shocked bumhole, but Patrick just held her even tighter and ignored her pleas. Enjoyed them, rather. Bridget's head lowered down to the ground as she blinked away tears, his hands holding her arse high in the air so that it almost looked like she was bowing before him as he plugged her rear passage. Slowly her muscles grew accustomed to their new dimensions, the sharp pains from his brutal thrusts dwindling as the assault continued and her body adjusted. 

As her core heated, her backside pressing against his thrusting groin, Bridget's moans slowly evolved from pained to pleasured. Patrick's legs shifted between hers, spreading her knees even wider. Sliding his hands from her hips up to her breasts, he pulled her upwards. Surprised, Bridget reached back with her arms and wrapped them around his neck for support as he squeezed her breasts roughly, creamy white flesh spilling out from between his fingers. She cried out as he thrust upwards savagely, her body jerking against his in this new position. 

"Rub your cunt," he whispered in her ear. Almost in a daze, Bridget released one hand from around his neck and moved it down to her pussy. She moaned as her fingers slid into her slick folds, pressing down on her swollen pearl of pleasure. Patrick pinched her nipples tightly and she undulated, her bottom bouncing off of his thighs as he began to use her breasts to leverage himself rather brutally into her straining arsehole, pillaging between her sweet cheeks.

"OH!" Bridget gasped, her head falling back as she began to rub vigorously between her splayed legs. Being so much shorter than Patrick, with his legs between hers, her knees didn't quite touch the ground and all of her weight was centered on the pole which was ravaging her body. Her cunt was slippery and wet, and her back door convulsed around the thick meat inside of it as she pleasured herself; the sensation of being so wonderfully full in her rear passage only enhancing the pleasure that she was now bringing to herself with her fingers. 

Patrick squeezed her breasts hard as his teeth nipped at her earlobe, sucking it into his mouth. The numerous sensations that Bridget was experiencing was becoming overwhelming. The position had her lewdly on display and for some reason every time she closed her eyes all she could see was Garrett's face, promising that he wouldn't allow her to be harmed. It was almost as if he was a third presence in the tent, and the fantasy of his eyes being on her as she was so lewdly displayed and used had the unfortunate effect of arousing her even further. 

Her back arched, pleasure coursing from her fingers in her soft folds up through her body and she let out a cry as the tension inside of her began to reach unbearable lengths. 

"My name," Patrick growled, pumping harder up into her. "Say my name."

Bridget shook her head and then shrieked as his fingers pinched and twisted her nipples cruelly, the shocking pain slicing through her pleasure and deflecting her from her release. 

"My name," he demanded.

"Patrick," she whispered, her body straining outwards until the pressure on her nipples lessened somewhat. She moaned as he leaned her forward more slightly, allowing him to thrust more forcefully into her abused backside. 

"Louder." Another twist of her nipples and another shriek.

"PATRICK!... oh god....!" Bridget half sobbed as she climaxed, the sharp pinch of her nipples becoming entwined in the throbbing pleasure that was now coursing through her body, wetness spilling onto her fingers. Teeth clamped down on the sensitive flesh between her neck and shoulders, sucking and biting hard and she screamed. Her body tightened and clamped down on Patrick's hard shaft, pulling at him as if she was trying to suck him into the dark recesses of her back chamber. 

In response he yelled loudly as his seed spilled into her, pulsing against her interior as he filled her hole with cream. Bridget writhed in his lap, her bottom grinding down on top of him as the waves of ecstasy rolled through her, her tight crevice milking his cock of every drop it could hold. Pain blurred with rapture and sent her cresting high, confusing her senses. She came crashing down, and it took her a moment to realize that her quivering muscles had loosened her hold on Patrick and she had fallen forward in front of him, upper body resting on the bedroll and his cock still firmly embedded in her backside. 

His hands were back on her hips and he rocked, groaning with satisfaction as he made a last few strokes of pleasure with his softening cock. When he pulled himself free of her body she whimpered, her pleasure slowly fading and leaving her now feeling the soreness and aches from Patrick's rough handling, although she also felt a woozy sense of satiation as well. 

"Very nice," Patrick said approvingly and slapped her rump. Bridget stifled a moan. 

When he took her outside to clean themselves off, Bridget thought that she saw a figure in the woods. Apparently either Samuel or Blaine had finished with the Princess for a while and was keeping watch. 

The thought that Garrett was still in the other tent shouldn't have made her feel miserable. It really shouldn't.

********

Seeing Bridget tending to herself after fucking Patrick shouldn't have aroused him, but it did. Desire, accompanied by a sense of relief that she obviously hadn't been too badly used, was his overwhelming emotion. Unfortunately. Because Patrick had made it quite clear that Garrett wasn't going to get anywhere near Bridget tonight. 

For some time now he and Patrick had been butting heads, as Garrett grew more and more weary of the other man's leadership. His impatience was probably due in large part to the knowledge that his time with these men was coming to a close, after almost three years. The other part came from Patrick's suspicions of Garrett. In the time he'd been with them, there had only been two other women that they'd captured and taken with them to use, and Garrett knew that Patrick suspected he had helped both of them escape.

Which, of course, he had.

But Patrick didn't know that for sure. Garrett was careful to treat women similarly to his companions, even though he had no taste for their brutality. At least with him there he could make sure that the women were cared for and not abused too badly. If he got some enjoyment from them, well it was because he had needed the men he traveled with and he did help them escape as soon as possible. Unharmed if not unmolested. 

Now having women in the camp was only exacerbating the issue. All along he'd been thinking that when he left he'd help the women escape with him. It would be harder than the times before since they weren't near a city, but he was a better tracker than any of the other men and he felt sure that he could keep them from being able to follow him, even with two women. Especially if he took three of the horses. 

He'd never thought that Patrick might decide to switch women for a night. It had disturbed him more than he thought. When Garrett had gone back into the tent with the Princess, to ascertain that she was unharmed, she had been asleep and he had not availed himself of her services. Although he'd let Samuel and Blaine think that he had. If Patrick hadn't insisted earlier this afternoon, he wouldn't have had anything to do with her. She held absolutely no appeal to him.

Bridget on the other hand.... 

He wasn't sure if it was her plucky spirit, her perseverance or her inner strength that he admired most. Of course it was just admiration that he felt for her, after all he'd never seen a woman quite like her. No hysterics. No begging. Just an acceptance of the situation, and yet the spirit to try and figure out an escape. He'd seen the gleam in her eyes. And the frustration when the Princess had attempted it. At the same time she had an air of innocence about her, a vulnerable quality that made him want to protect her. 

Which is how he'd ended up threatening Patrick before allowing the other man to take her off to his tent. Both times. And hadn't listening to that been exquisite torture. Not because he thought that Patrick would truly go against his demand that she not be harmed, but because he couldn't help but picture what was happening in that tent. There had been a churning nausea in his stomach as he'd listened to Patrick use Bridget, even more so this evening when he'd heard her pleas - although he'd been able to tell that Patrick wasn't doing anything that would truly harm her, the urge to burst into the tent and tear the man of off her had been surprisingly strong. 

Now it looked like his lonely watch was done. She hadn't been harmed and that was the only reason he'd stayed up, listening. To make sure that Patrick hadn't hurt her. Only that. Nothing more. Of course.

Rubbing his face in his hands, too tired to try and sort out his conflicting emotions or the unsettling sensation that his brain was trying to tell him something he didn't want to hear, Garrett headed back to his tent. From the sounds of it, the other occupants were thankfully asleep. 

Only a few more days and then his mission would be done and he could go back home. After helping the women escape.

Incongruously, he wondered if Bridget would like England. 



Being the Maid Ch. 07



A creature of habit, Bridget woke in the morning at her usual time, feeling very sore after her exertions from the day before.  Outside she could hear the movements that told her Garrett was up and moving. She didn't hear anyone else though, which must mean that he had left the Princess in the other tent.  Suddenly she felt a bit more cheerful, even though she shouldn't be feeling any such thing in these kinds of circumstances.

Sliding out of Patrick's bedroll, she quietly put on her clothes and went outside to help Garrett with the morning's preparations.  He looked at her but didn't say anything as she joined him, moving about the campsite. They had done this enough times now that it was almost like a dance, both of them knowing exactly what the other person was going to be doing next and making sure that they stayed out of each other's way.  It was going to be a beautiful morning, she could tell, and she didn't even mind that her body ached a bit. Moving around helped work out some of her muscles. 

Suddenly Garrett grabbed her arm and she jumped, yelping a bit with the surprise of it. Looking up at him with big eyes she was surprised to see him glaring at her neck.  Despite his firm grip on her arm, his fingers were gentle as the brushed over her neck, and she winced, surprised as the small touch caused a bit of pain.

"What is it?" she asked.

"You don't know?" The look he was giving her was so strange and unsettling.  Bridget bit down on her lower lip and shook her head. She wasn't afraid of him exactly, but there was something darkly intense about his eyes, as if he was holding back a great deal of anger and she didn't know why.  "He bit you."

"He what?" Shocked, she reached up and felt the spot... it was quite tender and the memory of Patrick's mouth biting down on her in just this spot as she'd climaxed came rushing back to her. Heat filled her cheeks and she looked away from Garrett, feeling suddenly exposed and ashamed. "Did he break skin?"

"No," he said, quietly, moving her hand away so that he could lean in and inspect it closer. "It's just bruised. You'll be fine."

"Thank you for the information," Bridget snapped, suddenly angry at him as she jerked her arm away. Easy for him to say she'd be fine, there was nothing about this situation that made her feel fine. Nothing at all.  It was times like this that she had to remind herself that he truly didn't care! "It would be a shame if your toy was damaged." 

Glaring up at him she found him glaring back at her, his face looking like a thundercloud. 

"Lover's quarrel?" Patrick's sardonic tones slid across them, cutting her to the quick. Lovers? Her and Garrett? Perhaps in the physical sense, but she didn't have a choice. And even if she did... well... okay, well she didn't know what she would do, but seeing as he was a lawbreaker and a rogue she would refuse him. Maybe if he wasn't a bandit but... no, stupid to think on what ifs. Bridget looked away as Garrett scoffed.  

"Hardly," he drawled, but there was something in his voice that she couldn't quite determine the meaning of. As if he was shaken by Patrick's sudden appearance as well. "I was just wondering how her night fared and how accommodating she might be this morning."

Accommodating? For him? She'd stab him with the vegetable knife, right now, given half a chance. But... her thoughts twisted. That's not what they had been talking about. He'd been inspecting the bite mark that Patrick had given her. Which was the act - his care for her wound or his indifference to her now?

"There's always the Princess if you'd like to be serviced," Patrick said with a smirk, coming over to the fire and getting his breakfast. 

"She's more than used up after last night," Garrett replied dryly.  Then he too sat down to breakfast, directly across from Patrick, almost as if they were facing off. A strange kind of tension seemed to be filling the little clearing.  Uncomfortable, Bridget quietly got her own food and sat down to eat. If Garrett did want pleasuring she knew she would be expected to provide it, but she was starving and confused by his conflicting words and actions. "I think she'll appreciate you more now though."

"Gave her quite a ride did you?" 

"You have no idea."

The word "ride" seemed to stab Bridget directly in the gut, even though it wasn't Garrett who had said it.  Because that's what she had done for him, ridden him when he'd requested. That's what she was to him, what the Princess had been to him last night.  It was obvious that she was going to have to remind herself of this quite constantly; apparently she craved a friend, which wasn't at all surprising, but she couldn't let her weakness lull her into making Garrett into something that he wasn't. That was only going to lead to disappointment and heartbreak.

Heartbreak? Where had that thought come from? 

It was actually a relief when Samuel came out of the other tent, as brash as always although looking a bit more disheveled than usual, to distract from the strange tension and Bridget's stranger thoughts.  Even better, he seemed to require no early morning relief from her. Neither did Blaine when he appeared, dragging the Princess along with him.

All in all, despite the churning emotions that assaulted her whenever she looked at or thought of Garrett, it was one of her better mornings.

*********

Something was happening.  The men were standing together, but they'd never seemed more apart. Tension radiated from the group like heat from a lamp, warning the women not to get too close.  For the first time Bridget would have been able to have a word with the Princess if she'd desired, but she no longer did.  Instead she snuck glances at the men, ignoring the other woman who was sitting at the fire and eating, moving somewhat gingerly.  Bridget refused to wonder how Garrett might have used her.  It wasn't any of her business and she didn't care, she told herself furiously. Concentrating on trying to hear what the men were saying was distracting enough.

For some reason Samuel seemed almost jolly while Garrett was looking murderous.  The expression on Patrick's handsome face could almost be called a smirk.  Blaine was looking on with his usual indifference, but the tension in his shoulders said that he wasn't completely immune to the dynamics of the group.  The more they talked, the darker the look on Garrett's face became and the louder his and Patrick's voices were raised until the words became more distinct. 

"I should go!"

"You aren't needed and you will do as I say."

Samuel clapped Garrett on the back, laughing as the other man growled and shrugged his hand off. "At least you'll be with the women." The tone in his voice was almost derogatory, as if he was saying that guarding women was all Garrett was good for.  Bridget held her breath, trying not to show that she was listening to them as Garrett made a movement towards Samuel before Blaine caught his arm and pulled him back.

"You are the one who found the nobleman and got the information for the timetable," Blaine said, speaking loudly and quickly as if to override either of the other men from speaking and taunting Garrett further. "You'll still get your share of the booty."

The very air around Garrett seemed to thrum with contained violence, none of which dissipated at Blaine's words, and Bridget had the sudden impression that Garrett didn't care about the treasure. He cared about something else, cared about it deeply.  For a moment she thought that there would be a fight, right then and then, but then Garrett looked up at the sky and took in a deep breathe. Even from twenty feet away she could see his broad chest rise and then fall, the anger leaking out of him as if Blaine's words had had an effect on him. 

"Fine," he said harshly. And then their voices dropped again as they moved closer to each other to continue their discussion. 

It was only when he walked away from them afterwards and she caught a glimpse of his face that she realized he had not at all been appeased by Blaine's words.  The violent rage was gone from his movements, but she could see it in his face and eyes.  When he turned his head to answer a question from Samuel, she saw it literally melt away from his features.  Fear quivered through her. Garrett was a much better actor than she'd ever realized. If she hadn't seen his face before he turned to talk to Samuel, she would never have known how good he was. 

And he was hiding something. But what?

Unfortunately she wasn't given much time to think before Samuel and Blaine were on their hoses and off into the woods, and Patrick was sauntering back towards the camp fire, a smirk on his face.

"Hmmm... so many varied delights to choose from," he leered, his eyes sliding over her and the Princess. "What am I in the mood for today?" Then his eyes darted to Garrett and Bridget realized that Patrick was waiting for his reaction.  Wanting to see if Garrett would show a preference.

But the other man wasn't looking at them at all, he was still staring off in the direction Samuel and Blaine had gone, one fist clenched by his side as if he was holding himself in place by sheer force of will.  Part of her relaxed, relieved that he wasn't showing any preference to the Princess after his time with her, and another part of her felt a little hurt that he wasn't paying her any attention at all.  Of course, that was just because she didn't want Patrick's attentions again. She'd choose Garrett over Patrick without any hesitation. The bandit leader frightened her, and wondering what he would do to her if Garrett wasn't providing her with some protection frightened her even more. 

It was infuriating to be beholden to him at all, but vastly preferable to the alternative. 

She watched as Patrick shrugged and walked over to the Princess, cupping his hand under her chin and forcing her to look up at him.  Rather than her usual glare, the Princess looked wary, almost cowed.  Apparently she was no longer as sure of her position as she had been before yesterday.  That and the unrelenting passions of three men must have made her very sore. 

"Did you miss me Princess?" Patrick asked, his smile cruel.  Bridget looked away, not wanting to watch the interaction between them, although she couldn't stop herself from hearing. 

"I'm too sore for your games," the Princess replied, a little bit of her old haughtiness back in her voice.  Feigning interest in a hole that was wearing into the top layer of her skirt, Bridget barely managed to keep herself from shaking her head. Apparently she hadn't learned enough, that or she truly had no idea how she sounded. 

"Then we'll both enjoy them more, won't we?"

There was a shriek and then a low moan and Bridget couldn't stop herself from looking over to see Patrick carrying the Princess off over his shoulder.  Relief flooded her, even though she wasn't truly surprised.  The allure of bedding a Princess had to be much higher than that of a maid. She had a feeling that part of her appeal was Patrick's impression that she meant something to Garrett, but he didn't seem to want to go beyond the strictures that Garrett had laid down when it came to her treatment.  And right now it was obvious that Garrett was far more interested in robbing the nobleman's house than in having anything to do with her. 

For some reason she didn't feel very relieved about that, even though she knew she should. 

"Garrett," said Patrick, his voice full of warning as he paused at the entrance to his tent.  "Do not let your little maid escape because you are distracted."  Then he disappeared inside the tent.  The Princess let out a loud cry and then it sounded like something was pushed into her mouth, stifling the noise. 

Bridget looked up to see Garrett staring at her as if he'd never seen her before; his dark eyes were blank and his expression looked somehow both haunted and angry.  For lack of better things to do, she watched him as he turned his face away from her and then began to pace back and forth, occasionally glancing towards the woods and occasionally back at her. If she didn't know better, she'd think he was planning his own escape.  After a few minutes she had to stop watching him because he was making her feel anxious with all his movements and the darting glances. 

Looking at the woods on the opposite side of the camp, she studied the trees with their green leaves and the sunlight trickling through, wondering if Patrick was truly worried that Garrett was so distracted he might let her escape. Truthfully she didn't see why Patrick needed someone here to guard the women.  Or why he'd chosen Garrett when the other man was the closest thing to a second in command. Although, perhaps he worried that Garrett's natural tendency towards leadership was having an effect on Samuel and Blaine. If Garrett was setting himself up as a rival, then perhaps Patrick wanted to keep Garrett close to himself rather than giving him more time to influence the others. 

Watching the men was fascinating enough in and of itself, but she also knew that studying these divisions between the men could only help her. After all, she had heard the soldiers at home talk often enough about the importance of unity. If the men were busy with their own arguments and disagreements, then they'd be paying even less attention to her. And it was obvious that Patrick wasn't at all worried about her attempting escape; he'd seen her fear over the Princess' punishment and had taken her submissive compliance exactly the way she'd wanted him to. 

Of all of them, only Garrett seemed to sometimes see the real her.  Maybe that's because he was good at acting too. 

"Bridget, come into the tent," Garrett snapped out harshly, making her jump as his voice rang out through the clearing. Loud enough that it interrupted Patrick's masculine moans coming from the other tent.  Without looking to see if she followed his order, Garrett strode into the empty tent, obviously expecting that she would follow.

Fury boiled up in her and she stood, striding forth and ready to give him a piece of her mind. She had done nothing to deserve that angry tone in his voice! A sudden realization hit her, almost like a blow to her stomach and all the air in her lungs wooshed out.  She was angry at Garrett. Truly angry and more than willing to snap back at him, something that she would never do with any of the other men. In fact, she'd talked to Garrett in ways that she'd never do with the other men already, snapping back at him, taking her anger out on him.  Because, deep down, on some level she trusted him. Trusted that he wouldn't hurt her, that he wouldn't punish her for her words or actions, trusted him with some of the emotions that she kept hidden from the others.

And he hadn't taken advantage of that once.

Shaken by her revelations, Bridget stumbled into the tent to find Garrett laying on his back in the center of it, shirtless.  He paid no attention to her entrance but continued staring up at the top of the tent, one arm flung out to the side, the other bent at the elbow to tuck his hand under the back of his head.  The slightly dimmed light cast shadows across his ribbed abdomen and the ridges of his chest, the dark sprinkling of hair looking soft and enticing across his chest and down his belly.  Even on his back Garrett appeared almost dangerous, too strongly muscled to be anything but threatening. She glanced down at the front of his breeches and wasn't sure whether she was relieved or disappointed that the large bulge at the front didn't indicate any arousal on his part. 

"Strip," he said, not looking at her, his tone much more mild than it had been outside. It almost sounded like a request rather than an order.  As she shimmied out of her garments he continued to stare at the top of the tent. Only when she was completely naked did he move his gaze, his eyes roaming over her with appreciation.  Under that lustful stare her nipples puckered, despite herself, and she had to lick suddenly dry lips as the bulge in his pants began to lengthen. "Come here."

Reaching with his out-flung arm, Garrett pulled her down to him, but not in the position she expected. Instead she found herself resting her head on his upper arm, her back to him as he turned and pressed against her naked back, his legs curving against her buttocks. The stiff ridge of his arousal rubbed between her soft mounds as he situated himself, curving his free arm around her body and pulling her back against him so that they were fitted together like a wooden joint. The hair on his body tickled the soft skin of her back and she squirmed a little, as much as she could, although he didn't give her much space to, trapping her by pressing his forearm against her stomach, his hand reaching up to cup one breast. 

Heat pulsed through her as he idly massaged the soft mound, her nipple rubbing sensuously against the palm of his hand.  She could feel his breath on the back of her neck as he used his face to move her hair out of his way, pressing his lips against her shoulder blade. A quiver of lust went through her and she fought to keep from showing her reaction to him. 

When she spoke she could feel his lips moving against her skin.

"Do you have a large family, Bridget?" His voice was very soft, not like he was whispering, but just that he was speaking so low that if she hadn't been pressed right up against him she wouldn't have been able to hear him.

"No, just one older brother," she said, instinctively keeping her voice as low as his, puzzled by the question.  Had he brought her into the tent and stripped her down only to ask about her family?

"Were your parents sad to see you leave with the Princess for England?"

Bridget shook her head, confused by his apparent desire to converse.  Her body felt like it was humming, every inch attuned to his touch, and yet she knew she should be glad that he wasn't taking his pleasure in her.  What on earth did she want? If he took her then she'd be angry, but now she felt a burning need for him between her legs.

"They were proud that I had been chosen. And they knew that I'd always wanted to travel."

Fingers stroked through her hair, almost idly, as he curved his arm beneath her head, making it fall back against his chest.  

"A little adventurer, are you?" He chuckled and she could feel the vibrations through his body and hers.  This kind of easy going intimacy and conversation was dangerous to her, it was all too easy to forget who and where they were again. 

"What are you doing?" she asked, her voice both plaintive and breathy, as conflicted as her emotions. The hand in her hair stilled. 

Somehow, his voice went even lower and she strained to hear him.

"One day I will be able to explain that to you. For now, you must trust me."

Trust him? She wanted to laugh, but all she could do was tremble, because she already knew that she did. Hadn't she just realized that before entering the tent?  With the other men she always felt a mixture of revulsion and arousal, with Garrett the revulsion was sadly lacking. So was her resistance. It was enough to make a woman weep. His fingers began stroking through her hair again. Sighing, she gave up the fight and felt the tension flow from her body, nuzzling her head into his arm and relaxing into his caress.  Part of her wished that he would do something with her breast other than hold it, but for now she sank into the illusion of the safety and warmth of his body. 

"I have a half-brother and a half-sister," he said, his voice raising just a tad.  Still low enough that anyone even a foot away wouldn't be able to make out his words, but she no longer needed to strain to hear him.  "Both younger. I used to have an older half-brother." His voice turned wistful, almost dreamy.  She almost asked him how he could have half-siblings that were both older and younger than him, but it was truly none of her business.  After all, he had already told her that he'd grown up in a whore-house. Why hadn't he mentioned his siblings before?




Being the Maid Ch. 07



It felt like there was something more to the story that she wasn't getting.

"Were you looking forward to living in England?"

Bridget stirred against him, trying to ignore the tingles between her legs as they shifted together. "Yes... I thought it would be an adventure. And I've always liked seeing new places and doing new things. The Princess didn't travel much but many people traveled to us at court and they always told such stories of distant lands..."  She wasn't entirely sure why she was telling him this, except that he seemed to want to talk and she couldn't work herself up to beginning something physical with him. "This seemed like my only chance to see any of them for myself."

"England's rather wet and cold compared to Southern France," Garrett said, his voice almost teasing.

"It's still something new and different," she said. "And I suppose I thought that if I truly hated it, I would be able to go back. Not like the Princess, since she'd have been constrained there by her marriage."

"Hmmm," Garrett said, making an enigmatic noise.

Suddenly his hand on her breast slid down her stomach, the hand in her hair curving over her shoulder to grip her other breast and pinch her nipple.  She cried out at the sudden sharp pain, her hips and soft bottom pushing back into his groin.  Fingers slid through the curls on her mound and into her damp folds and her cry turned into a moan as he began to twist her nipple sensuously, the tugging sensation going straight to her core where his devilish finges were eliciting the most incredibly sensations.  Just like that she'd turned into a mass of feminine need, her thighs spreading as she moved her leg back and on top of his to rest, allowing him further access to her body.

The butt of his hand ground against her clit as he slid two fingers into her, moving against her backside. The leather of his breeches rubbed over her buttocks, the hot rod of his cock pressing between her creamy cheeks as it slid up and down along the crease. Bridget found herself arching back against him, both of her hands clasping the wrist of the hand between her legs as she moved.  His fingers curved inside of her, rubbing over a particularly sensitive spot that made her jerk and gasp, her fingers tightening around his wrist and she wasn't sure if she was trying to pull his hand away or shove it deeper inside of her.

In front of her, the tent flap burst open and suddenly Patrick was there, leering at them.  Bridget closed her eyes and turned her face into Garrett's arm, trying to shut out the sight of the bandit leader.  Her body was completely on display for him in this position, only Garrett's hands covering her privates and that seemed even worse than nudity.  The hand between her leg slowed its movements, his fingers moving with deliberate strokes in and out of her aching hole.

"Do you need me for something?" Garrett asked mildly.

"You two were so quiet, I wasn't sure our little maid hadn't gotten away from you."

Behind her Garrett stiffened, but his voice didn't change at all from that lazy, indifferent drawl. "No, she's keeping me well occupied. Unless you need me for something else."

The offer was made off-hand, as if it didn't matter to him, but the tension in his body said something different.  It was then that Bridget realized how much of a bone of contention she had become between the two men. Not because of her own value - at least not for Patrick although she was becoming less and less sure about her lack of value to Garrett - but because she afforded them another battleground on which to butt heads.

There was a long moment of silence and Bridget peeked out from behind her hair, opening just one eye.  Patrick was watching her, watching Garrett's relentless hand between her legs.  She couldn't stop the soft mewling sounds she was making, the fingers caressing her insides were too good at building up her hot desires, but she'd managed to almost completely still her movements.

"Perhaps I'd like to join you."

Garrett's fingers inside of her stilled.  The air seemed to thicken with tension, a hint of violence.  And then she felt Garrett breathe deeply again, all of it washing away. "If you'd like."

Why did he keep putting off a confrontation with Patrick? Was he worried the other man would win?

Yet his acquiesance seemed to placate the other man. Patrick's lips curved in a smile. "Perhaps later... I find I hunger for other things now."

And then he was gone. Bridget's muscles quivered as she relaxed now that his threatening presence had departed.

Turning her head, she managed to look back over her shoulder far enough to meet Garrett's dark eyes. His expression was almost carefully blank and he returned her gaze steadily.

"Would you really have let him join?" she whispered.

There was a long moment of silence and Bridget turned her face away from the flash in his eyes, unable to read his expression. Even if she could read it, he was such a good actor, would it be real?

Pulling his hand from between her legs, Garrett hugged her close, his mouth so close to her ear that she could feel his lips moving. His words were barely a murmur on the air.

"I have no choice. I must be here, with them, for the next few days. After that we will have more choices."

We. He'd said we. Him and her. Bridget shivered.  Somehow she knew that Garrett had just shown his trust in her, even though she wasn't entirely sure what his words meant.  It sounded like perhaps... escape? Perhaps he meant to leave this group of bandits and take her with him? Her treacherous body and emotions liked that idea, far too well. 

Pulling her hard against him, Garrett continued to speak in her ear. "He needs to hear some noises coming from this tent. Noises of my pleasure."

She nodded her understanding. It was another act. And yet not, because she could tell that Garrett wanted her.  Some part of her hoped that he truly wasn't like the others, that he wouldn't take advantage of her presence if it wasn't for their expectations, for their audience.  Perhaps she was building up a false image of him in her head, but at the moment she couldn't see the harm. After all, it's not like she was relying on him for escape or special treatment, but she might as well enjoy it while she could.

Behind her she felt him moving, the arm that had been between her legs now fumbling behind her buttocks as he pushed his breeches down.  The hot rod of his cock pushed against her, the skin so soft it felt like steel-lined velvet as he groaned with pleasure at the skin to skin contact.  Bridget squirmed back against him as the tip of his hardness pressed between her legs, coating the helmet of his penis with her creamy offerings.  She made soft noises in the back of her throat as his blunt head rubbed up and down her sensitive folds, teasing her opening as she tried to push back against him.

As happened so often with Garrett, she found herself abandoning all sense of dignity, too hot and needy for him to care that she was acting the wanton.  Garrett nudged into her from behind and she moved her leg off of his, finding it easier to bend forward and take him into her body when she was no longer twisted to keep her legs spread.  Having her legs together like this made her sheathe even tighter and he grunted his enjoyment as he began to push inside of her, forcing her tight hole to open and accept his shaft.  The rubbing friction felt heavenly and she squirmed, clutching at his arm as he resumed playing with her breast and nipple.

"So beautiful..." he moaned into her ear.  "You feel so good... so hot and tight.... fuck Bridget..."

The growling low voice in her ear seemed to reverberate straight down her spine, his crude words only arousing her further as she tightened around his thrusting cock.  One of his hands grasped hers, pulling it away from the hand on her breast and pushing it down between her legs.  She gasped as he laid his hand over hers, directing its movements as he pushed her fingers between her legs, parting them so that she had two fingers on either side of where his shaft was splitting her open.  She moaned at the erotic feeling of his cock sliding between her fingers, coating them with her wetness, before plunging into her body.  Garrett moved her fingers back and forth, forcing her to rub her hand against her most sensitive bits, making her touch his plunging rod as it moved inside of her. 

The sensation of him slipping between her fingers and deep into her quivering channel was intensely pleasurable, made even more so by the way her sensitive flesh pushed against her hand. She could feel the slick little pearl that gave her so pleasure, plumply pressing against her hand as she rocked back and forth on Garrett's rod. 

"That's it," he growled, nipping at the sensitive flesh along her neck with his teeth.  Bridget cried out and writhed for him, her insides tightening around the invading spear and wringing even more pleasure from both of them. The storm building in her core was swirling now, her loins tightening with readiness for the eventual explosion. "Feel me fucking you..."

His hand forced her to rub herself harder, her fingers making wet squishy noises as he masturbated her, his cock moving harder and faster against her fingers and into her shuddering body. Bridget could feel every inch of him as he thrust forcefully, obviously enjoying her tightness, her clenching muscles and the soft moans she made as she allowed him to manipulate her to their mutual pleasure. 

"Garrett..." she whimpered, the tension inside of her becoming almost unbearable, her tunnel squeezing his cock as she squirmed back against him, so, so close to release.

"Yeeeeeeessssssssss," he hissed out and his teeth caught her earlobe, sucking the tender flesh into his mouth as his hand pressed down hard on hers, sending her palm into a circular motion as it pressed down on the engorged nubbin at the apex of her core.  Bridget screamed his name as the storm swept over her, lightening shattering through her most sensitive parts as heat and wet and thunder rolled over her again and again.  In the midst of her climax she was barely aware of Garrett's arms tightening around her, holding her fast against him as he moved more forcefully against her from behind, her hand still wedged between her thighs.

She wailed with the intense passion as his steel-hard cock filled her, so hard she could almost feel her insides bruising from his rampant thrusts.  It hurt in the most wonderful way, spurring her climax to further heights as the mix of pain and pleasure that she had become so accustomed to swirled wildly in her body.  The pleasure was so exquisitely intense that it was become almost painful and she tried to move her hand away from her throbbing pearl, but Garrett's strong fingers prevented her, rubbing her harder and faster, drawing out her orgasm to the point where she screamed her plea for him to stop.  Every part of her body throbbed in sympathy as he forced his way inside of her one last time, the pulsing rhythm of his spurting cock matching her body's convulsions as her cunt sucked at him. 

Throughout it all he ignored her pleas for mercy, her forced masturbation so wonderfully overwhelming that she thought she might faint, tears trickling down her cheeks as her overstimulated tissues pulsed against her fingers.  It was torture, it was bliss, and she thought she might go mad from it. 

The hard tension of Garrett's body relaxed and so did the pressure on her hand. Bridget sobbed with relief as he allowed the movements of her hand to slow and then stop, her involuntary shudders a testament to the incredible release he'd just given her. Inside of her she could feel his cock shrinking, withdrawing naturally from her body. He kissed the back of her neck, breathing heavily in the aftermath of his own climax. 

"Good girl," he said, which stirred both annoyance and secret gratification within her. But she was too tired to protest.  The extended climax at amounted to sensual torture by the end and she didn't think she could take it if he tried to do anything more to her right now. Fortunately he seemed to just want to hold her.

Slowly the world came back into focus and she could hear Patrick moving around outside the tent, talking to the Princess. She couldn't hear what he was saying, but by the sneering tone in his voice she wasn't sure that she wanted to either.  Garrett murmured soft compliments in her ear, drowning out the sound of the other man, and she snuggled back against his hard body.  Now that her passion was spent, she was starting to feel rather drowsy. 

Garrett tensed and whispered in her ear. "Stay here. Don't make any noise if you can help it."

Even as he stood, he pulled a blanket over her before striding quickly outside, lacing up the front of his breeches as he went. Bridget stared after his broad naked back, suddenly anxious. 

"Didn't think you had it in you," Patrick said, his voice close and loud.  She realized that Garrett must have heard the other man coming closer and had wanted to head him off. Why, she wondered.

"You don't know a lot of things about me," Garrett said. Even though his voice was mild there was a slight hint of threat in his voice, enough to send a small shiver down her spine.  The tension between the two men was rapidly rising, especially without the buffer of their comrades. She'd never thought she'd be sad to see Samuel and Blaine go, but she was just starting to understand how the other two men had helped keep the peace in camp, providing a distraction.

Now she was torn on the horns of a dilemma. Obviously Garrett didn't want her distracting Patrick from him, and she could only imagine what she would have to do to provide a buffer, but she didn't want them fighting either. If Patrick won then there was no more protection for her. 

"I don't need to," Patrick replied, as if he hadn't heard the threat in Garrett's voice at all. "I would be interested to see what you did to make her scream so."

"She's sleeping," Garrett said shortly. "It's my night with her and she's going to need all the rest she can get."  The implication that he would be abusing her tonight was clear, but she couldn't feel afraid.  Although the intensity of her orgasm had made her scream in a way that Patrick had obviously misinterpreted, it hadn't been awful at all. Not in the way she'd seen Patrick be. Bridget would much prefer to let Garrett do whatever he needed to in order to keep Patrick away from her. 

Patrick laughed and she thought she heard him slap Garrett on the back in a comradely manner before they began walking away, crudely comparing the charms of the women.  She blocked the conversation from her ears, deciding that it was meaningless, wanting to believe Garrett's actions rather than the words that were currently coming out of his mouth.  Not only had he kept Patrick from seeing her again, he'd ensured that she would have an afternoon of reprieve before whatever games they planned for tonight.  An afternoon to sleep, to rest, and to think.  He'd confused her incredibly in just the past few hours.  In some ways, she felt like he'd bared a true part of himself to her when they'd been talking, but she'd also seen what a consummate liar he could be when he chose to. Then he'd given her some of the most intense ecstasy she'd ever experienced and fooled Patrick into thinking that he'd hurt her at the same time, protecting her as best he could from the other man. In fact, she had a feeling that he would have kept her in the tent all day and evening, away from the other man, if Patrick hadn't pushed the issue with his game challenge. 

Tiredness was slowly swamping her again as her thoughts swirled around, her body relaxing now that the men had moved away and there was no need to worry that Patrick would come bursting into the tent. No need to worry that Garrett would either. Perhaps she should worry more about the evening ahead, but she was exhausted and this new life had taught her not to worry too far in advance. She might as well sleep while she could and save the anxiety for later.

Besides, she was starting to trust more in Garrett's protection, despite her qualms.

********

Several times during the afternoon Garrett came back into the tent, once with food for her.  He waited until Patrick was back in his tent with the Princess before allowing Bridget out to bathe and take care of her necessary business.  With the kind of consideration he was showing her, it was hard not to feel protected and like he cared. Even if he wouldn't explain anything to her, even when she asked. He just shook his head and said that now was not the time. It was more than a little frustrating, but there was nothing she could do. 

Dinner that evening was an uncomfortable affair.  Patrick and the Princess had emerged from the tent; her eyes looking swollen from crying, yet she had an almost dreamy expression on her face.  From the little she'd seen and experienced of Patrick's preferences, Bridget shuddered thinking about what the Princess might be enduring. Even if she seemed to enjoy it, Bridget knew that she wouldn't, and the lascivious looks that Patrick was sending her way were not reassuring. 

Sure enough, by the time dinner was over, Patrick offered to switch women for the night. 

To her shock, Garrett laughed.

"You've worn the Princess out and now you want the little maid because she's rested?" he said with a grin, in that joking manner that men have with each other. "I told you I was having her rest up for the night ahead."  Reaching out he grabbed Bridget and pulled her into his lap, his hand grasping her breast through the clothe covering it. She sat frozen and rigid in his lap, averting her eyes from both of them. "Perhaps if you hadn't worn the Princess out this afternoon..."

Icy shards went through her chest and she closed her eyes, trying to convince herself that this handsy, indifferent Garrett was the act. If only he didn't sound so convincing, as if what woman he was with truly didn't matter to him.

"She doesn't wear out that easy," said Patrick with a coarse laugh. "There's plenty of vigor left in her for playing. The little maid looks too rigid to be any fun right now, are you sure she's rested? Or perhaps she just needs some warming up." 

"I prefer not to share my nights, as you know," Garrett said a little coldly, just bordering on antagonistic but not quite.  Bridget was relieved to hear it, fairly certain that this was another way of protecting her.  His thumb rubbed over her nipple and Bridget shuddered as his other hand came to rest on her lap, pulling her skirts up and sliding underneath them to caress her inner thighs.  Burying her face into his neck she moaned softly, hoping that it was what he wanted her to do.  The arm around her back squeezed her encouragingly. "Besides, I can warm her up on my own."

From the way his hand was moving between her legs, she was quite sure that it looked to Patrick like Garrett's fingers were probing much more intimate things than her upper thigh. Obligingly she squirmed a let out another soft gasp, trying not to be too obvious, but hoping that her actions would prove Garrett's declaration that he didn't need any help with her. Truly, the light, soft strokes of his fingers so close to her womanhood, but not actually touching, truly were doing a marvelous job of warming her up.  If Patrick hadn't been standing there watching she might have been tempted to squirm closer, so that his fingers could actually touch her heat.

"What's so special about her?" Patrick asked. The curiosity in his voice seemed sincere. 

"Nothing," said Garrett. "But the Princess suits your needs much better than this one does, and I've had more time to teach her the things that I like. Why trade when we both find more satisfaction in the current situation?"




Being the Maid Ch. 07



"Fine then," Patrick said in a voice full of irritation.  She wondered if he was more irritated that Garrett wouldn't trade or that Garrett had managed to neatly side step any true confrontation.  Even though she couldn't see his face, with her own buried in Garrett's shoulder, she could tell that he was sneering. "Enjoy your evening."

"I plan to."

With that, Patrick stalked away, snapping his fingers at the Princess as he passed her and gesturing towards the tent. Bridget peeked at the other woman, seeing the expression of trepidation and excitement on her face. How could she enjoy Patrick's attentions so much? Not that Bridget hadn't found release during her own night with him, but she didn't understand the other woman's eagerness or the ecstasy that she'd seen on the Princess' face when Patrick had strapped her. As soon as she heard them enter their tent, she relaxed against Garrett's hard body, finally noticing that the stroking of her thigh and breast had stopped.

When she looked  up at him, he had almost a bemused expression on his face as he studied her in the flickering light of the campfire. 

"You're quite an amazing little thing, aren't you?" His voice was low again, too low to carry.

Amazing, her? Bridget blinked. That certainly wasn't an adjective that had ever been used to describe her, not that she knew of. "What do you mean?"

"You knew exactly what to do to help Patrick to back off." Lifting a hand to her face, he brushed some of her hair back, tucking it behind her ear. It was an almost tender gesture, matching the gentle look in his eyes. She wasn't sure that she'd ever seen quite that look on his face before. "You don't panic. You still manage to find small joys throughout the day, regardless of the situation.  Wonderfully smart, generous, passionate..." His voice dropped even lower, as if he was talking to himself and not to her as his hand curved under her chin so that he could rub his thumb over her lower lip, his eyes latching onto her mouth. "And so damn beautiful." She knew that he was going to kiss her then, not for an act or as an opening to bedding, but just for the pleasure of a kiss. 

Her body tingling, she tipped her head back and little further and met his lips with hers, her hands reaching up to touch his chest as he angled her towards him, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her against him.  The kiss was gentle, seductive, coaxing, the way a farmer might coax a baby horse into greeting him.  Bridget shivered with pleasure, opening her mouth to accept his tongue, her own moving to caress his.  As she kissed him back, she could feel rather than hear the groan deep in his chest as his arms tightened and their kiss deepened.  

Time seemed to suspend, allowing them to inhabit their own little bubble outside of space and time, outside of their situation.  They were just a man and a woman, touching each other in the darkness.  He admired her for her spirit, her tenacity and her joy of life as well as her beauty and she found herself believing in the man she saw underneath the front he portrayed, the protective, humorous, and surprisingly kind man that she was able to catch glimpses of when they were alone. Bridget felt her breasts growing heavy with need to be touched, the moistness between her legs welling in anticipation. 

When the kiss finally ended they were both panting for breath, lips swollen from use. 

"I want you," Garrett said in a hoarse whisper. In the darkness his eyes looked like liquid. "Patrick won't be paying attention to us tonight... he'll be busy with the Princess. Say yes, Bridget."

She recognized the plea for what it was, realizing that he was giving her a choice.  Of course he wanted her to say yes, but he wouldn't force her if she didn't. But could she? Staring up at him, she ran her fingers along his jawline, feeling the roughness of his stubble against their tips, feeling his jaw clenching at her touch.  He held himself quite still, as if afraid she'd run if he moved. Sliding her fingers over his firm lips, Bridget giggled as his tongue flicked out to lick them.  A choice... something none of the men had offered. Something he hadn't offered before. Although, she quite suddenly remembered that first night with him when he'd done nothing but hold her. Since then yes... he'd taken his pleasure with her, but always when it would be obvious to the other men if he didn't.

For some reason he didn't want them to know that he was different from them. 

But now, with no witnesses, he was allowing her to control the situation. So what did she want?

Their gazes met, steady. There was no pleading or insistence in his, only patience and desire. Bridget licked her lips, moistening them, and enjoyed seeing his eyes drop to watch her tongue flicking out. 

"Yes," she whispered. 

That was all it took. Garrett swept her up in his arms, one behind her back and the other under her knees, as she twined her own arms around his neck, and he carried her to the tent.  The sheer strength in his body was breath taking, he lifted and carried her like she weighed nothing. Once in the tent he laid her down carefully, kissing her soundly as he began to strip the clothes from her body. She helped as best she could at returning the favor, surprised at how much she was enjoying this slow build up, even though part of her wanted to go faster. The desires that Garrett had awoken in her were running rampant throughout her body, making her ache to feeling him plunging between her legs again, to feel his weight on top of her, pressing her down with his passion. 

She moaned into his mouth as he cupped her breasts, squeezing the soft flesh and toying with her nipples. The sensation traveled directly from her rosy buds to the slick folds between her thighs, her body tingling with anticipation as he teased and worshiped her.  The infuriating man only chuckled as he moved away from her, down her body, just as she tried to wrap her legs around him and draw him into her.  

"So eager," he murmured. "I like you this way."

Then his lips wrapped around on pert nipple, suckling it deep into his mouth, and she found she didn't have the words to answer.  She reached for his head, to hold him to her breast, but he took her hands and held them down on either side of her. To her surprise she felt another gush of wetness flowing through her core; some part of her liked being held down. Was it a conditioned response from her time with these men? Or was there a darkness inside of her that craved the vulnerability and helplessness that even Garrett created in her?

Writhing beneath him, she didn't fight his hold on her wrists, allowing him to pin her in place with her arms on either side of her body as he sucked and nipped at her breasts, drawing mouthfuls of flesh between his lips and sucking.  Pleasure coursed through her, her hips moving up to try and press her groin against him as he rolled a nipple between his teeth, her breathy moans filling the air. If Patrick was listening then he would know that Garrett was using her again. And that she was enjoying it. 

His tongue flicked over the soft flesh of her stomach, traveling down to her belly button which felt shockingly sensitive as he rimmed it.  Squirming, she moaned soft words of encouragement as his mouth continued its travels lower, kissing her hip bones and then down to her thigh, his face close enough to her mound that the soft curls brushed against his cheek.  Now she couldn't help but try to pull her wrists away from his grasp, her body aching for his touch on her core and since he wasn't doing it on his own, she desperately needed her hands to push his mouth onto her. 

Garrett just laughed again as she began to plead, and she knew that he was pleased for two reasons - one because if Patrick was listening then he would hear her begging but not be entirely sure why, and two because of his masculine pride over her need for him. He teased her, licking up both sides of her inner thighs, his breath hot on her sensitive folds, an occasional flick of the tongue against her wetness, and a steady grip on her hands as she squirmed and pleaded for him. 

When he finally did lay his mouth on her, she thought she might faint from the pleasure of it. His tongue took long, slow swipes up her folds, sweeping into every crevice and licking her from bottom to top, flicking against the little pleasure pearl at the end of every stroke. Bridget moved her hips eagerly, up and down, until he released her hands and slid his arms under her legs, propping up her thighs on each of his shoulders and tipping her body up so that he could more easily feast on her tender flesh.  Immediately she buried her hands in his hair as he began to suckle at her.  Although this new position returned the use of her hands, she found that she could no longer move her hips in the manner that she had been.  Her body was now more completely held in Garrett's thrall as he held her still, taking complete control over the oral pleasuring of her cunt. 

"Garrett... oh Garrett...." she quivered in his grasp like a tuning fork, every inch of her completely attuned to the rising tide inside of her as he pulled her legs farther apart with his hands, completely exposing her slick slit to his mouth and questing tongue.  The thick muscle pushed inside of her and wriggled, causing her tight tunnel to clamp down hard enough that it was forced out of her. The fingers in his hair tightened as she arched her back, her breasts thrusting upwards. 

As if he knew the peak that he'd brought her to, Garrett's mouth moved unerringly upwards to suck her most tender bit between his lips, pulling on it erotically as the waves of pleasure crashed against the shoreline and Bridget was lost in the foaming surf.  She cried out as the rapture overtook her, buffeted this way and that by the swells of her release.  With every flick of his tongue against her engorged bud she found herself crashing through a new wave of ecstasy. 

Releasing her from the hard suckling of his mouth, he renewed the long slow swipes of his tongue, drinking up her cream as she shuddered and twitched with the rolling aftershocks of her climax. Knowing from earlier in the day how overly stimulated he could make her when he chose, how exquisitely painful her orgasms could become, Bridget was thankful for this reprieve. Especially knowing that he wouldn't be done with her yet. 

Practically crawling back up her body, Garrett kissed her hard and deep so that she could taste her bittersweet musk on his lips.  This exchange of fluid only seemed to excite him more and she could feel his hardness nudging against her leg, moving upwards towards her core. Despite the fact that she had just experienced one release, she still found her insides aching to hold him.  There was just something so much more intimately satisfying about having him inside of her, it caused a fuller and more complete climax when they were joined together. 

Letting one of her legs slide down to the ground, he kept the other hooked over his elbow, opening her most sensitive parts to him as his erection rubbed against her swollen folds, creamy with the remnants of her orgasm. Bridget moaned into his mouth, taking his tongue deeper as her entire lower body tingled.  She felt wonderfully tight as he began to press into her, the position making it hard for her to arch up against him the way she wanted to, but at the same time she luxuriated in his control over her.  Having him take control over her body felt completely different now that she'd accepted him, made the choice to find pleasure with him. 

The thick rod of his cock pushed inside of her, shoving almost too quickly for comfort. Her walls spasmed around him and she whimpered into his mouth.  Somehow his love-making felt different, as if he was more desperate for her, as if he was on fire with a need that only she could quench. He held her open for his hard thrusts, her free leg wrapping around his body to pull him into her, a move that made him gasp and break off the kiss as his back arched, pushing himself deeply into her crevice. 

Crying out, Bridget clawed at his shoulders, her nails raking over his flesh in passion as they moved together. 

Bowing his head down Garrett began to nibble and kiss at her neck as he rode her body, murmuring her name over and over into her hair and skin.  She loved the way her name sounded on his lips, in that deep voice.  He said her name the way a man in the desert cried out for water. 

"Yes.... yes.... yes... yes..." she chanted breathlessly, her tension winding higher and higher.  The arm that wasn't  holding onto her leg wound behind her, gripping her shoulders and pulling her hard against him as he plundered her body, his lips returning to hers to cut off her voice.  She was drowning in his kiss, in the ecstasy that tightened her insides, feeling full to bursting with her hot passion. 

She screamed against his lips as his tongue delved deep into her mouth, muffling her erotic cries.  Digging her nails into his shoulders she clung to him, a tear leaking from the crease of her eye at the intense storm of sensation that flowed out from her convulsing tunnel, the fiery, tingling wash of sensual bliss that filled her up and exploded outwards. The intensity of her feminine climax had Garrett groaning as he ground himself against her, the spasmodic gyrations of her tunnel sucking at his cock until he thrust himself fully into her and held, filling her with hot fluid. Bridget's foot dug into his buttocks as he released into her body, holding him tightly against her until they were both sated to repletion. 

Slowly their muscles relaxed and his kiss softened, his tongue making little licks inside her mouth before their lips closed and then opened again, a series of kisses as the tension flowed out of them.  Bridget moaned softly as he shifted against her, her cunt feeling wonderfully sore from all the pleasure that he had wrung from her today. 

"Ah Bridget," he murmured, kissing her lips again and then trailing kisses down her jaw and neck. 

Eventually he shifted off of her and pulled her into his arms, tucking her head against his shoulder as he wrapped himself around her. Cocooned in his body, Bridget slept.

**********

It was midday when Samuel and Blaine returned, smirks on their faces and saddlebags loaded down with jewelry and silver.  Garrett strode out the meet them, as Patrick was busy entertaining the Princess.  He felt his chest constrict, knowing that their arrival meant a return to his real life.  

"How did it go?" he asked, his voice harsher than he meant it to be.  Out of the corner of his eye he saw his little maid glance at him, as if wondering what was going through his head.  Many times he had thought that she was almost too observant. 

"Well enough," said Samuel, looking very pleased with himself. "It was a good haul, but we couldn't get into the safe in the master bedroom."

Garrett groaned.  It occurred to him that his groan was only half-faked, as this was supposed to have been the very outcome that he'd hoped for. One of the reasons that Patrick kept him around was because there was no one better at getting into safes, and none of the other men had any talent in that area. Unless they had tools with which to break apart the iron bands around the box - tools which were heavy and noisy - Garrett's services were often needed.  All in all it had been the perfect cover for him for years now.  He still needed to get into the nobleman's house, specifically into that safe, but after last night he was more loathe than ever to leave Bridget alone in the camp. Especially since now Patrick would probably insist on Garrett undertaking the burglary alone, rather than having the men with him, since they had already cleaned out the rest of the haul. 

Leaving her alone with all three of the other men had never been his plan, but the only other option was refusing to go after the safe. But he had to go after the safe; his vows required it, duty demanded it and for the safety of king and country he must. 

"You'll have to go Garrett," said Patrick, and the three men turned to see their leader stepping out of his tent, looking far more satisfied than a mere fucking could provide.  It was quite obvious that he was pleased Garrett would have to quit the camp for a bit. Probably to re-establish his leadership with the other men, but there could be a more personal reason than that.

Now, more than ever, he didn't want to leave Bridget alone. But truthfully, she'd be safer here until he could return. So he'd just have to do so as quickly as possible. He nodded to Patrick curtly and strode over to his own saddlebags that held the necessary tools, his mind already racing. While he didn't think that Patrick would find any entertainment in abusing her when Garrett wasn't around to be baited by it, he didn't want to count on that. He couldn't wait until he could finish his mission and quit this camp, taking Bridget with him. After last night he felt quite sure that she'd be happy to go.  Although he wasn't entirely sure of her feelings, he'd finally admitted to himself how entangled his had become concerning her and he was fairly certain that they were returned.  

He just had to make sure that she wasn't harmed before he could take her off to England with him.

********

Bridget watched with astonishment as Garrett packed up his bags, spoke with each of the men individually and then climbed onto his horse.  Not one word of protest from him at Patrick's order... no, just on his horse and off to the same house Samuel and Blaine had just returned from. Which meant that he was going to be gone for at least one night, leaving her here at the mercy of the other men.  And not one look in her direction. 

Furiously she scrubbed at the morning's dishes.

"Ah... little maid," Samuel said coldly, his fingers twining through her hair and pulling her head back to meet his icy blue gaze. "I missed you."

After she'd finally decided to trust Garrett, had given herself over to him, he'd left her the mercy of his comrades without a second glance. Fury lit her heart.  Last night she'd fooled herself into thinking that she meant something to him, fooled herself into thinking that perhaps not everything about this situation was awful. Romantic meanderings that had no place in her life. This morning she'd thought herself half in love with him. Now she realized she hated the bastard.




Being the Maid Ch. 08



Garrett pounded through the forest, heading unerringly towards the nobleman's house, the end of his three yearlong mission. It was like hurtling towards the edge of a waterfall, one that he'd been watching coming for miles and miles. In some ways he couldn't believe that soon this would all be over and he'd be able to go home, in other ways he dreaded sorting his way through the complications that had arisen, now at the very end of his quest. He knew that he was traveling too quickly, that he should have some care in his approach on the house, but he was finding it hard to focus on such petty matters.

The entire ride his heart was pounding rhythmically as he chanted to himself - Get in the safe, get the papers, get out of there and get the girl.

It was the last of his list that had him hurrying so. Leaving Bridget in the camp, although not entirely defenseless considering her own ingenuity and his prior warnings to the other men as well as his last words, had been the hardest challenge he'd faced in his entire career. He was a bit of a control freak, not surprising considering his occupation, and it unnerved him to have something of such importance to him go unsupervised. When he'd left he hadn't even been able to look at her, for fear that his resolution would fail him and he'd find some way to convince the other men that whatever was in the safe wasn't important to them. After all, they were only after the jewels and heirlooms that were sure to be hidden away there. But he was after the papers and unfortunately Bridget had no importance to his mission and that came first - had to come first, no matter how much it made him ache to do so. More than one lovely, wonderful girl rested on the successful completion of his mission.

And so he raced along, spurring the horse to greater efforts, attempting to shorten his travels as much as possible. 

Get in the safe, get the papers, get out of there and get the girl. 

*********

A shudder of anxiety trickled up Bridget's spine as Samuel and Blaine took her into their tent, their movements hurried. Obviously they had become used to taking their pleasures on a regular basis and were eager to resume activities. They took turns stripping her as they divested themselves of their own clothes. 

She found herself straddling Blaine, Samuel's hands pushing down on her shoulders to lower her body onto Blaine's up thrust cock. As he shoved into her hole, she felt her body's defenses respond, dampening her sheathe to ease access. It hurt as he pushed in, thrusting his hips upwards, his hands full of her breasts, until he had taken several strokes and completely coated his cock with the lubrication that was leaking from her. Then Samuel's hands were pushing her forward so that her chest was pressed against Blaine's, her body writhing on top of him as Samuel pressed oil slick fingers to her anus.

The sensation was shocking as he penetrated her, the fullness of it strangely pleasurable. Letting out a low moan, she felt herself tightening down around both of them as Samuel loosened up her back door, preparing it for ravishment. Remembering her curiosity about what it would feel like to be wedged between the two of them, when she saw them taking the Princess in this manner, Bridget damned herself for those thoughts. She whimpered and arched her back and Samuel plundered her backside with his fingers... she couldn't imagine how he might fit his cock into that tight space, with Blaine's cock filling up her other hole there was so much less room in her lower body to accommodate another man. 

"Pull out a little," Samuel said gruffly as he removed his fingers from her ass. The blunt head of his rod pressed against her crinkled hole as Blaine pulled most of the way out, giving Samuel more space as he shoved into her ass with hole long stroke. Bridget shrieked a little, struggling to get away as Samuel plugged her back door. The big man let out a laugh, grabbing her wrists and holding them to the floor of the tent as he ground himself into her tight anus, rubbing his groin on her creamy buttocks and making his cock bounce inside of her. "That's it... keep fighting little maid..."

As she groaned and squirmed, he withdrew his cock partway and she felt Blaine shoving into her cunt. She was so full, so strangely plumped with meat, her body straining to accommodate the two massive dicks that were splitting her open. 

"Slower.... please...." she begged. 

Samuel whispered in her ear. "No."

They alternated hard strokes in her body, Samuel plunging into her ass as Blaine's cock receded from her pussy, Samuel lifting his weight from her as Blaine thrust upwards, sinking into her cunt to the hilt. Slowly the burning stretch subsided, the strain lessening, until she started to feel the heady pleasure of being taken in both holes. Her moans changed, from pained to pleasured, as they ravaged her, relieving their ardor with her reluctant body. The sensations were becoming overwhelming as Blaine pushed up hard, groaning and gripping her hips as he filled her cunt with fluid. 

Bridget collapsed on top of him, whimpering as Samuel's cock took over the action and he took his pleasure, no longer needing to match strokes with Blaine. The cock in her cunt was still half-hard, the swollen nub of her core rubbing against Blaine's groin with every plunge Samuel took into her rear entry. Blaine held her around the waist, keeping her securely on his cock as Samuel's punishing strokes threatened to dislodge her. The friction of her pearl rubbing against Blaine's body, the gripping convulsions of her cunt around his cock, and the burning thrusts into her ass combined to create a maelstrom of pleasure and pain, and Bridget cried out as her orgasm shuddered through her body, wrecking her senses with its intensity. 

She writhed between them, Blaine still taking small strokes with his half hard cock, extending his own pleasure as Samuel pounded hard, her spasming ass gripping his cock like a slick hand. He bellowed and slammed hard into her quivering tunnel, her sucking walls milking the seed from his balls as she came beneath him, her body undulating as she rode out her own pleasure. 

"Mmm that was nice," Samuel murmured into her ear as she moaned, her limbs feeling like jelly. Keeping his arms around her, he rolled them off of Blaine, his cock still lodged in her ass.

"Thanks," said the other man absently as he stood, no longer interested in Bridget now that his needs had been met. He walked out of the tent completely naked as Samuel gave Bridget's ass a few more thrusts from the side, obviously just enjoying the end of his fun, before pulling himself free of her body. 

Exhausted and somehow emotionally numb, Bridget rolled onto her stomach, keeping her face turned away from Samuel as tears sparked in her eyes. Not only had her body betrayed her, yet again, but she'd been betrayed by Garrett as well. She ignored Samuel as he got up and left the tent as well, lost in her own misery and thoughts. Somehow her misery seemed that much worse now that she knew she couldn't count on Garrett in any way. 

When Samuel returned to the tent, a damp cloth in his hand, she looked up at him in surprise. He shrugged and looked uncomfortable at the questions in her eyes as he handed her the cloth. It was warm. 

"Don't ask," he said gruffly, before turning his back and stalking out of the tent.

What on earth...?

******

Garrett had spent most of the late afternoon and early watching the house and reassuring himself that there was no one there but the servants. Of course, they were quite active during day light hours, which had frustrated his plans for quickness, as they prepared the house for the arrival of their master. It was a very large house, but it had the usual arrangement of rooms from what he could tell, making it very easy to determine where the master bedroom was. There didn't seem to be any kind of alarm, so he assumed Samuel and Blaine's burglary from the evening before had gone undiscovered. That didn't surprise him; they'd mostly stolen from the items that the Lord and Lady had sent on ahead, which wouldn't be discovered until the Lord and Lady were in residence and decided they wanted to wear their jewels or use the good silver. 

Of course, the most expensive items would be in the safe. The most expensive and the most important, since that's where Garrett knew the man kept his documents. And once he got his hands on them, he would be able to return to the camp and Bridget, and then home. 

Crouching low in the bushes, he watched as shadowy figures moved through the house, some windows lit by candles and others completely dark. There were a lot fewer people moving about now that the sun had gone down and the servants were retiring for the night, obviously eager to sleep while they could. Fortunately the servant's quarters were across the house from the master bedroom, so he should have no problem once he got inside. 

The last light that he was waiting for, on the back of the house, went out. There were other lights to be seen, on the east side of the house where the servants' rooms were, but he wasn't willing to wait for everyone to be abed. The sooner he could do this, the sooner he could return the camp. 

He moved in small spurts, keeping to the shadows, padding silently across the grass. Every few feet he stopped and listened, watched, confirmed that he didn't see any other movements and that nothing had changed. If he was seen and had to run away then he'd have to wait for another night, and once the house was alert it would remain so and make his job all the harder. So many times he'd done this, it was becoming almost as natural as breathing. 

Finally he reached the house and he carefully dealt with the lock on one of the lower windows, sliding it deftly from its place. At least this part was easy; all he had to do was follow the directions that Samuel and Blaine had given him, saving him the time of figuring out what kind of lock it was and how best to silently deal with it. Easing the window open, he slid noiselessly over the casement before closing it behind him - although he didn't lock it. 

One of the strengths of these types of country houses was their layouts; they were all so similar in design that guests immediately felt comfortable and servants instinctively knew where to go within the. That great strength, when it came to ease of living and receiving guests, was also one of the great downfalls, because people like him, who were familiar with the layout, would be able to find their way as easily as a servant. Except that he didn't belong there. 

Garrett spared little attention for the lush tapestries on the walls or the carpets beneath his feet, he was busy listening for any whisper of movement. Reassured that no one had heard his entrance and was coming to check on the room, he carefully opened the door and slid into the hall. It was dark enough that he stood quite still as his eyes adjusted, fortunately it didn't appear that there were any obstacles along the hallway. People who lined their halls with statuary or plants made things so much more difficult. 

Padding swiftly and quietly through the manor, he could feel his heart pounding. He was moving so much faster than he normally did, trying to keep his usual standards of care and finding himself impatient with the necessity of it. When he came to the stairs that would be used by servants, he kept his feet close to the walls where they would be least likely to cause the floorboards to creak, and he ghosted his way up to the second floor. Pausing at the top of the stairs, he forced himself to wait and listen again. 

Silence.

The acoustics of the manor were well done, making it so that noise from the servants' quarters wouldn't disturb anyone in the main part of the house and vice versa. And it seemed there were no wanderers at the moment. Trying to quell his excitement, the rush of adrenaline that came as he thought about how close he was to his goal, Garrett padded his way to the Master bedroom and the safe kept within.

******** To Bridget's surprise, she was unmolested for the rest of the afternoon and as she prepared dinner. The tension that had been in the camp when Garrett was present seemed almost completely gone. Patrick sprawled across his seat, the Princess Eleanor in his lap, and he idly played with her breasts as Samuel and Blaine showed him the goods they'd accumulated. Sparkles and metallic gleams caught her eye, even as she tried to pay attention to the food she was cooking over the campfire. There was an art to making food over an open flame and Bridget knew that it was all too easy to burn things. She didn't want to give Patrick an excuse to turn his punishing attention on her. 

Mostly she remained quiet, thinking. Wondering. Why had Samuel brought her that clothe? It was something along the lines of what Garrett would have done, had he been there. She hadn't expected to receive anything from him or Blaine, certainly they'd never shown any concern for her before once they were done with their pleasure. And on top of that, she was still furious with Garrett. When he came back she hoped he didn't expect her to quickly submit to sharing pleasure with him, as far as she was concerned he could do all he wanted to try and get a response from her, she wasn't interested. If that ruined things for him, then all the better. He'd played her like a fool, making her think that perhaps there was something more between them than his desire to spend his seed. 

It wasn't until the men were finishing up dinner that Patrick's attention turned back to her, after having ignored her the entire day. She could feel his eyes on her, assessing her, watching her, and she avoided looking back at him. The lack of Garrett's presence in the camp suddenly weighed more heavy on her, and she was angry at herself for wishing he was there. But she couldn't deny that she felt safer when he was and now that he was gone she was much more frightened than she had been before. 

"I think I'd like some entertainment," said Patrick, as if the thought had suddenly occurred to him, but his wicked smile said that he had a plan in place. He turned to Samuel and Blaine. "Why don't we set up a game for our two lovely ladies to compete in?"

"What kind of game?" asked Blaine, for once looking more intrigued than indifferent. Samuel sat up straighter, his attention also caught by Patrick's suggestion. The sinking sensation in Bridget's gut made her want to run. She was quite sure that she wouldn't like Patrick's idea of a game, but there was no point in running. 

"I'd like to see how much our lovely ladies have learned from us," said Patrick. "We'll set them three contests, best two out of three wins. The loser spends the night with me, to do with what I please." His eyes flicked towards Bridget and she almost screamed from the anxiety that was running through her. Patrick wanted her to lose. He wanted her to lose so that he could have an entire night with her, while Garrett was away - and who knew what shape she would be in when he returned. "Winner will get to choose between Samuel and Blaine."

Fury swept through her again, as strongly as her fear, but it wasn't directed at Patrick. It was still directed at Garrett. How dare he leave her here, in this position? If it hadn't been for him then Patrick surely would have been content with the Princess, it was Garrett's supposed attentions that had instigated Patrick's desire for her. If Garrett hadn't pretended to care for her then Patrick wouldn't be trying to provoke Garrett by using her. 

But she was the one who had to deal with the consequences, especially since Garrett wasn't here. Damn him. 

"Sounds interesting," said Blaine, leaning back. His good natured boyish grin was almost more sinister than if he'd scowled, under the circumstances. "How do we start?"

"Let's have a race," Patrick said. Tipping Eleanor off his lap - her face a study in indignation - he reached into the bag of stolen goods that Blaine and Samuel had brought back and pulled out two long strands of pearls, equal in length. "But we'll make it interesting and stuff these in their cunts. Whoever finishes first wins, but only if they still have at least one pearl left in their hole. If they lose all the pearls from their cunt then they lose the race. Loser gets a spanking and winner gets the pearls."

Samuel laughed and grabbed Bridget hauling her to her feet. "Sounds like fun. Let's strip them down."

She trembled in Samuel's grip as he pulled clothing from her body. This didn't sound like fun at all... she had to win or she'd find herself at Patrick's mercy again and this time she didn't think that she would get off so easily. 

Both of the women were bent over as the men stuffed the long strands of pearls into their pussies. Bridget moaned and wriggled at the strange sensation as she was slowly filled with the little globes. When she stood straight again, they shifted inside her, rubbing against her sensitive inner walls. The men walked them over to the "start," where Patrick and Blaine would wait for them, Samuel stood across the clearing, the furthest distance he could get from them. Walking was even stranger as the pearls shifted and moved inside of her; she tensed her muscles around them to try and hold them in place but that only made them rub her more. It was intensely arousing and she could feel her pussy slickening with cream; which worried her because that could only make the pearls harder to keep in her pussy. 

They had left three pearls hanging outside of each of the woman, and those slapped against her cunt lips as she walked. Biting on her lower lip, Bridget stared across what suddenly seemed like a great expanse to where Samuel was standing. 

"You have to go touch Samuel's hand and then come back here and touch my hand," said Patrick, grinning with anticipation. The men all looked like they were seriously enjoying this prime entertainment, even Blaine was all lit up on the inside. Bridget hated all of them. "First one back, pearls still in her pussy, wins. If you both lose your pearls then first one back wins."

"On the count of three," said Blaine. "One... two... THREE!"

Bridget and the Princess both lurched forward and the pearls seemed to slip inside of her. Screwing up her face in concentration, Bridget began moving as quickly as she could towards Samuel, ignoring the Princess as much as possible and concentrating on her own trials. The more she moved, the more aroused she became as the pearls rubbed and moved; by the time she reached Samuel and stretched out her arm to tap his hand, they felt as though they were lower in her pussy, moving out towards the ground.

The Princess was only a few feet behind her and Bridget began to pick up the pace on her way back, hurrying to return to the other two men before the pearls could fall. Samuel passed her on the way, able to move much more quickly than the women. Frantically she picked up her pace as she felt the pearls shift lower again, traveling towards her entrance now that they were well slicked with her juices. Unfortunately her quickened pace caused the pearls to shift even more dramatically; her pussy rippled, on the verge of cumming, and the clenching of her muscles when the pearls were so close to her entrance caused them to begin to slip from her body, a cascade of shiny beads.

Biting back tears of frustration, Bridget darted forward quickly and slapped Patrick's hand. Now her only hope was that the Princess wouldn't be able to hold onto her pearls as well. 

Laughing uproariously, the men cheered the Princess on, Patrick's hands wandering over Bridget's reluctant but unprotesting body. Her heart sank as the Princess came closer, moving slowly now that she knew all she had to do was keep the pearls in to win. When she slapped Patrick's hand, the Princess shot Bridget a triumphant look and the little maid suddenly realized that she hated the Princess almost as much as the men. Maybe more. If she had won she wouldn't have felt triumphant, she would have felt bad for the Princess and relieved for herself. 




Being the Maid Ch. 08



"Hang the pearls around her neck," said Patrick cheerfully as he half-dragged Bridget over to a log where he could sit down, pulling her across his lap. Bridget whimpered as her ass and pussy were made vulnerable by the position, her head hanging down low, feet barely touching the ground and the firm globes of her ass high in the air. "Both sets."

As his hand caressed Bridget's buttocks, she could hear the Princess protesting over the dirty pearls from Bridget's pussy being draped around her neck. Then Patrick's hand came down hard on her left cheek and she squealed, feeling her flesh wobbling, the sharp sting of his hand making her body jerk. He quickly followed with a slap to her right cheek and then began beating her bottom in earnest as she yelped and squirmed. The hits weren't particularly hard, but as they began to build up on her ass, it began to hurt more. 

The creamy color of her buttocks were quickly turning a rosy pink and darkening. Patrick left no skin untended, from the curving top of her rump to the tender skin between her bottom and thighs. He even slapped a few hard spanks to her vulnerable and swollen cunt, making Bridget shriek as the pain flared from her core. As the spanking continued she began to kick her legs, unable to hold still as her buttocks throbbed and stung, the tender globes now a nice cherry red. Expertly, Patrick hooked his leg around, catching hers and holding them down, keeping her in place as the spanking continued. 

Finally he finished and his hand caressed her hot cheeks as Bridget sobbed, her head hanging down. It felt like her ass was on fire, and her poor pussy wasn't much better. 

"Very nice," said Patrick, his hand rubbing over her tender skin, his forearm still pressed across her back so that she couldn't rise. Bridget squirmed, her tears slowing as she became aware of his hard cock pressed against her hip. Spanking her had aroused him.

When she was released and set on her feet, she could see from the bulges in Samuel and Blaine's pants that they had enjoyed the show too. Misery sunk in deep. How was she ever going to survive this night? She cupped her hands over her buttocks, feeling the hot burn of her skin against her palms. 

Beside her, Patrick stood, his eyes glinting with pleasure. 

"What should we do for the next bit of our entertainment?" he asked as her heart sank in her chest. Even Eleanor looked anxious now that it was her ass back on the line too. 

"I have an idea," said Samuel, stepping forward.

********

Triumph surged through Garrett as he sorted through the safe; it was a treasure trove beyond imagination. What had Lord Dubois been thinking to leave such important documents at such an out of the way location? Or perhaps he thought that it would be safer in his country house, far away from his person and where it was least likely suspected to be. Garrett had been after a letter, one particular letter that would reveal everything and had received a tip that the letter, the final piece to the puzzle, would be at this location. If he hadn't been desperate, after three years of trying to assemble the pieces, he would have never listened to the tip. Instead he'd been rewarded with more than just the final piece to the puzzle; the documents he was holding was going to cause a great amount of consternation and also a great amount of mental peace. 

Names, dates, locations... it was all here. Everything his father could want and more. Hard, incontrovertible proof of everything they'd suspected, of every person they'd suspected, and some that they hadn't. 

Relief swept him as well. His mission was truly done. Not complete, however. He still needed to return home, safely, and with documents in hand. Carefully replacing everything he wasn't taking back into the safe, Garrett closed it up and ghosted out of the room. Despite his triumph he couldn't help but also feel rather anxious. In some ways, leaving Patrick's band was probably going to be more dangerous than anything he'd done up to this point, and he was going to be putting Bridget at risk at the same time, but there was no help for it. 

Moving through the house as quickly and quietly as possible, he returned to the first floor and back out the window he had come in. Once on the grounds he had to force himself to be careful and cover his tracks as he returned to the woods where his horse was waiting for him. Practically vaulting onto the poor animal, he grimaced in displeasure for the paces he was putting it through, but now that he had the documents he found the need to be back at the camp more urgent than ever. Leaving Bridget alone for more than a night was not an option, even if riding through the darkness on a tired animal was dangerous, he didn't feel like he could wait till morning.

Who knew what would happen to her if he was gone for that long.

********

Bridget knelt in front of Blaine, wondering at Samuel's suggestion. It was another kind of race, this one to finish one of the men off in their mouths. Samuel instructed Bridget to pleasure Blaine and the Princess to pleasure Patrick. The loser would receive a strapping from Patrick's belt and the winner would pleasure Samuel with her mouth. While neither outcome was exactly pleasant, pleasuring Samuel was entirely preferable. Especially because her buttocks were already red and aching, she couldn't imagine withstanding a strapping after the spanking she'd just received.

And at the same time, it almost seemed as though Samuel was colluding with her to keep that very thing from happening. After all, the rules that Patrick stated were that the men weren't allowed to use their hands on the women, it was up to the women to use their hands and mouth on the men to get them off. If she'd had to pleasure Samuel like that, it would have taken forever. He never came while she had control of herself, although he had occasionally allowed her to bob her head up and down on his shaft, none of the little tricks she'd learned to use on Blaine and Garrett ever worked on him; Samuel wouldn't come until he had his hands on her head and was harshly fucking her throat. 

It almost seemed like he'd purposefully set her up with Blaine to give her a fighting chance at winning. On top of the fact that this kind of race allowed Bridget to be on her knees, giving her abused bottom time to recover. Even if she ended up being strapped at the end of this, at least it would be after a rest period. Although she was determined not to be strapped. 

To the left of her, the Princess was kneeling between Patrick's thighs. Both he and Blaine's cocks were standing straight upright, fluid leaking onto their reddish heads. They were both very aroused. 

"On the count of three," said Samuel, managing to sound both lascivious and amused. "One... two... three..."

Bridget lowered her head quickly to Blaine's cock, giving him a long swipe of her tongue across the sensitive head, lapping up the salty fluid that had leaked from the little slit. Groaning his appreciation, Blaine leaned back and watched as she went to work. Taking a few long, slow swipes up each side of his cock, Bridget twirled her tongue around his knob again, before pressing her lips to it and slowly moving them down over his shaft. Working on his cock also helped distract her from focusing on the still tender flesh of her butt, which felt hot in the night air. Sliding her hands up his thighs towards his groin, Bridget began to bob her head up and down, coating his length with her saliva to make it easier for her. 

Humming in the back of her throat, she carefully slid his entire length into her mouth, easing the head of his dick into her tight throat as she struggled against gagging. As she did that, pressing her lips against his groin, her hands reached his balls and she squeezed them gently. Blaine let out a much louder lusty moan as she did so, obviously appreciating her efforts. Beside her she could see movement as the Princess bobbed her own head up and down, the soft wet noise of her mouth sliding over Patrick's cock, and the groans of the bandit as the Princess slaved over his meat. 

Trying to ignore them, Bridget began to bob her head in a steady rhythm, taking as much of Blaine in her mouth as she could with each stroke. He was hot and hard against her tongue, and she teased the sensitive underside of his length as she moved up and down. Using her fingers to stroke his body, just under his balls, Bridget was pulling out every trick she knew to make Blaine come hard and fast - at least, as fast as he could. She remembered her lesson from trying to move too fast during the last race, being sloppy and fast with her mouth would only get her a strapping - not to mention that she would have then lost two of the contests.

Increasing the suction, Bridget picked up the pace a little, ignoring the strain in her jaw and neck as she tugged on Blaine's balls, pulling them away from his straining cock as he began to jerk beneath her. His cock pulsed in her mouth and she sucked eagerly, for the first time, as fluid filled her cheeks and stomach. 

"Aaaahh bloody hell that's good," Blaine said in a hoarse voice as Bridget milked the last of his fluid. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the Princess still working over Patrick's hard rod. Lifting her face from Blaine's groin, she tried to feel a sense of triumph, but mostly she just felt relief that she wasn't the one going to be strapped. Although finding it in her heart to feel bad for the Princess was going a little too far. 

She was about to get to her feet when suddenly Samuel appeared beside her. 

"Ready for your reward?" he asked, leering down at her. 

Answering no wouldn't get her anywhere, so Bridget just submissively turned and opened her mouth. To her surprise, Samuel didn't plunge in right away; although he had his hand on her head, controlling her, he kept her far enough away to just lick and suck on the end. After a few minutes of treating his cock more like she just had Blaine's, she heard Patrick grunt his climax behind her. 

Once the Princess was in position for her strapping, Blaine holding her in place, Samuel's movements became more aggressive. He'd positioned himself so that he would have prime viewing of the event, keeping Bridget's back to it. The shrieks and cries of the Princess filled her ears, interspersed with the sound of leather hitting flesh over and over again. Now he was the Samuel she was used to, his hand forcing her head down on his cock, filling her mouth and throat with thick male as she struggled to breathe. 

Finally he pushed her face firmly against his body, her lips wrapped around the base of his dick, and began to spurt hot cum straight down to her belly. Bridget's throat worked convulsively, massaging him, as she swallowed. Behind her she could hear the Princess' screams getting louder, as if Patrick was whipping her harder in reaction to Samuel's climax. 

Perhaps there was some validity to that thought, because once Samuel pulled his flaccid cock from her mouth, the sounds of the strapping stopped and the Princess' sobs were the only noise louder that Bridget's ragged breathing. Samuel reached down and pulled Bridget to her feet, her knees aching a bit after she'd spent so much time on them. Turning she saw the Princess also being helped up, tears still running down her cheeks. Patrick looked almost entranced as he ran his hand over her abused bottom. The Princess winced and Bridget realized that he must have squeezed that tender flesh. A shudder went through her. Now she found the ability to feel sorry for the Princess, much good it did either of them.

Smiling and already hard again from having strapped the Princess, Patrick turned to Blaine. "Well, do you want to choose the final game?"

*********

The horse needed rest. And if he was going to be honest, Garrett needed rest as well. He gritted his teeth, slowing the horse to a canter and then a walk. Foundering the creature would only slow him down more. To be honest, if he continued at this pace he would be in no shape for any kind of confrontation either.

Sighing with reluctance, he brought the horse to a halt. It would do both of them good to rest, and he had made good time already. Better than expected. If he slept for a few hours then he would arrive back at the camp just after sun up. After all, he hadn't left Bridget completely unattended, even if he wasn't entirely sure of the man's trustworthiness. 

Settling the horse and hobbling it, Garrett situated himself at the base of a tree, falling asleep almost instantly.

*******

The 'game' that Blaine suggested was a sort of Round Robin. Both women had to fuck all three men, but they could fuck them in whatever order they wanted, however they wanted, and whichever one got all three men off first won. Not just that round, but the entire 'contest' that Patrick had set up, which meant that if Bridget was going to avoid ending up in Patrick's bed tonight she had to beat the Princess.

"Three!" Patrick said and Bridget darted for him. They'd had her and the Princess start at the same place, making them run across the clearing to reach the men, which gave Bridget the advantage because she hadn't just been strapped and she was in better general shape than the Princess when it came to running. 

She reached the leader a few steps ahead of the Princess, who glared at her and immediately went to Samuel. Bridget wasn't sure if the Princess was feeling possessive or if she just realized that Patrick would be easier to climax now than later, now while he was still aroused and eager from strapping the princess. While it didn't seem entirely fair that Bridget would be the one to benefit from the Princess' pain, she wasn't going to give up whatever advantage she could get.

The Princess had obviously pegged Samuel as being an equally hard case to please and sought to have him while he had only been pleasured once. 

Taking Patrick's hand, Bridget pulled him off to the side, trying to think quickly of how she could most arouse his passions. Letting him take control seemed to be key, from the one night she'd spent with him, and pain and fear aroused him more than anything else, but obedience wasn't far behind. He'd already had his dose of pain from the Princess and Bridget truly was afraid of him so she let that show in her face as she lay down on the ground.

Spreading her legs wide she grabbed at her ankles, holding them far apart and making her body incredibly vulnerable to him as she exposed her cunt and tender bottom. Her buttocks were still rosy in the campfire light and her terror of him was clearly etched on her face. 

"Please take me," she said, her voice trembling, and she saw his cock jerk in reaction. 

"You want this?" he asked, fisting his cock. Behind him she could see the Princess mounting Samuel and already beginning to ride him. 

"Yes please," she said breathlessly. "I want you to punish me with your big cock."

The avid lust on his face only increased her anxiety as he dropped to his knees and slapped her ass hard. She yelped as his hand came down on her tender ass, a sharp reminder of the spanking that he'd already given her, and he let out a low groan as he gripped that flesh hard. Bridget whimpered. 

"Hold your legs just like that," he said, his voice filled with lust and need. "Don't let go."

And he plunged into her body as Bridget cried out and tried to obey his order. The initial thrust was brutally hard and fast, stretching her tight tunnel ruthlessly with his thick meat. It hurt and she allowed herself to scream and shriek as much as she wanted, only now realizing just how much she'd stifled her voice before because she hadn't wanted Garrett to become hurt while confronting Patrick. Now Garrett was no longer here and she cried out, tears springing to her eyes as her cunt was roughly opened and pounded.

The pitiful cries seemed to spur Patrick onward, his low grunts and groans of pleasure accompanying her whimpers and yelps. Grabbing onto her breasts for leverage, her mauled her teats as he pulled her hard against him, slowing her movement through the dirt from the force of his thrusts. Bridget sobbed and squirmed, struggling to hold her legs open under his steady assault, his thick rod splitting her core over and over again.

That obedience, combined with his excitement from strapping the Princess and his brutal fucking of Bridget's soft cunt, pushed Patrick over the edge. Bridget shrieked as he pounded even harder between her splayed legs, bruising thrusts against her tender folds, and her knees bent as she lost control over her muscles, her body automatically trying to protect itself from his punishing cock.

The rapid fire shoves of his iron rod into her clasping and not entirely willing orifice was followed by a hard grip on her breasts as he rubbed himself against those tender folds, his cock throbbing inside of her as he came. Bridget choked back a sob of relief. Her pussy ached from the brutal assault, as did her breasts, joining the soreness in her ass that she'd already received at Patrick's hands.

She sincerely hoped that this was the last pain she received from him this evening.

To her relief, the Princess was still involved with Samuel, although she had now moved so that he was on top. Yet it didn't seem to be quite enough, he was almost playing with her, drawing out the fucking. Apparently she hadn't excited him enough for him to lose control, the way Bridget had attempted to do with Patrick.

Feeling more than a little relieved, Bridget headed over to Blaine, assessing as she moved. He was always so indifferent that she wasn't entirely sure what would appeal to him. Finally she decided to just do what she could, focusing all of her attention on him. While he often seemed rather indifferent to her, he certainly wasn't indifferent about taking his pleasure. Blaine was lazy and he liked what felt good. The mounted position that the Princess had tried (and failed) with Samuel would probably work quite well with him. 

Bridget gently pulled Blaine down to the ground and climbed on top of him, one leg on either side of his body. Fortunately he was already hard from watching her with Patrick and the Princess with Samuel, and Bridget thanked her lucky stars that she had finished first so far. It would make things easier. Arranging herself on top of him, Bridget pressed the crown of his cock to her hole and began to tease his tip, lowering herself just enough to take the head of his cock into her body before raising herself up again. Moaning, Blaine filled his hands with her breasts as she teased him, wanting to stoke his arousal even more before she began in earnest. 

When he began lifting his hips upwards, trying to thrust into her body despite her movements, Bridget quite suddenly sank onto him, both of them crying out as he filled her completely. She ground herself down on top of him for a moment and then began to rise and fall, her legs working as she leaned backwards so that he could full appreciate the view of her bouncing on top of him, her breasts wobbling on her chest with every movement. It was hard on her legs and she could feel her thighs burning as she worked his cock, concentrating on tightening her inner muscles around him. The added benefit was that clasping his rod with her pussy enhanced her own enjoyment of the proceedings. 

When her legs were too tired to maintain the position, she leaned forward so that her breasts were pressed against his body, working her hips faster and harder. She could see the Samuel finally climaxing as he fucked the Princess, his hoarse cries spurring her own efforts as she knew that the Princess would also now be moving on to her second man. Leaning down, she began to lick and nip at Blaine's skin, trying to find the sensitive spots, concentrating on those areas where she had reacted most strongly to Garrett's touch. His collarbone, the hollow at the base of his throat, his ear lobes... oh he liked that. Bridget suckled at the lobe more strongly as Blaine grunted, his hands sliding down her body to her hips so that he could move her harder, faster, his need becoming more urgent. 




Being the Maid Ch. 08



Biting at his earlobe, Bridget could feel her lower body start to burn and ache with the tension that was gathering, her loins tingling with sensation as Blaine's cock stiffened inside of her. She squeezed his cock as much as she could with her cunt walls, and the increased friction set off her own orgasm. With her cries of pleasure ringing in his ears, her pussy convulsing around his rod, Blaine reached his own point of culmination. Groaning with satisfaction, he filled her pussy with its second load of hot seed for the night, his fingertips digging into the soft swells of her buttocks as he gripped her hips and rubbed her back and forth on top of him. 

Panting, Bridget collapsed on top of him as he finished his ecstasy, bucking beneath her while her pussy spasmed and pulled at his cock. She whimpered, her twice-used hole feeling sore and sensitive. 

Pushing herself up, Bridget could feel cum dripping down onto her thighs as she turned to face Samuel. He regarded her with amused, rather than interested, eyes. Unlike Blaine, he wasn't aroused merely by watching others have sex, especially after he'd already been satisfied by Bridget's mouth and then the Princess. In many ways Bridget still held the advantage - she was ahead, and the Princess was still working on Patrick. But her last man would be Blaine, and Blaine was much easier to please than Samuel. Already he was watching Patrick pounding between the Princess' legs and Bridget was sure that the Princess would have no trouble arousing him.

Which left her with the problem of Samuel. Licking her lips, Bridget eyed him warily, her muscles tensing as she realized she had no idea what to do. Something about her stance seemed to interest him and he cocked his head at her, his entire demeanor shifting so that he looked like a tall, pale, blonde predator as the campfire light flickered over his form and features. Licking her lips, Bridget was hit with sudden inspiration. She took a step back, away from him, and Samuel's shoulders tensed, his eyes alight with interest. She took another step back away from him and his cock twitched. 

"Samuel..." she said, her voice husky, throat still sore from his cock's abuse. His eyes met hers and she turned and ran. A gleeful laugh rang out behind her and she heard him spring after her.

Suddenly her heart was in her throat, pounding as she ran, adrenaline surging through her as she fled before him. The sounds of his breathing and pounding feet were coming closer as she crossed the clearing and Bridget truly felt like prey, fleeing before a hunter, as she sobbed out a ragged breath, her limbs unable to go faster, longer than they already were. The chase had become real, her basest instincts taking over. Fingers brushed the back of her arm and she jerked it away; unfortunately the movement caused her to stumble and she fell and rolled onto the grass. Just as she was about to get up Samuel grabbed her ankle and yanked it back, sending her falling face forward. She let out a cry and threw her hands out in front of her to break her fall, but it still knocked the breath from her body. 

Trying to gather her breath and thoughts, Bridget attempted to crawl away from him, but he grabbed her hips and pulled her back, putting his legs over hers. The front of his lower legs were pressed against the center of the backs of her calves, keeping her legs apart and pinned to the ground, his unyielding hands gripping her hips as he pulled her back towards him. Bridget flailed, twisting and cursing at him as his cock rammed forward, splitting her cunt with one brutal stroke. His groin bounced off of her buttocks as he pumped inside of her from behind, shoving her body forward. 

Twisting and struggling, they grappled with each other even though Bridget's legs were pinned in place she never stopped fighting him. And Samuel managed to keep fucking her, his cock remaining firmly lodged in her pussy no matter how she moved. Somehow she managed to get a hold of his arm and she bit him in her frenzy to break free. With a roar of anger, Samuel grabbed her hair, twisting it around his hand and pulling her head up. Bridget howled as he pulled his cock free from her pussy and plunged into her ass in retaliation, with no more lubrication than the seed and cream he'd coated his cock in while he'd been seated in her cunt. 

Her ass burned from the sudden penetration, her guts cramping as his cock rooted around in her bowels, her muscles spasming around the intruder. The hand in her hair tugged harder and Bridget found herself on her knees, her body arched with her breasts thrust forward, her hands above her head gripping Samuel's wrist as he plundered her tight ass. The angle allowed him to penetrate her deeply and made it harder for her to struggle, tears leaking down her cheeks as the sharp ache in her bowels stabbed with every hard thrust, her cramped tunnel shuddering as she automatically clenched and released around his shockingly hard rod. 

"Please... Nooooooooo...slower... oh God.... ."

Chasing her had aroused him, subduing her had made him into a rutting animal, and her biting counter assault had inflamed him. Bridget sobbed, tears falling from her cheeks to her out thrust breasts as he ravaged her ass, spearing her body between her soft buttocks and turning a deaf ear to her pleas and cries. 

Suddenly he released her hair and Bridget fell forward, her ass high in the air, hips held by his strong hands, and her lower body collapsed on the ground like a supplicant before him. Her ass burned as he began to fuck it harder, moving with powerful strokes in and out of her protesting body, his balls slapping against her splayed pussy. The orgasm that she'd had with Blaine had left her sensitive and this position meant that Samuel's cock was rasping over a sweet spot deep inside of her, causing her body to shudder as pain and pleasure began to mingle, a potent stew that made her tighten even further around him. 

Holding her hips fast, Samuel pistoned in and out of her, his straining grunts punctuating every deep thrust. Moaning, Bridget shuddered beneath him as the pleasure built up again inside of her, more strongly now that it was battling the burning ache that his rape of her ass was causing. The real pain was fading into a kind of general hurt, but she had begun to move back against him, her body accepting the rough anal fucking as pleasure mounted and surged between her legs. 

"Oohhh... oh please...." Bridget's body coiled and arched, her insides burning in an entirely new way as a tremor went through her tunnel, a strangely painful kind of ecstasy fizzing through her skin. Her empty cunt convulsed and her ass tightened, bearing down on Samuel's hard cock as she climaxed, her body pulsing with torturous rapture. 

Bellowing as her ass gripped his cock in a vise, so tight it was almost painful, Samuel thrust hard into that clenching portal and spurted deep inside of her body, filling that protesting hole with frothy cream. She sobbed as his rigid length pierced her, adding to the mix of sensations roiling throughout her body, the throbbing of his erection against the tight ring of her anus forcing every spurt of seed deep into her bowels. Grinding himself against her cheeks, Samuel moaned as he finished his ravishment of the little maid, letting her tight hole milk every last drop of cum from his satisfied cock. 

Slowly Bridget came back to earth, whimpering a little as Samuel eased his cock from her backside. That abused hole protested even the smallest movement and gaped emptily when he had vacated the premises. 

"Come on little maid," he said in an almost comforting voice. "I think you've won."

That news heartened Bridget and she finally noticed that the sounds of sex were still coming from across the clearing. She hadn't even made it to the woods. Standing halfway between them and the campfire was a dark shape, rigid anger in its lines. As they returned across the clearing, Bridget taking rather mincing steps to try and ease the aches in her abused holes, she could see that it was Patrick. Behind him, by the campfire, the Princess was riding Blaine, fast and hard, the wet sounds of her pussy squelching down on his dick seeming to echo in the silence.

Before Samuel and Bridget drew level with Patrick, he turned and walked back towards the camp fire. 

Suddenly Samuel leaned down and whispered in her ear. "When you choose who to spend the night with, choose me."

And then he strode ahead of her, joining Patrick as the bandit leader watched the Princess finally bring Blaine to climax. Confused, still shaken, and completely exhausted, Bridget trotted after them and gathered up her clothing, wondering if she dared cover herself. 

"Come here wench," Patrick snapped, obviously displeased with the Princess as he pulled her off of Blaine. She pouted and then glared as she saw that Bridget and Samuel had returned. "You're mine for the night." Something in his voice must have told her that he was more than a little displeased over Bridget's narrow escape, because the Princess seemed to blanch a little as he pushed her in the direction of his tent. Turning to Bridget he sneered. "Whose bedroll do you choose little maid?"

Darting her eyes back and forth between Samuel and Blaine, who was getting to his feet, looking as blandly indifferent as usual, she hesitated. Samuel gave her a hard look, which didn't exactly recommend him... but something in the way Patrick and Blaine looked at each other didn't reassure her either. While she considered Blaine the easiest to deal with out of the three, his indifference to her could be nearly as dangerous as Patrick's or Samuel's interest. After all, Samuel had already indicated that he wanted her for the night and she didn't think he would be interested in adding anyone else to their proceedings. Would Blaine be willing to share if Patrick asked? She suddenly felt quite sure that the answer was yes.

Tired as she was, it was hard to think, but she prayed that she was making the right decision. "Samuel."

Both Patrick and Samuel tensed, looking at each other, reminding her so strongly of Garrett that it almost made her want to cry. There were undercurrents going on in this camp and she knew that she didn't understand all of them, but this had to be the most confusing of all. For a long moment the two men studied each other, Blaine looking back and forth between them, and then Patrick stalked off to his tent. 

"Come on," Samuel said, pulling her off to the other tent. Bridget stumbled, hoping that he didn't expect any more fight from her this night. She was too exhausted. Just getting to the tent seemed to take all the reserves of energy she had left. To her surprise, Samuel just laid down beside her in the bedroll. 

For a long moment Bridget stared at him, trying to see his features in the darkness. It looked like his eyes were closed. Somewhat shocked, she buried her head down and slipped into an exhausted slumber, despite the sounds of muffled pain coming from the other tent.

*********

It was just after dawn when Garrett rode into the camp, feeling better for having taken some time to rest the night before. The camp was quiet, no movement to be seen and he worried that Bridget wasn't up and moving yet. Dismounting, he hurried to the tent he shared with Samuel and Blaine, and was relieved to see her slumbering there next to Samuel, looking decidedly peaceful and unbruised. Deciding that she must need the rest if she had slept past her usual time, he quietly crept back out of the tent and took care of his horse.

Taking advantage of being the only one awake, Garrett limbered up his muscles as he laid out the booty he'd brought with him, securing the documents on his person so that there would be no chance of losing them. The larger share of his spoils were going to go to Samuel, since it combined Samuel's share along with Garrett's. Fair payment, he thought, since it seemed that Bridget had taken no lasting harm the night before. 

"Ah you're back," said a voice behind him, and Garrett turned to see Blaine approaching. The other man grinned as he saw the small piles of jewels and gold that Garrett was sorting. "A worthy haul."

"The safe was full," he replied, keeping his tone casual. "How went last night?"

Laughing, Blaine told him of the night's events, the games, the rewards and the punishments. Garrett found that he had even more reason to be grateful to Samuel after hearing about the set-up Patrick had devised. If Bridget had lost the overall contest then Garrett would have had no real justification for retaliating against him, at least not in the eyes of Samuel and Blaine. And Garrett knew that he couldn't fight all three of them and win. 

Their conversation must have woken the others in the camp, because Patrick came out of his tent midway through Blaine's, smiling as if at fond memories, and Samuel and Bridget emerged at the end. She shot Garrett a look full of anger, which he didn't blame her for after he'd left her alone last night to deal with Patrick's ire. Despite the fact that she'd looked quite well in her slumber, it was obvious that she'd passed a rough evening. But she only gave him that one dark look and then removed her gaze from him, before he could make any move towards her, busying herself with her normal chore of preparing breakfast.

"Well," said Patrick after Blaine was done, looking at the piles. "This is quite a haul." The grin he gave Garrett said that he was pleased, but Garrett knew that wasn't going to last much longer. 

"Quite," said Garrett, hiding the tension that he was feeling. This wasn't quite how he planned to leave the group, but he found that he couldn't take another minute of Patrick's posturing and he certainly didn't want Bridget spending another minute in the man's presence. "I've decided that it's enough for me."

"Enough?" Patrick raised an eyebrow. 

Garrett nodded firmly. "Retiring. I'll be going home. And I'm taking the little maid with me."



Being the Maid Ch. 09



Later he would realize that a few hours of sleep under a tree, preceded and followed by a horse ride, was scarcely substitute for a full night's sleep. He would also realize that he had been more than physically tired. After all, it had been three years since he'd been allowed to live his own life, his real life. Three years since he'd seen his father or mother, or visited his half-brother's grave. By now he would have missed the marriage of his other young half-brother or seen him complete his growth from youth to man. Three years of playing robber for Patrick, of whom he was decidedly tired. And Bridget had only exacerbated the situation for he was tired of the other men's eyes on her, of knowing that last night they'd had unfettered access to her, so damned tired of worrying over her safety. He just wanted to get his girl and get out, as quickly as possible and his wits deserted him in favor of straight action - something he hadn't been able to indulge in the past three years, and he was tired of that too.

Or maybe it was also some long-suppressed half-baked notion of honor that made him speak out so. After all, he had spent the second half of his life learning to be a gentleman.

********

Silence greeted Garrett's pronouncement that he was not only leaving, but that he intended to take Bridget with him. For a moment it seemed as if the world had frozen in place. She felt like she couldn't breathe, as if there was an iron band tightening around her ribs. Not only had she been shocked to find him back in the camp so early in the morning, but now he wanted her with him? Now, after leaving without even looking at her? Her body still ached from yesterday's excesses, her muscles feeling stiff and sore.

And yet part of her exulted in knowing that he wanted her with him. Another part was cursing her for being ten kinds of stupid for rejoicing. It was entirely possible that he wanted her for nothing more than a convenient outlet for his pleasures. Although, that would certainly be preferable for her than her current situation even if the idea did make her heart ache. Not to mention that she did enjoy spending time with Garrett, no matter that she was still mostly furious with him.

All of these thoughts flitted through her head in the time it took Patrick to put his hands on his hips and throw his head back in wild laughter. The sound ripped through the air, everyone else standing silently and watching him. When he lowered his head back to face Garrett, Bridget's body chilled. While there was a smile on his face, there was no true humor in his eyes. The smile was a twisted, malicious thing, and strangely triumphant. The tension that had been growing between the two men seemed thing as a wire, shivering between them to the point of breaking. 

The expression on Garrett's face flickered, from almost confusion to a kind of resignation and then to determination. 

"Ahh... at last," Patrick said, his hand caressing the sword at his belt. Bridget could see Garrett's fingers twitch although he didn't reach for his own quite yet and she wanted to scream at him. "I was wondering when it would come to this." The wild grin on his face didn't seem entirely sane.

Out of the corner of her eye, Bridget saw Blaine shift, his own hand on the knife at his belt. Bile rose in the back of her throat - what on earth had Garrett been thinking? As if Patrick would just let them go because Garrett announced it! And Bridget was quickly realizing that she would much prefer to go with Garrett, ill treatment of her emotions or not. 

"Is there something wrong?" Garrett asked, his voice deceptively mild. The humming tension seemed to buzz in Bridget's ears and she held her breath, afraid to make the smallest sound. 

"You. You are all wrong."

The sound of metal unsheathing was fast and slick, and as the two men lunged at each other she saw Blaine pulling his knife from his belt. But who would he attack? Steel clanged as Garrett and Patrick circled around each other, swords flashing in the sunlight, their movements were graceful and confident - almost beautiful if it wasn't so deadly. As Garrett moved so that his back was to Blaine, she saw the boyish looking man shift his stance and set his arm back as if preparing to throw.

Holding in her shriek of fear, smart enough not to distract the combatants, Bridget flung herself at him before he could swing his arm forward. She crashed into him and they went tumbling, his arm snapping forward and releasing the knife. Shouts sounded to the right of her but she couldn't see where she had hit, suddenly she was scrabbling in the dirt, trying to get away from the snarling Blaine as his fingers clamped like a vise around her arm, hard enough to bruise. Now she screamed, a battle cry, as she tried to claw at his eyes with her free hand. 

A muscular arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her away, tearing her arm from Blaine's grasp with a painful twist that had her shrieking again as she kicked out at whoever was holding her.

"Be still," she heard Samuel snarl as he tossed her away like she was nothing but baggage. Landing heavily on the ground she felt the wind knocked from her as she struggled for air and sound footing. 

Pushing herself up to her hands and knees she blinked in astonishment, she saw that Samuel and Blaine were now fighting, with nothing more than their bare hands. Garrett and Patrick were still slashing at each other, although Garrett was now bleeding from a long cut on his arm and Patrick seemed to be favoring his right leg. The Princess had completely disappeared - escaped again or hiding in her tent?

Escape...

Good grief, could she find a better time? Surely whichever men won would hunt down the women - or would they decide they didn't care? As much as she wanted to tell herself that Garrett couldn't care less what women he shared his bed with, some instinctive part of her knew that she was lying to herself. He wouldn't have done something so foolish as announced his intention to take her with him if he didn't care. But would he hunt her down or let her go? Or what if Garrett wasn't one of the winners of this brawl?

Looking over at the fire where she had started preparing breakfast, Bridget made her decision. She crawled, ignoring the sounds and grunts of the men fighting around her, doing her best not to draw their attention as she made her way to the food. Grabbing the knife that she used on vegetables - it wasn't dull but it wasn't sharp - Bridget turned her attention back to the men. Samuel and Blaine still seemed evenly matched, both bloodied and bruised but whaling on each other with every evidence that they would keep going... but Garrett was moving slower. Already he had more cuts on his arms and she wondered again at how fast he'd managed to return to the camp - obviously he hadn't gotten enough rest the night before. 

Clutching the knife tightly in her grip, she had already begun moving towards him and Patrick and gotten within ten feet of them when they turned again and Garrett stumbled over a rock on the ground, losing his footing and falling backwards, his sword flying out of his grip. Bridget gasped and Patrick whirled around as she rushed forward, releasing his sword with one hand and catching her around the waist. 

Wild laughter spilled from his mouth as he pulled her to him, triumph in every line of his body. She felt herself pressed against him as he aimed the sword at Garrett's unprotected stomach and nausea churned inside of her. Gripping the knife in her hand hard, she shoved it into Patrick's body, aiming to push the blade between his ribs and into his heart, and he grunted, his arm tightening around her. 

When their eyes met his were filled with all the fury of hell. 

"Damn you..." he rasped, his weight pushing down on her as sticky liquid covered her hands and skirt. Bridget sobbed in fear, trying to push him away as he fell atop her, bearing her down to the ground. She could actually feel the life shuddering out of him as he lay atop of her. 

Suddenly the dead weight was pushed off of her and Garrett was holding her. She sobbed into his shoulder, not caring that she was angry at him, not caring that he winced as she inadvertently gripped a wound on his arm. In fact, she was nearing hysterics, despite the soothing words he was murmuring in her ear. Never before had she done anything like that. She'd seen dead men and women of course, and animals, but had never felt someone actually die literally on top of her, where she had been able to feel every ragged breath as the life ebbed from his body.

Garrett got her bent over just in time as her stomach roiled and she vomited. 

*******

Rubbing Bridget's back, Garrett kept a wary eye on Samuel and Blaine. Although he and Samuel had come to an agreement before Garrett had left last night, he wasn't sure how Samuel would feel about Patrick's death. After all, Samuel had worked on and off for the man years longer than he'd been working for Garrett's father. Which loyalty would win out? 

It looked like he'd beaten Blaine into either unconsciousness or death, and at this point Garrett was too wrung out to care which. Except that death would probably be better, because Blaine had been completely loyal to Patrick. Some kind of family connection. Killing a man in cold blood was not one of Garrett's favorite past times, but in the case of Blaine it might be necessary if he still lived. So far no movement, but he was too far away to see if Blaine was breathing. Sometimes, like now, Garrett cursed the life that he'd chosen. Although it made him indispensable to his father and was a great service to England, he could feel lit slowly robbing him of many of the virtues his father had sought to instill in him - honor, chivalry, generosity, humanity.  

But in his line of work, being cold and unfeeling led to better results than allowing oneself the luxury of real emotions. Indifference was a shield against regret, rage, and guilt. For three years he'd lived doing whatever he needed to in order to get the job done, because the means were necessary for the end. 

And then the woman who was trembling against him came along and he found himself feeling again. Just look to what that had led to - a return to 'honor' which involved facing Patrick, getting himself wounded, risking her life, and Samuel and Blaine's involvement. Not to mention the blood of another man, possibly two, on his hands. Men that he had eaten with, rode with, and fought with; whether or not they were bandits, there had been a connection between them. Perhaps Bridget was also his savior then, for by the time she came along he'd truly started to sink down to their standards and morals, becoming so numb inside that it had taken a bright and shining spirit like hers to bring him back out again. 

Turning, she clutched at his tunic and burst into tears on his shoulder. He winced, feeling the ache in his arms from the shallow cuts that he'd had to take in order to prevent worst injury, but put his arms around her anyway and let her cry it out. Across the clearing Samuel was inspecting the pile of loot that Garrett had brought back and the Princess was peering out of the tent, now that the noises of fighting had gone away. Seeing her he let out an internal sigh. Another problem to deal with, and he really wasn't sure how to go about getting her back where she was supposed to be. 

"Shhh, sweetheart, everything's fine, you did wonderfully," he murmured into Bridget's ear as he stroked her back soothingly. He continued to murmur soft words of encouragement in her ear, feeling quite sure that she wasn't truly listening but that his tone and general support would get through to her. Really she'd done wonderfully, some men didn't have the presence of mind that she had. It was just another reason he admired her, and... dared he even think it? Loved her. In his life he'd been with many women, some for pleasure, some to cement his identity with the bandit gang, but never before had any wormed their way into his heart quite like Bridget had. She made him ashamed of the part that he'd played with Patrick and the other men and she also made him want to be a better man.

It might be time to quit his job. Or ask for reassignment. He thought of the papers tucked away inside of his tunic. Once he handed those over, he would be done with this assignment, so it was an ideal time to make a change. 

"Are we staying or leaving?" asked Samuel, his voice careless. 

"Leaving," said Garrett, glancing at Blaine's still body. "Is he dead?"

"Still breathing but he'll be out for a while."

"Then we'll leave him with some loot and food, if he wakes he can use it. We won't miss it." Blaine was a terrible tracker so Garrett had no worries that he might be able to find them once they left, especially if they got enough of a head start. Particularly since he was injured.

Samuel shrugged. "I might miss the loot."

"I'll pay you enough to make up the difference," said Garrett. "And my father will probably give you a bonus for saving my life."

The cruel blonde man grinned. "Why else do you think I did it?"

They looked at each other and Garrett smiled. At one point in his life he might have looked down on Samuel's ethics, but he'd lived too long with the same ones to truly judge him. The man was mercenary through and through, but it seemed that he had his own sense of honor - once bought, he stayed bought. And right now, Garrett's father had done the buying. 

Looking down he became aware that Bridget had worked her way out of her sobs and was starting to pay attention to their conversation. "Pack up whatever you want to take with you," he told her. "We're leaving within the hour."

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"England."

********* By the time they made camp that night, Bridget was starting to feel slightly more human again. Garrett sat her down by the fire which he hastily made, across from the Princess, and he and Samuel made the camp ready. She shivered convulsively, unable to think of anything but the feel of Patrick's body against hers, shuddering and weakening. A blanket draped over her back and arms and she looked up to see Garrett frowning down at her. 

"Here," he said, handing her a flask. "Drink this."

In a bit of a daze, Bridget brought the flask to her mouth and swallowed the liquid. It burned, surprising her, and she coughed and sputtered. Garrett's dark eyes crinkled as if he wanted to laugh at her and she glared at him before taking another swallow of the alcohol. Although it had been unexpected, this was not the first time that she'd tasted spirits and she welcomed the warmth in her belly, the heat that spread through her limbs, and especially the dampening of her overwhelming emotions. 

After she'd taken four long pulls on the flask, Garrett took it away from her. "That's enough," he said gently. "You can have more after you've eaten something."

She felt a small spurt of anger that he was still ordering her around, but the alcohol was already doing its work through her system, she felt too good to truly be angry. Instead she just watched him move about the fire, cooking and speaking in occasional mutters with Samuel. Once dinner was ready, Garrett brought her some food and she ate, although she insisted that he hand over the flask so that she could take a few more swallows from it. 

"Don't make yourself sick," he cautioned, watching her with worried eyes. 

"Don't tell me what to do," Bridget muttered and was surprised to see a small smile curve his lips. They were such nice lips really, so soft and... talented. Bridget licked her own lips as she stared at Garrett's mouth. Did he know what an incredibly handsome man he was?

The liquor was moving through her veins, making everything seem almost hazy, dream-like, and she found herself enjoying Garrett's warmth beside her. It was so easy, under the influence of the warm fuzziness in her body, to forget that she was angry with him and so she leaned into his side, sighing happily as he curved his arm around her and pulled her closer.

"Come on Princess," she heard Samuel say, his voice cruel and eager. Blinking muzzily she stared across the fire, where the two people-shapes seemed to blur and multiply as they moved towards the tent. They were going to have sex.

Heat spread from her belly down to her core, kindling sweet need between her legs as Garrett's fingers stroked her side. 

*****

Watching Samuel take the Princess off to the tent, he wondered if he should try to stop them... but that would just lead to another fight and he was pretty sure it was a fight he would lose. Besides, in many ways Samuel would be easier on the Princess than Patrick had been, and Garrett had already seen for himself that the Princess like roughness and pain with her pleasure. It eased his conscience somewhat, a conscience that hadn't bothered him in far too long before the woman beside him had come into his life. 

Even now, obviously drunk, he found her incredibly admirable. She'd ridden all day without complaint and had even had the fortitude and spirit to stand up to him when he'd given her his flask. After the shock of killing a man - he was quite sure that it was her first - he figured that she'd need as little anesthetic to help her get to sleep. Although he hadn't expected her to drink perhaps quite so much, but he didn't want to deny it to her if she needed it. Not after today.

Stroking her side softly, he wondered how on earth he was going to explain himself to her, what excuse he could make to her that she would find reasonable, justifiable, for the way that she had been treated. Even rescuing her from the situation didn't seem like quite enough. And he was sure that it would be enough to convince her to go with him. But he wanted her to. He'd never met another woman like her, and already knowing her had turned him into a better man - or at least started him back on the road towards the good man that he'd used to be.

Somehow all his priorities had changed over the time that he'd come to know her, from the desire to serve his father, king and country, to wanting to settle down on his own piece of land, to take advantage of the promise his father had made him. Of course, he'd meant to take that land eventually anyway, but he'd thought he'd had a few more years left in his current business. At least one or two more assignments, although none of them would have been quite as personal as this one. 

"Garrett," murmured the beauty at his side, breaking through his thoughts, and he looked down into her big doe-eyes, glimmering in the campfire light. "Kiss me."

She was definitely drunk... but what could it hurt? And her berry-ripe lips were far too irresistible as she flicked her little pink tongue out at him. Besides, he took it as a good sign that she still wanted his kiss. 

Lowering his head he met her lips gently, intending to give her a brief kiss, but her hands came up to his neck and pulled him against her hard, her tongue thrusting into his mouth in the most wanton manner and Garrett groaned as his body responded. She kissed him with an intensity and fervor that she had never displayed before, taking control of his mouth and sucking his tongue into hers. It was a passionate, heady kiss, and it took every ounce of willpower he possessed to break it off, his cock rock hard and pressing against the inside of his breeches.

But Bridget was drunk. More than drunk, she'd killed a man today and he'd died practically on top of her. That kind of adrenaline and near death experience was often followed by a need for love making, Garrett was feeling it himself, but he didn't want her like this. Tomorrow she would wake... and what if she regretted their joining? He didn't want her filled with regret or shame when he asked her to come with him, because then of course she would say no. So he pulled away, leaving her panting and breathless and himself aching with need for her. 




Being the Maid Ch. 09



"Come on little maid," he said brusquely, standing quickly. "Time for bed."

The slow seductive smile that she gave him as she wobbled to her feet didn't leave him any doubt that she was done trying to get what her body was craving in its inebriated and confused state, but he hoped that once he got her to the tent she would lie down and fall asleep. Ushering her to the tent not being used by Samuel and the Princess, doing his best to ignore the moans and squeals coming from the other tent, Garrett ducked in behind her just as she began taking off her clothes.

*******

"Bridget, stop, lie down sweetheart," Garrett said, gripping her wrist.

Irritated, Bridget pulled away from him. She wanted her clothes off. "Too hot."

With a sigh Garrett helped her disrobe as she giggled dizzily, her head swirling. Her cunt was damp with arousal, her body pulsing now that he was so close and she was naked, her nipples hard and ready for his mouth and fingers. Stumbling forward, she pressed her naked body against his, wanting to feel the heat and warmth of him, the life and vitality. It helped to press away the memory of Patrick's dying flesh, replacing it with living man. Pressing her lips to his, she tried to thrust her tongue into his mouth, wanting him to blot out the memories, but he pulled away and Bridget made an aggravated noise. 

"Sweetheart, lie down, you don't want to do this."

"Don't tell me what I do and don't want," she said, anger flashing in her eyes. She went for him again and as he tried to pull away they got tangled up in each other. Garrett twisted as they fell, arranging it so that Bridget landed on top of him, knocking his breath out a bit as she giggled and wriggled around, rubbing her body against his. "Ooooo... you can't pretend you don't want this." Rubbing her mound against the large bulge at the front of his breeches, Bridget pressed her lips to his again. She could feel the shuddering sigh that went through him as they kissed. Being on top gave her a sense of power, even more so than the last time she'd been on top of him because she could feel his resistance and the way it wavered as she squirmed and kissed. 

Heat and need shivered up her spine as she felt him trying to lift her off of him. Angry, she allowed him to push her upwards, and then she shimmied up his body, pressing her shins down over his biceps so that he was trapped. Of course she knew that he could push her off if he really wanted to, but she was going to do her best not to let him. With her cunt splayed open over his face, Bridget reached down and grabbed his hair, pushing his mouth into her wetness. 

"Lick me," she whispered. Garrett's arms could bend enough to grasp her thighs, pulling them farther apart as he began to lick her, having decided that it would be easier to appease her, give her an orgasm and then let her fall asleep. 

Bridget moaned as she began to ride his face, his mouth suckling at her nether lips and drinking in the sweet honey that had gathered there. She felt wanton and powerful, this strong man trapped between her thighs, beneath her body, pleasuring her with his lips and tongue, nibbling at her with his teeth. Excitement surged through her as she kept one hand on his hair, the other coming up to pinch and toy with her nipples as he laved at her sensitive flesh. His tongue thrust up inside of her and she moaned, the grip on his hair tightening. 

Was this how the men felt when they had her on her knees and were pushing their cocks into her mouth? Now she could almost understand the appeal and she began to ride Garrett's face harder, liking the idea that she was forcing him to pleasure her, turning the tables on him when he'd so obviously been reluctant. Now she was in charge and he was doing her bidding! 

"Ooooooh yeeeeeeeeeees," she cried out as he began to lick and suck at her little pearl, pulling the sensitive nubbin with his teeth and suckling it between his lips. She could feel her climax gathering, like storm clouds at the center of her being, lightning sparks flashing through her core as Garrett masterfully pleasured her. Her thighs trembled with the effort of holding herself above him until she couldn't take it anymore and she leaned forward, weight on her knees and one hand, the other still gripping his hair tightly as she forced his mouth against her. "OH Garrett.... oh.... I can't.... oh GARRETT!!" 

The sucking sensation on her clit increased as her pussy spasmed, her body rocking on his face as pleasure shuddered through her. He was relentless, lavishing his oral attentions on her as she climaxed, furthering her ecstasy as she moaned and gyrated on his face. 

Finally Bridget pulled away, her pussy feeling only partly satisfied, and she realized that she wouldn't be completely satisfied until her cunt was convulsing around hard meat, rather than quivering around emptiness. Scooting down Garrett's body, she attacked the front of his breeches, almost before he knew what she was doing, freeing his hard cock from the tight confines of his pants. 

"Bridget, no, stop," he reached for her and Bridget grabbed his hands, twining her fingers through his and pushing his hands down on either side of his head. With her knees on the ground, straddling his groin, she brought her feet up so that they were resting on his thighs, pressing down so that her entire weight was on top of him. Perhaps if he hadn't been wounded and surprised, it wouldn't have been as effective, but she managed to pin him beneath her as she rubbed the head of his cock over her sopping folds. 

"Don't worry Garrett, I'll make you feel good," she crooned, echoing some of his own words that he'd used with her. The thrill she got from holding him down, from knowing that for whatever reason he didn't want to have sex right now and she was going to make him, was shocking to her, even in her inebriated state. But she was too excited to stop. 

"Not like this," he said, pressing his hands upwards, but Bridget sat down, taking the entire length of his thick shaft into her body with one hard stroke and he spasmed beneath her, giving her the chance to press his hands down again. 

"Yes, just like this." Bridget moaned as his cock flexed inside of her and then she rose upwards until just the tip of his head was inside of her, rocking back and forth with slight movements so that it popped in and out of her hole as Garrett groaned beneath her, his hips trying to surge upwards only to find himself shockingly stopped by the weight of her feet pressing down on them. Wounded from the earlier fight, exhausted from the night before and the activities of the day, and willpower quickly being drained by Bridget's teasing and her snug wetness, Garrett found himself unable to stop her from taking what she wanted as she slammed her body back down on top of his, grinding her groin into his pelvis. 

Bridget began riding him, using him like her own personal toy as she bounced up and down on top of him, swirling her hips and rubbing her clit against the base of his cock. She would rise up and tease his head often as he moaned beneath her, trying to thrust upwards, glorying in her domination over him, before slamming herself back down again and reliving the joy of his thick penetration filling her cunt. Throwing her head back, Bridget rocked on top of him, squeezing his meat with her inner muscles and taking her time as she slowly built her climax, loving the feel of him inside of her and the way he'd succumbed to her drunken fucking, his desire for her overpowering his reluctance. 

Truthfully she didn't understand why he was reluctant, but she now understood how erotic it was to coax his body into enjoyment and desire anyway, to feel him go from trying to resist her to trying to pump his cock into her body. His movements beneath her were becoming stronger, making it harder for her to pin him down, but with her legs situated the way they were, all he could do was lift her body up, he couldn't thrust his cock into her, and so she could tease him to her heart's content before taking him fully inside of her again. Every long thrust was bliss, spearing upwards into her grasping channel, filling her so deliciously in exactly the way her body craved.

The warmth of the liquor in her blood made her core feel even more wet, fueling her sensual abandon. She moaned and bounced, wiggled and gasped as she used his cock like a fuck toy, ignoring his own pleas and whimpers as she sensually tormented them both. His cock twitched inside of her, but every time she could feel him beginning to tense beneath her, she would slow her movements, going back to tease his head to keep him from coming. Sometimes she leaned down to take his tiny nipples in her mouth and suck and tug on them with his teeth, making him jerk beneath her. When they kissed he assaulted her mouth as if he could drink in her essence, taking what little control that he could over their passionate kisses. 

It was an entirely new experience for Bridget and she gloried in raping him, taking from him the pleasure that she craved, feeding the hot need between her legs with his reluctant body. 

"Oh fuck... Bridget... please..." he begged as she teased his head again, rubbing it around her slick opening. They'd been fucking for so long that his entire shaft glistened with lubrication, her wet juices matting the hair around its base, and her clit felt like it was twice its usual size. 

Hearing him beg sent a jolt of lightning straight through to that sensitive nub and she slammed down on him again, knowing that it was for the last time. The thick knob of his cock rubbed over her g-sport, sinking deep inside of her like a bar of steel as she began to ride him in earnest. Her fast, rough movements were such a change from the teasing, languid pace that she'd been keeping that Garrett heaved beneath her immediately, his cock twitching inside of her. 

"Garrett... ohhhh yes... oh that's so goooood..." Bridget's back arched as he pulsed against her walls, his cock somehow growing thicker, longer, harder, as cum began to boil out of his balls and shove its way up his shaft and into her body. She screamed her elation as she convulsed, the hot fluid of his cum filling her quivering chasm as ecstasy flared from her needy center and flowed throughout her entire body. Bridget's clit was trapped between her body and his pubic bone, the little nubbin pinched and rubbed as she came, her hips rotating back and forth on top of him. 

"FUCK... BRIDGET...." Garrett bellowed as his long awaited climax surged and filled her, his cock bursting inside of her like a geyser, spewing forth hot liquid. He bucked beneath her, groaning with pleasure as they moved with mutual culmination, their bodies feeding off of each other. Bridget's movements continued long after Garrett was spent, his cock still half hard in her grasping tunnel as she wrung him dry, her overstimulated nerves causing her to jerk and flop on top of him until she finally collapsed, her soft breasts pillowed against his chest.

She murmured sleepily as he stroked her hair, the deep rumbling in his chest indicating that he was speaking to her although she couldn't understand any of the words. Drunk and sated, Bridget snuggled into him and slept.

*********

The next morning Garrett awoke at his usual time feeling completely refreshed mentally, although sore and aching from his wounds. The soft bundle of woman in his arms sighed and squirmed closer to his warmth and he held her tight, relishing the feel of her in his arms. Once she woke up she might not be so pleased to see him. It was a little unnerving how easily she'd over taken his intentions last night, using him for her pleasure. And he'd enjoyed every moment of it, even if he was unsure that it had been the best idea. She was a right handful when she wanted to be and he sincerely hoped that she'd agree to come with him, that she wouldn't wake up feeling angry over her drunken antics. Because she hadn't been quite in her right mind last night and he'd known that even if she hadn't at the time. It should have been his responsibility to make sure that she didn't do anything she'd regret later. 

Sighing, Garrett reluctantly pulled himself away from her clinging arms and tucked her in, heading outside to make breakfast and put something together to help with the morning-after head she was sure to have, considering how much liquor she'd put away last night. 

By the time the food was almost ready, Samuel had joined him and the two men began to negotiate for what was going to come next.

*******

Voices outside woke the Princess and she moaned as she came awake. Mostly out of frustration. That bastard Samuel had none of Patrick's finesse. Not that she'd been entirely sorry to see the former bandit leader die, in fact she'd snickered to see him brought down by a lowly maid, but he'd certainly known his way around a woman's body and the pain and pleasure that she craved. Samuel wanted something entirely different. While Eleanor wanted to be tied down, tormented and whipped, Samuel wanted her to struggle, he wanted to be rough and he didn't want to take his time about it.

Of course, Eleanor enjoyed the roughness, but what was the point of struggling if he wasn't really hurting her? Being held down had its own appeal, although it wasn't nearly as satisfying as the ropes that Patrick had tied her with. And Samuel hadn't been entirely delighted by her performance either, she remembered sourly. It wasn't until he began to force his cock into her ass that she'd truly begun to struggle. 

She liked pain and domination, not degradation, and she hated the shameful dirtiness of having a cock in her asshole. Patrick had quickly come to that realization and used it for punishment; Samuel had delighted in degrading her, holding her down over a mound of pillows, her flailing limbs not helping her at all as he thrust at her from behind, ravaging that tiny hole. It had burned and cramped, he was much rougher on that back entryway than Patrick had ever been, forcing his cock in to its full length almost immediately and then pounding her with long, hard strokes that jammed his meat into her bowels. While she'd liked the pain, she'd hated where it was come from. 

Even worse was when she'd climaxed, her abused hole tightening around his thick meat as the pain sent her swirling into ecstasy, her humiliation at his hands complete. 

And on top of everything, she wasn't even sure who was the leader now! Was it him or Garrett? She couldn't stand the thought that she might be given over for pleasure to an underling. Too quick pleasure at that; her body had only been somewhat satisfied by Samuel's rough anal rape. She needed a man to take time with her, strap her, hurt her until he finally spent himself in her for her to achieve the culmination that she truly needed. Garrett was certainly the man to do that, she knew from the sounds she'd heard when he'd taken his pleasure with her slut of a maid that he always took his time with a woman, she was sure that he could give her what she needed. Plus, she suspected that once they had time to work things out, Garrett would take charge of Samuel. 

Her lips curved into a smile. Of course that would mean that she would finally become Garrett's woman and find out exactly what he had been doing to that little whore that made her moan so. Why would any leader, even of a two man bandit group, choose to pleasure himself with anything but the best? With her royal bloodlines and beauty, there was no doubt which of the two women was the more desirable. 

Artfully arranging her dress so that a goodly expanse of bosom showed, the Princess went outside to see the men. 

"Are you sure, my Lord?" Samuel asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Don't call me that," Garrett snapped, lowering his voice and muttering something else that she couldn't quite hear.

Movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention and she could see the little maid looking at the two men in shock. Apparently she had heard as well. Satisfaction ran through Princess Eleanor. No wonder she'd been so interested in Garrett this whole time! He had some kind of noble blood. What was he doing with these ruffians? she wondered. Perhaps he was the black sheep of a family or some such. Or even a spy! How exciting. And satisfying, since she would no longer need to demean herself by finding her pleasure with base men, surely Garrett would pleasure her even more thoroughly than Patrick had. 

Princess Eleanor glided forward to accept her breakfast, making sure to dip down low enough that Garrett could see into her gaping top, all the way down her creamy breast to her pink nipple. 

*******

Garrett handed the Princess her food, watching Bridget from the corner of his eye. From the pale, shocked look on her face after she'd excited the tent, he had to assume that she'd heard Samuel's mocking honorific. Damn the man. He might be one of Garrett's father's more valued resources, but sometimes he was just a pain in the ass. Now Garrett would have to talk to Bridget and explain things sooner than he'd meant to. He'd wanted to give her more time to get used to him now that Patrick was gone and he could be himself, let her get to know who he was as a man, let her see the man he wanted to be for her, before he told her about his family.

Taking a deep breath he stood, holding Bridget's breakfast in one hand, and walked towards his quarry. The pursed lips and glinting eyes belied her pale cheeks - she was not only shocked, she seemed angry. Because of last night? Because of what Samuel had said? Or was it pain and not anger that tightened her lips? Cursing the timing, Garrett handed her the bowl of food. 

"Might we walk? I'd like to talk to you," he said in a low voice.

***********

Author's Note: There will be one more chapter in this series... I've enjoyed writing it immensely and I hope you have all enjoyed reading it! The last chapter is probably going to be very long but I will complete it as soon as I can. Thanks for reading!  



Being the Maid Ch. 10



When I first started writing this series, I warned that there would be some romance in it. This is where all of that comes to a head. I've thoroughly enjoyed writing the story of the maid given over to the bandits rather than the lady or Princess captured and taken by the bandit leader. I hope you've enjoyed reading it! 

Bridget stared up into Garrett's eyes, feeling unsure of whether or not she wanted to go with him. As soon as she'd woken up this morning, memories of the night before had started pouring in. Her wanton behavior, the way she'd pleasured herself with his body, the excitement she'd felt as overcoming him. Shame suffused her and looking at him just seemed to make it worse; he was the only one who knew that she was a shameless hussy deep down, that the liquor had overcome her inhibitions and she'd become just as greedily pleasure-seeking as any man. 

Trying to reconcile that with how she'd always thought of herself was difficult. Even more so was hearing Samuel called Garrett "my Lord." What had he meant by that? And why did Garrett want to talk now?

The man in front of her had confused her emotions horribly when he'd left without a second glance. Then his announcement when he'd returned that he was leaving and he wanted to take her with him had confused her even more. On top of that was her own reaction yesterday to seeing him being put in danger by Patrick and then her shameless behavior last night. 

"Yes," she finally answered him, hugging her arms to her waist as though she could keep all of her turmoiled emotions from escaping. "We can talk."

He took her elbow in his hand, gently but firmly, and steered her away from the campfire. Was it her imagination or could she feel the other two staring curious daggers into her back? They walked off far enough that it seemed like they were the only two people in the world, to where there was a fallen tree. Garrett sat her down on the tree and began to pace back and forth in front of her, not looking at her. She wanted to break the tense silence but she had no idea what to say to him. 

"I'm sorry I had to leave you the other day," he said finally, making her jump and stare at him. Whatever she had expected, an apology wasn't the first thing! "I didn't want to, but I didn't have a choice."

"Because of Patrick?" she asked, somewhat bewildered, considering that Garrett hadn't been at all adverse about confronting the leader yesterday. 

He laughed, but it was a harsh sound, without any real humor in it. "No. Because... argh. This is harder than I thought." Rubbing his hands through his dark hair, he looked at her, his expression so confused that she almost felt like reaching out and comforting him, but she stopped herself. Instincts like that could get her into trouble. "I said we were going to England. That's my home. My father... I work for the government. Sort of. Unofficially. I go into other countries and gather information... sometimes other things."

"You're a spy?" she asked, incredulously. What was a spy doing with a bunch of bandits? A spy and possibly an assassin. She hadn't missed the way his voice had darkened when he'd referenced 'other things.' A trickle of fear ran through her as she realized that this was information that she probably shouldn't have, that he would and could kill her for if he deemed it necessary. 

"Yes. Some of the time. I'm whatever they need me to be." His voice was quiet, reflective.

"Are you really a Lord?"

"No. Not really." He sighed. "My father is a Duke, but I was born on the wrong side of the sheets. He would have acknowledged me, but since he is in charge of gathering information for the King, I ended up doing something much more useful than providing him with another extraneous son. I have three legitimate brothers - had three. Now I have two." His eyes darkened in sorrow and Bridget felt her heart ache for him a little at the obvious grief and anger on his face, even though she was still feeling frightened for herself. "About three and a half years ago my brother Arden was murdered on a diplomatic mission to France. We suspected that his death was not at the hands of the French alone but was also done as a message to my father about some of the advice that he was giving the king. Someone on our side must have colluded with the French to make Arden's death possible. So my father sent me here."

Garrett began pacing again, silent and filled with nervous energy. Despite the fact that he was spilling more information, Bridget felt her fear waning. It certainly didn't seem like this was information he didn't want her to know. 

"Why bandits?" she asked, partly because she was curious and partly because she couldn't stand the silence. 

"Samuel's one of my father's agents," he said, half-smiling at her aghast look. "He's been in our employ for years and he has a knack for picking up the most incredible amount of information. Besides, bandits move fast and often and no one is going to think of a bandit as being a spy. Or the son of a Duke posing as a bandit, bastard or not. I've been traveling with him and the others for about three years now, collecting information on who was part of the conspiracy that assassinated Arden on both the French and English side. The nobleman's house that we robbed these past two days was the leader on the French side and I needed documents that he supposedly had, Samuel heard about them... well... somewhere."

"Did he have them?" Almost against her will, Bridget found herself completely enthralled by this tale of intrigue. Although she'd sometimes suspected that there was more to Garrett than met the eye, she certainly hadn't suspected anything like this. 

"He did." The look of triumph on his face was both gleeful and vengeful, a terrifying expression that would have had her running if it had been directed at her. His fists clenched and unclenched by his side as if he was already thinking about how he would repay those who had killed his brother. "He had more than we'd hoped for. Not just the names of all those involved, but letters in their own writing, information about other plots, and a detailed accounting of all the information, money and incidentals that some of our supposedly loyal English nobles provided to the French over the past years."

"He kept that all in one place?" Bridget was aghast at the stupidity of the man. Garrett laughed, this time with real amusement behind it. 

"Ah, pride goeth before a fall. He thought no one knew who he was or would think to look at his most out of the way house, that he had the perfect hiding place, and that no one would ever be able to break into it. And he was wrong on all counts." Grinning, Garrett looked almost like a young man who had just been given his first accolade. "Now I just need to get back to England before he arrives at his manor house and sends out messengers to warn his compatriots. I want them to face the King's justice, not flee with their hides intact." Now his face darkened again, becoming implacable. Bridget shivered and her movement caught his attention. Immediately his expression softened and he walked towards her, uncertainty creeping back into his eyes. "I'd like you to come with me. I'm... I'm not sure what you might think of me considering... I did what I had to do to bring Arden's murderers to justice. I don't have a better excuse than that. I had to fit in with the other men. But... I do care about you." He took a breath, watching her expression which she felt had frozen onto her face. "Deeply. I would like you to come home with me and... and make it your home. Allow me to court you."

The wind seemed to be knocked out of her.

"Are you still going to be a spy?" It was the most innocuous question she could ask under the circumstances. And she wasn't ready to answer him in any way. It seemed that in a matter of minutes her entire world had been turned upside down and she could barely think.

"Not if you were to come with me. It's about time I resigned anyway. I'd like to settle on an estate that my father has settled on me. It's not huge but it's large enough to support me and my family."

The way he was looking at her was so earnest and honest, it completely disarmed her. And so hopeful. But her tongue seemed stuck to the roof of her mouth. After all, how could she forgive him for all the indignities she'd suffered? Not just at the hands of the others, but his as well. He'd been the one to capture her in the first place! And now he wanted her to come home with him, as his wife? Or at least to court... 

Her head pounded as if resolving into a terrible headache.

"I can't think," she said finally, rubbing at her temples. Tears had sprung into her eyes and she wasn't entirely sure why.

Immediately Garrett was beside her, taking her hands in his and replacing her fingers with his own. Closing her eyes she allowed him to massage her head, hating the way it felt so comforting. "You don't need to answer me now. I just wanted to tell you. And ask you to think about it. I've never met another woman who was so strong, who has spirit like yours. I admire everything about you, Bridget."

"Were there other women? In my situation?" She kept her eyes closed not wanting to see his face, but she could feel his hesitation.

"Yes."

"What happened to them?"

"I helped them escape. Patrick had started to suspect, which is why he kept such a close eye on you and Eleanor. They both spent several days with us, because it was easier to help them get away when we were close to a city or town where someone could hide them. I... will admit that it has grown harder for me in the past few years to be a good man. But you make me want to be one." His voice dropped almost to a whisper. "You're so good, so pure of heart. Even in captivity you view the world with enjoyment and eager eyes, finding the best in every situation. It makes me want to be near you, to protect you." Misery crept into his tone. "I did the best I could. I know it wasn't enough, but I hope that one day you'll find it in your heart to forgive me."

Part of her wanted to forgive him right now, after hearing those beautiful words, but she didn't. Instead she opened her eyes and gently removed his hands. "I'll think about it."

Nodding his head, as if he knew that was all he could expect from her, Garrett looked up through the trees at the sun. "We should get back to camp. I don't want to leave the Princess alone with Samuel for too long."

"What, you mean he's not a hero in disguise either?" Her voice was slightly bitter, which made him give her a sharp look but he didn't say anything about it.

"No, he's exactly the way he acts unfortunately. But he's a good agent."

Pursing her lips, not wanting to say anything more on the subject, Bridget followed him in silence.

********

Garrett resolved to leave Bridget alone for the rest of the day to give her time to think about what he'd said. It wasn't easy though, because he found that he was terrified she wouldn't be interested in coming with him and being afraid didn't sit so well with him. Then again, perhaps it was a kind of retribution for the fear she'd probably felt during the time she'd spent with the bandits.

She sat on a log near the fire, staring out into space and he hoped that she was seriously considering his proposal. While he might not be the man he used to be, if she was willing to come home with him he'd make it his life's goal to return to the honorable, moral man that he'd been ten years ago, and to making her happy. He regretted that his mother had passed away; she would have liked Bridget. Although if his mother hadn't passed away then his father would have never found out about him and he wouldn't have the job he did now and wouldn't have met Bridget. 

Keeping a careful eye on her as she walked down to the river, even though he doubted she'd try to escape right now since she had nowhere to go to, he discussed plans with Samuel. Somehow they needed to get the Princess back towards some kind of civilization and he wanted to know if Samuel would stay with them long enough to do that. On the other hand, if he did, Samuel would want access to the women. Last night Garrett had been willing to ignore that, today, with his new found resolve to become a man deserving of Bridget, he knew he couldn't let that situation continue. 

Fortunately Samuel had simple needs. Money, women and alcohol. Give him a bit more money, which Garrett didn't need anyway although it would help with traveling back home in comfort, and he found that adequate compensation for the lack of a woman for the night. Although he wasn't willing to stay on longer if there were two women around that he couldn't have

"I'll stay with you till we reach town tomorrow," Samuel said. "Then I'll be on my way."

"I mean to send the Princess into town, if there are any soldiers there, to take her back where she belongs," warned Garrett. "I'll wait until just before suppertime, but you'll want to have left by then."

Sighing, Samuel nodded, scratching his chin. "She's not nearly as much fun as your little maid anyway."

Garrett bristled a little, but he didn't take offense. After all, he was getting what he wanted and he definitely didn't want to start an unnecessary fight with Samuel. It didn't matter what Samuel said anymore, he'd promised to keep his hands off Bridget and that was that. Tomorrow he wouldn't have to deal with the other man any longer either. He just hoped that Bridget would be willing to at least keep traveling with him after tomorrow. Although he would give her the option of going to the town with the Princess. It would be up to her.

******

Things had gotten boring, Eleanor noted sourly. Her body had become accustomed to pleasure and pain and she was craving it now. Needing it. Especially since there was nothing else to do. Her whore of a maid had wandered down to the river they'd camped near and was just barely visible through the trees. Garrett kept looking down there as if he make sure that she was still there. But the slut hadn't had the courage to try an escape in the first place, not like Eleanor, so why would she now? She obviously liked everything that had been done to her. Maybe he was worried that if she disappeared then he'd have to share Eleanor with Samuel. 

Smiling, she smugly thought about how Samuel had left her alone all day today. It was obviously Garrett's turn with her. And maybe she could convince him to do away with Samuel and the maid and just keep her. He was some kind of nobility, after all. Samuel's voice had only been half in jest when he had called Garrett that. Perhaps if Garrett was pleasurable enough then she would keep him by her side as a favored courtier once she was installed in her rightful place at court. Although she hadn't been able to hear everything the men were talking about, she knew that Garrett wanted to get her back to where she belonged.

It would be nice to have a husband. Hopefully one that was as attractive as Patrick or Garrett and as skilled at satisfying the needs of her body. 

As she mused over the near future, she saw Samuel and Garrett wrapping up their conversation. Samuel ignored her and began sharpening his knife. Garrett looked down at the whore-maid again, still standing by the river, before glancing at her. He gave her a nod and she smiled at him, before he turned away and went to the tent.

A summons! Finally. Excitement welled between her legs. While she'd enjoyed Patrick's heavy handedness and the way he picked her up or dragged her around, the way that Garrett had just nodded at her and expected her to follow made her just as excited. The man didn't need to be overbearing physically, he just had the kind of aura that made people want to obey. Even Princesses. Licking her lips, she walked towards the tent, slowly undoing the laces on her bodice. Reaching the opening, she walked in to find Garrett with his shirt already off, his impressively muscular chest on display. 

He looked up at her and frowned and she smiled, realizing that he must want her clothes off immediately. Good thing she'd already loosened them, not that they were in very good condition anyway. Smiling even wider, she let her dress fall. 

"I'm ready," she purred, stepping forward.

*******

It was impossible not to feel Garrett's eyes on her, Bridget reflected as she stared at the river. It wasn't very fast moving and there were little minnows swimming in the shallows. Every time she looked up through the trees she could see him standing there, watching. Part of her felt intruded upon, part of her felt safer knowing that he was watching.

Maybe the problem wasn't Garrett, maybe the problem was her. How could she react to him the way that she did? Why did she care so much about whether or not he cared for her? Silly question. But she wasn't ready to admit to the answer yet. Scowling, she threw a rock into the water, watching the ripples that it made in its aftermath. That was how Garrett was with her. Every time she made a decision, every time her feelings settled, he through in a rock and caused a whole new set of thoughts and possibilities to assail her. It was incredibly frustrating. 

Glancing up, she felt as though she could actually see his dark eyes staring down at her. So she stared back at him. Challengingly. After a moment he moved away. She sighed. Was that what she had wanted? Partially. The other part of her had wanted him to come down her and talk her into going with him. Maybe even start courting her. Immediately. 

Perhaps she should go and talk to him. She had thought of more questions - like what they would do if she was with child, which after the past few weeks was a distinct possibility - while she was down by the river. 

Making her way back up the hill to the campsite, she barely noticed her surroundings, which was unusual for her. In fact, it wasn't until she got closer to Garrett's tent and heard the Princess' lilting voice that she realized all three of her companions had disappeared. 

"I swear, if you don't do as I say, I will lose my patience and strap your ass until you can't sit for a week," Garrett's voice growled.

"Yes, my Lord," the Princess said with a moan.

She didn't know what made her do it, she didn't know why she didn't run just then, or go back down to the river, but it was as if she had to see it with her own two eyes so that she would never, ever be fooled by him again. It wasn't enough to hear the words, she needed to witness. To know, for certain. 

"Don't call me that!" snapped Garrett at the same time that Bridget snapped the tent flap open. They were standing in the middle of the tent, Garrett holding the Princess' hands above her head, stretching out her naked body so that she was up on her tiptoes, her breasts brushing against his naked chest, they were standing so close. The Princess had her head tilted back, obviously waiting for a kiss. The marks from Patrick's abuse were clear on her creamy skin, but they didn't detract from her beauty, and obviously Garrett didn't think so either. He turned his head with a snarl on his face, saw her, and the snarl melted from his face. He looked absolutely horrified to see her standing there.

As well he should.

He'd tricked her again. No, she'd tricked herself. After all, she hadn't agreed to go with him and he had never said he wouldn't make the offer to the Princess as well. Once again she'd been trapped by her own assumptions, her own wistful desires. Fury and hurt assaulted her like red, jagged streaks into her body, and it was only then that she realized she was running. Running away, through the forest, with no idea of what direction she'd gone in or where she was going to; she only knew that she had to get away before she did something stupid, like trusting Garrett again. It was emotional survival. The whipping branches of the trees that she passed, the rocks and roots beneath her feet, stung and bit at her skin and the pain felt good. For the first time she wished that Patrick was still around; then he could whip her and hurt her until she didn't feel this great ripping pain in her chest anymore. Garrett's voice still echoed in her ears, calling out her name, and she ran even harder, trying to outrun the emotional pit that she'd fallen into.




Being the Maid Ch. 10



********

It was better than watching a play.

First the little maid stood in the door way of the tent and then all of the sudden she was tearing away and running for all she was worth, straight into the forest. His muscles tensed as his instincts screamed to run after her... if Garrett didn't... but then the other man came bursting out of the tent, wearing nothing but breeches, and looked around frantically. Hiding his smile, Samuel stood so that Garrett could see him clearly and pointed to the direction the little maid had gone in. A tracker like Garrett wouldn't need more than that. 

With a quick wave of thanks to Samuel, Garrett was off and running after the little maid, not bothering to pause for a shirt or anything else. A moment later the Princess stepped out of the tent, completely buck naked and looking furious. Samuel laughed and she turned her head towards him, glaring through the momentary fear that he saw flicker across his face. 

Well here was one last service he could do for Garrett and the little maid. 

Grinning toothily, knowing exactly how people reacted to his cruel smile, he began to walk towards the Princess at a slow and steady pace, circling around slightly so that she would go in the direction that he wanted - and away from Garrett and the maid.  

"Run," he said just loudly enough for him to hear. She started to step towards the tent and he shook his head. "If you don't, I'll tie you up to a horse and send you through town as you are. This is your only chance, Princess. Run."

She ran. Away from him, and since he'd angled himself well, away from Garrett and the maid. The sight of her bouncing buttocks, her flashing legs, was enough to get his blood up, especially since he'd already squelched his instinct to run after the little maid. Laughing happily he began to the chase, jogging fast enough that he could keep the out of shape woman in his sights, but not so fast that it would be over too soon. After all, this time he wanted to completely exhaust her, because he planned on leaving her wherever she fell after he'd had his fun. He'd make sure to catch her close enough to town that she'd be able to make it there on her own, although he smirked to think of how she'd deal with the fact that she was bare as a babe. 

Unfortunately his plans were upset when she ran almost smack dab into a small group of soldiers. Cursing, he faded back and off to the side, not wanting the get too close. They had surrounded her on their horses, talking to the naked woman. And, true to form, the saucy cunt was standing proudly in the center of them, probably demanding her rights as royalty. Samuel's mouth quirked. Not only was she an idiot, but she was in a worse situation than she probably realized. Obviously no one had taught her to recognize uniforms.

Those weren't French or English soldiers, those were Spanish. If she even was a Princess, which Samuel had his doubts of although he knew that Garrett seemed to believe it - mostly because of Bridget, these were not soldiers who were going to be inclined to help her under normal circumstances, much less finding her naked and running through the woods. 

Ah well. He'd already planned to leave her to her fate. Chuckling softly to himself, he watched as one of the men hopped down from his horse and bound the fighting woman's wrists behind her back before helping to lift her face down over the leader's saddle, her head and legs hanging off either side. The man's hand rested on her fine rump as they began to ride again, coming down with a hard slap, probably to try and shut up her screeching. Samuel laughed and headed back to the camp. 

At least now he could take his time about finding a woman in town, he mused as he packed up his things and his payments. Maybe he could even find one as delightful as the little maid. He'd found that he rather liked how excited she got about running from him and fighting him. It was a new experience to have a woman enjoy that and he had to admit that perhaps Garrett was right about a woman's pleasure increasing a man's. Samuel just had to find the right kind of woman. 

Looking around, he didn't see any sign of Garrett and the maid. Ah well. Hopefully they were working things out. If not maybe he'd find the little maid later and take her for himself. Samuel had grown more attached to her than he ever had to any other woman. In the meantime, he'd look for one like her. 

He made a small trail sign, indicating that he'd gone to town, in case Garrett wanted to find him later and saddled up his horse. With one last glance off in the direction that Garrett and the maid had gone in, Samuel headed in the direction of other women and beer.

********

Not for the first time, Garrett cursed the Princess as he ran after Bridget. Fortunately Samuel had pointed him in the correct direction; at first Garrett hadn't been sure whether or not to trust the other man, but as soon as he'd headed the way Samuel indicated he'd seen signs of quick passage. He was following her as quickly as he could, ignoring the stinging on his chest as he was scratched and whipped in his haste. Broken branches, deep footprints where there was dirt, a thoroughly scuffed path, displaced leaves and plants... she'd made it incredibly easy to follow her, but he didn't fool himself into thinking that it was because she wanted him to. The look on her face... pain pierced his chest like a lance. He never wanted to see that expression on her face, ever. 

While watching her down at the river he'd decided that he wanted to go join her but he didn't want her to feel pressured to talk to him, so he'd hit upon the excuse of needing to wash his clothes. He'd decided to take off his shirt and wash that too, in order to have as large a bundle of clothing to wash as possible. To spend as much time down there as possible. Instead the Princess had followed him into the tent and then dropped her dress, practically throwing her naked body at him.

Although he thought she was an attractive woman, he found her personality repellant, and he was definitely not interested in engaging in any kind of intimacies with her. While he might enjoy a light spanking now and then and mixing just a little bit of pain with his pleasure, the Princess' tastes ran so far beyond his that even if he wasn't enamored of Bridget he wouldn't be interested in the Princess. He'd managed to push her away, keeping her away from him by trapping her wrists and holding them above her head. For some reason his rejection of her only seemed to make her more insistent until he'd lost his patience and threatened to strap her. Which, of course, had made her eyes light up and he'd been cursing himself for the useless threat when Bridget had opened the flap to the tent and seen them.

Suddenly he had been even more angry at himself for threatening to strap the Princess, because Bridget knew the woman's proclivities as well as he did and from the way he'd been restraining the Princess in the tent combined with the threat... well he could understand why Bridget thought what she had, although he wished she'd stayed put so that he could explain. Now he was running after her through the woods and worrying that she might trip and hurt herself or step on a sharp rock or any number of things.

At least she couldn't get lost, because he wouldn't let her. He would find her and bring her back to the camp, although he was quite sure that she was going to choose to go to town and leave him tomorrow. And then he would have to choose between hanging around and trying to get her to change her mind and returning home with the documents so that they could bring the traitorous nobles to justice. 

Chasing after her, Garrett called her name until his voice was hoarse. And when he came upon her it was so suddenly that he almost ran right past her. Skidding to a stop, he fell down on all fours onto the ground beside where she was sitting, curled into a ball with her head between her knees. 

"Bridget? Bridget, sweetheart, are you alright? Are you hurt?" Frantically, Garrett began checking over her, only to be halted when she slapped him across the face. 

"Of course I'm not alright!" She lifted her tear-stained face to his and glared. 

"Sweetheart, it wasn't what it looked like, I promise," he said, pleading and ignoring the stinging in his cheek where she'd slapped him. He hadn't known she had such a strong arm. But it didn't matter and he didn't begrudge her the hit. Gathering her into his arms, he held her close to his chest, ignoring the small fist that pounding against his bare skin. The way he was holding her didn't give her much room for leverage so she couldn't get another good hit in. "Please just listen to me... I know what it looked like, but it wasn't. She followed me into the tent and took off her dress before I could stop her, I was holding her away from me and I got so frustrated with how she was behaving that I threatened to strap her, but believe me, I get no pleasure from strapping a woman - even one who wants it - and I have no interest in her."

There was a long moment of silence.

"How do I know that I can believe you?" demanded Bridget. "I can't believe you don't find her attractive. She's beautiful."

Garrett snorted. "Her body and face are fair enough, but she's a viper. And I have no interest in laying with a viper."

Lifting her head, Bridget glared at him. "You had no problem the night that Patrick gave her to you."

"To us, you mean," Garrett said, stressing the 'us'. He lifted an eyebrow at her. "I suppose you wouldn't believe me if I said I didn't lay with her that night either? I did my duty to preserve my identity when Patrick ordered me to participate, but beyond what you saw in the tent I didn't touch her. I didn't want to. I sat outside and listened to... well, I wanted to make sure that you were safe."

"Did you want to at first?"

He sighed, but he wanted Bridget to trust him and that meant telling the truth. "Of course. As you said, she's beautiful. But the more I got to know the two of you, the less beautiful she became. I was not unhappy that Patrick took her for himself, not when we had you - although I would have preferred not to share - and after a few days I was relieved that we had you and that Patrick had her."

Staring up at him, she examined his face as if looking for signs of the truth or lies. Finally she looked away, out into the forest.

"My feet hurt," she said in a small voice.

Part of him wanted to demand to know if she believed him, but he figured she'd already had enough of demands from him. She'd need more time. "Then I will carry you back to the camp."

Standing, he pulled her into his arms with minimal protest, her head nestled against his shoulder, one arm beneath her knees and the other behind her back. She was lighter than she should be and resolved to get her more food from now on. The way her head lay trustingly against his body gave him hope that perhaps she did believe him. 

Doing his best to ignore his automatic reaction to having her soft, warm body in his arms, Garrett began the trek back to camp.

*********

The walk back gave Bridget plenty of time to ponder her actions. Confusion still overwhelmed her. Of course she wanted to believe Garrett, but she wasn't sure if her desire to believe him was negatively affecting her wits. It was as if all the mental and emotional turmoil of her time since her capture was all descending now, as if everything that she should have been feeling every day was suddenly tumbling down on her all at once. She didn't know who to trust or what to believe, she only knew that she was confused and upset and that she didn't know what was to become of her now. 

Going on with the Princess was an impossibility. Garrett was right, the woman was a viper. But she didn't know of a way of life other than being a maid and she had no idea how to find a position in a strange house without anyone who knew her nearby. Would Garrett give her money to go home? Possibly. Except that he wanted to keep her with him, he said. Could she see herself being courted by Garrett, possibly becoming his wife? She made a face into his shoulder. All too easily. At the same time though, she wasn't sure that was truly what he wanted as well. 

It all came down to whether or not she could trust him. Events could have happened the way he claimed. Now that her emotions had calmed somewhat, her body too tired to maintain her anger and dismay, logic was slowly reasserting itself. After all, now that she had time to think about it, she'd never noticed that Garrett had the same predilections as Patrick, and those activities were obviously what the Princess had enjoyed. If Garrett wanted to do those things, wouldn't he have done them with her while he had the chance? Samuel certainly hadn't been shy about claiming her in his preferred way. Neither had Garrett, supposedly, and his way had been almost pure pleasure for her.

Thinking to the future was muddling with her head. Before all she'd thought about was escape. Now her options were so much more varied and so much more complex. How could she forgive Garrett for what he'd been party to? On the other hand, she could admire his loyalty to his family. Unless that was all another act. But if she didn't accompany him home to England, would she ever know? She wanted so much to trust him, it would be so easy to believe everything he said because it was what she wanted to hear. Well, most of it anyway. 

On the other hand, what reason did he have to lie to her now? 

None as far as she knew. Unless he wanted her to accompany him willingly. But why would he try to convince her to accompany him willingly if that would only lead to the revelation of falsehoods? Oh... her thoughts were running around in circles and none of them seemed to make any true sense. So she gave up and leaned into Garrett, enjoying the feel of his smooth, slightly damp skin against her cheek. She'd become very good at living in the moment, not thinking about the future, and for right now it seemed easiest to just fall into that peace again. There'd be time to face the future soon enough.

The immediate future became much more pressing when they returned to the camp and found half of the belongings, Samuel and the Princess gone. Garrett sat Bridget down and made sure she was comfortable before he began to pace around the campsite, muttering under his breath and staring off into the woods. Next to the fire pit there was a small pile of wood and stones that he stared at for a long time before growling and curse. 

"We have to go into town," he announced. 

"Why?" asked Bridget. While she'd been sitting and watching him pace she'd come to the conclusion that whatever she decided eventually, for now she wanted to know what was going on and why she was doing the things she was doing. Also, questioning Garrett would tell her more about him as a man. Would he be angry? Insulted? Not care?

It seemed the third. 

"This is from Samuel," he said with a nod at the little stick and stone pile as he began to gather their things. "It's a trail marker that says he's headed in the direction that I happen to know town is in."

"Is the Princess with him?"

"I don't know." As he turned away he muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'I hope not' under his breath. 

Bridget decided that she would go to town. As soon as she stood up to help, Garrett snapped at her to sit back down.

"I'm fine," she said stoutly. "And I'll have plenty of time to rest my feet while we're riding unless you're planning on making me walk."

He glared at her, but left it alone after that, mumbling under his breath about how he was trying to help her. It wasn't until Bridget went to load a pack onto a horse that she noticed there were three of them instead of four. When Garrett joined her and saw the same thing, his lips tightened and she knew they were both thinking the same thing. Who had the other horse? It must be Samuel, but then where was the Princess?

Bridget supposed it was too much to hope that the other woman had gone into the river and been carried away.

********

For the first time in her life, the Princess Eleanor felt fear. The soldiers around her were speaking in Spanish and she cursed herself for not having recognized their accents before. The captain had her over his lap, which was distinctly uncomfortable and made more so by his caresses. Unfortunately, her body was also aroused by the vulnerability of her situation and the rope around her wrists, which meant that when he pushed his thick fingers into her pussy, she was wet for him. He laughed and showed his glistening fingers to the rest of the troop, who all laughed as well and called her a puta. She hadn't heard the word before, but she didn't need a translator to tell her it's meaning.

"I am not!" she twisted her head around to glare at the Captain. "I am the Princess Eleanor and you will regret this!"

The captain laughed as he smacked her ass, hard enough to make her squeal, and the space between her legs throbbed with need. "Ah yes, a Princess who runs naked through the woods. Very convincing."

"I told you, I was captured by bandits and I escaped! What are you, deaf or just an idiot?" 

His hand came down again, harder, and she shuddered with delight as the hard smack sent a thrill of excitement through her. 

"We will see," he said calmly.

She didn't understand that until they returned to their camp, which was outside of a nearby town. Wistfully she looked at the walls of the town, wishing that she'd made it there. Cursing Samuel, Garrett and her whore of a maid, all of whom played a part in her current predicament. What had gone wrong with Garrett? She still wasn't quite sure why he'd rushed out after the maid when they were just starting to get somewhere. He'd been about to strap her, which she had been quite excited about, and then he was running after that other tart. Perhaps an overblown sense of duty to anyone in his care. Although he really should have let Samuel catch her, that was obviously his thing. 

When they reached the camp, the captain jumped her off of his saddle and she fell in the dirt, glaring up at him. The captain gestured to a man who looped a rope around her neck and then tugged her to her feet. 

"How dare you?" she asked, outraged. "I am a PRINCESS!"

The captain stared at her for a long moment, giving her the first really good look she'd had at him. He was swarthy and dark with a long patrician nose, black browns and hair and chocolate colored eyes that looked her over coldly. It was obvious that his uniform was not padded in any way, he was extremely muscular with very broad shoulders. If he wasn't a Spaniard she might have thought him wildly attractive. 

"Put her in the stocks," he said finally.

Her shrill screams were cut off by the rope around her neck as the other man half-dragged her away. They manhandled her into the uncomfortable wooden stocks so that she was bent over, still naked, her head and hands secured by the heavy wood while her breasts dangled beneath her. The men - there couldn't have been more than ten - had gathered around, laughing and watching, interspersed with a few women. Obviously whores, probably from the nearby town. Heat gathered in her face and chest, the overwhelming urge to cry, and she realized that this must be what shame felt like. 

Then she saw the Captain coming towards her, a long leather strap in his hand and her body quivered. Stepping in front of her, he put the leather strap under her chin and lifted her head. 

"You will tell me who you really are, or I will beat it out of you," he said conversationally.

"I am Princess Eleanor, daughter of King Pierre and Queen Maria of France," she said, regaining some of her hauteur. "And you are an imbecile."




Being the Maid Ch. 10



The Captain smiled and walked around behind her. She heard the whistling of the strap moving through the air before it slammed into her buttocks and she screamed. He hit hard, so hard, without any warm up as Patrick usually did, and it felt so, so good. If she hadn't been panting through the pain, she would have laughed. The man obviously thought he had the upper hand, but he didn't know Eleanor. 

"Who are you?" he asked again, as if one hit would make a difference.

"Princess Eleanor, daughter of-" she cut off with a cry as the strap came down hard across the back of her thighs. Her lower body danced to try and ease the smarting, stinging pain, even as the rest of her gloried in the throbbing ache. Clenching her fists, she bit back a moan as she felt her insides spasm, her hips rocking back and offering up her curvy buttocks for another hit. It came fast and hard and she cried out again.

"I will stop when you tell me the truth," the captain said calmly. And then he began to beat her in earnest. Eleanor screamed and danced, her hips working as she offered up her bottom again and again. It felt like one large throbbing mass of fiery flesh and her pussy clenched in rhythm with the pulsing pain, until suddenly the Captain stopped.

"Did she piss herself?" she heard one of the other men ask, his voice cutting through the hazy fog of pleasure mixed with pain that she was wrapped in. 

There was a pause and then a bark of laughter. "No, the slut's drenched." Another longer pause and then the Captain was kneeling in front of her, his face staring up into hers. Eleanor's eyes were swollen from crying, but she was lost in a haze of pleasure, so close to orgasm that she was ready to start begging him to strap her again. "So you like the pain, do you?" His voice was soft, almost tender. "Then you will enjoy the Spanish. We have many... tools to use on women such as yourself. You will be greatly prized as a whore for us."

"I am the Princess Eleanor," she said and shuddered as she felt a man's hand on her breast, tugging harshly at her nipple.

"You are a whore and you shall be used like one," he said. 

Before she could respond, something tight gripped her nipple, crushing the tender bud and Eleanor screamed. For a moment she danced, before realizing that the pain only increased as her breasts flopped around beneath her, and then with a short sob she forced herself to hold still and the pain faded just a little bit. As soon as she was still she looked down into the Captain's face, which was grinning at her.

"Ready to tell the truth yet?"

"I am telling you the truth," she said, although she couldn't work up any anger right now. The throbbing pain in her breast had heated her core and all she could think about was how much she wanted to be fucked. Fingers pinched at her other nipple and she moaned, her body trembling. This time she knew what to expect and she held still, breathing through the pain, her eyes glazing as she teetered on the edge of climax. 

The captain stood and walked back around behind her. Only a moment later, a cock was thrusting roughly into her overheated tunnel, filling her completely and she screamed in ecstasy as her body spasmed around the rutting Captain. He fucked her hard and fast, his hand coming down hard on her already bruised buttocks and sending her into new heights of pleasure as her orgasm went on and on...

With every hard thrust her breasts flopped, her nipples protesting the abuse, sharp pains shooting through her, and her pussy only clasped the Captain tighter, the hot friction bringing her even more pleasure as he rutted her hard. By the time she felt him shooting his seed inside of her she'd lost track of her orgasms.

Another hard cock replaced his, pushing into her as soon as she was empty, and she moaned. Behind her a line had formed, all ten of the men with this particular troop. The captain came back around to stand in front of her, watching as she was fucked by each of his men. 

Halfway through they took off whatever was on her nipples and she screamed again as blood flowed back into the tender buds. They felt swollen to twice their size and the men took great pleasure in tugging and twisting the sensitive nubbins. The entire time, the Captain directed the entire flow of men, standing over her with his arms crossed on his chest, so that every time she looked up he filled her vision. 

Once the last man was through with her, she was taken down from the stocks, her pussy gaping and overflowing with seed. It spilled down her legs and dropped to the ground beneath her. She felt muzzy and drained from overuse and too many climaxes. Two men, one holding each of her arms, helped her to kneel in front of the Captain. The Captain put his fingers beneath her chin and tilted her head back to look up at him, his dark eyes cold and calculating. It send a shiver down her spine. She couldn't take much more of this, not without food or water or sleep. Her body was exhausted, begging for rest, and her pussy felt swollen and chafed from the amount of cocks that she'd serviced. 

Patrick had given her a taste of being a common whore when she had tried to escape, but he had known her true worth. This man in front of her, he denied her heritage and gave her over to common soldiers without a second thought. There was none of the special treatment, no acknowledgment of her status. Because to this man she wasn't a Princess.

"What is your name?" he asked. 

She licked her lips.

"What is your name?"

"Eleanor," she said softly. 

His lips twitched, as if he wanted to smile. 

"Good girl. Eleanor, I now claim you as my own personal whore." He stood again, undoing his breeches and shoving his cock in her face. It was half hard and still smelled of her sex juices. Gripping her hair, he pushed his cock into her mouth and it began to thicken and lengthen as he continued to speak, his hips thrusting in as he fucked her mouth. "Your only duty will be to please me, whether that be by sucking my cock or fucking all of my men, that will be what you will do. I am now your Lord and Master."

The soft noises she made might have been an attempt to speak or they might have just been an attempt to remove him from where he was lodged in her throat. With the other two men holding her arms, she had no way of controlling the rough treatment of her mouth. Her new Lord and Master eyed the two men that were holding her.

"In fact, once I'm done with your mouth, you will suck these two off to show my gratitude for their current assistance." Eleanor gargled around the cock in her throat as he smiled down at her, looking pleased. "And then we will eat and retire."

Five years later the 'Lady' Eleanor was one of the most greatly admired and coveted mistresses of the Spanish military officers, but her favors could only be acquired through the permission of her Lord and Master. She no longer thought of herself as a Princess at all, indeed, she found she was far happier being her Master's whore.

**********

Blaine awoke to an aching head and body. He felt as if someone had pummeled him. Which, someone had. What the hell had happened? The tension between Garrett and Patrick would have been obvious to a blind man, but he hadn't expected Samuel to take Garrett's side. Personally Blaine hadn't had any fondness for any of them, but he had been willing to continue following Patrick. After all, following Patrick had made him rich. 

Rolling onto his side, Blaine forced himself to his feet, finding his flask at his side. He took a long pull of it, letting the alcohol burn off some of the fuzziness that he still felt. Grappling with Samuel was not an experience that he ever wanted to repeat. Wincing, he rotated his shoulder, feeling the ache in the joint from where Samuel had wrenched his arm. Damn the man.

Looking around, Blaine was surprised to see that he hadn't been completely deserted. The horses and tents were gone, but there was some food left, some packs with the clothes, and - most shockingly of all - his share of the booty that they'd collected. In fact, his things hadn't been touched at all. For a long moment Blaine just stood there, staring.

They had left him with everything he needed to survive. Not just that, but they hadn't stolen from him. Frowning, he began to gather his things, mulling over events in his head. By the time he was completely packed he had come to several decisions. There was no point in chasing after them. After all, they'd hardly trust him now, and with them on horses and him on foot he'd never catch them. There was also no point in trying to get any kind of revenge. He didn't feel any particular loyalty to Patrick, especially now that he was a corpse. 

Wincing again, Blaine began walking, figuring he'd get as far as he could before nightfall. Perhaps it was time to retire from this game. The reason he'd begun this career was because it was a quick and easy way to get rich, but it was also a gamble, and any good card player knew what it was time to leave the table. And Blaine considered himself a very good card player.

With the booty that he'd collected he could easily return to his hometown, laden with 'treasure' from his travels, and set himself up in a house. Maybe even get a wife. He wouldn't mind having a woman around to fuck on a regular basis, as long as she was quiet and didn't bother him. The little maid had been nearly perfect like that. Too bad they hadn't left her behind. Part of the appeal of offing Garrett had been knowing that there would be one less person to share her with. But what would he do? Well, with the money he had, perhaps he could buy that inn that he always wanted. And then hire others to run it for him. Reap the rewards without having to run his fingers to the bone with work. That was the whole point of amassing the amount of money he had anyway.

Plus then he could hire some likely wenches, for serving and extras. And, of course, as owner, he would be able to avail himself of those extras when he wanted. A whole innful of compliant wenches. Hmm. He liked this idea. Maybe he wouldn't need a wife after all.

Happy now, knowing what he wanted, Blaine trudged through the forest, away from his life of crime and into the future.

*******

They found Samuel in one of the three taverns in town, drinking and dicing. Garrett nodded to him, but led Bridget to a table off to the side, away from the gaming. He grinned when he saw them, finishing out his game and coming to join them at their table.

"Found the little maid I see," he said. 

"I did, where's the Princess?" Garrett responded abruptly. And then wished he hadn't because next to him Bridget winced. Despite his reassurances, he could tell that she was jealous of the other woman, and it wasn't that he didn't understand exactly... it was just that he knew very well she had no reason to be and so her lack of trust in him grated. 

"Captured."

"What?"

"She ran off through the woods towards town. I followed her but she got picked up by a troop of soldiers. Looked like the Spanish." Samuel shrugged. "The odds were bad, so I let her go. If nothing else they'll probably ransom her off."

Garrett chewed his lip. Some part of him insisted that he should go after the Princess. Although by now the marriage negotiations must have fallen apart considering that she hadn't arrived the way she was supposed to have. Royalty could move awfully fast when it came to making and breaking alliances, especially when one of the parties to an arranged marriage didn't show up. His main duty, however, was to get the documents home. And on top of that, he wasn't sure how Bridget would take him running off to rescue the Princess.

While he wanted to be a better man for her, it was hard to in these circumstances. Besides, he couldn't really think of what he could do against a troop of soldiers, especially since he'd have two women with him. And there was no way he was putting Bridget in danger. The only other option would be to leave her here in town while he went to rescue the Princess on his own, and however good of a person Bridget might be, he was sure that was the quickest way to losing any affection she might have left for him. 

Finally he nodded.

"Alright then." Both Samuel and Bridget eyed him, Samuel curiously and Bridget suspiciously. "So what will you do now?"

Samuel shrugged and glanced at Bridget. "A little of this and that."

"She knows," Garrett said and Samuel gave a start of surprise.

"Ah. Well then. Still this and that until I get a contact from your father or pick up some information on my own that might be of interest to someone. I was thinking I might go to Paris, see what happens there. I'll be able to let you know when - if - a ransom for the Princess comes in."

"Paris?" Garrett mused. "Yes, that might be best."

"You're off to England?"

Garrett glanced at Bridget, but her face was blank. "Yes, tomorrow morning. I need to beat any messengers that Lord Navarre might send back to England."

"Best of luck to you then," said Samuel. "Tell your father I'll be headed towards Paris eventually. I'll send him messages as I need to." The men shook hands and Samuel smiled at Bridget. "A kiss for the road, little maid?"

Growling, Garrett pulled her back and Samuel laughed before sauntering back off towards the games.

Deciding that he didn't want to stay in the same inn as Samuel, even if the man was marginally trustworthy, Garrett escorted Bridget back out into the street, leading her down to the nicer of the other two inns. 

"We'll stay here for the night," he said.

Bridget finally spoke up. "Oh will we?" Her voice was sarcastic and uncooperative, and she crossed her arms in front of her, halting them in the common room of the inn.

"Please Bridget," he pleaded in a low voice, turning his back to the room so that no one there could overhear or see what was happening. Bridget was an attractive woman and he didn't want anyone to think that she was without protection. "Let me get a room and we'll talk. Or not. Whatever you want for tonight. But I do have to leave tomorrow and I do really hope that you come with me."

*****

Staring up into Garrett's earnest dark eyes, Bridget found herself conflicted all over again. It was so much easier to hold onto her anger when he wasn't looking at her, especially like that. 

"What about the Princess?" she asked. Not even sure why. Part of her felt like she should care what had happened to her former mistress, but truthfully she felt more guilty than anything, guilty because she didn't actually care anymore what happened to the other woman.

"She made her own choices," said Garrett. His tone was dismissive, but she could tell from the look on his face that he felt a little guilty too. Well, at least he wasn't rushing off to rescue her. "Can we talk about this in a room?" His voice turned coaxing. "After a hot bath... I'll have them bring you some fresh clothes... some food..."

A bath, fresh clothes and food did sound good. She looked down at herself, only now realizing exactly how tattered she appeared. While she'd managed to keep her clothes fairly clean, they were definitely looking worse for the wear. Swallowing down her anger at him, she realized that he was right. And she shouldn't turn down his generosity, because she had nothing else to rely on at the moment.

"Two rooms?" she asked, looking up at him a bit plaintively. She needed some space from him, although she shouldn't be asking him for anything right now, did she really have a choice? Despite the slight change in circumstances, he still had all the power because he had all the money and she had nothing but what he decided to give her.

To her relief, Garrett nodded. He didn't seem angry or upset at all, more relieved than anything else. Why would he be relieved unless he truly cared about her staying?

Half an hour later, soaking in a hot bath and scrubbing herself down enthusiastically with a bar of sweet smelling soap, Bridget was still pondering the question of Garrett's true feelings towards her. She'd come to accept that she had feelings for him, because she cared far too much about his feelings for her to continue denying her own, but that didn't mean that he returned them. Of course, from most of his actions the past day it certainly seemed like he did. But what about the days before that?

It occurred to her that part of the reason she was fighting her feelings so hard was because she didn't particularly want to have them for a man that, by all rights, she should hate. Just because he had a good reason, or at least a justifiable one, for maintaining his persona in front of the other men, that didn't excuse the acts that he had perpetrated on her. And all the same... she felt like forgiving him. Which made her feel angry at herself. 

Still, did she really have any choice in the matter? As she hated noted before, Garrett held all the cards, by which she meant the money. 

Sighing, she continued to scrub and rinse, scrub and rinse, until she was pink and squeaky clean. It felt as though she was washing away more than just the dirt and grime, but also her recent experiences. As she rose from the tub, for the first time in ages, she felt wonderfully refreshed and clean. Garrett had even had the inn's maids bring her new clothes, which were waiting for her on the bed. It was a beautiful dress, much nicer than anything she'd ever owned before. The dress of a merchant's daughter or even an gentlewoman. The blue fabric was soft against her hands and skin as she slid it over her head and when she looked in the mirror she felt quite beautiful. 

If only she didn't feel beholden to Garrett for it. 

As if her thoughts had summoned him, there was a knock on the door and she heard him calling her name. Swallowing hard, unsure if she was truly ready to face him, Bridget went and opened the door. 

She wasn't the only one who had taken a bath. Clean-shaven, dressed in new clothes, with his dark hair trimmed and brushed back from his face, Garrett looked every inch a young lord, even if he was wearing simpler clothes. He also looked like the kind of man she could easily swoon over, based on looks alone. Knowing exactly how much pleasure he could bring her didn't help her situation, because just looking at him sent a completely inappropriate surge of lust through her body. 

"May I come in and set down the tray?" he asked. 

Bridget started, realizing that she was standing in the doorway staring up at him. Her cheeks flushed as she hastily moved to the side; she hadn't even noticed that he was laden with a tray of food! Now that her attention had been drawn to it she realized how hungry she was and how good the food smelled.

There were two meat pies, laden with vegetables and spices, and she almost moaned with happiness to have food that hadn't been cooked over a camp fire. The pastry was flaky and buttery, practically melting in her mouth. She closed her eyes and just concentrated on the wonderful flavors, thinking that this was the best thing she'd ever tasted. The wine that came with it was spiced and flavorful, and there was a small piece of sharp cheese for both of them. It was the best meal that she'd had since beginning traveling.

"Enjoying?" asked Garrett. She looked up, realizing that she'd almost forgotten his presence in her enjoyment of the food. No... not forgotten. That wasn't quite the right word. But just relaxed to the point where his presence hadn't been an intrusion. It felt right to be sitting here, sharing a meal with him.

"It's wonderful," she replied honestly. He smiled at her and she smiled back without thinking, too satisfied with the wonderful meal and happy in the warmth and comfort of the inn to do anything else. The smile slowly faded from her face as she remembered that she was dependent on him for all of these comforts and that if she did not travel with him, she would be on her own and in the street.




Being the Maid Ch. 10



"What is it? What's wrong?" 

He studied her, his eyes both penetrating and earnest. How truly interested he looked, how concerned.

Bridget looked down at her empty plate as if it might hold the answers. "I have been thinking..."

"About us?" Garrett supplied after a moment of silence, reaching across the table to touch her hand. His fingers curled around the outside of hers, although he didn't put any real pressure on it. The warmth of his palm covered the back of her hand.

"About a lot of things," she said shortly, although she didn't move her hand away. Part of her wanted to, but she didn't want to upset him, not when she was so dependent on his goodwill. And it did feel nice. "But yes, also about your suggestion. I guess... I guess I'm just wondering why you want me to go with you when, if you're the son of a Duke, any woman would be happy to have you once you're home."

"Well, for one, I am the son of a Duke," Garrett said, although she could see a small smile on his face when she peeked up at him. He squeezed her hand reassuringly. "Perhaps I could have any woman, but I want you. I told you how much I admire you. And I've found... I've found that I care about you more than I thought would be possible. Despite the circumstances of our time together, I have enjoyed your company and I think I would enjoy it even more in more pleasant circumstances."

"What if I were to want more time to think?" she asked. "You must leave tomorrow, you say, but what if I can't come to a decision by then?"

"If you need more time to think or if you decide you would prefer to make your own way, then I will give you half of the money I carry with me. I'd give all to you, but I need enough to see me safely home. You will have enough to make your way back to your family or stay here and make a new start. Or even move elsewhere and make a new start." Bridget looked up at him, completely startled now, and he smiled wanly, naming a sum that left her almost gasping. It would be more than sufficient to do any of the things he said.

"You would really do that?" she asked wonderingly, her surprise overcoming her common sense. He frowned, as if insulted that she questioned his honesty, but he didn't remove his hand from hers.

"Of course. I will not leave you to fend for yourself without any help." He smiled again. "Although, I must confess that I would hope to find that you'd decided to relocate to England, near me."

Despite the fact that she knew he was an accomplished actor, an accomplished liar, Bridget found that she believed him. He would not leave her without funds, she would not be punished for not doing as he wished. Something inside of her relaxed, tension flowing out of her with relief, now that she truly felt as if she had options. And suddenly, she found herself feeling much more goodwill towards Garrett than she'd thought possible.

When she'd thought she had no true choice but to go with him or be left alone and penniless, she'd been angry and she had wanted nothing more than to get away from him, despite a few nigglings of reluctance. Now that she knew she would be taken care of either way, she inexplicably found herself feeling closer to the reverse. Would it be so bad to go with him? Learn more about him?

But there were other considerations as well.

"What if I'm pregnant?" she asked.

Now Garrett took her hand in his, startling her as he pulled it across the table to wrap both of his hands around hers. She stared at him, surprised by the look on his face. It was... caring. Almost loving. Adoring. It made her heart melt a little.

"Then I would hope even more that you would come to me. I would consider any child of yours a child of mine, for he or she very might well be."

Well that was true enough, but she was still startled at his complete lack of caring that she might be pregnant with another man's child. And at his willingness to claim the child as his own. She stared at him as if she could somehow read his intent in his face, but all she saw was sincerity.

"When do you plan to leave tomorrow?" she asked, a little helplessly. Garrett's strong fingers were making little circles on the inside of her wrist, a tickling sensation that sent a little tingle through her body. 

"Just after first light," he said, still stroking her wrist. His dark eyes were filled with a kind of hope that was almost overwhelming to her sense. How could she make a decision with him sitting here looking at her that way?

"May I have tonight to think about it?"

The stroke of his fingers slowed and then he gave her hands a slight squeeze again. "Of course."

Efficiently Garrett gathered up the remains of their dinner to set outside the door for the maid to pick up, Bridget helping as best she could, now feeling incredibly awkward in his presence. After setting the tray outside he came back, standing so close to her that she had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes, and she felt breathless at the tension between them. The possibility of a kiss hovered in the air and she felt her lips parting automatically, as if in invitation.

Instead, Garrett brushed his finger over her pouted lips. "I hope you come with me tomorrow, Bridget. But if not, then I will still hope that you will come to me eventually."

And with that he left her, not even giving her the chance to respond. With a few long strides he was out of the room and it seemed as if he took all the air in it with him. Standing alone, Bridget realized she was trembling. She also realized she was disappointed that he hadn't actually kissed her. But if she had let him kiss her, what else would she have let him do? She should be disgusted with herself, but her overriding emotion was still disappointment.

With slow, dreamy movements, Bridget undressed and crawled into the sweet softness of the bed, almost moaning with pleasure at the luxury of a real mattress. A softer mattress than she'd ever had in her life, in fact. The pillows were like fluffy clouds. And yet she couldn't sleep, because she couldn't turn off her thoughts, which were all of Garrett.

She had so many questions about him. Why was he still pursuing her? Why was he willing to claim any child she had when he would never know whether or not it was his? Why had he said he wanted to court her, after everything? Why was he willing to give up half his current funds for her? Why did he say that he hoped she would come to him eventually even if she chose not to join him tomorrow?

All the questions seemed to have the same answer, it was just one that she hadn't been willing to entertain till now.

Maybe he truly cared. More than cared... was it possibly he loved her? What other reason could there be? Madness perhaps. She giggled a little to herself. Love or madness. Although her father would have said that love is a kind of madness. But how on earth had he fallen in love with her? What was there to fall in love with?

Yet he had to care for more than her body. There would be willing women aplenty on the road and at home, especially with a duke for a father. While being born on the wrong side of the sheets might bar him from a certain class of women, all other classes would be open to him. Women who hadn't been ravished, women who would bring him something other than a child of questionable parentage. None of this made sense unless he truly was in love with her. Honor would be satisfied by giving her money to care for herself. There was no need to practically beg her to go with him unless he truly cared, perhaps even loved her. Not that he'd said the words, but didn't his actions show that it was a possibility at the least?

Bridget rolled around the bed, stretching out her limbs and finding that she wished there was another body there to hold onto. A warm, masculine body. She couldn't deny that she had feelings for Garrett too. Confused, conflicted feelings that made her want to do stupid things.

Or perhaps not so conflicted in feelings. It was just that her heart was telling her one thing while her head was telling her another. She supposed what it really boiled down to was whether or not she could forgive him the past in order to consider a future with him. Was she strong enough to do that? Was it the right thing to do?

Pondering these questions in the darkness, Bridget eventually slipped into an exhausted slumber.

*********

It was a good thing that he had practically trained himself to fall asleep at need. There had been many times in his life when he'd had to snatch a few hours - or less - of sleep under trying circumstances and in uncomfortable locations. Falling asleep on cue had become almost an art. Still, it had been much harder the night before than he might have liked. Awaiting Bridget's answer, after her penetrating questions that showed she was truly thinking about accompanying him rather than just rejecting him out of hand, had given him anxieties that he'd never known before.

In fact, her questions had been more than he'd hoped for at that point. Not that he should have taken her desire for separate rooms as a sign of rejection, in fact it was completely understandable, but some part of him had wished that she craved his company as much as he did hers. Dinner with her had been easy and satisfying. Watching her eat, seeing the enjoyment on her face as she did so, had given him a sense of satisfaction that he'd never imagined. The idea of having her there every night, in his home - their home, only increased his desire to have her with him.

He'd awoken this morning with a feeling of dread, a pit in his stomach, knowing that it was the end of the rope and she was going to tell him her decision. Would he wait for her, in hopes that she might join him eventually even if she decided against accompanying him today? Yes. For as long as he could, although eventually he supposed he would have to move on if she never appeared. But he wouldn't want to.

Her questions had been the first glint of hope for him. He'd practically had to strong-arm her into town and into the inn. That she was thinking about her possible futures, and that one of them included wanting to know how he might treat a babe if she was pregnant, had had him nearly jumping for joy. At least he'd managed to stifle his reaction to just holding her hand, although he'd wanted to do much more than that.

Would she come with him, just for the sake of a possible babe? Even so, he would take her on those terms and somehow he'd earn her respect, her love. All he needed was more time.

Dressed for travel, Garrett awaited her presence down in the common room as the sky slowly lightened. If she didn't come down within the next five minutes then he was going to end up knocking on her door; he couldn't contain his nervous energy anymore. Under the table his leg jigged, a habit from boyhood that he had never quite suppressed.

A tingling sensation, as if someone had blown air across the back of his neck, ran across his skin and he looked up at the staircase to see her descending, staring at him. She looked nervous, but otherwise the expression on her face didn't tell him anything and he could feel his gut tightening further.

Holding out his hand, he gestured for her to join him at the table. He preferred not to stand over her intimidatingly when she told him her answer.

Bridget came and sat quietly as the maid immediately brought over the food he had ordered. Seeing her smile at the sight of fresh bread and porridge made some of the ache in his stomach ease. At least he could please her in this way. Seeing that the table was shaking slightly, due to his nervous leg, he stilled the action as best he could, clenching his hands in his lap before he could start drumming his fingers on the table.

Across from him, Bridget eyed him almost nervously and he tried to smooth his expression into a mask of blankness. He didn't want to alarm her by scowling, even though that's what he felt like doing as she made him wait.

"I would like the money that you offered, please," she finally said quietly, picking apart the bread with slim fingers.

The air seemed to whoosh out of his body on a single breath, a sigh of resignation for the answer that he'd felt in his heart was coming. And he couldn't blame her. Perhaps with more time he could have convinced her of his good intentions, given her more time with the man he was inside, the man he wanted to be for her, rather than the man he had been while under cover. Shoulders slumping, he dug into his pouch for the money he'd prepared, already in its own bag in readiness for her.

He slid the pouch across the table and Bridget picked it up, her eyes widening a little at the weight. Glancing at him, she opened the ties to the bag and peeked inside, gasping again when she saw mostly gold instead of copper or silver. 

Then she looked up at him almost accusingly.

"This must be more than half."

"I have what I need to travel," he said. Which was true. If he was traveling alone then he needed substantially less. If Bridget had been with him he'd be more inclined to stay in places where she could sleep on a bed, and he'd feed her much better than he would feed himself.

Closing her hands almost protectively around the pouch, she pursed her sweet pink lips at him and he had to remind himself that he couldn't kiss her just because he wanted to.

"Where will you go? Or will you stay here?" he asked, because some part of him needed to know where she was. What she would be doing. Possibly how to track her down again one day.

Looking down at her hands around the pouch of money, Bridget's slim fingers loosened from the leather and stroked the pouch, almost as if she was lost in thought. There was a long silence and he wondered if she would even tell him.

Then she looked up at him again, almost shyly this time, with a slight blush on her face.

"I was thinking perhaps England..."

His heart seemed to thud in her chest. "A particular part of England?"

"I was thinking... perhaps... where did you say your home was?"

His lips were curving into a smile that he couldn't suppress if he wanted to. In a moment she might crush his heart, tell him that he was mistaken, but the way she was smiling back at him right now, this wonderful feeling... he wouldn't give it up unless she forced him to.

"Devonshire. Do you think you might perhaps enjoy an escort? I have to tell you that such an escort may need to travel rather swiftly."

Bridget pushed the pouch of money back towards him. "Perhaps I might contribute some funds to help with the swift travel." The little minx. Garrett was grinning like a loon and he didn't care. Then her expression changed a little. "I would also expect sleeping arrangements similar to last night's... I do not know what I will want at the end of the journey."

But she would give him a chance. She would give him time. And Garrett was not going to waste that.

*******

The trip home took a little less than a month. They traveled very swiftly, although perhaps not as swiftly as Garrett would have on his own but he didn't mind. Every day Bridget became more relaxed with him, more willing to allow small touches to her hands and face. One night, at an inn, he kissed her and she didn't pull away, although she didn't cling to him either. Their lips touched, melded, and he coaxed her tongue to dance with his own.

After that he kissed her good night every night, his body yearning for her, but he always pushed himself back. Forced himself to allow her to control their interactions even though every night he went to bed rock hard and dreaming of her.

Unfortunately they couldn't share much conversation while they were actually on horseback, traveling, because of how quickly they had to go. The most time they truly got together was on board the ship across the channel, which didn't last nearly long enough to suit him. Bridget no longer looked at him with suspicion or distaste. Sometimes she even seemed to encourage his attentions, allowing him to hold her hand or snuggling against him when he slipped his arm about her waist or shoulders. Their good night kisses had become more clinging and it was becoming harder to force himself away from her at the end of it.

Every day he found his affections for her deepening, everything about her confirming his initial impressions of her. She was filled with light and laughter, even when they were forced to travel swiftly and were unable to truly appreciate the countryside. Wherever they stopped, she found something to enjoy. He made sure they stayed in inns whenever possible, and she always ended up on the good side of the workers there. Hot baths, good food, special treats, everyone liked Bridget and they did what they could to show it. Not that she was undeserving. One time he found her helping some of the other maids with laundry, telling them stories about life at the French Court while they listened, completely enraptured.

Upon arriving at his father's estate he'd given her the option of not having to meet with his father immediately, but Bridget showed her usual courage and insisted that she wanted to. He decided to take it as a good sign, and hoped that his noble father would see the same things in her that he himself did.

Perhaps he should have worried more about how well they would get along, he thought to himself sardonically as Bridget reduced his noble father to gasping for air in between guffaws of laughter as she told him about one of the more humiliating instances during their travels. It really hadn't been that funny, Garrett thought sulkily. He'd been trying to do a good deed, and perhaps he'd been showing off a little bit, rescuing an older woman from what looked like a threatening situation with a man. The woman had been cornered in the stable yard as the brute raged and yelled at her, a large axe in his hand. When Garrett had stepped in to defend the woman and make the man back off, the woman had ended up turning on Garrett and yelling at him to mind his own business. When he'd resisted her dismissal, still unsure of the man's attentions, she'd used the broom in her hand to chase him off.

And then, of course, once they were inside the inn, the chuckling innkeeper had told him that the couple was married and had a similar face-off at least once a week. Usually as a prelude to bedding. 

Bridget had already been in stitches watching Garrett being chased by a broom-wielding woman, but hearing that he had inadvertently interrupted the couple's form of conjugal relations had her giggling for the rest of the week. And she was far too adept at both description and the ridiculous caricatures of his facial expressions. Scowling, he watched as the woman he hoped would be his wife and his father enjoyed themselves thoroughly at his expense.

"Oh, he was always putting his nose in where it didn't belong," the Duke said, when he was finally able to draw breath again. He wiped actual tears away from his eyes. Tears! "Did he ever tell you about the time he tried to apprehend a burglar and knocked his Uncle unconscious?"

Of course Bridget started laughing and Garrett couldn't stop himself from a small smile either.

"But you're forgetting the important part of the story, Father," he reminded his grinning parent. "He was a burglar, since he was on his way to steal some of your brandy." Giving a supercilious nod, he ruined his serious face by winking at Bridget, but he didn't mind at all. 

The rest of the afternoon was spent with his father regaling Bridget of his various youthful misdeeds. Fortunately none of his half-brothers were in residence or they'd be able to add quite a bit more fodder to the fire. Eventually the Duke called his housekeeper in and asked her to give Bridget a tour of the grounds, giving him and Garrett the chance to talk. That morning he had given his father the papers, and his father had sent out men to take care of detaining the traitors, but his father always liked to have a rundown of the mission from Garrett.




Being the Maid Ch. 10



Considering how quickly Bridget had fallen into the affections of the Duke, he wasn't looking forward to recounting their meeting and his subsequent behavior. His father listened with a frown on his face to the recital, in which Garrett didn't spare himself at all. At the end of his summary, Garrett finished with his intention to court Bridget, wed her and settle down somewhere nearby. 

"Of course you can have the lands I promised you, whenever you're ready to claim them," said the Duke with a wave of his hand. "But I think the more important question is whether or not the girl will have you, and if you'll want the lands if she doesn't. I'm rather surprised that she came all this way with you, in fact."

"I thought she'd wash her hands of me too," confessed Garrett. "But she did not and I hold myself unaccountably lucky for that."

"I prefer to think that she's just much more intelligent than you and saw through to your better parts, behind your so-called perfect disguise," said his father, his voice completely bland and all the more teasing for it. The dark eyes in the hawkish face flashed with good humor. In many ways, his father was just like him, although he'd lost muscle over the years and had a bit of a belly, and his dark hair had streaks of grey in it, they could almost be spitting images of each other and Garrett knew his father's expressions as well as he knew his own. The older man was saddened and disappointed to hear how Garrett had comported himself and yet relieved and glad to hear that he was doing his best to redeem his poor behavior. And also guilty about having sent Garrett into such circumstances in the first place.

But it had been the right thing to do and Garrett had done what he needed to do in order to see his brother's murders hang. And hang they would. He had managed to beat any messengers back to England, because his father happened to know that most of the implicated nobles were in London at court, which is where his father would be tomorrow in order to present the documents of proof to the King. 

"It's possible, but even then it takes a generous heart to forgive what she's been through," he said quietly.

"Very true," said his father, and the two men sat in silence for a while. "I am proud of you, you know. Despite some of the things you had to do, despite the fact that you may have even enjoyed some of them, it takes a strong and wise man to admit when he is wrong and to do what is needful to make it right."

Tears sparked in Garrett's eyes, he hadn't realized until just this moment how much he'd worried over the loss of his father's approval. Hearing that his father could still be proud of him buoyed up his spirits and soothed his guilt somewhat, although he still felt it keenly, especially every time his thoughts dwelt on Bridget and whether or not they might ever have a future together.

The rest of the evening passed quickly. Bridget returned and certain subjects became unmentionable again. She seemed in high spirits, although a little introspective after having seen his father's place. Realizing that she might be a little intimidated, over dinner Garrett had his father describe the lands that Garrett would be receiving which were not nearly as grand as this. Despite the fact that he would soon be an officially acknowledged bastard son, he was still a bastard son and he would not inherit anything like what his brothers would. Which suited him fine; he had not grown up thinking he would and he much preferred the more modest lands that he would soon reside on. And Bridget would feel more comfortable there too.

Seeing her now, at a Duke's table, he could see that she was intimidated and nervous. She managed her manners well enough, probably had observed plenty when she'd been serving the Princess, but she was not comfortable. As far as Garrett was concerned, the sooner he could get her settled onto his lands the better.

The next day, in fact, he found himself handing over full responsibility to his father and heading out to his new home with Bridget. In the past he probably would have accompanied his father to London, he would have wanted to see the traitors' faces as they were uncovered and arrested. Now his main concern was Bridget and settling her in, doing his best to keep her and that meant that she was his priority. Of course eventually he would go to London, probably for some of the trials and the subsequent consequences, to stand with his family for Arden, but that was the future. And if he was very lucky, perhaps Bridget would accompany him as his wife.

When they first arrived at the house, he could see that Bridget was relieved. The house was not nearly as intimidating or grand as the ducal estate; it was a much more comfortable kind of home. In fact, it was the home he had lived in after his mother passed, and he had found it a very comfortable and warm place. The servants, all seven of them, were both competent and loving, and had eased the pain of losing his mother and the shock of discovering who his father was.

The easy relationship that he had now with his father had not started that way, but having this place to call home had helped quite a bit. And now it was truly his. A gesture from his father that showed how much he loved his bastard son. 

Garrett wondered if Bridget knew yet whether or not she was carrying a child. As far as he knew she hadn't bled while they were traveling, but on the other hand, would she have told him? If she did carry a child, he would have to exert himself to court her faster. Not that he had minded growing up a bastard exactly, but he wanted better for his children than what he had. 

The next week was almost pure bliss - or it would have been if he had been getting any kind of physical satisfaction. But still, he truly enjoyed showing Bridget around the house and grounds, watching her befriend the servants, and doing his best to court her. They went riding together, had picnics, looked at the stars, learned about running the house and estate together and separately, and met some of their neighbors. His desire to marry her was soon the worst kept secret in both the household and the neighborhood. And, from what he could tell, Bridget seemed quite happy. He picked flowers for her, bought her little trinkets - which he discovered she preferred over jewels - and new clothes and hats for her. In return, she seemed to throw herself into becoming useful, as if she was determined to be of value to the household and to earn her keep.

He kissed her. Often. As often as he could without bursting his breeches, although he still refrained from pushing her further. He was finally starting to think that she might want him to do more than kiss her, but he didn't want to push it.

And then one morning he woke up tied to his bed.

*******

Bridget couldn't help but laugh at the expressions flitting across Garrett's face. Only one moment of fear, followed quickly by anger, then shock, and finally a kind of blend of confusion, glee and consternation once he realized that there was a naked woman straddling his thighs. At first she hadn't believed Mary, the housekeeper, when she'd been told of how deeply Garrett slept at home. After all, she knew that he was the first to rise in the mornings at camp; but apparently in this house he felt safe enough to sleep deeply and late. 

"What are you doing?" he rumbled, the sleep quickly washing away from his face and body, leaving a rather angry and aroused looking male behind. Smiling, Bridget stroked her fingers down his bare chest. That was something else she'd discovered this morning - Garrett slept in the nude in bed. 

"Whatever I want," she said. 

To tell the truth, she wasn't entirely sure what she wanted. His kisses had awakened a fire in her that refused to be put out, but she felt herself pulling away from them all the same. Every time they kissed she felt herself in danger of being swept away, of losing all control and just falling into bed - or against any reasonably comfortable flat surface - with him. And control had recently become very important to her.

At the beginning of their journey she'd asked him for the money that he'd promised her for two reasons - to ascertain that he'd truly meant his offer and so that she didn't feel as if she was dependent on him. Since arriving at his house, she knew that she was there as a guest in many ways, but she'd also made herself very useful to the household. The housekeeper was overjoyed to have someone to plan the menus and oversee the running of the whole household - in many ways the poor woman had been doing two jobs simultaneously once Garrett had returned until Bridget had taken some of the load from her. This place was fast becoming a home and she didn't want to leave.

But Garrett had been taking too long about his courtship. In some ways it had flattered her, that he was treating her like a lady and not like he'd already known her body. But the truth was that he DID know her body and she knew his, and she very much wanted the cravings inside of her satisfied. While they were traveling she'd appreciated the time to get to know him, but she'd thought that once they arrived at his house he might push forward a little bit. Do something more than kiss her. But he'd kept his hands and lips in safe areas and she was left with an aching between her legs that only he could satisfy.

When they'd first arrived she might have tried to push harder herself, but her courses had arrived. She'd been relieved at the evidence that she was not with child. Despite Garrett's declaration that he would accept any child as his own, Bridget didn't want another man's child that Garrett would accept without ever knowing if it was his. Part of her thought that she should tell Garrett, but she truthfully thought that he'd try to find his way to her bed during the past week and that she would tell him then. Instead he'd done nothing more than kiss her. 

The slow courting had gotten under her skin. She'd realized that she wanted Garrett, she wanted to be in his life, she wanted to be married to him and her body desperately wanted to be in his bed again. But at the same time, she hadn't known how to say that. And she wanted to be in control of this, the first time she willingly came to him. 

Smiling at her with darkening eyes, eyes filled with need as they caressed the curves of her body, Garrett tugged at his wrists where she'd tied them to the bed above his head. "You can free my hands and still do whatever you want."

"No." She shook her head, still smiling, as her hand caressed the flat muscles of his stomach, the back of her arm brushing against the velvet soft skin of his erection and making him groan. "I think I prefer you like this."

Although his hands were tied she'd left his legs free, knowing that they would be useless to him unless he was going to kick her. Which, he obviously wasn't going to do. 

Instead, Bridget ignored his pleas and commands to free him and began to explore his manhood, taking her time to look at every part of him, from the dark hairs at its base, to the wrinkled sack of flesh underneath, up the veiny root to the bulbous head. It was an inspection that she hadn't been able to indulge in before. The soft touch of her hand as she wrapped her hand around the base of his cock made Garrett groan and his hips jerked. The rush of power that went through her as she realized that she truly had him at her mercy was intense. 

Smiling happily, she lowered her mouth to his cock, giving him one long lick from root to tip, keeping her eyes on him. He'd stopped trying to bargain with her and was now just watching her lustfully, his hands stretched out above his head and secured to the headboard of the bed. Having him restrained and bound like this was rather erotic, and she indulged herself with a little flash of herself in this position. Shivering a little, she realized that part of her quite liked that idea, especially if Garrett were to tease her with his hands and mouth. 

Licking around the head of his cock, Bridget enjoyed teasing him with her lips and tongue, her hand stroking up and down the solid length of him. He was hot and hard in her palm, pulsing against her fingers. Sweet fluid leaked from the tip. This was the first time she'd been able to truly indulge in pleasuring a man with her mouth, with no encouragement from the man himself since he happened to be all tied up at the moment. Suppressing a giggle, Bridget took him into her mouth and hummed her pleasure as Garrett bucked beneath her. 

She was feeling wanton, eager. The last of her hesitations had swept away as she realized that she was in full control of this encounter. She could do whatever she wanted... and she was curious about something. Sucking her own finger into her mouth, she then wedged in beneath Garrett, rubbing it against his own crinkled hole. It had occurred to her that she'd gotten quite a bit of pleasure, however unwilling, from some of the attentions paid to her own rear entry and she'd started to wonder if the same might be possible for a man. 

Garrett groaned and bucked as her finger rubbed against the tight entrance, his legs squeezing shut to trap her wrist. Only the very tip of her finger was embedded inside of him, the ribbed entryway squeezing her digit tightly. 

"What are you doing?" The tone of his voice was that of a man doing his best to sound commanding, but coming out more desperately than anything else. "Bridget, stop."

"Just relax, it will feel good," she said soothingly. "Isn't that what you told me?" Indeed, she found a certain amount of justice in this invasion of his body, and she knew very well that her small finger could not possibly be harming him. 

"Bridget... this is unnatural!"

"I thought so too, but it turned out to be more enjoyable than I thought."

Ignoring his further protests, Bridget used the moments when the pressure of his thighs around her wrist lessened to press more firmly and felt her finger sink into that hot crevice.

"Oh God... Bridget..." 

His hips bucked upwards and his legs squeezed together as much as they could before separating again; an action that she recognized from her own body, answering her question. It felt good to him too.

The excitement of penetrating his body motivated her to push deeper inside of him, moving her finger in and out as if it was a small cock, invading his bumhole, her mouth sucking on him as she did so. Did her own bumhole squeeze a man so tightly? If so, she was starting to understand the attraction that the men had had with her the hole. Penetrating Garrett in this was quite erotic, feeling him writhe and tighten around her finger... she was astonished at the grip that he managed with those ridged inner muscles. The look of reluctant pleasure on his face only incensed her further as she pushed back and forth inside of him, enjoying the way his cock jerked in her mouth, the salt-sweet of fluid that coated her tongue as she pleasured him. 

His protests had ceased as his muscles in his legs and stomach tensed and released and she realized that he must be enjoying the sensation, although obviously he hadn't meant to. Looking up at him, she could see that he was no longer watching her; his eyes were squeezed shut and his mouth was open in a voiceless moan, his arms straining above his head. From the way he was moving, she realized that he was going to spend in her mouth soon unless she stopped. Immediately she withdrew her finger and pulled her mouth away with a final kiss to his tip.

Garrett's eyes flew open and he groaned. 

"Bridget..." He writhed a bit as she gripped his shaft and stroked, feeling him pulse wetly against her hand, lubricated with her saliva. 

"Yes Garrett?" she purred as she arranged herself above him. Excitement pulsed through her as she pressed the head of his rod to her opening, her folds slick and eager for him. In fact, she'd been wet and ready for him for days, even though he hadn't taken advantage of that fact. Well it was her turn to take advantage now anyway. 

"This isn't... this isn't how I meant to... do this..." He gasped out the words as she began teasing his head, letting the mushroom pop into her and then slide out again, enjoying the fact that both of them were being teased by this maneuver. It felt good to have him sliding around her folds and then to take just a bit of him into her, stoking her fires. 

"No, it's how I mean to do it," she said, rather smugly. 

For the first time, she was fully in control. The last time she'd been with Garrett she'd been somewhat in control, but she'd also been under the influence of spirits. Although holding Garrett down with her body had been satisfying, she knew that she would never be able to do that with a healthy Garrett. Tying him to the bed, however, served her purpose admirably. Now she was not only able to explore and discover him the way she'd always wanted to, but he truly couldn't do anything to stop her. Oh, she supposed that he could kick her, but she knew that he wouldn't hurt her. In fact, she'd found that he'd won more than her love, he'd won her trust. But she was still going to enjoy this. 

Leaning back, something that she hadn't been able to do the last time because she'd been holding down his body with hers, she sank fully down on top of him, feeling his length penetrate so deeply into her body that it almost hurt. Both of them cried out as she ground down on top of him, her inner muscles clasping that thick rod, her sensitive folds rubbing against his groin as she writhed with the pleasure of having him inside of her again. Pressing her hands against his stomach for balance, Bridget began to rise and fall above him with a slow and erotic pace, her eyes half-shut as she concentrated on the wonderful feeling of his cock rasping against her insides, the delicious friction of his skin rubbing against hers.

Beneath her Garrett's hips rolled as he pushed himself upwards, pressing more of himself against her, into her. It was almost like riding a horse or an ocean wave, and Bridget looked down at him with pleasure filled eyes. Their eyes connected and the intimacy was almost overwhelming. Bridget clenched around him, her thighs tightening around his body as they rolled and rose and fell together, Garrett obviously wanting to be as involved in their love making as she was.

Suddenly she wanted to feel him above her, to feel his comforting weight pressing her down. But that would mean releasing him... still it was her choice to do so. And she knew that, with Garrett, it would always be her choice. 

Leaning forward, Bridget began to untie one of his hands as Garrett took the opportunity to nip and lick at her swaying breasts. She moaned as he sucked one rosy nipple into his mouth. As soon as his hand was released, it joined his mouth in touching her breasts, squeezing and pinching at her unattended nipple. The pleasure coursed through her and she writhed on top of him, gasping with the decadent sensations. Even more endearing was that he didn't used his freed hand to try and take control of the situation. 

If she'd needed confirmation that he was not the man he'd originally presented himself as, that he was the man she'd glimpsed through the facade, this was it. Leaning down, Bridget kissed him, thoroughly, as she began to turn on her side, taking him with her. It only took Garrett a moment to realize what she wanted and his body followed, rolling on top of her, one hand still tied to the headboard. The other cushioned her fall and guided her so that his cock remained inside of her for the entire maneuver. 

The weight of him on her was delicious, her legs spread and ankles wrapped around the backs of his thighs. Their lips were pressed together, tongues melding, her hands stroking his shoulders. Lifting her hips up slightly she flexed around him, feeling the answering surge of his body between her legs. 




Being the Maid Ch. 10



When he pulled away from the kiss and stared down into her eyes, Bridget looked up at him with all the love that she'd finally accepted. 

"Make love to me, Garrett," she murmured. 

"Marry me, Bridget," he responded, his voice just as low, not to mention somewhat strained. 

Widening her eyes in surprise, she couldn't help but laugh. "Is this your idea of a proper proposal?"

"Well," he grinned wickedly at her, revealing some of the roguishness that she knew he possessed. "I promised myself that we wouldn't be doing this," he nodded at their conjoined bodies," until I had made a proposal. And preferably been accepted."

"Does that mean you'll stop if I say no?" she asked, her eyes twinkling merrily as he groaned at the dilemma. 

"It might very well kill me to try," he muttered. 

"Then I suppose I'd better say yes."

"Oh thank god."

And then his mouth was on hers again, drinking in all her sweetness, kissing her almost desperately. The intensity of his kiss took her breath away, just as he began to move inside of her with long, powerful strokes of his body. She moaned into his mouth as he pushed deeply into her, pulling at him with her legs as if she could force more of him inside of her. The desire to have his body melded as closely to hers as possibly was paramount, she writhed against him, under him, for the first time realizing exactly how powerful this primal act could be when ones emotions were fully involved. 

While she could never forget the way that they had met, nor could she ever condone the methods which Garrett had kept his criminal persona in place with, she could forgive him for them. And she could love him and know that he loved her, and they could express that love with their bodies. Movements, pleasures, that had once been completely animalistic now took on a whole new importance as Garrett made love to her, finally fully able to express himself the way he wanted to. He took his time with her, never removing himself from her body completely, but slowing as he needed to, as if he wanted to stay inside of her for the longest amount of time possible. 

They kissed, not just lips, but cheeks, necks, shoulders, stroking each other with their fingers through their hair, down their backs. The pleasure had moved beyond mere ecstasy into an expression of forgiveness, a demonstration of their current feelings and their desires for the future. Considering her introduction to pleasures of the flesh, Bridget was astonished at the difference, and she was glad that she had freed Garrett's hand - the other one had also been worked free at some point, although she'd been too involved to notice until she suddenly realized that he had both arms wrapped around her - so that they could touch and love each other to their heart's content. 

Eventually the needs of their body overrode the desire to slow passion, their bodies moving together faster, harder, and Bridget felt that tingling fire in her core begin to coil and pulse. She curved her arms around Garrett's back, her nails digging into his muscular shoulders as she rocked beneath him, pushing her lower body upwards to meet his thrusts. Beneath her ankles his buttocks clenched as he drove into her, the rate of his breathing increasing as his climax approached. Their kisses became more forceful, less skillful as they moaned and gasped. 

The explosion of pleasure from her center rocked through Bridget in fiery waves, so intense that she saw white light behind her closed eyelids as she cried out in pure ecstasy. Her entire body bowed beneath Garrett's, every muscle tightening and then releasing as she undulated, screaming with the glorious rapture of a long awaited release. Above her Garrett continued to pump his hips, bellowing as her body convulsed around him, beneath him, her soft flesh yielding to his, pulling him inside of her. The fluid boiled up from his balls and burst forth, mixing his cream with hers as they clung to each other, locked in a passionate embrace of mutual ecstasy. 

Even as the intense climax subsided, every movement either of them made seemed to set off a response in the other, small climaxes of pleasure. They exchanged long slow kisses as Garrett's manhood slowly shrank inside of her, neither one of them eager to release the other. Bridget thought she'd never experienced anything more wonderful than this kind of loving after math, a clear demonstration that Garrett wanted her for more than pleasures of the flesh. Although, she thought with a small smile, she had no objection to enjoying those with him as well. 

"Tomorrow," he said suddenly, kissing the tip of her nose.

"What about tomorrow?"

"I'd like to get married tomorrow."

Bridget laughed. "Well if you insist."

******

The day shown bright and warm, all the household agreed that it was the best possible omen. The bride was beautiful. The groom was grinning like a fool. Later he would have to apologize profusely to his father and brothers for not inviting them, and she would have to write to her parents explaining (in a very edited way) what had happened to her, but on the day of their wedding Bridget and Garrett didn't have a care or worry in the world. Garrett whispered to her, at their hastily prepared wedding feast, that it was the best day of his life.

One year and one day later, when their daughter was born, he amended that statement.