Gay Erotic Stories

The Motorbike Instructor Comments, fantasies or re-writes to enginefire@motorcyclecops.com Gary Ridd got dressed for another day. He had what was to him the best life and job in the world. A top motorbike instructor he had created the perfect base for abuse, domination, and hero worship (of himself). He had turned it to great financial advantage. Some very wealthy clients past through the training centre, they paid for his extra attention - he even received gifts. He not only turned his grateful pupils into bikers but he showed some of them just how manipulative a bike in their hands could be when seeking sex. Others were interested in sex itself his horny biker image made for a great adventure. But some students it seemed were there purely for him to humiliate or have fun with. Yea, he’ d teach them to ride but they wouldn’t come near the deeper mysteries which a motorbike could give them. Only his chosen got that part of the course and all paid one way or another. Ridd was not short of money, he owned four bikes and had a flat with its own integral garage. He now kitted up for the day in black leathers, open face lid and boots resplendent in buckles. Gary Ridd was thin yet muscular, medium height, with brown hair slightly longer than his collar. Mid 30’s he had an outdoor complexion, and was very strong. For work he always used the same machine, a Ducati 900. Not the most practical of tools for the job but everyone always knew who was the tutor. He was soon at the training centre looking over the crop of students. He moved through the hall taking careful note of looks, possible wealth and anyone who paid him particular attention. As chief instructor he drew up the lists every day, non of his colleagues had ever questioned his practice of calling everyone’s name at the start of the day before making these lists. Often at the end of the day the groups would meet up with him, sometimes his chosen pupil would be told to wait at a pick up point. The centre had a number of mobile homes for guys staying for a few days, it also used hotels. He would often ride on site and offer guys a lift out rather than just sit in a caravan for the evening. Ridd had it all worked out. More often than not pupils paid for his drinks, meals, petrol and of course tips. He would take the right sort of guy considerable distance, once there he would carefully control the situation. His pillion seat proved for him a powerful weapon in manipulating his men. After all they couldn’t ride, the centre was national so most hadn’t a clue where they were, and Ridd just loved every ounce of his bike, leathers and their power with which he could dominate them. The pupils needed him in order to gain the magic, he showed them just how brilliant that magic was going to be. And no one ever doubted that Ridd could use all his abilities to thwart and even destroy them if the mood took him - or if they got smart. Some of his ‘lads’ had been mega tough, others were famous, some had been weak and gentle. He had a ‘war diary’ at the flat but all of them had learned to obeyed him. Many had been back for more and a few even ‘worshiped’ him. A colleague occasionally joined him in his demonstrations of how good it was to be a gay bike master. But mostly he worked alone. When he gathered his five strong group of pupils he knew it was going to be a good day. Three executive types already in leather kit, one youth in need of a bike and a good looker already eyeing him up. Tonight’s entertainment perhaps. These guys had done the initial course; they were now ready for road craft and polishing for the test in two days time. Ridd always took them off site before really giving them his pep talk; before leaving he talked about safety and all that but the pep talk was about macho expression, becoming a biker, him ‘making them into motorbike men’. In the course of his preaching he could always tell those who were aroused by his images of bikers and being modern horsemen. It always aroused him. Guy’s happily married could find themselves jerking off thanks to him. Once they were clad in sensual leathers and about to become superheros on their mean machines a private male world was suddenly theirs. It was a world that few could wait to become a part in; and Ridd knew the way. By lunchtime Gary had decided which of the five to target for the evening, one of the executives was clearly aroused just by looking at him. He played up to Gary seeking that bit of extra attention. And he was stinking rich. At this point it is worth explaining that Ridd was no motorbike riding prostitute. The only interest in wealth was a power game. Rich men were used to self determination; the fact that Ridd was able to determine everything for them for a few hours was a real high for the instructor. By the evening Ridd had arranged to collect the executive for a little action. They met near the hotel used by the centre. Paul Gerring was 33 and in good shape, with neat blond hair and a hint of stubble. He was medium height and full of personality. Ridd swept up to him astride a dark Pan European Honda. A massive brute. “Different bike” said Paul “The other’s for work this is for invasion” said Ridd “Invasion?” “I like to go over to Wales, this will ensure our victory” he said slapping the tank as if the bike was a horse, “ I ve been to Italy on this fucker. Knowing that I can just go again when ever I want gives me a real buzz.” Gerring swung aboard a little clumsily but Ridd just smiled at how inept these idiots were. Having told his pupil to throw his arms round him tight Gary Ridd took off at speed. For the first few manoeuvers he could hear his passenger swearing in horror. Ridd just threw his bike around even harder. An excellent horseman, Ridd had caused passengers to shit themselves before now. Gerring was relieved to see the signs for the motorway but Ridd’s conquesting metaphors were even more apt once motorway tarmac came under his rule. The bike cut through traffic like a sword, undertaking, sweeping through lanes doing speeds which Paul preferred not think about. On an open stretch Gary suddenly shouted “This will be you in a few months, did you see them cringing in their cars; fuck on the bastards,” he laughed and slapped Paul’s left leg. They crossed the Welsh Boarder and Ridd eased up on the throttle, though he never missed an opportunity to overtake or put them at the front of any queue. Soon they landed at a rural pub. Gary looked at Paul and said “ You weren’t scarred were you.” They had a drink and some food, the landlord made quite a fuss of them. Ridd said “ He’s one of my men, four years now in the saddle.” On leaving the pub Paul thought that they would be heading back but Ridd moved left out the gate and headed for distant woods. Without touching the brakes he cleared the security bollards at a car park entry and headed down a private road of the Forestry Commission. After a mile or so he halted, but he kept the engine running and blipped the throttle a couple of times. “What you thinking” he said. Paul said “ I was wondering what you were thinking.” “Ha, we’re even then, This is the middle of nowhere, we can do what we want,” laughed Ridd. He silenced the bike and killed the lights. Paul relaxing said “ You get a very different feeling with bikes to cars, I’d never think of coming to a place like this at night. It is like a horse - personal, it’s there specifically for you.” “It keeps your secrets” said Ridd “mileage doesn’t incriminate because you just ride it, no one else bothers with your bike, and only one other chosen person can accompany you - and they are specifically there for the rider”. Ridd made the two of them swap places having placed the bike on its centre stand. Once on the back Gary carefully aroused the executive by exploring his new leather suit. He said “ make your pillions sit tight Paul, they’ll feel even more dependant upon you. It heightens your feelings as well, make them rub your crotch. You can make them even more compliant by slapping or fondling their legs. It gives them a greater sense that you are in charge, your dressed to kill, you’ve got them begging for it and your bike will provide distance, isolation, and all the fucking power you need to keep them for as long as you want.” Paul said dry mouthed “I am going to carry panniers with a set of leathers and boots” “And what will you do when I ve turned you into a motorcycle cowboy” said Gary. “Cruise the university area, pick up and carry away what I fancy.” “Then what” probed the instructor. “Eh” snapped Paul, he thought Ridd was into action not voyeurism. “I am going to make you into a fucking biker and are you just going to use two wheels to capture students!” barked Ridd. Ridd let go of the executive hide and jumped off. He ordered the man to dismount. Then he almost forced the pupil’s face down into the saddle. Gary snarled “ You’ ll have the fucking time of your life with one of these, but I’ll kill you myself if you just use it for the journey to a Travel Lodge with an undergrad, it's not just transport it's your authority to do what you want.” He then forced Paul to mount up backwards and spread eagle himself on the machine. The executive now looked terrified and before he knew it the rider had clipped his hands and a boot to either end of the bike. The boot was secured to the pannier and the hands to each handle bar. Paul Gerring kicked wildly with his free limb but Gary wrestled him down and secured even that. Ridd stood looking at him for a moment - then produced a camera and photographed him. Gerring wondered why he had obeyed the rider without question. Gary said “Some of my boys like to be tied to there own bikes you know; very erotic using all that power while carrying a weak pillion and then transferring your dominance to him. Risky, but a real turn on just a long as you get it all back. The rest of us, well I just like to gorge myself on keeping others weak and helpless.” Ridd mounted the bike with Gerring now installed as his saddle. “You ever wondered what its like being a motorbike, your masters butt bolted to you”. Gary held Paul’s arms as if handlebars. “Imagine earlier on the motorway” He bounced on Gerring quite hard, he was sat upon the pupils crotch. The one piece suit was straining in the lower region. Paul was considerably aroused, precum was moistening his legs. Paul had chosen a tight one piece suit to enjoy arousal and wow he felt good now. Then Ridd stood on the pegs and virtually jumped on his chest. The bike rocked ever so slightly and Gerring cried out that it was going to topple over. But it didn’t of course. Gary now stroked Paul’s face, and then moved to kiss him, there was resistance in the eyes of the executive. But what resistance could he offer. Gary dismounted and caressed himself around his crotch area, then he repeated the exercise on Paul’s jeans. “Bet you cant wait to do this to a student, ah, they’ll form a queue” Ridd laughed. He then re-mounted but also sat backwards and lay out on top of Gerring but he replaced his helmet beforehand. The helmet now lay cold and hard on Paul’s face. Ridd suggested that if a ‘saddle’ ever gave trouble you just nodded your head a couple of times. Gerring was now convinced that the rider was sadistic beyond belief and yet he was getting aroused again. Gary now sat up and swung round and resumed his position saddled on the pupil’s crotch. “Well, even I cant fly with you chained to my wings, or can I?” Gerring screamed for mercy, he really thought Ridd was going to swoop down the motorway with him lashed to the bike like this. He thought the bastard capable of anything, that after all was Ridd’s very special ability. People really thought he could do whatever he wanted. But Gary was now writhing gently on the supine pillion, and now humming something. He moved further back so that Gerring’s crotch was accessible to him and now he gently explored this sensitive area. Immediately Gerring was aroused, a firm bulge was visible in the moonlight, their leather ‘uniforms’ glistening in the Forrest. The instructor had moved into a very gentle unexpected phase. He moved forward and kissed Paul for several minutes. Then moved forward and placed his boots and legs over the fairing so that his own crotch was almost in Paul’s face. Gerring could see the full weaponry of his tutor contained by the guy’s jeans. Paul found breathing quite difficult like this and for an instance he thought he would have a panic attack. But Ridd lay right back easing the pressure and stayed there for a number of minutes in silence. He then fondled Paul’s suit, reaching under himself to find the crotch of his human saddle. Gerring was as hard as a rock and desperate for climax, for him movement or a hand job was essential for D.I.Y. But his hands were bound to the bike and with Gary astride him he couldn’t move. “Ride me” he suddenly said to Gary “Please ride me” The motorcycle instructor swung himself into position as if he was going to ride the bike. “Do you see now, do you realise how good a bike can be.” Ridd placed himself over the executive’s crotch, he squeezed his legs against Gerring’s Body and then he writhed over the 33 year old.” Gerring was seconds from satisfaction, he looked up at Gary. A look of complete satisfaction covered the riders face. Ridd said “Now you rich fucking bastard, your mine.” Gerring cried out as his dick, hard and ready now blasted cum thanks to the violent activity been visited upon it by the riders butt. Gerring felt incredible, and a bit heady. The confinement of his suit just added to the pleasure and he gasped out loud his approval and thanks. After a few minutes his arms were freed and Ridd jumped off, untied the boot restraints and helped Paul off the bike. He helped him over to one side then lit a cigar for himself and then offered one to Paul along with a lighter. Paul had trouble with the lighter, so he failed to notice Ridd securing his helmet. The biker jumped aboard his now pupil free motorbike. Engine roar snapped Gerring’s attention back to reality. The expression on Ridd’s face told him that the biker was going solo. “Fuck. Up. And Away!” shouted Ridd whooping like a cowboy. His bike lifted him instantly from grasp, and he was gone. Gerring swore and wondered what he was going to do. He just sat smoking and then thought how good it would feel to repeat Ridd’s treatment on someone else especially the blast off at the end - now that was phallic as long as you were the bastard in the saddle. Ten minutes later Ridd came swooping back, he stopped next to him and killed the power. The gleaming leathers and that huge bike made the instructor look incredibly horny. He starred at Ridd for a moment, then spoke. “Time for my blow job!”