Property of the Biker by Naomi West

BAMBI: I’m an inmate in a gilded cage.
Pageants and parades, make-up and fancy dresses.
Some girls might kill for this.
But to me, it was hell on earth.
And that makes my mother the devil.

So when the outlaw roared up on his chopper, all leather and muscles and sin, I did the first thing that came to mind:
I took his outstretched hand.
With that bike between my legs and his brawn in front of me, I felt freer than I had since the day I was born.
This was wild. This was freedom.
And then it all came crashing down.

The biker wasn’t offering me a brief escape from my f**ked-up world.
He was kidnapping me for good.
And when I tried to go back to the home I’d left…
My mother slammed the door in my face.
Now, I have nowhere to go.
I belong to a man whose plans for me start with three little words:
“Bend over, sweetheart.”