Chapter 32: The Trap

From time to time I have thought that damsels in distress were a specialty in my wartime career. Playing the hero generally got me a rich reward, but there were times that the lady was not what she seemed.

This one I spotted coming in a hurry down the verge of a rutted road as the sun was setting. She was holding her jacket above her head to ward off the steady rain and leaping about as she tried to avoid the deeper puddles, showing her long and shapely legs. Her white shirt was plastered to her body, and a fine body it was with a tiny waist, good shoulders and hips and jutting young breasts that hardly jiggled as she loped along. The hem of her long skirt was muddy and her dark hair hung about her shoulders in long, wet ropes.

I came out from under my tree where I had sheltered from the worst of the rain to face her. She looked up startled and put a hand to her mouth.

"Whoa," I called, offering her my hand. She hesitated but took it, and I pulled her back beside my patient horse.

"The devil after you?" I asked her as she panted, her hand still in mine, tits hard against the water-soaked cloth.

"Something like that," she said, gasping for breath, holding her wet coat at her side. She leaned against me, shivering. I held her close, enjoying the warmth.

"Don't see anybody coming," I said, peering out into the curtains of rain.

"Good," she said, standing up straight, her dark nipples clearly outlined beneath her drenched blouse. They rose and fell with her heavy breathing, stretching the cloth.

"Where are you headed?"

"Home," she said, "not far now."

"What happened?"

"Oh," she said and her lips trembled a bit, "highwaymen, stopped the stage. I ran. Lucky, I guess."

"Indeed," I said, knowing a tasty morsel like this would never be overlooked. I swung up into the saddle. "Let me give you ride on home."

I grabbed her upper arm and she put a foot atop mine in the stirrup and leapt up on my lap. She got an arm behind my shoulders and smiled up at me, pushing her hair from her face and then linking her hands behind my neck. I could feel her firm, young body and enjoyed the feel. "Where to?" I asked, my paw on her damp hip.

"Down to the ford and then left," she said, wiggling to get settled and exciting my lust as she did. I grabbed her buttocks and hefted her to a more comfortable position, at least for me. She snuggled in and I kicked the horse. Off we went.

Her home proved to be a substantial one with a row of well-maintained outbuildings. I eased her down at the back porch and trotted on to the stable where I unsaddled and wiped down my mare. Then I trudged across the mud to the back door.

She was waiting for me in the kitchen area, wrapped in a quilt which she held together with one hand while she scrubbed at her wet hair with some flannel. "Come in, come in," she cried with a smile. "Pour yourself a drink." The stoneware bottle and two glasses sat on the table along with an oil lamp. I poured us both a couple of inches of amber liquid and tasted. It was smooth and warm, a well-made whisky that sank slowly toward my toes after I drank it off and refilled my tumbler.

She tossed her toweling aside, extended a bare arm to her glass and sipped a bit, looking rather like an Indian maiden with one shoulder bare and a leg showing when the quilt fell open. We stood in the half of the house with a big fireplace behind us. It held a banked fire and cooking implements. We looked into each other's eyes, and I felt my member tingle.

I sat where she gestured, and she quickly came and perched on my lap. She bent and kissed me, holding my head on both hands and letting her quilt fall to her hips. I grabbed a firm, upright breast and kissed her back. Her tongue slid between my teeth as I caressed a breast and soft mound.

"Take me to bed," she hoarsely whispered, leaning back and giving me a good look at her lean body as my hand explored her nether lips. She was wet.

I stood with the naked girl in my arms and went toward the back room, dragging the quilt along and feeling myself rapidly hardening. I lowered her to her big bed, tossed the quilt to her, removed my belt and bayonet and then sat to take off my boots.

"Damn," said one of the big Redcoats resting against the wall, "looks like you ketched a big one, sweetheart."

He stepped forward and clubbed me down with a stout cudgel and then the two of them dragged me from the room and out across the barnyard, not quite unconscious. I struggled some and got a few blows in the ribs for my efforts. Neither of them said much as they forced me to my knees and then tied my hands and feet behind one of the posts holding up the shed roof. They seemed to be in a hurry and just looped the cord about one wrist and one ankle and then tied it to the other. I might have been hurrying too if I had a girl like that waiting in bed.

"There," said the one with the club in his hand, poking me between the eyes to make me raise my head, "you behave now an' a nice German feller'll be along soon to skin ya. We're gonna see if that young filly don' need some attention. She often do." He scratched himself meaningfully.

Just then a horseman in a dark blue uniform rode in, splashing through the puddles. He tossed the reins to one of the British soldiers and hurried off to the house.

"Damn," said the Redcoat, leading the horse to a stall, his foreflap bulging.

While this was going on, I was stretching my bonds, twisting the ropes on my wrists and sawing away at an adz-sharpened corner of the post. By the time the German came from the back of the house a few minutes later, stomping thorough the rain and buttoning his waist, I had one hand nearly loose and my fingers were prying at the knot.