The first motorbike was invented in 1885. Strangely, it was described as a means of personal transport; the idiots who determined that clearly hadn’t discovered its true calling. Thankfully, in our day, many have learned the heavenly joy of correctly using a motorbike; they’ve learned what it was actually invented for.
And they never forgot the euphoria.
— The Bunny’s Birthday —
I was led by a leash, blindfolded with red satin, through her house. With a little tug here and a little tug there, the Biker Chick pulled me from room to room. The smell of homemade cinnamon rolls, baked last night, still filled the house. We hadn’t eaten a single one before becoming too engrossed in other, louder, and more fun activities, a prelude to my birthday celebration.
I had only known this woman for a couple of months, yet she could effortlessly draw something out from deep within me. Something that both scared and excited me. Something primal and delicious. Something that I desperately craved in my life.
Cool air rushed past us as the Biker Chick opened another door. The soft carpets of her house were exchanged for cold, hard cement. Distant street noises, muffled by thin walls, teased my senses as the world outside continued unaware of the delights in store for me.
Just where exactly was this temptress leading me?
Her hand brushed along my hips as she stood close to me. My nipples protruded through my thin top, declaring to her my hopeful desire. Memories of the night before came rushing back as her fingernails traced along the small of my back. I remembered how she had handcuffed me and demanded I bring her to orgasm while, at the same time, she denied me my relief.
With a kiss, she removed the collar and leash that had led me through her house. Her hair flowed softly along my curves, tickling my goose-bump-covered skin. Across my neck, I could feel her warm breath as her tongue licked under my chin; my toes curled as I trembled with pleasure.
“Ready for your birthday present?” the Biker Chick moaned into my neck.
I quickly nodded and prayed to every deity under the sun that my present was to be devoured by a thousand of her tongues. Or maybe for my birthday, she would make me her personal test subject, locked in her sex dungeon, and used to explore all her deepest fantasies. I felt her delicate hand on my inner thigh, and I shuddered. Her fingers lightly rolled across my soft valley and deftly popped the top button of my shorts out.
“Strip,” she calmly commanded as she pulled her fingers away from me, leaving me desperate for more.
I slipped my thumbs under the waistband of my shorts, unzipped them, and let them fall to the Earth. My thong was next. I bent over, still blindfolded, and pulled them down. I blushed as the gusset stuck stubbornly to my already wet flower. The Biker Chick chuckled; the evidence of how she affected me was clear.
I could feel her eyes fixed on me, inspecting every quivering inch of me and deciding how she would ultimately claim me. Her lustful intent was palpable in the air as it caressed my soul.
Under her scrutiny, my fingers carelessly slipped between my soft folds; the petals were hot and wet now. She had been edging me all week, denying me the satisfaction I longed for time and time again—preparation for my birthday present, she had claimed. Divine torture, I exclaimed.
I pressed my fingers into my petals, sunk my teeth into my lips, and groaned. My fingers curled and pressed eagerly against that transcendent spot. It felt so good that I trembled even more than before. My thighs desperately hugged my hand as my fingers brought heaven into view. It was so difficult to remain standing. I wanted to give in—to surrender completely to my desires; no, to her desires. I wanted to fall to my knees and scream her name as my fingers plunged deep inside of me. I wanted to…
She cleared her throat and giggled, “You’ve got a strange way of stripping, haven’t you?”
I blushed crimson red as I quickly pulled my hands away and shook my head. My pussy complained. A part of me wondered what would have happened if I had carried on. Would she have allowed me to cum if I begged her? If I pleaded, would she have joined me with our bodies united in orgasmic bliss? If I had refused her command to stop and allowed mischief to rule, would she have pulled me over her lap and, with one spank at a time, taught me patience? My pussy cried out for attention.
While chewing the corner of my lips, my sticky fingers ran through my trimmed bush and up my tummy toward the top I had borrowed from the Biker Chick. It still smelled of her; it made me think of her, even lust for her. I pulled it over my head and shook my hair out. Did she like what she could see? Was she as aroused as I was? A foolish thought; no one could be. My toes caressed the top of my foot as I nervously unclasped my bra. Then I slid the bra down my slender shoulders, casting it aside.
I stood naked with nothing on but a blindfold and fishnet stockings that bore a few extra holes following the night before. Fidgeting before the sexy Biker Chick, I waited for whatever came next.
I melted into her touch as I felt her hand glide through my long hair. She pulled me close and enveloped me in her arms. My lips found hers. I could taste cherries on her luscious lips; they were soft and plump as they massaged my quivering lower lip. Oh, how I wished I could pause time and savor the moment for eternity and then some. The Biker Chick nibbled my lips and grasped my hair.
I couldn’t resist anymore; how could I? With a moan, I eagerly pressed my tongue between her warm lips, our tongues entwined. As the joy swelled inside me, my hands reached around her and squeezed her perfect leather-clad butt. She returned the kiss with equal passion. Her embrace seemed to me like the epitome of bliss. I stood meekly within her arms, wishing I was hers.
The Biker Chick pulled loose the blindfold around my eye. I blinked my eyes and glanced around the room. We were in her carefully organized garage with only a few keepsakes haphazardly kept in the corner and a few spanners still on the table. The Biker Chick drew my attention back to her as she pinched my chin. Her eyes were a striking blue that pierced my soul. It was almost as if she could divine all my secret desires and bring them to life before my eyes.
She stepped aside, revealing her pride and joy. A Harley Davidson, she had lovingly restored over the past few years and affectionately called her ‘Dragon.’ I remembered the first time I rode on the back of it after she caught me taking a selfie with her bike on the streets of Matlock. She smiled the sweetest of smiles as she invited me for a ride.
A ride I could never forget.
From the back seat of her bike, I held tightly to her supple body as she shifted through the gears, wind in our hair. Her Dragon growled down the streets as I pressed my body into her back. The sensation of the engine was… was enchanting. As I climbed off, I blushed so much. I was acutely aware of the dampness that had developed between my thighs; I could barely keep my hands still as we swapped numbers.
— What’s A Bunny Without Rope? —
And now, for my birthday, I stood in her garage, horny and desperate, wishing to blush once more.
The Biker Chick picked up some rope that hung from the wall and walked over to me. She could hypnotize me with the way her hips swayed with each step. While she had the body of an angel, she also had the mind of a demon. Perhaps more importantly, she had my heart. She wrapped the soft rope around my hips. My hands rested on her shoulders, and she held me close. So close, I could feel her gentle breathing.
The rope pinched my skin as she drew it tight.
Before meeting her, I never knew how delightful the touch of rope on the skin could be. The faint marks that rope would leave along my skin afterwards always made me want more.
She looped the rope around my hips and thighs. Her nails grazed my skin as I moaned into her ear. The rope hugged around my butt, forming a diamond pattern across it. My hands had drifted once more and were busy toying with my breasts while, with my eyes closed, I delighted in every one of the Biker Chick’s touches.
I almost collapsed as I felt her thumb press firmly against my clit.
She took my unruly hands, placed them behind my head, and nibbled my neck. It left another bite mark for me to keep—to remind me of my birthday when I look in the mirror the next day.
“Behave,” she ordered with a sinister glint in her eye.
The Biker Chick placed another long strip of rope beneath my bust and behind my back. The rope had lightly frayed and tickled my skin. It came back over my shoulder between my breasts, then looped underneath itself and ran back up over my other shoulder. As she pulled the rope back around, this time above my breasts, I could feel it hugging me tightly and making my heart race.
All I could do as she tied me up was stare into her angelic eyes, longing for another kiss.
Before long, the rope formed an inverted pentagram over my chest. The more the Biker Chick tightened the rope, the more difficult it was to control myself. I wanted to play with myself as she watched. I needed to feel her hands exploring every inch of my aching body. I was desperate for our tongues to dance amidst orgasmic bliss.
She grasped my arms and pulled them to my hips while she wrapped her lips around my nipples. God, how her tongue was heavenly as it rolled slowly around my nipple. She would nibble them, and I would reply with a moan. My wrists were bound tightly against my hips as more rope was looped around them. I tried to reach for my soft valley, now drenched with desire, but the rope was too tight.
— Ride, Bunny, Ride —
Taking hold of the star-of-rope, the Biker Chick pulled me closer to her Dragon. I quickly followed with my hands secure at my sides. As I looked over her shoulder, she reached into a compartment, pulled out two dildos, and turned to me with a smirk. Her tongue seductively rolled along one of the dildos as her eyes remained fixed on me. As her tongue flicked off the end, I let out a soft whimper, recalling how her tongue felt on my nipple.
She took each dildo and stuck them close together onto the Dragon’s seat. While my pussy dripped with anticipation, she applied some lube to the dildo before she pulled me closer. Her eyes were hungrier than I had ever seen before.
“Your throne awaits, birthday girl,” she whispered as her nails dragged along my bare butt.
I gulped and shimmied closer to the bike. My leg swung over the bike, and I looked down, between my legs, at the two dildos pointing up at me. Slowly I lowered myself down and awkwardly pushed against the dildos. The Biker Chick just giggled at my efforts to sit on the dildos before she reached between my legs and helped guide me down onto the toys.
I shuddered as the dildos filled me. They stretched me; claimed me. My body quivered as it adjusted to them. By the time I was low enough to feel the warm leather seat beneath me, my moans dripped with lust. Across my face, delight spread as I slowly rolled my hips against the toys.
While I was lost in the sensation, the Biker Chick lifted my heels to my buttocks and tied them together with more rope. Another length of rope ran underneath the chassis of the bike’s seat, from one ankle to the other. She pulled it tight, forcing me down onto the dildo even more and trapping me in place. My mouth hung open as silent moans escaped.
Sat bound in her motorbike’s seat, I leaned in for a kiss. But she placed a finger over my lips, halting my desire. Then, as a smirk appeared across her face, she dangled a set of keys before me. I whimpered as she put it into the ignition and bit my lips as I braced myself for the Dragon’s awakening.
The key turned.
Pistons flared into life as the bellowing sound of the engine hid my lustful cries. Her bike exploded into life and growled as it vibrated beneath me, making the dildo trapped within me feel alive. She revved the bike, and I cried out again—louder this time. Once more, she revved, and the Dragon roared angrily. My eyes glazed over with impure pleasure, and my breathing became frantic as the bike tormented me. Again, she revved! Again!
My heart beat double time in a cacophony of unbridled desire.
I would have yelped when she harshly yanked my hair back, but she stole my voice as she pressed her tongue hungrily into my mouth. Strands of saliva trailed between our lips as she broke the kiss. The bike rested in neutral, with a continual hum rising into my pussy and ass, feeding my insatiable desires.
My hair was still held tightly back, forcing me to look up at the ceiling, moaning and whimpering. Soon I felt the Biker Chick tying some more rope into my long hair. She attached it to the rope underneath the seat, sealing my fate.
I was trapped on the greatest vibrator that has ever been invented. Bound tightly, unable to move. My orgasm quickly approached as I struggled on the heavy bike. The Biker Chick nibbled and flicked my earlobe with the tip of her tongue. I was so desperate for relief that you would never understand. You just wouldn’t.
Sitting sideways in front of me on the bike, she revved it again. Her eyes fixed intensely on me, her nails dragging along my skin.
“Cum for me,” she growled.
I didn’t need a second invitation.
She kept revving her bike as I screamed—so loudly my throat hurt. The vibrations from the engine were so intense.
My body and soul were drowned in euphoric glory, and my pussy tried to force the dildo out. Squeezing and pulsating. Then, with lust upon lust, I crest that glorious spire and exploded, squirting across the seat. My juices splashed shamelessly against the Biker Chick’s leather trousers as she smiled at me. I moaned as her hand caressed my breast. No matter how much I writhed in pleasure, the ropes held me prisoner—a prisoner to the heavenly bliss of riding a motorbike.
She revved the engine again, then left the bike in neutral as I quivered in ecstasy.
“Happy birthday,” she smirked.
“I’ll be back in an hour or two with the rest of the guests.” Her nails raked across my trembling stomach as she continued, “Apparently, they can’t wait to see you.”
The Biker Chick slipped a tight gag into my mouth. Then she walked out of the garage, leaving me bound to her bike to cum over and over again. With every new orgasm, reason and insanity devoured each other.
Engulfed in agonizing bliss, I quickly lost track of how many orgasms I had. Nothing else mattered as I remained bound to the greatest birthday present a Rope-Bunny could ever receive.
And thus I learned what motorbikes were truly invented for.