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Kidnapped Cheerleader(f/f,b/d,n/c), Part One
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Kidnapped Cheerleader
by Tasha106
Part 1 of 4
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 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.
End of part one.
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