A Proper Scottish Wife Ch. 19

Lots of things happen in this chapter. Teárlag finally realizes she no longer wants to help Blackthorne, even if it costs her the marriage she hoped for and his potential wealth, though she needs to continue appearing to work on his behalf. Isobel is finally able to consummate her marriage to Frang and make it binding. And Màiri is finally found with some news for the Camerons. There is a description of what Blackthorne has done to Màiri that is disturbing, so be aware. It's bad. There is both oral sex and regular intercourse. We are about to start the final fourth of the novel.

*****

Teárlag had the carriage driver drop her on the outskirts of Achnadrish. She told him to return to the same spot at dusk. He worked for Blackthorne, so he didn't ask uncomfortable questions. She waited until he was out of sight, then made her way to the abandoned house. Getting a candle from the cupboard, she lit it and pulled the cupboard back to expose the tunnel, descending into the hole before pulling it closed behind her. Once she was in the tunnel, it was like all light was swallowed up. Her candle showed very little around her, maybe no more than three feet in front of her, enough to keep her from tripping over the rough ground, but not much else. She found the latch when she reached the end and opened the door.

"Please, kill me," a raspy voice whispered.

My God, Teárlag thought, the poor girl is still alive. What torments she must have endured? She wondered what she had done to earn Blackthorne's enmity when she remembered the servant girl Thorburn told her about. Màiri, she thought it was.

"What's your name?" Teárlag asked.

"Màiri." Teárlag could barely hear her.

It was Màiri; the Cameron's missing servant girl. No wonder no one had ever been able to find her. She was slowly being tortured to death here. Teárlag thought quickly.

"Can you walk, girl?"

"I don't know."

"I can't help you if you can't walk. You must be able to leave under your own power. I can't help you get out of here. You have to do it yourself. Do you understand?"

"I'll crawl if I must."

"Did you see where I came in?"

"Yes." She rasped.

"I'm going to open your cell door and leave the passage door cracked a tiny bit. There's a tunnel; it leads to a house through which you can leave. I'll leave a candle burning by the door, but you must escape yourself. I'm expected, you see. I have to go up and see him, now. If you don't make it, you must never tell him I helped you; or I will join you in your cell. I'll stall him upstairs as long as I can, but you must hurry. Get back to the Cameron's; they've been looking for you. They're taking care of your family. Do you understand?"

"Yes," she croaked. "Thank you."

Teárlag found the latch to the cage. Fortunately, it didn't require a key as she didn't have one. She left the door open, lit another candle and left it by the tunnel, leaving the tunnel door ajar. She hurried up to Blackthorne's study and knocked on the door, waited for ten seconds, then entered. To her disgust, Abner McTavish was there. It made no difference. There were rules to be followed. She quickly stripped off all her clothes and knelt down waiting for Calum to pay her mind. Abner noticed her right away and payed close attention to her as she shed her clothes, starting to rub his cock as she bared herself.

"Pay attention, McTavish. I'll not waste my time repeating myself," Blackthorne barked.

McTavish turned back to Blackthorne, though Teárlag noticed him sneaking surreptitious glances at her when Blackthorne wasn't looking.

"The fact young Frang is a gambler made me think of a possible way to ruin the Cameron's. I'd heard of some cards designed to help cheat. I inquired around and found some of these cheater's cards. Open the deck now."

McTavish opened the deck of cards provided by Blackthorne.

"Look at the backs," Blackthorne ordered. "Do you see any differences in them?"

Looking, McTavish noticed they had a diamond motif on the backs, rather a common design for cards. He was about to say they looked like any other deck, and if it weren't for the fact Blackthorne ordered him to look, he might not have noticed it. But he did. The design was slightly off, like the backs were misprinted or miscut. Some of the diamonds at the very top were whole, others half, and others barely there. He looked again, and they had the same sort of differences on the side.

"Yes, yes, I see it. They're different; not noticeably so, but I do see a difference," McTavish said.

"The way it was explained to me, the diamonds on the tops or bottoms of the cards tell you the value of the card. If you see a whole diamond, it's an Ace. With just a tiny piece off, the King and so forth. If there's almost no diamond left, it's the two. On the left and right of the card, a whole diamond indicates a spade; three quarters, a heart; half, a club and one fourth of a diamond is a diamond."

"So I know exactly what cards the other players are holding!" McTavish exclaimed. "I'll know if their hands are good or bad, if they're bluffing or not. I will know precisely if my hand is able to beat them."

"Correct. I am willing to risk another five hundred pounds if you can get Frang into another card game. Take his money, take your lands back. Take whatever you can. I suspect even you won't lose my money if you know what the other players hold. Don't win a lot of money until you get him in the game. Stay even. If you should have a long run of luck before you start playing him, they may take a closer look at your cards. But anyone can get lucky for a brief while. Long enough to clean him out. I'm giving you a couple decks. Use the first one to practice. Put the cards face down on the table and identify their face value from the back. Keep doing it until you don't make a single mistake going through the deck three consecutive times. You should be ready to play cards then."

"Thank you, I'll do it. You won't regret it."

"I won't, but you might if you lose more of my money. Have your spies reported anything useful?" Blackthorne asked.

"Well, one of the interior spies got placed outdoors," McTavish said, "so nothing useful from him. They don't tell much to the lads outside the house, and when they speak indoors, it's hard to overhear them, because they place guards on the room. I found out which room they tend to meet in and there's a way to overhear at least some of the conversation from a room upstairs. I've told the maid to listen up there if they hold more meetings in that room."

"Useless so far. What else?"

"Frang and my ex-wife attended the Midsummer Festival at Cameron Keep with about thirty of his people and mine."

"Any of your spies make the trip?"

"No, mostly Keep men and a few of mine picked out by Isobel or Cyrus McTeague. They both knew who I was pretty close to."

"Everyone knew about the Festival. Not unexpected they would go there. Still useless. How well defended did they leave it?"

"Forty to fifty fighting men, a few younger lads and older fellows as well, and they've improved the fortifications around the place substantially. They're out there training every morning, a close watch from the house top and several other men watching in the woods around the place."

"All useless to me. So far, I've not gotten much from our partnership, McTavish."

"I'll get Frang in another card game, Lord Blackthorne. We'll start winning back the lands piece by piece."

"You'd better or you're as useless as sails on a house." He looked at Teárlag for the first time. "Stand."

Teárlag stood, hands behind her back, legs spread, as Blackthorne required. She was sick she had to do so in front of Abner McTavish. He was more openly jacking his prick, the pig.

"You're late. You were supposed to be here yesterday after the Festival. Why are you getting here today?" Blackthorne inquired.

"I'm sorry, Master. On the day of the Festival, Isobel learned she's pregnant. Frang asked her to marry her. They announced their engagement at the Festival and were married the following day. I thought you would want me to stay for the marriage."

"Whose child is she carrying?" Blackthorne demanded.

After a moments hesitation, Teárlag said, "Frang believes it is his, Master."

She hesitated because for an instant, she didn't know what to say. There was no way she wanted to give McTavish the satisfaction of knowing he'd fathered a child on Isobel. Additionally, she knew if McTavish could claim paternity, there were other complications which might arise against the Camerons. But from the moment she'd decided to set Màiri free, she no longer wanted to be Blackthorne's spy, no matter what she was giving up. He was a bastard and if he was willing to let her strip in front of McTavish, he didn't deserve her loyalty, and never would. The differences between how she was treated by the Camerons and how she was treated here were like summer and winter. She might have to play the game, but it would be reluctantly.

"Why did you hesitate?"

"There might be some question about the paternity, Master. Isobel's courses weren't regular. Lady Cameron said it's frequently the case when a woman is starving. It makes it difficult to determine the probable conception date. Frang certainly believes it to be his child. He said he would never marry her unless he was certain. I understand they began sexual relations shortly after he won her in their card game." She nodded to McTavish. "I understand he makes her squeal in pleasure when he couples with her. The night after their wedding, the whole Keep woke up to the sounds of a woman in ecstasy. I understand she swooned from the passion of it."

Blackthorne nodded thoughtfully. Teárlag thought, you bastard. It was me who woke the fucking Keep with my screams of pleasure. It was me who swooned because my lover knows how to properly fuck a woman, while you do not, you sadistic prick.

"How is your seduction of Thorburn going?"

"He fucked me in the ass, Master, the night of the Festival."

"Did you enjoy it?" Blackthorne asked.

"Nay, Master. You know I don't care for it, and Thorburn's cock is larger than yours. It was very painful. I could barely sit the day of the wedding." It felt like heaven and it was the first time he made me scream like a banshee, Teárlag thought.

"You haven't let him fuck your cunt?"

"Nay, Master. I told him my reputation would be ruined if I had a child. I would not let him fuck me there." He's fucked me multiple times and I cum so hard on his cock, you wouldn't believe it, you sick shit, because he's four times the man you are.

"And your mouth?"

"Aye, when I said I couldn't take his cock in my ass again, he implored me to suck his prick. My jaw still hurts, Master." I drained his balls every chance I got in every way I could and I'd gladly do it again. "I've done only as you instructed, Master, as much as it pains me to do so." I loved every second of it.

"So, another brother married and a possible heir on the way. This is getting worse and worse. Something better happen soon."

"Lord Blackthorne," McTavish said, "I was wondering if I might have another taste of your slut, sir? It's been weeks since I had a woman."

"Why should I care if you've had a woman or not, especially since you've been totally ineffectual."

"I know I'm going to start winning some of your money back, perhaps some land as well. This would be a way to seal our arrangement."

Blackthorne thought about it. He was already using her to seduce Thorburn. What was another man, more or less. Besides, as much as she protested the pain of it, she made a point of identifying how big Thorburn's prick was, and more than once. It was a feature where he felt inadequate, and to have it thrust in his face repeatedly was annoying.

"Oh, go ahead, but only her mouth. You haven't earned the use of any more than that. Kneel down, girl. Hands behind your back. You're not to use them at all while servicing McTavish."

Teárlag knew she shouldn't have spoken of the size of Thorburn's cock, that she might pay for it somehow, but it was an easy and effective way to stick a knife in him. She prepared herself for McTavish. He was so disgusting. If he ever washed himself it had to be in the muck of a pigsty. It would take all she had to keep from retching. No wonder Isobel hated men.

She was on her knees with her mouth open watching him approach with a disgusting leer on his face. He raised his kilt and put his filthy cock in her mouth, slamming to the back of her throat until she gagged. Holding her head to more effectively control her, he began thrusting in and out, enjoying the sensation of having this lovely naked slut suck his cock. Blackthorne watched them for about a minute before returning to the work on his desk.

Damn, she was a fine cocksucker, McTavish thought. Blackthorne knew how to train his bitches. He regretted the length of time since he'd had a woman as he knew he wouldn't last long with her talented mouth engaged in attempting to drain him. Too bad. He would have really enjoyed spending some quality time with her lips wrapped around his prick. All too soon, he felt his sap rising until with a final thrust, holding her head hard against his gut, he spilled his seed deep down her throat. He felt her struggling to absorb his load, her throat working to swallow his cum. Aye, that felt good. When he was done, he squeezed the last few drops from his cock and rubbed them on her lips.

"She's got an amazing mouth, Lord Blackthorne. You've trained her well," McTavish said, watching her lick his cum from her lips.

"You can leave now," Blackthorne said. "Take the cards with you and start practicing. Remember what I said. Three times through the deck without error before playing cards with them. If you lose any more of my money, I'll have your balls."

After McTavish was gone, Teárlag asked, "Master, why do you give me to that disgusting pig? If I'm to be your wife, why give me to anyone at all?"

"I already share you with Thorburn in order to accomplish my goals. What difference does another cock make?" He answered. "Other than to provide me with an heir, you're sole purpose in life as my wife is to satisfy every need I have. Giving you to other men of my choosing will keep you from thinking you're anything more than that, a repository for my cum. You should never believe you will be any more than what you will be, my personal slave."

"McTavish is so filthy, Master. He stinks. It's all I can do not to vomit all over your carpet. Can't you at least give me to someone cleaner and more desirable?"

"Like Thorburn, perhaps?"

"At least he washes himself, Master. I have no desire to couple with anyone other than you, Master. You're to be my husband. You're all I want. I only let Thorburn have me due to your instructions. Please, Master. Take me to your bedroom and let me show you how much I desire you. At least let me wash the taste of him out of my mouth by sucking your cock, Master?"

"It has been awhile since I've enjoyed your services," he mused. "All right. Go up to my bedroom and stand next to your whipping post. I shall punish you before taking you. I'll be up there shortly."

Teárlag gathered her clothing and went up to his room. She laid her things on his reading chair and stood next to her whipping post. She'd already experienced his ideas of preparing himself for sex several times. It seemed he was unable to get a cockstand without inflicting pain. It was nearly a half hour later before he came up. That was fine with Teárlag although her legs and feet were tired before he got there. Any delays were good both to allow Màiri to escape and to put off her own pain.

"Will you be whipping my back or my front, Master?" She asked when he arrived.

"Your front, I think," he replied.

She took her place at the front of the post and allowed him to fasten her wrists to the leather bracelets suspended from the post. Her legs were fastened to either side of the post and slightly behind it. It bowed her body slightly so he'd have access to more of her front.

"I believe Thorburn will be coming to see me on Saturday, Master, so you may wish to use a whip which won't leave marks past Thursday or Friday."

"Of course."

He undressed and found a multi-stranded whip with wide thongs which would redden her body, but leave no long lasting marks. He started in whipping her body, her breasts, stomach, her mound, the fronts of her thighs, even her cunt. Teárlag screamed with the first blow, knowing how much he liked to hear her howl in pain. It always went easier for her when she screamed than when she tried to suppress her shrieks. With each shrill screech, his prick rose a little more, until his tiny shaft was as hard as it would get. When he was hard, he released her legs and lifted her on his cock, thrusting hard in her dry sheath.

It was time to start planning for the possibility that Thorburn might giver her a child. She needed Calum Blackstone to release his cum in her, as much as she hated him too.

"Fuck me, Master! Fuck me hard. You feel so good in me. I've never felt so good fucking you before. Show me whose slave I am! Make me your slut, Master. I'm wet for you. You're going to make me climax, Master. Fuck me."

Proud to be making her moan over him and scream his name in pleasure, he plunged harder into her, banging his tiny cock into her cunt. She barely felt it. She squeezed down as hard as she could to increase the pressure on his prick. He was starting to grunt with a little more regularity and Teárlag sensed he might be close to his release. Rather than let him pull out and push into her ass where he preferred to cum, she wrapped her legs around him and rode him hard, squeezing him to her.

"You're making me cum, Master. You feel so good. Oooh, Oooh. I'm cumming, I'm cumming, oh, God! I'm cumming!"

He was trying to pull out, on the precipice of his orgasm, but she clenched to him with all the strength of her legs and rode him hard until she heard him scream and felt his cock squirting into her sex. Just in case, she thought. I can claim any child is his.

"I climaxed in you. Why didn't you let me pull out?" Blackthorne yelled. "You can't get pregnant yet. Our plans are not complete."

"I couldn't help myself, Master. Never has anyone made me feel that way. It felt so good to feel you fuck me that way. Feel how aroused I am."

"That's my cum," Blackthorne said.

"No, I'm wetter than with just yours, Master." Of course, she thought, I was imagining another, larger cock plunging into me; not your piddling little toy.

He reached down and felt her moisture. As she said, it seemed there was more than what he'd left in her.

"Never have I been taken so forcefully, so masterfully, my Master. As I said, I could not help myself."

"Well, let's hope you don't get pregnant before our plan is finished," Blackthorne said, proudly. "I won't take a pregnant wife down the aisle and I certainly don't want any more bastards."

Don't worry, you sadistic swine, I no longer plan on marrying you.

"I'm positive it will be okay, Master," Teárlag said. "Women very seldom catch on the first time. It may not even be my fertile time of the month. I'm not sure. If you release me, I can clean your cock, Master. Perhaps you can even fuck me again. I shall be more careful next time."

"Very well."

Blackthorne released her and Teárlag went to her knees to clean his pathetic cock. With a little effort, she was able to get him hard again. She lay back on the bed and waited for him to climb between her legs. He was able to couple with her for fifteen minutes. When she realized he was getting close to a second orgasm, she started moaning and screaming as she had before.