The Vacationing D.A. and Her Sentenced

[wetfear]

Kicking the at the wheel of the damn Jaguar, I feel the rage crawl up my spine like a snake. The first time I try to take a vacation by myself and look at what happens! The silver Jaguar sits on the side of the lonesome Mexico highway, sun glimmering off it's paint. Looking down the deserted road, I place a hand on my hip over the white sundress I wear. "Of all the places...." Suddenly, I wish to hell that I had flown rather than driven to Mexico. However, having had a case of the 'I can do anything, I'm a judge' attitude, I had decided to take my car alone and drive there. Of course it had helped convince me to drive too because I was terrified of flying. But what now?

Though I had heard terror stories of things happening to Americans stranded out on the Mexican highways, I wasn't too afraid yet. Leaving my hood up, I move around to the driver's side, sitting down on the seat and leaning over to reach on the passenger's floorboard for my purse, allowing my left leg to stick out of the door. Grabbing my cell phone, I hit redial, knowing that my service still won't be available, but trying anyway.

(Hoping that a male will help me with this one. The story would go along something like this.....stranded out on the highway, I am only too thrilled to find an American stop to aid me. A handsome one at that. Though I don't know that he was a man that I had put away three years ago for serial raping. I don't notice his shaven face and now blonde hair, nor do I know that he's just recently escaped prison. But he knows me and plans to take his time with me. A game to him. A nightmare for me.)

 

[Whit00EK]

The Jaguar sat there like a silver turtle trying to make the decision to cross the road or stay where it is safe. I slowed as I approached and watched the woman reach inside the car for something on the seat. It would have been impossible for me not to notice the lines of her ass and legs as she leaned in, even had I been a blind man. She was truly attractive, even from this distance. She was not dressed for the Mexican heat, though, I will say that. The Jag most certainly was air-conditioned because she was wearing dark tan linen slacks and a short bolero-type jacket of the same material and color over what appeared to be a gold scoop-neck top. I could tell from the license plates that she was a norteamericano, here on vaction? business? But to drive a beautiful car such as this Jaguar on these back-country roads near Guadalajara was almost a sin. I shook my head as I pulled up behind her and stepped out of the car.

I approached slowly, watching her make an attempt to revive a probably-dead cell phone. I smiled thinking that she and I were here alone, and she had no idea what sort of trouble she might be facing with me. She was most certainly not aware that the road has now been closed behind us and there will be no traffic through here for the next five or six days until the crews can repair the washout some five miles back. And Mexican road crews are notorious for their 'manana' attitudes about finishing a job.

All these thoughts course through my mind as I walk the few steps to her car. It has been a long time since I have tasted the salty flesh of a white woman. I have been here in Mexico for some two years now after having escaped from a prison hospital back in the States. My crime was in getting caught. I only did what I did because those women asked for it. Every one of them was a whore. Every one of them wanted my cock. Every one of them teased me and put themselves in the position. I only gave them what they wanted. And I was put away for a long, long time for it. That was not the way it was supposed to be. I haven't forgotten the bitch who did it, either. Goddamned assistant DA back there, thought she was hot shit. Slammed me into a hole in the wall and smiled when she heard the gate clang shut behind me. Someday I am going to find her ass and make her pay for that.

But for now, I needed to calm my nerves and clear my mind. This woman on the highway is something like an answered prayer. I am already tired of the little dark-skinned, black-haired pussies that call themselves women down here. I have had enough of them for a lifetime. I need a white woman like I used to have back in the States whenever I wanted one. And, quite possibly, this woman would be my next satisfaction.

She stood up as she noticed my car approach and pull to the side of the road. She looked my way with a bit of apprehension, but my clean-cut looks and the fact that I am quite a bit older and dressed in an Armani tropical-weight blazer and slacks, must have relaxed her, bitch that she is.
I smiled my very best smile, on a darkly tanned face -- I used to have a beard and very long hair, but found it was too easily identified by those women -- and extended my hand to her. "Hello, my name is Edward. I could not help but notice your plight and thought one gringo ought to help another." And I laughed my most polite laugh.

She took a step toward me, those incredibly long legs stretching out to reveal beautiful feet encased in the most gorgeous Gucci sandals I shall ever remember seeing. And I jerked my head back as if an electric shock had struck me between the eyes. I looked directly at her face as I took her hand. She smiled into my eyes and I knew her. I knew this bitch! This was the cunt who put me away so long ago! Ah, there IS a God! I have been given my chance at revenge.
She is much more beautiful than I had ever noticed while sitting in my chair in that damned courtroom so long ago. I remember watching her legs, though, back then. I remembered her calves were incredibly well-developed and her feet....ahhhh, her feet......they were absolutely beautiful when she slipped off her pumps to stretch them or to scratch an arch against the other foot. And this is how I knew her. I never forget a woman's foot! Her hair is longer now. Her eyes are the same incredible green that I saw when she leaned over the table to call me a "serial rapist who ought to be put into a box and locked away from society for his entire life" back there in that courtroom.

Today has turned out to be a very propitious moment for me. I am about to turn the tables on this lawyer-bitch who put me in a cage. I cannot help but smile....smile at my already-forming plans...smile at her total lack of recognition of me.....smile at the thought of tearing those expensive clothes from her body and seeing what else she has that might be as beautiful as her feet.....and I say to her, "Well, let's see what the problem might be." And I walk to the front of the car, motioning her to follow.

OOC: I am perfectly delighted with the scenario, Wetfear, and do hope I am moving along in the direction you may have wished. Also, I would honestly hope that this could be a two-person dalliance for at least a while......is that possible, loyal readers? Thank you, Wetfear, for beginning something new and original here. I do hope we can continue to some sort of "resolution".......Edward

 

[wetfear]

Frantically I continue pressing in numbers on the cell phone to no avail. The lit up message across the the phone returns to say that I am currently out of service area. Not only that, but now the low battery indicator light is flashing. In anger, I throw the phone down onto the seat and moan, letting my head fall back onto the headrest as I close my eyes. Why me?

That's when I hear the approaching car. Panicked, I turn around in my seat to view what exactly and who exactly the newcomer is. Being an assistant District Attorney, I am all too aware of the evil that people do and I, myself, refuse to be a victim. More than that, I never could be a victim. Things like that just didn't happen to women like me. Besides, because of my status, I've become a wonderful judge of character and can spot a criminal miles away. Of course, another thing that backs my confidence, is the handgun nestled inside my purse. I had bought the peice several years ago when there was a serial rapist in our city, taking the required gun handling courses and all. Even though I had earned my certificate, in alright honesty, I still wasn't all that comfortable with handling it and had scarecly picked it up since. In any event, it was here with me and would provide any low-life a reconsideration if preying on me.

Carefully, so as not to be seen, I slipped the gun out of my purse and pushed it under my seat before stepping out, just in case. As I step out, I am only reminded of the immense temperature here as the sun's rays beam down on the tops of my feet. The sandals provide poor cover and I can literally feel the hot air rising up and off the asphalt of the road. Reaching back with one hand, I lift up my long brown hair from my neck, temporarily feeling the air contact the small beads of perspiration there before letting it fall back against my skin. My eyes lock with the man stepping out of the vehicle and immediate relief waves over me.

He appears to be an American, dressed in expensive clothing and very clean cut. Not to mention his blonde hair is a dead give away. Noting from his dark tan, he's obviously been here in Mexico for a while and would most probably be refreshed seeing an American here as well. His movements display confidence and his build is incredible. As he approaches, I feel the smile growing across my face, not necessarily because of any aid that he would provide, but because I feel an attraction for him. It has been almost a year since I've known a man, not for any other reason than I find them dispensible. Honestly too, for most men I am quite intimidating. That has been both a hindrance and a blessing.

The last relationship that I had lasted just shy of six months. Matthew was a relatively nice man with a good upbringing and quite intelligent with a Harvard degree in law. Unfortunately, along with most every man I've dated, he was so easily humbled by me. Matthew was in love with me and would have done anything for me. Having overcome him, I became quite bored and cast him off in front of his family and our friends when he proposed to me at a social dinner engagement. I must admit that I enjoyed seeing him break down and bow his head at the table in front of everyone crying like a baby. The power I felt as I laughed at him and walked out was inmeasureable.

Now, standing here under the sun in Mexico, I studied the stranger's incredibly handsome face and wondered if he, too, would give me another challenge. From the way his eyes traveled over my body as he approached, I assumed that he would be an easy battle. Taking his hand into mine, I grasp it firmly and flash him my incredible smile, a smile that had broken many a man's heart. "Nice to meet you Edward. I'm Christy, your newest gringo." I follow with light laughter and purposely allow my hand to linger connected to his for a moment before releasing him. His hands are warm and calloused. I wonder what type of work he does back in the states to have such strong hands.

I follow him around to the front of the Jag, admiring his shapely body as he moves. Immediately I begin thinking that maybe this vacation wasn't such a bad idea. At least I wouldn't be spending it alone, should luck go my way. Even if this stranger was married, it never stopped a man from straying with me before. I have this power over most men and they become entranced every time. Of course, I always hold the upper hand when I tell them what they themselves deny. No man would ever be good enough for me. Watching as this Edward leans over my car now, I am already savoring the rejection that he will most definetely feel after, of course, he fixes my car.

"I'm a lucky woman, running into an American here. Thank you for stopping. I don't know what happened. It just started losing power. Now, the radio doesn't even work." Wincing slightly at the hot metal, I lean onto the car slightly giving you a glance of the clevage I conceal under the scoop neck top that I wear. Staring into the mechanics of the engine, I purposefully twist my face so that I appear to be concentrating on your movements. "Are you a mechanic?" Now I look up at you, putting my most seductive face on.


OOC: I do LOVE the way it's moving. I love your calculating thoughts. They are a big turn on. BTW, this is my favorite scenario and it does so much for me. You have no idea. I do hope that you bring me down.......slowly and brutally. I do so deserve it, don't you think?

 

[Whit00EK]

Looking at her standing there, leaning against the car, I understand that she is still a bitch. She is still a whore. Look at her, thrusting those tits at me. Look at her cocking that one knee so her slacks pull tight against her thighs and her ass. She knows I am watching. She is doing it on purpose. She wants me, and I know it.

I smile inwardly again, thinking "My little slut, if you only knew what you were in for."

We had moved to the front of the car and I peered into the engine compartment. It became readily obvious that she knew little about engines, but she knew plenty about perfume. Her scent streamed over me. It was a combined aroma of something very musky and her own sweat; I could see the sheen on her chest from collarbone to where the scoop top gapped open when she bent over.

I inhaled deeply, savoring both the scent of this woman and the inherently forbidden thoughts of what I was about to do to her. I realized that there was nothing truly wrong with her engine. Her fuel line had just simply popped off the intake valve. Had she continued to pump the accelerator, she might have caused a fire, but with a flick of my wrist I reconnected it and told her she should be able to move on her way quickly. I asked her to get back into her car and try the ignition. She moved away from her leaning perch and sat in the driver's seat. Before she had the chance to turn the key, I flicked open my butterfly knife and sawed through the fan belt to within a sixteenth of an inch. She hit the key and the engine sputtered and roared to life.

I closed the hood and stepped around to her window. She pushed the button and the window slid noiselessly into the door. "I think you have a more serious problem there, lady. I noticed your fan belt was just about to break through. If you will drive ahead of me, just about two miles down this highway, you will see a small road leading off to your right. This would be my hacienda and I would like you to pull in there so I might do something about repairing it or calling a mechanic from the nearby village to replace it. Also, I have some delightfully cold American beer on ice on the back porch...I think you could use one .... or two."

Standing there at her window, speaking to her, I could not help but allow my eyes to wander over her body. I was standing straight up and she could not see my eyes. I looked directly down her bodice and noted her champagne-colored camisole top......lacy.....delicate....not a bra-wearing woman, preferring camisole tops, I surmised. I noticed the beads of sweat clinging to the inner curves of her breasts, quite nice, too. I allowed my eyes to drift down to her crotch and could not restrain a small electric current in my own private areas when I saw that she was wet between the thighs. Her skin was sticking to the linen trousers across her entire inner thighs. The heat must certainly be getting to her. I loved the thought of licking that sweat off her body while she was tied and writhing in fear of what I might do next.

I shook the thought from my head and gave her some quick directions about pulling the Jag behind the hacienda and I would be directly behind her. I watched as she slowly pulled away and follwed within a minute.

As I reached the turn-off to my home, I noted that there was still a small cloud of dust in the air. She had just turned in.

OOC: This seems to be going well. I am not certain as yet about the weapon, but we will see what we will see.

Edward

 

[wetfear]

I admit I was a little "put out" when he didn't respond to my body language, but figured he was trying to be mannerly. I watched him closely as he reconnected some hose on something. Both thankful and a little disappointed that it was that simple to fix, I sighed. The sun was beating down on me relentlessly and I raised a hand to fan myself somewhat. Finally, you spoke up and I shifted my position some, since it wasn't to effective to you anyway.

Comically, your voice carried that do-gooder and informative tone that pitiful males use when they are trying to impress females and I couldn't help but grin slightly. Turning my attention now to the present time, I moved to the driver's seat as you had delegated and slid inside. The engine sprang immediately to life. Sitting back in the seat, I am both relieved and ready to move on now. I watch as you close my hood and approach me, preparing myself for your come on lines. Bored now, I push the electric button and roll down my window in expectation of your advances.

Not really paying much attention to your words at first until you inform me about some fan belt possibly breaking soon. I sigh heavily, almost yawning when you mention your "hacienda". Shrugging slightly, I decide to go to your hacienda, if anything, to prevent another break down later. Besides, it would be fun to toy with you for a while and I'm not on a time schedule. The house that I had reservations to stay at was paid for and I wasn't allotted any certain time to arrive. Though I really was looking forward to the early morning jogs that I would take along the beach, entertaining your small mind for a little while seemed appealing.

Forcing myself to smile, "Sure thing. I really appreciate this." Watching you give me directions, I notice your physique again. Perhaps I would allow you my phone number later should you not bore me too much. The main problem that I've always found with men is that they bore me. God I hate that.

I roll up the window again and put the Jag in drive and head in the directions you gave me, sure that I'm headed for a magnificent house. The heat is intolerable and I'm sweating now, so a shower would be quite inviting. Not to mention I'm feeling slight hunger pains, having last eaten over six hours ago. I lick my lips in anticipation of a fresh and crisp spinach and artichoke salad with cheese wedges. As the car pulls forward, I reach for my bottle of Evian on the seat next to me. Then I remember the gun and retrieve it, sliding it again into my purse. I don't give the gun much more thought.

After a few minutes, I see the road that you were speaking of and turn right onto it. I'm taking aback. It's such a small dirt road, not at all what I had imagined. I can feel my heart sink as I begin to wonder what your house looks like, all at once feeling as if I've found a poor man who dresses nice for show. I sigh heavily. "You, my dear boy, are moving fast out of my league." Continuing on, trying to remember how long you had said I would be here until the belt is fixed. Now, not at all even the slightest bit interested in entertaining anything with you other than the beer, of course. Now that would taste good.

 

[Whit00EK]

Not being familiar with the track, you take it quite slow and I catch up with you in a matter of minutes, even though I have stopped to close and lock the rustic wooden gate that was hidden to your view by a carefully-arranged stack of tumbleweed. But, my home is not far from the highway, although the scrub and mesquite that grow in profusion along the road screen me from any and all unwanted intruders. I watch as you pull into the drive and I see you lean forward. It is most likely not what you had expected back here in the Mexican desert.

The house itself is long and rambling, low-roofed with red tiles and a profusion of chimneys. The veranda is wide and wraps around all four sides of the house. The house itself is shaded by five huge willows and I can just imagine your wondering how a willow can live out here......another smile to myself as I congratulate myself on building on top of a natural spring whose water table never seems to drop lower than needed for the willows and the flowers I have cultivated.

I pull alongside you and watch as you move yourself out of your car, hit in the face with a blanket of heat as if standing in front of a blast furnace....your face immediately flushes and new beads of perspiration appear on your forehead. I hesitate moving toward you just long enough to watch as your blouse begins to stick to your skin and you brush tendrils of hair from your face.

"I suppose we ought to get in out of the heat. I'll make you comfortable and then take a look at your car." I escort you to the side door and open the door. You step into a dark coolness that is totally out of character for the house. You had no idea that I had air conditioned the entire building, of course. You turn to speak to me just in time to see me pick up a loop of rope and slide it over your head, circling your upper arms and holding them at your side. I turn you twice, roughly shoving you with my hands, and wrap the rope tightly about you.

You immediately throw a kick at my groin, but I catch it on my thigh and throw you into a huge leather armchair just inside the door, leaning on your shoulders to hold you there. I scream, "Shut your mouth, bitch!" and grab your purse from your hand and throw it across the room where it skids into a corner. I kneel in front of you, holding your hands to the arms of the chair and straddling your ankles so you really cannot move.

"Go ahead, now, bitch; scream if you like; no one will fucking hear you! You are some stupid bitch, do you know that? There was nothing wrong with your fucking fan belt. I cut the son of a bitch! You are fucking stuck with me, bitch, and you are in for a lesson!"

I lean into you and kiss you on the mouth, smearing your lipstick and biting your lips, not brutally, but enough for you to know I am not talking about games today. I reach under the chair and remove another coil of rope, smaller, and bind your ankles together. I grab the rope which is around your upper body and pull you up into a standing position.

Laughing at your expression...half anger, half fear...I bend and throw you over my shoulder, trussed like the pig in a barbecue pit. I walk to the bedroom and toss you on the bed like so much pork and move to the dresser against the wall. I take two sets of leather cuffs with short chains attached from the top drawer. I attach them to your wrists and jerk them up and connect the other end of the chain to an eye in the wall above the headboard.

I flip open my butterfly knife and wave it in front of your eyes for just a second, and then cut the rope that is on your arms and chest. I throw the rope to the floor and look down at you.....ankles tied together, hands cuffed above your head with a few feet of slack in the chains.

But, you just now realize, you are in trouble. Your body leaps up in the air, fighting at the restraints, and manages to slither itself over the edge of the bed, but you find yourself in some pain, hanging there by one wrist.

I laugh out loud and flip you back on the bed. "You will be much more comfortable there, bitch! Stay put!"

Standing just alongside the bed, I look down to see your chest heaving with the effort you just expended, and watch as your breasts push against the fabric of your blouse.
One of my hands slowly slides its way along your collar bone and along the scoop neck of your top. I grasp one hand full of your blouse at the front and lift upward, your back arching, the material stretching and straining with your weight, and finally it gives way and leaves me with a handful of gold-colored material. There you are, in your camisole, as I had suspected, nipples visible through the material, breathing heavily and screaming at me with your mouth wide open and your eyes filled with what I hope is the realization that you are in my control now.