Chapter 1

Only street lights glimmered in the dismal dusk - the shops in the precinct had closed. Just a couple of people were on their way home, head down, ignoring her. Shit, she’d left her coat, on the coat rack. Shit. It was a good coat too, and went with her boots, but she wasn’t going back in for it! Even in this cold drizzle.

She got her phone out of her bag ... oh she’d missed the bus. Shit again! She couldn’t call her parents for a lift: she just knew as soon as her mum or dad asked why, she’d start and that’d be hard to explain.

Her village was four miles away - that was only an hour to walk wasn’t it, and perhaps she’d look fairly normal by then, or she could get in and straight up to her room to wash her face and change before she had to see anyone.

She texted her mum that she’d met some friends and would be home in a bit.

She began walking, away from him and the lights that let anyone see her. Luckily there wasn’t much wind, but with this stupid skirt and no panties she still didn’t want to meet anybody! And what must she look like??

It was cold and getting a bit dark and drizzling harder, but there weren’t too many cars at least and she could still see where she was going. She walked fast, trying to get warm and still thinking about it. That was what they said wasn’t it: don’t bury it.

Fancy orgasming like that. Anyone looking at that video would think she loved being tied into a chair and fucked by weird gadgets and various fake cocks. Cumming! It was lucky he hadn’t wanted to actually fuck her anyway - just get her off and spray goo all over her tits ... even while he was still going on and on about her body and eyes and face and hair and skin ... and how many times...

Shit. Why had she ever fallen for it? That chair, with the extra bits on it, and straps even ... she should’ve just turned round and walked straight out! Her teeth were perfect anyway, people even said so.

She was about halfway to her village, out in the country, walking fast trying to warm up, getting wetter and wetter, when there were headlights coming up behind her; and then engine noise. There was no gateway near, but she had time to step up onto the verge and keep looking away while the bright lights roared past in a cacophony of throbbing and snarling engines. Bikers.

The noise changed and they were slowing down! Christ. Her heart sank as they went a hundred metres past with their brake lights on, turned round and came back, more slowly. She stepped back down onto the road so at least they wouldn’t get quite such a look up her legs. Shit. There wasn’t even time to call the police or anyone.

There was enough light to see they were in black leathers or denim jackets, with badges and studs all over. Six of them, with visors that hid their eyes. Some of them were big, but anyway they were all bigger than her obviously.

They stopped their bikes all around her, not caring they were blocking half the road, and switched off their engines. In the sudden silence the one who was nearest, one of the biggest, got off his bike. His headlight was shining at her, lighting her legs. She knew she looked soaked and bedraggled, on her own and probably just like a freshly de-virginised schoolgirl. A draught of air blew up her skirt.

The biker tugged off his helmet as he came up to her. He had long hair, but he was older than she’d expected. “What are you doing out here?” he asked. “With no coat.”

“N ... Nothing!” she stuttered. “I mean ... I’m going home.”

“Yes but why are you walking? On your own and without a coat, in the dark?”

“I missed the bus.”

“Don’t you have someone you can call?”

“Well ... yes, but...” There was, but there wasn’t.

“Do you have parents? Haven’t you called them to come and get you? Wouldn’t they come?”

“It’s not their fault. I ... I...”

It was too much. She was freezing cold, in the middle of nowhere. She was caught by a biker gang, with no panties, and apparently she was slim, slender, lithe and lissom, just ready, and made to be fucked.

She broke down and cried. There was nothing she could do.

Now he was grabbing her! He pulled her effortlessly to his big, strong body. “Dan,” he growled. “Jacket.”

Next thing he was putting a leather jacket on her, tucking her hair inside it even. Presumably so it wouldn’t be so obvious he’d got a girl. “We’re taking you home,” he told her, “but first we’re going to our clubhouse, get you warmed up and find out why you’re out here like this. Get on.” He picked her up under her arms - right up! - and literally hoisted her onto the back of his great big bike, then got on in front of her.

All she could do was hold onto him while he started the engine and drove off with her. Well, she had to hold on with only one hand, so she could use the other one to try and stop her skirt blowing up around her waist and exposing her completely!

The wind ate her legs while the gang took her back into town, to their hideout. She’d just have to put up with it and hope it was at least somewhere warm, and they’d take her home when they’d finished with her. Somehow she wasn’t really sore at least, yet, so hopefully she’d survive it.

In a few minutes the gang pulled into the drive of a house on an estate on the outskirts of the town. It was just an ordinary semi-detached house, with a wide garage door that was opening. It opened into a big garage, obviously so all six gangbangers could just ride straight in with their girl of the day. There was a blue-painted concrete area for the bikes and tools, and beyond that was an extended room that had sofas and carpet and a big TV.

The gang drove in with her and switched off their echoing engines. The door closed, shutting her in with them. Hopefully they wouldn’t each want to do it for too long, or too many times.

Her driver got off and she tried to work out how to get off too, without showing everything to them. They were all looking at her. They were all old, like forty, but not fat at least. She leaned all the way forwards towards the handlebars, until she was lying flat on the bike nearly, raised her left leg flat as well, behind her, and kind of slithered off while she got it across. She got both feet down and stood there, smoothing her skirt down, as much as she could, and shivering.

A door opened on the side wall and a woman came in. “Back already?” she asked. “I said it was too wet. Oh, who’s this?” She was plump, and her mum’s age or a bit more.

“She was on the side of the road,” answered her biker. He was shepherding Hannah towards the woman. “On her own and crying. She needs warming up.”

“Oh my dear!” the woman was coming over, “come through and we’ll get you sorted out. Oh you are freezing and soaking wet! Come on, what are we going to do...”

Hannah was ushered through the door, into the kitchen. It was an ordinary kitchen with worktop and a fridge with magnets and a sink and hob and a table. The woman was feeling her arms and hair and the sides of her tummy.

“Now don’t you worry,” the woman was saying. “Whatever’s happened? What about your parents? Will they be worrying about you?”

“No I said I met up with some friends.”

“Said? What actually happened? ... Well never mind let’s get you warmed up first. Let’s get you out of these wet things and dry, they can go in the dryer.”

Well it was no surprise she was going to end up with no clothes on again. She stood there while the woman went off down a short corridor and called up the stairs: “Daiseeee! Come down please we need you.”

There was the sound of a door, then footsteps, coming down the stairs, and a girl was following the woman back into the kitchen.

“This is Daisy,” the woman introduced her. Hannah recognised her from school, though she was a couple of years above so she hadn’t actually talked to her. Daisy smiled at least. She must be a daughter.