Author Topic: They're stirring again ;-) Trouble finds John Coe, and he can't say no.  (Read 88 times)


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Whilst I was pre-occupied with writing a poem every day in April for the NAPO challenge, the prose part of my brain was taking a rest.  But the subconscious never truly sleeps.  This little idea kept niggling at me until I gave in and typed it up quickly so I could get back to the task in hand.

Not sure where it's going yet, but I've already ruled out a few things.

A question for you Ladies.  Would you trust a complete stranger to this extent?



   John was riding faster than the law allowed, 'Exercising the
Norton' late at night along the dark New Forest road between Cadnam and
Lyndhurst.  A gently rolling and open stretch, with a few minor roads
joining it at intervals, access for smaller villages and the odd 'big house'.

   He had it all to himself.

   His headlight bored a bright halogen tunnel through the night
and he was whistling the Doors 'Riders on the Storm'.  Thoroughly
enjoying his solitude, but still looking forward to getting back to

   A pale blur of movement in the roadside bushes grabbed his
attention as he flashed past.  He was braking hard as his mind caught
up with what his eyes told him.  Stopped, foot down, motor still
running, he looked back over his shoulder.

   He wasn't hallucinating.  A naked woman.  A fair-haired naked
woman.  Running frantically towards him, her mouth moving wildly.

   A dark thought crossed his mind.  If she was 'bait' for some
kind of hijack then the people behind it were in for a shock. He
unzipped his riding jacket, just in case, felt the knife harness under
his un-tucked shirt.

   Then she was close enough to hear.

   "Help me!  Please.  Don't let them catch me."

   She reached him, a fairly short wench, but still taller than
his wife.  Several bleeding scratches as if she'd run through brambles,
and bleeding feet.  Terrified grey eyes

   "Whoever you are, please take me away from here.  They're not
far behind."

   "Jump on."  He didn't hesitate, although his eyes searched the
darkness behind her.  A naked pillion with no helmet could attract
far more attention than he normally enjoyed, but he simply couldn't refuse to help a damsel in distress.   He could imagine Frances's raised eyebrow, darkly and silently questioning, hear her laugh.

   As the suspension settled down under her weight she locked her
arms around his waist, leaned in tight, and he could smell her sweat
and fear.  Clicking into gear he rode away fast.

    Being the kind of man he was, he flicked the extra little
switch on the bars which turned off the rear and number plate lights.

   He had no idea what might be happening, who or what was after
her, but why make it easy for them?  The headlight was still a bright
lance, running ahead, but the black Norton was now as anonymous as any
bike could be.  He could see no lights behind them.

   A mile further on, still alone in the darkness, he pulled
over, turned his head to speak.

   "You look a bit obvious back there.  I can't offer you a
helmet, but Frances's one-piece oversuit's in the left hand pannier. 
Might help a bit if we meet a police car."

   "No police!" She jumped off, fumbled at the catch, and then
backed away as he kicked down the stand and moved to help her.

   Terror rolled off her in waves.

    She held one arm across her breasts and the other over her
groin.  Oddly this made her look more vulnerable than she had when
completely exposed, running naked in the red glow of the rear light.

   Taking a deep breath he spoke gently, as if to a frightened
horse or dog.

   "Maid, if I was going to rape you or hurt you,  I'd have done
it by now."

   He draped the one piece coverall across the seat and stepped
back several paces.  She still hesitated so he turned his back and
heard her move forward, heard the rustle of fabric, a few pained
hisses, and then the long rasp of a zip.

   Watching the road behind them he heard a shaky but determined
voice.  "I'm ready now."

   She was a few inches taller than Frances, legs and forearms
sticking out noticeably beyond the cuffs. He straddled the Norton and
waited till she was sat behind him again.

   "Whatever your problem I can offer you sanctuary for the night."

   She stiffened and then relaxed a little  as he continued.  "My
wife will be there, and she can come out to meet you before you decide
whether or not to come in."

   She nodded once.

   "Or she can lend you some clothes and you can wander off into
the night again and do your own thing.  Your choice."

   She shook her head, tightened her arms around his waist, and
he rode on.

   It was late enough for the police to have already caught the
late night drinkers and they slipped through Lyndhurst without seeing
anyone.  A couple of miles later he unlocked the gate to his private
track, rode through, locked it behind them, and rode the bumpy quarter
mile to his home.

    A light came on in the porch, and Frances opened the door.

   John kicked down the stand, swung his left leg up and over the tank, and left his passenger sat on the bike.

   "Frances, there's someone here who needs a woman's reassuring
words before she'll come in."  He lowered his voice.  "She's naked
under the suit."

   She frowned, recognising her riding suit, then smiled.

   "It makes a change from injured animals.  You get the kettle

« Last Edit: May 11, 2022, 11:03:53 AM by Gyppo »