Biker Bitch

I’ve always had this dream of ticking some big burly biker off. Only to have him follow me back to my house, overpower me, and take me to his MC clubhouse to be made into their biker bitch.

Having them take me out of my life and force me into service for any man they need me to. Just a person in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Story Request by @hakugrim
(Source: @thb671)

Had you paid attention to any common sense whatsoever, you would not have fucked with the big burly biker man. Never in a thousand years would you have imagined the size of the grudge that he would hold. The last thing that you expected, getting home roughly a week later, was to find that same biker sitting on your couch, shirt off, a lopsided smirk on his face.

You start screaming for him to get out, to stay away from you, but he moves faster than you think is humanly possible. He grabs you by the shoulders and presses you against his chest. He shoves your face into his armpit and tells you to breathe in. You resist, but with every moment that passes, your lungs burn from the lack of oxygen.

You try and break free of his grip, but he’s strong. Unreasonably strong. Eventually, you have no choice but to take a breath. The earthy, masculine musk is intoxicating and overpowering all at the same time and it overcomes your senses, plunging you into unconsciousness. The last thing that you remember is your entire body going limp in your assailant’s arm.


When you come to, you’re strapped down to something, and the smell of latex and gasoline is right there in your nose. The next thing that you notice is that you’re naked, and that your legs are spread, your ass pushed up in the air and exposed for anyone to see. You are blindfolded, but that doesn’t change the fact that you can hear people around you chuckling and jeering at your expense.

Slowly you come to the realization that you’re strapped down to a motorcycle, and that the men around you are most likely the biker’s buddies. You have no idea where you are, and you are petrified by fear, but you don’t quite feel terror until you feel someone mount the bike behind you, a hard cock pressing up between your cheeks, rubbing up and down against your puckered asshole.

You moan and grunt and plead, asking them to let you go, but another biker comes over near your head and shoves your nose up into his armpit. The intoxicating, addictive musk addles your brain just enough that you forget all about your fear. The only thing that you can feel is arousal and a desperate need. You moan out loud, but this time out of pleasure rather than pain as the cock sinks into you.

He fucks you without mercy, and you like it. You buck your hips back into his every thrust. You beg him to fill you up, and he does, eventually. When he pulls out and you feel the cum trickling out of your hole and down your thighs, you get another hit of powerful musk. You beg for another cock. Before long that’s all that you can think of.

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