Being the Maid Ch. 03byGoldeniangel©
"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.