The Highwayman

The wheels of the heavy carriage began to turn slowly through the rutted mud that led from the cosy warmth of the moorland inn to the open road. The first early light of dawn was shielded by thick dark clouds. The coach trundled on, into the gloom, the glow of the carriage lamp illuminating tufts and hillocks. Gradually the coach gathered speed as the road cut through the purple heather swathe of moorland, the black horses snorting and prancing in the cold morning air.

From his elevated seat high up on the carriage, the driver flicked his whip, urging the horses on, for there was rain in the air and a harsh wind blew from the west. Within the dark interior of the carriage, the four passengers sat in a haze of thick smoke emanating from the wooden pipe of Mr Pitts.

Mr Pitts puffed on his pipe, staring owlishly at his fellow travellers. The two men seated opposite were a portly whiskered gentleman whose fat rump took up well over half of the seat, and next to him sat a thin weasel-faced man. Seated next to Mr Pitts, and pressed close into the corner against the back wall of the carriage was a young woman in a grey cloak. She said nothing, preferring instead to regard her fellow travellers with icy disdain.

As the carriage wheels bounced and jolted on the dirt road, the occupants were flung from side to side.

"Deuced uncomfortable journey," said the portly gentleman. His huge whiskers twitched as he spoke, clearly revealing the remains of his breakfast stuck in the tufts at either side of his handlebar moustache.

"Aye," murmured his wraith-like companion with the weasel face. He took a swig from his hip flask, being careful not to spill a drop of the precious amber nectar. "Care for a nip, madam?"

"No," she said, tossing her head so that her amber curls glistened in the dim light.

"Hurummpf - suit yourself," he replied, thinking what a snooty piece she was and no mistake. He was about to make a surly remark when a loud pistol shot from somewhere close by made the carriage horses rear up in panic, causing the coach to lurch violently. "What the devil ...?"

The road had wound down an abrupt hillside and lost itself in the shadow of a tangled grove of trees, where in the looming shadows, the waiting highwayman grinned in delight as the clatter of the approaching horses hooves pounded the dirt road. Urging his own mount forward, he cocked his pistol and fired a single shot, missing the coach driver's scull by a fraction of an inch.

Within seconds he had knocked the driver senseless, stopped the horses in their tracks, and flung open the carriage door.

"Everybody out!" he roared, and brandished his pistol ominously.

"Mercy! Mercy!" cried the weasel-faced man. "I have money - plenty of it. You can have it all."

"Oh I intend to," said the highwayman. He reached out and grabbed the little man and flung him face down on the grass. "And you too Sir - move that fat rump and give me your valuables."

"This is preposterous, quite preposterous," said the portly gentleman as he struggled from the carriage. "This is outrageous - aaaaargh!" he squealed as a thick leather belt slashed into his thigh.

"Do exactly as you are told," said the highwayman. His eyes glinted dangerously from the slits in the mask covering the upper part of his face. "If you don't - you're dead meat. Get down next to your friend here. You too, Sir," he said to the white frightened face of Mr Pitts, "And put that infernal pipe out. I can't stand the smell of tobacco."

The highwayman deftly tied the three men's hands and feet, and filled his own pockets with their money and other valuables. "There you are, gentlemen - trussed up like three chickens ready for the pot. Hah!" His glance returned to the carriage. "My my - what have we here? This demands a closer look methinks."

"Get your hands off me, you brute!" shrieked the lady in the grey cloak.

"Oh I do so like a woman with spirit." He reached in and grabbed her wrist, and pulled her out of the carriage, spitting and snarling like a wild cat.

"It seems you have a fine temper, madam - and a fine necklace too. I'll have that." He snatched it from her neck.

"How dare you! Give it back at once!" She raked his face and kicked his shins.

"Damnable woman! I shall teach you a few lessons in manners. And in the process, we shall give these three fine fellows a treat. Have you ever seen a naked wench, gentlemen?"

The three men stared and shook their heads, and their eyes widened as the highwayman deftly removed the woman's cloak and ripped her gown from neck to hem, leaving her standing in her chemise and a pair of silk drawers.

"Ohhhhhh!" gasped the woman. "You won't get away with this!"

"We'll see about that," grinned the highwayman, as he scooped her firm plump breasts out over the top of her chemise. Her pink nipples stuck out like little acorns. He pinched them, rolling them between his thumb and forefinger.

"How dare you, you pig!"

"Feast your eyes, gentlemen. Shall we see what treasures lay hidden beneath these delectable drawers?"

The portly man with the whiskers turned very red in the face, and his eyes bulged as the highwayman tugged down the woman's silk drawers, her narrow waist giving way to the promising swell of her hips and perfectly formed thighs. Her bottom was revealed in all its glory, being wonderfully sculpted and full-cheeked, with pale alabaster skin.

"Mmmm - look gentleman - firm and full and sweetly rounded. Have you ever seen a more delectable bottom? Or one so worthy of a damn good spanking?"

When the highwayman slapped the bare flesh with the palm of his hand, the bottom cheeks wobbled so enticingly that the portly gentleman thought he would surely faint with excitement. His two trussed companions were equally aroused by the delicious spectacle, and their mouths gaped in admiration.

The woman meanwhile began to shriek and howl and curse at the indignity of being stripped almost naked in front of strangers. By now, wearing only a pair of white hose, gartered above the knee, and a pair of kid boots, her appearance was even more alluring than if she were totally nude. But what a fuss the woman was making. The highwayman, being of an enterprising nature, made a gag with her drawers. It proved immediately effective, for she could no longer mouth her vehement threats to have him castrated and fed to the pigs.

The roguish highwayman then pulled a piece of luggage from the coach - a large leather trunk - and seated himself upon it. Then over his lap went the woman, her bare bottom nicely elevated, and pointing in the direction of the three trussed men. They were quite overcome as the woman kicked and splayed her legs lewdly, revealing her sex decorated with a triangle of light brown hair.

Unheeding of her protests, the highwayman began to spank the woman's bottom. His arm rose and fell, hard and fast, and red handprints began to burn on her cheeks. He peppered her bottom with hard spanks, making her squirm deliciously, and make muffled yells into her gag. A few sharp slaps to her thighs made her wriggle even more, and her legs kicked wildly, much to the highwayman's amusement.

"Colouring up nicely, isn't she gentleman?" The highwayman admired the blotchy pink bottom before him. "But needs to be a more pleasing shade of red I think." With that, he produced a thick leather strap from the folds of his cloak, and dangled it in front of the woman's eyes. "See here, my beauty - you are about to feel the kiss of leather on that fine fat arse of yours."

The woman yelped through her gag and wriggled her bottom in protest, which merely served to encourage her tormentor, who proceeded to strap her with practised ease and a great deal of enthusiasm. The strap snaked through the air and bit into her bottom, delivering a sizzling blow across the centre of her buttocks. Each blow fell hard and fast, thwapping down on the woman's defenceless rear end, which was now decorated with blazing red welts.

A series of agonized yowls emanated from behind the gag as the throbbing ache in the woman's bottom intensified to an almost unbearable agony as the strap bit deep, colouring her bottom rosy red.

"Ah - excellent result," said the highwayman in admiration. He put down the strap and ran his hands over the puffy punished flesh. It felt very hot to his touch. "Wouldn't you agree, gentleman?"

The weasel faced man gawped and nodded his head uncontrollably and mumbled incoherently.

"Oh yes. Yes indeed," said the portly gentleman. Beads of perspiration glistened on his brow. "A most pleasing colour if I may say so."

"I heartily agree," volunteered Mr Pitts.

"Thank you gentleman. So glad you approve," said the highwayman as he got to his feet and delivered a mock bow. "And now I must take my leave. The mail coach is due in twenty minutes and you fine fellows will be untied then. Good day, gentleman. It was a pleasure doing business with you."

With a rakish smile, he leaped up onto his horse, and hauled the red bottomed woman up in front of him. She winced as her bare bottom came into contact with the hard leather saddle.  Draping his cloak over her modesty, he flicked the reins lightly, and the horse cantered away, leaving the three trussed men staring wide-eyed as the horse and riders disappeared into the distance.

Later that evening, Mr Pitts called at the opulent home of Lord and Lady Overton.
"My dear Mr Pitts," said Lady Overton, greeting him with a kiss on the cheek. "That was such fun! I had a wonderful time. When is our next adventure?"

Mr Pitts consulted his notebook. "Well, your Ladyship, I was thinking about the mail coach next Friday. There will be more passengers of course," he cast an enquiring look at Lord Overton.

"I can handle them. If my lovely wife wants more of an audience for her decadent pleasures, then she shall have it."

"Excellent!" Lady Overton clapped her hands. "I think I shall wear the long red wig and the green gown. Oh - I can hardly wait!"

Lord Overton gave his wife an indulgent smile. "Patience, my love. Your bottom needs time to recover for the next treat in store. I have ordered a new riding crop for precisely that purpose."

"Oh - I absolutely adore the crop! You darling - I do so enjoy our little games."

"So do I, my dear," grinned her husband.

Mr Pitts puffed on his pipe and nodded contentedly. For each little adventure he arranged he received a purse full of silver. He was a very rich man, and he loved his work just as much as her ladyship loved her spankings.

Author - Lucy Appleby.

Don't you love Lucy's stories.  A little taster from her new ebook The Housekeeper.  I'll be adding it to my list.

Have a fun weekend.

Ronnie
xx