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Highwaymen Ch. 01

By: hardtaskmaster



INTRODUCTION

"Highwaymen" is a long and still developing story of a Master (who does not yet know he is such), and a slave (who thinks she is Mistress). It concerns their twin entwined journeys to full discovery of their true natures. It includes graphic sex and developing BDSM elements. Some people (my slave in particular!) would have me warn you that there are considerable elements of over-romantic fiction.

CHAPTER 1

He had dressed carefully. As he pulled the black leather riding boots up to his knees, and tucked the dusky velvet of his breeches into them, he turned to a tarnished looking-glass on the chest in the dingy room to check his appearance. He saw there his midnight-dark silk shirt tucked into the breeches, its black-dyed lace cuffs encircling his wrists. An old but well-wrought leather belt, also black, held up those breeches. Now he buckled on his rapier and checked his pistol and powder, before tucking them into a small saddle bag. He slipped a quilted sable jacket over all, donned black leather gauntlets, and placed his cockaded hat on his head. Even the feather was black. He scowled, then smiled disarmingly for a moment, impressed somewhat by the dark reflection, the single thin scar down his left cheek which, he felt, added to his roguish air. 

Pinching out the candle and picking up his saddle bag, he slipped noiselessly from the room, listened to check that all was clear, then padded silent as a cat down the stairs at the back of the dingy old inn. The stairs took him to the yard, where he paused and listened again, before gliding into the stables and retrieving his horse. He saddled the dark-flanked mare swiftly, tied on the little saddle bag, and also another larger but empty bag. Then he swung himself into the stirrups and urged the obedient animal into a slow and careful trot, over the cobbles of the yard, and out of the village. After a minute or so, just out of sight of any who might be watching from the inn, he turned her and rejoined the road, though on that moonless autumnal night such a voyeur was hardly likely to see him.

He rode at an easy trot, at first along open road, but a few miles further onward it became a dark tunnel between trees gathered densely on either side. He trotted on, his bearing erect and confident. 

-

The figure waited patiently, behind a tree just three paces from the road. The black clothes and black kerchief over the face left only the eyes, together with the fair skin around those eyes, exposed. Dark hair curled around the face and down to the shoulders, adding to the figure's invisibility under the gloom of the forest at night. In the right hand was a pistol, cocked already. The hand holding it was black-gloved. The well-trained horse was tethered well back from the road. In concentration the figure remained motionless, eyes and ears attuned to the slightest provocation of their senses. Suddenly the hand on the pistol clenched a little tighter as the sound of a horse's hooves came low but distinct. The approaching rider was moving at a steady pace, clearly on a ride of some length. The watcher tensed, ready to move quickly at need. Then the quarry appeared where the road parted the trees, perhaps twenty paces from the spying figure. The horse was dark, the rider darker still. Only his face showed white, and the little light which filtered through the overcast sky made his dark eyes glitter. The watcher made a face at the arrogant nonchalance with which the rider braved the treacherous road, then flexed knees, ready to move fast.

The rider was a little weary, but with determination held himself upright in the saddle. Suddenly there was a movement in the trees a few yards ahead and to the left. No more than a flitting shadow it seemed. He pulled up, the mare tossing her head at the sudden reining in. His hand flew to his rapier, and as he found the grip, a figure stepped into the road, a pistol aimed at his chest. 

"Leave the weapon!" The command was peremptory, assured. The speaker's voice had a rich vibrancy, though there was something about it seemed not quite right, as if it were disguised. The rider slowly moved his hand from the blade, and placed it on the saddle. His eyes were on the face and the hand which held the pistol. The face, where all he could see were the eyes, their piercing gaze, and the hand which held the pistol steady as a rock. He considered his options. Decided they were few indeed at this moment. He must await a suitable opportunity to turn the tables on this impertinent stranger! In the meantime, his words and his wits were all he could rely upon. He started to speak, but the other cut across him.

"My business need not detain you long. If you would be so kind as to dismount slowly Sir, making no sudden movements, you will remain unharmed." 

That voice! What was it about it? It had such a pleasant timbre, so mannered, so.. his musing was interrupted.

"Now! I do not have any time to waste!" The eyes watched him as he swung slowly down from his mount. He kept his hands in view. Inside he was seething that this should be happening to him. The irony of it did not amuse him in the least. He must try to play for a chance, stall until fate offered him some glimmer of a means to rid himself of this arrogant upstart. He looked at the eyes again. He would guess the slim figure might be ten years younger than himself. Twenty maybe? Twenty-two? Twenty-four at the most! He ventured a few words.

"I know your business Sir, that is clear enough from your garb."

There was a laugh. In other circumstances he would have found it an infectious laugh. "Oh, and do you believe you know me and my business Sir! From such a brief acquaintance too! No, don't trouble to answer, I am in haste. Stand with your hands on the saddle, whilst I relieve you of your encumbrances." 

The figure approached him warily, reached out with a hand - fumbled one-handed with the saddle bags as the other held the pistol trained on him. "Dammit! You will untie these and throw them to the ground at my feet". The speaker stepped back two paces, and hawk-eyed watched the other untie the small bag, and throw it to the ground as instructed. Then as the ambushed man untied the other bag he decided this was, slim as it was, the best chance he would have of remedying the embarrassing situation. It was that embarrassment precisely which led him to his next rash action. He suddenly flung the bag at the robber's face, and followed it up with a rush, right arm trying to draw his sword whilst left balled into a fist and aimed a blow at the enemy's face. Unfortunately for him, in his haste he misjudged the blow. The other reacted quickly, swinging the pistol around to catch him on the chin, whilst a knee connected agonizingly with his groin. The twin blows had him on his knees, dazed. Through the haze of pain and bitter anger he heard words barked.

"If you move now I'll shoot you dead, you fool!" He stayed there, until the thumping sickening pain in his groin began to recede somewhat. He felt a thin trickle of blood from his chin. As his consciousness improved he looked up slowly, saw the pistol pointed at him once again, and groaned inwardly. He had grasped at a straw and drowned! He saw the eyes too, caught a hint of blue as they flashed their anger at him. "Now, let me see what I have." 

The figure bent carefully, never once taking eye or pistol from the victim, and felt within the larger bag. "Bah! Empty!" Then he reached inside the smaller, discovering the pistol within, and also a black kerchief, not dissimilar to that which hid the face of the investigator. A wry smile creased the eyes pleasantly. "So! What have we here. It seems maybe I have met a fellow of my own profession. Though not a lucky one it would seem. Nor very sensible of his safety neither!"

The kneeling man grimaced. "Aye, my quarry was further afield Sir, but I believe I would have been richer by the morning."

"Would you so? And perhaps that quarry was the coach from Norwich, due not five miles from here in an hour and a half or mayhap two hours?"

"Well if it was, it seems it will not be now."

"Indeed not, for it has been all day my full intention to relieve the passengers of that coach of any burdens which might trouble their souls, wealth being such an obstacle to a souls' attaining paradise as they say. My ambush here was but to while away the time, on the chance that something might arrive to make my wait profitable. But chance did not smile this night."

He gritted his teeth and waited as another wave of pain wracked his groin. Then spat out "Chance appears at least to be more on your side than mine Sir."

"Carelessness deprived you of your luck Sir, and foolhardiness too. Spirit you showed indeed but precious little sense! You are lucky not to be lying in the road dead this very moment."

He made a face again, knowing this was truth. The stranger's manner seemed altogether pleasant and easy, so at odds with the pain his body was still feeling from the encounter. He tried a last throw for fortune. "Of course, two might more prudently intercept the stagecoach than one.."

A pleasant sounding little chuckle was returned. "Two might indeed be more prudent, though I am surprised to find you thinking of prudence when by your action you just demonstrated its complete absence. But then the prize would be halved. I'll not share that. No."

"Well.. I have some information may be of use to you. Take it as a token that my offer is genuine." He thought he may as well try to undo a little of the harm his rash escape attempt had caused. Though it seemed this man was not intent on murder, who knew how things might go? "The Norwich coach has been running later this past week or more. Your wait will be at least an hour longer than you imagined."

"Thank you for that. Now I must make sure you'll not interfere with my mission. Rise now Sir, and walk ahead of me - between the trees there." A hand pointed the way, and then he was walking down a faint path which meandered between the trees, until the road was left well behind. He felt the nape of his neck prickle as he thought of the hand holding the pistol steady at his back. Now he reached a little clearing where a horse was tethered.

"Stop there. Move a pace right. That's it." 

He watched as his captor fished in his saddle bag, and brought forth a longish piece of rope, looped at one end. Instructed to remove his surcoat, he shrugged it off. The night was only a little cold. Now he was told to extend his arms, wrists together. He looked for another opportunity to fight, but the loop was dropped over his hands and jerked tight too swiftly. A moment later and the other end was thrown over a bough above his head, and captured deftly as it snaked down. His arms were yanked upwards until he was stretched, the balls of his feet pulled from the ground, but then he was lowered back down a fraction. Now he could just stand. The other uncocked the pistol, still watching him warily, tucked it into his waistband, and swiftly tied that end too around the captive's wrists, pulling on the knots to ensure the tether was secure. 

"Now I can be sure you will not interfere with my plans. Yet perhaps in time you might escape. I think I should take steps to prevent that. I wish to ensure you are still here when I return." The other knelt, and yanked at the riding boots, with some difficulty removing each in turn. Then his belt was undone and placed with the boots. "That should ensure you do not go anywhere too fast! I will hide these, and return them to you after my business is concluded."

He spluttered protest. "Sir! This is hardly necessary or seemly. Oh damn!" The latter said as his breeches slid down to his knees. The other's eyebrows rose as his nakedness was exposed, and that so-pleasant laugh stirred him again. He felt suddenly embarrassed, as he would not normally in nakedness before another man. The other saw this clearly, and a twinkling mischief played across the eyes. He turned and walked back to his horse, returning behind the stretched captive. Suddenly a swish sounded, and the sting of a riding crop slashed across his ass. 

"Ow! My God, what is the meaning of this?" He spluttered out the words in indignation.

"I have merely decided to amuse myself with you a little. Since you have been such a pain to me, I thought I would add a little more to your pain."

"Sweet Jesus! Did you not hurt me enough back there on the road?"

"Yes Sir, but that was self defence. This is.. recreation, I shall call it. Purely for my entertainment." The crop was swung again, and bit hard across his buttocks. Yet it was the indignity hurt him. The actual hot bite of the crop, its warmth spreading through his buttocks, was almost welcome in the slight chill of the night. Again and again he was striped. The fiend wielding the crop seemed to be enjoying the play very much, making little comments about "How pretty a striped bottom looks" or how his ass was "Nicely made for punishment". To his immense chagrin he found the combination of warm stinging pain and complimentary word, uttered in an almost soothing voice, a hypnotic, entrancing combination. The figure finally stepped to his front. He turned a reproachful and he hoped withering look onto those eyes. Yet the eyes had shot wide open, and their fierce blue was clear in their merry regard of his groin. The belaboured captive looked down, and groaned audibly to see his sex standing at full attention. 

The crop was being slowly extended towards it, dipping between his thighs. He tensed and tried to move back. Then the crop was raised, until it lifted his balls gently, and let them fall. His cock jumped at the touch. The stranger's eyes smiled deeply. "So Sir, it seems a little pain inflicted by a man is not unwelcome to you."

"I.. I.." His eyes despaired. He could not find an answer. He had never before felt lust provoked by another man, and though the idea did not disgust him, it certainly took him utterly by surprise.

The torturer moved back behind him. There was a short pause, and hands began to fondle his buttocks. They were soft, gently caressing hands. "Gods!" He gasped, as his cock jumped in answer to the touch. They traced the raised welts, one by one, languorously. Then they stroked downwards. Now they started at his inner thighs, fingertips caressing gently upwards, upwards, and lifting his sac, a hand passed between his legs, grasped his shaft. He groaned, and gave himself up to the pleasure of it. Behind him his teasing torturer laughed a most thrilling laugh. He groaned again, could not comprehend his body's reaction, yet he was powerless to restrain it. Now the fingers of the other hand probed his nether regions. Pushed at the puckers of his mouth. He groaned yet again in a kind of delighted despair at the need this engendered in him. Gasped in offence and thrill as a finger pushed rudely into him. Gasped in relief and loss as it departed. His breath caught in his throat as a voice spoke by his ear. "Have you ever been loved by a man?" The voice sounded like the most wonderful of lovers. He felt that he was entrapped by some devil-incubus. He grated out a "No!" 

"Shall I love you?" That syrupy voice, so irresistibly alluring. He groaned "Oh my God!"

"No then?" The voice sounded so disappointed. He wanted the touch again. He whispered "Yes."

Suddenly there was a full, throaty, tinkling, seductive laugh. A soft hand struck his rump a stinging slap, and the figure strode around, pulling off the kerchief as it halted before him. The face revealed was fair complexioned, the blue eyes startling, the dark hair as the figure shook it flew out, falling in a thicker cloud around the face. She smiled.

"My God! Thank God!" The astonishment and the relief wrought an entirely comical effect on the face of the poor victim. She laughed again, that deep throaty, stirring laugh. 

Highwaymen Ch. 02



"So it pleases you to have been bested by a woman then Sir?"

"Oh God!" He winced to think of it. What ignominy! "Oh no" he groaned.

The highwaywoman smiled wide, her white teeth flashing in the gloom. "Make up your mind Sir! Are you more pleased that you were responding to a woman? Or more chagrined that you were beaten by one?" Though her tone was playful, she awaited his reply intently.

For a moment he pondered the idea of stubbornly refusing to answer, even whilst thinking his feelings through. His decision made, he opted for truth. That laugh moved him so, he was eager to continue converse with this strange and beautiful woman. "I am relieved. That my arousal was not at the hands of another man."

"I think you do yourself an injustice Sir. There is naught to fear in arousal by one's own sex! Why limit your pleasures to but half the population of the world?" She smiled a knowing smile as she spread her hands theatrically apart. 

He scowled back to hide his embarrassment. Meantime he took in her form. This woman was scarcely more than a girl! Now he could see her full face. He guessed she might be twenty or twenty-one, though the lines in her face showed her to be perhaps uncommonly life-experienced for her age.

She glanced down at his sex, which now was beginning to lose the arousal her previous ministrations had evoked. Raising her eyebrows, she remarked "Perhaps it is only men you find attractive Sir?" 

He spluttered indignantly, so galled by her remark that he could not manage a coherent protest.

"Let me apply a test Sir, since you were kind enough to inform me that I have time to spare before my next appointment." She paused a moment, considering. "I do have your word on that? If I should miss the coach it will go very ill with you!"

"Aye girl, you have my word." He scowled. 

"Girl! So now you admit to being bested by a mere girl?"

"Dammit, it was no fair fight."

"And you Sir, I'm sure you challenge each person you waylay on the road to a duel, do you not then?" Her tone was lightly admonishing.

Finally he decided. His dignity was gone, and there was nothing he could do in this circumstance to retrieve it. He should stop posturing and be himself. He smiled, and her own expression lightened at that smile of his. Open and warm and friendly and self-mocking it seemed. "No indeed, you have the truth of it gir.. Lady." 

She nodded. "I'll not tease you more Sir. But.. I do wish to apply that test!"

At that she began to remove her gloves, pulling them slowly and carefully from her hands, and laying them neatly to one side. She saw his quizzical glance at her action. Next she shrugged the coat from her shoulders, and let it slide to the ground, falling over the gloves. She stretched upward, flexing her fingers and arching her back a little. He peered at her chest, disappointed that there was only a slight swelling. Her eyes appraised him as she straightened, running her gaze slowly up and down his body. She gave a little smile as she saw his cock no longer shrinking. And now she pulled the dark shirt over her head. 

He gasped. Beneath the shirt, a white front-laced corset was drawn tight. He saw the ivory skin which peeked between the cruelly tightened lacings at the centre of her chest. She began to work at those lacings, loosening them, and her chest expanded, breasts swelled beneath the boned fabric. Then it was loosened enough, and he became aware of her eyes on his. Her eyes, bright and smiling, which looked back steadily into his, and flicked down to his cock, then returned with a slight widening which seemed to indicate her satisfaction. He realised that his cock was climbing fast, and this time he felt easy with it. The vision slowly, coquettishly eased the corset down, her breasts gradually emerging. When dark twin buds emerged above the garment, he gasped. 

She smiled, and spoke softly. "I think you will pass my test Sir." Her eyes rested boldly on his stiff member. Now she studied his face more closely, seeing the lines creasing his eyes, the furrow which clove his brow, the grey eyes, which seemed to hold a little sadness but overlaid with good humour. Maybe he was thirty. That was a little older than she had adjudged initially. He was her own height, or an inch taller perhaps. She dropped the corset, and stepped out of it. Now she wore only dark moleskin breeches and thigh-high riding boots. She knew precisely what such a view could do to a man, and was happy to see her victim was no exception. She retrieved the crop and tapped it, apparently idly, against her calf. It pleased her to see his eyes narrow as he watched her toy with the switch. "Don't worry Sir, I have played enough with your rump for now. Though I admit it is a very pretty ass for thrashing." She couldn't help teasing, though it was not said solely to tease: his body aroused her, his ass perhaps the most of all. She realised how much she had enjoyed giving the beating, and began to regret a little that she had now promised not to administer more. She reached out with the crop, and gently prodded his balls, pleased to see that he did not flinch away from the tip of the crop. 

"I thought you said you would not tease more?" His tone lightly censorious.

"Oh Sir, will you not forgive a Lady if she employs her female prerogative a little? Especially if she is just a mere girl!" 

He smiled at that, unable to feel the annoyance which he felt he should. This heavenly vision had him trapped in more ways than one, he mused! He nodded assent. "As you will Lady-girl. I will allow you the privileges of your sex."

"Why thank you Sir!" She made a little bow. "Excuse me a minute. This is the difficult part." She sat on the ground, and began to wrestle the long boot off her left leg. It took two or three minutes of struggle.

"I could assist you Lady."

"I have you safely where I want you for the moment, kind Sir!" She finished wrenching the second boot off in triumph. "There!"

Now she unbelted, and let the breeches fall. He gasped as he saw the triangle of hair hiding her sex, and his cock jumped once again. "It seems you pass the test with flying colours Sir!" 

She stepped towards him, leaving the breeches lying there unheeded, her eyes burning with desire as she approached him. He was gasping with a lust stronger than any he had felt before. His cock dripped a ribbon of pre-cum, and her belly pushed against him, smearing the liquid between their bodies. He grated out words. "Let me down Lady.. I must take you."

Her reply was husky, choked with overwhelming need, "No Sir, I must take you this night!" 

His eyebrows jumped in surprise, but before he could say more she clasped her hands behind his neck and sprang from the ground, clamping her legs around his waist. She wriggled carefully downwards, her piercing-blue eyes on his. He felt the heat of her sex as it brushed his cock. She wriggled back and forth, rubbing against his cock, guiding it into her wet and ready slit. Now her smile transformed into an intensity of concentration as she moaned, and gave herself up to the animal within. She let herself fall down onto him, feeling the parting of her inner lips, the slow piercing as she was filled.

She contracted around him as she dropped down, and the embrace stretched him beautifully. He groaned loudly, and his hips thrust upwards. As he gasped "Yes" he heard the same word echoed in her voice. Their groins met. She held a second, then started to rise and fall. Slowly. It was a delicious slow dance of love. A pumping, squeezing, driving exquisiteness. Their gasps merged. He sought her lips. She pulled back, scared somehow to offer that particular intimacy, even though they shared one body. He shook his head. "I WILL kiss you. NOW." He panted the words, and pushed out his face towards her lips. She relented, and met his with a little, nervous laugh. Their tongues duelled, each demanding entry, neither prepared to submit. His won the first contest, and he thrust into her mouth, penetrating just as his cock penetrated her. He explored, poking, prodding, marking his new domain, whilst her tongue pushed back in its desire to do likewise. Their breath was gasped in unison. She concentrated, squeezed his member extra-hard at her next downward drop, and now when he gasped her tongue was ready, plunging into him and taking his mouth, raping it as his had just raped hers. 

Their abandon was complete. Two loving animals, they fed from each other, took their pleasure from each other. Yet unlike animals too, for they also each wished to bring the other to peak. It was another fight, who could give the gift of climax first? She was surprised at how long he lasted. He was equally surprised. Perhaps their sense of time was not as it would usually have been as their ferocious loving took on a timelessness. When she came, a hot flood gushing to bathe his sex and course down his thighs, his own climax twitched and jerked to add its enhancement to the flood. Each of them gasped and shuddered. She was clinging desperately to him, her limbs spasming, her body convulsing in the power of her orgasm. She whimpered. It seemed to continue for minutes, only slowly calming. He kissed her cheek, murmured words he hoped might calm her. "Sweet girl". Finally she calmed enough to lift up and then swing her legs to the ground.

Their eyes met, like those of two frightened animals. "My God!" he gasped. "Oh my!" she whispered. She sat on the ground, clutching her arms close around her body, rocking back and forth. He watched in awed amazement, wordlessly.

Finally she ceased her rocking and looked up. "Well!" she gasped, trying to control the shaking in her voice, "That was something most unique and special!"

"Aye!" he returned "You are a she-devil of a lover. A most wonderful succubus! Never.. I have never experienced the like."

She sat another few minutes, calming still. At last she rose stiffly to her feet, and drew a deep laboured breath. "And now, I have that appointment to attend. I will return for you as soon as may be Sir, and then you will be freed. Believe me, I am sorry to have to leave you in this predicament." She sounded most genuinely sorrowful.

He nodded slowly. "You must do as you think necessary, my Lady. But think on my offer as you ride this night. I do believe we might make a good pair!"

"I will." And with that she dressed as hastily as she could. Then she returned to him, pulled up his breeches and re-belted them around him. "There Sir. I will keep your nether regions warm. Mayhap I will have use for them again?"

He smiled. "Mayhap!" He sounded hopeful.

She untethered her horse and swung up onto it, once more the image of a highwayman. As she rode off she gave a little salute of a wave. A tinkling laugh sounded just after she had disappeared from view, and the words "Wait for me, won't you?" floated back to him on the night air.

He settled himself for the long wait. Ah well! He had much to think on in the meantime. And ... he was determined that somehow he would free himself and take his revenge when she returned.



Highwaymen Ch. 03



She smiled to herself, shaking her head. She hadn't been able to resist that last comment as she left the clearing, though she really hadn't meant to tease the poor man more. Something about this foolhardy captive seemed to prompt her to it irresistibly. Now, as she threaded the trees carefully on her way back to the road, she began to muse on the encounter. She started with the play in the woods. Her loins stirred when she thought back to the view of his ass acquiring more and more stripes from the crop. She had tried pain-and-pleasure games before, of course, as both the giver and receiver, with playmates male and female. They had been fun. Yet this had been different somehow. Real! That's what it was. She smiled again. Then, when she thought of that ride, draped around his body, her sex grasping as it slid up and down on his stiff pole, she felt herself stirred deliciously. She caught herself starting to pant short little breaths. Gods! Was it a full moon tonight, up above those thick clouds? She always felt so animal at full moon. It was her best time for loving. 

Then she remembered how he had reacted to her, when she had caressed him when he still thought she was a man. He had been ready to dare that loving, so powerful had been his reaction to her ministrations. And yet she was sure he had never loved with a man. Hah! That would be fun, to get him back to that point, and somehow to introduce him to another sort of loving. She determined then and there that she would do it someday. She set herself the challenge of it. 

Her journey seemed to take no time at all as she rode at an easy trot, her eyes darting about her, ears pricked. Despite these mechanical precautions which her instinct applied, almost the whole of her attention was set inward, casting back. She saw images of his body, images of his face. She loved that expression when she revealed herself. She laughed out loud as she revisited the relief on his face at discovering he was not about to love a man. A self-satisfied smile settled on her face as she saw his look of pure hunger when he beheld her before him in just boots and breeches.

She replayed their entire converse from first to last. Saw the easy, rather careless arrogance with which he had commenced the encounter. Saw his impossible attempt at escape. Good God! How had he lived to reach the age of - what? - she paused, decided on thirty years, with the impetuosity of an 18 year old? He must have wits or luck, or both. 

Now she considered his offer. Give up her independence to partner this man? That was not a thought she would normally entertain for a moment. She enjoyed being able to take all the decisions. Well? Surely she could handle him! He was old in years but young in guile, she could wrap him around her finger when she needed to. She smiled and sighed again - thinking of how she'd been wrapped around his torso not half an hour since. 

As she neared the spot from which she proposed to mount her next ambush she pulled her attention reluctantly from her musing. She scanned ahead, searching for the line of the main road. Yes, there it was. And just there the place she had marked out this morning, that little spinney of tall trees, right where the road crested a low hill, from whence it stretched, clear to view, in each direction for a mile or more. There should be no other traffic on the road at this hour, but should any come the warning would be sufficient to allow easy escape. She spurred her horse to a canter and reached the shelter of those trees in a few minutes, then pulled up, panting a little, her tight-bound breast rising and falling beneath the corset from the exertion. She tethered the stallion at the back of the little wood, where the trees thinned and he would find sufficient grass to keep him quietly occupied in grazing. 

She tied on the black kerchief under her eyes, and grinned unseen as once again she thought of the other highwayman's expression when he first saw her unmasked. Through the trees she walked, found a good place from which to watch, and sat, leaning against a tree trunk. She took out two pistols, carefully loaded them with powder and shot, and placed them on the ground beside her. Then her eyes fixed on the road, where it disappeared into the distant gloom. She looked up and checked the clouds, still thick and dark, then returned her gaze to the road. Half an hour ... three quarters. A fox slinked past close by, not noticing the motionless figure under the tree, until passing downwind the gentle air carried a scent to him and he bolted for his lair. She returned her attention to the road. Perhaps the coach would not come tonight? Occasionally it did not.

Then she caught a blacker smudge in the dark distance at that place she watched. She breathed a sigh, picked up the pistols, and positioned herself out of sight beside the road, awaiting the vehicle's approach. She watched its slow progress, and saw it slowing further yet as it neared, climbing the gradient. Though it was not steep, it was enough to slow the horses to a walk. She cocked the two pistols. When the coach was ten paces away she stepped out into the road and turned to face it squarely, standing silent, legs apart, the pistols trained on the coachman. She watched his body and his hands on the reins, alert to any sudden move. She had had enough of rashness already this evening. She nodded imperceptibly as she saw him pulling up the horses. Still she did not speak, just raised the barrel of the pistol in her left hand to her lips, in a clear gesture to the driver to be silent. The right was trained on his chest. She padded forward even before the horses had halted, and whispered her instruction.

"Sir, I have no quarrel with you, and will take no thing of yours. Be silent and motionless and you will not be hurt." 

He swallowed and nodded. She was satisfied there would be no rashness from that quarter. Now she moved swiftly to the door of the coach, grasped the handle, and wrenched it open with her left hand. She stepped into the open rectangle and peered in, the pistol steady in her other hand. Inside were three passengers: a matron with what might be her niece or daughter, and opposite a man of middle age. Judging from their reactions the man was a stranger to these two women. She also judged that this should be an easy taking. "Pardon me travellers all. I will not detain you long." She disguised her voice with a little of a Scots lilt. The man started to sputter an indignant protest. "Sir!" She barked words at him. "I am in haste and I will not harm you, if you will but be quiet and obedient to my commands for five minutes. Then we may all be about our business and none hurt." 

"Come out of the carriage, you first Sir!" She stepped back, glanced to check the driver, then looked closely at the man who disembarked. "Your money, Sir! And any other treasures you may have about your person!" She watched him hawk-eyed as he untied his pouch and offered it. "Open it first, and show me its contents."

He showed her. A little gold, some silver. "Throw it at my feet!" She looked at his neck, where a gold chain hung. "And that pretty necklace too Sir, which will be worth ten times what you just gave me." He took it off reluctantly, lifting it over his head, and threw it to join the pouch. 

"Stand there" - she motioned with the pistol, and he stepped back against the side of the coach. 

"Now for you, ladies, come out here please. Do not be afraid." She watched them step out. "Show me the contents of your purses ladies. You first Madam." The matron fumbled, and showed a purse containing very little. Her clothing was not fine either. 

"Take what you will Sir! Take it all! Only spare us." She burst out, then fell to sobbing.

"You have little enough to give me. No, keep that Madam. What about you?" She turned to face the other. She was a girl of perhaps 17, dressed much more finely than the other. So they were not mother and daughter? More likely the older woman was a servant or companion.

The girl rather haughtily and disdainfully opened her purse. It contained a goodly number of sovereigns. 

"I'll have the purse with its contents. Add them to these." The highwaywoman kicked at the pouch and chain. The girl obliged reluctantly, and the three items were quickly scooped up.

"Thank you Ladies, and Sir. If you will remain where you are until I am out of sight, then recover to the coach, I'll bid you all a good evening." She gave a theatrical little bow, and with that stepped backwards carefully between the trees, keeping the victims in view as she retreated, glancing down and back to ensure no tree-root tripped her. Then when she was sure they could not see her she turned and hurried to the horse. Thrusting her little gathering into the pouch and untying her mount, she swung up into the saddle and spurred back towards the wood. The gallop was exhilarating. It had not been a large haul, perhaps 20 or 25 sovereigns worth in total. Still, it was a good addition to her savings. She would need only a couple of sovereigns on which to live until the next prize.

She reined in, and checked behind her, stopping her mount to listen carefully for any sounds. No pursuit! All was quiet. She nodded satisfaction, and removed the kerchief from her face, tucked it back into her saddlebag. 

As the exhilaration of the danger and the gallop receded, her thoughts turned once again to the captive awaiting her in the forest. Ahh! What would she do with him? Perhaps she would creep up on him and surprise him with another slashing of the crop across his ass. Rather a delightful bottom, as she remembered, with a slight quickening of her pulse and a little frisson of anticipation running down her back. Or should she fuck him again? It seemed unfair to take advantage of the poor man so unashamedly, yet it had been so good! No! She must, if she intended to try his offer of partnership in their business, free him, and take the chance. He might ride away. He might honour the offer. She pursed her lips as she neared the place in the road where they had encountered each other.

As she turned down the winding path she smiled at the place in the road where he had knelt after her knee took him in his softer parts. It was lucky she hadn't unmanned him! What a pity that would have been! She chuckled low, and looked eagerly ahead as she neared the clearing.

Yes! There he was, still strung to that tree. She wanted to have him again right now!

"Hail Sir!" her voice rang out a happy, musical greeting. 

"Ah!" He swivelled to face her. "Welcome back Lady. I hope you had a profitable excursion? You will forgive me if I don't bow." He sounded amazingly well-tempered, considering that he had spent the past few hours trussed to that branch. She warmed to the man even more.

"Aye Sir, and thank you. It was indeed quite profitable. I will tether my horse, then I think we have something to discuss."

"Aha! So you have been thinking about my offer? That is good."

"Maybe Sir, but the bargain is not yet struck, and you will find me a hard businesswoman."

"Well, you will not find me as easy as you seem to think, maybe."

"A moment Sir!" She turned away and led her horse back to its tethering-place.



Highwaymen Ch. 04



He swivelled on his bound wrists to watch her tether the horse. He saw her toss her head back to shake the hair from her eyes, then turn back to him and smile. It was truly an engaging smile, but with a touch of self-satisfied arrogance as she surveyed him. As she strode nearer her eyes were fixed on his, then dropped, eyebrows rising as she looked at his crotch, his chest. He met her eyes with calm assurance when they rose back to his face, and read her surprise at his demeanour. Then she smiled again, and started to remove her clothing slowly. Her gloves and coat were first discarded. His eyes were glued to her every move. She laughed inwardly, exalting in her power, as she grasped her shirt and began pulling it over her head. 

His smile grew strangely mischievous as the shirt rose up around her head. Then, as she was unsighted, he made his move. He released the rope which he had loosely twined about his wrists to disguise his recovered freedom, and in two strides was upon her, grasping the arms extended above her head, and wrestling her easily to the ground. She gasped shocked surprise, began to wriggle like a serpent, trying to connect knee or leg with some vulnerable part. But he had the advantage now. Whilst her fighting was blind under the shirt, his was directed, and he was on top. He sat on her upper thighs, pulling her arms down to her waist and pinning the wrists there. She hissed and spluttered indignant profanities at the sudden change in their relative positions. "Let go of me you asshole. You fucking mother-fucking bastard. Dickless fucking shit-headed wanker son of a whore." He laughed at her language, as the unending stream of improbable profanities continued. 

He panted. "You have a very colourful turn of phrase Lady. Have you perchance worked in a whorehouse? Or frequented one?"

"Fuck you!" 

"You did that earlier. Now it's my turn to fuck you. And believe me I will return the favour with interest."

He grasped her shirt and tugged it over her head so he could see her. Her eyes blazed in incandescent fury. It was wonderful to behold, he thought. Around those piercing blue eyes her face was turning bright red from the exertions of her determined struggling. 

"One good rape deserves another girl. I promise you there's no way you will escape my revenge."

She spat up into his face. "Bastard!" 

He only smiled grimly. "Do that again and you'll regret it."

She spat at him again, and this time was rewarded with a swinging open-handed slap to her left cheek. The crack of the blow rang out loudly. She suddenly went completely still. Her expression changed to one of deadly menace, and her voice held equal cold threat as she enunciated each word with venomous purpose, "I would kill a man for that." 

She watched his reaction. He just laughed lightly, smiling down at her, infuriatingly unconscious that it was even a serious threat. His damn arrogance again! But his sheer carelessness of the threat disarmed her too.

Now he moved to kneel on her wrists. His buttocks rested on her thighs. He deftly unbuckled her belt, but as he did so she wrenched an arm free and aimed a punch at his jaw. He dodged it, just, and started laughing as he caught the arm once again. "What a she-cat you are! My God."

She didn't know how to react. His laugh was provoking her to both amusement and rage. She sputtered ineffectually once more, then, as he all but collapsed on her in laughter, she could not stop it, and dissolved into racking, sobbing laughter herself. He fell forward, clasping her tightly, still pinning her body, his laugh bellowing in her ear. Then, all of a sudden, he stopped, sat upright, pinning her again, and looked down into her face. "I am going to take you Lady, and use you for my pleasure. I suggest you accept the fact." He said it easily. No threat, just pure undeniable statement.

Undeniable? She shook her head to clear it of such thought. This was intolerable! It mattered not that he was only repaying her earlier usage of him. She struggled again, but less strongly. It was almost as if she fought for form's sake alone. Her eyes opened wide in surprise at how her body was betraying her.

He suddenly raised his ass from her thighs and yanked down her breeches, before settling back on her. He began unlacing the tight corset, his eyes hungry for the white flesh beneath. 

Her chest heaved. Damn it, she thought. I must stop this, make myself stiff and unyielding to the presumptuous bastard. Yet her body would not obey her. 

At last he pulled apart the unlaced corset, and her breasts were there for him to enjoy, pert nipples standing proud. Aroused already, he realised with a self-satisfied and animal grin. "I see you like my rough loving so far then girl."

"Grrrrrr!" He only chuckled louder at that. His laughter a devilishly, infectiously happy and hungry sound. 

"Growl away my animal. I will make you howl soon!"

"Braggart!" But he is right, she thought bitterly to herself. I will be bucking and moaning under him, eager. Already I feel the quickening of my loins, the damp readiness, and my breath shortening. But I will not just let him have me. She heaved her body into an arch, pushing him up a little as she grunted from the effort, then tried to drop and pull out from under him, but he dropped back and trapped her knees. 

He released her left hand, leaning back so she could no longer strike him, and started unbuckling his own belt. She bent forward and up, slapped a stinging blow across his face, but he ignored it and dragged his breeches below his stiff damp cock. She rained blows on him, but they were open handed. They stung, but he ignored them and guided his cock towards the warm haven he sought. She bucked and struggled, until he grabbed her wrists yet again. He held himself above her on his outstretched arms, and readied himself for her taking. She went still. He drove into her cunt suddenly, the expression in his eyes a wild light of animal hunger and triumphant determination as he did so. 

She screamed. It was a shock, that wild long drive, completely unrestrained, piercing her deep. So deep! She bit her lip. But even now her body pushed back as if to swallow him even deeper. He held there a moment, gazing down at her face, Smiled radiantly for a second. 

He grunted "Now you're mine." And fell into a pummelling, frantic fucking which drove her mad with need.

She bucked and moaned and screeched beneath him. At some point, she didn't know when, he released her arms. She scored his back with long scratches from shoulder to rump in her abandon. He was ploughing and ploughing. She couldn't understand how he could last so long as this, as she came once, a small climax, and then just a very few minutes later she came again, shuddering, the gushing release washing his cock and balls and her thighs. Her eyes turned upwards in their sockets, showing the whites as she writhed in a place of fearfully intense pleasure. She moaned "Oh God. Oh sweet Jesus. Oh fuck."

Then she felt him come finally, the jerking of his cock deep inside as he seeded her. She loved that feeling. She clasped her arms around his back and pulled him down. He lay there cheek against her cheek, panting so hard she feared his lungs would burst. Panting out eventually. "God. That was sweet revenge."

She could not speak for minutes afterwards. He kept muttering words. "Lovely." "Wonderful." 

And now, when she could at last speak and think, she answered, trying to control her shaking voice. "You took your revenge well Sir."

"Aye, and you took it damn well Lady! What a ride you are."

They lay there, clutched together for maybe half an hour longer, each lost in thought, drowsing, sated and completely drained. Finally she stirred and pushed at him gently. "Sir. Tell me your name." Her tone was peremptory.

He didn't seem to mind. "I am called Jamie. You Lady?"

"Joanna".

"Jamie, you proposed last night that we should work together. I have been thinking on it recently."

"Oh? I thought you'd been rather too heavily engaged to think of other things this past hour?"

"Dammit, I mean before that!" Her exasperation showed again. This man would be so annoying! Yet she was decided to accept the offer. "Here are my terms. We will split all takings in half. I will decide where we strike, and where we lodge. And I will say when we fly. You are too rash Sir!"

He snorted derisively. "Your terms? They are not acceptable. Do you think I am some boy to be persuaded by desire and allure into following you like a puppy?" 

She neglected to say that yes, that was exactly what she had thought, and returned instead, after only a moment's consideration. "You may decide where we lodge. As for where we strike and when we fly. I am adamant on that." She spoke imperiously.

"No. And change your tone with me or I'll rethink my offer! I will choose the quarry. But if you counsel flight I will agree it."

She sighed wearily. "I'm going to regret this I know. You may choose our victims. I will decide the point of interception."

"Very well". He sat up, and offered his hand to her as she lay on the ground. She also sat, reaching out to him. They grasped and squeezed hands in sealing the bargain.

"Done Sir."

"Done my Lady." 

They smiled at each other, each just slightly wary, then began to gather up their apparel and get dressed. 



Highwaymen Ch. 05



Jamie straightened up as he finished buckling his belt, then slipped on surcoat and gloves. After their exertions he was finally beginning to feel cold in the early morning air. He watched his new-found partner finish arranging her apparel too, and smiled pleasantly. "I feel a touch of chill, what say we make for the next village westwards? A warm inn and hot food would be welcome."

The young woman tossed her head in derision. "Gods, have I taken up with such a soft companion? Sir, I have food in my saddle bag, and I can cook passing well. Gather up some wood, whilst I prepare kindling and strike a spark." 

He looked at her sharply. Opened his mouth to admonish her for taking such a tone with him, but decided against raising the issue for now. The taking of her had left him in an easy mood. He wandered out of the clearing and had soon gathered a good armful of fuel. As he returned, he smelt a trace of smoke and saw the sputtering flame as she pocketed her steel and flint. She laid small twigs over the burning leaves, and soon the larger branches could be added too. The merry fire began to warm them. They sat on their haunches and warmed their hands, feeling the heat on their faces. 

He glanced towards her. Saw the ruddy light pick out redness in her hair where he had thought it dusky. Saw the glow of her cheeks. He exhaled deeply and thought back over all their encounter yet again. What an attractive picture she made! Hah! He would tame this wild vixen. She thought he would dance to her tune? And God knew she was pretty, lithe, wanton, and knowing enough to inflame his passion. Yet he thought she would find him less malleable than she imagined. He had a steel within, masked by his pleasant manner. And if she wanted a challenge, she should have it! She thought to tame him? He would tame her! He watched her. Saw when she became aware of his attention, and though feigning ignorance of it, she moved, leaning back, deliberately stretching, catlike in her luxuriously flowing motion. Oh! His heart jumped, loins leaped. Sweet Jesus! She moved him. But he knew her game. Knew she was playing with him, provoking him. He smiled.

She turned to him, her smile warm and open. "Sir. Jamie. How come you to be in this profession? Would you tell me?"

He sighed, his face creasing somewhat, looking suddenly older than his thirty years. "It is not a profession I have followed all my life. Far from it. Do you really wish to hear the story?"

"Yes." She sighed. "It would please me to know a little more of you, if our paths are to run together for a while."

He was silent for a space, staring into the flames. She watched him keenly, wondering what he was thinking.

He leant back and started to speak, still staring into the flames, his tone dreamlike, monotonous, low, yet somehow compelling. "I was born of wealthy parents. They brought me up well. I expected to help my father with our small estate, and indeed I did so for a few years. But father was taken in by dishonest 'friends'. They persuaded him to invest beyond his means in a venture, importing wine from Portugal. That fell through when the ship was intercepted and impounded. It seems they were not quite legal about their business, though father had not been made privy to that fact or he'd ne'er have got involved."

He paused a moment. Joanna continued to study his face intently. While he was staring into the fire, she could observe without his being conscious of it. He was quite handsome, the nose perhaps a little overlarge, but the features pleasant despite his current sadness. And the scar on his cheek gave him a slightly rakish look.

He continued suddenly. "Well ... the short of it is, he lost almost all his land. He was left with enough to get by, he and mother. But their estate is much fallen. That was three years ago. I was not likely to make much of a living at land management after that, so I decided to embark on a little project. I thought I would just tide myself over with one robbery. None harmed, and myself with enough gold to travel and seek better fortune. So I held up a coach and was fortunate in my takings. I gave a little to my father, and spent the rest much quicker than I had intended. I gambled with acquaintances made in the taverns I was frequenting, and lived well. So I held up another coach. It was only after the third I finally admitted to myself that I was become a highwayman by profession. So now I keep myself in reasonable comfort. I am not good at discomfort!" He smiled wryly, and she nodded, but said nothing, not wishing to break the spell.

He breathed deep. "Well, that is how I came to choose this particular profession. And truth to say, I enjoy much of it. Slinking about, using my wits, moving around the country, meeting some rather interesting characters in the inns, all that is good. Of course, I do not much like frightening my victims. And I especially do not like fighting those who will not submit. Yet I have managed not to kill anyone." Once more he gave that wry smile, as he turned towards her.

"So you see. Though I choose a dishonourable manner in which to earn my living, I am not without some honour. My own formulation of it anyway!"

She smiled warmly. "Aye Sir. And I too have a certain honour. Though you may think me a whore for the language I use on occasion, and my knowledge of the arts of loving, I am no such thing. Yet my mother was." She broke off as she saw his embarrassed expression. He was remembering how he had disparaged her earlier when she had demonstrated her whore-house vocabulary. 

She continued. " ... no matter... you did not know it Jamie. I am not hard on those I rob. Those who have little are free to keep it. And I too have harmed none. Well ..." and here she looked pointedly at his crotch, and laughed, "... none seriously - in making my living."

He joined in her laughter, looking rueful. "Bested by a woman! I hope my friends do not come to hear of that!"

"Oh maybe they will ... but if you treat me well, maybe they won't." She offered her most roguish smile. 

Gods! Once more his loins stirred. He turned back to the fire to hide his lust. Yet she, experienced as she was, had read it even before then. And it stirred her too, to her surprise.

Now she took out a good-sized piece of dried meat from her saddlebag. Wrapping it in some herbs, she thrust a stick through, and held it into the flames so it was just singeing. As the smell reached his nostrils he inhaled deeply, his mouth salivating in anticipation at the aroma: venison and sage. He realised how long it had been since he had eaten! 

"Take this and continue roasting the meat Jamie, I'll not be long." She thrust the stick into his hands and was gone before he could object. Dammit, he thought. When she returns I'm going to take her to task for this manner of hers. Her imperious style is just not acceptable.

Soon she returned, carrying leaves and berries. "These will go well with the meat, don't you think?" He nodded, scowling. 

"What is it?"

"Joanna! I will not have you use such ..." he searched for a word, "such a tone and manner of command when you talk to me."

She laughed easily. "Well ... perhaps it is a mark of our profession that we get to be a little demanding of others!" 

"Is it? I wonder?" He mused for a little. "Anyway, I will not have it!"

"Now who's commanding!" She laughed again, and it both amused and angered him.

He put the meat down deliberately, and turned to her. His eyes flashed dangerously as he reached out and grabbed her arms, pulling her towards him. He saw her surprise. Then her shock as he pulled her across his lap. His left arm pinned her, while the right searched under her belly for the belt-buckle. Finding it, he released the clasp, as she flailed and punched his thigh and side painfully. He yanked at the breeches, and pulled them down to the tops of her high boots, exposing her white flesh, the curve of her ass delicious to his sight. He ignored her fighting and her protestations, and laughed when she started to employ her vocabulary of curses again. "You fucking coward. Cock sucking shithead son of a whore." 

He hardly heard the rest of the stream, as he laughed louder. But his hand began to warm those lovely cheeks into a red and rosy glow. He spanked her soundly. At first her struggling and oaths intensified, but after a little while she calmed. He wondered why. Then he heard her breathing, panting hard, and at the same time she started to move against him, rhythmically. "Oh shit!" he heard her say, but the tone was strange.

"What is it?" 

"Shit ... I want you to fuck me. Need it! Do it! Now!"

"What! I TOLD you not to speak to me like that."

"Fuck!! I ... I'm sorry." She gasped the words. "Jamie, oh please stroke my cunt. Then fuck me."

He was taken aback. The punishment didn't seem to have had the intended effect. What sort of revenge was it if she liked it? But he was keen to have her again. His cock stiffened. She felt it through his breeches, against her belly, and wriggled on it. "FUCK ME! Please!" She shouted it in desperation.

He dropped his right hand, palm red from striking her, between her thighs. She was so hot! His fingers stroked her lips, and felt the wet need in her. She pushed back hard onto his fingers, swallowing two to the first joints. "Jamie!" She gasped. "Finger-fuck me now!" Somehow she remembered to add, "Pleeeease!" 

He obliged eagerly. The first two fingers thrust in and out as she rode them. He watched her bucking, there across his lap, in fascination. Her breathing became faster, as did his. Finally she managed to squeeze out the words "Now! I need you in me. Now!"

He pulled at his own belt, fumbling, as he heard her gasp again. "Oh please! Hurry!" At last, the belt freed, he thrust his breeches down, and smacked her ass one final time. He panted "Get off me Joanna!"

She got up on all fours. He wriggled out from under her, and seeing she did not intend to move from that position he moved behind her. She moaned as his cock touched her outer lips, and rode down on him as he thrust inwards. Their loving was another wild abandoned ride. Each was lost in a world of lustful need. She came first, drenching his cock. The hardness of her at climax brought him off immediately after, and he planted her once more. Then she collapsed onto her belly, and he sprawled on top of her. They lay there, panting like dogs after a chase.

Finally he recovered sufficiently to pull his dwindling cock from her. She moaned at the parting.

He crawled over to the meat, and picking up the stick thrust it once more into the flames. "My God I'm hungry!" he made a comical picture, breeches still around his knees, crouched there on the grass. Finally, as Joanna too regained composure, she crawled over to join him. She slipped an arm around his bare waist beneath his shirt. "That was good Jamie. So good." Her voice was dreamlike. They soon made short work of meat and leaves and berries, supplemented with a bit of hard bread which she had also provided and washed down with water from their skins. 

After a while he turned to her, eyebrows arching a question. "What was it made you need to love so urgently?"

She looked back at him boldly. "The spanking aroused me. Did you not know?" He shook his head. 

She smiled. "It is a good thing, pain and pleasure mixed."

He looked unconvinced. She pressed him "Did you not feel excited by the whipping last night?"

He started to deny it hotly. Then stopped himself. Had he? "Maybe ... I am not sure."

She laughed her throaty, sonorous, intoxicating laugh. "I will prove it on you another time. And ... I hope you will do the same for me again?"

He looked at her with a kind of awe. Would she show him? Could he ever allow her to? And if so, could he enjoy it as freely as she had just done? The view of her pretty ass reddening under his hands and wriggling in need returned to him, exciting him. His dark eyes searched her face, finding there at this moment only merriment and a disarming openness.



Highwaymen Ch. 06



It was an hour or so later that the two companions led their steeds out onto the road. Once mounted, Jamie urged his mare into a walk, heading west, where he had originally been headed what now seemed so long ago. Only last night! Joanna held her stallion in check as she watched, and called out to him "Jamie! Not that way!" 

He pulled up, and turned to face her, but did not retrace his steps. "Why not?" His tone betrayed some impatience. 

"That way is to take the hot route. It would be wiser to head away from the scene of my last night's business."

"Oh!" He nudged the mare back into a walk, then a trot, and passed the girl where she waited, as she fell in beside him. They rode in easy silence for a while. He was thinking about his lack of funds. All his money was gone. That was why he had left the inn so silently in the dark evening yesterday. He needed to refill his purse, and now that his pistol and rapier were restored to him he could find a use for them if a target offered itself.

He glanced at his pretty companion now and again. Seeing her in the daylight he decided she was indeed only twenty-one or twenty-two. And God! Pretty was not strong enough a word. Striking, beautiful even? Her hair cascaded in waves over her shoulders in a red-brown storm, to the middle of her back. She still wore the constricting corset to aid her disguise as a man, but as he looked at her flattened chest he remembered how the flesh trapped there had peeked out in delicious allure when he took her on the ground. He sighed. 

She caught his glances from the corner of her eye, but gave no sign she was aware of his attention. Inwardly she smiled. He had surprised her this morning, taking her in hand like that! It had been so much better than the games she had played with lovers in the past. He had made a reality of something she had merely played at before. Her breasts rose, and she felt the tight uncomfortable squeeze of the corset. Well! There was more in him than she had first thought? Then it would be all the more fun to tame him! She did not doubt for a moment that it would be done. As she thought of his indignation at her commanding manner she laughed involuntarily.

He looked at her curiously. "Why are you laughing girl?"

She jerked out of her reverie in surprise, and turned her head to him. Wondering how she should answer, she decided it might be fun to tell the truth. "I was thinking of how it annoys you when I am commanding in my manner with you."

"And that amuses you!" He was indignant.

"Well ... yes, to tell the truth. And will you not call me girl. I think you should have learned already that I'm at least as old and wise as you in a number of ways!"

"Will I not call you girl - please?" He countered, his smile suddenly taking on a boyish impertinence.

"Sir! Will you make a Lady beg to be addressed properly? I had thought better of you."

His response was such a look of feigned hurt and indignation that she dissolved into giggles.

He returned seriously. "I will try not to call you girl. Though I mean the address as no mark of disrespect Lady."

Her giggles stopped abruptly. "Oh Jamie, don't take me so seriously. I'm afraid you have a manner invites me to tease you." Her eyebrows arched suggestively at the word "tease".

He smiled back, and then fell once more into wondering about his young companion. He resolved that, the next time they sat at ease, he would ask for payment in kind for his own brief life story. He thought back to how easy they had been with each other, sitting there by the fire eating, after their three such fervent couplings of the previous few hours. And that fucking! He had not felt so wholly animal, so completely beyond his mind's control, in all his life. Although he had taken other women with vigour enough, his couplings with this Joanna seemed to transcend all bounds of reason and restraint.

-

Two hours or so later they were approaching the village and the inn which Jamie had abandoned stealthily the previous day. He was not inclined to risk being seen in the village. No doubt the innkeeper would have told all and sundry how the dark-clad gentleman had disappeared without having paid a penny of his bill. Jamie pondered what to tell Joanna. He did not wish to admit the truth to her, as he suspected she would be less than impressed. Finally, desperate to avoid the place before they became recognisable, he turned towards her. "Joanna" he began, not knowing quite what he would say, "I would prefer not to be seen here. Will you ride around this village with me?"

As it happened she did not question him. No doubt she assumed it was something to do with his highwayman's activities. "Yes indeed Sir, it is no hardship." He felt a little awkward under the warm smile which she directed to him. 

It was another hour or more before they came across the next village. The inn here was one which Jamie had frequented when last he had been in funds, and he remembered it with some affection. A certain serving-wench had caught his eye during his sojourn there, and she had not been averse to his advances. He had also enjoyed a few games of cards and dice with some of the local gentry under that roof. He turned to Joanna "What say we stay here for today? I know this inn. It is a warm and friendly place." 

She shook her head, then laughed at his crestfallen expression. "Oh come Sir, let me buy us lunch there. Then I'll replenish my supplies and show you good fare at our evening encampment." He nodded, brightening somewhat.

They rode through into the inn-yard and handed their mounts over to a young ostler, with instructions to feed and groom them well. On an impulse Jamie offered his arm to Joanna, and she laid her hand upon it. Thus they entered the house. It was almost deserted, apart from two labourers sat at one bench in the far corner with a mug of ale apiece. The innkeeper advanced towards them, eager to augment his guests. He was a middle-aged man, rather portly, cleanly dressed, and welcoming in manner. "Sir. Mistress. How may I help you?"

Jamie started to speak, but Joanna squeezed his arm gently as she cut in "Bring us food and drink to refresh us. We have been travelling much these past days and have had little chance to eat well. My companion Jamie here is famished it seems." 

At mention of his name Jamie immediately stiffened and flushed slightly. Damn! He had forgotten that his names would not tally!

"I can offer cold meats and cheese, fresh bread, and fruit My Lady, if that will suffice? I'm afraid there will be nothing hot 'til evening."

"That will be good enough. Wine please for me. And for you too Jamie?" Her consort looked embarrassed and glanced rather guiltily at their host. She wondered at it.

He nodded "Aye ... wine for me too."

The innkeeper bustled off. Jamie led her to a table near the hearth, where a low fire burned. He held a seat for her and seated himself opposite.

She looked at him piercingly. "Jamie! Something is up, you are ill at ease. Will you tell me why?" 

He shook his head. "No, it's nothing."

She reached out for his left hand which rested on the table, grasping it and squeezing pleasantly. "I can read people. I read you easily!" She began to idly stroke the back of his hand with a fingertip. "Come ... tell me what it is. If we are partners we should be open with each other, should we not?"

He shook his head. Seeing his awkwardness over this matter she let it drop for the moment. 

The food arrived, and the wench who brought it was comely, a year or two older than Joanna, and well proportioned. Indeed, somewhat generously proportioned in certain appointments, Joanna noticed with interest. Hmmm ... she looked like fun. The girl suddenly stopped, looking at Jamie. She smiled very warmly at him, and opened her mouth to speak, but he squirmed, and almost imperceptibly shook his head. Dammit! Joanna thought. So has he been there before me? Well I'll not make things easier for him.

Joanna addressed him, "Jamie?" The girl started at sound of the name, then set the last of the dishes down and departed. "Are you well?"

"Yes Joanna, I'm fine!" He spoke sharply. She could hear anxiety in his voice. Suddenly she laughed. "You really are not good at secrets Sir. Ever since we came in you have been jumping like a scared cat whenever I use your name. Tell me ... what is the name by which you went here?"

"Dammit Joanna!" he looked angry, then burst out. "You're right I'm not so good at subterfuge. They know me as Terence."

She looked directly into his face. "And I know you as Jamie, and I have only known you a day, though rather more intimately than many. But perhaps there is another here may also claim that?"

He went red, and now she laughed. "An open book!" She said it with an air of triumph. "Don't you try to hide things from me Sir, I will find them out and then I will seek retribution." 

"Well, now you know. Umm ... Joanna?"

"Yes? Now I suppose you will tell me that your life story was a pack of lies and you are really a common thief?" Her tone was light, but her stare piercing. "Tell me what you must. But let it be truth this time!"

"I have told you the truth, except for my name. It is indeed Terence."

Her eyes flashed anger. "Why did you lie to me about that?" 

"I don't know." He fell silent.

She felt piqued that he had lied to her, and more annoyed that it had been such a trivial thing as his name. Also, she was piqued that she had taken him at his word, unquestioning. She stayed silent whilst they ate in a strained atmosphere at odds with the ease in which their company had been shared before. He looked miserable, guilty, and that at least mollified her somewhat.

When the wench came back to clear away, Joanna suddenly spoke to her. "What is your name girl?" 

"Rosie, Ma'am." The girl met Joanna's bold stare without evasion. 

"And you known my companion?"

She looked awkwardly towards him. He nodded reluctant permission to proceed. 

"Yes Ma'am." Rosie replied.

"And his name?"

The girl swallowed, looking sideways at Terence as she answered, "Terence, Mistress."

Joanna's smile became suddenly sweet. "And you enjoyed his embraces?"

She was pleased at the reward of Terence's hissed breath. As the wench responded "Ma'am?" Joanna turned to Terence, her voice low and tinged with anger. "Ask her to tell me the truth please, Terence." Then she turned back to regard the girl as her companion muttered his permission through his gritted teeth.

Joanna composed her face into a knowing but conspiratorial smile, and listened as Rosie admitted the little liaison. Some gentle but pointed questioning elicited the facts that it had been recent, casual, and short-lived. 

Joanna leaned towards the girl and whispered something in her ear. Jamie strained to hear it, but could not. Rosie giggled, and then as the whispering continued, her mouth formed an O and her eyes went wide. She glanced towards Terence and then back to Joanna. More whispering ensued, with both girls giggling. Terence shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

Joanna suddenly sat back. "Well Terence my friend, I think I will fall in with your wishes. We will stay here tonight. Rosie and I will have a little tete-a-tete later, won't we Rosie?"

The girl flushed a little, clearly not understanding the phrase. "Umm ... yes Ma'am."

Terence sat there seething. Damn this woman! She was too much. Now she was interfering with his buxom little wench. Well, he would have Rosie, then take Joanna again, and show her once and for all who was going to be in charge during their partnership.



Highwaymen Ch. 07



So it had come about that they whiled away the afternoon at the inn. He had arranged to rent a room for tonight at least, promising to pay the landlord in the morning. Damn, he had no money! Terence was in a foul mood, made fouler by Joanna's over-played sweetness. In the end he went stomping off for a walk over the fields and through the nearby woods. He brooded over what had happened, and resolved that this very night Joanna should feel him commanding her. The woman could not be allowed to get away with this. She was manipulative, artful, she ... gods! Now his mind would not let go of his memories of her body, her face, her hair! She aroused his desire even as she aroused his ire.

Meanwhile Joanna had a bath and hot water brought to a second room. If Terence was paying for their little stay she would make the most of the luxury. She asked Rosie to help her with the bath. The girl obliged willingly, scrubbing the pretty Lady's back as requested, then washing her hair, as Joanna luxuriated with her head back and eyes closed. Her breasts, released from the strangely flattening corset she had been wearing, rose and fell above the water, pert and pink now. The Lady murmured, "Ah! That feels good Rosie. Your hands are gentle."

Then when her hair was washed and rinsed, she opened her eyes and looked up at Rosie. "Come here girl! Sit on the stool by me." She did not balk at calling the wench, probably two years her senior, girl. "See ... you have a little something spilled on you - here." Joanna gathered a little soap onto a fingertip and rubbed gently at Rosie's right breast, just above the neckline of her shift. The girl suffered the attention easily, not shy. 

"I will tell you something else about Master Terence girl!" she said huskily. "You would not believe how I first became known to him!" She proceeded to relate the story of their first meeting, nimbly avoiding any mention of highwaymen. Her voice stayed low and alluring. Rosie became somewhat excited as Joanna described how she, in man's garb, had beaten and aroused Terence. As Rosie's breathing became heavier Joanna leant towards her, her face hovering near her breasts. "You have pretty breasts girl. Did Terence tell you so?"

"He did Mistress." 

"Call me Celeste." Joanna purred the words. "Terence is a lucky man, to have nestled here in your cleavage." She rested her head lightly against Rosie's breasts, and noted that the girl did not draw back. In fact, she pushed just perceptibly back against her. Hmmm ... that was a good sign. Take it slowly now, she told herself. She finished the tale of the beating and their coupling, and how she had been twined around the man. Rosie began to rock very gently back and forward as she listened in rapt attention to Joanna's graphically detailed account.

Now Joanna looked up into Rosie's eyes, her own eyebrows arching in a question as her fingers hovered at the woman's cleavage, holding the ends of the bow which tied its lacing. Rosie returned her look with equanimity. It seemed she was quite at ease with this. Good. The bow pulled apart easily, and Joanna's hands opened the front of the blouse, slipping it down over the girl's full breasts. She stretched forwards and took the left nipple in her mouth, suckling gently, whilst her left hand held the right breast. Rosie made a little sound, a whimper, half fear and half desire. Joanna heard it with satisfaction. The girl was willing! Mm ... and the flesh of this breast was firm and smooth, the nipple hard and large between her lips. She suckled happily, more strongly, bringing forth further little moans and whimpers.

Now her arms encircled the wench and she pulled up out of the bath. She knelt in front of Rosie where she sat on the low stool, and returned to sucking strongly on her nipple, then flickig across with the tip of her tongue. Rosie sighed, and ran her fingers through the strange and lovely Mistress's hair, then clasped her to her bosom. Her head fell back with the attention to her nipple, and her legs parted as she felt the deep movement of her loins. When she panted, Joanna pulled her head away from its nesting place gently, and looked up. "Have you ever been loved by a woman Rosie?" Rosie was captivated by the piercing, beautiful eyes. 

"No Ma'am"

"It's Celeste dear girl."

"Celeste"

"Good. I will teach you. Don't fear it. Now ..." As her eyes held her willing victim entranced, Joanna's hands pulled the skirts up to reveal the inviting pussy lips beneath. She stretched up and kissed the woman on the mouth once, then kissed her throat, still keeping eye contact. Now she moved her head down to kiss the silky skin on the inside of each thigh, eyes still upwards on Rosie, watching her reaction. The girl was ready. Joanna dropped her head between the parted thighs and licked a long stroke upward, the full length of the girl's outer lips. Rosie moaned loudly. Joanna repeated the action, and the wench pushed her pussy greedily at her tongue, which now parted the outer and rasped between the inner lips, across the pearl above those lips too. A little screech rewarded her. She sucked the bud more strongly, sucking and releasing Rosie's clit in a rhythm tuned to the girl's response. 

Only when Rosie had her first shuddering climax did Joanna stop. She went to work deeper now, pushing her rigid tongue in and out of the wet and sticky embrace, then sliding a finger in alongside the tongue, and probing, finding the spot, feeling it harden as she stroked. Then a hot wet wash told her the wench's second peak had come. 

She pulled back, licking her lips, and looked up to see Rosie in an almost comical mix of bliss and embarrassment and desire. "Will you help me to my pleasure now girl?"

Rosie nodded dreamily. "But ... what do you want me to ..." 

Joanna smiled, and grasped Rosie's hand, guided it to her own cunt, let the girl feel her hot wet need. 

"Finger me, play me as you would play with yourself." Joanna urged the woman from the stool, guided her back onto the bed, and climbed on top of her, turning around quickly so they each faced the other's sex. "Fuck me Rosie." Joanna returned two fingers to ply Rosie, who groaned and lifted up her cunt to meet the welcome fingers. "Fuck me!" Rosie jumped, and remembered finally. She started to push in and out of the woman's sex which was offered invitingly above her own breasts. Joanna began to pant and writhe. She contracted strongly on those fingers, riding them. She swallowed them hungrily and expelled them with force, quickly working herself towards her orgasm. Then she came, gushing, water running down her thighs, dripping onto Rosie's breasts. But Rosie too was near and soon she also was panting and moaning, and then wailing as she came a third time.

Joanna collapsed onto her, and they lay there breathing heavily, bathed in the warm afterglow. After a little she wriggled around and kissed the wench full on her mouth. Then she put an arm around her and they both lay drowsing. 

A little while later Joanna bathed Rosie gently in the tub. They kissed and giggled like young girls at play. Then they dressed, each looking fresh and healthy after the exertions and the bath. 

Joanna cautioned Rosie not to say anything of what had passed to Terence, neither of their sport nor of Joanna and Terence's strange meeting, at which the girl looked shocked. She certainly could not have said anything of it to him or anyone! Joanna reassured her, made sure she did not feel that what they had just done had been bad or wrong, and then bade her farewell, returning to the room which Terence had rented for them.

The highwayman meantime had done with his long walk in the countryside. He had calmed somewhat, as he mulled over what had passed. Damn, why had he not given her his right name from the start? Then none of this would have happened! He sighed, and resolved to be honest with her from now on. It would be easier. The witch had a sixth sense which told her when he was dissembling. Still, tonight she must learn not to embarrass him so again.

As he walked back to the inn the sky began to darken. It was almost dusk by the time he entered. He nodded to the landlord and made his way through towards the back. As he approached the stairs which led up to their room, he spied Rosie. She looked fresh and red-cheeked, but she flashed him a look of fear which set him aback, as she disappeared to the kitchen at a half-run. What had that bitch Joanna been saying to the girl? 

He walked up the stairs, his mood now darker still. Without a knock he entered the room and closed the door behind him. Joanna lay on the bed, naked, pink and gleaming from her toilet, her hair arrayed in a halo of brass around her head. She looked a veritable goddess. He froze. His resolve began to ebb away at the vision of her, as his pulse raced. She looked at him with a winsome smile. "I have bathed Terence. Is there anything you would like?"

"Gods!" Somehow his anger held sway over his desire. "I want you to stop treating me like some errant plaything to embarrass when it pleases you woman! I want you to stop giving me commands, explicit or implied! I will have you obedient to me!" 

Her eyes flashed at those last words. She spoke just above a whisper. "Obedient to you! Do you think I am some horse to be shaped to your liking, whipped into doing you bidding? Be careful Sir! I have warned you before about your impetuosity."

At that he snapped. He strode over to her, reaching the bedside in three paces. She was rising, reaching out for something - towards her bag which lay just beyond reach. He dashed it to the floor and then scooped it up. "So, you wanted this?" He held up the ornate but lethal little dagger he found inside, pulled it from its sheath and threw it at the opposite wall, where it stuck shuddering. She kicked at his knee viciously, but he managed to turn just enough to receive only a glancing blow. He threw himself on top of her, pinning her with his weight. She spat at him, writhed, seeking to engage her knee or elbow with his groin, but he held her down still. They were both breathing ragged gasps of air as they fought. After a little she fell still, realising the futility of her struggles. She would wait for him to drop his guard, then take him, she thought. His eyes looked down into hers. She saw a fierceness she had not seen in him before. There was a hurt too she saw, alongside his hunger and that ferocious anger. She silently cursed herself for having pushed the man too far. Yes, she had toyed with him. Did he know about Rosie too she wondered? Maybe that was what had tipped him into this rage. She stilled her own anger, and lay quiescent.

"Do what you want then. Take me." Her voice was tinged with bitterness at herself, not at him, but he could not know that. He cooled instantly. 

"Dammit woman. I should take you like a bitch."

She looked at him. He was suddenly over his fit of anger. Strangely, she felt disappointment. She would like to be made to serve his need. It had been no game. She had been powerless before his raging, and now that she was no longer in danger she wanted that rage back, wanted him to take her by force in his anger. Without conscious decision, she heard herself say "Take me like a bitch then. I took your Rosie not two hours ago. And she loved it!" Her eyes bored into his, daring him to believe her. She saw that he did. Saw a hurt which wrenched her heart, then an anger which fired her loins. 

He slapped her face hard. Then, backhanded, he slapped the other cheek. She glared up at him, "You fucking bastard!" 

He tore ferociously at his own clothes, shedding his shirt and pushing down his breeches to his boots. Then, as she clawed at his chest and left dark red stripes, he seized her wrists and pinned them. He gasped "Get on your belly like the bitch you are. Whore. "

He turned her beneath him, and she let him, though he did not realise it. She put up a fight but she knew she could have fought harder.

"On your knees now! Be bitch for me!" He roared the words. She lay unmoving, panting hard. He climbed off her and stood by the bed. Suddenly there was a swish and she felt a sharp sting across her ass. Gods! The bastard had hit her with his belt! As the sting dissipated into warm pleasure-pain he struck again. 

"I said ... get on your knees like a bitch." He began to rain blows on her. She lay there and suffered them. Little did he know that, though she felt each sting as sharp pain, the spreading heat which followed was all pleasure to her. Finally, a little dazed, she crawled up onto her knees. He was really raging! He was going to take her as a punishment! She had to school her face to displeasure. Surely if he saw her smile he would likely lay into her to an extent she would not enjoy at all! She waited. 

Terence saw the red welts he was raising across her ass and thighs. At any other time such violence to a woman would have appalled him, but right now rage was driving him. The bitch must learn. When the first droplet of blood appeared he stopped, throwing the belt to the floor. Then he climbed up behind her, grasped her waist, and pushed his cock rudely into her. Oh sweet Jesus Christ! The woman was wet as a swamp! He grunted and groaned as he fucked her with a wild determination. Joanna/Celeste felt the mix of pain and pleasure stirring her deepest places. His belly rasped her sore ass as he pounded into her cunt. She could no longer restrain her body, she started to respond. She bucked under him, wriggled around his invading sex, began to moan and groan in obvious extremis of arousal. Terence came in her, his cock jerking, planting his seed deep. Then he pulled out. She moaned. "Please ... finish me... make me come ... please."

"NO!" Now at last he'd found a way to punish her! He stood beside the bed and watched her writhing. When she reached back towards her crotch he clamped her hands and bent to her ear. "I said no. You WILL obey me." She sobbed, but fell still, until after a long while her shuddering need subsided.

She turned her face towards his and he was amazed to see her expression. It was contrite, ashamed. There seemed no trace of accusation or blame of him. 

"What is it?" he whispered.

"I'm sorry Terence. I shouldn't have played with you so. And now I have made you do something you will feel bad about." They both fell silent for a long time.

"But ...thank you for punishing me. I'm afraid I enjoyed it rather much." She smiled wryly. "So you see you really need feel no guilt ... though I suppose you may feel cheated by that too." 

She paused again, then chuckled that throaty laugh which always stirred him so strongly. "Of course, if so, then I am at your disposal for another punishment."

He shook his head slowly. Would he ever find a punishment she could not enjoy?



Highwaymen Ch. 08



The next morning, after they had breakfasted simply but well, Joanna turned to Terence. "Sir, I think we've had enough of luxury for now. I don't wish to spend my money, earned at such risk, on these unnecessary things." Her dismissive gesture took in all the room and its contents.

Terence frowned. He did not wish to admit his current lack of funds after having promised to pay for their stay, and he played for time. "Let us spend one more night here before we quit it, Joanna. This is not an expensive house, and I'll gladly foot the bill for an extra night."

She returned his frown with her own. "I don't understand your wish to be here Terence, unless ... ", now her voice grew low and teasing, "unless it is Rosie's attractions draw you to it. That I can certainly understand."

He scowled darkly, reminded that Joanna had taken his Rosie. "Woman, have a care!" 

Joanna looked surprised at the vehemence of his response, then nodded. "Terence, I know I tease you far more than is reasonable. I like you, and I'm sorry that I vex you so, but I don't think you will change that habit of mine, it's in my nature." She smiled disarmingly, and inclined her head. "Please forgive me."

"I'll forgive you in exchange for another day here." His answer was grudging.

"Very well." She acquiesced, surprising herself somewhat by the ease of her surrender.

Terence mused irritably on his predicament. He had put himself in a corner. Before the morrow he simply must make a successful interception to replenish his funds, at least sufficiently to pay the bill here and hopefully leave a little to tide him over. He spoke to the innkeeper, who having dealt with Terence previously was happy enough to accept his promise to pay tomorrow morning.

This morning passed in his accompanying Joanna to the blacksmith's where her stallion was re-shod. After returning the stallion to the inn, the sun being warm and the day pleasant, they wandered along a lane together, passing between low banks. A little way along the woods closed in, and the banks steepened. Soon they came to a bend where a swathe of wild flowers, delicate yellow primroses chief amongst them, nestled on the earthy bank. Terence stopped suddenly to admire the scene. Joanna's face turned to his, and she read his expression of wonder with some amazement. She had not realised he was as sensitive to nature as she herself. It enchanted her more than a little. 

She reached for his hand, seizing it tightly in hers, and pulled him after her the short scramble up the bank and between the bushes beyond, he following in surprise. Then she stopped suddenly and turned to face him. Her face was flushed and her breasts, unconfined today, were heaving prettily beneath her shirt as she spoke. "Terence," her words came raggedly through her short gasped breaths, "we have coupled in nature more than twice already, but each time it was dark or somewhat dim. It would please me to love you in the bright light of day, here in this green place." 

He watched her animated face as she spoke. God! Once more her beauty pierced him. It was not merely her physical appearance, it was her inner lusty life-force, he thought, which shone through at such times. Her eyes mesmerised him, and he had no wish to escape their siren charm. He fell into their clutch, swallowed up eagerly in the spell they cast. Their bright blue hue held a desperate urgency. She walked backwards, his two hands held in hers, until they reached a little mossy dell. She knelt, pulling him down with her, her eyes still locked together with his. They knelt face to face for a little, until he reached out and grabbed her waist, pulling her into a fierce and bruising kiss. Her eyes opened wider and shone bright with delight as he crushed her lips to his. He tasted a little blood in the kiss but, barely conscious of it, he continued his vehement attentions. His tongue invaded her mouth and prodded, tasted, then moved on, exploring it with slow deliberation. She gasped around it, and fell back onto the moss as he pressed her down. Her hands pulled at her skirts, hitching them high, and her legs parted wide. Still the kiss continued, Terence devouring her with a fervour which roused her wonderfully.

When he finally moved, pulling back from the kiss, hearing her sigh and seeing her lips pout at the loss, he reached to unclasp his belt. Her fingers were there before him, unbuckling, then joining his in pushing his breeches to his knees. Then she was tugging his shirt upwards. His rudely protruding cock enticed her, she pulled his hips up towards her face, and he allowed her to guide his cock towards her waiting mouth. She took it between her pursed lips, sucking, running her tongue around the tip, feeling it leap in response. She grazed her teeth down the shaft, and gently squeezed his balls. One of his hands reached to twine in her hair. He groaned pleasure, but he needed to be in her, and soon he moved downwards. She moaned as his cock left her mouth.

His hand fumbled for a breast, pushing under the thin fabric of her shirt and grasping, kneading her soft flesh gently, then running his fingers over the slight bumps of her areola, before squeezing her nipple hard, eliciting a delighted squeak. He pushed his cock rudely into the waiting embrace of her hot wet pussy. Joanna's arms went around his shoulders and dragged him down into another long kiss. Her tongue leapt, and it seemed she was determined to invade his mouth with as much possession as he was invading her sex. He was shocked at the insistence of her tongue, but it stirred him further, and he began to pump into her with gusto. Her hand grasped his head by the neck as she plunged her tongue deep into his mouth, her tongue matching the rhythm of his pumping cock stroke for insistent stroke. Terence felt her free hand slide up between her breast and his, and his nipple was seized in a vice-like pinch. Breath gasped from him, but he was too far gone in his own pleasure to complain, and he endured the pain of it. Suddenly, the pain bloomed into an intense focus of arousal, pulsing from breast to crotch. 

He came, groaning pleasure as he pumped cum into her in jerking spasms. When he was spent he lay still above her. Now she was mewling, her legs wrapped around him, her teeth grasping his ear, as she wriggled and squeezed around his still-hard sex. He felt the flood of her climax as she keened her pleasure, and then her limbs began thrashing wildly. He pinned down her arms and legs to protect her (and himself) from harm. And now they both lay gasping for breath.

For a long time afterwards they lay there, looking up at the trees climbing and meeting above them, bending as if to enclose the pair in a leafy high cathedral. They watched the thin upper branches sway gently against the blue sky. Joanna was the first to speak, and her tone was awed. "Terence, I don't believe I have ever experienced anything more passionate … more complete, than we just had."

He considered her words a moment. "Aye, I do know I can say the same my lo.." and he bit back the word which had almost escaped his lips, finishing instead ".. my lovely Joanna." 

She smiled secretly to herself at that. True, he had not fully uttered the word, but it had been thought and half said! She felt warm and happy. This man shared much of her natural and animal passion. He was a fitting partner in many ways. She would show him how to enjoy all the possibilities of nature in the ways of loving, and she was sure he would be able to appreciate them as much as she. Yet still she held herself back. She would not, could not quite admit that another could harness her in love as she surmised she had harnessed him. She was too used to playing the coquette, leading men on, staying safely at a distance even while her body enjoyed the most intense sensations. So she believed herself to be merely infatuated with a new lover. 

Meanwhile, Terence was regretting the way that little word had slipped itself into his speech. Like Joanna, he also was not yet prepared to admit that he could love this girl, though he did recognise that she held a unique fascination for him. And it was galling that now she might think he loved her. Surely she would be hoping to control him now with that, making it another lever for her artfulness?

Finally they dressed. As they were returning to the inn Terence began to brood on his necessary adventure to come. He had to intercept a traveller tonight! So he became rather short and distant with Joanna, and she in turn grew distant when she perceived it, mistakenly thinking that he now regretted their recent dalliance.

Finally, as the afternoon wore on, he approached her. "Joanna, I must run a little errand. I should be back before midnight, and with luck it could be much earlier."

"With luck?" She guessed what sort of errand he might mean, but she did not want to embarrass him by naming it outright when he so clearly did not wish to admit its nature. "Then I wish you luck and God speed on your errand." She managed to give the last word only the slightest of emphasis. 

"But Terence", and here she laid her hand solicitously on his arm, "have a care. I know you are not always as cautious as you should be. Stay safe for me." Joanna wondered at her own words. She had sounded to herself like some silly worried wife entreating her husband to take care!

He smiled back at her, somewhat curiously she thought. "Aye, I'll be safe. Have no fear of that my Lady." 



Highwaymen Ch. 09



Terence cantered eastwards along the road for an hour or so, enjoying the exertion. Occasionally he eased back into a trot to let his mount recover, but she too seemed to revel in the exercise. His garb was black from top to toe. In his belt was tucked the flintlock pistol, primed and loaded with shot. His saddlebags were empty, and he was determined that they should not remain so. He imagined the satisfaction Joanna would feel if he had to admit that he was unable to pay his bill. Dammit! He thought back on their interplay last night, when he had taken pleasure in her so violently, and then again the animal passion of their woodland coupling. He was not himself when he was with her. She evoked something truly elemental. It was ... almost frightening in its intensity, and also wonderful. The thought roused him. A shiver ran down his spine as he remembered the manner of their introduction, his thrashing at her hands, the night of their meeting. He tried to shrug it away, but it would not subside. His cock stirred strongly at the memory. Gods! How she affected him.

Finally he reached the crossroads and turned left onto the main turnpike. He pulled up the scarf to cover his face to just below the eyes. A mile onwards he espied a rider ahead of him, solitary as himself, trotting the road. Terence spurred his mare into a canter once more, until he had drawn to within a hundred yards of his target. Then he reined her back and quietly approached his intended victim. As he neared the unwitting object of his attention he drew his rapier smoothly and silently. Still the rider seemed unaware of his presence. He spurred his mount and suddenly drew level, shouting to the man as he turned to confront him, brandishing the rapier, "Hold up Sir!"

The other at last turned to face him. He was taken aback but clearly not bemused. Terence admired the younger man's insouciance as he reined in. He watched his quarry's hands, saw that he did not reach for a pistol and, although a rapier hung in his scabbard he made no move to that either as they both came to a halt. The other spoke first. "I judge from your appearance Sir that your intentions are less than honourable." 

Terence winced beneath his disguise. "Aye Sir, needs must, I will relieve you of any treasure you may have about your person." 

"Should you have the skill to do so Sir!" The other responded, and his hand fell to his rapier. 

Terence watched him draw the blade neatly. He could easily have struck him down as he drew, but he could not strike a man so disadvantaged. He waited warily, and spoke. "Then let us dismount and settle this in gentlemanly manner." 

He saw the younger man nod his assent, and they both swung down from their steeds and faced each other squarely. They circled their rapiers, testing. The traveller lunged first, but Terence deflected and riposted. He in turn was blocked. Now it seemed they were quite evenly matched, but Terence was the more determined of the two and after two or three minutes of swordplay he appeared to have the measure of the other. "Yield Sir, I do not wish to harm you."

The other raised his eyebrows. "No? But you mean to hurt my pocket, and my pride!" Suddenly he lunged. The edge of his blade flicked across Terence's left arm, slicing the doublet, and Terence felt a sharp sting. At almost the same moment he brought his own blade down on the other's and twisted around it, striking it from his opponent's grip and landing it on the ground. 

Through teeth gritted against the pain which was searing his arm he growled, "Now you yield Sir!"

The other inclined his head, and held still as Terence's blade stood at his throat. "I yield."

The highwayman had his victim turn out his purse and pouches, and his saddlebags. The total sum was significant but not overly so. He pocketed the man's gold, all but two sovereigns, and also left him his silver and his personal possessions. He fought to suppress the wave of pain which was beginning to assail him, hoping he concealed it successfully from his victim. "Thank you Sir, I take what I need. I regret that I must deprive such a spirited defender of his property. Good day Sir!"

Somehow he swung himself back up onto his mare and spurred her back the way he had come. Only when he was sure the other was not in pursuit did he pull back to a trot. His vision was clouding with the throbbing pain in his arm. He reached the crossroads, turned back towards the village, and at the first spinney dismounted heavily. He tore off the kerchief from around his face and knotted it tightly around his arm just above the cut, then pulled himself with difficulty back onto his horse and rode as fast as he could manage. The journey seemed an endless nightmare. He drifted in semi-consciousness through throbbing waves of pain. The wound was not too deep, he knew that. But God it was sore! Pain, more than loss of blood, was what afflicted him. 

At last he spied the gleam of light from houses ahead. He sighed relief, lying low in his saddle now. Soon he was back in the courtyard and handed his mare to the ostler boy, trying to hide his wound. He gave him a small coin, asking good attention for his steed and hoping this might encourage silence as regards her rider. Then he slipped in by the back way and sought out their room.

He knocked at the door. Heard Joanna's "Come!" and entered. She was sitting writing something, looked up, and saw his death-white face and his uncertain step as he closed the door. She rose rapidly, face anguished, and came to him. Only then did she note his arm. There was a dark dampness sticking the doublet to his upper arm. "Gods Terence, let me tend you."

He smiled relieved thanks as he sank onto the bed, leaning back against the wall for support. He heard her say something. Perhaps it was "Water"? His eyes closed in exhaustion. The next he knew she was bathing his arm. My God how that stung! He looked at the wound. The cut traced an angry red line right across the muscle, mid-way between shoulder and elbow. It was quite deep but nowhere touching the bone, it seemed the good doublet had saved him that. The bitter-sweet smell of herbs wafted to him from the basin with its reddened contents. Joanna tore off a strip of cloth from the bottom of a cotton underskirt and bound it tight over the clean wound. "Sleep now dear", he heard her say. And he did, falling into the blessed relief of unconsciousness as she held him close.

Joanna sat cradling the man in her arm. Gods, she thought. It seems this highwayman is not such a professional as I had assumed. She wondered how he had fared in his endeavour. After she had stripped him and moved him fully onto the bed, she looked in his pouch and saw that he had probably gained some profit from this evening. But at a cost! She wondered at how protective she felt towards him. Finally, she too fell into an exhausted sleep.

In the night, when either of them stirred, an arm would pull the other closer. They passed a night of fitful sleep for both parties. When Terence awoke in the morning, as his eyes flickered open, he caught Joanna gazing at him with a look which stroked his heart-strings. She quickly composed her expression into one of less explicitly devoted concern as she realised he was conscious. He smiled weakly. "Thank you for your ministrations to me this last night, Joanna."

"It was no more than I must do for any who is hurt. How do you feel now?"

"Much better. A little weak. Hungry!"

"Ah good, then you are already on the mend I think. Let me fetch breakfast." She disappeared for a few minutes, returning with a large and well-loaded tray. She set it on the chest, and poured Terence a mug of small beer. He drank thirstily while she prepared him a platter of cold meats and cheese and bread. This he wolfed down hungrily under her watchful gaze. She nodded finally, with apparent satisfaction. "Yes, you are on the mend. Now, tell me what transpired yester-eve."

He related the full tale while she listened in rapt silence. When he told of his forbearance at the other's drawing his blade she shook her head and tutted, but her smile belied her actions. She was in truth pleased to find this man no common criminal, and indeed it came as no surprise. Again she smiled as he described how, even after wounding, he had not tried to injure his opponent, and yet again, when he told of what he left in the man's possession. At the end of the story she patted his hand with affection and sighed. "You are too generous a man to be a true highwayman I think." Her face grew shadowed with concern. "And you live dangerously. One day I fear you may suffer far more than this nasty scratch."

They regarded each other seriously. Then her eyes twinkled mischievously. "I think you must let me look after you, partner. I will take you in hand."

His expression ran through anger and on into something she could not quite read. With his one good arm he reached suddenly for her neck and pulled her unresisting down into a deep kiss. Ah, now she had it, he had returned her look of mischief with one of his own! She mused briefly on how she hoped to see more of that look in future. But then her attention was drawn back entirely into the kiss.



Highwaymen Ch. 10



Today Terence rested, waited upon and, he felt, a little fussed-over by his pretty young companion. Still, they way he as feeling it was pleasant to be cosseted and he did not complain. The wound stung evilly and his whole arm throbbed somewhat. He drifted in and out of sleep, dozing for half an hour at a time. As the afternoon was disappearing into a darkening twilight he awoke fully, and saw Joanna re-entering the room. She smiled at him, then crossed her arms and put on a determined look. "Terence, you sweated much with your wound and the exertions of yester-eve. You need a bath!" 

He looked at her, opening his mouth to protest, but then thought it over. He was indeed sticky with sweat from the fight and the nightmare ride. It would feel good to be clean again. He nodded his assent. Joanna disappeared yet again and returned a few minutes later carrying the bathtub between herself and Rosie. The wench gave Terence a sidelong glance and then sneaked a conspiratorial smile at Joanna, who ignored the look as she concentrated on positioning the tub to her satisfaction. The two women left the room, but soon returned each carrying large pitchers of hot water, and accompanied by a boy carrying a third pitcher. These were emptied into the tub, and steam began to rise. All three departed, and a few minutes later came back with more pitchers whose contents were also dumped into the tub. Joanna nodded her satisfaction, and said something to the other two, too low for Terence to catch. They left. 

"Now!" Joanna's expression was strange, Terence thought, as she rolled up her sleeves. "Let me help you Terence." 

He began to rise from the bed, but as he stood he felt suddenly unsteady and swayed a little. Joanna was ready with a steadying arm below his shoulders. She led him towards the tub, supporting him as he stepped in, and bent down as he settled into it. "Good", he heard her say. The water was hot, but not too hot. Soothing and relaxing. He closed his eyes and leaned back. He heard a little splash, then felt hands rubbing soap over his chest and forearms. "Ahh ...". That felt so good! He sighed, and drifted half asleep as Joanna spent a long time gently working his soapy chest and upper belly, almost massaging him. If he had opened his eyes he would have seen her serene and satisfied smile as she tended to him thus. 

"Wake up Terence dear." The words jolted him from his drowsy state, and he looked at the girl with questioning eyes. "Lean forward". She soaped his back, her hands moving in long caresses, sometimes her fingers digging deep into the over-tightened muscles, working away the tension. Terence groaned happily when she found those knots and worked them. After some while she washed his upper arms, very careful around the wound, which she did not touch but left beneath the makeshift bandage.

"Can you stand now? I need to wash you properly." He smiled, wanting more of this attention. It was a bliss to be in the hands of this pretty young woman! As he arose from the water, pushing up on the sides of the tub with his one good arm, she stood close, ready with a hand should it be needed. He stood steadily, and after she had watched him a moment to be sure he was not about to collapse, she bent down to the tub and lathered her hand, soaping and cleaning his thighs. When that was finished her hands glided over his balls, then cradled them. She lifted them as if weighing his sac which dangled loose from the heat of the bath, and now his cock began to stiffen. Joanna's gaze rose to his face, held him in an intense stare, her smile partially eclipsed by a mixture of desire and mischief. Her eyebrows rose as her fingers slid up to grasp the shaft, working the quickly stiffening rod in her soapy grip. She watched his expression of delight, watching with a serious concentration now, her smile gone. She seemed to be gauging him. As Terence started to moan and move his hips a little, thrusting into her hand on each down-stroke, she began to work him harder. Then, as she saw his expression evidence the approach of his climax she stopped suddenly. His eyes widened, and he spoke, the words jerked from him in gasps, "Joanna, don't stop!" 

She chuckled throatily. "Don't stop!" she mimicked. Then her voice pitched low. "Terence dear man, if you want that reward you must humour me a little." 

Terence saw the strange look on her face as she uttered those words. It was measuring, almost predatory. He started an angry response, but stopped before half a word had escaped his lips. The look he returned to her was also measuring, but hungry too. He needed release, he wanted the attention of her expert hand, or better yet her mouth, or to be buried in her sex, fucking himself and her into ecstasy. Yet he could see that at this moment she was not ready to bend to his whim. And he did not have the strength right now to fight, he still felt weakened. He swallowed the words unsaid and returned, as calmly as he could manage, but also betraying a degree of curiosity he had not intended, "Humour you? How so girl?"

Her face made a little grimace. "No, don't call me 'girl'! That's not the way to humour me!" She shook her head briskly, her hair flying and eyes flashing. Terence suppressed a smile as he admired her beauty in that moment. He was at least sensible enough not to try her further. "How then woman?"

She smiled, her expression returning to that fascinating mix of desire and authority which he had glimpsed a few minutes before. "Humour me by accepting what I do to you, Terence. You will enjoy it, I promise you, but don't be shy in accepting my ministrations."

Terence looked confused. He had felt entirely happy with all her ministrations, and nodded his acquiescence. Joanna's expression became focused, intense once more, as she re-soaped her hands and knelt to fondle his sac. He groaned happily again as she slowly rolled his balls between thumb and fingers, testing their size and shape. She toyed with them a long time, alternately regarding his face and his cock. Both showed clear evidence of his pleasure. When a beaded string of pre-cum was dangling from the tip of his cock she caught it in a finger, which she rubbed over the very tip of his glans, back and forth across the tiny opening. She heard the man's sigh and moan, saw that he was getting close again. "Not yet!" she whispered. "Trust me, I will make it worth the wait." She tried to stifle a laugh but could not help letting a little giggle escape as she saw Terence's strained expression. "I will," she cooed, "indeed I will."

Now her hands left his sex entirely, and traced along the join of thigh and belly, fingertips light and tickling. God, that was good too! His eyes half closed. He felt her hands move, both of them, to his thigh, then around behind. He heard the slight rustling of her skirt as she repositioned herself behind him. Now a hand caressed each buttock, circling, pausing to squeeze small handfuls of flesh. She caught up the soap again, and lathered his upper thighs, buttocks and lower back with long and lingering hand-strokes. Terence half-drowsed again. 

"Mm, what a pretty ass. It looks good in white soapsuds, good in red stripes too." Joanna whispered the words in a sing-song, musing tone. "Must make sure it's clean." 

Terence felt a finger slide down the base his spine, between his ass cheeks. It flicked across the puckers of his asshole, and he clamped his cheeks together. "Mphh. No!" 

"Oh Terence. Be easy, I am doing nothing bad." Her tone was calm and soothing. Terence forced himself to relax, trying not to feel so embarrassed at what she did. It had felt so good! He waited, wanting the fingers back, yet feeling awkward that he should want such a thing. 

Joanna repeated the long downward stroke, felt him begin to tense as she approached the bud, and stopped, tutting at him. "Relax, be easy." 

He made a conscious effort to relax, and the finger continued downward, running in a little circle over the puckered flesh. He moaned at that.

"Good. Yes, that's right." Joanna's finger teased the puckers, pushed at them, then dallied at the entrance, and he tensed again. She chuckled a possessive laugh, and again cooed "Oh Terence dear." Her finger danced lightly at the entrance. He groaned, wanting more yet not wanting to admit it. But he needed release soon! He willed himself to relax. Her finger invaded, the soapy digit sliding in easily. She loved the squeeze of his sphincter around her finger as it slid in, then she began to slide her finger gently in and out. Terence moaned, and she felt a little triumph that she had persuaded him to accept this. She wanted him to experience all the joys she could provide, and one day ... she smiled ... one day he would find more than a finger inside him. She plied a little stronger, and then, as the motion became strident she felt him pushing against the motion. Her pleasure escaped her lips, "Yes! Yes! Dear God, yes eat my finger!" She smiled wide, and reached between his thighs with her free hand, grasped the base of his shaft in slowly tightening fingers. 

Terence groaned loudly. God! The combined arousal of cock and anus was driving him mad with need. He was deeply embarrassed at his wanton response to that finger pumping into him, but it felt too good! Suddenly he felt the pumping stop and the finger withdrawn. Despite himself he emitted a little gasp which spoke his sense of loss. Then he heard Joanna's low voice, growling almost. "Now I'll give you release." She moved in front of him, kneeling with her face close to his hard, dripping cock. Again she grasped the shaft, encircling it in her fingers, thumb and forefinger at the glans. Her other hand reached between his thighs. "Bear down!" she half-whispered, and he bore down, eagerly swallowing the finger. She stroked in and out faster now, as her hands worked in unison on both cock and asshole. Her eyes were upturned to his face, watching his ecstasy build. At the last moment, when he gasped and she felt her finger grasped tighter, she opened her mouth wide, and moved over his cock. The first droplets of his cum spurted into her mouth as she did so, and then her lips encircled his shaft, and his milk spasmed onto the roof of her mouth, then her tongue. Her eyes closed as she savoured the salty delicacy. Terence's hands moved to her head. He pulled her onto him so her face was buried at his groin and she swallowed the full length of his sex., and held her there for a while.

Then his hands began to stroke her hair. She pulled back, her eyes shining bright, blinking, and looked up at him. She was grinning. "Mmm. So good." She mumbled. 

Terence's eyes, tender and warm, met hers. His laboured breathing gradually quieted. His eyebrows rose suddenly and he smiled. "Sweet Jesus, what are you? How do you give me so much pleasure?"

She smiled back somewhat smugly. "I know many secrets, and you shall learn them all if you are willing!" Then she reached out her tongue and licked the last droplet of cum from the very tip of his cock. Her breasts were heaving. Suddenly her voice was less assured, more plaintive. "I need to come too Terence. Can you pleasure me?" Her gaze fell again to his cock, which was still half-hard.

"In a moment, yes." 

Joanna stood, and kissed him on the mouth. Terence kissed back, tasted himself on her tongue. After a little she pulled from the kiss, sighing. She hastily rinsed off the last vestiges of soap, and dried him. Then she deftly loosened her stays and stepped out of her dress, leaving only an underskirt. Her nipples were hard and proud. "Come to the bed." She lowered her eyes, and knew her expression was enticing. She held his hand and they moved over to the bed. "Will you lie back, and let me ride atop you, to save your arm?" She begged it nicely, and he could not have refused.

"Aye girl ... I mean woman." He chuckled. "You are definitely all woman!" And he lay back on the bed, careful of his injured arm. 

Joanna climbed above, kneeling astride him, and leant forward to suckle at his nipples. Soon his cock had hardened once again. She moved forward and started to lower herself onto his member. He held it upright, and she gradually slid down, feeling him press her deep. She leant forward to exchange another kiss, then leaned back. Terence sighed at the pull, the changed pressure on his cock, and reached for her breasts. He stroked their silky skin, and then as she moved upright once again he grasped her nipples and squeezed gently. Joanna's expression moved into bliss. She began to ride his stiff cock, bumping up and down on him, faster and faster. She had been very much aroused at the start of their play, and now it would not take long for her to climax. Almost immediately she felt a little peak ripple through her, and continued with renewed vigour. 

She gasped "Hurt me! Twist. Pull. Be mean." And felt his instant response as his fingers squeezed her nipples cruelly. She felt his cock buck inside her, and cried out. He loosened his grip. 

She wailed "Noo! Harder." And in response he clamped the poor buds tight, twisted them viciously, pulled them, stretching her tits out and down. The pain shot down from breasts to groin, adding to the pleasure she felt already from her hard riding. Now she felt the big climax build from deep within. It washed over her like a wave, submerging her being, tugging her into an uncontrollable, frighteningly intense reality. She moaned loudly as she came, and felt the hot waters trickling from their combined sexes down her thighs, over his groin and belly. Then she fell forward, and his arms encircled her shoulders, pulling her back from the abyss of deepest climax into a warm physicality. She lay shuddering upon him. He was muttering soothing words. "Joanna. Dear one." Finally his voice, soft and caring, penetrated to her, and she recovered the power of speech once more. 

"My God!" She gasped. "Oh my!"



Highwaymen Ch. 11



They ate a light meal in their room early that evening, and played cards for a while after. Joanna was relieved that Terence's arm seemed not to be troubling him over-much. Often he caught a curious smile on her face. He assumed it was after this afternoon's play, which had been awesome indeed! He was beginning to overcome the awkwardness he had felt concerning that particularly attention and his own wanton response to it. He was not a prude, and was prepared to learn any new tricks of love if they brought pleasure. So he did not question her strange expressions, although as the evening wore on they seemed to come more frequently. They had drunk well, though not excessively, of red wine during the evening. Quite early, Joanna stood up decisively. "Let's to bed, Terence. I think you still need rest." Again she smiled that secret, conspiratorial smile which had been playing around her face off and on all evening.

Terence remonstrated mildly "I am recovered, don't fuss Joanna." But he allowed her to lead him to the bed, and they both undressed and climbed in. Joanna put out the candles, and soon Terence was sleeping soundly.

The next he knew, he felt a soft body pushing against his chest and thighs. He reached out an arm around her shoulders. They felt different, a little broader and rounder, but he was still half asleep. A giggle sounded, again seeming not quite right, but he did not rouse fully. Then he felt something touch his back. Another body! He started, his eyes flying open. "What? What's happening!" Two giggles greeted him, Joanna's from behind, and Rosie's from before him. The buxom wench was rubbing her body against him. Now she spoke.

"Master Terence, don't be angry." Her full breasts were rubbing against his chest, dragging over his nipples. "Mistress Celeste said I should come, that it would be a rare treat for us all."

"Mistress Celeste? 

Terence started to question "Who?" but Joanna cut in quickly. "I sometimes like to be called Celeste. Rosie knows me by that name."

She started caressing his back, running her fingertips in long strokes down his spine and onto his buttocks. Meanwhile Rosie was snuggling closer still, her arms pulling him tight to her bosom. He saw the swell of her breasts and their deep cleavage just below his mouth, and was impelled to dive down to lick and suck. Rosie squealed in delight and Joanna laughed happily. "Yes Terence, please the wench. She is a comely one, is she not?" 

Terence flushed. He had never in his life had two women! He half wondered if he was still asleep and dreaming. Joanna began to rub against his back, and he felt her hardened nipples against his skin. Her breath was coming faster already, as was his own. Suddenly she spoke in a tone of command. "Rosie, we should have light, let's show Terence plainly what a lucky man he is!" 

Rosie sighed but immediately rolled out of the bed, found the tinderbox and lit a candle. From that she lit two more, placing them by the bed. Then she knelt, straddling Terence, and reached for the lantern which hung above the bed-head. She lifted it down and lit it, then stretched back up to replace it. As she did so Terence was presented a full view of her sex directly above him, not at all hidden by the short pale gold curls. He saw her dark inner lips peeking out between the lighter outer. He saw how different her sex was from Joanna's, and pondered deliciously for a moment how a woman's sex was such an individual part of her anatomy. He gasped and clasped her waist in his hands, reaching up towards that goal, licking his lips. But Joanna's hand intruded, her fingers deftly parting the lips, holding Rosie open wider to his gaze. He heard her throaty words "Be patient a while Terence, Rosie and I will give you something to savour, something which will arouse you mightily I think." 

Rosie's legs were trembling slightly at Joanna's strident touch. Terence lowered his head back to the pillow and watched in fascination. Joanna's hand began to stroke the golden curls lightly, every now and then grasping a few of the hairs and pulling. Rosie moaned, but seemed unable or unwilling to move from her position above him. As Joanna climbed astride him too, Terence wondered what she was about. She moved her hand back, caressing the young wench's lips as she did so, then as her hand slipped between the girl's thighs she grasped each buttock firmly and spread the cheeks wide. Rosie squealed in what Terence thought a protest, but then sighed in evident desire. "See how pretty her little rosebud asshole is! Which of us shall enjoy it first?" Joanna's face was full of delight and mischief as she looked down at Terence. "Will you let me?" 

Terence could do nothing but nod. Right now, he thought, any speech he attempted would likely come out as a strangled squeak. Joanna nodded a thank you and dipped her face between Rosie's buttocks, her tongue protruding as she neared her target. Terence reached his hand up to the girl's tempting cunt, and started to stroke as Rosie wriggled at Joanna's attentions. Then he pushed in two fingers, she was so ready that they slid in without the least resistance, swallowed in her warm wet flesh. He searched for the right place as he stroked in and out of her while Joanna still lapped at her. Suddenly he found the hardening spot, and as he stroked across it again, and yet again, Rosie cried out and collapsed downwards onto him. She squatted on his chest, panting loudly, eyes wild. 

Joanna was crouching on the bed next to them both now, looking somewhat put out. Terence guessed that she had herself planned to bring Rosie to her climax first, and rather more slowly than he had achieved. He knew how she hated to have her plans thwarted and he couldn't help smiling in satisfaction. 

Rosie's heaving and sobbing breaths subsided quickly, and she climbed off him. Terence watched her round, tempting ass, slapping it hard as she departed. Rosie cried out in surprise and moved to lie down on her stomach, her head towards the two others, her eyes shining a replete happiness. Joanna bent down and kissed her deeply, then turned to Terence and kissed him too. 

Their kiss was hot and hungry, their tongues wrestling. When Joanna lifted from the kiss her expression was just a little cross. Terence smiled back, feigning innocence, then grabbed her head and pulled her back down. Her eyebrows shot up, she even uttered a little protest, but he had taken her by surprise. He held her head firmly and extracted a long deep kiss, his tongue possessing her before she had a chance to resist. She was mumbling protest, then she bit his tongue. Not too hard, not dangerously, but it hurt enough to stop him a moment. She shifted onto him, straddling his belly, as she managed to escape his hand and straighten up, looking down at him with a mix of fury and desire. Her hand flew to slap his face, but Terence's arm deflected the blow. Suddenly he was angry. He reached for her, grasping her upper arms, but could not hold well with his injured arm. Joanna threw herself forward, landing firmly, hands and knees pinning his arms just below the elbows, and looked down at him. Their furious eyes locked. "Eat me!" she grated. 

Terence looked up at her. "Not until I've spanked you!" Suddenly his expression was not threat but pure hunger. "I know you enjoyed it before, and I want to see your ass reddening across my lap again." 

Joanna's face went through a slow transformation as she regained control and considered. "If I agree to be spanked, then I'll have you eat me after!" 

Terence's reply was a wide smile and a chuckle. "Hmm ... I don't think I've ever struck a better bargain in my life."

He commanded Joanna to lie across his lap, recruited Rosie to hold her arms fast, and started a slow rhythmic spanking. Thank God his right arm was not the injured limb! He was surprised how very quickly the sight and sound and feel of it aroused him. He knew Joanna could not be unaware of its effect. She lay and suffered, or rather enjoyed, his attentions for some time before she began to wriggle and writhe. 

At that point Terence commanded Rosie, "Fetch Joanna's hairbrush." 

Rosie fetched it and, when she offered it to him, her eyes wide, she was looking almost jealous. Terence filed that information away for later use. Right now he needed to concentrate on inflicting a full dose of pain-pleasure on Joanna. 

"Hold her arms fast now Rosie." He began to further redden Joanna's cheeks, spanking each in turn until they were angry red and beginning to bruise slightly. Still she just lay and writhed beneath the blows, emitting little incoherent exclamations interspersed with an occasional "Ow!"

Then he attacked her thighs, raining heavy blows which rewarded him with more anguished howls, until he had the girl red and stinging from knee to waist. She was bucking on his lap now, gasping. "Please Terence." He could feel her heat and the wetness as she tried to fuck his thighs. 

"What was our deal Joanna?"

She wailed desperately "I don't remember. Finish me Terence, please." 

He ran his hand roughly over her sore ass, making her squeal. The he patted her rump and commanded abruptly, "Get off me girl, and lie on your back."

Joanna obeyed, crawling from him and positioning herself gingerly on the bed. 

"Open you legs wider!" As she complied he dipped down between her thighs and began to tease her, biting and pulling at her hairs, while she reached down and desperately tried to force his mouth onto her yearning pussy lips. 

"Rosie, kneel on Mistress' s arms and ... ". He was concentrating on what he was at now, he couldn't think about what Rosie might do, so he finished lamely. "Just do what you want to do with her Rosie."

He began to push his tongue a little deeper into the hot swamp of her cunt, but he still would not give her what she needed. His whole face was slick from her juices.

"Terence. Fuck you! Finish me."

He chuckled low into her. When I'm ready girl." And then laughed wickedly at her wailed response.

Terence was dimly aware of Rosie's bending to lick at Joanna's nipples when she began to buck even harder. He continued to toy with her, nibbling, prodding, licking softly. All the while he felt Joanna's body begging him to bring her to climax.

Finally, deciding he had teased and tortured her enough, he started to work on her clit, sucking the little bud up and then releasing rhythmically. As he felt her begin to tremble he thrust his tongue deep, and then at last she was coming, shuddering, bathing his face in her hot juices. He held her thighs, his left arm slightly awkward, as she trembled her way past her climax, until finally she collapsed back and was still. 

He moved up beside Rosie, looking down at Joanna's face. She returned his triumphant gaze looking, he was surprised to see, almost meek for a little. Then her expression changed. 

"You cunt!" she spoke the obscenity with admiration in her voice, and smiled.

"Yes, I'm learning girl," he returned, his smile serenely confident.



Highwaymen Ch. 12



It was around noon when they finally awoke. Joanna stretched her arms and legs like a cat, flexing wrists and ankles. As she moved from the bed the others stirred. Rosie looked aghast as she realised how late in the day it was already, but Joanna quickly assured the girl she would see her right with the landlord, and Terence added his own reassurance. Very hastily they dressed. Terence fished out a gold coin from his pouch as he and Joanna escorted Rosie, who now looked flushed and flustered once again, down to the landlord. 

Terence had to suppress a laugh at the man's expression as he saw them approach, each holding one of Rosie's arms. He clearly had no idea how to react. He started to scold Rosie, but Terence cut in with an explanation, then as his words began to stumble Joanna took them up, explaining that the girl had been prevailed upon to help them prepare for departure, and saying they would pay him more than fairly to make amends for purloining one of his staff. Terence passed him the coin, and his manner changed abruptly. Rosie scurried off towards the kitchen. 

Back in the room the two companions began an argument over payment. Terence found that Joanna, since his wounding, had quite a different opinion of their stay in the inn and wished to pay her half. But he was adamant that it had been his wish alone which had brought them here, and his fault that he had taken hurt. In the end Joanna gave way. Then they dressed, both in their various blacks, though Joanna could not put on some of her manly disguise to be seen here.

It emptied a good part of his purse as he paid their bill and tipped the landlord well, saying how he looked forward to returning soon. He also purchased more victuals to add to those which Joanna had already packed. The landlord was pleasant and would clearly be eager for more of their custom in the future, despite whatever it was they might do with his serving-wench. Joanna asked him to tell Rosie to look for them in the stables, and they strode through to find their mounts. After they had checked the horses and found them well cared for Joanna beat Terence to her pouch in tipping the stable-lad. 

As they led their mounts into the yard Rosie came out. She looked upset to see them leaving, and Joanna caught her in one arm and hugged her, then Terence joined the scrum and all three clung together for a few moments, kissing and saying their farewells. After they broke apart the companions mounted and rode off into the mid-afternoon, turning and waving to the girl until they were out of sight. 

Then Terence and Joanna joined eyes, and their mutual gaze spoke of a deepened affection and a shared regret at leaving Rosie. Terence drew a deep breath. "Well my dear companion, we are back on the road. And tonight we will sleep under the stars again, which should suit you. How long it seems already since that first eventful night!" 

Joanna smiled back with warmth. She started to reply "Aye my love ..." and covered the slip by finishing "... of all things natural is strong. It will indeed be pleasant to sleep outdoors again." Terence smiled wider at her transparent attempt to cover that little word.

They rode on, both deep in thought. Then of a sudden Joanna broke into her throaty, most mischievous laugh. As Terence turned questioning eyes to her she held them levelly with her own and raised her eyebrows archly. "I was just thinking how much we have done, how in such a short time we have loved in quite a number of ways already!" 

"Some of them entirely new to me." His reply was almost awed.

"And ...", her eyes glittered hungrily, "I still have much to show you, if you will dare it."

"Oh I think I will dare it!"

"Be careful what you commit to my man, you do not yet know the half of what I can offer!" 

"Do I not? Yet I trust you woman. And I look forward to whatever surprises you may find for me. And to finding more surprises for you too."

She brooded on that a moment. "Indeed, you have surprised me once or twice already, particularly in your proclivity for inflicting pain. And that pleases me much!" She looked at him boldly, her eyes challenging, and their smiles engaged once more as he threw back her challenge with apparent ease. 

His musings ran the gamut of loving in all the forms he had experienced with this girl. Then later he began to consider the replenishment of their purses. He had for a long time thought of a particular, likely very profitable interception of a mail-coach, not half a day's ride from here, but it had seemed too risky, given that it was known the driver and his mate were both pistol-armed. But, with the two of them working together, it would be a different matter!

"Well now my lady highwayman, we have a bargain struck. I have been thinking on our first joint business venture."

She tossed her head at him. "Then tell me!" And for the next half hour they discussed their intended business amiably, though she was still adamant that she should choose the place. They rode slowly, and after two or three hours Terence found his arm was growing stiff once more. He flexed it awkwardly, and Joanna's quick eyes caught the move with concern. 

"Terence! You need rest." She looked ahead, spotted a likely copse. "There! We'll look for a sheltered spot in that little wood."

She led the way, dismounting first at the edge of the stand of trees and helping him down from his mare. They threaded through the trees until they found a rough spot large enough to accommodate them. Then, tethering their horses, they gathered up twigs and branches for a fire. Terence scraped out a hearth in the earth, clearing all vegetation to a safe distance, and set the fire. Soon they had a good little blaze going. Joanna sought out fish and vegetables and barley, and a few dried leaves of herbs from amongst their good store of provender, and set all to stewing in a pan of water sitting over the fire. 

In less than an hour 's time Terence was sniffing at the tempting aroma hungrily, while Joanna urged him to patience so that the barley should be well softened before they ate. "You will get a belly ache if you don't wait, you boy!" she growled, smiling saucily. Terence found that the particular intonation with which she uttered the word "boy" sent a quite surprisingly pleasant tingle coursing down his spine, so he made no protest at the epithet. Joanna noted this lack of complaint smugly. Terence praised his companion's domestic skills profusely as they ate their fill.

By now it was grown dark and the companions doused the fire and set off for their intersection with the main turnpike, only a few miles distant. Once there, they spied out the land. Inevitably they disagreed over where was the best point to waylay the stagecoach, but they had struck a bargain and so Terence necessarily gave way, though not before he had voiced some protest. 

Then Joanna disappeared into the spinney she had chosen for the interception, carrying one of her saddlebags. When she re-emerged a few minutes later Terence smiled. "Now you are the man indeed!" He looked at her chest. Now that he knew the secret hidden under doublet and shirt and tight-laced corset he could see that the little swelling was not quite the right shape for a man, but none would remark it unless they already knew the secret, he was sure. He found himself strangely aroused by her appearance, her blue eyes bright and glittering in the thin strip of flesh revealed between black kerchief and dark, flowing hair. Her movement as always was lithe and her smile when it crinkled at the corners of her eyes was winsome. 

When he sighed, Joanna knew he was feeling lustful. It pleased her well to know how he reacted, and more so that he found her alluring in such unlikely garb. Once more her thoughts strayed to musing on what she might yet teach this man who was older but, in some things at least, much less experienced than she. With effort she pulled her mind back to the task at hand, and prepared her pistols. 

Meanwhile Terence donned his kerchief, and was rewarded with an appreciative smile in return as the girl saw his dark eyes sparkling. Then he prepared his own pistol, and loosened his rapier in its sheath. 

"Well, here's to our first business together!" Terence proffered his hand, and she grasped it. Each hand clasped strongly as their eyes met. 

"May we bring each other good fortune." she returned.

Now they came to the tense and tedious time of waiting. Their horses were tethered out of sight, although scarcely a dozen paces away. The companions stood, or leaned against a tree, now and then pacing silently under the shadows. Time seemed to stretch and stretch. At long last a sound reached them, the rattle of the coach as it bumped its way along the road. They were stationed at a rise and watched their victim all the way.

Finally, when it was perhaps ten paces away and travelling quite slowly, the two stepped boldly out into the road. "Stand, and deliver!" Joanna's voice rang out commandingly. Next to the driver was a guard who immediately reached towards his waistband. 

"Don't give us cause to shoot you man!" Terence held his tone low to convey his menace. The man, who was perhaps in his mid-thirties, did the sensible thing, and both highwaymen were greatly relieved that they need not execute their threat. 

"Come down slowly, both of you!" Terence left Joanna to keep the two safely under the muzzles of her pistols, whilst he strode to the carriage. Someone was beginning to open the door, calling out to the driver, "What is the cause of this delay?"

The highwayman caught the door and swung it wide with his left hand, whilst his right levelled his pistol at the emerging gentleman who, suddenly aware of the weapon, froze with one foot on the coach step and one aground. Terence raised his voice and spoke clearly, so that all inside and out should hear his words. "Be certain Sir, I will not discharge my weapon unless I am forced to it. If you and your travelling companions would kindly step out of the coach, I will not detain you long, and you will all be unhurt, you have my word!"

Now Terence stepped away from the coach, and watched the man dismount. He peered past him into the gloomy interior, seeking any sign of a firearm, but none showed. A woman emerged also and stepped up beside her companion. Terence surmised she was the other's wife.

"Who else is there, come out now! It will go ill if I must come after you!" A young woman emerged, her arm supported by an older man who stepped awkwardly. The woman's eyes flashed scorn. 

"Coward!" She hissed towards Terence, who inclined his head in the slightest of bows by way of acknowledgement.

The two men were quickly relieved of most of their valuables and money, but when the older woman began to pull at her rings, Terence stopped her. "Nay madam, I will not deprive you of your rings." 

He instructed them all to move away from the coach, whilst he climbed up and investigated the baggage. He found some more money there, and then swung back down to the ground, grimacing and biting his lip as he felt the pull on his injured shoulder. 

"Back inside, all of you!" He waved the pistol in encouragement and the travellers hastened into the safety of the coach. The young woman narrowed her eyes at him, and he chuckled, finding that he had a sudden urge to have her across his lap! Ah, he must curb his thoughts and desires whilst he was at business.

He joined Joanna. Together they watched hawk-eyed as the driver and guard returned to their seat, then Joanna waved them onwards. The two stood side by side and watched the coach dwindle into the night. Then Joanna turned towards Terence. "How did we fare, lo ..." 

Terence smiled inwardly as the girl caught her words for a second time this evening. He spread the valuables before her. "It is not so much as I had hoped, but 'twil keep us for a week or two."

"Terence!" Her eyes pierced him. "Why did you not take something of the women's jewels, they were rich enough?" 

"It is not how I do things Joanna, it would seem ... ungentlemanly." He knew it sounded foolish.

Joanna laughed scornfully. "You fool, you are merely playing at this profession of highwayman. Taking all the risks and knocks but little of the gain! Next time we will swap places. I shall divest our captives of their goods whilst you guard."

Terence looked first annoyed, then chagrined. As his expression changed, Joanna's own heart went from anger to warm affection, She pulled down her kerchief and then his, and looked into his face. "You are like a little boy sometimes you know, my Terence. And it is somewhat lovely to behold." She reached her hands to his cheeks and drew him to her in a deep kiss. But as his hands went around her waist she pulled back suddenly, though panting desire. "Gods! We must away. If we tarry here we will be caught." 

He answered gruffly, mastering his own already mounting passion, "Aye my girl." Terence unconsciously countered her seeing him as a boy with his use of that word 'girl', but on this occasion she seemed not at all annoyed at its use.

Returning to their mounts, Terence thrust their takings into his saddlebag, and they cantered away from the scene of their crime. They rode for two hours alternating canter and walk, then rested themselves and their horses for a little, then rode on another two hours. It was the early hours of the morning now. They had ridden mostly northwestward, by lanes and byways, and now, in a large wood, they found a safe and secluded resting place. 

They were hot and tired, and lay down to sleep almost as soon as the horses were tethered, stopping merely to strip off their outer garments and spread a blanket on the ground. Collapsing onto it they lay side by side and fell into a deep and refreshing sleep. 



Highwaymen Ch. 13



It was well past sunrise when Terence awoke. He lay with his eyes still closed. Already he could feel the warmth of the sun as it filtered between the leaves and branches overhead, and against his side the warmth of the young woman, his companion. He mused how good it was to wake with her at his side. In such a very few nights it had become a habit he would not willingly forgo. He opened his eyes and turned towards her, and almost jumped when he was met by her wide open, clear blue eyes staring at him. She smiled, and his heart leapt painfully in his breast. 

"Did you sleep well old man?" Her voice was deep and vibrant, almost husky. She had lain watching him for perhaps half an hour, learning the lines of his face, the fall of his long hair, the pattern of his breathing. She felt profoundly happy.

"I did indeed, young girl." He replied as lightly as he could manage, though he was moved by the intensity of regard he had seen in those pretty eyes. What a lovely thing she was, a wild animal and yet an incarnation of womanhood. He had read of wood-nymphs, and here in this wood he imagined she might be such: a Dryad. His cock hardened and struggled to rise within his breeches.

He reached carefully around her shoulder with his injured arm and pulled her closer. She snuggled down against his breast, wrinkling her nose as his whiskers tickled, but happy to inhale the strong scent of him. Her own arm sneaked around his back and squeezed them closer yet. She pushed her hip against his groin, and squealed delight when she felt the hard bone of his arousal. She wriggled and pushed inwards at it. 

Suddenly Terence growled in need and rolled her roughly onto her back. He knelt astride her legs, gasping. "I must have you now Joanna!" He was pulling at his belt, and then his breeches, while she in turn wrestled hers. Then, his breeches dropped around his knees, he was dragging hers down and off. As she parted her legs in invitation he knelt between them and thrust his already-dripping sex at her cleft. He found it warm and ready, and slid straight into the wet embrace without pause or consideration. The girl cried out, but she rode back against him too.

He tore at her shirt, finding his way to the tight-laced flesh beneath as he pumped her hard. She deftly undid the bow and started to loosen the corset, but he grabbed the two sides and pulled them forcefully apart, her breasts spilling out. He grasped the nipples and squeezed hard, so that she shrieked in surprise and pain. That spurred him further, and he twisted and pulled whilst he still held the squeeze. The squeaks and gasps of his companion were music to his ears. She started to rake his back painfully with her nails and he released her breasts and slapped the left hard. "Stop that whore!"

But she would not stop. She raked him again, and he slapped her harder. Now she dug her nails into his shoulders so hard she drew blood. He gasped, and slapped her cheeks with force, forehand and then backhanded. The girl was bucking like a wild horse beneath him, and his excitement was reaching its crescendo. Never had he felt so roused to hurt and derive pleasure from the action, as he felt his partner's excitement at the treatment. "Slut!" he gasped. "Whore!" And then he was coming within her, and as he fell still except for his cock pumping its milky load into her, she was thrashing and moaning, her eyes turning upwards in their sockets, her limbs flailing in her own abandoned climax. 

Some time afterwards, when she had recovered from her orgasm, the two lay entwined a long time, nipping at each other half-playfully, but still applying little hurts to each other, a pinch here, a bite there. 

Eventually they arose, and made a breakfast of bread and dried meat and water, finishing with an apple apiece. They discussed where they would head, and Joanna finally allowed Terence to persuade her, against her better judgement, that a trip to Norwich might offer advantage. "After all," he had said, "we will be less remarked amongst the crowds of the city on market day than as two travellers on the open road." Joanna dressed in womanly apparel, a dark grey skirt added to the black blouse which she habitually wore. She stood boldly before Terence as she donned it, and he felt himself stirred once more by the attractions of her flesh. She knew it well, but made it clear when he would have dallied yet again that she would not brook more delay.

So they rode for Norwich, arriving there at noon, and threading through the narrow streets to the marketplace where they tethered their mounts and gave one of the lads a small coin to keep watch on them. Joanna placed her arm in Terence's and they strolled around the stalls. Terence bought black and red ribbons, which he handed to his pretty companion with an exaggerated bow. "I will like to see your hair bound in these." 

Joanna's response was quick. "What, will you bind only my hair Sir? I can think of rather better ways in which you might bind me!" She smiled at him. Her remark had been made quite loudly, and Terence flushed at the thought others might hear such. Seeing his discomfiture she added, speaking louder yet, "And I would like ribbons to bind you my pretty, too!" Her gaze rested boldly on his groin. She couldn't help smiling hugely at his reddening face.

Joanna's purchases were more utilitarian. She bought fruit and fresh bread, and a little spice. Terence bought a skin of wine. Suddenly, as they were leaving, a woman just one or two years older than Joanna, smartly dressed, called out, "Celeste!" and hurried towards them. For the first time since he had made her acquaintance, Terence saw his companion truly flustered. She almost turned away, cursed under her breath, then schooled her face to a smile and turned back once more. "Emily!" she returned. The women embraced warmly. 

"You are looking well Celeste. What have you been about these past few months? I have missed you, and it is strange that we meet now when we are far away from home." The woman was warm and friendly. Terence pondered her use of that name, the same which Rosie had used. 

Joanna and Emily embarked on an animated conversation, listening to which Terence learned much about his lover's former life. It seemed that Emily had known her from when they were both little. Joanna, he learned, had not lied to him about her family and past. But the name? That was beginning to irk him. He spoke. "Will you not introduce me to your friend, Joanna!" He noted Emily's surprise at the name. Joanna made the introductions. As he joined the conversation he made sure to use the name several times. And he saw Emily's expression growing more confused as she heard it repeated. Eventually the women embraced and parted. Terence decided to leave the matter of Joanna's name for now. 

They ate in a tavern just off the market square, beneath the castle, and drank well too. Each of them was rather awkward in their conversation, both aware that there was a question hanging, but neither approaching it. When they left, and had collected their mounts, they rode to the edge of town. Terence suggested that they lodge in a small inn as they passed. "Just for this night, at my expense." 

Joanna, feeling awkward still, agreed to it readily despite her own predilection for the open. They stabled their horses and carried their bags in with them, Terence greeting the landlord and securing a room for the night. It was plain and simple. When they had put down their burdens Terence came to Joanna and embraced her. She was surprised at the vehemence of his grip on her arms. He spoke softly into her ear. "And now". His voice was tight and gruff. "You will tell me why you have been having me call you 'Joanna' all this time."

The girl tried to make light of it. "Why, I have used many names, and I like Joanna."

"Ouch!" She felt his fingers bite deeper into her upper arms. 

"Tell me the truth girl. NOW." 

Suddenly he was menacing. She felt a thrill at that. But she knew that there could be no more dissembling. "It's true, Celeste is my name. I adopted the name Joanna when we met, and so I have continued it through our companionship."

"Dammit! You were so hard on me for not using my true name, and all this time you've made a fool of me!" He was shaking a little with anger.

"I'm sorry Terence." She cast down her head in contrition. 

His voice was low and menacing, "You will be." And suddenly he was dragging her back out to the inn-yard. Only the stable lad was there. Terence called to him. "A rope boy! And be quick." She started to struggle in earnest, but he held her fast. The boy returned, fearful, and proffered the rope. Terence lashed Celeste to the fence, while she kicked and struggled and swore her best. 

He bound her hands to the top bar, so she was leaning forward. Now he grasped her skirt and dragged it down to fall around her feet. That prevented her kicking for a little. He grasped her underskirt and pulled that down too, and now she was naked from the waist down. 

Celeste/Joanna was outraged, enraged, but also excited beyond belief. Terence went into the stable and strode out carrying a short horsewhip. 

Celeste's eyes went wide. "Don't you dare!"

But Terence had been intent on taking a stern revenge from the moment he learnt the truth. "I am going to beat you, you lying little cunt. And then you are going to apologise to me." 

"Fuck you!"

"Oh I may fuck you, but only after I've hurt you enough." He came to her and lifted the shirt above her breasts, so now all her charms were exposed to the world. The stable lad lurked in the corner watching in amazement. 

Suddenly the short whip was cutting her back, then her buttock, then one thigh. "Gods!" she hissed. It stung like nothing she had felt before. Yet she was already in a haze of pain, but behind it there was a warm pleasure beginning to build. She groaned. Terence attacked her, deliberately hurting her whole body from upper back to knee. She was dancing under the blows, trying to wriggle and squirm away. She hissed, and cried out, and squealed, and screamed. Then, when he cut twice at her cunt, she sobbed. 

The highwayman was panting hard now from the exertion and, he now realised, from a painfully strong arousal too. He threw down the whip. "Apologise!" His voice shook with emotion, part of it the little that remained of his fading anger, but much more his guilt at what he now realized he had done as he looked on her poor striped and marked flesh. 

In a very small voice Celeste responded. "I am sorry Master." Then she bit her lip. Why? Why had she used that word? This was no game they had just played. "I am sorry Terence."

He untied her, and as she straightened she saw the boy dart back into the stable. She flushed, then despite her pain managed an inward smile. He was perhaps thirteen or fourteen, old enough to be aroused by what he had just witnessed, certainly. 

She thought back to her unbidden use of that word, 'Master'. Yes, she had felt completely controlled, completely helpless, fearful to a degree she had never felt before. And it had thrilled her to the core, even in the midst of bitter pain. The thoughts completely erased her anger at him.

Terence helped her stand, but she fell suddenly to her knees before him. He bent to help her up but she shook her head. "No, I am not in difficulty. But ... I need to kneel to you. You Mastered me. I have never before felt quite what I felt when you punished me then. Perhaps I never will again. But ..." she swallowed and looked up at him, her lashes damp. "... at least for now, I am your slave. Use me and abuse me as you will Terence. Be my Master. Please." 

She was so beautiful, kneeling there before him in submission! Now at last he began to understand. He was proud to be addressed as her Master. How could it feel good to call another his slave? Yet ... he would do it. And he knew he would enjoy inflicting the pain/pleasure that she craved. His reward would lie in her response.

"Come with me then, I need some service girl." He turned on his heel and headed back to their room, leaving her to gather up her skirts, gingerly pull down her shirt, and hasten painfully after him.



Highwaymen Ch. 14



As she scurried after him, Celeste's mind was in turmoil. What had prompted her to offer herself to him so unconditionally? Yet ... it had come to her naturally, driven by the power of his action and her reaction to it. Yes, she had meant it, she would be his slave. She wanted him to use her in whatever manner he saw fit. Although in the back of her mind she was aware that this feeling would not last, right now it was where she had arrived. She was his, and it felt right to be possessed.

She followed him into the room, where he slammed the door shut behind her, and barked. "Be naked! Now!"

She shrugged off her dishevelled clothes and stood there, half turned away from him, stock still, awaiting his command.

Terence surveyed the results of the whipping. Her flesh was scored with deep red welts and bumps, darkening in the most abused places already. Yet he brushed aside the pang of guilt which flitted across his mind, and focused on what he would do now. He had planned to use and abuse her, and now he understood that such use would meet her desire. It seemed that every punishment he dreamed up for this strange and lovely creature, she would accept and probably enjoy in her way. Was there no way in which he could punish her? Perhaps ... if he were to banish her or deny her? Banishing her from him was unthinkable. And denying? Perhaps, when he grew more experienced in the art of Mastery, then maybe he could master himself sufficiently to keep her in heat for a few days, tease her and make her whine and plead for his attentions. But for now, he could not deny her for more than a few minutes. He needed to use the girl!

"Turn for me slowly, hands clasped behind your neck!"

Celeste kept her expression neutral, and turned slowly for him, letting him see his handiwork. Then as she turned to face him, there was the contrast of her untouched flesh from chin to feet. She felt a deep thrill course through her as she displayed for him. 

"Stop." 

She looked up at his face, saw the set of his chin, the steely determination of his gaze, yet she could also read his desire there. 

"You're beautiful. And you are mine." He smiled almost grimly. "My own slave."

"Yes, Master." She spoke it easily, as if she had been saying it all her life. So strange, a part of her thought. She had never imagined surrendering so completely, it ran totally counter to her normally confident, arrogant independence. Yet it had touched a deepest need of which she had been barely conscious until now. Yes, she had played games of submission before, but they had never been serious. She had thought of them as fantasies unrelated to her true self.

"Spread your legs a little wider!" Terence was surprised. Somehow he knew precisely what he wished to do with his possession. He knew he would make her display, then take her brutally. And he knew that not only would he enjoy that, but she would too. He watched her spread her legs apart, looking at her patch of dark red-brown hair and the heavenly pout it partially concealed.

"Open yourself for my regard!"

Her eyes on his still, submissive, awed, she reached down and spread her outer lips wide apart, thrusting her groin outwards to give him better view. His expression of desire and ownership thrilled her to the core. She was astonished at the sudden change in him, the authority of his command and the power which he seemed now to wield naturally.

"Dear God!" she heard the man whisper. Then just a touch louder, "And the inner lips too, part those petals for me. I want to see right into my flower." She obeyed, pulling herself painfully wide in her wish to please him. And his sigh was her reward.

"Finger yourself. Take yourself to the edge. But ... you may not come." He smiled almost cruelly, and her loins shifted and flowed. She gasped, and slipped two fingers inwards. Slitting her eyes, she rubbed herself towards climax. As her breath came quicker he barked. "You WILL not come." She heard the command and closed her eyes completely, continuing her play. Her fingers stroked, finding the g-spot, bringing herself to the very brink. Then she forced herself to stop, gasping her need, trembling with the effort of holding herself back. She could have sneaked an orgasm perhaps. Possibly she could have hidden it from him, though the strength of her passion made her doubt she would have succeeded. But she did not wish even to try, at this moment she needed to demonstrate complete obedience to his will.

Terence raised his eyebrows as he met her opening eyes. "And now slave. I will have my slut on her knees there on the bed." He watched her crawl on to the bed, her rump displayed for him like an animal's invitation to its mate. Then he added "Head and shoulders down!" Celeste shuddered with a delicious embarrassment as she obeyed, visualising how her ass was thrust up to him. 

As he looked at her there he felt a wild elation which frightened him a little, but the thrill was overpowering. He rapidly stripped off his own breeches and moved up behind her proffered ass. He slapped her afflicted buttocks hard, eliciting a muffled groan as she wriggled provocatively. The indeterminate mix of pain and pleasure in the sound pleased him, and he slapped her several more times. Then he grasped hands-full of her flesh and squeezed meanly, hearing her groans become almost a growl. That tipped him into his final place of need. His fingers pushed into her and gathered the thick wet fluid, then withdrew, and started spreading it on her tight little asshole. He pushed his fingers, and she wriggled and pushed her rump at them hungrily. Then she bore down strongly and they slid in, three fingers, burning her with the first stretch. She groaned, but immediately began moving around them, and he pushed them further.

"Open me!" she begged. "Please ... please." 

As he pulled her open wide and saw the red-pink invitation inside, he couldn't help but gasp "My whore." He pushed his stiff and slick-wet cock into the tight embrace of her asshole as he slipped his fingers out. Oh fuck! What a wonderful tight squeeze. He gasped as he slid deeper in, and beneath him Celeste gasped too. It always felt bigger when a man's cock slid here, but Gods! How he filled her, how possessed she felt!

He started to ride her, fast and furious, gasping his need, slapping her thighs, bumping and grinding against her sore rump. She was unaware of the stinging welts now, all her attention on the place where he ploughed her. She reached back, thrust two fingers into herself, and stroked, feeling his cock rub across her fingertips through the thin curtain of her flesh. Then he was coming in her, she could feel the jerking in her ass, in her cunt, against her fingers. Oh God! She sobbed as she felt him spending there, and then she was coming too, washing her thighs. She gasped and collapsed beneath him, pulling away from his sex, feeling a sudden empty loss at its withdrawal.

Terence held himself from falling onto her afflicted back, stroking her shoulders where they had escaped the whipping. "My heavenly whore!" he rumbled in a tone of wonder. He stroked the soft skin of her shoulders and back, murmuring reassurances as she still trembled in the aftershock of her deep climax. 

Celeste lay recovering for a few minutes, then, as her trembling orgasm stilled, she replied dreamily, "Thank you Master!"



Highwaymen Ch. 15



Despite, or perhaps because of her hurts, Celeste slept a deep revitalising sleep that night. She awoke very early the next morning, to feel Terence lying by her side. She turned to look at him in the faint light of pre-dawn, resting her chin on a hand. How changed he had been the previous day! She shuddered in pleasure, felt her cunt suddenly wet as she quickened with excitement, replaying both her beating and the subsequent buggering in delicious detail. 

Her first thought after that was to consider how she must take back control. But ... she wanted him commanding her again too. She wrestled with those two conflicting desires for a while, her natural independence arguing that she must be the dominant, as she had contrived to be for most of their relationship thus far. But body and spirit both dictated that she must experience complete submission to his will again. Dammit, she thought, who have I become? She rolled very carefully onto her aching back, her fertile mind imagining a slave girl's life with this man, while her hand gently toyed in her pubic hair. Finally she drifted back to sleep.

As the sun fell across the window soon after dawn, Terence stirred. He had slept long and deeply, and was feeling much refreshed. He stretched deliciously until a slight twinge reminded him of the wound still healing on his arm, then he took slow deep breaths. What had happened to him yesterday? 

He thought back with considerable guilt to the thrashing he had given Celeste, but as he called to mind the rapid build-up of red welts across her white flesh he was immediately aroused. There was something in that image that fascinated him. He also thought back to how her ass had looked when he had spanked her in the past. How the pretty cheeks had gradually reddened under his hand. How she had wriggled. How wet she had become! 

And then he replayed her falling to her knees and calling him her Master. He smiled a self-satisfied grin, which then broadened as he visualised his own expression right now. He must be grinning like the cat that got the cream! He would indeed be her Master. That power had been intoxicating, yet ... as he considered the matter, he realised that it carried with it a duty too. If he were to control her utterly then he must equally take all responsibility and care for how he used her.

He turned his head to look at the curve of the sleeping girl's neck, shoulder and arm above the white bedcover. Desire stirred. Such a pretty young thing to possess! He was surprised how the thought of utterly possessing her was growing on him. He reached to stroke the nape of her neck, then pulled down the cover slowly, revealing her flank, her whip-marked back, and then her abused ass. Celeste stirred, murmuring something indecipherable, and then stretched. Her eyes flew open and she exclaimed in pain as the stretching of her beaten back sent a hundred sharp reminders of the beating through her. She gingerly rolled onto her stomach, then looked sideways and up at her companion. The expression she caught there fleetingly, before he could adjust it, surprised her considerably. There was a fierce possessiveness in that look. It immediately threw her mentally back into that place she had reached yesterday when her body had told her to declare him her Master. As he changed his look into a warm smile, she returned it with one of her own. "Good morning ... Master?" 

Terence felt a warm glow course through him at that address. So, he thought, she is still feeling slavish this morning? Well ... I am certainly feeling Masterful enough. 

He sat up and slowly pulled the white cover completely away from her. Now he could see the injuries he had dealt her displayed from neck to knee. He whistled at the sight of the myriad angry red marks across her white flesh. It excited him. It looked good, it looked ... somehow right? His fingers began to trace along each mark in turn, gently. Celeste stiffened but did not shy away from the light contact. "What are you doing Terence?" She watched his brows furrow as he considered his answer for some time. "I believe I am affirming what I did to you. I am ..." his voice trailed off as he considered further. She watched in rapt attention. His eyebrows rose in exclamation at his conclusion, as he continued. "I am pleased that I hurt you."

Her whole body trembled with excitement as she heard his words. "Yes, then you are still very much my Master this morning." 

"And a slave must serve her Master. Strive to please him. Answer to his whim." His smile hardened somewhat.

She felt the movement in her belly as her cunt quivered and dampened. "What is my Master's whim?" She was not just damp but wet, and getting wetter by the moment! 

He pointed down to his cock, standing stiff and already glistening a dew-drop or pre-cum. "Suck it now!"

Celeste smiled hungrily and mumbled something of which the only word he caught was "breakfast" as she moved down and straddled his lower legs. Then her mouth pursed a small "O" and she slid her lips around the head of his cock, pulling on his foreskin. His groan of pleasure excited her further as she began to lick around the glans, slowly stimulating. His cock jumped inside her mouth. She murmured a choked "mmm" of her own pleasure at his response. 

Suddenly his hands were in her hair, fingers thrusting between long locks, then pulling her head down by the hair so that she almost gagged as his full length and girth slid into her mouth, into her throat. She was practiced, and despite the surprise she swallowed him without gagging. Then he started to push and pull her head back and forth, controlling the speed with which he fucked her mouth. First it was slow, easing her head away and back again, but then he thrust with gathering speed. She felt some annoyance that he was not letting her pleasure him with all the skill she possessed. But to more than counter that there was the thrill of being used as his fuck-toy. She let her teeth graze along the top and bottom of his shaft, hearing a satisfying reaction in his groans, and soon felt the final tightening in cock and balls which presaged his climax. Then he was jerking, pumping his hot silky cum into her throat. His fingers relaxed their grasp.

She raised her head slightly so she could suck the final drops from him, savouring the salty liquid, then she began to lick all over balls and cock, cleaning them thoroughly, emitting quiet little chirps of satisfaction as she cleaned.

As his hands dropped to his sides and he lay breathing deep contented breaths, she pulled her mouth away and moved up to lie close beside him. She pushed her face towards his, but stopped short of kissing him, somehow managing to remember that for now she was not calling the shots. He met her lips. At the taste of himself on her tongue he screwed up his nose and furrowed his brows. She laughed into his mouth in muffled merriment, then collapsed back to lie beside him once again. "That wasn't enough breakfast, it just made me hungrier." She glanced down at his diminished cock, and was amused by the quick shake of his head which that evoked. As she lay there her mind was drifting, but automatically her hand moved over her cunt and, without any real awareness of what she was doing, she began to stroke. 

"Stop that!" Terence's command cut in on her. She jerked to full awareness and pulled her hand away quickly, looking at him, meeting his steely stare levelly. 

"But I'm so aroused Terence, I need ..."

She was a little angered at the decisive shaking of his head, "No!" 

Hell, she thought, she was finding his new-found dominance exciting, but it was also frustrating and aggravating in equal measures. She had declared just these last few minutes ago that he was still her Master! She did not wish to contradict that declaration by immediate disobedience. But nor could she wait long before she came, she needed that release so very urgently. Struggling to square the circle, she resolved to bring herself off in secret as soon as she could contrive a few minutes alone. 

She nodded meekly as she moved her hand away, but already she was plotting. She could not remain his compliant slave for long!



Highwaymen Ch. 16



Later that morning Celeste was once more dressed in her male garb as Terence addressed her. "We still have funds for a week or two, perhaps we need not look to our trade for a while." 

Celeste retorted hotly "We need money for our own purposes also. Remember that I at least don't intend to remain in this profession all my life!" His relaxed, to her eyes lazy, attitude provoked her to her old independence. She would not be told how to conduct their affairs if it was so clearly ill-considered. Her mood was not helped by the frustration she was still feeling after the morning's denial of release.

They argued back and forth, but Terence had to admit their ultimate aim was to build up funds for their different purposes, and they should not use up all the proceeds of each interception. So Celeste had her way in that, and also in their choice of destination. "We must get far away from Norwich" she had argued cogently. They would head through Thetford to Cambridge next, and then eventually on to Bristol where she had some acquaintances down by the docks.

Finally Celeste contrived to slip away, claiming she was going to see to the horses, whilst Terence was settling the bill. She slipped quietly into the stable, checked that none was around, and sneaked into a corner of a stall. There she quickly brought herself off, her fingers working deftly under her skirts. But although she came, it really didn't satisfy her. As she was rearranging her skirts she caught the stable-boy peering at her from the next stall and wondered how much he had seen. It was of no concern to her, she was quite brazen enough to like the idea of a secret audience. She paused as she was passing the stall where he pretended to work, looking at his breeches to see if she could see any sign of arousal. She could see none, but nevertheless smiled wickedly as she said "I hope you're having an entertaining day, boy." She stifled a laugh as he blushed.

So they settled their bill and departed. Celeste glimpsed the young stable-lad again as they rode out and gave him the most outrageous wink, being rewarded once again with his scarlet face. Perhaps when we pass here again, she thought ... he clearly is ripe for some education in certain arts. 

On the road each of them dwelt quietly in their own thoughts for a while. Terence was pondering his new-found mastery, glancing frequently towards his slave. Unfortunately for him, in her own cogitations his slave was plotting to become distinctly un-slavish once again. She was determined to reassert some independence. It was not, she told herself, that she would renege on her surrender. After all, that surrender was wonderful in itself, she remembered, and the memories stirred her yet again. But Terence, older though he was, still had so much to learn. Surely it was her duty to teach him in between her times of surrender? Thus she arrived at a rationale which satisfied her.

The day was dull and dreary as they rode towards Cambridge. They came across one coach too suddenly to make "arrangements", and to their chagrin had to let it pass. In the forests around Thetford they made camp for the night. They were both tired and sore from the day's riding, and after eating a cold supper they huddled together for warmth, falling quickly asleep. 

The morn dawned bright and warmer. Celeste, awaking first and seeing Terence still sound asleep, decided here was a perfect opportunity. She sneaked away to fetch a length of rope. When she returned, she made a noose and slipped it over one of his wrists surreptitiously, then snuggled against him, managing to get him to roll over a little so that she could tie both wrists together, crossed in the small of his back. As she tugged the knot tighter he awoke, not immediately aware of his predicament. Celeste stood and moved to look down on him. "Did Master sleep well?" He blinked up at her, still heavy with sleep. "Uh, yes."

"MISTRESS has a little surprise in store". She kicked him lightly on the thigh, and trying to move he realised he was tied. His face immediately reddened with anger, and to her discomfort she saw that there was also a sadness and disappointment. She couldn't bear that. It was far from her intention to make him sad. But she would soon have him happy again! Her confidence in her own power to pleasure him was supreme. "What in God's name are you doing Celeste?"

She tried to explain a little. "Terence. I AM your slave. I will serve you. But ..." She faltered in her attempt to explain as he listened in intense concentration. "I cannot, not yet anyway, not for a long time, perhaps not ever ... I cannot be only your slave. I also have to command and be obeyed. I know you felt that need these last two days, your need to be Master. Can you not understand my need?"

He shook his head. No, he could not understand her. 

She almost relented then, but she knew if she submitted to him now, devoted her whole life to him as slave and only slave, she would always feel a part of her deprived. And although she would be a happy slave there would be a void, a need unfulfilled. Their relationship must not have such imperfections, it must be complete. She loved him with all her heart, now finally she could acknowledge to herself that she would always love him. And it was necessary that they be complete. It was no longer arrogance that drove her, but a certainty that their strange love must find its wholeness in all ways. How could she tell him this? She tried to explain it, stumbling over her words, sometimes tears in her eyes when he could not comprehend what she was saying. At least he could see that she loved him in earnest.

Terence, trying to grasp what she meant, began to gain some measure of understanding of her feelings. But he had not had her long experience of a life of such strange drives, and switches, and complex interactions. He took comfort from the final, evident depth of her love, but he was still superficially angry with what she was doing. He ground out "So what is it you intend to do with me Celeste?"

"MISTRESS!" she flung back. "I intend to be your Mistress ... for a little while. And if ... if at the end you do not willingly submit to sometimes serve me, I promise I will be your slave uninterrupted forever, or for as long as you want me!" Now she felt cold fear. She had to succeed in this one opportunity to show him that he could serve her as happily as she could serve him. 

She knelt down and pulled his face to hers, kissing him fiercely, and to her relief his mouth opened in response. She pushed in her tongue before he could have her mouth, stridently taking possession. He fought her tongue but she would not yield until she pulled away, leaving them both panting from the fury of the kiss. She smiled into his eyes. "Terence love. You can be my slave." Damn, it was too soon, why had she said that now! 

Celeste rolled him over onto his back and dragged his breeches off, began kissing his legs, his thighs, toying around but not touching cock or balls until he was straining his erection. "That's not what Mistress wants yet, not what slave needs yet." she cooed at his ear, rolling him now onto his belly, which he was helpless to prevent. Pushing down inside her breeches she moistened her fingers in her dripping cunt and pushed at his asshole. He tightened and grunted out a protest "Get off me woman. Not that!" But her forefinger slid slowly, inexorably into him until her knuckles pushed up against his ass. She crooked the finger and rotated it gently left and right, cooing behind his back "Terence, be my good slave. Mistress loves you." Her tone, not her words, made it easier for him to accept her ministrations, despite his embarrassment. Her left hand dipped to gather more lubrication from herself and spread it into him, so that she could slide two fingers in, then three. She worked patiently, gently, opening him up and pleasuring, feeling then for the spot she knew would tip him over, make him hers. There! She had it, felt him push back against the probing finger, heard his groans of pure pleasure now.

Terence finally gave himself up to the pleasure of it. He had no room left for disappointment, for anger, for embarrassment. Pleasure was engulfing him. He rode back wantonly against her fingers.

Celeste moved her left hand between his thighs, caressing his balls as she continued to thrust her fingers into him. She felt the final tightening of cock and balls, then grasped the base of his shaft and pulled back sharply. His cock pulsed in her hand as he came, groaning loud pleasure. "Good boy, slave. Mistress is so happy."

She lapped and sucked his cum from her fingers, then knelt to clean his cock thoroughly with tongue and lips. Then she untied his wrists and rubbed the circulation back as he lay there. Pulling off her breeches she lay against him, holding tight. After a while he turned half over to face her, his expression dreamy, almost awed.

Now this was the acid test! Could he admit he had surrendered for at least this occasion? She asked him, quietly, "Terence, will you say 'Thank you Mistress'?" 

He answered "Thank you ..." then added a mumbled "Mistress". After all, he thought, it's just a word, and she wants to hear it. Yet at the back of his mind he was aware it meant more than that to him as well as her.

Her smile, so incredibly radiant, rewarded him. She realised and accepted that she could not remain Mistress long. He would feel the need to reassert his Mastery in very short shrift. But it was done. Their relationship was set. She to serve him ... but sometimes, just sometimes, he would serve her in his turn. Still tasting him, she stroked his shoulder and chest idly. Her voice vibrated with emotion as she replied with a quiet "Thank you slave!"