The Highwayman

Lady Pamela Southman, eighteen and still unwed. By choice, as she did not lack for suitors. She wouldn't describe herself as wilful, but she was accustomed to getting her own way. This last explained why she was out riding, unaccompanied. Atop Billy, her black stallion, she was confident she could outride anyone.

Perhaps she would have, if she'd actually been mounted when he appeared. Unfortunately, she dismounted to sit for a while, and when she turned on hearing a noise he was sitting there, riding a stallion every bit as fine as Billy. Black seemed to be the colour of his choice, as his clothes and his horse were that deep colour.

This didn't dismay Lady Pamela as much as the fact that his mask and gun were also black.

"I know," he said. "I look a little flamboyant and theatrical like this, and to compound the offence they call me Mr. Black. However, the gun works, so it might be advisable for you not to issue any insults but to just continue sitting there while you fish out your valuables and lay them out."

Pamela gave him a cold look. Do you realise who I am," she asked, making no move to start fishing out any valuables.

"Let me see," came the considered reply. "I'm on the outskirts of the Southman estate. I come across a great Lady riding an excellent black stallion. Lady Pamela Southman is known to ride in this area on an excellent black stallion. I would have to take a wild guess and say you're probably her. You, milady, can call me Blackie. Your valuables, please."

Pamela continued to try to stare him down but realised, to her irritation, that he was completely unaffected by who she was.

"You're out of luck," she finally told Mr. Black. "I brought no valuables with me. Why would I, when I'm just riding around the estate. Billy is no use to you, as he is too well known. Try to steal him and you'd be found very quickly. And hung," she added with a smile.

"I'll concede that I'm better off without your Billy, but Pegasus here is all the horse I need anyway. As to no valuables, I'd say those pearls you're wearing around your pretty little neck are worth a nice sum, and pearls are always sellable. So why don't you stop stalling and hand them over."

Pamela had forgotten about the pearls. Her hand now snapped defensively to her throat in protest.

"No," she cried urgently. "You can't. They were the last present I had from my Mother. You can't have them."

"Milady, all I have to do is hit you on the head with my little gun and then take the pearls off you while you sleep," Mr. Black pointed out. "Now be a good girl and take them off."

Pamela was on her feet now, backing slowly away.

"I won't," she said, temper and desperation evident in her voice. "My mother gave them to me. You're not having them."

Mr. Black considered the situation. Damned unreasonable woman. He had the gun, she should do as she's told. He couldn't really shoot her or pistol whip her. The subsequent furore would probably mean he'd have to emigrate. Fast. So if he couldn't get the pearls.....

"I'll do you a deal," he said. "I'll explain why you should give me the pearls, and if you think my arguments are compelling enough you can just undo the pearls and give them to me and I'll leave. I'll leave my gun in my saddlebag and I'll promise not to try to touch the pearls while I make my argument. Deal?"

Pamela hesitated as he dismounted and dropped his gun into his saddle bag. Running was useless as he'd catch her easily enough, and he was between her and Billy. It wasn't as though she had much choice.

"Deal," she said reluctantly.

"Then why don't we move over here out of the hot sun?" Mr. Black suggested. He shepherded Pamela under the trees to the side of the clearing.

"I see someone had thoughtfully left a nice roll of hay here," Mr. Black observed. "Just the thing for you to lean on while I explain why I should have the pearls."

Pamela looked at the roll of hay, wondering why she would want to lean on it, then gave a gasp as she was suddenly propelled to lean across it face down. She struggled to stand upright again, only to find Mr. Black holding her firmly in place.

"Now remember," he said, "just undo the pearls when you're ready."

Blackie reached down and started drawing her riding dress up, little by little.

"What does he think he's doing?" fumed Pamela, feeling the dress moving slowly up, exposing her legs. She tried again to stand up, but was held relentlessly in position.

Feeling the dress creeping higher and higher, Pamela suddenly realised that her bottom would soon be on display. She froze, mortified that he would do this to her. She could feel her face burning as she realised he meant to deliberately embarrass her by exposing her body.

Although the time seemed to crawl for Pamela as her dress was slowly lifted, it didn't really take long before it was tucked neatly around her waist, leaving her half naked.

Pamela didn't move. What was he going to do now? Beat her until she submitted? She lay there, quivering with a slight trepidation, but determined to keep her pearls.

Blackie admired the female form now exposed before him. He wondered how far he'd have to go before she conceded and gave him the pearls. It would be fun finding out. His hand came down and caressed Pamela's bottom.

Pamela jumped in shock. A smack she'd expected, might even have welcomed as it gave her something to fight, but a caress? She felt Blackie's hand continue to move upon her bottom, gently rubbing it.

Blackie grinned to himself at her initial jump and subsequent freezing. His hand continued to wander around her bottom for a while, and then dipped down and slipped between her thighs, touching forbidden places.

This time Pamela really jumped, giving a sharp squeal of outrage and trying to stand. Unable to escape his imprisoning hand she ordered him to stop touching her.

"Of course," came the reply. "Just hand over the pearls and I'm out of here."

Pamela was adamant on that score. She would not lose her mother's pearls to this oaf. Let him touch her. See if she cared.

The touching continued, getting more and more personal, playing havoc with her senses, making her want to scream and shout at him. Just how much more of this could he do?

Blackie stepped up the pressure, parting Pamela's lips and inserting his fingers into her slit, laughing aloud at her scream of fury. He found her warm and wet inside, making it easy for him to slide his fingers around inside her. What would happen he wondered, if he touched her there.

Pamela gave a shriek of fright as Blackie's fingers touched something within her that made her almost convulse with shock. Her attitude was not improved by hearing him laugh and then touching her there again.

"Pearls?" came the mocking request, to be answered with a firm "Go to hell!"

Blackie sighed. It looked like he was going to have to miss out on the pearls, because in a few minutes it wouldn't matter if she surrendered. It would be too late for him to stop.

"Last choice," Pamela heard, but she ignored it. After what he'd been doing, what else could he do?

Feeling what Pamela just knew was that monster's cock pressing against her tender flesh, she suddenly realised just what else he could do. Oddly enough, despite the preliminaries and the molestation of her body, the thought of what it was all leading to never crossed her mind.

Pamela gave a cry of fury and tried to twist away from Blackie, but was too late. Seconds that might have been years too late as Blackie effortlessly drove himself deep into her.

Pamela shuddered as all those little sensations that had been building within her coalesced into a single burning need that drove her to meet Blackie as he took her. Too late, she realised. She couldn't take the pearls off now if she wanted to. All she could do was try to hang on while she was being thoroughly ravished, glorying in the domination.

Blackie hammered relentlessly home. If she wanted the pearls that badly, she could keep them, but right now he wanted her far more than he wanted the pearls.

Taking his time, Blackie ravished the helpless body under him, feeling it responding to his mastery and happily yielding to him. He may not have the pearls but he'd have an experience to remember and so would Pamela. Every time she put the pearls on in future she'd remember him taking her while she leant helplessly over a bale of hay, subject to his wishes.

Feeling his own climax coming Blackie considered. Should he hold until Pamela came, or just help her along a little? Realising the futility of trying to hold back his own climax, Blackie reached round to where he was joined to Pamela. Sliding a finger into her he flicked her clitoris, and a second time.

The extra sensation was all that was required to send Pamela over the edge and she screamed as her orgasm took control of her. And screamed again, in fury this time, as she realised that Blackie was also coming and flooding her with his seed. If he got her pregnant, she'd kill him.

Blackie eventually stepped back from his reluctant playmate.

"It seems that I'm not persuasive enough and you get to keep your pearls," he mourned. "Before I leave, take of your dress."

"What? Why?" demanded an infuriated Lady Pamela.

"Because if I take it off, I'd probably tear it and then you'd have a lot of explaining to do."

Baffled, Lady Pamela took off the dress and stood there, nude but proud.

Mr. Black smiled. "I really wanted to see what you looked like wearing just the pearls," he taunted her. "Enjoy them."

In moments he was on his horse, leaving a furious Pamela trying to dress herself and swearing in a way most unfitting for a Lady of the Realm.