by H. J. Bellus
Did I just envision molesting my captor? The man who holds the power to rip all my dreams away? I just took fucked in the head to an all-new level with that one.
Without thinking, I hopelessly whisper one more time, “Please.”
He turns around to face me, still completely naked and fully irritated.
“Did you just fucking speak again?”
“Please let me go. Please.”
“How about this? I just jerked off in the shower. If you can get me to go in that sweet little mouth of yours, I’ll set you free right now tonight.”
“Deal,” I scream, and try to sit up on the bed without the balance of my hands.
He looks shocked that I would so willingly accept his dirty proposition. Clearly he has no idea of how low I will shoot for what I want. He steps closer, and I finally realize just how fucking gorgeous the asshole is. Easily over six feet tall, muscular, and a light smattering of fine hair leading down to his dick, for some strange fucked-up reason he instantly made me wet and eager to get this job done.
“My hands. I need to use them,” I whimper.
“Not a fucking chance. I was born at night, but not last night, and I don’t need those little red claws of yours tearing into my nut sacks.”
“Fine,” I spat.
“Fine. Get to sucking,” he counters.
When he steps closer, I can finally decipher the tattoo covering his lower abdomen, “Grizz.”
“Grizz,” I whisper.
“What?”
“I want to be let go.”
“Suck my cock, bitch.”
Spreading my legs wide enough for him to step in closer, I open my mouth and allow him to enter. He wastes no time thrusting his large, now erect cock into my mouth. I’m not sure if it’s the adrenaline of having his captive suck him off, or if he’s one of those continually horny men. Either way, it’s now my mission to make him explode in my mouth.
I close down around his very thick cock and begin my work. He tastes delicious in my mouth, and I find it strangely odd. The veins in his shaft begin to bulge and I can feel him start to pulse in my mouth, so I add a light scrape of my teeth to his skin. He must like it because he winds a chunk of my hair in his fist, and begins to pound my head into him. His excitement and pending release mingle in the air, and I start to squirm underneath him.
“Holy fuck,” he breathes.
The deep tone of his voice makes me fall closer to my own release, only if his hands were on me or in me I would be spiraling out of control with him. I feel a little release of pre-cum and know he’s only moments away from the full orgasm in my mouth that has the power to set me free.
With one final long deep stroke of his cock bouncing off the back of my throat, I anticipate his hot seed shooting into my mouth. His cock jerks, I moan and bite down on him, helping him find his release. Instead of hot cum coating my throat, I feel his dick leave my mouth and then the spray of hot cum all over my face.
“Holy shit. Mmmmmm,” he groans.
I blink once, wondering why he pulled out, and then blink again when full realization throttles me in the fucking gut.
“You fucking prick. I hate you. Let me go,” I demand.
“I jerked myself off, you just helped me get there. You lost the bet, and you will stay tied up and property of Iron Sinners. Girl, you can suck a cock like no other.”
“Fuck you,” I scream as I start to kick my feet at him.
I catch him off guard and nail him straight in the nuts. I don’t stop at one kick, but continue flailing around, landing as many kicks as possible. That stupid son of a bitch is going to pay for this.
“You cunt,” he hisses, and throws me back on the bed.
“Let me go.”
“You ain’t nothing but a whore dressed in a fancy business suit. You don’t get that good at sucking cock by just sucking the occasional boyfriend or two.”
“I hate you. You just made me lose everything. Imagine burning down somebody’s house with their family inside it and making them watch as their bodies burn. You’ve just done the same thing to me, asshole. I’m losing everything at nine a.m. because you won’t let me go.”
“Get over yourself, princess, and shut the fuck up for the final time,” he finishes, as he pulls on his boxers and lies next to me.
Chapter 4
Piper
I awake with a clean face, but in a very dizzy state of mind. The last thing I remember is the strange man, I think his name is Grizz, pulling on his boxers, and leaving me covered in his semen. My face is now fresh and I feel clean. I try to sit up, but soon realize my hands are still tied behind my back. Rolling over, I notice my captor is asleep by my side, but so is a blonde haired woman. Sitting up, I see the bed next to us littered with naked female bodies, and one male body.
Looks like I slept straight through the all night orgasm express courtesy of biker central. Fuck, these men are pigs. I notice the time on the clock, 9:54 a.m., and I die on the inside. I missed the meeting, standing up Sam for the biggest signing of my career. Complete career suicide.
The man I call Grizz stirs awake and shoves the blonde off him. She rolls over and lands on me.
“Get the fuck out,” he roars as he gets up from the bed.
“Grizzy, you said you wanted me last night,” the blonde whispers as she makes her way to him.
“Get the fuck out. All of you motherfucking bitches, get the fuck out now,” he says.
The twat club finally gets the clue and exits the room.
“Get the fuck up, Animal. Mayor wants our asses back to the club house, and we have a six hour drive ahead of us,” Grizz roars as he exits the bathroom.
The other biker, Animal, just growls as he tries to get up, and I realize that any attempt to escape or beg is worthless because my time has expired. I’m as good as dead now. All for a fucking celebratory doughnut.
Dizzy. Light-headed. Black again.
Four hours later…I awake to the back seat of a truck, lying still tied up and bouncing around like a sack of spuds. I guess it could be worse, like gravesite bad, six feet down and dark.
“You still alive?” the strange one asks.
“Fuck you,” I whisper.
“Yeah, she’s alive, Grizz. You’re telling me she sucked your cock last night? I don’t believe that shit. Man, the fucking blonde last night was fucking you like a porn star, I about blew my fucking load, watching her ride you—”
“Shut the fuck up,” Grizz grumbles.
The truck comes to a complete stop, and I can only imagine that they are either going to bury me alive or stop for a piss, or hell with these fuckers, maybe they’re stopping for pussy.
The familiar biker steps out and releases the front seat, so he’s standing at my head.
“Hey, do you need to do something with your meds?” he asks with genuine concern on his face.
I simply nod my head without giving him a word. Clearly, he’s a pro at taking pissed off signals from women because he throws my bag at me and cuts the ties from my hands.
“Try to run, bitch, and I’ll let Animal here fuck you in the ass,” he says, as he slams the truck door shut.
“I love a good tight ass,” Animal replies from the front seat.
I refuse to take their bait and just check my blood sugar. It truly is a miracle that I came back to reality with such high sugar levels and all my dreams crushed. I guess this is the time a normal person would thank Jesus for their fortunes. Instead, I curse the wills of the world that always keep me hanging on by a thread. Sometimes I think a swift bullet to the head or a quick slit of the throat would be the optimal route to travel. Nope, instead I’m forever and always caught in the fucking smack dab center of mediocre, when all I want is to dominate a piece of the world.
You know, the inevitable shit foolish mothers dream of when their little girls are born. Success, family, the SUV, picket fence, and obtaining a stellar image to show off for the neighbors. What fucking fools they all are. Two thi
ngs always end up happening. Either a man comes along and destroys their hopes and dreams, or society warps those dreams into a predictable, fucked up fairy tale.
Maybe lying down and dying is the only way to exit this world as we know it. In this moment, I choose surrendering by waving the white flag. All of my momma’s attempts to make my life a normal one clearly were made in vain. Fuck you, world, and definitely fuck you, biker man with the gorgeous cock and delicious abs. Go to fucking hell.
I let the darkness win again and die for the time being. Good-bye world as I once knew it.
***
“Is she dead?”
“Dude, her fucking boobs are rising up and down. I’m no fucking medic, but pretty sure that means she is breathing.”
“Fuck you, Digger. I just thought maybe she was, you know, ready to go.”
“Dude, Bonez, you are a fucking moron. Grab her legs. I got her head.”
I float from the truck to a nice, soft comfy bed, while listening to the two most uneducated fucks I’ve ever heard argue over my state of health.
Black again by the sheer will of my desire to die, because being average was never an option. Sometimes, I wonder why certain people act the way they do, and now in this state of hopelessness and despair, I realize that everyone is programmed to be a certain way and tick to that beat of life. I have fought tooth and nail my whole life to beat that programming and destiny, but have only ended up finding myself right back in the middle of my personal hell. I mean, who really works years to advance to the top of their career to only have it all ruined in one night.
***
“Sweetie, open your eyes,” a sweet voice tickles my ears. Finally, a female voice, “Can you hear me, darling?” I hear her again.
I find the strength to flutter my eyelids. I want her to save me.
“That a girl,” she coos.
Opening my eyes, I take in the surroundings and realize that I’m lying in a room that belongs to a very horny male, from all the poster of naked women draping the walls. When my eyes finally focus in on the dark haired beauty before me, I realize she’s been assigned one job and that is to take care of me.
“Hey, Piper,” she says. Her voice is seemingly sweet and innocent, yet strangely comforts me at the same time.
“Hey,” I try to whisper back.
“My name is Mayley. I’m going to check your blood sugar, sweets.” She announces.
I can only assume she’s laughing at her own joke of sugar and sweets, fucking corny. I roll my eyes, but as long as she’s offering to take care of me, I’ll lie here and let her.
“Do you remember anything?” she asks.
To this question, I muster up all the strength and energy I can find, and let her have it. “Yeah, some fucking asshole kidnapped me in an alley, then promised me freedom if I sucked him off. I did and the cocksucker went back on his promise. He stole everything from me and I hate him. I want to cut his nuts off and hang them from my rearview mirror. So, guess what, sweets? Fuck off, bitch.”
A needle pokes me and then I hear him again.
“Is she okay, Mayley?”
Sitting straight up in my bed, I holler back at the dickhead, “You really care about me now after you ruined everything in my life worth living for? Fuck off.”
I hear the sweet Mayley say, “She’s all yours, and her blood sugar should be good for the next few hours.”
Everything inside me wants to thank her because in all honesty, she’s the sweetest person I have met in a long time, but my fighting ‘fuck you’ side rears its ugly head and squashes that weak, pathetic individual. I roll over to face the poster of a naked blonde straddling a very large black motorcycle. I feel the bed dip, as I can only assume someone is climbing in bed with me.
“Tomorrow, we’ll go to my cabin where you’ll stay until it’s safe. As soon as it’s safe, I’ll let you go.”
“Fuck you,” I gently whisper as I will myself to sleep.
“I am sorry, Piper. Just wrong place, wrong time, baby.”
“You mean nothing to me, so your apology is simply worthless.”
A heavy, yet strong hand settles on my midsection, which creates a tender sensation within me. I discover all my fight has vanished and I allow him to comfort me back to sleep. With the odd mixture of his touch, my panic, and the desire to let go of all control, I find myself drifting back to my ever-comforting scene of endless darkness.
Before I fully drift off, I whisper, “Tell me your name…”
“Grizz.”
***
Grizz
“What the fuck have I gotten myself into?” I whisper to the sleeping Piper in my dark room.
I never should have looked at her driver’s license or let her lips touch my cock. I, for one, have never believed in black magic or spells, but now I find myself wondering who the fuck is playing this sick joke on me. It took everything I had the first night with her not to sink deep into her while she slept. Then the six-hour drive to the clubhouse was even worse torture. I wanted to watch her sleep every second of the drive, like some lovesick fool.
This shit is too fucking messed up. I need to clear my head and the club is the perfect place to do that. Pussy, alcohol, a little more pussy, and then repeat should do the trick.
***
One Week Later
This small room is my personal jail cell. It is the same as being held prisoner in the county jail. We spent the one night at the Iron Sinners’ clubhouse located on the outskirts of town. Clubhouse sounds very fancy for an abandoned warehouse that has been converted into a big boys’ playland complete with a bar, pool tables, and rooms. There’s also a space off to the side of the warehouse where the club runs an automotive garage.
That night was the last night Grizz touched me. In the weirdest way, I want his hands on me again, holding me. He is the sole reason I lost everything, but there’s just something about him that is so intriguing and comforting. I simply want him, but am too damn stubborn to give him a hint that I want him.
The morning after we woke up in the clubhouse, Mayley gave me the grand tour and educated me on the ways of the MC world. By the end of the morning with her, I had apologized and truly fell in love with her. Mayley is the typical type of woman that I would spit on before. Dumb, naïve, and submissive as hell to the other sex, but that morning I developed a rare respect for her. She loved herself and loved everything about her lifestyle, and that was clearly evident by the way she carried herself around the club.
Mayley is apparently the old lady of Titan, and a registered nurse. She stockpiled me with a bunch of insulin and blood testing kits. I even overheard her teaching Grizz how to administer my insulin, and even taught him how to use my epi-pen for my severe allergic reaction to nuts and other emergency kit items. Unlike other bikers, who had their feet kicked up on the table drinking beer at ten o’clock in the morning, Grizz was actually being very attentive.
Thank god he’s not had to help with any of it the last seven days. In fact, I’ve seen very little of him. I keep myself locked in my room, and he leaves the house all the time. Imagine my excitement the first morning I heard his motorcycle roar to life. I pulled back the curtain and watched him glide down his long lane lined with trees. I grabbed my purse, and made a run for it only to slam into the chest of another biker on the porch, Digger.
He’s my babysitter while Grizz works through the day and most of the night. Digger doesn’t talk or smile. He does growl every once in awhile. I started feeding him on the second day when I prepped meals for myself. Mayley must have also educated Digger on my dietary needs because every day he brings bags of meat, fruits, and vegetables. Thank the lord he does because Grizz doesn’t have shit in his house for food.
The house is simple and average in size. By looking out the window, I can tell it’s located in a very remote part of the world. There’s nothing but pine trees for miles and miles. There is a beautiful, clear, opened field in front of his house filled with gorgeous wildflowe
rs and tall grass. In fact, if I had to guess, we’re smack dab in the middle of the mountains.
Grizz only has a black truck, his bike, and his dog, Chrome. Chrome is the biggest Great Dane I have ever seen. If I were to meet him in a dark alley I would definitely shit my pants and then run to safety. He’s one of the toughest, meanest, yet gentlest dogs I have ever met, kind of like his owner. Ever since that disastrous night we met, Grizz has been nothing but non-existent and mild.
He simply told me this place use to be his Gram’s, and he inherited it when she passed. Chrome and his bike are the only things he will ever love and to stay the fuck out his business.
Not another word has been spoken.
“What did Mayley send for food today?” I ask Digger.
I am bound and determined to get this brute of a man to speak to me. He just shrugs his shoulders, shoves the bag at me, and then takes his typical spot on the front porch.
I prepare a quick chicken salad, check my blood, and join Digger on the porch. I typically stay inside, more specifically, inside my bedroom with Chrome. That dog is the only thing that has kept me going. He’ll snuggle all day on the bed with me while I read the supermarket smut Mayley smuggled in the grocery bags. I fucking loathe fairytales, love stories, and mushy shit, so I find it quite ironic I spend my days reading that shit. As soon as Grizz walks in the door, I lose the companionship of Chrome, but I enjoy it while it lasts. That damn dog is loyal as hell to that asshole.
“Care for company?” I ask, and set his food down.
Digger just grunts.
“You know what, fucker? You’re going to talk to me, and I’m going to talk to you. I refuse to talk to the fucker who lives here. Now talk to me, asshole,” I demand, spitting my chicken salad everywhere.
“You shouldn’t be so hard on us,” Digger says, around a bite of food.
“Ha! Now that was supposed to be a joke, right?”
