Bully Girl on a Motorcycle
Art by Submissen
The man begged repeatedly to be Maggie’s slave. He promised he would do anything and everything she commanded. He would never hesitate, question or refuse an order.
He got his wish.
Maggie had never cared to have men around the house. Men stunk. They were too stupid to put up with. As a girl, she thought boys were icky. Age did not diminish the feelings, just the words.
She worried that if she kept a slave, she would kill him. That would not trouble her conscience. The law would be the act as worse than pesticide.
When in the mood, she would find a man, slap him around. Kicking men always relaxed her. She kept her favorite whip in her backpack. But live with a man … – never!
Then she decided she wanted a servant. Someone to cook and clean. A man she could just reach out and slap for the fun of it. Or slam her strap-on down his throat.
She would keep him downstairs and out of sight when not in use. A gag or muzzle would prevent him from accidentally saying a word without permission.
Her slave would be a total nonperson. It would have no name.
While she was considering this, the guy made his offer. Some men’s begging is akin to demanding. But Maggie let him sign a five-year TPE contract.
One he was her possession, she ordered it out of its clothes. She strapped him to the back of her motorcycle. She took the wretch to a mostly deserted, very seedy part of town.
She told the slave to go stand on the sidewalk. Maggie gave it the finger and drove away. It would learn about “anything and everything.”
She returned a couple of hours later. She brought friends in case she needed help to retrieve the slave.
They found it shivering with terror in an alley. Its orifices had been penetrated. A black eye and bloody lips seemed the only damage.
The slave became a flawless servitor. It feared Maggie. Feared and worshiped her.