The Devil's Surrogate (23 page)

Kitty made no
attempt to resist as Daniel turned her about and looped the cord
around her wrists, drawing her winged arms behind her back and
securing them with a quick knot. Turning her again, he placed a
hand carefully on each of her exposed breasts, and then gently
squeezed them so her bell-hung nipples protruded from between his
thumbs and forefingers.

'Pretty
titties indeed.' He shook them so the bells tinkled quietly.

From behind
her mask Kitty stared back into his eyes, her breathing steady and
noisy through the nostril openings, her mouth distended by the
tightly buckled gag.

'Time nearly to take you back, my gorgeous little fucky bird,'
Daniel chuckled. Kitty's gaze was unblinking. 'But first,' he
continued, reaching around her to locate the buckle that held the
gusset strap in place, 'I think we've got time for a little
stuffing of our own.' The strap fell away to hang between them and
the front dildo slid easily out between Daniel's fingers. He held
it up. The leather covering glistened in the greenish light
filtering through the foliage high above them. 'Oh dear,' he
chuckled, 'you
do
seem to have got yourself into a state.' He let the thing fall
to the ground and reached back between her thighs, feeling her
warmth and the wetness that had seeped past the strap. He sniffed,
smelling her arousal. 'Down we go,' he whispered, grasping her
upper arms and pushing her backwards.

Obligingly,
Kitty sank to the ground and lay back, immediately opening her legs
for him, her large breasts spreading upon her chest among the gaudy
feathers.

'More than a
mouthful there, I think,' Daniel muttered as he tugged at his belt.
'And a nice warm scabbard for my sword, I reckon.' His breeches
were about his knees and his penis already fully erect. Without
further ado, he sank to his knees and leaned over her, supporting
his weight with his left arm while with his right hand he grasped
his shaft and guided the head of it to her opening. He lowered his
head further, drawing her right nipple into his mouth as at the
same time he began to enter her.

Instantly,
Kitty's back arched and her legs twined themselves about his
thighs, seeking to pull him in deeper with a ferocious urgency.
Daniel sucked harder, pushing steadily and savouring the steady
entrance rather than thrusting quickly. 'Lovely,' he breathed, and
began to pump in and out of her, letting himself rest squarely upon
the cushion of her soft breasts. There was no tremendous hurry;
after he came quickly during this first round, there should still
be time to enjoy a second, more relaxed coupling before it was time
to get her into the cart.

The explosion
came quickly, but when it did it was not the orgasmic release he
was expecting. Instead, bright and fiery lights erupted before his
eyes, and there was just time enough for Daniel to register the
searing pain spreading from the back of his head before a deep,
velvety blackness rose up to claim him.

'You're lying
to me, slut!' Adam Portfield roared. 'And I won't have slaves
thinking they can lie to me!' The whip snaked out, cracking as it
wrapped about Sarah's naked and sweat-drenched body.

She screamed,
jumping in the air and trying to skip away across the floor to
escape the next blow. 'No,' she wailed, turning around and backing
herself up against the wall, her hands held protectively over her
breasts. 'No please, master, I swear it! I don't know who they
were! They were just two men and a lad!'

'Liar.' Adam's
whip whistled across the gap between them. This time only the tip
caught her, but it was a deliberate aim and a small red line
erupted just beneath her navel.

Sarah shrieked
as she fell to her knees, clutching the injured area with both
hands and lowering her shaven head in an attitude of submission.
'Please,' she wailed, sobbing in terror. 'I didn't know them. I
don't know them.'

Adam paused,
studying her critically. Perhaps she was telling the truth. But why
would three men, or rather two men and a lad, come here deep inside
the Grayling estate and just happen upon her and Ross? And why
would they then, having dealt with Ross so efficiently, leave the
wench here alone? Perhaps they intended to return for her later? He
pursed his lips, concentrating. He was alone with her now, unarmed
except for his knife and the whip, and if there were indeed
intruders wandering the woods, it might be a bad move on his part
to try to get back to the house, or to find help from the main
barn. Alone, he could probably make a break through the trees and
keep ahead and clear of any strangers, but that would mean leaving
the girl behind, and if they did manage to return and take her,
that could bring all manner of trouble. She had been unlawfully
abducted, not bought cheaply in the slave auctions like the
majority of the girls. If he took her with him, it would slow his
progress as well as hand her over to the unknown intruders on a
plate if they caught up with him in the open.

He needed to
know more, to wait and consider and not rush his decision. The barn
was a solid building, the only windows small and set high beneath
the eaves, and the outer door was solid, not easily broken through.
The place had never been locked from the outside since it was first
built, but there was a timber bar for securing it from within which
had never been used. He peered sideways at Ross. The younger man
still lay motionless, so it was unlikely Adam could count on help
from him in the near future. For the moment he was on his own and
that left only one sensible option.

'Don't move!'
he barked at the still kneeling Sarah. 'Stay exactly where you
are.' He wheeled around and strode out and along the passageway to
the outer door. With a sigh of relief, he saw the locking bar was
there propped up in the corner. He peered outside cautiously. The
ground in front of the barn was deserted but the screen of trees
some fifty yards away now seemed somehow darker and more
menacing.

Without
further delay, Adam dropped the whip to the ground and sprang
forward, dragging the first door closed, his heart pounding both
from the effort of swinging the heavy timbered structure and from
the fear that at any moment the intruders might return and spring
upon him. The door banged hollowly against the top frame and
already he had seized its mate. The hinges groaned a little from
lack of use, but he had it moving now. The door slammed closed with
a dull, booming thud, and then the bar was in his hands, dropping
solidly into the locking slots. He stepped back, breathing hard but
flushed with success.

Whoever was
out there, if indeed they still were, would not be getting inside
in a hurry. He had bought himself time, time to question the girl
more thoroughly and time for his, and Ross's, absence to be
noticed. It was beginning to grow dark outside. Darkness could be
his ally as well as his enemy. If he was not back at the house, or
at the main barn, within an hour of nightfall, others would start
to worry. Daniel would know he should have been back, as he always
was, before the evening festivities began, and they would send men
out to search for him, especially when they realised Ross was also
missing.

'Let's find
ourselves a lantern or two first,' he muttered, stooping to
retrieve the discarded whip. 'We'll get ourselves some nice cosy
light, and then we'll find out just how much the little slut really
knows.'

Paddy Riley
stood back against the nearest tree, musket at the ready, as Sean
bent over their latest victim binding his wrists and ankles. A few
feet away, Kitty lay on her back moaning softly into her gag.

'This is
getting feckin' ridiculous, Paddy,' Sean complained, tying off the
final knot with a fierce jerk. 'We're collecting these buggers like
they're going out of fashion.' He peered back over his shoulder,
his eyes all but hidden by the black mask he now wore. 'I make that
two girls and two fellows here, plus one more girl and one more
fellow we've left back at that barn.'

'Well, we'll
gag this one and leave him here,' Paddy replied. 'I'd leave the two
wenches, too, but I'd not be able to face meself in the morning if
we didn't at least try to get them out of this hellhole of a place.
At least we've got ourselves some transport now,' he added, trying
to sound cheerful.

'Yeah, and
look at the size of it,' Sean said derisively. 'Me mammy used to
push a wheelbarrow not much short of that thing. And that nag looks
half dead, I reckon.'

'He looks it,
and I feel it,' Paddy said wearily. 'Now, quit blabbering and let's
get your man there off the trail and into the bushes, then we can
get our wench up and into the wagon and try to get it turned around
and head back towards the barn. It'll be a squeeze, but I reckon we
can fit the third girl and the wee lad in the back. You and me can
sit up front. That way, dressed as we are, anyone sees us they'll
think we're just going about our rightful business, or what passes
for rightful business in this place.' He looked up at the sky
between the overhanging branches. 'It'll be dark in another half an
hour, or thereabouts. That means we'll have to watch ourselves
until we get onto a wider track, but it also means we can probably
get right up to the guard the lad says they keep on the main gate
and jump the buggers before they know what's happening.'

'The boy
reckons there's usually four or five of them,' Sean reminded him,
standing up and stretching his back. 'And there's just the two of
us,' he added unnecessarily.

Paddy stifled a yawn and lowered his musket. 'But
we're
proper soldiers,
Sean my boy. And apart from having the element of surprise, as my
old captain used to keep going on about, I reckon I've got an idea
of how we can level up those odds a bit. Let's get back to the barn
where we left the boy and I'll show you a little trick I picked up
in the days when we were still fighting Charlie boy's
royalists.'

'Now then, you
lying little whore,' Adam growled, 'let's see if we can't get to
the truth of the matter.' He finished buckling the second ankle
strap and straightened up, stepping back to take in the full
picture of helplessness he had created. Ross was most certainly, he
thought, a very inventive young man.

Sarah sat
perched upon a high stool to the back of which had been attached a
sturdy upright post. It was a similar construction to the device
upon which Ross had secured her earlier, except the seat was plain
and much higher, and the cross member for securing her wrists was
only at waist level. This time her legs were dragged back and
secured at the ankles to a second cross member a foot or so below
the other, forcing her thighs wide apart and fully displaying her
open sex. It was a most uncomfortable position in itself, without
any additional punishment being inflicted, and Adam could see how
an hour or so in the clutches of this particular seat might reduce
even the most stubborn slave to something approaching
obedience.

On the bench
at the rear of the room, however, he had already spied something
else which, when added to the muscle-wracking discomfort of Sarah's
current position, he was more than confident would expedite matters
nicely. As he stepped over and picked up the artificial phallus to
examine it more closely, he knew he was right. The instrument had
been carved with exquisite care from what appeared to be ebony, and
was, he thought, a work of art produced by a craftsman of the
highest calibre. It measured a good twelve inches in length with a
diameter of perhaps a quarter of that, and its entire surface was
covered in spiked protuberances whose points had just barely been
rounded off. The insertion of such a weapon would be a far from
pleasant experience for the victim, and as he walked back and held
it up before Sarah's face, the horror in her eyes told him she
understood this even better than he did.

'Now then,
missy,' he sneered, turning the polished and knobbed surface over
and over in his hands to toy with her terror, 'let's see how that
hungry little pussy of yours likes this as a friend.' He leaned
forward and extended the tip of the shaft until it was nestling
between the parted lips of her sex.

Instinctively,
Sarah tried to draw back, but the rigidity of her bondage made it
impossible for her to move more than the merest fraction of an
inch. 'Please,' she whimpered, tears forming in her eyes and her
lower lip quivering with terrified anticipation. 'Master, no.'

'But yes, I
think.' Adam began pushing the dreadful thing into her.

She gave
another little shriek and her eyes rolled up away from the sight of
what was being done to her.

He pressed
still further and the first knobs began to dig into her tender
inner flesh. He saw a sudden change of expression on her face,
wondered for just a brief moment if the bitch was actually
beginning to enjoy this torture, and then realised she was looking
past him. It took another split second for the significance of this
to register, and then he was turning, but it was already too late.
He lifted one arm defensively, opening his mouth to yell out
defiantly, but the length of timber in the lad's hands was heavy
and swinging in a fast arc. The last thing Adam Portfield heard in
the instant before the makeshift club shattered the side of his
skull was the high-pitched curse that issued from his youthful
assailant's lips.

It took
several minutes for Paddy and Sean to turn the little wagon around.
The soft soil away from the path meant they were forced to unhitch
the elderly horse and drag the vehicle around by hand, but at last
they completed the task, and after another minute or so spent
regaining their breath, they led the docile animal back between the
shafts.