Excerpt - Bound by Bikers

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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:

MoBMC 42

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.”

“Why not?”

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.

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Written by J.M. Sauvage
Hochgeladen September 12, 2021
Notes When Natalie meets Locke at a store for leather clothing, he invited her to his club where she can indulge her interest in leather, bondage, and submission.

Conflicted but intrigued, she goes to the club and agrees to be restrained, collared, and leashed by Locke - but only to see what's going on. While fearful, she is aroused by this simple introduction to a new lifestyle.
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