Ravished by the Highwaywoman

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"Well, what's a pretty girl like you doing out so late at night? And without a chaperone?"

Louisa heard the sound of a pistol being cocked, and she managed to bring her horse to a halt in front of the shadowy figure of the highway robber on top of his horse. "Where did you come from?" she said, her heart racing in her chest. One moment, the path ahead had been empty, if dark in the middle of the night, and now it was blocked by the large horse and its rider.

"I could ask you the same question."

"Where I'm from is none of your business," she insisted. It didn't matter where she was from, since she wouldn't be going back any time soon. Her parents never let her have any fun. She wasn't even allowed to go to local balls, not until her two older sisters were married. She was nineteen, if she didn't attend balls soon, she would end up a spinster like them. Her aunt and uncle had offered to let Louisa spend the summer in London along with her two sisters, but her parents had insisted that Louisa should stay at home.

Well, she could find her way to London by herself just fine, if this robber would just get out of the way.

The robber moved his horse closer, and the pistol stayed raised. "You're a local girl, aren't you?" the man said. "I've seen you around before... you were usually in a carriage, of course. You're one of the Linfield girls."

Louisa gasped. "How did you – no, I'm not!" But how could the robber have recognised her?

"You're the youngest."

The man's tone was low and certain. It sent a shiver down Louisa's spine. "Have you been spying on my family?" she asked, scandalised, and a little intrigued. The idea that some highwayman had been watching her and her family... she wanted to know more.

"I make it my business to be aware of the local gentry," the highwayman explained. He was still pointing the pistol at her. "You make such wonderful victims. Hand over your valuables."

"Oh, I couldn't possibly, I need those," Louisa said. "I'm going to London, to go to a ball and find a husband. I can't do that without my jewellery, can I?"

The highwayman chuckled. "Oh, you highborn girls are all the same, aren't you? Balls and husbands, that's all you can think about."

"What else is there for me to think about?" Louisa snapped. All her life she'd been told that it was important that she marry well.

The highwayman was quiet for a long moment. "I do believe I'm starting to like you, Miss Linfield."

"I'm not Miss Linfield," she said automatically. "I'm – my name is none of your business."

"Miss Linfield," the highwayman continued, "please, get off your horse."

"What, so you can steal it?"

"So that I may search your saddlebags for valuables that won't help you attract a husband."

Louisa considered it. She had brought money along with the jewellery, but still. "I'd rather stay on my horse, if it's all the same to you."

The highwayman raised his pistol, and fired off a shot. Louisa winced, and had to calm down her panicking horse. "That was a warning shot," the highwayman said. "Get off the horse."

She got off the horse.

*

"You can't take all my money," she complained, as the highwayman rifled through her saddlebag. "And don't throw that gown on the ground! It's the finest gown I own."

"Silence, Miss Linfield."

"I shall have to get it cleaned! I can't attend a ball in a muddy gown!"

Quick as lightning, the highwayman's gloved hand was around her throat, and Louisa was pushed up against her horse. The highwayman, the lower half of his face covered by a neckerchief, glared down at her, his dark eyes glinting in the moonlight. "I said, silence, Miss Linfield."

Louisa gasped for air when the highwayman released her, and she stumbled forward. She felt flush all over, and glad she was finally able to breathe again. She could still feel the highwayman's hand around her throat. "You almost killed me!"

The highwayman let out a derisive snort. "I barely even choked you."

"You almost killed me, you brute!" She slapped his arm. "You're not getting away with this."

The highwayman grabbed her by the wrist. "Oh, but I will, Miss Linfield."

She tried to pull her hand free, but he was too strong for her. "Let me go. You wanted my valuables."

"I wanted you to be silent as I did, Miss Linfield. You seem to have great trouble listening and obeying. I think you should do with some discipline," the highwayman told her.

Her mouth fell open. "What? You're not – you're not my governess!"

"Indeed, for I would've spanked you a lot more than she did, Miss Linfield."

There was no reason why those words should make her feel flustered. "I – I – You don't know how often she spanked me!"

"It was evidently not enough. You're coming with me, Miss Linfield."

She gaped at him. "What? No! You can't – you can't kidnap me, you brute!" She struggled to get out of his grip, but the highwayman grabbed her by the throat again, this time holding her tighter until she felt lightheaded. Her vision turned white, and her limbs grew weak, and when the highwayman released her, she almost collapsed.

As she gasped for air, she felt him tie her wrists together with a coarse rope, and then a filthy neckerchief was tied around her face, the knot stuffed into her mouth. By the time he had finished, her mind had cleared and she tried to protest.

The highwayman slapped her face, his gloved hand smacking against her cheek.

Her eyes widened in shock. No one had ever dared to slap her like that, and she glared up at the highwayman.

"I will do with you as I please, Miss Linfield," the highwayman told her, his dark eyes fixed on hers. "I may be nicer if you cooperate." His gloved fingers trailed down the cheek he had just slapped.

Never, she tried to say, but all that came out were annoyed grunts.

He slapped her again, then grabbed her by the throat until she was feeling lightheaded.

Feeling took weak to struggle, she let him haul her on top of his horse while he was already in the saddle, her legs dangling down on end, her arms and head down the other. He set off in a slow walk, one hand on her lower back, keeping her in place. She was surprised to find her own horse following along after him.

There was no point in struggling, she realised. She'd fall off the horse, and she could easily break an ankle, or a wrist, or her neck. No, better to wait until she was back in the highwayman's lair. Where would a man like this hide?

*

The answer, in the end, turned out to be a remote cottage that smelled like sheep. It was empty, except for a table, a mattress and some blankets in the corner. The highwayman pushed her forward, and she fell to her knees on the mattress.

He didn't remove the gag, but instead took a knife from his belt. It glinted in the moonlight that came in through the two open windows.

"Now, as I said, Miss Linfield, I will do with you as I please," the highwayman said, holding the knife to her face. "And I will be nicer if you cooperate. So, I'm giving you a choice. I will cut the rope, and you will remove your clothes like a good girl, or I will do it for you."

She stared at him, and shook her head. She would never remove her clothing for any man who wasn't her husband.

"I thought you might say that," the highway man said. He knelt down by her feet, and held his knife against the hem of her dress. He looked up at her, and began to cut through the fabric.

She shivered as the cold metal touched her bare skin, and she turned her head away as the knife moved higher. Her heart raced as she felt a gloved hand on her thigh, pushing her legs out of the way.

More and more fabric fell around her, exposing her body to the chilly night air. The highwayman was cutting closer and closer to her cunt, and she shuddered to think of what he would do once that was bared to him.

Once he had cut away the lower part of the dress, the highwayman sat back to enjoy the fruits of his labour. Both his gloved hands ran up and down her bare thighs, pushing her legs wider so he could kneel between them. "Having second thoughts, Miss Linfield?"

She looked away, her cheeks burning. His hands slid further and further up, until she felt his fingers brush her pubic hair. She protested at that, trying to close her legs.

"Hush, Miss Linfield," the highwayman told her. "You might enjoy it."

She protesting through the gag as his gloved fingers rubbed her cunt. It felt strange, and wrong. He shouldn't be touching her like this.

He brought the glove to his face. "You seem to be getting wet, Miss Linfield."

She shook her head. She knew what that meant, what her getting wet was supposed to be for.

"Oh, calm down, I won't fuck you, Miss Linfield. I will leave that to your future husband." The highwayman leaned forward, using one hand to pull the gag out of her mouth. "It's not actually all that enjoyable."

Before she could open her mouth to scream, to protest, to ask him why he didn't think fucking was enjoyable, the highwayman had pulled down his own neckerchief and kissed her hard. His lips were firm against hers.

He leaned back, and flashed her a grin.

Louisa stared at the highwayman, shocked by the kiss, but as she studied his face, she realised something more shocking.

"You're not a highwayman," she managed, looking at the jawline, the neck, the lack of an Adam's apple. "You're a highwaywoman."

"Give the girl a prize!" She had dropped the low voice of the highwayman, but her voice was still low for a woman.

Louisa couldn't believe it. "But you can't – you shouldn't – you're a highwaywoman!"

"Indeed," she replied, removing her hat. She turned to put it beside her, revealing that her long dark hair had been put up in a bun. A few strands had come loose, framing her face as she looked at Louisa. "And what is it, Miss Linfield, that you think I can't do?" She smiled, and twirled the knife.

"You can't – you can't fuck me," Louisa replied, using the same coarse word the highwaywoman had used, and hoping her cheeks weren't obviously red. "You're a woman."

"Hmm, I can still do with you as I please, though." The highwayman leaned forward all of a sudden, her face only an inch away from Louisa's. "Trust me, it's more enjoyable than getting fucked by a man."

Louisa leaned her head back, bumping it against the wall the highwaywoman had placed her against. "Why are you doing this to me?"

"Because I can," the highwayman replied. She sat back, and picked up the knife, twirling it in her hand. "Because it's fun." She smiled at Louisa. "Who knows, you might like it too, if you'll let yourself." She ran the flat of her blade up Louisa's leg, making her shiver. "If I let you."

Louisa was quiet as the highwaywoman continued to cut up her dress. She watched as the highwaywoman worked, and Louisa occasionally winced as the cold blade pressed against her skin, but she noticed that the other woman was careful. She worked slowly and carefully, cutting around Louisa's bound wrists, and more and more fabric fell to the floor.

Her nipples hardened in the chilly air, and Louisa raised her wrists to try and cover her breasts. The highwaywoman was still sitting down between Louisa's legs.

"Oh, let me look at you, girl," the highwaywoman said, grabbing Louisa's wrists and tugging them down. She smiled as she looked at Louisa's breasts. "Those are some very pretty little breasts you have there." She put the knife down, and removed her gloves.

"Don't you dare lay a finger on me!" Louisa tried to turn away as the highwaywoman reached for her.

The highwaywoman ignored her, cupping her breasts and squeezing gently. "Not quite a handful, but nice and soft to the touch." She ran her thumb across Louisa's nipples, then rolled her thumb over the hardening nub.

Louisa's eyes were closed as she looked away. It was strange enough feeling the highwaywoman touch and fondle her breasts, she didn't want to see. She gasped when she felt something wet, and opened her eyes to see the highwaywoman leaning forward to lick her nipple. "Ah!" she gasped as the highwaywoman took one nipple into her mouth, biting gently before releasing it.

"Very enjoyable, isn't it?" the highwaywoman asked, grinning. She leaned forward to do the same to Louisa's other nipple. She licked it, then took it in her mouth to bite down. This time, when she released it, she pursed her lips to blow air across it.

Louisa shivered from the cold. "Please, don't," she said. She glanced down, noticing that her nipples were now tiny hard nubs.

The highwaywoman continued to fondle Louisa's breasts, rubbing her thumb across her nipples again, and even pinching them. She smiled as Louisa gasped. "I wonder if this is enough to make you wetter," she murmured, her eyes on Louisa's breasts. "I take it you've never been touched before by a man?"

"Of course not!" Louisa replied, scandalised by the suggestion.

The highwaywoman gave her a smile. "Well, at least that'll still be true tomorrow. Your parents will be very pleased by that, I'm sure."

She would be seeing her parents again? Louisa didn't dare to believe in the hopeful feeling that blossomed in her chest. This highwaywoman was cruel, touching and fondling her, and who was to say she would simply let Louisa go?

The highwaywoman ran her hands down Louisa's stomach and sides, stroking her inner thighs a few times, and then slid one hand up to her cunt.

Louisa squirmed, feeling the highwaywoman's fingers in a place she had only ever touched herself, feeling the woman touch those slick folds Louisa had found herself years ago. "Stop, please," she said, her cheeks red as she looked away. "Ah!"

"You are definitely getting wet," the highwaywoman murmured. Two of her fingers stroked up and down the slick folds, and she smiled. "What a good girl you are. See, your future husband would never think to pay proper attention to your breasts and nipples. Aren't you lucky you know about that now?" Her fingers continued to stroke Louisa down there as she talked.

Louisa squirmed again, and bit back a gasp. It felt strange, to have someone else touch her down there, and the highwaywoman's fingers were a little rough, but her touch was gentle, not unlike how Louisa had touched herself. She felt a warmth deep inside her, and had to admit that while it felt strange, it didn't feel bad. "Please," she muttered. "You shouldn't touch me there."

"I thought we had established that I could do with you as I pleased?" the highwaywoman asked. "But if you don't enjoy what I'm doing, I can do something else."

Louisa gasped as the highwaywoman's fingers moved down, and one of them pushed inside of her quickly. Before she could take another breath, the highwaywoman had shoved in another finger, and was now thrusting them in and out of her cunt. "Wait," she managed. "That hurts!" The woman was moving too fast, too hard, and her touch was too rough.

"I know," the highwaywoman said, and she laughed. "I thought you might enjoy that better."

"No, please," Louisa gasped.

The highwaywoman pulled her fingers out, and Louisa looked away as the highwaywoman brought her fingers to her mouth. "Mmm, not bad." She picked up her knife again.

Louisa tried to move away again. "Please, no!"

The highwaywoman turned the knife so the blunt side was pressed against Louisa's upper thigh. "What do you think I am about to do, Miss Linfield?"

Louisa bit her lip. She didn't want to give the other woman ideas. "You want to cut me?"

"Tempting," the highwaywoman admitted, "but no." She grinned at Louisa again. "I won't leave any marks on you, girl. None." She turned the knife anyway, pressing the sharp side against Louisa's skin. It hurt, and Louisa expected to see blood well up any moment, but the highwaywoman never pressed down hard enough to cut her skin.

"What do you want?" Louisa snapped, feeling desperate. She didn't understand this woman, she was like none of the women Louisa had met before. At least with a man, she'd know what to expect.

The highwaywoman traced the knife up Louisa's thigh lightly. "To enjoy myself," she said, looking down at the knife. She raised the knife, then brought her other hand down between Louisa's legs. She was quick to find those slick folds again, and Louisa shivered under her touch. She didn't push her fingers back inside, but instead went back to stroking and rubbing.

"Please," Louisa gasped, closing her eyes for a moment. She was still slick, and she knew what the highwaywoman would think about that. The worst thing was, she wasn't sure that the highwaywoman was wrong.

"You're enjoying it too, Miss Linfield," the highwaywoman said, her face close to Louisa's. "I wonder what else you'd enjoy?"

"Being let go?" Louisa managed.

The highwaywoman laughed. "Don't worry, I will let you go. Eventually. Once I've had my fun." She pulled her hand away, and stood up. She strode across the room, picking something off a table in the corner. It wasn't until she was crouching down in front of Louisa again, that Louisa could see what she was holding.

A riding crop.

Louisa's eyes went wide. "You said you wouldn't leave a mark!"

The highwaywoman smiled, and brought the crop down on Louisa's left thigh. "These marks'll fade," she said, watching Louisa wince.

The pain had been sharp, and Louisa cried out as the highwaywoman hit her other thigh. "Please!"

The highwaywoman straddled Louisa's thighs, and held her wrists down. She smiled as she traced circles around Louisa's nipples with the crop, then suddenly, she flicked her wrist and the crop came down hard on one of Louisa's breasts.

Louisa cried out and tried to turn away, but the highwaywoman simply laughed, hitting her breasts again and again. "Stop it!" She was panting now, which only brought more attention to her breasts. "Please!" She could still feel the sharp pain from the crop.

"Would you rather I hit you somewhere else?" the highwaywoman asked, now lightly tapping one of Louisa's nipples with the crop. It hurt, but not as much as being hit. "Or do something else with the crop?" She went back to tracing patterns around and over Louisa's breasts.

Louisa bit her lip, shivering at the strange sensations. Her breasts and nipples still hurt, but the feeling of the crop against that sensitive skin wasn't all bad. She gasped when the highwaywoman smacked her breast with the crop again. "No! Stop!"

"Very well." The highwaywoman let go of Louisa's wrists, and Louisa immediately lifted them to cover her breasts. The highwaywoman got off of Louisa's thighs, and pushed her thighs apart to kneel between them. She smiled as she pressed her fingers against Louisa's cunt, stroking her folds. "You're even wetter now," she murmured, grinning at Louisa.

Louisa felt like her face was on fire. "It's not – I didn't like it!"

The highwaywoman replaced her fingers with the tip of the crop. "Of course, Miss Linfield. I believe you." She flicked her wrists, and Louisa cried out in sudden pain.

She tried to close her thighs, but the highwaywoman was too strong and forced Louisa to keep her legs spread wide. "Please," she managed, feeling tears well up in her eyes. "No! It hurts too much!" She whimpered and sobbed as the highwaywoman smacked her down there again. "No!"

"I will make you a deal," the highwaywoman said, her fingers caressing Louisa's face, and wiping away one of her tears. "You admit that you enjoyed having your breasts hit, and that you liked my fingers on you, and I might stop doing this." She hit Louisa's cunt with her crop again.

"Yes!" Louisa cried out. "Yes, I enjoyed your fingers on my – my cunt! And when you touched my nipples!"

The highwaywoman brought the crop down between Louisa's legs again. "And?"

"And when you whipped my breasts," Louisa managed, her cheeks burning now.

"I wonder if I can make you beg for my touch," the highwaywoman murmured. Her fingers were stroking Louisa's folds now, and Louisa whimpered. It hurt too much to be touched down there now. "I think I could, and that you would mean it."