The Bikers

Many people would call me crazy, and some who have gone through the torture for real would cry in disbelief, but the idea of being raped really turns me on. I don't mean play rape I mean to be abducted, abused, and sexually used without any permission asked or given, and if this was at the hands of more than one guy even better.

It started 2 years ago when I read a very graphic description of a rape in a book I found in my parents room. Being vary naïve the book was an eye opener for me. It was about a girl who was abducted by a group of Vikings and brutally raped many times before being held as a slave. Reading the graphic details on the sexual scenes the girl went through initially shocked me, but soon I discovered that I was getting sexually aroused as I read the story.

At first it was just a feeling of hunger deep in my stomach, followed by a tingling between my legs. It was not until I discovered the wetness between my virginal lips did I realise my body was responding sexually for the first time in my life. Using my finger I touched my pussy lips exploring the wetness, amazed at the way my outer lips had swollen, all puffy and ready to admit a cock for the first time. My fingers slipped between the lips exploring with ease the length of the slit from down near my back passage to the sensitive area at the front. I had discovered some time before that there was an area right at the front of my slit that was sensitive to the touch and almost painful in a nice sort of way. My friends had told me that this was the clitoris and her sister had told her that it was the way to have an orgasm. No information on how it worked, just that this was how you got one. I had tried several times to touch, rub my clitoris only to find the feeling was too overpowering and gave up fearing I was doing myself harm.

This time it was different, the slippery liquid allowed my fingers to glide over my clitoris making the sensations I was feeling in my stomach stronger and the tingling harder, my clitoris almost throbbing. I picked up the book and read the passage about the young girl in the story being raped over and over.

I always read where a Viking drove his cock into her vagina for the first time, breaking her hymen and riding her till he filled her with his sperm. Each time I felt like I was going to burst but never quite, I knew that I was missing something and not quite getting to the end of my journey. That was until one day; when I read the same bit for the 20 or 30th time did my fingers discover that rubbing my clitoris as I read made my body feel wonderful.

The harder I rubbed, the stronger the wonderful feelings came, and as I got the part where the Vikings cock entered her I felt an explosion. I moaned as the surge grew from within my pussy, setting fireworks off in my head. I was lucky I was alone in the house as I started to be aware of a woman crying out almost in pain, and with shock realised it was me!!

I lay still for several minuets as my body returned to normal. That was two years ago and the book is battered, but I still read it when I feel like coming. In fact my problem now is that I can't come unless I read the book or recap the story in my mind, the difference now is the when I recap the story it's me that is getting raped.

A friend of mine was raped by a guy who dragged her into the bushes near our house. I actually felt jealous that it was her and not me, but I never said anything. The story of the rape in the book was slowly taking control of me, I looked up rape on the internet any chance I got and I even got my friend to recap the events of her attack to me, on the basis that it would help her to talk to someone, little did she know!

I was quite upset when they announced that they had caught the guy who attacked her, as I had been purposely walking the same route she took in the hope it would happen to me. I don't think I actually wanted to be raped, but the thought of it always made me wet my knickers, and walking through the area where my friend was raped really set me off. I realised I was being stupid, but the thought never crossed my mind that I might actually get seriously hurt or even killed.

My family always liked cycling; we used to use the route of an old rail line near our house. One Sunday we were all out with my father when we passed a old station building. It was surrounded by 20 or so bikers that were obviously using the building as some sort of meeting place. Music blared out of the open windows and the guys sat around drinking beer.

I was cycling in my shorts and "T" shirt with my hair in a pony tail, the hot summer made shorts and tight tops obligatory. My father had told us to hurry when he saw the groups of guys standing by the old station, and when the bikers whistled and called for me to join them my vagina already tingling from the action of the cycle's saddle, instantly started to get slippery triggered by the whistles the bikers made as we went by. My father was cross that these guys were "allowed" to get away with this sort of behaviour, but had more sense than to confront them.

The remainder of the trip home had me in quite a state, I loved the way my bike saddle rubbed my wet pussy, with my mind going into over drive thinking of what might happen if I was to go into the building with the bikers. On arriving home my horrible little brother noticed my shorts had a big damp spot in my crutch, and joked that I had wet myself.

I ran into the house saying I was desperate for a pee, dived into the main bathroom locking the door and almost before I had my shorts and panties down my hand started rubbing my clit. I had to push a towel in my mouth to gag the moans, I came in seconds. I quickly went to my room and changed my shorts, my little brother still winding me up about wetting myself!!

The summer holidays had just begun, and my parents were happy to leave me alone at home when they went to work, but my brother went to our Aunts house as they said he would be happier with her children.

I was dieing to go see if the bikers were still there, my rape fantasies were no longer about Vikings, but about the bikers. On the following Monday I rode the mile or so to where the cycle path started and lost my bottle. I really wanted to look inside to see what was there, but chickened out and went home. Over the next few days I could not get the courage to look inside and the bikers were never there.

By the Thursday I had almost given up with the idea of the bikers ever being there, as I passed by the old station. Still there was no one around and the disappointment drove me crazy. I built up the courage to cycle over by the old building to see if you could look in, but the wooden shutters covering the windows were closed tight.

I returned to my bike and cycled a bit further down the path where I knew there was a shop. I brought a bottle of coke and sat on the grass drinking before heading back home disappointed. I had put a short tennis skirt on and it was virtually impossible to sit without showing my knickers. I giggled to myself as I sat open legged on the grass bank, anyone passing had a clear view of my crutch, damp from the effects of the saddle and the expectations of seeing the bikers.

A sudden roar from behind me made me jump out of my skin. Two big bikes blasted past me heading up the path towards the old station. The second of the bikes had a rider and passenger and the passenger looked at me with a lecherous grin. My heart pounded and rather than feeling sexy I wanted to run and get as far away from these dirty greasy guys as possible. My fantasies had always been where the guys where more like movie stars rather than these greasy haired rough necks.

I jumped on my bike realising I had to pass the old building to get home. As I approached I decided to get past as quick as possible. I saw the passenger point at me, and the rider drove the bike forward, bringing it to a halt across the track in front of me. I did not know what to do, I tried to ease round the front, then the back but there was no way past. I finally found my voice and asked them to let me past, and they laughed mimicking my high pitched voice. They said they just wanted a chat, the rider looking at my skirt hitched up on the cross bar. I realised he could see straight up to my knickers, oh why had I worn such a short skirt!!

They asked me if I wanted a drink as they had loads of cans in the building and on such a warm day they were sure I would be thirsty. My initial fear was easing as they were actually quite funny and the sight of this guy looking up my skirt had got me going. I decided that one drink would be OK, trouble makers they may have been, killers they were not.

Into the old station we went, it was a mess, had a strong musky smell and quite dark till they opened the shutters, but had a fridge and a TV and a load of arm chairs. The passenger opened the door of the fridge and passed me a beer. The third guy had come in asking if I had ever drunk a beer, I had had a few sips of my fathers been and did not like it much, but didn't want to look like a baby and swallowed a big mouthful. I hated the taste but managed to keep it down and the cold beer was quite refreshing on the hot day.

The guys got me to sit on the chair opposite them, obvious they wanted to look up my skirt. I sat very carefully so as to keep my skirt down as far as possible but my knickers were still on show.

After I had drunk most of the large can; the beer was having an effect on me and I felt quite light headed, relaxing into the chair. I had found that the guys were not all bad as we chatted about bikes and music as we drunk the beer. They kept turning the conversation towards sex with dirty jokes and discussing ways of having sex on a bike, enjoying my embarrassment.

I had never heard sex talked about so openly and knew I was getting quite turned on by this conversation. It was not until I noticed the guys were grinning, that I realised I had relaxed a bit too much as they looked between my legs, it made me flush knowing I was quite damp and this would be clearly on show. I decided it was time to go; I stood up as a roar out side signalled the arrival of more bikers. I decided I had to get out now and made for the door only to be meet by 5 bikers coming in.

Their faces were a picture, their three friends alone with a sweet girl and three stupid grins on their face. The passenger who had given me a beer told me to sit down and meet his other friends. He held out another beer opening it for me, I knew I should leave but the beer and the tingle between my legs changed my mind. Again I was sat opposite the guys, but this time with 8 of them hoping to look up my skirt.

We again chatted and I relaxed into the chair, I knew my knickers were on show, but I pretended I had not noticed. The conversation again turned to sex, with them quizzing me about my sex life. I played along with them pretending to be quite worldly in the art of sex, rapturously listening to the discussions.

One of the new guys who was obviously the leader of the bikers called Donk; was paying very little attention to my face, and was quite blatantly looking up my skirt. I could feel my lips swelling, tingling and getting wet. I needed to get out before I went too far, realising my fantasy would be better left just that.

As I was about to stand up when two young women walked in saw me and asked what was going on. Donk said they were having a chat and a beer with me, then whispered something into the one girls ear. She looked at me, and then said she didn't think it was a good idea, but Donk said not to worry and that it would be OK. My mind was running in overdrive, as the two women came over and sat either side of me.

They asked how old I was and when I said 18 she said something about never been kissed, I laughed and said I had many times, hoping I didn't look too innocent. Now the sex talk became quite dirty, the guys all seamed to know the women intimately. My innocent knowledge of relationships had me thinking that they were "attached" to one of the guys, but the conversation sounded like they were "owned" by the guys and not partners.

I asked one of the women who her boyfriend was, and to rapturous laughter the guys said all of us. I was quite shocked, and confused at how it might work, till the women explained. In many biker gangs the women were considered to be property of the leader to be shared by all and thought to be less important that their bikes.

If a woman didn't like this they could leave at any time, but they were well looked after and loved the life as the sex was incredible. She said there was never a time when one of the bikers didn't want to fuck and when they met other gangs it was fun to be shared out.

I was stunned by her language and openness; talk of fucking, Cunts, clits, cocks and pussies was not new to me, but I had never heard it used in open conversation. The way she openly chatted about being fucked by all the bikers and even complete strangers really affected me, my mind thinking I would love this kind of life. I knew I should leave and was being pulled in to something, but I was fascinated and loved the attention I was getting or should say my damp crutch was getting.

I asked if Donk was named after the character in the film Crocodile Dundee and they all laughed. They said it was short for Donkey, and being very innocent I wondered why he was called Donkey! My confusion must have shown as one of the women giggled and said his cock is as big as a donkey! I felt like my face was bright red, for being so stupid, but I had seen a donkey on a local farm and if his was as big as that it would never fit in me and I would think it would never fit in any woman!

I looked opposite to where Donk sat and noticed for the first time his right trouser leg had a bulge down to his knee! He rubbed his bulge asking if I wanted to see it, I instantly looked away saying no, but I really wanted to say yes. I asked the women if they had had sex with Donk, they both smiled and with a twinkle in there eyes said YES. I wondered what it would be like to have something that big inside, but one thing was for sure, if I continued to get as turned on as this I would soon wet the chair!

One of the guys said he needed a pee, stood up and stood by the door to pee, I could easily see his cock. My mouth dropped open at the casual way he just stood there his cock in hand and a golden stream flowing from the end onto the dirt outside. The other guys laughed at my reaction telling the guy who was peeing he was embarrassing me, but instead of hiding his cock, he turned around asking what the problem was, giving me a perfect view of a cock. My family were not into nudity and although I had seen my brother nude, I had never seen my father. The pictures I had seen on the internet had not prepared me for the site in front of me. He stood for about 20 seconds with his cock in hand, and the other guys cheering, before one of the women shouted to put it away.

I realised I needed a pee too, I asked the girls where the toilet was and they pointed to the door and said over there. It is one thing for a guy to pee in public, but a girl? The guys laughed saying these was no need to be shy as the two women always peed standing up. I said I was OK, and could wait till I got home, but the effects of the earlier coke and the two cans of beer was causing a fair bit of pressure in my bladder. I decided to leave and head for home, hoping I could get there before I wet myself. The guys all pleaded with me to stay saying the fun was yet to start.

I looked at the girls for support, but they laughed and said that when you were with a group of bikers, you soon learnt not to be shy. One of the guys said they would hold me if I didn't want to stand, and the others said they would all like to see that with a roar of laughter. By now I did not feel like laughing, I was desperate for a pee and I knew that if I did not move I would pee the chair. One of the women called Sue, realised my predicament grabbed my hand, pulling me to the door. She suggested I removed my knickers, stand with my legs wide and just let go, my skirt would hide everything. I realised I had no choice and was about to run to some bushes when the first trickle of pee escaped. In desperation I forgot my shyness and bent to remove my panties.

It was too late as my pee started to flow through my panties. I quickly spread my legs and pulled my wet panties to one side allowing a jet of pee to splash 2 feet in front of me. The relief was immense as the pressure diminished in my bladder, and as the final drops of pee dripped to the floor a big cheer came from the room behind. With me standing between the bikers and the sun, I had just given them a perfect view and might as well of been naked!

I released my wet panties, the wet cotton feeling cold on my pussy. Sue asked me to come back in for another beer, and by now with my bladder empty and a fussy mind from the beers I had already drunk I could see no reason not to. She suggested I took my wet knickers off as they would be very uncomfortable and they could dry in the sun before going home. I knew if I did the others would be able to everything but the thrill of showing myself off would be fun, if not dangerous, but the beer had taken away most of my worries. Carefully so as not to give them too much of a view I slipped my white panties off laying them on the window ledge to dry.

I sat with my legs firmly closed, but my light brown bush could easily be seen beneath my skirt. I could feel the guys stare burning into my crutch wishing me to move my legs. Sue was sat next to me and pointed at how my clamped legs were making my hair poke out. I nearly died with embarrassment, but her laughter was infectious and I soon joined in relaxing my legs laughing more as all the guys virtually fought for a better look. The guys suggested I gave them a flash, and they chanted "flash" "flash" "flash", this was getting out of hand, with no idea of how it would end. With encouragement from the women I opened my legs as wide as the chair would allow and snapped then closed as quick as I could, to the rapturous cheers of the bikers.

The guys opened more cans, one guy saying now I had peed in front of them, and flashed my pussy, I was almost an official member of the gang. I had to ask, my mind warned me not to ask, but ask I did, what else did a girl have to do to join the gang? The answer was strange and left me with more questions; to join the gang a girl has to "Ride the Hog".

I knew that the nick name of the American bikes called Harley Davidson was a HOG, so I assumed that was what you had to do. When I asked how I could ever get to ride a bike, they all laughed and the guys suggested they show me. I saw the women look at each other, the guys all encouraging me to have a go, I was starting to realise this had very little to with bikes and the warning bells told me to say no.

Donk looked at the other woman called Lee, and nodded to the door at the back of the room. She got up and went off through the door leaving me with sitting on the chair. The guys were obviously getting excited, I wanted to leave, but my curiosity wanted to find out what the Hog was. I turned to Sue next to me and asked if she had ridden the hog? With a big smile she said yes, it's wonderful all women should try it, but she looked at me and said perhaps I was a bit inexperienced to try it? Said more of a question than a statement I felt a bit put down by this, I felt that I was virtually an adult and more than capable of trying anything. I responded with some strength that I was bold enough to try anything!

Lee returned and with a big smile saying the hog was ready, and with Sue they took an arm each taking me into the other room. The guys all stayed behind which surprised me, and as I was only with the women I relaxed and went with them. We went into a room that was still dark, there were candles for light and once my eyes grew accustomed to the dark I could see in the middle of the room was what looked like a bike. Well it had handle bars, a padded tank, a seat and places for your feet. It had no wheels but was mounted to a frame and looked like some training device for riders. The woman giggled and pointed at the "bike" and said here is the HOG!