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."
