A Proper Scottish Wife Ch. 19

"Are you sure, Isobel. I'm still willing to wait. Only those closest to us know."

"We cannot pretend to be husband and wife in this house without every servant here eventually knowing we're not having sex yet. You know as well as I not all of them can be trusted. We need to consummate our marriage and fairly quickly. Believe me, I wouldn't ask this of you if I could see any way around it. Please, Frang, I know it's an unusual request, but I believe this will help me be the wife you want and deserve."

"I'll do as you request. Heaven knows my body aches for you."

"Then hurry, husband. I've tied ropes to the bed. I only need fasten them to you."

"You've planned for this then?"

"Aye. I want to experience pleasure with a man. I heard Stuart and Ailene in the next room in this very house and wished to know a small semblance of their love and affection. I've heard Teárlag scream to the heavens as she reached her climax. Why can't that be me? You've shown me a small part of how it can be between a man and a woman. I want to know all of it."

Stuart got out of the bath and dried off. Isobel preceded him to the bed and waited for him to approach. He saw the ropes tied to the bedposts. Isobel directed him to lie down on the bed, then beginning with his feet, tied him down, his erection staring up at her the whole time. When he was secure, he was spread eagled on the top of the covers, his cock standing strait and firm, not even quasi relaxed as it had been that morning. More sure of herself now and less worried how he might respond to her overtures, she reached for his cock, bending over it to look closer.

The head was like some mushrooms she'd seen, flaring over the shaft. It was red, almost purplish in color, the outer rim smooth and even except on the underside where it came together to form a heart. It descended down to the thick mass of black curls at the base, his sack hanging heavy between his legs. She began to stroke it like she had that morning and it got harder and thicker, though only slightly, the head swelling. She continued to stroke it until the bead of slick stuff appeared at the hole.

"What does it taste like?" Isobel asked.

"It doesn't taste like much of anything, to my knowledge," Frang replied, squirming at her touch.

Isobel touched it, getting a little on her finger and raised it to her tongue to test it. A small taste and it seemed bland, so she tried a little more, squeezing it from his shaft until another drop appeared. She bent over him and touched the tip of her tongue to it, his cock flaring as she did so.

"You're right, not much taste at all," she said.

She lowered her head and her mouth opened as she took the head inside. Her tongue swirled around the cap, exploring the crown. Frang groaned in pleasure.

Isobel lifted off him, continuing to stroke, and said, "When McTavish put his cock in my mouth, he'd push it in until I gagged. It was never pleasant. I always felt like I was choking and couldn't breathe. This isn't too bad."

She dipped her head again and took more of him this time. She felt him swell in her mouth as she tongued him. His hips were trying to thrust himself deeper in her mouth, but she held him down so could not.

"Isobel, it feels incredible," Frang panted. "You're doing great."

Isobel continued to bob her head over his cock, never taking him too deep, but her tongue and lips agile as she sucked his cock.

"You have me close to my climax, Isobel. I warn you if you're not prepared for it."

In response, she took him a little deeper, wringing another moan from him. Soon, she felt the head inflate in her mouth and it pulsed, sending his seed into her mouth. Ailene had been right. Having more control of the situation allowed Isobel to relax and enjoy this more. Even Frang cumming in her mouth had not bothered her. Not having a cock choking her throat when it released was a refreshing change as well. He was clean and smelled good. His seed had a salty taste, not interfered with by the stench of an rancid cock and sweaty, unclean balls. She continued to suck her husband until his cock stopped it's pulsing. She felt him shrinking in her mouth, his breathing ragged and heavy.

"Thank you," he whispered. "That was amazing."

She lifted up, licking her lips. "I'm glad you enjoyed that husband. I found more enjoyment in the act than I expected. Now perhaps you might lick me as you did this morning?"

"Are you going to release me?" Frang asked.

"Not yet," she whispered. "We're not done."

"How shall I do as you requested, Isobel?"

"I thought perhaps..." Isobel hiked up her nightgown and straddled his chest, her legs on either side of him. He was staring at her sex, mere inches from his mouth. "If you could make me wet so it doesn't hurt as we couple as you said is possible, Frang, I would seek to consummate our marriage."

Frang nodded, speechless. Isobel inched forward, parting herself for her husband. When she was right above him, he smelled her, the scent of her soap and the scent of her arousal. He lifted his head and kissed her, her parted lips. His tongue ran up her slit and she moaned, just as she'd made him moan. It gave him such gratification to be the source of her pleasure. He sought her core again, and she mewled at the ecstasy his tongue created in her. How was it possible she had never experienced this before? It seemed that all the Cameron men knew of this practice. All of the men she'd been forced to abide before, none of them had shown her this form of satisfaction before. Pain the only sensation they'd shown her. What men were the norm; the Cameron's or the McTavish's of the world?

She considered some of the other men she knew somewhat well. She gasped as Frang licked her pleasure button. Cyrus McTeague, a good man beloved of his wife. Bjarkë, unmarried, but the servant girls seemed to love him and he'd been kind and friendly to her. Other than those two and the Cameron's the only men she was familiar with were McTavish and his cronies. Perhaps she'd only been exposed to the wrong men. She moaned as his tongue penetrated her. She ground her hips against his mouth, panting, her nipples stiffened peaks almost painful in their tightness. She put her hands on her breasts, massaging them as Frang tantalized her molten center. She was so close to finding her peak.

Isobel was pressing so hard against Frang's mouth, rolling her hips against his lips to increase her pleasure. She gave a final moan as her orgasm overcame her, her legs shuddering as she spasmed over his mouth. He lapped up the fluids leaking from her sex and she mewled in excitement, overcome with emotions. She started crying.

"What is it, my love? Why are you crying?"

"Look at me; what a mess I am. I have to tie my husband in order to have sex with him, to consummate our marriage. Yet today, you've given me more satisfaction than I've ever had. It was astounding, what you've shared with me, but I'm afraid of you. I cannot imagine being with you, married again. I wonder which is the more accurate picture I have of men; the one I have of you and your family and Cyrus McTeague, or the one I have of McTavish and his friends. They were all I knew for years and now I've met you and I don't know which is real?"

"I'd try to hold you, my love, but I'm a little tied up right now, but can't we all be real?"

Isobel laughed. She slid down his body and kissed him, his lips damp with her fluids, extending even to the tip of his nose and down to his chin.

"What do you mean?" Isobel asked.

"Can't we all be real? That there are both good and bad people in this world and you can't judge all of us by a few. You can't judge every man you meet on the basis of McTavish, nor should you judge them all on the basis of me or my family. I would expect you to be cautious regarding anyone you met until you know who they are. Some will be worth knowing and others should be forgotten as soon as you meet them. I'm not perfect and I don't claim to be. I have made mistakes and I expect I'll make more. There is only one thing I would ask you to remember. Any mistake I make, any error of commission or omission won't be because I don't care for you, but because I'm human and will make slips. I will do my utmost to defend you, to guard you, to love you, and if I make a blunder, you will forgive me because I did not intend to harm you."

Isobel looked down at him; his face smeared and messy, a half-grin on his lips, love and earnestness in his eyes. She gave him another kiss.

She wiped her eyes. "So, I'm to forgive you if you mess up because it's unintentional on your part and because you love me?"

"Aye. Though it would help if you also loved me. It's always easier to forgive the ones you love."

"I see. It's not enough I take you as husband; you expect me to love you too."

"That would be the ideal outcome." Frang smiled up at her.

Isobel glanced behind her.

"I see you have found it within yourself to become erect again."

Frang grinned. "You may never know the joy it gives me to pleasure you, Isobel. It's difficult to see your look of ecstasy when you release and not become excited myself. The entire experience, the sight of you closing your eyes as you spend, the sounds you make, your taste, your scent, the feel of your warm, dampness against my lips and tongue. Those things combine to arouse me. I want you to feel it over and over again, until you melt."

"Melting; tis the word for it. You've made me melt for certain." She rubbed at the fluids on his face. "Seems I've melted all over you."

Isobel raised up and pulled the nightgown from her body, exposing herself fully to Frang. She stroked his cock perched at her backside until it was fully hard.

"It's time to make our marriage legal, my husband."

She centered his sword at the entrance to her sheath. She sank slowly over him, still expecting there to be some pain as he entered her, but there was no hurt. It was as God intended. She felt her lips part for him as she surrounded his cock, but without pain, merely a comfortable pressure as he easily slid into the wetness he'd created. Frang was correct. There could be pleasure between husband and wife if they but took the time to arouse the other and it felt so good as he penetrated her body; a pleasing fullness. Sliding farther on his cock, she was surprised when she was sitting on his hips, his instrument fully lodged in her without discomfort.

"Mmmm," she murmured, "It's never felt this good to have a cock in me before. It seems you were right, Frang. I am a normal woman who can couple with a man." She leaned down until her breasts swayed over his face. "Lick my breasts, husband."

Frang suckled first one nipple, then the other and Isobel began to rock on him, fucking him for the first time. There were no sounds but the squelching sounds of her liquefied cunt slapping against him as she rose and fell on his cock. Gradually, both began to moan as they felt their peaks get close. Isobel rocked harder on Frang, sliding back and forth, her hips rolling to capture every inch of him within her. Panting, she leaned down for another kiss, gasping as he touched a new part in her.

Suddenly, she released and Frang felt her spasms clenching his cock in a liquid embrace, exquisite in her softness. He thought to warn her of his own impending release, realized she could not become more pregnant than she was and laughing, felt his cock throb within her as his orgasm struck and his milky cream shot into her beautiful body. Her clenching muscles sought to draw all of his essence deep inside her core.

"Are you laughing at me, Frang? Do you find our coupling funny, Lord Cameron?"

Even through her indignation, her sheath clasped at his cock, draining him.

"Nay, love. I'm not laughing at you," Frang said.

"Why do you laugh then?"

"I thought to warn you of my imminent climax so you could remove yourself from my cock in order to avoid pregnancy, my love, then realized that cow has already left the barn." Frang laughed again, hearty, happy peals of laughter.

Isobel realized what he was saying and started to laugh with him, her laughter causing further convulsions on his cock; such a pleasing squeeze on his shaft he wanted to make her laugh again.

He waited until his prick was shrinking and it began to leave her body before asking if she could release his arms and legs.

"While I've enjoyed the novelty of coupling this way, my arms and legs become tired of remaining so long in the same position. However, should you need the comfort provided by my bonds to ease your fear again tomorrow morning, leave them attached to the bedposts so you can secure me again. I will happily submit to you as long as you need it to overcome your dread of me."

"We'll see," Isobel said, starting to untie her knots. "Since I was able to enjoy my husband without pain or discomfort, perhaps I won't need to tie you down next time."

"As long as you need, Isobel. Our agreement holds. It doesn't change because you found a way through your fear this time. I am your servant, at your beck and call. I shall not push for more than you can give."

Isobel finished releasing him and he turned to face her. He kissed her forehead, her eyebrows, her eyelids, her nose, and finally her lips. Even in that, he demanded nothing. He did not force her lips apart so he could invade her mouth with his tongue, merely soft gentle kisses telling her without words of his love. Feeling for the first time in years the comfort and love of a good man, she snuggled into his arms and fell into a dreamless sleep without any of her normal tension. Frang gathered her in his arms felt her relax into sleep, her breathing soft on his chest. He kissed her on the top of her head and joined her in sleep.

******

There was a knock on Stuart's and Ailene's door around 10 PM. Stuart got up to answer while Ailene pulled the covers over herself. Stuart wrapped a cloth around his waist, knotting it before answering the door.

"Why are you bothering us so late?"

"Lord Cameron, the perimeter guards found someone coming to the Keep; a woman. I believe you and Lady Cameron should come. She's gravely injured."

"Who is it?"

"We believe it's the maid, Màiri, who's been missing."

"Màiri!" Said Ailene from the bed.

"You believe it is, why don't you know?" Stuart asked.

"She's been horribly disfigured, my Lord and she's unconscious and cannot speak. To tell the truth Lord, tis hard to be sure it's even a woman. Both of her breasts have been removed."

Ailene's hand went over her mouth. "Oh, no," she whispered. "Pray it's not so."

"Has Lord Thorburn been notified?"

"Aye, Lord. He's dressing now."

"We'll be down shortly, as soon as we're dressed."

"The Lady may want to bring what medicines she can. I've never seen anything so bad. Most of the men saw her, lost their suppers. Please hurry." He rushed off.

Stuart closed the door. Ailene was out of the bed in an instant, throwing on a thick night dress and a robe. She grabbed some bandages she'd been rolling earlier, her most common salves and creams which she kept handy for cuts and burns. She told Stuart to wake the cook and have water heated and to have the woman brought into the kitchen with as many candles and lamps as could be found. Stuart nodded and left as soon as he had some clothes on, breeches and shirt, going barefoot to do her bidding. Ailene grabbed what she could and ran down the stairs, seeking the kitchen to see if hot water might be available and expecting her patient to be brought there shortly.

There was a pot of water near the fire, but it sounded like she might need more. The cook arrived first and put more water on the fire. Not long afterwards, Stuart and a bevy of servants started bringing in lamps and candles. Ailene directed them to be lit and placed around a large table which she was clearing. She sent one of the maids to grab bed linens, as many as possible, to place on the table to make the hard surface more comfortable.

Thorburn came walking into the kitchen with a limp scrap of a girl cradled in his arms. There were tears in his eyes. Ailene had never seen him cry before. She had Thorburn hold her until the bedding was placed on the table, then he set her on the table, as gentle as a feather. Ailene looked at her face and gasped. Never had she seen such a conglomeration of cuts and burns on a face before. She was wrapped in a guard's cloak. Ailene pulled the cloak carefully back and immediately upon seeing the poor girl's body, bent over beside the table and heaved up her last meal. As soon as she had no more to come up, she wiped her lips off and turned back to the poor unfortunate soul lying on the table.

"Clear the room except for those holding lights and the cook, Thorburn. No one else should have to see this."

Thorburn gave the order and even he looked green and he'd been on multiple battlefields. Most of those holding the lights were turned away and she heard a few more vomiting.

Ailene took stock of the damage. The person was missing several fingers and toes, which looked to have been cauterized after with open flames. The skin looked black and crusted around the places missing digits. Her other fingers were malformed and misshapen, having been broken and never set. The guard had been right. The breasts had been removed and flesh seared with red hot metal to stem the bleeding. There were burn marks all over her body. One eye was missing, gouged or burned out from appearances. A knee and a shoulder looked dislocated, most of the other joints appeared swollen. Some of the teeth had been roughly pulled out, the tip of her nose was missing. Whip marks crisscrossed the body where she wasn't burned, some of which had horribly torn the skin. It looked as though she'd been raped with a rough object, as she couldn't imagine a body part to have left this kind of damage behind. Her palms and knees were abraded and bleeding as if she'd crawled across rocks. Never had Ailene seen a human body subjected to such abuse. Pigs and cows in the slaughtering pens looked better. Who could possibly have treated another human in such a way?

She took the water from the fire and slowly started washing away the dirt and blood.

"Who found her?" Thorburn asked.

"I did, Lord Thorburn, about a mile from the Keep," a guard without a cloak said. "I saw something white in the shadows and looked to see what it was and I found her like this, naked and bleeding. I brought her back immediately."

"Has anyone else been sent out to replace you?" Thorburn said, concerned it might be a distraction preparatory to an attack.

"Yes, Lord. The Captain of the Guard immediately sent out five more replacements and he put more people on the wall as well."

Satisfied they wouldn't be surprised, Thorburn asked, "Did she speak at all?"

"She was asleep or unconscious when I found her. I shook her shoulder to waken her and she immediately started hitting and kicking at me, saying not a word. I told her she needn't fear, she was on Cameron land and would be protected. She quit fighting and croaked, 'Take me to the Keep,' then passed out again. She hasn't spoken another word."

"Can you help her, Ailene?" Stuart inquired.

"It's a wonder she's not dead," Ailene said. "I've never seen worse injuries before. Every inch of her has been harmed or damaged in some way. Whether I can do anything is unknown. Only God may be able to help her now. I'll do the best I can."

"Is it Màiri?" Stuart asked.

"I'm not sure. She's the right height and apparent hair color; but even her hair is dirty and bloody. She's so horribly disfigured, I cannot say."

As gentle as Ailene tried to be, the girl moaned and flinched every time she was touched, never fully regaining consciousness, but clearly in pain, even in her comatose state.