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Biscuitman18

"Captive... And Loving It"

Stacy Kess was excited. She hadn't felt this way since she was a young girl growing up in North Carolina. It was snowing outside, and despite her age (26), she couldn't wait to get outside and play in the fresh powder.

However, if there was just one thing that was exciting her more, it was the prospect of finally breaking out that thing she ordered last month. Still wearing her oversized flannel pajamas, she quickly thrust the comforter off of her and dashed to the closet across from the bed. Sliding the door open, she pulled out a pretty sizable cardboard box and wasted no time ripping off the packing tape, and dispatching with the tissue packer and top layer of packing peanuts.

There it was.

To Stacy, this was the most exciting moment of her year. There, in that box, laid a plump piece of apparel, black on the shoulders, and royal blue everywhere else. It was that old 1999 North Face Nuptse jacket her parents had given her when she was still in college, only now, it was much bigger, as she had sent it to a certain website to get it overfilled.

"Mmmmm..." she moaned, daydreaming of the feeling that was about to come about. Unable to restrain herself anymore, she plunged her hands into the box and whipped the jacket around her, savoring each second of slipping her arms into the soft, puffy sleeves. Excitedly, she slid the closet door closed, zipped the jacket all the way up, and took a glance at the figure in the mirror.

There she stood. Stacy Kess, still in her PJs, hidden in the already about two-sizes-too-big jacket, now even bigger with the aforementioned addition of all that extra down.

"Ohhhh..." she moaned, almost taken aback by just how adorable she already looked...until she got to her head, "...oh, now I can fix that."

Stacy walked over to the nearest bedpost and pulled from atop it a navy blue knit toboggan which she happily slipped over her whitish-blonde hair, which she had placed in braided pigtails ("Swiss Miss style!" the pizza guy had joked last night) the moment she got home from work yesterday.

Smiling her angelic smile, she took one more look in the mirror, sighing happily as she bounded into the living room, and plopped down on the Lazy-Boy to put on her snowboots.

It was finally time. Giggling like a schoolgirl, Stacy almost hopped with excitement over to the back door.

Stacy turned the knob. "Here we go!" she whispered, happily...until she saw what was on the other side of the door.

A gun pointed right at her, courtesy of a rail-thin man, who had obviously been waiting for her on the back porch. "Oh, no," Stacy gasped, immediately putting her hands up, as is customary with being held at gunpoint, "h-h-h-h--"

"Don't even say it, girly." the Gunman growled.

Stacy nodded calmly, as the Gunman directed her to re-enter her house, looking around frantically for something, until finally he saw it. A chair from her kitchen table, which, with his gun constantly trained on the helpless girl, he slowly slid into the bedroom, where Stacy sat on the bed, fidgeting her fingers nervously.

Stopping just across from the bed, the Gunman started looking around again, but stopped just long enough to give Stacy another order.

"Sit."

Stacy quickly did as she was told and sat down on the kitchen chair.

"Rope," the Gunman grumbled.

"In--in that closet there," Stacy stammered, as the Gunman back toward the closet, and slid the door open, quickly pulling from inside two large rolls of purple climbing rope, and a much smaller roll of blue.

Now, he could get this done. Sitting the purple ropes on the dresser, the Gunman started to unroll the blue, grumbling, "Arms behind your back, girl."

Stacy quickly and quietly did as she was told again, as the Gunman began to wind the rope around her wrists, quickly knotting the bind and tying the loose ends to the legs of the chair behind his hostage.

Stacy started to figure out what he was planning, and sure enough, just as she suspected, he next used the two rolls of purple for a similar purpose, wrapping one roll around Stacy's upper body, squeezing the uber-puffy jacket so tight around her that the shape of her breasts were almost visible under the thick puff above the top rope, and effectively binding her to the chair. The other he predictably wrapped around her legs, strapping her lower body to the chair.

This was it. Stacy was officially helpless, and she knew it...but wait, what if--? No.

She almost thought the Gunman could read her mind, as he took a white bandana from the dresser and cleave-gagged her.

Now...officially, she was helpless.

The Gunman stood back and looked at his handywork, chuckling evilly as he looked at the poor little girl in the uber-puffy jacket, wrapped up tight like a gift meant just for him.

"I'll be right back," he whispered into her right ear, as he re-entered the living room, and closed the bedroom door behind him.

Stacy didn't know what to do. This day had taken quite a different turn to say the least...but, it didn't have to be this way, she thought.

It was this thought that inspired her to her next move.

Stacy began to twist and writhe in her imprisonment, making soft groans and moans as she attempted to free herself.

"Mmmph...mmmph...mmmph."

Oddly, she noticed, as she was slowly slipping the purple ropes down her body, her jacket seemed to be getting puffier. Maybe it was just the down refluffing after being under those tight ropes, but, she felt strange to think that this was almost enjoyable.

She continued to struggle against her ropes, moaning louder and louder in a desperate attempt to call for help...or was it?

Finally on her loudest groan, the door burst open again, the Gunman apparently done with whatever he'd been doing in the other room. He pulled the gun back out from his pocket and began shaking it angrily at Stacy, but kept his angered words quiet so as not to alert Stacy's nosy neighbors.

"What do you think you're doing, girl? Trying to untie yourself, were you? Kinda hard with that big, puffy jacket on, isn't it?"

Stacy nodded innocently as the Gunman threw the gun to the hardwood floor, making a clatter that only cheap dollar-store plastic can make.

"Well, there's just one problem with that, little girl," the former Gunman said, slowly slinking around to Stacy's back, pulling the gag down from her mouth, "that's just the way I like you."

With that, Stacy turned her head to face her captor and kissed him passionately.

"I have to admit," Stacy whispered sensually, "I liked it, too, baby."

Jeff was overcome with happiness at hearing this and quickly kissed Stacy again.

"I love you, baby." he said, as he began to untie his fiance.

Freed, Stacy hopped up and wrapped her arms around Jeff, sighing, "I love you, too."

THE END...for now.

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