tagNonConsent/ReluctanceBeing the Maid Ch. 08

Being the Maid Ch. 08


Garrett pounded through the forest, heading unerringly towards the nobleman's house, the end of his three yearlong mission. It was like hurtling towards the edge of a waterfall, one that he'd been watching coming for miles and miles. In some ways he couldn't believe that soon this would all be over and he'd be able to go home, in other ways he dreaded sorting his way through the complications that had arisen, now at the very end of his quest. He knew that he was traveling too quickly, that he should have some care in his approach on the house, but he was finding it hard to focus on such petty matters.

The entire ride his heart was pounding rhythmically as he chanted to himself - Get in the safe, get the papers, get out of there and get the girl.

It was the last of his list that had him hurrying so. Leaving Bridget in the camp, although not entirely defenseless considering her own ingenuity and his prior warnings to the other men as well as his last words, had been the hardest challenge he'd faced in his entire career. He was a bit of a control freak, not surprising considering his occupation, and it unnerved him to have something of such importance to him go unsupervised. When he'd left he hadn't even been able to look at her, for fear that his resolution would fail him and he'd find some way to convince the other men that whatever was in the safe wasn't important to them. After all, they were only after the jewels and heirlooms that were sure to be hidden away there. But he was after the papers and unfortunately Bridget had no importance to his mission and that came first - had to come first, no matter how much it made him ache to do so. More than one lovely, wonderful girl rested on the successful completion of his mission.

And so he raced along, spurring the horse to greater efforts, attempting to shorten his travels as much as possible.

Get in the safe, get the papers, get out of there and get the girl.


A shudder of anxiety trickled up Bridget's spine as Samuel and Blaine took her into their tent, their movements hurried. Obviously they had become used to taking their pleasures on a regular basis and were eager to resume activities. They took turns stripping her as they divested themselves of their own clothes.

She found herself straddling Blaine, Samuel's hands pushing down on her shoulders to lower her body onto Blaine's up thrust cock. As he shoved into her hole, she felt her body's defenses respond, dampening her sheathe to ease access. It hurt as he pushed in, thrusting his hips upwards, his hands full of her breasts, until he had taken several strokes and completely coated his cock with the lubrication that was leaking from her. Then Samuel's hands were pushing her forward so that her chest was pressed against Blaine's, her body writhing on top of him as Samuel pressed oil slick fingers to her anus.

The sensation was shocking as he penetrated her, the fullness of it strangely pleasurable. Letting out a low moan, she felt herself tightening down around both of them as Samuel loosened up her back door, preparing it for ravishment. Remembering her curiosity about what it would feel like to be wedged between the two of them, when she saw them taking the Princess in this manner, Bridget damned herself for those thoughts. She whimpered and arched her back and Samuel plundered her backside with his fingers... she couldn't imagine how he might fit his cock into that tight space, with Blaine's cock filling up her other hole there was so much less room in her lower body to accommodate another man.

"Pull out a little," Samuel said gruffly as he removed his fingers from her ass. The blunt head of his rod pressed against her crinkled hole as Blaine pulled most of the way out, giving Samuel more space as he shoved into her ass with hole long stroke. Bridget shrieked a little, struggling to get away as Samuel plugged her back door. The big man let out a laugh, grabbing her wrists and holding them to the floor of the tent as he ground himself into her tight anus, rubbing his groin on her creamy buttocks and making his cock bounce inside of her. "That's it... keep fighting little maid..."

As she groaned and squirmed, he withdrew his cock partway and she felt Blaine shoving into her cunt. She was so full, so strangely plumped with meat, her body straining to accommodate the two massive dicks that were splitting her open.

"Slower.... please...." she begged.

Samuel whispered in her ear. "No."

They alternated hard strokes in her body, Samuel plunging into her ass as Blaine's cock receded from her pussy, Samuel lifting his weight from her as Blaine thrust upwards, sinking into her cunt to the hilt. Slowly the burning stretch subsided, the strain lessening, until she started to feel the heady pleasure of being taken in both holes. Her moans changed, from pained to pleasured, as they ravaged her, relieving their ardor with her reluctant body. The sensations were becoming overwhelming as Blaine pushed up hard, groaning and gripping her hips as he filled her cunt with fluid.

Bridget collapsed on top of him, whimpering as Samuel's cock took over the action and he took his pleasure, no longer needing to match strokes with Blaine. The cock in her cunt was still half-hard, the swollen nub of her core rubbing against Blaine's groin with every plunge Samuel took into her rear entry. Blaine held her around the waist, keeping her securely on his cock as Samuel's punishing strokes threatened to dislodge her. The friction of her pearl rubbing against Blaine's body, the gripping convulsions of her cunt around his cock, and the burning thrusts into her ass combined to create a maelstrom of pleasure and pain, and Bridget cried out as her orgasm shuddered through her body, wrecking her senses with its intensity.

She writhed between them, Blaine still taking small strokes with his half hard cock, extending his own pleasure as Samuel pounded hard, her spasming ass gripping his cock like a slick hand. He bellowed and slammed hard into her quivering tunnel, her sucking walls milking the seed from his balls as she came beneath him, her body undulating as she rode out her own pleasure.

"Mmm that was nice," Samuel murmured into her ear as she moaned, her limbs feeling like jelly. Keeping his arms around her, he rolled them off of Blaine, his cock still lodged in her ass.

"Thanks," said the other man absently as he stood, no longer interested in Bridget now that his needs had been met. He walked out of the tent completely naked as Samuel gave Bridget's ass a few more thrusts from the side, obviously just enjoying the end of his fun, before pulling himself free of her body.

Exhausted and somehow emotionally numb, Bridget rolled onto her stomach, keeping her face turned away from Samuel as tears sparked in her eyes. Not only had her body betrayed her, yet again, but she'd been betrayed by Garrett as well. She ignored Samuel as he got up and left the tent as well, lost in her own misery and thoughts. Somehow her misery seemed that much worse now that she knew she couldn't count on Garrett in any way.

When Samuel returned to the tent, a damp cloth in his hand, she looked up at him in surprise. He shrugged and looked uncomfortable at the questions in her eyes as he handed her the cloth. It was warm.

"Don't ask," he said gruffly, before turning his back and stalking out of the tent.

What on earth...?


Garrett had spent most of the late afternoon and early watching the house and reassuring himself that there was no one there but the servants. Of course, they were quite active during day light hours, which had frustrated his plans for quickness, as they prepared the house for the arrival of their master. It was a very large house, but it had the usual arrangement of rooms from what he could tell, making it very easy to determine where the master bedroom was. There didn't seem to be any kind of alarm, so he assumed Samuel and Blaine's burglary from the evening before had gone undiscovered. That didn't surprise him; they'd mostly stolen from the items that the Lord and Lady had sent on ahead, which wouldn't be discovered until the Lord and Lady were in residence and decided they wanted to wear their jewels or use the good silver.

Of course, the most expensive items would be in the safe. The most expensive and the most important, since that's where Garrett knew the man kept his documents. And once he got his hands on them, he would be able to return to the camp and Bridget, and then home.

Crouching low in the bushes, he watched as shadowy figures moved through the house, some windows lit by candles and others completely dark. There were a lot fewer people moving about now that the sun had gone down and the servants were retiring for the night, obviously eager to sleep while they could. Fortunately the servant's quarters were across the house from the master bedroom, so he should have no problem once he got inside.

The last light that he was waiting for, on the back of the house, went out. There were other lights to be seen, on the east side of the house where the servants' rooms were, but he wasn't willing to wait for everyone to be abed. The sooner he could do this, the sooner he could return the camp.

He moved in small spurts, keeping to the shadows, padding silently across the grass. Every few feet he stopped and listened, watched, confirmed that he didn't see any other movements and that nothing had changed. If he was seen and had to run away then he'd have to wait for another night, and once the house was alert it would remain so and make his job all the harder. So many times he'd done this, it was becoming almost as natural as breathing.

Finally he reached the house and he carefully dealt with the lock on one of the lower windows, sliding it deftly from its place. At least this part was easy; all he had to do was follow the directions that Samuel and Blaine had given him, saving him the time of figuring out what kind of lock it was and how best to silently deal with it. Easing the window open, he slid noiselessly over the casement before closing it behind him - although he didn't lock it.

One of the strengths of these types of country houses was their layouts; they were all so similar in design that guests immediately felt comfortable and servants instinctively knew where to go within the. That great strength, when it came to ease of living and receiving guests, was also one of the great downfalls, because people like him, who were familiar with the layout, would be able to find their way as easily as a servant. Except that he didn't belong there.

Garrett spared little attention for the lush tapestries on the walls or the carpets beneath his feet, he was busy listening for any whisper of movement. Reassured that no one had heard his entrance and was coming to check on the room, he carefully opened the door and slid into the hall. It was dark enough that he stood quite still as his eyes adjusted, fortunately it didn't appear that there were any obstacles along the hallway. People who lined their halls with statuary or plants made things so much more difficult.

Padding swiftly and quietly through the manor, he could feel his heart pounding. He was moving so much faster than he normally did, trying to keep his usual standards of care and finding himself impatient with the necessity of it. When he came to the stairs that would be used by servants, he kept his feet close to the walls where they would be least likely to cause the floorboards to creak, and he ghosted his way up to the second floor. Pausing at the top of the stairs, he forced himself to wait and listen again.


The acoustics of the manor were well done, making it so that noise from the servants' quarters wouldn't disturb anyone in the main part of the house and vice versa. And it seemed there were no wanderers at the moment. Trying to quell his excitement, the rush of adrenaline that came as he thought about how close he was to his goal, Garrett padded his way to the Master bedroom and the safe kept within.

******** To Bridget's surprise, she was unmolested for the rest of the afternoon and as she prepared dinner. The tension that had been in the camp when Garrett was present seemed almost completely gone. Patrick sprawled across his seat, the Princess Eleanor in his lap, and he idly played with her breasts as Samuel and Blaine showed him the goods they'd accumulated. Sparkles and metallic gleams caught her eye, even as she tried to pay attention to the food she was cooking over the campfire. There was an art to making food over an open flame and Bridget knew that it was all too easy to burn things. She didn't want to give Patrick an excuse to turn his punishing attention on her.

Mostly she remained quiet, thinking. Wondering. Why had Samuel brought her that clothe? It was something along the lines of what Garrett would have done, had he been there. She hadn't expected to receive anything from him or Blaine, certainly they'd never shown any concern for her before once they were done with their pleasure. And on top of that, she was still furious with Garrett. When he came back she hoped he didn't expect her to quickly submit to sharing pleasure with him, as far as she was concerned he could do all he wanted to try and get a response from her, she wasn't interested. If that ruined things for him, then all the better. He'd played her like a fool, making her think that perhaps there was something more between them than his desire to spend his seed.

It wasn't until the men were finishing up dinner that Patrick's attention turned back to her, after having ignored her the entire day. She could feel his eyes on her, assessing her, watching her, and she avoided looking back at him. The lack of Garrett's presence in the camp suddenly weighed more heavy on her, and she was angry at herself for wishing he was there. But she couldn't deny that she felt safer when he was and now that he was gone she was much more frightened than she had been before.

"I think I'd like some entertainment," said Patrick, as if the thought had suddenly occurred to him, but his wicked smile said that he had a plan in place. He turned to Samuel and Blaine. "Why don't we set up a game for our two lovely ladies to compete in?"

"What kind of game?" asked Blaine, for once looking more intrigued than indifferent. Samuel sat up straighter, his attention also caught by Patrick's suggestion. The sinking sensation in Bridget's gut made her want to run. She was quite sure that she wouldn't like Patrick's idea of a game, but there was no point in running.

"I'd like to see how much our lovely ladies have learned from us," said Patrick. "We'll set them three contests, best two out of three wins. The loser spends the night with me, to do with what I please." His eyes flicked towards Bridget and she almost screamed from the anxiety that was running through her. Patrick wanted her to lose. He wanted her to lose so that he could have an entire night with her, while Garrett was away - and who knew what shape she would be in when he returned. "Winner will get to choose between Samuel and Blaine."

Fury swept through her again, as strongly as her fear, but it wasn't directed at Patrick. It was still directed at Garrett. How dare he leave her here, in this position? If it hadn't been for him then Patrick surely would have been content with the Princess, it was Garrett's supposed attentions that had instigated Patrick's desire for her. If Garrett hadn't pretended to care for her then Patrick wouldn't be trying to provoke Garrett by using her.

But she was the one who had to deal with the consequences, especially since Garrett wasn't here. Damn him.

"Sounds interesting," said Blaine, leaning back. His good natured boyish grin was almost more sinister than if he'd scowled, under the circumstances. "How do we start?"

"Let's have a race," Patrick said. Tipping Eleanor off his lap - her face a study in indignation - he reached into the bag of stolen goods that Blaine and Samuel had brought back and pulled out two long strands of pearls, equal in length. "But we'll make it interesting and stuff these in their cunts. Whoever finishes first wins, but only if they still have at least one pearl left in their hole. If they lose all the pearls from their cunt then they lose the race. Loser gets a spanking and winner gets the pearls."

Samuel laughed and grabbed Bridget hauling her to her feet. "Sounds like fun. Let's strip them down."

She trembled in Samuel's grip as he pulled clothing from her body. This didn't sound like fun at all... she had to win or she'd find herself at Patrick's mercy again and this time she didn't think that she would get off so easily.

Both of the women were bent over as the men stuffed the long strands of pearls into their pussies. Bridget moaned and wriggled at the strange sensation as she was slowly filled with the little globes. When she stood straight again, they shifted inside her, rubbing against her sensitive inner walls. The men walked them over to the "start," where Patrick and Blaine would wait for them, Samuel stood across the clearing, the furthest distance he could get from them. Walking was even stranger as the pearls shifted and moved inside of her; she tensed her muscles around them to try and hold them in place but that only made them rub her more. It was intensely arousing and she could feel her pussy slickening with cream; which worried her because that could only make the pearls harder to keep in her pussy.

They had left three pearls hanging outside of each of the woman, and those slapped against her cunt lips as she walked. Biting on her lower lip, Bridget stared across what suddenly seemed like a great expanse to where Samuel was standing.

"You have to go touch Samuel's hand and then come back here and touch my hand," said Patrick, grinning with anticipation. The men all looked like they were seriously enjoying this prime entertainment, even Blaine was all lit up on the inside. Bridget hated all of them. "First one back, pearls still in her pussy, wins. If you both lose your pearls then first one back wins."

"On the count of three," said Blaine. "One... two... THREE!"

Bridget and the Princess both lurched forward and the pearls seemed to slip inside of her. Screwing up her face in concentration, Bridget began moving as quickly as she could towards Samuel, ignoring the Princess as much as possible and concentrating on her own trials. The more she moved, the more aroused she became as the pearls rubbed and moved; by the time she reached Samuel and stretched out her arm to tap his hand, they felt as though they were lower in her pussy, moving out towards the ground.

The Princess was only a few feet behind her and Bridget began to pick up the pace on her way back, hurrying to return to the other two men before the pearls could fall. Samuel passed her on the way, able to move much more quickly than the women. Frantically she picked up her pace as she felt the pearls shift lower again, traveling towards her entrance now that they were well slicked with her juices. Unfortunately her quickened pace caused the pearls to shift even more dramatically; her pussy rippled, on the verge of cumming, and the clenching of her muscles when the pearls were so close to her entrance caused them to begin to slip from her body, a cascade of shiny beads.

Biting back tears of frustration, Bridget darted forward quickly and slapped Patrick's hand. Now her only hope was that the Princess wouldn't be able to hold onto her pearls as well.

Laughing uproariously, the men cheered the Princess on, Patrick's hands wandering over Bridget's reluctant but unprotesting body. Her heart sank as the Princess came closer, moving slowly now that she knew all she had to do was keep the pearls in to win. When she slapped Patrick's hand, the Princess shot Bridget a triumphant look and the little maid suddenly realized that she hated the Princess almost as much as the men. Maybe more. If she had won she wouldn't have felt triumphant, she would have felt bad for the Princess and relieved for herself.

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