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Jacqueline

“Jacqueline”
By: Mike Rockett, Jr.


I opened my eyes knowing it was morning but was unable to see the sunlight. Actually I was unsure of how I got in this situation. I searched my memory but my brain was like an obsolete computer. It was slow in searching and what little I could remember seemed to be pulled up in small bytes and printed in dot-matrix form.
My wrists were bound in rope to the bedposts above; my ankles tied the same to the posts at my feet. My eyes were blindfolded. I was violently stripped naked and have been held prisoner in a room with no windows. The bed I was tied to had no pillows, sheets or blankets. As far as I could tell this was the third morning I had been kept like this. I was exhausted and hungry.
Then I heard her coming to the room humming a happy tune of some sort. My blindfold was tight; I could only hear the opening of the door. She walked in and was carrying what sounded like a tray; I hoped it was food. She placed it on a card table in the corner of the room, lighted only by a lamp in another corner.
“Time to wake-up,” she said. I heard her walk to the bed, felt her sit beside me as she gently removed the blindfold. The light, as dim as it was, invaded my pupils. My eyes struggled to adjust. But they had to, I had to see so I could tell what was going on.
I did my best to keep calm, yeah, I was scared as hell. But I tried to not let her see it.
As my eyes adjusted her cherubic countenance came into focus. My captor was definitely female and very attractive at that, but I wasn’t fond of being kidnapped and tied to a bed no matter how hot my captor was.
“Are you hungry?” she asked.
Yeah, lady, I am. I thought.
Her face loomed over mine and with a curled index finger she tucked her hair behind her ear. She looked into my eyes, her face was angelic, her complexion soft. She had dark hair and dark eyes, her lips smiled the smile of a lioness that was about to pounce on it’s prey.
She was looking into me, not at me. She was searching me inside, looking for any signs of fight in me. I tried to bluff her; I tried to glare daggers into her. But, truthfully, the fight had left. As much as I tried to hide it, I was hers, all hers, to do with as she pleased. That was a scary thought.
“One thing left to do before I let you go,” she said as if I was three years old, as if all of this was just a minor inconvenience. She tucked more hair behind her other ear. “I know you are hungry, and I brought you some food.” She stood and walked toward the card table. I was hoping she would bring the tray of food to me, but she stopped mid stride. She slowly turned around. She was wearing a powder blue silk bath robe that stopped mid-thigh. She stood about five foot, seven inches tall with a plush hourglass figure.
She untied the robe and let it fall to the floor. She was naked. I guessed her to be a size sixteen to eighteen. Her breasts were correctly proportioned to her broad shoulders. She was narrow right about where the sand would fall through with round hips. Her thighs were thick and firm, the mound between them was well groomed, the growth kept trim.
“Do you like?”
Had the circumstances been different I would have liked, but all I could think about was a pocket-knife and a T-bone.
She tilted her head and raised her eyebrows. “I bet you don’t.”
She stepped toward me. “I bet you like thin girls, don’t you?”
She sat on the bed. “Yeah, you like boney chicks, I can tell.”
She gripped me and began to stroke up and down gently. “No, you don’t like women with real curves, do you?”
Actually I did, but I wasn’t going to tell her that, maybe she would stop this shit and let me go.
“Have you ever made love to a big girl?” Her hand was slow, her motion was deliberate. It began to become stimulating.
“NO, probably not,” she pursed her lips and furrowed her eyebrows while inhaling. “Poor guy never fucked a big girl. Never knew what you were missing…until now”
She put her mouth on my cock.
My first thought was that this was insane. I’ve been tied up for three days, starving and alone and now she’s blowin’ me! Was this some kind of sick joke? Was this bitch crazy?
My manhood was in total agreement with what she was doing, but my mind was still having trouble with it. She moved her wet, velvety warm mouth slowly up and down my length. But it was when she employed her firm but gentle hand in unison with her mouth that my mind began to change. I closed my eyes and tried to fight it. I told myself that this shouldn’t be enjoyable, yet it was. The more she worked, the more I enjoyed it.
I remember making one last ditch effort at trying to reason with her, she only responded with more sucking and stroking.
Finally I gave in. The familiar burning in my cock told me that I had no other choice. I held my climax for as long as I could but her mouth was too warm, too wet and she was way too good. My body tensed, she could tell what was about to happen. She stopped sucking and stroked me to climax.
It seemed like a blur, but as she cleaned the mess I had made with her robe, I was totally convinced. That’s when everything fell into place. She had me kidnapped, bound to this rotten bed and starved only to make me do what she wanted. Control was obviously her aphrodisiac and she wanted a love slave.
Maybe I was delirious, but I had decided to cooperate.
She tossed the robe to the floor as she said: “You came? Could a big beautiful girl, like me, get you off?” She slipped her hand to that warm, wonderful mound between her legs and rubbed her wet clit. She then brought her hand to my face and forced her fingers in my mouth. “That’s the taste of a plush pussy,” she declared.
I kept a straight face as I sucked her fingers. Yeah, I wanted this hot bitch, but she was going to have to work for it.
“Not convinced yet?” she probed mockingly. She straddled my face and slipped a hand behind my head. She pulled me up between her legs. She commanded me to lick.
I hesitated at first. I told myself not to be too eager. After all, I was still tied up against my consent.
“What’s the matter, too thick, too juicy?” she taunted.
Not in the least, it’s perfect.
“I can feel your warm breath on my clit,” she whispered almost to herself. “Surely you want to lick it.”
She was right, I could smell her. She smelled sweet, moist. I could see her swollen clit. I could stand no more; I smashed my mouth on her, I licked and sucked. “That’s a good boy…” she encouraged me. She was enjoying the hell out of this. She began to moan. She pulled the hair at the crown of my head, grinding into my face. I couldn’t breathe, but I licked and sucked anyway.
Bucking like a bronco she climaxed in my face. Her clit felt swollen in my mouth, I knew she’d be extra sensitive. I licked more, harder. She came a second time, then a third. She fell over backwards, exhausted, chest heaving for breath.
“I misjudged you,” she spat between breaths.
She rolled on top of me, her ass on my chest, mouth back on my cock. She sucked until I thought I would burst. Then she straddled my lap, she slid me in. I held my climax. She rocked back and forth slowly, ever so slowly. I could feel every warm centimeter of her.
“Can you feel that?” she asked. “That’s thick love!”
She rocked faster. She arched her back, held her breath and wrinkled her sexy face. She came again. After a quick moment she rocked furiously, fucking me as if it were her last. As if she was allowed one last conjugal visit before walking the final mile of her life.
Silence.
Arched back, head tossed back, low grunting, and another hard climax.
She fell over and lay her head on my chest, she was out of breath. At that moment I wanted my hands free, I wanted to touch her, run my fingers through her dark, straight hair.
She waited until she caught her breath, then she sat up. Her body glistened, her lap and inner thighs were soaking wet. She tucked hair behind her ears. Without a word she dismounted and straddled me backwards. I slid in effortlessly and with no assistance. Again the same rough riding. Her round ass bounced like Jell-o as I watched my cock slide in and out. I felt that familiar burning, I held it. The burning grew more intense. I tensed as much as I could holding my own climax. She moaned like a bitch in heat. She could tell what I was doing.
At that moment she was lost, and suddenly the tables turned. Yeah, I was the one tied up but she was held captive this time. She wanted me to blow. “Every drop…” she commanded. “Give me every last drop.” I couldn’t hold any longer. My eyes fixated on her luscious ass as I let it go. She groaned in ecstasy as I filled her. Then she kept riding, as if she was savoring the last drop of a roller coaster ride.
“My turn,” she said. Then she bent over, grabbed my legs and bounced up and down, furiously.
“You love thick girls, don’t you?” she said as she bounced. “Yes you do!”
Her words and her round ass bouncing like a basketball at recess kept me erect. I began to peak a third time, she could feel it. She announced yet another climax of her own. It would be her last. She stopped bouncing and ground her mound into me, it was almost painful.
She arched her back, held her breath and came as I followed suit. She fell over in a heap. After several moments she rolled over, still heaving for air. She pointed a big toe and brought it to my lips. I sucked it hungrily. I could have ate her, I could have chewed her up and consumed her and I would have never been hungry again.
I fell asleep.

It was several hours later that this angelic creature with devilish tendencies woke me up. She kissed my lips softly. “You’re free,” she said. She cut me loose. She fed me. She led me to a shower, she gave me new clothes and handed me an envelope before she let me go out the front door. There was ten thousand dollars inside.
“Didn’t know I was for sale.”
She smiled a crooked smile that turned me on. It was soft and sinister and it made me want to stay. She lulled me with her brown eyes and dark hair flipped to one side.
Yeah, I needed the money but I wanted her more. I offered the envelope back.
She kissed me, deeply. Then she pushed me out the door. She smiled one last time; I burned it into my memory because I knew that I’d never see her again.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“The only name I’ll give you is: ‘Jacqueline.’”
She shut the door.



End of Story