Pathways to Submission: Lisa Pt. 02

"So, where did you two meet?" I ask, feeling very relieved at what Drax has just told me.

In jail. The police were doing one of their periodic operations to subdue gang violence. They arrested nearly every biker wearing a patch on their jacket. As I said before, the police tend not to differentiate between club and gang patches. Xara and I were arrested on some pretence, and locked up overnight in the police jail. We started talking to each other through the bars of our cells and we hit it off almost immediately. The next day we were given the same public lawyer to supervise our interrogation. The lawyer was good at his job, and we were both let go without any charges being laid. After that we kept in touch, and one thing led to another until here we are.

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Chapter 20: Lisa arrested

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My own experiences with being on the wrong side of the law also moves me a step towards transforming me from the Lisa-who-was to the Lisa-I-become. Everything is starting to settle down by the third week after Michael and I split up. Drax, Xara and I have established a workable routine at home; I've visited my parents and calmed most of their alarm about my change in lifestyle; and I'm progressing at work to the extent that I don't wet my pants if a gang member enters the workshop when Plug isn't around.

Plug and I fix a variety of problems with the bikes brought into the garage for attention. Some simply require a routine service, while others need damage repairs or replacement parts. The Harley Fat Bob waiting for me to fix one morning has an unusual problem. The bike has been targeted during a gun fight. The bullet hole in the petrol tank is the most visible of the bike's problems, and it could easily have been the most catastrophic. I know better than to ask questions, and I happily rely on Plug to attend to the paperwork. Should we report this to the police? Almost certainly, but that would also be a good way to end up floating face down in the river.

"Can you fix her?" asks the biker with a Viper's gang patch on his jacket.

"We'll need to order a new petrol tank," answers Plug, before turning to me. "What else have you found, Lisa?"

"Um... There are at least four places that have been damaged by bullets. Mostly dents, but some of the cabling might need replacing. We won't know for sure until we fit a new petrol tank and can start her up."

The biker calls back two days later as arranged. We've fitted a new petrol tank and replaced a brake cable. Apart from a few dents, the bike seems to be running fine. The biker pays for the repairs in cash and rides off a lot happier than when he arrived a couple of days ago. However, he returns about ten minutes later.

"The engine doesn't sound right," complains the biker. "And when I open the throttle it doesn't have the same acceleration."

Plug and I take a look at the engine but there's no obvious problem. I check the throttle, and everything seems okay.

"I can't see anything wrong," I say. "I'd need to ride the bike to get a better idea of the cause of the problem."

"Nobody drives Jane Doe but me," asserts the biker as though I had just insulted his bike.

"That's OK," says Plug. "You can drive while Lisa rides pillion. Go put on your leathers, Lisa."

I do as Plug asks, although I'm not comfortable about riding with this stranger. I'm mollified when Plug makes it clear that he'll follow behind us on his own bike.

"You never said that you are a Red Dragon," says the biker when he sees my red and black gear.

"I'm not," I reply. "These are ordinary leathers. See, no patch."

"The yellow trim on the arms of your jacket mark you as a Dragon as much as any patch on your back."

"Lisa isn't in any gang," says Plug. "Now, if you want your bike fixing, saddle up."

I don't know the relationship between the Vipers and the Red Dragons, but I'm guessing it isn't cordial. Rivalry between gangs ebbs and flows as new alliances are forged, and old ones ended. Whatever this biker's feelings are towards the Dragons, he stops making an issue of it. I mount the pillion seat, and we set off at a breakneck speed. I soon identify the likely problem with the bike's performance but we'll need to go back to the workshop for me to make the adjustment.

Travelling at a hundred and ten along Chapel Road is exhilarating, and over twice the speed limit. Plug gets left far behind, but he continues to follow at a more sedate pace. I signal the biker to return to the workshop, but he doesn't pay any attention to me. However, he needs to slow down when the traffic gets heavier, and that's when two police cars emerge from a side road and pull us over.

We both get arrested for supposedly disturbing the peace. I suspect the biker will get charged with speeding or reckless driving as well, but not before we've been taken to the police station. It's the first time I've had a brush with the law, and I'm unprepared for the rough handling and the humiliating process. I'm sure they shouldn't be so rough, nor do I see the need for a strip search. My protests and my pleas of innocence are ignored.

I get fingerprinted, handcuffed, photographed, searched in the most embarrassing way, and made to wear a bright orange jumpsuit. I'm even briefly put in a waist chain and leg shackles, although they are removed when we reach the holding cells. Drax had previously told me what to do if I am ever stopped by the police. I refuse to make a statement until I have a lawyer present, which thankfully Plug soon arranges for me. Drax, Plug and probably most of the motorcycle club members retain the same lawyer for just this sort of event. The lawyer arrives and, after a short interview, demands my immediate release. He might have succeeded had I not been arrested while I was sat on a motorbike wanted as evidence as part of an investigation into a recent spate of inter-gang violence. Consequently, I get to spend the night in police custody.

I notice that I'm the only one of the four women confined to this cell who is wearing an orange jumpsuit. The other three are dressed in normal clothing, although when I study the scantily clad redhead I admit to myself that I'm using a broad definition of 'normal'.

"Not seen you in here before" says the older of the three women.

"This is my first time," I reply.

"You're remarkably calm for a first timer," says the scantily clad redhead. "You had better not be a snitch."

"Snitch?" I reply. "What on earth makes you say that?"

"The Cops like to plant their snitches in cells to trap us into making confessions or revealing useful evidence," says the older woman. "But I don't think you're one. I saw you being hauled in wearing your Red Dragon leathers. Even the cops know better than to try disguise one of their own as a gang member."

The similarity between my imprisonment here and my experiences in the PCT scenario are probably what sees me through my night in jail without being reduced to quivering jelly. My cell-mates attribute my calmness to my imagined tough biker background. I can't explain why I'm so calm, nor the mild arousal I feel from the whole experience.

I'm released without charge the next morning. The police have verified that I'm a mechanic at Plug's garage and that I'm an innocent party to the whole affair. Xara comes to collect me, which nearly sabotages my release when the sergeant decides to makes his sexist opinion about biker girls very clear to both of us. Xara doesn't take kindly to the sergeant's opinion, and she nearly gets us both arrested for assaulting a police officer.

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Chapter 21: Lisa's submission

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Fortunately, I wasn't expecting any sympathy from Drax, Xara or Plug for my experience in police custody. For them, getting stopped by the police, and even arrested, is a hazard of everyday life. However my night in jail heralds two important changes in my life. Firstly, the three of them start regarding me as one of them, and I'm no longer treated as an outsider to their biker culture. Secondly, both Xara and I realise that my reaction to being incarcerated confirms Xara's earlier suspicion that I'm open to some bondage games between us. I'm not sure if Drax draws the same conclusion, but he tends to give Xara free reign when it comes to my treatment.

At work, my brush with the law means that Plug treats me differently. Whereas he would previously shield me from the workshop's less savoury clients, I'm now included in whatever conversations and work that needs to be done. When the police call at the workshop a fortnight later, I deal with them without any visible nervousness.

As for my home life, then the changes are both rapid and rewarding. Xara starts calling me 'slave' more often, although never outside the house. Similarly, I respond by calling her 'mistress'. Even Drax sometimes refers to Xara as my mistress when speaking to me. However, Drax never calls me 'slave'. At first it is a continuation of our light-hearted game, but after a while the friendship between Xara and me shifts towards a clear dominant-submissive relationship.

The change in our relationship isn't confined to words or attitude. Mistress Xara has me wear a red leather collar inside the house. At first I only wear the collar while I do my house work, but before long I start wearing it at other times. I don't feel any shame at wearing the collar, which I regard as a gift from Mistress Xara to show her affection towards me. Leather wrist and ankle cuffs are added later, and are a logical extension in my attire, reinforcing my submission to Mistress Xara's control over my life.

Xara's and my relationship takes on a greater sexual component during Drax's week long absence during his club's annual road trip. The trip includes a huge three day motorcycle enthusiasts meet at some remote back country farm. Apparently the trip is the equivalent of Drax's 'boy's night out', so Xara never goes with him.

"Have you ever used a strap on cock?" asks Xara, an hour after Drax has departed on his trip.

"No, Mistress," I reply.

I'm not unduly surprised by Mistress Xara's interest in fucking me. We have been kissing more often, and we run our hands over each other's bodies most nights, although I never dare to initiate such intimacy. Xara has even started making a show of seducing me in front of Drax, which I think arouses him. Certainly the sex he and Xara have afterwards is louder and more vigorous.

"Strip, slave," orders Mistress Xara.

I obey. It's not as though she hasn't seen me naked before. We've even shared a shower together on occasion, although the shower cubicle is a bit small for any sexual activity. Once I'm naked, Mistress fastens my collar and cuffs on me. Finally she produces a strap on cock, which she promptly puts on me.

I'm not normally allowed into their bedroom, other than to clean and make their bed each morning. But Mistress clearly intends for us to have sex on her bed. She removes her trousers and underwear, but leaves her tank top on. She lubes the huge latex cock I am wearing before lying back on the bed.

"Fuck me hard, slave," demands Mistress Xara.

I've never done anything like this before but it's hardly rocket science. I align the tip of the cock against Mistress Xara's moist nether lips and gently push the cock forward. It slides in easily enough, and I'm rewarded by a moan of pleasure from Mistress. At first I'm gentle with the pumping motion and I don't retract the cock too far. I know from my experience with Michael that the mounting pleasure can be lost if the cock is withdrawn completely.

"Harder, slave," moans Mistress Xara.

I pick up the pace of my pumping, but remain careful not to pull back too far. I'm hoping Mistress likes to be fucked the same way that I enjoy, with a hard and fast push forward, and a slower reverse movement. It's difficult to tell how she feels since her moans are fairly constant. It's her eyes glazing that gives me an indication of her approaching orgasm. She orgasms with a familiar cry that I've heard from my bed on many occasions. However, we aren't finished. Mistress wraps her legs around my thighs to prevent me from withdrawing.

"Again, slave."

I repeat the performance, although my body is getting tired from the exertion. Despite my aching thigh muscles I keep fucking her. Fortunately it doesn't take her long to reach another orgasm. Thankfully I'm not commanded to fuck her a third time. Mistress draws me forward for a passionate kiss which I return with enthusiasm. I'm very aroused and so far I've had no means of satisfying my need to come. I'm too much in Mistress Xara's thrall to ask her to bring me to an orgasm, and touching my sensitive parts in front of her might displease her. Even after all this time together, and the intimate relationship that has evolved, I'm still a little afraid of her. While the rough edges to Mistress Xara's personality attract me, they make me wary of displeasing her at the same time.

"Lie on your back, slave."

I decouple myself from our embrace and lie on Mistress Xara's bed. She proceeds to tie my wrist and ankle cuffs to the corners of the bed frame using some rope that she has obviously acquired for this purpose. Once I'm secured, she removes the strap on cock from me and places it on herself.

"Beg to be fucked, slave."

"Please fuck me, Mistress. Please fuck your devoted slave as hard as you like."

Mistress Xara teases me for a while with the cock, pretending that she is going to penetrate me but pulling up at the last second so the cock slides along my slit and onto my belly. While my cunt aches for satisfaction, her movements at least tease my clit. It's not enough to bring me to an orgasm, but it arouses me until I'm almost weeping in frustration. Mistress clearly knows the effect her actions are having on me and she expertly drives me wild with desire while denying me the pleasure of satisfaction. My nipples come in for some serious attention, but yet again, it only serves to arouse me to dizzy heights but never quite enough for me to reach an orgasm.

Finally she pushes the cock into my sopping wet cunt. The pressure of the cock pushing against my innards tips me over the edge towards an orgasm.

"Please may I come, Mistress?" I plead.

We've never discussed whether I need to ask Mistress Xara's permission before having an orgasm, but it seems the right thing for me to do.

"You may come, slave," purrs Mistress Xara.

The words are hardly out of her mouth before my orgasm washes over me like a tidal wave. It's an incredibly powerful orgasm that has me shuddering from head to toe, and squirting my cum around the cock rammed hard into my cunt. I momentarily lose all sense of time and place as the divine pleasure consumes me.

"Well, aren't you a hot little slut, slave?" teases Mistress.

"Thank you, Mistress. That was wonderful."

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Chapter 22: New living arrangements

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During the week that Drax is away, Mistress Xara and I experiment with various ways to manage our dominant-submissive relationship. We both need to work during the day, so any symbols of my submission must be invisible to a casual observer. We settle for my having a tattoo in my pelvic region. A day later I'm sporting a small dragon tattoo above my freshly shaved cunt, and another on the back of my left shoulder. The first tattoo was Mistress Xara's idea, while the second tattoo was entirely my own decision.

At home my submission is simply a continuation of what we have already developed. The only visible change is that my collar and cuffs are now locked in place with tiny padlocks. The keys to the padlocks are stored in a small box with a timer-controlled locking mechanism. This means that I am imprisoned in the collar and cuffs until a set time. By setting the timer for dawn it also means that I can release myself in the morning without disturbing Mistress Xara's sleep.

There's no suggestion on Mistress Xara's part that our sexual games will cease when Drax is here. That means that we will need to settle our sleeping arrangements by the time Drax returns. I'm slightly surprised by Xara's assumption that Drax will go along with what she proposes, but she obviously knows him better than I do. I'm attracted to the prospect of having sex with both Drax and Mistress Xara, but I'm still wary of coming between them, and triggering any form of jealousy. Mistress Xara seems less concerned with the emotional consequences, and more with the practicality of three of us sharing a double bed.

We have a plan of sorts worked out by the time Drax is due to return. I think Xara has been eager to make the changes as soon as we devised a plan. However, she agreed to my suggestion that she obtain Drax's consent to the revised sleeping arrangements before we start moving furniture. I feel a bit foolish when Drax readily agrees to Xara's plan. Perhaps I should have trusted her instinct in the first place.

There isn't a lot of space in the bedroom. However, by sliding the double bed so that one side is against the wall, it is possible to fit my bed next to it. The gap between my bed and the open side of the double bed is just about wide enough to navigate without pushing against either of the beds. Of course, making the beds will be difficult with both beds flush against a wall, but since making the beds is part of my household duties, neither Drax nor Xara are concerned about that.

I'm nervous about having sex with Drax, despite Mistress Xara's consent. Fortunately, Xara resolves my hesitance by fastening my cuffs to the corners of the double bed and then arousing me until I'm squirming and pleading to be fucked. That's when Xara has Drax step forward and plough my innards with his solid shaft. I'm too far gone in ecstasy to worry about how Xara feels about seeing her husband fuck their submissive slave. The experience is heavenly, and I don't hesitate to push my tongue into Mistress Xara's cunt when she straddles my face and practically shoves my mouth into her cunt. Drax continues to fuck me while fondling Xara's tits. I allow my body to be used like a toy and I simply obey whatever instruction is directed at me.

"Please may I come, Mistress?" I gasp as Drax's cock slides back and forth in my well lubricated innards.

"Not yet, slave," replies Mistress Xara. "You must bring me to an orgasm before I'll allow you one of your own."

I do my best to suppress my pending orgasm, but neither Drax nor Mistress Xara are helping me do that. Bringing Xara to an orgasm with my tongue is difficult. I am unable to use my hands to draw her cunt closer to my mouth so that I can delve deeper inside her. I slide my tongue to tease her clit, which meets with greater success. But Mistress Xara is far better a suppressing an orgasm than me, and I must finally admit defeat. My orgasm hits and I'm whimpering with a mixture of delight, and concern at the consequences of having an orgasm before Mistress Xara achieves hers. Drax doesn't seem to mind my lack of control, and moments later he's shooting his load into my eager cunt. Drax withdraws and Xara slides down my body until she we are touching cunt to cunt.

"There's a price for disobedience, slave," admonishes Mistress. "You came when I expressly forbade you to do so."

"I'm sorry, Mistress. I couldn't help myself."

"Then you need to learn to do better. Pass me one of your slippers, Drax."

I don't have time to protest before my wrists and ankles are freed from the corners of the bed and I'm instructed to lie over Mistress Xara's lap and present my arse for a spanking. I've never been spanked before, although it is one of those experiences I've fantasized about in my daydreams. Thwack... thwack... thwack. Drax's slipper has a soft sole, so the pain of my punishment is tolerable. By the time the sixth stroke lands, my arse is starting to get pleasantly warm.