Fleeing to captivaty (kidnap roleplay for one dominant male)

“Yes Sir” she mumbles as she pulls her head back, “I’m sorry Sir and thank you for being so kind o forgive me” she says as she shuffles back towards him, deciding that she would make this easier on the both of them.

She winces s she remembers how much he liked her vulgar language “And thank you for allowing me to honour of kissing your..” she hesitates slightly “of kissing you and allowing my tongue in you rear, even if I do not deserve it.” She says feeling utterly humiliated, she knew that she must work on getting over the embarrassment and hopefully he would teach her a few new phrases as although she hated saying it, she hated not knowing what to say even more. “It tastes so good” she lies easily as she leans back in.

Her tongue slides out of her mouth once more as she grows bolder, and flicks her tongue over the tight puckered hole, running it around and around in teasing circles. She was truly sorry for biting him and wondered what the repercussions would be, she stops licking “just don’t hurt Caius please Sir, if you are mad then hurt me” she says though that’s the last thing she wants. With her piece said she gets back to work, giving him no warning and jamming her tongue straight inside and she was wrong, it didn’t taste good, she tried not to think about what she was doing as she severely doubted he was as clean as she was, she curls her tongue inside of him, not daring to take it out in case she upset him again as she had earlier.

Hank let out a low growl of satisfaction at Arabella's continued attack upon him. It had been a long day's trudge out here, since he'd left his own equines back at the hideout, and he'd put himself through quite the sweaty workout when he'd ramrodded the girl's anus for so long, the sum result of which was that Arabella was probably licking something not entirely savouring of sugar and spice and all things nice. Hank still had his own tongue available, so he put it to use, groaning only a little between his words.

"Really, who could have imagined that a girl of your high standing and aristocratic background could lick male arse with exactly the base ferocity of a gypsy dancing girl and practiced licentiousness of a back-alley whore, your Ladyship?", Hank said by way of affectionate teasing.

Her own verbal efforts had been a marked improvement over the day's earlier attempts, the commentary on himself as a flavoursome treat being particularly commendable, but since she seemed to seek some direction as she faltered through the last bits, he was, as ever, happy to provide it.

"Are you thoroughly enjoying your first kiss, Arabella? Is the experience everything you dreamed it would be as a little girl? Will you cherish this memory for the rest of your days? Will you volunteer to assault me in this manner again on the morrow?", he fired off, certain that she'd find ample material to work with from those innocent questions.

Arabella cannot help the giggle that escapes her lips that are still plastered to him, perhaps it was the tiredness or perhaps she was just losing her mind, but she actually found his questions amusing and in his own way she was sure that he thought that he was being helpful.

She pulls back “oh yes Sir I am enjoying it very much” she says as she presses a soft kiss to his puckered hole again “it is more than I imagined thank you for giving me this opportunity, for showing me that I am more of a whore than a lady” she adds, it worked better when she pretended that this was a game, she stopped thinking of the consequences and how degrading it was, with that she licks upwards. “Yes Sir I will offer to do it too you every day if you wish it, I will gladly serve you in any way you deem appropriate, even if the acts are not ones suited to a lady” she whispers the last part as she remembers that this is all against her will and not something that she wanted.

“Am I doing well? Have I pleased you enough Am I being accommodating?” she enquires since he wanted to play with the pretend niceties then she would too. “Is there anything else you want?” she questions as she licks downwards , before flicking at the tiny whole, swirling her tongue around, hoping he would allow her to stop.

Our hero was grunting his satisfaction in a manner he was sure our heroine would take to be highly complimentary. The soft stabs of her tiny tongue lashed luxuriously against his arrogant arsehole in a manner Hank found to be simply divine. He hadn't been simply flattering her with his earlier comments, this really was just as good a jobbing of his rim as you'd find anywhere from any whore in Whitechapel. Sighing deeply in pleasure, he addressed her questions.

"My darling Arabella", he began, gently pushing himself back against her delicate face, "you are doing very well indeed. You're pleasing me deeply, and I must say how privileged I feel to be the recipient of this, your precious and irreplaceable first kiss. Truth be told, I'm probably the one doing the accommodating at the moment, given your repeated earnest entries into my private matters."

"What I'd like", he continued, relishing the wet push of her tongue, "is first to grant you another small release to anchor this memory more firmly for you for ease of recollection in your later years."

Hank moved even further rearward now, forcing Arabella to lean back precipitously, and granting him access to the space between her legs as he reached down. This time, he chose to peel back the tight hood of her still very reddened and hardened lovebud, and adopt a system of simple taps with the roughened pad of his fingers. No strokes or rubs, just an insistent pat-pat-pat ever so slightly off-rhythm.

"Given the recent events of your foray into cannibalism, I'd like certain new assurances of civilized behaviour on your part. I'd like to know that you will never again raise tooth or claw to give offense to me. I'd like to know will never raise a weapon against me, e'en in my slumber. Furthermore, you should probably take just a moment to slip your naughty tongue from my sweaty arse to tell me how much you love the taste of it. I want a very sweetly worded open invitation to your plummy duff whenever the urge should strike me, as well as a contract to purify me of any vulgar perfume I should be doused with as a consequence of that invitation. I'd like to hear exactly the colourful names your noble father would bestow upon any woman who revels in these things you revel in. I want you to promise to be sweet and charming and a jolly good sport about all of the aforementioned in the future. Finally, since you're now a bum-licking eager recipient of bum-fuckery, I'd like you to swear all of these things as 'I, the noble Lady Arabella Arse-fuck, or Arabella Arse-licker, whichever should please you more, good Sir' upon the honour of the Fairbridge name", he finished, waiting to tippity-tap her once more into over the brink of ecstacy.

Arabella whimpers as she feels him pushing back, forcing her to bend in order to accommodate him, really it seemed that no matter what she did, he would always find some way of making it even more unpleasurable for her, perhaps that was his plan. Arabella whimpers as she feels his finger on her swollen nub, she was too sensitive there and it didn’t feel quite as good as last time, sure it was pleasurable but it hurt too, she tries to slam her legs closed, but her ankles are too tightly bound for her to get anywhere with that.. She jumps each time he hits it and lets out a little squeal but her tongue is never once removed from his tight bottom. She slides it in and out as he had done with his member and her bottom just a short while ago, when she hears his question.

Pulling back, letting her tongue pop free, she once again licks her dry lips, her face scrunching up as her breath and mouth did not taste too good, she would have to remember to ask him for some water soon. “Sir if you would kindly remove your hand I will happily tell you” she begins “first of all though I suggest you agree to my side of the deal, I promise I will never raise a weapon to you as long as you do not raise one to me or Caius, you have my word Sir that I will never again try to hurt you as long as you do not kill or seriously injure me” she says, quite proud that she had managed to put herself across, she wasn’t stupid, she knew that she needed his word or she would end up dead somewhere.

“As for giving me my first kiss, I can only thank you for the delicious and wonderful experience, I hope that I get the opportunity to do it many more times, and many other things, I will never deny your requests Sir, whether you want me to kiss you again or whether you wish for me to relieve you..” she says as she thinks back to him taking her in two holes this afternoon and she meant it, providing he looked after her, she would look after him.

They were nearly all of the way there. Hank could tell by the slow dessication and beginning chafe of Arabella's liplock on his fundament that she was starting to dry out because all of the juice he'd cost her by way of tears and licking and creaming of her quim. First, he'd address her counter-proposal.

"Accepted, your Ladyship, with the slight proviso that I retain the right to the switch, the lash, and the cane, should I feel your etiquette in need of gentle correction. As I have inflicted no serious permanent injuries upon you or your proud steed yet, it is no difficulty for me to forswear the same in the future", he gallantly responded.

"Now, onto your speech, which is still sadly lacking", he sadly continued, "first let us correct your posture. A more proper pose for a noble girl to tongue the bum of her swain would be something like this."

He simply began to relax into a wide-legged squat, resting most of his weight on his heels, but pressing heavily enough down on her face that she bent all the way backwards till her shoulders touched the mud and her bound wrists came into contact with her bound ankles. Slipping his hands underneath her to roughly grip her sensitive and beaten buttocks, he smiled as she recoiled from the brutal touch, thrusting her pelvis skyward. The flexibility must have come from ballet training. He wondered if her dancing mistress would have approved of seeing her innocent charge's talents tried in quite this manner.

"Your would-be Hindoo lords would have called this Purna Supta Vajraasana, m'Lady, on account of the perfect diamond shape your arms and legs are making. You should look it up the next time you search through one of their heathen texts. Now that we have adjusted your posture, I have to tell you that I'm most sorely disappointed in your continued failures at polite speech", he lectured affectionately.

"You aren't stupid, and you know exactly what I want to hear, since I've already said it all. Honestly, one suspects that you enjoy the process of me forcing the words out of you. I want to hear about your 'plummy duff'. I want to hear 'oh dear Sir, should ever the vulgar perfume of my musky pink bottom put you at risk of embarrassment again, I beg you will allow me to suck the offending scent off your rampant manhood'. I'll let you off the hook for what the Lord Fairbridge's comments would be, since I'm sure they'd overextend this little chat, but I am absolutely insistent that you make your promises as I have told you to vow them. I guarantee we will re-try this again and again until you get it right, so I'd suggest getting it right this very next time", the Hacker concluded, rising up just far enough for our heroine to once again pluck her tongue from his bottom and make a fresh attempt, but still so far down that she remained stretched in the awkward and uncomfortable pose.

He waited for her to stumble through it all properly and correctly, and at her soft, strained, but distinct 'I, the noble Arabella Arse-fuck', lay off his tapping. In a moment more, she'd sworn the oath upon her family name.

"A very modest proposal indeed, Arabella. Let us seal the deal with a return of your gentle kiss", said Hank in a tender tone as he leaned forward to press his lips against her upthrust and maddened clitoris. He adopted the firm, rough and warm licks of a kitchen tabby upon her firm bud, certain she wouldn't be able to resist once more crashing cuntlong into ecstacy in her delirious state.

Arabella whimpers as he begins to push her back, she tries not to lean back but he is too strong and with her tongue inside of him, she has no choice but to lean back, stretching her legs and arms to an uncomfortable position, it hurt and Arabella hated it, it was like everytime she managed to get comfortable he would find a way of making her hurt. “Argh” she tries to make a noise, but it is hard without the use of her tongue, she tries to flinch away from the rough grip on her bottom, he was a horrible man for doing this to her when he knew how sore and bruised she was.

However at least he wasn’t completely despicable considering he had agreed not to seriously hurt her it was the best she could hope for. As he pulls himself away from her, she allows her tongue to slide out trying not to taste her tongue, her face scrunches up in disgust as she is unable not too, but she dare not disobey. “Yes Sir, sorry Sir and thank you for allowing me to taste your arse for so long” she mumbles “Kind Sir should ever the vulgar perfume of my musky pink bottom put you at risk of embarrassment again, I beg to be allowed to suck the offending scent off your manhood” she repeats as much as she can remember, her cheeks still blushing profusely.

“I noble Arabella Arse fuck” she cringes at her own crude language. “swear to please you upon the order of the Fairbridge name” as if she hadn’t really dishonoured her name enough.

“Thank you” she whispers although she is secretly wishing for it to be over, she needed to drink, her mouth was dry and tasted terrible but she still slides it gently back inside, tilting her head to the side so she can probe it deeper, sliding it in and out.

She gasps as his hand once again resumes his tapping on her poor unprotected clit, it was too sensitive and yet there was pleasure behind it, she squirms on the ground and screeches as it stretches her bond in the new position, immediately stiffen.

As her tongue plays with him, her legs begin to quiver as the pleasure once again builds up and she moans loudly. Wetness dripping out of her womanhood and flowing downwards in to the ground below, thrusting her lower half even further upwards. It brought her so much pleasure and yet it was so uncomfortable as well.

Hank left off his licking of of Arabella's cunt-top to encourage her in his genial avuncular way:

"You see, my dear? Sorry, nearly forgot your preferred method of address. I wouldn't want you to think me impolite" He leaned over and slid his tongue around her nubbin by way of apology, then began anew:

"You see, lovely Lady Arse-fuck? I knew you'd come to the enlightening self-discovery of what a terrible tart you were given the right incentives and stimuli. No need to say anything further, just keep digging away with your little tongue and cast your mind back over the pleasant events of this lazy afternoon. I want you to sear them indelibly upon your soul, they'll probably bring you great comfort through all the rest of your life. Shocked as I am that a noble girl of your background should choose such shameful self-abasement, it was my honour to aid and abet you in beginning this exciting journey," said Hank with a tone of genuine pride.

"Now, how does this feel?" he continued, circling her rosy swollen pleasure tip with his broad and hot tongue. He could feel her tensing and straining as he wound her tighter and tighter, and just as she reached the very height of stimulation, he slipped a finger all the way back into her sore arsehole, and only the tip of another into her maiden cunt, stopping just shy of her virginity.

Arabella gasps at his words as she prays to god that he didn’t plan to always address her in such a demeaning way, she hated it, the words alone would have been enough to make any lady gasp, but attached to her name it thoroughly repulsed Arabella.

She wanted to do or say something, but when he called her a tart it should have hurt her and it did but it also made her womanhood twitch for some reason that was unclear to Arabella. Even without meaning to she obeys him as she thinks back to when she was sat at the lake , no clue to the dangers and humiliations that faced her, she switches, remembering him using a switch on her bottom, wincing at the memory, still feeling even now. She thinks about sucking his manhood, his big hard manhood after he had taken her back…

“Argh” she cries out feeling his finger in her arsehole, it felt so much bigger as it roughly scraped the side, his finger in her hole she cannot help but say something, slowly sliding her tongue back out she llicks her lips.

“Please Sir don’t do that” she whimpers, even if she had to give her virginity to him she wanted it to be taken in a bed in a sweet way not by his finger out here in the mud, she quickly comes up with excuses “the position and these binds are uncomfortable and I am thirsty it would only be polite to grant me some water and assistance getting up” she plays his own card on politeness. “If you would be so gracious.”

The swagman chuckled at her mewling pleas. She hadn't quite twigged yet that none of this decision was hers to make. Her input wasn't actually input, it was something he entertained himself with as he found new ways to play her body as a sexual instrument for his own amusement.

"Less whinging, Lady Arse-fuck. Your chastity is safe from my finger, but you're not getting up until you have a lovely great cum", Hank chided her.

"And you do want another one, don't you Arabella? You can remember everything that happened today, and you're so tired, and so anxious, and so very overstimulated. I shall be unrelenting until you succumb to your dark passions, and trust me, any attempt at feigning or fakery will be swiftly detected whilst I have my finger up here. Now, come for me", he said, reclamping his lips around her throbbing clitoris.

Hank was looking forward to the sight. Her bound form would stretch magnificently against her bonds. The setting sun would shine directly through the "O" of her upside-down and constrained body, much as the pleasure he would inflict upon her would flash through another "O". A very artistic redoubling.

She didn’t she really didn’t want another one, all Arabella wanted was to be freed from this awkward position, to be given a drink and food and to crawl into bed, she wasn’t sure she was going to get any of them though, at least not until she gave him what he wanted.

Faking? These rang a bell with her, she remembers her mother telling her once ago that sex was never enjoyable for a woman but she must pretend for the sake of pleasing her husband, though Arabella was unsure of how anyone could fake the feeling, it was overwhelming and whilst earlier she had enjoyed his attentions, now they were too much, it was more than pleasure it was uncomfortable and I made her want to cry.

Her tongue darts inside of his arsehole, which thankfully now the only thing she could taste of her saliva and despite herself she was quite enjoying it, well perhaps she wasn’t and her tongue was numb and throbbing but her womanhood was quivering and soaked. She whimpers and squirms as he attacks the nub with her mouth, she tries to get away but fails, finally the pleasure overtakes her, and she pulls her head back to scream… loudly it was almost unbearable. “Stop just stop” yet at the same time the pleasure from earlier was there just a little subsided. She sniffles softly as her body falls limp again, hoping he was satisfied.

There, all nicely done and finished. Hank looked down at the writhing, overpleasured form of Arabella and was glad. And now, with the men of the manor probably rounding very soon in upon him, it was time for them to exeunt. First, he'd need to dust off his latest prize. Probably give her a wipe down too, considering all the mingled scents and odours wafting off her once entirely virginal body. Hank picked up the girl, smiling at her weak mewls and protests, and carried her down to the lakeside, placing her down in a kneel on the soft rushes.

Grabbing the largest remaining patch of her ruined dress, Hank soaked it in the limpid water, and slowly and meticulously scrubbed all the muck and spunk off her porcelain skin. He was careful with her beaten and bruised buttocks, using a very tender touch as he ran the cloth over the welts he had raised. He used a very light touch as he wiped her face, removing the shameful traces of smell she'd picked up around her nose and lips.

"Big breath Arabella, you probably don't want your hair in quite that condition, but one suspects you wouldn't appreciate drowning either", the robberman said, gently pinching her nose shut, then dipping her head and muddy coiffure in the lake. He quickly ran his fingers through her long curls as she was submerged, knocking off most of the dried mud and some of the dried cum. Then he brought her back up well before she grew uncomfortable from a lack of air, and repeated the process until her hair was entirely clean again. He pulled her back to the dry bank, removed his thick black cloak, and draped it about her to shield her from the evening's settling chill. He left her there, wet and blind, but clean and warm, as he managed a few final bits of business.

Bundling up all of the shredded remnants of Arabella's clothes, the Hacker wadded them up, then used the big bit to bundle them around a large and weighty stone. He hoisted it up to his knees, spun about widdershins, and let it sail out into the lake, where it splashed down and vanished from sight into the deep waters. Her two knives, he tucked away in his boots, marvelling again at the fineness of their make. Finally, he unhitched Caius from his tether, and led him over to Arabella's kneeling form.

"See now, here's an old friend for a good little girl. And still with both his big eyes, too!", Hank chortled, lifting up the sorely tried young Lady and depositing her facedown over her steed in much the manner a farmer would place a sack of new potatoes on a donkey.

"Pleasant as our afternoon's diversions have been, your Ladyship, I think it high time to hie us away to my bandit lair", said Hank, vaulting himself up onto the horse behind her. He placed a proprietorial hand on the small of her back, securing her in place, and dug his heels into the great steed's sides.

Truly a remarkable bit of horseflesh, Hank thought as the lake rapidly receded behind the blurring treetrunks of the forest. Whoever Caius' breeder had been, the man was definitely a master at mixing horseblood.

Nice little bit of cuntflesh as well, he mused to himself as they sped along on their way.

Arabella barely has time to take a deep breath, sucking in as much air as she can muster before she is thrust into the cold water, Goosebumps immediately rising up all over her skin. Even though he barely held her underneath, she begins to panic, her legs flailing in the bonds as she struggles to get up, but he doesn’t let her, whether he was aware or not.

When he finally pulls her up, she sucks in a few deep breaths of air, thanking god for not letting her drown. Although he had promised not to kill her she still wasn’t sure and she hoped that she was still being watched over, even if she had engaged in filthy unholy acts and perhaps even enjoyed them a little, even if she would never actually admit this out loud. She was however thankful to be clean, she was sure the smell coming from her had been most unpleasant, she had however had her tongue in the most unsanitary of places just a few short minutes ago.

She shivers under the cool breeze and suddenly something thick and warm drapes around her, something she can only assume is his cloak, a flicker of a smile flitters across her face. How romantic was that? Perhaps she was delusional but she was sure that it meant he at least cared a small amount for her. “Thank you Sir” she whispers softly as she cuddles closer against its warmth.

She hears him moving around, but pays no attention, she didn’t care what he was doing. Arabella gasps as he picks her up and throws her over Caius.. but secretly she was happy as she turns her face pressing it against Caius’ beautiful soft face, trying to soothe the poor horse as they begin to ride, a little worried that she will be thrown off, however about half way there her eyes close and she falls into a deep slumber, tired from the days events as any lady would be.

Caius truly was a remarkably well-bred and well-trained steed. With nary a trace of foam or fatigue, he tirelessly bore his two riders along the darkening forest paths, twisting and snaking a course Hank was certain Arabella wouldn't have been able to retrace even if she hadn't been blindfolded. As the evening settled moodily over the land, the highwayman leaned forwards over the girl he had before him and guided the magnificent horse straight through what appeared to be an impenetrable hedge, and into his bandit encampment.

The Hacker's lair was set in a mossy clearing of a thirty-pace span, surrounded tightly on two sides by the forest, on one by a very picturesque little babbling brook just slightly too wide for a man to jump, sparkling in the day and inky in the darkness of night, and finally by the seemingly impenetrable topiary they'd just crashed through. Bang in the middle of the clearing was a slight depression in the earth where a barely-smoldering firepit lay, next to which was a waxed canvas sheet covering what seemed to be a stack of cords and faggots. Secured to the trees near the stream were Hank's own three horses, stolid beasts and very functional, but not anywhere near as impressive as the latest addition to the stable.

At the other woody copse, opposite the horses, was, amazingly, a slightly oversized red-and-brown stagecoach. How our hero had inveigled the thing into the clearing was a mystery not immediately apparent, and perhaps a subject best left unexplored. It was constructed of fine oak, with teak and mahogany panelling, big many-spoked wheels, and polished to a soothing gloss. The crystal of its windows were misting gently in the evening dew. About two yards from the bottom of its steps was a large treestump, sawed perfectly level at a height of about four feetand sanded and stained to a fine finish, around which were scattered some smaller logs of a perfect height to sit at the larger as though it were a table.

Taking Caius in a wide loop to make his halt not quite so abrupt, Mr. Kerr finally pulled him to a dead stop by the other horses. Judging by the Lady Fairbridge's gentle and regular breathing, she'd be fine atop her beloved companion whilst the Hacker got dinner ready. One of his favourite abilities out of his broad repertoire was his talent at cookery, and he'd done some of his finest work in that sphere tonight. Hank slid surreptitiously off the horse's back, tied him loosely to an available branch, then walked over to the firepit.

Reaching down to what appeared to be just a squarish bit of rock, Hank grabbed it, and delicately slid aside what was in fact a slab of slate, moving the top fire aside and revealing a pile of glowing red rocks and hot peat. Humming, he wandered over to the coach, and pulled a long-handled shovel out of a hidden rack from its underside. Walking back to the middle of the clearing, he slowly shifted the burning stones aside until he revealed a steel strongbox, then lifted it out with the shovel and deposited it close to the water where the air was cooler.

Hank then pulled a key from his cloak, unlocked the coach's door, and vanished within for a moment, returning with a pristine white tablecloth, which he draped neatly over the giant treestump, a bottle of a quite excellent vintage and two glasses, which he placed upon the tablecloth, and a basket containing two exquisite china plates, one vast serving dish, one small gravy boat and sterling silver cutlery laid atop a very silky bit of blue fabric. Nodding his approval, the Hacker went back to his lovely hostage, still perfectly secure atop Caius despite her bondage and slumber. He gently eased her off the beast, marvelling that she barely stirred. He supposed he had put her through quite a strenuous bit of exercise today. Setting Arabella gently down on her knees in some soft moss, Hank undid her ties and removed the blindfold.

He then walked over to the now slightly-cooler strongbox, and struck the catch of the lid a blow with the blade of the shovel, popping the thing open. Immediately, the succulent aroma of the goose Hank had pilfered and plucked this morning began to permeate the air, redolent with the fragrance of the orange rind and tarragon which he was so partial to, as well as the commoner herbs he allowed for convention's sake. If the smell of the bird itself didn't bestir young Arabella, that of the chestnuts and bacon stuffed within it surely would, or perhaps the crisp-roasted spuds it was nesting upon. As if on cue, he saw her crinkling her nose for the second time today, and then flutter her pretty eyes open.

"Ah, just in time for dinner, M'lady," Hank called out in a friendly tone.

"If you would be so good as to set the table with what's in the basket, I will endeavour to wrestle this creature out of his metallic confines and onto the serving platter. I realise that you are most likely not used to dining au naturel, so you will find gloves and stockings underneath the crockery in that basket, and new shoes beside it. Also in the basket is a quite enchanting diamond necklace I was made a gift of by a Duchess last May, as well as some fetching earrings, and a brush, a comb and paints and powders for a lady to make her toilette," he continued, hoisting the bird up and onto the big dish in one steady motion.

"Yes, those are all the clothes I'm letting you have for now, which will most likely leave your tits and cunt completely on display throughout, I'm afraid. Still, I trust you have no objections? A Lady should strive to delight and amuse her dinner companion, don't you agree?" he concluded, artfully arranging roast potatoes around the cooked goose.

A heavingly smell drifts through the air as Arabella begins to stir, thinking that it must be time for dinner and that she better hurry if she is to make it down. Her father liked to eat at an exact time and a minute late meant she would be dining with the servants. Her eyes flutter open as she takes in her surroundings, a cool breeze over her body and suddenly the memories hit her of the ordeal she has been put through and as the normal thoughts vanish tears immediatly begin to fill her eyes as the reality finally hits her. She was never going home, she would never experience the luxury she had been accustumed to for so many years.

However the friendly tone of his greeting cheered her just slightly. As she scrambles up to her feet as quickly as possible, however she does not look at him, her face is red with shame. Her nakedness on full display.

She makes her way to the basket and begins to dutifully set the table with cutlery that he had no doubt stolen from other innocent victims. She hears him calling out to her about gloves and stockings, yet she discards it, she would rather dine naked than in such ridiculous attire that only served to embarrass her and entertain him. Once she has done she drops the basket to the ground in silent defiance.

"Sir is it almost done, I am most famished as I have not eaten since breakfast" she states, hoping he will not comment on her choice not too wear the iteems provided. Her voice is so soft that she is sure he cannot here "there must be a way out of here" she mutters under her breath as she surveys the surroundings facing away from him looking outwards.

Hank tut-tutted as he heard Arabella's latest little bit of nonsense. Well, she had had a lifetime of pampered luxury and servants behind her, short though though those years might have been. Doubtless it would take more than one anal devirginization to bring her back to the path he intended. He'd simply continue his path of gentle remedial chastisement and correction until he had completely and thoroughly re-trained her. The Hacker thought the subtle distinction critically important. Merely breaking a girl was something any brute with a clenched fist and bellyful of gin could do, but the pleasures to be had from a timid, shirking brutalized victim with a black eye and a nervous shudder were no fun at all for a man of his more refined palate.

Hank far preferred perverting a girl. The scene of Arabella sitting on her haunches in the mud, thanking him in the prettiest and politest language possible for granting her the obscene "courtesy" of sucking the forbidden scent of her no-longer untouched bumhole from his burly prick flashed once more before him. He felt an involuntary twitch in his breeches at the pleasant recent memory. No, he would be resolute, for both of their sakes. He'd push her and push her until something snapped and she became the nasty yet elegant creature he longed to transform her into. The tool, of course, would be the moral training and honesty of her own wholesome upbringing. That would be the most delicious avenue of corruption to pursue.

"My dear Lady Arsefuck" he cheerfully began, relishing the crestfallen look which befell her as he continued to heap abuse on the sorely-tried aristocrat, "I still believe that you promised 'I will give you everything you desire' to me. Now, I am but a humble highwayman, but I am persuaded that I have adhered to our agreement perfectly, whereas you continue to attempt to shirk and avoid granting said desires as requested. Am I to take it that all Fairbridges are quite so...cavalier with their verbal bonds?"

"If that is in fact not the case, and members of your noble House generally abide by their words, do be a dear and dress up for din-din as I've so gently asked. As a bonus, why don't you cast back your mind to your instruction by your mother and governess on how a young lady should seek a gentleman's opinion on her appearance? Where before you'd probably ask a swain if he liked the look of your dress, here I feel you should preen a little and ask if I'm fully able to take in said tits and cunt, whether I find the sight pleasant and amusing, and reassure me thoroughly that you'd be happy to adopt any posture to guarantee me a pleasant view as we dine" he finished, deciding that he wouldn't need to threaten her with any violence. Not just yet, anyway.

Arabella"s face immediatly falls as he adresses her by that horrific name. How dare he, did he honestly have no regard for her feelings at all? Arabella scoffs at the thought no of course he didn't. He did not care for her and she must never allow herself to think that as it would be false.

However as he continues she sighs loudly and reluctantly, it was true she had given him her word and now he was questioning the honour of her family, it was clear she had very little choice in the matter. Taking a deep breath, she straightens up her back and sucks in deeply "your right Sir, I suppose that I did give you my word, however I did not think you would ask for such a ridiculous thing. I demand proper clothes and for you to change the way you address me, you may call me Lady Arabella or just Arabella" she pleads hopefully, this man for all the aires and graces he put on clearly had no manners.

But she was famished and she knew she wouldn't get anywhere. "Fine" she states as she sits down, picking up the stockings, resisting the urge to rip them into shreds, she slowly slides her foot into the luxiourious stockings, rolling them up her legs, stopping mid thigh and then repeats with the other leg. Arabella grabs the gloves and slides her fingers in and up her arm. "Are you happy now?" She asks him as she grabs the comb and pulls it through her tangled curls wincing slightly before giving up and throwing it down. She refused to get anymore dressed.

"May we eat, it smells delicious and it has been a long day." She states "Is my attire acceptable? Does it please you Sir?" She asks through gritted teeth as she looks up at him a worried expression on her face, her white teeth biting nervously on her full pink lips as she looks at him hopefully, she was unsure. How much more she could take today.

Hank beamed widely at Arabella. Getting her to engage in this absurd conversation was half the battle. Once she slipped down the path of negotiating terms and disputing points, she was wandering into the trap of his devious mind, and the highwayman was certain that was a confrontation he'd win every time. He began to slowly carve into the bird, the crisp brown of its skin peeling away to reveal a thick layer of tender succulent fat, and below that the moist delicate flesh of the creature. A rivulent of hot, fragrant juices ran down into the platter, soaking richly into the gently steaming spuds. Arabella was still acting the Lady, not seating herself until invited to table.

Looking directly at his work with the carving knife, Hank gently hummed a tune, allowing the delicious aroma to waft through the air and madden the Lady's nostrils and churn her empty stomach. As he began to work on separating a leg, he continued with his critique, in an almost bland tone.

"My dear Lady Arabella", he started, yielding temporarily on a small point, much the way an expert angler gave play to a line to weary out a hooked cod, "I believe I asked you directly whether you had any objections to having your tits and cunt on display, whether you agreed, as polite society does, that it is a Lady's duty at a dinner to delight and amuse her companion, and then added just two little snippets beside very recently. It doesn't do us any good to have you fuming and gnashing your teeth when you could just smile your sweet smile, and chirp through the four minor points of conversation I brought up, does it? Besides, I wouldn't want your portion to have to go to waste and become fox-food, I'm judging by the gentle growls you're emitting that you're most likely a fan of my style of roast. So, do let's be a reasonable girl and give it another jolly good effort, what?"

Arabella sighs loudly, she knew that he was right, as frustrating as it was, it was very true, she was a lady, and a lady should always do their best to please their company, especially the gentleman, she was raised that way, to be a pleasent hostess to always strive to please and to adapt quickly.

"I apologize sir please forgive my moment of forgetfullness" plus the threat of feeding her dinner to the foxes was a terrifying thought, she had not eaten since breakfast and she had had a long tiring day and she was weak eith hunger. She tentivaly takes a step towards the large man. It was hard for her because he was so big and intimadting and he had proved today that he had no problem with hurting her if she did not obey him. As she walks closer the smell of the bird intensifies her stomach growling with hunger, her cheeks immediatly blushing, it was unladylike to have such an appetite, but she couldn't help it.

"I thank you for addressing me with my proper name and I hope that you enjoy the way I look for you tonight. I have tried my hardest and I hope that you think it looks good and that you have a good view of my assets.".. She blushes resisting the urge to fold her arms over her small breasts her nipples hard. "I hope the sight of my breasts and" she blushes once again "my cunt are pleasing and if I can be more accomadating then please do not hesitate to tell me" she reaches out and touches his arm softly, her thing fingers brushing against the rough skin. "Was that okay?" She asks sounding unsure of herself and a little vulnerable.

Striving, as always, to keep Arabella unbalanced, confused, and unsure of herself, Hank slipped a strong arm around her waist, levered her delicate chin up gently with a strong finger, and leaned in to kiss her fully and strongly on her perfect coral lips. It wasn't at all brutal or rough, but it was very definitely firm and decisive. He kept his icy blue gaze locked upon her soft brown one until she softly closed her eyes. Hank made the kiss long and satisfying, exactly the thing she would have wanted him to give her at the lake instead of the mockery he'd made of the affair. He knew, as she fell against him, that she'd be dimly aware, no matter how much she enjoyed it, that he could have done exactly this before, but had chosen not to. He hoped she'd find the thought maddening.

Reluctantly breaking off, he pulled his head back while looping her body in more tightly. Smiling at her, a genuine smile, for he was genuinely happy and pleased at her progress, he spoke softly.

"Your tits and cunt are perfectly delightful to see, Lady Arabella. Shh, don't blush, it is an honest and straightforward compliment which your charms entirely deserve to be paid. Anyone who couldn't see that would simply be a boor. Now, would you please do me the honour of joining me at table? I should be very appreciative of your skills as hostess this evening."

Arabella gasps as she feels his strong arm around her waist, pulling her towards him, it is only then she realises just how weak she is compared to him, that the fighting was pointless and that she should try to make the best of it, it is all that she could do really. Her eyes lock onto his, looking up into his handsome eyes, she feels captured in the moment. She gasps as he leans in, this was it, he was going to his her. She stares into his eyes as he presses a kiss to her soft lips, it felt so good, she finds herself leaning in against him, her lips pressed against her own as she kisses him back, her lips parting to allow him accsess if he chose. She cannot help but wonder why he had not given her a kiss like this in the first place. This is the kind of first kiss she had wanted, one that made her head spin.

As he pulls back, she pouts slightly, having wanted more as she licks her lips and opens her eyes, glancing up at him, to see the warm smile on his face. Perhaps if she was good life wouldn't be that bad, maybe even enjoyable. Or perhaps she was getting a little ahead of herself.

She blushes at his bold words. He was rude and yet she delighted in his praise "th..thank you" she stammers out as her eyes drop to the ground, her lips still tingling.

"Yes thank you" she says softly as she walks towards the table.. Well it wasn't a real table but it was close enough, Arabella sits, her legs snapped together tightly conceling his view. She smiles at the unexpected turn as she looks up at him waiting for him to bring their dinner to the table. "I thank you for your kindness Sir and your hospitality" she states, her hands cupped in her lap, goosebumps on her arms as she shivers. "I don't suppose I could trouble you for something to cover myself with, it is rather cold outside" she asks quietly and she was a lady afterall.

"Certainly, my sweet Lady" the highwayman gallantly responded, placing the enveloping warm blackness of his cloak once again about her shoulders, but leaving it open in the front so her pert breasts remained entirely visible and brazenly displayed. Any chill in the front would soon be handled by the comforting heat of the food and drink she'd partake of.

"Ah, careful now, that posture is just a shade too modest" he chided, parting her clenched thighs apart with the irresistible force of his large hands, ignoring, as always, the girl's feeble attempts at decency as he moved her knees at least three span apart.

"There, now your luscious cunt can amuse me throughout dinner!" he declared , reaching down to stimulate the organ in question with a lewd probe and vulgar stroke of his thick fingers, ignoring Arabella's sudden gasping intake of breath.

Hank placed a heaping serving of the finely-roasted bird on the Lady's plate, giving her a generous assortment of potatoes, as well as a large spoonful of the succulent vegetables he'd stuffed it with. He then poured her a glass of the wine, and settled down to his own place, allowing himself a slightly larger helping. The beast was a fat old bird, however, and there was at least twenty pounds of it left over, so there would be ample food enough for the both of them tonight.

"Shall we dine, Lady Fairbridge?" he politely enquired, raising a glass.

"To your beautiful eyes and pretty cunt" he toasted.

She smiles gratefully "thank you" she says softly as the thick heat of his cloak warms her instantly, it was clear she was not supposed to cover the front of herself though, so she does not attempt too, fearful he will take it away from her and she was not lying to him, she was cold. She tilts her head to the side pressing her cheek against the thick fabric, inhaling deeply, it smelt like him and that was strangely comforting, it made her head swim with memories of the kiss. Shaking her head quickly she forces herself to think about what he had done to her earlier and immediatly her face hardens, she couldn't give in.

"Please?" She whines as she feels his hands on her thighs and she tries to keep them closed but he easily prys them open and she of course gives in and leaves them there, she was getting rather used to being naked infront of him. She gasps loudly as she feels his finger against her exposed womanhood, Arabella whimpers and wriggles in her seat but thankfully he does not linger too long. As soon as he busies himself serving dinner. She closes her legs just a tiny bit, maybe an inch or so, hardly enough to notice but it made her feel better.

She frowns in dissaproval at his crude language. But raises her glass "to this lovely dinner and a gracious host" she toasts with a smile, waiting for him to drink first so she knows the wine has not being poisoned only then does she bring it to her own lips and take a small sip. Not waiting for further invatation, she puts the glass down and tucks into her dinner, taking a dainty bite, trying to show her manners and good breeding despite her present company or the grumbling of her stomach.

"May I ask Sir what is your plan for me? How am I too spend my days here?" She questions, wanting to become familiar with her new role.

"Well, dear Lady, I believe you yourself proposed a course of entertainments by the lakeside, round or about the time you informed me of the cost of these lovely weapons" Hank said, motioning to her daggers in his belt.

"Before we discuss that, however, how about some lighter conversation?" he proposed, moving swiftly on to a different topic as Arabella cast her mind back to her promises. He then served up multiple volleys in quick succession on a variety of current and theoretical subjects, a rapid-fire display of his urbanity and wit. He was fairly confident that Arabella might be taken by the breadth of his conversational ability, and he took an exhibitionistic delight in demonstrating his cleverness to women. For his part, he admired how thoroughly the girl had studied her subjects, and found her a scintillating and charming companion in a purely social sense.

He also found her attractive in a carnal sense, of course. So, wickedly intermixed throughout the perfectly innocuous queries about her opinions on horses and the best inns and way-houses of the parish were some minor snippets of perfectly obscene discussion. He'd charmingly solicit her advice about the merits of peaches in varying stages of ripeness, then lewdly slip in a frank "I trust your cunt isn't too cold from the night air, Dear Lady. I'd hate to inconvenience you simply for the sake of my amusement." This went on repeatedly throughout the discussion, lengthy honest sharing of ideas interspersed with vulgar demeaning comments about her anatomy, but always, always, couched in the pseudo-formal language he enjoyed using on her and having her use.

When Arabella went through her first plate, he gladly refilled it, and kept her amply supplied with wine as well.

Arabella finds most surprisngly that he seems to have a knowledge for so many differant subjects, perhaps even more so than she. As she found her self struggling to keep up with him just slightly.... He seemed to have so much knowledge but more than that he had experience of the world, something she was much lacking. She smiles sweetly as she listens to his stories and offers his opinions and even asks for hers which she immediatly gives him, usually a lady was not asked and if they were their opinions were not valued.

"It is quite cold actually" she says as she pulls the cloak around her fully and clutches it closed, her legs snapping closed as she smiles at him, he had brought that upon himself, but she had hoped that he didn't mind, she had after all sat infront of him open to his inspection for an entire meal in fact most of the day.

Arabella eats until her stomach is full and she cannot manage another bite, she pushes it away from her as she holds the wine up to her lips and sips it, warming her up. "Sir..." She begins "I must thank you for this pleasent evening and meal, but I grow tired, it has been a long day, would you mind terribley if I retired for the evening?" She asks, hoping that he would not want anything more from her this evening, she had promised him that she would do whatever he wanted but she was too tired tonight. She lifts her head up her big brown eyes locking onto his as she smiles sweetly at him.