Lady Annabelle & Kate

Two stories from 3 centuries, about one English mansion.

By Blacksheep. Listen to the
Podcast at Steamy
Stories.

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An aristocrat has an exciting encounter with a highwayman

It is the Year of Our Lord 1760, and the roads leading to
and from London be the most perilous for any traveler. Hounslow Heath being a
favorite haunt of the highwayman and footpad. Folly indeed, for the unwary to
wander alone. And London be a very wicked place, so it hath been told, with
whores, beggars and cutpurses on every street corner,

The journey of Lady Emily Arundel and her daughter Annabelle
had been an uneventful one so far.

"And when we arrive at Mablethorpe Hall, be sure to
show your appreciation to Lord Barrington-Smythe. His son, William, wishes to
seek your hand in marriage," Lady Emily began.

"Yes Mother," her daughter replied, with a
distinct lack of enthusiasm.

"His estate comprises over a hundred acres of
land,"

"Well, hark at that!"

"owns several horses related to Whistlejacket,"

Annabelle struggled to contain a sigh.

"properties in the colonies,"

"How glorious, Mother."

"knows a clutch of fashionable London society in
beautiful silk suits and powdered wigs attended by almost equally well
appointed valets! Whom are accompanied by gorgeous ladies in even more
elaborate wigs and dresses in the latest Paris fashions,"

The corpulent gentleman sat opposite them in the coach was
Lord Bracewell, an old and dear friend of Lady Emily. He grinned at Annabelle,
sensing her discomfort.

"Your Ladyship, it may please you to know, that we are
but a mile from our journey's end." And thank heaven for that, Bracewell
thought to himself, now feeling the great need of a chamber pot after drinking
an excess of ale. He adjusted his periwig.

"Erm, perhaps an opportunity at this gathering for a,
f, er, you know, eh?" He gestured something and Lady Emily quickly tapped
his leg with her foot.

"Shush. Manners, Cuthbert! Later, perhaps,"

At that moment the coach lurched as it hit a particularly
large pothole. This stretch of road was notoriously bad.

Suddenly, the coach shuddered to an uncomfortable halt and
the horses squealed. Other hooves could be heard alongside.

"Stand and deliver!"

"Oh dear God!" Lord Bracewell exclaimed, crossing
himself. "I fear we are about to be robbed!"

The masked stranger yelled at the coachman. "Throw down
your weapons my bonny boy, or I'll spill your guts on the road!"

There was the sound of muskets hitting the ground.

Inside the coach, Lady Emily trembled and uttered a prayer.
A robber might take more from a lady than her silver.

Annabelle should've been as terrified as her mother, but her
wildly-beating heart was more out of excitement.

"Perhaps this man may be more merciful than we give him
credit for?"

"Hush, my dearest daughter. These bandits are without
scruples! Pray to the Lord!"

A bay-colored horse's head and then its rider appeared
outside the window. The figure who leaned down to peer into the window appeared
tall, wearing a cape, a three-cornered hat and a black handkerchief across his
mouth. Dark brown eyes.

"Well now, what fabulous treasure do I find?" The
highwayman pointed a flintlock pistol inches from Annabelle's face. He leaned
forward and with a move of his wrist he flicked back her hood with the muzzle
of the pistol.

"Ah. A true English Rose."

"Sir, I beg of you, do not harm my daughter," Lady
Emily intervened. "She is but eighteen, an innocent child, she has no
silver!"

"Her fortune awaits at Mablethorpe Hall no doubt. But
it is she I am taking, not her money. Come." And he beckoned, the hand
still held out to help Annabelle down.

"Why, what foul swine would take a young lady's honor?
I forbid you to lay one finger on her!" Lady Emily yelled. "Take me in
her place."

"No Mother, I shall do as he asks," Annabelle
interrupted, taking his hand.

"My child, no!"

"It shall be alright Mother," Annabelle replied.

"Your daughter knows her own mind, Madam," the
highwayman said. "So now, I must ask you to keep thine own counsel. It
would give me no pleasure to shoot your coachman and your gentleman
companion."

Lady Emily could do nothing but remain in the coach as the
mysterious stranger led Annabelle away and into the trees at the side of the
road.

"Sir. If I may be so bold, may I request a merciful
death?" The damsel inquired.

This rather caught the highwayman off guard. This young lady
intrigued him far more than the other wealthy folks he'd ambushed in the past.
How the ladies had screamed like banshees and pleaded for their lives. The
simpering, periwigged dandy who'd pissed his breeches when a gun was pointed at
his head. Aristocrats. The damned preening lot of them! How he loathed these
ruling peacocks. Oh, he hadn't always been a highwayman. Back in his old life
he'd fought for king and country. Until good fortune and those he looked up to
had betrayed him,

He had planned to kidnap the girl and hold her to ransom.
Lord Arundel's daughter would command a high price.

"You are indeed bold. And, I have no wish to kill you.
Your beauty and grace are extremely attractive to young men and it is bound to
rouse their passions."

Annabelle thought for a moment. "Since I am without
silver or jewels, perhaps I could offer you a gift of a different kind? If I
were to sufficiently please you, would you let my mother, Lord Bracewell, the
coachman and myself go free? I'll do anything, to please you."

He blinked. "Even the most unladylike of things? Do you
realize what you are saying?"

"Sir, I am shortly to be married. It would be most
helpful if I were sufficiently skilled in how to pleasure my husband on our
wedding night. I have no experience whatsoever in meddling with a man, perhaps
if I could, practice somehow." Those less-than-polite urges that had been
assaulting her body recently, had now found the perfect outlet.

"Will you service my prick like a common whore?"

"Yes sir," Annabelle replied, kneeling before him.

"Let's see you try then." He kept his pistol in
his right hand. "No teeth."

Annabelle unbuttoned the highwayman's breeches slowly, her
careful motions at odds with the look in her blue eyes and pulled out the large
and swollen member. She couldn't help but stare at his impressive length,
simultaneously afraid and eager. A man's weapon in all its hardened glory. A thing
she'd previously glimpsed from afar, now in her hands.

He expected her to hesitate, but to his surprise, she leant
forward and ran her tongue up the shaft. With all haste, she opened her mouth,
allowing him to move it inside. He began to thrust his cock inside her mouth,
holding her head steady. Shocked at herself, Annabelle couldn't deny that as
she heard him pant and moan, she felt somehow strangely empowered. She began to
suck, working her tongue around his member. The highwayman cursed and blasphemed
holding her head firmer as he began to thrust faster.

Eventually, he grasped her blonde hair tightly as he
groaned, pushing his entire length down her throat and shot his seed into her.
She swallowed every drop of it, rather liking the taste.

"Impressive," he panted. He'd enjoyed that a lot
more than he was willing to admit, but wasn't done with this little rich girl
just yet.

"Have you had enough yet, Marchioness Whore?"

Panting she replied, "I think not. Please."

"Please?" He ran his hand under her dress and up
her thigh. "Please what?"

"Please sir."

He fingered her tantalizing wet womanhood. "Louder, if
you please."

"Ah, Please sir!"

He chuckled, and withdrew. She was ready to beg him, but before
she could he had her up against a tree, hands tied then the rope wrapped hight
around the thick trunk. With swift action he pulled up her skirting and down
went her petticoat. Pulling her ass out to meet him, had entered her virgin
cunt from behind, feeling the satisfying tightness of a deflowering. She winced
and made a squeal similar to those a fox makes when mating. It hurt, but at the
same time it felt so good. The highwayman withdrew until just his cockhead was
still engaged, leaving Annabelle feeling a little disappointed. But then he
pushed back in, all the way and in one go.

His animal instinct had kicked in and he had one overriding
desire; to plant his seed in this nubile young lady. He picked up speed,
plunging deeply each time.

Annabelle's own arousal was equally uncontrolled. She knew
what was about to happen after her recent voyeurism of Lord Bracewell fucking
her mother across a grand piano one afternoon. A more amusing rather an
arousing spectacle that brought to mind an overfed pug mounting a chair leg.
This time the explosion was even more powerful - and it was accompanied by the
highwayman's roar as she felt him fill her passage with his issue. It seemed to
go on forever and she felt it leaking out around his shaft and down her legs.

"God," he gasped as he finally withdrew from
Annabelle. He untied her and helped her stand.

"Did I