The Highwayman

This is my first submission to Literotica. I do hope you will enjoy it.

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Madeleine rode to her fate in a truly grim state of mind. One would think that she were facing the hangman instead of her betrothed. Her father, the merchant Hawthorne, had given her hand to the Earl of Dunnington in trade for forgiveness of his own gambling debts. How she hated the miserable sire who had never treated Madeleine or her mother better than he did his hunting hounds. She had always expected little of him, but to trade his own flesh and blood to a perverted lecher with a reputation like the Earl's was even lower than Madeleine could have imagined.

Perhaps, Madeleine thought, she might bribe the coach's driver to help her escape. No, too risky. He was her father's man, after all. Perhaps the innkeeper at their next stop would be better, but even that was risky. While her jewels were valuable, they could not compare to the reward her father would offer to anyone who foiled her escape. He had too much riding on this marriage to let his beautiful but otherwise insignificant daughter interfere with the transaction.

"Well," she thought with determination. "If I can't find a means of escape, I'll simply have to kill myself. That would be far better than dying of shame!"

On that thought, Madeleine fell into a fitful sleep. Her nightmares of the brutish Earl sent chills through her young body. In her dreams, she escaped, only to be caught and returned to the Earl's leering eyes and groping hands. She saw herself standing at the altar, bound and gagged with tears streaming down her face, shaking her head furiously when asked "Do you take this man. . .", yet nevertheless hearing the dreaded words "I now pronounce you man and wife."

Was it the nightmare that woke her, or was it something else? A loud thud from the area of the driver's seat put Madeleine's senses on high alert, as did the fact that the carriage was now moving at great speed. Looking out of the window, although the early morning sky was still dark as night, she saw riders who had overtaken her entourage. Alarmed, she shook her lady's maid awake.

"Beatrice! Wake yourself, you ninny! Something is happening!"

Before the hapless maid was fully conscious, the carriage came to an abrupt halt, throwing Madeleine to the floor. In the process, Madeleine's head roughly hit the opposite bench. "Merde!", she cried out just before losing consciousness.

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"Oh, will this godforsaken carriage ride never end?" Madeleine thought as she struggled to regain consciousness. She was horribly uncomfortable, and her head hurt dreadfully. Realization dawned on her, however, when she realized that she was not on a moving coach but, instead, lying on a bed of straw.

Her stiff limbs tried to help her into a sitting position, but the pain in her head instantly made her nauseated and she fell back.

A deep voice came from above her. "Mam'selle, you had best lie back until your head feels better."

Shocked at hearing a strange man's voice, Madeleine overcame her queasiness. She bolted upright. In the darkness, she could barely make out a roughly clothed giant of a man sitting near her. Fearlessly, she demanded "Who are you? And where have you taken me?"

"Hush! You do yourself no good by getting upset," the giant said calmly. "My name is Jacques. You've just had a small change in your travel plans. But you needn't fear. You won't come to any harm. Winston told the men that he'd kill anyone who dared to touch you. He knows that you're to be wed, and after he receives your ransom from your father, you'll be back on your way to your intended, happy as you please."

That, of course, was the last thing that Madeleine wanted to hear. "Who is this Winston?" Before she could continue, a door opened. Unaccustomed to the bright light that streamed in, Madeleine at first couldn't see the man who entered the musty chamber.

A new voice responded to her question. "I am Winston, at your service, Miss. And we are in a borrowed stable, en route to my home."

For some reason -- perhaps it was the commanding voice or perhaps it was the impressive silhouette that loomed above her -- Madeleine's bravado fled her and she was suddenly quite afraid. She was calmed only to a small extent by the knowledge that dead, she was no use to her abductors.

The man called Winston closed the door behind him, returning the room to darkness.

"So, Miss Madeleine, are you comfortable?" The deep voice, surprisingly, was not unrefined. A finger traced the line of her cheek. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise and a small chill run up her spine. When she did not answer, the man struck a match and lighted a lamp on the table beside the bunk.

Bringing Madeleine to her feet so that she could face him, his breath caught in his throat. Jack Winston had seen beautiful women before, but never one so unspoiled in her beauty as Madeleine. Briefly, the thought of her in the grasp of the vile Earl of Dunnington revolted him. But he pushed aside his sympathy. "No doubt she enters this marriage in return for the fiend's riches," he thought cynically.

In the meantime, without intending to, Madeleine inspected the face before her. He was not at all what she expected. Instead of a rough, dirty lout, she found him to be almost impossibly handsome. He was quite well groomed, with a trimmed beard and brown-gold waves that reached his shoulders. His full lips curved into a smile, somewhere between mocking and seductive, while his eyes, intensely green, were locked on hers.

Although she tried to appear composed, Madeleine she found herself nearly hyperventilating. When she saw him taking in her rising and falling breast, her cheeks burned with embarrassment.

"Are you a highwayman?" she asked in a somewhat trembling voice.

Jacques let out a large guffaw. "You could say that, Mam'selle. Winston is the king of all highwaymen!"

Winston silenced the man with a gesture, then addressed Madeleine. "You needn't fear me, Miss Hawthorne. I don't intend to harm you, merely to involve you in a business transaction with your father," he said pleasantly.

Without thinking, Madeleine spat in response, "Why shouldn't you? My father certainly has not hesitated to treat me like a chattel! Why should you not do the same?" Hr bitter words surprised Winston and brought back the earlier feelings of sympathy for her plight. Perhaps the wealth of the depraved Earl truly held no allure for the girl. Knowing the man from personal experience, Jack Winston shuddered as he wondered if the young woman knew just how rotten was the soul of her future husband, the man whose depredations she would suffer on a daily basis.

Meanwhile, Madeleine realized that she needed to advance her own plan. She held her temper in check and went on. "The wise trader, sir, does not settle on one buyer before hearing another out."

An amused twinkle came to Winston's eyes. "What do you mean? That I should also bargain with your betrothed? Since rumors of your father's financial ruin are rampant, I have every intention of approaching the Earl, even though I believe he has already paid your father handsomely for you."

This only confirmed what Madeleine already knew, that her father had offered her in trade to pay off his substantial debt to the Earl. In spite of herself, she felt bitter tears stinging her eyes. She fought them back and continued with as much equanimity as she could muster, "No, it is not the Earl of whom I speak. It is I with whom you should bargain. I am willing to buy my freedom from you with part of my dowry."

He withheld a chuckle at her expense and responded seriously. "Sadly, my lady, your dowry is already mine, as are your jewels. Is there anything else you have to offer that is not already mine or that can't be mine for the taking?" he asked, brushing a tendril of hair from her throat. His eyes sought her delicious breasts.

The tears that she had heretofore controlled began to spill over her lashes. She fought to retain her composure and restrain her anger. Setting her jaw and looking straight at him with steely eyes, she said firmly "My father's treatment of me as a whore does not make me one. Although you steal what is rightly mine, I will not purchase my freedom with my body!"

Her directness and apparent innocence surprised and aroused him. "My sweet child," he said, capturing her chin in one strong hand, "What you have to offer or withhold -- as you choose -- is nevertheless mine for the taking. I can assure you, though, that with me you will find more pleasure than you would at the hand of your betrothed."

"My 'betrothed' is not of my own choosing," she spat. "I expect no pleasure from him. I would sooner have you toss me to the wolves than deliver me to that monster. As for you or any man, my mother told me all about the supposed 'pleasures' of being with a man -- the pleasure of being rutted, invaded, no more than a receptacle for a man's seed . . . I'll have none of that, thank you!"

Winston mused silently. "So she is not an empty headed fortune hunter. And it seems that she may even be an innocent." In spite of his earlier mercenary intentions, he found himself wondering whether the bounty taken from the coach would be sufficient should he decide not to exchange her for ransom. For, although he had had more than his share of women in his life, Winston was unwilling to let go of this one just yet. The combination of her beauty and her fiery spirit hardened his cock to the point where the confines of his breeches were quite uncomfortable. Her innocence and pride stirred something deeper within him. He was resolved to be the man who would overcome her aversion to coupling with a man.

Gripping her wrists, Winston leaned toward Madeleine and softly kissed the spot where her neck joined her shoulder just beneath her ear. The kiss made Madeleine's stomach flutter and momentarily confused her. Recovering, she recoiled and tensed, wondering if she could seize his knife and use it on either him or herself.

Winston whispered between kisses "Sweet Madeleine, you are resolute for one so young and inexperienced. Do not allow your mother's undoubtedly limited experience keep you from enjoying what your beautiful body was created to do. Your father is clearly as much a wretch in the bedroom as he is with his daughter's future. If your mother had experienced a real man, . . . "

Madeleine was repulsed by his words and tried to twist away from him as best she could. As she did, Winston took her earlobe gently between his lips and caressed it with his tongue, sending a chill down Madeleine's spine. He whispered "Together, we will prove your mother wrong. Making love should be like wine, sweet and intoxicating."

Struggling to break free of his grasp, Madeleine retorted "I'd sooner die before drinking of that cup!"

As she spoke, Madeleine brought her knees up to her chest then kicked out at Winston. Her efforts, though, had no effect. He moved aside before she could strike him. Chuckling, he reached under her skirt and tore two long strips from her petticoat. Madeleine thrashed about as hard as she could, but could not keep him from tying each wrist to a bedpost. "Let me go, you pig!" she spat.

He simply laughed. Turning to his second in command, he ordered "Jacques, get her ready for the journey. We leave in fifteen minutes" and he turned on his heel and left them.

"Mam'selle, we don't have a side saddle. Can you ride astride?" Jacques asked.

Madeleine snorted in derision. "Better than any of you louts, I daresay." She remained aloof as the outlaw gathered her valise and cloak. Reluctantly, she followed him out of the stable. As they walked toward the horses that were to carry them on their way, she eyed one in particular, a magnificent stallion. If she had him as her mount, she would have an easy time in escaping. But Madeleine was helped onto a good natured mare, noting ruefully that Winston claimed the stallion. Escape on horseback was unlikely to happen.

The band of six men and Madeleine rode for what seemed to Madeleine to be an eternity. In reality, it took just three days to reach their destination. During that time, Winston deliberately avoided Madeleine, forcing himself to keep his thoughts on the prize. He had a duty to his men, who had risked their necks in abducting the young woman and who deserved their share of the ransom. And taking a considerable sum from Dunnington would be a great satisfaction. Anyway, Madeleine was just another chit. He had no shortage of pussy. Indeed, it was offered freely and bountifully wherever he went.

But the hurt in Madeleine's eyes touched him, and the defiance in the set of her jaw intrigued him. What red-blooded man could resist her combination of innocence and gumption? Just thinking of being the one to take that innocence, of watching the fire in her eyes as he plunged his cock into her made him hard as a lance and forced him to shift uncomfortably in the saddle.

His dilemma was no better resolved by the time they arrived at his compound. In spite of the wealth Winston had accumulated through his illegal profession, he lived modestly on a secluded farm. His own house was small but ample, and several smaller outbuildings provided comfort and shelter for his men and, for those who had them, their broods.

An elderly woman emerged from Winston's house as they approached. A grin split her wrinkled face. "I heard ye was on the way with a bonny one. They wasn't mistaken! But she's a skinny one! Bring 'er inside fer somethin' to eat."

Winston led Madeleine into the house, and his men dispersed. Inside, he addressed the old woman. "Miss Hawthorne will be staying with us for several days while I negotiate with her father. Please see to it that her accommodations are clean and pleasant." He turned and left the house, fearing that if he stayed near her, his mission would become less important than having her in his bed.

"Well, Missy, I'm Nell and I'll take good care of yer whilst ye're here. We'll get ye settled after ye've had some food. Now, eat!"

Madeleine sighed and sat down at the table. It appeared that Nell would stay with her until she was finished, so she couldn't steal a knife, at least not now, so she might as well eat. During her meal, Nell prattled on about Winston and what a fine, generous man he was, giving Madeleine some hope that perhaps she could plead for her freedom.

That evening, when Winston returned to his house, he found Madeleine waiting in the parlor instead of asleep in her room as he'd expected. Raising an eyebrow, he smiled his wicked smile. "Could it be that you have taken me up on my offer of instruction in the ways of making love?"

Madeleine blushed furiously. "Of course not! I merely hoped that we could talk."

"Ah, sadness! But if you would like to talk, I am at your disposal."

Under Winston's intense gaze, Madeleine found herself at a loss for words, but she forced herself. Her words spilled out. "Nell tells me that you are a kind and decent man. I beg of you, please let me go free! Do not send me to the Earl or back to my father. I may not be worldly, but I know what fate awaits me with them, and I would truly rather die. If you send me on, I swear that I will find a way to kill myself before that swine touches me."

Winston believed her. Moreover, he was determined not only that her death (or worse) wouldn't be on his conscience, but that she would be his. The mighty Winston had fallen hard, and the tantalizing Madeleine had been his downfall. Rather than allow her to see his weakness, however, he maintained his nonchalance.

"Ah, sweet Madeleine, if I could only justify not sending you to the Earl, I would most certainly accommodate your wishes. However, I have a duty to my men. They endanger themselves in exchange for a rich reward, and if I have to share your dowry with them that reward will not be nearly as great as the ransom you would command."

At his words, Madeleine bit back her tears and tried to plead her case, but he continued. "I could, of course, give the men your entire dowry. That would satisfy them, no doubt, but where would that leave me? Sadly empty handed, I fear." He paused for dramatic effect. "There is a solution, perhaps."

Her eyes lit up with hope. "Please!"

Boldly, Winston gestured, bringing Madeleine's attention to the large bulge in his trousers. She blushed furiously.

"I fear that your charms are giving me a dreadful case of blue balls." At her baffled look, he went on to explain rather shamelessly. "Darling, when a man desires a woman, his cock is most affected, as you can see mine is. If that desire is not satisfied, his poor cock suffers damnably." He cupped his bulge and grimaced dramatically as if his pain were unbearable, causing a deep blush from the roots of Madeleine's hair to her neck and modestly exposed bosom.

"I'm afraid that the only fair solution would be for me to bed you, don't you think?"

Sparks flew from Madeleine's eyes. "You are no better than my father or the Earl! To think I believed Nell when she called you a decent man! Well, if that is your so-called solution, I have a better one. I can just as easily kill myself now rather than later!" And she charged toward the large fireplace as if to throw herself into it.

Luckily, Winston was faster. He caught her quickly, threw her over his shoulder, and carried the crying young woman to his chamber. Plopping her down onto the mattress, he looked at her with a combination of amusement and frustration. "Madeleine -- you don't mind if I abandon the formal 'Miss Hawthorne', do you? It isn't often that I have to force a woman to my bed. In fact, I usually have to discourage many of them. But, you see, I have determined that such a lovely and innocent young woman should not continue under the misinformation that your mother has sadly imparted to you. I cannot send you on your way without showing you why God made man and woman physically different yet oh so compatible. And if, in the instructional process, my blue balls are cured, all the better."

He stepped closer to the trembling young woman and caressed her neck with the lightest of touches. Initially, she winced, expecting roughness. Instead, she felt a gentleness that surprised her. Running the back of his fingers down her throat to the bodice of her dress, Winston sent shivers throughout Madeleine's body, awakening sensations in places and in ways of which Madeleine hadn't been aware.

"This is hateful!" she cursed herself silently, struggling vainly to avoid his lips as they approached her.

The arms that held her down on the bed were undoubtedly strong. His kisses, however, beginning just beneath her ear and trailing down her creamy throat, were as soft and gentle as a baby's breath. He stopped to gaze at the cleft of her breasts that just barely peeked from her bodice. Her skin was the color of alabaster. There, however, the resemblance to the cold, hard stone ended. She was warm, supple. He imagined drowning happily in her softness.

Fortunately for Winston -- not so for Madeleine -- her traveling dress buttoned in the front. Continuing to caress her with his lips, he deftly unfastened the buttons to a point below her slender waist.

"Stop! I demand that you let me go!" Madeleine screamed at him in helpless fury. But her thrashing only served to whet his appetite. For, indeed, her struggles made her bosom heave, rising and falling beneath the tightly bound corset, teasing him as few other sights could.

He looked with distaste at the corset. "What an abomination! To cage a woman's body as if it were something to be ashamed of!" He drew his dagger and deftly cut through the cords that bound her corset so tightly against her. The garment fell away, spilling forth lush, full breasts. Their ivory skin was flawless, and the tight pink nipples made his mouth water. While Winston's eyes drank in the exquisite sight, shame burned in Madeline's cheeks -- shame, and something else, a strange aching feeling.