"Come on little maid, time to get up." Garrett's deep voice penetrated Bridget's dreams. She felt exhausted and sore, especially between her legs, her muscles unhappy at the amount of nighttime exertion she'd been involved in. "We're going to make breakfast."

Stifling a groan, Bridget started to lever herself up before realizing that she was naked. With a small chuckle as she covered her breasts, Garrett picked up the pile of clothing at the foot of her bedroll and tossed it towards her. It stayed more or less in the folded pile she'd put it in.

Bridget quickly got out of the blankets and put on her clothes before hurrying out of the tent and after Garrett. Moving about was even stranger than the day before as she could feel the after effects to her poor bottom. She still couldn't believe that the men wanted to abuse that particular hole, but the evidence couldn't be denied. As the water began to boil Bridget added the porridge to it, stirring slowly to keep it from lumping.

While part of her might like the minor revenge of making the bandits eat lumpy porridge, it was Bridget's meal too after all. And the princess'. She worried at the fate of her noble mistress, although the princess didn't seem to be suffering any harm that Bridget wasn't. Then again, who knew what else these men might want to do to them? After all, she hadn't anticipated the events of last night at all. And the princess was often alone with Patrick in his tent. What strange things might he like to do? Was there anything awful enough that she’d rather be with three men than one?

Bridget was starting to think that she'd never be rid of the sore tenderness of her feminine folds, not when there were three men availing themselves of her body. Stoically the little maid continued to stir the porridge. She'd always considered herself to be grounded, practical. And part of the reason she'd been chosen for the princess was her adaptability, but that side of her was becoming more and more strained under these strenuous circumstances.

Looking around, she could still see the beauty in the forest and in the morning. She could also see that if she ever wanted to escape, this would be the ideal time for it. Only Garrett to chase after her, the other men would need time to wake up and gather themselves, so she could get a good head start. If she could get onto a horse and scatter the rest then even Garrett wouldn't be able to catch her without catching a horse first. It was really the only good chance she could see.

But it would mean leaving the princess on her own. It was her duty to stay with the princess. Even if it hadn't been, how could Bridget justify leaving the other woman in this situation while making her own escape? It would be incredibly wrong of her.

Scrubbing at her face with her hands, Bridget sighed.

The morning ended up being slightly different than the day before because the bandits wanted to stay in one place for the day so they could hunt. Garrett was the one who told her so after she finished performing her morning ablations. While she might have liked more space away from him, at least he wasn't unnecessarily intrusive.

The princess was looking a little worse for the wear this morning, with puffy red eyes indicating she'd been crying. To Bridget's surprise, however, she was practically fawning at Patrick's feet. He seemed amused by this and occasionally patted her head like she was a dog. Whenever Bridget came near, Princess Eleanor glared daggers at her. So she stayed away as much as possible. Was the princess trying to work her way into Patrick's good graces as a way of obtaining their freedom? It seemed unlikely the men would just let them waltz off at some point, but she supposed that it couldn't hurt to try for better treatment. And if both she and the princess were cooperative then perhaps the men would drop their guard.

She just wished that she could speak with the princess to find out what she was thinking.

Of course, as soon as Patrick and the princess were off to perform their own private morning necessities, Samuel was finally coming out of the tent after having a bit of a lie-in. And he immediately wanted some morning relief. Obediently Bridget got on her knees. Good behavior, she reminded herself. Not that Samuel cared what she did. He just got a hard grip on her hair and used her mouth the same way he'd pounded into her from behind yesterday.

Having her hands pressed against his thighs didn't bother him, but it didn't do her any good either.

So she forced herself to take the oral assault, doing her best to breathe between the strokes of his hard shaft, and trying to muffle her small whimpers. Hot fluid gushed down her throat as he pulsed against her tongue and she swallowed convulsively. It was becoming more habitual now, to drink down the salty liquid, to continue to suck as best she could until the man in front of her pulled out of her mouth.

Samuel left her gasping for breath, on her knees, as he moved to get his breakfast. She massaged her sore throat, wondering if she'd ever get used to the sensation of having him shove so deeply into her mouth. Hoping that she wouldn't have the time to. The taste lingered on her tongue until she got her breakfast.

Later Samuel, Patrick, and Blaine went hunting, leaving Garrett to guard the two women. Patrick had tied Princess Eleanor's hands together and then to a nearby tree trunk, basically tethering her in place. Bridget was left free to roam but that's also because Garrett was there to keep an eye on her. And maybe she wasn't valued as highly as the royal prisoner. Truthfully, she didn't mind that, considering she'd rather be able to move around.

Keeping in mind her decision to be on her best behavior and to try and lower the men's guard, she began to chatter to Garrett. Asking questions. Using his answers to start a new topic for which she could talk about. He seemed amused at her conversation. For the most part he answered what she asked, or at least gave some kind of diversionary response so she could keep talking. The sides of his mouth quirked as she talked about trips that she'd taken before, what the land had looked like comparatively, and what she usually did during camps.

The entire time he kept her busy with work around the campsite; doing the wash, mending some ripped clothing, and eventually peeling vegetables. Princess Eleanor just stared off into the woods, occasionally glaring if Bridget came too close. She started to wonder if perhaps the princess had put up more of a fight than she had, which is why Bridget had the freedom to move around. Perhaps the princess thought that Bridget was traitorous for trying to make the best of their situation, rather than fighting more. Should she be doing more to fight them? It seemed like a path which would lead to her own destruction.

And part of her had to admit she didn't entirely hate everything which had happened to her. She just hated that she didn't hate it as much as she should.

Garrett confused her too. She felt quite sure part of the reason he'd been left behind was because Patrick trusted him to stay away from the princess and to get things done around their campsite. Whereas she was also sure Samuel wouldn't have stayed away from the princess, or gotten anything done. And she was pretty sure that if Blaine was the one left behind, he'd have decided he was in the mood to partake of some pleasure as well and would have taken the time to do so. But Garrett just attended to his duties, quite seriously. And he wasn't unkind to either her or the princess, although she noticed he did keep a sharp eye on her any time she wandered near the perimeter of the small clearing they were in. So, she tried to stay away from the trees, hoping eventually he'd be lulled into a sense of security with her.

It might take days, but it's not like she'd figured out an escape plan yet anyway. Especially since she had to factor in the princess.

"The others should be back soon. Do you want me to prepare you again?" Garrett seemed to appear almost out of nowhere in front of her, looking down at her as she finished peeling some of the potatoes and dropping them in the pot.

"I have a choice?" she asked, slightly amazed.

A smile tugged at his lips. "For this, yes. Although if you're looking for advice I think you should. Samuel's not known for being gentle and it will help."

As if she hadn't figured that out already. She gave him a look to express the sentiment and he actually laughed. It was shocking how it lightened his face, making him even more attractive. Sometimes she almost managed to ignore how good-looking he was, considering her situation those thoughts were inappropriate. Those thoughts likely came about because he seemed the kindest out of all of their captors. But she had to remind herself that just because he was the best of a bad lot, that didn't make him good.

Bridget didn't want to feel any kind of sympathy or connection to him. She'd learned from growing up that sometimes the person who seems the nicest at the beginning can be the worst in the end. There was a girl in her village that was nice to everyone, she became friends with everyone and learned all of their secrets, and eventually she started using that against them to manipulate them into doing whatever she wanted. Right now that was kind of what Bridget was doing, cooperating and acting like they wanted her to so that they would lower her guard. Maybe Garrett had the same plan—be nice and get her to lower her guard so that... well she wasn't sure what he might be able to get that he couldn't have already, but she figured there must be something. It just made her even more suspicious that she didn't know what.

But it wouldn't do to let that suspicion be seen.

Nodding her head she answered him quietly. "Then yes, please, I would appreciate the help."

The look that he flashed her had more than a little suspicion in it, as if he knew she didn't really mean what she was saying. Truthfully, Bridget was somewhat conflicted. She had no idea whether or not being 'prepared' actually helped her but she thought it might have. And Garrett's statement that Samuel wasn't gentle was such an understatement she'd almost rolled her eyes at him. On the other hand, she didn't understand why Garrett would want to help her in any way. It wasn't his night with her after all.

Although perhaps, since tomorrow would be his night with her, he was just trying to make sure she wasn't unduly harmed by Samuel. So far he was the only one who seemed to enjoy her participation in the act. Well, other than Blaine who liked to have her do the work with her mouth, but he didn't seem to care whether or not she moved around much when she was underneath him.

Garrett sat down on a stump and patted his lap, looking expectantly at her. Bridget didn't hesitate exactly, but she did dawdle a little. After all, she wasn't exactly looking forward to this.

"How do you know how to do this?" she blurted out. And then blushed a heated red, twisting her hands behind her back, almost as if she could protect her backside with them. "I mean, how to... um... prepare someone for... you know."

For a moment he looked amused, his eyes sparkling in a merry way that almost begged her to return his smile. Then it faded and he sighed and looked away. Thinking he wasn't going to answer her, Bridget took another few steps towards him.

"My mother was a whore," he said quietly, without shame. "I grew up around women who needed tricks to... prepare themselves for whatever their customers might want."

"So why do it for me?" she asked, slightly emboldened now that he'd answered one question; her curiosity overcoming any inclination to remain quiet. "Why do you seem to care more about whether or not I... um... enjoy myself than the others?"

He shrugged. "It's what I'm used to. Men aren't the only ones who look for pleasure in the bedroom. There are occasionally women who look for ah... companions."

Bridget gaped at him. "And you did that?"

"I was the member of a couple noble households for a while," Garrett said, flashing her a broad grin.

"So why have you turned to thievery and kidnapping instead?" she asked, genuinely intrigued. Garrett was such a contradiction in so many ways. Now his slightly better manners and sense of honor than the other bandits made sense. As did his more gentle treatment of her. He must just be so used to pleasuring women that he didn't know any other way. Or maybe it was just the way that he preferred.

Something hard and almost angry flickered across his expression and then was gone. "No reason of interest. Over my lap now, little maid."

Grimacing, because she knew he'd seen through her delaying tactics and also because she'd gotten more caught up in their conversation and learning about him than she'd wanted to be, Bridget obediently draped herself over his legs. Head on one side, legs on the other, she tried to ignore the way the cool air felt as her backside was exposed. Then he laid his hands on her bare flesh, kneading the creamy orbs of her buttocks and Bridget bit her lip to hide the low moan that she wanted to make as he massaged her.

Unfortunately, his touch wasn't as unpleasant as it should be. At least now she knew why though. Women had been willing to pay him for pleasure, so he must have been good at it. With his handsome looks she supposed she couldn't be entirely surprised. There were often noble ladies who cuckolded their husbands or widows who needed comforting and preferred the find lovers in the lower classes. Not that Bridget had ever met anyone like that, but she'd heard the rumors.

She heard Garrett pull something out of his pocket and then felt his hands spreading her apart, exposing her little crinkled hole to him. Closing her eyes in shame, she gripped his ankle tightly as he rubbed an oily finger over the entrance to her back hole. A shiver went up her spine; the feeling was not entirely unpleasant. In fact, as he pressed gently on that dark entrance, it actually felt a little good.

The pressure against her stomach informed her that Garrett was enjoying himself as the tip of his finger slipped into her tight hole. Men really did become aroused by playing with that area, which Bridget didn't understand at all but there was no denying the hard evidence pressing against her belly. She didn't have the concentration to contemplate it, however, as Garrett pressed his finger deeper, probing her insides. Automatically she clenched down against the intrusion, and she couldn't stifle the moan as he pressed deeper anyway, his slick digit easily pushing past her shuddering muscles. The friction burned a little and she felt that little tremor of tension in her stomach that preceded the build to pleasure.

Even though she knew it was wrong, she couldn't stop the quivering sensations that began as he pushed his finger back and forth, loosening the tight ring guarding her entrance. Bridget whimpered as he slid his finger all the way out and then began to press back in, this time with two fingers, spreading her further open. It didn't hurt exactly, but it tingled in a way that was almost painful, and the full feeling of having two fingers pressing into her backside only intensified the sensations. Hanging limply over his lap, she could feel a similar tingling in her sex. Even though he hadn't touched those soft folds, they were responding to the stimulation of her other hole in a most shameful manner.

As he continued to saw his fingers in and out of her, Bridget couldn't stop herself from squirming. All of her blood seemed to be rushing to her head and her sex, making her feeling dizzy and pleasured. She arched her back, trying to push herself upwards to stop the dizzy sensation. This pushed her backside upwards just as Garrett's fingers were sinking into her and she shuddered and moaned as her body welcomed and rippled around him. Pushing back against him had felt shockingly good.

"That's it, little maid," he murmured approvingly, as if she'd done it on purpose and not accidentally. As if he was pleased to think that she had. "It feels good doesn't it?"

Blushing furiously, Bridget shook her head in untruthful denial. She didn't want it to feel good.

But she couldn't stop the moan as she felt the two fingers that weren't inside of her rear entry dip down to the slick folds of her womanhood. Garrett chuckled as he confirmed what he already knew—she was wet with arousal.

"Oh yes, you do, you seem to like it a lot," he said. As if to prove his point, those fingers sank easily into her sex, so both of her holes were impaled upon his digits. Bridget cried out and arched her back again, but Garrett's other arm was holding her down firmly, keeping her from squirming away from him. His fingers wriggled inside of her, coaxing new sensations that her body seemed to crave, despite what her head wanted.

By the time he removed his fingers she was panting and she almost wanted to ask him to put them back. Her lower body was still burning, but now she was on fire with need... a need that he'd created in her all too often.

Then the slick, hard thing he'd used yesterday nosed against her rosebud and she cried out as he began to push it in. Despite not being as large as Blaine's cock, which he'd put in there last night, its unyielding girth made it harder for her body to accept the thing. The slight pain mixed with the pleasure she'd been feeling and she was horrified to realize it actually enhanced it. She found herself pushing back against the intrusion, the front of her rubbing against Garrett's hard thigh, her own thighs pressed together as the pressure and pleasure mounted.

The stretching sensation of her tight hole peaked and she cried out as her strained ring popped over the thickest part. The curvy plug nestled into her bottom, snugly encased as her muscles gripped it, almost tugging it further inward

Still, the discomfort of having it fully inside of her didn't dissipate the pleasure of feeling so full or the ache between her legs that wanted to be touched more fully. She felt a wash of shame as Garrett picked her up off of his lap and turned her around so that she was seated, leaning back on the trunk he'd just been sitting on. Shame, because of the excitement kindled as he fumbled at the front of his breeches, because she knew that he was going to ravish her and for the first time, she truly wanted it.

The thing in her backside was jostled as she shifted position, making her tingle all over as Garrett pushed up her skirts to reveal her nest of curls at the apex of her thighs. Her pretty pink lips were glistening with her cream and she blushed and looked away as Garrett unlaced the front of her bodice, allowing her creamy breasts to spill out. As his manhood rubbed along her feminine folds, coating itself in her arousal, he lowered his head to her breasts and began to suckle on her rosy nipples. The sensation went straight to her center and Bridget cried out. She was unable to move away or stop him, because her hands had to remain behind her, resting on the stump in order to keep her upright. Otherwise she would lose her balance. And, to be truthful, she wasn't entirely sure that she wanted to stop him. The sensations that he was creating were delicious, stoking the need that had already been swirling deep in her belly. The more he played with her body, the less she cared that she shouldn't be enjoying his touch. All of her thoughts and plans were dissolving into sheer desire for the ecstasy that was not so far out of reach.

The warm blunt head of his manhood nudged against her hole, pushing inwards, and Bridget groaned. Just like yesterday, having something already filling her backside made her sex even tighter around the insistent cock that was invading her body. Garrett worked himself back and forth, pushing deeper into her with every stroke, his hands holding the back of her waist and upper buttocks while his mouth alternated between the hardened nubs of her nipples. Her legs curved around his backside, pulling him deeper into her as she writhed with the pleasure that was mounting inside of her.

Forgetting her shame, Bridget wrapped herself in the moment, the slick sounds of his pole as it thrust into her, the pleasant fullness of her lower body and the rough friction that was feeling increasingly good. Arching her back, she thrust her breasts upwards towards Garrett, encouraging the attention that he was lavishing on them. How could this possibly feel so wonderful when it was so wrong?

She moaned again as he bit down on her nipple, the slight tinge of pain awakening her senses in the most incredible way. When his teeth rolled the little nubbin back and forth she cried out, her insides clamping down on him as she shuddered with the heady mix of stinging pleasure. Somehow, she had no idea how she managed it without falling off the stump, Bridget clasped her arms around Garrett's shoulders, using him to hold her up rather than propping herself up. Wrapped around him with all her limbs, she clung to him, crying out as he buried his face in her neck and began thrusting harder and faster.

Soft cries mingled with masculine grunts as Bridget's pleasure peaked and tipped, shattering her apart as she rubbed herself against Garrett's body, willfully seeking her explosive release. The tingling rapture spiraled out from her loins and sizzled through her body until her toes curled and her fingers dug into his shoulders. With a hoarse cry he thrust hard, the iron rod swelling inside of her and bursting forth, pulsing against her convulsing walls. Bridget almost screamed with the rushing pleasure of it.

They held each other close, moving ever so slightly as they rocked through the last lingering shudders of mutual pleasure. It was then that Bridget realized she was clasping him tightly to her and that, for the first time, she had given herself over to pleasure with one of the men. Was it because Garrett had always been kinder than the others? Or just because he was more willing to talk to her and so she'd started to feel a little bit more like she was getting to know him? Part of her wanted to scramble away and the other part of her wanted to hold him closer and just bask for a moment in warmth and the false feeling of intimacy. To pretend, just for a moment, that the pleasure meant something.

He let out a long sigh and she felt him kiss just underneath her neck, before he pulled away. Glancing up at him she saw him looking at her with the oddest expression on his face, as if something about her troubled or confused him. Well he wasn't the only one. Biting her lip Bridget looked away as she pushed down her skirts over her legs, covering herself.

It seemed as if he was going to say something but then they heard the distant sound of voices approaching. Quickly she began lacing her bodice back up, seeing him adjusting his breeches out of the corner of his eye as he headed towards the sound of voices. Warm fluid trickled down her thigh as she stood, meekly going back to the fireplace to tend to the stew and try to sort out her emotions.

********

Princess Eleanor tugged at the ropes binding her wrists, not because she thought she might actually break free, but because she felt like she should at least be trying. This entire situation was absolutely unacceptable and she needed to get out of it as soon as possible. While she had found herself less averse to being Patrick's plaything than she would have ever thought, she had absolutely no desire to spend any more time in this situation. She was quite sure once she was married that her husband would find ways to entertain her in the bedchamber, she could even suggest some of the games Patrick seemed to like to play, and she was determined to make her way to her future husband with all due haste.

Tramping through the woods with no other female companionship than a maid, only one dress which was rapidly becoming rags, and having to actually help with camp chores was not how Princess Eleanor wanted to spend even another hour of her life. She had always hated traveling and had been looking forward to never having to do so again once she was properly married and settled into her new household. Now she was trapped in the woods, and while Patrick might be able to pleasure her body quite wonderfully he wasn't much company, and the other men were even worse. Except for Garrett. He was rather handsome in a roguish way.

She kept trying to attract his attention, thinking he might be the best avenue of escape. After all, he was the least plebian of the lot, other than Patrick, and she knew very well that Patrick wasn't about to let her go. He couldn't get enough of her. Which was unsurprising. Eleanor had always known she was a beauty.

Now if only she could use that beauty to charm Garrett into freeing her, or perhaps running away with her. Then she could ditch him at the first town or keep, and make her way back to her proper place in the world. And she wouldn't object to allowing him to sample her charms along the way. His hands had been quite arousing when he'd prepared her bottom for Patrick yesterday. Watching him with her maid this afternoon had confirmed that he could bring a lady pleasure. Not that her maid was a lady. The little slut was obviously enjoying their circumstances. Probably wished there were more men around to feed her wanton appetite.

Perhaps Patrick would end up taking the maid once Eleanor escaped.

Snickering a little at the idea, she wondered how the little tart would react to Patrick's rough desires. They had shocked Eleanor at first, but then she'd found she quite enjoyed them once he'd gotten her tied down and positioned. Unlike her strumpet of a maid, however, the princess never showed her enjoyment. She fought like a wildcat until he'd tie her up and had his way with her—and she was quite sure he enjoyed the fight just as much as she secretly did. And once she was tied up, well there wasn't anything she could do but lay there and let him do what he wanted with her. Which was exactly what she wanted.

Hearing the men coming through the trees, she shot a look over at the little whore, who was back to stirring their dinner and acting like she hadn't just been acting the wanton for Garrett. She wondered what he saw in the servant. Maybe just that she was available whereas the Eleanor wasn't. Not that Garrett was looking at her right now, but that was just because Patrick was coming now and even though she was quite sure Garrett wasn't at all afraid of Patrick, he seemed content to let the other man lead. Which meant he wouldn't be approaching her while Patrick was around.

Today she'd hoped she might be able to charm him into speaking with her a bit, so she could begin her campaign toward convincing him to help her either escape or run off with her—preferably run off with her as he'd be able to take care of her until she reached civilization again. Instead, her loose maid had taken his attention all day with her inane chattering. Why hadn't he told the silly chit to shut up? Eleanor's hands itched to give the other woman a slap, even now.

As the men entered the clearing, however, she pushed the slut out of her mind and twisted around, purposefully stretching herself out and creating an enticing image for Patrick with her wrists bound over her head. Almost immediately his gaze swept over to where she was, lust filling his eyes as she stared back at him, pasting a fearful expression on her face.

The smile on his lips as he walked over to her set her heart pounding with anticipation and liquid heat pooled in her belly.

"You're not fooling me, princess," he said softly as he bent down to untie her wrists from the tree while keeping them bound together. "You can look scared all you want, but I know exactly what you're doing."

"You are a cad and a bastard," she said, practically spitting at him in false rage, knowing that he would take any excuse to take his belt to her bottom.

Simultaneously his eyes hardened and flared. "And we've already talked about you keeping a respectful tongue in your head."

Flipping her over his shoulder, he practically knocked the wind out of Eleanor as he carried her off to his tent. She wriggled on top of him, yelping as his hand came crashing down onto her bottom. Soon he'd be slapping her bare skin before taking her again, giving her the pain and pleasure that she craved so much.

Just before they disappeared into the tent, she was twisted around enough to see that her maid was already on her knees, servicing Blaine with her mouth. Princess Eleanor sneered.

What a whore.