Excerpt - Bound by Bikers
- 1 month ago
- 18 min read
- 2,200 Aufrufe
Arriving home, Natalie stared at the card that Locke had given her. The front contained two designs – the larger one, which was centered, appeared to be two sets of handcuffs with the chains winding through each other like a caduceus, the four cuff bracelets extending outward in a spread-eagle. Though cryptic, Natalie had no misconceptions about the intent of the symbol.
The second design was much smaller and in the lower-right corner. It took her a minute to realize it was a tiny padlock, like the kind people attached to bike chains. Confused for a moment – it seemed redundant given the handcuffs – she suddenly nodded in understanding. Padlock. His “name” is Locke. Oh, that’s so clever. She rolled her eyes.
The back had only an address: 42 W. Pioneer Street. No city, nothing else that might give a clue as to what Locke had meant. She knew where Pioneer Street was, but when she looked it up on Google Maps, she was surprised to see a 40 and a 44, but no 42. That was definitely odd.
Was it a prank? She couldn’t fathom why someone would want to do such a thing to her, but she couldn’t discount the idea either. Locke seemed so sincere and intense, though, that she decided not to worry about that. If it was a joke, it was a joke, but she would feel stupider if it was real and she didn’t check it out.
Now that she decided she was going to check it out, a certain nervousness took hold of her body, as if she had gotten her finger stuck in a very low-power electric socket. She had been blessed (or cursed, depending on how she felt at the moment) with thoughts of being bound and gagged for years now, and recognized the sensation. Fueled by anticipation, it was more intense than she had ever felt. She loved to indulge in fantasies where she was a detective, captured by criminals, kept in stringent restraint as their hostage. Often things became erotic – her criminals were always rather handsome and thought her quite lovely – and it depended on her mood whether she was a willing participant or if she had to be “forced”.
The afternoon and evening crawled. She spent a great deal of it deciding what to wear, which was rather tough given the lack of specifics from Locke. Natalie realized it probably wasn’t very formal, but she decided to try and look at least halfway decent. By the time she settled on a long-sleeve, tan cotton blouse with jeans and black boots, half of her closet was scattered across the floor of her bedroom.
Finally, it was close enough to 10 p.m. that she could get ready to leave. She told herself that she wanted to get there early, to scope things out and make sure that this invitation was on the level. While partially true, it also had a lot to do with the fact that she was doing nothing except sitting in front of the television, staring blankly at it while her imagination conjured up all sorts of scenarios – some good, some not so good. She simply couldn’t stand it any longer. Activity of any sort was preferable to her going out of her mind.
It took about 20 minutes to get to West Pioneer. She watched the numbers as she putted down the road, hoping there was a real number 40. As she had seen on Google, number 40 was a hair salon and number 44 was a Chinese restaurant, separated by a dimly-lit alley. The other side of the road was all odd numbers. She drove back and forth through the area three more times, going as slowly as she dared, but nothing suggested that number 42 was upstairs or a basement or anything like that.
Making a fourth pass, she was just starting to think how much of a waste of time this had been when she slammed on her brakes right in front of the alley. A small sign was attached to one of the buildings, but actually in the alley, so that anyone walking by would be unlikely to notice it. It didn’t help that the sign contained a rather cryptic message:
Natalie stared at the sign until a horn behind her prompted her to drive forward again. She parked a short distance away, marching back to the alleyway with determination. As she got closer, her confidence began to wane, to the point that she slowed her step and began to meander.
Well, I’m still 20 minutes early.
Time sped up and slowed down for her simultaneously. Each second, it seemed that time dragged out, but she somehow managed to cover the ground at a record pace. Finally, she reached the alley and turned down it, fear and anxiety coursing through her entire body.
A very large man, with what appeared to be muscular tree trunks for arms, stood at the only door. He watched her approach, but his face remained expressionless; Natalie couldn’t decide if that was a good sign or not. She flashed what she hoped was a disarming smile as she approached him.
“Hi. I’m, uh, my name is Natalie, and I’m here to see Locke. Oh! He gave me this.” She thrust the card out to the doorman, who studied it but did not attempt to take it. He looked her up and down, then to the card once more, and finally grunted a single syllable.
He then disappeared through the doorway.
Natalie remained in place, confusion overtaking her features, her hand still holding the card out like a statue. Lowering her arm, she glanced furtively up and down the alley, hoping no one had seen the odd exchange between her and the Incredible Mute Hulk.
Several minutes passed before Natalie saw the door swing open. Locke stood there, a smug yet pleased grin on his face. Natalie looked up at him, unsure of what to say, but Locke was talking before she had a chance to think of anything.
“Hi, Natalie. I’m not surprised that you came.”
Locke shook his head. “Really? Let’s not play this game. We both know exactly what I mean. Do you want to come in or not?”
She was a little embarrassed by his blatant refusal to entertain even the pretense of innocence that she desired, but she guessed she would have to live with that, at least for now.
“I do. At least I think I do. ”
“I understand that,” Locke said. “Nerves often get in our way when we try to learn about who we really are. But realize that your anxiety is caused by your past experiences and anticipation of what the future might bring. If you act and live in the present, you’ll see that there is no cause for worry.”
“What are you, a philosopher?”
“I’m a realist,” he responded. “If I sound like a philosopher, it’s because the unvarnished truth is a philosophy by which I strive to live. In any event, come in.”
He gestured for her to enter in front of him, and Natalie found herself in a small, dimly-lit foyer. The only feature besides the door on the far wall was a table with a few items on it.
“Now,” Locke was saying as she studied the minimalist surroundings. “Things happen a certain way here. There is no negotiation or complaining. If you choose not to participate or follow the requirements, you are free to leave. Understand?”
Natalie tried to appear confident, but the import of Locke’s message combined with his tone was intimidating. She nodded.
“I prefer verbal responses.”
Natalie shrugged her shoulders, unsure why it made a difference. “OK. I understand.”
“Good.” He turned to the table, grabbed two items, and stepped forward. “Now, raise your chin.” Natalie did as Locke directed, still unsure why she felt compelled to treat every word out of his mouth like an Executive Order from the White House. She saw a flash of orange and felt something cool, thick – and leather – secured in place around her throat. She drew in a sharp breath and felt her loins grow warm.
“Now,” Locke said, “your wrists, please.” Natalie held both hands out in front of her and started when he slapped one metal bracelet of a pair of handcuffs over her right wrist. It locked immediately and a wisp of – if not fear, at least concern – made an appearance in her mind.
“Handcuffs? I don’t know. This is going kinda quick.”
Locke’s eyes bored in on hers, locking them in place while his lips narrowed and his nostrils flared slightly. “I do know. What did I just say?”
“You said there was no negotiating or complaining. But –”
“And which of those words did you not fully understand?” He did not raise his voice, but the tenor of his question carried more weight than the loudest shout.
“I didn’t think so. Now, you have two options, and I believe you know what they are. Make a decision right now.”
Natalie glanced down at her wrists and then back at Locke. He looked like he didn’t give a shit what she did one way or the other, but he wasn’t interested in hearing her protests. She didn’t have much time.
I’m either about to do something wonderful or make the worst mistake of my life.
“I’m sorry. Please continue.”
Without bothering to respond, Locke spun her around until she faced away from him and captured her free wrist in his massive hand. Before she could react, Natalie heard a couple of clicks and her wrists were secured in place.
She managed to stop from yelling, “behind me?!” but not by much. A great deal of her freedom had just been taken away by a man she hardly knew, and that tiny flicker of concern suddenly grew exponentially.
Locke spun her once more so she faced him. He studied the young woman for several seconds as she tugged at the handcuffs, hoping to find some way to free herself. When she realized that the restraints were in place until someone else removed them, her consternation grew to the point that the first hints of panic registered. She didn’t want to cry but wasn’t sure she could hold back the tears.
“First of all, relax, OK?” The massive man’s facial features softened. “You have nothing to fear. You will be treated with the utmost courtesy and respect for the short time you are here tonight. No one will touch you in even a remotely sexual manner. So gather yourself.”
Natalie tried. Words were one thing, but she was handcuffed and collared in a small room, alone with a powerful man who could physically control her even without restraints. She had told no one of her plans tonight, so no one who cared about her knew her whereabouts. There were many possibilities, and none of them worked in her favor.
She tried to take a deep breath, finding that it helped. Yes, they were just words, but they carried greater import now that she was bound. If he had intentions to do her harm, he no longer had to bother trying to console her. If there was a problem, she reasoned (hoped), she would know it by now.
“I know.” Locke smiled. He had a charming and comforting smile, and Natalie felt even better for seeing it before he turned her to face the small mirror to show her the nearly blaze-orange collar around her neck. It was the most hideous color, and Natalie couldn’t help but cringe.
“It’s ugly,” Locke said, agreeing with her unspoken opinion, “but that’s for a reason. This clearly identifies you as an Applicant, meaning no one will touch you or treat you poorly tonight. If anyone makes the mistake of disobeying that collar…well, let’s just say I will only be the first one in a long line of members ripping that motherfucker apart.”
The tears retreated. It was becoming more and more clear that, despite the odd requirements of this club, her safety was important, even critical, to Locke. But, still…
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Please, and allow me to express my approval that you asked.”
Natalie nearly smiled at his answer – I did something right! – before proceeding. “You saw how nervous and upset I was getting. Why didn’t you tell me about what the collar meant before you put the handcuffs on me? It might have made me relax more.”
Now it was Locke’s turn to suppress a grin, but his was one of amusement. “Because I don’t need to give you a reason. I give an order, you comply. End of discussion. If my orders frighten or confuse you, tough shit. I can’t have you thinking that you can demand an explanation from me. Get it?”
Natalie considered his words. The idea was so foreign to her that it took a second for her to wrap her brain around it. You don’t have the right to question what I tell you to do. She blinked several times, realizing that, if nothing else, she was about to enter into a whole new paradigm of behavior.
“I get it, although I have to admit that the idea shocks me.”
“It shocks all the Applicants. Consider it your first object lesson.” He clipped a leash to a ring in the front of her collar and pulled towards the door. “Let’s go. Keep up.”
It must have been soundproof, because the second it opened a crack, a cacophony of noise reached her ears. It wasn’t deafening, but it was the sound of many people engaged in a social event. The room was brighter than where they had just come from, but it still had a soft glow of light that suggested and encouraged intimate mingling.
As she was led along, heads turned to see the new girl. She tried to ignore them, but her curiosity overwhelmed her embarrassment, so she studied them out of the corner of her eye as she passed. Overcoming her embarrassment, she started focusing on the people surrounding the tables as she crossed the room.
The men were all dressed very similarly; not quite in uniform, but jeans, black or white t-shirts, and black engineer boots were definitely the order of the day. They all shared the same MoBMC vest, though, even Locke. And even the smallest men among them was solidly built and carried himself with a confidence that only membership in a very exclusive club could bring. Most of them had at least one woman nearby; in some cases, the women were lashed to the table or a hook from the ceiling or to their man.
The women were more diverse and more interesting. Their attire varied wildly; some were dressed like the men in denim and leather. Some wore tight corsets, or leather gloves that went up past their elbows. Some even wore lingerie of varying degrees. To add to the complexity, almost all of them were restrained in some way or another. Like the clothing they wore, no two were tied in the same fashion. A few had only their hands cuffed in front of them. Not surprisingly, these were the women that interacted the most with others. But while some women moved freely and easily, many others were strictly bound, their legs hobbled, gags stuffed into their mouths.
They all shared one things, however; collars. The collars themselves varied in thickness, but not a single woman was without. They were all dark brown or black, contrasting sharply with Natalie’s.
As they waded through the knots of people, Locke stopped every few feet to shake a couple of hands. The first time he did so, Natalie kept walking until she stood right behind him, instead of maintaining the roughly four-foot gap that the leash seemed to dictate. A simple glare from Locke fixed that rapidly, and Natalie learned that she did not warrant an introduction. So, she stood in place, detached from each tiny group, twisting her wrists gently against the cuffs out of reflex. She noticed that the people that walked by her made sure that they did not even brush against her slightly, even while they ran their eyes over her form in the most obvious manner.
Finally, after what seemed to be the most roundabout route possible, the two reached an open doorway. A trim woman with bright reddish hair and a pale complexion in her late 30’s sat in a simple straight-back chair at the entrance, as if guarding it. She rose to greet Locke eagerly when he approached. As they spoke, her eyes moved from him to Natalie several times. The woman kissed Locke on the cheek and then, to Natalie’s surprise, took the leash from Locke and led the bound woman a short distance away, out of earshot of everyone, with a huge smile on her face.
“Hello,” she said pleasantly. “I’m Blaze. It’s nice to meet you. Please feel free to speak openly to me.”
“OK, Blaze. My name is Natalie, and I have to say that you all have rather odd names here.”
“Yes, we have names that tend to represent our true selves here, rather than our given names. My smile, which you may have noticed, is rather bright and vibrant, and someone suggested that, combined with my red hair, it looked like I was on fire when I entered the club.” Her look sobered, but she retained a welcoming countenance. “In any case, I have a couple of quick questions for you before I give you back to Locke. I need you to answer them honestly. First, are you here willingly?”
“Yes. I agreed to come and I let Locke handcuff me.” It felt odd for Natalie to admit such a thing, but she sensed that was a key part of whatever protocol existed here, and it was reassuring.
“Very good. Now, do you understand, in general, what’s going on here tonight?”
“Tell me what you think.”
Natalie considered everything she had seen and heard so far. “As best I can guess, I’m here because Locke wants me to submit to him, and this is kind of like the interview.”
Blaze nodded. “That’s pretty close. Right now, you are at a decision point. You are about to meet our Senior Master. If you want, you can tell me you’d rather not and I’ll take your cuffs off right now and you can leave – forever.
“But, if you proceed and meet the Senior Master, you will stay here until he decides they have seen and heard everything about you that they need. That usually takes about an hour or two. Is that clear?”
“Yes, perfectly clear,” Natalie nodded. “Out of curiosity, what would happen if I decided that I’ve had enough and wanted to leave after I met the Senior Master?” She asked the question conversationally; she was naturally curious but didn’t want to make it sound like she would do such a thing.
“That depends on how you react. If you start yelling and screaming, you’ll be gagged. If you try to run, you’ll be hobbled. If you kick, you’ll be hogtied.”
Natalie’s eyes boggled. “You would do that?”
“In a second,” Blaze confirmed. “And it wouldn’t bother us a bit. We’ve done it many times before and wouldn’t bat an eye if we had to do it to you.”
Natalie nodded quickly. “Well, then I’m glad I don’t plan to do that!”
“Even if we had to restrain you in such a fashion,” Blaze continued, “you would still be in no danger. Have you noticed how everyone has avoided touching you even slightly?”
“No one is here unwillingly. There are no prisoners or hostages.” She grinned fiendishly. “As a newbie, you are a mystery to us. We just don’t know your true intent, and we don’t want you saying you were held against your will or were touched inappropriately in any way.”
“But you have me tied up. Doesn’t that make it against my will automatically?”
“There is absolutely no law against tying a woman up if she agrees to it. You agreed to let Locke put those handcuffs on you, and we have that snippet of information on video. Of course, we’d never use that unless forced to defend ourselves.”
“But, wait a minute,” Natalie protested. “You just told me that I won’t be released, even if I want to be, after I meet the Senior Master!”
“I did?” Blaze said, furrowing her brow in exaggerated confusion. “I don’t recall saying such a thing, and I’m quite sure there is no video nor audio recording of that.”
Natalie got it then. They were making every effort to make sure she felt safe and, more importantly, stayed safe, but they were totally prepared to deal with a case of the morning-after regrets if it became necessary. And, with video of Natalie agreeing to be restrained, they had blackmail material. You screw with us, we take you down too. She nodded her head in admiration at the way they covered their asses.
“I fully understand, Blaze. Thank you for making things abundantly clear.”
“That’s what I do. Now, do you want to meet the Senior Master?”
Natalie paused once more, thinking about remaining here, in restraint, regardless of what she wanted. On the surface it sounded horrible and frightening, but her thin cotton panties had grown wetter and hotter each second she had been led about on the leash. The idea of her true captivity nearly caused her knees to buckle with excitement. She wasn’t going to turn back now.
“Yes, Blaze, I would love to meet him.”
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