never gonna happen, Alice. Nice of you to think of
me
that way though.”
I
shut and lock my door and stride by her, knowing she’s got that shit-eating
grin on her face watchin ’ me walk away.
Back
down in the basement, I toss the clothes on the bed. The bitch is still
cuffed
and clamped, taking it like a fuckin ’ champ. “Time
to
get dressed, babe,” I say, removing the clamps and unlocking the cuffs. Her
cherry nipples are misshapen and they’ll be sore for a while. She winces as
she
walks, her pussy aching.
I
follow her over to the bed and untie my belt from around her head. It drops
to
the floor and she works her jaw back and forth. “I’m takin ’
you out of here for a while,” I say, picking up the t-shirt and tugging it
over
her head. She puts her arms through, and I collect her hair in one hand and
pull it free from under the collar.
“Out
where?” she stammers.
“Nowhere
you’ll be recognized, babe, so don’t get your hopes up.” I hold out the
leggings for her to step in and pull them up over her ass. I kick her
running
shoes out from under the bed and point to them. She puts them on as I tie
her
hair in a knot at the back of her head.
She
stands up, and her stomach growls. “You’re gonna eat today if I have to
shove
it down your throat. Got it?”
She
nods, and I take her by the wrist and pull her behind me, out the basement
door
and up the stairs into the bright, hot sun. She throws her arm up to shade
her
eyes. “I’ve got a loaded gun on me, babe. You try to run, I shoot you dead.”
I
lead her across the gravel lot to my bike, standing apart from the other
brothers’ bikes, in the shade of a giant oak tree. I take my helmet off the
seat and place it on her head, buckling it under her chin. In a side bag, I
find an extra pair of sunglasses and slide them on her face. With her hair
tucked up inside the helmet on her head, and the glasses on, fuck her own
mother wouldn’t spot her on the back of my bike. I put my own glasses on and
straddle my bike.
“You
ever been on a bike before?” I ask her. She shakes her head, no. “Swing your
leg over, babe. The vibration might hurt your pussy a little after having
that
clamp on, but we’re not goin ’ far.” I pull her
arms
around my waist. “Hold on tight, don’t want you fallin ’
off.”
I
fire up the engine, and she jumps, pressing against my back, her arms in a
death grip around my waist. I walk the bike back into the driveway and ease
it
forward toward the gate.
Out
on the road, I lift my face to the sun and feel the wind in my hair. It’s a
beautiful fuckin ’ day, warm for early November.
With
a bitch at my back and my Harley under me, I want to ride all
day.
I
take back roads and avoid the highways and the cops. They’ve had their eyes
on
LLMC for a while now and can’t bust us for shit. I’m not gonna give them a
reason today.
I
drive through a fast food place and get us burgers and fries, tuckin ’ them away in my saddle bag before pullin ’ back on the road. The motel I find is a small
place
with about ten rooms for rent, all with outside doors. From the peeling
paint
and busted lampposts, it looks like it was built in the nineteen fifties and
hasn’t been fixed up since.
I
park in front of the door that says OFFICE on the widow and turn off the
engine. I don’t want to take the bitch inside with me, and I don’t think she
’ll
run, but leaving her alone gives me a real bad feeling. “Leave the helmet
on,
babe and stand right outside the glass door where I can see you.” I take her
hand and run it over the gun tucked into my pants. She pulls her hand back
like
she touched a hot iron and nods.
Inside,
there’s an old man about eighty years old. He can’t hear a fuckin ’
thing and takes my money without asking any questions, no ID, no nothin ’. I take the key he gives me and head back
outside
where the bitch is waiting for me. “We’re on the end,” I tell her. “Hop back
on.”
We
ride down
me
that way though.”
I
shut and lock my door and stride by her, knowing she’s got that shit-eating
grin on her face watchin ’ me walk away.
Back
down in the basement, I toss the clothes on the bed. The bitch is still
cuffed
and clamped, taking it like a fuckin ’ champ. “Time
to
get dressed, babe,” I say, removing the clamps and unlocking the cuffs. Her
cherry nipples are misshapen and they’ll be sore for a while. She winces as
she
walks, her pussy aching.
I
follow her over to the bed and untie my belt from around her head. It drops
to
the floor and she works her jaw back and forth. “I’m takin ’
you out of here for a while,” I say, picking up the t-shirt and tugging it
over
her head. She puts her arms through, and I collect her hair in one hand and
pull it free from under the collar.
“Out
where?” she stammers.
“Nowhere
you’ll be recognized, babe, so don’t get your hopes up.” I hold out the
leggings for her to step in and pull them up over her ass. I kick her
running
shoes out from under the bed and point to them. She puts them on as I tie
her
hair in a knot at the back of her head.
She
stands up, and her stomach growls. “You’re gonna eat today if I have to
shove
it down your throat. Got it?”
She
nods, and I take her by the wrist and pull her behind me, out the basement
door
and up the stairs into the bright, hot sun. She throws her arm up to shade
her
eyes. “I’ve got a loaded gun on me, babe. You try to run, I shoot you dead.”
I
lead her across the gravel lot to my bike, standing apart from the other
brothers’ bikes, in the shade of a giant oak tree. I take my helmet off the
seat and place it on her head, buckling it under her chin. In a side bag, I
find an extra pair of sunglasses and slide them on her face. With her hair
tucked up inside the helmet on her head, and the glasses on, fuck her own
mother wouldn’t spot her on the back of my bike. I put my own glasses on and
straddle my bike.
“You
ever been on a bike before?” I ask her. She shakes her head, no. “Swing your
leg over, babe. The vibration might hurt your pussy a little after having
that
clamp on, but we’re not goin ’ far.” I pull her
arms
around my waist. “Hold on tight, don’t want you fallin ’
off.”
I
fire up the engine, and she jumps, pressing against my back, her arms in a
death grip around my waist. I walk the bike back into the driveway and ease
it
forward toward the gate.
Out
on the road, I lift my face to the sun and feel the wind in my hair. It’s a
beautiful fuckin ’ day, warm for early November.
With
a bitch at my back and my Harley under me, I want to ride all
day.
I
take back roads and avoid the highways and the cops. They’ve had their eyes
on
LLMC for a while now and can’t bust us for shit. I’m not gonna give them a
reason today.
I
drive through a fast food place and get us burgers and fries, tuckin ’ them away in my saddle bag before pullin ’ back on the road. The motel I find is a small
place
with about ten rooms for rent, all with outside doors. From the peeling
paint
and busted lampposts, it looks like it was built in the nineteen fifties and
hasn’t been fixed up since.
I
park in front of the door that says OFFICE on the widow and turn off the
engine. I don’t want to take the bitch inside with me, and I don’t think she
’ll
run, but leaving her alone gives me a real bad feeling. “Leave the helmet
on,
babe and stand right outside the glass door where I can see you.” I take her
hand and run it over the gun tucked into my pants. She pulls her hand back
like
she touched a hot iron and nods.
Inside,
there’s an old man about eighty years old. He can’t hear a fuckin ’
thing and takes my money without asking any questions, no ID, no nothin ’. I take the key he gives me and head back
outside
where the bitch is waiting for me. “We’re on the end,” I tell her. “Hop back
on.”
We
ride down
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