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Biker slave
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.
Biker Slave
Last weekend I attended a favorite Winter distraction, a
Motorcycle show. This is an annual affair with dealers
displaying their parts and accessories. Tattoo artists come
to practise their art. Even though it is the coldest part of
February, people from all around wade through the ice and
snow to shake off the Winter blues and look forward to
better days to follow. The location is little more than a
warehouse but the women still wear their skimpy halter tops
and bikini bottoms. That alone is enough to break my
hibernation.
A quick pass around the hall gave a overall view of the
show. Individual exhibitors were mainly located around the
outside. Dealers had the center of the building. Gas fired
heaters, placed around the area, gave warmth while one was
right below them but between heaters it was none too
comfortable. At the far end, a semi-trailer provided a stage
for a loud band. Their brand of Rock-N-Roll was low on
quality but high on decibels. The stage had a dozen straw
bales with a blue plastic tarp spread inside them arranged
in front. This was the mud wrestling pit. I toured around
the rest of the area and saw the Big Python Display and The
Jap Motorcycle Bash. There was quite a commotion around the
stage and the band had, mercifully, stopped. Mud wrestlers
had begun their contest but it was over before I could get
there. The crowd was packed so thick I couldn't see anyway!
On the way to the mud wrestlers, I passed one of the
individual exhibitors that caught my eye. The bike was
nothing special as Harley Shovel-Heads go. Mild rake,
chrome, fancy seat and the uexhibitors that caught my eye. The bike was
nothing special as Harley Shovel-Heads go. Mild rake,
chrome, fancy seat and the usual display. I still don't know
why this situation struck me. The couple were sitting in the
display on folding chairs. She has a black leather skirt,
leather vest (with nothing underneath), heels, and leather
collar. Granted the leather collar is unusual but not at a
bike show. He was wearing a screen print T-shirt, leather
vest, boots and pants. I am no foot fetishist, but the
outstanding thing about this guy was the boots. These dudes
were shined like a military school cadet's. Here we are,
dead of winter, snow ass deep and this guy has boots you can
see yourself in! On second glance, she had something too.
There was a gold chain between the front of her vest. I
first wrote it off as some sort of jewelry, but that made no
sense. Then it struck me. This chick had a chain between her
tits! When I looked again, she was in the process of getting
up from the folding chair and going the back of the display
where they had a curtain strung up to make a sort of
backdrop for the display and to store their stuff out of the
way during the show.
I saw an old friend at one of the dealer's trailers in the
middle of the building. "Hey Curt!" I went over to shoot the
shit for a while. We swapped gossip and parted later. When
leaving the trailer, I spied the chick with the vest and
nothing under it. Remember her? Well, this time she had
changed her stuff a bit while she was behind the backdrop
for the display. She had an even wider collar on and was
pulling her hair out of the way to get to a padlock she was
hooking in the back. In addition, she had put leather cuffs
on her ankles that were padlocked together with about
eighteen inches of chain. I could not help but stare at this
sight when the dealer came over and offered me a convenient
folding chair at his booth. "Take a load off. If this goes
like last night, You are going to see quite a show." Well, I
hadn't spent a nickle with this guy but I know hospitality
when I see it. I took him up on his offer. After all, a
ringside seat is nothing to sneeze at!
She had gotten her hair untangled from the collar and I had
gotten my dick untangled from my underwear. I sat down to
see what transpired next. Well, she had a problem sitting
down. She had fastened a chrome dog lead to the collar and
the guy with the shiny boots was using it to direct her to
the folding chair. She had both hands on either side of the
chair easing her butt down like the thing was a block of
ice. This made no sense at all! Sure it was cold in there.
But their display was near one of the heaters. Finally, she
got parked with a lot of squirming and grimacing. The
salesman for the dealer pulled up a chair next to me and
asked for an update. I told him that nothing much happened.
"She just sat down." He told me that he was taking a break
because he figured that the place was about to get covered
by lookers. "Last night these bikes on display were covered
with people drooling all over themselves." "What for?" I
asked. "What's the big deal? Just a biker chick with half
her chest exposed. Nothing special." "You'll see," He
replied. "These two are slave and master. He worked her into
a frenzy last night." Always willing to take advise from a
pro, I prepared for a show.
I did not have long to wait as it turned out. The guy with
the shiny boots, the master, motioned with the dog lead for
her to get up. This she did willingly. She then revealed the
reason for the shiny boots! She pulled out a shoe shine box
and proceeded to kneel down before him and brush the boots
to an even higher gloss. She was turned toward me and
occasionally I could see where the gold chain was connected
to. Sure enough, her tits had been pierced and there were
gold rings through them. From my seated vantage point I
could see it all. Slave rings! However, most people passed
with little more than a quick glance. A few stopped and
tried to look like they were shopping for bikes. "Go out
there and close a sale." I told my salesman partner. He
laughed and leaned back. "No need to waste my time. Those
bikes won't be selling soon. I can see it happening all over
again."
After she had shined on his boots for a while, he pulled her
up and said something to her. She nodded her head and,
holding the lead in her left hand, walked back behind the
backdrop. Walking is really not the proper term. Although
her ankles were hobbled, she was not limited to the point
that she should walk all that bad. Something else was going
on here. Maybe she had kneeled too long and her legs had not
yet regained circulation. That was probably it, I prided
myself on my deductive powers. "Did you see her walk?" My
partner spoke. "Looks like she has a cob up her ass!" An old
saying but I never thought it would apply here.
She brought out a stand with a sign on it. "Shoe Shine 25
Cents." Now there's an old fashioned bargain if ever I saw
one! Quickly a line formed. Let me describe this as best I
can. This biker chick, slave if you will, is facing away
from me. She is shining boots that have been out in the slop
and snow and walking around this show and mud and crap.
Well, you get the picture. These are messy boots! Anyway,
the leather skirt is not covering her butt as well as it did
earlier because her master picks it up occasionally to give
her a swat with his hand because she is not doing a good
enough job. "Maybe you can't see well enough." He tells her.
So to improve her view, he connects the dog lead to the shoe
shine box. I can't imagine her being that far-sighted. He
has her nose about 10 inches from this customer's grubby
boot. It becomes obvious that this will take some time and
most of these patrons are not much on waiting their turn.
They join the crowd of spectators that is growing by the
minute. "Told you that there was no need to get excited.
There won't be any bikes sold here 'til this show is over,"
my salesman friend said.
The slave girl is busting her brushes now but the results
are not pleasing the master. He raises the hem more often
for a spank now and from my ringside seat I can see her
bottom is turning red. Once he raised it higher than usual
and I got a glimpse of some angry red stripes across her
butt. My hypothesis of her sitting down so carefully was at
once formulated and shattered. Those stripes, from some kind
of whip, could not be the reason she approached the chair so
carefully. She had been sitting in that very chair only
minutes earlier. This has my curiosity aroused as well as
some other parts of me aroused.
The master is acting pissed now. I know he is acting
because, regularly, he bends to her ear and asks her
something. She nods her head affirmatively and he proceeds.
He has gone over to the bike and picked up a short whip from
the display. The crowd backs up a bit when they see what he
has in mind. I silently thank them for improving my view.
Master raises her skirt to expose her whole butt. The crowd
goes nuts with whooping and cheering at the sight of her
rounded hips. Slavegirl pauses her buffing momentarily when
she feels the cold on her exposed flesh. Her red cheeks
don't stay cold long as master applies the whip to her. I
have to marvel at this whole spectacle. Here I am, not five
feet away from this naked assed slave girl, and all my mind
can think of is the leather strap up the crack of her butt.
I figured she was wearing leather panties or maybe nothing.
But this! There is a belt around her waist that has another
belt connected that goes between her legs. This whole affair
is locked by a padlock in front. I can see it swinging as
she moves. Now she doesn't move much. Her ankles were still
connected and her collar was connected to the shoeshine box.
And yes, she was still brushing. This pair of boots was
beginning to show some results!
This leather strap is drawing my attention again. I believe,
yes it is, there is a dildo in her! Two of them! No wonder
she can't sit down. The dilemma is solved. At least for me.
Slavegirl's problems, however, continue. In order to get a
satisfactory luster, these boots will have to get a
spitshine. Master tells her to lick the boots. She does this
willingly while he eases off on the whip a bit. Her red
bottom is still moving around with the dildoes still working
their magic within her. She starts breathing heavier and the
crowd is yelling. Her master puts his boot next to the
customers and she licks both of them at almost the same
time. Suddenly, she pauses and stretches her neck as far as
the chain will allow and makes a sound like none I have ever
heard before. A sound that echoes throughout the hall and
causes the crowd to silence for a moment in wonder.
"MMMAAASSSTTTEEERRRRRR!" And then she goes limp like a
puddle of pudding.
She lays there breathing slowly and shaking a bit
periodically. Master unfastened the collar chain and carried
her back to the display. The customer with the now-shiny
boots picked up the shoe shine box and carried it to them.
Master thanked him. He dug down in his jeans. "Here's your
quarter, lady." He replied. "Thanks for the shine."
Master gets the dildo belt removed and straightens her up a
bit. She has her eyes open but is crying a bit. She is
smiling too so she must be OK.
"Told you there was a hell of a show." My partner broke the
moment. I had to agree with him. "Thanks for the ringside
seat. Now that we can talk, what is the price on the bike
over there?" "I can give you a bikeshow special on that
under one condition." "What?" "You don't make me clean the
damn thing up after this show tonight. These lookers make a
mess of everything." "Deal!" Well I was the proud owner of
new wheels and had witnessed the show of my life. "You
know," He said. "The guy that sat in your chair last night
bought one the same way you did." I guess his evening wasn't
a total loss either.
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