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Riding Bitch By Cissykay It was my favorite day of the year. September 1st. I worked my ass off for ten months counting the days, hours and minutes until my yearly pilgrimage to Sturgess. At twenty seven years of age, it is my first year as the president of the local motorcycle club. All twenty two men in the club rode Harleys. I had been riding since I was old enough to shift a small mountain bike. I graduated to the big "hog" as soon as I earned enough money to buy one. As the owner of a successful and quite lucrative consulting company, it was easy to arrange my schedule so I could take my yearly adventure. Sixteen members of the club, and myself biked across the country to the largest gathering of motorcycle jockeys on the planet. We took our time, and never had a special route planned. Six shirts, six pairs of jeans, underwear, and personal items were stuffed in the knapsack on the back of my bike. It was all I needed as once a week we would rumble into whatever town we were near, and drink, eat, and do the laundry. This year we decided to take a southern route. Warm weather and great scenery were the order of the day. We would take three weeks to get to the Dakotas, and the festival lasted a full week. It was a sight to behold. Tens of thousands of bikers and bikes. We were all quite macho when we rode. Raised some controlled hell. It was always a kick to see the look on peoples faces when we rode by. It was the stigma of the prototypical motorcycle gang. Everyone thought we were going to rob the bank and rape the girls. If they knew that we were college educated businessmen, they would surely die. Our club was the typical motorcycle club. We mainly rode on weekends and enjoyed the freedom that a motorcycle afforded. Of course there were no women in the club. Women just couldn't ride as well as men, and sometimes we would stop for a few drinks at bars that catered to bikers. They surely couldn't handle the language and the games that went on. Besides, they often wanted to "bitchride". Girls like the thrill of riding on the back of a motorcycle. Although I must admit that more and more women were riding now, and there were more women riders and clubs every year at the festival. Bitchriding is the term used for riding behind the driver on the same bike. No self respecting male biker would ever be caught dead riding bitch on a Harley, but it was a huge status symbol to have a sexily dressed broad sitting behind you in a short leather skirt and tight corset at the festival. It was our third day on the road when we crossed paths with the "Leather Ladies". They were a fairly well known bunch of females that liked to think they were riders. They all had very expensive bikes. About half of the gang rode Harleys, and the other half a mixture of less powerful machines. I had run across their president last year at the other large biker get together in Daytona Beach. Her name was Melanie, and I had to admit she was the type of woman that men get wet over. Long flowing hair, the face of an angel, and the body of a goddess. She had everything a woman could want and she knew it. She was probably my intellectual equal also, but I would never tell her that. The guys and I had even discussed who we would like to ride bitch with us into Sturgess, and for me it was no contest. Having this thing of beauty sitting behind me, in a leather mini, corset, and heels, with the tops of her silk stockings showing, brought a smile to my lips. Of course I would probably have to handcuff her to the bike to get her to do it. She was just too strong willed to ride bitch for any man. In our conversations over beer I would often talk of her, and I made no secret that I would have to chain her up to get her behind me. "Good afternoon gentlemen. I'm a little surprised to see you this far south. Are you planning on riding to Sturgess at the end of the month?" "Of course we are. In fact, we are taking the next six weeks to tour the country, and we will wind up in the Dakotas at the end of the month. Nice vacation, huh?" Melanie looked me right in the eye, and I wondered if she knew that she was giving me a raging hard-on. "Well, that's funny, because we girls are doing the same thing. We'll be out on the road until the festival too." I just couldn't resist the great opportunity to get a dig in. "Well then, you only have three weeks, and the way girls usually ride, you'd better get on your way." All the guys broke out in a fit of laughter. We were sitting in a rest area, putting down a few beers when the girls rode up. We usually did that. Got some lunch at a deli, and some beer at a local liquor store, and just ate, drank, and talked about what we would do when we got to the festival. Usually, the more we drank, the more odious the conversation became. Gang raping one of the unsuspecting females was a frequent topic. Tying her to something, and having our way with her for a few days. Of course when we were sober, we would never think of doing it. "You're a riot. Too bad you don't ride as well as you wisecrack." That was a shot below the belt and I couldn't let that challenge go. "If any of you broads rode half as well as you think you do, there wouldn't be any women left to bitchride with the men." "I have news for you buster. I can get more men to bitchride with me than you can get girls to go anywhere near you." "All women should be only allowed to ride bitch. You will probably hurt yourself between here and there if you don't get a man to bring that "hog" in for you. And there ought to be a law that all you bitches should be dressed properly for us when we give you the thrill of squeezing our dicks from behind." The beer was starting to kick in. "You really do think that men can ride better than women, don't you?" "Oh come on Melanie. You have to have trouble keeping that hog upright. Why don't you just get a nice little 1200cc Kawasaki, and enjoy being able to control it." I could see the fire in her eyes. I struck a nerve, and I knew it. We finally began to talk civil again, and I felt a little guilty, so I invited the girls to ride behind us to the next town, and we would all have a few drinks to smooth things over. I really didn't want to make Melanie dislike me. In fact I wanted to fuck her brains out. Maybe a few drinks would loosen her up. As we pulled into a small town in Virginia, the townfolk began to stop and stare at the thirty something bikers roaring down the main drag. I wanted to believe that they were all looking at me, but I knew that most of them were gawking at the ladies. People just can't believe that so many women ride. We pulled up to a pub at the end of the strip, and as usual, lined all the bikes up like a row of soldiers. I am quite sure that everyone inside heard the roar of the bikes, and were shitting in their pants. As usual, the fear began to subside as soon as we had our first drink, and they saw that we were actually human. "I couldn't help but notice that you ladies have quite a few passengers riding with you. Are these the girls that are afraid to wheel a bike of their own around?" "Actually, wiseass, it's our annual initiation month." I knew what an initiation was. All bike clubs had them. They were usually well guarded secrets, and every club had their own private rite of passage. Our club, like most, had two. The one that was open to the public and that usually consisted of sitting in a bar and making the pledges drink shooters and beer until they either passed out, or blew their lunch on the barroom floor. Our private one was a bit seamier. Each new prospective member had to find a bitch to ride with them, and he had to get into her pants in front of the entire club. A lot of fun for the guys, and usually humiliating for the woman, unless she was a groupie that would fuck the whole club to get attention. "We were just about to get started when we ran across you big, strong biker men on the highway. We were on our way to get the motor homes ready and packed, and have our first pledge test." The women had a few motor homes that they brought to events. It was actually a good idea. Plenty of storage space, and a place to crash if it started to rain during a trip, or if they just needed a quick place to take a nap or sleep off the night before. "I would love to see what the big, bad girl bikers do, but I realize that it is always private." We were all seated at tables in the dining room of the lounge. I could tell what almost every woman's personality was by the way they acted and sat. There were a few that were power drinking beer, and an occasional shooter. Then there was a group that sat quietly in the corner, and sipped some kind of Margarita, and talking as if the world as we know it depended on the outcome of the conversation. Last was the group of pledges that were being used as waitresses for the entire group. I noticed that Melanie was pretty much calling the shots, as every once in a while, she would give them orders either loud enough for everyone to hear, or with a quiet whisper. The vice president of our club is Tom. He is an investment banker, and really likes to let it all hang out when he rides. He was deep in a heated discussion with the vice president of the girls club. Since they were on the other side of the room, I couldn't make out the subject of their conversation. Besides, I was too busy putting Melanie and female bikers in general down. I was getting under her skin and I knew it. After about an hour, and at least three beers, Melanie announced to her group that it was now 2:00 and the initiation started in three hours. "So Melanie, are you going to give us a little synopsis of what the rite of passage is to join your group?" "No, I'm not. Just let me say that it is probably nothing as vile as the shit you macho guys put a new member through." "Like I thought. Sissy shit. It's probably something like if they can get a motorscooter from one end of the street to the other without killing themselves, their in." That did it. Melanie was now officially pissed. "I'll tell you what pig. How about you and I see who can beat the other in a match race. I believe I can whip your ass even if I'm half loaded." I thought about it for a few minutes. Actually, I didn't think about it at all. She had challenged me in front of the entire group, and I had no choice but to kick her lovely ass to save face with my club. I wasn't worried though. I had seen Melanie race last year, and although she was as good as any woman, she still had some trouble with the power shifts. I good male rider could beat her without too much trouble. "Okay, you have a deal. What are the stakes?" Melanie didn't even hesitate. "If you win, I will leave here with you today, and ride bitch all the way to the festival." I was now ready to cum in my jeans. "Deal. Let's get it on." "Slow down tiger. I know you're anxious to feel my tits for the next month." "You know it honey. I don't think I have to tell you that you are one stunning broad. To bad we're not having our initiation until we get back. I'd love for you to join in. I would even pledge again, just to have you join me." All the guys cracked up. "Okay, sport, that's a deal too. If you win, I'll go with you, and I'll be part of your initiation. If I win though, you will be required to pledge into our club, and be treated exactly as the other five pledges for the month leading up to the festival. We will both have our V.P.'s work out the details right now. They seem to get along so well, it'll be fun." I agreed instantly. To add insult to injury, I told Melanie that I was going to the men's room to take a piss, and while I was there I was going to fantasize about her initiation, and probably masturbate. I went off to get rid of some of the beer, and Tom and Cheryl went off to work out the agreement. There is an unwritten law in the biker world that states if you make a promise to another biker or club and break it, you are banished from all biker activities. It's like you got a huge case of an STD. You are shunned by everyone. I knew that when I beat Melanie, she would be bound by pride and dignity to do whatever I demanded for the next four weeks. As I left the men's room, I noticed that the five female pledges were all huddled at the corner of the bar talking to the barmaid. My guess was that they were excited about the bet that had just been made. I ordered another beer for Melanie and myself, and we watched as our seconds busily laid out the rules. After about thirty minutes they were finished. Cheryl looked great too. She was the group's cosmetologist, and she had a motor home that she brought to the festivals. She sold specialty cosmetics and clothing for bikers. I saw that a lot of men went into her trailer at Daytona. On one occasion, I saw a guy walk in as I was entering a bar, and when I left I spotted a gorgeous redhead leaving her trailer. I guess the guy got the thrill of a lifetime watching her shop. Cheryl took charge immediately. "The rules are as follows. The race will be one half mile. Each contestant will be required to consume three boilermakers in the next forty five minutes. The race will then be run at the strip on the outskirts of town. The loser of the race will be required to surrender the key to their bike to the winning club. It will be transported by the winners to the festival. The loser will be further required to ride with for the winner into the festival. The loser will also be required to pledge into the winners club. The initiation will be the same as for everyone else pledging into the respective club. All the rules of the winning club prevail. That's it. Do each of you agree to the terms of the contest?" Melanie and I looked at each other, and we both smiled wickedly. "I have to tell you sexy, that I would never have guessed that you would submit to riding bitch for a man into Sturgess. You know how humiliating for a true biker that is." "I guess I'll have to grin and bear it. I can't back out now. I'd lose the respect of every woman in my club." We both nodded to Tom and Cheryl, and the bet began. The five female pledges were instructed to bring everyone their first boilermaker. Three were assigned to the men, and two to the women. Cheryl proposed a toast and everyone dropped their shot of Jack Daniels into their beer. It appeared that Melanie was nursing hers a little longer than me, but she finished about five minutes after I did. I was already beginning to see a change in her personality. I know the first boilermaker hit her harder than me. The waitresses were ordered to get another round. Only Melanie and I were required to drink the three, but when all the girls had a second, the guys were forced to go along. It took Melanie about ten minutes longer than me the second time, but as soon as she raised her glass, the third round appeared. I drank at a normal pace, but this time Melanie was only half through. I knew she was cooked. "Gentlemen, it seems that our hostess is having a bit of a hard time finishing her third drink, so to make things a little more even, what do you say the guys have one more. Wench, bring the men one more round." I was quite surprised when the cute little blonde biker to be, only said yes Master, and went on her way. I finished my fourth at about the same time that Melanie finished her third, and the slight wobble when she got off the seat sealed her fate as far as I was concerned. She was mine. We all left the bar and most of the girls were giggling like drunken females do as we made our way to the bikes. I have to admit that I was a little tipsy too. As we rode ever so slowly to the end of town, we came up to the race strip. Melanie and I drove up to the starting line, and the rest of the group either stayed at the start, or rode to the finish line to see the end of the race. I'm sure Melanie didn't realize that in her condition, the race was already over. I just hoped that she didn't get hurt. I have seen some nasty accidents on bikes. "I'll give you a chance to back out Melanie, and we'll just forget the whole thing. You don't seem to be in too good condition to me. Just tell everyone that you can't compete with the men, and we'll meet you in Sturgess and buy you all dinner." "Not on your life bitch. You're the one that is going to show all the rough tough male bikers of the world that Melanie can outdo them." "Okay, have it your own way, but just remember the rules. You're going to look great dressed like a slut in a shiny leather mimi, holding on to my waist like all good bitches should do around bikers." Melanie was even having a bit of a tough time holding the heavy bike up. Even with the engine off, this bike as too damn big for her, especially in her condition. Melanie finally started the engine, and her Harley roared to life. It did sound awesome as most do. She walked the bike up to the starting line, and pulled even with me. We were now ready to race. I revved my engine slightly. Melanie on the other hand made her bike sound if it was about to explode. I was going to take it easy on her. I actually didn't want to embarrass her too badly. She would still have to face her club in about six weeks, after I initiated her into the world of male motorcycle riders. Cheryl was elected starter. She stood about fifty feet in front, and in the middle of the two bikes with a scarf in her hand. When she dropped the scarf, we would be off. I hoped that Melanie didn't drive her bike over Cheryl's foot, or worse. Cheryl raised her hand above her head and began to count down. "Three, two, one, go." Melanie dropped her idle at that precise moment, and pulled a hole shot that would make Evil Knivel jealous. She dropped into second gear before I realized that she had a perfect takeoff. I was already two bike lengths behind. Well, she didn't miss third gear, and by the time I realized what had happened, the race was over. I had not only lost a drag race to a woman, I was thoroughly beaten. She made me look like I had never ridden a bike in my life. As she turned back to the cheering women, she stood up on the moving bike, and raised her fists in triumph. "Another male chauvinist pig, bites the dust. But don't worry gentlemen, by the time my new bitch rider gets to Sturgess, he'll have a new respect for how well women can ride." I was stunned. I was shocked. I was speechless. I knew I had to live up to my end of the agreement. I had no choice if I ever wanted to ride with my club or any other club for that matter again. "Well ladies, we will now retire back to the bar, and have a victory drink before our initiation period begins. It will also give me the opportunity to explain what is expected of our new pledge. You can ride your own bike back to the bar, and give the keys to Jessica. She'll take charge of yours until you see your club again. This works out nicely. Jess has been having some stalling problems, and now she can have her bike worked on while she rides yours for the next month." We all drove back to the bar, and all the girls were still giggling like drunken teens. I was in deep shit, and I knew it. By the time we got back to the bar it was 4:30 in the afternoon. My new sponsor announced that the initiation would begin at 5:00 P.M. sharp, but we would all have one last boilermaker to salute the victor. She suggested that all the men join them, since it would be rude to show that they were poor losers. She instructed the pledges to fetch us all one more boilermaker. "And since you are now an official pledge Ken, you can give your pledge sisters a hand." I was red as a beet, but I knew if I refused, there would be some serious repercussions with my club. I left to go out to the bar with the girls. After all, I am man enough to take a little humiliation from Melanie here, but I will make it a point to let her know that I won't appreciate it going on after this. When I got to the bar, the girls were all talking to the barmaid. She was quite pleased that a woman had put a man in his place. She was drawing the thirty or so beers that were necessary to handle our crowd. Then she signaled for me to come over to her. "Be a sweetie dear, and go ask Mistress Melanie if she wants Jack Daniels for the girls, or would she like me to continue to pour shots of tea for them." She just couldn't control herself, and she dropped a glass of beer all over the bar. I had been set up. I was furious. As soon as we got to where we were going to start this stupid initiation, I was going to kick the shit out of this bitch. After we brought the genuine boilermakers into the lounge, I sat next to Melanie, and told her that I didn't appreciate being duped. "Oh, come on Ken, you would have done the same thing if you had the chance. You lost the race, and you are not going to back out of this, or cry foul now." I had to admit, it was a very sneaky thing to do. She deserved credit. "I'll live up to my end. I'm man enough to take any and all of the rituals that these ladies have to go through."\ "I'm glad to hear that. You are definitely all man." I could see the twinkle in her eye as she said that. I didn't know whether I should be flattered, or nervous. "Each girl has a sponsor and a handler. Of course I will be your sponsor for the initiation, and I have decided that Cheryl will be your handler. It is her responsibility to make sure that you are properly prepared for each task during initiation. Cheryl dear. Would you please come over here and say hello to your charge. You will be Ken's handler for the next month. He will come to you for preparation and instruction." "Oh, that will be nice. I will look forward to it." Just at that time, Melanie looked at her watch and announced that it was time for the initiation to begin. "Gentlemen, please finish your drinks and leave us girls to ourselves. We will see you in Sturgess, we can all get together for a huge new members party." There was some grumbling, but the guys drank up and started to leave. Several of them patted me on the back and wished me well. A couple of them said they were sure I'd put the bitches in their place. I heard the roar of the engines, and watched as they all pilled away. "Handlers, if you will please prepare your charges for the ride to camp." Six women left the bar and returned a minute later carrying something that I didn't seem to recognize. When Cheryl came up to me, I was told to do as the other pledges were doing. Close my eyes and hold my hands out in front of me with my fists closed, and my thumbs inside my fingers. I thought it was a strange ritual, but I did as I was asked. I felt something being placed over my outstretched hands. It felt like some form of metal. All at once I heard to distinctive clicks and I was instructed to open my eyes. When I saw what had been done, my heart almost stopped. My hands were now encased in two steel balls and they were tight enough that I couldn't open my hands at all. "This is just to prevent our girls from taking any liberties with our tits when you ride bitch honey." I studied each one and saw that they could only be opened by inserting a key into the lock. Cheryl promptly took the key to mine and hung them around her neck with the chain that was attached to it. She then attached a chain between the two balls, and I was effectively handcuffed. "He's ready to ride Mistress." I was led outside with the other pledges who were wearing identical balls of steel on their hands. They were kind of enjoying it, but I was very nervous. I was told to sit on the back of the seat, and Melanie mounted her bike in front. She told me to put my arms over her head and around her waist. I did, and in no time I was taking my first ride as a passenger on a "hog". The ride to the campsite was about fifteen minutes. Melanie made small talk along the way and told me as long as there were no transgressions, it really wouldn't be too bad, and I would probably find that I would come to enjoy my upcoming experience. Somehow, I doubted it. "After we get settled, you go see Cheryl in her trailer, and she'll remove your globes. I'll direct you to it." I was driven to the front of a very expensive motor home and told to wait there for Cheryl. Melanie then drove away to meet with the other sponsors. In about five minutes I heard the roar of an engine, and sure enough it was Cheryl. She opened the motor home, and I was told to go inside and take a seat. Cheryl was going to get her bike put away. When I entered the motor home, I immediately saw that it was made up of two parts. The front appeared to be a beauty salon and the rear some kind of clothing boutique. I took a peek at the clothes and saw that they were almost all leather outfits of every kind, and all forms of lingerie. Definitely not a man's place. When Cheryl returned I was seated in the only chair available, which was a weird looking beauty chair. It had wide arms with all kinds of holders on them. There were also what looked like half tubes on the legs. They fit the contour of my legs. "Well Ken, it looks like you're in for some real fun for the next month. I think you'll have a good time in actuality, but I know how you must dread the thought of having to ride bitch in the opening ceremonies at Sturgess. Believe me, it won't be that bad. You'll be well prepared, I promise. First some basic rules, and then I'll get those mean old punishment globes off your hands. You will be required to address your sponsor by one name and one name only. She is called Mistress. You will receive a demerit for each infraction. Each demerit is one punishment. It can be anything from having to wear those silly globes for a full twenty four hours, to one of several others we cook up. Just follow orders, and you will be fine. I want you to know that I am your handler, and your friend. I will pamper you while your here. All the girls get special attention, and you should be rewarded with that too." I was asked if I understood everything that was told to me so far, and I said that I did. Just then the cell phone rang and Cheryl went to the back of the trailer for a good five minutes. When she returned, she told me that it was Melanie, and she was concerned that I was handling everything well. I thought that was nice. "Let's get those mean old things off your hands. You are lucky because the other pledges still have theirs on and probably will all night. Do you realize how confining those things really are? Not able to use your hands at all. Just imagine trying to take a piss. That should give you some idea." She removed the first ball as I sat looking at her fabulous tits. They were a sight to behold. The more I saw, the more I realized that she was almost as beautiful as Melanie. She did seem to be a little less refined, and I got the impression that this was no woman to fuck with. "Did you look around yet?" "Just a little. This is strictly a woman's shop, right?" "Not at all. I have several services and items I provide for male bikers. In fact you look so tight that I will give you a minor treatment free of charge. After all, I am your handler." "What kind of treatment?" "I am not only a registered cosmetologist, I am also a masseuse. With every manicure I give a free shoulder rub. It gets all the knots out. I also provide several other services for the men. Your hand looks like it could use a good manicure, and I know you could relax a little. Want one?" Well, at this point I was game for anything. I was getting another hard-on looking at this woman. "Sure, why not. I get a shoulder massage too?" "Let me prepare you for the manicure, and then I'll rub you down." She removed the other globe, and my hands were now free. "Just put your hands flat on the grooves in the arms of the chair." As I did, Cheryl brought over an attachment and slid each of my fingers into a ring. Then she fastened the tray to the chair. She repeated the process, and my hands were now pressed flat on the arms of the chair and she tightened each ring from the underside of the chair. "This is to insure that your fingers are still during the manicure. Too many manicurists fuck up the whole thing because the client's hands tend to jump when we push the cuticles back." Next she stood behind me and started to knead my shoulders. It took about five seconds for me to totally relax. This woman was a master. She asked how it felt, and I know by the smile on my face, I didn't need to answer. She took the opportunity to pull my shirt off over my head. "Just as I thought. All you guys love this. You should see the massage you get with a pedicure. I'm sure you can just guess what I massage with your pants off." "Well maybe I could get a pedicure too then." "I'm not sure if we have enough time for that. Aw what the hell, if Mistress misses you, she'll call, and I'll make up an excuse. I'll have to remove those dirty jeans though. I don't usually like to smell things like that when I'm working so close, if you know what I mean." I couldn't imagine how she was going to get me jeans off with this enormous woody I was sporting. She slowly moved to the front, and undid my belt. She swiftly removed my pants and underwear. I had to strain to lift my butt off the seat so she could get them off. She began to tickle my cock and she stroked it a couple of times. Then she went to the sink and gargled. "I hate to wrap my lips around something that large, without a decent taste in my mouth. We had better get you prepared for the pedicure just in case we are interrupted. It will look as if I am working on you feet." She slid a tray under each foot, and attached it to the chair. Then she did the same thing to each toe that she did to my fingers. I wonder if she realized that I was now totally helpless, and bound to the chair. "There you go, honey. Are you ready for your special treatment?" I was trying to spit out a yes. I have never been this excited by a woman before. "Well then here we go." She went into a drawer in the console and took out a tape measure. "I always measure my clients to see if I will find the man who will go into my record book. You are close." I started to blush. I knew I was well endowed, but to hear it from her made me feel great. She measured my penis from top to bottom, and around the base. Then she went to the refrigerator and got an ice cube. She placed it right on my dick, and it began to shrink. "Don't worry honey, this won't take long, but I need all the measurements." She then measured my limp dick again in the same way. "You'll have another hard-on in just a minute." I was in heaven even if that was a little unnerving. "See, all done. Are you ready for some fun?" "Oh yes, I have been for the last fifteen minutes." "Well, here we go." Cheryl then went to another drawer and pulled out several leather straps. "What are those for?" "You'll see sweetheart, you'll see." She then got on her phone again and whoever she called, she only said one word. "Ready."