A HIGHLAND TALE 10/?

BY LEELEE AND SEEKERONE
RATING: Oh I'd say NC-40 should do it, NC-17 is just too mild 
particularly for this chapter.
CATEGORY: Sc/Sk, Mulder/OF/OM
COMMENTS:  Thanks to Sylvie, not only for her superb beta, but her 
suggestions for this chapter that got me off dead center.  This is a 
better story because of you and any remaining errors are all ours. 
REDEAMING SOCIAL VALUE (CAN BE SKIPPED BY THOSE NOT INTERESTED IN 
ADDITIONAL EDUCATION. A few tidbits of extra knowledge: The "sgain 
dubh," or black knife, is a small knife worn on the right leg, tucked 
between the stocking and the leg. Originally the sgain dubh was 
hidden somewhere on the highlander's body, later it became tradition 
to wear it in the sock to show friendliness i.e. you are showing 
others where your knife is, so are not hostile.
The average person in the medieval period had no concept of time as 
we know it.  Many serfs didn't even know what year it was, much less 
the hours of the day.  The time periods mentioned in this story were 
taken from the monastic "offices" or services of the medieval 
churches. Tierce was about 9:00 in the morning and None was about 
3:00 in the afternoon. 
Greaves were thick shin protectors, an integral part of a warrior's 
armor. They could be made of leather or metal. 
The baldric was a thick belt worn across the chest.  It helped to 
hold and balance a soldier's heavy scabbard and sword in place at his 
waist.  The broadsword could also be carried across the back like a 
quiver of arrows.  Enough education, on to the smut. 
SUMMARY: Mulder and Jamie are punished for their part in the escapade.
SPOILERS:  Don't think so.  Sort of our own little AU.
DISCLAIMERS:  You really think they're ours?  You're crazier than we 
are!  The holy trinity of you-know-who belongs to CC and Company.  
Except for the historical characters, everybody else came from our 
overactive imaginations and libidos.
ARCHIVE: We'd love it.  As long as you take the whole thing and let 
us know so we can come visit.
WARNING:  This is a very intense chapter with whipping, extra 
helpings on smut and one or two really extreme acts.  Definite BDSM 
elements.  You are warned! Note to younger members on the list.  This 
is an NC-17 story.  If you are underage, please leave now.  You will 
be carded.  I don't want to hear from you and I don't want to hear 
from your momma.
FEEDBACK: Worshipped, adored, read and reread again and again.  Drop 
us a note and let us know what you think:  clueseek@swbell.net   
Viceyy@aol.com And, until we get our long delayed web site up, if 
you'd like to have new chapters sent right to you, send an e-mail to: 
slswa-subscribe@yahoogroups.com and subscribe to our broadcast list.


Chapter 10  

THE GUARD ROOM

The soft, feminine voice echoed in the dark, empty, guard 
room. "Donald?  Donald? Where ar' ye?" the plaintive call 
repeated.  "Ah, merciful St. Peter help us, wha' ha' we done?" 

RHIANNON'S SOLAR

The solar was dim and cool in the early evening, Rhiannon observed, 
puzzled. Why the devil hadn't Isabel freshened the room, as was her 
wont of the evening?  Where were the candles and torches?  Even Jamie 
was a murky shadow standing by the fireplace. He looked big, like a 
rocky crag, solid, safe, towering over the mortals around him. All 
right Rhiannon, my girl, she thought.  Take charge, you stand for The 
McKinnon.  Jamie was in the wrong.  He deserves what's coming to him 
as much as Fox does.

"Jamie, stir up the fire and put more logs on. I would have light and 
heat,"  she commanded and impatiently slapped her leather gloves 
against her thigh. Her long, muddy skirts rustled among the rushes as 
she moved into the room.  Where the devil was that fool gel anyway?  
It was her responsibility to have the chamber ready for her Lady's 
comfort in the evening.  Even the silver basin of water on her table 
was cold.  The click of a chain from behind her quickly banished all 
thoughts of her handmaiden's shortcomings. 

"Fox, place the iron in the brazier, " she said, pointing to the 
large bronze container sitting on a tripod. It had been a gift from 
her late husband, and always stood beside the table. The heavy vessel 
was used for extra light and warmth in the winter.  "Then, stand 
before me, both of you," she ordered as she tossed her leather gloves 
onto the table.

The fire in the hearth was catching and the large copper hood over 
the fireplace was beginning to reflect heat back into the room.  
Rhiannon ignored the two waiting men as she took a burning twig from 
the fire and began to light the candles.  The room took on a warm 
glow as the scent of beeswax mixed with the stronger smell of pine 
logs burning.  She took the last bit of the twig and dropped it on 
the oak chips and incense in the brazier and watched for a moment as 
they sprang to life.  The flames lighted her dark hair as she gently 
blew on the tinder.

She paused for another moment, looking down at the table, and smiled 
to herself at the tools Fergus had selected. He was obviously 
protecting his Lady from the consequences of her own temper. The whip 
was one he used on the hounds.  Long and springy.  It would sting 
like a switch, but wouldn't break the skin.  

The branding iron Fox had brought up from the great hall would leave 
a mark not much larger than her thumb. It was used to mark the 
bindings on the leather books for her library. Fergus must have sent 
a boy to the tanner to get it. It would take a while to heat, she 
reflected, and there were other things to attend to first.

"Strip," she commanded coolly, staring at Jamie. 

The man glared back at her for a moment, his green eyes glowing like 
a cat.  He slowly nodded. "As my Lady commands," he purred 
sarcastically.

Then, by St. Maronius, if he didn't begin slowly shedding his 
clothes, like a pleasure boy she had once see at the English court.  
His very attitude was defiant as the heavy wet kilt slid to the 
floor. The sgain dubh that he always carried strapped to his leg 
rattled as he tossed the leather sheath on the dark oak table. He 
unbuckled the heavy leather baldric that crossed his chest and threw 
it down with the empty scabbard gaping.    

Jamie paused, looking at Rhiannon in a silent contest of wills, then 
he grinned at her and moved back to the big table.  He sat down in 
her large chair as if it were his.  He arrogantly pulled off his 
thick leather greaves which protected his shins, while his green eyes 
dueled with hers.  He untied his boots, grabbed the heel and tugged 
them off. They landed in the rushes, a loud thudding sound echoing in 
the silent chamber. He stood again, clad only in a fine linen shirt. 
Rhiannon felt her mouth go dry even as she felt her body responding. 
Finally, he stood, slowly unlaced his shirt at the neck and cuffs, 
and pulled it leisurely over his head. Unnoticed, it joined the other 
castoffs in a pile on the floor.

Calmly, as if he was accustomed to being naked in her solar, as if he 
belonged here, he stood and strolled toward her. "Do you approve my 
Lady?" he inquired. 

Oh yes, she approved, Rhiannon thought as her heart pounded like a 
highland war drum.  His shoulders were heavily muscled from a 
lifetime spent in arms and in the saddle.  Dark hair occasionally 
mixed with gray matted his chest. Slim waist and fine hips.  And, a 
big thick manhood jutting out, as proud and haughty as its owner. 

Rhiannon tossed her head.  Very well, Sir Captain.  Two can play at 
your little nighttime swordfight, she thought, deciding to take up 
his challenge. She crossed her arms in front of her chest to hide 
their slight tremble and cocked an eyebrow at him.  

"Very well. Now. Strip my Fox," she ordered, licking her dry lips. 
The clinking of metal chains echoed in the quiet room, like a 
training pass between two swordsmen. And out of the corner of her 
eye. she could see her Fox jerk at her words.

Jamie stared at her for another moment, then strutted toward Fox.  
There was no other word for it, Rhiannon thought, he strutted!  The 
slim man tried to jerk back, but Jamie grabbed the manacles, dragging 
him to the table.  Green eyes challenged hazel until Fox suddenly 
yielded, staring down at heavy oak planks.  Jamie was not quite as 
tall as the scribe, she noted as he unfastened the clasp on the sash. 
More sodden clothing landed with a dull slumph in the rushes until 
Fox stood trembling, clad only in his under shirt. 

Jamie grinned slightly as he pulled his sgain dubh from the leather 
sheath that lay on the table.  Rhiannon held her breath in the 
stillness but Jamie was careful with her lover. The little knife, 
sharp as any Damascus blade, made a ripping sound through the cloth 
shirt as it parted across the scribe's shoulders.  A last flip of the 
wrist and Mulder stood shivering and naked before her as well.

"Chain him to my bedpost, there," Rhiannon ordered, pointing to the 
foot of her giant bed. "Then, stand beside him."  Turning, she 
pretended to ignore the two men as she causally stirred the glowing 
embers in the brazier, the scent of sandalwood heavy in the air.  The 
Lady picked up the marking iron and contemplated the symbol before 
plunging it back into the fire.  It would need to heat to white hot 
to accomplish her goal, she decided. She paused for a moment, 
pretending that the heat in her face came from the flames and not the 
prospects before her. It was merely the flames that brought the flush 
to her face she mentally argued.

When she turned to face them again, Fox's hands were stretched above 
his head, the chain fastened around the top crosspiece to the 
canopy.  She picked up the dog quirt and walked slowly across the 
room. Jamie stood by Fox, as if daring her to conquer him too. 

Rhiannon threaded the thin leather through her fingers for a 
moment. "Your error allowed Fox to leave the castle with my son," she 
said stonily. "You shall be punished first."  Jamie stared at her for 
a moment, then turned his back and grasped the bedpost.  

Now that both men were facing away from her, Rhiannon allowed herself 
to relax a little.  By the Blessed Magdalene, this was a fine sight, 
she thought as she studied the two naked masculine backs standing 
side by side.  Jamie was more muscular with the occasional scar from 
battle, with shoulders and arms that were used to swinging a 
broadsword or controlling a warhorse.  His arse was hard and his legs 
looked thick and solid standing against the bed. There was a hint of 
his heavy balls hanging down between his legs and Rhiannon had to 
hold back her hand from fondling them.  Na yet, my girl, she thought.

Fox, standing at the corner bedpost, was long and sleek, like her 
wolfhounds, even down to the iron collar around his neck.  She paused 
in her perusal to stroke the chilled flesh and firm butt.  She felt 
the scribe shiver under her fingers as she traced a line from the 
clef of his butt checks up his spine. She causally reached around his 
slim hip to fondle him.  Smooth as velvet laid over steel she thought 
as she stroked him. Ah yes, little Foxling, you like this.  You're 
hard and leaking and tonight, I'll take my pleasure from you again 
and again.

Rhiannon glanced over to discover Jamie avidly watching her caress 
her lover.  Ahh. . .it's like that, is it, me fine one? She mused, 
taking a deep steadying breath. She slowly brought her damp hand to 
her mouth and licked Fox's juices from her finger.  Jamie's eyes 
lowered to slits. His faced flushed and he clenched his jaw in 
apparent anger. But he didn't move. His tense body straightened as he 
gripped the bedpost firmly. 

Rhiannon could see the challenge in the soldier's eyes. A challenge 
she had every intention of meeting. She gave him a triumphant grin 
and backed up a step or two.  His shoulders tensed in anticipation of 
the first blow.  The Lady remembered her husband's sage 
advice, "Surprise is as useful in the bed as in the battle."  So 
instead of aiming at his shoulder, Rhiannon flicked the first stripe 
across that very hard butt she was just lusting after. Jamie hissed 
in response as the whip left a fiery weal across his ass.

"Ye're mine, Jamie boy. As sure as the Fox is," she whispered. The 
strokes became random across his butt and thighs, some light as a 
kiss, some that cracked a line of burning red. Rhiannon paused 
occasionally, soothingly touching the lines that marred his perfect 
flesh. The heat warmed the tips of her fingers.  Jamie didn't cry 
out, but moaned and swore like the soldier he was, under his breath.  

Now one last hard blow crossing diagonally across his flaming butt 
and it was done! Rhiannon tucked the whip under her belt.  Twenty-
four stripes, four for every hour her son had gone missing. Her hands 
itched to touch the man standing so solidly before her. Jamie stood 
perfectly still while she caressed his hips and ran her hand up and 
down his thighs. His skin was hot and moist with sweat even in the 
cool room, the dampness gleaming in the candlelight.

Rhiannon touched him gently on the shoulder and pulled him toward 
her. He came easily into her arms. His large body dwarfed hers, but 
she knew that she was firmly in control. His salty, slightly male 
scent was perfect, she thought as she held him. She stroked her hands 
up and down his unmarked back, as he panted and gasped for air. She 
felt his hard cock pressing into her dress and a shiver of desire 
coursed through her body. 

Soon, Jamie, soon she thought.

"You did well, Jamie," she murmured. "I'm pleased with ye."  He 
pulled back slightly to stare down at her, his pupils dilated and 
smoky with desire. His full lips opened to speak, but before he could 
say anything, she placed a long finger over his lips.  

"Mayhap, but I still have Fox to attend to," she admonished.   
Jamie's expressive eyes narrowed at her comment, but Rhiannon turned 
toward the waiting man.

The scribe's eyes were yellow green and huge in the candlelight.  He 
twisted around to stare at Rhiannon and then at the man standing 
beside her.  "I'm sorry, my Lady," he whispered.

"Likely ye are, but not as sorry as you're going to be," Rhiannon 
promised, pushing him back against the bedpost. "You nearly lost an 
innocent bairn with your folly." She moved back a few steps and 
before either man was ready, let fly with the short whip.  Rhiannon 
kept her focus across the scribe's firm butt as strip after strip 
appeared. Unlike Jamie, Fox was a vocal creature, whimpering after 
the second stroke and howling at each one thereafter.

Rhiannon decided to keep the whipping short.  Fox's real punishment 
was heating in the brazier.  After ten strokes, she stopped and 
tossed the whip against the heavy chest by the foot of the bed.  His 
shoulders were shaking with barely suppressed sobs.  Rhiannon's brows 
drew together. The whipping hurt, no doubt, but there was something 
else going on with the man.  

"Release him from the chains," she ordered Jamie, "and bring him to 
the table."  Jamie stared as her a moment and then stretched up, 
releasing cuffs and the chain from where it was fastened to the 
canopy.  Fox slumped in his arms, still whimpering.
  
Rhiannon had already turned and walked toward the brazier, pausing to 
throw a cushion from one of her chairs onto the table.  "Hold his 
right arm down on that, she ordered, her back to them.  Standing in 
front of the smoking brazier, she paused to collect herself.  
Branding was a common enough punishment for criminals and runaway 
serfs but one that was rarely used at Castle McKinnon.  And even 
then, it was unheard of for a Lady to do it, unless she delighted in 
that kind of cruelty. But you promised him this punishment and 
consequence, me girl.  The little fire was hot and the iron glowed a 
white orange. She gathered herself as she put on her leather gloves 
again. The leather felt cool and protective against her hot skin.  
Now, she thought, picking the rod up from the embers and walking back 
to the table.

Fox was looking down, unable to look at her, trembling.  Rhiannon saw 
him bite hard on his lip and a drop of blood appeared.  Jamie had 
Fox's hand laid across the cushion, his large fingers wrapped around 
the scribe's forearm. He glanced up at her, his feelings hidden in 
deep green eyes.

"Fox," Rhiannon spoke softly.  The scribe didn't look up. "Fox, look 
at me," she ordered.  Slowly his pale face looked up, wet lashes 
framed wide, terrified hazel eyes.  "You can not run away from me, 
Fox Mulder. I claim you as mine." So saying, she pressed the white-
hot iron to the back of his hand.  He screamed in response, trying to 
jerk away from the pain, but Jamie held hard against his struggles.  
Rhiannon removed the iron quickly and tossed it back in the brazier. 
It was done. Jamie without even asking, plunged Fox's hand into the 
icy cold water in the basin. Rhiannon nodded her approval to the man 
as she stripped off her singed gloves.  The cold water would remove 
the immediate pain and tomorrow she had a salve that she would apply 
to prevent infection.

Without thinking about it any further, she unlaced her tight bodice 
and slid it off her shoulders.  The belt and heavy wet skirt soon 
joined the other clothes on the floor.  Her undershift was little 
protection against the cold and her nipples peaked against the fine 
linen.  Mimicking Jamie's earlier actions she sat down in the big oak 
chair and pulled off her heavy riding boots. She looked up at the two 
men with a grin. Green and hazel eyes stared at her.  Both men were 
as still as a painting, Rhiannon thought, noting that Jamie kept 
Fox's hand in the basin throughout. "Come" she ordered with a snap of 
her fingers, giving the men a view of her charms as she strolled over 
toward the big bed.

She had punished them for their indiscretions. Now would come their 
rewards.

ELSEWHERE IN THE CASTLE

"Shh. . .me darling.  Twill be alright. I'll tell Captain Jamie I 
fell asleep and that's how the outlanders slipped by me," Duncan 
whispered into soft blond curls as he held the tearful girl close to 
him.  "No one will know."

"Duncan, they'll turn ye out.  Ye kin na protect me like that.  T'was 
my fault too." Isabel pleaded with him.  Besides, soon the bairn 
would start to show.  She hadn't told him yet, hoping he would want 
to marry of his own accord and now this.

THE SOLAR

Rhiannon sat on the edge of the great bed and leaned back onto her 
elbows to look at the two men. Her shift was stretch taut across her 
breasts and she opened her legs slightly. Both men stood before her 
and she felt heat course through her body. Fox was shivering, his 
head downcast and left hand clasped tightly around his right wrist. 
He had lost part of his arousal, Rhiannon noticed, but that could 
soon be remedied. Jamie stood slightly behind him, his hands resting 
gently on the younger man's shoulders.  The sound of his harsh 
breathing was loud in the quiet solar.  Very weel, Jamie, Rhiannon 
decided, you can watch if you're that concerned about my scribe's 
well being. 

Rhiannon sat up and dragged her body against the younger man's as she 
slowly stood in front of him. Her breasts tingled at the contact and 
she felt his cock harden against her stomach. She gently cupped her 
hand under Fox's chin and stared into wide, wet hazel eyes.  He was 
still pale and trembled under her warm hand.  

"It's over, Foxling.  You're claimed now," she promised as she 
lowered her lips to his.  Her tongue gently lapped at his cut lip and 
under the tender pressure, he opened his mouth.  She pulled him 
toward her, sliding her hand around the back of his neck.  He tasted 
of sweat and tears and just a hint of blood.  He whimpered, but 
remained standing perfectly still, caught between her assault and 
Jamie, still as a statue, behind him.

Rhiannon continue her leisurely exploration, licking his neck, and 
allowing her finger to brush against his hard nipple. He tried to 
twist away as she continued her slow exploration, but Jamie's 
knuckle's turned white as his hands gripped Fox's shoulders, holding 
him in place. She felt the moisture pooling between her legs at the 
thought of Jamie watching her love Fox with her tongue. Rhiannon 
flicked her tongue back and forward across the scribe's naval, 
sliding off the bed and onto her knees in front of the two men. She 
ignored the undershift which immediately bunched up around her waist, 
exposing her soft curls to the avid looks of the two men.  

"You please me, little one," she whispered to him, as Fox hesitantly 
caressed her loose hair. "You please me, very much."

She gently reached down and grasped his cock, now rock hard again and 
starting to leak.  She gently blew across the head and smiled as Fox 
moaned in response. His cock was long and elegant like the rest of 
him, she thought as she began slowly running her finger down the 
sensitive underside, gathering the moisture on her finger tip.  He 
jerked back and whimpered something that sounded like a plea.  
Rhiannon smiled as she gently rubbed his heavy balls.  She's always 
loved touching a man this way.  She rotated his ballocks in her 
hands, enjoying the feel of them as they moved back and forth in 
their velvet sack. Fox gasped again and thrust his hips forward, his 
cock now leaking with arousal.  

Rhiannon tucked her hair back behind her ear, and eagerly engulfed 
him in her hot mouth.  This time she heard two groans as she slowly 
worked up and down, sucking and nibbling.  She felt Fox's long 
fingers tangle in her hair again.  She looked up at the two men, 
Jamie still standing behind her lover, peering over his shoulder. 
Both men watched her avidly, their eyes clouded with passion. 
Rhiannon fought the urge to slip a finger down beneath her curls. She 
wanted this to last.  

Now we shall witness who wins this contest, me fine boy, Rhiannon 
thought as she deliberately paused. She wanted both men to see her 
with her mouth stretched wide around the scribe's pulsing cock.  Two 
sets of huge staring eyes peered down at her. Then Fox groaned as she 
shook her head slightly from side to side with an intense sucking 
motion. With a quick move, she pushed her damp index finger into 
tight arsehole.  Now with a little rub. Fox suddenly yelped and tried 
to jerk away. Ah, there was spot. She felt his balls tighten up 
against him and suddenly he was coming in hard spurts. She grabbed 
around the back of his tender thighs and held him to her as she 
swallowed his salty come. 

She glanced up again, allowing the spent cock to slip from her 
mouth.  Fox's head was thrown back in abandon on Jamie's shoulder, 
and he was gasping for breath.  There was a fine sheen of sweat all 
over him, and she felt his whole body tremble as she slowly rose to 
her feet. She pulled him from Jamie with a firm hand around his neck, 
words were loud enough for both men to hear. The Captain stared at 
her with huge hungry eyes, his cock hard and pulsating, and his lungs 
heaving, gasping and panting for breath. 
  
"Taste yourself, my Fox," she murmured, leaning forward to kiss him, 
her eyes focused on Jamie.  "Yer as fine as . . ." but the comparison 
was never completed.    
 
With a sudden thrust, Jamie pushed the scribe away, not even glancing 
down as Fox slumped to his knees. The Scotsman looked deeply into 
Rhiannon's eyes and she felt her body surge at the awareness of what 
she had done. Jamie's cock was huge and erect, his hands clenching, 
his face flushed. She almost laughed out loud. Driving her captain 
over the edge had been so easy.

He grabbed Rhiannon by the shoulders, spinning her around and pushing 
her face down on the bed. The linen undershift was torn away, even as 
Jamie pushed her legs wide part. She arched her back and showed him 
her swollen sex. He grabbed her by the hips and with one hard thrust, 
buried himself completely inside her. 

Rhiannon screamed out, the ache and pleasure of his stiff cock 
filling her completely. Oh St. Mary Magdalene, he felt so good, so 
hot, and so big stretching her pussy out.  Jamie was too aroused to 
be gentle, pounding her hard as she tried to grasp onto the bed 
covers. She was wet and slick from all the love play.  The sound of 
his thighs and balls slapping her ass mingled with their moans and 
cries.  She always knew he would be like this. An animal that she 
could barely control. Someone to take her fierce passions and use 
them to give her even greater pleasure. Someone like her late 
husband. It was too much.  Rhiannon felt herself tighten on him hard 
as her pleasure swept over her.  

The tense friction only made Jamie reach down and pull her up from 
the bed.  Now holding her tight against his chest, he rubbed her 
nipples and roughly caressed her breasts. He thrust hard again and 
reached down between her legs, stroking her woman's center. She felt 
his teeth scraping down her neck. Nipping at her. Driving her mad. 
Rhiannon arched back like a bow and screamed as she came again. Jamie 
could hold back no longer and with one last hard plunge, he came deep 
inside her.

They stood for a moment beside the bed, still joined, sweat and 
juices trickling down their legs.  The only sound in the room was 
their gasps and pants as each tried to recover.  Jamie gently bent 
down and nipped again at Rhiannon's collarbone, leaving a small mark. 
Then he suddenly withdrew from her with a wet sucking sound. A brief 
caress down her back and then he was gone.

Rhiannon could only stare at the soldier as he purposefully walked 
toward his scattered clothes.  "Jamie?"  Rhiannon called with a 
slightly puzzled tone.  He ignored her as he quickly dressed.  He 
strode to the heavy door and paused to look back at Rhiannon and at 
Fox who had finally gotten to his knees beside the bed.  Emotion 
flared in his green eyes and then he was gone. 
 
Fox scrambled to his feet, eyes downcast, and started to gather his 
clothes as well.  "I'm sorry  . . I'd  better. . ." he started 
uncertainly, not looking at the Lady.  His lean nude figure was 
beautiful in the soft candlelight. 

"Fox Mulder!" she snapped in a tone that had been giving commands to 
men for years.

He paused, uncertain, and stared back at her.  She stretched her hand 
out to him.  "It's all right, Fox cub," she said gently. "Come back 
to bed."  

He waited a moment, but there was a hint of pleading in her eyes. He 
swallowed hard and allowed his kilt to slip back to the floor.  She 
grasped his hand and pulled him into a gentle embrace.

End of Chapter 10