Chapter 43

Teárlag sucked cock for the second time today, and McTavish was even nastier than Blackthorne, though larger in the prick department. Just her luck he wanted to use her ass. Blackthorne often did as well, but his puny prick was easier to abide in her ass. She wondered if she could get him to cum in her mouth and finish with him. If it had been a month, he very well might be capable of both despite his age. Blackthorne turned back to his ledger, uninterested in watching Teárlag service McTavish. He was pleasantly surprised to find her throat opening and taking him all the way in.

"I say, Lord Blackthorne," McTavish said. "Are you sure you didn't pluck her out of a whorehouse? She sucks cock like a professional."

"She wasn't good when she started," Blackthorne said, never looking up from his work. "I insist my sexual partners be able to fully swallow my cock. It took lots of practice and a few whippings before she became that proficient."

Sure that his cock was now wet enough to enter her ass, McTavish bent Teárlag over the back of the sofa like the first time Blackthorne whipped her. He placed his cock at the entrance of her puckered ass and pushed in, sinking to the depth of his cock in one long, steady shove. Teárlag whimpered in pain. He gave her almost no time to become accustomed to his size, before thrusting into her. Back and forth, from the flange of his cockhead until deeply rooted in her bottom, he plunged into her with increasing force. Her cunt was banging into the wooden edge of the sofa as he slammed into her, causing more discomfort.

"Hey, Blackthorne," McTavish said, pummeling her ass, "I know why I hate the Cameron's. Why do you hate them so much?"

Blackthorne stopped what he was doing and turned to watch McTavish as he fucked into Teárlag's well formed buttocks. He got a faraway look in his eye. Teárlag wanted to know too. Why did he hate them with such a burning passion?

"When I was young, there was a shipwreck off the coast. Only a few survived and were brought to Dervaig. Among them was a young Englishwoman, Beatrix. Her family was all dead in the same shipwreck. She was older than me by a few years, though still young and vibrant. I fell in love with her, as did many other lads. So did Jamison Cameron. She was a beauty, you see. When it appeared she was choosing Jamison, a man twice her age; I challenged him to a fight to win her hand. He handily disarmed me, spanked my bottom with the flat of his sword and told me not to play a man's game until I was out of diapers. Everyone laughed, the big man beating the young, green one. Even Beatrix laughed. I swore I would ruin him and his family if I took the rest of my life."

McTavish grunted as he thrust harder and faster, his belly slamming into her ass as he plowed her depths. Teárlag felt that his story explained a lot. He was putting the sins of the father onto the sons. Not that the father had really sinned. Given it was a duel, he'd have been justified in killing Blackthorne, but instead, he'd humiliated him in front of the girl he loved. It was by far the worst offense in Blackthorne's mind. If Beatrix had married him, someone Stuart's age, could have been Blackthorne's son.

"Aye. I could see that," McTavish panted, getting ready to pour out his seed. "Making fun of a man in love in front of the woman he loved. Hard to take."

He gave half dozen more plunges and Teárlag felt his cock swell in her bottom and the sensation of wetness flooding her rectum. She was nowhere near completion herself. Neither McTavish nor Calum much caring whether they satisfied their partner. McTavish gave another couple desultory pushes to expel the last of his cum, then pulled his cock out.

"Go ahead, clean it off," he said, "and keep going until I cum again. I've been without a woman a month and can use the relief.

No wonder, you pig, she thought, though she turned around and obediently cleaned his cock. It was far preferable to the alternative if she didn't obey. Not so much McTavish, but from Blackthorne, who'd given her to him. Blackthorne returned to his accounts, not even acknowledging her kneeling and servicing another man, totally indifferent to either her disgust or her shame. Her oral ministrations soon had McTavish hard again and he used her mouth and throat the same way he'd used her ass; fast and hard. He held her head firmly in his hands so he could fuck her mouth. She opened her throat and became a vessel for his lust. With any luck, he'd finish soon and go.

He grunted again, almost like the pig he was, and his cock swelled in her mouth. Without word or warning, he rammed his cock its full depth and she felt his cum splash down her throat. She was unable to taste it as it was halfway to her gullet as it left his cock. Just as well. The less she had to taste of McTavish, the better she liked it.

"Aye, your Ladyship, swallow it all." She felt the pulses of his cock against her tongue as each new jet of his cum inundated her throat. "That's right. Get every drop."

When comparing the brutal and uncaring way these two were treating her with the way Thorburn had; loved, wanted, desirable; they fell short. He had tried to ensure that she'd enjoyed their loving as much as he did. With McTavish and Blackthorne, she was nothing but a receptacle for their cum. She finished cleaning his cum from his cock and he dropped his kilt over his now limp member. Teárlag remained kneeling on the floor, waiting for another command from her Master.

"Thanks, Lord Blackthorne. That was a welcome relief," McTavish said. "I'll leave my men there when I vacate the property. If they offer any information that seems useful, I'll send word right away."

"Remember what you've agreed to, McTavish. No drinking or gambling unless I grant you express permission. Keep your mouth shut about our business and your use of Lady Mackintosh. You'll find me an implacable enemy if you cross me."

"You can depend on me," he said.

I doubt it, thought Blackthorne, ringing the bell for the butler, but we'll see.

When the butler knocked, Blackthorne told him to escort McTavish out.

After McTavish left, Teárlag asked Blackthorne if he was finished with her now and she could leave.

"Did you cum while he was fucking you?" Blackthorne asked.

"No, Master. He is not the lover you are." Neither of you are compared to Thorburn, she thought.

"Go get me my riding crop."

"My Master may do as he likes," Teárlag said, "but I would like to remind him I will see Thorburn in a few days. If he still hopes I seduce him, it would be best if I was not carrying my Master's marks on me when it occurred."

"You're right. Bring the paddle instead. It's in my bedroom. Any marks made by the paddle should be gone by Midsummer eve. I remind you, slave, that your cunt is mine. You may use any of your other holes to seduce young Laird Cameron."

"Yes, Master," she said, leaving to get the paddle from his bedroom. She hoped Thorburn had planted a baby in her womb and that Blackthorne would end up raising a Cameron bastard. He'd stuck his pathetic cock in her cunt often enough that even though he'd not climaxed in her, she could claim the child was his. It would serve him right for making her service the disgusting personage of McTavish.

It was much later and a much sorer Teárlag that made her way back through the dungeon to the underground passage. The servant girl was silent. Whether it was because she slept or died, was unknown to her. They were equally likely in her mind. It would be a painful journey back to Dervaig. She could not sit comfortably, so the carriage ride would be unbearable.

Isobel used the new steel sword Frang provided and was engaged in a series of advances and retreats with him, practicing the skills she'd learned. It surprised him she could withdraw as fast as he could advance. It was an amazing talent for a beginner to the sword. He wondered if her skill in escape was due to her having to avoid the attacks of her former husband. They worked for several hours and both were soaked in sweat when Frang said they finished.

While catching their breath, Frang asked, "Isobel, will you go to the McTavish property tomorrow when we take possession?"

"Will McTavish be there?"

"Aye, he will. He'll be taking personal belongings out of the manor house. We go to make sure he takes nothing not rightfully his."

"I'm not sure I care to see Abner McTavish anymore. I had enough of him when he was my husband. Has he granted me an annulment yet?"

"That's the other document he's providing tomorrow. I understand that the annulment's approved by the church. You needn't worry about McTavish anymore. He can't hurt you."

"Seeing him again is painful enough. I cannot abide looking at him."

"Stuart and Ailene go as well. She'll be administering to any of the ill and Stuart is a much better manager than I am. He'll be checking the status of the property with William and setting up a plan for administering the land and the tenants. I'm sure that Ailene will enjoy your company on the road. We have a point of contact nearby. They provided us with news and requests for additional aid. Perhaps you might stay there until McTavish leaves."

"I would see the tenants and servants again. I suppose I could tolerate one more glimpse of the man knowing it's my last."

"If I'm honest," he said, "I would enjoy your companionship too."

"Thank you. I'm not sure I'll be good company. I shall dread every minute until he disappears from my life."

They sat quietly a while longer, than Frang asked, "You retreat much faster than usual for a new fencer. I wondered about the source of this skill. Was it because you had to run from your husband?"

"I never ran from McTavish. When I tried early in my marriage, the consequences were so much worse if he chased me than if I withstood his anger as best I could. I don't know the reason for that skill. It comes to me what I must do and I do it. I can't say I even think of it. I do what I have to."

"It's a good skill to have. You should develop it if you can. If you can keep an opponent in front of you while retreating, it makes it difficult for them to come at you from the rear. Ailene has the skill as well; not as developed as yours, but getting better. She's more advanced in her sword skills. She's been working at it substantially longer, but you'll be joining the others the next time you practice, which is why you should wear this."