The Empowering of Jill

Author note: Second of three parts, but still a stand alone tale.

She was lost and confused. Each minute seemed to bring her further and further into the desert. The directions that Jack had given her to his cabin seemed simple. "You take the third right past route 66. After thirty minutes, begin a gentle climb into the mountains. Then follow the signs to Wild Lake.”

Now she wondered whether the third turn included the highway or not. "Why had I not asked more questions?"

She knew the answer to that one. When she had heard his invitation, her only thought was a weekend with Jack. The cabin was Jack's private reserve. Not even his wife had been there.

The view from the automobile was one of desolation. There was sand punctured by low, dried shrubs. Not even a cactus was able to make a stand in such territory. With the temperature above 100, a shimmering heat rose from the ground. The hot air made the demons of the earth visible. Sometimes they were close, at other times they appeared along the horizon, but they always moved and shifted with the dry wind. For the unwary traveler, they meant many things and none of them good.

The air conditioner had not stopped its whine since the car started. Its cool air was the only defense against the outside. Her light summer dress revealed dark, chilled nipples. The sensitive nibs protruded provocatively. She knew how much Jack enjoyed torturing her by pinching and rubbing them raw. It was mostly exciting play for her also, up until the pleasure turned to pain. Nevertheless, this was their wanton weekend and the odor wafting from between her legs betrayed how much she looked forward to the time together.

Her thoughts turned to him “SOON, SOON, I will be with Jack! a glass of champagne for my parched throat and his arms around me."

Her revelry was broken by a soft hissing sound from the front of the vehicle. Then, the sickly sweet smell of antifreeze reached her nose. She knew it was only one thing, a radiator hose. Her fears were confirmed when a plume of steam poured from under the hood and the engine temperature light flashed its ominous warning. The car slowed noticeable as it began the climb up a small hill. If she reached the crest, the downslope may provide a rest for the labored engine.

"NO!, NO! this cannot be happening!" she half-sobbed and half-screamed while the car slowed to a stop some distance before the top.

It took a long minute to regain her composure. What finally brought her around was remembering the cell phone. It was in her purse and help was only a call away. She turned it on and quickly dialed 911. As she waited for the connection, she knew her tardiness would be punished by Jack. This may have not been her fault, but that would not make any difference to him. The phone remained silent. She was not within range.

Climbing out of the door, the blast of hot air was a wakeup call to the trouble she was in. It moved over her, engulfing her body in a blanket of heated oppression. She went to the front of the car to look for the hood latch and then stopped. Even if she could open the hood, she was not a mechanic and did not even have any water. Just this slight exertion had already made her damp. Where the dress hung on her skin, the material seemed to disappear leaving only wetness against flesh. Her dark brown nipples were easily discernible now, even though they were now trying to hide within her.

She slumped back into the seat to assess the situation. The road was not much more than a cattle path. “Forty minutes and there has been no one. Looks like a long walk; but which way? It's hours back to the main road and forward may only lead further into nowhere. Either way, I must wait for the sun to go down and then how do I stay on the road." were her thoughts.

As realization of the danger became more evident, panic and fear overtook her consciousness. She sat in a near catatonic state waiting for something, for anything. Perspiration coated her skin, soaked the dress and drops began to quench the barren sand. Tears slowly added to the moisture dripping from her face. The squirrel cage that her mind had become continued to race in ever tighter, faster circles. She imagined all sorts of fantastic rescues and gruesome deaths. The shimmering desert added to her fantasies. She could hear and see help in all directions, but none arrived.

This last sound was particularly real. It was a deep throated rumble off in the distance. She looked back down the road and the desert provided another mirage to add to her torture. There appeared to be a moving dot followed by a plume of sand coming toward her. Wiping her eyes and trying to focus her senses, she realized this was real. A car was speeding in her direction. As the vehicle approach, it was too small for an automobile. What pulled up was a custom Harley, a big HOG, being ridden by an even bigger man. She chuckled with relief and fear.

The motor stopped and the rider, wearing jeans, boots and a leather vest, stepped off the machine. A good foot taller than her, she found herself looking into his muscled mated chest. No young kid, his face was rough chiseled, handsome and displayed years of hard-won experience.

Despite or perhaps because of her predicament, a tension between them was immediately evident. Through a quick exchange of pleasantries, she learned his name was Spike, but only served to heighten her desire. It may have been the heat or her expectations for the day, but the wetness between her legs was real.

Opening the hood with practiced ease, Spike peered into the engine. His head disappeared inside allowing her eyes to wander freely over his body. She noticed the bulge in his jeans. "Oh, God, that cannot be real. It must be a shadow or a fold in the material," was her appraisal. As he straightened from the examination, she could not divert her gaze. If anything, the bulge loomed even larger in her lust-fueled imagination.

The stranger returned her stare. His eyes seemed to take all of her in at one time. He grinned and nodded slightly to let her know that she had been caught with her eyes on the cookie jar. Her embarrassment started on her face and spread throughout. However, it only added to the growing fire within her steamy body. The additional blood reached her breasts swelling them in her excitement. The exposed cleavage deepened noticeably with each breath. The slightest movement of the light dress against her erect nipples sent chills down to the souls of feet.

He confirmed her opinion, the radiator hose was worn through. A new one and water would be needed to get the car going. It was an hour ride back to a service station. However, there appeared to be no other choice; he must take her and she must go. The stranger slipped into the well-worn saddle like an easy chair and fired up the motor. Even standing next to the machine, the powerful vibrations reverberated against her.

His directions were simple, climb on and hold tight. That was easier said that done. Half-way up her thigh when standing, the hem of her dress rested on her hips while seated on the contorted saddle. Her hot pink panties, already streaked gray with her fluids, were totally exposed. The heat of the leather seat radiated into her womb and melted her insides with a different kind of warmth. The thunder of the engine only added to her restlessness. It was a droning noise which was all around and within her. She was a cat on a hot tin roof and this cat was beginning to really purr.

As her body adapted to the smooth, soft seat, she sunk deeper into the leather. Her legs spread wider to welcome the metal lover. Riding high, her clit was safe from the incessant vibration. She tentatively put her arms around the stranger, but he pulled her tight against him. Instinctively, she pulled back from his touch. Just then, the HOG leaped ahead. Losing her balance, she slid backwards. At the last instant, her fingers grasped the edge of Spike’s vest. Panic had turned her tentative hold into a bear hug. Her front pushed hard into his back, pelvis rubbed against ass and her hands clasped the muscled flesh.

The machine gathered speed. At every gearshift, the motorcycle threw her forward and then backwards as it lunged faster. Each time, she grabbed him tighter forcing her fullness into his back. Now at cruising speed, the erratic motion ceased. The air rushing past her face and through her hair reducing the feeling of panic. No longer in fear of falling, she felt her desire for this man or this machine or both return with even greater urgency.

The movement had placed her nether lips directly against his rough jeans. Every vibration of the motor, bump in the road and flex of his buttocks sent through her a surge of energy. After a minute, her need was all that remained. Grabbing tighter, her legs opened further, pushing her clit directly against him. Just breathing produced waves of pleasure passing over her. Reaching the pinnacle, she was engulfed by the intensity and the overload awakened never used nerves.

Her peak was high and the down slope gradual. Although the sun had returned, she was still deaf and numb. There was no roar of the engine, no wind in her hair and no vibration through her body. The only movement was the slowing oscillations of her hips against the rough material and her hand stroking cock through his jeans.

He had stopped from fear that her thrashing would tip over his ride. She started to withdraw her hand and apologize for her actions. Then she paused. He certainly had not complained and welcomed the hand on his erection.

She felt the effect of her rubbing; he had lengthened halfway down his leg; the material stretched tight from his thickness. Her organism had been an awakening to her body and psyche. Now she needed more; she needed to fuck and be fucked. The hunger to be filled was overwhelming. She wanted to be stretched deep and wide by him, to feast and feel his torrent of white heat.

He turned to her and took a rough kiss. Finding no resistance, he went deeper into her mouth and finally had her breath. Her hair became the target of his hands. At first, he fondled the silken strands and then grabbing a handful of the wild mane, he pulled her head back. His mouth moved crudely over the exposed neck, sucking and biting the flesh. The sensations to her throat only added to the renewed pleasure.

Her hands roamed freely on his chest. The thick hair over his defined muscles was like holding a wild beast. She could feel the strength and excitement rippling through his body and knew she would only survive by matching his animal with her own. She had never had free reign over such a man. Her opening salvo was her nails along his hard flesh.

His nipples were next. She attacked the sensitive ends which awoke him to the next step in their dance. Brushing the dress from her shoulder, he freed an inviting breast. Her rough caress to his chest is returned by a hard suckle on her engorged nipple. At any other time, both of them would be in agonizing pain, but the fire from within only permitted the sensation of heightened pleasure.

She leans back on the seat, separating their bodies enough to remove the dress. Her body is a feast for his eyes; every inch is studied in minute detail. His view of her cunt is blocked by cum soaked panties. A frown forms, but is immediately replaced by a grin. Nothing is to be in his way.

His hands make short work of the cum soaked panties. Her pink gash and swollen clit is revealed. He runs his hand through her lips and pushes two fingers inside to rub against her swollen G spot. The sudden pleasure escapes her mouth and she involuntarily clamps down on them. His welcome inspection ends too quickly as he is becoming incensed with her body.

Grasping her breasts, he works them hard, pleasure radiating through her spine and into her cunt. He moves on. Sitting up, she senses why. Somehow he has brought forth his tool. Freed from its constraint, his cock lays down along her pubic bone almost reaching to the bellybutton.

Barely encircling him with both hands, she was on an emotional roller coaster. She must possess this demon, but can she survive its demands? Her thumbs rub hard along the underside against the nerve. This has the desired effect. She watches mesmerized as the head grows noticeably and lubrication forms around the opening.

The ground would be torture for both, so they must join on the machine. She is seated above him which makes the task seemingly impossible. Realizing the problem, he grabs her around the waist and lifts her overhead. Twisting around, he places her on the other side, down below him.

He moves his shaft through her slit, adding his slickness to her existing torrent. The head reaches her clit and twirls around the needy center. It sends icy jolts to her cunt; making it expand with her willingness. Moving back down, he brings the bulbous head to her opening.

She wanted to clasp him tight, to feel the fullness, but his size would not allow him to push through without ripping her flesh. She wills herself to relax and takes matters into her own hands. Grasping the shaft just below the head, she made sure it was slick with her juice. She moved it to her opening, slid forward and lifted her legs.

Luckily, he pushed at the same moment and in one thrust he was three-quarters into her sheath. Not satisfied until he split her, he continued to seek her depths. "How much more can there be; he is at my end; there is only pain at the end." her body began to search for a way to regain the incredible pleasure.

High over her head, she can see his ape hangers. Grabbing them, she pulls herself up and back. The shape of the tank allows her body to recline and open her womb totally to him. This time she is the victor. His hairy pubes are against her; pelvis to pelvis, she grinds into him, lifting her muscular legs.

He is her tool. She rides him to her place of pure light. Once there, she feasts on the energy. His eyes begin to change, his superiority is quickly ebbing away. He tries to regain his dominance by moving his boots onto the rear foot pegs in hopes of more leverage for his efforts. Instead, she welcomes his longer strokes as he swells within her. His hands are roughly on her breasts, but her blood is thick now and she can only feel her gathering energy.

His hard thrusts propel his seed to the seat of creation. She drinks it in knowing it is his end and her beginning. He quickly leaves his offering to the emerging Goddess. Not a sound escapes the warring pair. They are here for themselves and those words can be said silently.

Even as she continues to ride the crest of the wave, he has drowned in the frothing sea. Like a deflating balloon, he quickly reduces to a more normal size. Still more than enough, she draws him back inside. Her unquenched thirst milks the last of his sperm.

She beat him. This realization causes a new spasm to overcome her. No longer sexual, it is more primal, the victory of battle, the vanquishing of a foe. Her breasts swell with triumph and demand more. Grabbing her nipples, she squeezes until the blood returns to her body. The pain is exquisite and, at last, her voice breaks free. An unearthly roar celebrates her victory.

When her vision finally clears, she was staring deeply into him. There was no pleasure or satisfaction in his eyes, only fear. His strength, his size and his weight no longer mattered, she owned him. He tried to withdraw from her, but his body could not move. In defense, his member went into hiding, shrinking into itself until it could go no further. The once mighty bludgeon was vanquished by the she-devil freed from her confinement. Finally, she let him go. Without a word, he dismounted and turned away.

Searching for her dress, the motion sends a trickle down her thigh. The ruined panties provide inspiration and she slips the lace inside her; his seed will forever remain. The soft pressure is a welcome counterpoint to her recent stretching. She watches at how easily he replaces his diminutive penis into his pants and chuckles to herself at how a short while before, it seemed like such a fearful weapon.

Busying himself with the motorcycle, he starts the machine and slips heavily into the saddle. He waits patiently, not wanting to anger her. At her own pace, she climbs on like mounting an old lover - without any hesitation and ready for the ride. Even as she fuses herself to his back, he tries to create some space between them. She pulls him tighter. Her touch is like a blade to his skin and the odor of an animal caught in a trap issues with his sweat from every pore.

His escape lies in taking her to town. This time the machine gains speed slowly; the acceleration is smooth and unbroken. Nevertheless, she clinches her arms around him. He winces, but is physically and mentally broken and in her clutches. She again feels the wind through her hair. It is the feeling of freedom and newly-discovered power. Her point is made, so she releases her grip and leans back to rest on her elbows. He has trouble controlling the machine, but that is his problem. She is free and in total control of herself for the first time.

In what seemed like an instant, they have returned to her automobile and flashed past it. They crest the small rise. A shallow valley lies on the other side with a major highway running through it. Sheltered in a wash directly in front of them was a small town. It seemed as if her savior had a plan to screw her all along. However, what occurred was something neither one of them imagined. She came away with what he wanted and he came away with what she feared.

Dropping her at the only service station, he took off like a beaten cur with its tail on fire. The only defiance he could muster was a half-hearted bird which she considered a salute. She walked into the hot, grimy office and explained her troubles to a smelly, dirty, fat man behind the desk.

Unzipping his pants, he started fingering himself and said with a toothless grin, "Pretty busy here today. If you are nice to me, maybe I can get to it tomorrow."

His open-lips exposed a picket fence of missing and decaying teeth. She did not know what disgusted her the most; his bloated face, his diminutive cock, or his piggish demeanor.

The feeling of the lace between her legs caused a small smile. Two hours ago, she would not have known what to do. But to a predator, it was only a minor inconvenience. Leaning over the desk, her face was inches from his. Her abundant cleavage swung low almost touching his pregnant-appearing stomach. For the next few seconds, she studied every detail of his wizened features and then glanced around the filthy room.

Although he had stopped breathing, the odor wafting from his frozen mouth was putrid. Finally, she looked him in the eyes. As her gaze bore to the center of a rarely used brain, her nipples hardened until they rubbed against his filthy tee shirt. She knew his fear and had already wasted too much of her valuable time on his crap.

An hour later, she was streaking down the highway in her automobile. The repair had gone quickly almost as if the fat man could not wait to be rid of her. The time had given her the chance to do her nails and reconsider her relationship with Jack. Holding out her right hand, she gave a slight nod of approval at the blood red color. She also liked the new shape; more sculptured, more pointed and someone may even say claw-like. Jack would surely have an opinion on their shape when they discuss the changes she planned in the company as his new partner.

The turn onto the road up to the Wild Lake was quite evident. It seemed that Jack had given her the wrong directions. She had no doubt he had done it on purpose. The joke would be on him. Jack's little Jill was on her way up the hill and she was carrying many years of frustration, abuse and anger.