Just a simple damsel in distress story that runs on from 
Cynthia’s summer job. Dedicated to Heather in memory of the 
wonderful summer I spent on her parent’s farm in England and her 
cousin for the unforgettable bike ride. Even if I didn’t quite 
follow what his new cam shaft did, it sounded delightful. 

Oh bye the way red tape first.

Copyrighted Karen Blayne 2001. All copies must be of the 
complete document.

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corrections.

Don't read it if you shouldn't. This tale really is fiction. 

Luv Karen.

Cynthia sat by the open fire reading a light romance awaiting 
Nigel’s return. She’d got changed into a long elegant lawn 
nightdress and had her long legs curled up on the couch. Nigel 
has given a very successful technical presentation a few days 
ago in London and had promised her a week in the country to 
celebrate their engagement before returning back to the States. 
She had a six pack cooling in the fridge awaiting his return. 
They had rented a very picturesque cottage, half timber framed, 
full of character. She hadn’t yet found the thermostat for the 
central air-conditioning, nor the central heating, but she was 
sure she’d work it out in time. All these English light switches 
worked the wrong way, but the English electric kettle boiled 
much faster.

Maggie had lit the open fire for her before leaving saying it 
was a bit chilly this evening and she was sure being Americans 
they’d like a bit of warmth. It seemed strange having some-one 
come in to do the washing up and so forth. It was pleasant 
having a resident cat sleeping on the window sill.

She watched as he stretched, jumped down, stood at the front 
door and turned his head back to look at her. Didn’t she 
understand she was there for his benefit? She got up and 
strolled over to the door. Outside the sun was setting, she 
stepped outside to better admire the view then a gust of wind 
slammed the door to behind her. She tried the door, locked. Why 
hadn’t she remembered the locks were different over here. She 
remembered Maggie saying that they had had some trouble from the 
townies recently so all the windows and doors had had their 
security upgraded. Oh well only an hour or two to wait until 
Nigel returned she’d sit under the porch and watch the swallows.

Twenty minutes later it had started to rain when she heard a 
verichule coming up the lane, she stood and looked to see if 
Nigel was back but only saw an old battered Land Rover which 
pulled over onto the drive.

"Miss Chappell I presume, Major Kettle, live up at the manor 
house don’t you know. Every thing all right I trust or have you 
managed to get yourself locked out? Since your one of my tenants 
we can soon get a spare key from the estate room. Hop in then 
out of the rain. Here you are pull this rug round you to keep 
you warm and make you look more respectable as we pass through 
the village. Keeps the gossip down". "American are you? That 
explains it, I really must change the lock to one you need to 
lock with a key when you go out like the ones you have back 
home. Oh don’t mind the lambs in the back, we’ll drop mother and 
babies off on the way round." Cynthia feeling unthreatened and 
comfortable climbed into the Land Rover and pulled the rug 
around her. "There we are, I’ve put the heater on soon have you 
warm and dry." 

They drove off up the lane and came to a gate half a mile up the 
road. "Won’t be a jiffy, just pop out, open the gate, then drop 
mother and child out over by the oak trees where there is a bit 
of shelter from the rain." He stepped out and opened the gate, 
drove through, then stepped out once more to close the gate. 
Then they drove across a rather muddy field to a bunch of trees 
on the other side. "Mildred is getting a bit long in the tooth 
these days but she still manages to get round and drop the odd 
bale of hay off in remote fields and so forth. Fine old girl." 
He said patting the dash board. "Here we are." He switched off 
and clambered out and let down the tail gate. Mother was lifted 
down first followed by two bleating lambs who dashed over to the 
ewe who was stood under one of the oak trees. The Major slung a 
bale of hay after them and climbed back into the cab. "There 
that’s done now back to the manor house." He turned the key but 
Mildred refused to start. The tank showed empty. "Oops I forgot 
Mildred doesn’t like parking on the slope when the tank isn’t 
very full. Hang on I’ll get the Gerry can out." He got out and 
dug round the back coming up with an empty Gerry can. "Sorry 
about this I think young Helen my daughter must have run out of 
cash and raided the petrol can. I’ll walk back to the manor and 
get the Range Rover out with a spare can of juice. You just stay 
nice and safe here its far to wet and windy for you to come out. 
I’ll be back in twenty minutes or so you’re quite safe here." 
With this he started to walk back across the field towards the 
Manor house.

Cynthia lent back and watched the lambs frolicking and the rain 
falling. It was so peaceful in the country. It was so pleasant 
to get away from the traffic roar that seemed to be everywhere 
in London. Suddenly the peace and quiet was shattered by the 
roar of motorbikes. She sank down in the seat.

"See I told you there was someone stuck down here. Let’s go see 
if they want a hand?" "I’ve always fancied driving one of these 
things through a hedge." "What you drive four wheels? You’re bad 
enough on three." "Come on then let’s try the door and get this 
thing fucking started." "What you mean its locked, put a knife 
through the fucking canvas then and put your bleeding hand 
inside. Stone the bleeding crows don’t you know anything about 
breaking into a soft top Land Rover."

Cynthia cowered back as a knife came through the canvas top on 
the driver’s side followed by a hand, which swung the door open. 
"Bleeding Hell there’s a fucking cow in here." "Let’s have her 
out then and have a look." A knife sliced through the canvas 
close to her head, a leather covered hand thrust through and 
opened the door. Two leather covered arms reached in and scooped 
her up. "Let’s have her out of there, nice and young what’s your 
name love?" "I’m damned if I’ll tell you that." "Fucking hell an 
American. Let’s have that rug off her. That’s fucking better our 
very own American wet tee shirt contest." Cynthia looked down in 
horror and saw how the falling rain was fast rendering her white 
lawn nightdress transparent. She raised her hands to cover 
herself as best she could.

"Don’t she look sweet? Our very own damsel in distress." One 
biker started to undo his belt. "Well if she isn’t at the moment 
she soon will be." "Hang about lads, hang about. This is your 
leader speaking now this here is a lady she deserves better than 
a quick tumble in the mud besides which in this rain I’d get my 
fucking ass wet and I’m not fucking having that. First 
introductions, you’re about to be well and truly fucked by the 
fucking Demons darling. What we’ll do is have a nice little 
competition, a race to Susie’s place then we’ll have her on a 
nice warm double bed. First prize first one in. I’ve got some 
big H in my pocket so she can have a really nice hit before we 
start to get her in the party mood." He leered looking at 
Cynthia. "But we don’t stand a chance the three of us on the 
sidecar." "Well you’d be last in anyway cause I’m not having 
anyone after you three pox laden cretins have had her. Haven’t 
you heard of safe sex? I mean to say Marcus if you think I’m 
dipping my wick in after your gonorrhea and AIDS infected dick 
has been in and would you want to even dip yours in after herpes 
Harry there or genital warts Walter? No you three come last and 
draw straws as to which hole you get each." Cynthia felt faint. 
How could she go back to her darling Nigel after this. God 
wasn’t this the point where in the film he would sweep down with 
his full commanding six foot three height at the head of the 
U.S. Calvary?

"What about them DNA tests they have these days then?" "DNA 
tests don’t you worry about them. We’ll sell her to Ramdom, 
after her taste of big H the first time she’ll like it at 
Ramdom’s. He fuck her himself for two weeks feeding her a dose a 
day then three days without at the end of which she’ll do 
anything for a fix. And she will, have her own nice little crib, 
be a nice little earner she will, 200 quid a day easy at a fiver 
a fuck. After she’s been there a few months they’ll be so much 
sperm inside her they’ll never be able to detect ours was in 
first. You never know once she’s banged up one of his people 
will marry her and take her back to his mud village in 
Afghanistan. Lots of rights for women there my son and she won’t 
even be able to speak the local lingo."

"Nice one. So Marcus gets to go last to infect her then she 
infects hundreds of immigrants. Really nice one. Marcus you fuck 
her up good alright. Five times, cause you only pick up pox once 
in four times. Remember that from school I do." Cynthia was 
feeling really scared now.

"How you going to fucking get her to Susie’s then? First cop car 
you pass with her on the back and no helmet will be a pull over! 
Besides which she’ll die of exposure on a night like this." In 
answer a totally black bike rolled over, the rider opened a 
helmet box on the back. "Right then get it on." The rider then 
held out two balls in the palm of their hand. "Fucking hell, 
great idea she’ll be nice and wet with these inside, Ta mate. 
Put them in cow." Cynthia knew exactly what they were. She’d 
used them once before on a bet at a Christmas party she’d kept 
them in for an hour then fortunately Karen had been there. She’d 
blamed it on the Cherry Brandy but she knew exactly what effect 
they would have. She felt totally shamed as she slipped them 
inside watched with great interest by the bikers. A side pannier 
was opened and over-trousers were passed out, Cynthia donned 
them together with a jacket, boots and gauntlets. The rider 
motioned her on the back. As she sat down she could feel the 
powerful motor’s vibrations between her thighs as the motor 
ticked over, reflected deep inside her pussy.

The bike pulled away with a roar, Cynthia looked over the head 
of the rider and wrapped her arms around his waist clinging on 
for dear life itself. For a moment she had dared think that 
Nigel was riding this iron steed but then she ruled the 
possibility out she was so much taller than the rider. They sped 
across the field and out onto the lane, turned sharp left and 
roared off into the night. It was obvious that this rider meant 
to come in first place. Other members of the pack were roaring 
up behind. They drove down one of the tree lined narrow winding 
lanes, first her left knee would touch the road then her right 
knee as the rider took full advantage of the full width of the 
road cranking the bike over for each bend. She looked behind and 
saw an army of headlights coming along behind. They braked 
sharply, she thought the balls inside were going up into her 
tummy for a moment, then another crank this time to the right. 
The balls inside distracted her and it was with only half her 
mind that she looked ahead, a hump back bridge sign followed by 
a brick wall across the road. Her tummy took off as the bike 
literally took off over the hump back bridge The bike landed and 
they swerved right at the T junction barely missing the brick 
wall ahead. Then she heard the engine screaming once more as 
they roared off into the night. She sort of settled down, arms 
wrapped around the figure ahead, the vibrations deep inside 
distracted her from her thoughts. They slowed down once more 
then turned off the lane. She looked to the side as they passed 
over a wooden footbridge her knees inches from the sides at 
sixty odd miles an hour the wooden railings a blur in the night.

The bike bounced underneath her as she felt it climb. She looked 
down to see they seemed to be climbing a hill in some sort of 
stream bed, the headlight’s beam swinging wildly from left to 
right as they swerved to avoid boulders and trees that lay 
scattered about. Then they crested the hill and cut onto the 
road. She could see the town laid out below the roads picked out 
with street lights sparkling in the night. Then they were 
speeding up again, down the hill brake, round a sharp bend, 
speed up, and another hairpin bend. Another bike came racing up 
alongside. The two bikes swept the full width of the road once 
more, cutting the corners as they descended in formation. As 
they approached one corner her rider braked sharply letting the 
other bike take the lead. They passed the crumpled remains a 
fifty yards further on where he hadn’t made the corner. Soon 
they were passing the 30 mph sign at the entrance to the town. 
They turned left passing between two no entry signs, swerving 
onto the sidewalk scattering pedestrians to avoid a stream of 
cars coming the opposite way up the one way street. They hung a 
left through a shopping precinct, ran down a flight of steps 
then swung right bounced straight across a roundabout barely 
missing a keep left sign as they bounced onto the main road.

Just room for two cars to pass here. She looked ahead to see a 
truck’s tail lights ahead, the bike slowed hovering waiting for 
a break in the traffic, then a roar and they were away. No a 
sharp brake she looked up to see another truck bearing down on 
them, this must be it. She started to think about all the things 
she hadn’t yet done. The bike wobbled slightly and her shoulder 
was bruised as the bike tucked itself under the trailer. Then 
they pulled away once more into the night. She looked back to 
see another motor cycle trailing not that far behind.

Ten minutes later they hit another roundabout and slowed down, 
taking the motorway ramp, then they braked again coming along 
side a white sports car with a long bonnet. The rider leant over 
and thumped the top of the white sports car then took off up the 
motorway. She looked back to see a blue flashing light. There 
were no gaps, she knew all the cars were travelling in a block 
at 70 mph with only a few feet between cars. They merged into 
the traffic, then ran between lanes overtaking the cars as if 
they were stationary. Then they moved out and made their own 
lane just outside the fast lane the road barely two feet wide 
between the crash barrier and the lane markings for the fast 
lane. She looked back again to see cars moving over as a 
motorcycle and flashing light followed them in the fast lane. 
They came off after a few junctions and seemed to slow down the 
urgency gone from the ride as if the blast of speed up the 
motorway was enough. 

As they came through the village barely fast enough to keep the 
bike upright she noticed a blue police panda car pull out and 
tuck in behind them. It escorted them to, could it be her own 
her half timbered cottage? The bike pulled up. She could see 
Nigel standing in the doorway. Cynthia climbed down shaking from 
the back of the bike. She unstrapped her full face helmet and 
put it down on the ground. She held her arms out to Nigel and 
slowly staggered towards him. Nigel ran across and gathered her 
in his arms.

"Evening Lady Helen" the policeman addressed the rider who was 
just taking off her helmet and shaking her shoulder length hair 
out. "Nice evening for a ride then?" "Well yes I thought so, 
just been showing our American tenant a bit of the countryside 
before her boyfriend returned. Come in and I’ll make you two a 
cup of coffee and you can tell me all the gossip." She led them 
inside where they sat down with Cynthia and Nigel. "Actually 
Bert it’s so close to end of shift time for you would you like a 
beer instead?" "If you put that that way your ladyship I daren’t 
refuse." Cynthia jumped up, I’ll get you a nice cold one out of 
the fridge and I’m sure I saw a lemon in the kitchen." "If it’s 
all the same to you mam I’d prefer a nice warm one without added 
fruit. I’ve heard tell that too much of this here fruit and 
vegetables is powerful bad for a man." 

After Lady Helen had served coffee and slipped Alfred a can of 
beer to have later Bert spoke. "Been a powerful lot of accidents 
with some townies on them there motor cycles tonight." "Really I 
didn’t notice anything." "Arh well four or five of em tried to 
take the old hump back bridge at ninety. Foolish that were cause 
they didn’t make it see. Lot of broken bones they left there. 
Then old Mrs. Cummings walked down to the pub and rang up. 
Apparently some idiot tried to take a motorcycle and sidecar 
across her footbridge. By the time she’d had to walk the long 
way round and the ambulance got there all they found was two 
bikes and a motorcycle and sidecar in the river. They have 
divers down there now pulling out bodies. Know what I think, I 
think they be playing follow my leader I do. Stupid game to play 
at the best of times." "Aren’t you forgetting the one who took 
one of the bends too fast? Or the three that rode through the 
shopping precinct? One missed and went through a plate glass 
window. Lucky it were the empty one. Mind you the best of the 
lot were Sergeant Watson. Up on the motorway in his new high-
speed pursuit vehicle he was with policewoman constable Jenkins 
when one of them came and thumped his roof. Keri Jenkins says he 
were right annoyed when the first bike lost him, and him flat 
out at a hundred and twenty five miles per hour but he made up 
for it with the second. Caught him, speeding at a hundred and 
twenty miles an hour, no insurance, wrong type of driving 
license, out of date tax disk and that there hard drug stuff in 
his pocket. Be up before your dad in the morning he will." "And 
there was I thinking you were supposed to promote road safety 
and such." "Well Sergeant Watson was so full of his new motor, 
fastest thing on wheels I reckoned he needed taking down a peg 
or two." "I know Keri was saying to me only last week she wished 
my Uncle Henry hadn’t brought him the thing." "Well when next 
you see the chief constable drop a hint that my old Panda car 
don’t get around as good as it used to. Won’t mind one of them 
new fangled Range Rovers. Useful in the country those be."

"I’ll see what I can do. Now I think you’d better get back on 
patrol and I’d better take my brother’s new bike back to the 
manor house." "Oh his new one is it? Wouldn’t be one of those 
Japanese superbikes that can do a bit faster than Sargent 
Watson’s new high speed whatever it is would it?" "Now Bert 
would I know a thing like that?" "Yes I reckon you might at that 
and I can’t think of anyone who knows the lanes round here quite 
as good as yourself." Bert’s radio crackled. Apparently a couple 
of motorcycles had had a collision in an old streambed could 
Yankee Foxtrot one please go and investigate. "We’ll bid you 
goodnight then Miss and go and sort out a few more townies. The 
cottage hospital will be full by morning I reckon." "Good night 
then Arthur, Bert I’ll speak to Uncle Simon about a new Range 
Rover for you. Save your feet cutting across the fields."

"Do you think they knew". "Of course but would you book the 
chief constable’s niece for speeding? Or your mother’s landlady? 
They’ll be quiet enough. I’m sorry about what happened tonight, 
I felt so awful after I borrowed some petrol from Mildred for my 
mini. We saw the bikes arrive and the only thing we had lying 
around that could cut across the field was Simon’s bike. Then of 
course it was the only way to snatch you away. I was a bit 
afraid you might be scared by my driving unless you were 
distracted hence … Anyway I think you should pop along to bed. 
You can tell your young man all about your adventures. To make 
up perhaps you’d like to visit our local hospital with me in 
morning? Just doing my lady of the manor act. Good Night."

Next morning Helen rolled up in the Rolls. Cynthia was persuaded 
to dress up in a rather elegant silk full-length dress and the 
two went to the local cottage hospital Helen carrying a wicker 
basket over her arm.

Cynthia was quite surprised when Matron met them at the 
entrance. They walked on a tour of inspection, Helen stopping to 
speak to practically all the patients, asking after a grandson 
here, a wife there. Small gifts were left with many, a half 
bottle of scotch here, some pipe tobacco there, the latter was 
frowned on by matron but nothing was said.

Then they arrived at the male orthopaedic ward where they 
stopped and talked to an old man who had broken his leg in the 
first bed. They stepped up to the next bed wherein lay one of 
the injured motorcyclists from the previous night. He blanched 
as he caught sight of Cynthia. Matron described how he had been 
found by the side of the road just beyond the hump back bridge. 
He blanched even more when Helen mentioned to him sweetly, "Oh 
you must be one of the boys who was following me last night." 
"You weren’t, not out ridden by a girl, fucking hell we’ll never 
live it down." "I was and now I must see to your comforts." She 
turned to Matron. "I was talking to Mummy last night and she’s 
going to see that the committee approves the new nurses home. We 
thought to lay the foundation stone in four weeks time if that’s 
convenient?" Matron’s face lit up. "What do you think of our 
young men who arrived last night?" "I am rather displeased with 
them, someone might well have been hurt and I would so hate it 
to be one of the tenants. Do you think they might be better 
served with a little peace and quiet? Perhaps in the old secure 
ward?" "But there’s no television or radio, but yes I think I 
see what you mean." "I thought to ask the Rev. Kingsley to visit 
them each day and lead them in prayer for their souls." "Yes a 
bit of quiet reflection would do them no harm at all. Perhaps 
Nurse Hoskins could look after them, if anyone can save their 
souls I’m sure she could." Matron looked back at the entourage 
at a plump middle aged West Indian lady. "Martha would you mind 
taking these gentlemen in hand? I think a bland diet would be 
best, and no telephone trolley, magazines or anything to get 
them excited. Possibly a little bible reading each day until 
they have fully recovered? I think we have a couple of broken 
femurs so no doubt those patients will be with us for the next 
year or so." "Wot a bleeding wog to tend to us what ‘s wrong wiv 
the blonde bit of crumpet then?" "Certainly Matron, I suspect 
these may well have been the very same who caused me to lose the 
contents of my shopping cart in the precinct. May I use the 
injectable vitamin C on them since I’m sure it will aid their 
recovery and they are looking rather ashen at the moment." "Now 
remember any problems at all just send word up to the manor and 
I’ll have a couple of grooms come down and sort them out. Quite 
upset they were about one of our tenants being put upon". 

Cynthia then turned to a young blonde nurse who had been looking 
after the patients until now. "How is your brother constable 
Bell?" "Very well my lady" she replied with a small curtsey. 
"Perhaps he could take his tape measure out and see if there was 
any evidence of speeding?" "Oh I’m sure he could do that for me" 
with a significant look at the bed of one of the patients. "And 
since he mentioned Sargent Watson found some irregularities in 
one set of papers I’m sure my brother would be interested in 
examining the others." Groans came forth from the beds. Cynthia 
handed the blonde nurse some invitations to the hunt ball for 
the following week just in case any of the nurses wanted to come 
along.

And there gentle reader we must leave our Demons in distress and 
your imagination will have to fill in the blanks. Cynthia of 
course lives happily ever after, spoiled rotten by Nigel.


  
Cynthia in Distress