Send her home

"This was a mistake Lady Marlton." Charlotte lifted her body high enough to stare at the Highwayman in disbelief as he helped her up off the bed. "If you leave now you can still be home before nightfall, and perhaps preserve your reputation."

"I don't understand." Charlotte stammered in confusion. Up until now the horrific encounter had progressed exactly as expected: captured, bound, stripped of her clothing, thrown onto this great bed and ****... well ravished at least, until her womanly senses were overwhelmed and she willingly participated in her defilement. "My father will pay a ransom, even now." It was certainly true, she realized a little sadly; not every bride bled on her wedding night, and her suitors while perhaps disappointed, would be willing to ignore her sullied condition considering the size of the estate that came with her hand.

"I told you Lady Marlton; I made a mistake thinking that I could use you like this." Her captor told her softly "My treatment of you was as shameful as your family's betrayal of Mary." He turned his face away from her but Charlotte still saw the pain in his face in the soft glow from the fire and in a flash she knew why he had looked so familiar.

There could be no doubt, this was Mary's brother. Black Brand was Fuller after all! Lord Marlton's wardens had looked into all the men who might have a grudge against the Marlton estate and assured him that Fuller had sailed on a East-Indies bound frigate. But this was he; now that she knew who she was looking at it was impossible to miss. His hair was two shades darker than Mary's golden hair but he had the same broad mouth and even his eyes were the same exact color.

"Please, just go.” Black Brand climbed from the bed, pulling his trousers over his lean legs and fine ass; Charlotte knew that watching a naked man dressing was highly improper but she didn't care. After what she had just done it was a little late for proper modesty, after all, compared to straddling Mr. Fuller's prone form and f-f-fucking him, a little voyeurism was the least of her sins.

"Get dressed, Lady Charlotte, I'll show you the path back to Marlton Manor." It was silent in the cave as they dressed, Charlotte had to forgo wearing the lace briefs that had been sliced off her thighs a lifetime ago and one of the garter clasps wasn't working properly, but with her captor's aid in refastening the tiny buttons up the back of her dress and after pinning her hat back she looked presentable enough. She did not look like a woman **** and ravished by a **** outlaw, and neither was that how she felt. Charlotte felt a inner glow that she could never have imagined just a day ago, even the uncomfortable soreness between her legs, although a constant reminder of what she had done, was abating as she walked through the quiet woods.

Charlotte’s mind buzzed with conflicting thoughts as she hurried away from the secret lair through the thick underbrush. She knew who Black Brand was and why he had seemed so familiar. Charlotte wasn’t sure if it was the half heard mention of Mary’s name, or the raw fury of his anger that prompted her memory, but Charlotte was as sure as the throne of the empire that she had figured out the highwayman’s identity. However, that knowledge only led to further questions.

If Mr. Fuller had wanted to punish her for her family's failings he should have been much rougher, brutally violating her without any regard for her well being. He could have kept her chained to his bed to be used again and again for his pleasure, or at the very least returned her to her father wearing only torn undergarments with her thighs bruised and bloodied so there could be no doubt about ruined status. Instead, he had taken care that her reputation might be preserved, carefully dressing her before sending her away.

Randy Fuller must make it his goal in life to complicate hers. Her birthday party from last fall was completely ruined by his uncouth manners. Her guests soon seemed to have dismissed his horrible interruption, but the sudden news of Mary’s ****, and his accusations against Lord Marlton’s treatment of the poor servant girl awoke her own misgivings at her father’s treatment of shy little Mary. None of the planned amusements, not even her friends and family's best attempts could lighten her mood after seeing Randy beaten from the dance hall. Long before the party ended Charlotte had retreated to her chambers and neither her father’s threats nor her aunts whining and other petty manipulations brought her from her chambers and back to her duties as a hostess.

And this time, Mr. Fuller had **** her by ****! Her shoulders and wrists were sore from his **** march and hanging like a piece of meat in the butcher's shop. Charlotte could not even begin to process the wild flood of emotion that swept through her body as she remembered how helpless she had been. His bound captive completely at his mercy as he unbuttoned her dress and ran his hands possessively over her. Anger, desire, guilt and excitement all swirled in a mélange of feelings as she remembered how Mr. Fuller had then carried her to his bed and **** his stiff member into her, using her like a piece of meat for his pleasure. Her inner core was still sore, but not as painful as she would have guessed when she recalled the size of the man's erection, he really had been surprisingly gentle with her considering who he was and how he viewed the Marlton family. Her breasts swelled against her bodice pinching her hard nipples against the lace of her dress at the unwelcome memory; her hands clenched into fists and her boots stomped against the packed dirt of the old road. He had used her and then sent her on her way like a common whore!

He had rejected her! She had submitted to his wild seduction, burned with a fire she had never before experienced as his manhood had again and again pistoned into her sex tearing away her girlish innocence and making her a woman - his woman. Charlotte snorted at that romantic characterization, clearly once he had ruined her for her wedding night Mr. Fuller had no further interested in her gawky long limbed frame narrow hips and small breasts. Deflowering her meant nothing other than one further act of retribution for his sister! As she made her way back to the safety of her father’s estate, she wrestled with the weight of her new status and her discovery of Black Brand's true identity. If she spoke to her father, he could both destroy the highwayman’s hideout and arrest his mother and hold her until he surrendered, but he'd also discover that her hymen had been breached and that would further diminish her value in his eyes.

It was not that Charlotte cared all that much about her father's opinion of her, but his insistence that she be married was growing more and more forceful, and who knew how something like this would weigh into his calculations. Besides, even if Mr. Fuller should be hunted down like a feral dog, his mother deserved none of this. Mrs. Fuller hadn’t deserved to have her daughter first compromised and then banished, she should not have had to lose her, nor did she ask for her son to turn outlaw. Charlotte had to wonder if she could live with herself if she gave up Fuller's secret?

An hour latter she heard the sounds of searchers approaching; any chance of slipping quietly back to her house was clearly out of the question. She could send her father's men to capture Black Brand, but if she did there could be no hiding how Black Brand had used her innocent body, but if she wasn't forthright, how could she explain the lapsed hours and the missing undergarment? As she stood in the old forests trying to come to a decision, Charlotte also found herself wondering what Black Brand was doing at this moment?