By PrisonerX
Part 1
It was that time of year again. The long winter had passed and as spring was moving towards summer, Sandro knew it was time for his motorbike to have its annual service.
His thoughts turned to the first time he had taken his bike to the motorcycle centre which was about 80km from the city in which he lived. That was a weekend he would never forget.
By PrisonerX
Part 1
Sandro lived in the city. He was a keen biker and loved everything that went with the lifestyle, not least the opportunity and reason to wear full leathers. Recently his bike was not running as well as it normally did and he knew it was due for a full service. He had spotted an advertisement for a motorcycle service centre, which offered exactly what he wanted for the bike. Although it was about 80 km from his home, the advertisement offered “accommodation in a quiet secure location for you and your bike while it is being serviced according to your requirements.”
PrisonerX
Part 1
Sandro awoke with a start. He opened his eyes but all was black; he could not see anything and for a moment he wondered where he was. But the sound of a motor engine and the feeling of motion soon brought him to his senses. He was seated on a metal chair, wearing his motorcycle leathers with his wrists strapped tightly to the chair’s arms, his ankles to its legs and his chest strapped firmly to its back. His hands were locked into tight leather mitts and his head was covered in a tight spandex hood obscuring his vision. Try as he might, he could not move as the restraints kept him firmly secured.