Bridget loved traveling. She loved the open air, seeing the many rolling fields and forests pass by, and all the small towns and cities they stayed in. Most of all she loved the days when Princess Eleanor ignored her and allowed her to enjoy the journey. The waspish princess not needing her services often while they traveled was just another bonus as far was Bridget was concerned. Normally they traveled in large entourages and she sat in the carriage with the other maids and only needed to attend to 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, the regular entourage was traveling 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 a disguise 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, each 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, neither the princess nor Bridget knew anything about them. Which meant most Bridget’s 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.

So Bridget was able 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 acknowledged her presence and Bridget 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 she needed to at least stay by the princess' side, do what she could to protect her. It was her duty.

Something slammed into her stomach, knocking out her air, and she fell to the ground so hard she thought she might be seeing golden stars flashing across her vision as she struggled to take in a breath. 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 which 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 would stay that way, remembering the still, bloody 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 never thought she’d be truly pleased to the see the princess, but at least she was a familiar face. Although, at the moment she couldn't see the princess' actual 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 the cast-off clothing 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 the princess would have the sense to be polite. No such luck of course.

"Yes, you swine," the princess 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 who were 'willing.'

The man standing in front of the princess gave off an aura of authority, making Bridget think 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, belonging to the man 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 the other one." 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 who had caught her.

Deciding 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 the woman.

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 difficult 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 the idea, knowing any semblance of kindness 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 a while to get to the campsite the bandits were looking for. By the time they finally did, 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, and 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 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, Garrett 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 Bridget couldn't quite define. Ignoring Bridget, the princess 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 his anger didn't bode well for her, but she was too shocked to move. Too scared to do anything but sit there, hoping the inevitable wouldn’t actually come.

After the men 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 she could eat the bowl of stew 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 the princess’ gag had been removed 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, Samuel," said Garrett in that authoritative voice of his. "You know how we agreed to do this."

Samuel 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 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 Princess 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 between her lips.

"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 breathe.

Garrett murmured encouragement in her ear that she barely heard, advice 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 making her nipples pucker and her breasts feel heavy and swollen, the strange new heat 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 of what she was swallowing. Even though she’d never done this before, she knew from the other maids’ gossip what was happening.

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

"Good girl," Garrett murmured in her ear, distracting her from the ordeal she'd just gone through. "Trust me it was worth it, he won't be so rough on you now, when it's his turn."

His turn for what?

Suddenly Bridget found herself being turned over and picked up, her skirts sliding off of her body and leaving her completely naked and exposed. She whimpered and tried to cover herself with her hands, which the men ignored as Blaine and Garrett laid the skirts on the ground and then her on top of them. Next to them Samuel just stood and watched with glittering eyes, his manhood tucked away, but his breeches were still unlaced. All three of the men were caressing her with their gazes, taking in her creamy skin and moist pinkness between her legs. Unable to bear seeing them drinking her in, she turned her head and found herself staring over at the Princess, only now noticing the shrieks had stopped and Princess Eleanor was now moaning in a way that sounded... unexpected. Not pained moans or protesting moans; there was something in the quality of her voice that stirred that tension in Bridget's belly. She was shocked to see Patrick between the Princess' bare legs, his buttocks clenching as he pumped hard, the same way Samuel had been thrusting in and out of her mouth.

Taking her bound wrists, Blaine held them above her head, kneeling next to her on the ground he cupped one breast in his hand, kneading it almost carelessly. She whimpered, feeling extremely exposed as Garrett lay almost on top of her, his mouth coming down on her other breast. She gasped as he took her nipple between his lips... so wet and hot. The heat between her legs was becoming almost painful, she could feel her womanhood pulsing. Squeezing her thighs together helped relieve some of the tension, but not enough.

She groaned as Garrett's knee thrust between hers, pushing her legs apart. The suckling at her breast made her writhe, forgetting everything in the hot wash of pleasure that slid through her weak defenses. Being completely inexperienced with men, Bridget had no idea how to handle the tumultuous emotions and the desires Garrett was coaxing from her. His hand traveled over the silken skin of her stomach and between her legs, which were parted just enough to allow him to curve his fingers through the curly hair of her womanhood and into that most intimate heart of her.

The touch knocked her back to her senses for a moment and she gave a shriek of protest, which the men ignored.

"Stop, stop, please!" she started to beg, finally finding her voice. Garrett's fingers rubbed between the folds of her flesh, igniting sparks that flew through her, terrifying her as she'd never felt anything like this before. "Oh please, you can't... you have to stop... please... don't!" She tried to squeeze her thighs together, unable to stop struggling now that she'd started, shocked at her own reaction and the sudden overwhelming need for him not to stop.

Garrett removed his mouth from her breast as Blaine pinched her nipple, making her body arch. "This is happening, sweetheart. We've got needs and we haven't had a woman in the camp for a while, but I'm going to take care of you. Just relax, sweetheart, you're going to enjoy this."

Strong hands parted her thighs and she could feel the cool, fresh air licking across her heated flesh. Then his head dipped and she cried out with shock as his mouth came down between her legs.

The hot need she'd been experiencing turned into an inferno. In almost a daze she realized he was licking her, taking long, slow tastes of that most sacred part of her. The firm grip of his hands on her thighs prevented her from struggling further, she couldn't even press her legs together in an attempt to push him away from her body. And she wasn't sure she truly wanted to either. His mouth was eliciting the most incredible pleasure, her body starting to undulate in a passionately needy response to this assault on her senses. She was literally losing her mind to sensual instincts, to the overwhelming demand of her body for Garrett to keep doing what he was doing.

Part of her was screaming out that somehow she had to make him stop and another part of her was protesting the idea of him ever stopping. Her hips were thrusting up and down, moving against his questing tongue and mouth. Blaine's fingers plucked and twisted her nipple, increasing the fervent need building on top of itself within her.

"Please..." she begged, no longer sure what she was begging for. "Please..."

There was suddenly suction on some part of her, suction that sent her careening over the edge of that need, ecstasy blossoming out of the coiling tension and zinging through her body. She writhed, dimly realizing her frantic moans sounded like the ones the princess had been making. The waves of pleasure went on and on, draining the fire from her body until she lay quivering and still.

"Good girl," Garrett said. Closing her eyes, Bridget panted for breath, feeling ashamed of herself. She had no idea what had just happened, but she was sure it wasn't proper. Men weren't supposed to put their mouths on women in that way and she was sure it was wrong of her to have enjoyed it.

Something pressed between her legs and her eyes popped open again to see Garrett kneeling between her thighs, looking down at the juncture of her legs. Before she could say anything, before she realized what he was doing, he leaned over her and something hot and hard and big pushed inside of her, taking her breath away.

"Oh!" She cried out, the unusual sensation shocking her. It hurt, it didn't hurt, it felt strange and wonderful and wrong. Garrett's hands gripped her hips as he pushed deeper and Bridget gasped some more. Blaine continued to hold her arms firmly above her head as she jerked her wrists, one hand still alternating between handfuls of breast flesh. Suddenly she realized what was happening—she was losing her virginity! "Wait! Nooooo!"

Garrett thrust forward and something inside of her gave with a sharp pinch. Bridget cried out and arched her back, trying to move away from him. He held himself inside of her, stiff and hard, her inner walls pulsing tight and wet around him.

"You're doing great, sweetheart," he said, nuzzling his face across the nipple Blaine wasn't playing with. His hips moved and Bridget groaned, hating how the movement called to something deep within her, fanning the embers of heat that had so recently been washed away by the stunning pleasure. "You feel so good."

Then his mouth came down on hers, his tongue sweeping between her lips. Bridget was startled by the intimacy, surprised to have something familiar in this sea of strange. Kissing she had done before. Kissing had been nice. Unsure of what to do, she allowed Garrett to plunder her mouth as he began to move his hips away, the stiff rod inside of her dragging outwards. She cried out against his lips as he thrust back, slowly but firmly. Helpless beneath him, she was shocked to feel her body responding to this invasion the same way it had to his hands and mouth. How could she possibly be enjoying this in any way?

The tight walls of her body trembled around him as he moved, slowly increasing his tempo. Releasing her lips, he buried his face into her shoulder, and it was only then that she realized Blaine had ceased to play with her breasts, although he still had hold of her wrists. The heavy weight on top of her was both frightening and arousing, the hard friction of his flesh thrusting inside of her was driving her wild. Every time he buried himself inside of her, his body pressed against a spot that made her jerk as the sensation flared and sizzled.

Then his weight lifted a little and his hand pressed between their bodies, fingers curving over the hair on her mound and pressing into her soft flesh, right on that same spot. Bridget cried out, her back arching upwards as the intense pleasure burst outward from his rubbing fingers, her insides clenching down around his impaling rod as she writhed, the shockingly wonderful sensations making her dizzy as she moved instinctively to extend the incredible rapture.

"Fuck." Garrett speared her hard, feeling like steel inside of her body and she cried out as he buried himself deeply and held tight to her tender body which was still quivering with the aftershocks of her first orgasm. She was so tight she could actually feel him pulsing inside of her as he found his own climax, the swollen flesh pressing against her clutching walls with every jet of cum.

Breathing raggedly, he held himself inside of her as he made a last few small thrusts before his body totally relaxed and he rolled off of her. Bridget barely had a moment to catch her own breath before she looked up to see Blaine settling over her, his own raging erection prodding at her aching core. Without any preamble he pushed easily inside of her, helped by her own orgasmic juices and the lubrication that Garret's release had provided. He wasn't as big as Garrett either, which made it easier to take him into her body. Bridget moaned, but her muscles felt too watery to actually try and fight him. She ended up with her fingers clutching his tunic as he pumped away on top of her, enjoying the pleasure her body provided him but using her for his pleasure rather than doing anything to ensure her own.

Despite his lack of concern for whether or not she enjoyed herself, Bridget's sensitive nerve endings flared to life as he continued to thrust in and out of her tender folds, inadvertently rubbing against the swollen nub that Garrett had so recently brought to life. Turning her head to the side, she could see Garrett watching as Blaine took her and she dizzily wondered what it looked like from his perspective. The expression on his face told her nothing. Behind him she could see Patrick and the princess, now standing and watching her debasement; Patrick was fondling Princess Eleanor's breasts as he enjoyed the show. As Blaine continued to thrust powerfully, Bridget whimpered and closed her eyes, feeling the beginning of the same coiling tension she’d been lost in before. Her feet automatically coiled around the backs of Blaine's thighs, her body started to undulate beneath him as she moved to meet him.

Before she could find her blissful release though, Blaine was grunting and his bruising thrusts caused her to cry out with shock as he pummeled her tender folds. He continued to thrust, hard, spilling frothy jets of cum inside of her. With a final thrust and a sigh of completion, Blaine rubbed his face against her breasts and then moved away, leaving her legs splayed and her body empty. To her shame, she almost wished he hadn't finished, the need inside of her had built up to the point where she was feeling frustrated she hadn't been able to find those heights of pleasure again.

It wasn't until Samuel moved that she realized she'd forgotten about him. The lustful look in his eyes as he stood over her, admiring her naked body and the leaking, reddened folds of her sex, frightened her. She glanced over to see Garrett still watching and it made her feel a little bit more protected, that he hadn't had her and then deserted her the way Blaine had done. Patrick and Princess Eleanor were no longer standing behind him and she could hear the muffled whimpers and masculine groans which indicated the Princess was being used by the bandit leader again. She felt a cold chill. Was Garrett just waiting for his turn again?

A sharp pinch to her nipples had her arching upwards as she let out a yelp. To her shock, the pain only seemed to intensify the throbbing need between her legs.

"Keep your eyes on me, girl," Samuel said, his smile curving cruelly. Those icy blue eyes were now much closer to her own and she shivered at the cold lust that she saw within them. Wide eyed, she stared up at him, feeling rather frightened. "I want to see your face while I fuck you."

The crude words made her shudder, but she didn't dare look away as he began to push himself into her body. He was larger than Blaine, not as thick as Garrett but longer and she could feel him pushing open recesses that had previously been untouched by the other two men. Gasping, she felt herself moving beneath him as the entrance of his erection flared along those sensitive nerves that had already been so close to bringing her pleasure again. Narrowing his eyes as he watched her, Samuel pinched her nipples again, twisting them, and she yelped as her pussy clenched down around him, sucking at the long, hard member inside of it.

Chuckling he looked over at Garrett, who was still watching with that blankly indifferent expression on his face. "I think she actually likes the pain," Samuel said with a leering grin. "This one's going to be fun."

"Please!" Bridget protested, her hands grabbing at Samuel's as he twisted her nipples again and she shrieked, tears springing to her eyes. She could tell Samuel was enjoying tormenting her and that in some way he was tormenting Garrett as well. Releasing her poor nipples, Samuel grabbed her wrists and held them above her head on his own, both of them clasped in one hand. The other hand returned to her breast as he began to move inside of her, ravaging her sensitive folds. If she hadn't been so well lubricated from the previous men as well as being rather aroused from her incomplete pleasure during Blaine's turn, it would have been incredibly painful to endure his rampaging cock as it sawed back and forth, hard and punishing.

The aborted pleasure from Blaine fought with the erotic torture Samuel was inflicting on her, his body roughly moving on top of hers, his fingers rolling her nipple and tugging it far enough away from her body that she arched her back to follow it. The aching jabs of pain seemed to go straight to her throbbing folds, mixing with the desire for another bought of ecstasy and the hard friction of his plundering meat. Bridget fought the tension coiling so tightly inside of her, not wanting to give this man the triumph of knowing she'd found pleasure in his harsh treatment of her body.

But even though Samuel might be more sadistic than Garrett or Blaine, he still knew how to pleasure a woman and as he felt Bridget's defenses giving way beneath him, he changed the tempo of his thrusts, grinding himself against her body as he slammed home. Leaning forward slightly pushed him against her aching nub that sent sizzling heat through her veins and she cried out in dismay as she found herself thrusting her hips upwards to meet him, her legs curling around the backs of his thighs to urge him onwards. She lost herself in the need, the heat, forgetting where she was and what was happening to her in favor of her body's desires.

Her climax was hard, ripping through her with harsh pleasure. This was no gentle wave, it grabbed her and tossed her about, slamming her into the sand and then rocking her body back again. Bridget writhed, her wet and overused tunnel fluttering around Samuel, massaging his thick length. The sadistic bandit groaned, overwhelmed by the sensations of her sudden orgasm, and pumped hard as he joined her in her release, drawing out her sobbing pleasure.

Rolling off of her almost abruptly, he smirked at Garrett. "Considering how much she enjoyed me, maybe she didn't need your special attentions after all." Then he walked off.

Bridget closed her eyes in shame that she had found a similar kind of release with Samuel as she had with Garrett, although it wasn't quite the same. Now that it was over her entire body seemed to ache. When she tried to close her legs she whimpered as the aching muscles protested.

"Keep your legs open," Garrett said softly, right next to her ear. Bridget gasped in surprise as she opened her eyes to find him kneeling beside her, and then gasped again as something warm and wet pressed between her legs. He was holding a soft, warmly damp cloth against her bruised flesh and it felt wonderfully curative.

"Thank you," she whispered, not sure why he was treating her so well but grateful for it anyway.

"Don't thank me," he said roughly. "You've already gotten an example of what life is going to be like for you for a while. It doesn't stop now. All three of us are going to keep enjoying your body. There's nothing to thank me for."

"Yes there is," she insisted. Bridget wasn't stupid. She had known what to expect almost from the moment the men had captured them, although of course some part of her had hoped for some kind of reprieve right up until it was happening. "It could have been so much worse."

Garrett's mouth tightened but he didn't argue with her and his hand remained gentle as he cleaned her. The heat soothed the hurt from her flesh and after a few minutes she was able to get up and put her clothes back on, discarding the layer of skirts now stained with the evidence of blood and fluid. She would have to wash it before wearing it again.

Between her legs ached, although Garrett heated her another cloth by the fire. He did the same for the princess. Bridget was shocked to see the princess practically simpering at Patrick, the same way she had to handsome young nobles at home. She wondered if the princess was doing it to try and protect herself or if she had somehow found herself truly attached to the bandit leader. He wasn't bad looking after all. Maybe the princess was just making up to him to avoid Bridget's fate. After all, better to be the toy of one man than three. Bridget shivered every time Samuel sent her a lascivious look, remembering that earlier Garrett had said Samuel wouldn't be so rough since he'd already found his pleasure in her mouth. That was less rough? She shuddered.

The men talked and laughed, mostly ignoring the women. Blaine was ignoring their presence entirely. Despite his words to her earlier, Garrett seemed to have taken on responsibility for her, giving her a tea he said would help the aches in her body. He gave one to the princess too and she simpered up at him. Quietly, Bridget drank her tea, wondering what was going to happen next. Escape didn't seem like a viable option, considering she had no idea where they were and she was pretty sure the men would be able to hunt her down easily. And she didn't want to think about what a punishment might be like. Also she wouldn't survive very long without supplies and who knew what kind of wild animals might be around in the forest. Here, there was some semblance of safety, although apparently she was expected to pay for it with her body.

Shooting a little glance at Garrett, she was overcome by conflicting emotions. On the surface he seemed the kindest out of the men, but he kept warning her not to think so. And it was true that he had used her, just as much as Blaine and Samuel had. But he'd gone out of his way to pleasure her as well and to keep Samuel from damaging her. He wasn't exactly an enemy but he wasn't exactly an ally either. Even if he did keep doing things to help relieve some of the harshness of the situation.

Catching her eye, Garrett tilted his head at her.

"What's your name?"

"Bridget," she replied softly, looking down at her empty cup of tea. It really had seemed to work, the aches had receded to the point where she was feeling rather drowsy.

"Come on Bridget, we're going to bed.”

She followed Garrett to the larger tent that was set up, trying not to mince her steps as the flesh between her thighs throbbed. To her surprise, Garrett pulled her into his bedroll and curled up around her. She tensed, waiting for him to take his pleasure again. The hard ridge of his manhood was pressing against her back.

"Relax," he murmured into her ear. "You're not ready for more tonight. That's why Patrick is letting you sleep with me. Blaine would probably let you rest, but Samuel wouldn't."

"Why are you doing this?" she whispered back, confused. "Why are you taking care of me?"

There was a long moment of silence and when he answered his voice was harsh. "Because you'll last longer this way."

Bridget shivered involuntarily. "Are you saying that eventually you'll kill me?"

Another long moment of silence as if he was making a decision. She tensed, waiting on his answer, holding her breath because she didn't think she could possibly take in any air until she knew.

"No. I won't let them kill you," he said quietly. "But keeping you healthy and sane is to all our benefit."

It made sense. An insane woman wouldn't care about running off into the woods or even attacking the men, no matter the odds. And she'd seen firsthand why they wanted a healthy woman around. Especially since Patrick didn't seem inclined to share Princess Eleanor.

Surprisingly, Bridget was somehow reassured despite herself. Closing her eyes, she felt Garrett's presence like a protective cocoon around her. Even knowing it was an illusion, it helped her drift off to an exhausted slumber.