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Crime was my bread and butter, but I had never experienced it firsthand. No one had even picked my pocket before, I had always been safe and sheltered from the bad side of human existence. I was protected from the criminals I represented by burglar alarms and neighbourhood watch. I really, really couldn’t complain.

But this all seemed a little ironic as I lay there, eyes covered by a tight blindfold, hands and feet tied outstretched and mouth stifled by a gag that was taped mercilessly to my face. I was flat on my back and couldn’t move, speak or see. It was a situation I couldn’t have seen coming if I’d been psychic. I’d never been so powerless in my life. I just didn’t know why I was there or what was to happen now I was.

I was frightened, of course, but after being there a while, with nothing going on, that fear bubbled under the thoughts running through my mind. As a kind of protection, my lawyer’s brain analysed every fact at my disposal. The present circumstances explained nothing to me. I could feel that my wrists were bound in soft rope, I could smell a slight hint of feminine perfume in the air, I could hear a low hum of distant traffic. I was still in the city: I could assume that much from the sound, but my other senses told me nothing. The only explanation for my containment here had to be in some detail from the past.

“Shhh,” came a low whisper. Without sight, my hearing had grown more sensitive than usual.

“What’re we supposed to do with him?” another voice. Both female, both quite young. Creeping slowly closer towards me.


“He’s not going to identify us from our voices.”

“No, I suppose not.”

“So what should we do?”


“No – what’re we going to do with him?”

“Him? Well, you can do whatever you like with him. I’m going down to check the news.”

“Really? Anything at all?”

The voice that seemed to have a more authoritative edge to it had gone. Was I now alone? Was I with one of them? Were they going to hurt me? I really couldn’t tell. As far as I knew, I had never really done anything wrong in my twenty-five years. Certainly nothing to provoke a punishment like this. So what was it for? A ransom? I wasn’t of particularly rich parentage, so they wouldn’t get anything there. Who, then, would even pay a ransom for me?

“You’re all mine, now.” Her voice came out of the air suddenly, close to my right ear, causing me to involuntarily flinch. It wasn’t a frightening voice: it seemed so young – no older than a college student. Having never been kidnapped before, however, I wasn’t to know whether that was a good sign or not. There had been young murderers before.

Whoever she was, I could smell her perfume so I knew she was very close. She smelled wonderful – despite the danger I was in, I actually felt I wanted her near, just so I could breathe her in. Suddenly, I felt contact, and I flinched from the surprise.

“Mmmm,” she said softly, rubbing her nose along my cheek. “You’re a fine one. Quite a catch.”

The mixture of fear and arousal was exquisite. I wriggled and pulled at my bonds. They held very firm.

“No, no, no,” she chided me, “that won’t do any good. I’ve got you and there’s nothing you can do about it.” She pressed her face against my cheek, I felt her hot, velvety skin on mine and heard a sharp intake of breath, as though she was smelling me.

“Mmm,” once again, she moaned a little. “Delicious.” I felt a hand close over my throat, squeezing me slightly. Was I going to get strangled?

“You know,” she whispered, her hot breath dancing on my ear, “it makes me wet between my legs to know I can do whatever I want with you.”

I couldn’t help it: my cock responded to her soft words. I felt her hand drift down over my neck and across my shirt-covered chest. It came to a halt over my crotch, falling around my hardening erection.

“Mmm,” she moaned again, “who’s a big boy, then?” I felt her trailing her face down my body, rubbing her lips and nose over my chest and stomach to bury herself in my crotch, where she stroked my rigid cock with her cheek and nose – I could feel the wonderful sensation through the thin material of my suit pants. “You smell nice, lawyer,” she said. “And you have a nice cock. I think I’d like to see more of it.”

I felt her fumble at my fly, pulling by belt open and popping the buttons. She pulled my pants and boxers down in a single effort, pushing them over my thighs and down to my ankles. A chill breeze enveloped my naked crotch.

“Mr Lawyer!” she cried, “you’re pretty pleased to see me!”

My cock quivered as her warm breath danced across its rigid length. I felt contact: her soft cheek against my shaft. She seemed to like the friction as she stroked her face gently over it. Now I felt her hands sweeping up my thighs to clasp hold of my privates. She peeled down my foreskin and kissed the top of my penis.

“Mmm,” she said again, “you taste good, Mr Lawyer. Nice clean cock with a hint of cream soda.” sariyer escort She whispered in my ear again, “I like your cum, Mr Lawyer. It’s soft and creamy. And you know what? I want some more.”

Suddenly, my cock was engulfed in hot wetness. I felt her rough tongue swirling around my shaft as she sucked me, squeezing the base of my manhood while she took me I her mouth. I was in heaven. I was taken to the bring of release, but then just as quickly as it started, she broke off. I heard a door open behind me.

“It’s on the news.” It was the other one, the one that sounded like the leader.

“Do they have any leads?” That was my cock teaser.

“No, I don’t think so. How’s our lawyer friend?”

“He’s very tasty – you’ll love him.”

There was a pause as the stern one presumably looked me over. “Hmm, yes,” she said after a while, “he’s a nice-looking size. I think we can remove his gag. No one’s going to hear him from here, and besides, he’s going to need feeding and watering soon.”

I felt a cold steel knife slide under my gag. I was calm, despite the proximity of the sharp blade. I actually trusted my captors, and craved their touch. A quick tug on my binding, and the gag fell away. The cool breeze fell across my mouth, and I stretched my jaw muscles to rid myself of the memory of the restriction.

“Did you like that, Mr Lawyer?” my spitfire whispered into my right ear.

“Yes,” I replied in a whisper. “Please.”

“I’m going to leave you with my partner now, but I’ll be back, mark my words.”

I heard her whisper something to her partner, and then she was gone, the door closing behind her. I heard someone removing clothing, the soft noise of garments rubbing against flesh as they were taken off. Was she stripping completely? What kind of treatment was I in for? My answer came quickly. I felt a pair of hands grab hold of my softening cock, and I was again hard within a heart beat or two. I felt a delicate finger touch the very top of my penis, with the tell-tale lack of abrasion that came with the presence of pre-cum on my helmet. I heard her tasting her own finger, sucking in my taste.

“You know, she’s right. You do taste fine, lawyer,” she said, her voice sterner than my spitfire’s. She climbed aboard me, sitting astride my chest. I felt her nudity against me and my penis quivered with desire. Her athletic thighs squeezed my torso, her hands perched on my shoulders, and her hot, soaking pussy slithered against my stomach.

“Now you get to taste me.”

She moved up my body, and I smelled her odour getting stronger and stronger as her pussy moved closer and closer to my face. Then it was all around me, hot flesh pressing in from all sides, locking my head in place as her dripping vagina slotted into place over my lips. She had hooked her calves under my shoulders, and was now in the ideal position to grind her sex onto my face.

I felt her shudder the first time my tongue breached my lips and tentatively touched her inner pussy lips. Slowly, I opened my mouth wider and wider until her tangy labia were in full contact with my tongue, my lips, my hot mouth. She brushed her clitoris softly against my top lip as my tongue tangoed with her slick folds. I could hear her heart beat as her thighs pressed against my ears, and she built up into a considerable orgasm, pressing her weight down on my chin. I soaked up her juices with my tongue, but a trickle or two escaped my lips, flowing between my cheeks and her burning flesh. Her body shuddered as the feelings overcame her, her vagina gushing forth into my eager mouth.

Then I was released again.

“He performs well, no?” My spitfire was back. How much had she witnessed? Everything?

“He is good. He will need the bathroom, I think.” “Take off his binding.” She said to me, “Mr Lawyer, I have a revolver trained on your feet. You try anything stupid, I will shoot pieces from your body. Understand?”

“Yes,” I said, my mouth still full of her partner-in-crime’s juices.

The stern woman climbed off me and set about unfastening the cords at my wrists and ankles. I was free, and yet just as confined. She tied my wrists together as some form of protection. I was led some yards across a carpeted floor. I felt the transition into a bathroom, with cold shiny tiling underfoot.

“Sit.” I was ordered. I did so, perching onto a toilet. “Now do what you have to.”

I found it very difficult with two pairs of female eyes, but my bladder was fairly full, so I managed to perform. I stood up once finished and was stripped fully, then guided into a shower while the toilet was flushed. The water came down on me: ice cold to start with, chilling me to the bone, then warming to a comforting temperature. And from somewhere else in the building, a telephone rang.

The stern woman, who had begun to wash me, suddenly left my side, telling her partner, “You deal with him.”

I stood there, the hot water cascading over my body. A few moments after this, eskort and my spitfire was in there with me, her naked skin against mine. My penis resumed its rigidity, and I felt her pressing my body against the cold tiled wall.

“Who are you?” I asked as my cock pressed against her soft stomach.

“Just a nice girl from law school,” she said, grabbing my manhood and pulling it down between her legs, “who can’t afford the fees.”

“You could have got a loan,” I said, feeling myself sinking slowly inside her.

“But this way’s easier,” she giggled, “why not get our industry to pay for our way into it? Pluck a healthy young Harvard graduate from his prestigious law firm and get them to fork out for him?”

“When are you going to let me go?” I felt myself sinking into her as the water from the shower soaked into my blindfold – her pussy was already very wet and I just glided in.

“When we get some cash.”

“What happens if they don’t pay?”

“They will.” The muscles inside her vagina tensed and relaxed, squeezing my solid shaft within. “There’s no way for them to tell where you are. We have the upper hand.”

“So what are you going to do with me in the mean time?”

Slowly, she began to gyrate her hips, my solid column shifting within her tight, hot vagina, “in the mean time.” she sighed, “I’ll take advantage of the good choice of kidnap victim that we made.”

She pushed me to the wall, pulling me down slightly so she could get more of my cock within her. I sank deep as she thrust herself upon me, holding me with her hands on my behind. After my previous treatment, it wasn’t long until I came, pumping thick semen into her depths.

“You feel nice inside me, Mr. Lawyer,” she breathed into my ear.

“You feel wonderful around me, Ms. Law Student,” I replied similarly, “why won’t you let me touch you?”

She said nothing in reply. We stood for a minute, my softening penis still within her. Then , slowly, she withdrew, and took a bar of soap to wash my skin. She rubbed me everywhere, cleaning away the day’s grime with those tantalizingly delicate fingers, paying special attention to my penis, my scrotum and underneath to my anus, which she teased with her digit as she rinsed off the soap.

“There,” she said, “clean as a whistle.” I was dried with a rough towel, and felt my cock springing up again. “My, you are keen,” she giggled again. “But it’s time for some food first.”

I was not re-clothed, but that did not bother me. It was not too cold in that room. I was made to sit down, and I found myself collapsing onto a soft couch. Very cosy. They fed me cheese pizza, during which the two of them discussed our situation. It seemed that my law firm was going against police wishes and was coming up with a ransom. It wouldn’t be long now.

After my feed, I was once again led to the bed, and shackled as I had been before, but without that gag. They felt I could be trusted now – how better to treat your kidnap victim, after all? And I knew I wouldn’t be screaming the house down. I only wondered how I could possibly keep my sweet young cock teasing spitfire after this was all over.

“I have to go and pick up the money,” said the stern one after I was once more confined to my quarters.

“Be careful,” my spitfire replied.

“If I’m not back within two hours,” she warned, “then for God’s sake get out of here, I’ve been caught, okay? There’s nothing in my house to connect you with any of it. No use both of us going down for it.”

“You’re sure?”

“Absolutely. When you get to be a top class lawyer, you can just help out a lowly ex-con from time to time.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, “it’ll go to plan.”

I heard them leaving, discussing what they were going to do. The door closed again, and I was left alone for a long while.

“How’s my handsome lawyer?” she awakened me from my light siesta. “Do you know how wet you make me?” she whispered into my ear, making my cock almost leap with need. She held a finger up to my nose, and I caught her musky scent of her moisture. “Do you want some more?”

“Let me taste you,” I pleaded.

“Very well,” I heard her move away, and then she climbed onto me. I felt that she was facing towards my head, and there wasn’t a stitch on her. She shifted her position and I felt her soft pussy gently land on my mouth. The smoothness of her soaking shaven slit just seemed to blend with my lips, as a soft sprinkling of downy hair tickled my nose. Like a thirsty hound, I lapped at her labia, squeezing my tongue between them to delve into her succulent vagina. She tasted sweeter than I remembered her stern friend to be. Her perfume, a creamy fragrance, blended with the scent of her arousal to turn me on more than any aroma I’d ever experienced. I couldn’t help it: I was addicted. Her thighs did not grip my head quite as forcefully as her partner in crime had done, so my ears were open to sounds other than her heart beat. I could hear her clearly enjoying beyoglu escort the texture of my tonguing.

“You blow my mind, lawyer,” she sighed. I took it as a cue to up the tempo of my tongue as it tangoed with her tender pussy lips. But she suddenly shifted, turning her body over me. Once again, I felt her pussy grind down onto my mouth, but this time the other way up. My nose and face wedged in between her soft clean butt cheeks, and I resumed my feasting of her free flowing juices.

I felt her hands close over my shaft, and it wasn’t long before she was playing an air on my hornpipe. I found her clitoris with my lips and tongue, and as I felt her begin to really go at my cock, I flicked the tip of my tongue under the hood of her button, feeling the orgasm surging through both of us. Rivulets of her juices poured down my chin as she shuddered to climax, with me simultaneously giving in to those extraordinary sensations to empty myself into her hot mouth.

She sucked down my emissions like a woman possessed, then remained on top of me a while, as we both caught our breaths. She washed my cock with her mouth as it shrank and softened, and I gently cleaned up her pussy, licking up all the moisture from her soft folds. When she eventually removed herself from my body, my senses were all on fire.

“Did you enjoy that, Mr Lawyer?” she whispered into my ear.

“You taste divine,” I replied.

I felt her dive onto my mouth, her lips locking with mine, her hands holding my head. Our tongues danced – despite the treatment I had received previously, this kiss was the most intimate moment yet. It actually seemed as though she felt something for me. There was a connection between us that transcended the professional level of kidnapper and captive. I had heard of it – as a lawyer I had come upon a few strange cases. Stockholm Syndrome, it was called. Former kidnap victims refused to testify against their captors out of pure blind love. Now, for the first time, I understood.

“I…I don’t know what came over me.” she said breathlessly once she had broken away from me.

“Let me see you,” I begged.

“No.” her confidence as a kidnapper seemed to have departed. “No…I couldn’t.”

“Just a glimpse.” I pleaded, “I wouldn’t tell a soul.”

“You’d give me away.”

“I wouldn’t…I…I love you.”

There. I said it.

I shocked even myself – so what she must have felt I couldn’t imagine. There was only silence until the door closed. I was alone. My heart was beating like a military drum. I had never before declared my love, especially not to someone I had only been with for a matter of hours, someone of whom I hadn’t even seen a glimpse.

And yet for some strange and inexplicable reason, I had never felt so right feeling the way I did. I did love her, I wanted her, I needed her. But how could I get her? It was quite awhile I spent there alone. I must have drifted off to sleep, a sleep filled with swirling imagery, dreams blending with reality, my captors making love to me, my parents upset at my loss, my cock teaser untying my bonds.

I awoke and found that I was lying in a fetal position on the bed, curled up like a kitten in front of a blazing fire. I was entirely free to move, but though my hands were free, I did not remove my blindfold that still kept me in the dark.

“Are you there?” I asked, hoping desperately that she was. There was just silence for a while, and my heart sank. But then, softly, she spoke.

“That was cruel,” she said, the hurt showing in her voice.

“What was cruel?” I asked, disorientated. I got up, moving to sit on the edge of the bed to face in her direction.

“What you said.”

“I spoke nothing but the truth. I would do nothing to hurt you. Ever.”

“How could you possibly have.feelings for me,” she said, “you’re a cruel man to play with my affections like that.”

“Love can be cruel,” I admitted. “Come here. Please.”

I waited, wondering whether she would come to me, or whether she would simply run out of the door and out of my lonely life. Then she was there, in my arms. She was now fully dressed, I felt a tight pair of jeans and a t-shirt around her fabulous figure. I held her to me close, pressing my face to her body, willing everything to be all right. She put her arms around my head, and everything seemed perfect – she was all around me, her softness, her warmth, her sweet fragrance. I stood up, using my hands to gently sense out her body. She was quite petite, with slender, soft curves, wonderfully soft skin and silky hair down to her waist. She reached up to my face and gently removed my blindfold.

The light was startling, and so was she. Long blonde hair, and large doe-like chestnut brown eyes staring out from an uncertain but breathtakingly sweet face. About five years my junior, I’d say, the kind of girl who inspired men to great things – or folly.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked softly, strange innocence in those uncertain eyes.

“Because I love you,” I said, “and I need you more than anyone I’ve ever met or ever will meet.”

“But I kidnapped you.”

“And I thank my lucky stars that you did,” I said, kissing her again softly on her lips. She responded, then drew away.

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