Part I continued...

Cariad hummed a “yes, miss” that seemed to spur Archie into action. He took Siouxie’s gun, then told the driver to get in the cab and lie down with his wrists together, behind his back. Having obeyed, the driver soon found himself lying face down with an uncomfortable erection, hogtied and alone.

Inwardly, Cariad whimpered as she heard Archie approach, but she need not have worried about him. He only had eyes for Siouxie. Without any warning, and from behind her back, he tugged off his belt and whipped it hard across Siouxie’s rear. Cariad yelped in alarm, though she was in no danger. She did, however, sense the gentle moistness in Siouxie’s vagina become a little more pronounced.

Suddenly, Cariad felt a little more resistance. When she pushed her tongue into Siouxie’s slit, there was a push back. A quick glance to the side showed her what was happening. Archie had crouched down behind his friend, and was sliding two fingers into her bottom.

Siouxie purred loudly at the touch of the willing and unwilling upon her, and began to lose herself in the moment. She interlaced her fingers around the back of Cariad’s head, and cradled her in place, severely restricting her ability to breathe properly whilst licking. Siouxie had no sympathy, however, and ground her cunt against Cariad’s chin, and urged Archie to “get out your fricking cock and stick it up my hole”.

Archie, apparently, liked to tease. He did not stick anything up anyone. Instead, he took his belt, and wrapped it around Siouxie’s neck, tightening it hard. Cariad wondered what the hell was going on, but realised quickly that there was a reason. She understood when Siouxie’s knees buckled, and she yelped with an uproarious orgasm that echoed throughout the forest.

“Th-thank you,” Siouxie whispered to Archie.

“You’re welcome. Get your pants on, and tie up the whore.”

“Yes,” sighed Siouxie obediently. She picked up Archie’s belt, and pushed Cariad to the floor. Squelching in the mud, Cariad tried to remain quiet as her wrists were bound behind her back. One thought came to mind – where the hell was Julia Trulia?

She was shoved into the cab, and tied back to back with the driver. Neither was going anywhere, all they could do was sit and listen to the yelps and obscene chants from their captors.

They were driven to a small camp, which was surprisingly well-equipped for captives. Before Cariad could realise where she was, she had been locked into a very public cage. Her driver was placed in a similar one, and there was an array of half a dozen other cages, but only one occupant, a middle-aged man with no distinguishing features.

Cariad rattled the cage a little, but not too much because she did not want to draw too much attention to herself. She looked down at her stained, ruined dress, ran her fingers through her dirty-black hair, and sat down. There were a suspicious number of rough-looking men, and a few women who appeared to be rougher still. The women were taking great delight in tormenting the poor middle-aged man, throwing sticks at him and ordering him to expose himself to them.

She promised herself that she would not be so meek. When they finally came, both the men and the women, she ignored them all. They had clearly been given instructions not to harm her, but their taunts were vicious and graphic.

Then, then she saw Siouxie. She emerged from her tent, wiping her mouth, it did not take Cariad long to guess that Archie would be sleeping with a heartily-sucked cock right now. The gang leader glanced around her camp, then caught Cariad’s eye. Slowly, sleekly, she padded over to her cage, grabbing three men to help her.

“Get her out.”

The cage was unlocked, and a bald savage reached in to grab Cariad. After a bite and a slap, he got a grip of her hair, and dragged her out. The other men now joined in, one slipped a hand down the front of her dress, another ran his hand up the inside of her thigh, rubbing his thumb on the crease of her vulva.

“Bend her over the cage.”

Cariad was pushed face down, her waist on the edge of the cage. The bald chap held one arm and her neck, a hairier gentleman on the other side kept her other arm and her hair in a firm grip. But it was the woman behind her that scared Cariad.

“Lift up her dress.”

The third man peeled up the hemline of her skirt, and Cariad felt a fresh breeze on her bottom. It did not last long.

THWACK!

Eight strands of a birch hit her cheeks within a split-second of each other. Cariad, despite her bravery, could not help herself. She roared out a plaintive scream.

“No, no, please…” she whimpered.

THWACK!

The second stroke was even worse, it criss-crossed against the welts of the first, and a stray strand hit her right in the centre of her ass.

“Please god, S-S-Siouxie, please no m-more.”

Siouxie did not say a word, but scraped her fingernails hard down one cheek and up the other. This produced a hoarse scream that sent shivers down two of the men.

Then Cariad began to weep, as the fingernails stopped. She knew what was coming. And it came.

“NoooooooooooooooaaaAHAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!” she yelled, her eyes bursting open and bulging.

“Good,” said Siouxie. “I think I can now ask you a question.”

“Wh-what is it? P-please,” dribbled Cariad pathetically.

“The question is simple. Do you renounce your title and give your wealth to us?”

Cariad blinked, and found new reserves of strength and defiance. She was a princess. “Thou willst not maketh me sign,” she snarled. “I may have the body of a cute little charmer of a woman, but I have the heart of a lion that has eaten plenty of fucking zebra.”

“Strip her,” ordered Siouxie curtly.

The bald gentleman pulled Cariad upright. He tugged the dress off her, up over her head, and Cariad blushed hotly, naked for the first time, her bare skin on display, in front of three sadistic men and a deranged woman, the most dangerous of all. The bald man laughed at her expression. He was the first to die.

“Wha?” was his last word, as an arrow pierced his spine, shooting so far through his body and it prodded out of his chest.

Cariad dropped to the floor and curled into a ball, as the chaotic scene played out. From the flashes of the fight she saw, she imagined an army of thirty men who had come to save her.

“Nope,” said a friendly voice when she was told the coast was clear. “Not thirty. Just me, your duchess chum.”

“What? How?” asked Cariad.

“Simple,” said Julia Trulia, with a grin as wide and suspicious as ever. “I seduced the guards one by one, using my feminine wiles. Then I freed your driver, or I tried to, at least. He thought it was a trap. I had to seduce him too, to prove it wasn’t. Then we freed that guy in the cage, and oh my fucking lord, but he turns out to be a deadly bastard with the arrows.”

Cariad looked again. Each of the vagabonds had been struck down by a single arrow or two. Archie had six arrows sticking out of him, and Julia Trulia explained that he had refused to die until he had crawled to be with Siouxie.

“How touching.”

“Damn skippy,” sniffed Julia Trulia. “But I’m glad we got him, it’s all down to Ernie with the bow.”

Ernie waved lustily at Cariad, who curtsied in response.

“I’m eternally grateful – he’ll be knighted like a conquering hero. Still,” frowned Cariad, “it’s a shame your dress is ruined. Must have been the nettles.”

Julia Trulia looked down at herself. Vast rips revealed large expanses of taut, bare flesh. Her legs were completely bare, one buttock was mostly revealed, and it was only due to a fluke that her nipples were covered by a thin, ragged ribbon.

“Yeah,” hummed Julia Trulia, “those nettles. Yep. Still, what are you going to do? God, look at your dress – it’s even worse than mine.”

Cariad held the rag in her hand. “I’ve still got two spares, courtesy of Mr Sloth,” sighed Princess Cariad. She cast the dress to the floor and walked away. She did not see the grass underneath the dress magically wither and die.

End of Part I