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Kidnapped Cheerleader
by Paablo

I was getting pretty pissed off at my boyfriend! When we first met, about a year ago, he would take me to the finest French restaurants in town, buy me a new piece of jewelry every week, and take me to the Caribbean at least once a month. But lately, it's been fast food, and I can't remember the last time I got something shiny or basked in the warm glow of the Jamaican sun. Hey, if my current beau doesn't start treating me the right way, I think I'll start looking for someone new. But at least he's still good for one thing. And I mean real good. Well, money isn't everything -- is it?

I'm a senior at one of those big state universities. You know, better known as a "football farm" than as an institute of higher learning. And it's not that I can't attract a new fella. Most of the coeds at my school are those "girl-next-door" types. Blonde hair, blue eyes, peaches 'n creme complexion. At 5'11", long, black straight hair that ends at the top of my ass, tempting chocolate brown eyes, and dark complexion I can honestly say that I stand out from the crowd a little. A lot of the guys I've met in my four years here think of me as being pretty exotic. And a couple of those farm boys even think I'm some kind of Amazon. I work hard to keep myself in pretty good shape, considering I'm a phys-ed major. I go for those nice long 'n lean tones. Nothing too muscular. Nothing too masculine.

Well, I finally got the truth out of my boyfriend. And it wasn't good. He was down about five grand to one of the local bookies in town after a couple of bad college football bets. Well, at least he wasn't spending his money on someone else. Since I did have some feelings for him (OK, they were usually in my crotch.) I even offered to find a way to help him get some of his money back. He suggested I get a job. I suggested he shut up and let me do the thinking. I told him to go home, watch the "Friday Night Fights," keep away from his bookie, and wait until he heard from me.

On the drive back to my dorm I racked my brain trying to come up with some kind of idea. Selling drugs? No way. Prostitution? I think not. Hitting the lottery for a mil? Not a chance.

Walking back from the parking lot to my dorm -- I was in a world of my own desperately thinking of a plan -- when I bumped into Jennifer Spencer, our school's head cheerleader. She lived in my dorm and was one of those peaches 'n creme types I told you about before. About 5'4", bright blue eyes, neatly groomed shoulder length blonde hair, and perfect white teeth. And, and I have to admit, she did have a pretty tight little body. Jennifer Spencer -- the "perfect" package. I guess that's why she was dating the quarterback of the football team.

"Hi there," she said, as she greeted me that with that perky little schoolgirl attitude that I couldn't stand. "Are you going to the big game tomorrow," she asked. "It's the last game of the year and it's very important for our school. I hope you can make it."

"I wish I could, Jen -- but I have a life," I replied briskly not wanting to disrupt my train of thought.

"Well, if you change your mind, it's at 3:00 PM at the main field. Stop by and show your support for the ol' blue and white," Jennifer said, totally oblivious to my little remark. Boy, do I hate those bubbly kind of babes. I even remember one time sarcastically asking her if she lived up to the title "head" cheerleader. She just smiled sweetly and replied, "Why of course. I cheer the best and I'm the prettiest, too."

What a ditz.

I sat in my room that night with laboring over a cold cup of coffee; trying to read a book; still stonewalled for a plan. I chuckled to myself about running into Jennifer. She had it all. Mega looks. A pretty famous boyfriend. And that "I can get anything I want just 'cause I'm so darn cute" attitude.

Well, back to my problem. How could I raise some quick cash? I dozed off for about an hour and when I awoke -- it hit me. I guess that little snooze cleared out those cobwebs in my brain. And to think, as I smirked to myself -- the solution to my problem was one floor away!

Since my roommate went home for the weekend, I had the run of our room to gather the necessary "items" for my quickly hatching and sinister scheme. I found a couple of old, white cotton T-shirts and began cutting them. When I finished, I had about ten nice sized strips. "Perfect for the job," I said to myself as I was beginning to get off on my own devious plan.

OK, once I've got her -- what was I going to do with her? I couldn't keep her in her own room. I knew that someone would eventually come looking when "Ms. Head Cheerleader" didn't show up for the big game.

I started rummaging through my roomie's closet. There it was! A sleeping bag. Just the perfect thing to transport my soon-to-be captive up a few flights of stairs to my place.

I went to bed and set my alarm for seven, the next morning. Jennifer had a pretty fixed routine; going to the laundry room at about 9:00 AM and returning about an hour later. That would give me more than enough time to sneak into her place and set my trap.

I tossed and turned in bed going over in my mind how I would get her. Since I had never done anything like this I really didn't know what to expect. I was hoping it would be nice and easy. What if she fought back really hard? What if she got hysterical and woke up the whole building? What would happen if I didn't tie her up tight enough and she got free and ran all the way to the police station?

The next thing I knew, my alarm was ringing. Could it be the next morning, already? Yup. Time to get to work. I got up, showered, and dressed like it was just another Saturday morning. I put on my favorite, tight, white T-shirt; a pair of skimpy, blue jogging shorts; white socks, and sneakers. I pinned that flowing, black hair of mine up into a long French braid so it would be out of the way.

Nine o'clock couldn't come fast enough. At about ten minutes after nine I rolled up the sleeping bag, grabbed my other goodies and went down to Jennifer's room. Good thing I didn't pass anyone on the way. The less people who saw me the better. I even thought to myself, if Jennifer was still home and answered my knock -- I'd tell her I picked up a job selling sleeping bags door-to-door. Yea, right! No one could be that gullible!

It was pretty obvious to tell where I was when I got there. A big pink "smiley face" on the front door and letters underneath that spelled out JENNIFER'S ROOM. Yuk!

I lightly tapped on the door praying no one would answer. After a couple of minutes I knew she wasn't in there. After checking the hall, I slipped a credit card in between the door and the bolt gently receded. In a split second I was inside. I quickly headed to hide in her closet, with sleeping bag in tow, to wait for her return. I kept thinking through my plan; going over all the details in my head. I knew it was too late to turn back now.

Then I heard a key in the door. I kept the closet door slightly ajar so I could watch everything she did, so I'd be ready to strike at the perfect moment. She had her hair in a pony tail and wore one of those snug, horizontally lined, jet black sports halter tops combined with a pair of black, form fitting bicycle pants that stopped an inch or two above her knees. The fluorescent, green stripes down the side of her skin tight pants immediately drew my attention to her well developed thighs. I have to admit that the ensemble highlighted her physique in way I had never noticed.

She eventually got around to coming in the bedroom and getting her neatly arranged accessories ready for her duties at the football game. She gathered them up and headed into the bathroom to take a shower.

She emerged about 20 minutes later fully decked out in her complete cheerleader's outfit. God is she stunning, I thought to myself. She wore a slightly pleated, perfectly ironed blue uniform with white piping around the edges and a big white "S" on her well defined chest. After gazing at her own reflection in the mirror (Her quick nod of the head and a confident smile told me she approved of her appearance.) she went over and sat on the edge of her bed and put on a pair of ribbed, white ankle socks and then slipped into her, blue tasseled, white buckskin shoes.

As the moment of decision drew closer -- I began getting a little too nervous for my own good. I was just about to chicken out when the perfect opportunity presented itself. She laid down on her bed, popped a CD in her machine; donned a pair of headphones, and closed her eyes for a little cat-nap. My, how things can change! She laid there, all mine for the taking, in blissful ignorance of what was about to happen.

I carefully opened the door and crept ever closer to her. Kneeling next to her I reveled in the intoxicatingly clean scent of her freshly showered body. I looked down at her from head to toe admiring her exquisite shape.

Well, here goes nothin' I said to myself as I inched my hand closer to her lips -- making sure to not alert her prematurely. I was getting so close that I could now feel her warm breath on the palm of my hand.

With one swift motion I clamped my hand over her inviting lips -- scaring the life out of her as her eyes popped open with a look of shock and total confusion. I quickly jumped up on top of her, using my knees to pin her shoulders to the bed with the athletic prowess of a pro wrestler going for the three count. She struggled for a few moments but soon realized that the combination of my weight on her body and my strong hand over her mouth was giving me a decided edge.

When she was calm enough to reason with, I looked her straight in the eyes, and said, "Listen Jennifer, we're going on a little trip. If you do exactly as I tell you -- you'll be fine." She meekly nodded her agreement.

With my free hand I reached into my pocket and took of the first of many pieces of white cloth that I'd be using that day. I took my hand away from her mouth and put the strip between her lips and tied the other end around the back of her head. I pulled her hair from underneath the cloth on the sides of her head, then went back and double knotted the cloth very tightly.

"There," I said, "That's a little more natural. We want to see that pretty blonde hair now don't we?" A submissive little grunt told me that she was reluctantly resigned to accepting her silence. The abject fear in those piercing blue eyes of hers told me that I was in total control.

Then I held her firmly by her shoulders and made her sit on the edge of the bed. I started to tie her hands in front but switched to placing them behind her back. I didn't want her to eventually reach up and pull that gag out. I wrapped the cloth around her tightly around wrists; cinching the last few inches through the middle and topping it off with a nice, full knot.

I quickly grabbed some more cloth and tied her ankles and her knees with a methodical precision that I never knew I had. The downcast look on that sweet, virtuous face told me she knew escape was impossible. I had done the deed all too well.

Jerking her head from side to side, as her hair swayed to and fro, Jennifer made a valiant effort to dislodge the gag from her mouth and scream for help.

"M-m-f-f! M-m-f-f! M-m-f-f! M-m-f-f!" was the only sound the blonde beauty could make as she continued to swing her head from side to side like the pendulum on a grandfather clock.

I cupped my slightly trembling hand under her chin, and nose to nose, I said to her, "So far you've been quite cooperative. Keep it up and we'll have no problem."

I went over to the closet and pulled out the sleeping bag. Jennifer realized what I had in mind and started a frantic but rhythmic straining routine in hopes of finding a way out of her predicament. She squirmed in her bondage rubbing her wrists and ankles together in a futile attempt at freedom. I laid the sleeping bag out on the floor, unzipped it, and readied it for my "special" passenger.

I picked her up, placed her down on the bag and slowly zipped her up, watching her body disappear until only her face was left uncovered. I kissed her gently, placing my lips to the smooth skin of her forehead and whispered, "I hope you're not afraid of the dark." Then I zipped the bag shut!

I took a few seconds to check over her place, making sure that it didn't look as if she'd left in too much of a hurry. I wanted everything to look as normal as possible. I even remembered to turn off her CD player. I picked up the bag with her in it, balanced it on my shoulder and proceeded upstairs. I was in sight of my door when who did I see waiting there but lovable old Professor Huxley. Oh God, what did he want? Maybe the door-to-door selling story might have to work on him. He was a nice, gray haired man, in his late '70s and my philosophy teacher. I thought that this might just an unfitting end to my adventure.

"Yes, professor, what can I do for you?" I asked, doing my best to not to let on that I had someone bound and gagged inside the sleeping bag.

I could even hear Jennifer "M-m-m-f-f-f-ing" through her gag trying to attract the professor's attention. My grip on her, though, was tight enough to keep her from moving.

"I just stopped by to drop off that term paper you handed in last week. Since you got an "A+" on it I thought I'd deliver it in person."

"Thanks, Professor. I'd invite you in but I'm going camping," I explained. I was sure that he could hear Jennifer's moans. I was just waiting for him to say something when he looked right at the bag and said, "See you like camping. Great pastime. Did it myself many years ago. Well, I'm off to the electronics store. That damn battery in my hearing aid went dead again and I've got to get a new one."

I bid the good professor farewell, breathed a thankful sigh of relief, and soon had Jennifer inside. I could only imagine how frustrating it must have been for her to be that close to being rescued; yet having her efforts go for naught.

I unzipped the bag, and moved my "guest" over on the sofa. Actually seeing her in my place really made this whole thing come full circle. She was still struggling as best she could, squirming and doing her damnedest to spit out the gag that parted her luscious lips. She looked particularly appealing as her full, young bosom strained invitingly against the close fitting fabric of her uniform's front. Boy, that big white "S" was really standing out.

I checked her bindings and was pleased to see that they were still as tight and unyielding as when I first applied them. And her gag, though it was getting a tad soggy, was holding in place.

I made a fresh pot of coffee, poured a cup, and sat down on the couch next to Jennifer. I motioned for her to put her legs on the far side arm rest and to lay down face up with her head cradled on my lap.

She stared up at me with impassioned doe-like eyes, silently begging for freedom from her bonds. I stroked her fresh, golden hair with a lovingly tender touch doing my best to reassure her that I meant her no harm. We sat in total quiet, two women communicating without words. One totally helpless. One in total control.

"I'm going to make a phone call to your boyfriend. Don't be alarmed at what I might say. It's all part of my plan." I picked up the phone on the end table and dialed a number that I had gotten out of my captive's "private" phone book.

"Hello? You're the quarterback of State's football team? Well, if you ever want to see Jennifer again make sure that you lose tonight's big game. Don't call the police, either. This isn't a joke. Lose the game and your girlfriend gets returned at midnight on Sunday. Proof? OK, I'll give you proof. I'll call you in an hour and give you some proof."

I stared menacingly at Jennifer and said, "Well, I guess we're going to see just how photogenic you are."

I could see her face becoming flushed with embarrassment at the thought of anyone, let alone her boyfriend, seeing her bound and gagged.

I sat her on a barstool in an empty corner of the room (I didn't want anyone to get any clues as to where she was) and pulled out my trusty instant camera.

"Smile," I sarcastically encouraged. "OK, now look scared. We want your boyfriend to know this is for real. Beautiful! Beautiful! The camera loves ya! You make a real good damsel in distress. OK, take five."

What a picture I saw through the camera's viewfinder! There was Jennifer, bound and gagged. Completely helpless. The soft, white cloth bindings and gag contrasted nicely against her velvet-like flesh. Not to mention the look of that sexy cheerleader's outfit.

At that moment a brainstorm popped into my head. I unzipped the back of her uniform then slowly inched her sleeves down her arms -- eventually exposing a wonderful set of breathtaking breasts.

"Let's let your boyfriend see what he's going to be missing for a couple of days." Good thing I was using color film. Her face was rapidly becoming a lovely shade of shameful crimson.

She twisted and turned her upper body in a vain, but increasingly sensuous, attempt to hide her bare, protruding breasts from the all seeing camera lens; let alone my curious glances.

"Yea, Jen," I urged, "Make them babies dance!" as I continued to click away.

After about 15 minutes I had a set of 24 three by five prints. I kept a dozen for myself and sealed the rest in a plain brown envelope. Pretty soon her boyfriend would have all the proof he wanted.

I put my camera away and then led Jennifer over to a chair in the middle of the living room.

"I'm going to tie you up in this chair for safekeeping while I go drop off these photos," I explained as I removed her bindings and gag. "Don't say a word and don't try to make a run for it. You know who's in charge here."

Since I had all of my shades drawn and the windows shut tight, I wanted her to be somewhat comfortable while I was away on my errand. I stated peeling off her cheerleader's outfit, letting it drop to the floor in a pile. Then I removed the her last shred of modesty -- a pair of white cotton panties. She just stood there, with her forearm covering her breasts and her hand, doing what it could, to shield her pussy. But, she was still wearing her shoes and socks; and those were removed next.

I sat her in the chair and secured each wrist to the arm of the chair, and her ankles to the chair legs; making sure that sufficient tightness offered no escape. I gave her a couple sips of water then inserted a fresh, dry cloth gag. Again she tested the ropes for even the slightest chance of "give" but she soon accepted the inevitable. She sat proud and erect, like a haughty princess on her throne.

I turned on the TV and tuned into a rock 'n roll video channel so she'd at least have something to keep her mind occupied while she was alone.

"Hope you like my selection. I'd give you the remote control to play with while I'm gone, but I've seen 'Single White Female.' Hope you understand," I said.

Jennifer looked so incredible, so inviting, and so sexy sitting there that I hated leaving her -- even for one second. The more I looked at her bound and naked body the more aroused I became. I think even Jennifer was beginning to realize that this experience was going far beyond that of my original intentions.

Putting my hands on my knees, and leaning into her with a coquettish stance I cocked my head to the left and planted a firm kiss on her gagged mouth; letting the very tip of my tongue subtly slide back and forth on the cloth between her lips.

I said good-bye, turned off the lights and headed out the door; leaving Jennifer to struggle in vain in the semi-darkness of my living room.

After dropping off the photos across town at a secret location where her boyfriend could pick them up later, I quickly headed back to my place. Just the thought of coming home to see Jennifer naked and trussed in that chair was enough to get my feminine juices flowing.

I entered the apartment, stopped in the doorway leading from my kitchen to the living room and gazed longingly at her reflection in the full length mirror that was propped up next to the TV.

The apartment was rather warm and, through a combination of her own energetic struggles and the heat, delicate beads of glistening sweat artfully dotted her body adding a charming luster to her skin.

I was startled out of my daze by a trickle of warm, sticky fluid running down the inside of my thigh. I knew I had to have her.

I removed my own clothes and moved toward my waiting captive. Seeing my own reflection getting closer in the mirror, Jennifer began struggling and moaning -- at least to prove to me that she still had some fight left in her.

I stood directly behind her and pecked at the soft baby skin of her shoulder making the little hairs on the back of her neck stand at rigid attention. I moved my tongue up to lick the outside of her ear and put my hands move around the of her front to caress her mounds. I massaged them softly and tenderly with an expertise that showed I wanted to please and not hurt. Her nipples became harder and more responsive as I continued to strategically tease them between thumb and forefinger. All the while Jennifer cooed softly through her gag; her resistance slowly giving way to growing passion and lust that was welling up inside us both.

I soon found myself in front and began slowly sucking on her big toe then kissing the soles of her feet. I gingerly worked my lips up her legs; leaving a thin trail of saliva along the way. First the calf. Then the back of the knee. Then the inner thigh. Her pelvis gently shuddered as she realized where my wanting tongue would come to rest. Just as I got to the outer reaches of her delicate, curly blond pubic patch, I switched my oral attentions to her boobs. Kneeling in front of her, my own naked body between her parted legs, I thankfully took Jennifer's boob into my mouth.

I could taste the bitter salt of her sweat cascading through my hungry mouth -- not unlike the first sip of a cold, refreshing Margarita on a hot, August afternoon. I nuzzled and sucked her boobs, non-stop for at least 15 minutes, alternating between the two delicious mounds of soft, creamy flesh.

I was breathing faster than a steam engine when I decided to take a well deserved rest. When I leaned back to savor the moment and admire my bondage handiwork, Jennifer shot a determined "Well, dummy, don't stop now!" look at me. My energy immediately returned.

I lovingly kissed each breast again and positioned my mouth between her legs. I worked my tongue between her quivering pussy lips, enjoying all that she was. My tongue darted in and out of her willing pussy -- making her wetter by the second.

"Oh, sweet Jennifer!" I kept saying to myself.

I glanced up to get a quick look at Jennifer's reaction at having another woman's tongue in her pussy, but her head was tilted back, her eyes were closed, as she voiced her approval with a definitive "Ah-Ah-Ah-Ah," every time my tongue found an unexplored pleasure spot.

As I continued to feast upon her glorious love box, Jennifer began undulating her pelvis, pressing her pussy harder and harder against my face. I did all I could to stay in time with her inexhaustible motions. I could hear her excitedly trying to tell me something through her gag. At first is sounded like, "Meck meve gun! Meck meve gun!"

Then I realized what she was saying.

"Make me come! Make me come!"

I immediately grabbed her by the cheeks of her ass for even extra leverage then buried my tongue deep inside of her; moving it in and out with jackhammer swiftness.

Suddenly, Jennifer's entire body began to spasm, thrashing uncontrollably in the chair. She was breathing hard though her nose; inhaling, then exhaling at a rapid pace. Her screams of terror and fear earlier that day had been transformed into ones of erotic passion and unbridled pleasure. She kept up this routine, for what seemed like an eternity, then her body gave forth one final, ground shaking, climactic spasm. Then she went completely limp not moving a muscle for at least 10 minutes.

I cautiously looked up at her hoping for any sign of life from her exhausted body. First her left eye sheepishly opened -- then her right. They were glazed over and Jennifer looked as if she were a million miles away. Her face shone like a diamond as glints of the late afternoon sun cascaded gently on her angelic face.

I could tell by Jennifer's utterly serene and contented grin that she was totally and completely satisfied.

Now it was my turn.

I sat on Jennifer's lap facing her -- breast to breast and pussy to pussy. I wrapped my legs around her middle; my ankles meeting behind her. Her bound hands held them for support; as she propped her knees under my ass to provide proper balance. I placed my right hand behind her head and drew it closer to me, all the while unfastening the knots to her gag. With her mouth free and unfettered, I gave her a passionate French kiss, my tongue.

She tensed for a moment attempting to draw back slightly and I soon realized the reason for her uneasiness.

"Don't worry darling. Yes, that's your own pussy you can taste in my mouth. I hope it tastes as good to you as it does to me," I explained. She let out an agreeing breath though her nostrils and I continued with my lovemaking.

My left hand found its way down to my own pussy; stroking it with a vigorous circular motion. Jennifer heightened the mounting pleasure by moving her feet up and down, in a right / left cadence, as if she were running in place. My ass bobbed and bounced as a volcano was ready to erupt between my legs.

I was so excited by the whole event that I orgasmed in about in about three minutes while wave after wave of feminine fulfillment enveloped my entire body. It was the most gratifying orgasm I had ever had in my young life. Just like Jennifer, I too went limp, holding her bound body close to mine; my head gently came to rest on her accepting bosom.

I got up and fetched Jennifer another drink of water; took a shower and got dressed. We were so involved in our erotic adventure that we completely forgot to watch the "big" football game. Our school won, but by not enough to cover the spread; so everybody came out a winner.

I patted Jennifer on the head, she was still bound and re-gagged in the chair, and told her, "Don't go anywhere, darling. I'll be back for you later."

I made a bee-line for my boyfriend's house and when I arrived he led me to the kitchen. There on the counter was the biggest pile of 100 and 50 dollar bills I had ever seen!

"Thanks for the tip on the game. I don't know how you knew, but thanks," he said.

"Tell you what," he added as he grabbed a small stack of bills from the huge pile. "I'm going downtown and get straight with those blood sucking bookies. Well, at least I'll have $95,000 left. When I come back, we can celebrate."

I looked at him as he hurried out the front door, and said, "Don't forget to bring back some champagne."


Well, that was six months ago and I'm sitting here, soaking up the sun on this luscious, tropical island. What a life! A Margarita in my left hand as I admire a shiny, new diamond engagement ring on my right hand.

Without warning, a the loving touch of a finger begins to slide it's way up from my knee to my inner thigh. A set of pursed lips move closer to my right ear.

"There's a new French restaurant in town that just opened. Darling, let's eat there tonight. Okay?"

I looked at the left to my lover who was cuddled next to me on a blanket on the beach.

"Sure, Jennifer," I whispered back. "Anything you want."


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