tagNonConsent/ReluctanceBeing the Maid Ch. 06

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.


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.


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.

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