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.