Motorcycle Boy: Chapter 1

note: this story was written a while ago, the character names were added then, any similarity to anyone I know is purely coincidental...

Motorbike Boy

You might even have seen him, racing past, just a figure clad head to toe in black leather, hurtling along on his bike… you may have had time to think ‘there’s something odd about that bike - the design of it, or the noise…’ but by the time you’d turned for a double take, it was around the corner and gone, racing off towards the horizon…

Meet Motorcycle Boy. That’s his name now, but he was born under the name Jason. He never knew what he wanted, drifting through life up to the age of 19, no career, no prospects, stuck in that forbidding estate, poor, unwanted… cursed in all areas, except one… physical. His body was a thing of beauty… rugby player legs somehow married to a tiny waist by athletic physical hips, two perfect semi-circular buttocks that always seemed to be trying to escape from the back of his tight jeans… torso rippling with hard stomach muscles and forming a perfect V shape from the waist up to a bulky well shaped chest, arms like vines, wiry and strong, all topped off by an occasional cute smile, deep blue eyes and an unruly mob of sandy blonde hair, which refused to take any style and swung loose, like a surfer emerging from the waves…

Yes, he had had his unfair share of the local girls, but sex with women just didn’t satisfy him… he didn’t know what was missing; there must be another experience out there for a virile youth like him. He sometimes despaired of finding what he was looking for, and this led him to petty acts of vandalism and theft, anything to try and put that spark into his soul, which he knew must be out there somewhere…

And that disobedient streak, that immature flash of petty criminality, is what brought him into the world of Angus McClane.

McClane was a genius, nobody knew it yet, but the project he was working on in his garage was going to revolutionise the world. In his garage was the product of ten years of his life, his prototype engine, fitted to an old motorbike. He had meticulously assembled it, and now was preparing for his first road test.

He was going to follow the great Scottish inventors of the past and create something which would revolutionise society, and he was going to do it all from his little council house garage, because nobody believed that his crazy plans for a fuel cell engine. Angus would prove it to them… that it could replace a petrol engine… that it could run off of little more than air, water and a tiny electrical charge, so small that Angus reckoned he could power the bike just by the electrical current running through his own body…He had meticulously assembled it, and now was preparing for his first road test.

He was days away from his first trial run, when Jason tried to steal it.

As far as Jason was concerned, it was just another bike, and one day he was walking past the garage when the door was open, and Jason saw Angus, at work on the bike. He stopped and looked at the freshly painted frame and right there on the spot, decided that he would come back tonight and take that bike for himself.

‘Nice Bike’ Jason said.

Angus looked up at the boy, standing there in those hip-hugging jeans and that small cropped top which just showed off some of the detail of his muscular stomach and chest. Angus’s first reaction was to reply with the phrase ‘Nice body’ but he held his tongue…

Instead he answered, cautiously ‘Thanks’.

Because Angus was no fool. He normally worked with the garage door shut, because he knew that, around here, you don’t show off what you own, unless you want someone to steal it from you. But the weather was so hot today, and he had been spray painting the final coat on the bike, ahead of its test run… he’d foolishly left the door open, and now he knew exactly what Jason was thinking… that these garages were not secure, you can open them with a spoon handle, and his bike, shiny and new in its fresh paint, was a tempting prize…

‘Looks unusual, is it a runner’ Jason asked, feigning innocence…

Angus stared at the boy. He’s not even trying to be subtle, he thought, he’s pretty much blatantly asking if the bike is ready to be driven away. Angus knew, right then, that the sexy youth would be in his garage tonight while he slept, quietly removing the bike, leaving nothing for angus to discover in the morning except a broken lock and an empty space… and then all his time, all his effort would have been for nothing.

Angus’s mind filled with angry thoughts… he would shout and curse, and threaten the thief. He would chase this thieving youth from the street. If he was lucky, he might actually catch him, and the he could administer a thrashing that the boy would never forget…

And yet… an idea popped into Angus’s mind… a strange idea, not fully formed… but something, if it worked, that would be far more satisfying a punishment for the wayward youth, and would, at the same time, help him test his new engine… if only he could be sure that the boy would come back tonight…

Angus looked at the youth, who was standing, waiting for an answer. He smiled to himself. ‘Yeah, it’s a unique bike, nothing much like it. Runs beautifully, goes like anything. Going to sell it tomorrow morning, just getting it ready’

Angus then made a point of removing the bike keys and placing them on a hook on the garage wall. He wondered if he was being too obvious, but Jason was not that smart…

He saw the words registering with the boy, could almost see his mind working… Angus imagined the conversation going on in the Boy’s head ‘Bike sold tomorrow, keys hanging on garage wall, therefore must steal tonight…’

The youth wandered off, and Angus turned to his workbench, there was much to do…

3 AM.

The window at the back of the garage wasn’t even locked, that made things easier for Jason. He had a very flexible body and he was able to squeeze his broad shoulders through the narrow space into the room, twisting and contorting so that his body slipped into the darkened garage with hardly a sound.

He stood up and reached for his back pocket, where the torch which would soon light the room was resting. In the few seconds that remained, he smelt the musky damp odour of the garage, the scent of oil and fresh paint. His mind was alert, but not alert enough… he should have taken more notice of another smell there too, familiar but he couldn’t place it. Something medical, like ammonia…

Just as he pulled the torch from his pocket, he felt the cloth being pressed firmly across his nose and mouth… the strong overpowering scent overwhelming him… the torch falling for the floor as he reached out in the darkness, trying to find his assailant, grabbing the wrist of the arm which was pressing the cloth over his face, trying to dislodge it, and then feeling his strength ebb away, and dropping into a drug induced unconsciousness…

Angus let the body slip to the floor, and stood in the dark, panting from the sudden exertion. He had been crouching silently in the garage for five hours, almost giving up hope that the thief would come, until that moment he had head scratching noises around the window, and knew the moment had come…

he had removed the dope-soaked rag from the plastic bag, and, with his dark-adjusted eyes, watched the body slowly and surely ease its way into the room. He had never done anything like this before, he was worried that when the moment came he might freeze, or that the boy would overpower him before he was immobilised… but things had gone better than he planned. He hit the light switch and squinted in the sudden brightness. As his eyes adjusted, he looked down at his new possession, lying sprawled out on the floor.

The sight of the sexy youth excited him immensely, he was almost tempted to rip off his own clothes and use the boy right there and then… but Angus was a controlling man, he knew how to pace himself, and he was going to have plenty of time with this young stud soon…

First things first. Angus knew he had maybe half an hour until the boy began to come round, so he had to act fast. Tying the boy in a hogtie came first, followed by stripping away the boy’s clothes. The stripping took longer than he planned, as he could not help admiring, and feeling, every bit of the muscular physique as it was revealed one piece at a time. The boy’s cock and balls were equally impressive, as they became the last items to lose their protective covering, leaving the boy fully naked from head to toe.

Preparation is everything on a job like this, So Angus prepared the boy’s skin, making sure it was clean and dry, removing any dirt or blemishes which would spoil the final effect. Next, he took the roll of masking tape and masked off the various sections of the boy’s body… around the calves and neck… he put a bag over the boy’s head, suitably ventilated. Also, as he hadn’t got time to shave them, a bag over the genitals.

He already had plastic sheeting up around the room. Now it was time to begin. The liquid latex and paint mixture was already in the spray gun, so he put on his own dust proof mask, and began…

He worked smoothly, methodically, working the spray up and down the captured body, the quick drying mixture drying into a perfect, shiny reflective black body suit, all details of his body muscles and sinews clearly visible but now covered in a perfect body hugging coat of shiny latex. He turned the body several times, ensuring all areas were covered. Ideally he would have spent hours over this, but time was running out.

He tested a small area to check, yes, that’s dry enough. Now onto phase 2. The bike was wheeled into position, shiny and clean as before, but now with a few minor additions and changes… the petrol tank, irrelevant in the new system, had been removed, and newly machined, shiny chrome fixings were visible up and down its bodywork. The boy would be coming round soon, so Angus had to work fast. He lifted the boy’s prone body up and, with some difficulty, lowered him onto the bike frame, face down. The boy’s chest now rested where the petrol tank had once sat.

He removed the bag from the boy’s head, and rested his chin on the cross-bar of the handlebars. The boy’s arms were extended along the front forks of the bike’s front wheel, one on either side, and secured firmly in place with shiny chrome brackets. He had machined special hand covers, which fully enclosed the boy’s hands, and secured them firmly to the centre of the front wheel, one either side.

Angus’s attention now moved to the rear. The boy’s beautiful backside, sprayed and latex covered like the rest of the boy’s body, was in the perfect position, just at the front of the bike’s seat. Angus tied sturdy straps round the boy’s torso, he was not going anywhere. Now, he needed to connect the electrical system…

Angus had realised early on in the planning of the bike that a small electrical charge would be necessary to create the chemical reaction he sought to power his fuel cell. He had considered running it off a conventional battery, but then realised the demand was so low that a human body would be sufficient to power it. Up until today, he was planning to use his own body, but now he had other plans.

Anyone who had seen Jason’s body he had immediately thought that the boy looked powerful, but no one, except a mad Scottish engineer, would have thought that the boy really was full of power, ready to be used as an organic power source…

He stripped the bag away from the boy’s cock and balls, which now hung down into an aperture between the driver’s seat and the bike frame. It was an easy matter to connect the relevant wires directly to the boy’s balls, and as soon as he did so he felt a hum of power run through his engine, as the electrical signal began a chemical reaction in the fuel cell. Angus smiled in pleasure; his plan was going to work.

The boy’s legs were the last consideration. Bent into an ‘L’ shape at the knees, the lower legs were tied along the side of the motorbike frame, exactly where the exhaust pipes would have been, if this was a conventional bike. Angus had made special silver metal enclosures for the legs, styled to look like oversize exhaust pipes; they fully enclosed the lower legs, and, once bolted to the bike frame, completed the total immobilisation of the boy. Angus stood back to admire his handiwork, as the blonde haired boy began to stir from his stupor.

‘Wh…where am I?’ Jason groaned. He was still blurry, and for some reason his arms and legs refused to move…

Angus watched as the boy began, slowly, to comprehend his position… with the exception of his head, and that pale mop of hair, the boy was now totally merged into the motorbike. The black latex of his all over body suit exactly matched the bike’s paintwork; his lower legs were consumed within the fake exhaust housings, his muscular limbs and torso thoroughly restrained. The muscular curvature of the boy’s back mirrored the shape of the now-removed petrol tank, the dip of his lower back and the upward curve of those pert buttocks matching the styling of the bike frame… He watched as the boy tried to pull himself free, but Angus had done a fine job with the restraints, there was little the boy could do apart from flex and tense his muscles within the black latex suit.

Angus smiled, as the boy looked at him in fear.

‘You wanted to steal my bike. Well, now you are my bike, boy. And I’m gonna ride you…’

Angus picked up the last piece, the final section that would complete the transformation. A full head mask in black in two sections, the rear part smooth, the front part incorporating the bike’s main front headlamp. Inside, a cruel final touch to keep the mask firmly in place- a stubbly black dildo fixed to the inside of the front, perfectly aligned for the boy’s mouth… With a smile, Angus slipped the mask over the boy’s struggling head, ensuring the dildo was firmly placed to gaga and silence the struggling boy’s mouth. Jason gagged as the foul rubber of the dildo pushed between his lips and deep into his mouth. He could breathe, but only just… he could see nothing, unable to speak…and the only part of his body he could move, his neck, suddenly became immobilised as the evil head mask was secured in position, bolted to the centre of the handlebars…

Jason was now fully part of the bike. His head would turn with the handlebars when the rider turned them, His arms would absorb shocks from the road as the front shock absorbers bumped over potholes… He couldn’t imagine how his humiliation get any worse, by Angus had one last trick up his sleeve

Angus dressed in his own motorcycle gear, black leather, head to toe, but the thought of the captured boy excited him so much that he could not close the flies on his trousers, due to the hard-on underneath. That was OK though, because he never intended to leave it just like that…

With a scalpel, and careful not to harm the skin beneath, Angus ever-so-carefully cut a gap in the captured youth’s latex suit, a slot, just between the two beautiful buttocks. He felt inside, feeling the warmth and dampness of that small, inviting hole…

Angus climbed astride the bike, his own hard cock sticking out before him. He looked down between his legs and saw the beautiful arse before him, shiny and black in the latex, with that small inviting cut welcoming him… With both hands, he grabbed either side of Jason’s latex-covered thighs, and pulled himself forward. Even with the gag in his throat, Jason gasped out loud as Angus penetrated him, pushing his hard thick cock inside the boy’s unexploited hole.

For Jason the sensation was unlike anything he had ever experienced… unbelievable pain at first, unbearable, humiliating pain… but then, something else… something he had been missing… something which filled him in a way he had never experienced. He groaned again, but this time, he was groaning with pleasure as Angus pushed deep inside…

The bike appeared to rev up as Angus penetrated, as the sexual sensations from the youth’s body transmitted down the electrical connections to the engine.

Angus smiled, and, using a remote control, opened the garage door. This would be a test-ride to remember.

He leant forward, placing his head close to where the captured boy’s head was entombed.

‘I think it’s time for a test drive, Motorbike Boy’ he said. ‘Let’s start small, maybe a hundred miles…’

Motorbike Boy, for that was now his name, gasped as his rider pushed forward, and they rolled out of the garage, joined together, onto the open road

THE END