The Abduction! Day Three
It’s the third day of her captivity, and she feels drawn to her captor. What will happen?
During my six months here in Africa, I always slept in an air-conditioned room. Well, that is until now. The summer heat in Angola was repressive at the best of times, but this week it seemed fiercer than ever.
I awoke that morning in a terrible, dishevelled, sweaty mess. I couldn’t decipher if my dream the night before was a nightmare or a wet dream. I found myself with my nightdress drawn up above my navel with my pussy exposed. I quickly checked myself in case any foul play had occurred but thankfully not. But the mattress beneath me had a moist, sticky patch, no doubt from my night-time arousal.
I wasn’t sure if I should be embarrassed or not. In my current circumstances, it was of no concern to me. I noticed that my captor was still asleep in the adjoining bed. He seemed a peaceful sleeper with only the shallow rise and fall of his chest as he breathed in and out.
Looking across, I noticed something else about him. As he slept on his back, I saw an unusual indentation rising from the sheet that covered him. I gasped in amazement when I realised what it was. It had to be his cock, but how tall and strong it appeared as it pushed its way into the sheet driving it skyward.
I knew it was customary for healthy, virile men to have erections in the morning, but nothing like this. A few lady friends at home had teased me about African men, how if I went black, I would never go back all that type of thing. But I thought it was all a myth. In my time here, I hadn’t been close to any men or certainly attracted either until maybe now.
I lay there mesmerised by its sheer magnitude and size. It seemed like the black poles I had seen the other day, but this one seemed more regal and far less threatening. I felt the heat returning to my pussy as I couldn’t help but stare at his pulsing erection. I wanted to reach across and touch it, but I knew I couldn’t.
Everything about my body that morning craved sex, from my mouth to my breasts, whose erect pink nipples yearned for a hungry mouth and to my wet throbbing cunt that needed violation in every possible way imaginable. Was this all a reaction to my abduction? Did my captivity trigger an enate sexual thirst within me? Because this fire inside me was animalistic and required quenching one way or another.
I fought ever so hard to settle my mind and cast my gaze away from his morning glory. I may have looked like a dog tied up, but I didn’t need to act like one. Turning myself to face the wall, I tried to think of happier days and pray for days better still to come.
Later that morning, I heard the twisting yawning and stretching as the man with the giant erection woke from his night’s sleep. I made sure all that was visible of me was my round white ass underneath my night dress. I guess two could play that teasing game.
He seemed to disappear for what felt like an age. But when he returned, he came with a platter filled with an exotic range of local fruits. From berries to Mangos, from peaches to Bananas. Piece by piece, he hand-fed me until I could eat no more.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying this food; we want to return you in a healthy condition, not half-starved and abused.”
I had no answer to this. I didn’t know if I should be grateful or not. I managed a grateful smile which returned me a similarly warm smile. His smile was delightful, genuine and not forced. The type of smile that shone a light on his soul.
“I think we must get you washed and in clean, fresh clothing.” He said as he tied a blindfold around my eyes.
He picked me up from my musty mattress and marched me outside into the bright sun. There was something extraordinary to being outside despite not seeing anything. The noises that surrounded me painted vivid pictures in my mind. Soon we were inside again, and I felt him remove my nightdress.
“Don’t worry. I will wash your body from head to toe. I will cause no harm.”
Blindfolded, handcuffed and stripped naked by a strange man, I felt frightened again. But the lukewarm water that he poured over my head calmed and refreshed me. Soon I felt his strong hands touching my body as he scrubbed and lathered me with a pure-scented soap. I can’t describe the sensations of his strokes as he massaged and washed me in equal terms.
His hands caressed my breasts and ass in a sexual yet non-threatening way. I could feel his taut body next to mine, but again because of my blindfold, I could only guess his state and proximity. These touches and strokes caused me to leave out soft moaning as my arousal rose. Then I felt his soapy hand wash and press against my clitoris as my moaning sharpened. He continued to wash me there, but his finger did not slip inside though I longed for him to do so.
More water came cascading over me as he rinsed and then dried me in the blazing sun. He then dressed me in a fresh nightdress and returned me clean and new to my bed.
As he cuffed me and untied my blindfold, I stared starry-eyed at him, waiting for his eye contact. When his face eventually met mine, I smiled and thanked him. I told him he made a scared and lonely woman feel human again. He took my gratitude softly, and with a certain degree of propriety, he gave me a somewhat stoic smile.
Soon he left me alone again to lie in my bed. He was, if anything, a professional at what he did. Despite optimal opportunities to take advantage of my vulnerable state, he had withstood the temptation. To me, this made him even more desirable, and now I needed to have him. I only required a way of breaking his resistance. It would have to wait for another day.
