by Ashe Barker
I regard him, turning the possibility over in my mind, all the time conscious of Robbie’s finger, gentle but persuasive, pressing against my rear entrance. At last, I nod.
“Say it, lass.”
Ah, that again. “Yes. I will. But, I don’t know how…”
“We know. Let us take care of you.”
Again, I nod, and this time Will accepts that answer. He kisses me, his lips warm and soft against mine and I wonder that could ever have been afraid of this man. Of either of them.
Will rolls onto his back, pulling me on top of him. I take my weight on my elbows, tunnelling my fingers through his long, dark hair as I become the aggressor in the kiss. I plunge my tongue into his mouth, twisting it around his. Will’s response is to suckle my tongue, his palms pressing large, firm circles across my shoulder blades and my naked bum.
I’m aware that Robbie has gotten to his feet. He steps away, but moments later he’s back, kneeling behind us.
Will breaks the kiss. “Ready, lass?”
I whisper my answer. “Yes.”
Will places his hands on my hips and urges me to kneel above him. He smiles up at me. “Arch your back, Charlie. And spread your legs.”
I obey, and sigh as Robbie parts my buttocks with his hands.
“Such a sweet virgin arse, little one. Will you open for me, do you think?”
“I, yes. Of course…” I turn to peer at him over my shoulder, mildly indignant. I know what I’ve agreed to.
“Aye, I expect you will. Eventually. With a wee bit of coaxing.”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“You soon will, little Charlie. And believe me, you’ll find the coaxing something of a challenge, this first time. But I wager you’ll love it too.”
“Look at me, sweetheart.” This from Will, his tone harder, more insistent. I obey at once.
“Watch me. Listen to me. Talk to me. Tell me if you need to stop.” Will’s instructions are curt, and clear. I chew on my lip as I nod my acceptance.
Robbie’s fingertip is again circling my anus. I concentrate on remaining still as he probes and explores, I flinch as something warm and slick splashes against my skin, some sort of oil I imagine. This must be why he left us for a few moments; he was fetching the lubricant. I could ask what it is, I suppose, as I don’t for a moment imagine K-Y Jelly was prevalent in Elizabethan England, but instead I close my eyes and concentrate on the sensation he’s inspiring as he works the oil into my arse.
His finger slips through my tight opening, which has slackened to admit him. Just the tip at first, but he presses harder, and soon his entire finger is buried inside my arse. He swirls it around, the movement slow, gentle, agonisingly patient as he works to loosen the sphincter.
Incredibly, I’m at ease with this. His hands are gentle, his touch assured. My eyelids droop as I relax into it.
Will lifts his shoulders from the tartan to kiss my forehead. “Good girl, so sweet, so brave.”
Robbie slides another finger into my arse alongside the first. It’s tight now, and harder to accept. It hurts, almost. I gasp as he thrusts, his strokes long and deep, conquering me fully.
He pulls his fingers out, and seconds later the blunt head of his cock nudges my entrance. Now the moment has arrived, I’m scared. Really nervous. My body tenses, I start to panic.
Will’s hands bracket my face, forcing me to meet his gaze.
“You can do this. It’ll be slow, take as much time as you need. But you can and you will. Yes?”
“I’m not sure…”
“Do you want us to stop?”
I shake my head. I’m not entirely sure what I do want, but it isn’t that.
Will just nods, first at me, then over my shoulder at Robbie.
The pressure is intense, forcing my tight muscle to open, to admit the wide intrusion of Robbie’s cock. He pushes, just a little, then withdraws only to push again. Harder, more insistent, demanding entry. And suddenly, he has it. My arse opens and the head of Robbie’s cock is inside me.
I let out a strangled cry, more one of surprise than pain. Will lifts a hand, his signal to Robbie to stop. The pressure is there, my arse stretched tight around the intrusion, but Robbie doesn’t push any further in.
“Charlie, are you still with us? Are you doing all right?”
“I don’t know, I, oh…”
“Am I hurting you?” This from Robbie, his voice gentle behind me.
I shake my head. In truth, it feels odd, somehow wicked to be doing this with two men I met just yesterday. But he isn’t hurting me. And I don’t want to stop.
“I’m fine. Just, it’s a little strange…”
“Push back against him. Open, relax, and let him in. All the way in.” Will’s voice is quiet, even, hypnotic almost. And so exactly what I need to hear. I obey.
Oil splashes onto my skin as Robbie pours on more lubricant. He presses forward again, and this time the effect is magnified as I push back. His slick cock slides further in, helped by the lubricant that he has applied liberally, to both of us. I gasp, and Will signals a halt once more.
I’m glad of the brief interlude and use it to draw in several long, deep breaths. When I make eye contact with Will again, he lifts that expressive eyebrow, asking me if I’m ready to continue. I smile, though I fear my efforts may be somewhat shaky, and resume my pushing back to settle my arse even further around Robbie’s solid erection. He joins his efforts to mine, and in the next seconds his cock slides home.
“So good. So hot, and tight.” Robbie’s breathy murmur is gravelly, little more than a growl as he holds that position, waiting for my body to reshape around his.
Exhausted, almost overcome with the intensity of sensation, I allow my shoulders to fall forward to rest on Will’s chest. His arms are around me, his palms caressing my shoulder blades, so those must be Robbie’s hands at my hips, holding my bum still as he slides back out, ready to thrust.
I let out a low moan as he does just that, the stroke long and slow, considerate of my near virgin state. It feels wonderful, intimate, wicked, and utterly delightful. I’m open, exposed, used in the most delicious way I can imagine. I lift my hand, seeking—something.
A hand links with mine, our fingers interlock. Will, surely, though it hardly matters to me. I squeeze the hand holding mine, and am squeezed back.
Will shifts, reaching, and I squeal as he connects with my clit. The combination of Robbie’s cock in my arse and Will’s fingers strumming my clit is explosive. I orgasm immediately, clenching around Robbie as I roll my hips from side to side.
“Fuck, wench, that feels good.”
“It’s Will. He’s touching me, and… Oh! Ooh.” Will pinches my swollen clit, the pressure focusing my attention and causing my arse to relax then spasm hard as yet another climax gathers.
“Sweet Jesus, you two, this isn’t going to last long if you carry on like that.” Robbie’s voice is almost tortured, but he manages to deliver several hard, sharp thrusts even so.
Will releases my clit, and the blood rushing back tips me over the edge again. I cling to his hand as my world tilts on its axis, the sensation more intense than anything I’ve encountered before. Robbie drives his cock deep again, and I scream as the pleasure overwhelms me. This is enough, too much. My orgasm seems to go on and on, subsiding then whipped back into shimmering, pulsating life by the firm, relentless friction of Will’s fingers against my clit.
Robbie swears, spears his cock into me one last time, and holds still as his erection jerks inside the constraining tightness of my arse. The heat of his semen hitting my inner walls is a shock, far more than I imagined. I whimper, though in ecstasy rather than pain. Will seems to appreciate the difference as he just squeezes my hand tighter, muttering something incomprehensible into my ear. Something soothing, calming, reassuring.
For several minutes no one speaks again. The sound of laboured breathing is all there is to hear as the three of us remain motionless on the tartan blanke
t, sated, Robbie and I still joined, Will’s hand gripping mine. Eventually someone has to move, and it’s Robbie. He withdraws from me and rolls onto his back. I might have shifted too, but Will’s arms hold me in place, my breasts flattened against his solid, wide chest. In truth, I have no pressing desire to go anywhere. I’ve never felt more content in my life.
Time passes, I have no idea how much. At last, the fresh spring air takes on a chill. I shiver, and this time it is due to cold. Robbie stretches, then stands up. He strolls away, to return after a few moments with another plaid, which he drops onto my back. Will tugs it into place, tucking it around me. I turn my head to see Robbie, still magnificent in his nakedness though looking considerably less rampant now, reaching for his discarded shirt.
“Is it time to move on?”
He glances back at me. “Soon. No hurry. I’ll relight the fire. Can I use your little magic candle?”
“Of course. And it’s not magic. Why do we need a fire?”
“Would you prefer to wash in cold water?”
Ah. Right. I smile at him and snuggle closer to Will. This could turn out to be a very nice arrangement. As long as I’m here.
Chapter Six
We make camp for the night on the shores of Ullswater, close to the most northerly point on the lake. Will and Robbie select a sheltered spot, and make short work of erecting my tent. In fairness a two-year-old could do it, but they seem inordinately pleased with themselves so I say nothing.
I crawl inside and lay my sleeping bag on the floor, spreading it out to share between the three of us. We can lie on it, and use Robbie and Will’s tartans for covers. We’ll be snug, but I reckon I could get to like that. I re-emerge to find Robbie preparing our campfire. Will is nowhere to be seen.
I eye the tent, thinking it looks distinctly incongruous in this setting. “What if someone comes along? Won’t they think it odd, a bright yellow poly-cotton tent?” I’m comfortable talking to Will and Robbie about my twenty-first century origins, but I don’t fancy trying to explain myself to every passing peasant.
“I agree the colour’s a bit startling, but I daresay we’ll manage. If asked, we’ll be harder pressed to explain the presence in England of two Scots from Queen Mary’s court.” Robbie grins at me, and I get the impression he’s not unduly worried about any of it.
“Are you not supposed to be here?”
“We’re carrying letters from the English queen to Mary, so have the right of passage through this land. Even so, we avoid encountering the local populace where we can. This is a lonely enough spot though; we’re not likely to meet any curious Sassenachs here.”
“You didn’t avoid me.”
“Ah, wee Charlie, are you still holding a grudge because we tied you to a tree?”
“It wasn’t very nice of you.”
“Granted. So, shall we make up for it this night, then?”
“I expect you could. Do you have something particular in mind?”
“He always has much the same thing in mind, lassie. As do I. Can we eat first though?” Will calls out to us as he appears from a copse of trees. He must have ears like a bat to have overheard our conversation. Still, nothing surprises me now about these two. He strides toward us and drops a couple of rabbits at my feet, victims of his uncanny skill at trapping. Trout, rabbits, is there no end to his talents?
I’ve always prided myself on my independence but I smile to myself, loving the feeling of being desired, protected. And fed. Cooked fresh meat trumps cereal bars any day. I crouch beside the pile of twigs to light the fire and soon we have a crackling blaze. I avert my eyes from the gory sight of the two men skinning the rabbits. I’ll cook our supper, but given a choice I prefer to obtain my meat pre-packed at Tesco.
I wonder if I’ll ever see Tesco again, or my car, or my flat, or the ambulance I crew around Manchester. Given my circumstances I couldn’t be in better company, but I’m homesick. And seriously scared of what the future holds.
“Lass?” Will peers at me, his expression curious. “Is something amiss?”
I shake my head. “No, not really.”
“Lass, you’re falling back into bad habits. Do we need to be cutting another switch for your bottom? It would be no trouble.” His tone has hardened, just slightly, but enough to catch my attention.
Robbie’s too. He pauses in his task. “There’ll be no need to trouble with another. I kept the one you cut this morning, I can bring it to hand readily enough.”
I shake my head fast, clenching my buttocks. This morning’s experience is still vivid in my memory and I’m not eager to revisit it. “I was thinking, that’s all.”
“Aye?” Will regards me, clearly expecting more than that.
“Just, about what’s going to happen. To me. What if I can’t find my way back to my own century?”
Will shrugs. “Then you’ll stay here in ours, I suppose.”
“I can’t stay here. I have a life, a home. Friends.”
“Aye. And family?” Robbie has resumed his task, but is watching me carefully.
I shake my head. “No, well, yes. My mother lives in London. I don’t see that much of her though. And I have a younger sister too. But I live on my own. Apart from my dog.” I left my little toy fox terrier with my neighbour while I came on this trip. She’ll be in good hands if I don’t return, I know that. Still, I miss her.
He offers me a tight smile. “While you’re here, you’ll have a home if you want it, either at Kinrothy or with clan Sinclair in the Highlands. You won’t have to live alone.”
“I don’t mind being alone. Or, I didn’t…”
Robbie’s features are sympathetic. “It’s a lot to take in, lass. But it’ll work out. Things usually do, eventually.”
I gaze at the pair of them. “It all feels so strange though, sort of mixed up. And crazy. I have no idea what might be in store for me, yet I know everyone else’s future. I know what’s going to happen. To Queen Mary, and Elizabeth. Lots of things. I learnt it in history at school.”
Will chuckles. “Aye, and hindsight is a truly wondrous thing. It might be best you don’t tell us our future though. Or anyone else. We don’t want you being taken as a witch.”
I gape at him. “A witch! Why would anyone think that? I’m not a witch!”
“No, we understand that, but there are those who might believe it. You’re a woman with knowledge no one should have, least of all a bonny wee wench. There are many who fear what they don’t understand, and are too ready to cry witchcraft at anything new or different. As long as you’re here we need to find ways to help you fit in, and not attract the sort of attention that might cause you harm. Until we can work out a way of getting you home.”
“Aye, Will’s right. So no showing anyone else those treasures in your bag, if you please. And if we do meet anyone between here and Stirling, try not to talk, or to ask questions that could get you noticed. We’ll conclude our business at court as soon as we can, then decide where’s best to take you.”
I manage a tremulous smile for them. “Thank you. I know you’re going to a lot of trouble for me.”
“Ah, lass, but you do have your compensations. You purport to be able to cook, for one, though we’ve yet to see a great deal of evidence for that claim.”
I take the hint. “Right. Is that rabbit ready for me then?”
The conversation drifts to less pressing topics as we roast our supper and chew on the delicious slivers of tender meat. The mood is amiable, companionable, and all talk of switches averted. For now.
* * *
“Are you tired, lass?” Robbie reaches across to stroke the loose hair from my face.
I stretch and roll my shoulders. “Yes, and I ache in places I didn’t know I had.” The combined effects of being spanked, hours spent in the saddle, and energetic lovemaking. It’s been quite a day, all in all.
“Go on then, scramble into your pretty little yellow nest. We’ll clear up here.”
I get to my feet, yawning. �
�Oh? Aren’t you…? I mean, I thought we’d all share the tent.”
“We will. We’ll be in there with you soon enough.”
I nod, satisfied with that, and head for the tent.
“Oh, and Charlie,” I turn at Robbie’s voice. “You’ll sleep naked, aye?”
“Aye. Of course.” I lift the tent flap and duck inside.
I wake, some hours later, to pitch black outside and in, and the gentle sound of breathing on both sides of me. I am sandwiched between two large, hard, warm bodies, my nose pressed against Will’s bare chest, and Robbie spooning me from behind. I give a little wriggle, which earns me a soft tap on my bum and a growl from Robbie.
“Be still, lass.”
I don’t answer, just slide back toward him. His arms close around me, and I drift back to sleep.
* * *
We make good time over the following two days, and encounter little in the way of local population. An occasional shepherd, on one occasion a travelling tinker pushing a small handcart piled high with goods and trinkets. I would have been fascinated to examine his wares but Robbie and Will wouldn’t hear of it.
“That’s how news spreads, lass. That fellow only has to hear your speech to know there’s a stranger in the area, and it’ll be all over the north of England in a week.”
Robbie and Will take a lengthy detour to avoid Carlisle, a lawless border town in these times I gather, and head across the open countryside of the Scottish lowlands toward the ancient town of Stirling.
Although the queen apparently prefers the luxury of her palace at Holyrood in Edinburgh, the ancient royal fortress in Stirling offers her the security she needs right now. Will explains that she is in the final stages of pregnancy, her heir expected within the coming weeks. If the child is a boy, the succession for Scotland will be secure; if a girl, less certain. Will offers me a wry smile. He and I both know that I am well aware of the outcome here, though he will have to wait like the rest of the country to learn the sex of the baby. Although Mary herself is queen in her own right, in Will’s opinion her grasp of state affairs seems to be in some doubt, and her political sense more than a little overshadowed by her questionable taste in men. He shares the common view that Scotland requires firm government, and that can best be provided by a strong, male heir.