Being the Maid Ch. 01byGoldeniangel©
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.