Highwaymen Ch. 07

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Women together. Harsh treatment for Joanna.
2.7k words
4.51
15.3k
2

Part 7 of the 16 part series

Updated 11/01/2022
Created 08/19/2009
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So it had come about that they whiled away the afternoon at the inn. He had arranged to rent a room for tonight at least, promising to pay the landlord in the morning. Damn, he had no money! Terence was in a foul mood, made fouler by Joanna's over-played sweetness. In the end he went stomping off for a walk over the fields and through the nearby woods. He brooded over what had happened, and resolved that this very night Joanna should feel him commanding her. The woman could not be allowed to get away with this. She was manipulative, artful, she ... gods! Now his mind would not let go of his memories of her body, her face, her hair! She aroused his desire even as she aroused his ire.

Meanwhile Joanna had a bath and hot water brought to a second room. If Terence was paying for their little stay she would make the most of the luxury. She asked Rosie to help her with the bath. The girl obliged willingly, scrubbing the pretty Lady's back as requested, then washing her hair, as Joanna luxuriated with her head back and eyes closed. Her breasts, released from the strangely flattening corset she had been wearing, rose and fell above the water, pert and pink now. The Lady murmured, "Ah! That feels good Rosie. Your hands are gentle."

Then when her hair was washed and rinsed, she opened her eyes and looked up at Rosie. "Come here girl! Sit on the stool by me." She did not balk at calling the wench, probably two years her senior, girl. "See ... you have a little something spilled on you - here." Joanna gathered a little soap onto a fingertip and rubbed gently at Rosie's right breast, just above the neckline of her shift. The girl suffered the attention easily, not shy.

"I will tell you something else about Master Terence girl!" she said huskily. "You would not believe how I first became known to him!" She proceeded to relate the story of their first meeting, nimbly avoiding any mention of highwaymen. Her voice stayed low and alluring. Rosie became somewhat excited as Joanna described how she, in man's garb, had beaten and aroused Terence. As Rosie's breathing became heavier Joanna leant towards her, her face hovering near her breasts. "You have pretty breasts girl. Did Terence tell you so?"

"He did Mistress."

"Call me Celeste." Joanna purred the words. "Terence is a lucky man, to have nestled here in your cleavage." She rested her head lightly against Rosie's breasts, and noted that the girl did not draw back. In fact, she pushed just perceptibly back against her. Hmmm ... that was a good sign. Take it slowly now, she told herself. She finished the tale of the beating and their coupling, and how she had been twined around the man. Rosie began to rock very gently back and forward as she listened in rapt attention to Joanna's graphically detailed account.

Now Joanna looked up into Rosie's eyes, her own eyebrows arching in a question as her fingers hovered at the woman's cleavage, holding the ends of the bow which tied its lacing. Rosie returned her look with equanimity. It seemed she was quite at ease with this. Good. The bow pulled apart easily, and Joanna's hands opened the front of the blouse, slipping it down over the girl's full breasts. She stretched forwards and took the left nipple in her mouth, suckling gently, whilst her left hand held the right breast. Rosie made a little sound, a whimper, half fear and half desire. Joanna heard it with satisfaction. The girl was willing! Mm ... and the flesh of this breast was firm and smooth, the nipple hard and large between her lips. She suckled happily, more strongly, bringing forth further little moans and whimpers.

Now her arms encircled the wench and she pulled up out of the bath. She knelt in front of Rosie where she sat on the low stool, and returned to sucking strongly on her nipple, then flickig across with the tip of her tongue. Rosie sighed, and ran her fingers through the strange and lovely Mistress's hair, then clasped her to her bosom. Her head fell back with the attention to her nipple, and her legs parted as she felt the deep movement of her loins. When she panted, Joanna pulled her head away from its nesting place gently, and looked up. "Have you ever been loved by a woman Rosie?" Rosie was captivated by the piercing, beautiful eyes.

"No Ma'am"

"It's Celeste dear girl."

"Celeste"

"Good. I will teach you. Don't fear it. Now ..." As her eyes held her willing victim entranced, Joanna's hands pulled the skirts up to reveal the inviting pussy lips beneath. She stretched up and kissed the woman on the mouth once, then kissed her throat, still keeping eye contact. Now she moved her head down to kiss the silky skin on the inside of each thigh, eyes still upwards on Rosie, watching her reaction. The girl was ready. Joanna dropped her head between the parted thighs and licked a long stroke upward, the full length of the girl's outer lips. Rosie moaned loudly. Joanna repeated the action, and the wench pushed her pussy greedily at her tongue, which now parted the outer and rasped between the inner lips, across the pearl above those lips too. A little screech rewarded her. She sucked the bud more strongly, sucking and releasing Rosie's clit in a rhythm tuned to the girl's response.

Only when Rosie had her first shuddering climax did Joanna stop. She went to work deeper now, pushing her rigid tongue in and out of the wet and sticky embrace, then sliding a finger in alongside the tongue, and probing, finding the spot, feeling it harden as she stroked. Then a hot wet wash told her the wench's second peak had come.

She pulled back, licking her lips, and looked up to see Rosie in an almost comical mix of bliss and embarrassment and desire. "Will you help me to my pleasure now girl?"

Rosie nodded dreamily. "But ... what do you want me to ..."

Joanna smiled, and grasped Rosie's hand, guided it to her own cunt, let the girl feel her hot wet need.

"Finger me, play me as you would play with yourself." Joanna urged the woman from the stool, guided her back onto the bed, and climbed on top of her, turning around quickly so they each faced the other's sex. "Fuck me Rosie." Joanna returned two fingers to ply Rosie, who groaned and lifted up her cunt to meet the welcome fingers. "Fuck me!" Rosie jumped, and remembered finally. She started to push in and out of the woman's sex which was offered invitingly above her own breasts. Joanna began to pant and writhe. She contracted strongly on those fingers, riding them. She swallowed them hungrily and expelled them with force, quickly working herself towards her orgasm. Then she came, gushing, water running down her thighs, dripping onto Rosie's breasts. But Rosie too was near and soon she also was panting and moaning, and then wailing as she came a third time.

Joanna collapsed onto her, and they lay there breathing heavily, bathed in the warm afterglow. After a little she wriggled around and kissed the wench full on her mouth. Then she put an arm around her and they both lay drowsing.

A little while later Joanna bathed Rosie gently in the tub. They kissed and giggled like young girls at play. Then they dressed, each looking fresh and healthy after the exertions and the bath.

Joanna cautioned Rosie not to say anything of what had passed to Terence, neither of their sport nor of Joanna and Terence's strange meeting, at which the girl looked shocked. She certainly could not have said anything of it to him or anyone! Joanna reassured her, made sure she did not feel that what they had just done had been bad or wrong, and then bade her farewell, returning to the room which Terence had rented for them.

The highwayman meantime had done with his long walk in the countryside. He had calmed somewhat, as he mulled over what had passed. Damn, why had he not given her his right name from the start? Then none of this would have happened! He sighed, and resolved to be honest with her from now on. It would be easier. The witch had a sixth sense which told her when he was dissembling. Still, tonight she must learn not to embarrass him so again.

As he walked back to the inn the sky began to darken. It was almost dusk by the time he entered. He nodded to the landlord and made his way through towards the back. As he approached the stairs which led up to their room, he spied Rosie. She looked fresh and red-cheeked, but she flashed him a look of fear which set him aback, as she disappeared to the kitchen at a half-run. What had that bitch Joanna been saying to the girl?

He walked up the stairs, his mood now darker still. Without a knock he entered the room and closed the door behind him. Joanna lay on the bed, naked, pink and gleaming from her toilet, her hair arrayed in a halo of brass around her head. She looked a veritable goddess. He froze. His resolve began to ebb away at the vision of her, as his pulse raced. She looked at him with a winsome smile. "I have bathed Terence. Is there anything you would like?"

"Gods!" Somehow his anger held sway over his desire. "I want you to stop treating me like some errant plaything to embarrass when it pleases you woman! I want you to stop giving me commands, explicit or implied! I will have you obedient to me!"

Her eyes flashed at those last words. She spoke just above a whisper. "Obedient to you! Do you think I am some horse to be shaped to your liking, whipped into doing you bidding? Be careful Sir! I have warned you before about your impetuosity."

At that he snapped. He strode over to her, reaching the bedside in three paces. She was rising, reaching out for something - towards her bag which lay just beyond reach. He dashed it to the floor and then scooped it up. "So, you wanted this?" He held up the ornate but lethal little dagger he found inside, pulled it from its sheath and threw it at the opposite wall, where it stuck shuddering. She kicked at his knee viciously, but he managed to turn just enough to receive only a glancing blow. He threw himself on top of her, pinning her with his weight. She spat at him, writhed, seeking to engage her knee or elbow with his groin, but he held her down still. They were both breathing ragged gasps of air as they fought. After a little she fell still, realising the futility of her struggles. She would wait for him to drop his guard, then take him, she thought. His eyes looked down into hers. She saw a fierceness she had not seen in him before. There was a hurt too she saw, alongside his hunger and that ferocious anger. She silently cursed herself for having pushed the man too far. Yes, she had toyed with him. Did he know about Rosie too she wondered? Maybe that was what had tipped him into this rage. She stilled her own anger, and lay quiescent.

"Do what you want then. Take me." Her voice was tinged with bitterness at herself, not at him, but he could not know that. He cooled instantly.

"Dammit woman. I should take you like a bitch."

She looked at him. He was suddenly over his fit of anger. Strangely, she felt disappointment. She would like to be made to serve his need. It had been no game. She had been powerless before his raging, and now that she was no longer in danger she wanted that rage back, wanted him to take her by force in his anger. Without conscious decision, she heard herself say "Take me like a bitch then. I took your Rosie not two hours ago. And she loved it!" Her eyes bored into his, daring him to believe her. She saw that he did. Saw a hurt which wrenched her heart, then an anger which fired her loins.

He slapped her face hard. Then, backhanded, he slapped the other cheek. She glared up at him, "You fucking bastard!"

He tore ferociously at his own clothes, shedding his shirt and pushing down his breeches to his boots. Then, as she clawed at his chest and left dark red stripes, he seized her wrists and pinned them. He gasped "Get on your belly like the bitch you are. Whore. "

He turned her beneath him, and she let him, though he did not realise it. She put up a fight but she knew she could have fought harder.

"On your knees now! Be bitch for me!" He roared the words. She lay unmoving, panting hard. He climbed off her and stood by the bed. Suddenly there was a swish and she felt a sharp sting across her ass. Gods! The bastard had hit her with his belt! As the sting dissipated into warm pleasure-pain he struck again.

"I said ... get on your knees like a bitch." He began to rain blows on her. She lay there and suffered them. Little did he know that, though she felt each sting as sharp pain, the spreading heat which followed was all pleasure to her. Finally, a little dazed, she crawled up onto her knees. He was really raging! He was going to take her as a punishment! She had to school her face to displeasure. Surely if he saw her smile he would likely lay into her to an extent she would not enjoy at all! She waited.

Terence saw the red welts he was raising across her ass and thighs. At any other time such violence to a woman would have appalled him, but right now rage was driving him. The bitch must learn. When the first droplet of blood appeared he stopped, throwing the belt to the floor. Then he climbed up behind her, grasped her waist, and pushed his cock rudely into her. Oh sweet Jesus Christ! The woman was wet as a swamp! He grunted and groaned as he fucked her with a wild determination. Joanna/Celeste felt the mix of pain and pleasure stirring her deepest places. His belly rasped her sore ass as he pounded into her cunt. She could no longer restrain her body, she started to respond. She bucked under him, wriggled around his invading sex, began to moan and groan in obvious extremis of arousal. Terence came in her, his cock jerking, planting his seed deep. Then he pulled out. She moaned. "Please ... finish me... make me come ... please."

"NO!" Now at last he'd found a way to punish her! He stood beside the bed and watched her writhing. When she reached back towards her crotch he clamped her hands and bent to her ear. "I said no. You WILL obey me." She sobbed, but fell still, until after a long while her shuddering need subsided.

She turned her face towards his and he was amazed to see her expression. It was contrite, ashamed. There seemed no trace of accusation or blame of him.

"What is it?" he whispered.

"I'm sorry Terence. I shouldn't have played with you so. And now I have made you do something you will feel bad about." They both fell silent for a long time.

"But ...thank you for punishing me. I'm afraid I enjoyed it rather much." She smiled wryly. "So you see you really need feel no guilt ... though I suppose you may feel cheated by that too."

She paused again, then chuckled that throaty laugh which always stirred him so strongly. "Of course, if so, then I am at your disposal for another punishment."

He shook his head slowly. Would he ever find a punishment she could not enjoy?

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April0647April0647over 12 years ago
Fun writing

I starts to sound modern, then you throw in "obvious extremis of arousal."

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