2 comments/ 19263 views/ 3 favorites A First By: A First "Such a good little girl." He whispered in my ear. "You fucking..." I started, pushing up from the seat. He pushed me back, laughing. He was straddling the seat, facing me. He grabbed my wrists and pushed them behind me. He looked over my shoulder and nodded. "What the fuck?" I started, trying to pull my hands back. I felt another pair of hands grab my arms, pulling them tight behind the bar. Cold metal wrapped around my wrists and an all too familiar ratcheting noise followed. My mouth went dry as I stared at the man before me. His grin was too harsh, his eyes too dark, his body too large. I felt like so much meat just waiting to be devoured; prey to be hunted and taken down in the hunt. My brain fought for a foothold in this twisted reality. My body reacted quite differently. My pulse was too loud, my heartbeat drummed in my ears. I felt wet, hot, and wanting. I wanted this. Beyond every ounce of logic, every bit of intellect, every bit of common sense, I wanted it. The man who had handcuffed me was suddenly beside the bike and another stood on the other side. They watched the owner as the owner watched me. He nodded once and they each grabbed an ankle and pulled down. I yanked back instinctively, kicking out. They were strong, I wasn't. My ankles were each shackled, the metal bracelets wrapped around the leather of my boots. Each shackle had a length of chain that was then locked to an eyebolt attached to the floor on either side of the bike. The owner was still before me, sitting, facing me on the seat of the bike. His smile was unnerving. His eyes looked hungry. I should be fighting; should be screaming to be let loose. I wasn't able to speak. My body was winning against my brain in this battle. "I told you." He whispered, leaning in close. "We know how to handle hot little sluts around here." His hand found the crotch of my jeans. He rubbed me hard, pressing his palm against my mound as his fingers slid over my sex. "You see." He whispered, grinning. "I knew you wanted it. You're soaked clean through your Levi's. You're just a good little slut that needs a fix aren't you?" I refused to look away from him. I was shaking, unable to speak. "Answer me." He said, his hand grabbing my breast hard. "Tell me what a slut you are. Tell me how bad you need it." "Yes." I managed my voice cracking. "Not good enough, slut." He said, squeezing harder. "Yes." I answered. "I'm a slut and I need it." His grip loosened a little. He pulled back smiling. He looked at the man standing next to the bike and nodded slightly. He put his hand out. The man reached behind him and I heard the distinctive sound of a blade being unsheathed. I bolted forward, my arms pulling at the cuffs. I kicked violently trying to reclaim my ankles. He pushed me back into the seat, leaning forward, his body pressed against mine, holding me in place. "Don't worry." He whispered. "This won't hurt you." He grabbed my shirt, yanking it from the waistband of my jeans. The blade hardly made a noise as it slid through the soft fabric, leaving a clean slice in its wake. He watched my face, enjoying watching me squirm as he decimated my blouse. "Be still slut." He said laughing. "I wouldn't want to slip." I lay still, my back arching to broaden the space between my body and the blade. My head was spinning, fear and wanting fighting within me. He made quick work of the fabric, cutting the sleeves next and pulling the fabric from my body. He eyed me as he slipped the blade beneath the fabric of my bra next, easily slicing the fabric between my breasts first, then cutting away the straps. "Why don't you make this slut a little more comfy, boys." He said, looking at the men standing on either side of me. One of the men walked behind the bike as I strained to see what he was doing. I felt the bar being pulled back, my body leaning with it. The back end of the seat rose up, taking me with it until I was laid back, my back arched upward and my hips thrust forward. His hands were on me, rubbing the crotch of my jeans, sliding up my stomach. He cupped a breast with each hand and pinched my nipples hard, rolling them between thumb and forefinger. "Get our little slut a drink." He said to no one in particular. "She looks a little thirsty." As one of the men left to get the drink he brought the knife out again and went to work on my jeans. He began cutting mid thigh and worked his way around the fabric expertly. When he was finished I may have well been wearing a pair of denim chaps; my sex and ass exposed. He was handed a bottle and leaned toward me, taking a drink. His mouth was on mine then, hot and foul with the taste of whiskey. He kissed me greedily, my tongue reacting immediately to the feel of his against my lips. I bit his lip hard and was rewarded with the rich coppery taste of blood on my tongue. He pulled back laughing. "Careful boys." He said, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. "This kitty's got claws." He held the bottle to my lips. When I tried to drink he pulled it back, smiling. He leaned in close, pressing the bottle to my lips again. "Show me how thirsty you are, slut." He whispered. "Show me how much you want it." He pushed the bottle into my mouth and pulled it back out, leaning back, watching me. His eyes were intent on my mouth as I realized what he wanted. I leaned forward, taking the neck of the bottle into my mouth, deep. As my lips slid back up I flicked my tongue over the end of the bottle, teasingly. He smiled. He was enjoying watching me, and god help me I was enjoying him watching me. He tipped the bottle back and the liquid streamed over my tongue. I choked when it hit the back of my throat and some of the whiskey spilled over my lips, running down my chin and onto my chest. He leaned forward, licking the foul brew from my skin. His mouth was hot in comparison to the cool liquid. He licked my breasts, nipping at my nipples. He bit down hard making me cry out. "Payback's a bitch." I thought to myself. I could hear his muffled laughter as he mauled my breast with his mouth. I closed my eyes, feeling the blood rush through my veins. His tongue flicked over my nipples hard and fast. My body was on fire and I wanted more. He lifted the bottle to my lips again, teasing me. I leaned forward, knowing now what I had to do to get a drink. I took the neck of the bottle deep into my mouth, caressing it with my lips and tongue until he tipped it back, rewarding me. "You are a good slut." He whispered. "You want it bad, don't you?" "Yes." I answered, meeting his gaze. He ran his hand down my body, coming to rest on my mound. I arched against him, wanting him to touch me. He watched me, his eyes holding mine as he slid his hand lower. His fingertips brushed over my clit and slid between my lips. He thrust his fingers into me, deep and hard. I closed my eyes as he dove into me. "Open your eyes." He whispered. "Look at me." I looked at him. His eyes were dark, but there was a hint of a smile as he watched me. His fingers slid over my clit, rubbing, and pinching. My breath came faster as I felt myself responding to his touch. "What do you want, slut?" he whispered. "More." I said, breathlessly. "Tell me." He said, driving his fingers into me hard. "I want you to fuck me." I said. He slipped the bottle into my mouth and I performed for him until he tipped it up to fill my mouth. When I was finished he lowered the bottle, his eyes never leaving mine. His fingers found my lips. They were wet with my juices as he slipped them into my mouth. I sucked and licked them clean. The taste, mixed with the whiskey was cloying; sweet, salty, and heavy with a scent of musk. He slid his fingers in and out of my mouth. I felt something hard at my sex and pulled back. It was cold. When he smiled I realized it was the bottle. He slipped the neck into me; the hardness parting my lips, filling my sex. He continued to busy my mouth with his fingers as he fucked me with the bottle, whiskey sloshing as he pushed harder and deeper into me. He never took his eyes from mine. He fucked me faster. The whiskey spilled into me, burning the sensitive skin. The pain was bearable considering the pleasure that it accompanied. When he stopped I nearly whimpered. "Who wants a drink?" He asked, looking up at the men standing by. They both smiled and stepped forward without a word. I got the feeling that this wasn't new to them. They had played this game plenty of times before. My tormentor slipped a leg over the seat, making room as the first man leaned in. He parted my legs, and buried his face in my sex, roughly. His tongue slid over me. The owner brought the bottle up and poured a slow, steady stream over my pussy as the other licked and sucked it from me. The liquid was hot and burning as it slid over me. By the time the second guest had taken his fill I was sore from the liquid and their rough tongues. The owner grabbed a drink glass from one of the tables and reclaimed his seat in front of me, straddling the bike's seat. He pulled an ice cube from the glass and touched it to my lips. I sucked at it. It was water, pure and refreshing after the heat of the whiskey. He let me enjoy it for a minute more before he slid the cube down over my chin. He teased each nipple in turn, the cold making them rigid before he brought his hot mouth to them in turn. "What do you want, slut?" he whispered again "Fuck me." I said without hesitation. He passed the drink off and his hands went his jeans. He didn't hesitate as he loosed his cock and parted my legs. Without being asked, the two men grabbed a leg each and spread me wide, pulling me up. The owner smiled down at me, rubbing his cock against my sex. He teased me with the head before pulling back, sliding it between my lips and over my clit as he watched my reaction. He pulled my lips wide, exposing my clit. It was hard and swollen. I could feel the throbbing as I silently pleaded for him to release me. His hard cock smacked against me making me jump. He laughed and rubbed his cock over my clit. Again I felt the smack of his hard sex against me. He smacked me again and again, my clit swollen and throbbing. He slid his cock into me and drove in hard. I moaned loudly as it filled me up. He ground himself against me, rubbing against my clit as he pounded me with his cock. My body was wracked with pleasure, with pain, with wanting. I was so close. My thighs were shaking and I could feel jolts of electricity shooting from every nerve in my body. I moaned and bucked against him as he steadily thrust into me. And then he stopped with a suddenness that left me with nothing, empty. I screamed out something unintelligible. The men lowered me back down. The owner slipped his leg over the seat. They walked away, and left me there. "What the hell is this?" I thought. I wanted to scream at him to finish what he started. They went back to the bar and picked up their drinks, ignoring me. I stared, dumbfounded. "I told them that I didn't want you to cum until I was ready." His voice was soft. His accent was as clear as I remembered. As his hand slid down my skin I saw the tattoo. I didn't know if I wanted to fuck him or kill him. "Your late, Geoff." I said "Nope." He whispered; his mouth against my ear. "I'm right on time." His hand found my sex, his fingers slipping between my lips, rubbing against me gently. I moaned with pleasure as he teased my clit, sending waves of pleasure through me. "What do you want, Andrea?" he whispered. "I want you, Geoff." I answered. "Do you need to cum?" he asked me. "Yes. Yes, please." I said, hopeful. He didn't waste any time. His fingers squeezed and rubbed my clit hard and fast until I started to shake from the pleasure. The first wave ripped through me leaving me breathless. He slowed his movements, softly working my sensitive clit until I was feeling the ripples of the first slide over me. My body trembled with each touch. It seemed to go on forever. When he finally stopped I collapsed, wrung out and exhausted. "I'm going to let you sleep for a while, Andrea." He whispered as I began to drift off. "Okay." was all that I could manage.